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#been working on lighting too. i'm just playing around to try to figure out what works
elzorton · 7 months
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Carry your girlfriend
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luveline · 6 months
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gorgeous can we get bombshell reader and Spencer May be the first time he’s snappy with her bc he’s stressed and she’s just so taken aback and May be even tears up? And then just a fluffy ending with Spencer apologizing
thank you for requesting! fem, 2.2k
Spencer Reid is extra kissable when he's frowning. Button up and no suit jacket, sleeves pushed past his elbows and hair on the shorter side, he holds a certain confidence in his hands where they're tucked in his pockets. Sure of himself, and clearly agitated. 
You're always on his side; you don't think twice about easing into the conference room to see what's wrong. 
"Hey," you say with a slight lilt to your tone. You're always on his side, and always flirting. "What's wrong?" 
"Why does something have to be wrong?" he asks. 
Not mean. Not light. Somewhere in the solid middle, his gaze loyal to the laptop on the desk he stands behind. You step close enough to smell the subtle scent of his cologne, wondering if he can smell your perfume in turn, and if it's one he likes. You try to touch his hand and he takes the desk into his grip instead, leaning forward, out of reach. 
"That's not what I meant to convey," you say, still flirting. You're not stupid, you realise his mood, but you're hoping it's somebody else's fault. "But if you aren't happy to see me then I'd definitely suggest there was something wrong." 
"I'm just trying to figure something out." 
This close, to your own credit, Spencer usually trips up. He's been getting better as you've grown closer, your 'torturing' —as the team likes to call it— only prompting the occasional blush or stammer. You don't flirt with Spencer to torture him no matter what anyones says and you never have, you flirt with him because he deserves to be complimented. He's andsome, intelligent, and courageous. What others might miss you see in blaring neon lights: he's a catch. You intend on making your intentions known, and if that means playing the long game or the slow burn, that's okay. You like to dance. 
You put yourself between him and the laptop screen. He can still see it if he cranes his neck, and he does. "You look a little tired, handsome. Looking at a screen all day will hurt you in the end. Neck aches, shoulder cramps, eye strain. Though I can't help with the latter, the former…" His arm is solid under your hand, your fingertips running along the ridge of a stark vein. 
He doesn't quite flinch away, but he moves quickly enough to startle you, lamenting, "Could you give me some space, please?" 
That's all well and good, you rush to do as he's asked and step back because the very last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable and his voice is frankly acidic, but everything is moving too quickly, you're not as aware as you should be —you smash your hand backwards into a cold cup of coffee and knock it straight into the lap of Spencer's laptop. 
"No," you gasp, grabbing the cup before the entirety of it can empty. Coffee wells between the keys and you go to grab it to– well, to do something. 
"Stop it!" Spencer shouts, voice sharp as a knife. "You always do this," —quieter, venomous— "you can't help yourself." 
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I would answer you if I had the time. I'll be busy rescuing my hard drive before an entire month of work is wasted thanks to your dire need for attention." 
He slips around you and stalks out the door, coffee dripping from the corner of his laptop in a sorry trail that shines in the fluorescent lights. 
Your first rush of tears are driven by indignation; it was an accident, you didn't mean to do that, why would you ever do that? But the second, more encompassing rush is a hot mixture of shame and guilt. What have you done? 
You take a hesitant step toward the door but don't bother following him. I'll make things worse, you think, bringing a hand to your face. Makeup marrs your hand as you wipe your cheeks. You stare down at the stains for a long, long time. 
I'll apologise, you think eventually, rubbing at the mascara like soot on your palm. Just as soon as I look okay again. 
You don't want Spencer or anyone to see you upset. You wear your makeup and your confidence for yourself, not to hide any insecurity but to embolden yourself, to be yourself. But to get to your desk you'd have to leave the conference room bared as you are, and you'd have to face Spencer, and the second option brings more tears. 
This is all so messy, and it's your fault. 
I'm such an idiot. I'm exactly what he thinks of me. 
You sit in the chair furthest from the door with a pack of tissues from the cubby and rub your hot cheeks dry, streaks of mascara in the shapes of your fingertips like soot left behind. It's sitting that gets you —the shock of tears at being shouted at by someone you care about amplifies into a distress you can't explain. It's stupid, it's stupid. You press your face into your hands and curl in on yourself at the table, ears ringing. I'm so, so stupid. 
The inside of Spencer's lip is bleeding, metallic on his tongue. He's white hot annoyance all the way to Penelope's office, choked as he tells her he needs her help. 
"Spencer?" she said. "What happened? Are you okay?" 
He realises what he's done. "Please, Garcia, can you do something? I really need to go." 
He doesn't hear her response beyond her surprised but emphatic Sure, spinning on his heel to walk back the way he came. He rubs at his temple, moving between a slow trudge and a speed walk as he assesses the damage of what he's said. What did he say? your dire need for attention. 
Your sniffing is something out of his fucking nightmares. Who does he think he is? You're sitting exactly where he left you next to that half empty coffee cup, a tissue scrunched in your trembling hands, visible in the small glass window of the door. You must be thinking of what he's said to have missed the sound of his footsteps, or perhaps he's left you too upset to want to look up. 
He sees the moment a sob works through you, watches you hold your breath in a painful effort to keep it down, raising the tissue to your eyes and catching your tears before they fall. You're doing a lacklustre job despite your efforts, the oily shine of mascara iridescent on your cheeks. Or maybe that's tear tracks. It's hard to tell. 
Spencer fights with himself. He doesn't know if deserves to come running back or if it would be more fair to send JJ or Derek in to comfort you. 
"You made your bed," his mom would say, not without affection. "You have to lie in it." 
Spencer squeezes his eyes closed to push away the memory, surveying the damage he's done carefully as he crosses the threshold back into the conference room. Your head lifts at the sound of the door, your stammer visible before you speak, "Spence– Spencer. Is your laptop okay? Did I break it? I'm so sorry." 
Gideon would tell Spencer to be nicer. Hotch would say Reid in that stern shade of voice that's half disapproval and half fondness. They'd both tell him to be better, but neither of them have ever had to see you as you look now, tearstained and sorry, eyes wide with worry but shoulders tense. He has his role models, and yet none of them could possibly give him a way to apologise that could ever make up for they way he's made you feel. 
Little dramatic, Morgan would say. Start with a hug, loverboy. Can't go wrong with a hug. 
He should ask but he doesn't, a second transgression against you. Spencer pushes past chair and the sodden circle of carpet to your chair, pausing in case you're going to tell him to shove it. You lick your lips. "Did I break it?" you ask, as though resigned for a yes  
He can't temper that amount of self-hatred on you. It doesn't suit you. He much prefers you the way you like to be, confident in everything, flirty and funny and soft, in both touch and touches. He takes your face into a careful hand, tilting it toward the light and weary of your shallow exhale. "I…" He begins and ends, stroking your tacky cheek with his index finger, as though brushing away an eyelash. If it were real he'd say make a wish, and you would wish for him or some similar sweetness, salacious smile to boot, or earnestness fit to fill a mountain. I wish you'd realise how pretty you are and stop denying me the pleasure of a beautiful boyfriend, you'd croon. 
His fingers collect at your jaw and slip behind your ear as he cleans your skin with the side of his thumb. You lean into the touch, slashing his hesitancy in two. 
"Sorry," he says, pulling your head toward his neck gently as he leans down to hold you. "I'm sorry. Don't be upset, please. Don't be upset " 
"I'm an idiot–" 
"No," he says, with the facts to back his denial. "I'm an idiot, I should never have upset you like this–"
"I broke your computer, it's just like you said–" 
"I shouldn't have–" 
"–I'm so needy I could've ruined all your hard work," you say, wriggling with guilt like you attempt to pull away. 
Spencer really doesn't want to let you go now he has you, not until he's sure you'll stay in one piece. "If it's ruined, it's my fault for failing to back it up." 
He should tell you that he's sorry for what he said. He knew it wasn't right he moment it escaped him, to speak to you like that, and accuse you of what he did. He basically called you selfish, uncaring. He implied it and worse, and for what? An accident? A mis-step that he practically forced you into? 
"I never should've said that to you," he says, breaking his hug to crouch in front front you, searching blindly for your hand as he holds eye contact, looking up. You deign to frown down. "And I walked away. And you're crying," —his voice fries with sympathy— "because of me." 
Your hand is limp in his. "I'm sorry," he says. 
"It's okay." You sniffle and nod, lips struggling into a smile. 
"It's not okay." 
"Well, I hit your coffee over, so we're even." 
"You accidentally spilled my drink, you didn't deserve to be mocked." 
"Spence…" Your eyes half-lidded, you wince down at the cradle of his hand where it holds yours. "Did I break it?" 
"I don't know. I got to Garcia's office and I knew I did the wrong thing, so I came back." 
You swallow audibly. "I just wanted to make you feel better." 
"I know, angel." He stands again as your eyes well with tears to hug you, kissing the top of your head. "I'm sorry. That was all me, okay? I shouldn't have snapped at you." 
What follows is agony. Spencer patting your back through a panicked bubble of tears, wretched in knowing he caused it, and worse is the look you give him as he wipes your messed up make up away in want of a mirror, like you're grateful. 
"Does it look really bad?" 
"N–no. You look really pretty," he says. 
"Are my eyes puffy?"
A little. "No. You look great." He can't apologise anymore– it won't help you feel better now, it'll just assuage his own worry. What you need is a different reassurance. "It's hard not looking at you, sometimes, you look that nice. But you know that already." 
"I don't mean to do that. I didn't mean to." 
Spencer puts his hand above your heart. "I know you didn't. I really, really shouldn't have said it. I was being cranky and I struck out like a kid." 
"...You're not just saying I look nice to get back in the good books, are you?" you ask. 
Spencer leans in, nearly nose to nose with you. "Of course not." 
You tilt your head as though you might kiss him. He knows you won't and he's delighted anyways. It means you're feeling okay. He's nearly forgiven, or, at the very least, you're not actively upset. "I thought I liked seeing you pissed off, but now I'm not so sure." 
"It's not a good look on me," he murmurs. "But it looks great on you, if you want to get angry with me."
"Well now I can't. I know it's what you want." 
"Can I give you a hug?" he asks. 
You drop all your acts and slide your arms around his neck. He wraps you up slowly, one arm at a time, careful to put all the pressure exactly where you like it. 
"That feels nice," you mumble. 
He bends into you and rubs your back. "Yeah?" 
"Don't," you warn. 
He draws a shape into your back with his fingers, slow, tiny things that make you squirm. "Don't what?" 
"You're tickling me." You don't sound unhappy about it. 
"What?" he asks. "I can't hear you over the sound of me being a huge jackass. Sorry, angel." 
Your giggle is honey into his shoulder, sticky and sluggish as his circles turn to stars.
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i-cant-sing · 6 months
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Okay but I need yall to help me figure out the character(s) for the following scenario:
Imagine a romantic yandere falling for reader, and ofc reader isn't in love with yandere for obvious reasons like red flags. Maybe they did try dating, Yandere is a charmer, comes from a rich family, he's smart and hardworking and oh so head over heels in love with you. He's always taking you out on best dates, HAS to get you the largest fucking bouquets (excellent taste in flowers) and buys you expensive but well thought out gifts.
But for whatever reason, things dont work out and you break things off hastily and most likely over the phone before leaving the country. And yandere just- breaksdown. I mean my man does not have a good mental health as is, but you leaving, actually leaving him just breaks him down and he has a full blown panic attack.
I'm talking about yandere falling to his knees, clutching his chest and gasping for air, tears streaming down his face as he screams your name like a mad man. His family, they love him, they adore their son/brother/grandchild sm, it pains them to see him in such a miserable state. Yandere man is so delirious that he has to be sedated, tranquillised by medical professionals because he's just losing his fucking mind, babbling your name over and over again like a mad man. His condition only worsens as time passes, and so his family decides to take drastic measures because they can't see their beloved son/brother/grandkid so fucking dead and depressed and a shell of a once bright man. They love him so much, they only want ti see him happy, so they use their money and influence to track you down and try to convince you to return and take yandere back. When you refuse, they take the high way and force you to come with them, dragging you kicking and screaming to their private jet and fly all the way home, where yandere is.
You're in a dishevelled state, tears running down your cheeks as you struggle to free yourself from their grasps as they take you to yandere. And when yandere sees you... for the first time in months, his family sees the light return in his eyes as the yandere reaches out for you, scared that you're just his mind playing tricks. When he finally touches you, he is immeadiately pulling you into a hug, arms tightening around your body like a gilded cage as he cries into your shoulder and thanks his family for bringing you back. His family only smiles with tears in their eyes as they lock the door behind them when they leave, so that you don't go running away. Meanwhile, yandere has pulled you into his lap and he's looking at you with such sad eyes, staring at each feature of yours over and over again as if to memorise it all again. He can't help the tears that continue to slip out of his eyes, maybe he's crying that you're finally here, or maybe he's crying for all the time that's been lost when you weren't here. You fall asleep soon due to exhaustion, but yandere doesn't sleep a wink that night because he continues to stare at you and play with your hair very gently, finally closing his eyes when morning comes and he wraps his arms around you and traps your legs with his.
By now, you guys realise that the yandere's family is not only yandere for their son/brother/grandson but also for you. They are yandede for you too, but they're not allowing you to leave them or their son or even make him unhappy ever again. Some members are willing to let all you "tantrums" slide, while others are not so kind. BUT one thing is for sure, you're ALWAYS safe with yandere s/o, no matter what.
Now, for the characters I've had in kind for this scenario are:
Halim Mehmet Shah and the Shah Family (my ocs)
Dabi/Shotou and Todoroki clan (I am the OG creator of Yandere Todoroki Clan)
I wanna say Naoya or Toji but the Zenin clan hates them both....
Dick Grayson/Jason Todd and Batfam
What do you guys think?
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Mood board for this scenario^^^(I love Pinterest)
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matrixbearer2024 · 2 months
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Idea for your "get off my screen" series! So what if the reader is like visiting someone/housesitting for someone and they have a radio that reader is listening to because she loves it, and they (of course) bring their phone and laptop to stay talking to vox, and when they connect him to the TV in the living room and the first thing he sees is the radio and he's like "get that thing the fuck away from you" and the readers like "um, no? I love it. I was thinking about getting one for my room" and he's like "absolutely not"
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Get That Shit Off My Screen!
A/N: Oh this is fucking golden, I absolutely need to write this to displace the absolute angsty unit of an interlude I wrote hahahaha- I'll be finishing the requested interludes before I continue with the story. I ended up posting the continuation so y'all could already get down to brainstorming and scheming on lore ideas XD
A/N: Vox is kind of a pissy little rat here and we just annoy him a bunch more too lololol Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy the story and as always- Happy Reading!
You have seriously got to stop accepting favors from friends.
Because that was how you found yourself walking down the sidewalk on the way to go housesitting.
Just a week ago you'd had to impromptu take care of a little puppy.
And consequently placate a certain jealous TV demon-
And now you were asked to carry another favor as well.
Well, more like that friend practically begged you to accept.
You slightly readjusted the backpack you wore, it wasn't as light as hoped when you left your home.
Which, makes sense all things considered.
After all, it had your devices in there along with the necessities.
If you had to end up bored today you were going to rope in a certain annoying overlord just to avoid it.
Fumbling with the keys a bit, you opened the door to the house and entered before locking it behind you.
A habit you'd grown up with after your parents constantly reminded you to do so.
The home was... pretty big, especially compared to the place you were currently living in.
Tossing your bag onto the living room couch, you explored the rest of the home for a bit before returning.
"Gonna be housesitting today, mind if I connect you to the TV?"
When he simply replied with a thumbs up emoji, you figured he wasn't doing anything and just connected your laptop to the living room television again.
He didn't appear right away though, so you decided to look around the home once more.
It was filled with a lot of old stuff, reminiscent of a time gone by.
Which, kind of makes sense since it was the house of your friend's grandma that you were watching over for the day.
Ooooh- what's this thing?
"Hey doll sorry I'm late, got a bit delayed from a meeting and- GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THAT!"
You jumped at suddenly hearing Vox's words from the TV, when did he even get here?!
You had half a mind to yell at him for scaring you but you were far too curious about this old boxy object you found.
"Whaaa??? Why? What even is this?"
You asked while messing with the knobs, you doubted it even worked when it randomly started to play a song.
Oh.
OH.
So that's why he was so pissed.
And so you decided to troll with your digital companion as he often did to you.
"Woaaah, I've never seen one of these old radios before-"
"I'm surprised that one still works, it's an obsolete piece of fucking junk!"
Vox didn't really have time to scan the new surroundings when he'd connected to your devices and consequently the TV.
It didn't help either that the first thing he noticed was that you hunched over messing with something.
Only for him to find out moments later that it was a fucking radio.
The same old shit he'd been busy trying to wipe off the face of hell ever since his rival's return.
And the fact you were starting to get interested in it made his blood boil.
You held back a snicker seeing Vox just angrily glare at the old relic as it continued to play tunes.
You were aware of his entire vendetta against Alastor-
Or well, with as much as he'd tell you when he ranted.
But the fact something so simple as just a reminder set him off?
"Well I think it's niche, maybe I should get one of these for my room-"
"NO- zzZzzZsT THE FU- zZzST -CK YO- ZzZZsT -U AREN'T!"
You couldn't hold the laughs back this time, doubling over when Vox started buffering and yelling about how stupid and old the radio was.
He didn't even seem to notice that you were just pulling his leg.
Something this old wouldn't fit into your home, besides-
You had a new Bluetooth speaker with loads better audio quality.
This old thing was just a nice reminder of times long ago.
Times you didn't even live in.
"Finnneeeee, fine fine you pissbaby. I won't get one. Still think it's pretty funky though."
You said as you plopped down on the couch, noticing Vox's face was still glitching and fizzing on the TV screen.
He wasn't even looking at you and instead was glaring off to the side.
Was he that upset about the radio?
Really??
"Dude, you know as much as I do how ancient that stuff is. If I did end up getting one it would be because someone dumped it on me. I like looking at the past but not collecting relics."
Vox still didn't react and you raised an eyebrow.
Silent treatment huh?
Okay, you could play his game.
"Anyway, I was looking up stuff from around the decade you told me you died."
He finally looked back to you with a raised eyebrow.
Bingo.
"And I ended up finding this serial murder case that's still unsolved to this day."
Vox only furrowed his eyebrows, he wasn't in hell for murder.
As far as he was concerned, it was probably because he was a lying and cheating businessman.
As you continued to talk more about the details of the case, it started to paint a more familiar picture.
And as entertaining as it was to watch you discuss with him something interesting you found-
Vox was not fond of you talking about Alastor so avidly.
Geez, if only you'd look that cute talking about him like that.
What-
What?
That was probably the envy talking.
"Doll, I know you were probably trying to cheer me up but I'm kind of certain that's one of Alastor's cases."
"Huh? Why do you say that?"
"The old fuck's a cannibal. I knew for sure it was him when you mentioned the bodies were found cut up like a butchered pig."
At least Vox was talking to you again, even if he still looked more than peeved it was about his rival.
He actually looked more grumpy and pouty in your opinion-
But that was probably because you weren't seeing right.
"Well, why did you end up in hell then? I would've thought you'd be in for something just as horrible to be as powerful as you say you are."
Vox just sighed, he wasn't actually sure what got him dammed for eternity.
But he did a lot of bad things over the course of his life, so it was probably the accumulation of it all that had sent him into the inferno.
"What makes you ask dollface? Curious much?"
You just shrugged, shifting to lie down on the couch and just look up at the antique chandelier hanging above on the ceiling.
"Dunno, I just want to know more about you. I mean, I know enough- but I want to know more."
Vox could feel his screen heating up slightly in his chair.
Why did you have to be so damn cute-
The fact you wanted to know more about him, it made him feel... odd-
Well, a good odd.
He didn't really know what to do with himself.
"I'm not actually sure. I've been a businessman my whole life, probably the worst of the worst when it comes to principles but I haven't directly ever killed anyone if that's what you're guessing."
"Huh, makes me wonder if I'll end up in hell for the stunts I've pulled on other students too."
"The hacking? Or the blackmailing? Because I doubt either of those would actually send you down here."
"Oh come onnnn, I swear at this point I'll actually kill someone so I can guarantee I'd meet you."
You raised an eyebrow at the screen turning pink again.
Pfft, did he seriously get embarrassed by that?
A smile worked onto your face when Vox softly excused himself and disconnected from the TV.
Ha, cute.
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sirfrogsworth · 5 months
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When I got to this photo in Katrina's collection of vintage family imagery, I was pretty stumped as to how to approach it.
There is a major problem when you zoom in to 100%.
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The paper it was developed on has little micro bumps. When it was scanned, the light from the scanner caused a highlight on one side of the bump and a shadow on the other. This causes a pattern which is nearly impossible to eliminate using traditional techniques.
The easiest way to fix this is actually quite clever. You scan it once, then turn it upside down and scan it again. The second pass reverses the side the highlight and shadow appear on, so you can combine the images in Photoshop and blend them together, essentially canceling out the bumps. It's weirdly analogous to noise canceling headphones.
But I don't have access to the physical copy of this image.
So... now what?
Enter Fast Fourier Transform or FFT.
This is a filter that uses extra fancy math to recognize patterns in the image and eliminate them. There is a pretty good filter for Photoshop, but it does not work easily with newer Macs with Apple Silicon. I really did not want to figure that out, and I also was too tired to go downstairs to my PC. However, I learned that a Photoshop competitor, Affinity Photo, has this filter built in. So, I downloaded a trial copy and started the process of trying to figure out how to fix this image.
It was amazingly simple. It brings up these star patterns and you just paint black circles over every one but the center. It literally felt like magic. (Full screen with sound recommended)
So once I did this process I ended up with this...
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The paper still had a rough texture but it was much easier to work with using traditional techniques. I started with a black and white conversion and meticulously went through the photo zapping scratches and flaws and balancing tones and sharpening facial features. All of my photo restoration tricks were needed.
I eventually landed here...
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I then thought maybe I should match the sepia tone of the original print, so I got to here...
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I think the black and white looks nicer in this instance, but I always like having options and this is the most faithful representation of how the photo originally looked.
But there is something else I have been playing around with lately. Photoshop has these experimental neural filters that use cloud processing to do various tricky enhancements. Most of them are in beta and they can be very quirky. But they have a colorizer that tries to detect people and things and adds color to them. Not every black and white photo is a good candidate. I have found these professional portrait photos work decently, but the filter is very hit-and-miss. And there are tools within the filter to help you make a miss more of a hit, but often I have to accept the photo isn't going to work.
But I decided to give it a shot with this one and surprisingly, the colorizer got me most of the way there.
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I can work with that.
The one thing it does well is skin. Manually painting color onto skin is tricky and requires more skill and knowledge of traditional painting techniques than I have. But if a filter can do that part for me, I can do the rest.
So after my touchups, I got the image to here.
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All I have left to do is my standard color enhancements to make them a little less ghostly and a little more human.
And I present to you where I started and the finished product. I encourage you to flip back and forth.
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I'm not sure how, but I was able to go from an image I thought was impossible to edit to a beautiful colorized memory for my best friend's mom. I cannot wait to show her.
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Rest Had Seemed The Sweetest Thing.
Bucky's slowly learning that love isn't a finite resource. aka, Bucky's first Christmas.
pairing - bucky barnes x female reader
warnings - none!! just tooth rottingly sweet fluff <3
word count - 1.7k
author's note - based on these two requests!! i'm also trying a new post format... what do we think?? I promised you i'd get a couple of xmas fics out before the 25th... I lied. apologies!! forgive me. title taken from the poem The Owl by Edward Thomas.
as always, if you enjoyed, please reblog!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics. thanks, angels <3
masterlist. inbox.
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He whispers the words, timid and reserved, directly into your ear as if he's worried someone else will hear. It's only the two of you sat on the couch in your shared apartment, but Bucky's nervous.
Your head whips around in shock, trying to play it cool. Failed.
"Are you... are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure."
You grin, big and blinding, the beams of it radiating into Bucky's bones. It settles into his muscles, eases the tension from his shoulders.
You try not to make a big deal of it, try to keep your excitement under wraps. But you've been waiting for him to say those words for almost six years.
"I want to do Christmas this year."
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
He hates the cold.
No, he's traumatised by the cold.
Years spent frozen, genetically modified and locked in a glorified freezer. Every gust of wind, every flake of snow reminds him of the darkest days with no light to be seen. His blood may run hot, but he feels like his heart is yet to thaw. He debates moving to the desert at least ten times a day.
Then he looks at you. How happy you are when winter comes around. The way your face lights up when it snows. And he figures that if it brings you this much joy... maybe he can tolerate it.
He bites back the chill, grits his teeth at the icy breeze, ignores the shudder of the cold all the way down to his bones. He grins and bears it, because you love it. He thinks you don't notice.
You do.
You've known ever since you met him. His demeanour changes when the winter comes around. He gets a little tentative around the autumn time, as if he's preparing himself for the worst. And then the first snow falls, and he's different. Guarded. Careful. Reluctant. He puts a fake smile on his face and pretends, but you're nothing if not completely in tune with everything Bucky Barnes.
You never asked, never pried. Just stood steadily by his side, regardless of the walls he'd placed around himself. Around his heart.
He broke down one night, wrapped up in bed with you. A chill had blown through your old apartments rickety windows and unearthed old memories, ice running into his veins. He was sure his tears were frozen as they dripped down his face.
You understood him better, since that day.
You've tried to suggest moving in subtle and not so subtle ways, but he won't have it. He knows this is your home. He knows you like it here. He knows he can stay, if he works a little harder on himself.
So, he tries. Every single day, he tries. And that's all that matters.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Okay, so... ground rules. Hit me, Buck. We do this on your terms."
He thinks for a moment before turning to face you.
"I want it to be just us. No one else."
"Done."
"And I don't wanna do the whole Christmas dinner thing. Feels like too much all at once."
You fight the urge to burst into tears at how easily he's communicating with you, how effortlessly he's enforcing his boundaries. You've come a long way.
"Done. Agreed, by the way. Fuck Christmas dinner. We'll do our own thing."
He grins at you, leaning in to kiss you slowly, tenderly, leisurely. Like you have all the time in the world.
"I want to get a tree. And lights. We don't have to do all the ornaments and stuff, but lights would be nice."
"I have an artificial tree in the back of the storage closet... is that okay?"
"Perfect. I don't want to stand on all the pine needles, anyway."
Laughing, you shift closer to him, tangling your legs together on the couch.
"And no gifts for me."
"But Buck-"
"Angel. I don't want anything. I have everything I need sat next to me."
You roll your eyes, but you can't wipe the smile off your face.
"This isn't fair, suddenly."
"It's plenty fair. You stress too much when you buy gifts, and this is going to be a stress free Christmas. Understood?"
He hooks his fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him.
"Understood," you whisper, swinging your knee over so you're straddling him. "Stress free."
Bucky tilts his head up to kiss you, gentle at first, then firmer when you roll your hips into his. He's a little distracted, admittedly. He got you to promise not to get him anything, but made sure you wouldn't ask the same. His mind runs a mile a minute, trying to wrack his brain on what kind of gift to get for the love of his life, the person that saved him and continues to save him every single day.
He comes up empty, but lets you kiss the thoughts away for a little while.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"My mom taught me this specific way to hang lights on your tree. Look, grab this end and I'll show you."
You're both still in your pyjamas, fire roaring, a jazzy Christmas melody playing from the radio. You decided you wouldn't put up your tree until the day before, to save Bucky from feeling overwhelmed. It's worked, so far - he looks plenty relaxed as he chuckles and rises from the armchair.
"You're tall, so hold this above your head so they don't tangle."
You work diligently, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you concentrate. Bucky's happy to watch you, fighting the smile off his face every time you sigh in exasperation. Eventually, you step back and admire your masterpiece, satisfied and content.
"It's beautiful, baby," he whispers, wrapping his arms around you from behind.
He presses a kiss into your neck, then another, then another. Your eyes slip closed, and you sink into his embrace, feeling more at peace than you ever thought possible. You spend the evening by the fire, lying on the rug, room illuminated by the lights on the tree.
It's perfect in every way.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Merry Christmas, angel."
"Merry Christmas, Buck."
His hand finds yours under the duvet, pulling you in close. You tangle yourself around him like lights on a tree, all encompassed by his warmth.
"What's the plan for today, Sergeant?"
He presses a kiss into your temple, propping himself up on his elbow so he can see you properly.
"I say we make some breakfast, spend all day on the couch, and then maybe make some dinner? I know we said we wouldn't do a traditional Christmas dinner, but it'd still be nice to take the time to cook something."
"That sounds perfect."
In the kitchen, you make pancakes with copious amounts of maple syrup, strawberries and pieces of banana strewn across your plates.
"My Mom made us pancakes every Christmas morning, you know."
"You've never told me that."
"I know. I kind of refrained from ever talking about anything festive, because I didn't want you to feel guilty."
"For making you miss out for so many years?"
"I haven't missed out, baby. I chose not to do Christmas because I love you. And that love takes precedent over everything else."
Bucky kisses you then, across the kitchen table, full and golden and so full of love you almost fall off your chair. He tastes like blueberry jam and syrup and coffee, and you wish you could bottle it up and stick a little under your tongue when you get homesick.
"What changed?"
"Hmm?"
"Why now? I would have been content to never do Christmas again, if it made you happy."
"Because I realised something, a couple of months ago. We were sat in the park, and you were laughing at that dog chasing the boomerang. The sun was making you glow, like some sort of angel, and I just knew. I can do anything with you by my side. I can't put my future on hold because of my past."
You're fighting back tears as you look at him, so happy and content. You never thought this was possible, when you first met him.
And here you are.
Celebrating Christmas, showing him your childhood traditions, making pancakes like your Mama used to. You're sat at the kitchen table as the snow falls outside and the warmth that Bucky's love brings is keeping the chill at bay.
It doesn't get better than this.
"I got you something," he murmurs almost sheepishly.
"Bucky-"
"Don't yell at me! I know it makes me a hypocrite, I know I said no gifts, I know."
You roll your eyes, but watch his every move as he gets up and leaves the room. You finish your breakfast and put both of your plates in the sink, turning on the tap so they can soak. When you turn around, Bucky has returned.
He's on one knee.
There's a ring between his fingers, glinting in the winter sun. You're both still in your pyjamas, warm and full, not quite having shaken off the heavy embrace of sleep just yet.
It's perfect.
"Maybe it's cliche to propose on Christmas day, but... I want to replace all of my old memories with new ones. Memories like this."
You walk over to him, kneeling down in front of him so your eyes are level.
"You've taught me what love is, baby. And I can never repay you for that. But I can certainly try. Every day, I can try."
There are tears dripping down both of your cheeks, Bucky's grin matching yours. The two of you are overwhelmed in the best way, unsure of how to process the gravity of what you're feeling.
"Marry me, baby. Let's do this forever."
You lunge forward and smash your lips to his, laughing into his mouth.
"Yes," you breathe when you pull away. "God, yes. A million times yes, Buck."
His arms wrap around your middle as he picks you up, twirling you in circles around the kitchen, both of you shrieking with joy.
Bucky slips the ring onto your finger when he puts you down, both of you tilting your heads to admire it.
"I love you," you murmur, leaning up to press your foreheads together. "The cold can't touch you now, baby. This love will warm us forever."
The cold can't touch him now. Love will warm him forever.
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@lizzystuffsthings <3
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dolcezzatoru · 5 months
Note
Just seen your sfw & nsfw alphabet for gojo (my current obsession) and I think your grasp of his character is really good. I'm all for he's an all or nothing type. If you break through those walls he's all in. I was wondering if you could do headcanons for how he'd be if his f partner was a virgin and not very used or comfortable with being vulnerable or exposed.
hi angelcake, i wrote a lil bit of a fic instead (sorry) !! if this doesn't answer your question, shoot me another one and i'll write some delicious headcanons instead ♡ thank you for requesting, love ♡
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𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞?
gojo satoru x virgin f!reader
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“fuck, you’re so beautiful,”
satoru nips at your neck, the two of you grinding against one another on the couch. the apartment was cold, and the only light in the room was the low light of the television reflected against you and your boyfriend. it was playing some show you two stopped watching a while ago, the quiet dialogue between two characters on-screen humming behind satoru’s soft pants.
it felt good. satoru was a little needy; his hands running all over your body, pushing his own further into yours to try and be any closer than he was now.
it felt good, you thought. or it was supposed to.
anxiety started to pull you out of what was a moment of ecstasy. you became a little too aware of it all–how his body felt on yours, the way your hands rested effortlessly onto his back, how your hands were clammy, and your lips might be chapped, and your hair might be tangled, and-
“hey now,” 
satoru catches his breath and runs the back of his hand on your cheek.
“you okay?”
his voice was soft, gentle, and concerned. it was safe. he was safe.
“i’m…um-”
your voice trailed off as your eyes darted to anywhere but his face. you settled on looking down into his lap.
“sorry. yeah, i’m fine. sorry about that,” you said.
satoru shuffled a bit more to get a better look at your face. something about the light coming off of the tv made your eyes look more watery than usual. but you had a soft blush on your face, and your lips were pouted and puffy. you looked perfect. 
“we don’t have to go any further if you don’t wanna,”
“it’s okay, satoru, really,”
“have you ever…done this before, love?”
“um, sure–plenty of times,”
your lie must’ve been bad, because satoru saw right through you. he squeezed your hand in his and laughed when he answered. 
“ah, i see, i didn’t realize i was with an expert in the field”
he was joking to make you feel better, but your face definitely got hot. you looked up to see him laughing, not daring to let go of your hand as he searched for what to say next.
“oh, shut up, satoru, i don’t know,” you make a weak attempt at defending yourself, “i’m nervous,”
your honesty makes his gaze soften into yours. he finally lets go of your hand to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you closer.
“we can go however far you want, okay?”
you nod as you feel emotions well up in your eyes.
“good to keep going, baby?”
“yeah, s’okay, satoru,”
he hums in agreement as he kisses you again, slowly working up to the pace you were at before.
it feels good. for real this time. you mean it when you think it, and you think it when you feel it. he feels good.
you stop a bit when satoru’s hand settles on the edge of your shirt, slowly lifting it. you pause as the cool air just touches the exposed skin, and satoru stops.
“is this okay?”
he’s whispering now, slowly speaking in front of your mouth as to not startle you, hurt you, or break you. simply treating you like he loves you.
you think on it for a fraction of a second, suddenly self conscious of anything you’ve ever done or been in your life.
and then you snapped back into it. satoru’s hand on your side, waiting for direction, while the other one was just underneath your jaw, holding onto your neck like he’d be lost at sea without it tethering you to him.
he was close, patient, and accepting. you figured no matter what the direction was next, he’d be okay with it. he’d listen if you were uncomfortable, if you needed to stop, if you felt self conscious; it all mattered to him in ways unexplainable. 
it’s because he did love you. he wasn’t doing these things like he loved you–it’s because already does. a lot, really. an unfathomable amount. it doesn’t matter if you wanted to fuck now or ten years down the line. it would be with you. you’d be together, and the details would just fall into place after that. he was sure of it, and you were just coming around to realizing that now.
“s’okay, satoru,”
he leaned in more to kiss you sweetly, nodding his approval for your consent as he carefully lifted your shirt off. he followed suit shortly after, taking his off with your help in solidarity. 
“god, you’re so beautiful”
this was the second time tonight he’s said that, in addition to the heaps of times the words have fallen out before today. it felt different tonight though. satoru could not be looking at you more when he said it. he said it like he was reciting a prayer–if he didn’t say those words it would kill him.
it made you bashful. you found yourself instinctively covering your exposed torso up and looking away. 
satoru took your wrists in his hand. 
you lean in to kiss him as he stands up to take off his pants, his erection suddenly obvious as his boxers try to contain it. naturally, your eyes point towards it. satoru’s quick to lift your chin to meet his line of sight.
“hey, eyes on me, sweetheart,” he smirks, “you okay?”
you’re at eye-level to his belly button, a soft white line of hair dancing down into his boxers. you hold his waist in your hands, using it to steady yourself as you rise to your feet.
“‘m okay, love, really,”
satoru kneels down to remove your pants and panties, pressing his face to your tummy to be close to you. he peppers a small parade of kisses across your waist as he gently palms your ass in his calloused hand.
he rises up to meet you again, taking your jaw in one of his hands. 
“are you still okay with this?”
his genuine care makes you melt a little, finding yourself clenching your thighs together at his sweet remarks for consent.
“mhm, please satoru, ‘m ready”
he leans in once more, kissing you a little feverishly than before, and holding your entire head in his hands as he pulls you closer to mold your body into his.
“sure, baby, just follow my lead,”
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m-musings · 9 days
Text
Crawl Out Through the Fallout with Me: Cooper "The Ghoul" Howard X Fem! Reader
A/N: never played an official fallout game in my life but i still love this man so it's time to bullshit some stuff, let's gooooooo
Word Count: 1.1k
Summary: After a fight with raiders, a argument between lovers ensues when one of them gets hurt.
Warnings: typical fallout vibes, mentions of fighting, blood and wounds, pre-established relationship, Cooper being Cooper but also being a bit ooc, this is cheesy as hell and def not canon compliant lmao
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"Damnit, (Y/n), just what the hell were you thinkin'?!"
An upset voice rang out into the evening air of the Wasteland as a pair of figures rested up inside the crumbling walls of an abandoned building.
Lit by the fading light of the sun, (Y/n) hissed in pain as her irradiated companion tried to sew a sizable gunshot wound on her arm shut.
As he passed the needle back and forth through the gash, the girl rolled her eyes with an exasperated groan as a few rivulets of blood rolled down her arm.
"Gimme a break, Coop! Did you wanna be the one to be shot?! I don't- ow!- think so!"
During a journey to find their next cash-out, the partners were ambushed by a large group of raiders & fiends. After managing to get rid of most of them, one had managed to sneak up and send a bullet flying straight for Cooper.
Noticing the weapon before Cooper could even turn to see the shooter, (Y/n) dashed over and shoved the ghoul out of the path of the shot, causing her arm to be hit instead.
Now- a few hours after killing the remaining enemies- they took shelter in a decrepit shack in order to patch themselves up in peace and rest for the night.
"I'd still be better off than you are right now. I mean, for fucks sake, darlin', I'm a ghoul. I've been through worse than just being shot at."
"Well then, that's the last time I try to be helpful. Next time, I'll sit back and relax while you get absolutely slaughtered by raiders, how about that?!"
"Go right on ahead, see if I care! Now, hold still. Can't close this cut if you keep on squirmin' around." Cooper huffed as he gave the suture one final tug before snipping the end off with a pocket knife and tying it into a knot.
After he was finished, (Y/n) rolled the pain out of her bicep before reaching into her bag to grab a somewhat clean cloth to wipe up any remaining blood.
With a sputter of her lips, she got up from her spot next to Cooper to sit upon the old mattress in the other corner of the room in order to apply a stimpak to herself. It wouldn't be enough to heal the wound completely but it would be enough for her to be able to use her arm properly.
Satisfied with the sight of her flesh knitting back together, Cooper finally relaxed in his chair as he crossed one leg over the other.
"Now don't go doin' anything that stupid again, y' hear me? Don't wanna have to use any more stims than we have to."
"I just... don't understand why you're so worked up about this. Something like this was bound to happen eventually, it's literally a warzone out here. A scar or two isn't unusual." (Y/n) griped as she fell back onto the bed while crossing her arms.
"Yeah, for someone like me it isn't. But it shouldn't ever happen someone like you. You shouldn't have to get hurt like that..." Grumbled Cooper as he leaned back against the wall.
"I'm not made of glass, Coop, I can handle a few hits."
"Don't care. You're way too valuable for me to lose."
(Y/n)'s glare softened at that, realizing the true intention behind the cowboy's scolding was worry. As Cooper sets up a small lantern on the floor to combat the growing darkness, (Y/n) watches the man with a fondness gleaming in her eyes.
"Is that what this is all about? You didn't wanna see me get hurt?" Whispers the girl as she turns onto her side.
Although the action is rather subtle, the ghoul's body visibly tenses up as he fixes his gaze away from the woman across from him.
"I never said that."
"It's clear that you thought it, though." (Y/n) chuckled as she softly grinned at the cowboy.
Heaving out an irritated sigh, Cooper hunches over to look at her as he readjusts his hat.
"What do ya wanna hear from me, sweetheart? That I care about you? That I love ya? Well, if you don't know that by now, then you might be much dumber than I thought you were."
"Hey, I resent that! You'd be lost with me and you know it!"
"Sure I would. Just like how you'd do great out there if you were all alone."
(Y/n) shakes her head with a scoff before she gets up from the mattress to walk over plop herself onto Cooper's lap after he sits back down on the beat-up dinner chair.
As she shuffles into place, Cooper places his hand on the small of her back to ensure she doesn't topple over. He silently glances at her face, analyzing her now troubled expression as she fiddles with the lapel on his duster.
Mouth opening and closing as she tries to find the words to say, she presses her lips together before finally speaking her thoughts.
"Y'know, I worry about you too... I'm always so worried that there's gonna be a day where that one gunner you miss is gonna be the one that gets you." (Y/n) admits sadly as she rests her head on Cooper's shoulder.
Cooper's eyes widen slightly and peer down at her as he begins to rub a hand up and down her arm in an attempt to comfort her.
"Hey now, look at me. That'll never happen. Not on my watch."
"What makes you so sure?"
"I got too much to fight for. I already lost one family to this nonsense and I'll be damned if you get taken away from me too. I'll fight tooth and nail before I let anything touch me or you again, understand?"
"But why? What's so special about me?"
"If I allow you to get hurt anymore, I will never be able to live with myself again. I love you, so...so much, darlin'." Cooper states with a resolute nod.
(Y/n) eyes water and crinkle with a gentle smile before she leans up to place a couple light kisses upon his charred lips, which he returns immediately upon receiving.
"I love you too, Cooper..." Mutters (Y/n) as she closes her arm around his shoulders.
With a laugh rumbling in his chest, Cooper wraps both of his hands around her waist as he holds her as close as he can.
"Your sweetness is what's gonna be the death of me one of these days, doll... Not some dumbass bullet." Cooper jokes quietly, placing a kiss atop her hair & resting his head on hers as he rocks back and forth to lull her to sleep.
Listening to the calming sound of her breathing as she slumbers, Cooper thinks about how lucky a man like him is to have found a love like (Y/n) in such a desolate situation.
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adoresol · 4 months
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♥︎ 𓂃 11:54 PM — p. wonbin
1.4k *smut ⚠︎ (sub!wonbin & fem!reader — light oral: male receiving, blowjob, handjob, boob play, nipple play, light overstimulation).
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IT HAD BEEN A WHILE since you've met with your friends. after becoming so busy with balancing work and school, coming home tired every single day. even your boyfriend had noticed, but him being the sweet boy you've always known, he never complained about it. wonbin would engulf you into a hug once you came home, letting you fall asleep in his arms and rest up as much as you needed.
“are you sure you don't mind? we haven't had time for us, i don't want you to feel like i'm neglecting you.” you muttered, a small pout forming on your lips as you spoke to wonbin. your hand reaching up to his face and rubbing the pad of your thumb against his cheek.
the way wonbin looked at you never failed to set your heart on fire, his eyes stared at you with such awe. he smiled and leaned forward to place a kiss on the top of your head. “i promise, and it's not like i'm not coming with. i want you to have fun with your friends too.”
and to say the very least, you definitely did.
catching up with your friends made all the weight from the past semester that you carried fade away in a flash, laughing at stupid jokes and shared memories. but, you couldn't help noticing how wonbin grew quiet and reserved.
when he first met your friends, it was usual for him to keep to himself. but after a year of you two dating, his interactions with your friends grew natural over time. so you knew for a fact that it couldn't have been his timidness.
meanwhile, wonbin knew that he shouldn't have been so quiet. but he couldn't help it, all of his thoughts raced to your body. he knew he shouldn't have been staring for so long, but he couldn't help it.
you wore a darker colored shirt, one that hugged your body perfectly. specifically the way that it accentuated your breasts made him yearn for you. all he wanted to do was to wrap his mouth around your tits, his tongue to swirl around your nipple while his hand would play with your other breast. to suck gently onto the skin and mark them up with his kisses.
the images clouded his head but the last thing wonbin wanted was to cut your night out together short, just because he couldn't keep it in his pants. he'd been so good at keeping himself under control for the past few weeks, as much as his body craved you, he knew yours craved sleep. wonbin knows how hard you've been working lately, and he wouldn't let his needs get in the way of it.
except for right now, it felt much harder than before. it wasn't his fault that you looked incredibly beautiful, he knew you didn't dress up this way on purpose but he felt himself put the blame all on you.
the shirt dropped down to your round tits, leaving very little to the imagination and usually he would've been slightly upset to let you go out that way because he didn't like when others stared at what was his. but, he's around to keep them in check if anyone wants to try something anyways.
from dating wonbin for so long, you picked up on his tells. wonbin never vocalizes whenever he's needy, so you end up having to figure it out yourself. for example, the way he would avoid eye contact.
“do you want anything else?” you asked wonbin, looking over to meet his eyes only for the boy to shake his head without a word or a glimpse towards your direction. he raised the glass of water to his lips and took a drink instead. or the way he'd squirm around in his seat and readjust his clothing whenever he could. from time to time, you saw your boyfriend tug down on his pants, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.
as much as you love teasing your boyfriend, you felt yourself grow just as needy as he was. the lack of sex in your lives due to busy schedules impacted you much more than you thought it would — which led to your current predicament.
wonbin's back landed on the bed, and you hovered over his body, lips encased with his. his hand quickly finding its way to your tits, cupping it in his hand with satisfaction. his tongue against yours as you deepened the kiss, your hand reaching down to unbutton his jeans. rubbing your hand against his covered cock, the boy whining in your mouth. “please..” he sighed, pulling away and looking up at you with wide eyes.
“please what, pretty?” you hummed, raising your brows at your needy boyfriend who gulped at the pet name.
“don't make me beg.” he cried, his hand tugging on your shirt. “just want you, in any way you'll have me.”
god, you thought, you couldn't even be mad at him.
quickly pulling his boxers and his jeans down to his ankles, you wrapped your hand around his cock. “pretty boy, so needy, hm?” wonbin nodded at your words, licking his lips as he watched you begin to jerk him off. he moaned at the sight, throwing his head back as your nails graced against his length in an up and down motion. finally receiving the touch he'd been aching for so badly.
your mouth watered at the sight of his cock in your hand. you bent down to his length, pressing your tongue flat against the tip of his cock while maintaining your focus on your boyfriend's facial expressions. lapping at the precum that gathered on the tip, his hips slightly thrusting up at the feeling. the way his brows furrowed and his grip on the bed sheets tightened. you couldn't help but feel pride grow inside of you from watching him, “look at me, baby,” you spoke, breaking wonbin's train of thought (or lack thereof).
you decided to give him a bit of a show, you had seen wonbin staring at your chest almost the entire time. you pressed a kiss on the side of his length, flashing a smile at wonbin before letting his cock drop to his stomach. you slowly took your shirt off, revealing your tits in a black bra with hot pink lacing. his breath hitched at the way your bra clung against your tits, almost begging to be freed.
you chuckled at his reaction, the sound of his breath caught up in his throat made you beam at him.
once you discarded your shirt, you took off your jeans, wonbin's eyes immediately landing onto the matching panties, a pink bow placed right in the middle.
leaning down, you noticed how his gaze fixated onto your tits. “take it off for me.” you told him, motioning towards your bra. wonbin's eyes glued onto yours, his hand reached towards your back, his skin brushing against yours and the feeling made him tingle.
the sight of your boobs releasing from your bra made his mouth open slightly, you laughed softly at his face. “you're so cute, 'bin.” he smiled shyly at your words, his fingers playing with the bud of your breast.
wrapping your hand around his cock and brushing your nipple against the head of his length, you felt his cock twitch in your hand and pride grew inside of you. you were just as needy to have him inside of you (but that would have to wait).
“oh, my love. you've been waiting for this, huh? been missing me all day.” you cooed, his head nodding at your words as you pressed kisses along the shaft of his length, dragging your tongue from the bottom of his cock to the top, humming at the taste of his precum. “my poor baby.”
wonbin whined at your words, his breathing becoming uneven at the way you were making him feel. he could feel all the blood rush to his dick and he felt himself seconds away from cumming. “i-i think.. i'm gonna cum.” he moaned, his legs twitching and his hips meeting your touch.
“cum for me, 'bin.” you nodded at his words, continuing the motion of jerking him off as his tip rubbed your sensitive nipples. ropes of cum shot against your chest, your mouth opening as bits of him cum landed on your lips. his moans growing louder at his release, his heavy lidded eyes watching as you licked the cum from your mouth and began wrapping your lips around his cock.
wonbin's cock seamlessly twitching in your mouth, his thighs tensing up at the overstimulation. his breaths turned into pants as he felt like another orgasm was about to be dragged out of him. “'s'too much.” he whimpered, his head lolling to the side at the feeling.
you grinned at his words, “you can take it.” you spoke, detaching your mouth from his length and your hand going under his shirt, your thumbs teasing his nipples. “you didn't forget about me, right 'bin? pretty baby already came, it's my turn now.”
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a/n — happy new year!! this was heavily inspired simply from this video <3
340 notes · View notes
lobey-scribbles · 1 year
Text
Playing Dumb - Fred Weasley X F!Reader
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summary: Fred Weasley has always had his eye on you and when Professor Flitwick sits you next to each other in Charms, he can hardly believe his luck. In a desperate attempt to get close to you, Fred decides to play dumb in Charms class.
word count: 1.1k
themes: just fluff
warnings: none
a/n: happy birthday to gred and feorge! might do a part 2!
*:・゚✧*:・゚
Fred Weasley stumbled into Charms class, out of breath and dishevelled. It turns out that despite staying up all night with George and wandering the castle with the marauder's map being one of his favourite activities, it didn't exactly mesh well with being a punctual student. Professor Flitwick paused his lesson, and gave one of those Fred-Weasley weary sighs, “Late again, I see, Fred.” he said in his usual squeaky voice.
“Very sorry, Professor,” Fred replied, giving Professor Flitwick the most apologetic smile he could muster. Before Fred could make his way to his seat, he stopped dead in his tracks. Peering around the room, he realised that Lee Jordan was no longer sitting in his usual seat. Instead, he sat next to a Slytherin student, Miles Bletchley, and was giving no effort to hide how miserable he was about it. Had Fred not been so devastated about being moved away from Lee, he would have found his predicament rather hilarious, but now he needed to figure out where he was sitting.
“Oh, Fred, can you please go sit next to miss Y/N L/N please?” said Professor Flitwick, noting the bemusement on Fred’s face. “Maybe you'll finally get some work done,” he muttered to himself under his breath before he resumed his lesson.
Fred Weasley scanned the room for his empty seat, his stomach lurching ever so slightly when his eyes landed on you.
Fred sauntered over to the empty seat next to you, determinedly ignoring the way his heart began to race in his chest. He’d noticed you in the corridor before, but he'd never had the chance to speak to you. Now, he was sitting right next to you in class, and he was determined to make the most of it.
“Hey there,” Fred said, flashing you a grin. “I'm Fred. Nice to meet you.”
You looked up at him, gave him a small smile and introduced yourself, but you didn't seem very talkative.
He really couldn't explain it, but you being as shy and reserved as you were, only made Fred’s need to be closer to you even stronger.
Fred tried to strike up a conversation, cracking a few jokes here and there, and making light of Lee’s unfortunate new seat in class. “Well, Y/N, I hope you feel lucky to be sitting next to me now instead of poor Lee. He's stuck with Bletchley, you know.” he chuckled, desperately trying to get a laugh out of you. Instead, you just gave him a polite nod and turned your attention back to Professor Flitwick.
As the class progressed, Fred tried his best to focus on the lesson and keep his eyes firmly on the textbook in front of him, and Merlin���s beard, was it impossible! It seems like no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't help but steal a glance at you, admiring your unwavering concentration and the way your fingers twirled your hair absentmindedly.
Finally, the class came to an end, and Fred and Lee met up with George and strolled to the Great Hall together for break time, plonking themselves down at the Gryffindor table. Fred’s mind was still preoccupied with thoughts of you, barely noticing Lee’s rant about his new seat, only half-heartedly piping up to express his sympathies, agreeing that it was such a shame to be separated from his best friend. George noticed his brother’s distracted state and nudged him, “What about your seat, Fredster?”
“Don’t call me Fredster!” he snapped, kicking George underneath the table, and then continuing as though he couldn't hear his brother yelp out in pain and a howl of laughter from Lee, his violent reaction being less to do with the stupid nickname and more to do with the fact that George had interrupted his daydreaming.
“Not too bad, I suppose,” appearing as nonchalant as he could about the whole thing, acting as if his stomach didn't perform backflips at the very thought of being beside you.
As the weeks went on, Fred persisted in trying to tempt you out of your shell. Fred wasn’t bad at charms by any means. In fact, he'd probably be great at if he put in the same amount of effort as he did with wreaking havoc amongst the castle. Yet, he took every opportunity he could to ask you questions in Charm class, acting as though he were struggling to get you to help him. You'd give him a look and scold him for not listening properly, turning to help him, and as you did so, your leg would brush his and a jolt of electricity would shoot through his entire body.
In the Charms class that followed, Professor Flitwick had the whole class on their feet, practising a bubble-head charm. Fred fumbled with his wand, making a complete pig’s ear of the movement, purposefully of course, and cried out in frustration, “What the bloody hell am I even doing wrong?”, his eyes darted quickly over to you to make sure you had heard him.
You rolled your eyes at him, walking over to his side, “Let me help you, Fred” and you placed your hand on top of his. If brushing your leg against his made Fred nervous, it was seriously nothing compared to how the touch of your hand on his made him feel. You directed his hand, mimicking the correct wand movement. “See, like this.”
“O-oh yes, I get it now, thank you.” he stammered, swiftly pulling his hand away from yours as if he'd just touched something scorching. He prayed that you didn't notice how hot and bothered he was and desperately tried to regain his composure.
As you were all packing up for the end of class, Fred asked Lee to wait up for him outside. Then, he turned to you sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck and asked, “I’m sure it's no secret to you by now how hopeless I am at Charms.”
“Oh, well you're not really-”
“Don’t sugarcoat it, Y/N, I'm a mess.”
You giggled, making Fred’s heart soar, he might get addicted to hearing you laugh, especially when it's because of him.
“So, with that in mind, do you think you would mind tutoring me in Charms? I completely understand if you're busy-”
“Oh, no I'm not busy at all!” you interjected, eagerly, “Of course, I’ll tutor you, Fred!” you smiled at him kindly, “Does next week sound good?”
“Yes, that's brilliant, thank you!” unable to hide the elation in his voice, “You’re amazing, you are. I owe you my life, seriously, Professor Flitwick glares at me as if my days are numbered,” drawing out another one of your melodic laughs.
Fred bid you farewell and walked out of the classroom with an undeniable spring in his step, and a goofy smile plastered across his face.
Fred stepped out into the corridor, unable to shake the giddy feeling that lingered from his conversation with you. He spotted Lee leaning against the wall, waiting for him.
“Hey, Lee!” Fred greeted his friend enthusiastically as he walked towards him.
Lee raised an eyebrow, “Don’t know what you’re so cheery about, mate, we've got Snape next.”
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shinestarhwaa · 16 days
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THE BUTLER || CHOI SAN
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This is @hwashotcheeto 's fault
Genre: Smut with a smidge of angst
Pairing: San x Fem reader
Word Count: 2.1K
Tags/Warnings: Aged-up!San (like half 30's), Butler!San, Chaebol!reader, reader has depression symptoms, oral sex (f&m), fingering, begging, daddy kink, dirty language, unprotected sex, rough sex, San knows he's hot & thicc
Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @mjyungi @bratty-tingz @sugarnspice630 @stardragongalaxy @bro-atz @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisg00dgirl @vesvosmozhno
ENJOY!
"Is there anything else I can help you with, ma'am?"
You sighed and looked at San. "Please, please don't call me ma'am, how many times do I have to ask you this, San?" He nodded. "My apologies," he spoke lowly, but he didn't budge. You sighed again. "No, San, I do not need anything, thank you." San nodded and bowed to you before exiting the room.
It wasn't your choice to have the servant, the butler or whatever you might call it to babysit you for the month. You were an adult, old enough to stay home alone but your parents wouldn't let you.
Their company was big, huge in fact and there have been bad rumors going on about insurance fraud. You know they are just rumors but a part of the media was dragging your family, making you - their only daughter - an easy target. Therefore they wouldn't leave you alone.
They tried to hire a bodyguard for you but you would not let them, so they asked San - the butler that has been working for your parents for years - to be your babysitter. God, you hated it. You did not hate him, but the whole situation of still being babied by your parents just made you extremely frustrated. You're 21 and they have been treating you like you were barely a teenager since forever.
San hasn't done anything wrong. He's a perfectly respectful and hardworking man. He doesn't exactly baby you but calling you ma'am frustrates you too. Actually, everything frustrates you at the moment. You barely even left the house, barely left your room.
But you didn't notice San has been actually worried about you. You laid in bed a lot and he was sure the whole situation was becoming too much for you. You often took care of your parents when they were around, helping them with the company and talking to them so they wouldn't go insane. But who takes care of you?
So he has been cooking his ass off, cleaning his ass off, even suggesting going for walks with you, but you declined. You felt bad for saying no, knowing he was trying to do his job, but you just figured you'd be better off on your own.
It was week 3 now and you were bored out of your mind and most importantly; horny out of your mind. You were aware that when women are ovulating they're more likely to get horny but man did you want some dick right now. You pouted as you laid in your bed, squeezing your thighs together and whimpering at the tingly sensation that was far from enough.
You heard some rumbling in the kitchen downstairs, reminding you that San is right there. And then it hit you. You are home alone with him. San is right there.
With light footsteps you made your way down the stairs into the kitchen. San looked up and smiled. "You're out of your room? It's good to see you," he kindly smiled. You nodded and watched him unload the dishwasher for a few minutes.
"Sannie?" You spoke with a pout, taking a few steps towards him. "What is it?" "I'm feeling bored..." You batted your eyelashes at him as you came closer. "Bored? Well what do you-" "Do you wanna play with me?"
You traced the veins on San's forearms as you bit your bottom lip. "Play with you? What do you want to-"
Before he could say anything else your lips were attached to his. San was startled and his instinct was to push you back but when you pushed him against the counter, breasts pressed up against him he gave in. San didn't get intimate with anyone that often, always busy working for your family, but he definitely didn't expect getting intimate with that said family. But God, he could not resist.
His hands grabbed the back of your thighs and he lifted you up on the counter of the kitchen island. Your lips moved together smoothly and your hands were all over each other. You touched his strong biceps, bulging out of his white dress shirt. Just the thought of him manhandling you with his big strong arms made your legs give out.
You moaned into his mouth and wrapped your legs around him, heels digging into his lower back as he laid you down on the counter and pressed kisses down your neck and along your exposed collarbones. He shoved up your t-shirt and groped your breasts. ''Fuck, Y/N, I shouldn't be doing this.'' ''No, fuck, please daddy, you should, you should, please, you should,'' you begged him, grasping the waistcoat hugging his form.
His longue latched on your bare breasts and moaned as he licked and sucked on your nipples. ''But Y/N, fuck they'll kill me, they're gonna kill me dead.'' ''They don't have to know, please, they don't need to know anything. I'm just so lonely. I know you can help me, right San? You'll treat me nicely?''
You looked at San with big puppy eyes and he was a goner. Your pants and panties disappeared and he spread your legs open. He practically gawked at your wet, awaiting pussy. ''Daddy, please,'' you begged again, pulling him closer. He loosened his tie and waistcoat and unbuttoned a few buttons of his dress shirt before he dove inbetween your legs.
You threw your head back and let out a high pithced moan when he runs his tongue from the bottom of your pussy up to your sensitive clit, wrapping his soft lips around your clit and sucking it harshly.
“Please, I need…” you sigh. ''What do you need?'' San asked as he pulls away from your cunt. ''Need your fingers too, want both, want it so bad,'' you whined. San smirks and brings two of his fingers to your mouth, telling you to suck them. You smirk and take his fingers into your mouth, coating them with your saliva.
After a little while he pulls his fingers out and brings them to your pussy, slowly guiding them in. He soon sets a rhythm of licking and sucking on your clit and fucking his two fingers deep into your core. Your moans got gradually louder, your thighs shaking over his shoulders. ''Daddy! O-Oh my god, Daddy, please, please, please!''
San notices you’re close because he can feel your walls spasm and clench around his fingers. He started stroking your clit with his velvet tongue as he curled his fingers inside your cunt until you're screaming his name, arousal seeping out of you.
San rides out your orgasm and removes himself from you, licking his fingers off. ''Fuck, you taste like heaven, Y/N, such a beautiful little pussy,'' he sighed. ''Bet you've been dying to have a taste of my young pussy, right daddy?'' you panted, teasing him. He smirks and pulls you off the counter, putting you down again.
''You're such a little minx, aren't you?'' he grunts into your ear as he grabs your ass from behind. He unbuttons his pants and pulls the zipper down, whipping his thick cock out. ''You want daddy's cock in your pussy, don't you? You want it so badly, you want a real man to show you what pleasure feels like. Guys your age can barely last 9 seconds inside a pussy like yours,'' he spat.
You giggled and wiggled your ass for him. ''Put it in, daddy, please put it in, play with my pussy, pretty please?'' ''Fuck, you're driving me insane,'' he grunted before pushing his dick inside of you. He let out a long, low moan as he watched himself bottom out and push in again. ''Look at that, fuck,'' he whispered.
A whiny, breathy moan slips past your lips as you let your head rest on the cool marble countertop. You can see San in the reflection of the window. San's eyes are fixated on your ass, jaw clenched and brows furrowed. ''Daddy~,'' you whined out, ''Go faster, this is not enough!''
''Such a little... Fuck, I'll give it to you baby, I'll give it to you so good.'' San begins to pick up his pace, thrusting into you faster and rougher each time. You could feel yourself slowly fall apart, breathing becoming ragged as he slams into your cunt, groaning your name. His hands are over your ass, gripping it tight as you clench on his cock. ''Daddy, daddy!'' you cried out. ''Oh? You like that huh? Is this finally enough for the little rich girl? Is she finally satisfied?''
''Oh my fucking God, fuck me, fuck me harder!'' you cry out, trying to grasp the countertop, but it's too slippery. You have no choice but to let him abuse your pussy as you lay there moaning his name. ''I'm gonna fuck you so good that that little young pussy of yours will remember the shape of my cock and nothing, fucking nothing will feel as good as I do, is that clear?'' You whine in response but it is not enough for San.
''Am I fucking clear? You're my little fucktoy now, yeah? You'll be a good little girl, letting me fuck your pussy, hm? Speak.'' ''Yes, Y-Yes! Yes I'm your fucktoy, just use me, just fill me up, fill my pussy, please daddy, fill me up nicely, please I want it, I need it!'' you moan out, feeling yourself get close to climaxing again.
''Yes baby, God I'll fuck you nice and full, you'll carry that cum for me won't you? You're so good to me, such a good little pussy for me to fuck.'' He thrusts into you a few more times before he's groaning in your ear and stuffing you full with his hot cum. He thrusts again and sends you over the edge, body trembling with pleasure.
San rides out your orgasm and you moan and whine. He pulls his cock out and watches your pussy clench around nothing. San smirks and places a few kisses on your shoulder. ''What a good little girl can do, hm?''
''I-I can do so much more, daddy, I can, please I want more,'' you begged. San cocked an eyebrow as he took his tie off. ''Well let's go then.''
⋆ ★
San wasted no time in getting you to your bedroom and stripping you and himself naked. His arms were big and muscular, just as his chest. His pecs and abs were strong and prominent. To die for.
You were seated on the floor, your wrists bound together with his tie. San's cock was hard and stood proudly against his pelvis. Your mouth watered at the sight of the thick veins running over the shaft and the head glistening with pre-cum. His balls big and heavy and waiting to release in your mouth again.
"Open up, Y/N," he breathed, cock in his hand as he tapped you on the lips with it. You opened your mouth and let him enter. He slid it in slowly and nearly completely. You could feel your pussy clench around nothing as you slowly bobbed your head up and down his shaft.
His hand held your hair back in a perfect ponytail and soon enough he pulled it, making you moan around his member. "That's a good little girl. Love daddy's cock, don't you? Bet you've never had a cock like this before? So big...So thick," he smirked. You moaned again and moved your head faster.
You pulled off his cock to breathe, panting loudly. A few strings of saliva mixed with pre-cum attached your lips and the tip of his cock. Before he could say anything you hungrily took his thick balls into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and sucking on the sack.
''Oh my fucking God,'' he moaned out, ''Baby you don't know what you're doing to me.'' You moaned, wanting to use your hands on him too but they were still tied behind your back.
''Baby I won't last like this, you're gonna make me cum.''
A mischievous smile played on your lips and you took his cock back into your mouth. Seconds later his hips bucked forward and he spurted his cum into your mouth, coming with a loud groan.
''God, you're insane,'' he panted as he watched you swallow his load and lick your lips. ''In the best possible way, daddy.'' ''I should get the kitchen cleaned up,'' he sighed. ''Why don't I help you with that and as a reward I'll let you fuck me again after?'' ''Sounds like a deal, babygirl,'' he smirked.
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fictionalsownme · 19 days
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"Touch" | season 6 ! keigo takami x reader | WIP BLURB
Hiya! So I've noticed recently that I almost never post my writing on here, even though I write all the time. I'm just so easily distracted I almost never finish things, but I thought I'd start sharing what I do have so some of these little bits can see the light of day hehe :) here's a bit a wrote about how hawks' and the reader's dynamic might shift after his burn and after his personality changes a bit!
disclaimer: this blurb is unedited and unfinished. just wanted to share some WIPs! Enjoy!
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Recently, Hawks— Keigo— had been touching you even more than normal.
You would say he’s finding excuses for physical contact, but there’s not even reasons most of the time.
It’d been about a week since you started riding around with him, Jeanist, and Endeavor. All Might, Deku, and some other pros were part of the efforts, too.
Being a civilian, you knew you brought them more risk than aide, but you weren’t totally useless. And now Hawks— now Keigo— insisted on you being by his side.
It’s not as if you and him had never touched before. In the year you’d known him and worked for him, the two of you had actually gotten really close. And when his name was revealed to the public, he asked you to start calling him that all the time.
No one else, just you. It was taking some getting used to.
It wasn’t long after that the touching started. The near constant physical contact.
A steady hand at your back seemed to be his favorite. But there were other motions too. Touching your arm, playing absently with the edge of your jacket, nudging his shoe with yours. Even just keeping you within arms length seemed to be a must.
Not that you didn’t like it. You definitely did. Each touch was so warm and protective, it made you lightheaded. And in these times… any comfort was a blessing.
You figured that’s why he’d been doing it. Just basic coping, nothing more. You understood. Before all this mess, before he’d been burned, you had always been the first to offer hugs and reassurances. You’d even held hands once or twice. Platonically, of course. But nothing like this.
It wasn’t just the physical nature of your relationship changing, either.
He had this air about him when you were near. It simmered when he talked to you, when he touched you or looked in your eyes. An almost… protectiveness. Possessive.
It was the same with his name. He hadn’t asked a single other person to call him Keigo, and no one did. Except you. And he was adamant about it.
You were flattered, and happy to do this for him. But you were a bit embarrassed to admit that you’d been struggling to adjust. You kept using his hero name by mistake. At first he’d just corrected you with an unreadable expression, then started to tease you about it, but now he’d resorted to waiting until you got it right to respond at all. Even though he’d hadn’t been as outwardly playful since he’d been burned, you knew he wasn’t actually mad at you or anything. Another change you understood. He was being more authentic to who he was. More reserved and quiet and thinking. Again, an adjustment to be sure, but you were happy.
You didn’t mind this slightly new dynamic. In fact, you were hopelessly in danger of falling even more in love with him than you already were, the poor man.
You swore that if he slid his palm over the expanse of your back one more time, tenderly whispered your name like that, gave you instructions with a warm, grounding touch… you were going to lose it and confess on the spot.
You stumbled when one of the incapacitated villains stuck their foot out to trip you as you walked past. You glared at him. Tied, gagged, beat up, and still trying to cause shit.
You kicked at his foot.
“Come stand over here,” called Hawks’— fuck, Keigo’s— still slightly raspy voice.
You gave the villain one more stink eye, and came to stand next to where Keigo was leaning against the car. His hand went to your back immediately. Warm even through his glove and your sweater.
It truly concerned you how normal that was starting to feel. How disarming.
He gently rubbed your back with his thumb, his palm flat against your spine, waiting silently for Jeanist and Endeavor to come back with instructions for the goons.
The feeling of his hand… strong and grounding like an anchor… your eyes slid closed after only a few moments.
Like you said, lately comfort was desperately needed and hard to come by. You kept your back straight, clutching your bag to your chest, savoring the feeling of your best friend. There to keep you safe.
When your eyes opened, they slid over to him on instinct. He was watching you.
You cheeks flared but you kept his gaze. He wasn’t… anything really. Not happy or upset or surprised. He just looked back at you, his hand still against you.
God you swore… sometimes you were so ridiculously close to just grabbing him by the stupid jacket and kissing him senseless. Just to feel it, to feel him, to see what he would do. To see if it would really ruin your life like you told yourself it would.
This somewhat new side of him was intriguing to say the least. Not afraid of silence, of a blank expression, of showing he was thinking. Before his burn and the collapse of society, his training kept his expression in a claustrophobic range of cock-sure grin to open laughter. The only exception was when he was squaring off against villains, or simply too tired to mask himself properly. The later was still rare, however. He only ever willingly stopped presenting when the two of you were alone, and you were proud to say you’d gotten very good at seeing beneath it all.
But things were different now. He didn’t bother to hide. As his friend, it was a breath of fresh air, and it was nice to see no one else seemed to mind either. He still laughed and smiled and made stupid quips. But he didn’t bother to be someone he wasn't.
But he’d been changing too, inside. Everyone had. Less hero and more man. Maybe that’s why he’d asked you to start using his name.
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bimobuddy · 2 months
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Duckling
SFW Hazbin tk fic
Lee!Charlie, Ler!Lucifer
Obviously it should go without saying, but just in case, this is a strictly platonic father-daughter relationship
Summary: Lucifer reminisces about what moments he did get to have with Charlie, though upon realizing there's not many, he decides to make some more
I'm in my feels, I'm projecting :D sorry
Charlie looked up from her list of things to do around the Hotel, spotting her father. Deciding to take a break, she set the list down and jogged up to him. "Oh, dad! I was planning on watching this movie later, if you maybe wanted to watch it with me?" She asked, hopeful. Lucifer smiled up at his daughter, apologetically and took her hands. "Of course I would, Kiddo, but I'm in the middle of a project with my duck figurines. Maybe tomorrow though."
Her heart sank a little but she smiled back with a small nod. "Yeah, yeah that's no issue at all, Dad, it's okay. Tomorrow works." She gently tugged her hands away, picked up her list, and went back to work.
Lucifer couldn't help but feel bad turning her down. He did want to spend time with his little girl, but he also really wanted to finish this project. He was so close to being done with it, and it had to be perfect.
He headed back up to his room, shrugged his jacket off, and set his top hat on the rack nearby. As he sat down at his desk and picked up the duck figure, he thought back to the last time he had actually spent time with Charlie.
-
"Chaaaarlie~! Where aaare youuu~?" The king sang out. A small giggle sounded from behind him. Of course he knew where she was, but he couldn't catch her too soon. It would spoil the fun.
He placed his hands on his hips and stayed turned around. "I guess I'll never find my little duckling at this rate. What a shame." He heard quiet shuffling behind him as a certain little Princess tried to sneak away. He turned around quickly and playfully growled, "Come back here!" She squealed and tried to run, but he was quick to scoop the child up, tickling her tummy and kissing her cheeks.
She squealed and giggled, trying to push her father's face away. "Dahaddy noho! I have ihit, I'll gihive it bahack!" Lucifer stopped with a smile, and held his hand out. The child reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a little duck figurine, decorated to look like herself. She placed it in his hand with a soft pout, which quickly went away as he kissed her forehead.
"It's not finished yet, Duckling, but you can play with it when I'm done, okie dokie?"
She smiled back at him. "Okie dokie."
-
His eyes drifted to the old, faded, wooden duckling he had just been thinking about. It had been nearly two hundred years since then, leaving the paint cracked and faded, the dress tattered and worn, and the pig tails frizzy and a little messy.
He looked down at the duck in his hand. It also was made to look like Charlie. Only this time it had her bright red suit and ponytail.
Wow... Nearly two hundred years since I actively spent time with Charlie, and the one time she asks me to do something with her, I say no and instead opt to spend that time with a wooden representation of her.
He sighed, set the figurine down, scooted back from his desk, and left his room to go find his real daughter. As expected, she was back to working, looking down at her clipboard as she had just checked something off her list.
He walked up behind her and gently latched onto her ribs, just under her arms, grinning as she squealed and immediately dropped, her knees giving out due to shock; something she got from him. He followed her down, continuing to tickle her ribs and sides.
"I gotcha, Duckling!" He smiled, watching a familiar playful light return to her eyes. "Dahahad nohoho! Stahahap!" She squealed, pushing at his face the same way she used to. Lucifer tickled down her side, then skittered across her tummy, chuckling as she curled up into a ball around his hand, giggling.
She started to fight back more, pushing and gently slapping at his hands, while Lucifer just pushed back at hers and batted them out of the way to pinch at her ribs, earning another loud squeal that would dissolve into giggles.
He summoned his wings, reaching them over his shoulders to playfully brush at her tummy, neck, and ears. Charlie's giggles turned squeaky as she tried to swat him away. "Stohohop stohohop nohoho! Dahahad thihis ihihisn't fahahair! Wihihings are cheheating!" Lucifer chuckled at this. "Cheating? I wasn't aware there were rules suddenly." "Thehere ahahare, I'm thehe prihincess ahand I mahade them juhust nohow, ahand you're cheheheating!" The king laughed at this. She definitely took after him.
When he finally let up, she was still giggling, trying to calm herself down from the sudden attack. Lucifer helped her up, and started to tug her in the direction of the lobby. "Welp, come on, you said you had a movie to show me- Ah!" As soon as he mentioned the movie, Charlie raced ahead of him, now being the one to pull him toward the lobby. Easier for her since he was a full head shorter than she was.
Charlie practically tossed the surprised king to the couch and looked through her bag to find the movie she had been talking about. "Vaggie got a friend to bring it here, it's called 'Finding Nemo,' and this is what we're going to watch," she slide the tape into the weird VCR creature Alastor had made, then looked back at him, "Okie dokie?"
Lucifer gave a fond smile. "Okie dokie, Duckling."
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golbrocklovely · 6 months
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a witching hour // sam golbach
A/N: so i actually thought of this fic as a colby fic first, but i needed a fic idea for sam and figured this one worked well for him as well. idk if you've ever seen halloweentown two, but there is a party scene where kalabar turns everyone into what their costumes are, and that's kinda what this one is like. except with a bit of sexy twist lol hope you enjoy and happy 13 nights of halloween !!
prompt: something is incredible off at sam and colby's halloween party. everyone is acting like their costumes, and nothing makes sense. and then you run into sam… dressed as a vampire. || fem!reader x sam golbach
trigger warning: vampire!sam, cursing, drinking, party scene, mentions of blood and killers but you don't see any of that, blood drinking obviously, crush-confession, twist ending?, manipulation powers used on reader, possessive language used by sam, also he's a bit of a dick in this lol but only slightly
word count: 3381
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I constantly run late to everything: meetings, work, important events, and on this night... parties.
It was Sam and Colby's annual Halloween bash. After yet another successful Hell Week, the boys were throwing an all-out banger with every influencer in sight. And I, like usual, ran late to the party.
I'm not sure if you can be late to a party like this, but my texts from Sam and Colby said otherwise.
My excuse this time? I couldn't figure out my costume. I couldn't decide between two costumes, so I ended up going as a witch. Basic, I know, but classic. I finally called an uber, after pregaming a little at my apartment, and headed over to their place. On the way over, a flash of green lightning lit up the sky for a brief moment, in the same direction as their house. I stared at the window, puzzled. There's no way only one flash of thunder would happen if it was going to rain. Especially being green. It must have been a light show or fireworks nearby.
I got dropped off at the front of their house, sending them a quick text that I was outside. As I got to their gate, where usually there would have been a line with a security guard, there was nothing. Maybe I wasn't late after all and instead was super early. Checking the flyer they sent out, that wasn't true. It was already after midnight, and the party started at ten.
I walked into their property, shutting the gate behind me. I expected to see tons of people out front, since that usually was the case; but there was no one. The music was still playing loudly in the house, so there must have been people inside. As I walked towards the front door, I passed by a pile of Barbie dolls.
Who would bring a bunch of Barbies with them?
I glanced at the dolls, bending down, and picking one up. She was very pretty, but her outfit was unlike other Barbie fits I had seen before. Something about it was very revealing for a kids' toy. Granted, the last time I played with Barbies was when I was 10 so maybe my memory wasn't proof enough.
I stared at the doll's face a bit longer. Something about it was so familiar. She looked like someone I knew in the eeriest way. Staring at it too long, I thought I saw it blink. I lightly dropped the doll on the ground, standing back up again.
Just when I was about to open the front door, a soft 'meow' echoed behind me. I turned around and saw two cats, one all black and then another one.... that was pink.
Who the hell would dye their cat pink?
I wanted to reach out and pet them, but they scattered from the noise in front of me. The front door had opened on its own. I stepped forward, walking into Sam and Colby's home.
The place was completely trashed.
Furniture was ripped up, the mirror was smashed in, tables flipped over, cups all over the ground. It looked like a stampede ran through the house. I walked over the broken glass, looking around for anyone. I could see out the back door that no one was there either. Or if they were, they were hiding.
"Sam? Colby? Guys?" I called out, trying to reach for a light.
"Don't do that!" Responded a soft voice from a closet nearby.
I turned around and saw a friend of mine, Sarah, dressed as Rapunzel. She waved me over, opening the door quickly. I jumped over the broken furniture and made it over to her.
"Sarah, what the hell happened?" I asked as she closed the door.
"I'm sorry, you must have me mistaken for someone else. My name is Rapunzel." She smiled.
I rolled my eyes. "Okay, very funny, Sarah. But tell me. What happened? Did someone break into the house?"
"I don't really remember everything that happened. Everyone was outside, having fun. It was like the lantern festival! And then, a witch appeared on top of the house and yelled out something. It must have been a spell of some sort. And everybody started running." Sarah gasped, recounting the tale.
"How is that possible? And lantern festival? Why are you taking this costume to heart? I don't think this is the time for that." I glared, annoyed.
"This isn't a costume. This is how I always dress." She argued quietly.
"Rapunzel!" Someone yelled from behind the door. "Let me in! It's Velma."
"What's the password?" Sarah questioned, raising up a frying pan in defense.
Where the fuck did you get a frying pan from?
"Scooby snacks." Replied the voice.
"Oh okay," Sarah opened the door politely. "It is you Velma! I just had to be sure."
"You can never be too safe out there." Alice, another friend of mine, responded. I glanced up and down at her costume: Velma. From Scooby Doo.
I huffed, "Okay, you both seriously need to tell me what the fuck is going on?"
They both gasped. Sarah covered her ears lightly, in unison they hushed, "Language!"
"You're kidding me, right?" I deadpanned.
"Who are you?" Alice questioned.
"This is.... uh," Sarah started, then turned to me, smiling. "You actually haven't said your name."
"I'm Y/N..... we've known each other for like five years?" I scowled.
"We have?" They replied.
I rubbed my temples, feeling like my brain was going pop out of my eyes from how annoyed and confused I was. "Alright, can either one of you explain what is happening right now? Quickly."
"I can't remember much, but I've been searching for some clues while I was running around the house. What I remember happening was a witch of some kind appeared on top of the roof-" Alice began.
"Said some form of spell, and everyone started running? Yeah, 'Rapunzel' told me that already." I quipped.
"It wasn't just any spell, it was spell turned everyone into their costumes... whatever that means." Alice stated, putting her hands on her hips.
My face dropped. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Oh! Green lightning flashed over the sky when she said the spell!" Sarah jumped, excitedly. "She must have been an evil witch."
"Witches aren't real. It most likely was a trick of light, kind of like what magicians use to hide their tricks." Alice mentioned.
"I saw the lightning on my way over here...." I shook my head, sighing. "There's no way this is real. You guys must be pranking me or something. Is this Sam and Colby's doing?"
"I don't know who a 'Sam' or 'Colby" is." Sarah replied innocently.
"The guys that invited you to this party??" I pulled out my phone, pulling up a picture that one of them had posted on their snapchats. "These guys!"
"The vampire one went upstairs, and the pirate one is outside fighting a prince in the backyard." Alice pointed out, pointing to Sam, and then Colby.
"Fighting? What do you mean by that?" I furrowed my brow.
"With swords." Alice said plainly.
"Oh no! Your hand is bleeding!" Sarah gaped, gazing at Alice's hand.
"I must have cut it looking around for clues." Alice commented.
"What clues are you even...." I grumbled, trailing off and glaring up at the ceiling.
Sarah wrapped her hair around Alice's hand, holding it lightly. She then began to sing. "Flower, gleam and glow..."
Her hair began to light up slowly, starting from her scalp and eventually ending at the ends of her braided hair.
I can only imagine how expense that wig was.
Sarah pulled her hair away from Alice's cut... and it was gone.
I blinked. "I'm sorry, am I super drunk right now, or did your hair just heal her cut?"
"Jinkies..." Alice whispered, staring at her hand and blushing.
I took a deep breath, needing to get out of this closet. "I'm gonna go find Sam."
"He's a vampire, right? My mom warned me about men with sharp teeth. Be careful." Sarah informed.
"Right..." I opened the closet door, turning back around for a moment. "Hey Alice? I mean, Velma?"
"Yes?" She asked.
I grabbed her glasses off her face, dropping them onto the floor.
Sarah, Rapunzel, whatever, frowned dramatically. "Well, that wasn't very nice.
"My glasses.... I can't see without my glasses." Alice, Velma, whatever waved her hands around, trying to find where I dropped them.
"You don't even wear glasses! Oh my God, you guys are the worst!" I groaned, stepping out the closet and shutting the door.
I rushed over to the stairs, needing to get upstairs as soon as possible. As I reached the top, I gazed down over the railing. I watched as someone dressed as Ghostface ran after.... Britney Spears.
Britney Spears was at this party? Like 'Baby One More Time' Britney? There's no way. Maybe they weren't joking about the witch turning everyone into- NO. This is all some weird joke, probably pulled by Sam and Colby because of how often I'm late.
This isn't happening, this isn't happening, this is NOT happening.
I opened the bedroom door to what used to be Colby's room. I wanted to see the entire backyard from a safe distance. The room was dark, the only light coming from outside by the drawn curtains. I raced over to the windows, looking around outside. The backyard was equally as trashed.
A man-wolf monster stood on top of the slide for the pool, letting out a deep, animalistic howl. By the basketball courts, Colby was sword fighting with a guy dressed in a prince costume. Other people, or characters, were hiding around, peaking out occasionally from their spots. And I swore for a moment I saw someone fly away on a broom stick.
"What the fuck?" I whispered, my eyes widening at the scene.
"It's dangerous out there." A familiar voice rang out.
I jumped, a squeak leaving my lips as I turned around. In the shadows of the room was Sam, gazing at me mischievously.
"Oh my God, Sam. You scared the shit out of me." I clutched my chest, taking a deep breath. "What the fuck is going on?"
"A witch did this to us." Sam replied casually.
"That's what Alice and Sarah said. That a witch turned everyone into their costumes. Wait, how do you remember?" I inquired.
He shrugged, stepping towards me. "I'm just a generic vampire. So I guess I remember everything, and I'm still me."
"And since Colby dressed up as a pirate, he thinks he's a swash-buckler?" I joked half-heartedly.
"I guess so." Sam chuckled.
I questioned, "How long will this last?"
"An hour. So, in ten minutes it will be over." He confirmed, crossing his arms tightly.
I sat down on the edge of the bed, "Oh, well that's good. Since I think I saw Ghostface trying to kill Britney Spears."
"That would be such a waste of blood..." Sam's voice deepened.
I leaned away from his voice, "That was kinda freaky of you to say."
He smirked. "I can't help it. I'm a vampire."
"For ten more minutes. Maybe stay over there until this is all over." I hissed, uncomfortable.
"Why?" He leaned towards me, still far away, "You think I'm gonna bite you?"
"Probably." I teased.
Sam shook his head. "I would only do that if you asked me to."
“Well that's not gonna happen. So, let's stop talking about it.” I sassed.
"I think I can sit next to you though." His body appeared next to mine, sitting on the edge of the bed.
I jumped up, turning to him. "Jesus! You have fucking speed abilities?"
He hummed, "I guess so. You know what other powers I have?"
"No, what?" I jeered slightly.
"I can make people do what I say." He grinned wickedly, his fangs shining in the light.
I raised an eyebrow at him, "How do you even know that?"
"I told all the people hiding in this room to leave and go somewhere else. Some of them are outside in the backyard." He answered.
"Well, that was a little rude of you to do." I narrowed my eyes.
He scoffed. "This is my house. I'm allowed to kick people out of it."
"I guess you can. But maybe be a bit more conside-" I started.
He cut me off, his tone changed. "How would you feel if I drank your blood?"
"What?" I turned and looked at him.
His eyes caught mine, and suddenly I was entranced. "How would you feel if I drank your blood? Be honest."
The truth came out of me easily, I couldn't stop it from slipping from my lips. "I wouldn't mind it."
"And why is that?" He continued, standing up.
"Because I've had a crush on you for a while. Plus, vampires are really hot. And you as a vampire is, like, extra hot." I admitted in a daze.
"Wow...." Sam beamed, pulling his gaze away. "Now that's insane."
The moment I could think for myself, I spun around covering my face. "Oh my God, Sam! Why would you make me say that?!"
"I didn't make you say anything! I just made you tell the truth." He explained defensively, almost jokingly.
I whined, "Still! You didn't have to make me do that."
"So... do you want me to bite you?" He asked again.
I turned back to him, pissed. "No, I don't."
"Really?" His eyes somehow caught mine again, and I was lost. "Be honest."
"I would totally be into it," I squeezed my eyes shut as Sam looked away smugly. "Oh my God, you suck."
"Only if you want me to...." He teased.
"That's not..." When I opened my eyes again, his were already boring into mine. I felt lightheaded, and immediately could barely think. "Fun...ny."
"Get closer to me." He ordered.
My body moved without my permission, stepping up to Sam. I could feel his warmth radiate against my skin from how close we were together.
"Do you actually have a crush on me?" He queried.
I nodded my head. "Yeah, I think so."
"You think so?" His hands trailed up and down my arms, soothingly. "Would it be a bit stronger if I bit you?"
"It would." I revealed, unable to lie.
"Okay then. Good to know," he snickered. "Tilt your head and show me your neck."
I followed Sam's command, tilting my head to the side and allowing him more access to my neck. Sam's hold around me tightened, his mouth lowering down until he was almost against my neck.
"I'm not gonna hurt you, Y/N. I would never hurt you," his voice was just above a whisper. Sultry and seductive. "Also.... I like you too."
I exhaled, "Wha-?"
Suddenly his fangs sunk deep into my neck. A soft wince escaped my throat, my body tensing up. I gripped onto his arms, my nails almost digging in. It was a bit painful but exhilarating at the same time. I felt high, each breath feeling like a rush of dopamine.
Sam moaned against my neck, removing his mouth for a second. His tongue lapped at my skin, getting all of the extra blood that fell from his mouth. "Fuck, you taste heavenly."
"Sam, I think you shou-" I mumbled, my voice raspy.
He plunged his teeth back in, a harsh gasp falling from my lips. I thought of pushing him away, but instead my hands pulled him in more. My vision began to blur, and my legs could barely stay up on their own. I felt my legs give out, but Sam held me up, his torso crushing into mine.
"Don't worry, Y/N, I got you. I'll never let you go. You're mine, forever." He growled.
"S-Sam." I choked.
My eyes began to flutter, my breathing slowing down to an almost halt. And still, he continued to drink and drink. I felt like I was floating and falling all at the same time. And I didn't even care. It felt so good to be in his arms, to have him consume me.
I could hear a soft whisper in the distance. It sounded familiar but was muffled. It grew louder and louder by second, saying the same thing over and over again. Finally, as it sounded closer, I could make out what it was saying: my name.
And then like a freight train, someone screamed it. "Y/N!"
My eyes popped open, focusing immediately on Sam's face. He was looking down at me concerned, almost in a panic.
"Y/N, oh thank God. I thought we were gonna have to call 911 or something." Sam sat back on his knees, his chest heaving.
I glanced around as my eyes adjusted to the light. I was in Colby's room, but from an angle I wasn't used to. I tried to sit up, suddenly realizing I was on the floor. Sam propped up an arm around me sitting me up and leaning me against the couch.
"Wha... happened?" I uttered, rubbing my neck.
"Well, we were all downstairs partying, and you said you didn't feel good all of sudden. So we both came up here, and I went to use the bathroom. And when I came out, you were passed out on the floor." He responded, worried.
I squinted at him, confused out of my mind. "So... there wasn't a witch that turned everyone into their costumes?"
He blinked. "Should I still call 911? How hard did you hit your head?"
"No. No, I'm okay." Sam helped me up slowly, still propping me against the couch, "I must have had one hell of a dream when I passed out."
"Are you feeling okay? Tell me, seriously." He looked into my eyes.
I glanced away quickly, "Yeah, I'm... fine. I don't even feel drunk. What time is it?"
He checked his watch. "It's 1:05."
"After midnight..." I realized, muttering.
He furrowed his brow. "What?"
"Nothing. I'm okay Sam. Really. You know how I can get sleepy after I drink too much. Maybe that's what happened." I tried to reassure.
"Yeah maybe..." He trailed off.
"I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick." I stated, standing up completely.
Sam stepped towards me. "Do you need help?"
"No, I'm okay." I grinned at his nervousness, "Seriously, I'm fine. Don't worry."
I trudged over to the bathroom, leaning against the sink to collect my thoughts.
So.... that was all a dream I had while passed out? Holy shit, I'm never drinking again.
I looked up, scanning my face slowly. I looked the same as I did when I left my house. Except, I had no recollection of how I got here. I mean, in the dream I took an uber... so maybe that's what happened? But God; that dream felt so real. It truly felt like Sam was drinking my blood and draining me. And holy shit, I confessed I had feelings for him!
I sighed deeply, looking over my face once more. My eyes drifted further down and widened at the sight. Two fang marks were right by my jugular, right where Sam had been biting me.
"Sam! Can you come in here for a second?" I yelled, my breathing speeding up.
A moment later the door opened, Sam entering. "What's wrong?"
I spun to him, glaring. "Why do I have two fang marks in my neck... like a vampire bit me?"
"What are you talking about?" He puzzled.
I pointed to my neck. "Right here! What are these?"
"Y/N, there's nothing there." He informed.
"Yes there i-" I turned around, looking in the mirror. He was right. The marks were gone. My skin was clear, as if they never existed in the first place. "Oh."
"Are you sure you're okay?" Sam wrapped an arm around me sweetly, rubbing my back.
I stuttered, "Y-Yeah. I must have just saw something."
"Must have. Because like I said, there's nothing there." His gaze met mine in the mirror, "Right, Y/N?"
"Right. There's nothing there." I said dreamily.
"Good," he smiled warmly. "Now, let's get back down to the party. If you're feeling up to it, of course."
I nodded, taking Sam's hand and leaving the bedroom, following him back to the party.
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paperclipninja · 6 months
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I can't believe I forgot one of the most significant moments (imo) when I was mulling over duality etc here, and that is when Crowley goes up to Heaven to try and figure out what's going on. Actually, it's more than just multiple layers of truth. Yes there are a couple of truths at play, but as an audience we are given SO much information in this scene that it's almost hard to take it all in so I'm going to try and lay it out.
Here is what we learn in the whole scene:
Crowley knows that Muriel is a scrivener, including that they're 37th class. How?? Up until Crowley tricking Muriel into taking him to Heaven, there'd been no conversation about their angelic status
Crowley has a solid understanding of the way Heaven works and how to get around it (bees/once you're in, that they never change passwords etc)
Crowley has access to high level files
Saraqael seems to have a fondness? towards Crowley and allows him to view the trial, let's him know what happened and tells Muriel off but also not really
We get all the info about Gabriel and what happened
That Heaven wipes memories when demoting angels
When the alarm goes off because Aziraphale uses his halo, Crowley declares 'let's get back there' and directs Saraqael, 'you too' and they follow without question (though Crowley's original plan may have been to go and get Heavenly reinforcement but still, interesting the way he takes control and they just listen)
So the overarching duality in this scene - yes it is hilarious, the way Crowley gets Muriel to take him to Heaven in the first place and of course this whole situation:
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but it's also an incredible act of love.
The entire season establishes unmistakably that Crowley has some very real trauma from his experience of being in Heaven as Aziraphale and cast into the hellfire, highlighted through his reactions to JimGabriel. Not to mention his history with Heaven and all that.
So in trying to come up with a solution to the demons attacking the bookshop, knowing that Heaven no longer have any real interest in helping Aziraphale, he willingly goes up there, the place he has made his feelings about very clear, to try and find some answers.
Yes this is a demonstration of Crowley's love for Aziraphale but it's also a demonstration of his love of humans and humanity. He puts aside his own feelings, takes a real risk (because he couldn't have known how any of the senior angels might respond to him being there...could he? Or what if the Metatron had seen him there? That's another pondering for another day...) and goes to the one place he has outright said he doesn't want to go back to, just to try and find a way to protect the humans and help Aziraphale.
THIS, to me, is the entire crux of where this is all heading. It's exactly the same reason Aziraphale gets in that lift. At the end of the day, Crowley and Aziraphale love humanity and want to protect it, even if it means risking themselves.
The multiple truths of this scene actually create a distraction I think. The humour of Crowley's outfit and little prancy toes make us think this is a light and funny moment, while we're also delighted by his subversion of Heavens 'rules' and processes and the revelations about Gabriel. It is both funny and informative. It does give us hints about Crowley's past while moving the current story forward.
But I think it's easy to miss the actions here, and that is that Crowley, who was cast out of Heaven, witnessed the ease with which they continue to cast angels into hellfire, saw the callousness of the Supreme Archangel as he condemned his best friend to no longer exist, put aside all he's witnessed and experienced because of love.
This is a love story. The love story of an angel and a demon, yes, but the love story of two entities, hereditary enemies, who fall in love with humanity and whose love for one another will give them the strength to protect it. At least, that's my take on it anyway :)
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swamiiyasssss · 3 months
Text
Make-up Sex w/ Vox Pt. 1
A/N: AHH TYSM all for the love on my previous Vox post. I still can't get enough of this man . I need to rearrange his wiring system. Enjoy this angsty/smutty drabble with our TV munchkin. Also...Small reference to THAT Margot Robbie & Di'caprio sex scene in Wolf of Wall Street.;)
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NSFW BELOW
Arguments can get pretty nasty between the both of you. He’s loud, and you’ll be damned if you aren’t louder.
Although….you’d be lying if you said you didn’t get turned on by him angry and raging like that. You had a hunch he was like that too lol
Still, this recent argument, something about Alastor being ”touchy-feely” with you at a gala, ( ugh, you should let Vox just fuck him, he’s EVERYWHERE in your relationship ) made you mad. Like, really mad at him. This was certainly a first. You’ve been annoyed, teased, but never real deal pissed at the TV demon....
You’ve been aware of his insecurities, he’s a soft soul like that, but to outright insinuate you’re cheating on him?? With his nemesis of all people???? Someone slap this idiot.
You two stopped talking for the following days after the argument. A lot of side sneers, comments and eye-rolls. Certainly, a lot of pent-up energy, with nowhere to be released.
“Pass me the salt, please?” You gritt out the ‘please’, a real effort to begin peace negotiations. 
He grimaces. “Like you’re gonna pass yourself around to Him?” His eyes don’t leave the newspaper. 
“Fuck you,” Tears swell, your appetite is lost, and the day ruined. 
So this was the game he was playing? Fine, You’ll play it alright. 
You stumble back to your shared bedroom. You don’t notice him standing up, trying to apologise. He took it too far. He knew he’s been wrong, but he shares your stubborn streak. Still, he won’t loose the one anchor in his life; you. 
Too late. You’re out for blood.
 You’re gonna punish this man in the most delicious way possible, give him a taste of his own medicine. 
You manned your battle-armour, a sultry, deep purple lingerie, covering your figure with intricate lush lace patterns. And your thighs, the same one’s he literally melted for, were donned in sheer stockings. A pretty present ready to be burst opened. You were gonna make him go haywire.    
You braided your hair, wore your favourite jewellery, a necklace wit a diamond ‘V’ pendant on, a gift HE gave, and headed out to the door, ready for a ‘night out with the girls’, or so he thought.
“Where do you think you’re going?” His eyes are locked on your body, on your waist. Everywhere. Jaw dropped.
You clicked your tongue. "Friend's invited me to the club. I’ll be out late.” You made sure to sway your hips oh-so-slightly as you turned around to get your bag. “Don’t wait up for me.”
He barked a laugh. Electricity rippled around him. You smiled. This was too easy. “Wait up for you? Baby, what makes you think I’m letting you leave looking like that?” He starts coming closer.
You stand your ground. “Like what?” You bat your eyelashes; his knees almost buckle.
The hallway light dances on the curve of your waist. He teleports to you, just enough to cage you in against the wall. He claws the concrete next to your head. Blood rushes to your clit. Its ecstasy.
“Don’t fucking play with me, cute stuff.”
"You started this shit." You spit, grabbing him by his collar. His eyes flare into a neon red.
He trips on himself, almost falling on to you, and you watch his lips almost touching yours. "...You're finishing it too."
Something primal kickstarts in his wiring. HE THROWS you over his shoulder; you squeal, and teleports you both to the couch in the middle of the living room.
The leather bounces under your weight as he pushes you down. He's unbuckling his belt, taking off his clothes, muttering curses under his breathe.
"Fuck-- Aren't you just a peice of work."
" You planned this, didn't you? Slut."
"I'm gonna fuck this attitude out of you, beautiful."
You just sat there. Admiring him. Pitiying him. He wasn't ready for what you were about to say. You almost backed out, but Hell, this was too good.
As he was struggling with his buckle, you extended a leg, your high-heeled platforms already on. Your foot stops his palms on his beltline. He snarls. He looks up at you, glaring. "What are you doing."
You shake your head "I'm mad at you, Vox." With a heavy sigh, you drop the bomb. " When I'm mad, this TV demon isn't gonna touch me for a very, very long time."
His face is priceless.
It's not his fault you look so damn gorgeous in the lace, with his initial moving up and down on the curve of your chest. You're breathing hard; he's breathing harder. He needs to be in you, say sorry and be sorry in his own special way.
"And from now on, " You spread your legs farther, and you swear you can see his heart dropping in his chest. "It's nothing but short, short skirts around the house."
You curl your tongue. "Honey."
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Pt. 2 coming soon !
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