#I’m sorry but I really hate white suits
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VCARB Racesuits
#f1#daniel ricciardo#yuki tsunoda#I’m sorry but I really hate white suits#especially with all the different coloured logos
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early seasons spencer and bau reader undercover at a club and it’s just like. he is so flustered but also weirdly confident and do with this what you will
in which spencer reid and BAU fem!reader have to pose as a couple at a club. she's more than a little flirty. the conversation actually gets quite suggestive. he's cute when he gets flustered.
warnings/tags: discussions of sex, reader wears a tight dress and makeup and heels, discussions of blushing but r's skin color is not implied to be light, i just needed a reason to talk about sex flush LOL, if u don't visibly blush this will still read fine
a/n: I LOVE EARLY SEASONS SPENCER X FLIRTY READER OH MY GODDD thank you for this request angel from heaven I hope you all like this as much as I do teehee
The bass buzzes through the floor and vibrates your teeth. House music has never really been your thing. Neither have tight dresses and high heels while on the job—but you’re willing to objectify yourself just a little if it will lure yet another loser who likes to chop up young couples into the awaiting arms of the American correctional system.
Or to the wrong end of Emily's Glock. Whatever comes first.
You scan the club—it’s not your usual scene, and you can only imagine how Dr. Reid is faring. As far as you can tell this is essentially his nightmare. It’s sensory overload central even for you.
Your eyes catch on him at the bar, tucked away from the writhing crowd. He’s standing near the end, one arm resting on the surface while the other hand is jammed in his pocket. He seems completely unaware of the several women circling closer and closer. The whole earnest and dorky but still handsome thing seems to work well for him. Or, it would, if he had any interest in utilizing it. He’s dressed a little sharper than usual—no doubt styled by Morgan and Prentiss. Hell, the earnest dorkiness and the well fitted dark suit is working for you if nobody else.
Sometimes he just looks… edible.
And self-discipline doesn't always come naturally to you.
“Doctor,” you purr in greeting, grazing the forearm propped up on the bar with white-tipped nails as you insert yourself in front of him. His fingers twitch under your light touch.
Spencer doesn’t even try to hide the way his eyes sink down your frame, sticking to every highlighted curve like you’re dripping honey. Or maybe he just doesn’t realize that you can see that’s what he’s doing.
“Hi. You look nice.”
“Aw,” you smile, dulling the salacious edge to your voice, “you didn’t have to say that. Someone’s improvising.”
“I meant it. That dress looks nice on you,” he says, simply, and you hate his specific brand of charm because it’s not intentional. It’s not something he puts on. It comes out of nowhere and always knocks you on your ass when it hits—even in the smallest doses. His eyes narrow and he leans closer. You can feel the energy rippling around him like a force field as he examines you. “You’re wearing more makeup than you normally do.”
“Do you like it? Penelope ordered the wrong shade of blush and gave it to me. Supposedly it’s meant to make me look like I just had an orgasm. I don’t know if I believe it.”
Much to your disappointment, Spencer leans back, scanning the crowd for your target and speaking as if he’s only half-interested.
“That’s not what you would look like. Sex flush deepens the color of your entire face and chest, not just your cheeks.”
Your brows knit as you contend with unwelcome butterflies.
“Buy me a drink before you start telling me what I’ll look like after I orgasm.”
That catches his attention, and his suddenly wide eyes snap to you. If he had a drink, he’d be choking on it.
“I wasn’t—it was a general you, I’d never—that would be inappropriate. It was. It was inappropriate. Sorry. I’m sorry.”
You lean with your back to the bar, elbows propped on black granite, and swing your hair over your shoulder. Spencer’s eyes dart back down to your décolletage and then up to the ceiling like he regrets being born. You smile wickedly. Much better. This is the way God intended for you to interact with Spencer Reid.
“I’ll consider forgiving you. And I don’t blush. Not when I orgasm, not ever.”
Admittedly, you just want to milk the whole talking about you orgasming thing to see how pink you can make him. It’s not often you’re gifted with an opportunity to be so candid about your sexuality or flirt this unabashedly. But you are supposed to be posing as a couple. Maybe you’re just feeling extra in character.
Instead of stumbling over his words some more, Spencer smiles with a degree of bemusement like he’s caught you in a white lie.
His smile is so nice. His teeth are perfect, and his lips—
“Yes you do.”
Always so convinced he’s right, this one.
It’s annoying. And kind of hot.
“Uh, I promise you I do not.”
“Everyone blushes. It's a sympathetic nervous system activation response wherein blood rushes to your face. Your blood vessels dilate when you get flustered or anxious. Your face gets hot and your undertone changes.”
You raise your brows. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was challenging you.
“Yeah? Wanna bet?”
“Actually, no,” he mutters, losing any bravado and casting his eyes downward subserviently. “You have a habit of proving me wrong.”
“That’s right,” you gloat, smiling wide. Someone bumps into you, and you turn around, highly unprofessional insult locked and loaded—but it’s just a drunk girl who apologizes and stumbles off. The encounter does, however, remind you that you’re supposed to be finding a killer. “Do you think this is the best positioning? He might not be able to find us way over here.”
“You think we should move?”
You look back at him and nod, holding your hand out. He looks at it uncertainly. You waggle your fingers and infuse your words with sugar.
“Oh, come on. I don’t want to lose you. And we’re supposed to look like a couple, remember?”
Gingerly he accepts your hand. His is bigger than you’d have thought. Not nearly as freezing as your own perpetually are. It occurs to you as you grab his hand that his bone structure really is bigger than yours. He’s… tall. He is, at the end of the day, a real life adult man. His presence is palpable behind you and you enjoy the weight of his hand in yours as you tug him through the crowd, perhaps not taking the most direct route through the throng just so you can savor being able to touch him like this for a little longer.
Miraculously you spot an empty booth and slide into it. It’s a deep alcove, shadowy and secluded at the back. That’s where you settle, against black vinyl, and where you wave at Spencer to join you.
He lingers at the edge of the table, glancing around at the groups of dancing and drinking young adults.
“I don’t know. Can you even see the dance floor from back there?”
“Part of it. But I’m sure he’ll be looking in the booths for couples. He’ll come to us.”
Spencer faces you again and sighs ruefully, a begrudging smirk playing at his lips as he slides into the booth and joins you against the back wall. His side is warm against yours. He smells nice. Clean. Almost herbal, like patchouli or vetiver.
“What? You really hate sitting next to me that much?”
Spencer’s lips part wryly before he speaks, like he almost thought better of it but decided to anyway.
“I think you just wanted a reason to get me alone and secluded so you can finally accost me.”
Your knees bump. You lean into it.
“Accost you? That seems harsh,” you pout, leaning toward him clandestinely to undo his top button.
“I don’t see how. You are literally trying to take my clothing off as we speak.”
“I’m just increasing your sex appeal. It’ll be good, trust me. Maybe you’ll even end up taking one of those girls from the bar home. Or—back to the hotel, I should say.”
Spencer covers your fussy hands with his own sweetly, like he can sense the true jealousy simmering underneath the sarcasm, and places them in your lap. The touch lingers.
“Are you always like this?” He murmurs, voice lower than you can recall ever hearing it and twisted into the shape of a smile.
“Only with you, Dr. Reid. Speaking of, how about you? Do you flirt with many other FBI agents on official business?”
“Just the one. She’s kind of a full-time job.”
“Shut up. I’m basically your babysitter. If anything, I should be paid extra for dealing with you.”
“Attempting to seduce your charge seems like a bad business model. There are definitely some ethical issues there.”
His hands still rest on yours. You lace your fingers with his and speak sweetly, meeting his eyes best you can in the dark.
“I wasn’t aware I was seducing you. Do you feel seduced?”
He’s the first to look away after a few seconds pass—pulls your hands apart gently, politely arranging them back on your lap.
“I think you’re incorrigible and a terrible influence. In all honesty, you terrify me and more often than not I walk away from our interactions a little confused.”
You clap a hand to your heart, the bare skin revealed by your low cut dress warm under your fingers.
“Spencer… that kind of turned me on.”
He just looks at you for a moment, a hint of a smile on his pretty face, long enough to make you feel a bit nervous.
Then he’s leaning forward, and unconsciously so are you, almost forgetting to breath when you’re practically pressed against him in this booth and he’s whispering so low and sweet into your ear.
“He’s watching us. Right across the floor, next to the girl in the blue dress. White button up and a leather jacket.” His hand slides over yours, fingers skimming your collarbone in the process as he interlocks your grasp once more. “Keep your hand right here and lean closer. We need to maintain his interest.”
“I don’t think I can lean any closer,” you breathe, hoping it doesn’t register as nervous as it really is. You’re supposed to be the confident one who teases him. “But if you want me to sit on your lap, just ask. I won’t say no.”
He chuckles, too loud to be amorous. It’s clearly genuine. It sounds like the way his reddened cheeks always look. It almost does more for you than the bedroom voice.
“You… you are beyond help. I don’t think you could be appropriate if your life depended on it.”
Slowly you pull back so you can look into his eyes—much closer than you normally have an excuse to. They dart wildly over your face, partially obscured by the dark which cuts shadows deep into the dramatic hollows of his bone structure. He really is so pretty.
You glance toward the man, who’s pretending not to watch you. When you focus your attention back on Spencer, sliding your hand up the curve of his jaw, you find yourself making a dangerous wish. You find yourself wishing that you didn’t have an audience. That this wasn’t all for show. That neither of you had earpieces in.
His pulse hammers under your little finger, and his lips part slightly as he doesn’t have the wherewithal to not glance at yours. He’s so unaware of how obvious he’s being. It’s cute.
You run the tips of your fingers through the hair in front of his ear, the one sans bluetooth, pushing it back, before leaning in close once more to whisper.
“Good thing we’re not going for appropriate. Actually—your hands could stand to wander a little more, Dr. Reid. Let me know if you need me to tell you where to put them.”
#spencer reid#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic
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hiiii im actually so obsessed with how u write spencer!!! could i request sucking him off like in the kitchen or something and hes still in his suit after work and hes like rllllly pissed from a long day at work. and his hand is in your hair, when he finishes he kind of holds her in place so she cant get off to spit, goes in with his other hand to pinch her nose and tells her to swallow?
RUFF RUFF RUFF RUFF bless your brain.
you knew something was different the moment you entered the house.
the usually calm, library-like atmosphere your shared apartment with spencer held was replaced by a tight, thick tension that suffocated you.
“spence?” you called down the hallway as you kicked your shoes off and hung your coat.
this was a rare occasion, being home before spencer, but your big ceo boss was staying late which meant his assistant—you, had to stay late too.
you frowned when you didn’t get a response, instead padding further into the apartment on your white, stocking-clad feet.
“baby?” you didn’t see him in the living room so you turned to the kitchen where he stood with his back to you, leaning on the counter.
“you’re late,” god, how you hated when you couldn’t place his tone. he didn’t sound mad, but he didn’t sound… not mad.
“I’m sorry, owen had me running errands all night, his big meeting’s coming up and he’s really stressed,” you explained, not wanting an argument to start. you walked up to him, softly leaning on the counter beside him and running your hand up his arm.
his face was tense and his demeanour tight. he hardly moved at your touch, simply taking a long blink and a deep breath. he’d rolled his shirt sleeves to just below his elbows, the veins in his forearms prominent and thick.
“something’s wrong, long day at work?” you asked him. his fingers twitched on the counter, his eyes flicking down to you as he took in your work attire. the silence freaked you out a little. “baby, say something.”
nothing.
“does your boss have to see you looking so pretty?”
in a flash, he was on you. his hands all over you and his face in your neck as he kissed and nipped at your skin. you laughed in surprise, your own hands coming to his shoulders.
“look at you in that tight, little skirt and stupid silk blouse. d’you reckon he gets off on seeing you, seeing you in your pretty stockings. does he know I dress you every morning? does he know how expensive that blouse is? I do. I fucking bought you that blouse.” his words surprised you, but it all sunk into place in your mind as he pressed you against his front and you felt his bulge poking your hip bone.
you could only whimper, nails biting into his deep grey shirt and head tilting back.
“spence-“ “-come on let me feel you. let me feel your mouth, baby, I need it, I need it so bad.”
before you could respond, he was pushing you onto your knees with one hand on top of your head and the other undoing his belt. you sat on your knees, waiting for him to get his belt and flies open.
his cock stood tall in front of your face. thick, long and leaky, you closed your eyes happily as he smacked his length onto your cheeks and smeared his precum all over you. your eyes flashed open and a gasp tore your throat as he grabbed at the hair at the crown of your head and pulled it back.
your mouth opened as he guided your mouth onto his cock, the two of you groaning in unison. it wasn’t not long before he hit the back of your throat, your eyes closing as his cock reached its usual resting point. but he didn’t stop there.
your eyes opened and you look up to him as he kept pushing. his own eyes were fixed on the way he disappeared past your lips, ignoring your panicked whimpers as your nose drew closer to the small patch of hair at his pubic bone.
tears gathered as he pressed your face to his crotch and his groan of delight filled your ears. meanwhile, you were whimpering and gagging around his cock and smacking his thighs pathetically as you begged for him to move.
as he rolled his eyes with a sharp sigh, he pulled his cock out of your mouth and watched you, annoyed, as you coughed.
“breathe. gather yourself.” his words were short and demanding, waiting for you.
once again, he grabbed you by the hair and smushed your face into the underside of his cock.
“lick.” he instructed, a small smirk pulling at his lips when he felt your pathetic kitten licks. “oh, baby. I know you can do better than that.”
his teasing tone had you licking wide and long stripes up his cock as he enjoyed the feeling. not long after, he was jamming his cock down your throat again.
his hips worked overtime as he facefucked you, grinning down at your pathetic look. teary eyes, mascara-streaked cheeks, red complexion. and the cock sliding in and out of your spit-soaked lips.
feeling his pent up release hurtling towards him, he held your face down to his crotch again as he ignored your muffled wail. hot cum spurted into your mouth, some dripping down your throat. you pushed away from him, but he held you by your nose as he pressed down on your nostrils.
with half his cock in your mouth and your cheeks full of cum, you only wanted to spit into the sink. but, alas, the dreaded instruction came.
“swallow.”
“don’t wear your stockings tomorrow. I want owen to see the bruises.”
#x reader#smut#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds smut#criminal minds spencer reid#post prison spencer reid#post prison spencer#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer smut#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid smut#spencer reid#post prison reid#x reader smut
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Hello Jade! I have a request for hotch if that’s okay, I was thinking something like he’s dating sunshine!reader who goes to a police precinct with the team and the sheriff/deputy insults Hotch in front of her (maybe she’s not part of the BAU so he doesn’t realise she knows Hotch?) and she snaps and punches him/pushes him to the ground and afterwards she’s really quiet and refusing to tell anyone what happened cause she doesn’t want Hotch to hear that people were bad mouthing him. Everyone is confused cause she’s usually so bubbly and it’s disconcerting to see her so stern but she has to protect her man damnit 😤
(Ps I’m the anon who got confused about rules n you’re right I was looking under guidelines not requests 🤦🏼♀️ sorry!)
hi babe, thank you for your request! (and no worries at all, no sorry necessary!!)
—hotch is dumbfounded when you slap a deputy sheriff, but you have your heartfelt reasons. fem, 2k
You're not specifically BAU, but when Hotch calls, you answer. You don't look BAU either in your skirt with your blue laptop carry case; twice you're asked what you're doing in the precinct and if you need assistance, but eventually you get to the centre of the action upstairs, meandering through the detective's desks toward a conference room with a sticky-taped sign that says to knock before entering.
"Hey, Spencer," you say, shouldering open the door. "They leave you behind?"
Spencer turns away from his white board. "I'm more useful here right now. Did you bring the ethernet cable for Garcia?"
You put your laptop case on the table and pull out her desired cable. "Where is she?" It's hard-pressed for Penelope to be found anywhere away from her computer during case times. You must get twenty or more rejection emails a month from your fellow tech analysist. Sorry, working a case :'(
"Bathroom. There's a kitchen if you need coffee. You have a badge?"
You flash your visitor's badge at him. "Get you one?"
"Four sugars. Thanks, L/N."
You flash him a smile. The kitchen is back the way you came and to the right. It's nowhere near big enough for the workforce, three tables and one microwave next to a sink full of mugs. You smile at anyone who looks at you and beeline for a coffee pot. No one questions you. They must be used to outsiders invading their space this week.
"Mean fucking guy."
You tilt your head to the side, hand paused in their cup cabinet above the sink. You shouldn't be nosy, but they're not being very quiet, either.
"He has to be mean, I guess. That's a tight ship to run," says a second voice.
"I'd understand it if I thought they were getting somewhere. It's been four days, and between the string bean and his pushpin map and that tech girl who won't shut up? They're doomed. The boss is either too stubborn or too damn stupid to realise."
You close the cabinet and turn around.
"I fucking hate this shit. Ties in their suit jackets coming into our investigation and chasing the wrong leads. We could've had Miller in cuffs two days ago if Hotchner hadn't shut us down, two days ago! And now another kid is dead, and there's not a drop of remorse on him. He doesn't care about doing his job, he–"
"He what?" you ask. Your heart is beating hard before you've so much as parted your lips, your hands trembling. You screw them into tight balls.
"Excuse me?"
Your opposition is a rough hewn man in a deputies badge, a cup of coffee held between two paws. He narrows thick salt and pepper brows at your question, his mouth screwed into a telling snarl.
"You think Agent Hotchner doesn't care about his job? So why is he here? Why did he agree to take the case?"
"Who the fuck are you?"
You shake your head in annoyance and take the FBI badge from your little cross body bag. You toss it on the table, your beaming face looking up at him a juxtaposition to the glare you wear now.
He stands up from his table. The lunch room hushes but the riot of precinct cacophony stays strong just outside of the door, a thrum that battles your roaring heart. You're so angry you can barely speak, and it'll only get worse.
"I'm sorry you have to hear it from me, darling, I am, but your boss out there? Agent Hotchner?" The deputy scoffs. "He's a fool running blind. He turned away from the real issue here. He's a prideful, narcissistic idiot who's let the power of his paycheck get to his head, and as far as I'm concerned? So long as he stops us from arresting Jaden Miller? He's a murderer, too. The blood is on his hands."
You know you're going to slap him from the moment he says 'murderer', but the knee to his crotch straight after is a surprise even to yourself. All you're thinking for one horrible white-hot moment is How can I hurt him? It's shameful, and you slam your knee up a second time anyhow.
—
"You can tell me what happened now or later, but it's going to be much easier on you if you tell me now."
Hotch hates this part. What he wouldn't give to have someone else here to reprimand you. He understands why Gideon left and he wouldn't want him back unwillingly, but Hotch thinks your nightly phone call may go over smoother tonight if it were Gideon standing in his place. Half the time Hotch finds he's uninterested in scolding you. It's why you stay firmly in your department and away from his bias in the BAU. He can't be optimal at his job while you're around.
It's not limited to telling you off, of course. When you're near, he wants to act like it. He wants to take your hand, hold your arm, rub a palm between your shoulders. He wants to pull you into his lap, or pinch the soft lobe of your ear between his fingers to watch you shiver, blow warm air at the back of your neck to hear your laugh. This cold silence is his worst nightmare, but he can't cross the line.
Well, he can't cross the line too much.
In the privacy of a cordoned, borrowed office, Hotch can sit beside you. The blinds are closed, and his intimidation act wasn't getting him anywhere anyways. More flies with honey than vinegar.
"I can't show favouritism here, do you understand? Especially when you're being physically violent against the deputy sheriff." Hotch watches the soft pillow of your bottom lip tremble in a private terror. "I know you wouldn't do this for no reason. I know. Give me a reason to take your side and I will."
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Did he say something inappropriate?"
You don't answer.
"Did he?" Hotch can feel the anger he's been pushing down start to rise. When a woman like you, happy-go-lucky, pretty, and always smiling, turns to violence, it's not hard to picture why. He knows full well the horrible things a man can say to a woman. "Please, trust me to take care of this."
"Hotch, I really don't want to talk about this. You can reprimand me, send me home."
"No. Tell me what he said."
You glare at him. Hotch finds with a heart-skipping hurt that it's the first time he's been on the receiving end of your disdain. "No. I don't want to."
"And I don't want to send you home." He knows how he looks, stony-eyed and furrowed brow. He has to try hard to relax into a more neutral expression. "I won't. Not when I know you'd never hurt someone."
"Well, I did."
"We all do things we don't mean to in anger."
In the quiet, he can hear Emily asking loud questions about what happened, and her almost comedic gasp as someone informs her of the situation. Morgan couldn't find the words to tell Hotch over the phone what happened, just told him to hurry back, and it was doubly difficult to get the story out of Spencer, who'd been the one responsible for standing in your way.
"He called her a bitch," Spencer told him. "I didn't want to hold her back after that."
The sheriff deputy has a good hundred pounds on you, so no matter what he called you, Hotch is glad you were pulled away.
Hearing that you'd been called a bitch set his nerves aflame. When Spencer explained that this was said by a man on his knees after a swift jab to the crotch, Hotch was more confused.
He follows a whim. He's biassed for sure, but he knows you're the most beautiful woman in any room that you walk into. It doesn't shock him that a high-ranking authority figure would take advantage of his position to make a pass at you.
"You have nothing to be ashamed of," he says softly. "Whatever he said to you, I– I'm not supposed to support violence, but I understand if it got too much. Sexual harassment is unjustifiable, and I'll stand with you and your actions completely."
"He didn't harass me, Aaron," you say, looking down at your knees. You're wearing dark stockings, pinching at the fabric distractedly.
"Did he touch you?"
"No, Aaron–" You sigh frustratedly. "I don't want to tell you what he said because it's not true."
"He insulted you?"
"He insulted you." You glance at him and then away. "I couldn't stand it."
If there weren't cameras in the room he'd bundle you into his arms and kiss the slope of your cheek, because how is he supposed to handle this? You're hitting people when they talk bad about him now?
Hotch doesn't need to ask to know it was bad. You're a well-meaning, well-adjusted person. You'd hardly hit somebody for calling Hotch a jerk. Something severe would've been said to have pushed you over the edge, but, to his detriment, Hotch has heard a thousand awful things about himself from a thousand different mouths, and he doesn't worry about what it was.
"Alright. Listen to me carefully." Your shoulders stiffen. "I don't want you hurting people over me. I don't need you to defend me. I don't want you to fight my battles for me, and I certainly don't want you assaulting people on my behalf."
Your lip again begins to tremble. "I'm sorry."
"No. Don't be sorry." He covers your knee in his hand gently, ducking his head to meet your glassy eyes. He's gone about this the wrong way, upsetting you unnecessarily. He rushes to correct it. "I love that you want to defend me, I love that you did, and it isn't lost on me how much it means to have you at my side, but… You could have been seriously injured. Honey, picking on someone your own size is a double-sided coin. What if the deputy hit you back?"
"I'm not afraid of getting hurt."
He leans down more, imploring, desperate to be heard. "I'm afraid of you getting hurt. Me. I'm worried someone's going to hurt you when I'm not around."
"He was saying all this stuff about you and it wasn't true–"
"It's okay," he says, shaking his head slowly from one side to another. "It doesn't matter. I know what people like him think of me, and he's not in an easy position." He drops his voice to a murmur for your ears alone. "I'm not saying you should agree with him, I can't tell you that I like him much."
You laugh weakly, the sound quickly melding to a sniffle. "I'm sorry, Aaron. I shouldn't have hit him. I don't know what came over me."
"We get angry for the people we care about."
He can't kiss you, really, not at work, but he can show you some heavy affection. It's a boundary crossed. Luckily, Hotch knows you won't report him.
"Thank you for defending me. You can stay on the case if you promise not to do it again," he says, squeezing your smaller hand in his, drawing a lopsided heart with his thumb into the back of it.
"I'll promise not to do it again if he promises to keep his stupid mouth closed," you mutter.
"Is it wrong of me to like this version of you?" he says.
You look him straight in the eye, your usual lightness restored, if dimmed just a touch. "I like all your versions, Agent Hotchner."
"Good. Remind the version that's your boyfriend to treat you accordingly tonight. Okay?"
You nod emphatically, both relieved and chastened. "Okay. Thanks, handsome."
You look tired. Tonight, he'll kiss you like he means it, maybe a touch too rough but apparently you're a hard ass now who can handle it, and he'll hold you close even if he can't give you the attention you deserve until the case is done. He'll make sure you know how much he appreciates your protection, rub your back for hours just the way you like it while sleep fails.
"You're welcome," he says. He has more to say but there's no more time to waste. There's still work to be done.
It'll come easier with you at his side, he's sure.
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble
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promises & melodies — coriolanus snow
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
warnings: slight tbosas spoilers, established relationship, buzzcut!snow, slight possessive snow, kind of toxic snow, fluff, Y/N usage, standard hunger games warnings.
authors note: hiii. so i can’t even really explain myself if i’m being honest.. tom blyth is too fine i’m sorry finnick 😔. part 2 is linked here, part 3 here. but i hope you all enjoy, much love!
masterlist
A bright smile adorned your face as you ran through the flower field with your cousins, Lucy Gray & Maude Ivory.
You and the Covey were showing your boyfriend, Coryo, the secret spots of paradise you had found during your time in District 12. Since the Seam wasn’t the most peaceful place, you and your family opted to find your own sanctuary.
You always had, specially when you were kids, before you got rounded up by the peacekeepers. You all moved where the wind took you, never staying in one spot for long.
You missed it.
But, this was okay, you thought to yourself. You still had some of the people you cherished most, some you had lost along the way.
You were grateful regardless, enjoying the time you spent with your loved ones.
Lucy Gray’s laugh rang in your ears as Maude began to sing another one of her tunes she had came up with.
Out of breath, the three of you slowed down, walking at a normal place.
“Lord, that kid. She’ll be singing until she goes to the grave.” You joked, your thick accent smiling with your features.
Lucy laughed with you, locking your elbow with hers. “Sounds like a good way to go if you ask me.”
You nodded.
Lucy Gray sent a smile your way before breaking off to catch up to Maude Ivory, who was bent down ahead of you, looking at some swamp potato, or Katniss, as Lucy liked to call it.
You shook your head with a smile as you heard Lucy tell her for the 10th time that it was too early for it to be ripe. Sighing softly, you enjoyed the flowers surrounding you, the sunshine on your skin, and the wind in your hair.
That was until you felt the grip of your lover on your hips, your heart immediately soaring in your chest.
He walked with you, his hands still on you as he came to walk beside you now.
“It’s beautiful out here,” You murmured.
He looked to you with a smile, the hand that was around your waist now going to grip your hand. “Where did you say we were going again?”
“To the lake.” You smiled. “Maude Ivory found it a couple months ago when we were explorin’.”
He hummed in delight. “Haven’t swam in ages.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll love it,” You linked your arm with his, leaning your head on his shoulder with a smile. “It’s almost as gorgeous as you, darlin’.” You teased.
He shook his head, breaking eye contact with you. “I doubt that.”
“You’ll see, Snow.”
After more walking and chasing after Maude, you and the Covey finally arrived.
Maude immediately took off, running into the water, the others following suit.
You turned to Coryo with a grin as you slipped off your sundress, leaving you in your cyan swimsuit. With a wink, you turned on your heel and ran for the water, diving in.
When you resurfaced, you were met with a splash of water and saw white hair emerging from the water.
You felt his hands creep up your back before you saw him, a smile gracing your face. He gripped your waist, pulling you into his chest as he kissed your head.
You sat in his embrace for a while, simply enjoying your time with the boy.
“Thank you for this,” He whispered into your hair. “I mean it.”
You turned around in his arms. “What do you mean?”
“For taking me out here, showing me your space. And taking me away from that god awful district.” He joked with a smile.
You laughed. “You’re right. It’s wretched. If it wasn’t for the Covey, I would’ve made a run for it a while ago.”
He stopped for a moment at your words, his eyebrows furrowing. “You would?”
You nodded. “Yes. I hate it here. The peacekeepers rounded us up a year or two ago. Killed my and Lucy Gray’s mama in the process. A lot more too.” You sighed, looking down at the water. “Before, it was so nice. We had our own family. Since we been here… It’s been a struggle, I’ll tell you that much.”
His hand came up to cup your cheek. “I’m sorry. I’ll make sure that’ll never happen again.”
“You can’t promise that, Coryo. And that’s okay.” You sadly smiled, taking his hand and kissing it before swimming to your family.
The white-haired boy stood still in the water, watching you swim away as he processed your words.
He’d prove you wrong.
He was sure of it.
After all, Snow lands on top, and he was surely taking you with him. No matter what.
#tbosas#coriolanus snow fluff#coryo snow#coriolanus snow x reader#coryolucy#the hunger games#coriolanus snow#coriolanus x reader#corio snow#coriolanus fanfiction#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#lucy gray baird#the covey
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omi and his girly little gf <3
he thinks you’re so PRECIOUS. when he first saw you walking across campus with your nails done, shorter than most of your friends, dressed well and in pink he couldn’t stop thinking about you. atsumu had to snap him back into the conversation. kiyoomi thought that you looked like a pretty princess.
when you two become friends and talk more, he’s a little more obvious about it. when you get your nails done or ask him if he likes a skirt you got he always compliments how well it suits you, that pink is your colour!!
if you’re black, and you add pink into your braids/ dreads/ locs/ twists he thinks you look like an absolute FAIRY!!! you come back from the salon [ he wanted to come see you. he swears he did. but you didn’t let him for the ‘surprise’ of it): ] his mouth curls into a smile and his dimples are on display, he gets up from his spot on the sofa and asks if he can touch them. he clears some of the hair from your face and he places a feathery kiss on your forehead , “it’s not fair, how pretty you are,” he says.
kiyoomi just loves when you have french tips. he loves it. especially when the base is a pale pink colour, and the tips are just a crisp white. he loves how it contrasts with his black rings as he holds your hand. his heart flutters when your little, neat palm can only wrap around a few of his fingers. he loves how your manicured thumb rubs against his battered knuckles - it makes him feel dizzy.
he loves when you wear skirts or get new ones, he always twirls you around like you two were slow dancing. he’ll chuckle along with you when you giggle, “i think this one’s my favorite now,” he said to you ; although he’s said that about all 7 of the skirts.
don’t you dare try to do anything when you’ve just gotten your nails done. laundry? he’ll help. you wanna make yourself smth to eat? nah, he’s got it. you wanna shower??? why????? he’ll just clean you🤞🏻🤞🏻. his big sister used to complain about having to do things with her nails on and he’d never let his sweet little princess do anything by herself ):
omi would absolutely let you do his makeup if you wanted to try a new makeup look. you sit him down, putting his bouncy curls in a little bun and then priming his face. his cheeks smush and squish as your small hands work on him gently. he can’t help the warmth in his chest when he feels that you’re making a conscious effort to be gentle when you’re soaping down his eyebrows or blending out the highlight. his favorite is when you put on mascara- the way your index finger tilts his chin upwards and you mutter a ,’ look up f’ me, kiyo’ in the most sugary sweet tone he’s ever heard. he replies with a simple , ‘ ‘kay’ that could never give away the butterflies in the pit of his belly.
lastly - he’s spoiling you ROTTEN. he’s got allll that athlete money for what???? you, obviously. you saw some pretty mary janes you wanna wear to work? done. you want new earrings? done. you want a necklace with his name on it? done. well, that part wasn’t a choice- but he’s still happy that you wanted it. if you two are out and you even say that something is cute , his immediate response is , “do you want it?” and he’s dead serious. even if it’s ridiculously over priced. if you’re someone who cries when they accept gifts i’m projecting i’m sorry consider his heart SHATTERED when he hears the break in your voice as you thank him. he’s coddling you, asking if you really hated the gift that much, but when you explain that it just overwhelms you he feels tears in his own eyes at how precious you truly are. his large hand caressing your head and the other rubbing gentle circles on your back, whispering to you that you deserve his gifts, his love, his patience because you give it back to him. you deserve to be a princess- his princess- forever</3333333
#sakusa kiyoomi#sakusa x reader#sakusa kiyoomi x reader#sakusa fluff#sakusa x reader fluff#sakusa x female reader#sakusa kiyoomi x female reader#sakusa kiyoomi drabble#sakusa kiyoomi domestic fluff#haikyuu!!#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x female reader#haikyuu x reader fluff#first female reader fic#shittinf my pants
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Alastor Redesign
Omg there’s like over 70 people following me – guys I'm o///O flattered and flabbergasted.
Anyway, onto today’s main event, Alastor. I hate Alastor’s og design, I hate his twig waist and his shoulder pads and the way you can’t see his antlers next to his ears, and his bow tie ugh viv please and his HAIR what even is that??? Not even mentioning that nothing about his design is really like a focal point. There’s no one thing that’s particularly interesting. At least before this he had that cathedral window looking cross on his undershirt that I found interesting. Nothing about his says he’s from the 1930’s other than dialogue.
I wanted him to be in greyscale because that’s the coolest aesthetic, and colored photos weren’t a thing until way after the 30s. Recently I saw jjk, and Jogo’s teeth threw me because at some points I thought he was just straight up toothless. But then when I started this design, that colored tooth look spoke to me. Initially his teeth were yellow to look gross like he never brushes them, but then I was like ‘ayo wait, he’s literally a cannibal’, thus his vibrant red teeth to really pop against his greyscale. Initially his undershirt was white, but I feel like that was too much contrast and white is typically innocence, so by instead having a deep red it shows he’s just straight up bloodthirsty underneath his formal appearance. I also considered it being black, but then he looked like a pastor, and I wasn’t too much of a fan of it. The idea of the red on his design is that it leads your eye down his design to take it all in, with his face being the focus. I gave him glasses because I like the way it obscures his eyes a bit and I imagine they do the anime thing where they glow and hide his eyes. I liked Viv’s idea of sinners having marks where they died, and I slicked his hair back to show it off very prominently. His antlers are larger, I gave him cute lil deer ears. Also, under his suit he is lowkey buff. I feel like a serial killer should at least look physically capable of taking someone down not whatever the fuck viv’s nasty twig men can do. Like, in that comic with the cute sheep girl, when Alastor goes demon mode his body looks so snappable I just wanna like grab his waist in my hands and break it like a twig. I also tried to keep his design simple as if this were for animation, I know pinstripes are complicated and so are antlers but other than that I tried to keep his design basic.
If I were to rewrite him based solely on the pilot, I honestly wouldn’t change a thing. Alastor is a decent character, his voice actor gives him life, the radio filter is cool, and nothing he did made me want to break my screen (ANGELDUST). The only thing I'd change would be his position in hell. Like, viv’s hell is so wack and I hate it, she’s got the princes, then the goetia and the overlords and then sinners and blah blah, it’s a lot to keep track of, not even mentioning the rings and circles thing. I think Alastor should have had dealings with hell as a human, maybe he routinely did sacrifices or something, and he made a deal with the archdemon Alastor and when he died like... uuhhhhhhh. Maybe through connections he’s gained more power? Idk, I just know I hate the idea of his dying and then having like the bestest most powerful demon powers despite not being hellborn. It’s got this mary sue stench. I’ll figure it out, maybe, who knows.
I’m not gonna start rewriting since there’s nothing to go off of and alter yet, so that’s gonna have to wait until the show actually drops before anything concrete happens lol.
Also the sheep girl is a sinner that reoccurs in the show now so sorry I don’t make the rules, you can’t give me a cute sheep girl and try to take her away, I’m gonna redesign her and shove her into the plot as someone looking for redemption at the hotel
#anti vivziepop#vivziepop critical#hazbin hotel redesign#hazbin hotel critical#hazbin hotel criticism#alastor the radio demon
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Do you think we are about to make a terrible mistake? | Zhong Chenle
pairing: chenle x f.reader
genre: besties to lovers | smut +18 MDNI
summary: chenle has been away for a while and you miss your best friend-- however, everything changes when you realise you might actually love him more than a friend
wc: 2.2k
warnings: mentions and use of alcohol, anxiety, consensual sex, unprotected sex (pls no), oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms-- lmk if I forgot anything
It’s 15 minutes past 11, where the fuck is he?
You already texted him twice. You called. The party had already started and your friends wondered if you would make it. Hell, you were wondering if you should just go on your own. But no– you promised you would get there together for old-time’s sake. It’s been a little over a year since Chenle moved out of the country, your days of embracing nothingness together are gone, movie nights are just nostalgic memories, and maybe some words left unspoken. You missed your best friend dearly and even though you often called each other, it was not the same. Not at all. You missed more than his company. You missed his essence, aura, sparkly eyes, smile, and touch…
Your heart suddenly ached. Were you truly in love or is it just the fact that this is the first time you will see him since he left? The thoughts that rudely invade your brain get interrupted by three loud knocks. Running to the door, you can feel the thundering beating of your heart ringing in your ears.
“I know I’m late, I’m sorry…. Please don’t be upset–”
You open the door abruptly and there he is.
Zhong Chenle.
Blue 3-piece suit. His hair graciously falls over his forehead, framing his beautiful face. He gives you the brightest of smiles, your heart skips a bit.
“Don’t hate me. Come here!” he opens his arms to embrace you.
“Shut up,” you throw your arms around him, and suddenly everything is fine. Time has not passed.
His nose lowers to your head and he inhales your scent. This is home to him, he can’t believe he’s been away from you for so long. All he yearns is to keep you close, but doing so means having to accept the fact that he is irremediably in love with you.
Smoke and bright lights danced around the place and the crowd made way for you and the man of the hour apparently. Everyone reaches out to Chenle. Hugs, high fives, praises, and kisses shower him. You can’t help but feel a tad bit jealous. This was supposed to be a fun night for you and your best friend… and your other friends as well. But Chenle is loved, popular, and missed, of course, people would be all over him. You feel silly for suggesting going to the party in the first place.
You’re snapped back to reality when your body crashes into Chenle’s. His hand is possessively placed around your waist. Your audible gasp makes him laugh.
“Where did your mind go, silly?”
“Nowhere, I just wish we were somewhere else. This is not how I envisioned tonight, you know… after spending so much time apart,” you force a smile and feel his thumb caressing you softly. There was something up with him, but to your surprise, you couldn’t read him.
Chenle closes the distance between you too. He's a little too close, his breath fanning on your face. Is he going to–
“Chenle!”
Shiny hair, plump lips, white smile. Her manicured hand was already snaking its way to Chenle’s arm. She looks at you, scanning up and down as if she were trying to figure out who you are.
“Oh, hey! Wh- what are you doing here?” Chenle replies. A kiss on her cheek makes your heart sink.
Chenle’s eyes go from you to the girl and again to you. He is about to introduce you but you suddenly feel like your heart is going to burst out your chest, your palms are sweaty, your eyes getting watery and your ability to breathe fades as you try to fight the feeling.
“I really need to go. Sorry– Nice to meet you,” you say politely. You try not to cry as you make your way out. Chenle watches as you leave, but he feels how his chest tightens more and more with each step you take away from him.
After his third call, you get into the shower hoping that the pain would fade away with the hot water hitting your vulnerable skin. With tears streaming down your face and sobs that echo around your bathroom you finish your shower. You are too exhausted to do anything else but sleep, and your phone has long been forgotten in your purse.
You think you just blinked but in reality, it is a little past 3 a.m. and the faintest sound coming from your door seems to wake you up. In a panic, you rush and open the door to find a sobering Chenle by your door.
“...it was about fucking time you opened that door, silly, I’ve been knocking for hours I thought–”
You cut him off, pulling him in.
“Chenle what the fuck?”
He smiles at your puzzled expression. His hair is a bit messy now, blue suit is wrinkled. You can’t help but wonder if anything happened with the girl in the club.
“I’ve been waiting for hours… I followed you back here but you locked the door. I called you so many times… ” he frowns.
You go to the kitchen and fetch him a water bottle. As he starts drinking it, you find his eyes searching yours… Sparks. No. No. This is your best friend Chenle. Nothing can ever happen between you and your best friend. The one who taught you how to ride a bike, tie your shoelaces, and give the best hugs ever.
“You look so pretty,” he finally says.
“Drink your water, Chenle,” you sigh.
“You do!” he insists.
“Who has she?” and you can’t believe the words that leave your mouth. You weren’t supposed to ask.
“We did a semester together abroad. She is a good classmate that’s all. I never meant to upset you– you are too important…”
You weren’t sure where the conversation was going, but Chenle assumed he talked too much. He puts the water bottle down and makes his way to you. Now you find yourself between your best friend and your bedroom door. The hard wooden surface against your back reminds you that once you cross that threshold with him, your relationship will change forever.
His hands touch your waist, not sure if he has permission to do so, but you welcome him as the drug you need. His lips inches from yours and you pray he will kiss you, but time stops. It’s really only you and him at last like you dreamt of so many restless nights.
“I’ve been wanting to ask you something since the moment I came back…”
“Yes?” your voice comes out as a breathless whisper.
“Can I kiss you?”
You can’t even wait to answer him when your lips are already on his. His tongue teases yours and your lips part. He tastes of expensive wine, lust, and love. Chenle moans into your mouth and that is it for you. You want every single inch of you to be consumed by him. You reach out to open the door to your room.
“Please,” you ask.
“How can I say no to you?” he smiles and kisses you once again.
Each second you spend kissing him you feel your skin getting hotter, desire coursing through your veins making you dizzy, and then you feel him carry you. Bride style, his lips never leaving yours. He carefully lowers you onto the bed, his hands now exploring your clothed body, the feeling of sparks under his fingertips making the moment intense, and urgent. Little moans and cries escape you both as Chenle helps you to straddle him. Your delicate fingers move his hair away from his face. The most beautiful man is underneath you, eyes on yours, lips parted. His chest rises and falls, you contemplate him for a moment. He takes your hands into his, everything seems surreal, you have spent countless times in this bedroom but not like this—a new territory.
“Do you think we are about to make a terrible mistake?” your voice is small, you may not want to know what he has to say.
He shakes his head. His hand reaches your cheek.
“Do you?”
Now you shake your head.
“Good. Then kiss me, silly, and don’t stop unless you don’t want to do this–” but you don’t let him finish his thought and your lips already found his.
It is then that you finally understand that he needs you as much as you need him. The pieces of clothing now are forgotten somewhere on your bedroom floor. Every part of you reacting to Chenle’s heavenly but sinful touch. His fingers finally take the only item of clothing left, your panties. He lowers himself, eye level with your wet cunt.
“So pretty,” he murmurs.
His tongue licks your entrance, ending in your clit which he sucks and your soul seems to leave your body as your back arches for him. Your hands immediately reach your breasts increasing the sinful pleasure coursing through you. You feel one of his fingers slide in you with almost no resistance. That’s how aroused you are for him. You gasp and your hips move, making the feeling of his hot mouth on your cunt even better. With his tongue flat on your slit, Chenle’s hands squeeze your thighs, encouraging you to use his face as you please. Only stopping to spit on your throbbing core, he eats you out so deliciously your soft moans turning louder. Legs over his shoulders now, he adds two curling fingers in you.
Again and again, he kicks your clit, his fingers working magic inside you, fogging your brain and heightening the urge to cum for him.
“Fuck! I– I’m–” you can’t think, you can’t speak… and so your orgasm hits you with such intensity you are shaking under him. Your legs turn to jelly. The heavy breathing that follows your cries echo in your ears. Chenle plants one last kiss on your clit and your legs close from the overstimulation.
He lets out a low-pitched chuckle and the vibration travels straight to your clit again.
“You okay?”
You look at him in between your legs. Did this just happen? Your head falls back once more to the pillow. An involuntary laugh escapes your lips. But Chenle knows you, sometimes better than he knows himself he thinks and to him, this moment is making his heart go a million miles an hour. What an honour to have you like this, all fucked out, and all for him.
Little kisses are planted on your thighs, on your lower stomach, your hands, your breasts, until he reaches your face. You giggle in response. His eyes meet yours, and different from what you thought, you are not embarrassed. You want him more than ever, so you kiss him.
“More than okay,” you finally replied.
Reaching south of his body you find his erection already leaking for you. You stroke it slowly, the faintest of moans leaving Chenle’s lips. This is the greatest reward you can get. His breath hitches as your pace gets faster.
“Aaahhh…” a long, whiny moan.
“You like that?”
He nods reassuring you.
You bring his hips lower, aligning his tip with your entrance. In anticipation, your eyes shut but immediately your jaw falls open when Chenle’s cock begins to stretch your needy cunt. Inch after inch, pleasure builds on pleasure and you silently pray the moment never ends when he starts moving in but not completely out of you. Your nails digging into his biceps, loving the way he stretches you out.
“Ch-chenle,”
“I know, I got you,” and he wraps one of your legs around his waist, making his thrusts deeper, his cock dragging against your walls that clench tightly around him.
“Feels so so good,” your hand goes to his head, grabbing a handful of hair and pulling slightly.
“Say. That. Again,” he moans.
“It feels so good”.
Chenle buries his face in the crook of your neck. Mild sharp pain fades into pleasure when he bites your skin, licking the now sensitive spot to ease the harsh sensation. You pull his hair once more, this time to make him kiss you. And he does, so lost in passion, so lost in you. The kiss is sloppy, messy, perfect. His thumb presses circles on your clit acting as the perfect trigger for your orgasm. You feel climbing higher and higher, his cock twitching inside you, his hot breath fanning on your face, his lips curving into a smile. Fuck, he is everything.
“Chenle! Fuck… ah!” you cum for him.
“Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes,” he repeats as a broken record as he pulls out and cums letting out a high-pitched moan that you will remember for the rest of your life.
Chenle kisses your face, your hands, and helps you clean up. However, you didn’t exchange a word then. Now, you find yourselves back in bed, still naked. His arm around your waist, your head on his chest. His heartbeat is a love poem itself.
“You know,” he breaks the silence. “I don’t ever want to say hello or leave without kissing you… I guess what I’m trying to say is–”
You kiss him. It’s a long kiss, your lips pressed against his. Everything feels just right like it’s meant to be.
“I really like you, Chenle,” you whisper, somewhat scared of what he will say back.
“I really really like you too, silly,” he smiles.
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a/n: this is pure ✨fiction✨
I hope enjoyed this :3 ~ masterlist
#kpop smut#kpop fanfic#kpop fics#zhong chenle#zhong chenle x reader#zhong chenle smut#chenle x reader#chenle smut#nct dream smut#nct dream x reader#nct scenarios#nct smut#nct dream imagines#nct dream scenarios#chenle imagines#nct dream fanfic#nct dream fanfiction#astayinwonderland
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i hate it when my brain functions differently when i'm in class, also, a snippet of a wip that's based on this brainrot
non-idol au . childhood friend!jake x afab!reader . R18 MINORS DNI!
a/n: this is suggestive. this isn't like me but this.. phew i need to breathe before writing more
before reading more, this fic is mixed with a religious theme and i'm so sorry bc this might just be straight blasphemy 🙇♀️ .
jake never knew what changed, you stayed nearly the same so there wasn’t much to highlight on you. jake never paid attention to you, he grew up with you and maybe that was enough to justify his distance. but was it? or maybe that became his favorite excuse to use when people keep asking why the two of you weren’t stuck together.
but what made him come up with excuses? what made him distant? what changed? – these were all the questions that pondered his mind. jake doesn’t have any answers despite this ‘operation: stay away from y/n’ has been going on for months. he just knew he had to have his distance when he felt himself getting hard around you.
it wasn’t hard. thanking your faith and focus in your religion to an extent where he started to attend church services again, but you were there. you were always there, and maybe his quick glances to your direction were enough to satisfy the torture he’s been putting himself through. but did he really have to go out of his way to attend your services when sunday was his only free day?
jake was a star in your university. people drool over him, they devour him and he indulges in it. you once joked he almost acted too similar to an incubus who feeds off the sexual energy from people, and he laughed and rebutted with “maybe that’s why you never felt anything sexual? is it? because i’m a, quote on quote, incubus?”
and ever since that day, jake could never put you out of his mind. you were devouring him unknowingly.
﹉﹉﹉
it was a sunday.
jake suited up, wearing his white long sleeve polo shirt that perfectly hugged his broad shoulders. he tucked it in his grey slacks, defining the inverted triangle shape he hides under sportswear and his uniform. it always felt like a sin to show up to the church subtly flexing every woman’s dream but does he still have any shame? when his mind defines lust when you show up in your dress that reminds a nun. you were always picked to pray for any services, requiring you to wear the white dress and veil the ‘baby nuns’ wear.
seeing you in it, jake always wanted to start a religion. a religion where you praise him, and devote to him the same way you devote to christianity. it wasn’t like him at all to have these sudden urges that just revolve around you, his life was soccer and academics– but you were becoming a part of it if you won’t stop whatever this is.
he was an hour earlier, just in time to watch you pray.
he wanted to defile you right then and there when you kneeled, your eyes closed, and your head perfectly angled as if you were doing this for the entirety of your life. he struggle to sit properly when you show no struggles in kneeling upright with your head bowed, and with the way the veil only shows a bit of your well-kept hair, jake knew he had to keep himself from acting out the events playing in his head.
he wasn’t even praying, all he did was fantasize about you.
a half of an hour passed, and he watched when you rose with ease. jake had his eyes fixated on you, it mesmerized him when you didn’t wince from kneeling that long and oh did he want you kneeling before him. he ached to see you be obedient when it wasn’t for him.
he wanted to shrug off these thoughts, maybe the praises were getting to him, but maybe it’s just you when these same thoughts never occur towards anyone else. he sinned again. you were his childhood friend, both of you grew up following the same religion, you were too religious and it would physically hurt him if he continue to think of you in that light but it just felt right.
“jake?” thank god then for your calming voice who snapped him out of the trance. “yes?” he replied, masking the lust he now clearly feels for you, “are you alright?” he was. he was alright before all these thoughts come to him, now he wasn’t. he watched how your lips rested in a pout, waiting for his answer with furrowed brows that show worry “of course, why wouldn’t i be?”
jake realised how he might have looked when fixating on you, not an ounce of guilt in his body as he chased a high.
“your brows were furrowed, it looked as if they’ll be sewn together.” you spoke with worry laced in your voice, you watched as he drew in a sharp breath. you figured he was just worried for the captain tryouts next week, so you nodded in understanding “ah! nevermind, you might be too worried for next week’s tryouts, but i’ll cheer you on jakey!”
and there it is.
even if you never tainted dirt, you were sultry. the way you said his childhood nickname felt as if it was the last straw, he had to get out of there. he had to get away from you. so he shamelessly used it as an excuse to leave, leaving you a pat on the head– “you’re right, you were always so bright my dove! i have to go, there’s an unscheduled practice today, be a good girl. for me, okay?“ and oblivious to the second meaning, you nodded your head.
“i’ve always been a good girl, for you and for the church.”
that left him hanging. it was true that you were always good, you were the epitome of an angel. some even call you that when you turn your back, you were always good. you were too innocent.
and it drives him insane how you agree to everything he says. it drives him insane how easy you comply to him. jake just wanted you, and if he wanted– you would already be in his bed but it all felt wrong when he caught sight of the pastor the two of you grew up with.
“i’ll go then. i’ll see you on wednesday, and wear the jersey i gave you, alright? that can be your way of cheering me on.” of course it was just another excuse to drive people away from you. he wanted you to wear it as it acted like a silent agreement, albeit one-sided, that you were only his to devour.
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Howdy! So when you see the movie, can you write a story of a fem reader and velvet, I know that this isn’t very specific, but I just need more fanfics about vels 😭
A/N ~ Of course! This was a lot of fun to write lol. I love Velvet.
~🎤Where’s My Hug?🎤~
Velvet x fem!Reader
Fandom: Trolls: Band Together
Reader: Female
Relationship: Romantic
Synopsis: Velvet’s “too cool” to admit that she likes your affection. Thinking that she didn’t like it, you stopped giving her so much, but that made Velvet upset.
Warnings: Reader and Velvet not properly communicating their feelings until the end, pretty cringe
(Sorry for the low quality pic lol)
Velvet is not a very affectionate person. She hates initiating hugs and kisses, so she lets you do it. She likes the attention, but doesn’t show it. She’s “too cool” for that. Since she shows no sign of enjoyment from your acts of affection, you decided to tone it down.
But Velvet didn’t like it. She secretly misses being greeted with a gentle hug, and maybe a peck on the cheek. But, of course, she’s not going to admit it. So instead, she’s just gonna be grouchy.
~~~~
As you were removing the plastic from the package of popcorn, your doorbell rang. You sprinted to answer it, knowing exactly who it was. As expected, when you opened the door, the green haired twins were on the other side of it.
You’ve known Velvet and Veneer for a long time. Veneer was your best friend, he always made you laugh. And Velvet was your girlfriend. You two had been dating for a few months now. Tonight, you guys were having a movie night. You insisted on watching your favorite movie. You found out the previous day that the twins had never seen it, and you didn’t think that was acceptable.
“Hey (Y/N)!” Greeted Veneer as he stepped inside, Velvet following suite.
“Hey Veneer!” You gave him a side hug.
Velvet rolled her eyes. Of course, she wasn’t gonna verbally admit that she was upset, but by looking at her face, it was clear as day.
She complained in her mind, thinking: “Where’s my hug?”
Any other thoughts were cut off by you gently grasping her hand.
“Hey, babe!”
She was caught off guard, making her face turn red. It wasn’t easy to miss on her paper-white complexion. She quickly turned her head, praying that you didn’t see.
“Hey.” She said, a mix of bashfulness and coldness in her voice.
~~~(Mini Time Skip)~~~
You were seated between the twins. Velvet on your right, and Veneer on your left. The movie had hit its climax, and the character that everyone else trusted had turned on them.
Veneer gasped loudly. “What!? How could they!” You laughed at his dramatic reaction. So typical of Veneer.
You started patting his shoulder, jokingly comforting him. Velvet sighed. It annoyed her so much that you were giving her brother more attention. She scoffed, and snatched the empty bowl out of your hands. “I’m gonna get more popcorn.” She said, the annoyance clear in her voice, and exited the room, shutting the door a bit too aggressively.
She startled you a bit. You wondered why she seemed so upset. Once her shadow disappeared from the gap under the door, you paused the movie, and turned to your left.
“Hey Veneer?”
“Yeah? Something wrong?” He responded, a bit concerned.
“Have you noticed that Velvet’s been a bit…. you know…. grouchy lately?”
Veneer rolled his eyes. “Girl, she’s my sister. Of course I’ve noticed.”
“Okay, so…. do you happen to know why?”
He scoffed. “Yes I know why! I thought it was obvious! It’s because you’re not giving her much love anymore, duh! Gosh, you can be so dense sometimes.” He rubbed his hand down his face at the last sentence, clearly done with your stupidity.
“Wait what? I thought she didn’t like it when I hugged or kissed her! She always looked so bothered.”
Veneer laughed tiredly. “It’s like she doesn’t even know her.” He mumbled loudly to himself as if you weren’t right next to him. “Lemme tell you something about my sister. She pretends not to like something, even though she really likes it. Need I remind you of your guy’s whole love story~~?” He said the last two words in a teasingly dreamy way, and twisted his arms to make the shape of a heart.
You looked back to before you and Velvet were dating. Veneer was right. She pretended not to like you, but in reality, she fell harder for you than you did for her. You felt like a complete idiot, and a terrible girlfriend.
“Oh my gosh, you’re right! I’m so stupid!” You dropped your face in your hands. Then, you felt Veneer’s hand on your back. Before he could say anything, though, the door opened, and Velvet came in with the previously empty bowl, now full of popcorn. As soon as she sat down, Veneer popped up.
“Oh boy, am I thirsty! I’ll be right back, I’m gonna get some water!” He said, before zipping to the door. His tone made it obvious that he was lying. He was never good at it. Before he was completely out of the room, he poked his head in, and gave you a wink.
After she heard the door close, Velvet turned to you. “What was that about?”
You let out a halfhearted chuckle, before taking a deep breath. “Hey Vels, I’m really sorry.”
Velvet was slightly started by the genuine apologetic look you gave her. “About….?”
“I thought you didn’t like hugs or kisses, so I stopped giving you them. I didn’t know that it would bother you so much. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”
Velvet sighed with a hint of relief. “Just…. don’t do it again.” She crossed her arms, turning away as she, once again, began blushing. But this time, you noticed. You smiled, and gave her the tightest hug.
“I won’t. But we should get better at communicating with each other. We don’t want something like this to happen again.”
Velvet let out a loud “Uuuugh.” Before responding.
“Fine.”
You laughed, before grabbing her face, and pulling her in for a kiss. One that Velvet, for once, reciprocated.
~~~🎤~~~🎤~~~🎤~~~🎤~~~
~~baileypie-writes
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Oooh how about nerd!miguel who gets so nervous when you come to his dorm for the first time? (maybe you forgot something and went there to pick it up) like he’d be eyeing you sitting on his bed but trying not to make it obvious ☺️
I definitely cannnn, I made this a bit more spicy than maybe you intended, and I had it be the second time y/n is at Miguel's apartment for plot reasons, but I hope you like it anyways!!!!
Door Frames and Doorways
Artist cred: twitter jammunin
Miguel’s apartment complex is nice, like really nice. Four gates, elevators, 24-hour security, and you’re pretty sure you saw at least six Ferraris in the parking garage.
You punch in the code and wait until the gate opens, your phone in one hand while you walk, scanning the garage for the elevators. Once inside, you press the button for Miguel’s floor, and lean against the mirrored walls, watching the numbers climb. It’s fancy, more like a hotel elevator than an apartment. Finally, the doors ding and slide open, you step out onto plush carpet, the hall leading to his door is pristine, artwork—hotel style artwork—on the walls, everyone’s doors are decorated with name plates and their apartment number.
O’Hara 2099, Miguel’s nameplate reads, and you knock quietly. It is getting late, and you’d hate to disturb any of the other residents, but you really need your planner.
You wait a second, then knock again, nothing. You go to text Miguel, then the door swings open.
You’re greeted by Gabriel clad in the most typical college boy pajamas you’ve ever seen, red gingham pants and a white muscle shirt, his smile wide, and his eyebrows wriggling cartoonishly. “Well y/n, fancy seeing you here.”
“Hey Gabriel, I left my planner here yesterday, Miguel said I could come by and grab it?” You ask, looking past him for Miguel.
It’s not that you don’t like Gabriel, he’s friendly, sociable, funny, popular but not a dick, and he’s Miguel’s brother so he shares similar features, so he’s definitely not ugly. But he smells like weed, and as much as a small part of you wants to ask if you can take a hit—school has been a bitch, you need a break—you don’t know him like that. Plus, it’s late, and you still have to drive back to your own apartment.
The living room is empty behind him, the TV on, casting dim colors across the floor, the balcony doors open letting in the cool night air, and most likely the smell of weed out.
He opens the door wider, “of course, come in. Miguel’s in his room, did you text him?”
“No, I was going to, but then you opened the door, so.” You follow him in, and he shuts the door behind you. “I was already home when I realized I left it, I’m sorry to barge in on you guys’ night like this.”
“Don’t even worry about it.” He walks into the living room, where you can see a blunt resting in a novelty ashtray. You’re not totally sure, but it looks like a spider. “You want a hit?” He offers you the blunt, that tangy, almost sweet smell hits your nose, and you feel like a nicotine addict feigning for a cigarette, the way you take a half step forward, hand outstretched.
“I shouldn’t…” You tell yourself, and Gabriel, but really yourself.
Gabriel shrugs, “suit yourself. Yo Miguelito, y/n’s here.” He calls out, flopping onto the expensive looking leather couch and taking a deep inhale, holding it, then blowing the smoke out towards the open balcony doors.
There’s a heavy thud, then the jiggle of a door handle, and Miguel’s door bursts open. He looks…out of breath? His hair is tousled, his t-shirt half on, hem riding up, exposing his toned abdomen, his sweatpants sitting low on his hips. “Shit, y/n, I didn’t see your text.”
“She didn’t text you; I heard her knocking.” Gabriel says through a cloud of smoke.
“Well—um—your planner is in here, on my desk, I can grab it for you?” Miguel stutters out, running a hand through his hair, his glasses askew.
“I can get it myself, it’s no big deal.” You reassure him, slipping through the space between him and the door frame.
You’ve been in Miguel’s room before, literally yesterday, but you’re still amazed at how clean it is. His bed set against the far wall, framed photos of his family, awards, and scholarships up on the other. His bathroom door is ajar, and his desk light is off, your planner sitting in the very center of the huge desk with its multiple monitors.
There’s a candle lit, sitting atop his wardrobe, the scent of evergreen drifting through the room, and you detect a more musky undertone, but don’t let the thought linger.
You cross the wide expanse of plush carpet and grab your planner, holding it to your chest. “Thank you so much for finding it, I was freaking out thinking I lost it somewhere on campus.”
He nods his head, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the door frame. “It’s no problem, I know you live and die by that thing.”
“Not all of us can keep a perfect schedule in our heads, Miguel.” You tease, sweeping your eyes around his room.
There’s a decorative pillow on the floor, beside his bed, and without thinking you bend over and grab it, before getting onto his bed and crawling forward placing it back in its rightful place.
Miguel sucks in a sharp breath, and you turn to look at him. His pupils are dilated, his face is flushed, and he keeps shifting his weight, unable to meet your eyes.
“You okay?” You ask, getting off his bed and placing a hand against his forehead.
“Y-Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” He says, taking a quick step back and bumping into the wall.
You laugh, finally connecting the dots. “Miguel, are you high?”
He blinks at you, then nods slowly. “Yeah, yeah, sorry, I don’t do it often, Gabri just brought it out, and I only started because my ex wanted me to, but now I only smoke with Gabri I sw—”
Squeezing his shoulder playfully, you look up at him, still laughing a bit. “Miguel, it’s cool, I smoke sometimes, with my sister Kenzie, I’m not judging you.” You explain, giving him a teasing smile, your hand instinctively sliding down to rest above his heart as your laughter dies down. “Look at you, Mr. Genetics Genius partaking of the devil’s lettuce on the weekend, it’s kinda hot.”
Did you really just say that? Why did you say that? What the fuck y/n?? Are you high???
“R-Really?” Miguel asks, his lips, his stupidly plush and perfect lips, parted in surprise.
“Yeah, it’s like a thing, the good boy with a secret dark side. Not that I’d call smoking weed a dark side, but still. I’m a little bummed, though, looks like someone else corrupted my good boy before I could.” You say, a faux pout on your lips.
You’re so glad Miguel can’t hear your heartbeat because you’re pretty sure it’s trying to bust out of your chest.
“Dígalo de nuevo.” Trsl: Say it again.
You tilt your head at him. “What?”
“Say it again, please.” He whispers, his pupil blown wide, his hands hovering over your hips.
“Say what? That I’m bummed someone else corrupted you?” You’re starting to feel self-conscious, doubt trickling in, but you try to push it to the side and loop your arms around Miguel’s neck, fingers threading in his thick locks. “That I’m upset someone else got to my good boy first?”
Miguel lets out a sound akin to a whimper, and heat rushes through you. You’re suddenly aware of just how close to him you are. You’ve practically got him pinned to the wall, and he looks so good, you just want to—
His hands clamp down on your hips, dragging you forward. “Soy tuyo y/n, tu buen chico, tuyo, tuyo, tuyo." Trsl: I’m yours y/n, your good boy, yours, yours, yours.
His words and lips ghost over your own, and you dig your fingers into his shirt, eyes fluttering shut.
“Tuyo?” You ask, head spinning, the scent of Miguel overwhelming your senses, driving every rational thought from your brain.
“Sí, eres mío, dulzura.” He breathes, his voice low, vibrating in your bones, intertwining with your synapses, and filling you with liquid heat. Trsl: Yes, you’re mine, sweetheart, sweetness, darling, etc.
You’re going to do it, you can’t wait any longer, the words are brimming at your lips, waiting to spill over. “Miguel, please, kiss m—”
“Yo, you find that planner or do you guys need help looking?” Gabriel’s voice cuts through the tension, and you all but fling yourself back.
“No—no, we found it, we’re good, thanks.” You call back, too embarrassed to even spare Miguel a glance as you rush out of his apartment, planner pressed to your chest to hide your rapid breathing.
It’s not until you’re halfway home, you realize you didn’t smell any weed on Miguel, but you definitely saw the lotion bottle that had been kicked under his bed.
Miguel’s version here👀👀
TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan, @scaryplanetdestroyer
#meg's writing#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel ohara x reader#nerd miguel#nerd!miguel#nerd!miguel o'hara#college!miguel#college!reader#sorority!reader#THE TENSION#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel ohara x you#miguel ohara x y/n
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Glass Shoes
Jason Todd x Male Reader
Warnings: None
Prequel to The Socialite and The Vigilante | Masterlist
Summary: Your mother Silver St. Cloud introduces you to her boyfriend’s sons Dick and Jason…
(A/n: Sorry if i’m posting a lot of this but i’m having fun :)…)
——
”Where are we going? I thought we were eating dinner with your boyfriend” you asked looking out the window of the car not recognising the area it was driving through. ”We are but me and Bruce decided it was time you and his sons get to meet, so he invited us for dinner at his house” your mother explained.
The car stopped at a gate, your mom pressed a buzzer and soon the gates opened and your mom drove up the long driveway stopping in front of the immense garndeur Wayne manor. Making you question ”Is this what you call house now? Mom, i think dating a billionare is starting to get to you”.
Your mom chuckled and ignored your statement. The two of you got out of the car and she led you towards the front door. You tugged a bit at the uncomfortable collar of the button up your mom had made you wear to make ”a good first impression”.
Your mom rang the doorbell and soon it opened revealing your mom’s boyfriend, Bruce Wayne, ”Silver” he greeted and pulled her in to a hug giving her a quick kiss on the lips. His attention then turned to you and he greeted ”Hi Y/n, how are you?”.
”I’m good but i hate this shirt, it’s itchy” you answered. Bruce smiled and said charmingly ”I promise you won’t have to wear it for your future visits but can you stick it our for tonight?”. ”Okay” you replied as you adjusted the collar again.
Bruce then led the two of you inside, showing you where to hang your jackets. He then led you towards the dining room. The manor was as fancy as it looked from the outside with a very luxurious interior, it had everything from paintings, chandeliers and statues.
You then came to the dining room, it had a high ceiling with a big chandelier that hung over a long dining table decorated with a smooth white table cloth and silver candleabras. As you entered two people were stood waiting for you, it was Bruce’s sons.
If you remembered correctly from what your mother had told you one was named Richard but usually just went by Dick and the other was named Jason. They were both dressed up as well. Dick, the older of the two was tall and handsome, he wore a fancy dark grey suit with a dark blue tie.
Jason was a year or two older than you but even for his age he was quite bulky, he was dressed similar to you, a button up covered by a sweater and dress pants. ”Silver, Y/n, these are my sons, Dick and Jason” he introduced.
Dick was the first one to come over to greet your mother, he shook her hand with a smile and said ”It’s really nice to finally meet you Silver, we’ve heard a lot about you”. He then turned to you with his shining smile and held out his hand.
You took it and he introduced himself in a friendly tone ”Hi Y/n, it’s really nice to meet you, i’m Richard but you can call me Dick if you want to”. ”Hi Dick, it’s really nice to meet you too” you greeted trying to match his positive energy. Then it was Jason’s turn, he approached slightly more drawn back, not as big of a smile as Dick.
”Hey Silver, nice to meet you” he said simply as he shook her hand, he seemed less formal than Dick but not in a way that would be considered rude but in a way that seemed more grounded. When he turned to you his smile got a bit more boyish and relaxed.
You shook hands and he greeted ”Really nice to meet you, Y/n”. ”You too” you answered. The five of you then moved and sat down at the dining table, you and your mom on the left side, Jason and Dick on the right and Bruce at the head of the table.
Soon dinner was served by their butler named Alfred and he had not held back on his cooking for the dinner. The main dishes, the side dishes, even the bread and butter tasted like heaven. Once he finished serving he sat down across from Bruce and joined the dinner.
Most of dinner was spent with your mother asking Dick and Jason questions in an attempt to get to know them better and Bruce and Dick doing the same to you. Dick told several fun stories when asked questions and was good at keeping the conversation going. Jason wasn’t as talkative as his brother and kept his answers short.
Bruce asked you all the regular ”mom’s new boyfriend” questions, where you go to school, what you like doing in your free time, if you liked sports, in that case what kind?…
Overall it was a very nice dinner, once you finished Dick turned to you and asked ”Hey Y/n would you like me to show you round the manor?”. ”Yeah” you said excitedly and the two of you got out of your seats. Dick turned to Jason and asked ”You wanna come?”.
”Sure” Jason said, probably going for the sake of not being left alone with all the adults where he’d be forced to make conversation. It was very hard to tell how long the tour was, the manor was so big and felt almost neverending.
Later in the evening it became time for you and your mother to leave, you both said goodbye to Dick, Jason and Alfred. Bruce then walked you and your mom out to her car. ”That all went pretty well wouldn’t you say” he commented.
”Agreed” she said. Bruce then turned to you saying ”It was really nice seeing you again Y/n, i hope you liked the manor” giving you a light pat on the shoulder. ”Yeah, it’s really cool, thanks for having us” you said politely.
You mother unlocked the car with her keys and you said a goodbye to Bruce and opened the door and sat down next to the driver’s seat, you could see your mom and Bruce give each other a passionate goodbye kiss in the rearview mirror.
You looked away in childlike disgust at scene. Your mom sat down in the drivers seat and immediately turned to you asking ”So… what did you think?” as she started the car. ”They seemed very nice, i hope we can come back sometime, Dick promised he’ll show me how to do a cartwheel” you said.
”That’s good, it felt important you guys finally got to meet, since me and Bruce have been dating for a while now” she stated as she drove down the driveway. Little did you know you would be back quite soon…
——
The next time you saw the manor it felt more intimidating, it was your new home…
Your mom and Bruce had decided to move in together. So you were now unloading the moving truck of boxes containing your and your mothers belongings and bringing them into Wayne Manor. Bruce, Jason and Alfred helped you and your mother carry everything inside.
The room you got in the manor was much bigger than your room in your mom’s old apartment, and that was already pretty big. You didn’t even know what to do with this much space. It took a while to getting used to living in the manor. The sheer size of it made it feel like you were living in a maze of hallways and rooms.
Having a butler that seemed to know everything you needed before you knew yourself also took some getting used to. If ever you felt hungry and were on your way down to the kitchen to make a snack Alfred was already there making you a sandwich and a cup of hot chocolate.
But Bruce and Alfred were both good company and tried their best to take time off their schedule to spend with you. Alfred would even help you out with your homework whenever you needed it.
Jason wasn’t as happy with you and your mom moving in, you assumed he thought it was to early in Bruce’s and your mom’s relationship for something so major. Though beyond your knowledge it was actually because he thought the two of you would be distracting and get in the way of his and Bruce’s mission as Batman and Robin.
Despite you and your mom being unaware of their secret you both noticed something was off. They’d be nowhere to found for a full day and then suddenly appear in the manor as if nothing happened. You assumed the manor was just big enough for you to completely miss their presence at home.
Despite his hesitance Jason still enjoyed your company and the two of you would spend a lot of time together, whether it’d watching movies, playing videogames or studying. You were often found cuddled up together with a bunch of blankets in the living room having movie marathons.
Dick would occasionally come visit from Blüdhaven, when he had the time. He’d take you and Jason out to fun things like taking you to a amusement park or events and parades held in town.
A couple months after you were fully settled in to life at the manor your mom and Bruce announced during a dinner that they were now engaged. Meaning Bruce would become your step-dad and Dick and Jason would become your stepbrothers. And Alfred… well he would still be your butler but now it would feel more official.
——
Though only a couple of weeks later your mom would come in to your room, late in the evening with news. ”Hey mom, what’s up?” you said as you exited your bathroom having just bushed your teeth. ”Come sit” she would say softly sitting down at the edge of the bed, patting the spot beside her.
You’d do as told and sit down next to her, she had a sad smile on her face as she grabbed your hand and said slowly ”Me and Bruce have decided to break off our engagement”. The revelation left you in a stunned silence for a couple seconds before you uttered a confused ”Wh-What? Why?”.
”We realised it just wouldn’t work out between the two of us in the end, i’m sorry Y/n i know this meant a lot to you too” she said putting a hand around your shoulder pulling you in to a hug. You hugged her back and said ”It’s okay mom, i just want you to be happy”.
”We’ll start packing our things in a couple of days, make sure you get some rest now, goodnight” she’d say leaving you to get some sleep but the bombshell she had dropped kept you up that night.
Soon a small creak came from your door making you sit up in your bed and look at the intruder, it was Jason. ”Hey” he whispered. ”Hey, you couldn’t sleep either?” You asked quietly. He shook his head. ”Come here” you said making room for him on your bed.
He sat down on your bed, slipping in under the covers. ”I’m gonna miss living here with you, Bruce and Alfred” you told him. ”We’ll miss having you and your mom here too” Jason said wrapping an arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to him in a side hug.
”Look just because we don’t live together it dosen’t mean we’ll never see each other again” Jason said comfortingly. ”Yeah, i know but i was excited to have you as my older brother” you told him.
”Don’t worry St. Cloud, i’ve always got your back either way” he said making you smile despite your bad mood. ”Can you stay here tonight?” you asked him. ”Yeah” he said and two of you laid down in the bed cuddled together until you eventually fell asleep…
——
In the coming weeks you and Jason would go your seperate ways and not see each other for a long time. You’d attend a fancy academy in Europe and Jason would continue his work as Robin until he was killed at the hands of the Joker. However he would later be resurected and return as the Red Hood.
Little did the two of you expect that you would run in to each other at a gala many years later…
#jason todd x male reader#jason todd x male!reader#red hood x male reader#red hood x male!reader#dc comics x male reader#dc x male reader#batfam x male reader#batfamily x male reader#batfam x male!reader#x male reader#male reader#x male!reader#batboys x male reader
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— ✧ idubilu
pairing. xu minghao x reader
description. obligatory company dinners are never much fun, but you understand that your husband has to go through with them at the end of each month anyways. luckily, he knows just how to make it up to you once you two get home.
genre. smut (18+ / mdni) tags under the cut, ceo & husband minghao, fluff
w/c. 2.8k
a/n. yk i don’t rly like pwp but i needed to pay homage to the idubilu choreo. that's it.
✘ tags. oral (f receiving), petnames (princess, pretty), they're just rly horny 4 each other lol, reader wears a suit and she is SEXY!
✘ taglist. @synthetickitsune @ixayjun @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @ming-h0e @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @marzmeltdown @todorokiskitten @98-0603 @hipsdofangirl @nikkixpenguin @minnie-mouser22 @minhui896 @whippedforjihoon @yunjinified @nishloves @woozarts @ellesmoon @blurryriki @maknae00 @jjjzzzz @marzmeltdown @peachyaeger @shoulietaro (strikethrough could not be tagged) join my taglist here!
A tight lipped smile is the only thing you’re wearing tonight. Well, that and a stiff pair of dress pants and button up shirt; usually you opt for wearing dresses to these sorts of things, but the one you’d picked out earlier was itchy in all the worst spots and really, you couldn’t bother to choose another one so you settled for this suit. It’s definitely more comfortable, but your feet still ache in the confines of your heels as you wrap your fingers around the cool glass of champagne.
Your husband is in the corner of your vision, talking to some associate as you stand by the buffet table, as you contemplate if you even have the stomach to eat anything right now. You’re overreacting—you know you are—but after long hours at work and an even longer hours trying to clean up the mess your cat had made at home, you’re not the least bit thrilled to spend your evening hours (the ones you usually spend curled up by Minghao’s side) here.
The champagne fizzles out on your tongue when you take a sip, sighing as you lean against the wall. You want to leave, that much is obvious. Minghao can sense it from across the room—the way your arms are crossed over your chest and you look down at your shoes, only glancing up to flicker your eyes at him and then the clock.
“45 more minutes,” you mutter to yourself when he finally excuses himself and walks over with a plate of food in his hands.
“I’m sorry,” is the first thing he says lowly when he’s finally within ear shot. “I know you hate coming to these.”
You let your shoulders deflate a little when you hear the sincerity in your voice, reminding yourself that this is your husband. “No it’s … it’s fine, these shoes just hurt,” you tell him honestly, shifting your weight from leg to leg as Minghao hands you his plate.
“Sit down and eat. I’ll wrap this up in half an hour and then we can leave.” You frown, taking the plate from his hands. “And remind me to get you new shoes if these ones suck—you know I hate seeing you in pain.”
You roll your eyes as he follows you to the nearest empty table in the hall. “Simp,” you tease, slipping into a seat and begrudgingly stuffing your face with one of the hor d’oeuvres.
“Whatever you say princess,” he sighs, stepping back. “I’ll be back in a bit, and then we’ll get going, ‘kay?” You nod and he walks off with a final wave, just as bored as before but a little less bitter. After all, Minghao’s sweet words and kind promises always leave a warm feeling budding in your heart.
Still, the next thirty minutes are long. You watch him not too discreetly now, getting lost in yourself as the night progresses. Minghao has long ditches his black coat, and is instead donned in a simple set of black pants and white shirt, nearly perfectly matching you. It’s a kind thought that occupies your mind for the remainder of your time—the fact that you and Minghao match each other perfectly.
You’re left with you and your thoughts, and although it’s a long wait, relief waves over your form when you hear Minghao thank everyone for coming. You make your way to his side while he does so, his arm secured around your waist as the two of you bow and wave everyone out as they shuffle out the room until it’s just the two of you left.
“Oh god, I thought I’d never get to take these off,” you huff, sitting on one of the round tables once everyone’s gone, slipping the tight heels over your sore feet. Your husband watches you sympathetically as he tucks his phone back into his pocket, workers making their way into the hall to clean up.
“I told you, we can go get new ones. Let’s go home now though,” he says, holding a hand out as you reach down to pick up your shoes. Minghao scrunches his nose up when you put your bare feet on the ground. “Ew. Don’t do that!”
You frown. “Why not! My feet hurt and I don’t care if it’s dirty—I can’t stand it anymore!”
Minghao sighs and shakes his head, and for a moment you think you’ve won this battle but then he’s turning around and tapping at his back. “C’mon, let’s go.”
“I am not g—”
Minghao shoots you a warning look, and you suddenly realize you’re too exhausted to care that much anyways. “I’ll give you a treat.”
Your tummy tumbles, and you’re glad he’s turned away so he can’t see the shit eating grin that creeps onto your lips. You don’t exactly understand what Minghao means by a treat as you climb onto his back, but when he secures his arms under your legs, you learn that you don’t need to.
You trust Minghao, more than anyone if you’re being honest, so as you curl your face into his neck as he carries you out of the company building and to the car, finally driving you home, you sit and smile because you know whatever he’s going to give you, you’re going to love it just as you love him.
So yeah, you’re not exactly surprised when Minghao pushes you onto the soft covers of the bed as soon as you enter your house, but then again, you’re not complaining either.
“You look really sexy in a suit,” Minghao murmurs, climbing on top of you as his fingers find his way up your pants and by its waistband.
“You don’t like it when I wear dresses?” you muse, shuffling up onto your elbows so you can lift your hips, Minghao yanking your pants down as you do.
“I do,” he says casually, sitting back on his heels as you kick the pants off and onto the ground, leaving your legs bare as Minghao settles between them. Slowly, he runs his fingers over them, the ghost of a touch as he traces over the inside of your thighs, circles around your knees, and smooths over your shins before finally curling them around your ankles.
You grow limp under him, letting his strong arms lift your legs up high as he runs his soft lips over the flesh of your calves. He whispers into your skin, the hot breath sending a ripple of shivers coursing through you. “Dresses are nice … but suits … fu-u-uck,” he draws out, placing open mouthed kisses down the inside of your legs.
You whimper when he shuffles down the bed and presses his face between your thighs, lips moving rougher and more fervent as he nips and lips at the skin. Minghao wants to drown himself in you—wants you to be the only thing he can taste on his tongue, wants you to be the only thing he can smell as he buries himself in the beauty between your legs.
“Fuck,” he groans, peeling himself away for a moment to stare down at you—your shirt is half unbuttoned, revealing the peek of your cleavage, and your lips are puffy, eyes blown out and hair all strewn as you await for more.
There aren’t words exchanged as Minghao starts to tug at his tie that’s starting to feel all too tight, the silk fabric tumbling between his deft fingers as he pulls it to the side and lets it fall onto the bed. He’s working through but buttons next, starting by the collar and working his way down, and you find yourself growing lost into sight of him.
From the way his adam’s apple bounces and jaw clenches when you whimper, to the way his shirt falls from his shoulders and leaves his pretty chest on display—you’re fucking entranced. Minghao rolls his neck back once, flashing you a hint of his chiseled jawline before craning his head back down and sucking your lips into a deep kiss.
His hands smooth under your shirt and press against your stomach as you grip at his firm shoulders as he mumbles against your lips, “Lemme eat you out.” God, the way he says it is so crude and so dirty, but fuck, if it doesn’t have you nuzzling your nose into his and nodding as your eyes flutter shut …
Minghao moves slowly, and it’s around now that you’d usually start to get impatient; you’d start to whine and squirm, chanting his name in hopes to get him to speed it up. Something in the air is different tonight, and as you close your eyes, you bask in the feeling of his body moving down yours.
You drink in the sounds of his soft pants and echoes of his mouth sucking against your exposed skin. Minghao is meticulous—he always is. It’s how he rose to the top in practically everything he did, and it’s how he’s making you crumble beneath his palms right now.
Your limbs move together in tandem, like you were both built for each other and each other only, bodies intertwining in a heated yet perfect mess as Minghao wraps his arms under your thighs and over your hips when you pull your soiled panties off. He’s done this more times than you can count, but not once has not left you in awe when he licks the first fat stripe.
Minghao knows you well—so, so well—better than yourself, you would add with no hesitation. He knows how to make you smile, knows how to make you laugh, knows how to make you writhe beneath him.
When his tongue delves between your folds and he sucks against the sensitive flesh, Minghao knows exactly what he’s doing. You glance down, finally parting your eyes, and are met with the sight of Minghao’s own heavy lids, and your stomach churns in the realization that he truly is enjoying this as much as you are.
Moans break free from your throat as he slides his tongue up and down, flicking against your clit and making out against your gaping cunt. The words on your tongue come out in a mangled mess, and Minghao can’t really understand what you’re saying, but then again, he doesn’t need to because he loves it.
Loves the way you’re whining from just a few subtle movements, loves how you chant his name like it’s the only word you know—fuck, Minghao loves everything goddamn thing about you and it’s driving him fucking crazy.
Minghao watches you grind upwards to meet the pace of his tongue and lips—it’s perfect. “The best,” he groans, parting his lips from your cunt for a moment so you can hear him better, although he’s not sure you’re even paying attention.
Your neck is thrown back and one hand is threaded through his hair, the other gripping at one of your exposed tits as white noise rushes through your ears. “Could live here,” Minghao says, not really to you but more to himself as he gazes down at your shiny folds before diving back in.
You, you, you, is all Minghao can think, and as he snakes one hand up your stomach, gripping at your other unattended breast, fingers flexing and clenching around the bouncy flesh. “Oh—Hao!” you whine out when he pinches your nipple. It’s not rough or harsh, but you’re so sensitive all over that even the brush of his hair against your skin has you jerking into his touch.
The cry of his name only eggs him on, and Minghao finds his eyes shutting tight as digs his face deeper and deeper into your slobbering core. Through the sucking, through the lapping, through the borderline making out with your cunt, Minghao starts to talk.
He tells you how good you taste, how pretty you sound, how fucking hard he is—his princess, that’s what he calls you. His pretty, pretty princess. Minghao doesn’t even know if you can hear him, but he also knows it doesn’t matter.
You’ll understand.
Minghao knows you’ll understand because everytime you moan his name, his hold on your tits tightens and his lips move with more and more vigor until you’re pulsing—fuck, he hasn’t even stuck anything in yet and you’re already being driven damn close to insanity.
It comes out in broken sobs—“‘m gonna cum, H-H-Hao! ‘m g’na—fuck!”
And he responds with equal passion, mutter into your wetness to, “Do it—fucking do it.”
Minghao devours you through the high that permeates your body, and you feel he might as well swallow you whole with the way his hands are all over you and the way you’re tugging at his hair (it’s painful, but Minghao concludes that this is the best kind of pain).
And then he’s kissing you, your sweet arousal mixing in a mess of both of your saliva as your tongues clash together. Your cheeks are wet as they press against each other and there you two are, rolling around on the sheets until your head is spinning, partly from the buzz of your orgasm but mainly from the pure passion that surges through your blood.
Your hands are in his hair, on his chest, sinking into his back, fumbling with his pants—they’re everywhere because, fuck, you just need to feel him. Minghao is no different because he’s also everywhere—unclipping your bra but still keeping your shirt on, sliding his hands over your tits and pressing against your neck, grinding into you as you shove his pants and boxers down.
You’re on top of him when he’s finally kicked his pants off, grinding down on the massive hard-on he’s wearing, swiveling your hips as he grips onto your tits as if they were a lifeline. “Put it in pretty,” Minghao moans, tweaking one nipple between his fingers as he uses his other hand to tap his thick, leaking cock against the base of your stomach.
He doesn’t need to tell you twice, and you’re pressing forward and lifting your hips. Again, Minghao knows you well. So well that it hardly takes him a second to find your dripping hole, aligning himself with you before jutting upwards.
You cry out at the sensation, sinking down on him almost immediately as your lips meet for another fervent kiss. It’s maddening, really, the way your clit rubs against his pelvis as you carefully rock your hips forward once you get adjusted to his side.
You moan into each other’s mouths and drink up the pleasure because that’s all you two know—in this moment, it’s only you and Minghao.
It’ll only ever be you and Minghao, because no one’s gonna be able to carve the shape of their cock into you like he’s doing so well right now. No one’s gonna lift their hips and swivel right back down, sucking him in and clenching him so tight like you’re doing so well right now. No one’s gonna ever share a moment like the two of you do right now, and as Minghao paws at your waist and threads his fingers into your hair, you both don’t need to say it, but you know.
Skin against skin echoes in symphony with your broken gasps and choked sobs as you begin to bounce over Minghao. He’s got you in a grip like a vise as he murmurs, “Princess—fuck, my pretty princess—feels s’good,” he slurs, to which you can only furrow your brows in pleasure and nod dumbly. You feel like you’re on fire, sweat all over as you chew down on your lip, trying to shake off the soaked dress shirt, but Minghao stops you with a firm hand on your arm.
“Keep it on pretty,” he whines, “Please.”
Something about the desperation in his voice has your heart strings strumming, and let your hand fall back onto him, shifting so his cock hits even deep inside of you. Your squeezing is more than he can handle, and Minghao wraps his arms around your waist and holds you close, lips ghosting over your neck and teeth sinking into your skin.
Through mangled whispers and hot skin, tangled limbs and melting lips, you two move through sheets languidly. For how long, you can’t say, but when you two reach your peaks together, it’s with words of love pushed through gritted teeth hard kisses.You two probably won’t be able to understand what the other is saying, but that’s okay because you don’t need to. You’ll know and Minghao will know—I love you.
#minghao x reader#minghao smut#xu minghao x reader#xu minghao smut#svt smut#seventeen smut#📝 writing
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soft release
summary: steven got a little rough with this one
pairing: steven grant x male reader
word count: 1.5k
warnings: 18+ warning, s3x, top!steven, rough stuff, nods to comic steven, maybe ooc idk
a/n: based on this request.
masterlist | more moon knight
His silence was deafening, all you could hear was the sound of the car speeding through the streets of London. His hands gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned white. Your hands were cold and clammy.
You were on the way home from a gala with your partner, famous museum curator, Steven Grant of the National Art Gallery. The gala featured new historical findings from a site in Egypt funded by the Grant Foundation.
There were at least fifty people in the museum. Everyone was clad in pristine clothing, gowns, and expensive suits drinking equally expensive champagne. You came as Steven’s partner, a surprise to a lot of his colleagues. He wore a dark pinstripe tuxedo with the brightest white tie, his shoes were polished so bright it shone under the moonlight.
He made you wear a similarly luxurious midnight blue tuxedo that complemented his. He introduced you to the other curators in Europe. You tried not to get bored but it definitely was. Steven said he hated it himself. You anxiously downed a few glasses of champagne, which you eventually regretted.
He was still silent when you arrived at the manor, removing his coat and his tie. He looked at you with his sunken eyes, a glare you would only see from Marc but you knew it was still Steven. He licked his lips and let out a sigh.
“If this is about earlier—” you tried to say, but Steven pulled you into your shared bedroom, your back against the hardwood door.
“Flirting with my co-workers, ���Do you think that was nice of you, love?” he said, his face so close to yours you could feel his warm breath on your lips. His hand is above your shoulder.
You shook your head, speechless. “Don’t think so,” he pulled back and went onto the bed removing his silver cufflinks. “Come here,” he gestured to the bed, his voice deep and serious, like a general giving away orders.
“I’m so sorry—” you uttered. He let out a few tsks before pulling his belt off. On the usual, it would be you who would be the more aggressive when it comes to stuff like this. You went to sit on the edge of your white king-sized bed, Steven looking down on you with shadows in his eyes.
He caressed your cheek with his thumb, it was so warm against your skin. His thumb went to your lips as he bent down to kiss you. You let out a soft moan as his lips left yours. He smirked. “Can we play?” he asked. You nodded before he placed his tie around your eyes, it was soft against your nose bridge and your temples.
Steven started to undress you, your shirt, your pants, your underwear. Before he laid you down he took the tie around your neck and wrapped it around your wrists and secured it with a knot. He gently placed you against the wide bedspread, your arms above your head.
“I hated the way he looked at you, the way he touched your hand as he talked to you,” he whispered in your ear leaving wet kisses around your neck. You could feel the stubble prick your skin. “Is it fair, my love? To let me see all that?” he said. You shook your head before he spun you around so your face faced the sheets, your ass cold against the air.
He smacked your rear with a loud clap, like a thunderstrike. A red print is left on your skin. He massaged it with a grip that grew tighter and tighter. You let out a cry from impact, tears forming in your eyes. Steven knew how much this might have shocked you, how it wasn’t really like him. But he saw the way that man looked at you, filled with so much lust and want, he wanted to hurt him. “Shit, I’m so sorry love was that too much?” he shakingly said.
“No, it—it’s good I liked it,” you witnessed a new side to him, your sweet and soft-spoken boyfriend was now all rough with you. You felt your center turn and harden. Steven’s own hardness grew, the visual of you prone on the bed bound and blindfolded, he cursed. It was Marc’s idea. He heard him whisper it in the car. Do it, teach ‘em a lesson.
“You’re so naughty, what will I do without you, love?” he said as he undressed his trousers. He bent down to kiss your nape, you could feel his tip rub against your back, leaving a wet trail. He took some lube and prepared your hole, his big digits inserted in you opening you up. He left kisses against your ass, leaving a few bites. You wince from the slight pain.
You hear a foil wrapper being opened and an elastic being stretched. “Can I be rough with you?” he said, you let out a whiny yes. He gently pressed into you, his hardness entering you. The two of you let out a loud groan, his hands gripping your waist.
He proceeded to thrust into you with fervor, he let out loud needy noises. You could feel his fingers press into your hip bones, his skin slapping into yours through each thrust. You could feel the hard tip ram into your most sensitive spots. You cried out curses and his name. The bed started to creek and rock back and forth, your fingers dug into the soft sheets.
The sheer amount of force he was letting out was enough to push you to the edge, you could feel your cock leak so much pleasure. Stop, he’s close, a voice whispered to Steven. He pulled out, you let out a sob from the loss of sensation.
“Steven—babe,” you were a whimpering mess.
“Not yet pretty, ‘need to show you how mad I am right now,” he sulked before turning you over and placing hips between your legs. He started to press wet kisses around your torso, his tongue playing with one of your nipples. The lack of vision made your whole body feel much more sensitive.
Your bound hands tried to touch his hair as he kissed you down to your leaking cock, he swiftly took your wrist and pinned them back above your head. He went to kiss around your neck, his hand going to your cock, he stroked it so fast, and with the precum, it was so slippering you were sure you’d finally cum. He stopped when your legs began to close, you let out another cry.
“You’re leaking so much, love. No one can make you like this but us.”
“I know—”
“Just the three of us for you. Is that not enough?”
“You’re m—more than enough.”
“So it won’t happen again?” he sounded like he was begging, pleading for you to only care for him.
“Yes—”
The moment you gave out your answer he pressed his cock again to your hole and began to fuck you again. He was harder, it was stiff around your rear, but pleasurable sliding across your muscles. His hip bones clashed against your skin, wet sounds filled the room. Your eyes rolled back from the sensation, your legs trembling.
The constant rubbing loosened the tie from your eyes, you saw Steven covered in sweat, glistening under the moonlight. His curly hair was all tousled and the veins in his hands were visible as it held your waist. He looked at you and noticed that you could finally see him. He placed a wanton kiss on your lips, it was lousy at best but filled with so much want. You placed your hands around his head and pulled him close.
He untied you and your hands began to snake across his wide back. The feeling of his cock inside you was starting to make your head feel light, your eyes half-lidded and your toes curled. You were a moaning mess under him.
He whispered that he was close. His thrusts became erratic but still hard. You asked if you could ride him and he obliged. You began to ride him as he sat on the edge of the bed. Your hips moved up and down, his hands clenched on your ass. The two of you shared one last kiss as he came inside you, your own cum shooting on your torsos. You felt the room darken as your eyes closed.
You woke up to the room still dark, the moon shone on the window. You felt a cold wet towel on your rear. It was Steven, cleaning you up as he pressed soft kisses on the redness around your waist.
“You’re awake,” he said, placing the wet towel on the basin near the bed stand. “‘Sorry if it was too much.”
“Marc got you into this?” you giggled. He nodded like a scolded puppy. You stroke his wet hair before you place a light kiss on his lips. “Cuddle me into bed then, my body is sore,” you said as he took out your softest blankets and covered your naked bodies. He peppered you with kisses before you went back into slumber.
interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>
#moon knight x reader#steven grant x reader#marc spector x reader#jake lockley x reader#moon knight x male reader#steven grant x male reader#marc spector x male reader#jake lockley x male reader#moon knight smut#steven grant smut#marc spector smut#jake lockley smut
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pairing: Josh Kiszka x Reader
word count: 3.7k
warnings: 18+ MDNI!! cussing, alcohol consumption, mentions of weed, smut, praise kink, very slight degradation, spanking, rough sex, overstimulation, hate sex, unprotected sex
welcome to the first of four collabs that @gold-mines-melting and i have planned! we hope yall enjoy this enemies to lovers josh fic that we planned out :)
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“You’re going to Jake’s party tonight, right?”
“Yes, Jenna, of course I’m going to Jake’s party. We talked about this like last week.” You set your phone down on your bathroom counter and pulled out your makeup bag.
“I know that, Y/n, but you also said you considered not going just so you wouldn’t have to deal with Josh.”
She wasn’t wrong. You had said you were debating not going to your mutual friend’s party just because of his twin brother. Jake was one of your closest friends, so of course if he was throwing a shindig you wanted to go, but Josh made it so hard to be around most of the time.
You and Josh had once been close. In fact, at one point a long time ago, you really liked him and you thought he liked you back. However, that hope was quickly stripped away and the feelings you had towards him grew into loathing when he started treating you horribly. He constantly made rude, snarky comments to you and about you, and made sure to really kick you when you were down. And you had no idea why.
“I’m not gonna let Josh ruin a great New Year’s Eve party.” You began applying your foundation as you spoke.
“Good. I gotta start getting ready so I’ll see you later.”
“For sure.” You agreed and let her hang up so you could blend the foundation out. You quickly finished up your festive makeup, and slipped on your sparkly dress and heels.
When you arrived at Jake’s house you were pretty positive that you had been the first, if not the only, to arrive. While there was still an open spot in the driveway you pulled into the spot in front of Jake’s garage. You didn’t bother locking your car and headed straight for the front door. Just as you were walking up the path leading to his house you could hear a car loudly making its way down the road. Out of habit you turned towards the noise to see who it could be.
Of course it had to be Josh. And of course instead of pulling into the open spot next to you he decided to park behind you. Completely blocking you in. Asshole.
“You couldn’t park in the completely open spot next to me?” You nearly shout mostly to be heard as Josh exits his jeep.
“You’re the one that parked in my spot, sweetheart.”
“I’m sorry? Your spot?” You can’t help but stare at him completely baffled by his entitlement. You also can’t help but notice how nice he looked. His mullet was curled and fluffed up nicely, and his outfit, an elegant suit over his usual white crewneck, flattered his slender frame very nicely. You mentally scolded yourself for even thinking about it. Josh paid you no mind however, and walked past you.
“That’s what I said.”
It took you a moment to get moving again, but you started following him towards the door, you were hot on his heels. He had already managed to piss you off before he even left his car.
“This isn’t even your house, Josh. How in the hell is that your spot.”
Josh didn’t bother knocking on the door and instead just let himself in. Had it not been for the two of you arguing, rather loudly, Jake probably wouldn’t have known you were there. You and Josh were bickering so intensely that it was actually Jake's presence that went unnoticed.
“You’re a self-entitled prick.” You pointed your finger at him, your chest puffed up and practically touched his.
“And you’re a selfish brat!” He spat back.
“Hey! Whoa!” Jake finally decided to intervene and pushed his brother back gently with his arm. “What the fuck could the two of you be arguing about?! You just got here!”
“Little miss ‘I only think about myself’ here parked in my spot!”
“How arrogant do you have to be to claim you have a parking spot at someone else’s house?!” You started to move in closer to Josh when you felt a pair of hands grip your shoulders.
“That’s enough, you two. It’s fucking New Year’s Eve.”
Somewhere between fighting with Josh outside and walking inside, Sam and Danny had arrived to help set up. Danny was currently holding you back.
“Josh get your ass in the kitchen and help me put out the food. Y/n go with Sam and Danny to set up the living room. I don’t wanna hear either of you say a peep to or about the other. Got it?” Jake demanded. The only response either of you gave was an unhappy mumble of agreement.
For the next hour you and Josh had been separated by his brothers. It was definitely for the best.
You, Danny and Sam worked together to finish the decorations up in the living room and set up a cocktail and champagne station. Meanwhile in the kitchen, Jake and his twin set out all the food and the full bar. When a few of your friends showed up Sam and Danny were nowhere to be found. You had assumed that they were making their rounds talking to everyone, but you spotted them almost hiding away with Jake, deep in a private conversation.
With more party-goers showing up it was easier to keep your distance from Josh. The lights had been dimmed, and you were feeling pleasantly tipsy after a cocktail. You drifted from person to person catching up and saying hi, enjoying the glamor of the evening. Some people you didn’t know and would introduce yourself to. Eventually Sam found you while you were free from company.
“Hey, Y/n, I need you to go down into Jake’s basement and get another bottle of champagne.”
“Yeah, sure. Is there a certain brand I’m looking for?”
Sam’s lips pulled up at the corner in an almost sly grin. “You’ll know it when you see it.” Without another word he walked away leaving you to retrieve the bottle.
You made your way to the door that led down into the basement and began the familiar descent down. There had been countless nights with your close friends spent in Jake’s basement just drinking, playing games and getting high. Not bothering to close the door behind you, you walked carefully down the steps.
“Dude I’m not seeing a bottle of champagne anywhere.” A voice called out from the room below you.
Josh.
He must’ve thought you were Jake coming to check on him. Before he realized it was you and not his twin, you turned and practically bolted up the stairs. You saw a glimpse of Sam on the other side of the door along with Jake and Danny before it slammed shut. The next sound you heard was a lock clicking into place.
“You have got to be joking!” You shouted and banged your fists on the door.
“Y/n? What the hell did you do?”
You turned around to meet Josh’s eyes. He was about more than halfway up the stairs, a puzzled look on his face.
“I didn’t do shit! They slammed the door and locked us in here!” You wiggled the handle furiously hoping to god it would open.
“You can’t be fucking serious.” Josh closed the distance and basically squished you against the wall. He repeated your previous action. Clearly the door wasn’t going to open.
“Oh we’re serious alright. No one is allowed to enter or exit until the two of you have worked your shit out.” Jake’s voice came from the other side of the door.
“Open the goddamn door, assholes!” Josh pounded his fist against the wood this time.
On the other side of the door there was nothing. Clearly all of them decided not to stick around. Seeing that standing there waiting around was pointless, you turned and walked down the stairs before flopping defeated onto the couch.
Great. You were trapped in a room for god knows how long with a man you despised. As if on cue, the devil himself thundered down the steps.
“This is all your fault!” He seethed, finger pointed at you as he walked over.
“My fault?!”
“Yeah, had you not parked in my spot we wouldn’t be down here right now!” He was looming over you now.
“Do you even hear yourself?!” You stood up causing him to back up quickly but the coffee table between you ensured he couldn’t go anywhere. “Any sane person would have just parked NEXT to my car, but no! You had to block me in because I parked in a spot of a house you DON’T EVEN LIVE IN!” You shoved your pointer finger into his chest to drive the point home further.
“I think you need to go back to Kindergarten when we were taught to keep our hands to ourselves.” His voice was calm and collected unlike yours, but you could tell he was fuming. It only served to irk you even further.
“Fuck. You. Josh.” You pressed your finger into him with every word and craned your neck upwards even more, invading his space just to make him break.
This was the closest you had been to Josh in a very, very long time. Even when you were arguing earlier you hadn’t been this close. His sweet but musky scent invaded every sense and you had to keep yourself from looking at his lips.
“Y/n,” You could see the anger flare in his eyes, “I would suggest you take your finger off me.” You could feel his chest rising rapidly underneath the sole digit.
“What are you,” Another thrust of your finger into his sternum, “gonna do about it?”
In an instant his lips crashed into yours. It was like your mouth moved of its own accord melding into his. Your hands fisted themselves in the collar of his white crewneck sweatshirt and pulled him closer. His hands were firm on your waist, fingers pulling you to him. The kiss was sloppy and rushed. Everything was moving a million miles a second.
Josh’s hands moved back over your hips to grab your asscheeks and gave them a firm squeeze. You bit down hard on his lip and tugged on it earning a groan from him. One of his hands gripped itself in the hair at the base of your skull and pulled enough to cause slight discomfort, but not enough to pull you away.
The kiss only got more heated, groans and moans escaping both your lips. After a few moments you were craving more and found your fingers working to undo his belt. His hands slid underneath the hem of your dress and teased around the top of your underwear before dipping further, but still he avoided everywhere you needed him. Not wanting to play into his game, you pushed his slacks and boxers past his hips, freeing him completely.
“Eager are we?” Josh didn’t even bother pulling his lips from yours.
“Are you going to play with my underwear all night or are you gonna fuck me?”
“Need it that bad huh?”
“Fuck. You.”
“Oh you’re about to. Turn around and bend over.” He took your hips in his hands and forced you to turn around. You followed his second instruction, bracing your hands on the back of the couch. With his foot he kicked your legs further apart and ran two fingers over your covered cunt. As he ran them back up the length of your slit towards your clit he curled his fingers on the edge of the fabric. He bunched the skirt of your dress up over your hips and slowly pulled your underwear to the side, watching the wetness that clung to them stretch.
“Any day now would be fucking great, Jo-”
All of the air was ripped from your lungs as he buried himself into you fully. He didn’t give you any time to recover before pulling out of you almost completely and driving back in repeatedly. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t know what he was doing. With every thrust he successfully hit that spot that made your core tighten and pitchy moans leave your mouth.
“Don’t have much to say now, do you princess?” There was no slowing his pace, and in fact you thought it even got faster and harder.
In a matter of a few minutes he had already brought you to the edge of an orgasm. You could feel yourself staring down the abyss, but you just needed one final push. Using the small amount of leverage you had, you pushed your hips back to meet his and arched your back ever so slightly. The small change in position had you practically barreling towards your climax.
“Oh fuck! Fuck, fuck, Josh. Just like that. God don’t fucking stop, I’m about to- I’m gonna- Fuck me, Josh.” You sounded desperate and whiny, but you couldn’t find it in you to care.
“You sound so pretty when you beg for my cock.” Continuing his space, Josh spread his hands over your ass, pulling your cheeks apart and stretching you even further. His right hand released your ass before coming down hard on the sensitive skin. The blow he delivered was the last push you needed into your high, and he fucked you through it.
“Look at my favorite brat cumming for me. That’s it, baby, let ‘em know how good it is.”
Even when you had finally come down, Josh never once stopped his hips and chased his own high. His pace had slowed somewhat, but the obscene sounds of his skin slapping against yours only grew louder from how wet you were.
“Josh I-” You were cut off by your own moan. It was becoming too much and you were oversensitive.
“I know, I know. Just give me one more.” His hand snaked down in front of you and rubbed slow, tight circles on your clit. His voice was far softer than it had been in the longest time. “C’mon, just one more.” It sounded almost like a plea. His lips ghosted the shell of your ear, his chest grazing over your back.
With his free hand, Josh moved your hair away from your neck and began leaving slow, open-mouthed kisses to your neck. He could feel you relax more underneath him, the discomfort turning to pleasure again. Keeping his attention on your clit, his hips started to speed up once more. You could feel the coil in your core tighten again, but much faster this time.
“God, you feel so fucking good.”
Once again he was ramming into you, but at a much slower pace and each brutal thrust of his hips bringing you that much closer to your second orgasm of the night. At this speed you were able to push back onto him more easily. After a few moments, Josh’s hips stilled completely, letting you take control. You sped up your hips and angled them with every push and pull, fucking yourself on his hard cock.
“Yeah that’s it, just like that.” His hand came into contact with your ass again forcing you to gasp in a pleasured sigh. “That’s it, baby, you fuck me so good.” Another slap landed to your backside and you were almost there.
“Just a little bit more. Keep going. So, so good.” The praises tumbled from his mouth with ease and you were eating it up.
With what little control you had left, you sped up your hips and slammed back on him repeatedly. His hands were gripping your hips so hard you were sure there would be bruises. You weren't going to last much longer.
“Josh I’m gonna cum, please.”
His hands stopped your hips from moving so he could take over. The pace he set this time was almost as fast and hard as when he first entered you. His right hand found your clit again while his left gently pushed your lower back down to increase the angle he was slamming into at. Your fingers were digging into the couch cushions, knuckles turning white from how hard you were gripping them.
Just as before, with a firm smack to your ass you were pushed into your second orgasm of the night. You weren’t sure if you were making noise or not, the rush of adrenaline dulled every sense that wasn’t burning pleasure. Josh pulled out shortly after you came, catching sight of your cunt fluttering around nothing while he pumped himself a few more times. He braced himself against the back of the couch with his hand next to yours and his chest almost leaned fully on your back as he came on your lower back and ass.
As soon as he caught his breath he moved off you with only a simple, “Don’t move.” You did as he asked and stayed put, but mainly because you didn’t wanna risk getting cum on your dress. A few seconds later you were being wiped off with some kind of cloth before he carefully moved your underwear back in place.
“You should be good.”
“Thanks...” You stood up slightly confused and let the skirt of your dress fall back over your hips.
Josh threaded his belt back through the buckle and sat down on the couch. You felt awkward just standing there, but you weren’t sure what to say. He had been nice to you which you weren’t used to. And just gave you some of the best sex you’ve had in a very, very long time.
“Well that is not how I envisioned our first time going.” Josh rubbed his hands down his face and leaned back into the couch.
Once again you were confused. What did he mean by that?
“Our first time? Like you’ve thought about it?”
Josh didn’t say anything and instead stared at you like he hadn’t realized he said it out loud.
“And why were you being nice to me? You’re always such an ass, I thought you hated me.” He took a deep sigh and thought for a moment before speaking.
“I don’t hate you, Y/n.” His voice was soft and quiet. “I don’t think I’ve ever actually hated you. I think I was just hurt.”
“Hurt? You’ve treated me like shit all this time because you were hurt? What the hell did I ever do to you?” You couldn’t help the animosity seeping into your tone. You were pissed off. He was the one that started treating you like shit out of nowhere.
“Please, Y/n, don’t pretend you don’t know what you did.” Defeated anger laced his voice, his eyes slicing but still soft in a way.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Josh. Please enlighten me!”
“You ditched our gig for a date!” He stood from the couch and faced you, his hands flailing about. “I had specifically invited you to our home show for Strange Horizons and had passes for you and you blew us off for a date with your coworker!” He leaned in closer to you, invading your space more and more.
“Josh I-“
“I planned to sing Unchained Melody for you and then after the show I was gonna finally tell you how I felt because I thought you felt the same!”
You knew exactly which show he was talking about but he had the information wrong.
“Josh, I did feel the same way… And I never stood you up for a date.”
“But-“ You grabbed his hands and gave them a light squeeze.
“I got stuck at work. The person who was supposed to cover my shift backed out at the last minute and I had to go in. I couldn’t find anyone else to cover me on such short notice. I never had a date. My coworker canceled on me for a date.”
He looked absolutely dumbfounded. It was like the pieces were clicking into place for him.
“Oh god I am the stupidest man alive.” You smiled at him softly and threaded your fingers with his.
“No you’re not. It was a miscommunication. It happens.”
“Yeah, but I wasted the past year being so awful to you. Had I just asked you about it then maybe we could’ve…” You cut him off with a soft peck to his lips.
“Hey, it’s a new year, right?”
“Right.” He checked his watch. “Looks like we missed midnight,” he noted playfully, “but we definitely got our New Year's kiss.”
You giggled at that. Josh pulled you closer and smiled down at you fondly before giving you another quick kiss. “Let’s hope they didn’t forget about us.” He snickered, keeping one hand entwined with yours and walking towards the stairs. When he tried the handle it gave way with ease and the door swung open. He led the two of you back out into the house still holding your hand.
“Well it’s about damn time!” Sam hollered pointing at your hand in Josh’s. Whoops and more excited cheering followed making both of your cheeks flame.
“Do you wanna get out of here?” Josh turned to you with bright red cheeks but with a smile that overtook his entire face. You nodded, not wanting to have to deal with how obnoxious your friends will be all night.
“Guess it doesn’t even matter that he blocked you in now!” Danny called after the two of you. You tried to make a quick getaway with everyone adding their two senses to the subject, all in favor of the two of you getting over yourselves.
Both of you just laughed at Danny’s comment and exited Jake’s house towards Josh’s Jeep. He opened the door for you to hop in the passenger side and made his way around to the driver’s side. Josh pulled his phone out to put on some music and chuckled to himself. He flipped the phone around to show you what amused him.
It was a text he had gotten while you were stuck in the basement.
Jake: Went to check on you to make sure neither of you murdered the other. Definitely didn’t sound like either of you were in danger… Not what I intended, but glad you worked your shit out. Don’t fuck it up this time.
The two of you rang in the new year at Josh’s house with an actual bottle of champagne and even more fireworks than the ones going off all around.
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Text
Shit Habit
A Married!Javi Drabble
Rating: PG13 (just suggestive stuff, nothing explicitly smutty. Warning: mention of Stechner)
Series Masterlist
“What happened to the nicotine gum?” She asked, looking up from her book, catching him with an unlit cigarette between his lips, lighter clutched in his hand.
“Had a conversation with Stechner,” was all he needed to say. She hummed in understanding. Stechner had become a staple of his angry rants to her about work and he’d become a center of her jokes where she’d curse “fucking Stechner” whenever anything went wrong in their day.
“Fucking Stechner,” she cursed as he predicted, making him smile halfheartedly before parroting “Fucking Stechner” back at her. He was bringing too much of his work back home. But she still found him acceptable enough to keep around, beckoning him with her index finger. He followed, walking away from the open window to where she sat on the sofa. He tried to sit, but she stretched her legs out on the sofa before pulling him away from the seat by his hands.
He raised an eyebrow at her and she simply smiled before she began unbuttoning his shirt.
“I have to say, you look really good in a white shirt and slacks. Like a conventional office worker.”
“Huh. Fucking hate it. And the stupid SUV. I need my jeep back. Not this stupid little—” he sighed and pushed his hair out of his forehead. “Sorry, I’m just… It’s this job— it’s different. I can’t be on the field like I used to be anymore. I have to send other guys, trust that they won’t fuck up. Duffy and Lopez ended up on the news and I had to take responsibility for their shit.”
“Aww honey,” she cooed, her voice so soft it melted away some of the tension in his muscles. “Maybe this is why Noonan and Messina were always pissed at you and Steve. Because they had to face the fire after you broke the rules.”
“You’re saying it’s karma?” He asked, finally lighting the cigarette. When the first puff filled his lungs, his hand finally stopped its restless fidgeting. He was never going to be able to quit at this rate.
He kept his eyes away from her, easy to do as he stood while she was sitting. He was afraid that if he looked, he’d see disappointment. She never suggested that he quit or even demanded it of him. She had every right to demand it, especially now. She never asked for shit. It should make him feel at ease, but the more he messed up and she went without fighting him on it, the worse he felt. He knew how to defend himself against anger— he would make excuses, tell her he couldn’t quit when his job was so stressful again. But she said nothing, just offered kindness and slipped a strip of nicotine gums into his suit pocket when he dropped her off at work in the morning. What was he meant to do with supportiveness?
The second puff tasted bitter in his heart and he quickly put it out on the glass top of their coffee table as he’d gotten rid of his ashtray in a bout of enthusiasm over quitting.
“Good boy.”
He snorted. Good? He went two weeks without smoking and now that they were in Colombia, he was right back to the terrible habit.“That was my fifth cigarette today.”
“Used to be seven a day on average. You only took two puffs of this last one…and I know you’ve been very stressed lately. Good boy,” she said, pulling him down to her by his hand. Guided by her hand, he knelt down by the sofa.
“It’s a shit habit.”
“It is,” she agreed, her hand coming up to cup his cheek. “You’re an impatient man, Javier. You want everything to happen immediately. Cut yourself some slack, acknowledge that you’re doing better now than you were doing last month. If you feel shit about where you’re at in your journey to quit your smoking habit, you’ll just feel worse and quitting won’t feel worth it anymore.”
He nodded, knowing she was right. But it didn’t stop him from feeling like shit. He placed a hand on her knee, his thumb caressing a scar she’d gotten from a childhood fall in the playground. He traced the shape of it, and visualized the shape without even having to take another look at it. A new body every night used to be fun but now, he needed the familiar terrain of her body. He needed to know that when he made his way up her thigh, he would go past that mole, that when he buried his face in her neck he would smell the scent of her coconut shampoo.
“Alright… since you’re already on your knees…” she trailed, smiling suggestively as she threaded her fingers through his hair.
“Ask you to marry me?” He squinted, feigning innocence. It was fun to pretend when he knew exactly what she was asking for.
“Well, don’t be too confident with that. Just because I said yes once doesn’t mean I’ll say yes again,” she teased, the back of her hand grazing his cheek.
“Oh?”
“Mhmm. My back hurts and I threw up right after I woke up and it’s all your fault. So, I’m not so enthusiastic about you anymore.”
“I’m sorry…” he said, pulling her shorts down her legs. He started with her belly, placing a kiss on it as it’d become customary of late. There was no visible difference in her yet, nothing apparent, but it felt good to acknowledge it with small affections. He had to quit his habit soon. He shouldn’t be smoking around her. While she chose to build a life with his sorry ass, shit habits and all, this baby didn’t and it would be the wrong example to set for it.
“Don’t say sorry. Show me how sorry you are,” she said, guiding him by his hair between her legs. Laughter bubbled over from his chest and he pushed her legs apart, settling himself comfortably between them.
“Si, Jefa.”
_______
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