partycityharleyquinn

[partycityharleyquinn]

[partycityharleyquinn]

Snack Foods (Good Omens)

Aziraphale x Crowley x GN!Reader / requests are: open and encouraged

Summary: You're originally from the US and are feeling homesick. Your partners somehow just always know what to do to make you feel better.

Good Omens tag list: @coffee-and-red-lipstick @quickslvxrr @clarina04 @motionlessindoubt (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

Moving to the UK had not been something you’d seen in your future when you were young. It was one of those things that just sort of happened. One week you were working minimum wage and working towards a degree, and the next week you were studying abroad. A month after that you were securing a job in your chosen field and you just… never looked back, really. 

Your family was sad but supportive, thankfully. They understood how much your career meant to you and what these opportunities meant for you. They rang as often as they could and visited once or twice a year, which was great, but you still missed them, of course. 

Your main source of solace when you really missed home was the Bookshop. You’d found it by accident one day after going to the coffee shop across the road. You’d met some friends there who had recommended the place. It was indeed now your favourite joint for a pick-me-up latte. There was nothing quite like a hazelnut coffee frappe, was there? 

But you digress. You’d gone to the coffee place to meet your friends and spied the vintage-looking bookstore while you’d been there. After you’d finished with your friends you’d popped over to see what they had to offer. 

Being so far from home had been particular torture that day and you’d been hoping to pick something up to distract you from your misery and transport you elsewhere. At least for a little while. Browsing rows of books, parchments, scrolls and everything else under the sun was where you’d first met Aziraphale. 

A stout, comforting man (or you’d thought he was a man, anyway- at first) who had seemed to be trying to herd you out of the store before you bought something, which you had thought very odd for someone paying rent in the middle of London for a multiple storied building. But that was neither here nor there.

It had been an accident, really. You hadn’t meant to, but as soon as Mr. Fell had mentioned your accent and asked where you were from in an effort to divert your attention to his precious books, you had burst into tears. The poor man had looked so startled as you chastised yourself internally and wiped away the tears refusing to stop leaking from your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you said, absolutely horrified. 

“Oh, dear,” was his response. “It’s quite alright- though, I must ask- why are you crying?” 

And so your friendship had begun. With a dash of tears and a sprinkle of awkwardness. After that, you’d popped in to the Bookshop whenever you were lonely or missing home to catch up with Mr. Fell. He’d set you up with a recommendation, a comfy chair and a cup of hot chocolate and leave you for hours to engross yourself in other universes. 

You’d met Crowley shortly after you started going to the store regularly. It didn’t take very long for the two of you to become thick as thieves. You had a similar sense of humour and both of you found more joy than you should have in the misfortune of others. Not anything serious, of course but neither of you were able to not giggle when you saw the ass end of someone’s shopping bag just fall right out. 

Anyway, all this was to say was that the two of them had fast become your best friends, confidants and then, one day after that, your partners. And as partners, they were very finely attuned to when you were not having a great day. Today was one of those days. 

Crowley had ducked out for a bit before you’d gotten to the shop, and Aziraphale was pulling out all the stops to help you feel better. A new book, hot chocolate, a funny dance, even. Nothing was working. Well, that wasn’t strictly true. The dance and the following cuddles helped, but not by a whole lot. 

Your Angel was doing his absolute best for you, and you were currently curled up in his lap with his hand stroking through your hair. You were sniffling sadly. You couldn’t even call back home with the time zone differences. 

“Don’t look at those, my dear. You know they will only suffice to sadden you further.” 

You were flicking through old photos, and as soon as the words left his mouth you turned the phone off with one more longing look. He was right, as usual. 

“There, see? Better already. Crowley will be back soon, I’m sure. Perhaps you and he can play that game that you both enjoy so much?” 

“Maybe,” you replied noncommittally. 

The game in question involved doing your best to come up with more and more ridiculous ways to spend eternity. It was quite an amusing game. Particularly when drunk. 

As if summoned by his name, Crowley wandered his way into the shop. He was toting a plastic bag which- judging by the bright colours within- meant it contained some sort of food. The Demon picked your legs up and sat down on the arm of the recliner, re-placing your legs back on his thighs when he was settled. He gave them a soft, comforting pat. 

“Right. Can’t have you being sad, can we, Pet?” He supplied as a greeting. You blinked at him, nuzzling your head further into Aziraphale’s hand in your hair. 

“S’pose not,” you replied suspiciously. 

“It’s, erm, not much,” Crowley said, peeking into the bag before handing it over to you, averting eye contact awkwardly. “Might help, though.” 

Your brows drew down in confusion and you moved the handle out of the way to view what was inside. 

“Oh.” 

Crowley repeated the statement, deflating somewhat. 

“I- this is- Crowley.” 

Aziraphale was beaming at you, scratching at your scalp. The motion gave you the shivers which in turn made Aziraphale chuckle. 

“This is so nice? I can’t- oh my God- Cheetos!” 

“Let’s not bring her into it, shall we? I don’t believe she had anything to do with it, eh?” 

You shot the Demon an apologetic look and started ripping items out of the bag. Mike n Ikes, Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, Reese's cups, and- was that a root beer? A real, precious root beer? Was this Heaven? 

This was possibly one of the kindest things someone had done for you since moving. ‘Demon,’ your ass.

“This is perfect, thank you so much,” you say tearfully while ripping open the bag of Cheetos and shoving one in your mouth. “Where did you get these from?” 

Crowley squeezed your foot comfortingly. You wiggled your socked toes in his hand.

“Nipped over to the store in Edinburgh. Our Angel here heard they had specialty foods.” 

You pecked Aziraphale on the cheek, giving him an absolutely beaming smile which he reciprocated happily.

“Oh, it’s no problem, really. I’m happy to do anything for either of you. More than happy.” 

You picked up a Cheeto, offering it to the Angel who looked at its colour sceptically. You can tell he’s about to respectfully pass on the snack before he sees the expression on your face and he gives in, opening his mouth for you to feed it to him. He looks horrified as the taste sits on his tongue. 

“Oh,” he says, chewing faster to get it out of his mouth. “That’s just… that's lovely, dearest. Thank you.” You offer him another. “No thank you, one was quite enough. More for you, after all.” 

Crowley snickers and rejects the snack you offer him. He wasn’t big on food in general, but it would be rude not to at least offer. Crowley was more of a drinks man, anyway. 

Once you’d had your fill you gave each of them a big kiss on the forehead, thanking them profusely for the effort. It really was one of the sweetest things anyone had ever done for you.

And as it turned out- it actually worked. It didn’t ease the ache of missing your family, but it did alleviate a little of that homesickness. You made Crowley promise to take you to the store sometime (and regularly after that) and while you certainly didn’t see your family often enough, you realised that you’d created a new family here instead- in addition to the one back home, that was. 

As thanks, you promised to never make Aziraphale chow down on American snack food ever again. He was very much grateful. To thank Crowley, you washed the Bentley for him in skimpy clothes. It was safe to say he was a fan. 

You may miss your birth home, but you had a lot going on for you here too, and wasn’t that just as important in the end? You thought so.

[partycityharleyquinn]

Starved (Alec Hardy)

Alec Hardy x GN!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are: open and encouraged

Summary: Alec discovers you fantasise about his tongue. A lot.

CW: oral (reader receiving), no pronouns but reader does have a vagina, vaginal fingering, squirting, overstimulation

Broadchurch tag list: @clarina04 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

There was just something about the way that Alec spoke that enraptured you. The accent, the way his lips moved around the words. His tongue. God, Alec’s tongue. The amount of time you had spent fantasising about having Alec’s tongue buried inside you was, well, ridiculous. 

“Eh, love? You alright? Not sayin’ much.” 

You’re only pulled about halfway out of the trance when you reply- 

“Sorry- thinking about your tongue.” It only takes a further second for you to snap completely out of it and realise what you’ve just said. “Oh, shit.” 

Your cheeks go beet red and you slap a hand over your face in mild horror. Alec’s not usually a cocky bastard, but the way a smirk twists its way across his lips just drips with sin. Your breath hitches and Alec’s fingers reach out to caress up your thigh. Unconsciously, your leg twitches into his fingers. A silent plea for more. 

“What ‘bout it? Huh? Thinkin’ ‘bout my tongue?” 

You bite your lip as his grin turns darker. You nod, and his fingers trail up your thigh towards your sides. He moves closer. You can see the bulge growing in his trousers. It’s all you can do not to whimper- the memories of having him buried inside you to the hilt, fucking into you- oh this had to stop. But then again, you didn’t want it to. 

“Yeah,” you reply breathily. “God, I want your tongue on my clit.” 

Alec chuckles at your bold statement. Now that was unexpected of you.

“Spread your fuckin’ legs then, darlin’,” he replies with a nonchalant shrug. A moment later he’s beside you and pulling your chair away from the table. You let out a sound that’s halfway between a whimper and a yelp and spread your legs for him as he kicks your feet apart softly. 

Another moment and he’s between your legs, spreading your folds with his fingers and licking a flat stripe up your clit. You groan, sinking back in the chair and you feel the puff of air hit your core as he chuckles at your reaction. 

“Please, Alec?” 

Alec doesn’t make you beg. He wraps his lips around your clit, sucks it into his mouth and flicks the tip of his tongue back and forth over you mercilessly. His fingers reach around to grip at your ass and tug you closer to the edge of the chair. He eats you like a man starved, salivating at the taste of your pretty little cunt. 

“Oh, I could eat you for days,” he groans, breaking away to catch his breath. Your hips wiggle as the stimulation stops and as recompense, he pushes two fingers inside you, eyes entranced by the view of them inside you. Your cunt clenches around them and he laughs. “You like that, eh? Bet you do. Love having your pretty pussy stuffed like this.” 

Your head drops back against the chair and you spread your legs impossibly wider. Alec approves if the way he crooks his fingers just right for you is any idea. 

Another moment and his fingers are pulling out and his tongue is replacing them. Alec has to press himself as close to your flesh as possible to get his tongue as far as he can into your hole. You cry out, fingers digging into his scalp and holding him there. 

Alec flicks his tongue inside you and rubs the tip of his nose against your clit as he does so. You keen, thighs trembling with the effort of not closing around his head and popping his eardrums. 

One of his hands snakes around your thigh so his thumb can rub at your swollen clit. 

“Fuh-huh-uuck,” you moan, grinding your hips against his mouth and thumb. He feels so good, and there’s no way you’re not going to cum on his tongue in the next few seconds. “Fuck, Alec- shit- I’m- I’m close. God, please.” 

Alec laughs into your cunt as best he can with his tongue buried halfway into your core and he moves his thumb faster. You twitch and shake as the stimulation brings you closer and closer before-

“Oh, God- fucking fuck- fuck, Alec!” 

Your fingers yank against his hair, grinding yourself against his tongue as you ride out your high. Waves of pleasure roll over you while the continuing stimulation on your clit makes you shudder and twitch. 

He pulls his face away from your sopping cunt once he’s had his fill of your pussy and you grin tiredly at the blissful, wet mess that is his face. You can see your slick on his cheeks and chin. He wipes his mouth with the back of his spare hand. The sight of him panting, eyes black with lust does things to you. 

All of a sudden, his fingers are rubbing against your clit again hard and fast. You yelp, hips twisting to try and get away from the overstimulation. He tuts and refuses to relent. Your hips buck off the chair, fingers white-knuckling the edge of the table. 

And you cum again. But this time, you do the unthinkable and squirt. All over him. You’re shocked through the haze of pure pleasure coursing through your system, though it doesn’t stop you from making sounds a porn star wishes they could emulate. He’s grinning like a loon, rubbing at your clit like a man possessed until you have to basically all but kick him off you. 

The noise that escapes him sounds quite like disbelief, and while the main thing you can focus on is the pulsing of your overstimulated clit, you still manage a shaky “shut up.” 

“Never,” is his reply.

[partycityharleyquinn]

Show To Catch (Good Omens Drabble)

Aziraphale x (fem!presenting!)Crowley x GN!Reader / requests are: open and encouraged

Summary: Prompt: "Everything would be a lot easier if you fucking sat still."

Good Omens tag list: @coffee-and-red-lipstick @quickslvxrr @clarina04 @motionlessindoubt (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

“Everything would be a lot easier if you just fucking sat still.” 

Crowley huffs at you, her snake eyes narrowing in you. You’ve got a brush in your hand, carefully applying blush to her cheeks. She’s gorgeous standing before you in a slim-cut black dress with snake motifs winding their way around her body. She has a red faux fur shawl over her shoulders, and she looks absolutely one hundred percent fuckable. You were kind of jealous of yourself, to be honest. You can’t wait to finger fuck her to oblivion when you all get home.

 

Aziraphale chuckles as you force Crowley’s head into the position you want it in, exchanging your brush for a vibrant red lipstick. Crowley eyes the colour and gives you an arched brow. 

“What?” You asked innocently, applying the lipstick to her skin. You knew what the look was for. You both knew that particular colour drove Aziraphale mad with desire. He couldn’t help himself. Particularly when the lipstick stained your or his own skin. 

“Think you know what,” Crowley replies when you release her. She smacks her lips and you give her a tissue to remove the excess. “You know exactly what, don’t you? Oh, look at that expression. Guilty, Your Honour. Guilty.” 

You roll your eyes and pick up the mascara. Just one more little touch and she’d be perfect. Not that she wasn’t already, but you had to have an appreciation for your application of makeup. Your command over the products and the brushes. It was an art in and of itself. 

“Hold still, Crowley,” you half-hiss. She knows you don’t mean it venomously. She knows she’s hit the nail right on the head and that’s why you’re avoiding her words armed with mascara.

“Crowley, dear, be good,” Aziraphale says from his recliner. He’s ready to go, too. He’s dressed up a bit tonight, and the sight of him in his recliner perched with an old novel in one hand almost makes you laugh. You’d say the only thing missing was the monocle, but his frames had basically the same effect anyway. “We’ll be late if you don’t stop fidgeting,” Zira adds on.

Crowley huffs but leans forward for you anyway. You swipe the mascara over her eyelashes, watching raptly as they thicken and the volume gives her a whole new look before your eyes. 

“Oh, look at you,” you practically swoon. “You’re gorgeous. Zira, honey- look!” 

Aziraphale puts the book down. Peering over his lenses. For a moment he just blinks, and then his eyes take on a darker hue. His jaw opens and shuts a couple of times before he clears his throat, and says- 

“You look wonderful. Stunning, really. Quite possibly one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. You both are. You make quite the picture together.” 

“Alright, keep your pants on,” Crowley tuts, rolling her eyes. There is a real blush creeping up her neck, though you do her a favour and not mention it. She’d owe you for that later, and she knew it, too.

“Alright, come on you two,” you say, linking arms with them and giving them both a quick peck on the cheek. “We have a show to catch!” 

[partycityharleyquinn]

Almost Too Far Gone (Tenth Doctor)

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader / requests are: open and encouraged

Summary: It's when the Doctor starts messing with things he shouldn't that you realise that you're growing afraid of him. Is it time to slip away unnoticed?

CW: anxiety, crying, fear, Time Lord Victorious!Doctor, hurt- minimal comfort (but still some comfort), angst

Doctor Who tag list: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

Is there anything you can't do?

“Not anymore.” 

Those two words. Two innocuous, innocent words. As soon as they left the Doctor’s mouth, pure, cold dread washed over you. You felt fear unlike that which you’d ever felt before coursing through your system. You’d felt fear before, yes. You’d been taken hostage by aliens. Almost tortured by Daleks. Almost lost the Doctor and the Doctor had almost lost you, too. 

But this? Fear brought on by someone you trust- breaking that trust? Someone as powerful as the Doctor? No. You wanted to go home. Now. Quietly, as the Doctor was watching Captain Adelaide Brooke walk up the street and towards her house, you crept backwards back through the TARDIS doors. You’d set it for home and set the TARDIS to go back and find him after you’d left the doors and left him. 

God, leaving the Doctor. It was a thought you’d never entertained before the last few months. Since Donna, since Rose. He’d changed. He was becoming something new, something he shouldn’t be. If the Doctor from even one year ago could see himself now… he’d be horrified. 

Rushing towards the console, you swiped at your cheeks, pulling your hands back to see tears collected on your skin. You hadn’t even realised you were crying. You steeled yourself and hurriedly wiped the rest of the tears away before looking towards the console. 

“I- I don’t know if you can hear me, or… if you’re going to help me, but- but please- I need to go home.” 

The TARDIS was silent for a moment as if in contemplation. You’d spoken to her before when you were in the console room by yourself, but you’d never asked her for anything before. You were terrified she wouldn’t listen. You wanted to just slip away and leave the Doctor to do whatever he felt he needed to do. No goodbyes. You weren’t sure you could handle them. 

The TARDIS booted up, starting the process of taking off. You let out a sob. It’s a sob of relief and of terrible sadness. God, how are you supposed to do this? You can picture the Doctor outside, those sad eyes betraying his heartbreak as someone else leaves him too. 

“Home?” 

You shout, not having realised the Doctor was standing in the doorway. You didn’t turn to look at him. Your arms shook with the effort of not breaking down. You’d told him that he and the TARDIS were your home before all this. It was still true to this day. 

“I thought… I thought we were your home. You and me- travelling the stars.” You can hear the set of his jaw from where you stand. You slowly start to turn, tears streaming freely down your cheeks. “That not true anymore, eh?” 

“Of course it’s true,” you shout, pain ripping through your vocal cords. “I fucking love you, Doctor!” 

The Doctor narrows his eyes, shielding himself from the possibility of letting someone back in. Of letting you in. 

“Then why are you leaving?” 

You scoff angrily, wiping at the tears hard enough to leave marks. You chew on your lip for a moment, trying to bring yourself to say the words. 

“I’m scared of you.” 

There, you’d said them. You’d given life to those four words that had been haunting you the last few months. At first, you’d just thought your anxiety was on a higher alert than usual. It was not necessarily unusual to have flare-ups like this, but then it persisted, and it never seemed to go away. And one day the Doctor gave you this look- this charged, dangerous look and you knew with absolute clarity that that was what it was. You were afraid of what he could do. What he could let himself do. 

“You- what?” He looks almost angry for a second before it melts to confusion.

You cross your arms, wishing you had a bubble that you could hide in. 

“I’m scared of you. You’re changing. You’re changing timelines and saving people you shouldn’t. You’re changing things and you’re- you’re becoming a threat.” You sucked in a shaky breath, tears falling faster over your cheeks. “I want to be with you, but- this is not okay. I don’t know how to- to- to help you. You don’t want to be helped.” 

The Doctor was very quiet for a solid few moments, taking in the words you’d let forth like a slew of vomit. He nodded, stepping forward, looking at anything but you. 

“I see,” is all he replied with at first. “Well, if you want to go back then I won’t stop you.” 

Your lip quivers. 

“Is that all you have to say?” 

“What do you want me to say? We’re supposed to be friends- partners. And I come back inside to find you-” he breaks off, gesturing wildly with his hands as he looks for the words. “Sneaking off without so much as a goodbye, I mean- and you’re afraid of me? Afraid?!” 

You flinched as he came closer. He was so upset, and it only served to make you feel that much worse. 

“I saved you! I- I had- I have the power to save you!” The Doctor carded fingers through his hair erratically. You let out a quiet sob, shakes wracking your form. 

“I- oh fuck.” It’s the first time you think you’ve ever heard him swear. “Oh, what am I doing? What’s- what’s happened to me?” 

You’re quiet as he has this epiphany. You’re too worried to be hopeful that he might be seeing the light. Seeing how far gone he’s gotten. It takes him a moment, but then he’s looking up at you in horror. Not horror with you, but horror at himself. He knows. He’s finally realised the gravity of it all. 

“Oh, my- Darling, please- forgive me?” 

You bite on your lip, looking away. You know if he looks at you like that you’ll give him whatever he wants. 

“I have so much making up to do, please- let me- let me start with you. I understand, I promise. You were scared. You are scared. I’m going to be better. If you want to go, I’ll- I’ll take you home,” he steps forward, reaching for you. “But if you want to stay. I promise you, I will be better.” 

You force yourself to look at him. He looks desperate, reaching for you like if only he could just… touch you- everything would be okay. 

“I don’t know,” you whisper. “I want to, but-” 

“Say yes,” he replied softly. “If you want to, then say yes. Please.” 

You contemplate this before deciding that the sincerity in his eyes is enough to believe him. You nod, and he’s on you in seconds, wrapping you up in his arms and visibly melting with relief. You wrap your arms around his back, rubbing comforting circles onto the back of his coat as he begins to cry. 

“I’ll be better, I promise,” he whispers, burying his face in your neck. “I promise.”

[partycityharleyquinn]

Good Toys (Good Omens Drabble)

Fem!Presenting!Crowley x Fem!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: Based on the prompt: “I am going to fuck every last thought out of this pretty head.”

CW: use of vibrators, dirty talk, mummy kink (im Australian, don't come after my spelling of mummy haha), oral (sorta), manhandling

Good Omens tag list: @coffee-and-red-lipstick @quickslvxrr @clarina04 @motionlessindoubt (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

You’re shaking with the effort of holding yourself in position for her. Crowley has her mouth poised above your cunt, eyes glinting with mischief up at you. She’s got you holding your legs bent and apart for her. She’d said good toys did as they were told, and who were you to deny her? 

“Oh, look at that,” she whispers, licking a stripe up your clit. You jolt, thighs jerking with the strain. She just laughs. “I am going to fuck every last thought out of this pretty head.” 

You whimper, doing your damndest not to close your legs instinctually. You know that would just get you punished and all you really, really want is to cum. 

Crowley laughs again and presses a clitoral vibe against your bundle of nerves. You yelp, one knee sliding out from under your grip. You twist under her as Crowley tuts and moves up the bed to pin your legs apart with her own. She’s sitting up before you, red-painted nails trailing down the valley of your breasts and over your tummy. 

Her other hand doesn’t move except to turn the vibrator up, causing you to pant under her. Crowley pouts mockingly and turns the vibrator up a few more times. The intensity is almost too much and you know you’re not going to last long at all. 

“Aw, I thought we wanted to be good for me, Pet?” She pouts, cocking her head and playfully slapping one of your tits. You gasp, hips wriggling- though not as much as you’d like with the way she has you pinned beneath her so harshly. 

“I’m- I’m trying mummy-” 

Oh, and there it was. 

“Mummy, eh? Oh, sweetheart, you really are desperate, aren’t you?” 

Your eyes squeeze shut as Crowley turns the vibrator up to the max setting. 

“Cum for mummy right now, Pet. Be a good girl for me, mm?” 

And you do, hips bucking and keening off the bed as your orgasm rips through you. You cry out, fingers fisting at the bed sheets. Your chest rises and falls with the ragged breaths. Crowley turns the vibrator down but doesn’t turn it off, and through the praise and filthy comments- manages to make you cum again. 

“Fuck, there’s a good girl for Mummy. Yes darling, just like that.”

[partycityharleyquinn]

Interested (Alec Hardy Drabble)

Alec Hardy x GN!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: Alec's interested in receiving some attention from behind, if you know what I mean.

Tags: this is super short, no y/n, implied smut, groping, switch!Alec, dom!reader

Broadchurch tag list: @clarina04 @kaylinelizabeth4004 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

"You want to what?" Alec asks, shocked and mildly horrified.

"You heard me," you reply with a smirk. Alec swallows thickly, eyeing you up and down. He can't hide the way his dick twitches in his trousers though.

"I sure fuckin' did, yeah. Where's this come from?"

You shrug, drawing lines up his arm with your fingers. You kiss up the side of his neck and bite at his ear lobe.

"Tell me you don't want it," you whisper, other hand reaching down to squeeze him. He's getting hard fast and the way he swallows again makes you laugh wickedly. "Tell me you don't want my cock up your ass, Alec. I know you like being a good boy for me. How does that sound, hm?"

You give him another squeeze, rubbing at him. Your fingers trail towards the buttons on his trousers, fiddling with them.

"Think you can take me? You'd look so pretty on all fours for me, baby. What do you think?"

Alec risks a glance at you, and his eyes lock onto the way you're biting your lower lip. Pure hunger is plastered across your expression. He stumbles over his words for a moment.

"A-alright, if- we can try," he acquiesces, flushing prettily. You lick a hot stripe up his cheek and he shudders with pleasure.

"Good boy. Come on- into the bedroom with you, then."

[partycityharleyquinn]

Riled Up (Tenth Doctor)

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open and encouraged (im begging)

Summary: The Doctor grows tired of you trying to work him up.

CW: smut, frottage, closet sex (lmao), the Doctor is jealous, biting, tame dirty talk (imo), thigh riding, gender neutral reader

Doctor Who tag list: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

“Can I ask,” the Doctor says, pulling you down a hallway and into a tight closet. “What- are you doing?” 

He sounds angry. The expression on his face is hard. Eyes wide, mouth pursed into a thin line. You’re almost sure you can see a vein pulsing in his forehead. In his defence, you had been flirting with the ambassador for Pilch. In your defence, however, you’d not been flirting for reasons other than diplomatic strategy. But the Doctor clearly did not like it either way. 

“I’m not doing anything,” you replied indignantly, knowing exactly what you were doing. It had been somewhat of a game for you the last little while. How far can you push him before he snaps? You knew he wanted you, and he knew that you wanted him. You weren’t entirely sure what it was that was holding him back, but you were determined to break that barrier down brick by brick. It just so happened that the one time you weren’t actively trying to turn him on and get him to shag you in the bushes was the one time it apparently seemed to work.

“Bollocks,” he growled, pushing you up against the closet wall. The Doctor crowded into your space, nosing at your jaw and forcing you to raise your chin in submission. You sucked in a breath, hands reaching for his hips as he forced your knees apart and slotted his own between them. “You’re teasing me. You’ve been taunting me for weeks. Is this what you want?” 

The Doctor bit at your jaw, the sharpness of his teeth making you whimper. His hands squeezed at your hips and he rubbed his knee against you. 

“O-oh,” you whimpered before biting your lip to keep the sounds in. 

The Doctor tutted, pulling you into a kiss to make you release your lip as he rubbed your hips over his leg, rolling you against him so that the friction jolted electric pleasure up your spine.

“Want- want to hear you,” he said heavily, eyes dark with lust. “And don’t think I didn’t notice you didn’t answer my question, love.” 

Your hips begin to move of their own accord, working with the push and pull of his warm hands to bring you closer to the edge. Oh, this was not how you were expecting today to go. Not that you were complaining, of course. 

“I- It wasn’t my intention,” you panted, wrapping your arms around him tighter and moaning into his ear. He shivered as the sounds reverberated through his system. “But I can’t say I haven’t been trying to wind y-ngh-you up lately.” You nipped his earlobe to punctuate the point. 

The Doctor rubs his leg up against you harshly, delighting in the moans that fall from your pretty mouth.  

“Mm, see- I think you’re a liar,” he chuckles, gripping particularly tight at your hip. “You want this. You want me to fuck you, don’t you? The Doctor, huh? Bit of an age gap, but I’ll let it slide.” 

One of his hands releases your hip to palm at himself in his trousers. He groans, eyes fluttering shut. 

“Oh-oh- yes, maybe I should do this more often, hm? Maybe,” he trails off, licking a long stripe up the column of your throat. “Maybe I should split you open on my cock? Watch you tire yourself out. I’d like that. Would you like that? Oh, look at that blush. You would, wouldn’t you? You want to split yourself open on the Doctor’s cock.” 

He lets out a breathy laugh as you grind against him harder, getting so close now. 

“That’s it,” he whispers, bouncing his leg up to give you the extra stimulation. “Cum for me- God, please- cum for me.” 

It hits you all at once, the pleasure rippling from your core and through your body. You can feel your muscles spasming as you continue to rut against him, your arms grow tired and heavy and the Doctor laughs as he has to hold you up while your legs twitch with pleasure. 

“That’s it, love- just like that- oh, so good for me, aren’t you? Shh, that’s it. You’re alright, love.” 

The Doctor caresses your hair, holding you up and in his embrace. You’re panting into his shoulder, nerves alight and scorched with pleasure. 

“I don’t think the Ambassador is going to be happy that you took his newest toy,” you panted with a giggle. The Doctor grins that oh-so-charming smile of his. 

“I don’t think I care. Do you?” 

Your exhausted grin splits wider.

“Not really,” you reply. 

“Good.”

[partycityharleyquinn]

In It For The Long Haul (Doctor Who)

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: Almost dying repeatedly will wear anyone down eventually, and you're not sure how much more of this you can take.

CW: anxiety, nail picking, angst, comfort, sprinkle of fluff

DW tag list: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

Spending day after day with the Doctor could be incredibly easy. Travels throughout time and space, meeting aliens, seeing new planets and visiting markets and things. Those were the easy days. The soft days. The hard days, well, they almost broke you sometimes. 

The hard days were filled with kidnappings, murders, weeping mothers and danger lurking around any and all corners. You never knew what monster was going to pop out of what closet, or whether you were going to meet your end that day. And eventually, as that sort of thing would do to a person, it wore you down. 

Today, well, you weren’t sure you were going to make it. The Doctor was so used to this kind of thing day in and day out that you supposed he didn’t need to process it the same way you did, and the more you needed to press your memories back and bottle it all up, the more that tight ball of anxiety grew inside you, threatening to burst out and take you with it. 

The Doctor held his psychic paper in his hand, slapping it against the other thoughtfully. He’d received another message. Someone else who needed help. You wanted to help them. You really did. And you wanted to be there with the Doctor- side by side as you saved people and kicked alien ass. However, at the same time, the two of you had faced down at least three, maybe four, terrifying potentially fatal situations this week alone and, well, you were getting close to your breaking point. 

You were tired and overwhelmed.

You could tell just by looking at the Doctor that he was gearing up for an adventure. It was really horrible of you to think, but, well… if they were suffering and asking for help at a specific point in time- you could always wait a while and travel back to that point later. The caller would never know. You weren’t talking years or anything, just a few days. Even just a day.

As soon as the thought crossed your mind, you regretted it. You felt a wave of guilt wash over you, causing you to lean back against the TARDIS wall and sigh defeatedly. She seemed to hum from behind you, trying to give you a little comfort. Oh, you needed a vacation. And not a vacation where as soon as you get there the Doctor finds some alien threat to investigate or some bomb to diffuse. A real, honest-to-God vacation. Or you’d be the bomb the Doctor had to diffuse. 

“What do you think, eh? Up for another adventure?” The Doctor finally turned to you, a massive grin spread on his face. Upon seeing whatever expression was plastered on your own, his brows dropped down into concern. He hummed and within seconds had bounded over to where you were standing in the corner. “What’s wrong, love? Was it the crab? I never trust the crab from Sigfried Xena. Bit too… purple for me.” 

You let out a chuckle despite yourself. No matter what mood you were in, the Doctor always made you laugh. Whether it was intentional half the time was up for debate, but still. He made you laugh all the same. 

“It’s- it wasn’t the crab,” you say, biting your lip anxiously, looking at the tops of your shoes. The Doctor’s warm hand is suddenly over your own, and you realise that you’d been picking at your nails. A habit you’d formed when stressed or anxious. You were pretty sure that’s why you let them grow out sometimes. A steadying sigh leaves your lungs and you risk a look back up to the Doctor. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked pointedly, giving you one of those arched brow looks that always pulls you out of your shell.

“I don’t think I can do this.” The admission is so quiet you could barely hear it yourself. But the Doctor heard it. Of course, he does. 

“Do what?” 

You can tell he’s fighting the urge to say something to make you laugh. He can see you need to get this off your chest. 

“I don’t think I can go off on another dangerous adventure,” you breathe. “It’s not that I don’t want to, but, I’m- I can-” you let out a frustrated groan as the words refuse to form for you. The Doctor’s eyes are flitting between yours as if he understands perfectly and doesn’t understand a word at the same time. Then again, you were pretty sure that was just his permanent state of being anyway. 

“I almost died this week,” you say exasperatedly, feeling around the words and forcing them out. “Four times. And not in a cute oh-yeah-that-maths-homework-almost-killed-me kind of way. I almost actually died, Doctor. Four times. This week alone.” You knew he knew this, but you couldn’t regenerate. One bad shot from a gun, or a Dalek’s laser and it was game over for you. 

Being put in these situations over and over were starting to wear you down. The almost constant fear was starting to grate against your insides like sandpaper. 

The Doctor hummed for a second. You were almost certain this had been the most quiet he’d ever been. It was concerning. 

“I can’t leave whoever this is- they need help,” the Doctor said eventually, choosing his words. “I know you’re not asking me to stand by and let them suffer, but I can’t leave them. It’s not who I am.” 

You nodded, fingers grasping around the hand he has on yours so you didn’t start with your nails again. 

“How about this?” The Doctor says, using his free hand to raise your gaze back to him by your chin. “You can come, or you can sit this one out. The TARDIS will keep you company while I’m gone- and then when I get back, I’ll take you home.” 

You start to interrupt, but the look he gives you tells you to let him finish. 

“We can visit your family- oh, I dunno- have dinner or something, and then you can either come with me to the next great adventure, or you can stay. I won’t be upset.” You know this is a lie. Of course, he’d be upset. “Well, I’ll understand,” he corrects. 

You chew on your lip, peering into his eyes as if you’ll finally be able to decipher the thoughts going on behind them there. 

“One condition,” you say after a few moments, settling on a decision. “You take me dancing first- after the problem is dealt with that is,” you tack on quickly, waving at the psychic paper. 

“And I’m coming with you to help whoever that is. I might be overwhelmed, but I can’t stand by either.”

“Oh, yes,” he says softly, stretching back into that grin that melts hearts. “I think I can manage that.” 

He presses a kiss to your forehead, grasps one of your hands in his, and puts his other around your waist. You giggle freely as he leads you both back to the console of the TARDIS and lets go with an almost giggle of his own. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much I love dancing. Brilliant stuff, that is. Good for the soul. Alright, then,” he looks positively giddy, rubbing his hands together. “First stop Earth- 1746.” He starts booting the TARDIS up and organising the coordinates.

“Allons-y!” 

[partycityharleyquinn]

Bentley Shenanigans (Good Omens)

Crowley x Fem!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: Crowley needs to relieve some frustrations after that shitshow of a birthday party.

CW: vaginal sex, fingering, dirty talk, car sex, vague degradation/humiliation

Good Omens tag list: @coffee-and-red-lipstick @quickslvxrr @clarina04 @motionlessindoubt (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

This was possibly one of the most shocking things you had ever seen. Crowley was wearing white. You’d never seen him in anything other than black and when he’d first come to pick you up after the birthday party, you had known something was different, but couldn’t pick what it was. It had actually taken you at least two solid minutes to realise that it was because he was wearing white. 

“What the fuck- you’re- what are you wearing?” 

Crowley glances at you as he pulls into the parking spot at the lookout trail and turns the car off. Sometimes the two of you came out here just to get away. 

“What- this old thing?” He chuckles, tossing his sunglasses onto the dash before sighing defeatedly. Oh dear, it wasn’t a good sign if he could barely keep his sultry demeanour going.

“I think,” he trailed off. “It is safe to say… that did not go as well as I hoped it would.”

You’re not really sure what to make of that, given that the balance of the world as you knew it hung squarely on Crowley and Aziraphale’s shoulders. Sitting quietly, you wait for Crowley to continue. 

“I mean, really- you wouldn’t have thought it would be that hard, would you? Fucking nuns, Pet. Useless, the lot of them.” 

Crowley pinches his nose and turns toward you, eyeing you up and down. Your dress has ridden up your thighs and you do not fail to notice the way he eyes you appreciatively. 

“Fancy a quick fuck?” He asks casually. You splutter on a response for a moment. Here you were, discussing how the end of the world was fast approaching in less than a week, and Crowley wanted to shag? You blinked at him. That wasn’t to say you weren’t interested, either, mind you. You definitely were, but, it was just a bit out of the blue was all. What did that say about you, you wondered… In the face of the end of the world, you’re thinking about getting fucked one more time. Hmm. On second thoughts, you think it might just mean that you appreciate the fun things in life. 

“Sure,” you say, cheeks pinking at the thought of him in that white coat bending you over and taking out his frustrations on you. “One condition, though.” Crowley’s brow arches, a sultry smirk appearing on his face. “The coat stays.” 

“Your wish is my command, love,” he replied. “Back seat, then?” 

You nod, shocked at the casual nature of this exchange. It wasn’t something you were necessarily unused to, but there was usually a little more pent-up energy and flirting beforehand. However, getting straight to it wasn’t a bad thing either. It was kind of refreshing, actually. 

You get out of the car and go around to the driver's side. Crowley opens the back door for you and promptly bends you over into the back of the car. You gasp, your hands reaching out to steady you on the leather seats. 

Crowley slides his hand up your sundress, exposing your black panties to him. He groans, gripping at your ass before letting go and giving it a rough slap. You jolt forward with the shock. Crowley tuts and grips you by the hips to drag you back towards him. 

His hips ground against your ass roughly, his cock hardening beneath his pants. You bit your lip, enjoying the roughness of his clothes against your almost bare skin. Crowley laughed, reaching down to rip your panties off you. You let out a sound of protest, though Crowley shushed you. 

“Fix ‘em later, promise,” he assured you before tossing the ripped remains of your underwear over your head and into the other door. Any further protests died before they even formed thought as his fingers slid down over the curve of your ass and sunk themselves into your tight, wet heat. 

You moaned, thighs twitching as he fingered you open. If you weren’t wet before, you definitely were now. 

Crowley removed the fingers once he thought you were wet enough and presented them to you to clean off. You did so without complaint or question, sucking his fingers into your mouth, tongue swirling over the digits to clean them of your slick. 

Crowley grunted, the other hand undoing his pants and removing his cock from its confines. Once he was free, he pulled his fingers from your mouth, giving your cheek a little pat. The feel of the saliva cooling on your skin- the dirtiness of it- had you clenching. 

“Look at that,” he groaned, pressing his head against your entrance. “Sopping for me, aren’t you? Filthy thing, you are, Pet.” 

You nodded, pressing back against him. His head slipped inside, causing you both to groan. You with impatience, and he with pleasure. Crowley’s fingers gripped at your hips harshly as he slowly sunk inside you. Once he was finally inside you, you were finally able to relax. Feeling so full up on his cock felt like your version of Heaven. 

God, Crowley made you so cock-drunk that it was ridiculous.

Then, your Demon started to move, hips snapping back and forth with fervour. It wasn’t long before Crowley was bent over you, yanking your hips into his own with every thrust. You were scrabbling at the leather, cheek sticking to the seat with the sweat. Loud moans and sharp grunts could be heard coming from the car, and you hoped that no one was on this particular walking trail today. 

Then again, maybe you’d like an audience. The thought had you biting your lip to stifle the groan, and you clenched around the Demon, who straightened up and wrapped a hand into your hair. 

“Fuck, that’s it-” he growled, fucking into you harder. “Reach down there and play with that pretty clit for me, Pet. Mm- like that.” 

Your fingers reached your clit, rubbing tight circles. You could feel the push and pull of his cock from within you, could feel as your slick creamed around him. You cried out in sharp pleasure as he slapped your ass cheek again. 

“Are you going to cum already, Pet? Huh?” 

You nodded, the motion pulling at your hair just that little bit more. Crowley laughed loudly, fucking into you harder. 

“Better do it then,” he warned. “Come on, cum for me, Pet.” 

Your fingers were lightning quick on your clit. Your thighs were twitching and struggling to keep yourself up from Crowley’s punishing thrusts. With a loud drawn-out moan, you came. 

Crashing waves of chaotic pleasure roiled inside you. Your fingers crushed themselves into the leather as you felt your release roll through your muscles. Your clit felt like it was on fire as you forced yourself to concentrate hard enough to rub yourself through it, contracting around Crowley hard enough to make him cum. 

He grunted from above you, hips stuttering- and then you felt it. His release coating your walls. You whined, grinding yourself back against him as he started to slow. Crowley gave your hip a warning squeeze, but you ground yourself back on him, pressing him in as far as you could to make sure not a drop of his seed escaped you. 

You sighed with relief, fingers slowing to a stop on your clit. Crowley was hunched over you, panting with exertion. 

You laughed, the endorphins starting to kick in. Crowley chuckled breathily against your back and pressed a kiss to the fabric of your dress. 

“That was fun,” you said, unsticking your cheek from the seat. 

“Mm-” Crowley grunted in response. “Aziraphale will be jealous.” 

You don’t think you’re wrong in thinking he doesn’t seem all that upset about making the Angel jealous. 

“I think you’re right,” you pant back, slowly starting to catch your breath now. 

“Alright, come on,” he says, picking himself up and slowly pulling out of you, shushing you comfortingly when you whimper at the loss. “I know, Pet. Come on, let’s get you back to the Shop, eh? The Angel will be missing us by now.” 

You groan and force yourself to stand up. Your walls clench to keep Crowley’s seed inside. 

“Don’t miracle it away,” you say, knowing that Crowley was planning to do so for your ease of comfort. “You know how Zira likes his seconds.” 

Crowley tutted at you, a smirk playing across his lips. 

“Naughty thing, you are. Whatever are we going to do with you?” 

You hop into the passenger side again, your muscles thanking you for the relief. 

“Guess we’ll have to find out, won’t we?” 

“Guess so, love.”

[partycityharleyquinn]

Enticing (Broadchurch Drabble)

Alec Hardy x Fem!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: Alec comes home and ruins your anniversary surprise for himself.

CW: none? it's not smut, but there's lingerie and wandering eyes

Broadchurch tag list: @clarina04 @kaylinelizabeth4004 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

It was supposed to be a surprise for your anniversary. Alec was taking you out to dinner, and you were going to wear a pretty dress with pretty lace in Alec’s favourite colour and when you got home, you were going to sit him down on the edge of the bed, put some sexy music on and undress yourself, show him your pretty new lingerie (also in Alec’s favourite colour) and then ride him until he busted one inside you and wore himself out, the poor thing. 

But no. Your plans for the evening? Ruined. All thanks to the man himself. 

You’d wanted to make sure the lingerie fitted one more time before you started getting ready for your date night later and Alec decided that this was the one day in the history of his very long, very late career that he needed to come home early. During the daylight, no less. Had Hell frozen over? 

And so, he’d ruined the surprise for himself, wandering into the bedroom and seeing you in all your glory. He’d stopped short right in the doorway, mouth dropping open in shock. 

“Fuck- sorry,” he’d said at first, thinking he’d just wandered in while you were getting changed. But then he noticed the colour, the lace, the fit. “God, you look- stunning.” 

You deflated, arms dropping down to your sides. 

“Damn it, Alec- it was supposed to be a surprise. You didn’t knock. You didn’t even tell me you were coming home.” 

“I’m sorry, love,” he said, coming to stand before you. He raked his eyes up your form, and you took notice of the way his eyes dilated with lust. “Just nipped home f’er a wee snack. Forgot my lunch.” 

As far as explanations go, it was pretty poor. 

“Why didn’t you get something out?” 

“Don’t like the food ‘ere,” he said, lips curling distastefully. “Wanted- erm- some of last night's dinner.” 

Last night’s dinner was, in fact, pork ribs you’d made. Your speciality. Alec rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“I see,” you replied. “Well, you’re here now- what do you think?” 

You did a little twirl, squeezing your own hips and smoothing your hands over your barely covered skin. 

“Och, darlin’,” Alec says, stepping forward and running a hand up your side. “You’re fuckin’ gorgeous.” 

“Nuh-uh,” you tutted, stepping away from his exploratory hands. “You’ve had your sneak peek. Go on, get.” 

Alec frowned, giving you unintentional puppy eyes. 

“Don’t give me that look. You can unwrap your present when we get home from dinner.” 

Alec grumbled but didn’t protest too much after that. Though when you finally did make it to dinner, he seemed pretty eager to eat and get home.

In fact, you didn’t even get dessert. He insisted he had something far sweeter than anything that restaurant had waiting at home for him. 

How enticing. How could you say no to that?

[partycityharleyquinn]

Rough Around The Edges (Broadchurch)

Alec Hardy x Fem!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are: open and encouraged

Summary: You and Alec have been working on expanding yourselves in the bedroom. Today Alec wants to try something new

CW: this is fucking filthy and i love it, vaginal sex, face slapping, thigh slapping, degradation, verbal humiliation, dirty talk

Broadchurch tag list: @clarina04 @kaylinelizabeth4004 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

When you’d started dating Alec, you hadn’t necessarily clued him into a whole lot of your fantasies at first. Particularly not when things were still so early and you were mostly making love and not… necessarily… exploring each other's deeper desires. 

But as time went on, you found that as things tend to do, they naturally progressed. And so did your discussions around things to try in the bedroom. When Alec had asked if you had any specific requests or interests, you’d bit your lip and told him to make you tell him. And he did. Four just-out-of-reach orgasms later. Though it was a little unnecessary given the way he’d wrung the answers out of you was exactly what you were after. 

You wanted him to be rough with you. 

And not rough in the sense that things would hurt more than they’d be pleasurable, of course. You just wanted a little more excitement. A little more danger. You weren’t sure at first that Alec would understand given his line of work, but he never so much as gave you an odd look. It was quite common as it turned out, for women to enjoy that sort of thing. 

So here you were, pinned beneath his snapping hips and whining loudly into his ear. 

“Och- do be quiet, darlin’- daddy’s workin, eh?” 

You whimpered as he thrust particularly harshly into your heat. You would have tried to wriggle underneath him, but there was no point even trying with the way you were being held in place like some sort of toy to be used. The thought made your cunt clench around him. The man in question groaned, fingers bruising into your thigh. 

“Fuck, love,” he panted, slapping the inside of your thigh. You jolted, yelping into his ear. “So fucking tight, y’are- fuck-” 

You were panting beneath him, cunt aching deep inside from the need and pure desire to cum. God, you needed to cum. But Alec was doing as you asked and using you purely for his own release. He had no regard for your own orgasm, and that only served to turn you on even more. 

“Darlin’,” Alec warned, one hand coming up to press against your throat. You could see he was into it but was also concerned about hurting you. You nodded softly, letting him know this was okay. “Thought I told you t’be quiet- eh? If y’don’t stop, I’m gonna have to make you, y’ken?” 

You did your best to be quiet. You really did, but as soon as he started plowing into your g-spot and moaning sinfully right into your skin it became impossible. 

And then it happened. You were so shocked that the action did not even register for a second. It appeared by the expression on Alec’s face that he had not been expecting it either. He’d slapped you. Just an experimental thing, a little sting searing into your skin as the pain started to register. 

And then you moaned in response. You hadn’t meant to. The sound was loud, slutty and betrayed exactly how you felt about it. Alec’s gaze locked onto your lips. Oh, he wanted you to make that sound again. 

Alec started thrusting his hips, groaning as he started to chase his release properly now. His cock was twitching inside you and you couldn’t help the way you were keening your torso off the bed. You didn’t have the option to grind your hips up against him, so that’s all you had. 

Your fingers trailed down to rub against your clit, harsh movements back and forth right where you needed it. 

“Again,” you panted. Alec acquiesced, another little bloom of pain blossoming across your cheek. This one was a little less unsure. 

“Fuck, Again.” 

Alec’s palm connected with your other cheek this time, his hips stuttering forward. Oh, he was liking this too. 

“Fuck, Alec- please- please-” 

“Yeah?” Another slap. “Look at you, gettin’ off to daddy slapping you, eh? Dirty fuckin’ girl.” Another. “Filthy fuckin’ thing, I love you- fuck-” 

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks and with how hard and fast Alec was thrusting himself inside you and how harshly you were rubbing your clit, it wasn’t going to be long before you shoved yourself right over that edge. 

“One more- daddy- one more, fuck- I’m-” 

Alec chuckles heavily, his laugh punctuated with pants. He gripped you by the jaw and forced you to make eye contact with him. 

“Y’er going to cum for me, darlin’- goin’ to cum so fuckin’ hard- and f’er what? My hand on your cheek, eh? God, I-” his voice drops off into a moan. “Fuck, filthy ‘n pathetic, look at you. Love you so much, darlin’. Come on, come f’er me now.” 

One more slap to your cheek and you were coming undone on his cock. Your walls clenched around him as you felt your orgasm roll over you, your whole body shaking with the effort. 

Alec fucked you through it mercilessly. His hands both moved down to grip at your hips so he could focus on bringing himself to release.

 

Your cries and clenching around his cock sent him over the edge, ropes of his cum spurting inside you. He groaned, voice scraping like gravel as his hips jerked into you a few more times, the last of his high pulsing through him. 

When he was spent, Alec all but collapsed on top of you, causing you to grunt softly. 

“Are you alright, darlin’? Was I too rough?” 

To your ear, he sounded half asleep already. Or maybe he was just delirious with pleasure. It could have been either, honestly. 

Your fingers brushed the raised marks on your cheeks, delighting in the sensitive tingles that worked their way across your nerves as you did so. 

“Y-yeah, I’m- I’m good,” you panted, pulling at his arm so that he’d pull himself up and kiss you. He did so without question, pulling you up so he could roll you both over. You landed on his chest and his arm wrapped around you to hold you comfortingly. 

“Give it another minute and I’ll go get somethin’ to clean you up with, alright? You did so well for me, love. Always so good f’er me.” 

You hummed, snuggling closer. 

“Always,” you responded softly. Alec laughed, trailing his fingers up your skin and back down again. 

“Always, darlin’. Always.”

[partycityharleyquinn]

Your Devil (Bad Samaritan Drabble)

Cale Erendreich x GN!Reader / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: You want Cale to get a little dressed up for the trick or treaters on Halloween. Cale is less than impressed.

CW: Cale- need I say more, dominance, Halloween req BAYBEE

Bad Samaritan tag list: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

“This is fucking ridiculous. I am not putting that on my fucking head.” 

You pout, and Cale’s glare hardens further. You’re holding a headband with little devil horns on them. It's cheap and cliche, you’re aware. But he’d just look so cute and precious with them on! Your grumpy little demon. Oh, you couldn’t wait. Cale was putting them on even if it was the last thing you managed to make him do. 

‘Why not?” You pout as the doorbell rings again. You think better of handing the headband to Cale and take it with you as you swing the front door open. If you gave it to him he’d snap them or toss them. Maybe even burn them before you had a chance to get them back. You couldn’t have that. A chorus of little voices shout “trick or treat” as soon as the front door cracks open and you give each and every one of them a compliment on their outfits before handing them big bars of chocolates. You didn’t hold out for Halloween. Cale had the money so why not buy the big bars for them? Besides, it netted you more visitors the next year when you didn’t skimp. 

When you close the door, giving the kids a wave as they run towards the next house you don’t expect Cale to be pressing you up against the wooden door, a glint in his eye. 

“Because- Halloween is ridiculous.” 

You arch your brow and gesture to the maid outfit you’re wearing. It’s probably a little much when answering the door to give kids candy, but it’s also not too over the top, either. It’s almost tasteful. 

“It’s about fun, sweetheart. Besides, I didn’t hear you complaining about my outfit when I put it on for you last night.” 

Cale’s face drops into a scowl, and he looks as though he’s going to say something before he sighs in defeat. 

“Give it to me.” 

You break out into a charming grin and reach up to place it on his head instead of giving it to him directly. His outstretched hand stays there for a moment before he drops it, pressing an almost aggressive kiss to your forehead before wandering back towards the kitchen to get a drink, grouching the whole way.

“Pushing your luck, darling,” he grumbles just loud enough for you to hear it. You hear the fridge shut loudly before-

“You fucking owe me for this.” 

You don’t, but you’ll give him what he wants anyway. You’re good like that.

[partycityharleyquinn]

Could Have Been On A Picnic (Doctor Who)

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: You're pretty sure the Doctor cooks things like this up specifically to irk you. After all, you could have been on a picnic today.

CW: The Doctor will rot your teeth, crack fic, fluff.

Doctor Who tag list: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

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Of all the ways you thought today would be going- being undercover in an alien hideout on planet Earth in the year 3748AD was not one of them. Particularly because when you woke up this morning, the Doctor had promised you a picnic in the Isles with all the trappings of a good time. Wine, music, cheeses, fresh baked breads. Oh, it was going to be heaven. 

You could picture it now. You nibbling on cheeses and grapes as the Doctor lay half on the blanket and half on the grass, propping himself up on his elbows and soaking in the sunlight, telling you about some sort of intergalactic muffin he’d stopped from taking over the world or something. He’d told you there’d be cliffs with views of the ocean, and you had a sneaking suspicion that the Doctor had been planning on taking you to Scotland. He’d even said he was taking you during whale season. If you were lucky you might even see a migrating pod. You’d been forced to give up this beautiful picturesque morning out… for this. 

“Oh, come on now, you look great!” The Doctor stifled his laughter with an extremely fake-sounding cough. “No, really! Never better.” 

You glared at the Doctor and slapped at his shoulder, delighting in the offended “Oi- that hurt!” that instantly followed. Good. You hope it hurt. You hope it made him think about his actions and regret it (as if that ever happened).

“You’ll live,” you grumbled, smoothing down the fabric of your spandex body suit. Seriously? It was 3748AD and they hadn’t found a better alternative to spandex yet? Ridiculous.

The two of you were currently undercover in an alien nest. They were posing as humans in a travelling circus. What had initially clued you into the fact that there were otherworldly beings here up to no good had been the simple fact that no matter where the circus went, people disappeared. Not just patrons, though. Workers too. Of course, this lure was far too appealing to the Doctor, and so you’d found yourself at the circus in question and examining all of your life's choices that had led you up to this. Including, of course, the close mental picturing of the morning that should have been if it weren’t for these meddling aliens.

Of course, within about ten minutes the Doctor had scanned around and discovered what the problem was. Then, he’d whipped out this fun little number for you and put himself into a far less ridiculous outfit. Sometimes you thought he did this on purpose. 

In fact, you were certain he did this on purpose. 

Your fun little fit was a leotard in vibrant stripes of colour winding across your form on the diagonal. It wasn’t even a rainbow. There was a brown stripe followed by a red, followed by a yellow and followed by a purple. It made no sense and was a complete eyesore. The sequins did not help. They didn’t even match the stripes they were sewn onto. 

What was worse than that, though… Was the mask. Was it a mask or a hat? You weren’t sure. The only thing you were sure of was the fact that it was a fucking travesty and you did not want it on your head. A soft, fluffy thing that you were thinking was supposed to be some sort of alien giraffe? But you weren’t entirely sure on that either.

The Doctor, much to your disappointment, was not dressed in such a ridiculous fashion and was dressed up in a red coat with a black ribboned tophat. He looked, comparatively anyway, relatively normal. 

There really was no need for this. 

“I’m beginning to think you handed me this on purpose,” you grumbled, fiddling with the fabric. It was hot in there, and you were beginning to sweat uncomfortably. 

“Me? Never!” The Doctor replied, scanning a locked door with his Sonic. You huffed as he tried his best to turn away before you saw the grin stretching out across his face and followed him in, having to lean down to get the stupid head of the giraffe thing through the doorway. 

This, of course, caused the Doctor to break out into another laugh. 

“Shut up, Doctor,” you said, ripping the hat off and throwing it down next to one of the crates littering the ground. The Doctor pouted, looking genuinely disappointed. 

“Oh, what’d you take it off for? I thought it suited you. Very nice, that was.” 

You glared, wiping the sweat off your brow and unsticking the sweaty hair from your forehead. You reached out to wipe it on him and the Doctor teetered back, doing his best to escape your fingers.

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh all you want now. Next time I’m picking the stupid costumes. Then we’ll see who’s laughing, won’t we.” 

You’re pretty sure the Doctor makes a mental note to never get the two of you in a situation where costumes are required ever again. 

“You’re no fun,” he grins boyishly. 

“We both know that’s not true.” 

He nods his head thoughtfully for a moment, before going back to scanning the room and its contents. 

“Yeah- yeah, you’re right. You’re loads of fun. The best of fun! After all, who else would put that on and saunter into the belly of the beast with me, eh?” 

“Who indeed,” you reply, kicking at a scrap of fabric. “Look at us go.” 

Look at you go indeed.

[partycityharleyquinn]

Missed (Broadchurch Drabble)

Alec Hardy x GN!Reader / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: Alec's been away for a while. It's safe to say he missed you

CW: fluff, you will need the dentists, mentions of murder

Broadchurch tag list: @clarina04 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @yeethaw13 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

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“God, darlin’,” Alec says, wrapping you in perhaps the tightest hug you’ve ever felt and breathing in the smell of your hair. “I fuckin’ missed you so much.” 

You wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. You can smell the flowers he’s bought you by your ear, the crinkle of the cellophane almost hurts your ear drums.

“I missed you too, my love,” you reply, deflating with the relief that comes from having him back in your arms after all this time. He’d been gone for a month. A whole month! He’d been called off on some investigation that just kept dragging on. He’d caught the killer in the end, though. He always does. “How was it?” 

“Fuckin’ miserable. So dreary. Even the people were dreary.” 

You laugh as he nuzzles his face into your neck as if to escape the memories. 

“I mean, someone was murdered in their small town, Alec, dear. That would tend to make people a bit miserable.” 

Alec grunts in response. You know he’s glad to be home. He could have come home earlier if he’d wanted to, but he wouldn’t do that. Not when there were cases to be solved and justice to be served. Alec was just like that- no rest until it’s all sorted. It’s one of the things you love most about him. 

“Alright,” you say, reluctantly pulling away from him and taking his hand. He hands you the flowers with the other and you sniff them. They’re stunning, as usual. You give him a happy kiss. “Oh- thank you so much! Alec, they’re beautiful!” You clutch them close to you and drink in the way Alec’s looking at you. So full of love. You’d never get used to him looking at you like that.

“Come on, let’s get you home, huh? I got you your favourite for dinner.” 

Alec squeezes your hand and gestures for you to take the lead. After all, you know where the car is. 

“Did you just?” Alec asks, looking more excited by the moment. “Y’always ken just what I need, don’t you?”

You give him a wink before sniffing the bouquet in your hand. 

“I sure do.”

[partycityharleyquinn]

Out In The Sticks (Broadchuch Drabble)

Alec Hardy x GN!Reader / requests are open and encouraged!

Summary: It's high time you forced Alec to take a vacation.

Song: Would That I - Hozier

CW: very soft stuff- idk,, go to your dentists after reading to check for cavities

Broadchurch tag list: @clarina04 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @yeethaw13 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

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Alec’s never really been one for vacation. Never been one to kick his feet back, sip on a margarita and relax by the pool with a good book. No, Alec’s idea of relaxing was a quick cup of tea and a read of the paper. 

It had taken a great amount of effort to convince Alec to take some of his very, very extensive leave entitlements and pop off for a weekend away, but you’d got there in the end. 

So here you both were, just arriving at a cabin out in the sticks. It was due to snow tonight. It was safe to say that you were excited, and Alec less so. He really was a total grump, but you loved him anyway.

“I hate the snow,” he complained, right hand reaching out to feel as the first flecks of snow started to fall. “So bleedin’ cold, too.” He shook his hand off when the first two melted instantly, the water cold. 

Alec shivered in his big puffer coat and you cooed, pulling him into your embrace. You patted his head mock-comfortingly. 

“Aww, poor baby,” you pouted. “Izzit too cold for you, hm? Poor little thing, come on inside, darling baby.” 

Alec pulled away from you, giving you an only half sincere glare. 

“Shut up,” he growled with no bite, pointing an accusatory finger at you. You broke out into laughter and pulled him by the hand towards the cabin door. It was a quaint little thing and you couldn’t wait to get inside. There would be plenty of time to explore tomorrow. Alec pulled the key from his pocket and unlocked the cabin, pushing the door open with a very satisfying wooden creak. 

There was a fire roaring in the fireplace for you already. Seemed a little dangerous to you, but hey, you weren’t the one paying for the insurance. You let out a gasp as you took in your surroundings. Wood grain everywhere, pretty rugs and a big comfortable-looking leather sofa. Oh, yes, now this was more like it.

Alec shrugged your coat off, pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead. He placed both yours and his coats on the hook by the door and followed you inside. By the time he’d managed to close the door and toe his shoes off, you were already in front of the fire, warming your cold hands and shivering with relief as the cold finally started to ebb away. 

“We should fuck on the rug later by the fire,” you say casually, not looking away from the flames licking up the sides of the logs. “I’ve always wanted to do that. Isn’t there champagne in an ice bucket somewhere too? It’s a plan. Fuck on the rug and then celebrate our fucking with our ice bucket of champagne.” 

Alec scoffs by your ear, wrapping his arms around you. You jump from how cold his skin is and tut. 

“Jesus, man,” you say, not pulling away in the slightest. “I’m going to have to strap water bottles to you this weekend, aren’t I?” 

Alec kisses the top of your head in response.

 

The two of you stand there for a little while, swaying softly in the heat of the fire, enjoying each other's company and finally, after a good long while, getting to relax. No work, no stress. 

The only thing that waited for you this weekend was the spa, some wine, maybe a snowball fight and- if you had any say over it- a lot of naked cuddling. 

You couldn’t wait.

[partycityharleyquinn]

A Hug? (Marvel Drabble)

Loki Laufeyson x GN!Reader / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: You ask Loki for a hug. He's very Loki about it.

CW: It's Loki, it's fluff, it's a new(ish) character for me haha (discounting my many FrostIron works on ao3 from yonks ago, of course)

Marvel Tag List: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

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“Can… Can I have a hug, please?” 

It’s said so quietly that you’re not sure Loki’s even heard you. You should know better by now though, he’s always known what you needed. Hell, he’s always known what you were thinking before you did. He just… was good at reading people. You particularly. You supposed that tended to happen when one spent their many, many lifetimes taking account of things. Planning things. All the things, really. 

But you know he’s heard you when his eyes flit towards yours, a cocky grin spreading across those thin lips. That grin has given you nightmares, daydreams and many, many orgasms. And he always loves it when you ask him for things, dangling your request like a carrot to a rabbit. Not that you minded. His games were dangerous but fun. 

“A hug?” He asks, arching a brow, the word sounding alien on his Aesir tongue. “Really?”

You fight the urge to split into a grin of your own. There he goes, dangling that carrot. Loki moves closer. Careful, calculated steps, hands clasped behind his back. He steps around you, leaning in close to intimidate you. It works… barely. 

“I am Loki, God of Mischief, and you, pathetic mortal, have just asked me for… a hug?” 

You can’t help it now, playful joy radiating from your cheeks. Loki breaks himself, chuckling and wrapping you up in his arms. He holds you tight, burying his face into the back of your neck and breathing in the smell of you. 

“God of Mischief,” you sigh, relaxing back into him. Loki hums. It’s half in agreement and half in acknowledgement. He noses against your hair before turning you around in his arms, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. 

“That I am,” he replied, brushing a thumb over your cheek. 

“That you are.”