#this was the exact image that came to my mind

[honeycollectswhump]

Initials

[masterlist]

CW: whumper pov, pet whump, dehumanisation, cutting (NOT self-harm), gore

Mireille hadn’t put too much thought into it, not really. But she didn’t need to. The moment she lay eyes upon the initials carved into the jewelled perfume bottle in the home of one of her suitors, it was decided. 

Henri was a good man, certainly as good as he could get, though not without some imperfections. He was of good stature, broad shoulders, though unaware of how to present them, always slouching slightly, as if the weight of his own frame was too much. And really, that wasn’t acceptable in the eyes of perfection. Maybe Mireille could make him great, could make him her own and teach him how to be proper, but maybe this was the best he could get and she’d just waste her time. Honestly, she’d rather be certain of her efforts, but he didn’t need to know, for his presents still made lovely decor. 

He did have good taste, otherwise she wouldn’t have entertained him for so long. 

All that matters now though, is the sunlight catching in the glass carvings of the bottle, the image replaying in her mind. She wants it too, and she wants it now, and Mireille knows just the possession perfectly suited for this:

Her little ashtray.

There is no thought in her mind of where to do this, who to ask. None of them would see the vision in her mind, the exact way it’s supposed to look. They’d all mess it up, ignorant of the gracefulness she lent to her ashtray. No, this is a personal project.

It is too easy to acquire a proper knife without suspicion. These men –the useful ones– – would bend over backwards just to get a chance at pleasing her. Sometimes she’d go as far as calling it boring, but what else was she supposed to do when all it took was the batting of her lashes, looking up at them with big, dumb doe eyes and slightly parted lips? Her body spoke a language none of them could resist, none of them were ever more than prey to fall in worship. 

And worship they did, falling to their knees to satisfy her in all the ways she allowed them. She was their queen in satin sheets and velvet dresses.

So here she sits, legs crossed elegantly on her precious couch, the fine knife not yet unpacked, resting in a silver case, embedded with diamonds.

No one else understands that not only does the result need to be flawless, but every single step needs to be immaculate, from the tools to the cutting to the one performing. An image has to be created, a scene, and none of those lowly things could ever understand her vision. That was what has always made her inherently different, inherently superior, and deserving of rightful worship. 

A servant rushes into the room, hitching breaths restricted by the working collar, eying the golden bell set carefully on the glass table in front of her. 

“You called, Mistress?” they ask, staring cautiously at the floor, not yet daring to raise their eyes to meet hers. Good. She wants them revering. 

“Yes. Fetch me my ashtray, won’t you?” Mireille drawls, her bubbling excitement hidden under layers of refined grace. “And bring me some strong dogs. They will be needed.”

The servant nods, not worrying their stupid little head about her meaning, teasing what's to come, and rushes out as quickly as they came. They look frail, purposeful like porcelain, probably why she bought them, though their name or number had left her mind long ago. An unimportant piece of information abandoned along the way, replaced with something of value. 

Only minutes later, the same servant returns, gripping the ashtray’s golden leash too tightly. It’s barely noticeable but nonetheless doesn’t escape her all-seeing eyes; the way their knuckles drain of colour disturbs the otherwise pristine scene. They are followed by two guard dogs, muscular and well rested, their posture straight and imposing, their gaze hard and cold like unmoving stone. 

The ashtray looks perfect as usual, the thought both pleasing and stinging in a way that does not fit her image. So Mireille pushes it aside, a worry for later or preferably for never. They can’t have taken long to get him ready. And yet…

“Undress the ashtray. I want his chest to be free” Mireille orders, snapping her fingers. The servant quickly complies, buttoning the fine blouse the ashtray was decorated with open, pulling up away from him and folding it with learned precision. 

It only takes a hand movement for the ashtray to step forward, for him to sink to his knees in front of her. The poor lamb doesn’t yet know what is coming.

“Hold him.”

The ashtray gasps and for a single, disobedient moment looks up at her with big panicked eyes. The way his blue eyes shine in the golden light of the chandelier does nothing but strengthen her resolve. Maybe, in another world, the view in front of her would be a painting she saw at an auction, a beautiful angel wrapped in gold captured by beasts of stone, unknowing of his fate. And like a painting, it is only natural for her to leave her mark.

He doesn’t struggle, even when she can’t imagine this was part of his training, he just looks at her pleadingly, unsure what he is even begging for. 

It’s a scene now and Mireille will be a perfect part of it. 

Slowly, she stands up, taking the silver case from the table as she passes it, positioning herself right in front of the ashtray. It opens with a satisfying click, revealing polished metal, sharp edges, red velvet and her initials finely engraved on the handle. Mireille can just about stop a laugh from bubbling up. 

She crouches down to the ashtray’s eye level, laying a hand on his cheek. He doesn’t even lean into it. “Don’t. Move.”

Mireille takes the knife, letting it gleam in the gentle light, and hands the case to the servant still watching. 

She can’t mess up now. It has to come from her heart.

Carefully, she traces her initials into the skin on his collarbone, making only slight cuts, letting her letters swirl around. 

M. A. B.

Holding the knife like a painter's brush, with meticulous, perfected movements. It comes to her like second nature and the first step is completed. 

In a final decision, she lays the knife’s edge on the first line of the M, watching the ashtray’s breath hitch in horrible anticipation. Not even a wince has broken through his training and Mireille is more than curious to test how far she can take it. 

Were he any cheaper, she’d love to test what would get him to break his training. If she could get him to speak after all. But that wouldn’t be graceful, now would it? It would be a waste.

Instead, she presses it into his flesh, cutting down slowly, precisely. Once, then twice. The ashtray’s breath gets laboured and it only fuels her. She knows what she wants; an ornate engraving, decor on his skin, a signature on her masterpiece.

Fresh, richly red blood pours from the cuts, running down his bare chest like tiny rivers, connecting and separating, getting caught in raised scar tissue.

Mireille moves carefully, taking her sweet time, her lips opened slightly, imitating an artist. Position, press, slide. His flesh parts beautifully, like he was made for this. For a moment, she looks over to the servant, who is pressing the case against their chest, their face showing sloppily concealed horror, and it makes her smile. They would probably call it brutal, ignoring the gentle way her knife slides through his skin, not meeting any resistance. They’d call it violent, not comprehending the second artwork the rivulets of blood form through the hand of fate itself. They lack the mind of an artist and the nature of a human.

By the time she reaches the A, the ashtray is barely holding back sobs, letting out silent, crooked whimpers –a sound so ugly she should punish him for it–, as she etches her mark deep enough to hit the bone. Still, he doesn’t move, doesn’t strain against the unforgiving grip holding his arms, against her carving following the twirls and flourishes. 

She doesn’t admit to herself that it is more challenging than she thought, to follow the rounded lines with a tool that craves sharp edges and straight incisions. The curves of the B make the knife catch on the bone and the ashtray lets out a soundless gasping scream, blue eyes nearly rolling back in his head. The tears he could barely hold back before now run down his face in a disobedient river, mixing with the blood on his chest, destroying her artwork. 

He lifts his head upwards, in a last attempt to stop the flow of the tears, but it only makes them drip from his chin into the gashes and he is destroying everything–

A slap echoes through the room, loud enough to make his pathetic sobbing stop in an instant.

“Get your act together.” Mireille hisses, grabbing his chin and letting her manicured nails dig into his pretty face. “Or I will rip you apart, you worthless piece of trash.”

Only the word Worthless seems to get through to his stupid fucking pet brain. There is a reason he was made into a thoughtless object instead of anything else. His beauty is his only strength, the only reason they didn’t mercy-kill him, punish him for stealing space and air and atoms from anything with more use. 

He is an ashtray or he is Nothing. And if he keeps ruining her attempts to make Something out of him, he will wish she had let him keep his voice to beg for death.

At last, the ashtray doesn’t act up any more, stays motionless and silent as she finishes the B. When she pulls his skin taut, she can feel him tremble with the effort to keep still. Seems like his training had some use after all. 

Finally satisfied, Mireille lays the bloody knife aside, giving herself some time to analyze her work. Briefly, she turns to the servant to order a towel, before devoting her attention back to the signature, quickly overflowing with blood. It’s beautiful, but her interest lies somewhere else. 

She digs two fingers into a line of the A, pulling the incision apart. The ashtray only manages a whimper that she gives no regard to, as she digs deeper and deeper through the tissue, against the continuous blood flow. Then, against the intense red, her own personal gold shines through. 

Bone. 

A pleased giggle escapes her.

It is done. 

Whatever will happen, whoever will lay their eyes upon them, it will be eternally clear who he belongs to. There are nicks in his bone that her knife and her hands caused and he will forever know. 

And when her stupid little ashtray comes back to his senses and remembers his silent purpose, he will thank her for it tenfold.

Taglist: @whumpsday, @2in1whump, @sodacreampuff, @webbo0, @toyybox, @sowhumpshaped, @clickerflight, @itsawhumpsideblog, @piniatafullofblood let me know if you want to be added or removed :)

i hope you enjoyed this chapter!! if you did, i would be very thankful if you considered donating to @whumpcloud's gofundme for their top surgery (of course only if you are financially able to!!!). it would mean the world to us both <3

#this. got more violent than i thought #mireille is spiraling....... #The Ashtray #ashtray/skye (oc) #mireille belmont (oc) #whumper pov #female whumper #pet whump #pet whumpee #conditioned whumpee #human ashtray #ashtray whumpee #human furniture #furniture whump #object whumpee #whumpee and whumper #gore #dehumanization #knife violence #injury #tw blood #honey's writing

[tasteracha]

kinktober - day thirteen

kink: camcorder with minho ft. chan

warnings: smut - MINORS DNI. threesome (kind of), chan is a perv, afab!reader, teensy bit of manipulation

chan didn’t think this would happen when he asked minho to borrow his camcorder a couple days ago - all he wanted was to record some practice videos to upload to youtube. he didn’t think before he took it, didn’t think before he looked through minho’s old footage of his dancing that he keeps for memories, didn’t think before watching what he watched. 

it was a video of you. and minho. 

in his defense, the storage on the memory card was almost full and chan was just looking for something that could be deleted to free up space - and wouldn’t minho check the storage to see if there was anything he didn’t want chan seeing first? if anything, this is minho’s fault. 

sure, it’s minho’s fault that chan is one second away from jerking off to the sight of you getting fucked into oblivion by his best friend, the grainy pixels leaving little to nothing to his imagination. your moans sound tinny from the low quality speakers, minho’s grunts accenting the sounds coming from your mouth as he fucks you up against the studio mirrors. your breath is fogging up from where your face is pressed against the glass, sweaty handprints from the both of you staining the surface. minho better have cleaned those mirrors after that, chan’s delirious mind supplies as he continues watching the footage he should have turned off minutes ago. 

the video is from the same angle as their dance practices, the same walls on display and oh fuck chan doesn’t think he’s been this hard in his entire life. that’s the room that he dances in, he’s leaned up against that exact mirror, panting and overexerted, he’s been yelled at by minho for messing up the choreography in that exact place. 

he tries. he tries so hard to forget what he saw, to get the image of you shaking apart when you came out of his head. to stop thinking about the way your skin went white from where minho was gripping it. to restrain from gripping his cock in his hand under his blanket with his eyes screwed shut and the symphony of your combined noises playing in his head like a song he couldn’t get off of repeat. 

but how could he when he had to go back into that rehearsal room just a few days later to practice? what excuse could he possibly give his members about why he wanted to switch rooms from this one? the room that’s full of their most precious memories, full of laughter and tears and piles of sweaty cuddles on the floor? no, he couldn’t. what he could do was avoid that spot like it was poisonous, standing on the farthest edge of the room after practice was over, chugging water and thinking about how you both have probably fucked on the floor there, or those couches, or by the closet door. 

he doesn’t notice you at first, sliding into the room to hand minho a cold water bottle and press a kiss to his cheek. the other members were slowly trickling out, passing tired greetings to you as they shuffled past, eager to go home and shower. when only minho and him were left, you went to approach him only to find his eyes already on you, glazed over at you but not really seeing. 

he looks at you and all he can see is the way you were pressed up against the glass, your tits squished but somehow still bouncing, the screwed up features of your face when you were overwhelmed in pleasure. all he can hear are those metallic sounding moans, all he can feel is the urge to fall at your feet-

“bang chan,” minho snaps, jerking chan out of his fantasy. “where is my camera? you’ve had it for a while, i wanted to record the new choreography.”

“oh!” chan is starting to panic, he didn’t think that minho would ask after the camcorder so soon. he didn’t have time to prepare, didn’t have the energy to create an excuse. “there was too much storage on it, so i didn’t get to record what i wanted and i forgot to ask you about it.”

he’s biting his tongue now, cursing himself for saying too much. couldn’t he just have said he would give it back tomorrow?

“i didn’t think about the storage,” minho starts, not sounding like he had anything to hide. did he truly not know about what he had left on that camera for chan to find? “did you see anything interesting?”

he knows. he knows. chan is beginning to sweat, he can feel it in his hair and under his arms and he wants to bury a hole by his feet so he can jump into it and never climb out. 

“haha, no,” he says, packing up the rest of his bag so that he didn’t have to look at minho. or you, who’s been silent since you walked in, watching him carefully. for all he wasn’t scared of minho and his adorably empty threats, he was terrified of you. “i didn’t even look. just saw that the storage was full, you know?”

he sounds awkward. he is awkward, right now. 

“chan,” you trail a finger down his arm, speaking for the first time since you arrived and he’s gone, your touch leaving raised hairs in your wake. you should be angry, you should be livid, why are you touching him like that- “come over tonight to mine would you? we wanted to have you over for a while, minho wanted to cook for you. and you can give him the camera back then.”

“oh,” chan is sure that his face is flushed completely red by now, but he nods anyways. “sure! i’m free tonight. i’ll be there at seven? or whenever is good for you, i’m free. wait, i said that already-”

“perfect,” minho purrs, taking one of your hands in his and laying the other on chan’s shoulder. “seven is perfect. see you then, chan.”

--

he gets to your place early and sits in his car for 30 minutes, chewing at his fingernails and tapping his leg at an alarming pace. the more he thinks about it the more he overthinks - did they just want to yell at you in private instead of at the company building? did they really not know? what if he confessed and they didn’t know? what if they never speak to you again?

he has to take several deep breaths before leaving his car, and again before he knocks on your door. he’s ushered in by you, bright smiles on yours and minho’s faces as you take the camera out of his hands, and by the time he has a glass of wine in his hand and he’s sitting on the couch while minho puts the finishing touches on dinner he’s almost fully relaxed. he’s been here so many times, your apartment being a refuge to all the boys when they wanted to get away from the dorms for a bit. this is normal. 

“let me put something on for us to watch,” you say at the same time minho asks chan if he wanted more wine, and you sneak the camcorder towards the tv while chan was distracted, sniping at minho that no he doesn’t want a second glass he’s not even halfway through the first one. you plug it in, smiling when it connected to the right input immediately. you scroll through the files, fingers calm on the remote even though you were shaking in anticipation inside. when you get to the right file you click on it, turning up the volume. 

the image of you and minho takes over the tv, sounds coming out of the tv in a much better quality than what chan had been used to. his head whips towards the tv, wine forgotten and eyes wide as he takes in the video that you put on.

“what?” he asks, almost in a gasp as his eyes flicker back and forth between the tv, you, and minho, who had finally exited the kitchen and joined you in the living room.

“we thought since you loved it so much, we would watch it together,” minho explains, much more casually than one should be when playing a video of them fucking their girlfriend in front of their best friend. “why, is something wrong?” 

“i-”, chan cuts himself off, panic choking his voice. “i’m so sorry-”

“hey,” you move towards him, sitting against his side and taking one of his hands in both of yours. “that isn’t what this is about. we don’t mind, okay?” 

“we couldn’t let him sputter on for a bit more?” minho pouts, crossing his arms at you. “it was funny.”

“min, be nice,” you scold, smiling at chan. 

“channie, i would have beat you up when i found out if i wanted to,” minho relents, siting on chan’s other side, sandwiching him between you both. “she likes that you watched it. i like it. okay? just relax and be good for us.”

minho’s words wash over chan, leaving him in a sort of daze. be good for us, minho had said. he could do that, chan was so good at being good. he melts against the couch, the heat from both of your bodies enveloping him as he takes in the video he’s seen over and over already. 

“you planned this?” he asks, breathless and mesmerized. 

“of course i did,” minho scoffs, squeezing one of chan’s thighs in his warm hand. “you think i would just let you watch that without planning it? i’m not that stupid.”

you’re not, but maybe i am, chan thinks, and he only realizes that he said it out loud when you start giggling and lean your head into his shoulder to hide your laughter. 

he wants to retort, to somehow defend himself, but then video-minho changes his angle and starts fucking video-you even harder than before and whatever words were in his throat stayed behind the lump there.

“do you want to do that to her?” minho asks, hand trailing up chan’s thigh, leaving behind phantom pinpricks of sensation. he lets his blunt nails rake over chan’s leg, the delicate material of his workout pants providing no protection. 

“can i?” chan breathes out, looking at you like he’s never seen anything more beautiful. 

“please,” you wiggle your legs open a bit, a clear invitation. his hand comes to rest on your thigh and it’s so big, so much bigger than minho’s. he slides it up, to the hem of your oversized shorts, dipping his fingers closer to your panties and -

he stops. 

“but, i also want…” he ducks his head down, trying to hide his flush before glancing at minho through his lashes. minho’s brow furrows, confusion clear on his face before he puts it together. 

“oh, my channie,” he coos, running a hand through chan’s hair. “we can do that too, i promise. but my girl has been waiting so long for you, you don’t want to make her wait even longer, do you?”

chan shakes his head, entire body swaying with the force of it, reenergized by minho’s promise of more. he turns towards you and you feel your breath leave your body as you turn weighless for a moment, landing back on earth to find yourself straddling chan’s lap. 

“you’re strong,” you praise, feeling up his biceps as you get comfy in his lap, ignoring minho’s indignant yelp next to you. chan beams up at you, both of his hands cupping your ass and using it as leverage to pull you closer into him. his dick is hard in his pants, poking against your crotch, and you both let out lewd moans when you grind into him a bit. he glances at minho, a little insecure and still kind of uncomfortable, but minho just pulls him in and kisses him deeply. it’s a sight to see, like a movie playing out right in front of your eyes, the love of your life and his best friend making out right in front of you. chan tenses a bit but melts into the couch even faster, letting minho lead him into blissful submission as he cups his face and moves it right how he wants it. 

when they part, chan’s lips are cherry red and so wet, glistening in the light from the lamps decorating the room. you can’t help but kiss him too, licking minho’s essence off of him and reveling in the way he bucks up into you like he can’t help it. 

chan slides his lips to the right, peppering kisses to the corner of your lips, across your jaw and down your neck. he sucks at the spot right under your ear that makes you see stars, heat bursting in your lower belly. he was utterly intoxicated by your scent, your clean, floral body wash taking over his senses until he was all but panting into your neck. 

it almost hurts to pull back from him, it’s like a stab right to your heart when he makes a wounded noise at the loss of contact, but you need more from him. any thoughts that you might have had of seducing him, of wining and dining him and showing him how much you really wanted him, died out once you felt his hands on you. you’ve been crushing on this man for almost as long as you’ve been crushing on minho, and you weren’t going to give this opportunity any time to ruin itself; you knew chan, knew how his self-consciousness and second-guessing worked, and if you wanted him you needed to take him now before he changed his mind. 

you reach for the drawstring on his pants, pulling it open and sticking your hand in, rubbing him through his boxers. next time you’d have more decorum, you’d suck him off until he was right on the edge and make him sob when you refuse to let him come, you’d let him fuck you into the mattress and let him pin you down, but not right now. 

“on the couch?” chan asks, eyes wide as they flicker back and forth between you and minho. 

“you know we’ve done it in worse places,” minho says, humor lining his words as the lust takes over his eyes at the thought of what was about to happen. a burst of affection takes over you as you look at him, your perfect soulmate who understood you and your desires and shared them with you like you shared everything else. 

“never knew you were such an exhibitionist,” chan snipes back at him, gasping when you tug him out of his pants and boxers, the stretch of his waistband making it easy. you only have to stroke him a few times until he’s fully hard, his cock red and leaking where it curves into his lower belly. 

“minho, help me,” you ask, blinking at minho through your eyelashes, and he knows what you want immediately; he hooks his fingers through your shorts and panties at once, pulling them down to your knees, just far down enough for you to be able to rub your bare pussy against chan’s cock.

“god, you’re so wet,” he curses, throwing his head back and sighing in time with the movement of your hips.

“for you, channie,” your voice cracks when his cock catches on your clit, and both of them are smart enough not to say anything about it. minho moves though, ever impatient, and lines chan’s cock up against your hole with practiced ease. 

“thought about this a lot, did you?” you tease, knowing very well that both of you thought about this a little too much, sharing fantasies in hushes whispers when you were supposed to be asleep. . 

minho clicks his tongue and presses himself up behind you, still fully clothed even though his dick was rock hard in his jeans. he places his hands on your hips and pushes you into chan, driving his cock deep into you. you collapse against chan’s chest, a surprised yelp leaving you at the unexpected fullness. chan echoes you, burying his face into your neck with a shudder. 

“tease me again and see what i’ll do,” he says darkly, hands still in a death grip on your waist. you take his threat for what it is, knowing that he would follow through with his words, and you start grinding into chan in slow circles. his hands circle your waist, fingers tangled with minho as they let you set the pace. 

“please,” chan whimpers, his breath tickling your neck. you want to tease him so badly, but how could you when he asked so politely? you shift your knees further onto the couch, gaining leverage so you could lift your hips higher up. you drop back down onto him and you both moan in unison. 

you lift back up and drop down, again and again and again, finding a rhythm that fits both of you perfectly. it’s like a dance, moves that feel practiced and eased, spurred on by minho’s soft whispered praises towards the both of you. the video playing on the tv had reached its end, and every sound coming from you was heightened. 

“what a pretty show, all for me,” minho moves away and finally takes his cock out of his jeans, fisting it and immediately starting to stroke himself off at a fast pace. you can’t see him, you miss the warmth of him against your back, but chan can’t take his eyes off of him, transfixed by the sight of his best friend jerking himself off to him and you as you’re bouncing on top of him. 

you’re shaking apart on top of chan before you realize it, orgasm taking over you as you continue to ride him. you clench around him hard, and he’s spilling into you a second later, jerky little thrusts shaking your body on top of his. minho curses as he comes a moment later, too keyed up to extend his pleasure for long. this wasn’t about him anyways; at least, not this time. 

you lift off of chan with a hiss, sending him a look of sympathy when he shivers in overstimulation. you don’t make it far, pulling him down to lay against you, your back pressed up against his front. both of your pants are still halfway off, but you can’t be bothered to care right now - you’re utterly exhausted, even from just one orgasm. 

the both of you barely register minho draping a blanket over you before settling on the floor in front of you, leaning his head on the couch right by where chan’s hands were around your stomach. it’s so domestic, the three of you drifting towards one another so naturally that it just feels right. later, you’d get up and eat the now-cold dinner minho had painstakingly prepared, but for now you were content to lay in comfortable quiet.

“wait,” chan breaks the silence, and you have to resist the urge to groan at him. “how did you know that i watched it? what if the storage really was just full?”

“please, you’re too obvious,” minho teases, voice soft and drowsy, and you can hear the smile in it. “plus, you were watching it in the dorms, idiot. you’re lucky it wasn’t jeongin that caught you.”

--

kinktober masterlist

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #lee know smut #lee minho smut #bang chan smut #bang chan imagines #minchan #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader

[strawbeerossi]

Stuffing Stockings

Pairing: Wife!Reader x Husband!Spencer

Description: Spencer and you have been married for ten years with a beautiful six year old daughter. Whenever she gives you her Christmas list, you notice something new on the list and bring it up to your husband.

Content/Warnings: Dad!Spencer, discussions of expanding family, interest in being pregnant/wanting another baby, breeding kink, oral sex (f rec), penetrative sex, mention of failed test and disappointment, happy ending.

Word Count: 3.5K

Merry Christmas, my sweeties! Santa T is giving you a present because of how much I love you all!

“Mama, I have my Christmas list ready!” Matilda announced, a bright smile on her face revealing the front tooth that the tooth fairy had recently come to take. She was a spitting image of Spencer, beautiful honey colored irises and soft brunette curls that framed her face, not to mention her intellect and her determination that no doubt her father had an influence on. 

“Your Christmas list? You’re early,” You smiled fondly as you looked over at the flower filled calendar on the wall closest to the stove, your coffee cup held comfortably between your hands. “Let me hear it, come on!” You urge on, an excited grin on your face. 

You always loved Christmas, however having Matilda just made the holidays so much better. Nothing compared to seeing her excitement whenever you’d place wrapped gifts under your Christmas tree, or when you’d ask her to help you make Christmas treats that her and Spencer would end up eating just days after they were made. 

You wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

“Well. I would like an American Girl doll, Rebecca Rubin to be exact.” Not a surprise. She loved dolls, her father spoiling her with any accessory or set she asked for. “And then I would like some light up sneakers, please. Sam has some at school and I think they are so cool!” She continued. The rest of the things she lifted were usual for a little girl. Until she got to the last thing on that list. 

“And then I want a little brother or sister.” She concluded, a wide grin on your face. The mere suggestion had you nearly choking on the mouthful of coffee, your eyes widening some. “Uncle Luke and aunt Penny said that I have to write it in my list so it happens!” 

Penelope and Luke. Classic. 

“A baby brother or sister?” You repeated, watching those beautiful curls bounce as the kindergartner nodded her head. “You do know that they won’t be here in time for Christmas if that happens, right?” You asked, wanting to break it gently to her that even if she got what she wanted, it would be well past Christmas before she got a sibling. 

“Oh. I know. Babies grow in mommy’s bellies for nine whole months. Which seems like a long time but I think it’ll go by fast! Oh please, mama?! A baby would be cute and cuddly, even whenever they are cranky!” 

The begging was tugging at your heart. She really wanted this, didn’t she? You and Spencer were financially stable enough for you to stay home while he worked with the BAU, not to mention that you both could definitely handle Matilda and a new baby. “You know I have to talk to daddy about this before we make a decision.”

After that, the idea of another baby was stuck in your mind. Your first pregnancy was rough, however you still really did enjoy the process of growing a future scholar who would change the world. Just thinking about it had you reminiscing, especially when it came to being pregnant. You could remember every appointment, the announcement to your friends and families, all the excitement that you and Spencer felt with every heartbeat and every little kick. 

Your husband had gotten home relatively early on a Saturday evening after a long case in Tampa, Florida. He was toeing his shoes off by the front door in an effort to surprise you and Matilda, the two of you unaware he was even coming home today. You were in the kitchen making dinner while your shared daughter was at the table, happily coloring in her new coloring book. 

 It was a blissful sight, the domesticity of it all bringing normalcy to Spencer’s busy and sometimes abnormal feeling life. “You two look peaceful,” He decided to speak up, Matilda quickly turning in her chair to look at her father. With a wide smile and teary eyes, she was quickly leaping from the chair to run into your husband’s expecting arms. “Hi!” He chuckled fondly while kissing her cheek sweetly. 

“I missed you!” She whined out, keeping a tight hold on her father. “I thought you weren’t gonna home until after Christmas!” She added on, making Spencer’s heart drop. He loved his job but he hated being away for what could’ve been weeks at a time. That was the hardest part. 

“Hey, I’m home now and I’m gonna be here for Christmas. I promise. In fact,” He was picking up Matilda while resting her on his hip. “I need to see your Christmas list!” He grinned while bouncing his daughter. “Mama, where’s the list?” Spencer then asked as he turned his attention to you. 

“Oh, mama needs to talk to you about that!” The six year old in his arms perked up, making Spencer look at you with an amused, yet questionable look. 

“Talk to me? About what? Don’t tell me that Tilly wants to get a car or something already.” Spencer teased. A car might’ve been easier convincing depending on how he felt about expanding the family. 

“Not exactly a car,” You laughed a bit while grabbing the list that had been neatly folded and stuck to the fridge with a magnet. “She wants a new American girl doll, a new accessory set to go with said doll, light up sneakers, a dollhouse,” You paused while reading over the last item. “And a baby brother or sister.” 

Spencer felt like the items on the list were easy enough. A doll, some accessories, a dollhouse and sneakers. He could knock that out with just one shopping trip. However whenever he heard the last item, his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “A new brother or sister, huh?” He asked slowly, glancing at the little girl who smiled widely. 

“I know the baby won’t be here for Christmas, daddy.” Matilda just knew by the look in his eyes that he didn’t wanna break the news she’d have to wait for that. Her reassurance had him taking in a breath of relief though. That little girl was too smart for her own good. 

“Well. That’s a big decision. You think you’re ready to be a big sister? Cause babies are a lot of work.” Spencer asked, a smile on his face at her sheer excitement he was entertaining the idea. “They cry a lot. Plus, they always need a lot of attention. That’ll mean that sometimes mama and daddy will be busy with the baby.” He said softly while rubbing her back. 

“I know and it’s okay! Babies need more help because they can’t really eat on their own or go potty in the bathroom, so that’s why you and mommy will need to pay extra attention sometimes. But babies are small and cute! And they always want cuddles!” Now that sounded like something Penelope Garcia would say of course she’d gotten to Matilda about the idea. She was just saying at the office that she was wanting another baby around. 

You offered a smile. “Well, it sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into it, Tilly! You know that me and dad have to talk about it though, as grownups.” You added, although judging by your husband’s wide smile and the twinkle in his eye, he was already sold on the entire Christmas list. Well, maybe this was easier to convince than a new car. 

After dinner and baths were in order, it  wasn’t long before you and Spencer were tucking Matilda into bed for the night. Gently closing the door behind you both, Spencer finally turned his attention to you. “A new baby. Wow..” He brought up the idea immediately, his arms gently wrapping around your waist. “How do you feel about the idea?” 

You smiled, body leaning back against his as you let out a soft hum of content. “Well, at first I was wary. Then the more I thought about it.. The more I really wanted it.” You said softly, head tilting up to face him more. “I mean, I think we’ve got this parenting thing down. Plus, I miss being pregnant and having a baby around. I feel like it’s going to be a positive change for us. Parents of two.”

That was all Spencer needed to hear to have him sold completely. “I agree. We are pretty good at this.” He chuckled a bit while moving to press a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s always fun trying too, huh? Maybe All our practicing will pay off.” He teased, making you laugh as you were playfully hitting his arm. “Hey! I’m just saying what we are both thinking!” He laughed in return. 

The both of you had retired to your bedroom for the night, gently closing the door behind you both. “It’s so good to have you home. I’ve missed you.” You sighed, offering a smile as you were heading over to sit on the edge of your shared bed. “It’s just not the same without you home but I know you have to save the world.” You smiled fondly, watching as your husband was shedding from his clothes. 

“I know, honey. I miss being home with you and Tilly more than anything when I have to be gone.” Spencer expressed his own feelings before heading over to you, kneeling in front of you with a soft smile. “But I’m glad to be home now,” He began, pressing kisses to your legs while getting settled between them. His hands were working on the button of your shorts before tugging them down your legs. “Besides, I’m gonna be here for the holidays and I even took the time off to make sure of it.” He hummed, his kisses moving to your inner thighs. 

“Working on the list early, I see.” You teased, brushing the mop of brunette curls from your husband’s face as he was playfully nipping on your plush inner thigh, lifting his head. 

“Guilty. I feel like this is the most expensive present Tilly is getting.” He teased, the both of you sharing a little giggle before he was going right back to where he started. 

Those kisses ended with your hips being tugged close to the end of the bed, his tongue lapping over your clothed clit. “God, I’ve missed you.” He murmured, hands working to tug your panties down your legs. Spencer was absolutely pleased with the sight of your glistening pussy, mouth salivating at the sight. It had been far too long for his liking. 

“Pretty girl. You look like you’ve missed me too.” He purred, tongue moving to flick over your throbbing bud, only chuckling as you were already clutching his hair. He didn’t make an effort to tease you long, tongue already delving into the warmth of your cunt as he was so focused on drinking every ounce of your essence, taking whatever you had to give him. 

“Spencer, fuck.” You squeaked, legs practically locking around his head to keep him in place as he was too drunk on lapping and sucking at your desperate pussy. The thought of a new baby excited him in more ways than one. 

There was the calm and innocent way that just had him thrilled to have a new baby and expand your beautiful family. Then there was the dirty and not so innocent side of him that knew there would be a lot of nights where he was stuffing your pussy just in an effort to get that positive test. Just the thought of his cum dripping down your trembling thighs was enough to have him hard as a rock, his cock begging for attention while he was so focused on giving you all of his. 

While his tongue feverishly lapped at your wetness, his hands were gripping your hips just a little tighter. Truth be told, Spencer could get off merely from cunnilingus alone. He fed off of your pleasure, the way you would shove his head more into your weeping cunt for more was enough to make his cock twitch in his boxers right now. 

Although even through all the excitement, he was soon pulling away from your pussy much to both of your dissatisfaction. “I feel like I’m gonna cum in my boxers and I’m not wasting what I could be giving you,” He added on, breathing labored as he was quickly getting up to shed his boxers while you were quick to do away with your clothes on your torso, shirt and bra thrown somewhere out of sight and out of mind. 

With one hand tugging at his cock, the other was quickly helping you scoot back on your bed, knowing you’d end up flying off if he dared pull you even just an inch closer from your current spot. 

“Comfortable?” He asked, watching you simply grab his arm to pull him on top of you. You didn’t even mind the feeling of his body crushing you for a split second, you knew that you needed him, now. Spencer was adjusting himself into a more comfortable position on top of you, his hand sliding between your thighs. He collected some of your arousal on his fingers before holding them up to show them off to you. 

You knew what was coming next, your mouth now open as you were waiting for the intrusion of his fingers. He learned it was the easiest way to keep you quiet when you needed to be. As you took the digits in your mouth, you were sucking on his fingers. “There we go.” Spencer praised as he was shifting, now pushing his leaking cock into your pussy with a soft groan. 

“I love you.” He breathed, letting his hips slowly snap against yours just to build you up for what was to come. Your face was contorted in pleasure as you muffled an ‘I love you’ around his fingers in return. 

The thought of you being pregnant was bringing out an animalistic side of your normal gentle husband. He loved seeing you pregnant with your first, it made him feel like he was finally contributing to society in the aspect of bringing another potential genius into the world who would do amazing things. The way you looked swollen with his child filled him with pride. 

It was also a bragging right. Yes, he had your hand in marriage but he also cemented the fact you were his. You were getting filled with his cum, begging him to ravage you the way you deserved. He was the only one who could make you feel good. 

The thought of you being pregnant with his second child was enough to make his thrusts get harder and faster. It was the ultimate act of love to carry his child, to raise a family with him. The ultimate act of intimacy of allowing him to know the pleasures of a family and a successful marriage. 

You were squirming underneath him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Spencer was all too focused on the images flooding his mind. “I’m gonna cum.” He panted. “You want me to fill you up? Give you a baby? Fuck.” Cursing was pretty rare for Spencer but just the mere slip of a curse word had your pussy clenching around his cock, signaling you were ready as well. 

With a few more sloppy snaps of his thrusts, you could feel the warmth of his spent flooding your cunt, your legs trembling as the sensation was enough to have you reaching your climax. “Fuck.” You panted, your husband’s fingers now being pulled out of your mouth. 

His face was flushed, brunette curls plastered to his sweaty forehead as he looked down at you. “You know, I wish we had this idea before. Christmas is coming up so soon, we won’t even be able to get a positive test for her in time for the holiday if we get lucky after this time.” 

“I think that Tilly is gonna be happy either way, to be fairly honest. You should’ve seen the way she looked at me when she was asking for a new sibling. She was so excited.” You recalled, smiling in content as you were slowly, but surely, catching your breath.

With soft eyes, Spencer leaned down to press a sweet kiss against your lips. “I’m really happy she brought it up first. I’ve been wanting another baby for a while but I didn’t want you to feel obligated.” The confession had your hand lightly swatting at your husband’s chest.

“Why didn’t you talk to me before?! I never would’ve felt obligated. I’ve always wanted a big family, you know that.” 

The reassurance had your husband chuckling fondly. “I know, I know. I promise that for the next little Reid, I’ll get to you before our daughter.” He teased, nose nuzzling into your cheek before he was pushing himself out of bed. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, mama.”

—--

It was currently the third week of January, Matilda freshly back in school for the second semester. It was after you dropped Tilly off at school that you were feeling off. You’d been sick the past week or so, mostly just chalking it up to be a bug Matilda seemingly brought home. The more awful you felt, the more you were worrying. Being pregnant wasn’t a problem at all, however the way you would get your hopes up would be.

You’d pushed the idea back for a while, it wasn’t until you were sick for the fifth time that you figured that the test would be better than nothing. You’d only gotten one negative, however with the brain of your husband and his facts about conception, he still gave you some hope.

The sound of the timer going off in the bathroom snapped you out of your thoughts. It was now or never. As you approached the bathroom, you could feel your heart begin to race. If you were pregnant, that would be the best little surprise for your little family. If not, well, you’d at least get to be heartbroken in peace.

Taking in a deep breath and mustering up all of your courage, you were lifting the test from the sink. You felt like you were going to be sick from a mixture of your ailment as well as the nerves. You exhaled the breath you took in seconds before, eyes fixed on the test.

Pregnant.

You nearly fainted, free hand covering your mouth from the surprise. Pregnant, you’re pregnant. Pregnant!!!!

You were thrilled, the test being tucked away in its box before you were hiding it away. You were going to have to show Spencer and Matilda when they got home. You didn’t have the strength to keep it a huge secret and put a surprise together, they needed to know as soon as possible. 

Spencer had gotten to go home early in order to pick up Matilda, something rare that Emily gave him the chance to do considering he was away so much as is. If only those two knew what they were coming home to. 

You were just getting finished with a snack for your daughter whenever you heard the sound of keys jingling in the door. It’s now or never!

“We are home!” The little voice called from the living room, the child taking off her coat and backpack before making sure to hang them up.

“Hi you two.” You offered a smile, pressing a kiss to your daughter’s cheek, followed by a quick peck on your husband’s lips. “Tilly, I have you a snack.” She hummed fondly, watching the little brunette hurry to the table. “You might wanna sit down as well,” You informed your husband, who raised an eyebrow. 

Without question, he’d approached the table before sitting himself down. “Are we in trouble?” He teased, making you roll your eyes fondly.

“No. I just have something I need to tell you both.” You hummed, grabbing the wrapped box from the counter before placing it on the table. “I found this in the closet. It was addressed to you two, I think we forgot it around Christmas.”

“Forgot it? Mama, we never forget presents.” Matilda spoke around a mouthful of apple slices, although her curiosity was piqued as she leaned against the table. “Open it, daddy!” She urged.

As the colorful wrapping paper was peeled away, the male was opening the box. He knew what it was, however he wanted Matilda to have the first big reaction. The minute that the stick was on the table, you could practically see Matilda’s eyes pop out of their sockets from surprise. “Does that say pregnant?!” She asked, looking at her mother with a wide smile. “There’s a baby?!” 

Her excitement made you want to cry your eyes out. “There’s a baby!” You gushed happily. “Now, I still have to go to the doctor because I don’t have specifics just yet,” You began, although your daughter was all too happy to quickly run into your body, arms wrapped around your torso. 

“We are gonna have a baby!!!!”

#spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #dad!spencer

[norrizzandpia]

i am Politely Asking for the lando post-race imagine you mentioned 👀👀👀

Your guys’ wish is my command 🤭

All He Needed Was Her (LN4)

Summary: Following the Vegas ‘23 crash, Y/n and Adam find Lando in his hospital bed, yearning for the comfort of his girlfriend’s touch.

Warnings: a panic attack, inferences of death, Lando crashing

Note: that crash was so hard to watch and i still have not recovered

Silence encompassed the space around her, her mind sick with the images of Lando’s crash. What she thought could potentially be his first race win had turned into her worst nightmare as Lando’s car laid smashed against the protecting fences. Her mouth stayed agape as she listened to her boyfriend’s broken “I’m ok,” followed by concerning whimpers and groans. Her eyes frantically searched the room, the faces of his loved ones burned into her brain with their watery eyes and panicked looks. She couldn’t bear the tension within the space, the expressions of the people around her like he had died. The room closed in on her quickly, allowing for no space to breathe or get out of the anxiety filling her lungs. She felt trapped, a panic attack coming on inevitably when she saw the way his hand shook, his arms trying to push himself out of the car yet failing continuously.

She shoved the headset off her ears, shutting out the taunting sounds, before throwing herself into the crowd behind her and pushing them to the side as she tried desperately to claw herself out. She couldn’t turn her head back to see the screens, not even when applauding emitted and a good sign emerged. Y/n reached the door, her hand grasping the handle and hesitating. A large hand grasping her shoulder called her back, willing her to open her eyes and see the survival of her love. When she turned around, her eyes looking up, she was met with the soft look of Adam, Lando’s father.

No matter how comforting he was trying to be, his bloodshot eyes reminded her of the risks her boyfriend took, the chances of him not getting out of that car after a race.

It was too much.

Her heart beat out of her chest and she struggled to find air, her impending anxiety surely, gradually, painfully encroaching her being.

Adam, being familiar with the anxiety attacks his son got, saw the signs, opening the door behind her quickly and shoving her into the empty hallway. His hands landed on her biceps, gripping them as he shook her gently.

“Y/n?” His voice was distant and Y/n wanted to run toward it, however nothing was ever that easy.

He tried again, “Y/n, breathe with me.”

Her mind understood, her lungs expanding shortly as he began to inhale. Tears seeped through the crack of her lips, adding to the drowning she felt she was enduring.

She blubbered and sobbed as she tried to follow his pattern, proving difficult when suffocation seemed probable.

Nevertheless, Adam’s determination triumphed, her mind slowing down as her body caught up.

He looked at her with pity as she came down, his eyes swimming in a certain sympathy she didn’t recognize. This was deeper, he was seeing the pain she was bearing, relating to it because of the exact connection they both nurtured with the boy.

His hands left her arms, stilling at his sides as he began to coax her toward his driver’s room, “How about you rest for a while? That seemed really bad.”

She shook her head immediately, “No, I need to be awake for Lando. What if he needs to go to the hospital?”

Adam closed his eyes as he nudged her into the small room, “Then, I will come wake you. But, for now, he’s going to go to the circuit’s medical center and there’s nothing we can do. It’s best if you allow yourself to relax after that.”

She knew he was right, more so because he sounded exactly like his son. When she had these horrid experiences, Lando was right beside her immediately, gently leading her to any surface where she could lie down. He knew exactly how to make it go away, she never expected to have to do it without him or because of him. He was consistently advocating for her rest after an attack, something that always helped her recover more quickly.

That memory, those habitual instances, persuaded her to give in to Adam’s pleas. He smiled at her as she brought a blanket over her body, Lando’s scent encompassing her body.

“I promise I’ll be back when I have updates.”

She nodded, trusting him like she had for the past few years, “Okay, thank you.”

He closed the door with a nod, the dark haunting her enough to close her eyes and lean into the quiet, peaceful embrace of sleep.

—

She was awoken by shaking, more specifically Adam’s hands shaking her upper body.

“Y/n, wake up.” He whispered, his words guiding her back to the world.

Her eyes fluttered open, “Yeah?”

He seemed stoic, rigid and stressed, something that made Y/n truly wake up, “Lando’s at the hospital. They said we can meet him there.”

She shot up from her laid down position, “What?! The hospital?! Is he okay?!”

His father sighed beside her, getting up and showing how antsy he was to move when he lingered by the door, “I don’t know.”

—

The pair burst through the doors of the hospital, launching themselves at the nurses who sat behind the desk. Their words mixed together as they sputtered out his name, occupation, and situation. This proved to be inefficient because the women looked back at them blankly.

Y/n tried again, “We are here to see Lando Norris. He is a Formula 1 driver and he was involved in an accident.”

It dawns on the employee and her head tilts slightly, “I can’t give out information on him because of his status and occupation. I am sorry. Unless you can prove you are family to him then I can’t give you anything.”

Adam’s hand flew to his pocket, whipping out his wallet and showing her his identification, proving his blood relation to Lando. Y/n watched with a heavy heart as she realized she had nothing to show, she wasn’t family. She was crushed as she realized he would be able to go on to see their boy without her.

When the woman gave him the room number, she gave it to him on paper so as to deter anyone overhearing, he bolted. He was right at the door that led to another hallway when he stopped and turned around, motions for Y/n to follow him.

“I need to see your proof of family relations.” The nurse beside her said expectantly whilst Adam moved back over to the desk.

She shook her head, “I’m his girlfriend. I don’t have proof of blood relations.”

The nurse shrugged, “Then, I’m sorry, I can’t have you go through.”

Y/n opened her mouth to fight back, but Adam interrupted her, “No, she has to. I’ve just shown you I’m his father, take my word for it. Please. My son needs her right now.”

The nurse seemed to be at a crossroads as her gaze flickered between Adam and Y/n. Finally, she nodded curtly and the two were running throughout the building. Down different hallways within the floor, they quickly reached his room. Without thinking, Adam charged in, a strong wave of emotion hitting him when he saw his son wrapped up in a hospital bed.

“Lando,” He sighed, arms falling around Lando’s body as he squeezed him softly, careful with him.

“Hi, dad. Thank you for coming. I’m sorry if I scared you.” He mumbled into his shoulder, hand laying loosely over the back of his father.

Y/n watched from the corner, tears pricking the sides of her eyes at the sight of him. She watched as they pulled back, Lando’s eyes meeting hers and softening with relief before Adam was coughing and excusing himself from the room.

When they were left alone, she walked slowly to him. She stood in front of him for a moment, both individuals taking in the other after the traumatic time apart. When he had had enough of not holding her in his arms, Lando reached out and pulled her closer to his body, arms linking around her hips as he stuffed his face into her chest. She breathed out as her hands tangled in his hair, both of them memorizing the way the other calmed them in such a state.

He clung to her, breathing steady as she whispered sweet, quiet words of love and encouragement to him.

“Sit with me?” He asked with a low volume, pulling back slightly and looking up at her.

She could never say no to his deep green eyes, “Always.”

He shifted to the side as she slid in next to him. She watched the way his eyes lingered over her lap. Chuckling, Y/n sat further against the wall, “Lay your head on my lap, baby.”

He smiled at her brightly, a childlike grin as he shuffled down and set his curly hair over her pants.

A silence passed before she was whispering again, “I love you so much. It was so scary seeing you crash today and I just could not live a life without you. I love you, Lan. You’ve ruined my life for the better. There’s no way I could ever go a day without you.”

He nodded below her, “I can’t either. I kept asking for you when I was at the circuit after the crash, but they kept telling me I couldn’t have any visitors with the impact I had just endured. I was so angry, all I wanted was you. I’ve been like a sitting duck as I stared at the wall and waited for you to arrive. But, now that you’re here, I already feel like I’m getting better. That’s your impact on me. I love you too, love. Being without you for that was worse than the crash itself.”

She looked down at him, leaning over to kiss his temple. When he felt the pressure, he turned his head. She had been pulling back, but got the hint when he looked up at her expectantly. He giggled as she leaned back down, meeting his lips with her own in an intimate, soft kiss.

When they pulled back, she watched his eyes slowly close when she began massaging his scalp and tugging gently at his brown hair. He moaned quietly at the feeling, stroking his hand over her leg as she comforted him with just her presence.

He buried his face further into her lap, breathing her in. By the change of angle, she lost sight of his face, only relying on the monitor to tell her he had fallen asleep when it evened out, reaching a rhythm.

Only then did Adam return, smiling lightly at his sleeping son laying in the lap of his girlfriend. Truly the sweetest sight, he thought, something he would’ve taken a picture of had Y/n been asleep as well.

He sat in the chair beside them, cocking his head at her.

“Thank you.”

The two words caused Y/n’s eyebrows to draw together, confusion etched into her face, “For what?”

Adam sighed and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, “For being there for him. Not just now, but all the time. He’s always put everyone else first. He’s always made it the biggest priority to make others feel good when he wasn’t at all. Cisca and I always wished for someone to come along and take care of him right back. Turns out our wishing wasn’t in vain. Here you are and he’s finally understanding what it’s like to be loved that way.”

Y/n stared at him for a moment, eyes averting back to her sleeping boyfriend strewn across her lap, before choking out, “Thank you, Adam. That means the world from you.”

“Just speaking the truth.” He shrugged, leaning back in his chair before kicking his legs up toward the end of the bed. He watched her lean her head back, scumming to sleep just like Lando, her hands still buried in his hair.

That was when he took the picture, sending it to the Norris Family group chat, it including Y/n, and assuring the members of Lando’s wellness.

Adam (2:35 AM)

Image Attachment

Adam (2:35 AM)

Lando’s okay! Don’t worry! All he needed was some medication to calm his nerves and Y/n 🧡

#mclaren #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagines #mclaren formula 1 #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris fic #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris #lando norris x you #lando norris edit #las vegas gp 2023

[rustedhearts]

i want your things in my room (fratboy!steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: steve harrington: resident frat boy heartbreaker. handsome, charming, good in bed—what's not to love? if only he loved you. based on this sexy thought of mine

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ rolly’s roller wheels blurbs commissions! ✶ blurbs!

tags: frat boy!steve, situationship, asshole-ish!steve, pining, kind of feral reader because i was feral writing this, smut.

"i want your things in my room, i miss you all of the time. i stalk myself on the internet just to see what you'll find...you look so cool, I wanna die. is it too soon to say what's on my mind?"

— in my room, julia wolf

for the lovely 🫧

wc: 2,095 (oops)

delta phi. saturday april 12th, 2009

Cords of muscle suffocated under the tight sleeve of a red cutoff—ripped while weight-lifting on the porch, you imagined. Knowing Steve, it was intentionally and meticulously cut in the bathroom mirror for a blurry cellphone image sent to another fling.

You never received texts like that. The only texts you received were late in the evening or at the crest of midnight:

you up?

coming over. unlock the back door.

The one trip-up in this eight month routine came two weekends ago at nine p.m.

coming over, brought you a surprise. want you to wear it saturday.

It was a tight white t-shirt promoting Steve for Delta Phi Senior President. You wore it like he asked, lingering in the basement corner of another Saturday party with a lukewarm beer you wanted to throw up when you saw hordes of other girls wearing the exact same thing.

He didn't even look at you that night.

But he messaged, an hour after you skulked home with a hoodie zipped over his face printed on your left tit.

didn't see you leave. can i swing by later?

He did. And you let him crawl over your naked body under a pink duvet and place his mouth wherever he liked. He didn't apologize, and you swallowed down the sharp sting of tears every time he told you how pretty you were—knowing every girl wearing his face that night received the very same treatment at one point.

You weren't special. You knew that. But he had such a way of making you feel like you were. Catching your eye through passing bodies, lifting his mouth in a sideways grin, wiggling his fingers in a tiny wave when he knew no one was looking. Cupping the back of your head in the checkout line at the coffeeshop when he passed by, because somehow he always knew when you were there. He never said a thing, but he had your heart stuttering every single time.

So, here you were. Another Saturday night in a dark Delta Phi corner, sipping a Twisted Tea and struggling to swallow past the lump of hurt in your throat when Steve's head turned to follow the path of a pretty and petite blonde. Watching his biceps flex under his sleeve, his hips turn in a pair of Levis often rumpled on your floor. You washed them once, when he came and got sick in your bathroom after a particularly intense recruitment night.

Steve lifted a wide hand and swept it through the front of his hair. You could almost smell it, the Old Spice soaked in those chestnut tresses. You used his bathroom on the second floor one time, found the red shampoo bottle resting on the edge of the tub.

And maybe you popped the cap and smelled it, closed your eyes and imagined Steve was right in front of you, pressing his cheek on your chest the way he did post-coital: panting wordlessly, letting you feel the warmth of his flesh clinging to yours, running your fingers through his hair to bring him back down.

Steve's eyes cutting your way yanked you from your warm, gut-wrenching thoughts of him. Over the swell of his own bicep: a pair of hazels fixing on your figure across the room. Your heart lurched to your throat when you locked gazes, fingers twitching to wave. He wouldn't wave back. You knew without a doubt.

But those lips quirked up in acknowledgement, and that was enough. Enough to have heat lapping at your face and coiling in your stomach. Enough to know he'd message after the party, when most of the crowd dispersed and his buddies wandered off to bed. Enough to know you'd feel his breath on your face tonight, feel his mouth over your body.

That was more than enough.

✶ ✶

You waited.

Waited—fully dressed on your bed, lamp clicked on in the darkness of the night—with the skin of your thumb between your teeth. Gnawing between glances at your phone, waiting for it to buzz with his name. The deeper the night grew, the hungrier you became. Hungry for his tongue sliding around your mouth, his fingers digging into your ribs with every pull back against his body. His palm cupped around your throat the way it often did when he took you from behind, keeping you braced against his chest so he could feel you struggle to catch your breath.

You waited. You bid your roommate goodnight through a closed door and waited. You peeled your outfit off layer by layer, checked your messages for his name, and waited. You laid back on your bed holding your phone to your faded-t-shirt-clad chest, and waited.

The hunger nestled between your legs, aching and pulsing with soreness. It was terrible how conditioned you were for Steve's attention. How horribly you craved it.

Somehow, his air of coolness made you want it more. When he avoided your eye, when your texts went unanswered, when he brushed by at a party and looped your pinkies together—you wanted him something awful.

But you wanted him most when you had him. When he was running his nose through the sweat on your neck, big hands sweeping over your stomach under the t-shirt he guided over your head. His t-shirt, always asked for in a groggy, early morning exchange before he left. When he was whispering—unwilling to wake your roommates—and promising that you were the only one he'd ever felt this close to.

"Swear nobody's made me feel so fuckin' high before," he'd say. "Love your body, baby, you're so pretty."

Tears squeezed at your lash line, burning as they spilled over. You swiped at them irritatedly, setting your phone on the nightstand and turning away from it.

And then it buzzed.

You flung your hands toward the vibration, snatching the scratched device eagerly.

coming.

missed you.

Falling back against your pillows, you let out a long, blissful sigh. He missed you. That was new.

Your phone buzzed with the long-awaited "here" text, and you had to catch yourself on the stair railing to avoid running toward the door. But the way you swung the door open and tugged him in did little to hide your excitement, and it had Steve grinning wide as you hurried back toward your room.

"Wait," he chuckled, stumbling over his sneakered feet. "Christ, you're quick to the belt tonight."

You clamped your bedroom door shut carefully, spinning around to find Steve toeing his shoes off at the end of your bed. His tongue prodded at the inside of his cheek when he turned to face you again. The smirk on his mouth was delicious.

Suddenly, all that hunger coursing through you fizzled to coyness. But Steve liked when you were shy. He thought it was cute.

"C'mere."

The way he called to you—softly, a sweeter version of his usual tone—always had your nerves tingling.

You stepped in front of him, giggling when he plucked at the faded, stained material of your bed shirt near your chest.

"Sexy 'jamas," he chuckled, swooping down to press your mouths together.

"Thought...you weren't...coming," you mumbled between detachments and quiet, wet smacks.

He said nothing this time, letting his hands drop to your hips to steer you around. He guided you onto the bed, and the pair of you moved like a well-oiled carnival ride until you reached the pillows. Two heavy palms pressed into the feathers on either side of your head, and Steve's mouth continued lapping at yours vigorously.

One thing about Steve was that he was always pleased to incorporate foreplay. He loved the art of kissing, and he knew it well.

Steve pulled away far too early, moving his lips to your cheek. Down your jaw, under the junction where nerves tingled for his attention under your ear. You fisted the thin fabric of his shirt as he dragged his nose across your jaw.

"Did ya miss me, honey?" His voice took on a low gravel that brought your hairs to their ends.

Your eyes fluttered between opened and closed, hips shifting on the bed. Your breath already shallowed.

"Mhm."

"Mhm? Tell me," he cooed, nose rubbing a small circle into your cheek, breath hot on your skin. "Tell me you missed me, pretty girl."

You blinked your eyes open, glazing over the length of his lashes and flecks of honey and emerald in his gaze. You could barely feel your own body, could barely form a sentence on your own.

"I missed you," you whispered dazedly.

Steve moved his eyes down to your stomach as he dragged the t-shirt toward your collarbones. His hand glided over your navel and between your breasts.

"Missed you, too. Take your shirt off f' me, sweetheart."

He knelt at the end of the bed and watched you undress intently, eyes tracing the curves of your body as he pressed to his knees and fumbled with the buckle of his belt. When the pair of you were bare, he returned to his place hovering above you, and you took your chance to roam your hands over his chest. Firm, warm, smooth-skinned. Lifting your back off the bed, you buried your nose in his throat and inhaled deeply. Steve's chuckle rumbled through you, but you couldn't find it in yourself to feel ashamed.

"Smell good," you remarked quietly.

Steve tipped his head away from your face until you settled back into the pillows. He grinned down at you there, hair curling over his forehead and toward his brow.

"Yeah? That's new."

You shook your head, tongue fat and dumb in your mouth. Your fingers traced down his arms bracing your head. "No...always smell good."

A swallow bobbed in his throat. The back of his finger nudged your cheek from the pillow beside you. "Yeah?"

You nodded this time, meeting his eye with what he could only call a lovestruck stare—all rounded and doe-like. "Yeah."

He wished you'd shut your eyes. He wished you'd stop looking at him like he was some sort of saint. He wished you'd stop letting him get away with all the shit he put you through.

Steve was quick to switch gears, pecking a short, painful kiss to your mouth before flipping you by the hips onto your stomach. You gasped at the quick and irritated pull of your hips upward until your ass was arched in the air. He pressed on the dip in your back and you let your stomach drop toward the mattress.

"Good," he sniffed. "Look good like this."

Because he couldn't see your eyes.

And you let him fuck you like that, pummeling so deep that you were buried in the mattress by the time he was done. You didn't cum and he knew it, and the pair of you settled flat with quiet gasps. He didn't press his cheek to your chest this time, didn't tangle your fingers together between sticky bedsheets. He laid there only a few silent moments before reaching for his pants.

"Hey," you called softly, propped up on your elbows. "You're not gonna stay?"

The broad muscles of Steve's back flexed and rolled as he hoisted his jeans over his hips and secured his belt. He pulled his shirt on without turning around, feet shoved into his sneakers before you could even sit all the way up.

"Nah," he said, turning only as he headed for the door. "Gotta...um, study."

Brows furrowing, a small giggle slipped from your mouth. "Study? You don't study."

Another swallow, noisy and paired with two eyes fixed on the floor. His voice neared a whisper when he spoke again. "Trying something new."

You watched him open the door just enough for him to fit through. You hugged your soiled sheets around your bare body and felt the hunger dim to hurt again.

Steve stepped into the doorway and turned his head an inch, but not enough to see those pretty features again. "Later."

You wanted him to miss you again. You wanted to press your nose back into his neck and breathe him in. You wanted him to bring his words down low where they belonged when he spoke to you. You wanted to be his girl for a few moments more, to feel his affection through every drag of his mouth and hands.

But the door closed, and you were left to watch him jog across the street through a sliver in the drapes instead.

Just another t-shirt. Just another girl in love with Steve Harrington.

#rolly! #steve harrington #fratboy!steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington au #steve harrington x female reader smut #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine

[dcxdpdabbles]

Danny and the Fan Blog part 2

Danny is trying to get a picture from the Gotham Bridge of its sister city, Bludhaven. He has dropped his invisibly, sure that being on the edge of a dangerous out-of-the-way ledge will keep unwanted mugging away.

He had flown down to the bottom metal part of the arch right smack in the middle- still far from the water but lower than where the cars and people were.

He sinks to his knees, hoping the bridge's light can get his shadow against the waves for an epic piece. Danny aims his lens, adjusting the focus again, and then presses the button.

At the exact moment, he does, a boat out rushes from underneath the arch of the bridge, and a body flings itself off the bridge's edge above him. The person twists masterfully midair, landing on the boat's deck with a soft thump and not a wasted movement.

Danny's mouth drops open, watching the boot disappear into the horizon before scrambling to see the photo.

It's gorgeous.

The water is highlighted by the golden glow of the street lanterns, and they bounce off the sleek black boat, with the skyscrapers of Bludhaven painting the perfect drop back. But what ties the picture together is Red Robin mid-fall, half twisted and arms above his head that its hard to tell if hes a fallen angel or a rising one.

He's got a half smile on his face, black hair blowing in the wind and Danny breath catches.

It's the best picture he's ever taken.

He stares at the screen of his camera, wondering how he could have been so lucky to have captured the perfect moment. Danny won't even have to do too much editing. It's ready to be posted right now.

He was so excited to share it that Danny abandoned his place, turning invisible and flying back to his apartment. He arrives to find Jazz working on her homework on the kitchen table, but her hand rests on a ghost gun until he drops his powers and becomes invisible.

Her face lights up at once, and her hand lifts from her weapon. "Danny! How was the photos tonight?"

"Only got one." He admits, sprinting forward to show her, "But look at which one!"

He brings up the image from the memory card, displaying it proudly. Jazz mouth slacks. "Woah, Danny, that's amazing! He looks so good in it! How on earth did you manage to get this?"

"Luck, really." He grins, reaching for a plate with apple slices and peanut butter that Jazz likely set out for him. It is his favorite snake.. "I was at the right place at the right time."

"And where exactly was this place?" He winces at the tone, he knows she doesn't like him taking too many risks, but it's not like he's in any real danger. Even the Meta collars that canceled people's powers would never work on him. Danny is a ghost, and no one has the technology for that unless someone finally starts taking his parents seriously.

Vlad has been fine since Jazz convinced him to see a therapist. He is currently in the ghost zone at some mental hospital retreat that has been doing wonders for him. They visit whenever chance they get.

"I may have been under the Gotham Bridge."

"Trigate Bridge or Brown Bridge?"

"There is more then one bridge?"

"Danny," Jazz sighs. "There are four bridges."

Danny shrugs, taking a bit from his snack, and starts his laptop. He's sending the photo onto his blog from his camera, watching the photo download with anticipation. "I don't know Jazz. I ignore stuff like that."

"Well, maybe you should. You have yet to learn how important it is to pay attention to the things around you in this city. Danger is around every corner. Just this afternoon, someone tried to steal my phone!"

Danny's head jerks up. "They what?"

"I know! I was just minding my business reading a fascinating article on child development in the tablet era when some thug walked right up to me with a gun. I would have handled it trust me, his stance was pathetic at best, but Red Hood came to my rescue." Here Jazz's face reddness and Danny has a moment to wonder if he could take Red Hood in a fight. Maybe. He's sure he would win but it would be a close call.

He would do it, too, anything to keep no good punks away from his sister.

Jazz sees the face his making and rolls her eyes. "What? I'm allowed to drool over boys every once in a while. Just like you do."

"I do not droll!" Danny shouts offended.

Jazz gestures to the laptop screen, uploading the photo onto his blog. "Sure. And you just happen to stare at Red Robin's photos for the artistic application."

"I-I do! I took them!" Danny shutters, watching his sister's face break into a teasing smile. He feels his own lips pull upwards against his will and suddenly, they are laughing. It's strange, how at ease they both feel here.

They were never this carefree back at their parent's home. The realization makes Danny feel slightly guilty for noticing- because it wasn't like his parents didn't love him- but there was always tension at home. Even before the accident, he knows now that it wasn't healthy.

Jazz must have felt the change too, because before while she was racing towards adulthood- always strung so tight and nervous- she missed out on being a typical teen. Danny never had a chance to sit down with her and gush about boys, nor had she ever prioritized making friends.

Sure, Jazz was pretty, brilliant, and basically the pride of Casper High, but Danny never noticed she had no friends. She never hung out with people at the mall, she never got invited to go out, and she never texted funny memes to others back home.

In Amity, people knew of and respected her, but no one was close to Jazz. Maybe that's why she got so excited to be part of Team Phantom when she first found out.

Jazz Fenton may have been the intelligent sibling, but Danny Fenton was the social one, leaving her feeling crippling lonely while he had his two best friends.

He knows that now.

"Speaking about drolling over boys- how's Jason?" Danny teases just as Jazz's phone buzzes with a new message. The notification displays Jason's shy smile before Jazz yanks it protectively close to her face.

Jason Peter is someone Danny can approve of instead of that thug Red Hood. Jason and Jazz met at one of their classes at the beginning of the semester when Jazz was still unused to the city. She always went to class ten minutes before it started and read to pass the time instead of speaking to her college mates.

She had been reading Pride and Prejudice- one of the fancy covers kind Vlad had gotten her- and Jason had practically teleported to her table gushing about the artwork. Then, when he sat down, the two broke into a healthy debate about the characters.

Jazz admitted to him later that she was surprised by a man in a leather jacket with a white streak in his hair and multiple piercings in his ear having such in-depth character analysis of her beloved novel.

They've been hanging out ever since.

"He is fine, thank you." She huffs, typing a response to the text. Danny places his chin on his hand, smiling as her eyes soften. "He asked me to see a play this Friday. Or, well, he said he was going to one and wanted to know if I wanted to come along."

Danny perks up. "Like a date?"

"I don't know. Maybe?" Jazz nervously plays with her hair. "He made it sound like we were just hanging out. Do you think he meant it like a date?"

"It could be either way if he didn't clarify," Danny admits, then smiles to settle her sudden anxiety. She always doubted herself about spending time with people outside the family or Team Phantom. Doubts that were the result of her upbringing. "But why don't we go shopping tomorrow? Get you a nice dress, and I'll do your make-up. Once we're done, he'll wish it was a date!"

Jazz's smile may be wobbly, but it was there, and it was real. They chat more about the play and what she should wear. Danny forgoes any black, claiming it's too fancy for a first date, and trades ideas for her outfit.

Neither notices that the photo has finished uploading or that people are already commenting and losing their minds.

Nor did they notice a particular hacker with the handle- Oracle- attempting to break into his computer only to be booted out by Technus' system. It flings Oracle to the closest computer system that is close to his.

Somewhere deep underground under a particular mansion. Oracle panics, thinking that Phantom piggyback rides her signal to the cave and quickly shuts everything down. She bites her lip before picking up her personal phone and calling Bruce.

"We have a problem."

Else where Tim is helping Dick with an out-of-control gang. He isn't aware that a photo of him has just circulated through Gotham nor of the sudden new simps awaiting him.

(Lady Gotham laughs)

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Danny and The Fan Blog #Part 2 #Dead tired #anger management #Danny is unware of anything always #Also he scared Babs into thinking he knows about the cave #He's just vibing with sister #Jason is unaware the pretty red head is part of the Blog

[clementinegreye]

the sweetest sin of all

aaron hotchner x feb!bau!reader ||

summary: in the midst of investigating a serial killer who chooses victims based on the seven deadly sins, aaron hotchner finds himself entangled in more than just the case (inspired by hozier's new song 'too sweet'):

word count: 3.4k

warnings: heavy tension, hurt comfort, crossing professional boundaries and general talks of CM violence and murder (nothing graphic):

a/n: hi! i wrote this entire thing for a friend, but maybe you might enjoy it too! this is my first piece of writing on this new blog so if you like feel free to like, reblog or even just let me know! and hopefully if it goes well there'll be more soon!

a/n update: it went well, here's part two!)

From the dim lighting of the office it was almost impossible to tell the exact lateness of the night. His watch consistently ticking, remained a steady rhythm. He ran a hand across his face, his tie undone and lying, long discarded on his desk. The first few buttons of his shirt undone, unbuttoned and an almost vulnerable step away from his usual armour. Papers containing violence were spread haphazardly and with chaos across his desk. A nearly forgotten glass of strong neat whiskey sat in place of his usual bitter coffee.

His team had been on the case for nearly a week, and Hotch felt they were no closer to catching the Unsub. The whole team was feeling the pressure. The profile told him they were dealing with a moral enforcer, a highly organised, violent offender with a clear mission. It should have been easy for them but bodies seemed to be continuously appearing and everyone was feeling uneasy and frustrated.

He was drowning in the details of this case, the Unsub's pattern ever-present in his mind. He thought of the remaining sins - envy, wrath, and lust - and something burned deep within his chest. It was a dangerous game they played, one where the stakes were higher than any case he'd ever worked on.

Being head of the team he felt the responsibility more vehemently than the rest, and he was doing something he’d promised the team he wouldn’t. He was letting it get to him.

There’d been four victims so far, each killed to match one of the seven deadly sins. So far his victims had been; gluttony - an overzealous upscale restaurant critic who binged food that he slated publicly, greed - a high-profile stock broker with the inability to control his obsession with obtaining more of his client's money, sloth - a wealthy trust fund baby who squandered their university scholarship out of laziness and pride - a wealthy woman with a shopping addiction who frequented beauty salons and had an intense social media presence flaunting herself.

Each victim came from a different geographical area of the city and Garcia hadn’t been able to uncover any crossover between their lives where it might have been somewhere they could have met the Unsub. There were no leads and the team felt at a loss. 

Knowing the Unsub was three victims away from the end of his mission, Hotch knew they were close to losing him if they didn’t catch a break soon. He’d sent the team home to get some sleep and told them to be ready bright and early the next day. Yet Hotch couldn't bring himself to leave the office, hoping the crime scene photos might uncover something he'd missed. He thought everyone had listened to his orders until he was drawn away from the graphic images in front of him by a gentle knock at the door.

"Come in." He croaked harshly, the hours of not speaking catching up to his vocal chords.

It was her. Of course, it was her.

She always had a way of pulling him from the edge, of grounding him when the world became too much. In the chaos and uncertainty of their work, she was his constant, his unwavering beacon of light. She was his solace, his calm in the storm, and in that moment, he allowed himself to get lost in her.

She was like honey, dripping out and pooling where flies could get stuck on the intoxication and drown. He could feel it, the danger she could be. If he’d been a man less controlled he could see how she could be his every downfall and triumph. In her, he saw a reflection of all his desires and fears. She was every strength and weakness. In the moment, he couldn't help but want to drown in the intoxicating allure of her, his deadly and dangerous, yet irresistibly sweet sin.

‘I’m heading home for the night…’ Her voice trailed off in a quiet hush to match the silence of the office. 

The creases in his forehead from pouring over crime scenes and endless theories seemed to smooth out. He breathed out hours' worth of tension in a single breath, allowing the corners of his mouth to turn upwards so quickly that unless she’d been a profiler paying attention she might not have noticed. The way his body language shifted was subtle enough to the untrained eye, but not to her. He couldn’t conceal himself in his controlled, cold-edged front as well as he usually could when she was around.

"I gave those orders hours ago." He mused, leaning back in his chair, the breath of a sigh dying on his lips.

She gently shook her head, a soft laugh escaping her. "I thought you might be used to me defying your orders by now, Hotch. You should take your own advice, didn’t you promise to stop working so late," she replied, a glint in her eyes that held an irresistible challenge. Their playful banter was a welcome change from the dark seriousness that he’d been so consumed by moments ago.

She smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief waiting for his retort.

"I didn’t promise anything." He huffed.

She didn’t wait for an invitation, she didn’t need to. Crossing the threshold of his office and making her way to the imposing desk of the Unit Chief.

She’d not seen her boss look so troubled by a case in a long time. Her gaze was drawn to him as his elbows leaned against the desk, his usually impeccable suit dishevelled. She noted the way the top buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a hint of the man beneath the stoic FBI Unit Chief. It was a stark contrast to the man who was always put together, always in control. Yet, in that moment, he looked anything but. Not yet unravelled, but on the edge of it.

She moved further into the office, she was not someone who second-guessed her decisions. She walked with confidence, and perched herself on the edge of his desk, letting her legs dangle over the edge her black work trousers tight across her thighs. She rested her hand on the desk, dangerously close to her Hotch’s, mere centimetres.

His gaze shifted from the papers in front of him and followed the contours of her face, lingering a moment too long on her lips. He swallowed hard, his mind flickering with thoughts he'd held at bay for far too long. But he was Unit Chief, and professionalism might as well have been his middle name. He lightly shook his head, feeling the back of his eyes burn from the focus he’d had all day.

Hotch wasn’t one to open up, he was always controlled but around her, there was a tug at the stitches of his personality.

‘I have a bad feeling about this case.’ He hummed, the night breeze catching against the window. He could smell her perfume, mixing with the scent of burnt coffee and paper. He dare not think about it too long.

He reached across his desk and grabbed his near-forgotten whiskey, downing it in one drag. He bent towards where her legs were hanging over his desk, motioning for her to lift them. She drew them up towards her chest and he opened the drawer beneath her pulling an expensive-looking bottle from it and refilling the glass, this time handing it to her. Their fingers grazed slightly with the exchange. His warm, hers icy cold - meeting to form the perfect temperature.

‘We have no leads. I always trust the profile, but this case… We’ve got nothing.’ His eyes watched her as she swirled the liquid around the glass, her eyes watching it splash against the sides. He sighed in defeat, rubbing his eyes with both of his hands before leaning his head back, a deep exhale exiting his thin lips.

‘We’ll get him.’ She said confidently, something shifted in her tone. It was like a dagger's sharp edge, certainty dripping off it like blood. He almost believed her, but she could see the already dim light dissipating from his dark eyes. She felt sympathy pooling in the tips of her fingers. If she didn’t hadn’t been holding their shared glass she might have reached out and touched him so that it could bleed from her into him, so that he would feel less alone.

She leaned back slightly, her eyes searching his. It was unclear what she was searching for in them. He couldn’t read her entirely, even with all his years of profiling. When she smiled, he felt his heart catch in his throat. It was like looking directly at the sun. Burning and bright hot.

‘You should follow your own orders… And for once so should I. Go home. Get some rest.’ She downed the liquid with a swift tip of her head. Hotch watched the curve of her neck as she moved and the way she licked her lips catching a fallen drop of liquor. She laid the glass down on the desk, allowing her hand to brush over his. His skin crackled with electricity.

She moved with grace as she climbed down from his desk. That one moment shared more intimate than she’d expected it to feel, with their proximity, the lateness of the hour and the unusually undone Aaron sitting at his desk.

His eyes followed her every movement, skin stinging as if he’d been burned. She was halfway to the door before he heard himself call out to her. It almost didn’t sound like his own voice.

‘Wait. Don’t go yet. Come here.’ His voice was firm like it always was, but there was a depth to it that she hadn’t heard before. One she’d always longed for. His eyes glinted with dark hues as he watched her turn from the door. He almost breathed out in relief.

She had an unreadable expression. One that set the blood in his veins on fire. She lowered her head, and with it, her eyes darkened. He stood from his desk, making his way over to her with steps that felt dreamlike. Their eyes met with an energy never shared before and once in front of her he reached out, gently tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear so that he had an unobscured view of her whole face. The same face that had the power to completely undo him.

Her eyes widened slightly as if surprised by his gentle touch, but at the same time, there was a knowing in them as if she’d been waiting for it all along. She remained still, and his heart pounded in his chest as he looked into his eyes, an unspoken conversation passing between them. It felt like any words would have made the moment less intimate.

His hand lingered against her cheek, the warmth radiating from his touch was a stark contrast to the cold, sterile environment of his office. Her skin felt like it was burning under him. The silence between them was palpable, filled with the yet unspoken words and emotions that threatened to bubble to the surface. Hotch, usually so controlled in his feelings suddenly felt so unsteady. His heart beat suspiciously with the feeling that perhaps he’d crossed a line.

‘How do you know?’ He whispered, eyes scanning hers as if he were a detective trying to uncover the evidence that gave her certainty. In the light of the office, she looked like she’d been hand carved, art that he’d been lucky enough to be in the presence of. He traced his thumb over her lips, eyes heavy with a mixture of desire and something else she couldn't quite place. It was a dangerous gesture, one that could endanger his whole career.

'I trust you, and that’s all I need to know that we’ll get him.' she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, eyes glazed with a devotion that almost made him groan. The conviction of her words pierced his wavering confidence. He’d gone from feeling almost hopeless to buzzing with determination.

He let his hand fall away from her face, but the warmth lingered, an almost promise that what she’d been sure she’d felt moments ago had indeed been real. Reality swarmed his brain, aware of the situation he’d almost found himself in. He straightened up, posture contrasting his relatively dishevelled exterior.

"You’re right, you should follow my orders. Go home, get some rest. I told the team we’d start fresh in the morning," he instructed, a softness in his voice that was rarely displayed. But she didn’t move, and he didn’t either.

He watched her eyes for any sign of discomfort, the tension in the room was palpable, an electrifying current that Hotch didn’t dare to break. Silence blanketed them, only broken by the ticking of his watch. It was a solitary reminder of the passing time, yet the urgency of their case had fallen to the back of his mind.

‘Close the door.’ She instructed, using the same authority that Hotch usually spoke with. The change in dynamic almost made him falter, but with a small smirk, he moved towards the door. He’d been aware of the power imbalance he held in his position but with the tone of her voice, there was a subtle shift in the air between them. She moved back towards his desk with certainty. Moving his name tag so she could perch to face the dark space of the office.

Their eyes met across the room. She tilted her head to the side, examining his body language. As he locked the door behind him, the air seemed to constrict around them, the room becoming a world of its own where only they existed. The only sound in the room was the soft click of the lock and their breathing. It echoed throughout the office, bouncing off the walls and settling into their bones. The tension escalated, but it was different now, charged with an anticipation that neither of them could ignore.

He might have been unit chief, but right here, right now, she was in charge. The line between professional and personal blurred dangerously as their eyes locked, a promise of something more hanging in the balance. The air was charged now, they were poised, daring each other to make the first move. They both knew that they were on the precipice of something dangerous, something that could have dire consequences professionally.

Yet, the pull was too strong to ignore, and for the first time, Hotch allowed himself to teeter on the edge, his resolve tested by the powerful undercurrent of desire that crackled between them. Tonight, they were not just colleagues, they were two individuals drawn together by an irresistible force. In the room, the undeniable chemistry that had been simmering under the surface for far too long had nowhere to hide.

On the desk, she rested each hand palm down to the side of her thighs and opened her legs wider to create space for his body to fit. She moved her head in a motion for him to step forward. Hotch couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, pupils were blown wide from more than just the darkness of the room. How long had he craved something so forbidden, how long had he denied himself the idea that this could ever happen?

As he moved closer to her, he couldn't help but think about the deadly sin of lust, a strong passion or longing that was deemed sinful. Here he was, teetering on the edge of crossing professional boundaries, something he’d never done. The balance of energy in the room was no longer solely from the stress of the case, it was about them - about her. He could have tried to argue that it was, but no jury in the state would believe him. If this were a trial, he was about to be found guilty.

The Unsub's deadly pattern echoed in his mind - the three sins he’d yet to kill for; envy, jealousy over another's life or possessions, wrath, a violent anger driven by hatred, and finally, lust, a powerful desire that can become all-consuming, much like the craving he was experiencing in that very moment. Looking upon her he felt envious of anyone who had ever been allowed to touch her, he felt wrath for anyone who had ever wronged or hurt her, and most of all he felt lust. He definitely felt lust, his desire for her taking over all his senses.

Was he caught between duty and desire? No, he had no doubt in his mind. The sheer intensity of her shared gaze and the way she was beckoning him forward smashed the boundaries of their relationship. He’d never seen her in this light, never dared to allow himself to think of her like this. But now she was in front of him how could he ever deny himself something so sweet?

Hotch had always been a man of control, a man who kept his emotions in check. But in this room, with the charged atmosphere heavy between them, he felt his resolve wavering. He was caught in the powerful current of the desire for her that he’d managed to keep at bay. He didn’t want to be in control anymore. 

He closed the distance between them, fitting himself between her legs, his hands landing on her hips as he looked down at her, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

She brought one hand off the desk to hold the waistband of his suit trousers, tugging lightly.

“Are you finally going to kiss me, Agent Hotchner?” She asked, voice dripping with honey. Sweetness laced with danger that hit him right in the chest like a bullet.

She was an intoxicating mix of all seven, a deadly sin in her own right. She was his lust, his unending desire. She was his gluttony, the one he wanted to consume endlessly. She was his greed, the one he wanted all for himself. She was his sloth, his reason for inertia. She was his wrath, the one who could ignite a fire in him like no other. She was his envy, the one he admired and coveted. And she was his pride, the one who made him feel like he was on top of the world.

‘You will be the ruin of me.’ He breathed, his eyes almost black. He looked down at her taking in the sight of her flushed cheeks and the way her eyes sparkled with a mixture of mischief and satisfaction. He was entirely wrapped around her finger. Tonight, he decided, he would willingly drown in this sweet sin, consequences be damned.

‘That is entirely my intention.’ She chuckled and he groaned, a guttural sound that felt foreign to him.

"Only if you promise not to tell the team," he murmured, a playful undertone to his voice.

As he leaned down to capture her lips with his, he knew without a doubt that this was a deadly sin he was willing to commit. It was both sweet and intense, a perfect reflection of their now complicated relationship.

Her lips tasted of the whiskey they'd shared, sweet with a hint of burn that left him wanting more. She tasted like a curse, sickeningly sweet as if to cause him decay. He deepened the kiss, pulling her impossibly closer. He was standing on the cliff of the unknown, and he was more than willing to jump and fall headfirst.

As he pulled away, he couldn't help but study her face. He’d come face to face with endless serial killers, and been in the presence of pure evil. But he’d never been so close to something so dangerous. She was a temptation he couldn't resist. Sweeter than any apple in the Garden of Eden. He traced the contours of her face with his fingers, his gaze never leaving hers.

He could still taste her on the back of his tongue, sugar and shared whiskey burning. He’d never been so certain that he’d been willing to trade his control for the intoxicating sweetness that was her. She was a forbidden fruit that was too alluring to resist, and Aaron Hotchner had no more resistance left in him. Not now he’d tasted something so delicious.

After all, wasn't life about balancing the deadly sins and virtues? Tonight, he chose to sin.

(you can now read part two here!)

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds fic #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds hotch

[charmercharm3r]

Make Love, Not Porn

Heat Signature

HHJ

Masterlist, Story Masterlist

18+ content — minors, do not interact

wc: 5.9k

Synopsis: You crave a life of normalcy, he craves you. And he'd do anything to keep you, even if you're for the world to see

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, barista!hyunjin x camgirl!reader, masturbation (m, f), teasing, cum eating, (slight) orgasm denial, (also -ish) voyeurism, (not a warning but) open conversations about sex, he’s a little shit but also just a fanboy

Past Broadcasts : Play Time!

Live : Heat Signature

Next Scheduled Broadcast : Puppeteer

☆ﾟ

He waited for you.

He waited and waited and waited, for days until he’d finally given up hope that you were going to show face again.

Hyunjin wasn’t even sure you were from the area. For all he knew, you lived a few hours plane ride away. There was no way for him to know.

He’d thought about you every day since, watched every stream and used most of his tips and paycheck to tip you so that you’d remember who he was. It worked, whenever the dinging noise from other patrons tipping died down, there was a moment where he’d rapid fire click the button and you’d know, it was him.

The day after seeing you in person, Hyunjin barely had the mind to put your image down onto paper to immortalize. His minor hobby in doodling came in handy when there was downtime during his shift at the coffee shop. There was an unlimited supply of blank coffee cup sleeves and markers, enough room for his artistic freedom to run wild with images of you and your pretty hands, heavenly voice that he’s been encapsulated with ever since.

Hyunjin kept his doodles in his apron pocket with him at all times. If anyone were to ever see them he swears he’d burst into flames out of embarrassment. How is he stumbling beneath his own feet over someone he’s met once?

But it doesn’t feel like you’ve only met once, he feels like he’s known you for a lifetime. The way you spoke during your cams, you were speaking to him. You had to be. You had to have seen him.

The voice in his head had Hyunjin summing up your absence to the fact that you were simply too busy for coffee. Yeah, that was what he chose to believe, definitely not the fact that he was acting literally insane and scared you into never setting foot in their store ever again.

The universe was listening to him, today of all days. Another early morning and he hadn’t even noticed you walk in at first, after two weeks he’d given up on hoping you’d come back. Imagine his surprise when he’s put on the register and sees you walk up to the counter.

“Ice– iced chai and three blonde shots, right?”

You were taken aback, you’d hadn’t been here in a while, two weeks to be exact. What was this cute, strange barista doing memorizing your order? And why is he looking at you like he’s picturing you naked?

“Yeah,” you replied slowly, narrowing your gaze at his pretty features.

He really was weird, his hands were shaking as he input your order, as he took your card and handed it back. When he was done ringing you up, he didn’t hand you the receipt but rather stared at you again. “Are you okay…” you glanced at his name tag, “Hyunjin?”

Oh, his cock twitched.

Be fucking normal. She’s just a person, for fucks sake. Stop being a weirdo. God, you’re embarrassing. 

“Y— yeah! It’s just…” Hyunjin’s heart sped up. This was his opportunity to ask you out, compliment you… But instead he asks, “can I have a name for the order?”

That wasn’t what you were expecting. For a second your heart stopped thinking that he had recognized you… Again, impossible, you had been too careful to let anything slip.

“You know my order but not my name?” A dry laugh and awkward but relaxed shrug, you tell him your name and the barista lets out a little inaudible stutter, a small smile spreading across your lips at his endearing reaction,

His head raised to meet your gaze again, “it’ll be out in a minute, pretty.”

Ballsy. Fucking ballsy. You have the most massive pair ever. Wait, she smiled… She smiled?? She’s still smiling? Oh, she’s walking away… I think that worked?

Why were you smiling? And why was your tummy fluttering? A cute barista complimenting you? That was nothing in comparison to the millions of adoring words you receive through your social media and live streams. So why was he any different? Stop smiling, you look stupid.

It really only took a minute, true to Hyunjin’s words. You didn’t expect him to be the one holding your drink at the pick up counter, the way your name rolling off his tongue making your adrenaline rush. 

What you didn’t see was him forcing his closest coworker to stand on register so he could be the one to make your drink. The finishing touch was the real kicker. Though it was a cold drink, Hyunjin fished out one of the doodled cup sleeves, the best one he’d drawn, and shyly wrote on the side of it before slipping it on and calling your name. He tried to hide his excitement and nervousness by trilling his voice a little more sing-song to get your attention.

You walked a little too fast towards the black haired barista, catching yourself and slowing as you came closer. He had a smirk that made your knees wobble just a tad bit before he held the drink out for you. Both your eyes met as you grazed his fingertips to pass over the cup, a shot of warmth shooting up your arm with a tingle as he lingered.

“Thank you, Hyunjin.”

“My pleasure, Y/N.”

Just the way he said your name made you want to fold in half. Maybe let him fold you in half. Definitely let him fold you in half. 

You hadn’t taken a sip of the drink until you got home, too giddy the entire walk to do anything but clutch it in your hands. But when you did sip on it, you verbally let out a, “mmm!” to no one but yourself.

Hours had gone by of you doing your regular chores and such that you do on your off days. Dirty clothes in the laundry, groceries were put away, now would be a good time to prepare dinner. You had just tossed the now empty to go cup in the trash when the smeared ink on the cardboard cup sleeve caught your eye. You had to dig it out of the trash, but it didn’t seem much out of order other than the wet marks from the earlier drink’s condensation.

There was a drawing, smudged but definitely still there. A small drawing of a girl’s side profile with fingers pressed to her lips like she was holding a cigarette, except she wasn’t. She’s simply touching her lips, depicted in a way that made her look so delicate despite the harsh black ink that carved her into the cardboard. She was pretty. It was probably his girlfriend, more than likely he didn’t think about what sleeve he grabbed and rushed to cup your drink with the one he’d drawn her on. Why did that make your stomach sink a little?

Still, it was a nice drawing. As you slipped it off the cup, you saw the words that made your stomach entirely fall out of your ass.

Sweetheart. 

Hyunjin waited again for you to return. When you didn’t the next day he was sure he scared you off. There was a reason you remained anonymous, to avoid situations exactly like this one. He just couldn’t help himself. If you freaked out, he’d act clueless and make an excuse to say it was only a cute nickname. He hoped you wouldn’t take it like that, however the fact that it took you another week and a half to come back to the coffee shop told him that was probably what you thought.

You avoided his gaze when you came into the shop for the third time. There was no line for once, but then again, it was way past the morning when you’d come the first few visits. 

Hyunjin’s breath hitched when you came straight up to the counter and met his eyes timidly, darting around as if you were scared to truly look at him.

“The usual?” He asked, hoping the sincerity in his voice would ease your clear distress.

“N— no… No drink…” Your words trailed off and Hyunjin felt himself starting to panic.

“I’m not a stalker, I swear. I just really… admire your work? For lack of a better phrase.” The genuineness could be felt in the air between you, and it made you want to trust him. But still, there’s always lingering doubt.

You lowered your voice and held out the doodled cup sleeve, “maybe you should keep the drawings of your girlfriend somewhere you won’t give to someone else you’ve seen naked.”

“What?” Hyunjin stared at you, blinking soullessly.

He had expected you to yell at him, scream, make a scene and call him all kinds of names. This was not on his bingo card.

“Your… your girlfriend?” You raised up the drawing and he laughed. A full belly laugh that made his shoulders shake and luscious black hair fall into his handsome, handsome face. “I’m very confused right now.”

“Oh, you’re so pretty.”

“I don’t know you well enough for you to be making fun of me.” 

“I’m off in thirty minutes. Wanna get coffee?” It was your turn to stare blankly at him. He smiled again shyly, “barista joke, forget it. But seriously, can we… maybe talk?”

“You just wanna talk?”

“Yeah.”

“…Alright.”

“I’ll call your name when your drink’s ready.”

“I didn’t order—“

“On the house,” Hyunjin leaned both hands into the counter, tipped his head slightly down, and smirked. Like a fucking player. That stupid smile, you don’t even know the guy and still want to simultaneously kiss him and slap that grin off his face. A frown and a nod, you sit at an empty table in the corner.

Less than five minutes later, Hyunjin is walking over to you with the drink in hand and he takes the open seat across from you.

“Aren’t you still working?”

“You’re the only one here.” You glance around the room, the shop is completely empty. 

“A filthy blonde chai, plus one more shot.” The drink is slid over to you by large, polished hands. “I’m not sure what they call a triple espresso chai… Most people usually stop at two. But, I don’t think you’re like most people.”

“Only a barista would use that line.”

“Honestly, I’m shitting bricks just sitting in front of you and I’m so glad I can barely hear myself over the music in this place because I wanted to melt into the floor as soon as I said it.”

The way he spoke was cute, like he couldn’t get himself to stop talking. “Are you fangirling right now?”

Hyunjin’s ears tinted a bright red and felt his cheeks flush with warmth. “Yeah, a little.”

“Over a pornstar?”

“To be fair you’re not a pornstar, you're a camgirl.”

“I don’t think that makes it any better.”

“For me or you?”

“…Both, I guess.”

He bit his plush bottom lip before letting slip from between his teeth, simply looking at you. “If it makes you feel better, you’re the only one I follow.”

It took you a minute to sit with that information, the entire ordeal was strange and you weren’t entirely sure what compelled you to come back to the shop in the first place. Within your silence, nothing actually processed in your head, there were no thoughts. Your career required you to be strategic as one wrong move could bring everything crashing down. As you sat in front of Hyunjin, the awkwardly suave, raven haired barista that makes a mean triple blonde chai, you realized how much you liked not having to think. 

“You’re the only one I watch, actually,” he continues to ramble in the lingering silence. “There really isn’t anything else– or, anyone else that I want to watch. That sounds… really gross now that I’m saying it out loud… I’m sorry, I’m– you make me really nervous. I don’t even know why, I don’t even know you. I mean, I do know you, but I only just met you. A– and I only knew who you were because of your voice. The way you speak– I love the sound of it. I could listen to you talk all day.”

You only stared at him with an unreadable expression, keeping your heart-fluttered cards close to your chest. “That does make me feel a little better,” you admitted softly. “But you’re not a stalker?”

Hyunjin leaned onto his elbows on the table. Even sitting and slouching, he had to look down at you. “Sweetheart, you walked into my shop, remember? I’ve been working here longer than you’ve been streaming. You came to me.”

Not. A. Single. Thought. 

How quickly he could go from a stuttering mess to acting like a cocky jackass gave you whiplash, you literally couldn’t predict what would come out of his mouth next. All that made your brain totally empty, words couldn’t form in your mouth to respond back.

Hyunjin reached across the table for where your hands played with the cup sleeve. His touch made warmth flood through your skin, up your arms and into your cheeks. He took the cardboard and held it next to your reddening face. “You really couldn’t tell?”

“I can tell that you should probably inform your girlfriend of the massive crush you have on a camgirl.”

He huffed and leaned back in his chair, tossing the cup sleeve between the two of you. “It’s not my girlfriend. It’s you.”

“What?! I don’t look like that!” You grabbed the drawing to examine closer, still not seeing the comparison. 

“You look exactly like that! Maybe the marker I used was too thick, but it’s definitely you.”

“No, I mean this girl is… It’s not me.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Your head shot up to look at him. Was he really agreeing with you right now? “You’re waaay prettier than this. I had only seen you one time when I drew it, didn’t get to really look at your features. Was kinda starstruck, ya know?”

“...The more you talk, I can’t tell what you want from me.”

“Why do I have to want something from you to get to know you?”

What was his deal? Was he dense? Was there a sign on your back that said, “fuck with me?” This was a joke and no one was laughing but him. There was no reason for him to want to even talk with you, there had to be another reason. It didn’t make any sense.

“Everyone wants something. What do you want?”

Hyunjin leaned further forward and stared straight into your eyes, “to know you.”

How badly did you want to look away, but Hyunjin made it so hard. He kept the eye contact so steady, blindly reaching for your hand across the table and simply holding your fingertips with his, hardly even touching and the combination was still so deadly. His thumb rubbed lightly over your knuckles and you couldn’t help but lean in closer to him as well, furrow in his brow from the seriousness turn the conversation has taken only deepening.

He couldn’t read you as much as he tried. There was your poker face you’d mastered after the last person you’d cared about enough to take back to your showroom. Hyunjin didn’t know that, or even needed to know that, but you were weirdly comfortable around him. As uncanny as everything leading up to this was, your mouth moved on its own.

“Why do you deserve to?”

“Someone hurt you… badly, didn’t they? So much that you’re questioning why I want to know you as a person and not just a body.”

“Why do you keep talking like you know my life story? You don’t know me!”

“That’s kinda the whole point. I want to! You keep saying I don’t know you, so let me!” His voice raised slightly as yours did, mimicking your frustration.

And honestly, you couldn’t blame him. You were being annoying about this on purpose, you needed to push his buttons to see if he was going to be true to his word. If he wasn’t he’ll bow out quick after realizing you’re not worth all the effort. If he is… you hope for your heart he isn’t. But you want it so badly at the same time, you crave it. You’ve dreamed and fantasized of someone wanting you and only you, doing everything in their power to keep you, cherish you, make you feel so loved that they’d die if they couldn’t tell you that you meant more than the world to them. The kind of love that most people in your line of work gave up on a long time ago.

That’s the goal, isn’t it? To be loved? That’s what’s supposed to be the end game. If everyone is after it, why isn’t it easier to find? 

“I have a livestream in two hours…” your voice quivered. Why were you telling him this?

“You do…” his was steady. Why is he still holding your hand?

“I want to trust you.” You wanted to hide under a rock. Why do you like him holding your hand?

“You’re doing the best you can.” He seems so honest. Why are you still scared?

“You get one chance. If you’re serious, maybe I’ll keep you around.” His smile is so sweet. What is happening?

“That’s all I need.”

Fuck, he’s here. Why is he in your apartment? Why did you bring him back here? Stupid, stupid, stupid. You were already regretting it when you led him through the threshold and removed your shoes. He complimented your place, said it smelled nice. That’s a good sign, but this was out of your comfort zone.

Way, way, waaay out of your comfort zone.

Is this self-destructive? It is, yet you’re doing it anyway. You already broke rule number 4: don’t give everything all at once. You bulldozed through it, actually, dust and cement and rubble in the wake of your metaphorical path to lead him into your home and towards your showroom.

You led him towards the bed that was to the side of your streaming desk so you could see him past the monitors. Hyunjin was hesitant and sat as close to the edge as possible. As you say next to him, you could smell the coffee that seemed to seep from his pores, bitter but still sweet, energizing but would let it lull you to sleep. His gaze didn’t stray around the room, he didn’t even bother looking at your set up, focused on the way your shoulders relaxed and looked to be slightly less timid.

Hyunjin didn’t know where to put his hands, keeping them in his lap as you reached up to tuck his hair behind his ear. “Why am I here, Y/N?”

“You’re going to help me.” His eyes grew wide in shock, mouth parting slightly. “Not like that, get your mind out of the gutter.” The force of which he closed his mouth made his teeth audibly knock together. 

Hyunjin wanted to melt under the sudden intensity of your gaze, still playing with the tips of his hair at the nape of his neck while staring at him like a lion to a gazelle. “You get to look, but not touch… me.”

His eyebrows shot up, “what?”

“You heard me,” you leaned in closer, so close he could feel your warm breath on his cheek. Hyunjin was frozen solid and you haven’t even done anything yet, but he was ready to do anything you asked him to. Into his ear, you whispered, “look, no touching.”

It was just a peck. A simple peck of your lips to his cheek, that was all and it made Hyunjin’s entire body shake out of excitement. He got hard instantly and tried to adjust his pants so you couldn’t see the very obvious tent. Not for his efforts, you saw anyway and giggled. Oh, your laugh was so pretty, so innocent sounding despite the very unholy acts you were about to participate in. The same unholy acts he was about to participate in, too.

“Is this okay?” You asked, lips still close to his cheek. Hyunjin nodded rapidly, wanting to turn so you’d kiss him for real. “I need you to tell me, with your words, baby.”

“Y— yes, more.” There was a shudder in his voice, a very obviously excited one at that. 

You placed another gentle kiss to his cheek, “more what?”

Hyunjin leaned in so you were cheek to cheek, “more kisses, please.”

“What’s got you so worked up? Haven’t done anything,” you cooed back, threading your fingers through his hair and his entire body shivered. “You like when I call you baby?”

He nodded again and leaned into your hand, the only downside of that was it pulled his face from yours. Hyunjin debated on cupping your cheek, but you’d said no touching and he wanted to be good for you. Even though his first instinct was to reach out, he stayed put, letting that energy flow into gripping the sheets below him. 

You didn’t pull his hair, didn’t do anything but keep your hand tangled in it but the feeling made him shut his eyes. You were really here, holding him like this, talking to him the way he’d always imagined. The fact that you even considered giving him the time of day made him wonder if this was real life anymore.

“I thought you would. You’re my favorite, too.”

Hyunjin couldn’t stop himself, you were saying all the right words. He pulled away for a split second to look at

you in awe, then crash his lips against yours in a fevered kiss, searing hot and so, so needy. He whined into your mouth, completely lost in the sensation while you were taken slightly by surprise. Not in a bad way, you were just happy he’d been able to restrain himself for this long in the first place.

You kissed him back, just for a second before tearing him away by the back of the hair. Caught off guard, he softly whimpered at the harshness, then tried to follow your lips again but was unable. “No touching. If you can’t follow directions—“

“I can, I can! I promise.”

Huffing, you tossed him back to lay his head into the pillows. A devious smile played along his lips as his heart rate slowed again, “you liked it, though. I felt you kiss me back.”

You raised an eyebrow, moving to kneel onto the mattress beside him. “Hm, I can’t recall.”

It stung his heart a little, but he knew it was just an act. It was your way of riling him up.

You didn’t touch him now, there was still a few centimeters of space between your bodies and he could still feel your lips on his. His chest leveling out, erection in his pants painfully throbbing in his jeans, looking up at you with the best puppy dog eyes he could conjure, Hyunjin could die happy if you pat his back like after a sports match and sent him home.

But you didn’t. You didn’t move, you just looked at him. It made him slightly nervous only because he couldn’t be sure what you were thinking.

Hyunjin sat up on his elbows, “what are you gonna do to me?” Not an ounce of fear in his voice, pure curiosity and anticipation.

“I’m not gonna do anything.” His eyes followed you as you stood to walk towards your computers. It wasn’t until now did he see you sit in the chair he’d been watching you in since the start of your career. Seeing it in person made his chest feel warm, like knowing this bit of information was as if he’d truly been with you this entire time from the start.

You didn’t look at him as you typed at your computer for a moment, clicking the mouse a few times, and suddenly Hyunjin’s phone went off. He fished it out of his pocket to find a notification from that godforsaken website, “live soon, hardcandysweetheart: heat signature.”

“Am I gonna be on—“

“No, I wouldn’t throw you to the wolves like that.”

“…What does heat signature mean?”

“Our little secret,” you made your way back to the bed, taking your spot next to Hyunjin once more. This time, though, your hand was placed next to his thigh, a little too close for comfort. Softly did your fingers play with the hem, Hyunjin darted his eyes down then back up to your face, feeling his chest heating up again. “No one knows that I’m not alone. No one knows I have you here with me, watching me, drooling over me. You’re the only one that gets to see everything. Straight into to the warmest parts of me.”

All the blood he had left in his head rushed straight to his cock, making Hyunjin even harder, if that was possible. “Please, touch me,” he found himself begging.

The laugh you let out was menacing, it made him cower back slightly. “You’re brave, I’ll give you that. But no. I want you to touch yourself for me.”

“What?” Hyunjin asked louder, a little more embarrassed now that you’d furrowed your brows at him and tilted your head. His chest deflated at your clear annoyance.

“It’s a very intimate thing,” you started, softening your eyes as his pride crumbled little by little. “Sometimes, I think it’s more intimate than sex itself, showing your partner how you like to be pleasured. It’s the key to a person’s body and mind. If you know what place to touch, how to touch them, they’re yours. If you make them cum, you own them.”

Well when you explain it like that, Hyunjin can’t help but feel sorry for snapping. It makes sense to him, “knowledge is power.”

“Knowledge is power. Sex is more than physical. It’s emotional, mental— it’s everything before the clothes come off and everything after you both cum. If you feel seen, then your partner is doing something right.”

A few silent seconds, you could tell he understood by the way he was looking at you; ready to comply with any request. Hyunjin loved the way you talk so freely about sex, like it was just another conversation because it is. It’s nothing to be ashamed about and it’s not taboo. Your nonchalant, yet very caring attitude about the topic of sex made him feel more comfortable than any ex partner ever had when he was actually naked in front of them.

“Can I take my pants off now?”

You rolled your eyes, “keep your underwear on.”

Hyunjin thought he was fast before, this was a new record. Clothes were off in the blink of an eye— at least, his were. You eyed him up and down as he stripped and stood at the foot of the bed for your next instruction. “On your back.” He clambered onto the bed, not even caring that you were still fully dressed and he was in nothing but his boxers.

“Close your eyes.” He did. But only after he took a long, adoring stare into yours. “Did kissing me get you this hard, baby?” Hyunjin nodded, clawing at the sheets to keep himself contained.

You chuckled softly, “that makes me happy. This should be easy for you, then.” The bed shifted beside him and suddenly heat was swallowing him whole. Your breath tickled his neck, feeling you sitting closer to his head as you continued to talk to him. “When I first saw you, I didn’t think anything of it.”

What a boner killer. Not his boner, though.

“Then when you smiled at me, I thought it was just to get you some extra tips. Clearly, it worked. This is a pretty big tip. You have such a pretty smile.” Hyunjin’s hips kicked up just slightly. He couldn’t see it, but you were smirking at how easy he was to work up.

“Such a pretty smile, but such a dirty mind. I wanna know,” your lips pressed against the shell of his ear. “Tell me, baby. What do you think about when you touch yourself?”

“You,” he answered immediately, fighting the urge to palm at his twitching dick.

Gently as not to startle him, you unclenched his hands from the sheets and moved them towards where he needed it most, keeping your hands to yourself as soon as he got the idea.

“Me? That’s sweet,” you were sincere, flattered. “What about me?”

Hyunjin rubbed the heel of his palm hard into his cock through the thin fabric. There was already a darkening wet patch, your mouth watered at how much he was leaking. You couldn’t lie to yourself, he was big. Not so much girth, but just the right width with a little extra length and it made your pussy clench at the prospect of what could be. 

“Mmph— your hands. So pretty, want them around my throat.” Just the light graze of your fingernails raking across his neck made Hyunjin buck up into his own hands. “An— and your thighs. Looks so soft, I wanna bite into them.”

“And mark me up? Wanna leave pretty bruises for everyone to see?”

“Fuck, yes!” He pressed harder, resisting from sticking his hand down his pants. Obviously, you couldn’t have that, you were in a time crunch.

“Underwear off.”

“Thank god,” he rushed to shove them down, not even past his knees before he grabbed his cock and began to tightly fist himself.

There was a messy coating of precum over the tip, glistening in the soft warm pink and yellow mood lighting. He really did have a pretty cock, assumptions right in that he was perfectly proportioned with girth and length, looking oh-so-suckable.

“Fuck, keep talking. Please.”

“What is it about me that really gets you off? Hm? You like how amateur and naïve I act? Or is it that you can imagine any girl’s face when I touch myself?”

“No, no,” he whined, tightening his first around the upper half of his dick, short but hard ruts into the fleshy ring. 

“No? Then what is it, baby?”

“Your voice— god, fucking hell. The way you speak, the way you talk like you’re only talking to me. Like you only want me, that there’s no one else that you need and I’m the only one who can make you feel so fucking good— fuck!”

He was leaking more and more to puddle onto his abdomen. You reached over to dip the tip of your finger into it, swirling around in the mess before bringing the coated digit back up to his mouth. “Open.” He did, and closed as soon as he felt your finger press onto his tongue. Hyunjin moaned at the taste of himself, not at all put off but rather throbbing even harder.

“What would you do to me if I gave you the chance?” You asked quietly, genuinely curious as he swirled his tongue around your cleanly-licked finger. 

The question erupted a louder groan from deep within his chest, hardly muffled by the weight on his tongue. You stole it away so he could talk, secretly putting it into your mouth as his eyes were still closed to get a little glimpse more of what he tastes like. 

“Make you be a little pillow princess at first. Wouldn’t let you lift a finger and kiss you everywhere. Hard.” You liked that idea, pressing your legs together. “Wanna taste your pussy so bad. I’d eat you out until you’d be begging for me to stop and fuck you. No, I wouldn’t. I’ll feast on you for as long as I fucking want— only if you use your safe word would I stop.” He murmured that last part a little softer. How sweet.

Hyunjin sped up his movements, gathering the leaking fluids to use as lubricant and letting the wet sounds fill the room.

“Would you make me cum?” It was an innocent question.

“Would I?” But he took offense to it. “I’d make you cum all night long if you wanted. With my mouth— in my mouth. On my cock, make you hump my thigh like you do with those stupid fucking toys. God, I hate them and I love them, they always make you cum so hard. I can do that, too. I can make you cum so hard you’ll never wanna come back down. Fucking shit, want you to ride my thigh so badly. Want you to wanna fuck me all day, everyday, want you to think of me the way I think of you.”

His stomach was tensing, reaching down with the other hand to fondle his balls. You watched every one of his movements, memorized the places he reacted to the most. It seemed the tip was clearly the most sensitive, but he liked just the quick swipes over it, probably too sensitive for his own good. But then his grip would tighten just under it, fucking the ring of his fingers like it was a pocket pussy. He tugged at his balls, rolling them in his palm and arching into the bed. You wondered how long until he was ready to blow.

“I want that.” Your admittance made him peek open his eyes slightly. You didn’t scold him for disobeying, instead keeping the eye contact and moving off the bed. 

Hyunjin watched as you stripped your top off facing him, then your bottoms to reveal a cute light purple set. Nothing too fancy, but so suited to you it made his mouth drool over the way the strappy underwear hugged your love handles.

“But I have a job to do. So you’re gonna keep quiet for me, okay?” He sat up, slowing down his motions but not stopping.

Hyunjin was in awe. Mindless, jaw dropping awe in how easily you stripped in front of him. He never thought the act of you taking off a shirt in front of him would have him almost cumming instantly. Of course he’s seen you naked, but this was domestic. This was nothing any of your viewers has ever seen. Was he being a creep? Maybe, but you liked the way he was looking at you. He hasn’t been shy about wanting you, but how he couldn’t take his eyes off you now, it made the twisting in your belly churn tighter and brighter. 

Thankfully your computer was already on, you didn’t have to look away from Hyunjin and his pretty cock. Just one click and you’re live.

But you waited. You waited for him to get closer to the edge. He needed a little push. 

Taking your hand away from the mouse, you instead brought your knees up and rested your feet onto the chair to expose your core. With two fingers, you ran them over the gusset of your soaked panties, a visibly dark patch clear for Hyunjin to see.

His eyes rolled back and sped up the jerking movements, the loud slick noises echoing in the small room. Just the sound of him made you gush, so close to skipping your livestream just to fuck him into tomorrow.

No. Self control. Just this once.

You rubbed yourself a little harder over the fabric, waiting for the right moment. When his mouth dropped and let out a small whimper, you quickly closed your legs and turned back to the computer.

“Quiet now, baby. Relax and enjoy, but don’t make a sound.”

“Fuck— wait, I’m gonna cum—“

You quickly adjusted the camera and clicked, start live. 

“Have I kept you waiting long?”

☆ﾟ

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @alexis-reads-fics @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @goblinracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut

#stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids hyunjin #skz #skz smut #skz fluff #skz angst #skz hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #hyunjin smut #hyunjin fluff #barista!hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x yn #hyunjin x you #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagine #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids hard hours #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x yn #hwang hyunjin x you

[iinotinlxve]

⤷✩relationship status

⤷ characters: sunday x fem!reader

⤷ summary: he gets asked a question about your relationship in an interview.

⤷ a/n: i've been a sunday lover since day 1 guys ✊✊ (written before 2.1!!)

wc: 277

"so what's it like dating (y/n)?"

The question caught Sunday off-guard at first. He had expected all sorts of questions from this interview, but not one so direct.

He took a moment to answer, thinking over the exact words he was going to say. He knew he had to answer questions like these carefully. Your relationship hadn't even been made public until a few days ago, despite the fact that both of you had been dating for months. It was a delicate subject for such an influential figure, after all. That's why Sunday waited until he was sure the relationship was stable before revealing it to anyone. And now, of course, people had questions.

Sunday cleared his throat quietly.

"Well... she's a really sweet person. She's definitely well-suited for being my partner."

He spoke calmly with a small smile on his face. He truly meant every word he said when it came to you. After all, you were the most important person in his life.

"are you going to marry her?"

Sunday froze, his face changing ever-so-slightly. He masked the small bit of shock with a nervous smile, his mind absolutely running from the question.

"Maybe.. someday."

In truth, his answer was yes. He wanted to marry you. He wanted it more than anything- to be able to wake up to you every day. To hold your hand and feel the ring on your finger. Although, he couldn't exactly say that out loud. It would be unprofessional.

For now, he'd settle with the prospect. The pure image that filled his mind every time he saw you, imagining what you would look like in a wedding dress.

#honkai star rail #hsr #fanfiction #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr fluff #sunday hsr #sunday x reader #fluff

[starryylies]

Hear me out now… ghost has a voodoo doll of you and he uses it to tease you in meetings and when you’re home and he’s at base😻

BEING SIMONS OBEDIENT LIL’ DOLL

Ongggg I love you and I love this ask so muchhhhhh ongggggg and I know I say this in every ask but sorry for replying late 😭

my finals start on Wednesday and these days I’m just clearing out my drafts for my recent posts in so sorry 😭😭

That’s like a plot from the webtoon I love (act like you love me, it’s soooooooo good)

goin to a shady ‘spiritual’ market with you was the last in his wish list buy when you were sooo insistent on buying crystals and quartz he just couldn’t say no :((

It was a chance meeting really you were just going home when you saw,

A shop in the corner of the market adorned with beautiful gems and red coloured leaves, it had no banner but the mysterious aura of the shop lured you in

Going inside you guys found an old lady selling dolls and you just couldn’t stop to look at one of them.

A doll that looked exactly like you

The skin colour, the hair, shape of your eyes.

it was exactly you.

Well a mini you,

While paying the lady told simon to keep the doll safe

He nodded along not thinking too much of it

That day When you and Simon were sleeping he accidentally slept on the doll which led to you feeling squished a suffocated

Waking Simon up with the sound of you choking

He quickly got up to see what’s wrong and the minute he got up from the doll you were fine

And You noticed that

You felt crazy ar first for believing that.

But proving it to Simon was hard,

he didn’t believe it until you made Him tug the dolls arm through which he noticed the pain caused on the exact spot

god he felt crazy too but he believed you

And the thing is your horny mind came up with a crazier idea-

An idea that stated that he has the consent to control you through the doll for when he’s gone for deployments and when he needs to go to the base

And what’s more insane is that he agreed.

So this crazy arrangement really ended up being a success

Whenever si went out he would take the doll with him, he would purposely use the doll to his advantage to tease you just slightly

The slight brush on your tits during your lecture?

That’s Simon

The sudden touches on your sensitive spots?

That’s Simon too

God he loved teasing you.

Especiallyyyy when you’re at home,

Telling you to wait and be a good girl till he comes back.

On one particular day,

He had been at the base all day to train the new recruits and you were at home and bored :(

Out of nowhere you felt a sudden caress and pinch on your nipples with your clit being rubbed in circles simultaneously.

It felt sooo good,

until it stopped.

You felt so frustrated.

You had to cum :((

So how could you not touch yourself :(

But before you could start you felt a restrain on your hands.

You couldn’t reach your hands further than your waist now

Just then you a got a message from Simon

An image of you, well mini you it’s hands tied around it’s waist

And a small text saying, “told you to wait princess, be a good girl f’ me”

That sly bastard

Really, visiting that store was a blessing curse in disguise.

But maybe giving Simon indirect control to your body wasn’t half as bad especially for those days when he felt generous :)

#ghost mw2 #simon riley #simon fluff #simon x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley call of duty #simon smut #cod simon #smut #ghost simon riley #simon ghost smut #simon ghost riley #call of duty simon #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #simon riley fluff #simon ghost x reader #cod simon riley #ghost smut #cod simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost #simon ghost x you #ghost x female reader #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #domestic cod #cod x you #cod x reader

[foxy-eva]

Lavender & Lace

Summary: Spencer didn't know how much fun going shopping with his girlfriend would be

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut 

Content Warning: (18+, minors DNI) lingerie, semi-public sex (in a dressing room), almost getting caught, fingering, unprotected penetrative sex

Word Count: 1.6k

Masterlist

When you initially asked Spencer to come shopping with you, he expected to see you in different options for new work attire, maybe some casual clothes as well. What he hadn't expected was you grabbing one piece of very alluring lingerie after the other with the prospect of letting him see you wearing each of them. 

Spencer, currently standing right behind you, was holding four different types of bras for you while you inspected some more underwear that would leave very little to the imagination. 

With a smirk spread over your face, you wondered, "What do you think about this one?"

"Uhm…," was all Spencer had to say to that. 

It was getting harder by the second for Spencer to not imagine you wearing all those tempting clothing options. He knew that if he'd allow his mind to wander that things could get very inappropriate very quickly. There was no denying the disadvantages of the male anatomy when it came to impure thoughts in a public place. 

"I think I'll just have to try on everything!" You chirped as you grabbed your boyfriend's hand to lead him to the fitting rooms. 

When you wanted to pull him into the confined space, Spencer hesitated, asking, "You want me to go in there with you?"

"I need to know what you think." Pointing at the clothes Spencer was still holding for you, you added, "Unless you want me to walk out of the dressing room for everyone to see me wearing this."

After contemplating his options for a split second, Spencer stepped into the changing room with you and closed the curtain behind him. Sitting down on the little chair in the corner, he handed you the first bra to try on. You were quick to undress and noticed how Spencer's cheeks began glowing once your chest was exposed. 

It was obvious how hard he tried to be respectful but he couldn't help but shyly take a glimpse of your curves. You found his reaction endearing, especially knowing how different he usually was when he saw you naked in another context. 

"Spencer, you have seen them a million times," you giggled.

He found your eyes and corrected you, "It's only been 158 times. And I still can't believe how beautiful you are."

For a moment you tried to recount if this number could be accurate but you knew Spencer never made a mistake when it came to math. You almost wanted to tell him that you couldn't believe he knew the exact number but the truth was, you weren't surprised at all. 

Spencer's eyes followed every one of your moves a lot more blatantly than before as you tried on the first piece of clothing. You started with the most modest one, a bra with a color similar to your skin tone you could wear in your everyday life. Your boyfriend almost seemed relieved when you picked that one to try on first. 

"It works but it's not really what I'm looking for," you said as you reached back to unclasp it. 

Once again Spencer's eyes fell to your chest and you couldn't help but laugh, "My eyes are up here."

"Sorry," he mumbled, his entire face colored in a lovely rosy shade. 

You reached for a more alluring piece of lingerie, something you thought Spencer would really like on you. 

As you brushed over the lavender-colored lace, you announced, "I think I'll try that one next."

Spencer audibly gulped before clearing his throat but he didn't say anything. Once the bra was in place, you noticed how thin the fabric was. It was barely covering the curve of your breast and your nipples were visible. Nothing you owned came even close to how daring this bra was. 

Spencer noticed that, too. 

He also noticed how his pants suddenly got a lot tighter, his attempt to keep his thoughts decent failed at last. His mind raced to a image of you wearing that piece of lingerie together with a matching pair of panties that he would just push aside to fuck you. 

The soft tone of your voice brought him back to reality. "Could you help me adjust the straps?" 

He got up from the chair, aware that he was unable to hide the bulge in his pants from you. At this point he had already abandoned his hope to be able to keep up a decent demeanor. 

"Looks like you really like this one," you purred once you noticed. 

Spencer stood behind you, finding your eyes in the mirror. 

"I do," he confirmed. "I love that color on you." 

When his fingertips made contact with the skin of your back, a shiver ran down your spine. He was quickly done with adjusting the straps of the bra but let his hands linger anyway. His eyes were dark and filled with lust, a look you usually only got to see when you were alone with him. 

"What are you thinking?" You breathed as if it wasn't obvious. 

Still acting too reserved for your liking, he answered,"I'd rather not say."

You didn't let go just yet, encouraging him to speak his mind by saying, "No need to be shy."

Spencer leaned down to find your ear, his breath feeling hot against your neck when he groaned, "I'm thinking about what I want to do later."

One of your hands reached back to feel his hardness through his pants, whispering, "Why wait?" 

"We're in public," he reminded you as he removed your hand despite his desperation to find some relief. 

Your hands flew to your pants, undoing them as you cooed, "Guess I'll have to be quiet then." 

Spencer looked at you in disbelief, clearly hesitating to bring to action what both of you longed for. Once your pants dropped to the floor, there was no more holding back. He pressed himself against your back and let his hands wander over your body. One of them made contact with the curve of your breasts, brushing over the thin lace of the bra until your peaks hardened. 

The other hand descended down your stomach until his fingertips carefully parted your folds to access your most sensitive spot. He teased you for a few moments until he was certain you were ready for him. With a firm push against your shoulder he slightly bent your body until your palms met the mirror. 

His mouth found your ear once more, breathing, "One sound and I'll stop."

When you heard the sound of him undoing his belt, you felt like you might lose your mind. Gone was any trace of the shy man who barely dared to take a look at the lingerie you picked out. The way he let his eyes roam over your figure now excited you more than you could put into words.

Through the mirror you watched him spit in his palm to give himself a few strokes. You stood on your tiptoes and tilted your hips a little more to give him access to your body. He didn't hold back in the slightest, pushing into you with one swift motion while his mouth kissed along your neck. Biting down on your own lips, you tried your best to hold back the moans that usually escaped your mouth in moments like this. 

The sensation of creating such an intimate moment in an almost public setting like this was too much for you to handle. Usually Spencer took his time with you, teasing you with slow thrusts until you begged for more. Today was different. He pushed into you with purposeful motions, making it clear that he wanted you to fall over the edge within just a few moments. 

You locked eyes with him through the mirror and admiring the rosy shade spread all over his cheeks and neck. It was obvious how much he was enjoying this moment, almost forgotten was the possibility that someone could disturb the two of you. 

Until you heard a stranger's voice from the other side of the curtain. 

Spencer instantly stopped moving while placing his hand over your mouth. You were sure that this would be the end of your encounter, making you abandon your mission before either of you had found relief. But your boyfriend just listened and waited with a lot more patience than you'd expected. 

It appeared that the stranger was talking to someone else and soon walked away from their place right in front of your dressing room. When he was sure that nobody knew about the lewdness happening behind the curtain, Spencer began moving again, harsher and quicker than before. 

"You better hurry or we'll get caught," he whispered before kissing the side of your face.

He kept his hand on your mouth, not fully trusting you to stay quiet. It proved to be the right choice once you entered a state of pure bliss, the sounds of your pleasure muffled by Spencer’s hand pressed against your lips. The second he felt you pulsing around his hardness, he let go as well. He shared your warmth with you until neither of you had anything left to give. 

When your bodies parted, the remains of your shared desire began dripping down your thighs. Spencer was quick to hand you a tissue from your purse and helped you clean up any evidence of impropriety.

Once both of your pants were back in place, Spencer found your eyes and softly asked, "Are you okay?"

Smiling at him, you nodded, "Yes, are you?" 

"Yeah but…," he paused and placed his hands on your waist, gently moving them up until they brushed over the purple lace of the bra. "I think I'll need to see you wearing that again at home." 

"That can be arranged," you snickered. "I'm pretty sure there's also a matching pair of panties." 

After placing a kiss on your lips, Spencer chuckled, "I can’t wait to see that."

If you enjoyed reading this story you should check out the other fics in my NSFW Masterlist!

Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @spookydrreid @gspenc @justreadingficsdontmindme @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @pauline5525mgg @sanaz1dlol @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @s4r4hsblog @sebs-oxygen @beepbooptoop @lovejules888 @liltimmyst @encyclo-reid-ia @lilibet261 @fandomstuffff @spencer-reid-wonderland @happymangospot @conniesanchor @reaux02 @ellamaianderson @cynbx @dashneydanger @melifluorei-d @bitchassbecky691 @iameternallylonely @hotchandspencearedilfs @kobaltdragon @amititties @lover-of-books-and-tea @castiels-majestic-wings @torigorie @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @reidtopia @velvetthunder93 @cncoxlifeline @jordie-gvf-admin @saturnstringz @missabsey

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#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

[readychilledwine]

Family Matters

Summary - After years of waiting due to the fae cycle being so inconsistent, you are finally ovulating, and Rhys is more than happy to take advantage

Warnings - breeding kink, unprotected sex, oral, mentions of pregnancy

A/N - is this possibly going to lead to a pregnancy sex kink fic? Yes.

Rhys paused as he entered the chambers you two shared, a familiar soft scent almost knowing him to his knees and forcing him to crawl to you. He'd been waiting years for this opportunity to come again, and he could hardly believe his luck that it had landed on a week where nothing was scheduled.

“Darling,” he moved towards the bathroom, finding you bathing while looking out the window. “Hello y/n Darling.”

You smiled at him, unusually bubbly even for yourself and offered him the bottle of wine you had been enjoying. It was the perfect day. A light snow was falling, causing the house to light the hearths and supply you with glorious amounts of warm cider and wines. “Hello my love,” Rhys was already removing his clothing, then stepping into the tub to join you. “Such a beautiful day.”

He hummed, kissing your pointed ear softly before moving your hair to the side and kissing your neck. “Can I make it even more beautiful?”

You turned in his arms, smiling up at him and cocking your head. “I do not see how you could.”

Rhys squeezed your sides softly. “You're beginning your ovulation cycle.” He smirked as your eyes went wide, a beautiful flush hitting your cheeks. “I want to try. We're finally in a time of peace. I want to be a father.”

You nodded, “I'm ready too.”

Rhys tilted your head up, kissing you softly. Then deeper as you relaxed into him. Sex with Rhys was always an adventure. He could be rough and dominating or take things soft and slow, and it appeared with his need to breed you growing, soft and slow was his choice tonight.

He backed you to the edge of the tub, lifting you to set you down before running his hands along your smooth soft skin. “You'll look so pretty,” he whispered into your neck before biting. “Round with my babe inside of you. Growing our family.” He moved his kissed to your collarbone, gently biting down and smiling as you moaned. “Going to be a good girl for me? Lay in our bed all week while I pump you full?”

You felt that coil starting already, losing your mind in the haze he was creating. You legs went wider on their own as his hand went up your thigh, “Of course you are, always such a good girl for daddy.”

Rhys kissed directly down your sternum, then stomach, his mouth set to one goal as he moved your legs over his shoulders and kneeled. “There she is,” he purred. “There's my pretty pussy.”

Rhys dove in, never needing permission to wrap his lips around your clit and fuck you with you tongue until you saw stars. Your hands shot for his inky hair, a loud breathy moan leaving you lips as you pulled him closer. He'd waste no time tonight, not having an exact time on when you would be the most fertile made his goal simple. Fuck and fill you as many times as possible within the next 7 day window.

A finger gently pushed into your aching hole and instantly welcomed by warm wet walls, making him groan. You were so sensitive with all the added hormones flowing through you. “Rhys,” you whined loudly, head falling back as he curled his finger into your gspot. “Not gonna last, baby.” He hummed again, sending vibrations through your core before claws scrapped against your mental shields. That's the point. Cum for me so I can take you. Need you wet and ready.

It took a single roll of his tongue, sent right as he sent you images of you on your back, breasts bouncing as he rolled his hips into you. You came with your eyes shut, a silent scream in your throat before falling into whimpers.

Rhys instantly was out of the water. Carrying you to your bedroom as you came down from your high. He set you on the bed gently before using tendrils of darkness to get you into a mating press, knees tucked into your chest and legs wide. “Can't waste time, Darling.” He seemed sad, almost disappointed that he couldn't worship you, ruin you the way he wanted to. He stroked his cock, eyes locked on your folds before lining himself up and sliding home.

You moaned in unison, your hands instantly being held down by more snake-like figures of the night sky. Rhys went slow, thrusting in and out of you. You felt yourself clenching around him already, mind lost in the many positions you knew he'd have you in this week.

“Thinking that way is going to make me cum faster, baby,” Rhys groaned. His thrusts were aimed, deep, anaifilled with purpose. You could feel each inch of you tingling and setting a blaze as he began to lose control, going faster and harder as your moans grew louder and louder.

You were both close, the bond you shared singing and shimmering brightly as you began chanting his name in a breathy voice.

It was complete euphoria.

It was the stars shooting across the sky.

It was the galaxy exploding before you as you came with a loud scream.

As you did, your mind started to imagine you round with Rhysand's child.

That image sent him over. That thought of you successfully bred and filled with him, his scent lingering on you permanently. He came with a roar, shaking the house and holding you closely to ensure you could not move away from him.

He held himself inside of you, refusing to risk you losing a single drop and moved to kiss you.

“Round one of,” he looked at the clock “70 complete.” His smile was cheeky, am almost boy like grin as he kissed your check and rolled so you were on top of him, cock still held inside of you.

“Only 70?” You responded with a bored tone. “I expected better.”

Rhys went stiff below you. “You don't think I can do it? It's only 10 times a day.” He was challenging you, begging you for a reason to pump you so full you'd feel it dripping out of you for weeks.

You lifted your head. “No. I don't think you'll make it 14 rounds.”

#acotar #acotar x reader #rhys x reader #rhysand fic #rhysand x reader #rhys x y/n #rhys x you #rhysand acotar #rhysand x y/n

[captainfern]

hi gorgeous! you literally started my price obsession like your writing is so gooood! I was wondering if you could write a smut in which price comes back home from a long mission and walks in on the reader touching herself? and he ends up overstimulating the hell out of her as like a punishment? this sounds so weird lmfao but I know if you wrote this is would be so amazing <333

Lounge Act

Captain John Price x fem!reader

[“Lounge Act” by Nirvana]

[18+]

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

• summary - price walks in on you touching yourself, and isn’t particularly happy at your impatience lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 2.5k • warnings - fem!reader, mutual masturbation, fingering, orgasm denial, forced orgasms, degradation, praise, unprotected piv, riding, dirty talk of course, strong language

✿ oh my god stop i’m blushing 🫶 thank you so much anon ! i hope you enjoy <3 and lol it’s not weird, i enjoyed writing this 😈

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

Three weeks of no Price.

Three fucking weeks.

It was torturous, being away from the man you loved, for so long. You missed him so much, and he missed you too. You couldn’t wait for him to come back home and kiss you, hug you, love you. And touch you.

Those late night phone calls barely twice a week weren’t enough. His voice, scratchy through the phone, telling you how to touch yourself, how to make yourself feel good, what setting to put your vibrator at.

You’d moan to him through the phone, splayed out on your shared bed, bullet vibrator stuffed inside your leaking cunt as you rubbed gently at your clit— just how he told you too.

You’d hear the gentle fap of Price fucking his fist. He’d listen to your sweet sounds, so breathy and desperate as you called to him. His cock was hard in his hand, burning red at the tip, leaking and twitching each time you made yourself cum, whining his rank and name.

But the last time you did that was almost a week ago.

And, maybe you were ovulating, but you were so fucking horny.

Price was due home any day now. He hadn’t given you an exact time, merely a timeframe of a few days. So, you were lounging on the couch in your living room, silk pyjamas on, body heating up as you turned off your TV.

You couldn’t concentrate on anything with how your body was acting up.

“Oh, fuck.” You whispered, leaning back on the couch as you slipped a hand into the silk bottoms of your pyjama shorts.

Two of your fingers came into contact with your cunt— already wet, aching, as you ran the tips of your fingers through your folds. You bit your lip, somehow already so sensitive, as you circled two fingers around your clit, smearing your arousal.

Your mind automatically imagined Price stroking your cunt with his thick fingers. Fingers so much bigger than yours, so much rougher. They reached so deep and made you feel so good that you began to flush hot, sweat like shimmering scales across your exposed skin.

“Nngh— fuck.” You whispered as you shoved two fingers into your dripping core.

You imagined Price thrusting his digits into you, another finger on your clit, rubbing it in smooth circles. You moaned at the image, pressing a spare finger to your clit and beginning to circle it.

Price would get his fingers deep inside you, hitting that gummy spot and make you sob out. You’d beg him, plead him, just keep going. He would hum low in his chest, praising you gently, slamming his fingers into you, your arousal drooling down the curve of your arse.

On your couch, you pumped your fingers in and out of you, the sound of squelching barely audible over the roar of blood in your ears. You screwed your eyes shut, tossing your head back against the couch, stroking that small bundle of nerves until your entire lower body was tingling.

“Ah, fuck, Price, baby, please—” You whined, imaging those soft brown eyes looking up at you, waiting for you to cum all over his fingers.

As you chased your release, you didn’t hear the door open, nor the footsteps down the hall.

Price followed the noises. He heard them as soon as he opened the door. At first, he half-expected you to run up and greet him as soon as you heard the door unlock, but you were clearly preoccupied.

Carefully, he dumped his bag— and the bouquet of flowers he got you— in the hall before entering the living room, where you sat blissed-out with your hand down the front of your pants.

His cock immediately grew hard at the sight, and the way you were whimpering his name almost killed him. Quietly, he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his cargos before he crossed the room.

You were about to let go when you heard his belt buckle, and your movements stopped out of instinct, eyes popping open before finding Price walking over to you, hand dipping into his pants.

“Price!” You beamed, eyes hazy, body thrumming with pleasure.

Price grunted, pulling his cock out of his cargos and grasping the base. You blinked at him, licking your lips as he began to lazily stroke himself.

“Touching yourself?” Price asked rhetorically. “Just couldn’t wait, eh?”

You didn’t say anything, just watched as he pumped his cock a few feet from your face.

“Don’t stop on my accord, my love. Keep playing with that pretty cunt,” he whispered, and you complied. You wiggled out of your shorts, spreading your legs before pushing your fingers back into your dripping hole, moaning his rank loudly. He cursed, picking up the speed of his hand. “Jesus…”

You were already so close, eyes shut and head tilted in pleasure. You panted hard, rubbing your clit simultaneously as pleasure built up within you.

“Price, I’m gonna—”

With a grunt, he moved closer to you and forcefully removed your hand from your cunt. Your eyes snapped open and you stared at him confusedly, lower body shaking.

Price moved your wet hand to his hard cock, forcing your fingers around it, smearing your arousal along the length. You let out a low noise of content as he covered your hand with his and stroked his cock, still standing in front of you as you sat on the couch.

He was grunting above you, not saying anything, just making you jerk him off. But it only lasted a few seconds, before he pried your fingers off of his length and guided them back towards your soaking core.

“Go on.” He urged, and you knew.

You were so fucking sensitive. Thrusting your fingers back into yourself, you wanted to cry with how immediate the feeling was— orgasm nearing, so close, spiral coiling tight in your stomach after just a few strokes.

“That’s it, that’s it…” Price whispered above you, fucking his fist, now glossy with your arousal, tip dripping precum onto one of your exposed thighs.

You were whimpering, trying to keep your eyes open. You rubbed your enflamed clit, bucking your hips to meet the movements of your fingers, orgasm looming.

You were panting. “Price, baby—”

With his free hand, he grabbed your arm again, pulling it away from your core and holding it suspended in front of him. You whined, cunt throbbing, dripping onto the couch. Price, once again, wrapped your fingers around his cock, making you jerk him off, cock directly in your line of sight.

If you weren’t so uncomfortably tight right now, your take it in your mouth. Gladly.

“Fuck, you wanna cum so bad, don’t you, darling?” Price grit his teeth, moving your hand in tandem with his own.

You nodded desperately, trying not to grind your bare core into the rough material of the couch. You licked your lips as you pumped him, listening to his heavy breathing. You missed him so much it was unfathomable.

“Just couldn’t wait for me to get home and fuck you?” Price groaned, hips bucking slightly. “Too impatient… just too impatient.”

“Price,” you whined. “Missed you so much, just couldn’t wait. Missed you so much, baby”

He grunted again, fucking into your fist harder. Meanwhile, he bent his leg, leaning his knee atop the front of the couch, parallel to your core.

“Go on. Show me how much you missed me.” He pressed his knee forward, and you took the hint, shuffling to the end of the couch and leaning back ever so slightly.

When his clothed knee came into contact with your core, you jolted.

“Mm, fuck, captain.” You moaned his rank as you ground yourself onto his knee, the fabric soaking with your arousal.

You dragged your sensitive core over it, bucking your hips in time with the soft fapping of his hand above you. He watched your hips buck against the couch, puffy and soaked core rubbed raw against the material of his cargos, knee damp. He groaned, grunting like a man starved as he jerked off to your blissed-out expression, and the way you desperately rutted onto his knee.

“Price, can I cum? Please?” If he said no, you’d probably explode anyway.

He nodded hurriedly, pumping faster, voice tight. “Yeah, fuck, go on then. Slutty little whore, getting off on my fucking knee, eh?”

You moaned as you, as he said, got off on his fucking knee— pent up orgasm racking through you, forcing a high-pitched moan from your throat as you continued to grind yourself against his cargos. You soaked the material of his pants, riding out the last sparks of your release, before attempting to pull away.

He didn’t let you.

He’d stopped fucking his fist, cock painfully hard as he stooped over you, hands on the back of the couch, caging you beneath him, knee pressing into your sensitive core.

You whined, but he shushed you, watching the way his knee rubbed up and down your dripping slit. He continued the movements, and you gripped at his thigh, half-trying to slow him down, half-trying to keep him there.

“Want another one,” Price growled. “Give me another one, darling.”

You were so sensitive, burning hot beneath him as he ground his knee into your core. Legs twitching, covered in sweat, another orgasm built up within you and, before you could warn him, you came again. He grinned as you spasmed beneath him, slick flooding across his knee. He could feel your wetness sticky on the skin beneath his pant leg.

He pressed his knee to your core a couple more times, leaving you whining, before he retracted it. He pushed his cargos further down his thighs, sitting next to you on the couch then pulling you onto his lap.

You tried to kiss him, to give him a proper hello after weeks away. But you were cut short just inches from his lips— he shoved his fingers into your wet hole, making you sob out his name.

Price thrusted three thick fingers in and out of your cunt, noises wet and lewd. He used another finger to circle your bundle of nerves, which were on fire. You keened, shifting your hips, sensitive and overstimulated. Your cunt rubbed raw already, legs aching, stomach tightening in another impending orgasm.

You were going to die.

“S’need another,” Price whispered darkly. “Jus’need another, darling, come on. Fucking give it to me.”

His words were slurring, drunk off the way you reacted to his touch. His cock was hard against your inner thighs, and you so wanted it inside you. Instead, three fingers— the fingers you had been fantasising about for the past three weeks— stretched you out, causing arousal to drip out of you and onto his lap.

You screwed your eyes shut, mouth agape, head dropped slightly. “Baby—”

You came around his fingers with a flutter of your overworked muscles, squeezing the digits tight. You whined, body wracking against his, burning hot like a candle. Price hummed, pleased, continuing the movements of his fingers as you rolled out of your third orgasm.

He wasn’t fucking stopping. Jesus Christ.

“Uh, uh, P-Price,” you breathed, clawing gently at his shirt. “What… what are… fuck, oh my god, please…”

“You wanted to cum so bad, didn’t you, love?” Price cooed. “Wanted to cum so bad that you just couldn’t wait f’me? Thought you’d be happy by now? This desperate cunt gets to cum so many times.”

Your legs were shaking. You whined, “Price, please, I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” Price grunted, fucking his fingers into that spot inside you, making your eyes roll. “Yes you fucking can, and you will. Take it like the needy fucking whore you are.”

Your moans became silent when you came for a forth time, holding his shirt in an iron grip as you released around his fingers. You gushed for him, soaking his pants even more from your position on his lap.

His fingers continued, and you sobbed, tears burning at your eyes.

“Can’t…” You sobbed, cunt raw and aching.

“O’course you fucking can,” Price said, pulling his fingers out of you. “You were so desperate for it a moment ago, weren’t you, darling? Come on, then. You can take more. Desperate little sluts can always take more.”

You choked when he thrust his hard cock into your overstimulated cunt without warning, filling you to the brim. He knocked against your womb, you could feel him in your stomach, his hands moving to your hips while you gripped his shoulders.

“Fucking hell…” He whispered, before beginning a gruelling pace— thrusting up into you, fucking you down onto his cock.

Your cunt stretched to accommodate him, drooling down his length as his pelvis slapped into your arse, muffled by his pants half-way down his thighs. The zipper and button was cold against your under-thigh.

You felt like you were buzzing, about to short-circuit as he pushed you towards another orgasm. Your body felt so empty, yet so full at the same time. The way his cock bullied into you over and over made you struggle to catch your breath.

“Next time,” Price began, puffing as he bucked his hips, slamming himself into your wet heat. “You’re gonna wait for me. You’re gonna wait ‘til I get home and fuck you proper, understood? M’not gonna let you play with this fucking cunt ‘til I say. S’my wet cunt to fuck, yeah? S’my tight… mm-tight fucking cunt to stuff full.”

You moaned, nodding desperately at him.

He grunted, grip tightening as he hit that spot inside you repeatedly, making you shiver and gasp and gush around him.

“When I come home next time, I want you waiting on our bed, patiently, like a good girl,” Price breathed. “I don’t want a fucking lounge act, love. Wanna fuck you on our bed, and I’ll fuck you nice and full. Reward you for being such a good girl. But f’now, you’re not being a good girl—”

You whined, tears streaking your face. “No, no, no, please, baby, please. I’ll be good, I promise. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t wait, missed you so much, baby, I’m sorry—”

Finally, Price pressed his mouth to yours, tongue smoothing against yours. You moaned happily into his mouth, letting him lead. When you both pulled back, a string of saliva followed. It snapped when he licked his lips, eyes scanning your face.

“I know, darling. Missed you too, so much,” he said, then: “One more time. Cum for me one more time, my love.”

With a loud moan, you came around his cock, body completely spent. You jolted and tingled and slumped against his chest, breathing hard as he quickly fucked into your severely overused cunt.

“Good girl, good girl. Hold on baby, almost there.” Price whispered as he used you.

Then, with a short groan and a furrow of his brow, he came inside you, filling your burning cunt, his spend like a salve, cooling the burn. He let his cock soften inside you, holding you to his chest, rubbing his hand down your back.

“Missed you so much.” He whispered.

“Missed you too,” you breathed against his shoulder. “Sorry I couldn’t wait.”

Price chuckled. “It’s alright, love. Three weeks without your fiancés cock must have been so difficult, huh?”

You groaned, slapping him lightly on the chest. “Shut up.”

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

#captainfern #captainfernsalutes #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #captain john price #captain price #captain price smut #fem reader #price x reader #captain john price x female reader #captain’snirvana #captain john price x you #captain price x reader #cod smut #captain john price smut

[just-mint-to-be]

What you need (Yan! Soldier Boy x Fem Reader)

A/n: no idea what this is, something primal possessed me and I pelted this out whilst watching trashy tv. Just a short, self indulgent drabble I guess. He’s just soooo fine but awful. Anyway, goodnight x

NSFW: dub con, breeding, use of ‘bitch’, sexism

With every thrust, regret seated itself further into your heart. You tried to reason with yourself and in turn with his silent but knowing self assurance; you were not wrong for going, for not playing into his cardboard,

Yet, your current position filled you with both a literal and figurative . The thought of being anywhere else was alien, the idea alone having you subconsciously clench around him in apology for the daring thought of not needing him.

With your back arched like a bowstring only he could let fly and your bare breasts at the mercy of hard hazel eyes, you were in no state to do anything but feel. You could do little more than let him have his way; a reality akin to quicksand you were loosing the desire to swim against.

‘For a sweet girl…’ he grunted, adjusting your position on his lap, ‘you’ve been acting like a real bitch.’

Your lips parted, desperate to say something to no avail. Instead they remained open, every movement vocalised in meek little exhalations overshadowed by his wanton grunts.

‘It’s ‘kay,’ he pulled you closer, forcing you to steady yourself on his chest with one arm, ‘I don’t mind reminding you who’s the man, who’s boss here, you seem to enjoy it.’

‘I just wanted to go back home…’you blurted, earning a firm squeeze on your rear. The tingle of his prior disciplines lingering in faint red marks on your cheeks.

‘Home is here,’ he stated. ‘I don’t care what people do these days, if you’re my girl,’ he paused, one brow raising, ‘Which you are whether you like it or not… that means you stay at home, do as I fucking tell you.’

‘I want to be happy…’ you swallowed, knotting need in your core and budding sadness in your eyes making for a hefty lump of suppression in your throat.

For a moment, he was sympathetic- only ever wanting the exact same thing for you, but even more so for himself. You’d learn, eventually; but why relinquish the lovely present for what were future guarantees? For him, joy manifested only in the image of you safe at home, where he had complete control. Bliss, sheer reverie however, was encapsulated only by his current view of you bouncing on his cock- caught between

‘Sweet heart…’ he drawled, holding you in place with one arm whilst the other came to daintily brush your cheek. ‘I want you to be happy too, I know what’s best for you. But I can’t make it happen if you won’t let me.’

Compliance, submission, acceptance of his obsession…that was silver bullet to all that plagued you. The male was like a piston, matching his gyrations to your own slipping resolve and his own turbulent train of thought. Each one felt deeper, more intensively with the garnish of his ramblings.

‘We’ll move somewhere nicer. Some posh place in the suburbs, somewhere with a pretty little garden, get one of those pansy ass pedigree retriever dogs…’ he exhaled, sliding himself in even further, ‘plenty of space for a few little brats too, you’d make such a perfect mother y/n, wouldn’t that be good?’

‘I… I don’t know Ben,’ you swallowed, not daring to outright disdain his intricate, picture perfect plan. ‘I’m scared, I’ve never thought about kids… or marriage or any of this…’

‘Hmmm,’ he hummed, somewhere between contemplation and the small scraps of composure an impending orgasm offered. ‘Well dollface you,’ a heavy thrust preluded his next statement, ‘have, plenty, of, time, to think.’

You knew his wicked plan the moment two arms stronger than your whole being pulled you further atop him. ‘9 months in fact,’ hungry lips were forced on yours, the trials of his tongue only matched in intensity by his length. ‘Big… full tits, a kid inside you…. My kid….’ He exhaled, ending his assault with a deflating sound of relief. ‘There’s no way you’ll want to be anything but mine, no way you can be…’

You felt him paint you from within, staining you with the blueprint of his lifelong plan. Laying slump, a strategy akin to playing dead against his chest- one that quickly failed. ‘Hey, look at me…’ his tone was spent, soft with the trill of satisfaction. ‘You’ll be fine, it’ll be good. Teach you to be more ladylike, none of this independent, not needing me bullshit.’

#trying to make my posts more visually appealing than dumping text like a cat delivering a rat to ur doorstep #how long will it last? who knows #yandere oneshots #minty’s writing #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #minty’s the boys #Yandere soldier boy #dark! soldier boy #Yandere the boys #Yandere #yandere fanfiction

[whiskersz]

Hii saw that your request are open: can i ask for a vox x no filter reader, like they'll be saying whatever is on their mind, they'll be walking down the mall and they look at another person and say "damn they look ugly as shit"

Hello and thanks for the request! (Vox is so fun...) I admittedly did not have the biggest amount of ideas but I tried!

Vox x No Filter! Reader Headcanons

✰ Vox definitely finds this personality trait of yours very funny and entertaining. He’s also the kind of person – or well, demon – to have such thoughts even while talking to someone, so he gets you, really.

✰ He’ll be talking to someone for an interview or just because they came up to him and, while he’s trying to keep a somewhat cordial front, inside he’s thinking about how annoying they are or how their outfit sucks and Velvette would disapprove of it.

✰ So, when you end up saying those things, which are his exact thoughts, he can barely contain his laughter. If you’re not near the person, that is; Vox has a certain image he wishes to maintain, so if you spew out anything like that while he’s talking to someone or if they’re simply in hearing distance, he’ll let out a dismissive chuckle and claim that it was just a joke.

✰ He might even tell you to stop doing that while he’s talking to someone afterwards, rolling his eyes and getting all huffy.

“Darling, I thought I told you not to do that in front of people, at least.” “Huh? Do what?” “You know exactly what I’m referring to. When someone’s being annoying in a conversation, we...?” It’s your turn to roll your eyes, as he gently grabs your shoulders. “...Keep it to ourselves and boringly discuss it afterwards?” Vox proudly nods; “You’re a smart one!” he tries to give you a kiss on the forehead, but you push him away jokingly and he laughs.

✰ If you’re pretty far away and they can’t hear your comments however, he’s definitely in. He’ll laugh at what you said and even add to it!

“Damn, did you see the guy who just walked by? Ugly.” “It’s like you read my mind, ugly and unstylish.”

✰ Vox appreciates you having no filter whatsoever in everyday life together as well. He finds it funny when it’s funny, but also kind of sweet too. You’re the type to say it like it is, so if he does something that you appreciate you won’t be shy about it, you’ll outright say it. He likes attention and praise, so definitely don’t keep it to yourself if you appreciate something he does or says!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #x reader #vox x reader #vox x you #vox hazbin #vox headcanons #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin #hazbin vox

[ioniansunsets]

I JUST FOUND YOUR BLOG AND OMG

hey imma need that confession Heartsteel Kayn moment yannoooo… fr all I’ve been thinking about 😳😳😳

✖ Heartsteel!Kayn Confessing ✖

✖ Word Count: 1.2k

✖ Tags: Awkward Confessions

✖ A/N: Reader here is just someone who works at his studio! He met you as Heartsteel slowly begun to start out and get ready for debut. Also writing this with that one ask about him writing a song about this exact moment in mind. Heehee!

I was reading some fanfics on my side and got filled with so much adrenaline and emotions I spat this out. I got very very very carried away writing this. I hope its not too OOC. Thank you for asking for this, I couldn't stop thinking about writing it.

----

It sucked. It fucking sucked. The way his heart raced when you were near.

The loud thumping against his chest. He hated it.

He hated how vulnerably and un-badass it made him feel. How the high he got from you rivaled that of the stage.

How your voice played over and over in his mind more than any melody he knew. How your laughter made his knees weak. It made Him. Weak!

He hated. He loathed. He grunts in frustration as he rocks out hard on his guitar. Fingers picking at the strings, a sick solo riff but it was for no one but himself.

Oh, how he did arguably stupider things than usual when he saw you watching. Showing off to you he jumped off a stage once. Which is not too far off from usual but it was to no audience! It was during a practice run! He did it just to flex to you that he was cool! Fucking embarrassing to remember but he did! All because you were standing nearby! How could you do such a thing to him!

The absolute frustration he was filled with. Not pent up rage, not a craving for violence and destruction, but affection? Undeniable. Overflowing. Drowning and choking him. Affection!

He finally threw his guitar on the ground. Breathing heavy. Hands running through his hair to push away the hair that has fell to his face in his little jam session. Hands wiping away the sweat. No matter how long he played, how fast his fingers pressed the strings, how frantically he strummed away. How he still played, chipping his painted nails when he slips up and drops his pick. The loud music of his electric guitar couldn't drown out the high BPM beat of his heart going off in his ears. The mental image of you smiling and waving at him every time he shows up. The tingle in his fingertips imagining himself holding you.

Swallowing hard, he storms out of the studio. He was at his fucking limit and refused to deal with this flip flop of emotions any longer. A cold shower. He calms down. Tomorrow. At the studio when he goes in to record. He'll find you then. He'll go early before the rest of the band gets there. He'll get this done and over with. Enough hours were spent being a mess about you. He was going to get this done! Tossing and turning in bed for hours he finally falls asleep. Tomorrow, he'll confess.

xxxx

The next day came soon enough. Making sure he looked good, makeup on, hair styled nicely, a sexy ass outfit with his deliciously sculpted abs out. Not the usual for when he goes to the studio but if he was going to be confessing? Perfect. Yes he was perfect in his own eyes but still, his heart raced. Small whispers of Rhaast in his mind, telling him they might reject him, that he was someone that needed nobody, he shouldn't go up to them and say anything, the frustration was so good for his music! But still, he walked on. Boots hitting the floor at the same pace of his rapidly beating heart as he walks up to you. You heard him before you saw him, the thump of his boots echoing closer and closer.

" Hey!"

He cringes internally, the hell was that greeting. Hey? Just hey?! He smiles. Cocky as usual. Face never betraying his emotions, yeah he was cool like that. The shaking of his hands held back as he puts them in his pockets. Its alright, he looked cool. Just like that, hands in his pockets fiddling with his phone as he leans against the wall to talk to you.

" Can I talk to you a bit before I go and record stuff?"

Oh gods you smiled and nodded. His heart fluttered. His expression, involuntary, visibly lighting up. The way your smile just made him smile so bright back. He takes a deep breath.

" I uh...I love you."

He spat it out. It wasn't cool. It wasn't sexy. It was a choked out confession. Heart racing, palms now sweaty in his pockets, still shaking. Hells, shaking More now. His breath heavy as he tries to keep the anxiety at bay. A feeling of stage fright he never felt before. Suddenly hitting him. You look at him, face slowly getting more flushed as you process the sudden confession.

" I hate it but I've fallen head over heels for you. I'm a fucking wreck. You ruin me."

Kayn runs his hands through his hair, a habit to calm himself down. His eyes closed as he takes a deep breath before continuing.

" You genuinely make my time here at the studio fun, your presence is chaotic and calming at the same time. I want to be with you. I want us to be a thing. You already know me, you've seen the me on stage during practice, off stage when I record lines, you've seen Rhaast go all out and you still choose to be around me. I want you more than anything I've ever wanted."

He looks at you now, a calm stare. Lips pursed in a tight line. Swallowing hard. His nerves somehow finding solace in letting out all his feelings that were pent up over the month or two since you got to know each other. You laugh, gods your laugh. He's giddy. You tell him you love him too. He smiles.

A pause as he suddenly stands up straight. You tell him you love him too?

" Wait haha what? Really?"

He was amazing of course you'd say yes but still, there was that tiny part of him that was worried. You liked him back? You Love him? The amazing you! The you that shone like a sun in his frustrating days of endless work as a rockstar. You! He was fucking Elated. Arms immediately around you, a tight hug as he lets out a sigh. Breath he didn't even realize he was holding until now. His arms still shaking a little as he held you.

" Can I kiss you. Right now? I-"

Kayn doesn't even finish his sentence, the moment you nod his lips are on yours, passionate. Hands threading through your hair as he holds your head gently. Holding you against him. His free hand around your waist, supporting you as much as he was supporting himself from falling apart at your touch. How he loved you, the smell of your hair so close to him now, the taste of your lips on his, the feeling of your soft delectable lips on his. How warm you were in his hands, how faint your breath on his face. He was in love. He was in Love.

As he pulls apart. He takes another deep breath. The way you left him literally breathless. Fuck. This was an excitement he never felt before. Never has a kiss left him feeling so...good? Never has a hug left him literally shaking with excitement. You were special and now you were his.

" You're so fucking perfect you know that?"

He laughs shakily. A hand rising, trembling as he lightly touches his lips. Still in disbelief. He loves you. Undeniably. Overwhelmingly. The storm of emotions he held for the past, who knows how long, now a summer breeze filling his chest with a warmth he doesn't remember ever feeling. He loves you.

#Also from personal experience as I too jumped off a stage once to an empty audience for a flex. #I sprained my ankle after but it was cool. Kayn would do that I can see it happening. #Anon Answer #My heart was racing as i wrote this #i was shaking too #so i made kayn shake too #heehee #SO MANY EMOTIOSN #I LOVE LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #Kayn x Reader #Heartsteel!Kayn #Shieda Kayn #I really outdid myself writing this #this is my new favorite answer #Kayn LoL #Kayn League #KaynLeague #Kayn League of Legends #SCENARIOS #Shieda Kayn x Reader #im ruined i love this so much and i fucking wrote it lmao #League of Legends Scenarios #league of legends imagines #oh i love him i love him #to hold him close and tell him he is worthy of love that is hard and fast that leaves him breathless and wanting #to give kayn a love like no other that is you reader. thank you for loving him. #Yuno's Favourite Answer #oops proofred to make it gn