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#or anyone being confident with what they wear
grimm-writings · 1 day
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on my hands and knees begging you to write that legally blonde idea… obsessed with the idea of reader thinking chil wants to get back w his ex vs chil just wanting to be friends and crushing hard on reader
take it like a man!
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…ft! chilchuck x fem! reader
…tags! fluff, reader is into fashion
…wc! 2294
…notes! chilchuck tims and emmett forrest are the same to me (my type). this is so incredibly self indulgent thank you for enabling me anon.  a lot of dialogue is paraphrased from the song/show, such is the way of songfics. enjoy!
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Oh, how Chilchuck wished he could say no to you.
He didn’t know what he was expecting from you and Marcille’s ‘sweep your wife off her feet operation’, otherwise shortened to SYWOHF which Chilchuck pointed out was an awful name for a campaign.  You elected to ignore him.
In actuality, he really wanted to just do this his own way.  What he had in mind was just to pay a visit and talk things through.  As those with a little womanly touch, you and Marcille knew that wouldn’t be enough.  Chilchuck had to prove he was serious about this – that he really wanted his wife back in his life!
Seeing how excited you were showing off your step by step plan… he didn’t have the heart to tell you that he really just wanted to remain friends with her.
So, here he is.  Having his eyes covered by your hands as you guide him through the busy streets of… who knows where.
“Almost there,” your breathless though excited voice reaches his ears, “I promise!”
You finally slow to a stop, and Chilchuck also gets the chance to speak about his thoughts on this.  Simply being, “this is pointless.  We don’t need to be doing all this.”
Scoffing, you fold your arms.  “Don’t be like that!  A conversation isn’t the only way to win her over.”
“No,” Chilchuck starts, “but it would sure make me look desperate!”  He swats your hands off and away from his face.  His back is turned away from the building you’re arguing outside of, not even bothering to see what you’re doing.
You frown.  Chilchuck doesn’t easily get so frustrated with you.  That’s what people usually say – if anyone can convince him to do anything, it’d be you.  “Chil,” you try to appeal.  You even try physically reaching out, hand hovering over his shoulder.  “Work with me here.  We can do this in a way that will prove yourself, and let her know you’ve changed.  For the better.”
Chilchuck listens to you, sparing you a sidelong glance as you go on with your speech.  “You make it sound like we’re in some romance novel.  This isn’t ‘for the better’ I just want to talk to her.”
“No you don’t, you want her back in your life!”
“Well…!”  Chilchuck stutters at how blunt your words are.  You are way too observant for your own good.  He never knows how to talk to you cooly when you do this.  “Well, of course I do!  And I can do that by slowly building up trust between us again, without rushing anyone.”
Where Chilchuck expects begging to follow through with your scheme, you simply look at him with a cold expression– colder than he’s ever seen you wear.  “So you have the chance to run away again if things get too much?  Sacrificing your integrity?”
You’re both lucky this little nook in the streets was away from most crowds.  Save for the passersby' conversations, the silence would have been strife with weight.  Chilchuck opens his mouth, then closes it again.  He repeats the action, and tries to use his hands to communicate his thoughts to no avail.
He settles for turning away from you in angered shame, fists balled at his sides and tips of his ears growing red.  “...I guess.”
You smile, knowing you have swayed the half-foot to your side.  Even in the dungeon, your debates went this way.  Chilchuck would present a cynical, logical approach whilst you were more realistic – something your appearance doesn’t really match with.  Chilchuck thinks he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Not like he’d say that to your face.
Hearing your confident hum, Chilchuck sighs and turns back to you.  “Why do you always have to be right?”  He complains about this constantly.  You always seem to one-up him in ways he can never prepare for.
“I don’t have to be,” your attitude and voice returns to its usual, jovial form, “when I’m with you, I just am!”
You reach over to Chilchuck once more right as he’s about to make a scathing comment back at you.  His face is a bit too close for comfort with a wooden door, an entrance somewhere.
“You trust me to help you impress your wife, don’t you?”  You ask, with a clear sense of finality.
Chilchuck doesn’t think he has much of a choice in the matter.  “...Of course,” he responds honestly but you can hear his voice waver.
He can practically sense your smile from behind.  “Then don’t stop now.”
You wish you could say without a spot of bias that you were 100% supporting the operation at hand.  In actuality, it came with a heavy sacrifice of your own feelings remaining unsaid.  Of course you just had to fall for the semi-married man.  You have already tried to move on, from distracting yourself with an operation like this, to asking Izutsumi to pummel your head with a rock (which she was very close to doing).
This will have to do.
It was like magic, how the environment of the building interior rushes through you.  Chilchuck even feels it, his large eyes blinking as he drinks in the sight.
“...Where are we?” he asks, almost dreamily.  A beautiful ceiling lamp shines onto coloured wallpaper.  The scent reminds him of the kind of perfume Marcille would use.  It’s strangely… alluring.
You lean your face over Chilchuck’s shoulder.  “Oh, nothing much.  Just the most trendy half-foot exclusive clothing store in Kahka Brud.”  You can easily sense Chilchuck’s shock from this position – amusing you greatly.  “Here.”
You stand up behind Chilchuck again, massaging his shoulders.  “Just take a deep breath, and let it sink in.  We’ll be here for a bit so get used to the smells and lights.  Feel how it draws you in.”
“I’m feelin’ it alright,” Chilchuck responds, moreso about how he has no idea what convinces people to remain in these environments for so long without feeling overstimulated.
He already feels hot with how you’re handling him.
You move around so you’re in front of Chilchuck.  “Listen, I know this can be… overwhelming,” you start, giving the understatement of the century, “but think about who you’re doing this for.  Swallow your pride and… pick out anything you think is nice.  I’ll do the same.”
Chilchuck nods, about to set off, but not before you take his face, squishing his cheeks a comedic amount so he’s forced to pout and look you in the eye.
“Promise me you won’t run.  Take it like a man, alright?”
You let him go, and Chilchuck swears the heat on his body is from the stuffy maze of clothes stalls.  As he navigates the first selection of half-foot men’s clothes he sees, he tries to ignore the thoughts that seem to non-stop course through his brain.
He’s largely unsuccessful.
What are you getting out of this?  Some sort of second-hand pride at bringing together two estranged lovers?  Wait ‘til you find out the truth – that those aren’t where his true feelings lie.  Why can’t you leave well enough alone?
Why does he let you string him along with every plan you come up with?
You arrive back with a couple of blazer–pants combos, calling out Chilchuck’s name as you do so.  Damn, you sure are speeding through the process.
“So, I took the liberty of picking some of the more fancy kinds of suits.”  You hold them up in your arms.  “Whaddya think?”
“Suits,” Chilchuck repeats dryly, in disbelief of how far you’re taking the idea of impressing a woman.  He looks through each of the three upon seeing your determined expression.
He points at the pale pink option.  “Absolutely not.”
He gestures to the navy one with a thinner fabric.  “I like this one.”
Finally, he only spares at a glance at the creatively patterned suit.  “I think I’d sooner be fed to wargs than be seen in that.”
You assemble each of the selections in order of preference.  You muse, “I see, I see…  Something refined but masculine.  Much better than your ‘tattered chic’ look.  Like an old book forever trapped in a library.”
Chilchuck furrows his brow as you run off again.  “Wh– What’s that supposed to mean, jerk?!”
He sighs.  He watches you as you make a few more choices again, before Chilchuck tries to distract himself looking at ties.  He’s come this far.  He should trust in your instinct.  It hasn’t failed him– or anyone yet.
So what the Hell?
Before Chilchuck knows it, he’s handed the acutely sized down, perfect combination of blazer and pants, and he’s stuffed inside a changing room.  He’s instructed to change into the whole thing.
As he does so, you can’t help but pace.  This is it.  This is the winning goal to help him impress his old flame.  It’ll be like an academy romance – falling in love all over again like you’re teenagers.  You sigh longingly.  If only you can be there, in her place.
“You’re gonna look great!”  You converse with Chilchuck through the curtain.  “You’ll become a whole new man, promise!  You’ll bloom like a rose!”
“It’s just clothes,” Chilchuck, in his usual cynicism, calls back.
You return with a raspberry.  “Don’t be such a Debbie-downer.”
“Wow.  No one’s called me that since grade school.”
“Maybe not to your face.”
Even without looking at him, you can imagine the scoff and eye roll he must be giving you, interrupted by a small choke on his own spit.  “Is this the price?”
“Ignore that!” You quickly respond.  “It’s my treat!  Come out, come out, I wanna see you!”
Better to gloss over the fact you worked hard to do this for Chilchuck with a high budget.  No doubt he’d tease you or outright refuse it.  You open the curtain and pull Chilchuck out by his arm.  He quickly adjusts himself and you both stand in front of the wall length mirror.
“...Woah.”
It’s said naturally in sync.  Both of you hardly recognise the brunette half-foot in the form fitting suit and tie.  With a bit of hair maintenance and more time to actually make himself look presentable… 
“I look like Laios on a good day,” Chilchuck jokes.
Your breath caught in your throat, you can only let out, “y-yeah.”
You pray he doesn’t notice how enthralled you are in his appearance, if slightly ungroomed.
Once the moment passes, Chilchuck makes himself comfortable by loosening his tie and undoing a button or two, then putting his arms where they usually are behind his neck.  “But it’s just me.”
Without hesitation, you find yourself speaking without meaning to.  “Is that not the best part?”
Chilchuck looks at you in confusion.  “What?”
“I-I mean…” you trail off.  You look nervous.  That’s rare for you.  Usually you always had something to say.  Now you look like you’re trying to figure out how to word something in a specific way.  Why?
You move behind Chilchuck to smooth down some of his hair.  “You may look more charming but… this is all you.  Your choices, your style…  It reflects who you are on the inside.  That’s the magic of fashion.”
Chilchuck laughs a little, mostly at his own cluelessness.  He can’t believe he’s underestimated a simple shopping trip.  “Thank you,” he says, with complete sincerity.
“No.”  You shake your head.  “This is not a gift.  I’m just… This is me thanking you for how you let me get away with so much.”
Your hands land on his shoulders, and Chilchuck’s fingers find their way to interlace with yours.  For just a few more moments, you look at yourselves in the mirror.
Catching yourself, you step away from the situation – from him.  “Well?  Come on, you need to buy this.  I’d want to marry you if you took me out looking like this!”
The half-foot flushes red.  You got to know what you’re doing to him.  “That’s not really—”
“Chilchuck.  Please.”  You place your hands on your hips, looking dead serious.  “You look hot.”
…Well, he can’t argue with you.  If you really think that, then who is he to deny it?
“Fine.  I’ll get it.”
You smile that cocky grin Chilchuck has grown to love.  “That’s our man.”
Leaving the shop was like a breath of fresh, unperfumed air.  Chilchuck would nearly fall to his knees and start kissing the ground if he paid too much attention to how his legs ached.  The post shopping trip fatigue is really hitting him.
“I enjoyed this,” he however admits.  “Maybe women are onto something when it comes to clothes.”
“That’s why you should always listen to whenever a woman is speaking,” you wisely advise, making Chilchuck nod with a slight snort.
He stops at a crossroads, where you go back to his place, and he goes back to his.  “You can trust that I will now.”
“Good.”  You sigh in relief knowing your venture was successful.  Maybe too successful, because now you may lose him.
Chilchuck keeps looking at you with affection.  You can’t say you haven’t noticed how he keeps sparing you glances, mostly throughout the shopping trip.  Maybe he has warmed up to you?
Still, neither of you can stop yourselves at this point.
You approach, and for a hopeful second, Chilchuck tilts his head a bit to the left, eyelids lowering and leaning into you.  Your arms wrap around his middle.
Your face nuzzles into his neck as you hug the man tight.  Chilchuck is still for a few seconds.  A hug.  Right.  Of course you’d want a hug…  He responds in kind.
“See you soon, Chil. I wish you luck.”
“Y-Yeah.  Luck with the lady.”
Your happiness comes with a heavy sacrifice of Chilchuck’s feelings remaining unsaid.
He’ll take it like a man.
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beachbxtchforev · 18 hours
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Tan Lines
your boyfriend adored your tan lines more than you, if that was even possible.
• this is my 1st ever post so pls be nice 🤍🌊
→ pls leave a comment below if you like it & if I should do a pt2
pairing: fem!reader x boyfriend!rafe
word count: 600
warnings: slight smut, few curse words, 18+
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all year you looked forward to the permanent halter top that adorned your skin. wearing the same bikini over and over, countless hours in the sun, finding the perfect lotion. it was all a part of the tanning routine that led to a sun kissed glow. for some reason the lines made you feel more beautiful, not that they changed your appearance. it was like a confident boost, an accessory. you really couldn’t love your tan lines more, unless you were going up against rafe cameron of course.
you were laying out by the pool in the backyard of Tanneyhill, playlist flowing through your speaker, occasionally spraying yourself with a squirt bottle to cool you down. your routine was down to a science. ever since you had met Rafe, he had kept his door open to you, encouraging you to treat the Cameron estate as your own. that being said, it wasn’t unusual for you to use the grounds without Rafe’s presence, like today.
that is until you heard a low whistle, breaking you of your slight daze.
“my god, baby. aren’t you a sight?” Rafe complimented as he approached your chair from behind. you looked up at your boyfriend, golf-clad appearance making you unintentionally clench your thighs. he had just returned from a country club outing with the boys.
“hi handsome,” you smiled up at him, “how’d you play?”
Rafe shook his head, “Topper couldn’t hit for shit. took us a whole extra hour just waitin’ for him to get it together.” he grumbled as he moved to sit on the end of your chair, eager to get his hands on you.
“if I woulda known this is what was waitin’ for me,” he starts while tugging at the strap of your bikini bottom and letting it snap back in place, “I woulda left his ass on the course.”
you giggle, sitting up to reach his mouth, letting out a content sigh when your lips touch. you’re not surprised when Rafe instantly takes things further, his tongue running across your bottom lip.
as you grant him access, he follows momentum, guiding you to lay back down in the sun chair, slightly shifting so his body is laying on top of yours. you can’t help but let out a small moan, knowing where this is going.
“Raaafe,” you whine, “we are outside. anyone could see us.” the last thing you want is for Rose to catch you two.
“no one’s home, I checked on my way in,” he distracts you by running his hand up your bare side until his fingers brush the underside of your breast. “let me see what you’ve been workin on all morning,” he begs, however his needy fingers already have pulled the tiny piece of triangle fabric out of the way.
a small grunt escapes his lips as he sees your exposed bud, mixed with the perfect outline of the bikini that once stuck to your body. the cool sensation of the wind making it perk up, causing you to gasp at the sensation. he can’t help himself but immediately attach his lips to your skin, slightly sucking while his left hand comes up to massage the other. once he feels satisfied, Rafe moves his mouth along the tan line, like it’s his guide. small open mouthed kisses and occasional nips forming marks going up to your collar bone.
small moans escape your lips, back arching to get closer to his mouth. your hands run along his buzzed head, nails lightly scratching his scalp. “need you, Rafe. please”
-
comment if I should do a part 2! ✨
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laineystein · 2 days
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If I may? You seem to have an incredibly rosy view of Israel and live comfortably there. And I am happy you do! I just also have seen Israelis on tumblr speak of the struggle with the rising cost of living.
This includes having to be self conscious about the price of brands to pick, and the rent of apts. (Which are pretty common things to deal with anywhere lately). I’ve also seen an Israeli blogger say that if you don’t have a background in engineering and tech, there’s not much of a future for you in Israel-or at least not one where you can live well.
On a personal level, I struggle to comprehend the idea of bomb shelters being a conscious part of every day life in so many parts of Israel. I don’t know how you guys do it, I really don’t.
I’ve been passive-aggressively criticized for having what some would deem a rosy view of life in general so I don’t know if I’m the best person to be giving you my feedback. What I can say confidently is that I have lived elsewhere and I will forever choose to live in Israel because it is the place I truly feel is home. Yes, things are expensive but they’re expensive where I lived in the diaspora as well. Homes here are not any more expensive than they were where I lived in the diaspora. Our economy is certainly curtailed to specific professions but so is every economy. Being an engineer and being in tech is also currently the most lucrative profession in the diaspora. I’m not saying that Israel doesn’t have its issues. It does and I reference them often. I’d probably talk about them more if I wasn't so used to a lot of it; I’m used to sirens and bomb shelters and tzahal and I don’t know how to explain that to someone who isn’t. It’s just always been apart of my life and it’s not going to change anytime soon so it is what it is. I also have no problem acknowledging that I grew up very privileged and still live a very privileged life so that may have something to do with my viewpoint. But here’s the thing - I just can’t live in a non-Jewish world. I can’t live my life comfortably in a non-Jewish world. And that’s not solely because of antisemitism. I keep kosher. I keep Shabbos. And nearly everyone I love (in the diaspora) is visibly Jewish. The men wear kippot and tzitzis. The women dress tznius and cover their hair. When you are this religiously observant it’s difficult to exist in a non-Jewish world. Our holidays are different and it’s not a default to have them off and not every company you work for will be fine with you taking them off - even if it’s illegal for them not to. In the US, you can’t make friends with coworkers because you can’t see them on the weekends or eat at their restaurants or in their homes. Sending your children to a Jewish school like the one I attended is like paying college tuition per child, per year; my parents paid over 100K every year sending me and my three brothers to school - the same school would be much more affordable in Israel. We’re nothing but pawns to the political system there - the right and the left both hate us. We are politically homeless and we’re too much of a minority for it to matter. So there’s a million reasons *not* to live in the diaspora as a Jew. For me, there is also a million reasons to live in Israel. The proximity to our holy sites. The weather. The fact that we have beaches and deserts and mountains and forests and rain and snow and sunshine. The diet and the healthier lifestyle. The joy. There’s so much joy here and I feel sorry for anyone that disagrees. I can be openly Jewish here. My Jewishness is not an inconvenience here. I do not have to apologize for it or hide it. And yes, I will forever feel safer here than I ever have in the US. Is Israel also an absolute dumpster fire sometimes? Of course it is. I’m not saying it’s for everyone. Living here will be a huge shock for many Jews. But for some of us, it makes sense and the pros will forever outweigh the cons.
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sugarsweetvirgo · 21 days
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Trust
A glimpse into Eve and Kaiba's slow and very shaky start into a relationship, along with how Eve acquired her favorite choker.
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theheadlessgroom · 1 year
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https://www.tumblr.com/beatingheart-bride/710019365046763520/theheadlessgroom-beatingheart-bride
@beatingheart-bride
“​I don’t think it’s silly at all,” he smiled, delighted to know that she had enjoyed the show (even if it was simply the orchestra) as much as he had, as well as admiring her desire to see what he and the rest of the audience saw during a performance. “It’s wonderful to watch-I-I would enjoy watching an opera with you, were we ever afforded that chance.”
What with her being the leading lady now (and would hopefully be the leading lady in many, many productions to come; he had a feeling her future as the opera’s star was within reach), the opportunity for both Randall and Emily to sit down and watch a show together seemed not quite in the cards at the moment (not unless Emily could be in two places at once), but he still liked to imagine that, someday, she would be afforded that chance. Under what circumstances he did not know, but it was a day he liked to think was possible.
And what a day that would be! The two of them, seated in Box Five together, watching and enjoying the show in their own private box in their evening best...perhaps he would see about getting them some fancy chocolates to enjoy during the show, or something to drink (he wasn’t a fan of any of the alcohols available in the café; he’d tasted a few out of curiosity and decided very quickly that they were not for him, instead favoring sparkling, non-alcoholic ciders and the like instead)…she would have the best seat in the house, and he would have the best company...
(He wished most of all, however, that Emily could see what he saw on opening night, when she made her grand debut: He wished he could see how magical she would be onstage, how she would wow the audience with her beautiful voice and emotional performance...she could see how amazing she really, truly was, how gifted she was as a performer!)
“What opera would you most like to see?” Randall asked her curiously, brows raising in interest behind the mask.
#((you make a great point; and i agree! i don't think that randall would be nearly as enamored as he is here))#((were he to have a normal; more stable upbringing; but i also feel like he'd still be very keen on music))#((enough to want to pursue a career in it-i see wilhelm as being fairly musical himself; as he plays the harpsichord))#((and so it just gets me thinking about that fondness for music rubbing off on randall and inspiring him! it might not be the same passion))#((as he has here in this 'verse but i feel like; in a kinder world; he'd still love music; enough to seek out the opera))#((and meet emily as a result!))#((as for his face...i'm not sure! obviously june and wilhelm would work hard to make randall feel confident in himself))#((and not let anyone get him down because of how he looks; but i could see him wearing something when out in public))#((maybe some sort of prosthetics a'la that one-shot we did; where he devised a makeup/prosthetics to wear))#((so that he could go out with emily and the twins? i'm just spitballin' but maybe that'd be his workaround!))#((and true; it is kinda funny! but honestly emily will ALWAYS bring out the pace's parental sides; regardless of how old she is))#((or what she is! vampire? yup! siren? yup!))#((...actually now i'm thinking about little emily meeting little randall at gracey manor when june was working there))#((and june feeling just as maternal towards her as she does towards dorian!))#((don't know if that's an au we would ever do but it just popped into my head and i just imagine little randall being smitten))#((with little emily; just the way little dorian is smitten with little elizabeth!))#outofhatboxes#beatingheart-bride#V:Phantasm of the Mansion
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theramblingvoid · 1 year
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Yes maybe I should be asleep right now but maybe instead I'm filled with rage and grief at the realization that even if I work hard at my transition and put money and research and so so much effort into it for years, change myself as much as I can, all I'll ever be able to achieve is to make people see me as transmasc or if I'm "lucky" as a man, there is nothing in my power to do to make people see me as a being outside of gender or the binary, I'll either be seen as a woman or a woman who's trying to be a man until the day I die because I was not born with the genetics to be naturally gender ambiguous and nobody else was born with the brain to see anything other than the binary, the only ways available to me to overcompensate for my body result in me being seen as male even by other queer people and I'm not I'm not I'm not only one thing or the other but I'll never be able to live the way I want to
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gloryinthunder · 6 months
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I used to really love the first romance scene with Astarion (and I still do) but it hits so much harder after you know why he's doing it. That he's purposefully seducing you for protection and blood, that he's forcing himself to sleep with you, and this is a mask he's wearing.
It's a sexy scene and really feeds into the vampy (pun intended) jump-your-bones version of him you get at the start of the game. The whole thing starts out with him being so confident and suave, saying that he's wanted you ever since he set eyes on you and how you want to be known and tasted. It's like everyone's perfect vampire romance novel.
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He's laying out the bait that's worked thousands of times over and luring you in. And you can just get right to the kissing if you want.
But, you can also stop and ask him, "And what do you want?"
And for just a moment the mask drops. This is not the same cocky seductive face we've had up until now. This is vulnerability showing. When has anyone asked him what he wants? When has anyone cared? Does he even know the answer to that question?
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So he pivots. The mask snaps back into place immediately. He turns back into the master seducer and feeds you a line about shared ecstasy to get you back on track.
And then comes what is, to me, the pivotal moment. He asks you "That's what you want, isn't it? To lose yourself in me?"
Looking at his body language he seems unsure at first, maybe questioning his previous tactics. Then he slightly cowers back, lowering himself as he asks the question. The total opposite of his confidence from earlier where he's standing with his arms out wide.
He's not sure what you want anymore. You're not playing by the rules he knows. Why haven't you taken the bait yet? Why haven't you thrown yourself at him?
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And when you finally Nod in agreement, confirming you're here for sex?
This. This is the face he gives you. He just looks so damn sad. To me, it hearkens back to "Of course it'll turn me into a monster. What else did I expect?"
Whatever momentary blip made him question why you're there with him, he's just been reassured about both of your roles in this situation.
He sounds so quietly resigned when he answers: "I thought so."
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And then the scene transitions into the actual act. I do like to think Astarion enjoyed himself as I'm sure the PC did, but it's hard for me to watch this scene now that I know his story and history without being uncomfortable.
Just that line "lose yourself in me" is so difficult to hear. Because on paper it's so sensual. Who wouldn't want a lover to feel that way about them? But knowing the context of what Astarion expects and believes in this moment is just... oof.
And to me, this is what makes this scene brilliant. The writing, voice acting, and the mocap/animation are all just SO GOOD. It's so delicately done and Astarion the character is so good at playing a role that you can completely gloss over the deeper stuff. But once the mask is eventually stripped away you can't help but see what was there the whole time.
And as we've established, being seen is a whole aspect of Astarion's romance arc.
I originally romanced Astarion for the same reasons I'm sure most did: he's a hot, sexy vampire elf (i.e. everything that's on the surface). But, I keep coming back to him over and over again for the person I know is waiting for me underneath the mask.
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Infernal Shadows
Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.
Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it.
Song for this chapter: The world we knew by Frank Sinatra.
A/N: I wanna make this a three part short story, so if anyone is interested in being tagged in the second part just let me know!! I hope you enjoy!!
Word count: 2655
Navigation!! // Masterlist!!! // Serendipity Writes (event) // Part two
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Getting an invite to the annual crimson ball, hosted by yours truly, was nothing but an honor. Every overlord and every sinner in the pride ring waited anxiously for a letter. A black card with white letter in a cursive font stating ‘You have been personally invited by Hells biggest designer. The list of the gala was simple. The usual overlords, Zestial, Carmilla Carmine and her daughters, Zeezie, Rosie, Fredrick Von Eldritch and Bethesda von Eldritch. Alastor who had came back after seven years of hiding god knows where, and by special request, the three vee’s who had never attended the gala before. Then it becomes a bit more political.
Next on the list was the Goetia family, inviting the recently divorced prince with his daughter. Inviting Lucifer and Lilith, though they only ever came when everyone was gone. Then was their daughter Charlotte, who got a plus one as a special perk of being the princess of hell. Husk because he had been an old friend of yours before his status of Overlord was taken from him by none other than Alastor. He was also given a plus one, though he usually never brought anyone extra. Sir Pentious was a candidate, but ultimately scrapped from your list of invites as you felt he was too childish.
The gala was tonight and everything was going smoothly. Preparations were almost done, the foyer was spotless just the way you liked it, and everything seemed to be falling into place. You stared at yourself in the mirror. You had spent months designing your perfect dress for tonight. Everyone attending the gala knew there was only ever one color off limits, because you always wore it best. The color black always suited you perfectly. No one could wear it better than you.
Back at the hotel, Charlie felt guilty for using her authority as princess to have people help her get ready for this gala. Based on what Alastor had told her, there would be a lot of political powers and fellow overlords there. She wanted to look her best if she was going to pitch the hotel to them. She needed more people on board with the project, maybe someone who didn’t think it was complete and utterly ridiculous joke like Alastor did.
“How do I look?” Charlie asked as the makeup and hair artists stepped away from her. Charlie stepped out, allowing Vaggie to get a better look at her in a tailored charcoal gray suit, a departure from her usual vibrant red attire. The jacket, adorned with subtle pinstripes, accentuated her frame, while the crisp, white silk shirt underneath added a touch of formality. Completing the ensemble, she wore a black tie with a discreet pattern that hinted at both elegance and authority. The ensemble was a strategic choice, projecting confidence and a readiness to engage with the political powers present at the gala for the sake of her hotel. Vaggie smiled and hugged Charlie deeply, their embrace making Charlie feel a little less nervous about the whole ordeal.
“Charlie you look amazing. What happened to the red?” Vaggie asked, before Charlie just chuckled.
“Well, I wanted a change for tonight. I’m always in red, and I feel like they’ll take me more serious if I’m not walking in there with my usual attire. Besides, you read the invitation, ‘formal attire, look your best’.” Charlie said. Vaggie nodded, and Charlie pulled back from the hug to admire Vaggie in her dress. She was wearing a sleek and modern grey dress that gracefully embraced the formal occasion. The dress, with its tailored fit and subtle shimmer, exuded class. The knee-length hemline added a contemporary touch, and Vaggie had decided to pair it with black heels to complete the ensemble. The choice of grey complemented Charlie’s charcoal gray suit, creating a coordinated yet distinct look that would surely make an impression at the gala. Charlie felt her cheeks heat up taking in her appearance, her long hair gently pinned back, the loose pieces of hair framing her face.
“Aww, Vaggie you look so pretty!!” Charlie said excitedly. Vaggie just smiled, ignoring the way her cheeks heated up at Charlies compliment.
“I agree, you look good vagina.” Angel said mockingly, causing Vaggie to glare at him. Charlie just gushed.
“Angel be nice. This is really important for the hotel.” Charlie explained. He just nodded, tilting his head back and downing a bottle of liquor. The staff however was interrupted by Angel making a purring sound at Husk, who was dressed in a nice white suave dinner jacket, with perfect cutouts for his wings, along with some sleek black trousers and some black dress shoes. The match, he had a black silk lapel.
“I can think of another place that suit would look.” Angel said, leaning onto Husk. He rolls his eyes, bottle in hand.
“Do I even wanna know?” He asks, and Angel just grins.
“On my bedroom floo-“ Angel doesn’t get to finish, being shrugged off by Husk who just walks away with a shake of his head.
“Oh my gosh! Husk you look amazing!” Charlie squealed in delight. Husk just smiled softly before setting his drink on the bar counter.
“It appears everyone is ready.” Alastor said, the focus of the room shifting to him. Niffty was at his side studying his outfit from head to toe.
Alastor emerged in an ensemble that deviated from his usual eccentricity, opting for a more formal yet captivating look. A deep red velvet tailcoat adorned his frame, its luxurious texture catching the light. Dark-red lapels, meticulously piped with gold, added a touch of opulence. Underneath, he wore a perfectly tailored crimson dress shirt, the power emitting off of him. Suddenly, the room grew just a tad bit darker, the shadows of the room stretching just a bit. Complementing the ensemble, he chose a pair of well-fitted black dress pants, allowing the bold red hue to take center stage on his appearance. His choice of footwear shifted to polished black oxford shoes, a departure from his usual pointed-toe boots. The finishing touches of the outfit included a matching red silk bowtie, neatly knotted at his throat, and black leather gloves that added a refined edge. Alastor’s presence was commanding, radiating an air of formality while retaining the distinctive charm that defined him. The room was captivated by the Radio Demon’s unexpected transformation into a vision of refined class and style.
“You took forever for that?” Niffty said, before Angel Dust tossed a pillow at her.
“Shut it you. We, we are keeping,” Angel said, hands waving around Alastor, “to whatever this is.”
“Style.” Alastor said confidently. Vaggie just face palmed while Charlie clapped her hands together excitedly.
“Okay, I think everyone’s ready. Should we head out?” Charlie asked. Vaggie nodded, before Alastor dug the invitation out of his coat pocket. Standing near a wall, he traced the symbol on the back of the card on the wall. “Uh, Al? What are you doing?” Charlie asked. He grinned, putting his hand flat on the wall. The symbol began to glow green, before it opened a portal. On the other side, was a large house. The grand Victorian mansion stood as a testament to opulence, its imposing facade adorned with intricate wrought-iron black railings and embellished balconies with hints of chains. Tall, arched windows with stained glass panels framed the exterior, allowing glimpses of the soft glow emanating from within. The entrance, marked by a sweeping staircase, welcomed guests with ornate, carved intricate detailed doors. Charlie, Vaggie and Husk followed Alastor through the portal, Charlie waving goodbye to Niffty, and Angel. Sir Pentious was most likely hiding out in a room somewhere with his egg boys.
As guests approached, they marveled at the meticulous details of the architecture – elaborate moldings, corbels, and friezes adorned every corner. Ivy-clad walls added a touch of nature’s grace, intertwining with wrought-iron lampposts that cast a warm ambiance over the meticulously landscaped gardens.Inside, the grand foyer unfolded, revealing a sweeping staircase adorned with a rich, mahogany handrail. Crystal chandeliers hung from soaring ceilings, their light refracted by ornate mirrors that lined the walls. Plush Victorian-era furnishings, upholstered in rich fabrics, adorned the parlor rooms, creating intimate spaces for guests to gather and converse.Every room whispered of a bygone era – intricately patterned wallpaper, gilded frames displaying classical art, and the faint fragrance of aged wood and lavender.
The air was infused with a sense of refinement, transporting guests to a time when elegance reigned supreme. The Victorian mansion, a splendid backdrop for the gala, promised an evening steeped in grandeur and charm. In the middle of the exterior grounds, a grand fountain of blood took center stage. Its sculpted marble figures spouted blood into the air, catching the moonlight in a dance of liquid elegance. The fountain, surrounded by manicured gardens and flowering shrubs, became a focal point for guests as they strolled through the outdoor spaces, the gentle sound of cascading blood adding a serene touch to the gala’s errie atmosphere.
The overlords arrival made the event much more real. Alastor hums to himself as he walks around the outside grounds. There are servants of all kinds walking around with glasses of champagne. Rosie is sitting on a bench, plucking thorns off a rose. Alastor smiles to himself, happy to see a familiar face he know he can confide in.
“Rosie dear! So nice to see you.” Alastor said with a smile. She smiles at him, teeth razor sharp.
“Do you think you’ll be getting a seat tonight?” She asks, snapping the rose off its stem and tossing it to the side.
“Well of course I will. It’d be a mistake if I wasn’t.” Alastor said with a smile, crossing his legs as he sat down next to her. Sinners from all over the pride ring were socializing outside of the large mansion. He knew you were inside finalizing preparations and possibly screaming your head off. Overall, the air was chilled with a comfortable atmosphere. Well, it had been comfortable, until a loud noisy vehicle stopped at the front gates. Everyone’s heads were turning, Rosie and Alastor looking at each other with strained smiles. Stepping out of the large limousine were the three vee’s, vulgar music blaring from the vehicles speakers as the three made their way through the now open gates. Reporters lined the edges of the gates, trying desperately to see the overlords inside and to try and sneak into the gala, which was starting soon.
“Mr.Vox! Mr.Vox!” News reporters shouted. Velvet was busy taking selfies of her and her outfit, her assistant following close behind her. Valentino was busy looking down at everyone, smoking his usual, while taking his long strides next to Vox, who was in the middle of the three.
On Vox’s right was Valentino, who donned a captivating look for the gala. His tailored white suit boasted a jacket that reached just above the knee, a subtle departure from his usual floor-length coat. The crimson silk lining peeked through, adding a luxurious touch to the outfit. The coat, reminiscent of his extravagant style, also had a vivid-red hue with his signature white fur trim at the wrists. The black and white striped fur trim along the center-front added a distinctive flair. A gold chain and love-heart-shaped broach fastenings adorned the coat, creating an opulent yet alluring look. Finally, he wore polished black heeled boots, maintaining the sleek and captivating allure that defined Valentino’s presence. The familiar color scheme remained intact, blending sophistication with a hint of provocative charm for the grand gala.
On Vox’s left was Velvet, who had spent months perfecting her outfit for the gala, in hopes she’d be invited of course. She had begged the boys to keep a good public appearance, in hopes they’d be recognized and invited to the crimson gala. Velvette, deciding to ditch her usual style, embraced a lavish and over-the-top look that represented her brand. Dressed in a knee-length dress, the garment had a striking blend of black and red hues. The dress, fitted at the waist, flowed into a voluminous skirt, creating a sense of extravagance. The bodice of the dress featured intricate lace detailing. A white collar adorned with a velvet bow added a playful yet mature flair. The sleeves, a fusion of burgundy and white patterns, contributed to the overall lavish aesthetic she had been going for. Her accessories took on a more refined form. Velvet gloves, adorned with delicate lace, graced her hands, and a pearl necklace adorned her neck, adding a classic touch, completed with maroon heels, each step resonating with a sense of grandeur. Velvet’s transformation into this upscale attire reflected her desire to make a statement at the Crimson Gala.
In the middle, and the brains of the three vee’s, was none other than the head of Vox Tech, Vox himself. He wore a sleek and modern dark blue tuxedo, tailored with precision. Of course he could only have the best. The suit featured subtle futuristic patterns that enhanced his ‘perfect’ sense of style. To complement his high-tech vibe, Vox wore a light blue undershirt with an upside-down broadcast symbol. Vox's gala attire seamlessly blended power and control with his technological edge, creating a memorable look in shades of dark blue, which in his opinion, was the best color.
Upon seeing Alastor, Vox’s eye twitched noticeably. The gates shut behind the three vee’s, closing off the gala to the public. The overlords begin to get closer together unknowingly, Zestial finding a comfortable corner to watch things play out. Carmilla and Zeezie stand close together, whispering to one another as both Rosie and Alastor stand from the bench. Vox, Valentino and Velvet make their way to the Radio Demon and his colleagues.
“I see the grandpa’s were invited.” Velvet says with a scoff, scrolling through her phone.
“So disrespectful.” Carmilla says under her breath, looking away from the three vee’s.
“Hm, interesting, and I was beginning to think the only interesting thing tonight would be the dinner.” Bethesda said, her brother nodding.
“Well, it seems the children brought their play date to the public then.” Zeezie says. The other overlords laugh and Valentino sneers at her.
“Well an idiota like you would think so. Then again, don’t you all do the same with your diapers?” He asked, puffing the smoke into her face. She growls at him, fists clenching at her side, but Carmilla stops her.
“Didn’t they say this was an adult only gala?” Carmilla asked, Rosie chuckling at her words.
“Oh can it grandma.” Velvete said. But Vox remained silent, having his own personal staring match with Alastor, whose smile was stretched ear to ear, teeth on full display.
“I thought this gala was meant for real talent?” Vox asked, stepping closer to Alastor.
“Well it was until you showed up.” Alastor said with a smile. “There’s no originality in copying someone else.” He tuts. Vox narrows his eyes, face twisting with anger as he steps closer to Alastor again.
“You wanna tell me something, you old piece of-“ Vox is stopped, the lights to the exterior of the mansion dimming. The lights behind the large front doors opening slowly. Two tall black shadowy figures stepped from the door, smoke at their feet.
“Thank you all for your attendance. As we know, the annual Crimson Gala is held every year, and this year is no different. With the new extermination date, important decisions must be made. Tonight, ten individuals will be selected to sit at Madame’s table where she will discuss private plans on how to move forward.” The two said in unison. Everyone fell silent as more shadows appeared, each one sitting on the sides of the steps. Lights around the staircases began to light up, and people began making their way up the stairs.
“Well~ this should be fun.”
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gremlingottoosilly · 10 days
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König baby trapping his online girlfriend on their first meeting in person.
Now, it's not like you wanted to fuck him on your first real date. You're a good girl who knows about the rule of three dates and how to not be a slut on the internet - and in real life, kinda, too. You aren't entirely sure what the policy is if you already had at least ten dates in various games and video chats where you already saw his dick more times than his face. It should count, right? You're not a slut, you're just...a bit assertive. Maybe not that confident. Definitely really, really into him and you wanted to meet for the longest time, but just didn't had time and everything felt so weird at first, so you just began to... He is just so tall in real life, you feel weird even looking at him. He is cooler than he was describing himself before - for starters, he really is huge. Gigantic. Muscular and bear-like, it didn't surprise anyone when you basically jumped on top of him in the first few hours of finally seeing him in person. No one could blame you - he is handsome, rough, and kinda extreme. You finally saw the guy who was showering you in money for the past few days and, really, you don't want to miss out on anything from that experience. You need him carnally, and your lack of dating experience allowed him to go past your alarms when he asked if you really wanted to use the condom. He said it's really hard to achieve orgasm while wearing something as restricting. He said he doesn't really like the feeling of rubber on his cock, and that he is way too big for this. Honestly, his cock does look a tad too big for a condom. You weren't on any pills, but he said it's fine - there is not a chance you'd get pregnant from just one time. He is sure he is like 80% infertile from the service chemicals. He will pull out. Buy you a morning-after pill just in case. The feeling of his cock filling you up with cum is just too much to bear, to be completely honest. You wouldn't exchange it for anything - you love it way too much. Want him to cover you up completely, to take you with him...little did you know that it's literally his plan. When you text him in panic, saying something about missing your periods and asking about the possibility of pregnancy, he would just tell you he is totally fine with being a father. Was preparing his whole life for this. Already bought you a ring and started working on a nursery in his house...oh, you're moving in with him, by the way.
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luciddownloading · 1 month
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Fashion/Style Tips for the Rising Signs 👠
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These is a gender-neutral post, by the way. Anyone can be a fashionista: male, female or non-binary
The Rising sign is the key to maximizing and defining your personal style. While Venus shows the way you'll want to feel in your clothes or put them together, your Rising sign indicates the kind of styling you'll like best/look best in and the aesthetic that is fit for you
(All the famous fashion icons in these gifs have these respective Rising signs, btw)
ARIES RISING
Fashion tip: Be bold
Aries Risings look best when they're wearing things that most people would not have the confidence to wear. Daring pieces and ensembles fit you like a glove, whether you are showing some skin or just pushing the edge of accepted taste. Something that could possibly look like a tragedy on someone else but that actually looks good when you wear it. You find your fashion sense when you take risks, which may end up starting trends. But, please, don't follow any trends yourself. You are meant to set the trends, honey!
An athletic or athleisure look would also be perfect for you. Sweatpants or track-pants aren't bummy on you. Aries Risings shine when they look like they just left the gym or are just going to the gym. Y2K fashion is coming back so, ladies, you would really rock a Juicy tracksuit (If you're old enough, maybe you did back in the day!) Regardless of your gender, adding a masculine touch to your ensemble will really make it pop. Also, red is your power color! Red pieces, red shoes/bottoms, red hair. It's bound to be memorable.
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TAURUS RISING
Fashion tip: Keep it simple
Taurus Risings look their best when their ensembles aren't flashy or busy. Less is more for this very casual placement. But, we're talking "chic casual". Maybe some low-key jewelry added but that's it. You could make a simple jeans and t-shirt outfit look impressive. As long as you're comfortable, you're good. Yet, it is very important that your clothes fit you perfectly. If the proportions are off, your discomfort will be obvious and it just won't look right. So, try everything on before you buy it! Know your measurements and, if you can afford it, get some of your clothes tailored.
Surprisingly, Taurus Risings aren't huge on labels. As the pragmatist you are, you will often thrift before you buy designer. Quality is VERY important to you and you have a radar for cheap or low-quality fabric. You would prefer to avoid fast fashion brands. You never, ever want to look cheap, even if you only spent a few dollars on the 'fit. But, if you do want to spend a little, you would look amazing in anything silk, wool, cashmere, velvet or fur. Fabric that is sensual or luxurious or elegant was made for you. The same goes for anything floral.
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GEMINI RISING
Fashion tip: Don't be dull
Gemini is one of the Rising signs that can get away with a lot more because your style is best when it's interesting. And when observing your fashion choices, some may say "interesting" in a shade-throwing way. But, it's better than being boring! Gemini Risings look best in the clothes they choose on a whim. Don't nail yourself down to one aesthetic. You can dabble in SO many different looks and pull them off. You also can be very trendy, always in touch with what's currently happening. You wouldn't dare keep last season's shoes in your closet. You also just get bored easily with old clothes. So, you might have quite the shopping habit to satisfy your current tastes.
Gemini Rising has the most fun with fashion when developing a sort of character through it. Are you the wild bohemian or the serious professional today? You can take it to the level of a borderline Halloween costume. You know how to adapt and shape-shift, style wise, based on the situation. You've got range, okay? And you will embrace all the accessories and colors that come with it. You will also definitely be someone who has sped through so many different looks and hairstyles in their life, to the point where you look like different people. When looking back at photos of your old self, you may cringe especially hard or just laugh and say, "I was working those bangs, wasn't I?"
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CANCER RISING
Fashion tip: Stick to what you know
What a Cancer Rising's actual look is will vary significantly. It has to be a style or aesthetic that is very personal; something that means a lot to them or that they're very comfortable in. But, whatever it is, you shouldn't stray too far from it. This Rising sign can play it safe with style but that doesn't have to be a negative. You just know what works. It ain't broken and you're not trying to fix it. You might also go through distinct phases where you are rocking a particular look for a long time and then you decide it's time to change. Your clothes are a direct reflection of how you're feeling.
Due to your love of comfort, you might be especially fond of sweaters. The bigger and cozier the better. Wintertime may be your favorite time because you enjoy wearing multiple layers. Cancer Risings LOVE coats and jackets, particularly the ones that they've had for years and hold sentimental value. It's hard for you to toss out old clothes, in general. You also look great in anything retro or vintage. It's that attachment to the past. Fashion from decades prior cycle back around eventually but you're usually ahead of the curve, already wearing that old stuff. You might be especially attached to styles from your younger days or from a certain time period in your life
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LEO RISING
Fashion tip: Make a statement
Leo Risings are capable of using fashion as an ideal vehicle for self-expression. Ideally, when you walk into a room, you want your ensemble to get attention. Now, that doesn't mean choose pieces that are loud or flashy or gaudy, even though some Leo Risings go that route. More so, it's about making sure that your clothes pop, that they really stand out. You look your best when you are the definition of "fashion statement" and that takes a great deal of confidence. Your clothes definitely need to wear you, not the other way around. Whatever you wear will work if you make it distinctive.
There are so many style choices that could work for you. Bold statement tees, for instance, are right up your alley. (Think Regina George's "a little bit dramatic" shirt in Mean Girls) But, you could also glam yourself up. You were meant to dress up, to possibly overdress for certain occasions. Not necessarily formal; more so polished or glossy. You would be that person to show up in a fancy 'fit to a casual event and some might hate but they'd low-key admire it. Also, you don't feel your best without the right pieces of shiny jewelry. And you would shine in colors like yellow, gold or orange.
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VIRGO RISING
Fashion tip: It's all in the details
As a Virgo Rising, you maximize your style when you pay attention to the details. The way everything is matching, the color of your nail polish (if you wear it), the fabric of your shirt, the fit of your pants. You look best when you put a lot of thought into your style, including your hair. Often, especially your hair. Virgo Risings rock the hell out of the "messy hair" look because it is very strategically messy. Even when you look like you're not trying, fashion-wise, there is a lot of time and effort behind it. On the flip side, you might actually roll out of bed and throw something on. But, somehow, when you do, you do it perfectly.
This is another placement where it is crucial for you to get clothes that fit you like a glove. The more form-fitting, the better. But, of course, not too tight, either! Baggy clothes would only work for you if that's the exact aesthetic you're going for. Speaking of which, you can master an aesthetic, once you choose one. You commit fully. The "clean girl" or "hot nerd" vibes would fit you most obviously, along with neutral or earthy colors like white, brown and green. But, you're also a style chameleon! Many with this Rising can wear androgynous pieces and styles extremely well. You might really impress by taking a generally masculine ensemble and adding a feminine piece or vice versa.
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LIBRA RISING
Fashion tip: Just look pretty
Surprisingly, Libra Risings can be very hit or miss when it comes to style. They're either impeccably dressed or look like they got into a fight with their closet and lost. However, the face card never declines! So, if all else fails, you're still going to look cute. Your looks either elevate your outfit or save it. What might look ugly on someone else has a certain charm when you wear it. Yet, many Libra Risings will have a Cher Horowitz kind of vibe: very stylish and chic in a way that is aspirational. You could really, really love fashion. You absorb a lot of current trends yet you could also become a bit of a trendsetter as people will find your wardrobe so aesthetically pleasing.
You could really benefit from having the input of someone you trust when it comes to clothes, whether that's a stylist or a very fashionable bestie or partner. Your shopping ventures are most successful when they're undertaken with someone else. Also, whenever there is a dress code, whether it's for a social event or on the job, Libra Risings will fully understand the assignment. You thrive by adding a more feminine touch to what you're wearing. For women, that could mean Barbiecore, being very girly or glossy/glittery/sparkly. Tomboys can have this placement but they doll up VERY well. And the men can get super-polished, wear pieces with a more feminine flair or even, in select cases, certain clothing meant for women. Both genders look amazing in pink.
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SCORPIO RISING
Fashion tip: Get a reaction
Scorpio Rising people look best in clothes or looks that are going to have a strong impact. Whatever you're wearing, it works best when it makes an intense impression. Kind of like Leo Rising but they are more about glam, pizzazz, expression. With you, it's more about taking it to an extreme. Your style could be incredibly out there or provocative. It might also be more low-key but you impress most when your fashion gets a rise out of others. Whether it's by having a dramatic and severe style, going totally monochromatic or giving very sexy looks, you have the power to stop others in their tracks with your clothes.
There are so many directions you can go in. Every Scorpio Rising's look will wildly differ because every day is like Halloween for you. I said the same about Gemini Rising but it's more lighthearted and playful with them. You can truly use clothes as a disguise. It's sort of your armor, which is why dressing sexy or showing skin is such a power move for you. Stereotypically, there is the goth look or the witchy aesthetic. But, this Rising sign has range. You can also shine in any type of power suit, emulate the mystique of Old Hollywood or, honestly, sell virtually any aesthetic since you will commit 110 percent. Of course, black is your power color and you look damn good in lace, leather, mesh or any type of boots. So, find a way to work those things into your ensemble.
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SAGITTARIUS RISING
Fashion tip: Be like a rock star
Sagittarius Rising looks best when not feeling hemmed in by other people's fashion rules and regulations. A carefree approach works very well for you, fashion-wise. When in doubt, ask yourself what a rock star would wear. That may lead to some questionable or messy choices, in others' eyes. But, you really pull it off! And even if you land on someone's Worst Dressed list, it doesn't matter much to you. Many people with this Rising sign really don't care much about fashion to begin with. And the ones who do know that a true fashionista takes risks and that is not always going to be loved by everyone. Whatever! Better luck next time.
You might be able to find your style by using a particular rock star as inspiration. It's no surprise that a lot of Sagittarius Risings prefer or look better in casual wear. But, it's more so casual with an edge, not just a shirt and jeans. You can feel very inspired by edgy street style and go in that direction. You're very adventurous with clothes and willing to try a lot of things once. The 1970's hippie/bohemian aesthetic would look really good on you. Instead of a power color, you can make the biggest impression in any kind of animal print: snakeskin, zebra stripes, cheetah print. Even those tropical-type/Hawaiian prints could work. What would be tacky on someone else could look oddly appealing on you.
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CAPRICORN RISING
Fashion tip: The world is your catwalk
First of all, so much of Capricorn Rising style comes from having a commanding presence. Being able to walk into a room and shift it, make people sit up. This attitude will only make your clothes more impressive. You need to think of yourself as a fierce 90's supermodel, just in terms of elegance and presence. If you don't have that type of confidence, work on it! Put effort into how you carry yourself, into being graceful yet strong, having a powerful walk. As you evolve into this majestic being, it will elevate whatever you wear. You make the clothes but the clothes also make you.
Like an iconic supermodel, you're most impressive in clothes that convey status or class. If you've got the coins, you will want the luxury brands: Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Armani, so on. If you don't, you will have a store or brand that is your version of Gucci. You're practical but don't like cheap clothes. You want to feel sophisticated. Capricorn Rising style is about developing a particular "uniform". Although some may thrive in formal/professional attire or a business-casual vibe, others can go in less traditional directions. In any case, you have very strict fashion rules you abide by. You look best in black, grey or beige. It's a rather basic color palette to many but you just find it to be a classic look.
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AQUARIUS RISING
Fashion tip: Be experimental
As an Aquarius Rising, you develop a sense of style by treating fashion like an endless experiment. You can be very innovative and inventive when it comes to your looks, from your ensembles to your accessories to your hair. I would say "don't be afraid to be different" but you've already mastered that! Most of your looks will be applauded, not ridiculed, for their uniqueness or riskiness and may even be highly imitated. This is definitely another "style icon" placement. The thing that makes it work is your free spirit, your casual poise, and disinterest in impressing anyone with your style. You're not trying to be cool and that's what makes you one of the coolest people in the room.
I hesitate to recommend an aesthetic to you because you would find that kind of... inauthentic. No offense to anyone else but that just feels like trying too hard to you. You wear whatever you want and there may be no predictable pattern. Also, you absolutely HATE looking like anyone else (which is why it may be a little frustrating if/when others copy you). So, if you do adopt an aesthetic, it will be your own uniquely invented one. You are most striking in blue or silver but Aquarius Risings have also been known to impressively rock neons or other quirky colors. Some of them may just give a James Dean-like plain tee and jeans look, as if they are too cool to care about clothes. But, they look best when wearing pieces that really stand out, whether it be futuristic, couture or casual glam
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PISCES RISING
Fashion tip: Go with the flow
Pisces Risings maximize their fashion sense by embracing the current mood. And this doesn't necessarily mean your mood, although it can. You have the ability to be a sponge for current trends, reflecting whatever is happening at the moment. Therefore, if you're into fashion, you can make a big impression because you are like an embodiment of what's in season. As a result, you might do a lot of shopping in order to keep up. Or you could go the easier route and simply embrace the flow of your fashion taste. This could make you invariably casual, even when the situation is more formal, or give you a different fashion sense every time you step outside.
Yes, Pisces Rising people often need some help in the fashion department, sometimes desperately. This is why it may be easier for you to wear what you know is "in". However, many with this placement are capable of carving out their own look. Often times, the "flower child" or New Age aesthetic works well, complete with actual flowers or crystals as accessories. You can find a way to turn your ethereal charm into a fashion statement. When in doubt, style yourself like an angel, an elf or a fairy. But, you also have what it takes to shape-shift into any style you want. To you, clothes are meant to be disappeared into. Any shade of purple, the color of the third eye and crown chakras, would look amazing on you. Also, you look really good in sandals, flip-flops or any open-toed shoes, which you will love wearing to the point that you might have to remind yourself that there's a time and place
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rafesmuse · 2 months
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jj maybank’s hot and confident baddie!gf hcs ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
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navigation . outfits . masterlist . rafe version .
ꨄ︎ this man is head over heels for you, kissing the ground you walk on type of energy. golden retriever & black cat couple. his friends frequently joke that you wear the pants in the relationship but he doesn’t care about anyone’s opinion— he feels like the luckiest man alive. “i’m her bitch? hell yeah i am.”
ꨄ︎ he feels so proud when you stick up for him, especially against the kooks. he’s ready to fight anyone that disrespects him but before he gets the chance, you’re already putting them in their place. he proudly watches you with the biggest smile on his face, letting you do your thing. “that’s my girl.”
ꨄ︎ doesn’t mind being submissive for you in the bedroom. calls you ‘mommy’ sometimes and lets you take control whenever you want to— it’s so fucking hot to him. he loves it when you praise him while you’re rocking your hips back and forth on his cock, whispering in his ear what a good boy he is.
ꨄ︎ he’s completely obsessed with you. always taking candid pictures of you and setting them as his lockscreen. his instagram page is filled with you as well, whether it’s the two of you together or just you alone. he’s literally your biggest fan and hypeman. “turn your head juuuust a bit to the left mamas, need to get that highlighter on camera.”
ꨄ︎ this man does anything for you. and with anything i mean anything. you ask for it and he will get it, no matter what. “oh, you think that puppy is cute? alright, ma’am. gimme three… maybe four working days and a puppy will be delivered right to your door step.” “j, that’s not wha-“ “sssh, just lemme make my girl happy.”
ꨄ︎ poor baby gets so sad when you get attention from men. he refuses to talk to you for an hour and will pout and sulk all day with his arms crossed. “he totally wanted to fuck you babe” “don’t be stupid, he was the goddamn waiter!” “so? doesn’t mean he didn’t wanna fuck you. did you see the way he looked at you when he served us those burgers?!”
ꨄ︎ you’re very protective of him and you make sure luke won’t ever lay a finger on jj again. jj spends most of his time at your house because he feels so at ease there, but if he needs to grab something from his house, you always go with him. if it escalates, you will have jj’s back before it gets out of hand. "listen, 'cause I'm only gonna say it once. touch him again and you're gonna be in big fucking trouble, got it?”
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luveline · 2 months
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hiiiiiiiii jade! <3
would you be willing to write a fic about girl dad!spencer x bombshell!reader? i can only imagine what an adorable riot their daughter would be!!!
tysm!
ty for requesting!! mom!reader
Spencer always thought you were too beautiful for him. Too funny, too brave, too confident. For years he feared he’d never be anyone you could love; he was the opposite of all your best parts, he talked too much about the wrong things, he went red whenever you so much as looked at him, and he couldn’t flirt back, not for anything. 
But it’s been a very long time since he felt that way. What good is a father who doesn’t believe in being yourself? Amanda deserved to be loved from the moment she drew breath, and he shouldn’t have been any different. 
Now, though, he’s wondering if he shouldn’t be so accepting of all her whims. “I am not wearing that, daddy,” she says. 
She’s just old enough to put together sentences but young enough that the individual words sound like building blocks, chunky and clumsy on her little mouth. Her lips are yours, her smiles and frowns one hundred percent you. (Though you argue with him often that the quizzical pout she does is all his.)
“What do you mean, angel?” he asks, bent over her sock drawer looking for a matching pair. 
“This is pink, and this is purple.” She points. 
“Yes, and you like pink and purple!” 
“I like pink… and I like purple,” she says. 
“But not together?” he asks knowingly. “You want them at different times, is that it?” 
She runs for his legs, hugging them tightly. “Thank you.” 
“You’re so much like your mommy it’s scary,” he whispers playfully, leaning down to pat her small back. “Okay, angel. I’ll find you a different dress to wear. Or maybe the dungarees!”
She lifts her chin up to smile at him. “Y’okay.” 
“Spencer, Amy!” you call, voice carrying from the kitchen. “Are you guys ready? We have to go soon and you haven’t even eaten!” 
Spencer used to sit at his desk daydreaming about you. He’d drink five cups of tea a day to get to walk past you for the kitchenette, hoping you’d be making a coffee, that you’d flirt with him over corporate rewarded donuts. Now you’re making him breakfast as he persuades your daughter into jelly shoes because she wants tall shoes like mommy. They compromise —Any will wear the wrong shoes if Spencer agrees to carry her to the kitchen table. 
“Sorry,” Spencer says as he pushes open the door into the kitchen. He's trying to be the best dad he can be all the time, but he doesn’t have a knack for the mornings like you do. “We won’t be late.” 
“That depends on how agreeable my lovely girl is feeling today.” You pick up the pink plastic plate you’ve filled with eggs, toast, and a mix of washed berries. “What do you think, Amy? Looks nummy?”
“Chocolate chip?” she asks, eyes already widening. 
“It’s breakfast, honey,” you say, scooping her out of Spencer’s arm to carry her to the table. “Chocolate chips are for dinner.” 
“Please?”
“If you promise to be really super duper good at Uncle Derek’s, then yes, you can have some chocolate chips,” you say, tucking her chair in, and kissing her chubby cheek. “You want me to make you milk or juice, mm?”
Spencer spots the two plates you’ve made up for you and him on the counter and quickly brings them to the table, sliding yours in front of you with a long-pronged fork, his hand on your shoulder to keep you in your seat. “I’ll get it,” he says, ducking down to kiss you on the side of the mouth. 
You turn to Amy. “See that, sweetheart? See how nice and kind your daddy is to me? He’s soooo nice. This is why we love him so much, and we appreciate him so much.” 
Amy nods emphatically, blueberries tumbling off of her plastic fork. “So much,” she echoes, her voice like melting sugar. 
He has a weird moment by the fridge where he has to grip the handle. “You know I used to dream about making you a cup of coffee in the mornings?” he asks. 
“Spencer, come over here and kiss me again, please,” you say, sympathetic and fond.
“Me too!” Amy says through fruit. “Me first.” 
“Oh, gosh, this is one of the hardest decisions of my life,” he says, sweeping in to dot your cheeks with kisses, hers then yours, three apiece.
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hotchscvm · 9 months
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leaked nudes — two
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pt. 1
pairings: aaron hotchner x reader
summary: you just wanted penelope’s feedback on your nudes. its hard for her to do so when you send them to your boss instead.
word count: 2k (another short one)
warnings: the word panties, stealing of shirts, reader checking out aaron’s ass, a mention of leonado dicaprio, mentions of suicidal thoughts
The next few days for him is torture.
Every time he looks at you, or even in your general vicinity, he’s reminded of the images he can never forget. Not that he’s been able to stop thinking about them, in the shower, in his bed, in his office, in the field—it was consuming him and he didn’t mind.
Aaron had resorted to wearing his darker suits, hoping they’d conceal his raging boner (an instance that only happened around you or when he thinks of you or when anyone even speaks your name). Unfortunately for exhausted cock, you noticed the change and complimented him on it, leaving him to lock himself in his hotel room and rub out a quick one.
After another unsuccessful day, Aaron sends the team back to the hotel, following them a few minutes afterward. He groans inwardly as he sees you coming out of the bathroom, knowing well enough he’d have to drive you to the hotel as the team had taken two of the SUVs back. He didn’t think he could stand another second alone with you without wanting to pin you against the wall and fuck you until the whole city knew his name.
You smiled at him as he opened the door for you, and he thinks he may develop heart palpitations with the number of times you make his heart stop—Aaron is certain one of these days his heart won’t continue and you may literally kill him with your smile.
Despite his cock stirring in his pants, the drive back to the hotel was lovely, though he can confidently say any time with you is divine. Though, he does rear-end the car in front of them when you unbutton your top, showing a white tank top under. Even worse when the seat belt tightens around you when he steps on the brake hard, causing it to accentuate your breasts, stuffed between them. He thinks he’s finally gone insane, being jealous over a seatbelt.
He opens the door for you once again, getting out of the car and the doors to the hotel. Aaron wonders if you can hear his heart beating wildly out of his chest when you link your arm through his, leaning slightly against him as you walk to the elevators.
Once you get to your room, you sigh loudly, taking off your tank top and throwing it on the unmade bed. You were feeling the effects of being unable to solve the case and being in Kansas City was like being stuck in an elevator running out of air.
After taking a shower, you realize your go bag was running out of clothes as you’ve been here for nearly a week. You were too tired to do laundry in the hotel’s laundry room and you knew Spencer was sleeping by now so you quickly wrapped a towel around your body and walked next door to Aaron’s room.
Knocking, you secured the towel around you, chuckling at the thought of flashing your boss. When he opens the door, he’s met with the sight of you in just the towel, nearly slamming the door close at the thought.
Smiling sheepishly at him, you said. “Hey, can I borrow another shirt? I don’t really want to wear another dirty one and I haven’t done laundry yet.”
It takes him a few seconds to answer, his eyes never leaving your face. Aaron nods, opening his door further. “Um, yeah, of course. Let me just see what I have.”
You step a foot inside his room as he gets a shirt from his duffel bag, checking out his ass as he had taken his blazer off, your view now unconstructed. You wanted nothing more than to have his belt wrapped around your hands instead of his pants.
Aaron gets a shirt from his bag, handing it to you. It’s blue and the material is rather thin from its usage. “Is this alright?”
“Yeah, thanks again, Hotch.” you flash him a grin, walking out of the room. “I promise not to steal this one like the others.”
He chuckles, waving it off. “You can steal as many of my shirts as you want.”
You laugh, opening your door. Truthfully, you liked his shirts better than any of yours. Most of them were faded but they still smelled like him and you often slept in one of them after stealing the first one. You preferred them to the clothing you’ve stolen from Spencer or Derek, though Emily’s hoodie was a game changer.
Thankfully, you didn't have to share rooms so you got dressed in Aaron’s large t-shirt and put on a pair of pink panties. Like the rest, the hem of the shirt fell down just below your ass, leaving you mostly covered.
Your phone buzzes as you get into bed, Penelope’s message causing you to chuckle.
Pen
I’ve been waiting not-so-patiently for these sexy pics.
Before joining the BAU, you had regularly sent nudes to the men on your roster, wanting nothing more than fun and compliments to boost your confidence. During a girl’s night, and after four shots of vodka, you admitted to Penelope you liked getting feedback on the pictures you took and in both your drunk stage, she had agreed to be one of your critics.
And while you slowly decreased your roster, Penelope was always the first person you sent them to, and she’d give you feedback based on how the picture was taken and what you were wearing. Multiple times she had asked where you’d gotten your lingerie.
So it wasn’t uncommon for you to send her nudes before you sent them to anyone. Not that you had anyone in mind to send this particular set of pictures to, but it was nice to get compliments from a friend after a long day. She was like your agent if you were famous, steering you in the right way.
Texting her you’d send them in a few minutes, you got ready to take several photos. Some included the bathroom mirror, some included you in Aaron’s shirt and two showed you completely naked. Inappropriate use of your boss’ t-shirt made the pictures hotter to you, though no one but you would know. You giggled at the thought of Aaron seeing you use his shirts in your nudes—that would be mortifying.
As if he could read your mind, your phone buzzed again, Aaron’s name popping up in the text notification. Clicking on the message, you saw he wanted to see pictures you had taken from the coroner of the most recent victim.
You’re about to send them to him when Penelope’s text pops up on the top of your screen, reminding you once again to send them. Grinning, you click on your naked images and send them before responding back to Aaron’s message about the dead body. As you click send, you put your phone on the bedside table and pick up the tv remote, putting on whatever the first show you came across.
Normally, Penelope would take about a minute to “study” the photos you’ve sent her but just as you turned the tv on, your phone buzzed, her text lighting up the screen. Frowning, you unlock your phone, confused by her text.
Pen
Ewww, why’d you send me the vic’s dead body???
Heart pounding, you tap on your messages with the blonde, heart dropping when you realize you sent her the pictures from the coroners instead of the promised nudes. You don’t bother to apologize to her when you see you’ve sent Aaron Hotchner six pictures.
And if you didn’t send Penelope your nudes …
Hands shaking you clicked on Aaron’s name, throwing your phone across the room after seeing a photo of your bare cunt in the message you sent him. It hits the wall, denting it slightly as you stare in its general direction, absolutely mortified.
What the actual fuck.
You rush towards your fallen phone, calling Penelope, face red and hands shaking. “Shit, shit, shit. Answer the phone.”
“Hey, when I mean send pictures–”
“I accidentally sent my nudes to Hotch.” you blurt out, plopping back on your bed.
“WHAT?”
Groaning, you banged your head on the mattress, wanting nothing more than to switch places with the corpse you took a picture of. “I meant to send them to you but I guess I switched you up by mistake—I don’t know, I’m really tired and I sent our boss pictures of my tits and pussy, Penelope!”
Silence meets your confession, and you only hear her breathing for a few seconds. “It’s … I don’t … What … I mean, it's not as bad as you’re thinking. Has he seen them yet?”
“How would I know?” you hissed. Pacing back and forth in your room, you bit your lip, worried. “Oh, my God. He’s so going to fire me, or worse: he’s going to want to talk to me about it instead of just ignoring it. OH, MY FUCK.”
Penelope chuckled quietly. “To be fair, they’re probably good pictures.”
“PENELOPE GARCIA.” you whisper-shouted, fidgeting with the hem of your—Aaron’s—shirt. Oh, how you wanted to crumble on your knees and die. “This isn’t like I accidentally sent them to Spence or Derek, I sent them to Aaron Hotchner. It’s like the worst-case scenario. I’d rather send my pussy to Rossi than Hotch.”
“Really? You’d rather send them to Rossi?” she questioned, amused and almost as mortified at the situation, though for different reasons.
“I’d rather send nudes to Rossi than Derek,” you confessed, running a hand through your hair. “At least with Rossi we can laugh it off but Derek would probably tease me about it until I do something more embarrassing. Oh, God, I’m so going to get fired. I might as well shoot my brains out before he tells me to come to his room to talk.”
“Or … you could go to his room and … you know,” Penelope replied, her tone flirty.
“Leonardo Dicaprio would date a woman over twenty-five years old before that happens, Pen.” you groaned, looking longly at the gun on your bedside table—not that you would actually consider it but, oh to be dead. “I’m actually going to die of embarrassment.”
Before she can reply, someone knocks on your door and you have a suspicion about who it is. You hurriedly say goodbye to the tech analysis, heart heavy as you walk to the door. You think about breaking the hotel window and jumping off from the fourth story but he knocks again, leaving you no choice but to open the door.
Aaron Hotchner stands on the other side, eyes crazed and shirt unbuttoned. You open your mouth to apologize, to make up an excuse, to do some damage control but it seems as if he has other ideas.
He takes a step forward, hands encasing your face as he kisses you. You freeze in shock, and he takes the opportunity to back you against the wall, a hand tilting your jaw and the other tangling in your hair. He bit your lip and you squeal quietly in surprise, his tongue slipping between your lips.
After a few seconds of trying to wrap your head around your boss kissing you, you kiss him back, closing your eyes as you enjoy his lips on yours. His hands drift down your back, squeezing your ass briefly before reaching the hem of your–his–shirt, pulling it up and exposing the pink panties you wore.
He pulls away, both of you breathing hard. Aaron glances down, smirking at the color of your thong before looking back at you, taking a step away and reluctantly taking his hands off of you. You don’t realize you’re whimpering, objecting.
“Do you want this?” he asks, eyes piercing and panting. He still wore his suit, but his shirt was half unbuttoned. You could see his chest peeking from them.
You nodded, taking a step closer to him, bringing you to his touch. “Yes.”
Aaron’s hands are immediately on you again, lips on yours as he whispered. “Good. Tonight, you’ll be filming my cock fucking your needy cunt instead of your fingers.”
a/n: i wanted to write smut but i gotta save my smut juices (ew) for bad ideas 2. also thank u to @callm3c0nfus3d and @gublersgibson for convincing me to do pt 2 :))))
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teaboot · 2 months
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Feels weird leaving an ask, like I’m walking up to a sage on a mountain and asking advice but that sage is likely just some guy in his pj’s eating cheese. Anyway any advice for how to be okay with being perceived? It’s hard to not feel like everything I do whilst in someone eyeline is embarrassing
I'm actually eating Pierogi in the bathtub right now so this is perfect
Okay first off, currently working my way out of the wet paper bag that is Social Anxiety that once had me agoraphobic and melting down on my way to buy groceries, just so you know what you're working with
Care about how you dress, but not in like, a fashion way. Just a "I like how I feel in this shirt" sort of way. And not so much, "I look good in these pants so I will wear them to be perceived Correctly", as, "I feel great in these house slippers and when I feel good I'm confident and when I'm confident I give less of a shit what the haters might think". Wear what feels good. Cut your hair and do your face and nails whatever way feels good. Appearance is secondary to vibes.
Lean into the funny. I waited 10 minutes in line for a coffee order that had already been set out for me this morning, and when the barista noticed, we both had a good laugh. Five years ago that would have killed me. Now I'm glad these poor workers will have a funny story over their bland ass shift. When I was in retail that would have been adorable and hilarious! And so, my goofemup is a gift. I am full of blessings
Get louder and watch as nothing bad happens. Take up more space and watch as nobody yells at you. Wear brighter or skimpier or janglier outfits and bask I the glory that is "Nobody gives a shit except the nice strangers who give me compliments". Marvel at how far you can push the envelope before anyone so much as comments on it. This will free you.
Say yes to terrifying opportunities to be Seen. Karaoke, dance, improv. And if you can't do it sincerely, embody a caricature of yourself. It's terrifying and it sucks eternally and forever and ever and ever like hellfire until suddenly it doesn't. Then have fun.
Be honest. Not unkind, but blunt if you need to. "I'm having a bad time". "This kinda sucks for me". "I know you hate this song but you can deal with these last 30 seconds because I need it to live". Mostly people will think it's a joke but respect it anyway. God bless
Please keep in mind that I am flying by the seat of my pants here and this is just stuff that's worked for me. I am still a nervous disaster crying into the void. Good luck space cowboy
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rafeandonlyrafe · 6 months
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blowing smoke
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words: 1.9k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, fingering, unprotected p in v sex (i think ive written like one fic where theyve used protection i am ashamed), riding, smoking cigs, shotgunning smoke, semi public sex, mentions of drinking
fully inspired by this post bc hnnnnng.
taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy
“come here, sweetheart.” rafe says, his gruff voice calling out to you over the noise of the party going on in the background. you place your hand in his outstretched one, completely engulfing it as he tugs you closer, onto his lap.
rafe bounces you once on his lap, making you smile and lean into him, not shying away from the physical contact.
“shouldn’t we be down with the rest of the party?” you ask, not that you actually want to leave the secluded balcony to rejoin the group, you much prefer having rafes undivided attention.
“do you want to go back to the party?” rafe asks, fingers pulling the thin strap of your dress off your shoulder.
you smile and tilt your chin down, rafe knows the answer. you always prefer being alone with him. 
“why don’t you ride me and then we can go back to the party?” rafe questions, making you look around the space.
“i don’t know, someone could walk up at any time…” 
rafe lets out a laugh, making you pout. he runs his thumb over your cheek, “baby, you think anyone would come up here without my permission?”
while the nerves still build in your stomach with the thought of someone easily being able to come up the stairs and seeing what’s happening on the second story balcony, you can’t resist rafe, which he certainly knows as you readjust on his lap so you’re straddling him.
you pull your dress up over your hips, and it’s tight enough that it stays in place. rafe smiles seeing what underwear you’re wearing, tiny panties with the letter r on the front that he got you for valentines day.
“my favorite.” rafe smiles, pulling on the strap and then letting it sna back into your hip.
you let out a gasp at the brief moment of pain, leaning forward and pressing your lips against your boyfriends, tasting the slight taste of alcohol on his breath. rafe easily dominates the kiss, his hand cupping your jaw as he controls you.
you moan against his mouth, knowing that no one will be able to hear you over the music pumping out of the speakers on the patio beneath you.
you move closer to rafe, pressing your chest together so you can grind your core against him, feeling him swell with your movements. you feel a rush of confidence with how quickly you can get him hard, taking rafes lower lip in between your teeth and giving it a slight tug.
rafe lets you have the moment of dominance, only to reach down and press his finger over your pussy, rubbing it through the thin underwear. “oh fuck.” you moan after releasing his lip, placing your hands on his thighs and leaning backwards, giving him better access to your clit, which he rubs mercilessly.
“all shy a few minutes ago, and now you’re leaking for my cock.” rafe laughs, not caring that you’ve soaked through your underwear and are leaving spots on his pants.
you pout, but it’s quickly wiped off your face when rafe tugs your underwear to the side, looking up at you with a smirk, “i would rip these off of you if they weren’t a gift.” you roll your eyes with a smile, knowing rafe has a proclivity for getting you out of your clothes by the quickest means possible, even if it means you regularly have to buy new underwear.
you almost lose your grip on rafes leg, thankful for the rough material of his jeans catching you, as he plunges a finger into your heat, looking at your pussy with a face of determination as he fingers you quickly, not deciding to go slow today.
you sit up straight, eyes going to the railing to make sure no one is able to see you, before leaning forward and cupping rafes face in your hands, letting your lips guide over each others in a half-kiss as you continue to moan.
rafe gets tired of just fucking you with his finger, his cock is almost uncomfortable from how hard he is, pressing against his zipper. he quickly inserts a second finger, turning his hand so his thumb can rub over your clit at the same time.
he doesn’t last more than a few thrust before the need to have you gets too great, pulling his fingers out suddenly, making you whine at the loss. you get to work quickly on his jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them as rafe takes his fingers into his mouth, licking all of your wetness off, tasting sweet on his tongue. 
“gonna ride daddy?” rafe asks, referring to himself as he lifts his hips, letting you tug his jeans and boxers down just enough to get his cock out.
“of course, daddy.” you bat your eyelashes at him, giving him a quick few strokes, even though he’s so hard he doesn’t need it, his tip a pretty pink color that makes you want to wrap your lips around it, but you know he’s not going to be able to get you off his dick if you suck him off, and you really do want to ride him.
you position yourself over top his cock, having to lift up onto your knees to line his cock up with your pussy. you close your eyes and take a deep breath, determined to take all of him quickly as you lower yourself onto his cock.
rafe watches you in fascination, always in awe of how you’re so willing and able to please him. you only pause for a second when you’re fully seated on his cock, before you begin to bounce, starting with small movements as you build up, placing your hands on his chest for stability.
“god, my perfect little bunny.” rafe smiles, tugging at the front of your dress until the top falls under your boobs, letting them spill free, moving along with you with every shift of your hips.
“feels so good.” you whine when rafe cups your tits, smirking as his big hands cover your entire chest. you are determined to show him how good you feel, moving faster even as you cunt cries out from the harshness of your movements.
“so good for daddy.” rafe compliments you, surprised how quickly you’ve completely forgotten that there’s just shy of 100 people only a floor below you.
“mhm, good just for you.” you say, moving your hands to his shoulders as you shift backwards slightly.
you roll your hips along to the song playing, watching as rafe reaches over to the table next to him, grabbing a pack of cigarettes and his customized lighter, filled with pictures of you on it. it’s the only one that he uses ever since you got it for him, even refusing to light up other peoples cigs or joints when they ask him to. 
rafe pulls a cigarette out of the pack and places it between his lips as you continue your movements. he brings his lighter up to his mouth, cupping his other hand to protect the flame from the light wind as he lights his cig.
you slow your moves in time with his deep inhale, rafes eyes sliding shut as he breathes in the smoke, only for you to speed up the second he quirks his lips to the side and blows it out.
“god, i’m in fucking heaven.” rafe pulls the cigarette out of his mouth with one hand, bringing his free hand to grip your hip and help you slightly with your movements.
you giggle, leaning forward and accepting the end of the cigarette rafe puts in your mouth, also taking a breath, admittedly not as deep as your breathing fast from riding him. you tip your head back and blow the smoke out into the air before refocusing.
“damn, riding me so good baby.” rafe gives your ass a quick slap before gripping your plump bum, still helping you move all while feeling you up.
he sticks the cigarette between his lips, taking another draw from it before he pulls it out, not caring to turn away from the sight in front of him as he blows the smoke over your body, making you let out a moan.
“fuck, dirty girl.” rafe delivers another spanking.
you cry out, knowing he’s going to leave a red mark on your ass. you bring one hand away from the iron grip you have on rafes shoulders to rub at your clit.
“let me do that for you.” rafe slaps your hand away, being careful not to hit you with the lit end of the cigarette, wanting to get his fingers back on your slickness.
you smile, knowing rafe likes it when he’s the one who makes you cum. he sticks the cigarette back between in the corner of his mouth, showing off how familiar he is with the action as he takes a puff and blows it out without using his hands.
you know you’re going to smell like smoke later as he brings his fingers to your clit, circling on the outside before flicking it as you clench your cunt around him every time you pull up before letting loose and slamming back down.
rafe can’t speak to warn you that he’s close for risk of his cigarette falling out of his mouth, but you can tell just from the way his cock swells inside of you that he’s not going to last much longer.
“faster, rafe.” you place a hand over the back of his as his fingers speed up, toying with your bud the perfect amount as you let out a loud moan, not caring even if someone did walk up the stairs.
your orgasm overtakes your body, unable to keep moving as you slump forward, rafes fingers slowing as you let your head fall onto his shoulder, trying to breathe as he suddenly pulls his hand away from your clit, gripping onto your hips with both hands and bouncing you once, twice, and then a third time on his cock before he’s cumming, flooding your insides.
“fuck.” rafe groans, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth, keeping one hand on your ass to make sure you don’t get up yet, wanting to enjoy the feeling of your fluttering walls around him for longer.
you turn your head to the side, giving his neck a kiss and nuzzling your nose against his skin as you both breathe heavily, coming down for your collective high.
you sit up after a moment, realizing that you’re going to start leaking out as rafe softens.
“rafey-”
“yeah, alright.” he sighs, letting you pull off of him, his cock flopping down against his skin. you can’t bring yourself to stand up and actually take care of the cum, opting to pull your panties back in place and hope that they catch everything. 
you pull the top of your dress back up over your dress, adjusting your boobs and regretting your decision to go braless as your nipples poke through the material.
you watch as rafe tucks himself back into his pants, lifting off his lap slightly so he can redo his jeans.
“gimme.” you try to take the cigarette out of rafes hand, but he stops you, taking a deep drag for himself before dropping the almost finished cig onto the ashtray, taking your face in his hands and bringing you close.
your mouth slots open, and he blows the smoke into your mouth as you inhale it. you hold it for a moment before exhaling, letting the smoke rise around you.
rafe smiles at your actions, pressing your lips together in a long kiss, knowing you’re not going back down to the party any time soon.
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targaryenluvs · 3 months
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pairings: luke castellan x hades!daughter!reader
summary: as much as you loved luke, you were beginning to believe he’d rather keep you a secret than love you in the open.
warnings: angst babyyy, arguments, jealousy, selfishness, insecurity, manipulation, violence, fights, makeups, makeouts, tension
a/n: based on this request - you guys i’m currently reading the books bc i’ve never and i only grew up on the movies lol i will be more accurate soon i hope! i’m not the best an angst bare with me. this can also fit photograph!! hope you liked it anon!!!
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your relationship with luke was amazing.
you’d never dated anyone before, but you weren’t sure how you could ever move on from him. he was nothing short of a gentleman as well as your bestfriend. he confided in you, as you did him, you held eachother and loved eachother. the only problem was that it wasn’t open. being two of the most well-known people at the camp, luke expressed his desire to you to have something to himself, you, to himself.
and at first you didn’t mind.
you loved sneaking away with him late at night, longing stares from across the room, and stolen moments whenever available. no one found out, and he wanted to keep it that way.
of course there were moments where the two of you messed up. accidentally wearing his shirt, the longer length drawing some stares but you’d brush them off, no one exactly was going to call out the daughter of hades. where your hair didn’t exactly cover all of the marks he’d left the night before, his hands were in your hair, his clothes were in your sheets.
and the two of you were always able to keep it hidden.
until you didn’t want to anymore.
you wanted to love him in the open, show everyone just how much you loved luke castellan. you’d bring it up to him when you spent time together, the idea of letting everyone know was foreign and unnecessary in his eyes, but it was all you wanted. just to be able to show how happy you are with him and so neither of you will get asked out anymore. but his kisses on your neck and trailing hands seemed to draw you away from the thought.
you kept telling yourself you were fine with it.
but a girl can only hold on so long, you were done with it, with him. it broke your heart, even thinking of not being with him anymore but you’d rather be free and sad then unknown and happy. the two of you were sat together, stargazing in the forest, your own hide out, deep in the woods, a clearing for the two of you.
he seemed so happy, with you. the whole night he chatted away with you, holding your hand, kissing you, hugging you. you loved him so much, he was your other half, your luke. you felt as if you’d implode. your heart clenched at the idea of being away from him. you knew you couldn’t live like this, “luke?” he turned your way, still smiling, “what’s up babe?” his smile dropped at the sight of your teary eyes and trembling lips, “hey, hey what’s wrong?”
you swallowed, “i— i can’t do this anymore, i can’t be a secret. i hate having your nights and being ignored in your mornings, i hate looking at all the girls fawn over you, knowing your mine. i hate not being able to tell you how i feel during the day, not being able to walk up to you and hug or kiss you. i hate it, and i hate myself for hating it. i just want to be with you.” luke’s eyes were glistening, his hand resting on your cheek, “don’t do this, please. you agreed to this, to our relationship. please don’t ask for more, isn’t this enough? am i not enough?”
he held your hand, pressing it to his chest. you could feel his heartbeat, the rhythm you listened to most nights, lulling you to sleep. you could see the gorgeous face you adored, and listened to the heavy breathing of the man you loved. your smile ignited a flicker of hope in his heart, “no, it’s not. i don’t want to be a secret. i want to be able to tell everyone how much you mean to me, i want you to tell everyone what i mean to you. to be able to talk about our future and our life, plan out the biggest of adventures and our wildest dreams. i can’t do that with someone who’d rather love me in the dark of night than the light of day.”
and with that, luke’s heart was beating faster, a tear falling down and his relationship with you in pieces. all he could do was watch you walk away, a part of him with you. he wanted to get up and chase you, tell you how much he truly loved you, but he sat and stared.
the next few weeks were miserable for both of you. sleepless nights, missing the other, no one to stare at anymore, no one to pass love notes to, no one.
luke had the attention of the entire camp, everyone but the person he wanted.
you had the love of everyone but him.
you tried your best to hide it, the pain in your chest, the tears you’d rid your body of at night, the bracelets and necklaces you hid at the bottom of your jewellery box. trying to eradicate any memory of luke castellan from your eye and life.
whereas luke found himself seeking you out. the horrible drawing youd made of him, the beaded bracelet with your nickname for him on it, the chapstick you left behind and your favourite shirt of his. it still smelled like your own perfume. his favourite photograph of the two of you, a polaroid, you kissing his cheek, with both of your matching necklaces on display.
luke seemed fine to everyone else, of course he did. why would he be any different? whereas you were less chatty, energy drained, and happiness gone. no one seemed to ask, too scared of the reply.
three months, without him.
it still hurt, seeing him. but day after day, it tended to get easier to get up. your friends were your saviours, and strength. they could infer the reason behind your sadness, but they didn’t push you. everyday became a routine, get up, get ready, eat, get through the day and relax at night. you thought you were doing better, until you saw him. happy and uncaring.
and all of a sudden you were back where you started. you were so tired of feeling unwanted, always getting frustrated when you cried, you were crying over someone who couldn’t care less.
so when one of the hermes boys approached you with a smile and a drink offering at a secret party in the woods, you were more than willing to take it. he was nice, and funny, and into you. whilst you laughed away with him, occasionally drinking and eating, luke was across the campfire from you, grip tightening on his cup. all the voices around him were muffled, he couldn’t care about their conversations when the girl he loved was right there.
it was one thing for someone to approach you but from his own cabin? it felt as if the guy was trying to piss him off, and he couldn’t stand for that. luke was trying his hardest to hold himself back, but then the guys hand was on your waist and the cup in his hand was crushed within an inch of its life.
suddenly, luke appeared out of nowhere, his eyes burning with jealousy. unable to control his emotions, he confronted the guy. “what the hell do you think you’re doing?” luke sneered as the boy, derek, looked at him confused, “what’re you talking about luke?” luke scoffed, his patience was wearing thin, and the stupid look on derek’s face looked so punchable, so that’s what he did.
the situation escalated quickly, and before you knew it, a full-blown fight broke out between luke and the derek. as chaos erupted around you, you began to realize the depth of luke's feelings. you knew him better than anyone around, you saw the pain in his eyes, hiding behind the rage. luke wasn’t overtly violent in his daily life, let alone starting a fight, all for you.
derek was holding on for sure, a few hits in but again, no one was really a match for luke. the crowd around you had grown, chanting and cheering mixed in with laughter. “luke! luke let him go.” you shouted at him, but it wasn’t really any use, you implored his cabin mates to pull him away, and after a few seconds of contemplating they agreed. derek scrambled away, running with a few friends, whether to chiron or the cabins, as long as it wasn’t near you, luke was happy.
you stormed over to luke, clutching him by his shirt, “let’s. talk.” a plethora of ‘ooh’s’ rung out as luke shrugged off all the hands holding him back.
you’d found a quiet spot to talk, and with tears streaming down your faces, you talked. for the first time in three months, you held a conversation. it obviously wasn’t breezy, yelling and shouting, shoves from you, a slap or two. “you ignore me for three months, and then you beat the shit out of a guy just because he talked to me? what the hell is wrong with you? you were completely fine after we broke up, why did you do that?”
luke took a step closer, “you thought i was fine? i was anything but, every single night, all i wanted was you. you drive me insane, do you get that? not having you, not being able to hold you, to be with you.” his hand held your waist tightly, pulling you into him.
you were looking up at him, nose to nose, heaving chests and an unbelievable amount of tension in the air. “to kiss you.” he whispered, before kissing your neck. your hand tangled itself in his curls as his hand tightened around your waist, the other holding the back of your neck. the two of you ended up pushed against a tree, roaming hands and messy kisses.
“does this mean you’ll take me back?” luke whispered, forehead against yours, “are you willing to go public?”
he smiled, “for you? anything.”
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