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#if he looked at me like that would do whatever he wanted
screampied · 1 day
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hey i LOVE your work and ykk ou ur toji is just like… UGHHHH
could you do a mean toji who just mocks the reader and makes fun of her while she gets off on him (like idk his thighs or whatever) or when he fucks her? i feel like you would write this very well;)
❤︎ ໋𓈒 toji mocking your moans while you ride him
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warnings. fem! reader, thigh riding & cowgirl, dirty talk, praise, ōrgasm denial, breath play, spanking. + thank you sm !! mdni
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“we’re quite handsy today, huh,” he’d mumble once his eyes flicker down towards your nude body—you suck in a single breath as he’s got you just barely straddling his lap. with an unsatisfied pout, you’re just here moving up and down against his beefy thigh—oh so desperately wishing that you were riding him instead of his stupid, stupid leg. toji’s amusement only fuels the more you frown and scowl, pawing your hands up his perfectly chiseled thighs before he snickers. “what’s the issue? my thigh not enough to satisfy the pretty girl?”
“no..” you immediately say, throwing your arms around his broad shoulders. he could hear the irritation linger on your tone before you bury your face into his neck . . a good waft of his loud cologne scent infiltrating inside your nostrils.
two rugged hands drag down your back, sending you multiple shivers from his touch before he replies in a hoarse tone. “well, that’s too damn bad,” and his chortling laugh only makes you throb from how close it’s against your ear—fuck. “actually, y’know what. i feel like bein’ nice today, baby. you want more than my thigh? how ‘bout ya jus’ ask me nicely.”
“but—”
“but—nothin’ girl, now speak,” toji utters, feeling your grinding against his thigh—grabbing your chin softly before making you stare him right in the eyes. he slyly grins, a thumb tracing down your dampened lip. “i’ll wait.. talk to me nice, girl.”
your eyes avert towards his dick, just laying there on his stomach—so ridiculously lengthy, a mere tannish color coats it - including his leaky tip that stares right back at you.
it looks so good, you wanted him inside so bad that it hurts—he could tell too, you found it hard to stay still as you made a cute attempt at rutting against him once more.
“i— i want you, ‘toji,” you claw at his body with doe lit eyes, his swollen base—so full of unused seed that you desperately yearned for it to be inside of you, filling up your pretty little womb. “want you s'bad.”
“oh i know you do, babygirl,” he rasps, he can’t help but notice the sudden boner that makes his jaw tighten. coarse big hands grip both of your hips before he gawks at you with that same tantalizingly smug grin. “can’t just spoil ya all the time though, talk more for me. i like listenin’ to that needy voice.”
ugh, you start to grow impatient and he only laughs at your sheer annoyed expense.
“please,” you murmur out in a whiney tone, slowly wrapping your clammy fingers around his length. he doesn’t stop you, he lets you touch all over him, aligning yourself with the fat weight of his cock that was just aching to be buried within you. “i wanna ride you so bad, ‘toj. need it, need your cum.”
“girl you don’t need . . . shit,” he swallows, a cold sweat breaking onto him.
you’re fucking hot—especially whenever you just take what you want, toji could have creamed his pants at just your voice and your voice alone.
you had him so hard, he sucks his teeth in total exasperation before he feels you slowly start to sink him down. “fuck, y’er such a little brat,” he mutters, feeling the warmth of your walls swallow him whole. it was a moist feeling, you were already a bit soaked—purely from riding his thigh for how many minutes, you weren’t even sure anymore, nor did you even relatively care. “ride me then, do y’er fuckin’ worst then.”
“shut up and i will.” you snap back.
he rolls his eyes, feeling your ass thrash against his lap and it makes him squeeze the plush mounds of your rear.
“eh, i really don’t like that mouth,” and he spanks you harder, this time it stings and you moan—he’s so thick that your stomach starts to seize once you feel him gradually reach into the depths of your pussy. “when you ride me, there shouldn’t be any back talk, girl,” and he grabs your chin for the nth time, pressing a sweltering wet kiss right onto your glossed lips. “. . . are we clear or do i gotta let this pussy know what goes ‘round here.”
…so cocky,
you gnaw at your lip—fighting back the urge to roll your own eyes backwards before you thrust against him harder.
it’s relentless, the brutal skin-to-skin contact makes a raw moan harshly yank from the back of your throat as your hands continue to claw on his chest.
his bare chest that was already glistening with droplets of sweat. he was so toned, his pecs—his nipples that were swollen and a sheeny pink color, you even attempt to lean in to lap your tongue against his nipple but he lightly shoves you back.
“leave those alone, slut,” and you conceal back a laugh—by 'those', he was most likely referring to his tits broad pecs. “ride me, ‘n hurry up. ‘m gonna fall asleep at this rate.”
toji never knew how to simply shut the fuck up, such a talkative man—whispering filthy sweet nothings into your ear as you’re taking every thick inch of his cock. he stretches you out so good that you’re already whimpering, eyes goggling profusely at the way his angry tip just thwacks and thwacks against your g-spot. “s-shiiit, toji,” you’d curse out in a sharp breath, continuing to drag your hips further against him at such a pace.
in and out, in and out, you’re rotating your waist a bit before he grunts lowly, head throwing back and he smacks your ass yet again, and again, and again. “fuck yeah, ride me jus’ like that. such a good girl, takin’ this dick like the good girl you are, mhm.”
“t—tojiiiii,” you’d mewl out right against the flapping shell of his ear. your cunt felt so stuffed, a straining exhale snatches from your lungs before you whimper once his base kisses against your ass. his base was so full, you only imagined how much build up cum was stored in there just for you.
“t—tojiiiiiii,” he mimics your tone as you mash against him, the sofa he sits on sinking down a bit from both weights combined. you pout once he starts mocking you, a gruff laugh dies from his throat before he squeezes your right ass cheek. “feels good, yeah? keep moanin’ for me like that.”
“shut up, s-shut uppp,” you moan, burying your face into his neck. doing so, you get a concise whiff of his cheap cologne and it smells so good. you’re a mess, spasming as your stomach continues to seize before he grabs both of your hips so that you could slam down onto him even harder. “close, toji. ‘m really close, fuck.”
he groans, feeling the hefty weight of his balls smack against your skin each time you move up, then down, then up . . . all over again. toji’s a big guy, it was no secret. the way your pussy constricts around his length, paving way for more movement . . . simply hypnotizing.
“yeahhh,” he snarls, strong hands still attached to your ass. green irises of his dilate, his eyes turn hooded for a second as he glances back at you. an entire mess, tongue all lolled out and you’re feeling it steadily about to approach. “look so fuckin’ dumb,” he points out with a subtle head shake, grabbing your chin again. “my dumb baby,” he corrects himself and your pout softens.
he’s so fucking big— you’ll point this out a million times if you have to, the stretch was so immaculate.
toji groans, pressing another saturated kiss onto your lips and you taste a brief mixture of his saliva and alcohol—presumably rum, you lean into his touch before feeling his big hands snake near your neglected tits. his growing stubble tickles against your face as you quicken your pace. so good, so fucking good.
all you can think about is that you’re getting off, you’re about to finish— gush out so much, you feel a familiar pit in your stomach arise. he feels you starting to shake and twitch, it’s cute.
“. . easy, now,” he teases, finding it adorable how whenever your orgasm approaches—you’d be an entire mess, pussy convulsing all on his cock as if it was the first time you ever took him. “oh my just look at that pout,” he points out, reaching towards your chin before bringing you all up close towards his face. not to mention, toji’s so pretty up close—ten times more intimidating with his low hazy eyes and wide sleazy smile. “such a baby. want me to talk ya through it?”
“p—please,” you whine, barely even giving him a chance to finish his seductive sentence.
with a playful eyebrow furrow, he makes you grind against him even harder. the sofa creaks and you squeak out a whimper, feeling yourself about to make such a mess. “please, please,” he copies your tone again, and it’s so embarrassing. toji purposely pitches his tone to sound like you and he snickers at the growing glare on your face. “please what, babygirl?”
with an irritated grumble, your flimsy arms still thrown over him, you moan out a desperate, “please let me c-cum. toji, i want it s’bad, pleaseplease let me be a messy girl.”
“. . . ahhhh,” he parts his lips, and he’s oh so dramatic, flickering his eyes towards the ceiling as if he’s deep in thought. “let me think about it.”
you didn’t know how much you could take, you’re sopping wet and his raspy deep voice that was right up against your earlobe doesn’t make things any better.
jagged breaths rip out from your esophagus as your shaky limbs could barely keep themselves up. he cackles, feeling your soft quavering lips kiss near his face, brushing against the scar that runs near the right lower part of his lip. it twitches as a response from your touch, how cute..
“hurry the fuck up then, lay it all on me,” he finally grunts, witnessing the way your dilated irises light up at his sudden permission— you whimper out, finally coming undone and it’s like a rough wave that crashes over you. the calm before the storm, once it comes, you’re left pulsating with his thick dick still buried inside of your cunt. you hug him tight with your walls like a vice, never wanting to let go. “you make such the silliest noises, girl.”
“s— shut up,” you moan, the under parts of your thighs aching heavily as you’re still in the midst of your teeth-shattering release. it feels so good, your maw drops and the contracts inside of your pussy only duplicates. it’s mouth watering, you grind against him just slightly and he spanks your ass, head going back. “i- i love you, toji.”
“i love me too,” he jibes with a cocky grin, sweat beads racing down the sides of his brow. you shoot him a glare and he rolls his eyes for the nth time. “. . kidding,” and he plants a kiss near your forehead, rough hand still attached to your right ass cheek like velcro. “i love you too, sweetheart.”
you’re still panting, but he’s clearly not done talking— it’s toji, figures.
“now bend the fuck over,” he grouses, eyes gazing towards your ass— a tongue goes against his lips like he was preparing for an appetizing meal. “i’m not finished. we gotta work on that lazy arch of yours, girl.”
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taylormarieee · 3 days
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Dollar bills and love Billionaire!Miguel O'Hara
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🎶I'ma take her bougie ass to Rodeo and then let her pick up whatever she want. CC, Gucci, hit Bottega, whatever she want She piss me off, somehow she still get whatever she want🎶
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Summary: You were bratty all day, no matter what Miguel tried to do, take you shopping, buy you food, he even bought you puppies, you were still bratty so he decided maybe fucking it out of you would do the trick.
Pairing: Husband!Billionaire!Miguel x Fem!Entrepreneur!reader
Word Count: 3.2k
Warnings: Dom!Miguel, sub!reader, annoyed Miguel, bratty reader, PiV sex, oral(f), rough sex, mentions of arguing, Miguel being considerate, Miguel being slightly mean, degrading kink, praise kink, pussy whipped Miggy, mentions of height difference (reader is 5'7 Miguel is a 6'9 kingggg!), established relationship(there married), kinda angst/sadness, animal awareness(please be kind to animals, there so precious and adorable, especially puppies.)
A/N: I'm in the writing mood lol, ENJOY!
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Miguel was the best husband you honestly could ever ask for. He was kind and so loving and caring. He was the opposite of what you thought about him when you first saw him.
You own your own business called Size Flows. It's a business for making clothes for plus sized people. Many plus sized people don't get to have clothes like that.
They have to fit in clothes that don't define their curves and beauty properly because the clothes are made for skinnier people. So one day when you decided to throw a party for the celebration of your business being a success you didn't expect much.
Yes, you did send flyers out but you didn't think they were going to reach the higher-higher staff and people in the world. So when famous billionaires and Multi-billionaires and millionaires started showing up into your building, you were shocked,
One of those billionaires happened to be, Lord and Behold, Miguel O'Hara. You were intimidated by him for quite some time at the party. He was tall! That was a fact. He also looked annoyed and mean.
Not really engaging in a lot of conversation like the others did. I mean yeah, the party was at night but it wasn't that late and the party didn't go on for too long so people didn't start getting bored of each other in there.
Eventually you decided to make conversation with him because why not (though you did notice most people cowered and scurried away from him when walking by). So when you arrived at his feet it took about 3 looks to finally meet his eyesight.
He was staring down at you with a tight lipped smile and you looked at him with a wide, happy, inviting one. Your signature smile at most, as that's what your assistant Alexandria says.
"Hello! You must be Miguel! I've heard a lot about you and your work and I must say, I'm intrigued to know just a little at how your mind works.
Miguel had a completely different company from yours, obviously. Yours was about clothes, he built his own museum. It was about like history and about Aerodynamics. The museum was impressive and it was large. I'm talking like, really LARGE!
You honestly couldn't help yourself. You visited the museum about 13 times. A couple with your friends who were into that stuff and like twice with your family and other times with your co-workers who wanted to go on their lunch break. You introduced yourself by saying your name or at least trying to before he cut you off.
"I'm very pleased to meet you Miguel, my name is-" you start off.
"I know who you are hermosa. I've seen your face on the cameras at my museum every time you go." He says.
Your eyes widen. You were so shocked by the cameras bit you didn't even register the intimate name he gave you. 'He's in charge of the cameras. And he's seen me over and over again!?' you thought in shock.
"Your honestly probably one of my most frequent visitors besides a bunch of college boys." he says with a polite smile on his face that makes you feel the need to laugh. He chuckles and laughs with you.
"wow, so you're frequent with the cameras huh?" you ask in a playful tone. He chuckles as he takes a sip of his whiskey.
"Yea, if you say so. I like to make sure my museum is safe and the guests are happy." he responds with a seriousness in his tone.
"Well, I mean coming from number one guest, I must say... I'm extremely happy every time I see the front of the building. Just so eager to go inside."
He laughs again and for the first time, you see a twinkle in his eyes. You guys talk for the rest of the night to the point you're the only two left in the building.
He kindly walks you to your car, which you were forever grateful for and that night ended and more frequent ones with him in it began until you two finally got married.
You were more happy in your life now than you have ever been before. You have the hottest man in the world to wake up to every morning and to say goodnight to every night.
That was three years ago and now, your here dragging Miguel everywhere, looking and searching for stuff you don't need.
Miguel was pissed at you because you were being a bit bratty today. You weren't satisfied and you constantly gave him attitude and sass. He was slowly loosing his patience and his temper the more and more bratty you got.
It got to the point he yelled at you and told you to get in the car both of you arguing for a good 20 minutes on why you were being so bratty and why he was being so annoying and grumpy.
He took you to a pet store. He bought you a tiny little bedazzled blue collar and then told you, "Pick." he said just standing in front of the dog pen with a bunch of puppies running around your legs.
"w-what?" you ask quietly, some forms of your attitude gone. "Pick. One." he says sternly with his jaw clenched. You feel slight fear but get filled with excitement when you see the two puppies you've been wanting forever!
A Corgi and a Yorkshire terrier! They were the cutest puppies to you, well that's a lie, you wanted every puppy in this store but it's not that Miguel wouldn't buy them all, it's the responsibility and care you have to have for them.
The hours you work make it difficult to buy every single one. "Miggy," you start, batting your eyelashes at him, "Can I get them all?" you ask.
There were like 15 dogs in here and you wanted every single one. "mami, no. You can get 2." he negotiates. You pout and your bratty attitude comes back.
"no! I want them all! If not then how about like 8?" you argue the amount with him. He rolls his eyes, once filled with sincerity and love now filled with anger and annoyance.
He usually wasn't annoyed with you when you got like this sometimes but he had a really bad day a work and you arguing with him didn't make it any better.
"No, two. No more negotiating mama." he says as calmly as he can because the last thing he wanted was you flinching and crying at his temper and how scary he got.
He did that once and the last time he did it, you didn't utter a proper word to him face to face for a month. He made you so scared and for a second when he raised his hand you flinched.
You genuinely thought he was going to hit you. He immediately stopped raising his voice at you after that. You allow it sometimes when you're arguing but you don't raise your voice at him that much because you know his temper and his patience.
"ok, how about 4? is that ok??!" you ask with those puppy dog eyes and that cute little pout he loves to see in different circumstances if you know what I mean.
"ok mama, and that's it." You get 4 collars for their genders one pink, one red, one green, and one violet. You got a Dachshund, a Yorkshire terrier, and a French bulldog and a Shih Tzu.
-The Dachshund was a boy and you named him lucky. (he got the red collar.)
-The Shih Tzu was a girl and you named her princess. (she obvi got the pink collar)
-The French bulldog was also a girl and you named her cleo. (she got the purple collar)
-The Yorkshire terrier was the last you chose and he was a boy and you named him stripe. (the name is because he was black and had a brown stripe on his face and he obvi got the green collar)
"That'll be $1,375 sir. And would you like to donate to charity for dogs in need?" she asks with a smile on her face.
"Ok, and yes I would like to donate!" Miguel responds with a smile on his face matching hers.
"Oooo! No Miguel! Can I do it instead? Oh, please hermoso, lemme do it!" you beg you wanted to be part of that cause.
"Ok hermosa, go ahead but lemme pay for the doggy bowls and the food and all the beds and everything else ok?"
"Miguel that means i'll have to buy something! Leave the doggy bowls out, I'll buy them because you'll have to press decline." You explain to him.
"No, I'll pay some to charity and then you pay some." He says smiling glad that your attitude is over.
"If you both don't mind me asking, how much are you donating? I run the charity and I'm just curious." The lady who you now know her name to be Sam, asks.
"Oh I'm paying 500,000 dollars." Miguel says nonchalantly like it's nothing. Her mouth drops.
"And i'm paying 600,000." I add with a smile on my face. Miguel dips his head back down at me and narrows his eyes like it's a competetion.
"Never mind 700,000." he says eyeing me up and down.
"800,000"
"900,000"
"1,000,000" I say finally winning.
"I'll pay 900,00 Sam." Miguel says smiling at her. The lady is crying now and you rush over to hug her.
"Oh poor thing. I have just as much love for dogs as you do. My dog died a couple weeks ago and i've been dying for a new one. That's why we're here so i'm glad we were able to help." You reassure her hugging her.
She mutters a sorry for your loss as she's fighting back tears and you smile feeling tears run down you face as well. Animals were such a big part of life and they brought so many people happiness.
To see the way so many people mistreat animals really crushes your heart. You both pay and walk away with happy smiles and 4 happy puppies with a new home.
You wave to the other employees as they finally realize who you and Miguel were. They asked for pictures and hugs. You gave that to them and then bid them a farewell.
"Thank you Miguel, I really needed this." You say with more tears in your eyes. His face softens and he hugs you and kisses your head. "It's ok baby. I have one more surprise for you at home." He says with a smirk on his face.
You decided to be a tease. The entire car ride you acted bratty and all mad because he wouldn't let you get all the puppies.
You knew exactly what the surprise was so that's why you acted like this. The surprise was sex, you knew it was. That smirk he had on his face in the pet store showed it. He was horny and now frustrated so that only meant one thing...
ROUGH SEX! You loved rough sex with Miguel so much. He would always degrade you and then praise you. He was just so bipolar during sex but whenever you made him real mad and pushed his limits like you are right now,
It always led to hateful, angry sex, well maybe not hateful but really angry, rough sex.
"Get out." He says through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw. Your eye's go wide still keeping up with the act. "No Miguel! This conversation isn't over." You say stubbornly sitting in your seat.
"Fine. Then I'm getting out and I'm going to feed the dogs you're neglecting right now." He says with an eyebrow raised and a shrug.
You gasp and cross your arms over your chest. Your body and the car slightly shakes with Miguels slam to the door.
"what a jerk." You mutter under your breath but sometimes you forget your husband has super hearing and you also have a trunk, that happened to be open...
SMUT INCOMING: MDNI!!!!!
"Hmm love? What was that? Oh. I'm a jerk? mhmm mami, I'll show you a jerk." He says in that sultry smooth voice that had your knees buckling, every. single. time.
You let out a sigh as you watch him go into the house( aka a big ass mansion.) You wait until he goes fully inside. He closes the door but you still wait a little just for good measure.
When you walk in, something pushes you against the wall and Miguels lips are instantly on you roughly. You whimper and he grips your throat.
Your hand rushes to his hand around your throat and he growls biting your bottom lip, drawing it back before letting it spring back to it's original place.
His grip on your neck only tightens as he pushes his crotch against you. He flips you around roughly and your face and front part of your body hits the wall hard, his hand still on your neck.
You moan at the feeling of his crotch pressed against your ass now. "You wanted me to be a jerk right? Your so fucking ungrateful baby but damn are you beautiful." he growls in your ear, clearly fed up with your bratty attitude.
"Guess daddy is gonna have to fuck that attitude out of you huh? ¿Es eso lo que quieres, puta sucia?" He asks you. You loved when he dirty talked to you in spanish, it turned you on so much.
"Mhmm, want you to fuck it outta me papi." you say in return, your voice low and seductive. He grins against your neck before biting it roughly. causing you to. cry. out.
He licks over the bite and you whimper, your legs clenching to find some sort of friction. "Nuh uh mamacita, no trying to please your self. Spread em open baby." He says in a soft voice he didn't have a second ago.
You hesitantly oblige and spread your legs. "Good girl, look at that, mi niña bonita es tan buena para mí." he says proudly.
you smile to yourself before he's picking you up over his shoulder and carrying you up the stairs to your shared bedroom.
"Miggy, i-i'm sorry, I won't be bratty again! I promise." You beg him with pleading eyes when he rests you in the bedroom, on top of the bed as he slowly climbs on top of you.
"No. Don't do that. That's what you said last week, and last month. Every time you beg, I have mercy on you and let it slide, not today baby. Me lo tomarás como una buena chica, ¿verdad?"
"Yes daddy, I'll take it like a good girl for you! I promise, i'm sorry."you respond. His hand trails up. and down your body agonizingly slow and it's making you anxious and needy.
"mhm, daddy, can you fuck me now, please?" you beg. He looks at you and shakes his head.
"No, mi amor. Shut up, and maybe I will." He says roughly. Your eyes start to tear up, not from his words but from his actions.
I mean, I guess you deserve it but he didn't have to be this slow. You stay quiet for the next 20 minutes? you don't even know anymore cuz you lost count.
He finally dips his head, kissing down your stomach, your clothes long gone. He finally reaches where you want him. His warm tongue flat against your soaking cunt.
You let out a relieved sigh, "mhmm thank you thank you thank you miggy." you chant out breathlessly.
his tongue dips inside of you and that alone has you winded. Your breathing his ragged and your hands immediately flying to his hair as you tug on it.
"What'd I say, hmm love? shut up or I stop." He says sternly, your cunt now feeling empty without his tongue. He licked and sucked and prodded at your entrance multiple times.
Soon making you come undone. Your legs closed around his head and you cried out as he licked up every single drop you had, not letting any at all go to waste.
Once he stood back up and met your teary eyes, he smiled. Not a genuine, happy smile, no. It was this smirk that he made when he knew he won, when he knew that he had your little mind wrapped around his finger.
He begins moving the belt to his pants and all you hear is a grunt. You don't even register his cock slipping and sliding through your slick folds.
"Joder mi amor, te sientes tan apretado a mi alrededor." he moans out as he slides his cock into your entrance. You feel so tight around him. Like virgin tight.
"Gonna beat this pussy real nice baby, No quiero que camines por el resto del fin de semana. No walking at all mama." He whimpers when your walls clench around him.
He's pounding now. First it was small, slow thrusts to ease you into it but your pussy is just too addicting. Miguel was so lost in your pussy, he doesn't even realize how hard he's pounding in to you.
His pace unrelenting, even after he made you cum for a second time. Your pussy feeling overstimulated and sore but Miguel is too entranced to care, constantly muttering out cure words and how good you feel wrapped around him.
You felt your orgasm coming as your walls fluttered around him again. He groaned at the feeling and roughly thrusted into you yet again.
"This pussy is all mine, such a fucking brat. Now look who's a mess over my cock hmm hermosa? Mierda, eres una jodida puta para mí, cariño." he says aggressively, enunciating his words with his thrusts.
You scream out and chant Miguels name over and over again while your orgasm rushes through you. you claw at his back and pull on his hair. You've left little tiny crescent shapes in his biceps.
He finally cums inside you at the same time and he releases this animalistic, primal groan and you shudder at the sound. You moan when you feel his hot warm load burst inside you.
"Fuck Miguel." you pant out before sleep over comes you. You were so weak and so tired.
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It's a little later in the night, 12:32 to be exact. You look at the clock and then look behind you to find a sleep Miguel with his arm under your head and the other keeping you close resting on your stomach.
You turn until your face is in his chest. You had Miguels shirt on and underwear. He's so sweet, he must've cleaned you up when you passed out.
Your hands run through his hair lightly and you smile at his resting face. You kiss his face, then his nose, then his lips and the his neck.
You loved everything about Miguel and you hope he knows it. How tall he was compared to you, how he had such a sweet soul behind that mean facade. Everything about him was drop-dead gorgeous.
If you had the option to relive one memory with Miguel, It would be the first time you met him. So kind and such a gentlemen.
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Taglist: @oharaslover @ribbonprincess @willyoubemycherryy @cherryredstarsreblogs /@cherryredstars @versatilehater @dustbunniess / @evbunnie
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mssainz · 3 days
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PART 3 | AFTER FIVE YEARS
Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader
Summary: Carlos Sainz finally met his son he had with her ex-wife, Y/N.
Warning: Angsty
AN: Here's the next part, my loves! This one is a little break from the happy side. Please comment so I can add you to the taglist. Happy race weekend!
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“I hope you don't mind if I take Cael first to bed. I bet he is tired already from all the running,”
“Not at all, take all the time you need,” Carlos said.
Take all the time I need. Yeah. I wish I heard that from you five years ago.
You let Carlos in and have him wait in the living room. You make your way upstairs to Cael's designated room to take care of him.
“Mama, Uncle Chilli really looks like Papa,” Cael said to you while you're busy scrubbing his arms.
“You think so?” He might not have met Carlos before but you never deprived him with information about his father. You let Cael know who Carlos is and let him watch his races and interviews. It's the least thing you can do for him.
“Yes, Mama. He also sounds like Papa.” Cael said while playing with his bath toys. You were amazed by how observant your son is.
After giving him a quick shower and comfy pajamas, you tuck him in bed. Luckily, it didn't take too long for him to fall asleep.
“You had fun playing with Papa, hmm? I'll introduce him to you soon baby, not as Uncle Chilli. Please bear with Mama, okay?,” You whisper to your sleeping son while caressing his cheeks with the back of your index finger. You planted a kiss on his forehead before leaving his room.
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You squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath before stepping a foot on the stairs. The time finally came, you will now tell him about Cael and answer whatever he might ask. You saw Carlos seriously sitting at the couch. His aura is now different from a while ago. You slowly approach him but you remain standing in front of him to keep your distance.
“Hey,” You said to catch his attention.
“Is he asleep?” Carlos asked and did not even look at you. You simply nod and say yes to him. Both of you remain silent for a few seconds before he finally asks a question.
“Cael. Is he mine?”
“Yes, he is. I brought him here to meet you. But not this way obviously,”
“But- but why now? He is already four years old, Y/N! All these years why didn't you tell me about him!” You were taken aback when Carlos raised his voice.
“You stole four fucking years of my life not knowing I have a son. What kind of mother are you? How could you do this to me?” and there it is, Carlos dropped the bomb straight at you.
This conversation escalated so quickly that you didn't expect that Carlos would burst out in an outrage towards you. Your heart sank and you felt that all your blood rush into your head. You know that he could get mad about what you did. But you didn't expect that his anger would come with sharp critical comments about you.
And before you can even think about it, you find yourself matching his flames, releasing your inner madness and equally raising your voice towards him.
“I know that you would be mad at me, you have every right to be. But asking me how could I do this to you! Oh God, Carlos, you tell me! How could I do this to you!” and your tears started falling. You slightly moved towards Carlos and pointed a finger at him.
“I am not the one who cheated! I am not the one who was caught kissing another woman in his driver's room! I am not the one who filed the divorcement papers! And I'm not the one who left our home! Tell me Carlos, how could I do this to you! I literally found out I was pregnant with Cael the day you brought those papers and packed your bags. You have given up on us before I could even tell you!”
"How would I know that you want us in your life when you literally screwing another woman when we're still together! And don't even ask me about what kind of mother I am! Because you don't know what I’ve been through. You don't know how difficult it is to swallow my pride and set aside my resentment for my son to meet you, his father! The man who made me believe that he loves me! The man who cheated on me and left me broken. You don't know, Carlos! You don't know what I had to do! You don’t.” Your confession left Carlos unspoken. This is the first time you actually open up about what happened a few years ago.
His face has softened by what you said. You’re right, he doesn't know and he chose the wrong button to press when he questioned you. After hearing your side, he realizes that he is at fault for everything. But to be honest, asking why you didn't tell him wasn't the thing that upset you. You expect him to be asking that. But it's his tone and other questions that caught you off guard and made you ballistic.
“I'm sorry, Y/N. I-”
“You should go home, Carlos. I- I don't think I can do this right now,”
“But-”
“Please, Carlos. I beg of you,” you cut him off firmly before he can even finish his sentence. Carlos had no choice but made his way to the door and drove home.
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You're on your bed staring at the ceiling. You can't fall asleep after having an intense conversation with your ex-husband. You know that you will have to explain things to him. But you didn't expect that it would turn that awful. The whole argument made it more difficult for you to introduce him to Cael.
So what now?
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AN: How was the story so far guys? I hope you nailed spilling YN's line. Love y'all!
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TAGLIST:
@seasonswinter @charizznorizz @itsjustkhaos @celesteablack @openthenyoor01 @carlossainzbelongswithme @timmychalametsstuff @viennakarma @charlottef1 @i-love-ptv @evie-119 @somepeoplemaybe @amberpanda99 @gotthatname @karlossainz @wonderfulkawaii @khaylin27 @hc-dutch @avengers-assemble123456 @likedbygaslyy @xoscar03 @yukiotadako @barcelonaloverf1life @bearryyyy @mahii7 @mxdi0 @heyheyheyggg @sunny44 @casperlikej @ironmaiden1313 @biitch-with-wifi @elia-the-bibliophile @nataliazzzz @bernelflo @madkohi @lillunna @loloekie @jinimon-tr
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xorafe · 2 days
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okay so basically i was thinking that rafe and reader just had a kid and rafe has been neglecting them and reader for whatever reason and then topper or anyone comes over and since the kid hasn’t seen rafe in so long they end up calling them dad which rafe hears and gets mad at for a bit and then someone puts him in check and he apologizes to reader and starts putting more effort into the family🩷
🍓anon
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
You don’t understand how Rafe can be so heartless.
Whenever your son smiles at you, dimples just like his father’s, you wonder how Rafe doesn’t miss him. How he can drift in and out of your home, hardly ever present.
Your relationship was once so joyful. You ran in the same social circles, eyes on each other at parties, when your mutual friend Topper finally introduced you to each other.
You hit it off and started dating and then, six months into your relationship, your life changed forever when you stood tense in your bathroom, a positive pregnancy test in your hand.
Rafe was shaken at first. He was shaken for a while. It wasn’t until he saw the screen at your first ultrasound that he could fully understand that you were bringing a human being into the world.
And then he settled into the role, feeling genuinely hopeful about the future for the first time in life. He found a beachfront condo for your growing family. He filled it with furniture. He started talking about all the things the three of you could do together.
But as your son grew, the stress got to the both of you, leading you into more and more arguments with each other. Rafe became cold and distant.
You tried to talk sense into him, tell him that if he was falling out of love with you, that was fine, but he had to love your child. Regardless, Rafe kept drifting away from both of you, your once solid family breaking apart and deteriorating.
One afternoon, you text Topper asking if he can buy and drop off diapers. Rafe was supposed to do it but he hasn’t been home in days. You don’t want to bother calling him, knowing he’ll just disappoint you.
When he comes by, you can see it in Topper’s expression that you look just as sad as you feel.
“You okay?” He’s standing outside the door, handing you the box of diapers.
“I’m so tired,” you admit, voice cracking. “He’s barely even home, Top. It’s like he’s checking out.”
Your son waddles towards you, arms spread out. You wipe away your tears and pick him up, forcing a smile for him.
When he looks at Topper and babbles dada, your heart shatters.
“That’s not dada,” you say, kissing your son on the cheek. You look to your friend. “Sorry. I’m kind of a mess right now. Thank you for dropping these off.”
Rafe is at the club, drinking a scotch and gazing out at the golf course, when his phone starts buzzing, Topper’s name on his screen. He answers with a tired drawl.
“Hey, man,” he hears on the other line. “You gotta get your shit together.”
“What?”
“Your girl’s not doing so good. And your kid thought I was his dad.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“She asked me to buy diapers,” Topper says. “Shouldn’t you be doing that?”
Rafe can only angrily hang up, his blood running hot. You’re calling other people for help? Really?
He finds your name in his phone and calls you. But you don’t answer.
It’s late when he finally comes home, carrying two big grocery bags.
You just got your son down to sleep and rush to the door, shushing Rafe as he walks in. He’s pissed off that the first thing you do when you see him is shush him.
“What’s all this?” you ask, looking at the full, heavy bags he’s carrying.
“Apparently, you got someone else to bring you diapers,” he says bitterly, “but I got everything else we need.”
“How would you know what we need?” you say tersely.
“Don’t give me shit right now,” Rafe mutters, placing the bags on the kitchen counter. He starts to put things away, loudly opening cupboards and drawers, when you grip his arm.
“You’ll wake him,” you scold. Rafe turns to look at you, his eyes narrowing.
“I did something good,” he says. “Can you show some goddamn appreciation?”
“Am I supposed to thank you for buying us food?” you snap. “It’s your job.”
Rafe hangs his head, sighing deeply as he rests his hands on the hard marble counter. You’re expecting him to keep arguing with you. But his next words come out strained.
“He thought Top was his dad?” he mumbles.
You cross your arms, feeling a sense of vindication.
“Yeah,” you say. “Can you blame him? He’s the only guy he’s seen around here in a long time.”
Rafe cracks his neck, pacing away from you as he breathes deeply, circling back towards you.
“Why’d you call him?” Rafe asks. He hates that another man provided for his family.
“What, and not you? Like you’re so reliable,” you mutter. “Where the hell have you been, Rafe?”
Rafe’s been living in a haze. He can’t forget your last argument when you screamed at him that if he didn’t love you, fine, but he had to love your son.
Fine. You’re fine if he doesn’t love you anymore.
Rafe has never cried in front of you. He always stifled it or left the room whenever he felt the thick threat of tears in his throat. He thought he had to be a man.
But at this point, he’s too weak to put up a front.
When Rafe starts sniffling, your heart drops. You’re in complete shock that he cares enough to cry about this.
You’re speechless. You stand across from him, just as still as you were the day you learned you were pregnant.
“Home,” he replies, voice thin. He’s been staying at the house, ignoring everyone. When he gets stir crazy, he goes to the club. Either way, he’s been a shell of himself, carrying his sorrow wherever he goes.
“This is home,” you say softly. You look down at the floor, your brows pinched. “What happened? We used to be…”
“What? In love?” he mutters.
“Happy.” You meet his glossy eyes. “Now all we do is fight.”
“And whose fucking fault is that?” he mutters. You scoff incredulously.
“It takes two, Rafe,” you snap. “Is that why you bailed? Because things got tough? Your baby needs you.”
“But do you need me?” he says. His words render you speechless. An even harder, colder tension grows between you.
“You said you’d be fine if I didn’t love you anymore,” he says lowly.
“I meant…” You take a deep breath. “Rafe, I’m… I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t love me anymore,” he mutters. “You’ll leave. I’ll barely see him. What’s the point in delaying it?”
Your head is muddled. Normally, you’d put your hand on his when he spins out like this. Talk him down. But he has hurt you so much lately that touching him would feel unnatural.
“I’d never keep your son away from you,” you say.
“But you would break up me,” he says. You’re so angry at him that giving him any sort of reassurance feels like a betrayal to your pain. He doesn’t deserve the consoling.
But then you notice a tear roll down his cheek and your heart softens.
“Is that why you’ve been like this?” you ask.
Over the past few weeks, Rafe realized he was always scared of being abandoned. Under thick layers of anger and disdain, he fears inadequacy. And why not leave before he’s left?
He stares at you in silence, as if saying his fears out loud will make them come true.
“It’s not on me. You stopped loving me a long time ago,” you say, allowing him to see a crack in your armor.
“I never…” he begins resolutely. “I’ll never stop loving you.”
“And this is how you treat somebody you love? By giving up?” you say. “I’ve been doing everything alone. Do you have any idea how exhausted I am?”
Rafe pinches the bridge of his nose, the guilt he’s been repressing flooding him all at once. He knows he’s failing you. Failing your family.
He won’t say anything else. He can’t.
“If you’re sleeping here tonight, you can take the couch,” you say, pacing out of the kitchen. “I don’t want to even lie next to you.”
Rafe doesn’t give into the impulse to leave, even though his fears and anxieties are screaming at him to. He settles onto the couch. It takes him an hour to fall asleep.
When you wake up to your son’s crying from the nursery at dawn, you hear Rafe’s soft, tired voice consoling him. You drift back off into sleep, sure he’ll call you for help within minutes.
When consciousness slowly pulls you out of your slumber, you can tell by the brightness in your room that it’s well past sunrise. When you check your phone, you’re shocked to see that you slept until noon.
You head downstairs, your chest tightening when you see Rafe playing with your son, his smile bright.
Rafe’s blue eyes meet yours. He gave you the gift of rest, something you’ve been dying for.
“I’m not giving up,” Rafe says. “If you break up with me, I want to know that at least, I… I tried my hardest.”
“If you try your hardest, I won’t break up with you,” you tell him, still harboring hostility.
Instead of arguing with you, Rafe simply nods. You’re shocked he doesn’t have a nasty retort.
“I’ll take care of you,” he says, planting a kiss on your son’s head, earning giggles from him. “Both of you.”
His tone and gaze are so sincere that you almost believe him. It’ll take a while for you to trust him again, but he’ll wait it out as long as he needs to.
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hxney-lemcn · 1 day
Text
First Kiss — Housewardens x gn! reader
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summary: your first kiss with your lover.
tw: none.
a/n: teehee. Its hard for me to pick what character I wanna daydream about. Also, can you tell who my fav is? *cough* Vil *cough*
wc: 2.1k (~250 each character)
Master List
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Riddle Rosehearts
The warm sun gently warmed you both. A refreshing breeze softly caressed you, Riddle’s red hair swaying gently as he took a sip of his tea. You felt more than content as Riddle’s gray-blue eyes watched you intently as you rambled about whatever carried your fancy. It was a side of Riddle that few others saw, and you were grateful that he allowed you to, that he was willing to listen to whatever nonsense you spouted. The warmth in your heart burst as he nodded, giving his two cents about the book you spoke of. By the sevens did you want to just give him a little peck. You two were dating, so there was no harm in asking…right? Although the two of you had been dating for a bit, the question had caused him to fluster greatly. Cheeks a bright red, mouth gaping, chest heaving. You should’ve expected such a reaction, it took quite a bit for him to hold your hand without shutting down. To your surprise, he gave you his consent. Leaning over, you couldn’t help but find him absolutely adorable. Eyes closed expectantly, lips pursed, cheeks red. You closed the gap, leaving a chaste kiss against his lips before pulling away. When you pulled away he seemed to look both in awe and slight disappointment. 
“As my partner, you are allowed to show me your affection in such ways, I only ask you to keep it between us. Other’s do not need to witness such acts.”
Leona Kingscholar
You were bored. Your phone could no longer hold your attention and you just wanted to do something different. Too bad you had a whole ass lion using you as his personal body pillow. You stared at the familiar ceiling of his room, contemplating on a possible way to sneak out. You loved Leona, really, you did…but your limbs were sore and you felt antsy. So, what better than poking the bear, err…lion. You found yourself brushing his hair with your hands, scratching his scalp every so often. When that no longer kept you entertained, you lightly scratched at the base of his ears. His ear twitched, but you continued with your ministrations, a smirk pulling at your lips as a deep rumble was pulled out of him. You only paused when one of his eyes glared at you. When you mentioned you were merely bored and your legs felt like needles were constantly pricking them he only rolled his eyes. Quicker than you could comprehend, he pinned you down below him with a slight huff. His green eyes stared at you for a few moments, as if he was seeking permission, and when you didn’t push him away or fight him, he leaned down, connecting your lips in a harsh kiss. He didn’t stop until you were breathless, a smug smirk filling his features.
“Is this what you wanted, herbivore? If you want to ruin my sleep then you’ll have to compensate me.”
Azul Ashengrotto
You felt like you were going crazy. Azul would take you out on fancy dates, offering you discounts (is it really a discount if you were basically eating for free?) at the Mostro Lounge, and shower you in light forms of affection (kissing the back of your hand, guiding you with a hand on your back, gentlemanly shit), yet you haven’t kissed him? Preposterous! It was proving to be a difficult task, as even though you both had been dating for a while, Azul would shy away at any form of affection you showered him with. The good news was that he had become more receptive to it, the key was you both had to be completely alone and it could only be small gestures. A small squeeze of his hand, brushing back a stray hair, hell even giving him a compliment no longer caused him to run away. Sadly, you started to feel greedy, his pink lips always seemed to taunt you, an open invitation to lean over and place your own over his. But you didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, you understood how kissing could be a big deal. There was one night, the dim lights highlighting Azul’s beautiful face as he watched you expectantly. He had you taste a new dish that he wanted to add to his menu and it just so happened to be your favorite food. As thanks, you asked him to come closer, a mischievous glint in your eyes. He did so hesitatingly, and felt himself burn up when you placed a kiss on his cheek. Then he felt like he was going to pass out as you pouted stating that you ‘missed’. Against his better judgment, he gave into your pleading, enchanting eyes, leaning in closer as you silently asked for permission. When your lips met his, he thought he was ascending to heaven.
“A-ahem, I-I’m glad to see that the d-dish was to your l-liking. I-if there’s anything else I could provide, p-please do not be afraid to ask.”
Kalim Al-Asim
It's a wonder you two haven’t kissed yet. You felt so spoiled with how much care and affection Kalim showered you with. He never failed to warm you heart whether it be from his hugs, his solutions if anything ever concerned you, or even just his smile. He was a beaming ray of sunshine, and it kind of intimidated you. Contrary to popular belief, you felt shy under Kalim’s love. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to the way your heart skipped a beat as he kissed your cheek or refused to let you go. Oh and not to mention the spoiling. You knew you'd never stop the prince from lavishing you with golden jewelry and gems you didn’t even want to guess how much they were worth. Honestly, it wasn’t good for your poor heart…or consciousness. So when Kalim noticed your slightly downtrodden expression at the new ring he slipped on your finger he worried. Was it not to your liking? Was the color wrong? Don’t worry! He’ll find you ten more rings that you’ll love! …why did you look even more scared at that suggestion? You deserved all this and more! Poor Kalim, he doesn’t know a world without it being at his fingertips, he can’t understand your concern. Your heart hurt at his frown, his sad eyes reminded you of a poor puppy that was kicked. With a sigh you relented, it did compliment you nicely. And so, hoping to right the wrong of making Kalim feel sad, you leaned over and gently pecked his lips. It was like nothing had occurred at all as he stared with sparkles in his eyes.
“Could we do that again? How about another? Just one more, pleeeeease~ Haha! I’m sorry, I just love you so much!”
Vil Schoenheit
It wasn’t fair how pretty and charming your boyfriend was. You wouldn’t tell him this, but he could run you over and blame you for being in the way and you’d apologize. Yeah, you were a major simp, but you really tried to be normal about it. Honestly, you weren’t sure how you managed to bag him, something about how your stupidity was frustratingly charming…in which you showed him your B in potions but he simply rolled his eyes. Aparatenly that proved his point somehow. Anyways! It was one of those rare moments of peace, the two of you watching a movie that Vil had deemed a classic. As much as you tried to pay attention (you know how annoying it is when someone scrolls on their phone during a movie you love), you kept glancing at Vil to see his reactions. You weren’t being sneaky by any means, and he wasn’t sure if he should be happy you couldn’t take your eyes off of him or annoyed that you clearly missed the symbolism that was important to understanding the plot. Yet when you pointed out something even he missed…he was secretly proud. Perhaps you were a better multitasker than you seemed because he had watched that movie plenty of times and missed such a simple thing you pointed out on first view. His heart warmed as you pointed out more details that you liked, and others you didn’t completely understand, such a simple moment, yet one he would cherish. And now he was becoming the bad one, eyes straying to your lips while trying to listen to your rambling. He truly wanted your first kiss to be romantic, in a garden with fairy lights or over a fancy dinner, but perhaps this was just as, if not more so romantic. Gently lifting your head up, your words died on your tongue as Vil’s purple eyes stared at you so lovingly. As he inched his face closer to yours, he softly asked if he could kiss you, nearly sending your heart into cardiac arrest. As his soft lips met yours, you felt true bliss for the first time, and as he pulled away with a self assured smirk, cheeks a light pink, you questioned how you managed to achieve a dream like scenario. 
“It seems like you’re becoming a bad influence, dear. You want another? Perhaps I can oblige if you can actually focus on the next movie.” 
Idia Shroud
Where do I begin? You had been with Idia for nearly a year. You both were on the shy side, getting used to such intimate touches slowly. You can successfully say that you can now hug Idia without him freaking out. In fact, he seemed to seek out your affection, albeit in a backwards way. He’d act like he hated any form of affection and then proceed to stare daggers at you like he was trying to telepathically ask you to play with his hair. True cat behavior. You showed him the joy of affection and now you had to pay the crime (you did so happily). Idia was laying on your chest playing on his handheld console, you were mindlessly playing with his hair and your eyes kept drifting from your phone to your boyfriend. He was so pretty, you never understood how he thought otherwise. From his fiery blue hair, his yellow determined eyes, to his blue tinted lips. He may be a loser otaku, but that just happened to be your type. Your hand trailed from his bright hair to his pale face, gently caressing his cheeks. He looked over at you, his cheeks turning a light pink, no matter how much love you showered him with he would never get used to the way you made his heart want to rip itself out of his chest. And…oh sevens, were you staring at his lips? Just what was going on in that mind of yours? Did…did you just ask to kiss him?! Hair burning pink and hiding his face in your neck, he felt like his brain was melting. He’s dreamt of kissing you, how soft your lips may be, the flavor of your chapstick…but actually doing it?! Was your intimacy meter high enough? His charm stats are rock bottom, would he even kiss you right? Wait! H-he didn’t say no! Please kiss him… Oh, that’s a lot better than when he practiced kissing his body pillow. Great, you’ve got him hooked all over again.
“C-could we do that…again…I-I n-need to grind to get my charm s-stats up.”
Malleus Draconia
For Vil you were the simp, well now the turns have tabled. Malleus is straight up courting you, letting you progress the relationship as you’d like. You’re only comfortable with holding hands? That’s alright, he is more than happy to oblige your requests. You enjoy being hugged? Be prepared for dragon hugs, you can’t escape. He would never push you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with. Honestly, he was expecting your first kiss to be at the altar of your wedding…yeah he’s a bit of a traditionalist. So don’t expect him to make the first move, he’s content with any and all affection you're willing to give. And poor you, you constantly found yourself with cute aggression when you’re with your boyfriend. He was just so cute! You wanted to squish his cheeks and squeeze him as tightly as possible (he wouldn’t mind, it's not like you could hurt him). You found yourself once again with a wave of cute aggression as Malleus pouted at the phone he currently held. You were teaching him how to use it and it was a bit harder than you realized. I mean even your mom got the concepts quicker than him…but you suppose your mom wasn’t a century year old fae. The feeling became so strong you couldn’t stop yourself from smushing his cheeks, causing his bright green eyes to stare at you in surprise that quickly turned into fondness. Letting your instincts fully take over, you brought his face closer, pressing your lips together. You had tried to pull away, but Malleus followed you, taking over and kissing you possessively. He wasn’t letting you go anytime soon.
“I apologize, child of man. I can’t seem to hold myself back when it comes to you.”
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jinkiezzsstuff · 2 days
Note
ELLO GOVNA, I hope you're doing wonderful.💘💘I have just a short request
Established relationship Alastor x fem reader who likes to wear lingerie to bed. Or just because she finds herself pretty in it, with literally zero intent to seduce Alastor, she just loves to wear em..(and she'll go all out when it comes to it, even wearing the long sheer robe that has the faux fur) Could be smut or fluff I don't mind…maybe even both 👀
I just simply adore your writing, so I had to request this.🫶
zuddeeee i’m so sorry for getting this to you so late! i loved this so much but struggled writing it for some reason! i hope this is good and that you enjoy it thank you so much for the request, praise and your patience it means the world to me 😭
warnings: SMUT 18+ yall, fem reader no pronouns used aside from ‘you’, alastor isn’t completely sex averse but there’s areas of discomfort mentioned, alastors magic used, reader tops not in a dominating sense but literally on top, alastors antlersss, kinda short smut part maybe? hmmm what else, not proof read because i was so anxious to get this out lmk if you see mistakes! swearing, hmmm that’s it i think
word count: 2.6k
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Alastor made the rare decision to actually go to bed with you tonight. It wasn’t like Alastor didn’t want to sleep in bed with you no, that wasn’t the case at all. More so, he wae just so busy, not to mention he could never find himself fully asleep, the deer aspect of himself left him jumping awake at any tiny sound his sensitive ears could pick up. That would be too cruel to you, keeping you up with his pitiful nonsense.
However you insisted he slept with you tonight, for some reason you’d been more clingy then usual, perhaps it was just that stage in the relationship, or perhaps he’d been away too long without notice? Whatever the case mattered not to him, he just knew you were clingy and he’d be a monster to deny you of his affections. Tying his red bathrobe closed, Alastor kicked off his deer slippers and sat back in bed with a book. Despite being in bed, his suit was still on beneath his bathrobe, feeling still hesitant to let himself get fully comfortable.
Smooth jazz hummed from Alastor filled the room as he waited for you to join him. He wasn’t privy to your nightly habits, so he had no idea how long you’d take before you returned. Alastor thought it was rude and intrusive to stick his nose into what a lady did before bed, no matter how long your relationship had lasted he wanted you to be able to have your privacy within life. I curling your nightly rituals within the bath and bed room.
Light spilt out from the brightly lit bathroom, lighting up the dim room. Alastors head turned towards the noise of the door and light on the floor, eyes widening at the sight before him. You began walking toward the bed, a long silky robe flowing with every step you took, through peaks and openings Alastor saw your skin, and where he didn’t see skin he saw deep burgundy lace.
His tail made movements beneath him as he watch you drop the robe, slipping down your figure and onto the floor just by your side of the bed. You faced his eyes with your body clad in luxurious looking lingerie, something he’d only ever seen in hell on skimps; never yourself. “My dear, what’s this?” His tone was teasing as you slipped underneath the cover, sitting up against the headboard with him. “What do you mean hun?” Alastor raised his eyebrows at you, surprised by then genuine confusion in your tone and eyes.
“Ahhh I see my dear! Subtly indicating it’s time for some good ol’ barney mugging!” Alastor chortled out tilting his head along with his laughter. You didn’t hide the confusion on your face at his words, rarely did Alastor catch you off guard with his weird old timey speech, but this one had you puzzled. “Good old what now?” Alastors tendrils came of from beside you and tugged you into his side, nestling you underneath his arm, and pressing you to his chest. “Mischievous little you, always making me say thee uncomfortable terms; sex. You dressed up so desirably, and wanted to stay tonight because you wanted attention.” Alastor whispered softly down to you, as you twisted your head up from your awkward position to meet his gaze.
Smiling softly, you pat his chest softly giving in, and coiling around him as if he were your teddy bear. “Al, I didn’t dress up to try and get sex out of you, I genuinely just wanted to have you next to me tonight! I always dress like this for bed, you’d know if you came to bed more.” You lightly jab, still smiling sweetly at the deer above you. His eyes flickered with varying emotions that you couldn’t quite pick up on, although his smile never faltered remaining the same throughout. “I didn’t think anybody wore those types of garments to sleep.” Alastor admitted slumping further down on the headboard of the bed, he didn’t feel ashamed of jumping to conclusions on the type of outfit you doted, however he was still racking his brain on the fact you just wanted him here; why?
“You should really change too Al, these ain’t comfy.” You muttered nuzzling yourself into his neck, the tips of his hair tickling your face, and his pesky suit collar getting in the way. “Darling i’m the radio demon, demons don’t undress.” Humming absentmindedly in response, your hand danced down his chest, caressing the large quantity of fabric that seperated your hand from his chest. Reaching the belt in his robe, you were easily able to untie it, and your hands made there way back up to unbutton every button your fingers touched. Alastors static flickered with warning, but you knew he’d never hurt you like that, so to you it was no more threatening that a disapproving look.
Although he didn’t like the idea of being in a vulnerable position where anybody could catch him lacking, he allowed you to undo the buttons in his top slowly, even helping you at times when you couldn’t get one undone. “i know you’re uncomfortable at times, but you don’t have to be naked, just more relaxed.” You say as his white button up was finally opened, leaning back from your position you tugged at the robe indicating you wanted it off. Following in suit, Alastor sat up with a flat hum falling out of him, you wasted no time pulling off the robe, jacket and button down shirt all at once, before chucking it off onto the floor.
“I love your flesh, y’know that?” You coo, running your hand over every scar and decorated line that scattered across his body. You flopped back on the bed with a smile, Alastor slowly lowering himself beside you right after. “For a sinner who isn’t a cannibal my dear, that was awfully cannibalistic of you.” You grinned at him, scooting up beside him and repositioning yourself under his chin. “What can I say, you’re rubbing off on me.” Alastors hand came down the back of your head and trailed down your back, toying with the lace and band of your brassiere. “I still think you should take off your suit pants, by the way.” You muttered eyes blinking slowly, feeling exhaustion wash over your body in waves, there was something about being settled down neck to Alastor that made you feel sleepier than before.
“Hmm, s’pose I could indulge you this once.” Alastor grumbled succumbing to your wishes, with one hand he unbuttoned his slacks and unzipped his zipper, then with the help of his tentacles he pulled his pants off and tossed them aside. Your leg immediately came up to wrap around his torso, feeling his warm flesh beneath your thigh and calf was enough to make you slightly throb, which made you feel a bit guilty; after all you said you weren’t seducing him. Thankfully as your leg rested underneath his bellybutton on his pelvis, you felt shivers run through him, which he tried and failed to play off as a yawn.
Guess you weren’t the only one thinking naughty tonight. “Would you…” You trail quietly wondering if you should ruin the soft moment between you two. You heard a staticky hum sound from Alastor, almost like a rattle, and decided to simply go for it. “Would you like it if I was trying to seduce you? Would you wanna lil barney- whatever.” You breath out a laugh at the silly term. Alastor hummed thoughtfully, his claw tracing up your back with slow purpose. Alastor didn’t feel as though he knew how to answer, yes he did enjoy the indulging act every now and again with you, however it could be tedious at times.
“Can i ride you?” You blurt out sitting up. Alastors ears flickered rapidly as his eyes widened, his smile barely faltered but everything you needed to know was in his eyes and ears. Smiling coyly, you bring your own clawed hand up to caress his face. “Do your cheeks get tired from all the smiling?” You asked slowly and gently shifting your hips on top of his own, setting yourself down on top of him, lent forward toward his face. “Painfully so,” Alastor whispered his static gone as he watched through lidded eyes you grind your body against his own slowly. “I bet you’re so tired all the time honey, you need to be taken care of.” You cooed pecking his chest, below you cold feel the swell in his boxers, the lights in the room also began to act up.
“Absolutely done in my dear,” Alastor responded lowly his hands coming up carefully to your hips. “Do you intend to help me?” You nodded with a smile, and dropped your core down onto his aching bulge. With a hiss Alastor gripped your hips, nails cutting into you as you carefully grind your clothed core against him. Anticipation bubbled within you and you held back the strong urge to quicken your speed and ravage him fully, but you knew how Alastor felt and didn’t want to secretly overwhelm him in an uncomfortable way.
Lifting your hips, Alastor tried to yank you back down to him with a static growl coming from him. You tsked at him, fighting against his strength and reaching below your bodies to carefully release him from his briefs. “Don’t fight me Alastor, I'm just trying to help.” You grinned pulling the pricey pair of panties aside, revealing the glisenting of your heat. Alastor watched eyes wide as you slid slowly against his length, folds encasing his cock and covering him with your arousal. Alastors hands came down to grip the sheets, hoisting himself up slightly with his elbows to watch your sinful display.
You watched the gears turn in Alastors head, it was obvious to you how hard he was struggling to let you maintain the control. His ears were drooped down to the sides of his head, his smile lessened and struggling to stay high as you teased him. You set you body down fully feeling the head of him poke at your sensitive clit, making you jolt your mouth falling open into a silent moan. Alastor hissed like a snake, air escaping through his clenched teeth as you dragged your hips back and forth against him slowly.
Alastor was always in control when you two had sex, it was the only way he’d have it typically, let him maintain his image and aesthetics of control, being subservient just didn’t suit him. God forbid anybody walk in to see the state he was in. Alastor tensed at the thought, head craning towards the unlocked door, his eyes widening. He didn’t like feeling anxiety but he did feel it now, and he feels it anytime he’s put in these positions he hated it. The sensation in his stomach made him want to pull his hair out, the feeling of fear making him feel insane. How could someone like him feel these stupid emotions?
“Hey,” You whispered, halting your movements, and slowly resting your hand on his cheek. You noticed his demeanour suddenly shift as he began eyeing the door, your gaze followed but it was lacklustre as there was nothing there. “Al, we can stop if you’d like?” Alastors hair was puffed like a cat and his ears were pinched back instead of their previous position relaxed at the sides. “We’re just so terribly exposed my dear,” Alastor muttered glaring at the door. “May I… alter, our surroundings?” You watched him trail decisively, trying to remain indifferent on the outside when clearly he was squirmy. “Sure thing hun, do as you need.”
Smiling you watched as his demeanour shifted from on edge to confident, the hair on his head once puffed now relaxed. Smooth jazz filled the surroundings, reverberating off the walls and around the room, then your jaw dropped slightly as you watched Alastors magic to encase you safely in the wispy dome he conjured around the bed. Your eyes casted down at him, eyebrow quirked with disbelief, he only grinned cheekily up at you, arms finding their way to rest behind his head. “Ahh safe and sound my dear, where no sneaky prying eyes could see your beauty, and my fragility.” A soft laugh track played out at his exclamation, and unknowing admission of his feelings.
Angling your hips forward and down you reviled in the feeling of him twitching needily against you. “I suppose you are right, I admit Vox makes me paranoid.” Alastors static crackled madly at the mention, normally he didn’t let himself get away with showing this type of anger towards such a lowlife, but the admission that Vox put you on edge? That pissed him off. “Relax Al, i know you can take of me if I need it.” You assure petting his hair affectionately, which he typically didn’t enjoy but for the moment he allowed it.
His grin was calm as he found his zen again, relaxing into the mattress and the feeling of you squirming above him. With a hum Alastor pulled his hands out from behind him and snaked them beneath you two, grasping his dark grey member that was covered in your slick arousal. “I think it’s enough teasing dear, it’s beginning to become ever so painful.” He teased with a coy tone in his voice, you whined as he prodded your entrance slipping in the head of his cock with ease. You heard a echoed hiss of feedback play out of the static as he slid deeper into you, your back arching as you felt yourself sink down fully. “Oh shit Al, i know I'm gonna cum fast.” You whined, already rocking yourself against him. Alastor was as stiff as a board, his hands reactively flying back to your hips digging his nails into them, as he strained against the animalistic urges to ram into you like the wild animal he was.
His antlers grew large, spanning across the length of the bed as you began to ride him, his knees coming up giving you something to grab onto. All that could be heard, was the distracting jazz, and the echoing skin slapping that reverberated through the bubble. Alastors nostrils flare at the smell of you encasing him, he tried to hide the whines he made by swallowing but it was no luck once you began to clamp down on him. Crying out loudly you fell forward hands on each side of him as you crazily fucked yourself on him, selfishly chasing your own orgasm. Although Alastor didn’t mind, he felt himself holding on to the edge of his climax as he watched your face contort and listened to your pleas for him. A ballistic growl ripped out of Alastors chest as he came, giving into the desire to be disgustingly horny; he encased your hips with his arms, moaning your name into your ear as he thrusted into your body vigorously.
You gripped his antlers as he did so, feeling your clit bump against his pubic hair and flesh, you could feel yourself getting so close but this one was dragging out. You begged Alastor not to stop as you throbbed and clenched, and when you did Alastor pulled his head back to meet your lips. His tongue sliding into your mouth, warm lips against your own and clashing teeth was enough to make you come. Your body convulsed against his, whining and crying into his mouth as you made a mess of him and your bed. After a moment where you both rode out your high, you finally detached from the lips, your body’s simultaneously falling back, his against the bed and your body against his. Alastors magic collapsed around you, the shield once encasing you gone, the jazz that once carried through the crackled off moments ago. The two of you panted, wordlessly recouping. “I think i’ll sleep with you more often dear, i have to admit, that was quite the sleeping aid.”
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angelltheninth · 3 days
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Kaeya, Diluc, Arlecchino, Childe, Dottore, Pantalone, Neuvillette and Zhongli telling reader to sit still while they finish work and her replying with “Come over here and make me.”
They could not make me actually!
Pairing: Kaeya, Diluc, Childe, Dottore, Pantalone, Arlecchino, Neuvillette, Zhongli x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, kissing, being held down, sitting on their lap, late night work, distractions, flirting
A/N: I was debating weather to write smut or fluff. Fluff won.
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1. “Come over here and make me.”
Kaeya will gladly take a break for a while to indulge his cute girlfriend. he told you to wait for him but he didn't think it would take that long. The break for kisses will make it last even longer. But at least you won't be fussy anymore, which is a good thing then.
Diluc checks on you every once in a while but he didn't expect your boobs in his face the next time he looked up. He ignored your warning so now you're here, sitting down in his lap and making it impossible for him to work. And yes, this is his fault.
Childe takes you up on that challenge all too eagerly. Truth be told he was looking for an excuse to stop working and you just gave him the perfect one. How can he work with you looking at him like that and tempting him to come forward and kiss you breathless.
Dottore agrees to do just that, he didn't have you as his girlfriend for nothing. You remind him to take breaks, before his body breaks that is. Without you he'd be stuck in his lad for days, months even, you deserve a reward in form of as many kisses you you want.
Pantalone feels sorry for asking you to wait for him. If he knew it would take this long for him to finish these reports he wouldn't have asked you to wait for him. Now you're bored and distracting him, he's not getting out of this office without stress release, for you both.
Arlecchino tells you to watch your bratty tone, you know she's not above disciplining you. It's like you enjoy pushing her buttons, seeing long it takes for her to walk over to you, make you choke on her gloved fingers. You need to learn to do as you're ordered.
Neuvillette looked up at you with wide eyes and pink ears. That tone is very familiar to him but you never had it in his office. Whatever you're thinking isn't gonna happen because he needs to work and he will hold you down with his tail if he has to.
Zhongli beckons you closer, the exact opposite of what you asked for. As soon as you're within his reach he pulls you onto his lap and kisses your neck, whispering that you should stay still if you don't want any accidents to happen. You almost got caught once before.
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queenimmadolla · 2 days
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Could you do a blurb where reader rolls a joint for Eddie for the first time with all her cute papers and stuff and he loves it?
Happy Stoner Christmas!
happy 4/20! 😶‍🌫️💚
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“Well, if it isn’t for my favorite customer.”
  You hear him before you see him, and sit up straighter as you look up, torso twisting around to face Eddie.
  He’s walking through the tree line that acts as the ‘fence’ to your backyard. Not exactly born into wealth, your home is on the edge of Hawkins and lacks the white picket fence and concrete driveway, with nature and gravel filling in. Just down the street is Jonathan Byers’ home. 
  Confidence radiates off of Eddie as he approaches the picnic bench you were waiting on, his curls sway a little. He’s rocking a band shirt today—long sleeves rolled up his forearms—and some dark jeans. You try not to squirm under his stare, the wild grin on his face stirring something in your tummy.
  You knew you’d end up crushing on him after the first time you went to him for weed instead of Rick. He was cute. 
  Eddie was so freaking cute and charming and funny. You probably would have been fine if he had just been cute and charming, but the humorous trait was your weakness. You loved funny guys.
  Sure enough, by the fourth time he dealt to you—his tongue was in your mouth. And the fifth time, you’d gone to third base. Now, whatever happened when he came around just happened. You accepted it, even if it makes you a little nervous because you know very well you’re interested in more than just the benefits that come with your encounters. 
  You want him. Like, boyfriend him. It’s kind of tragic, actually, because you don’t even know if you’re the only one of his clientele he treats this way. Eddie can be fucking the rest of them for all you know and it drives you insane because you want to ask—you’re just too chicken shit.
  “You say that as if this wasn’t prearranged.” You laugh out and Eddie snorts, dumping his black lunch pail on the leaf riddled bench top next to your scooby-doo lunch box with a metal clang.
  “I’m trying to be cute and you’re ruining it.” When you laugh again, Eddie’s eyes squint in triumph, “And I’ll have you know I have been waiting—no, yearning for you to call upon me. Moved my bed over to the phone and everything. Thought you forgot allllllll about me.”
  “Me forget about you? Impossible.” You declare in a joking manner, though you truly mean the sentiment. Your mental health might be better if you could forget him. Then you wouldn’t be able to make yourself sick over the idea of him kissing other people.
  “You better mean that.” He jabs an accusatory finger, silver ring glinting, in your direction as he settles in across from you, “The usual, my sweet?”
  UGH! SEE?! Too damn cute.
  “Please?” You’re too busy opening up your own lunch box full of supplies to notice the heated look he fixes you with right then.
  Eddie clears his throat, tongue darting out to swipe over his lower lip as he pops the lid of his lunch pail open, pulling out a little baggie with your favorite strain of buds. He eyes it with a glint in his eye before it’s held out to you, dangling from his fingertips. 
  You look up once you realize it’s being offered, and pinch the top of the baggie as your other hand holds out the folded bills. Eddie flicks them out of your loose grip, and it goes flying to land in your lap while you jump in surprise.
  “My bad,” he snickers, his pretty teeth gleaming, “it’s on the house.”
  You pick up exactly where he wants you to, “In that case, please accept my offer to smoke you out with my newly acquired goods.”
  That feeling in your belly—butterflies—intensifies at the slow and large smile that spreads on his face, forcing his little dimple to make an appearance.
  It always goes like this now. 
  Eddie comes over (or you go to him), weed is exchanged and when you try to pay him for it, he refuses. Then, you invite him to smoke weed with you (and he’ll always pull from the extra inventory he carries around—never from what he’s just given you), the two of you get high and you finally feel brave enough to make a move because you know he always waits for you to do it. Gives you the power to start things, your own comfort, though he takes full control once you get going. He’s always so keen on taking care of you. You’d once thought that maybe he didn’t want you as much as you wanted him, since it was always you initiating things, but the way he’d beg for you, ramble about how much he wanted you, how desperate he was for you and his ‘finally, I thought I was gonna die’s on just your kisses alone, soothed that insecurity. 
  “I’d be delighted to! But─”
  “Nope.” You interrupt, having seen his hand reaching into his pail. “My weed—not yours.”
  He raises his eyebrows in surprise and when you don’t back down, both of his hands are lifted in surrender before one is extended to you out on the bench, palm up. Eddie’s waiting for you to give him your grinder and the weed so he can start rolling but you low five his palm instead and he chuckles, skin tingling from the contact.
  “That’s not exactly what I meant.”
  “I know, but I’m also rolling today, too.”
  Eddie scoffs and smirks, fixing you with that heated stare again and you quickly divert your gaze, pulling out your pretty purple grinder and getting to work. You are not gonna let him make you nervous and fumble around, “Baby…”
  Oh, god. The way he coos it out, nice and low—you’re instantly taken back to other times you’d heard him say it like that. You’d been bent into all kinds of positions as it was rasped into your ear, the sweat from both of your bodies plastering Eddie to you. Your hand twists the top of the grinder on autopilot as you stare at nothing, gaze vacant.
  Eddie knows exactly where your mind has taken you and his smirk widens.
  “You can’t roll for shit.”
  That snaps you out of your stupor, mouth dropping.
  “I can, too! You’ve never seen me put in the work.”
  “I have, that’s why I roll.”
  And you cringe as you recall the first time you’d try to roll a joint. It had been the second time Eddie sold to you, having only used pre-rolled cones prior. Those only meant you had to pack the wrap in with weed, kind of like a funnel and then twist the end closed before partaking.
  Rolling from start to finish was a whole other endeavor and you’d failed so badly, Eddie had rolled around on the floor laughing. You didn’t take any offense, too busy jumping up and down inside at having made the cute, charming funny guy you liked laugh.
  “I’ve been practicing,” You pout, placing the grinder down after you’re sure the nug of the bud you’d placed in it was now almost powder-like.
  “You tryna impress me, hm?” He hums out, and you refuse to look up, knowing those pretty brown eyes of his are gonna be lidded and it’ll do you in early. You’ll have to jump him right there, “Been practicing to show me what you can do?”
  You ignore him, focusing instead on the rolling papers you had. 
  Eddie places his chin in his hand, watching you intently as you frown in concentration before it breaks when you select a rolling paper, cherries decorating the white sheets. You pull your small rolling tray out and some part of Eddie throbs. You hadn’t had that before.
  You quickly scrunch a filter together, folding the rolling paper and placing the filter at the edge of the fold before you unscrew the grinder and begin pinching the green within to sprinkle on the paper. Once it was full, and Eddie notices with wide eyes that you’ve packed it with a significant amount, you use dexterous fingers to carefully roll it together, tongue poking out as you take diligent care to ensure no fall out. Once the green flower is properly contained, you lick the free edge and fold it over the rest of the joint before you pinch and twist the end.
  After a few moments of intense scrutiny, you hold it out victoriously, “Taduh!!! For you.”
  Eddie takes the joint, turning it this way and that as he marvels. You really had been practicing, it was beautiful. He feels an intense amount of pride bloom in his chest and something else. Always for you, only ever for you.
  “Did I do good?” You ask, voice shy as you bite your lip and this time you don’t look away when that heavy stare focuses on you. You wanna faint, but you don’t. He doesn’t say anything for a while and you know where tonight is gonna lead. 
  “Baby,” There’s that rasp again that makes you want to drop dead and smash your mouth to his at the same time, “I’m gonna need you to come over here now. Don’t think I can wait.”
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princessbrunette · 14 hours
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thinking about bunny being in a slightly difficult mood, grumpy, huffing and stomping her foot around tannyhill. rafe’s trying to let her have her temper tantrum since they’re a rare occurrence. but after a few hours of her sour mood not letting up, he manhandles her rove this lap to put in her bunny plug and finger her till she cries and he’s cooing at her about how “only dad can fix that little attitude huh, bun?”
oh my god??????
(⑅◞ ִ ◟⑅) · ˚ 𓈒 🎀 ྀི 🌸 ♡
he can handle the grumpiness, stomping around in little heels and huffing at minor inconveniences. sour moods never last too long with you, so having to deal with you isn’t exactly something that concerns him. however, he is a little surprised to learn that after a few hours — you’re carrying that same amount of aggression, manicured nails digging into your palm as you storm around with clenched fists, shrugging carelessly to whatever rafe asks you and bottom lip permanently jutted into a pout.
the final straw is when you go to pull your shirt from your dresser where it was folded, tugging a little too hard and hearing a tear. usually, this wouldn’t bother you. you knew deep down that it was no biggie to get something like that fixed, and rafe would never let you walk around with holes in your clothes — but the simple act of it happening sent you over the edge, screaming at the top of your lungs and repeatedly beating the shirt on the dresser, kicking your kitten-heeled feet against the wood of it until the heavy footsteps of your boyfriend had arrived behind you.
“the fuck is —” he cuts himself off, seeing the scene before him, taking in the dramatics before instantly doing what he knew should have done hours ago. in seemingly one quick movement, rafe yanks you by the arm out the way while opening the drawer and pulling out the clean bunny buttplug just waiting for usage. “alright, alright — alright!” he yells over your fussing until it was just broken whines and cries, the boy forcing you over his lap on the bed.
“its broken—” you go to yell once more as rafe yanks up your skirt, but he cuts you off quickly — asserting his dominance in hopes you’ll simply relax.
“lower your voice kid, won’t ask you again.” he commands sternly, and luckily you don’t bother again, sucking in short breaths and sniffling into the bedsheets as he works your panties off completely, knowing you won’t be needing them anymore.
you groan when rafe slots his hand beneath your throat and lifts your head with his grip, bending as much as he can to crane over you and hold the plug to your mouth. “c’mon. get it wet. don’t waste my time.” he taps your bottom lip and you sniffle, drooling until not only the metal was coated but his fingers were too from the run off. “shit, crazy girl.” he tsks as he leans back, touching the tip of it to your puckered hole. “you’re gonna calm the hell down. alright? once this is in you’re gonna chill out. i know you need me to fix that little attitude, okay i know. but you gotta use your words and not freak out on me. daddy can’t help you otherwise. yeah?” he talks to you as he pushes it in, feeling relief in the way your body melts on his lap, still sucking in harsh breaths but slower.
“yeah.” you repeat, knowing you had to say something but your brain was in melting mode, not capable of thinking of much else.
“alright. good. now, look at me — m’gonna ask you something n’i want an answer.” he demands, slowly helping your trembling body to stand between his legs. you clutch his white shirt in your fists, grounding yourself as your tearful eyes flicker over his face. you make a noise of acknowledgment so that he can continue. “what do you want? i— i can’t fix it for you baby ‘cos i don’t know what it is.” he flings out an arm, gesturing the shirt you left strewn on the floor. “is it that? do you want me to look at that? do you need a nap? food?” he shakes his head in exasperation, wide eyes searching yours with parted lips like he was really trying to figure you out.
you sniffle, shuffling on your feet as you stand inbetween his legs, his arm around your lower back keeping you leaning on him — and you’re not saying anything. he blinks, before speaking once more. “its dick. you want dick, huh?”
you didn’t know you did. truthfully, you’d been in a god awful mood all day, feeling like everything was going wrong — and in that moment things became just a little clearer as to why that might be. rafe hadn’t fucked you all week, you’d been out and about doing your own things — which is normal and okay in every relationship — just not in yours. you needed rafe to remind you who’s boss, because you didn’t wanna have to think anymore.
“please.” you nod, fiddling with his shirt button and the hand around your back slides down to beneath your skirt, tugging at the tail before massaging his fingers over your empty hole, feeling the way it gets sticky around him.
“hm. i should’a known.” he drawls, eyeing over you before plucking at your clothes. “gotta take this off, yeah? lemme see you.”
(⑅◞ ִ ◟⑅) · ˚ 𓈒 🎀 ྀི 🌸 ♡
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ellecdc · 2 days
Note
Ooooo Mother, i'll do one better!!
What about the boys (established relationship) being needy over reader?? Like something she does or says or wears.
ooooooooof good one babes
okay, mature content ahead: viewer discretion is advised
James:
you come down the stairs to the Gryffindor party looking like that
certified simp, there would be no question what was going through his mind when he get's needy like this
glassy eyes just ogling you
following you around like a lost puppy - his friends would joke that you had him on some invisible leash
probably has a hand on you at all times
I see him getting a little whiny: "can we go now?" "the party's almost over, right?" "they won't miss us for a few minutes?"
whatever ends up happening afterwards is rushed and frantic - it's very obvious how absolutely desperate he was for you
Sirius:
you come down the stairs to the Gryffindor party looking like that
I don't think he lets you make a full round of the party before he's pulling you up to his dorm and locking the door
"Siri! I was talking to Emmeline!"
He'd scoff at you as he started shedding his clothes. "You come down stairs looking like that and expect me not to want to jump your bones immediately? Fuck, look at you; who even gave you permission to look this good, huh?"
idk about you but that sentence alone would have me in a puddle
ravishes you - you both look like a right mess afterwards
he takes about 30 seconds to revert back to his dishevelled rockstar appearance (which is so unfair because it took you a little longer to get ready tonight)
he dutifully helps you get redressed - the whole nine yards. Hair, makeup, outfit; though he makes sure some of the marks he's decorated your skin with are visible... "they compliment the ensemble, doll face"
Remus:
you come down the stairs to the Gryffindor party looking like that
he's got a good pokerface, but there'd be signs
he'd be a little quieter during conversations - most of his attention placed on you, one of his hands would be near his mouth as he played with his lips (like a nervous tick, almost like he really wants a cigarette right now)
but this man's M.O.? Get you feeling just as needy as he is
he would ask you to dance - and it'd be sinful: your back pressed up against his front as your hips sways in sync to the beat
his hands would be all over you: running up and down your thighs, slipping under the skirt of your dress, arms wrapping around your middle, gentle kisses pressed to your ears and neck
he'd have you so wound up and when you finally turn in his lap to ask him if he wanted to go upstairs, he'd smile at you and say "great idea, dove. I don't think they'll miss us for a little while."
get's exactly what he wanted and somehow it had been your idea
Regulus:
you come down the stairs to the Slytherin party looking like that
I think it would piss him off a little bit, quite frankly - how dare you come down stairs looking that good and acting like you weren't knocking the wind out of Regulus? (and likely every other partygoer there)
I think because he's feeling slightly jealous/a little peeved at you, he'd keep his distance at the party; but you would feel his eyes on you all night
his predatory gaze watching you as you navigate the party, sending threatening glares at anyone getting too close or was looking for too long
finally as the party is dying down, you're halfway through a conversation with Dorcas when you feel a looming presence behind you
"We're leaving." He says simply, taking your elbow and ushering you towards the dorm rooms.
you try to scold him for interrupting your conversation and rudely dragging you away from the party
he narrows his eyes and looks you up and down: "you don't get to show up to the party looking like sex on a stick and then berate me for finally getting you alone"
you smirk at him. "if you wanted me alone so bad, all you had to do was ask"
"Well, here I am." "I'm all yours, reg"
Barty:
you come down the stairs to the Slytherin party looking like that
your foot has barely hit the last step before you're hastily thrown over Barty's shoulder and he's running to his dorm room
"But Barty! The party!"
"Fuck the party! There are more important things to do."
you guys never make it back to the party - a shame too, you really liked that dress....the one that was since ripped off of your body and sat in a pile on the floor
"Don't worry treasure, I'll buy you 40 more of those dresses; though I can't promise they won't end up in the same state"
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muddyorbsblr · 2 days
Text
ill-intentioned "compliments"
Drabbles Masterlist See my full list of works here!
Summary: Loki steps in when a man subjects you to his tasteless opinion on your outfit
Pairing: Loki x Reader
Word Count: 955 (issa blurb)
Warnings: creepy men being creepy; the tiniest dose of violence (let me know if I missed anything!)
Things to be aware of: a bit of mutual pining
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"I haven't the slightest idea why we have even been tasked with this," Loki muttered, walking alongside you holding a paper with a list of errands for the two of you to run this weekend. Every other week, two names from the team were picked from a hat, and this week, your names popped up.
"Well Pepper said something about it helping the team seem more approachable, 'human', if the public sees us doing 'normal people' things. So getting groceries, getting the cars cleaned and gassed up, picking up pizza…little things."
He grumbled even worse; if he wasn't such a stickler for his princely stature, he'd probably be slouching and dragging his feet right about now. "I suppose it could be worse," he said softly. "I could have been partnered with less tolerable company."
"Why Mischief, are you saying you like having me around?" you quipped, playfully batting your eyes at the god. "High praise coming from you."
"Do not make me regret saying that, little mortal." He rolled his eyes at you, failing to hold back the twitching of the corner of his mouth and hide the amusement. As he often did when he was around you.
"Well if it makes you feel any better, I like having you around, too."
Your words took him aback. "Truly?"
"Of course." You pointed at the next item on your list, before motioning toward the top shelf. "You're the most tolerable tall person I could've been partnered with. Last time I got partnered with your brother I had to push around two carts on my own."
You had to look away while he reached up for the carton of pickle jars, resisting against every urge to ogle at the way his midnight black jeans stretched over his inhumanly perfectly shaped ass. "Well for what it's worth, darling, I would never let you do any of this on your own--"
"We-he-heeeelll, Agent Y/L/N," a voice drawled out, coming from a man who was no less than two decades your senior, eyes filled with such prurient thoughts that he didn't even bother to hide as he leered at you. The way he said your name, along with the way he looked at you, felt like you were being blanketed in slime.
Made you want nothing more than to kick his ass. Or even rack up a debt to the god you were partnered with and ask for his help.
"Don't you look mighty fine today, in that cute little skirt…" The unwelcome lecherous admirer was reaching his hand out toward you, letting out a yowl of pain when Loki stormed over, grabbed the man's wrist in his significantly larger hand, and squeezed.
"I think not," he said through gritted teeth. "You're undeserving to be sharing the same breath as her and you believe yourself entitled to a touch?"
"What? I was just paying her a compliment!" the man whined. "It's a free country, you fucking alien. What? I can't tell a woman she's pretty anymore? Is that what--"
"You know damn well you were doing more than that. You were putting her in a situation to give a clear message, that despite her stature and place in society, because you have deemed it so, she is still subject to your lecherous thoughts. You were going to touch her without her consent because you wished for her to know that you can, and whatever happens in the aftermath will not nullify how she was already subjected to being groped by your grimy unworthy hands." The god squeezed a touch tighter, a near sadistic smile stretched across his face when he began to hear bones creaking and threatening to crack.
"Fucking psycho you're breaking my hand!"
"Oh I haven't even begun to get psychotic," Loki spat out, squeezing just a touch harder and hearing the first fracture finally give in. He begun to speak lower, and you were too far away to decipher what he said next. "You know not the lengths I would go for her, you impotent, tiny, inconsequential insectile excuse for a man. Anyone who sullies her mood will have me to answer to, am I being clear?"
Another squeeze. More fractures. And the once supercilious man was reduced to a whimpering mess, pleading for mercy. "P-Please I'm sorry, just let me go I won't do it again."
"See to it that you don't." The god's eyes glowed a vibrant green for a moment, casting an enchantment that would replicate the sensation of his hand fracturing whenever he would so much as feel the urge to touch another unfortunate unwitting woman moving forward. When he was certain that the spell had taken, he released the lech's hand with a derisive sneer, not even bothering to watch him scamper away, choosing instead to turn and cross the few steps back to you.
"You know I could've kicked his ass no problem."
"I have no doubts, little mortal, but that would also mean you would have given him the satisfaction of touching him." He broke out into a smile when you scrunched up your face at his response, fighting against the urge to reach for your hand. Or tuck that stray lock of hair behind your ear.
Or kiss you.
"Thank you," you said softly as you both started walking toward the register. "The guys back at the Compound got it so wrong about you. You're not so bad." Loki's heart stumbled at your words, only to start pounding in his chest as you continued. "I'm starting to wonder if you're bad at all."
For the first time in ages, the god found himself unable to form words, a warmth blooming in both his gut and his chest. "Anytime, darling."
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A/N: Made this for @glitchquake because we should be allowed to wear cute workout clothes without worry about creepy fckers that 100% deserve stabbies when they try to bust out their creep factor 😤
'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist
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lexirosewrites · 15 hours
Text
Steddie as rival lawyers who have very different careers.
Steve became a prosecuting attorney after graduating from a top school at his parents’ insistence. It pays well and makes them happy, even if it’s joyless for him to fight for things he doesn’t believe in.
Prosecuting innocent people and fighting for the sake of money without morals.
On the other end of the spectrum is free-spirited Eddie Munson. He’s a defense attorney who shows up in ill-fitting suits that show off his many neck and hand tattoos. Piercings in his ears and hair that’s not tidy or tamed in any way.
He’s a rebel who barely graduated from some lower tier law school with no prestige whatsoever.
Steve naturally assumed their first trial would be a breeze.
But somehow— sheer dumb luck, bad jury selection, or just stupid fate— Eddie wins. And he keeps winning.
Over and over for months.
Steve’s long uninterrupted winning streak becomes a losing one. If Eddie’s in the courtroom too, Steve knows he’s already lost his case.
It’s humbling.
Actually, it’s frankly embarrassing to lose to someone who’s so unprofessional and doesn’t take the law seriously like Steve.
Eddie is respectful of course, but he doesn’t use lawyer-speak unless he’s referencing a precedent of a law. Other than that, he’s overly casual and friendly. Everyone’s favorite lawyer.
He doesn’t lack passion though. No, the guy all but hops up on tables to make speeches about freedom or the American dream during every trial. Utterly ridiculous.
It works though. The juries fall for his bullshit about being down to earth and his clients walk free because of it.
Steve can’t stand it. He can’t stand Eddie and his mockery of his career.
This ultimately culminates in a confrontation in the parking lot one night after a particularly tense trial conclusion.
Once again, Eddie’s guy walked free and Steve knows he’s gonna hear about it from his boss (who also happens to be his dad).
So he might snap a bit when Eddie comes out whistling and looking happier than anything.
“Hey, jackass!”
Eddie looks around like Steve might be referring to some other jackass, despite the otherwise empty parking lot.
He points to himself in question and Steve rolls his eyes in answer.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Eddie finally greets him with a smirk. “Chinese takeout for tonight sound good?”
Steve’s stomach growls at the mere suggestion.
He’d accidentally skipped lunch earlier so he could make changes to his closing argument. Fat load of good that did him.
“Yeah, sure, whatever. You’re not off the hook that easily though. What the hell was that brutal cross examination on my witness, you dickhead?”
Eddie smiles extra sweetly and presses a quick but affectionate kiss to Steve’s forehead first.
“All’s fair in love, war, and court, baby. You can whine about it later when we’re home if you really want to. I happen to know some very nice pillows that would love to muffle your pretty little moans.”
Asshole.
He blushes, glancing around to make sure they’re still alone before he pulls Eddie into an embrace.
They’ve barely spent any time together this week because of the tense trial and he really missed his boyfriend (not to be mistaken for the jackass who argues with him daily in the courtroom).
As much as they can separate their personal and work lives, it’s hard to not be on the same side of things.
“What if I want you to hear me moan, Eddie? I think it’s only fair since you seem to get everyone else off and I’m the one always suffering for it,” he mumbles snarkily into Eddie’s shirt.
Eddie laughs at the pun. He knew that he would.
“Is that why you’re sulking, babylove? You want me to get you off too?” He nods with a pathetic whine. Not getting to cum for a few days can do that to a person. “I think that can be arranged. You’ve been such a good boy for me lately. You’ve earned a treat.”
Steve melts into his boyfriend’s arms, feeling loved.
“I missed you.”
Another kiss to the forehead, but this time Eddie’s lips linger there as he speaks.
“Missed you too, sweetheart. Not sorry for winning, but I am sorry that you lost.”
Steve knew the defendant was innocent. There wasn’t much of a case to be made anyway. It still stings though.
“Yeah... I’ve been thinking about that and it might be time to quit my dad’s firm. I’d much rather be on the same side as you,” Steve confesses.
Eddie pauses.
“Does that mean…”
Steve looks up smiling and confirms, “Yes. I’ll accept the job offer if it’s still on the table.”
The rival lawyer had offered him a job months ago, before they even got together.
By accepting the position, it means they’d finally be allowed to be a couple publicly and they’d be sitting on the same side of the court for once.
It would also free Steve from his dad’s control and disappointment.
“Stevie, I’d love nothing more than to have you as my partner. In both the court and life. I love you, sweetheart.”
He can’t resist.
“I love you too… jackass.”
Eddie makes good on his promise to get Steve off that night. He even brings out the handcuffs for accuracy sake.
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mariasont · 3 days
Text
Office Sleepover - A.H
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a/n: this is honestly kind of shit but whatever
might make this a mini series?
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)
warnings: reader kind of flashes hotch, really inconsistent with how the gov works i'm sure, there's also definitely not an oven in the break room but in my world there is <3
wc: 3.8k
Hotch's voice reached you, but the words tangled into an indecipherable code as they hit the air. You nodded, a reflex, but it was as if your brain had short-circuited. You could make out fragments--a hit on you, stay at office, 24/7 protection, you can take the back office. But no matter how many times he said it, it seemed to ricochet through your head, making less sense each time. You were on a hit list? A hit list?
It all felt very made up, like a script ripped straight out of a tv show. Risk was a part of the BAU job description, but a hit list? For a fleeting moment, a chuckle hovered at the brink of your lips, but it was swiftly swallowed by a wave of dread that rose in its place. You blinked a couple times, probably too many in a vain attempt to clear the fog and bring Hotch's face into focus.
"But what about all my stuff? And you want me to camp out here in the office? For how long, Hotch? I mean, I'm all for overtime, but this is... this is a lot, and I--," you babble, your speech racing ahead of your thoughts. "And my baking? That's my biggest stress reliever. Not to mention my DIY projects--I can't just abandon my half-finished throw pillowcases. Plus, how many pairs of shoes is too many for an office closet?"
Your pout formed a delicate bow, and though he said nothing, his eyes softened. Hotch could feel the frown marring his features. He might never say it, but seeing you like this struck a chord, making it a little hard to breathe. 
Circling the desk, he planted himself in front of you, his hand settling on your shoulder. "Hey, take a deep breath," he urges softly. "Let's take it one step at a time. List out what you need, someone will bring it here. Your baking supplies, DIY projects, even your shoes."
True to Hotch's word, as usual, you found every piece of your life carefully compartmentalized into cardboard boxes, lined up carefully in the office that now doubled as your temporary room. There was an odd sense of dislocation in finishing your workday and needing only to count about thirty steps before arriving at your room.
You swung the door closed, the sound sealing the room as a deep sigh wrapped around you and you started sifting through the boxes. The pullout couch serving as your bed was less than appealing, its worn fabric making you grimace internally. Nevertheless, you diverted your attention, busying yourself with the organizing of your extensive collection of things. Spencer would definitely shake his head at the sight of the vast amount of clothes you had brought.
The irony wasn't lost on you; surrounded by the office's ceaseless motion, yet you felt more alone than in the stillness of your own apartment. God, this was pathetic, and you needed a drink, but you had a nagging suspicion the office handbook would have a thing or two to say about that. You spent a solid two hours attempting to infuse the sterile space with a touch of home, it wasn't perfect (at all), but it would have to do.
Rossi knocks on the doorframe, poking his head in with a grin. "I didn't realize we were redecorating the bureau in shades of bubblegum," he teases. "How you doing, kid?"
"Actually, it's blush," you correct with a mock-serious tone, meeting his smile with one of your own. "I'm fine," you insist, but Rossi's knowing look prompts a quick add-on. "I am, really, I mean I've always said I wanted my own office."
"An office with a view of the bullpen, no less. You're living the dream," he says, his eyes scanning the room. "Need any help with anything? Or anything else from your place? Maybe your favorite mug to make feel more like home?"
"Don't worry, I'm already one step ahead of you," you assure him, revealing a drawer brimming with mugs.
Rossi lets out a low appreciative whistle. "Why am I not surprised?" he chuckles with a broad grin. "Well, I'm heading out for the night. Remember, I'm just a call away if you need anything. And Hotch is still here, buried in paperwork as usual."
He left, and you were alone--a cue to try and cling to some normalcy of your routine; you drew the blinds and slipped into the comfort of your pajamas. You hauled yourself off to the office bathroom, reluctantly at that, and proceeded to attend to your skincare, brush your hair, and polish your smile with a thorough teeth brushing.
Eyeing the hallway warily, you made a silent exit from the bathroom, the carpet softening your footfalls. But in your rush to avoid prying eyes, you crashed into a solid wall of a figure, the force sending you tumbling backward. You hit the floor with a muted thud, your ass hitting the ground, legs splayed inelegantly in front of you. Your eyes rose to meet the firm, penetrating look of Hotch. Of fucking course.
There was a pause as Hotch's eyes drank in the sight of your flushed complexion and the wide, doe-like eyes that seemed to capture the light just so. He felt like his heart could stop then and there. And he knew it was wrong, but he certainly liked the sight of you sprawled below him. He blinked, breaking the trance, and offered a concerned, "Are you okay?" His hands were outstretched, ready to pull you back to your feet. 
Your cheeks turned a deeper shade as you held onto Hotch's hand, the feeling unexpectedly comforting, rough in yours but nice. "What? Oh, yeah, I'm all good, sorry about that," you managed to say, the words squeaking out a tad too eagerly. 
You stood up, and his closeness was all-consuming. You were suddenly intensely aware of every breath, every throb of your heart, and your mind went blank; the usual stream of thoughts replaced by a buzzing silence.
His eyes held yours for a fraction longer than necessary before he stepped back, creating a respectful distance. The hallway's warmth seemed to dissipate with the space, leaving you with an unexpected stab of disappointment. 
"Rossi said you'd be here. Anything I can do to help?" 
You rationalized the offer as a gesture of your goodwill, but a small part, well a big part, of you knew just wanted to be close to him, to be alone with him maybe--in the office, after hours, in his office. This was weird, I mean, you'd always admired your Unit Chief, but this was different. You chalked it up to the day's unfortunate series of events--you were tired, and lonely, and you needed desperately to snap out of it before you made a fool out of yourself.
"No, you need to rest. It's been a long day, and you've been through enough." He paused, his gaze assessing you. "How are you holding up?"
"At this rate, I'll need a sign that says 'I'm fine,' to stop the check-ins." Although you silently doubted that would deter him. You gesture to the surroundings. "And this? It's like a sleepover at work. Just hoping this so-called hit man doesn't show up."
Hotch internally recoiled at your words, leaving him with the sensation of a cold grasp tightening around his heart. He cleared his throat, the joke falling flat in the gravity of his concern. "I'll be here for a while longer. If you need anything, don't hesitate to come find me," he managed a nod before retreating to his office.
A while longer? You knew Hotch was a workaholic, but it now occurred to you that he must never sleep. Quickly, you gathered your scattered belongings, and made your way to your office.
The pull-out couch seemed even less inviting than you remembered, if that was possible. You perched on the edge, the metallic frame cold through the thin mattress. As you lay down, the couch seemed to swallow you in its awkward angles. Perfect. Tossing and turning, you struggled to find a comfortable spot. Eventually, exhaustion won over discomfort, the rhythm of your own breathing lulling you into a fitful sleep.
Your eyes flickered open at some point during the night and the blinds drifted apart, as if by an unseen hand, and through the gap, your eyes fell on a hooded figure, the face not visible in the dim light. Your muscles locked in terror, an icy fear clawing its way up your spine as you tried to move--to reach for your gun, to call out for Hotch, to do anything. But as if imprisoned by an invisible force, you could only watch, confined to the bed, as the figure crept towards the door. 
A scream tore from your throat, a raw and piercing sound that ricocheted off the walls and echoed through your eyes. This was it, you thought. 
Then, in an instant, you were awake and disoriented, your breaths coming in short bursts, and your body covered in a sheen of cold sweat. Your fingers clenched the sheets, the fabric twisting in your grasp as you fought to decipher what was reality. Your eyes snapped to the blinds, half-expecting to see the figure from your dream materialize, but the emptiness beyond them slowly calmed your racing heart.
With a throat dry as parchment and your pulse still echoing in your ears, you drifted from your room towards the break room. As you ambled past Hotch's office, you paused. The door, slightly ajar, felt like an invitation. Despite knowing better, a foggy curiosity nudged your feet forward. With a shaky breath, you eased the door open wider and slipped inside. 
His office felt different at night--it was quieter, more personal, and you felt like an intruder on Hotch's private world. You took a moment, absorbing the sight of his meticulously organized desk, the case files that were always present.
It was tempting to try to piece together the man from his workspace, but you held back. As you turned to leave, a familiar scent stopped you--the subtle hint of his cologne hanging in the air. It wrapped around you, easing the tension that had sunk into your limbs. Almost without thinking, you found yourself sinking into the couch.
The room, infused with his distinct scent, seemed to have your blinking growing heavier, more intentional. You nestled deeper into the cushions; the fabric familiar beneath your fingers, lulling you into a sense of security. Just five minutes, you thought.
Hotch's steps were slow, his eyelids having a hard time staying open as he made his way through the bullpen. He carried his briefcase, the leather handle worn and conformed to his hand. He contemplated a detour to your office, a silent check-in to ease his mind, but he dismissed the idea--you were probably still asleep, and he'd definitely look like a creep. Reaching his own office, he noticed the door ajar, a sliver of morning light spilling through the gap.
He stepped into the room, and time seemed to stand still as his gaze landed on the couch. There you were, fast asleep on his couch. Your hand lay gently under your cheek, a makeshift pillow softening the hard angles beneath, while your nose gave the faintest twitches. Your lips were parted as if mid-whisper and strands of your hair were splayed in a disarrayed crown around your head. He knew that in no way could that have been comfortable. It hurt his back just looking at you, but still you looked so peaceful.
He moved with quiet steps, heat creeping up his neck as he placed his things on the desk. Turning back to you, he couldn't help but notice the gentle dishevelment of your pajamas, buttons undone in innocent disarray, the fabric parting to reveal the gentle slope of your breasts. He felt an odd mix of emotions--a gentle chiding for finding you in such state, and the guilt of finding the sight so undeniably sweet. 
A quiet cough escaped him, more out of habit than necessity, as he approached a cabinet where blankets were neatly stacked--a nod to many nights spent just as you were. He draped one over you, his movements slow and unhurried, shielding you from potential curious eyes before finding his normal place behind the wooden desk.
He tried to focus--really, he did. I mean, he had a towering pile of paperwork and responsibilities that demanded his attention. But despite his best efforts, his gaze involuntarily drifted to you time and time again. It was as if he needed visual confirmation of your steady breathing to assure himself that you were okay. He thought about you here all night, alone, and he found his knuckles whiten against the grip of his pen. He knew you had security on you at all times, but somehow, he found no comfort in that.
Hotch's eyes flicked to the clock--7:30 am. You still had at least another half an hour before you technically needed to start work, although truth be told he would let you sleep as long as your body allowed. There was no way in hell he was going to disturb you when you looked so content. 
As Hotch worked, the morning light grew stronger, casting a warm glow over his desk. It was nearly 9 am when the sound of shifting fabric eventually roused you. You were waking up, blinking away the remnants of sleep, confusion etched on your face. As your eyes caught sight of the clock and Hotch, mortification set it. 
"Oh my gosh, Hotch. I am so sorry," you blurted out, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. "You could've woken me up--I... I should've set an alarm. And I shouldn't even be here, but I can explain, sort of..."
In a flurry of motion, you leapt from the couch, only to feel a sudden tug at your chest as a button from your top snagged on a stray thread. The fabric pulled open, revealing way more than what was appropriate for your boss to see. Your face turned a shade redder as you scrambled to cover up. Hotch, momentarily sidetracked by the sight of the cleavage of your tits once again, quickly refocused and interrupted your flustered explanations.
"It's fine," he assured. "Given everything that's happened, you needed the rest." He nodded towards the couch. "You're always welcome to sleep here if you need to--though I can't promise it'll be any more comfortable next time."
"Oh no, it was super comfortable, really," you insist, despite the awkwardness clinging to your words. Hotch gives you a look that says he's not entirely convinced. "Okay, well, I'm going to uh... go," you mumble, stopping short at the door with a sudden concern.
Hotch understands immediately and offers, "They're all in the briefing room--won't be out for a while."
With a relieved nod, and minimal eye contact, you dash out, hoping to reach your office unnoticed. But because the world just hated you these past days, just as you're rushing by, Morgan's hands come to your shoulders to stop you.
"Easy there, mama," he teases, a smile on his face. But as he gets a good look at your attire, his grin grows wider. "What in the world...?" he starts, laughter in his voice. He glances from you to Hotch's office door, then back again. "Hold up, hold up--you didn't... with Hotch? Are you?"
"What? No, Morgan, absolutely not! Why would you even--oh my god," you gasp, wishing the ground would swallow you whole. God, I mean, the day hasn't even started, and you needed it to end. Realizing your voice has risen in your flustered state, you quickly lower it to a harsh whisper, your eyes darting around to ensure no one overheard. "Why would you even suggest that?"
"Um, maybe because you're making a grand exit from the boss man's office in your PJs? Just a wild guess."
"No, Morgan, it's not what you think," you insist, but your attention snaps to the sound of the team's voices nearing the door. "I don't have time for this," you mutter, darting back to your office. 
In a whirlwind, you shed the pajamas, slip into your work attire, and hastily run a brush through your hair. Good enough. 
You threw yourself into work, the stack of papers becoming a welcome distraction, a rare sense of relief rather than the familiar dread. It was a considerable effort to divert your mind from the distractions--Hotch, the hit man, and Morgan's incessant teasing. Not that anyone would believe that you and Hotch were together; he was the very definition of sophisticated, handsome, and successful, and you were just, well, you.
Not that there was anything wrong with you. You liked yourself just fine; you laughed too loudly at jokes, talked to your houseplants as if they were your old friends, and you had an odd fascination with weather patterns. These things made you wholly you. You just knew you couldn't be more different from Hotch.
With a bit of luck and purposeful avoiding, your day passed smoothly, sparing you any unnecessary run-ins with Hotch. Everyone had gone home for the day which is why you stood in the break room attempting some baking recipe from Pinterest. 
The slippers on your feet padded against the carpet as you hummed around the room. With swift motions, you ushered the coffee cake batter into the oven, then turned to tackle the mess you had created on the countertops. Cleaning as you go wasn't your usual style, but office break room didn't seem like the place for your usual creative sprawl. 
Your phone had buzzed incessantly with Penelope's calls--her offers the keep you company is why you loved her, but you weren't going to subject her to that, no matter how many times she said she didn't mind.
Hotch's office was quiet, save for the soft scratching of his pen against paper as he finally closed his files. He moved into bullpen and as he passed the breakroom, the soft hum of the light and faint sound of movement drew him in. There you were, engrossed in tidying up, with your hair casually gathered above your shoulders and wearing your sweats, Hotch found him instinctively pausing to watch. 
He knew he shouldn't bother you, knew he was likely the last person you'd want to see, yet he found himself rooted to the spot, his gaze fixed on you, the warmth in his chest intensifying with each fleeting second.
The moment you turned and saw a figure, a sharp gasp cut through the silence, and the icing in your grasp became a sweet projectile that flew across the room. Relief washed over you as you realized who it was.
"Jeez, Hotch, give me a heart attack why don't you," you said, half-laughing as your heart rate settled. "Especially when there's a hitman who might beat you to the punch."
Hotch parted his lips to speak, but you were quicker, a stream of thoughts tumbling out before you could stop them. "I thought everyone was gone. You weren't at your desk earlier--oh wait, you had that meeting with the DOJ, right? Did they have anything about the people who marked me?" 
In your haste, you closed the gap between you, and only then did you spot the icing on his cheek. "Oh, sorry about that, Hotch," you said with an apologetic grin, reaching out as if to wipe it away. 
As your palm made contact with his skin, a shared realization of the intimacy of the gesture washed over you. Time seemed to slow as your thumb traced a lingering path through the icing, your whisper barely audible, "There."
The word seemed to hang in the air as you froze, the proximity suddenly overwhelming, your breath caught in your throat. Hotch's backward step was almost imperceptible, but it was enough. You cleared your throat awkwardly, cheeks warming with a flush. "Um, did you need something?"
Hotch shook his head slightly, "No, just wanted to check on your before I head out."
You gave a thumbs up, mustering a smile. "Well, consider me checked."
Hotch nodded, his expression unreadable. "Goodnight," he said, to which you echoed in response as you watched him leave.
Alone now, you slumped against the counter, your hand pressed to your face. Consider me checked? God, someone needed to tape your mouth shut.
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icyminghao · 3 days
Text
like you want me
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pairing: jeonghan x gn!reader genre: fluff, drabble, friends to lovers warning(s): none word count: 0.8k
summary: you’re enjoying yourself at a party with some friends on just another typical night. only, a certain someone seems to keep staring at you.
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“God, Jeonghan, just go talk to them already. It’s painful watching you be like this,” Seungcheol groans for the third time in the past hour, nudging his friend in pure desperation. Jeonghan begrudgingly tears his eyes away from your figure from across the room to give Seungcheol an uninterested look.
“Painful watching me be like what?”
“Your eyes have been on them the second they walked in, and they’ve never left.” Joshua pipes up from Jeonghan’s other side, letting out a chuckle at Seungcheol’s exasperated sigh at Jeonghan’s apparent obliviousness.
“…They have? I haven’t noticed.” Jeonghan quirks an eyebrow in response, failing to notice that his eyes have subconsciously made its way back to you from across the room, giggling and laughing at whatever your friends had said.
He can’t help the way the edges of his lips soften and curl up just the tiniest bit, something his friends definitely do not miss.
“You know, if you’re not going to talk to them, Mingyu did mention his interest in them a while ago. Maybe I should set them up—”
“Don’t you dare,” Jeonghan cuts Joshua off at the mention of their heartthrob of an underclassman, levelling at the latter a piercing glare that shuts him up immediately.
Dread fills Jeonghan’s senses as he turns back to where you’re supposed to be, only to be unable to spot you anywhere.
“Where did they-”
“I saw them go outside. A while ago,” Seungcheol quips, clearly amused at the sight of a panicked Jeonghan.
Jeonghan nods quickly, moving to leave the house without providing an excuse. The boys knew he’d be going after you, anyway.
Sure enough, Jeonghan finds you leaning against the front porch as soon as he steps out of the house. You’re looking up at the night sky so peacefully that Jeonghan feels bad walking into a private moment.
“y/n? What are you doing here?” you turn your head towards Jeonghan’s voice, making no move to back away as he moves to stand beside you.
“Just… had to clear my head,” you reply, returning your attention to the starless sky.
Jeonghan simply nods, subconsciously unable to tear his gaze away from you. You turn to make eye contact with him after a while, holding his gaze as his cheeks gradually flare up.
“Why do you always look at me like that?” you speak up, no hint of teasing in your voice.
Jeonghan freezes. “Like what?”
“Like you… want me.”
Jeonghan shakes his head, going into flight mode, “Let’s have this conversation when you’re sober-”
“I am sober!” you cut him off, “I haven’t touched a single drop of alcohol the moment I stepped foot into that dingy house. I thought you would know, since all you’ve been doing the entire time we were there was look at me.”
Outwardly, Jeonghan stays rooted to the floor, saying nothing. Inwardly, Jeonghan is freaking out, reeling at the fact that you’d actually been noticing him looking at you at the party.
Jeonghan turns towards the sky, resting both arms on the porch. “And if I do?”
“Do what?” you reply, mirroring his actions.
“And if I do want you?” Jeonghan manages to get out without freaking out in front of you, and now it’s your turn to freeze.
You speak up after a while, “This was not how I expected the conversation to go,”
“Well, what did you expect then?” Jeonghan jests, having regained some of his composure from the silence.
“I don’t know, deny it! Get defensive! Tell me I’m being delusional!” you blabber, clearly flustered. Jeonghan smiles in endearment, resisting the urge to cup your face in his hands and squish your cheeks.
“But you’re not,” he simply replies in the softest voice he can muster, looking at you endearingly, “I’m in love with you, y/n. I have been since we met in high school, and I’m unfortunately still catastrophically in love with you now.”
Your mouth opens and closes in shock, clearly not expecting a confession. You clear your throat, a hint of a smile appearing on your face, “Unfortunately?”
Jeonghan chuckles. “Well, that’s subject to change depending on how you feel.”
“Well, then, I hope you’ll be happy to know that I feel the same, Hannie,” you grin adoringly at him, using the nickname that never fails to make him blush furiously, “I’m in love with you, too.”
For a while, the both of you just smile at each other like idiots as a comfortable silence ensues, neither of you wanting to interrupt the special moment.
“So,” Jeonghan pipes up after a while, still smiling, “do I have the honour of being your boyfriend?”
You beam at him. “Take me on a date first?”
Jeonghan chuckles, leaning the tiniest bit closer to you. “Gladly.”
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a/n: my writing skills have definitely regressed 💀 but i’ve more or less finished my shorter wips now, which means i’m left with the bigger projects T-T currently working on like 2 fics at once and have a lot more to work on other than those 2 so i’ll try my best! also sorry if this is unsatisfactory 😔
taglist (send an ask to be added!): @slytherinshua @viscade @pepperonidk @belladaises @tastymintchocolate @dahliatopia @kwantaro @chanceonceli @hrts4hanniehae @leehanascent @nonononranghaee
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fraugwinska · 3 days
Note
Follow up idea to the person who suggested that lovely birthday doodle request,, Reader who can draw proficiently as a hobby and often sketches folks at the hotel in their sketch book. Alastor is a bit offended that no matter what it seems as though he’s no where in this book, when they retire for the night he brings it up almost as if he’s jealous and they laugh at him. He’s upset because now he feels as though they are making fun of him until they retrieve another book and turns out they draw him in privacy (he’s so special he has his own book) It’s so cute too theres little heart doodles and them holding hands everywhere
Darling, how can I say no to 1) you *handheart* and 2) to such a cute pürompt? Make way, guys, gals and non-binary pals, here comes the fluff-queen!
❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️
Pictures of You
“ME NEXT! ME NEXT!” You tugged your sketchbook out of Niffty's small but surprisingly strong fingers. The little demon giggled and almost fell from your shoulder, making you laugh.
“Niff, any more doodles of you and I'd have to pay you royalties. Also, Angel asked first.”
You grinned, turning another page of the thick binder to an empty canvas and twirled the coal pen in your hand. Husk had just involuntarily changed his sleeping position from 'face in hands' to 'face on counter', groaning at the impact, so you wanted to start anew. Niffty resumed to braid your hair – you often let her just do what she wanted, she had a knack for it anyways – and huffed. “You only want to draw him because he can do impossible poses.” “Well, he is flexible.”
“Comes with the job, sweet cheeks.” Angel, who had entered through the door, grinned at you, taking his pink heart-shaped sunglasses off while he walked behind you, leaning over your shoulder. “Aw, toots, you really are talented, Husky looks like a snack there. Can I have that when 'ya done?”
“Have what, my effeminate fellow?” Angel jumped as Alastor materialized behind him without warning, releasing a startled 'Jesus Christ on a cracker!' while his lower set of arms clung onto your tensed shoulders. The radio demon laughed heartily, bending over slightly to look past Angel's head. He craned his neck and reached with his cane, forcing you to lean sideways so he could examine what you were drawing.
You flinched at the contact with the strangely warm metal, but didn't look up from the page. You only gripped the black coal tighter, feeling it beginning to crack. Alastor hummed in what sounded almost fond praise, giving a brief tap to Husk's shape on the paper.
"Marvelous! What a talent you have." he proclaimed. "Although I have to ask again, my dear, how come you never draw me? Surely I could..."
You lifted a finger, face scrunched up in concentration and shook your head, eyes firmly on the almost finished sketch. Alastor clicked his tongue in a displeased way, clawed fingers impatiently tapping the microphone at the end of his cane.
"Really, dearest. I have a great interest for-"
"Hold on!"
"-a unique idea of the possibilities-"
"Done!"
As you finished, you stretched your cramped hand, setting down the charcoal on the armrest of the red plush sofa and rubbing your fingers to get rid of the black stains. You ripped the paper out of the sketchbook and handed it to Angel, carefully avoiding Alastors burning eyes and ignoring the angry static pops sizzling on your skin.
"There you go, Ange. You can lock it in with a little coat of hairspray, otherwise it will smudge easily."
You hastily stood up, letting Niffty tumble down your back onto the sofa with a wild giggle while you quickly assembled your things. You saw Alastor open his mouth and interrupted whatever speech he might've wanted to deliver you, your heart racing and mouth unusually dry.
"Oh, would you look at the time, I promised Charlie to get laundry done by the evening, I better get going. Maybe another time, yeah? Okay, bye!"
You were already through the door by the time he had registered you leaving, mouth half-open and ready to protest against whatever injustice he felt you had done him. His eyebrow twitched slightly at your retreating figure, eyes flickering between the corner you disappeared around and Angel Dust, the latter laughing mockingly at the deer.
"Aw shucks, failing again, deer daddy? What is it now, the fifth time she blew 'ya off?"
"The seventh.", Niffty corrects him, scratching on the black spot where you had set the charcoal in between your work. Alastor gave her a sour expression, while Angel leaned back, eyeing the sketch of his subject of interest with lovingly.
"Maybe she took 'ya by heart, Smiles. Don't 'ya always say 'ya got a face for radio only?"
***
Alastor was fuming.
Everyone was in that damn book, everyone. And yet, he was nowhere in it to be found.
In his opinion he was far superior in beauty of aesthetics then, for example, Angel Dust, or Vaggie. Hell, Husk had even made an entry, and all he did was lay around and drink himself into oblivion. Why would you take the time to sketch these nobodies in detail instead of him? Was he that unimportant to you, did you deem him that unworthy? Or was this your subtle way of making fun of his appearance, his laughable predicament of being a predator in a prey body?
He thought he'd have been generous enough not to reprimand you, or destroy that damned book all together after all this time. It was your luck that he had developed a strange fondness of you. Alastor only ever bothered himself with a few souls since his arrival in hell, and his encounter with you was a happy coincidence indeed. You were so much less annoying, so much more quiet and respectful than most of the demons around him, with your charcoal pen behind your ear and a keen eye for beautiful things that you turned into artworks like it was your second nature.
And even though you've always seemed to take a liking to him, his patient questions for a sketch, a portrait or just anything of him was met by you with dismissiveness, awkward excuses or outright evading, only ever drawing other sinners, even the cursed piglet Angel called a pet. But never, never him.
This couldn't go on any longer. He would talk to you about it, and either you would draw him willingly or you would draw nothing at all.
Your room was located only three corridors down his own suite, right across of a broken down door. Despite the late hour you had left the door cracked open, music faintly streaming through it along the orange light of your desk lamp. Which meant you were still awake. Still working. Still drawing.
The door made no sound when he pushed it open, carefully peeking his head inside. He was right, your back was hunched over your desk, completely lost in your work while your voice hummed along with the little melody from the radio.
The radio he had gifted you. He snapped his fingers and the music screeched loudly before coming to a stop, the radio dying instantly and making you jump in your seat.
"JESUS!" You whipped your head around, clutching your heart. He gave his best charming smile, red eyes narrowing in on you.
"No dear, it's just me." he smiled maliciously and closed the door behind him, it clicking ominously shut. Locked. You laughed awkwardly, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face and hastily closed the thick, black sketchbook on the desk shut, a different one than the one from before. A new one. Another cursed one without him in it, surely.
"Haha, thank satan, I'm not dressed to meet the son of god." you quibbed, avoiding his gaze and twirling your pencil, something you always did when you were nervous.
He didn't join into your joke, instead he walked over to your dresser, where the filled sketchbook from before laid. Open, showing a detailed drawing of Keekee stretching in front of the fireplace. The blasted cat was the last straw.
"Why," Alastor spoke sharply, barely registering his antlers sprouting in angry cracks, "are there any and every sinners and creatures depicted in that... doggone, ridiculous thing?".
His words were spat with so much anger he missed your scared and confused look when you pushed your chair back, almost tripping and scrambling to get away. "What? Alastor, I..."
He hit the book once, almost tearing the thick parchment. "And not one mention of me? You have no idea how utterly vexing and insulting it is to feel ignored, or rather unnoted! What did I do, oh do tell, dear, that makes you think of me so below you that you just outright forget my existence?!"
Again, he hit the book, feeling it starting to rip from the amount of pent up frustration tightening his grip. But it did feel good, immensely so, to take it out on the damn thing he would have shredded weeks ago, if you didn't enjoy it so much.
"N-Nothing, you really don't... you don't understand...", you laughed nervously, eyes too pleading, too soft for his liking, as if you mocked him or worse: Pitied him. The thought alone fueled his anger further.
"Then I advise you to make me understand, my darling.", he growled, shoes scratching on the wooden floors with each step as he neared you, pressing you against the desk. "Because otherwise, I have no inhibitions to incinerate every single one of these god damn..."
"I draw you all the time. In your own book."
You grabbed the sketch book from the desk and thrust it in his face, spouting more nonsense with teary eyes that went deaf through his ears, only glaring at the cover and then opening it, ready for anything.
Nothing. Nothing but him.
There was no mention of anyone else.
There was nothing but him. His face. Portraits, stills, sketches, whole sceneries, doodles even.
Pages and pages full of his own features, his eyes looking back at him, so carefully captured in coal lines that his head reeled.
There he was, walking in long strides through the lobby, hair perfect and suit straight, the drawing so detailed it could've been a photography. On the other side was a picture of him, his eyes narrowed, showing no emotion as he stared down at the hotel papers in his hand. The next page, he was captured in a fight with that buffoon Sir Pentious, his is mouth cracked in an evil smile, claws stretched and ready to snap the snakes' airship in half.
And ever in between those artworks: Little doodles, as if drawn with an absent mind, of him and you. Holding hands. Embracing each other. Laughing together. Gazing into each others eyes. Silly hearts all around them.
Alastor almost dropped the book and the shakily uttered your name, for once truly at a loss for words.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Alastor...", he finally heard your muttering, voice trembling with tears. "I didn't know how... I was just... so... so embarrassed, and..."
Embarrassed. The absolute absurdity of it all.
Here he had been, worried you found him beneath the beauty you held in such esteem, wounded even so much as to bring out this unjustified anger. The fool he was. He was an idiot to have not considered the other possible explanations for your reticence.
Slowly, carefully, as if you'd spook and run should he move too fast, Alastor wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, still holding the book safely in his hand, pressing it into your back. At his will, his shadow lifted a hand and turned the radio on once again, a low hum resounding from the speakers as the soothing, quiet music continued.
"Mon cœur, the unnecessary pain you caused us both. And yet, I'm the one who has to apologize.", he said with an honesty he rarely spoke with. "We're both, evidently, quite hopeless. No use in keeping these feelings and words unsaid any longer then, hm? Can you forgive this old fool?"
You stared at him bewildered, at a loss for words yourself, before a relieved smile cracked your worried frown. Shiny tear streaks were running over your reddening cheeks, he wiped them off your face with a soft swipe of his thumb.
"Of course... As long as I can continue drawing you." You chuckled and pushed your face into his chest, Alastor was more than certain to hide the flush of your cheeks. He chuckled, gripping the book in his hands tighter as he buried his nose in your hair. You smelled like paper, paint and charcoal. And underneath it all lingered the scent of something new, yet familiar. Something... very much like him.
"Draw the both of us like this to perfection, darling, and that would be a deal worth to agree on."
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blingblong55 · 2 days
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Cola- John Price NSFW
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Based on a request: Ma’am, hello & how are you? I hope I’m not bombarding you with a lot of requests. I was listening to Older by Isabel LaRosa and I have imagination of Fem!Reader x Price (PeePaw) Reader (early twenties), fresh graduate and a newbie in TF141 handling weapons stocks (or whatever you call it, lol). Met Price for the first time and her daddy issues vibrating. Both taken a liking of each other (im sucker for love at first sight)….. I leave the rest up to your imagination and creativity ☺️. Please ignore this request if goes against your FAQ. Thank you 🫶🏼 ---- F!Reader, smut, 18+, MDNI, oral!sex, age!gap ----
A/N: short...I know and also a bit shit...
When you met him, it was like something clicked. The smiles you both flashed towards each other were something rather sweet. Your heart flutters, cheeks reddened and you became nervous. Your mind scrambles, trying to find an excuse to approach him and for him, it was the same. His mouth dries, eyes not being able to look away from you. What is it about you that makes him feel like a teen once more? Would you two have the chance to even talk?
You are new to base and the team your mentor, Laswell, listed you in. You became an armourer for the team and being your first day, you needed to have a meeting with the captain of the team. Fuck, I hope it's him, you think. Your eyes are on his body. Why must you be into men much older than you? It's a curse but a blessing. 
Once in his office, he sighs and nods you to sit down. "You must be Y/N?" He sits down and lights up his cigar as he sizes you up. A smirk plays on his lips. Fuck, I can't think of her this way, he thinks. 
....
The meeting is long, a rundown of what the team does, the values it holds and what you'll be doing later in the day. He smiles but tries to fight it off. He asks you to talk about yourself, a mediocre excuse to listen to your voice for longer. It's like he needs to know you for more than just being in the same team. As John leans back into his seat, he lets the smoke fill the room. Between laughter and comments, he and you can feel the attraction arise. 
He smiles, and leans in, "You said men your age don't treat you write?" Oh what a comment this could lead to. As you explain why, he smirks. Maybe a man like himself can fix the little issues you have. John begins to take notes about you, the way you talk and how you smile at fond memories that you mention casually. 
....
With days, he calls you back to his office, this happens over and over. From light conversations to the ones that make you tear up that lead to him playing the role of the man you truly need. "C'mere doll," he says and pats his leg. With teary eyes you sit on his lap and nuzzle your face on his neck, his strong arms wrapping around you. One of his hands cups your face and wipes your tears away. 
Is it wrong he wants this so much more when you cry and depend on him? Can you be his little secret? You'll understand when he asks that your sweet lips lay on his, right? or how by now, his breath is close to your lips. 
"Kiss me, yeah?" he asks with a whisper. 
You lean in, letting him take control of this moment now. Your body wrapped around his and now he cups your face, needing you closer than before. 
Fuck does he need your mouth wrapped around something else. He shakes his head and pulls away, "On your knees, doll," he commands and you obey so perfectly. 
He unzips his jeans and pulls your hand onto his cock, your lovely hands playing with his balls. Slowly, he pulls his cock out and he groans as you slowly lick his tip, your pretty eyes on him. "Oh fuck..." he whispers and pushes your head in. His hand gripping your hair, guiding you to his own need. You gag, eyes teary as you suck him off. Your sweet lips make him more aggressive, he curses you and his grip tightens on your neck when he feels his cock bulge inside of you. 
His balls tighten, his head thrown back and then he bucks his hips. "Fuck....oh fuck you're so good," he groans and just as drool falls from your mouth, he cums in your pretty throat. "Oh the things you make me do, Y/N. I promise next time, I'll show you why men like me are so good for pretty things like you." His lips meet your forehead before they kiss your swollen lips. 
A/N: This was rushed..sorry pookie
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