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#mr motionless
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THEY ARE SO CUNTY
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forcefedthelies · 2 years
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big news guys
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bun chris
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ominousmotion · 2 months
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I feel like i need to let yall know if i ever get meet and great tickets for miw there is a 90% chance that i will address chris as mr motionless
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montcumbry-gaytor · 1 year
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Pictures of Mr. Motionless you haven't seen cause I took them yesterday
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miwtual · 6 months
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You get what you pray for, you don't get anything Playing the part when it's insincere So give up the pain, give up the game, go Just give up the holy ghost You won't get what you pray for
THOUGHTS & PRAYERS Motionless in White
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whothefuckiskatlyn · 9 days
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for when you’re making out covered in blood or whatever
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nomattertheoceans · 4 months
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Never mind me, I am once again dealing with my conflicting feelings surrounding Mrs Everdeen.
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makncheeseuwu · 1 year
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was listening to Cyberhex and got a brainblast.
Chris Motionless looks like a Borzoi.
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chris motionless fursona reveal when?!?!? (/j)
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vxnuslogy · 21 days
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— a reason. ft aventurine
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— warnings: slight cursing and violence and spoilers for the new hsr quest
— author's note: this is very long and very much a giant word vomit. first work in hsr is aventurine, i fear favoritism is real.
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‘everything happens for a reason.’
aventurine has never felt so sick and tired of that phrase. something about it makes his fists clench from beneath the table and stomach flip and twist uncomfortably from within.
if everything happens for a reason, then what was the reason behind his clan’s massacre? what was the reason for the stirring in his guts whenever he looked in the mirror? what was the reason behind all of his fortune now turned to misfortune?
aventurine hated not knowing the reason.
“and this pretty thing,” jade motioned towards you by her side. standing motionless, back straight and all. “is [name]. be sure to play nice, aventurine.”
what was the reason behind your new recruitment? better yet, why were you placed as his new assistant? the last time aventurine checked, he was doing perfectly fine. steadily climbing up his rank with his risky gambles and bargaining skills. he couldn't wrap his head around it so he just sighed and accepted it.
“thank you for always looking after me, jade.” his voice carried evident sarcasm but the woman only smiled and pushed you towards his direction. he had to physically stop himself from recoiling from the action and gave you a smile.
“it's a pleasure to meet you, [name].” he held his hand out for you to take. you were hesitating, aventurine noticed. but after a few seconds you slowly slid your hand into his and gave it a firm shake. “the pleasure is all mine, mr. aventurine.”
the blonde man held onto your hand for a moment longer before slipping it away and tucking it behind his back. he surveyed your form making you want to squirm under such a gaze, and he noticed.
“let's be good friends.”
working with aventurine was strange, not that you didn't expect it. you spent the past six months running around the IPC from one office to another carrying mountains of papers and constantly picking up calls from the communication device in your ear. other times, you'll be out and about trailing aventurine like a lost duckling when you need to accompany him to missions that require him to be physically present.
honestly, working for the stoneheart will eventually give you an early death from a heart attack. not only is his risky gambling habits very concerning, his way of speaking wasn't exactly everyone's cup of tea. more often than not you’re needed to play as a peacemaker, the middle ground of negotiations to prevent any physical fights from starting.
but it wasn't as bad as you'd assume. you clock in around 9 in the morning and clock out at 5 in the afternoon. sometimes if certain tasks require you for overtime, you'll clock out at around 8 or 9 at night max. all the work aventurine assigns to you aren't all that difficult to handle as well. just simple reports that need to be proofread so he won't have to read over them multiple times, scheduling interviews, picking up calls and informing him of his new missions, and if the situation calls for it, you play as a spy to gather information.
overall aventurine was a good boss.
today was like any other tuesday morning. you clock in just before 9, get your coffee and another cup for your boss, pick up the last reports from the strategic investment department, and then make your way into aventurine’s office to brief him on his schedule.
his office was on the fancier ends, no surprise there as he was one of the ten stonehearts. your shoes clicking when they met the marbled floors, your eyes skimmed through the reports, trying to guess which proposal will be approved or disapproved. when you reached a familiar door, you fixed your hair and readjusted the insignia pinned to your vest. an aventurine stone, just like your boss.
you knock thrice -short, short and long- before you hear a muffled voice tell you to come in.
“good morning, mr. aventurine.” you greet with a slight bow as normal. “as punctual as ever, [name].” raising your head you nod towards topaz’s direction in acknowledgment before making your way to his desk. “here are all the reports from the last mission. i’ve read through all of them and made sure everything is in order.” placing the papers on the table, he dropped the ones in his current hand before taking the new ones, all the while, you place down his coffee which he gladly took.
“you aren't overworking them, have you, aventurine?” topaz inquired, crossing both her arms over her chest. “what kind of boss do you take me for friend? a bad one? i can assure you my assistant is in good hands.” the blonde man chipped in, his fingers flipping from one page to another as you busied yourself trying to organize the scattered reports on his table. feeling topaz's gaze, you give her a slight smile and nod, confirming that aventurine is in fact, was a good boss.
she just sighed and shook her head. motioning for you to come over, you look to aventurine who gave you a nod in turn. you walked towards topaz -feeling the searing stare of aventurine burn through the back of your head- as she took out a flash drive and handed it to you.
“this is the recording of the last meeting in regards to the mission you're tasked with. since you were still in pier port, we started without you.”
“how cruel of you, to start such an important meeting without even waiting for me.”
ah yes, the pier port incident. you smiled wearily as your shoulder slumped when you remembered what happened. you shake your head in amusement of the memory.
“thank you topaz,” you break the silence, like you always do. “i’ll be sure to look over it today.” she smiled at you in appreciation before turning her back on you and waving goodbye.
“well, that was all i came for. catch you two later.”
once the door clicked shut and the sounds of footsteps getting fainter and fainter, you took it as a sign to turn back to your boss who was already looking at you.
“is something the matter, sir?” you ask. he took off his glasses with a hum and turned his attention back to the papers he was reading. “be sure to give me a summarized report of the meeting before you go home.” you nod and take a seat on the couch in his office and boot up the laptop on the coffee table. you've always wondered when it suddenly appeared in his office, you were 98% sure it wasn't there when you first started working but aventurine always said that's it been there the entire time.
you shake the thought out of your mind and shift into work mode. hours seem to pass by in the blink of an eye before you heard aventurine call out to you. “i’m sorry mr. aventurine, i'm afraid i didn't hear you.” you heard him sigh and repeat his question. “i said, why did you join the IPC? actually, no, that's not what i want to know.”
when you looked up from the laptop in front of you, your boss had taken a seat across from you. you felt your heart thumping in nervousness.
“what exactly did you do to pique jade’s interest?”
frozen. you felt frozen on your spot. fingers stopping midway from pressing onto the keys. those beautiful eyes you've slowly grown accustomed to seeing unfiltered from his glasses, they make your heart and pulse beat in an unfamiliar rhythm.
“i come from a well-off family.” you start, suddenly feeling conscious of your background. “my parents have worked closely with the stonehearts, i suppose miss jade wanted to continue the diplomatic relationship between my family and the IPC.”
“is that the reason why you're here now?”
you simply nod even though you weren't so sure if that really was the reason.
“let me ask you another question.”
letting out a startled noise when the laptop in your lap suddenly close with a gloved hand sitting on top of it, you stare at aventurine's purple eyes that had rings of teal, something so uniquely him that you couldn't help but get lost in them. he took the laptop from your grasp and set it on the coffee table as he leaned both his arms on his legs.
“do you like working under me?”
the question caught you off guard and it showed with how the corner of aventurine’s mouth twitched up into a smirk. hiding behind a closed fist and clearing your throat, you pray that your voice wouldn't waver as you answer.
“i do.” you peaked towards his directions and he didn't seem satisfied with your answer so you list out all the reasons why you like working with him. “despite your… questionable habits, i’ve come to grow used to them as time goes on.” a fond smile made its way to your lips when you dug around your mind trying to find your memories that had aventurine in them, only to realize that he was in all of them.
“i’ve come to enjoy all your little shenanigans in missions.”
“i'll have you know, calling your boss’ plans “shenanigans” could lead to your bonus being cut by a few percent.” he huffed like a child as he decided to just sit back and cross his arms over his chest and raise his chin at you. you chuckle at the action and continue.
“ever since i was a child, i have always wanted to travel the cosmos. but since i’m the only child to my mother and father, my childhood, teenage years, and now adulthood is centered around business and trade. going out on missions with you to different planets, they heal that little part of me that wished to travel.”
“but sometimes, i truly believe that you want me to die from a heart attack.” you hear him snicker from under his breath as he fixes the watch on his wrist. “i know that as a gambler taking risks is just a part of it but aeons, do they scare me to death sometimes.”
“if i knew you cared about me so much, maybe i would tone it down a bit!” there was a playful undertone to his voice as he talked to you. you let out a laugh and shake your head. “no offense sir, but i sincerely doubt that.”
“you wouldn't be the boss i've grown accustomed to if you didn't do your risky gambles.”
something flickered in aventurine's eyes, you were sure of it. but before you could find out what it was he suddenly stood up, putting on his usual glasses and giving you a closed eyed smile.
“well, that was all what i wanted to ask you.” you wanted to ask something in return, but you never had the chance to even get a word out when he was already halfway out the door. “be sure to finish that summary before the day ends. leave it at my desk as usual.”
and just like that, the office door clicked shut.
“if i told you the reason, that'd be the same as revealing a trade secret.”
aventurine remembered jade's word. how could he not when they repeated in his mind like a broken record.
after he left his office, it felt like he suddenly went back in time. it just had been roughly a month after you were given the position as his assistant and aventurine wasted no moment at the end of that friday afternoon to dash in jade's office and ask her the question: why were you his assistant.
aventurine scoffed at jade's response while she only smiled. clicking his tongue in annoyance as the woman led him in circles when he kept asking. what was the reason? was it that hard to answer?
the next few days weren't necessarily the best. he was like a walking ticking time bomb, ready to blow up at any second. everyone in the IPC kept their distance from him -not like they didn't keep their distance to begin with, some started whispering among the hallways about his potential termination after a very big gamble he almost, almost, lost. what ticked him off the most, was you.
he felt so frustrated at you because why were you so damn perceptive. those past few days, the papers that were messily and hastily thrown on the giant table in his office were suddenly organized into neat piles, all held together with different colored paperclips and a sticky note of when each pile was due to be submitted. how every morning you wouldn't fail to knock thrice at his door -short, short and long- at exactly 3 minutes before 9 in the morning with two cups of coffee in your hands. or the times where you would take one good look at him and start lighting up the candles in his office that you started buying for him because you noticed he'd be slightly less stressed when the room didn't smell like fear and insecurity.
what he hated the most was even after his little temper tantrum the past few days began to subdue, you still continued your almost doting actions towards him.
when did he start anticipating your methodical knocks 3 minutes before 9? when did he suddenly grow disappointed whenever someone knocked on his door and it wasn't you? topaz had suddenly grown confused when he suddenly came into the meeting room with a cup of coffee in his hand and when she asked about it he would simply say, “well, my darling assistant bought it for me!”. the multiple scented candles in his office that burned too quickly so at the end of every month he'd have you go out and buy some more.
when did he start using his left hand -the hand he left bare from rings, the same hand that shook in fear of losing- to guide the small of your back away from the crowd whenever you would accompany him to missions?
when did he start taking off the glasses that hid the eyes he wanted to sell to someone else?
it was so confusing yet so simple at the same time. aventurine had grown fond of his little assistant. he has grown fond of you. and that was all there is to it. after all, why would he go out of his way to get that customized brooch that you wear every single day when you come to work if he hadn't. how his chest would swell with pride whenever you spoke with higher positioned officers in the IPC and how they would avert their gaze because of the pin on your vest.
and he knows that you know of his sudden change in demeanor. you just never say a word for his sake. how he went from being a distant and acquainted boss to a friend. an actual friend. and that was supposed to be it. he did say in your first meeting that you should be good friends, but how was he supposed to keep his words after the little stunt you pulled at pier port?
it was a simple mission, negotiate and get the upper hand, nothing more and certainly nothing less. like any other mission, he was accompanied by you and some other people under the IPC. everything was going smoothly until one of them just had to open their mouth and talk shit about his already dreadful past just because he had forgotten to put on his glasses. he truly has grown a bit too comfortable with you around, and he didn't like it.
“what's a sigonian scum like you doing in the IPC? why don't you crawl back into the hole you came from?”
he just sighed. shaking his head, hiding his left hand behind his back, shielding it away from everyone's gaze as it shook with anger, disgust, and the tantalizing question of why.
why did he have to go through this?
and then you did something out of the ordinary.
the sweet assistant of aventurine suddenly pulled out the gun situated on your hip and pointed it directly to the man’s forehead, a deathly glimmer shining in your eyes as your index threateningly ghosted over the trigger.
“if you do not take back what you said just now, i won't hesitate to put a bullet or two in that empty skull of yours.”
then you started walking, and he started backing up. you didn't stop until the man was standing on the edge of the port, one simple push and he'd be drowned in the vast icy oceans. that is, if he wasn't already drowning in the fury of your eyes.
aventurine felt his body move in instinct. his left hand holding your wrist and slowly putting it down at your side. he gave a half assed apology about your behavior and ushered you to your original destination. this time, he kept his hand on your back, specifically near the gun on your hips to make sure you didn't point it at someone else.
“do they always speak to you that way?” you ask barely above whisper. eyes strained one the road you were walking one while his bore into your very being. “i’ve grown used to it. be sure to not point that gun of yours to any potential partners, m’kay?” to prove his point, he tapped the gun on your hips with his finger and you just sighed. a simple yes stumbling past your lips before being enveloped by silence.
aventurine was sure. he was very, very, sure that was the last nail in the coffin, and the answer to the question he's been asking.
the entire day, you stuck by his side. glued to the fucking hip and no one dared to utter a single word about him. the meeting went smoothly and when everyone was preparing to go home, he called you over and said:
“that stunt you pulled earlier, stays between us, alright, friend?”
and you simply nod in understanding.
you carry your bags onto the ship to take you back home only to be taken aback when aventurine comes to steal it away from your hands. “take it as thanks for earlier.” he remembered that look of shock before it turned into something else -what it was he didn't know because you turned away before he could even fathom what of it made his stomach do flips.
even when he came to drop off your things at your personal room, he found himself lingering by the door. watching you unpack your things as he stood idly. you would eventually turn to him and ask if he needed anything more, and out of curiosity he asked: “why did you point your gun at that man?” he will never forget the look of puzzlement on your face when he asked.
“because he said something unpleasant to you. as your assistant, i can't allow others to simply trample on your name.”
he spent the night staring up at the ceiling while laying on his bed. your words mingling in with jade's in his mind, trying to fit the two like puzzle pieces to ease the racing of his heart and uneasiness of his mind. he didn't like assuming things. a conjecture such as this would cost him too much, but tonight he indulged himself in the thought.
picking up his phone and messaging jade, he laid his forearm over his eyes and sighed.
“this room smells horrible…” he muttered. the strong scent of chlorine made his mind spin. making him miss the scented candles you had slowly but surely placed inside his office. he'd grown so fond of them that he'd bought some of his own to place around his home. “ah… i think i'm screwed.”
it has been approximately 3 system hours since you arrived in penacony, and roughly a few system hours before aventurine's eventual demise.
topaz had just finished speaking with the trailblazer and their companions. when they had left you stood next to her and stared at the giant prison turned hotel.
“you… don't seem too worried.” topaz said, you felt her gaze but you didn't turn to look at her, instead you just gazed into nothing. “it would be a lie if i said i wasn't worried.” you were most definitely worried, terrified even. no matter how many times aventurine does his high risk gambles, you will never get used to it, not when it causes ghostly hands to squeeze at your heart at the sheer thought of him losing. the thought of losing him.
“but i trust miss jade's judgment. i trust aventurine.”
roughly a day before his departure to penacony, curiosity got the best of you and you stuck around the meeting room in secret when aventurine stayed behind.
“what can i do for you, aventurine?” jade's voice slightly echoed in the empty room. your hands slightly shook in fear of being caught, but you were just so curious about what has been going on with your boss that you couldn't fight the urge to eavesdrop a bit. “oh nothing much. i take it you received my message?” you assumed the woman nodded because aventurine continued. “i must admit, your little plan worked. but is it really necessary?”
jade stood up from her seat, her heels clicked on the marble floor and aventurine followed her until they were by the door.
“well, it's better to stay safe than sorry. and besides, this doesn't count as a complaint, right?”
you heard him chuckle. somehow, even though you hid behind a pillar you felt his stare bore into your being. you could almost imagine those purple eyes that had rings of teal in them that made you weak in the knees.
“no, not necessarily. i could never consider it as a complaint.” he took a moment before asking another question. “but i want to hear it from you, friend. why did you assign [name] as my assistant?”
“it's rather simple really,” jade replied. “you need a reason to leave penacony alive, no? i simply made it easier for you.”
you? the reason for aventurine's will to live? it seemed rather silly. how you, a simple assistant, be so much of importance to someone like aventurine, but with how topaz came to hold the hand that gripped the brooch he had given you, you thought otherwise.
this half a year you've been working with him, you like to think that you've gotten to know him very well.
how when you stood beside him as he sat himself in another gamble, he would always lay his left hand on his lap, fingers curled into fists so tight you were afraid his palms were bleeding.
how he always hid his “weaker” hand behind his back in dire situations to hide his fear.
or when he would always take off his glasses in his office whenever you were there. and that laptop you were 98% sure wasn't there when you started working? aventurine apparently got it specifically for you so you could work in his office.
but what you were most sure of was:
“aventurine doesn't make deals he knows he won't benefit from. he'll win, he always does. he'll come back, i know it.”
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© vxnuslogy 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works.
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mariasont · 11 days
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Negotiating with Mr. H - pt. 2
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a/n: part two to this
god im such a shluuuut for this man anyhow happy reading
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!nanny!reader
warnings: 18+ mdni, unprotected p in v (DONT DO THAT, boo tomatoes), use of sir and mr. hotchner in bed, dirty talk, pet names (good girl, sweetheart, honey, etc.), idk im terrible at warnings
wc: 2k
The hours had stretched into days since you all but threw yourself at Mr. Hotchner. The morning after unfolded with him dodging your company as if you were a wildfire, claiming a day at the zoo with Jack as a shield, yet you saw it as a deliberate distance he put between you. No sooner had they returned, the call for a case arrived. Typical.
But you found no room for embarrassment within yourself; you had played your hand, and he had been receptive, at least so you thought. If he had changed his mind, that was within his right; still, you wished he'd say something about it.
Your fingers tenderly combed through Jack's hair, the soft strands slipping between them, as you gently closed the book, careful not to wake him. He had a nightmare, but you soothed away the scary bits with 'The Very Hungry Caterpillar', as you coaxed him back to sleep. It was his go-to comfort read--and secretly, yours too. You eased your legs over the edge, each step a muted brush against the carpet. You flicked off the light, the soft thud of the book on the nightstand, and you stepped into the hallway--the door sealing behind you softly.
You moved with soft steps towards your room, hands outstretched as they found the doorknob, pushing it open with the slightest pressure. You froze mid-step, the distinct click of the front door's latch piercing the silence. Subconsciously, a plan formed in your mind, as if waiting for this cue. You made a beeline for the closet, fingers flying as you shimmied into your favorite panties and a cropped white long sleeve that highlighting your stiffening nipples. Listening intently for the sound of his footsteps, you slid under the sheets, the door left invitingly open, your legs peeking out as if by chance.
Was this wrong? Certainly, but the blood rushing to your cunt didn't care. You were acutely aware of each groan from the wooden steps under his weight as he made his way upstairs, and you could almost catch the hush of his breath as he lingered at Jack's room, the door's creak broadcasting his quiet check.
You snapped your eyes shut, the sound of his nearing steps triggering an automatic response. You knew he'd have to pass your room to get to his. Every sense tingled to life as his footsteps hesitated at your door. Even with your back facing him, you felt his eyes roam over you, his breath turning heavy, hanging in the air.
You exhaled a shaky breath, feeling it vibrate through the stillness as he continued on to his room. The urge to swear was heavy on your tongue, the realization dawning that your plan had left no impression on him. You turned restlessly, feeling the bite of your failed efforts. Yet, when you propped yourself up, there he was--Mr. Hotchner, standing motionless in the doorway.
"Oh, Mr. Hotchner! I--I didn't realize you were home. How was the case?" Your question floated on a note higher than usual, yet you made no move to hide your body from him, welcoming the observation.
"Really? You didn't hear me? I could have sworn I heard movement in your room as I came in," he remarked, his piercing gaze locking onto you as he casually propped himself against the frame of the door.
"Movement? Could've been the wind," you suggest, your smile bright and inviting, arms falling away to give him a full display of your hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your shirt.
His response is brief, a deliberate blink, a silent count to ten, before his gaze sharpens, a frown forming as he closes the distance between you, the door shutting behind him. "The wind, huh?" he echoed, "I've been neck-deep in a nightmare of case, and this is what I come home to?"
You maneuver closer, your legs now casually exposed as you perch on the bed's edge. "What's wrong, Mr. Hotchner? Don't appreciate the view?"
His presence fills the space by your bed. "The view," he begins, his eyes taking a leisurely journey from your exposed legs up to meet your gaze, "is more than agreeable."
You hand snakes out, catching the silk of that god damn tie, drawing him closer. "Well. Mr. Hotchner, aren't you going to do something about this agreeable view?" you challenge, eyes wide and expectant.
Assertively, he captures your chin, his thumb brushing your cheek. "You should know by now, I'm very much a man of action."
He leans down, a predator claiming his willing prey, and his mouth captures yours in a kiss that sends a surge of electricity through your veins, your fingers curling into the fabric of his suit as if the meld him into you. The way his lips were attached to yours sent shockwaves straight to your core, hands moving from his lapels to his hair.
"Didn't think you had it in you, Mr. Hotchn--," you mumbled against his mouth, but you were swiftly cut off as his teeth dug into your bottom lip.
"The next time you say my name, it's going to be when my cock is buried so deep inside you that you can't form anything else but that name."
And in that moment, you could've sworn you'd never felt desire until he said those words. He began to trail sloppy kisses up your neck, your head arching back, surrendering to the sweet attention he lavished upon the column of your throat. There was a quiet authority in his actions, as he parted your thighs, his fingers grazing closer to your clothed cunt as his other hand pushed you flat against the bed.
A gasp fluttered from your lips, a delicate sound of shock. You would've never pegged him to be like this in bed. So fucking demanding. Your thighs instinctively sought each other, but his large hand held them apart, keeping you open, vulnerable.
You looked up at him with doe eyes, wide and brimming with lust, and it reflected a beauty so intense he was sure it could halt time. He was sure he must've done something right in this life to be privileged enough to see you like this—so submissive despite your big talk, so eager to please. It sent a rush to every part of his body, specifically his cock which stretched against his dress pants, begging to be released.
He wanted to take his time, to worship your body in the way it deserved, but there was nothing slow or soft about his movements. His hands explored every inch of your body as if he'd been touch starved his whole life.
"Pl-Please, sir, please touch me," you begged, your hips bucking against the graze of his hands.
The word 'sir' triggered a slight twitch in his cock, his voice a throaty rumble. "Feel that? I'm touching you, honey," he teased, his touch a tantalizing drag against your skin, inching your shirt upward, a smug smile etched on his handsome face.
"You know what I mean," you insisted, your hand intertwining with his in a silent plea, guiding them to where you wanted.
"I can't read your mind, sweetheart," he chides softly, his touch retreating teasingly, "be a good girl and tell me where you want me to touch you."
Your mind was going blank, so desperate for him you could almost feel your arousal leaking down your thighs.
"Here?" he questioned, his hands coming to rest on your ankles as he propped them on the edge of the bed, leaving your legs spread wide in front of him. You shook your head in response, a whine leaving your lips, "or here," he said, his hands moving up to your thighs.
You wiggled in his grip. "Mmm, getting closer aren't I?" he taunted, "use your words pretty girl, tell me how to help."
"Mr. Hotchner, please, need you inside me," your words were more slurred than you intended, sitting up to lock your hands behind his neck, your breath fanning his.
"You don't need it, you want it," he corrected, his lips brushing the sensitive skin behind your ear, his arm a steady band across your back, pulling you closer. "However, lucky for you, I'm inclined to be generous."
His hands eased you back towards the bed, your hands fingering through his hair as he made quick work with your underwear before tapping your shirt. "Take this off honey."
Without hesitation, you complied, flinging it carelessly to the bed's opposite edge, shifting to prop yourself up on your elbows. 
 "God, you're so beautiful."
The words seemed to empty your lungs of air, your face turning a delicate shade of pink as you beamed at him, your smile sticky with sweetness. His fingers found your nipples, teasing and tugging as you let out soft little whimpers, arching into his touch.
"Feels so good, sir," you moaned, hands digging into the sheets, leaning towards him to close the distance between you two, your lips seeking his in a tender collision.
You could sense his mouth curve into a silent smirk against yours as his hands moved with unhurried intent to your swollen clit, eliciting an involuntary gasp from you as you writhed on the mattress. You could hear his other hand undoing his belt as his continued his leisurely movements against your cunt. In a smooth, practiced motion, he pulled out his cock from his pants.
Your mouth parted slightly at the length of it, and you had to fight off the urge to drool at the sight. Thankfully he didn't make you beg for it, sliding into you with an ease that made your head fall back against the mattress.
"Shit," he hissed, his hands finding a natural perch upon the gentle swell of your hips. "You're so wet, honey. How long have you wanted this? Hmm?"
"S-So long," you muttered, a moan pausing your sentence, "wanted you for so long."
"I know, pretty girl," he murmured, his words interlaced with the obscene sound of his length pounding in and out of your drenched pussy. 
"Feels so good, Mr. Hotchner."
He let out a soft groan in response, his hands tangling through your hair. Your name rolled off his tongue as you clenched around him. He had to move his hands to the bed beside your head, trying to resist the urge to absolutely destroy you.
Your moans heightened with each thrust causing his hand to fly over your mouth, eyes rolling back to your head. "Need you to be quiet, honey. You can do that for me can't you?"
You nodded desperately against his palm, hands reaching out to close around his shoulders as you moved to meet his thrusts, the familiar coil beginning to wind in your core.
"I know you're close, sweetheart. Need you to hold on just a little longer."
He let out a breathy chuckle at your body's reaction, desperately bucking against him. Hotch revealed in the sound of your pussy squishing around him, so wet you're practically soaking his dress pants.
Your slur his name as he reaches between you, his thumb rubbing feverishly at your clit. "Go ahead, honey, cum for me."
His words were all you needed, gushing around his cock as he continued to fuck you through your high. He let out a strangled groan of his own, pumping you full of his cum. His large body slumped against yours, his head ducking into the crook of your neck as you both attempted to catch your breath.
He slowly lifted off of you, tucking his cock back into his pants as moved to grasp your ankle, rubbing comforting circles over the skin.
"Tell me, was that personal bonus sufficient for you?"
Your giggle, light and airy, filled the space as you gingerly lifted yourself, hands laying a gentle claim on his chest, your smile blooming across your lips. It was in this moment he knew he would do anything to keep you like this--content, utterly fucked and next time in his bed.
"Well, I can't say for sure, Mr. Hotchner," you admit, your kiss on his cheek lingering a moment longer. "I work really hard around here, maybe another round would satiate me."
"I don't know think anything would satiate you, honey."
"Maybe so, but isn't it tempting to see if something can?"
"Undoubtedly."
taglist: @mrs-ssa-hotch
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guraveetee · 10 months
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guys, I always see and read bruised and beaten up chuuya with a worried dazai going all demon prodigy.
you think mr. nakahara "never lost a fight" chuuya will let some wound stop him from fighting on?
where's the unhinged, feral, protective and fucking furious chuuya because how fucking dare you hurt his partner?
he was the King of Sheep. a teenager that had small gangs to big organizations hesitate on going against him.
when dazai say it's all part of the plan, but he's now motionless in his arms and chuuya is pissed.
there's no corruption. just brute strength and the deadly ways of gravity manipulation, and chuuya ends them all.
reports will show that there were no remains of the enemy. the battlefield was empty. destroyed, crushed and eerily empty.
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some of my favorite chaotic MIW pictures
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forcefedthelies · 2 years
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has anyone posted the ponytail boy yet
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explosionkatsu · 7 months
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Just some random drabbles. Hahahahaha!
Bakugo x Singlemom Y/n
"I can't do this."
The love of your life said after you gave birth to your baby.
"W-what?" You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Why now? Why is he backing up now?
"I can't be a father. I don't know how to be a father. Fuck, we shouldn't have done this." He spouted. "I can't take care of that thing."
"This thing you're talking about is our child." You were now enraged. Angry tears streaming down your face as you stare in the man in front of you.
This was supposed to be a great moment. He, carrying your child in his arms while you gaze at them lovingly. But no. He was backing out.
The dream of having your own family was immediately shattered.
"W-why?" You asked. "Why now?"
He looked at you with frantic eyes as if he suddenly realized all his responsibilities. "I'm sorry."
The last word you heard from him before he finally left.
---
Several nurses came to your room when they suddenly heard you crying. Some pity you and some comfort you.
You don't know what to do, what to think.
Your tears continuously stream down your cheeks as you stare at what is supposed to be your little bundle of joy. But right now, as you gaze at your son's peaceful complexion, you are hurting. Everything reminded you of that asshole.
You remembered giving up as a hero when you met him. You remember him telling you how much he wanted a family with you.
All of it was a lie.
"Why.." You whispered. "Why does it have to be me.." You sobbed.
Some days passed like a blur. You were exhausted, depressed, and motionless. Whenever your child starts crying, you can't take him in your arms to rock him to sleep or feed him. You had to ring a nurse to assist you.
They were very understanding of your situation, though. They never complain or even ignore you. Some are comforting you, giving you your meal even though you never touched it. They were worrying about you.
Until you decided to tell him.
He's been there with you ever since high school. Sure, everyone didn't expect you two to be companions, but as of the moment, he's the only someone you have.
Gradually, you picked up your phone from the table beside you. Seeing how many missed calls and messages he left made you at least smile. You read a few of his messages before you click the call button and put it on speaker waiting for him to pick up.
---
An uneventful patrol is what is in his head as he walks around where he's positioned. People are greeting him which he nods in response. Some tried taking a picture with him but he refused to entertain them since he was on duty. He can't lose his concentration.
That was when his phone suddenly rang. If it's Eijiro, he'll sure hang up. But when he checked the caller ID, it was you. Instantly, he pressed the answer button and placed his phone next to his ear.
"The hell happened to you? Why haven't you answered my calls?" Katsuki spoke out while still keeping an eye around him.
Katsuki heard you chuckle on the other line.
"Hello to you too, Katsuki." You giggled.
"You didn't answer my question, dumbass." He tsked.
"I-i.."
Something's off and he knows it.
"What's wrong?" Almost instantly, Katsuki's voice went soft.
You didn't know how to tell him. Katsuki has always hated your ex ever since you guys started dating. He was even pointing out the red flags and yet you chose to ignore his advice.
"I- Katsuki.." You muttered, trying not to cry.
Katsuki was patient though.
"He left.."
After those words came out of your lips, Katsuki immediately asked for her location and ended the call.
There are other heroes around him. They can protect them. Right now, his top priority is you.
---
Once Katsuki reached the hospital, the receptionist was surprised by his sudden appearance. Part of them wanted to be a fan girl but right now, he looks like he's on a rush.
"Tell me Y/N L/N's room, now."
"Y-yes Mr. Dynamight."
---
When Katsuki swung the door, it opened too quickly causing it to hit the wall loudly.
"Y/n!?" He yelled.
But the view in front of him shut him up.
There you are, sitting on the hospital bed as you gaze outside the window, carrying a sleeping baby.
"You'll wake him up, you know." You giggled and turned your gaze to him.
"Where is he?" He growled and made his way towards you closing the poor door behind him.
Mentioning him suddenly made your smile drop and stare at your child.
"H-he.. Backed out.." You said as you gazed upon the peaceful sleeping child in your arms. "He left us."
"That motherfucker." Katsuki cussed. "I know he's a coward."
You chuckled sadly. "You've always warned me about him." You said. "I should've listened."
Katsuki didn't say anything. He dragged a chair and sat beside the hospital bed close to you.
"I should've believed in every word you said." You were now tearing up. "I should've-" You couldn't hold it back any longer and sob quietly. "I-i'm sorry, Katsuki.."
"Tsk." you heard him.
Standing up once again, Katsuki sat on your hospital bed this time and placed a palm on your cheek, wiping a tear with his thumb. "Dumbass." He said, staring at you. "Why are you apologizing? Didn't I tell you I will support you in all your decisions? Everything." He added.
You looked at him, still tearing up. You were so lucky you had someone like him.
Several minutes have passed until you finally calm down. Your head resting against his shoulder while he plays with your hair.
"I can be his father." he blurts out of nowhere which makes you pull back and stare at him in disbelief.
"What?" You were confused, okay?
"I want to be his father." Katsuki repeated with a blank face.
"K-katsuki. I-
"Look." Katsuki sighed. "I liked you for what? How many fucking years. Fuck, this isn't the right time for a confession, but hell. I- shit. I don't like you, I fucking love you, you idiot."
He was ranting while you were still processing what he said.
He loves you?
"Y-you love me?" You blinked.
"I said a lot of words and that's the only one you heard?"
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yanxidarlings · 3 months
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what's this? for once i am listening to a poll and not getting distracted by something entirely different?
fair warning this is probably my darkest yandere hp writing, reader goes through some shit (said shit being the slytherins shit) it's mostly just angst and misery with a hint of fluff (if you squint) honestly not that crazy about this, but i hereby present
YANDERE SLYTHERIN BOYS: NOT SLYTHERIN, AYE?
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"remember, m/n, you have to do everything to be put into slytherin, no matter how it is the sorting works" draco levelled with m/n l/n, holding an uncomfortable amount of eye contact.
breaking away from the blond's gaze, m/n let out a snicker "i don't know what you're so worried about, draco, i'm the most slytherin person i know!" internally, everyone who wasn't m/n sighed. it was no secret m/n wasn't exactly.. slytherin material. but neither was enzo, or goyle and crabbe for that matter. but they'd all end up in slytherin together anyway, right?.
swinging an arm over the other male's shoulder, enzo pulled m/n in close "we just have to act as slytherin as possible, it'll be a lap around the quidditch pitch getting sorted if we just think things like.. how wicked snakes are- especially green ones! and.." the brunet furrowed his brows as he paused to think. "and just say mudblood over and over again as well! that'll convince them for sure"
m/n laughed, wiggling out of enzo's grip. if only he had actually taken the advice, maybe he wouldn't be where he was now.
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"ravenclaw" "hufflepuff" "gryffindor"
what did the hat even yell out? all m/n knows is that it wasn't slytherin. he sat motionless on the stool, gripping the edges, waiting to hear 'slytherin' yelled out.
"mr l/n, please make your way to the ravenclaw table" a stern voice spoke.
he looked up to see professor mcgonagall staring at him, indicating towards the ravenclaw table. "what, why?" he gave the old woman a confuddled look "that's you're house, mr l/n" the look of confuddlement had turned into pure shock "the.. over there?" when mcgonagall quickly confirmed yes his mouth went agape "are you sure? i.." he pointed towards the slytherin table, where the rest of his childhood friends had been sorted "whilst i'm not entirely convinced, the sorting hat is, move along child" ushering him off the stool and towards the ravenclaw table, mcgonagall quickly went to call out the next name as soon as he was down the steps.
taking a seat at the very edge of the table, m/n ignored the greeting from the boy sat next to him to stare over at the slytherin table. only lorenzo was looking over at him, the rest avoided his gaze.
the boy pinched his forearm, leaving a red mark. but he didn't wake up in his bed nor the slytherin dormitory.
looking down, he saw his robes had taken on the blue and bronze colours associated with the eagle house. his stomach dropped, the reality of the situation coming crashing down. m/n l/n's life was effectively over
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• the next day at herbology, the ravenclaw first class that day with the slytherins, none of them acknowledged him. it stung. sure, the reader had heard of purebloods not getting sorted into slytherin and being alienated from their family and circle, but it was never supposed to happen to him!
• the invisible treatment, alongside the howler he received from his guardian was enough to make him cry in the owlery after curfew. where else was there to cry? his new dormmates were mudbloods out for his magic! and the prefects patrolled the halls at night. imagine the humiliation if weaslebee or whatever the ravenclaw prefect's name was saw him balling his eyes out?
• lorenzo spoke to him, for a little while. but he knew the boy's parents would nip that behaviour in the bud eventually. the prestigious heir of the berkshire family? associating with a blood traitor? m/n knew none of them wanted to be dragged down with him.
• for a little while, he thought they just needed time to adjust to him being in a different house. it was just a house? the day after ravenclaw beat the slytherin team in first year, all hopes of that came crashing down.
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"draco!" m/n smiled as he came past malfoy in the halls, "can you believe wattle stole the snitch? she must have knocked it out of higgs hands, i swear he had it" quidditch was safe, right? m/n had never given a hoot about quidditch in the past, but if it meant getting back in draco and his gang's good books, call him a connoiseur.
malfoy shot m/n a glare "let's see you do any better then" he spat. crabbe and goyle had their arms folded, as if they were the blond's bodyguards.
the ravenclaw went agape before puffing his cheeks out, trying to think of something to say "i- i was just chatting" he folded his arms, not in the intimidating way crabbe and goyle were, as if to make himself smaller.
"you're pathetic, l/n, you think i'd want to be friends with a disgusting blood traitor. know what? i'm glad you got sorted into ravenclaw so i didn't have to find out the hard way, you would have taken us all down with you, wouldn't you?" draco sneered out, eyes narrowing.
m/n looked down, his face painted with shock "draco.. i swear i'm not a blood traitor, the hat got it all wrong!" there was no reasoning with someone like draco, who had been raised with the strict pureblood beliefs shoved down his throat.
oi!, a voice rang out from behind him, turning halfway, m/n saw a boy in slytherin robes that he had never met before "who's this" "who are you" m/n said in near unison with the stranger "he's no one, riddle, nothing but a worthless blood traitor"
with that, malfoy, crabbe and goyle pushed past m/n, and began chatting with the other boy- riddle.
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• to say the first few years at hogwarts are hell for m/n is an understatement. it wouldn't be a surprise if he developed anxiety, depression and paranoia from the constant ridicule and bullying. every corner he turned, one of them was there, calling him foul names, telling him he's a disgrace to his family name.
• who would want to stick around and become a victim as well? no one. that's who m/n had, no one. they brought anyone who he spent time with the same hell. it wasn't even just insults, it was physical, from getting into petty fights with mattheo, to theodore using the levicorpus charm to give him a concussion.
• if he so much as looks one of the greengrass girls way, elio would pour one of snape's potions over m/n's head and then tell the professor that m/n had stolen the potion. if he got the best grade in any class, enzo would accuse the reader of stealing his work, although tom always seemed to be the mastermind behind it.
• there was this one time when a girl a year below him, luna lovegood, began hanging around him, declaring that they were now friends. but m/n knew better than to get used to it, and he was right. within a few weeks of the friendship, a rumour started spreading that m/n was sleeping with rita skeeter and shit talking the quibbler. lovegood never looked at him the same.
• not to mention, the situation at home only got worse. the house was no longer a home, if it ever was. everything he apparently 'did' at hogwarts got reported back to his parents, who disowned him in fifth year.
• m/n didn't return to hogwarts after the winter break when his name was burnt off the family tree.
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the great hall was bustling with students, catching up with friends after the yuletide season. the 'best spot' on the slytherin table (where the roasted turkeys were) was dominated by what was best known as the 'slytherin gang'.
blaise was quiet, but when wasn't he? he only spoke when something needed to be said. eyeing the ravenclaw table for his favourite person to lovingly stare (glare) at, he saw no familiar face.
darting his eyes back and forth between the entry and the table, a solemn look crossed his dark features. "what's got you so pissed, mate?" theo leaned over, following zabini's gaze. blaise briefly made eye contact with theo before taking a bite of roasted potato
"i don't see him either" riddle, tom, to be exact, remarked. theo made an 'o' face, the name didn't have to be said for everyone to know who they were talking about. they spent their days thinking of ways to torment him, who else would they notice the absence of?
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• nobody explicitly said they missed the reader, but actions speak louder than words.
• tom was the first to notice something was amiss. you couldn't waterboard the information out of him, but he couldn't stand not to know where l/n was. he honestly thought the bullying was a bit ridiculous, but as long as he was isolating the reader, he didn't care how it was done.
• he takes action the quickest, stalking the long halls, trying to determine whether or not m/n was just avoiding them.
• it became something of a group mission find out where m/n is. before, they were just possessive, but now, now they were becoming obsessed.
• when the darling finally returned to hogwarts after weeks of being MIA, all the torment, all the bullying, it just stopped. they were being nice which only scared m/n even more. five, even four years ago he would have eaten this up. but he knew better than to trust people now- no, he was straight up paranoid.
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BLAISE ZABINI
• blaise was one of the only ones who truly believed m/n was a blood traitor. but he never gave up on him. in blaise's mind, the years of 'torment' was him helping show the reader the importance of blood purity and status.
• blaise won't apologise for what he did, not sincerely. it'll be more of a 'i'm sorry it took you this long to understand the point'. he truly thinks he was just molding the reader into the perfect future spouse for him.
• the reader has simply traded one hell for another with blaise. refuse to agree to the arranged marriage? won't spend time with him? then the reader truly must be a blood traitor.
• blaise has his softer moments with the reader, where he'll reassure them that he never actually hated them, that he didn't mean any of what he would say to them. but the damage is done.
• when it's his night with m/n, sometimes he'll be awoken at 2am to the sound of m/n getting ready for the next day. when he tried to open the door to the bathroom, he had never heard such a panicked "don't!" when he asked m/n why, "i'm not presentable yet" it broke his heart.
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DRACO MALFOY
• draco had been encouraged by his parents- no, by his father, to put m/n in his place. now that he looks back at it, it had nothing to do with m/n, it was about making sure draco never even considered betraying his blood status.
• he engulfed the reader in a hug when he finally saw him on the way to class. whispering apologies, holding back tears. "i thought- i thought you had done something stup-" but he was quickly shoved off, m/n even mocked him for the tears.
• for the first time in his life, he understood what it felt like to be in the readers position. merlin, he was a git, wasn't he? he'll spend his entire life trying to make up for it if he has to.
• what he couldn't handle was m/n rejecting his attempts at friendship. gosh fucking damn it just love him already, draco makes it clear that the bullying might be over, and he's really sorry it ever happened, but the reader is never allowed a life outside of the slytherins.
• people who interact with the reader are still targeted, leaving him as isolated as ever. at some point he might accept draco's offer of friendship, but he'd never be stupid enough to actually buy into that bollocks.
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LORENZO BERKSHIRE
• lorenzo was kind of like the readers guardian angel throughout his years of torment. he might have been a bystander, but he never directly took part in foul 'pranks' they'd pull on him. it hurt his heart to see m/n so misrable, but he had a reputation to uphold and parents to keep happy.
• whenever the chance would present itself, enzo would try and make m/n's day a bit better. he sent anonymous chocolates from hogsmede for a good while, until pollux and draco started calling m/n a pig when he'd eat them at dinner.
• but it was the thought that counts! and that's what enzo tries to tell m/n in fifth year. he got punched. m/n told him to get lost in the forbidden forest and to take the rest of them with him.
• time heals all wounds, enzo probably has one of the best chances of developing an actual friendship with the reader. but they all want more, especially enzo. who believes he has some sort of precedence over the others for being 'so good' to the reader when everyone else wasn't.
• he thought he was being slick, discussing the possibility of an arranged marriage with his parents. but blaise has made plans a while back, and tom had taken the dark mark with the promise that his father would oneday have m/n marry him.
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MATTHEO RIDDLE
• mattheo is by far, by a long mile, the worst of them all. he used to cruciatus curse on more than once on m/n whenever he was in a particularly jealous or bad mood. objectified him based on his looks "i'd bash your face in but then i'd ruin the only thing you have going for you."
• he didn't even know the reader before hogwarts, he just saw the way draco treated m/n, felt a funny warm feeling, and decided that meant he hated the reader.
• but god forbid anybody else does what he does, mattheo sometimes even tells off the other slytherins, the ones he doesn't like (draco lmao) to back off. maybe if he took his own advice m/n wouldn't be as traumatised as he is.
• lost his shit when m/n didn't return in fifth year. felt like he was dying, it was then he realised that maybe m/n is more important to him than he thought.
• babies the shit out of m/n when he comes back- he tries to at least. offers to carry his bags, trys to sleep in his bed with him, patches up even a small paper cut. it's a startling contrast, m/n probably feels like he has to go along with it, or risk becoming mattheo's target again.
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THEODORE NOTT
• theo wouldn't have gotten in on the bullying if it weren't for his father and the others encouraging him. he didn't do nearly as much as draco or mattheo, but was still considerably worse than blaise or enzo.
• he would always hover around m/n, using his robes, sometimes skin as an ashtray. always making some sort of sarcastic or witty remark. and he always had a glare that would sink though m/n's skull, leaving him constantly on the edge.
• even during the earlier years of hogwarts, theo would have moments of softness, where he dropped the hateful act. which is why he was the one m/n trusted the least when the torment finally stopped.
• m/n keeping his distance, emotionally at least, is what drives theo over the edge. instead of saying something demeaning when he gets like that, theo now has outbursts where he demands closeness: mattheo will often have to drag him out of the room.
• there's always an over the top apology, only for it to go horribly wrong when the reader doesn't eat it up. he drowns in self hatred and anger, wouldn't it be great it time turners could go back years and none of this happened?
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TOM RIDDLE
• tom honestly thought the reader deserved the treatment they got at first. to be born with pure blood and to throw away the privileges that came with it so easily? absolutely disgusting.
• he used to mastermind the bigger plans, until he came to respect m/n's intelligence and strength. anybody else would have ended themselves by now, and he had never met anyone as intelligent as himself. of course at first he developed his own hatred towards the ravenclaw whenever he'd get the same or a higher score on a test than him.
• his attraction to m/n causes him to pull out of partaking in the bullying by around third year. he's got better things to do, like being the top of the class over the likes of an ungrateful blood traitor.
• his main motivation in helping his father resurrect was the power it would give him over m/n. once he became a loyal death eater, he would be rewarded with m/n. the readers feelings be damned, tom wasn't above the imperius curse, amortentia or the cruciatus curse.
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Text
“(Don’t) Hurry Down The Chimney Tonight” - Dean x Reader
Rating Explicit
Dean x Reader
Tags: Christmas (Holiday) Smut, Red Ribbons, Candy Canes, Peppermint Sensations, Sleigh Bells, Sexy Santa References, Dean is Tied Up, Edging, Oral Sex, 69, Vaginal Sex, Reader is a Naughty Little Vixen, Dean deserves a proper (sexy) Christmas.
Word Count: 2700
Summary: Dean saved Reader from the supernatural on Christmas Eve years ago. Every Christmas since, she has always found a way to show her unending appreciation.
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Notes: This smutty little fic is a holiday gift for @jessjad for the 2023 SPNFanFicPond Secret Santa Fic Exchange. I hope you enjoy the reader’s sexy times with Dean.
Big thanks to @sam-is-my-safeword and runawaydr3amer (AO3) for reading the first draft and helping with a great many awesome smut ideas. Additional thanks to runawaydr3amer, who also beta’d this fic and packaged it up nice and shiny. 
Merry holidays!
I'm participating in @jacklesversebingo, and this part will fill my "Edging" square.
Resources:
Collage created in Canva
Pic found on Google (Fanpop)
Song Reference: Santa Baby by Joan Javits and Philip Springer (listen/watch this version sung by Eartha Kitt)
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Dean sinks those pearly whites into the flesh of his bottom lip. His top lip pulls up and back into a painful sneer. The usual rosy, pillowy fullness of that mouth is instead taut, whitening under the capture. You laser focus onto the pointy canine denting into the mouth you have debated sitting on since you began this teasing challenge.
jingle
You finish fashioning a sweet little bow with the ribbon. It’s ruby red and velvety soft.
“Well, I think that’s about the prettiest package I ever did wrap.”
jingle
“What do you think, Mr. Claus?” you ask, your voice as innocent and demure as you can manage.
Dean opens his mouth and expels a slow gasp. jingle “Fuck, sweetheart. You aren’t playin’ fair.”
“That’s the whole point.”
You rise from the edge of the bed and take in the entire scene. It’s magnificent. 
He’s magnificent.
Dean is lying atop the forest green comforter of your bed. Naked. Well, not totally naked. A red ribbon - adorned with one single sleigh bell - binds his wrists together and anchors him to the headboard. His arms, jutting out and bent to create a diamond-shaped frame around his face, give you a prime ticket to the gun show. Biceps flex and tendons raise under the skin as he tries to remain as motionless as possible.
jingle
You aren’t a complete heathen. He’s got a fluffy pillow, the same deep green color as the comforter, to rest his head atop. Dean is anything but sleepy. He’s wound up. He stares back at you, the green of his irises electric and flaming with intensity.
You anticipate how sublime it will feel to strum the cords of his neck. Tickle your fingertips down that chest. You imagine Dean ring-a-ding-dinging and cursing himself if you take the time to trace the outline of his tattoo. Circle those perky nipples. Dip into his belly button and follow his treasure trail of baby-fine hair.
You marvel again at the other ribbon that you tied. You’d purchased a couple yards of red velvet at the craft store weeks ago with this in mind. With him in mind. You were ecstatic it had been enough to criss-cross around the crease below that fine ass. It wraps over a slight vee along his waist. The makeshift holiday jockstrap has Dean’s beautiful, now fully erect, cock sporting a bow.
Dean sighs. “Are you done decking my balls?” jingle
You giggle and fiddle with the belt of your robe. It’s red as well, but made of silk. “As we discussed, the end result of all of this is all up to you. Santa.” You flip a switch to turn off the ceiling light. The sconces stay on above the headboard. Two halos figure eight over Dean’s beautiful body, awash in a warm amber glow.
He’s a full print ad of holiday cheer and sinful debauchery.
“You’re being very naughty, (jingle) Mrs. Claus.” Dean licks his top lip—your core clenches at the deep timbre of his scolding. 
You’ve been wet since you both finished Christmas dinner. Since you told him you had one more gift for him waiting upstairs. Since you left him in the bedroom with orders to strip while you changed in the bathroom. Since you pulled out the ribbons. Since you explained that if he was good and could keep his jingling down to a minimum through what you had planned, you’d fuck him into the New Year.
You inhale and shrug, then begrudgingly turn your back to the sight. It takes a few taps on your phone for you to get to the song. You stifle another giggle at the little jingles Dean can’t help as he waits. 
Once you tap the play button, the festive and recognizable melody begins. A barbershop quartet bah-bums a bit before the sultry and smooth vocals of Eartha Kitt take the lead.
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You look back over your shoulder at Dean and whisper along with Eartha.
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You peel the silky robe off one shoulder then the other. Dean groans when the layer slips down to the floor. jingle
“Shit.” He moans and you grin in satisfaction at the hoped for reaction.
You turn back to face him, adding a dramatic hair flip. You're wearing a sexy little Mrs. Claus outfit. It’s a red velvet dress with a scandalously high skirt and a low-cut halter. White fur lines both the top and bottom. It’s all cinched nice and tight around your waist with a black belt and a gold buckle.
You bend at the knees and lean forward, shoulders folding in and hands resting on your thighs. It gives Dean the perfect vantage to ogle your cleavage. You purr along with the next line and modify the lyrics a smidge.
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“Man, I must have been a really good boy this year.” Dean stares in awe, not even caring how much he’s jingling with his squirms atop the bed.
You let it slide for the time being, thrilled at the kid in a candy store grin plastered on his face and the way the bow sways with every twitch of his cock.  
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Dean tilts his head to the side. His gaze begins at your red-glitter heels and canvases every inch of skin from ankles to thighs. He pauses, stopping to stare at the hint of flesh under the skirt hem. jin-jingle jingle jin-jingle He pants out, “Mrs. Claus forgot her panties, huh?”
You lift a finger and wiggle it back and forth in the air. “Uh-uh-uh. Remember, really good boys stay still if they want their present.”
The bell jangles no matter how carefully he attempts to reposition himself. “Son of a bitch,” he mumbles and you laugh. “Sorry, sweetheart. I’ll be good,” he whispers soft and sweet.
The heels tap across the hardwood as you walk over to settle beside Dean. You adjust your skirt to let the scant amount of fabric fan over your naughty bits. Being so close to him makes you forget the lyrics to sing along with Eartha.
You rest a hand on his chest. Through clenched teeth, Dean inhales at the touch, the rest of him frozen in place. The bell is silent. Your other hand grabs one of the candy canes you had left on the bedside table. For reasons.
Watching him fight every urge he has to reach out and touch you is fascinating. And the power you have over him gives you a head rush. You continue the tease, twirling the candy between your fingers, then laving the cane’s hook with your mouth and tongue. Dean garners some pity from you as he whines, brows downturned, eyes attentive to your every swirl and suck. You swing the cane close to his mouth. “Wanna taste?”
He swallows. “Wanna taste you,” he states, the hint of hope escaping around the edges of a soft moan.
The thrill of his need quickens your pulse. No other man has loved and adored you as thoroughly and exuberantly as Dean Winchester. You nod. “You will. But, first,” you rub the wet-slick candy cane over his bottom lip, “show me what that mouth wants to do.”
“You know what this mouth can do,” he reminds with a little sass, letting the candy cane tap against his bottom teeth. 
But soon enough, he indulges you. He slips the hook between his lips. His tongue slides out under the curve of peppermint, lapping at the sticky sweet. Again and again. Your breath hitches into your open mouth as you watch, enthralled at the ministrations of that thick and powerful muscle. He sucks the confection in a little farther, pursing his lips. The sounds he’s making, enjoying the treat, are downright pornographic and send any extraneous bell ringing to the back of your hearing queue. The red food coloring coats them like lip gloss by the time you break from the spell of his show. You guess it’s been minutes since Eartha finished her rendition of ‘Santa, Baby.’ The rest of the playlist you created has soft and dreamy instrumentals.
“My turn,” you cajole. You tug on the cane. He relinquishes, but not without some resistance. A little pop escapes his mouth once the hook is freed. You marvel at the progress he made. The hook end is substantially shorter and thinner than when he began.
He sniffs and tilts his chin up in pride. jingle “Your turn with that, or my turn with you?”
The cane slips back into your mouth, your fingers sticky from all the handling. You stand, kick off your heels, and climb back onto the bed on your knees. You grin as you suck on the candy.
His eyes soften. “Be careful, baby. Don’t want you to choke. Well, at least not on that.” He smirks.
He’s right. Safety first. You toss the candy onto the bedside table.
“You are so (jingle) fucking hot in that (jingle) outfit.” He grins and waggles eyebrows in anticipation. “Gonna let me down your chimney, Mrs. Claus?” jingle jingle jingle
The actions in the next few seconds are a blur. You wonder if Dean has some sort of Jedi mind control ability. Because even though you are supposed to be the one making decisions this evening, his seductively god-awful puns find you sitting on his face, reverse cowgirl. 
“You might get the golden ticket to all my secret places if you’re lucky.” Your fingers tip-toe down his chest like a grinch about to steal someone else’s presents. 
jingle jingle jingle
“Fuckin’ hell,” Dean murmurs under your skirt. Hot breath bathes your inner thighs and other areas you hope will soon be explored.
Your hands rest in the little divots created by his pelvic bones while you take his body in and plan your method of attack. You pull on the ribbon and release his cock of the bow. Then, you’re deep throating him like he’s your last meal.
Not one to be outdone at an all-you-can-eat buffet, Dean’s entire face gets in on the feast as well. Nerves respond to the tingling sensation of the residual peppermint on Dean’s lips and tongue. You shiver at the gloriously heightened sensitivity when he pulls back to blow on your pussy. “This is so much better than milk and cookies.” He moans and groans and jingles all the way. 
As much as you’re loving the taste of his precome, the velvet texture against your tongue, and the way the tip triggers a tiny gag reflex at the base of your throat, it’s time to remind him of the consequences of all that noise he’s making. You release the hard length from your mouth and try to concentrate on your own breathing during the absolute virtuoso way he’s eating you out. As much as you’d love his fingers to get in on the action, you know you’d have no control over the situation. You sigh in relief that he’s trying to adhere to some parts of the game. The pitiful, half-hearted ribbon shackling of his hands to the headboard is no match for Dean Winchester.
You steady yourself on wobbly knees and one shaky elbow. A firm grip around the base of his cock makes Dean gasp. He stills after that. In your mind’s eye, you picture the beauty of that mouth and how his luscious pink lips were slick with peppermint. You imagine how slick they are with you now. “Sorry, baby,” he murmurs and you feel him settle back onto the pillow. “I’ll be as quiet as I can. Can you blame me, though? Here I am, under your sweet little skirt, in the dark (jingle)... shit, sorry. But, you can’t drop a five-course meal in front of a starving (jingle) man and not expect him to wanna little taste.”
You squeeze his cock. “That’s part of the challenge.”
“I’m always up for a challenge. You always make me feel so good.”
You groan at the praise he bestows. Without releasing your hold, you shimmy off his chest. Channeling the prim and delicate sensibilities of Mrs. Claus, you crawl along the comforter and settle between nutcracker bow legs. With knees tucked under you and sat atop bare feet you accept him in your mouth again and get to work. 
You take in the sight of Dean inventorying your every action. He’s gripping the top of the headboard with both hands to steady his upper body. You clock that the little stinker has also managed to palm the sleigh ball in an effort to silence or, at the very least, muffle it. You consider that move cheating. But he feels so sublime that you can’t bear to part with him to voice your irritation. He’s also whispering the sweetest filth to you while he watches.
“Damn. Yeah. Those lips of yours feel so good around my cock. You take it so good, baby. Wish I could fuck that pretty little mouth of yours, but I’d definitely jingle-jangle way too much.” A tongue swipe over his top lip accentuates the glossy look of his ruby-tinted mouth in the warm light. “You really are too good to me. You give the best Christmas presents.” He stiffens further with each downstroke. “Aw, yeah. Suck it.” Your rhythm increases. “So pretty. Wanna touch you so bad.” He gasps. “Fuck, I’m gettin’ close.” jingle jingle   
You clamp around the base again and squeeze, freeze mid-swallow - your lips around the tip - as soon as he rings.
Dean squirms and grumbles.
You continue to bring him to the edge of orgasm, then halt. Your jaw is aching along with the rest of your body as time passes.
You’ve fucked Dean up in the best way possible. He’s blissed out, wound up tighter than a spring. You’ve got him begging. But his words grow into admonishments with each successive denial. “You can’t keep doing this, baby. There’s gonna be consequences. Santa’s gonna for real put you on his naughty list. Nothing but coal in your stocking,” he huffs.
You give your mouth a reprieve and stroke him. “Is that all that happens to naughty girls?”
He gnaws at his bottom lip before offering, “You really wanna find out?”
You nod.
The ribbon binding Dean to the headboard shreds with one mighty tug. He pitches the sleigh bell in the air. It jingles as it pinballs around the room. 
You gasp as he cinches those hands under your armpits and drags you up his body. He crushes his lips into yours, tastes you with his tongue. The mixture of your arousal and a hint of peppermint melts you in his arms. Then, a sudden and swift rollover pins you beneath him.
He hovers, tosses your skirt up to your chest, and wedges between your legs. His hard, heavy cock slips into your folds and glides through your wetness. “I could drag this out. Or.” It’s his turn to tease. He notches snug against your entrance. You’re surprised your muscles haven’t pulled him into you of their own accord the way your entire body spasms with need. He whispers in your ear, “Let me be your Santa, baby.”
You gasp, “And hurry down the chimney tonight.”
He groans in victory and slides in, balls deep. He thrusts. One massive hand gathers your wrists together on the pillow above your head to anchor you in place. Fingers of his other hand grip the top of the headboard. Every sway in and out of you gets more frenetic. You’re screaming his name and he’s cursing yours. 
“Good girls do what they’re told,” he states, out of breath, face reddening. His gaze locks with yours. He slows down. Releases your hands. Finds your clit amid the white fur and red velvet. Strums. Angles and hits your sweet spot deep within you with a harsh abandon. “Come.”
Minutes later, after you’ve both orgasmed, you’re curled into his chest. “That was…” you manage between heavy exhales.
“Yeah, that was awesome.” He kisses your forehead. “Every year, since I saved you from that ghost on Christmas Eve, you find a way to outdo yourself with the holiday cheer.”
“Well, you deserve it. I’m glad you can get away for a little while and get a special treat.”
He sighs. “You know, you don’t have to feel obligated to…”
You rest a finger atop his lips. “How I see it. Guy saves your life one time, you owe him the rest of yours.”
He smiles and pulls you in. “How about we just focus on tonight, yeah?”
You nod. “Merry Christmas, Dean.”
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”
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