#| to help y'all out if you prefer to not send an ask it's a f*ckton of pralinesims content. do with that information what you will.

[mossyivy]

NSFW ALPHABET

[DI! Leon S Kennedy Edition]

❗Minors Do Not Interact ❗

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Cuddler, massive cuddler. Honestly I see Leon as enjoying his partner being cuddled up to his chest but as long as you're touching each other he really doesn't mind. He just needs to be grounded after sex because he's not use to intimacy. (Remember y'all, aftercare in important FOR EVERYBODY INVOLVED DOM/SUB/SWITCH WHOEVER!!!)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

Definitely proud of his arms. Man's got two pythons where his forearms are supposed to be. I'd be proud of those bitches too. It also doesn't help how often you tend to cling to them, admire them while cuddling up together or compliment how they look when he flexes.

When Leon's asked the good old "tits or ass?" question older than time itself he smirks and simply says thighs. He loves something plush to nap on when he comes home from work. He always says it'll be a quick 30 minute nap but he's always out for 3 hours when he's laying his head on your lap. They're just such a nice pillow and even nicer wrapped around his head.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Usually prefers finishing inside. If not then on your stomach. There's just something mesmerizing about watching his cum slowly drip out of you on down your belly that just makes him so horny that he can't get enough of you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Okay... So you send Leon pictures and he saves them. (He'd never share them though) But he secretly has an album in his phone labeled as WORK meticulously organization so that when you open the album it has important looking photos but if you scroll far enough it's just things you've sent him. Nudes, videos, even screenshots of steamy texts.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Decently experienced. Enough to get him by but also good at listening to his partner. Takes criticism well in the bedroom. Just wants his partner to have a good time and show that he loves you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

On your side or anything he can see your face. He's often tired so slow easy strokes on his side and using his hands is right up his alley. But for when he's feeling more energetic he's definitely up anything he can see your reaction with. He aims to please and the man is a good shot.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Definitely 50/50. Leon can crack jokes when his life is at risk I'm sure he'd probably say something goofy to make you laugh or even something stupid like "come here often?" When you're changing positions and his creaky body pops or cracks he'll say some smart ass comment about the bed makes weird sounds again.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Definitely trimmed. Leon doesn't strike me as a massively hairy guy to begin with. But what hair he does have is well kept.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Intimacy is his favorite part of it all. Very tender and soft compared to what he is during work. Enjoys the touching the most. He's very touch starved. Cuddle him and he'll melt into a puddle. He LOVES being little spoon.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Jerks off often. Uses it as a stress relief thing but doesn't do it as often when he gets a partner. But I do think when he's away on cases and he has downtime at night he tends to call his partner and have phone sex.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Begging, biting, breeding, dirty talk, edging and roleplaying

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere at home. Leon would most likely be super hesitant about doing anything outside of the house and risking criminal record.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

His partners touch. Leon just really likes being touched. If you mostly just kiss him and move to his neck (it's sensitive, that's why he rarely wears anything that constricts his neck) you'll get him going in no time.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

No hitting, nothing with feet, no bathroom related stuff, no voyeurism or exhibitionism and no humiliation

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

50/50. But definitely more giving in the oral department. Uses it as a form of foreplay. Enjoys it because he loves hearing your slowly break and cry for him.

Sometimes he's just to exhausted to fuck so those are the times he'll just straight up tell you to sit on his face. He doesn't care if you're bigger, he knows you're not gonna hurt him. If you try hovering her will definitely wrap his arms around your thighs and pull you down on him. The man is skilled with his mouth and hands. So be prepared for the time of your life.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Definitely slow sensual type of guy. He likes making every moment last. But there's definitely been a flurry of passion after gets back from particularly long cases.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If he has to go out for work and he has a little bit of time before leaving, most definitely he'd be down for a quickie.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's fine with experimenting but not often.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Good for 3 rounds unless he's super tired. Last decently long, always makes sure his partner gets off first each time.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Oh Leon definitely owns one of those vibrators that work with apps. Sometimes when he's due to come home and he knows you have it in you he'll just tease you on the way home.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Usually Leon doesn't tease but when he's in a particular frisky mood, he will make beg to cum. And he doesn't care if you want it. If you don't beg like he wants he will make you wait and keep bringing you to the edge over and over like an asshole.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not loud in the slightest but he's definitely not scared to moan or whimper. Even curse under his breath, especially if he has you on your side and he's right in your ear.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Said I love you for the first time during sex. Was mortified with himself, he meant it but was extremely embarrassed. Apologized profusely and told you he did mean it. And thankfully you love him back, obviously.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

Ah yes, python 3. I'll be honest, I'd say he's at the higher average end in size but makes up for it in girth... Like a fucking coke can.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Leon had little to no sex drive but once you two got into a relationship he's like a teenage boy again. Can barely stop from wanting you all the time. But he's still more of the romantic intimate type and would rather just exist with you than constantly be at each other.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He clings onto life afterwards. Just wants to make sure you're taken care of but the second you relax against him he's down for the count. Like a god damn bear in hibernation.

[httpsserene]

𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝟑: 𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: your boyfriend has to make an appearance at some sponsor event. he's gone ahead and bought you an alluring outfit, but he failed to mention how seductive he looks in the new fitted suit his team got him. you two won't be staying long, but you increase the pace by riling him up, mostly unintentionally. so it's your fault that he makes you ruin his loaned mclaren. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. squirting. car sex. semi-public sex. ooc (out-of-character) oscar. overstimulation. mild possessive behavior. mild jealousy. vaginal fingering. vaginal sex. condom usage. the audacity of men. lando norris’ savior complex /jk. author’s overuse of italics and run-on sentences. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5k words 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: oscar piastri x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: water • tyla

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: what can i say, y'all. back at it with the unhinged thirst. every time i do one of these, they've been getting shorter and shorter. don't be afraid, for #4 (dr/mv) i'll be back on my game, they deserve it. yes gremlin lando appearance. also, i cannot imagine oscar ever acting this way, that's why i put the ooc tag? it's definitely a fun read tho (i think), along with the smut! thank you, loves, for the support on this event!

want to be added to my general taglist? or my f1 kinktober taglist? send me an ask!

thank you to my betas! @biancathecool for helping with my grammer and @barnestatic for her wonderful spoiled brat idea :))))

cross-posted on my ao3, httpsss

if you want to look at what i'm planning for ktober, or catch up on previous uploads here's my f1 kinktober masterlist and my general masterlist for all of my works!

oscar is known for his unfazed, composed and collected demeanor. he’s aware that some people say he has no personality–but, he’s just an introvert at the end of the day. oscar’s a man of few words: that’s what people who aren’t well acquainted with him would say. if you’ve had the pleasure of sticking around oscar long enough for him to become comfortable with you, you’ll learn that oscar has an incredibly complex personality. he’s overly sarcastic, has a niche sense of humor, and can ramble endlessly at you. but, he’s still a fairly calm and quiet individual. which is why the way oscar is about to scream at the top of his lungs in the middle of this mclaren event, would be considered uncharacteristic of him.

he originally invited you to join him tonight thinking that having you by his side would eliminate the social exhaustion he experiences at these types of sponsor events. however, the aussie failed to realize that you may introduce a…different problem, to tonight’s business party. when oscar asked you to join him two weeks ago, he was prepared for all of your objections–you’re both chronic homebodies, and you both hate partaking in small talk with balding, later-aged, cologne-drenched, white men who don’t know when to let a conversation die. he chose the perfect time to ask you (after you emerged from the bathroom post-self-care bath), and addressed all of your grievances. 

oh, you don’t have anything to wear? he already bought you an outfit, had it altered to perfectly fit your measurements, and bought you a pair of heels and a purse to match. oh, you won’t be able to get your hair done in time? he already scheduled an appointment with your usual hairstylist the day before the event, paid all of her fees, and tipped her very nicely. oh, your nails aren’t done?  he booked you a spot at your preferred nail salon for a premium mani-pedi, and has a few nail inspiration photos picked out if you can’t decide. if you need your lashes done or need to get waxed, he can make the call right now; he has them on standby to fit you in.

knowing the amount of phone calls oscar had to partake in to arrange all of this causes you to fold and agree to join him. there’s nothing more the two of you hate than making phone calls–well, besides the pr events.

oscar had chosen an alluring burnt-orange mesh corset and matching ruched ankle-length skirt that looks beautiful against your warm, soft and shining brown skin. your hair is silk-pressed, length reaching your mid-back and your edges are laid in a minimal manner, matching the simplicity of your makeup look. simple gold rings are spread across a few fingers, ears accessorized with a pair of small good hoops oscar gifted you, and his initials rest in the dip between your clavicles attached to a thin gold chain. objectively, you're considerably modestly dressed, the only skin you're showing is on your arms, shoulders, a smidge of your decolletage, and the tops of your feet in the low-heeled strappy sandals. 

this is the start of what oscar failed to account for. he didn’t expect the outfit to hug your curves like plastic wrap. the whole night he’s had to forcefully deny himself the opportunity to stare at your ass, but that doesn’t mean the other men at the event have the same courtesy. he’s taken to burning holes with his eyes into anybody who lets their gaze linger over your form for a second too long. on a regular day, oscar is generally unaffected by anyone who appreciates your body (they can look, but the second they try to touch–you let them know exactly how they had you fucked up), but if he catches one more mclaren engineer undressing you with their eyes–he will make zac fire all of them; he’ll plan his own race strategy and do his goddamn pitstop by himself.

oscar also didn’t account for how your timid and sweet attitude would have everyone enamored with you; at first, watching everyone eagerly attune to your shy words was amusing to him, but it quickly became a nuisance. he was originally leading you around the room, doing his rounds at any important figures’ tables, and everything was fine. and then, oscar had made the obvious mistake of making you laugh–a pleasant stream of giggles spilling from your lips, dimples deepening, and smile widening at whatever small joke he made. he’s always thrilled to see how you throw your head back in amusement, how your hands clap together gleefully, and how your eyes squint in from the force of your laughter. as he shakes himself out of your dazzling trance, he attempts to rejoin the conversation–but every single person at the table remains entranced and wide-eyed at you. 

this would be completely fine, of course, if it was a one-off occasion; but it’s not. 

suddenly, every person oscar tries to thank for supporting mclaren, starts ignoring him and paying more attention to you. he’s literally the pilot of the car that these people are spending an absurd amount of money on, but they can’t even bother to try and pretend to listen to him. men and women alike are finding any excuse to prolong conversations with you, and even lean within your personal space with the excuse that ‘they can’t hear you very well because you’re so soft spoken.’ nobody can invade your personal space, but oscar. he has no choice but to do the very thing he hates–pda. you continue to circle around the room, his hand constantly resting on the small of your back or the dip of your waist. when you’re in the middle of listening to some completely unnecessary story a man is telling you, oscar constantly adjusts your hair, plays with your rings, and smooths down your skirt if he feels like they’re trying too hard. you banish oscar to getting you a glass of water when he begins to interject in conversations in a passive-aggressive manner.

his third strike off the night, might actually be an overall win in his books. when you saw oscar in his new fitted suit, you stared him dead in the eye and told him to ‘get naked and rail you’. it’s this beautiful deep cream color that pairs perfectly with the dark orange tone of your outfit, but the vest underneath the suit jacket highlights his tiny waist so clearly that it makes you want to scream. in between socializing, you overwhelm oscar with compliments, unable to stop telling him how handsome he looks. you surgically attach yourself to his side and hug his arm; taking an occasional squeeze of his bicep, playing with his cufflinks, and tracing the veins on the back of his hand. oscar practically runs to get you a refill of water because he’d be unable to stop himself from getting fully hard if you touched him any longer–the trousers hide nothing.

he can feel your burning gaze from across the room, and turns back to watch you after asking a waiter for water, and catches your eyes roaming the length of his body. in high-definition, he sees your tongue wetting your lips before you bite at your bottom lip–and then, your attention is stolen away from some random man who’s introducing himself to you and the group of ladies you found yourself accosted by as soon as oscar left your side.

and, that’s it for oscar. he thinks he may have heard his last-fucking-button being pressed inside his head, and seethes. he goes to push off from his leaned stance against the counter and makes to start his warpath, but a hand grasps at his shoulder. oscar turns around snappily, biting out an irritated and sarcastic, “can i help you?”

“woah! calm down now, mate. thought you were going to bite my head off for a second,” it’s lando, “if i were anybody else i’m sure there would be an unfortunate tabloid of ‘how oscar piastri is the most rude f1 driver on the grid’” lando jokes teasingly, yet a hint of seriousness leaks into his tone. 

oscar nods, understanding the underlying warning within the brit’s teasing. he apologizes softly to lando, before glancing back over at you, and can infer that you charmingly informed the man that you have a boyfriend—based on the way you point in his direction. oscar watches the polite smile fade from your face as the man continues to bother you, and the murderous look rises to his face again.

“OKAY”, lando claps abruptly, startling not only oscar, but everyone in a 10 foot radius. lando waves everyone else’s eyes away, smiling like he didn’t do anything, and speaks underneath his breath, “go. i’ll cover for you.”

oscar’s mouth drops open, baffled, “what?”

“leave—get your girlfriend and go,” lando says matter-of-factly, his smile becoming genuine, “zac probably won’t like to hear that you looked particularly murderous, and he definitely won’t like hearing that you slaughtered our sponsors, and that i let it happen.”

oscar snorts before he thanks lando sincerely, and the brit dismisses him, “i’m just looking out for my rookie teammate as the senior driver for our team. i can’t let your horny teenage mindset become common knowledge to our esteemed guests.”

“first of all,” oscar says dryly, his grateful mood dissipating at the mocking, “i didn’t even know you knew the word ‘esteemed' existed,” lando scoffs, “and secondly, you are literally only two years older than me.”

lando looks at oscar with a blank stare and deadpans, “do you want to leave or not?”

oscar daps up his teammate in farewell, and makes his way over to you as quickly as he can without seeming desperate, your glass of water left behind on the counter. your back is facing him as he approaches and you're still unwillingly participating in conversation with the man who can’t take no for an answer. as he gets closer, he can piece together the conversation; the dude doesn’t believe you have a boyfriend and you must be lying to him, and you’re adamant that your boyfriend is very real.

“look, bro. even if i was lying about having a boyfriend, why would i give you my number now? like, i’m just supposed to forget how you’ve been harassing me—“

oscar rests his hand on your side, and when you turn your head to see who’s touching you, he leans down and kisses you. it’s a kiss deep enough to let everyone know who you’re leaving with tonight, but not deep enough to be salacious (he can hear lando’s cackle from the other side of the room).

you melt into his kiss before he pulls away, leaving you dazed and disoriented, stumbling into him. oscar drapes his left arm around your shoulder, guiding you to tuck into his side, while he offers his right hand to the offending man for a handshake. “it seems i haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you yet. i’m oscar, i drive for mclaren,” he introduces himself, sounding overly pleased.

the man angers, ignoring oscar’s extended hand and cockily states, “you should already know who i am. my family nicely lent you the mclaren you drove here tonight!”

“ah,” oscar smiles viciously, “if ‘your family’ kindly lent me the car, that would explain why i only remember your father’s name–and not his arrogant, disrespectful, and narcissistic trust-fund son’s name.”

the man stomps his foot in rage, like a spoiled brat, and questions, “who do you think you’re talking too?!”

oscar smirks, “nobody important, apparently,” (one of the ladies listening whispers a quiet ‘damn, that’s crazy’), oscar continues, “don’t worry, mate–i’ll make sure your father’s car returns home to him safely. should i bill you for any cleaning, in case i make a mess of it?”

the guy stumbles over a response before he scoffs and stomps away. oscar shrugs uncaring, before addressing the group of ladies who were cliqued to the side watching the whole interaction, “well. if you all don’t mind, i’m just going to steal her away from you ladies, if that’s okay?” (like there’s an option). the ladies fawn over oscar’s protectiveness before they let the two of you go, and then he starts herding you towards the exit.

it’s torture. in every five steps the two of you take, you're interrupted by various guests trying to catch you one last time. oscar feels like they’re all intentionally aggravating him; patting you on the arm, commenting on how eye-catching you look, and using the fact that the two of you are leaving to press a kiss to your hand in goodbye. you two burst out of the main doors and sigh in relief, for different reasons–for you, it’s because oscar didn’t give one of his sponsors brain damage, and for oscar, it’s because he’s one step closer to getting you in his bed.

you grasp at oscar’s hand, and he starts to lead you down the steps towards the valet, and as you fall into step at his side, you speak softly under your breath, “i can understand why you kissed me like that inside because the dude was being an asshole–even though you were marking your territory like some kind of dog–but, please; don’t tear this poor man’s throat out for helping me into the car.”

the australian remains quiet, properly chastised and works on releasing the pent up effect of the annoyances from inside the venue. everything is going well; the valet asks oscar for his parking ticket, and he goes to grab the keys, but stops just before he makes to start heading to the car, and turns back to you two and says, “i don’t know if i told you when you walked in but–you look incredibly beautiful tonight, miss. you could be a model, seriously. like, you should feel so lucky to have a woman like her–”

all attempts of oscar finding his peace are thrown out of the window. he interrupts the dude’s rambling, and bites out, “hey man, y’know what. i can just take the keys to the car. we can walk to it.”

the valet stutters, confused, “a-are you sure, i mean it’s like pretty far in the back. i can run and get it no pro–”

“it’s FINE! i mean, it’s cool, we can use the extra steps, y’know. enjoy the breeze and everything,” oscar says, slightly maniacal. there’s no breeze, it’s warm. the valet’s and your eyes meet for a second and a shared thought of “he’s trippin” is passed telepathically.

the valet concedes, not wanting to upset the f1 driver any farther and tosses him the keys. as the two of you are passing by, oscar hands the man a bill that’s probably too big based on the man’s astonished gasp. you call out to the man, continuing to walk further in the lot, “sorry about him! he just gets a little touchy about strangers driving his car, y’know?” oscar grumbles lowly next to you, and you smack him on the arm, “what did you want me to say? ‘oh sorry, my boyfriend just wants to fuck me really badly to soothe his needless jealousy?’”

“as long as he knows who’s the one who gets to take you home and fuck you.”

“oscar!” you squeak, “we both know we’d die of embarrassment if you said that. i can’t even imagine those words coming out of your mouth, in that order.”

you guys eventually puzzle out where the car is after several remote beeps of the car’s horn, and find that it’s literally tucked away in the last row, far corner with no surrounding cars for two rows.

oscar doesn’t open your door like he usually does, and leads you around to the driver's side. he opens the door, pushes the seat back as far as it goes, and sits down. without saying anything, he loosens his tie and goes to unbuckle his belt before you reach down and grab at his hand, bewildered, “oscar jack! what the fuck are you doing?”

he blinks, “i’m fucking you, right now. it’s too long of a drive back—i’m going to crash the car if you keep sitting next to me in that goddamn outfit. i was going to take you to the bathroom inside, but i figured you’d at least prefer the car. you can be a little louder here.”

your mouth dries, “you said they loaned you an incredibly rare, vintage mclaren, babe. i’m not gonna-“

oscar wrestles his way out of his suit jacket, spreads it underneath him on the leather seat, and pats his lap. “problem solved.”

shifting your weight, you glance around nervously. oscar is right, you would prefer the car over the bathroom. all those people inside who could overhear, gossip, and spread the news of how rookie mclaren, f1 driver, oscar piastri, had you yelling his name in the middle of an event. you’d pass.

“oh, c’mon now, babe. you didn’t think i saw the way you were eating me alive with your eyes inside,” your boyfriend teases, “i know you‘ve at least gotten a little wet for me already, haven’t you?”

that’s all it takes; the australian acting possessive and feening to get inside you is more than enough to have you straddling his lap and pulling the car door shut with a slam.

oscar tugs you into dirty make out, and you get lost in his pink lips, tugging teeth, and explorative tongue. the last of your breath tapers out in a reedy moan, and you break the kiss to pant against his lips, and oscar laughs. his laughter spreads through your chest, and it has your hips rolling against the bulge you feel underneath you. his amusement is cut off, and his hands fly to grip at your hips. he starts tugging you against him in a filthy grind, and choked off moans from the two of you start to fill the car.

you press kisses to oscar’s jaw line, paving a path down to his wide strong neck with your tongue. you suck on small patches of skin, not using enough suction to leave a mark, but enough for oscar to become aware of the fantasization that you could. the aussie gasps at every random suckle of your lips as he scrambles to pull the skirt up your legs. you shift your hips up to make it easier for him, as your hands feel down his torso to his belt. it unbuckles fairly easily, and you shove it out of the way, to unzip the slacks and pull his cock out.

oscar moans, throwing his head back at the feel of your hand on his length, and you get entranced in the trap that his pale thick neck is, again. you hum against his neck, introducing teeth alongside the ache of the suction of your mouth, and bully the collar of his shirt out of the way to find a space to leave a few marks. oscar’s breath freezes at the first hickey he feels you leave, but the rapid inhale he takes next clears his mind enough to have his right hand pull your panties to the side, and move to caress your heat.

you shudder on top of him, your breathy sigh amplified within the car. oscar sinks two fingers inside of you, and a much louder moan is tugged out. your hands fly up to grasp onto his shoulder, and your head tilts backward away from his neck in pleasure. his fingers thrust into you gently for a few beats slowly working to open you up for him and once he feels your cunt starting to relax, his thumb reaches to press at your clit. whines fill the air, as you lean all the way back, resting your back on the steering wheel allowing oscar all the space he needs to stretch you out. his fingers start curling as they drag out of you, and you can feel the pads of his fingers rubbing over a soft spot on the front of your walls. 

oscar’s eyes were stuck marveling over the overwhelmed expression on your face, but once he starts feeling wetness dripping down his arm he glances down, and curses out a rough, “fuck, baby—you’re dripping all over me.” your cheeks burn hot, and you can’t tell if that’s out of humiliation or the effect of his awe-filled voice. your right hand releases his shoulder, and bats at his arm, before tugging at his wrist to pull his fingers out, “that’s enough, mmm, just get in me already.”

oscar eagerly draws away; he uses his clean hand to tug his wallet out of his back pocket, and tugs a condom out with a smidge of struggle before handing it to you. you snatch it out of his hand, biting it open and rolling it over his cock, and once it’s on, you tease, “jeez, osc. you really were planning on jumping me in the middle of the event tonight—grabbing a condom and everything; you think i’m that easy?”

he chuckles, satisfied, his hand drenched in your wetness rubbing over his cock to get him slick, and teases back, “you’re about to ride my cock in the parking lot of said event, pretending to be worried about ruining the seats of this vintage car. i’m not calling you easy, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared, does it?”

your cheeks are definitely burning from humiliation this time around, but you huff, ignoring him checking you. you tug his hand away, raising your hips, and guide him to your entrance with your own hand, before slowly sinking down. 

twin sets of moans fill the air as he bottoms out; one of his hands reaches to palm at your ass (it’s sticky, so it must be the one he fingered you with), and the other grips at your waist tightly. you squirm on top of him, knees barely managing to find enough room to prop on the seat to give you a stable base. once you feel stable in your cramped position, you give a testing grind of your hips, and from there, it’s lights out.

oscar lets you set the pace for a few thrusts, suffering in the languid rock of your hips; you’re torturously tight around him, and he can only groan at the feeling of you wrapped around him. his chest heaves, before he brings both hands to halt your hips, and starts fucking up into you rough and quick. a scream jostles out of your throat at the unexpected change of speed, but you just take it with no complaints, allowing yourself to go limp against the wheel of the car to hold your body upright. he moves your body for you, pulling you downwards to meet his upward thrusts; and you feel him constantly applying pressure against that one tender spot right under your navel.

your boyfriend revels in the sound of the moans he’s punching out of your throat, admiring the way your head is thrown back—mouth open wide, eyes scrunched tight, lips bruised and bitten to hell. it’s a lewd picture, painted by himself. the car rocks along to his frantic rhythm, windows fogging, and sweat begins to form on both of your skin. the aussie’s core tightens; he won’t last much longer, you’ve had him half-hard the whole night.

a frustrated grunt escapes oscar, and you hum questionably about to ask what’s wrong–but his right hand leaves your waist to furiously start circling your clit, and an ear piercing shriek leaves you. “c’mon now, babe. ah-be good and come f’me yeah? im so close, baby–please,” he babbles, the last shred of sanity leaving him. his hips don’t falter once–to you it feels like they’re moving quicker, every sensitive spot receiving attention from the sharp snaps of them.

you cry out, it’s all too much; your hand reaches down to press against his navel in a feeble attempt to stop him from stroking so deep and roughly, and incoherent pleads try and tumble out of your mouth, “mm! osc–no! ah–too much, baby! it’s too much–hngh–feels weird–s-slow down!” it’s like his ears are filled with cotton; he can hear you begging down at him but can’t make out what your saying over the blood rushing in his ears. he’s trapped staring at your pretty cunt, watching the obscene amount of wetness coming out of you–the suit jacket underneath him is completely ruined, and he off-handedly thinks it won’t be saving the leather upholstery.

your legs start quivering and trembling–it damn near looks like you're freezing to death, even though the car has become as humid as a sauna. your own orgasm shocks you, and your eyes roll back erotically–unable to give oscar any warning. and in your last moment of awareness, you realize that something feels different, but it’s too late.

you choke on your scream of, “oscar, fuck!” as fluid gushes out of your cunt, and the first wave is enough to completely drench oscar’s pants, and oscar finally returns to the moment in amazement. he eagerly brushes his hand against your clit, and shortens his strokes to quick little jabs to force more of your juices out, and you can only ride along. you try to slam your legs shut, to jostle oscar’s hand away, but it’s futile with his torso propping you open for him. you’re sobbing messily, as he forces more liquid to spray from your cunt–and he moans out his own orgasm, ripped from him in surprise. the australian halts his stimulation this time around when you frantically tug his wrist away when the pleasure melds to pain, and allows himself to get a few more jerks of his hips in.

you fall forward, collapsing into his chest–the squelch of your thighs meeting his pant-covered ones has him humming and grinding his hips into you as gently as he can. the two of you shake against each other, hearts rabbiting as you catch your breath. oscar’s hands rise to rub at your back, bringing you down from the aftershocks still trembling over your body. 

“i-i’ve never squirted before,” you whisper into his neck.

your boyfriend hums softly, “did you like it?”

he feels you nod against him shyly.

“then, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he comforts, knowing if he seems approving of it, you’ll be quicker to accept it as something good, “how i’m going to explain the ruined suit and car seat to mclaren on the other hand…”

a shaky laugh from you causes oscar to smile, “i told you you shouldn’t fuck me in the car.”

“how was i supposed to know that tonight would be the night i’d made you gush all over me?! i was hoping that when the time came we’d at least be on a couch,” he whines.

“shut the fuck up,” you joke, “i want a live play by play when you explain the cleaning bill to zac.”

the aussie pauses, faking thoughtfulness, “maybe i should send the bill to the trust-fund baby. zac would back me up–he’s american, he’d probably find it hilarious.”

oscar gently shifts you over to the passenger seat, and you tug your skirt all the way down, and he fights his way out of his slacks that stuck to his thighs with your wetness. he manages to wrangle them off and kicks them to the side of the car floor along with the soiled suit jacket, after fishing the keys out of them, sitting out in his boxers, and glances over to see you adjusting your appearance as best as you possibly can.

“you want a mcflurry?” the aussie offers.

“as long as we can get a fry with it,” you smile at the random shift in conversation, allowing him to hide his embarrassment.

oscar turns the keys in the ignition, and the engine rolls into life with a deep, vibrating hum. he catches your legs pressing together tightly, and you squirm at the purr of the engine under your seat.

“well,” oscar starts nonchalantly as he reverses out of the spot, “you have the time that it takes to get from the drive-through to the flat to finish eating–because as soon as we get home, i’m taking you to bed and learning how to make you squirt, consistently. i don’t care how long it takes, or how many orgasms you have–i’ll keep going ‘til you come dry, babe.”

taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr @nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld @buendiabebeta @butterfly-lover @lana-d3l-rey @dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhajj @miahgonzalez16 @jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @sweetpiccolo-blog @my-ylenia @zaynzierulez @reblog-princess

© httpsserene 2023

[repulsiveliquidation]

earmuffs

Aitana Bonmatí x Reader [BLURB! angst.]

hey y'all! first work of the year! thank you all for being patient with me, i haven't been active one bit but hope you enjoy this one!

also send in more long aitana fic ideas! i have some blurb ones and one fic i have in my WIPs but i'd love to write more!

//

It’s New Year’s Eve in Barcelona and the whole team is together at Ona and Lucy’s house for the countdown. You’ve begrudgingly attended, your secret new girlfriend was insistent that you come before dragging you out of your house the day of. You’ve always hated fireworks, an accident when you were a kid in England that hurt your little brother still traumatized you despite it being years ago. The loud noises and the screaming didn’t help; you much preferred to be at home with all the windows locked tight and not a single curtain opened to hide under the blankets until the colorful lights were over.

"come on everyone, the countdown is in 10 minutes!”

Aitana stands, reaching out for your hand to help you up. She smiles softly before her face changes into one of confusion.

“Aren’t you coming?” she asks, reaching down to take your hand. You cringe and smile awkwardly, shaking your head.

“No, you go ahead Tana. I want to sit in here.”

“Bebita, it’s the uh fireworks! It’s pretty no? You can’t miss it, bebé.”

She tries to pull you up and you follow her, she walks ahead with a big smile as she joins the rest of your teammates on the deck.

You’re already trembling, reaching for the wicker chair on the deck to sit on. Kiera is beside you, she also happens to be the only one who knows about you and Aitana. She sees that scared look on your face, immediately rubbing your back as you sit.

“You okay, kid?”

“Uh, yeah. Just tired, that’s all.”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, kiddo.”

Suddenly, Lucy is yelling while looking at her watch.

“3, 2, 1, HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!”

The team erupts in cheers and they start to light all their fireworks. Lucy managed to find big and loud ones this year, along with many long ones that you could hold and have them shoot out. You yelp in surprise when the first one goes off, a big box of 30 rounds blowing up in the middle of the garden. Aitana, who was watching you the entire time, hoping for a New Year’s kiss, saw the fear in your eyes before anyone else did. Her hands immediately pressed against your ears and they pulled you into her stomach as she stood between your legs and kissed your head. She leaned down and whispered in Catalan, you didn’t understand a thing but her soothing voice calmed you immediately. Tears streamed down your face but you held onto her, she didn’t move an inch until the fireworks stopped and the girls had retreated inside.

“Amor?” she said as she knelt, hands moving away from your ears to hold your wet face.

“Sorry, it’s stupid,” you begin, pushing her hands away and wiping the tearstains off your face. She huffs, grabbing your face again. She looks deep into your eyes with tears. You begin to panic, cooing at her to not cry. She sits beside you and takes your hands in hers.

“It’s not stupid, amor. You were panicking.”

“I’m a grown fucking adult, I shouldn’t feel this way,” you say with gritted teeth, wiping away frustrated tears as you stand and try to walk away from her. She’s small but defiant, grabbing your arm to make you face her. she’s got an angry look on her face that immediately disappears when she meets your eyes.

“Talk to me, amor. What’s going on, sí? I’ve never seen you like this before,” she says, pulling your body close to her. you’re just a foot taller, she tucks her face into your neck and leaves soft kisses.

The team watches from the inside with deep concern for their teammates, when suddenly everyone's phones are blowing up. Lucy opens her phone from where she’s sitting on the counter with Ona between her legs and gasps in shock. Patri had posted a New Year Instagram story and there was a brief two-second pan towards you and Aitana where she pecked your lips to calm you as her palms pressed against your ears.

“Patri, you idiot!” Alexia yells, chewing her out. There was no point in deleting it, the whole world knew that you were together.

Back outside, you and Aitana had moved to the stairs leading up to the porch to sit and talk. She held your hand in her lap, softly rubbing the back and occasionally kissing it. you leaned into her, head resting on her shoulder as you told her about your fear of fireworks.

“My cousins were being rough and not careful. Their parents told them they couldn’t play with it on New Year till my father got home but they didn’t listen. They lit one and pointed it right at me when my little brother jumped in front of one and got second-degree burns because his sweater caught on fire.”

Aitana listens carefully, eyes widened in shock when she learns the reason behind your fear. She leans in and kisses you softly, taking your hand in hers tighter.

“I wish you told me, cariño. I would have stayed home with you.”

“But you love the fireworks, I thought I could handle it; not. I’m sorry you couldn’t watch them.”

“No bebita, you were more important. Thank you for trusting me.”

"Te amo Tana, gracias por estar ahí para mí".

"Yo también te amo, mi niña.”

You two walk back inside where Alexia still hasn’t finished chewing Patri out she’s almost red in the face.

“What’s going on?” Aitana asks, gently guiding you into the kitchen where everyone is.

“Have you checked your phones, both of you?” Ona asks Alexia, taking a break and being handed a glass of water by Lucy.

“No,” you both say, pulling out your phones to see what’s all the fuss about.

“Oh fuck,” you whisper, hand going over your mouth in shock. The two-second clip of you and Aitana kissing while you were having a meltdown is going viral, already trending on X.

“Patri!” Aitana starts, already marching towards the much taller Spaniard. You stop her, grabbing her forearm. She turns around with rage in her eyes, fiercely wanting to protect your privacy more than hers. She softens when she sees the affection in your eyes, letting herself be pulled back to you.

“I don’t want to hide anymore, mi amor.”

“But bebita,” she begins, you cup her cheek and lean in to kiss her before she can finish her sentence. The whole room erupts with cheers and laughter, María capturing another picture of you two. She airdrops it to you as soon as you pull away from Aitana, Alexia already giving Patri a big hug and apologizing for yelling at her.

Back home that night, you post the picture María took and make it official. The world goes crazy, but you and Aitana knew that only the two of you mattered.

[just-jordie-things]

If possible, could you please do cuddling headcannons? Feel free to ignore this if you don't want to or can't for any reason at all

remember to drink water and take breaks <3

YES YES YES I CAANNNN also i need to start incorporating choso into these brainrots ok so pls feel free to send stuff specifically for him if y'all have thoughts and ino too i love him sm

gojo satoru

sleep cuddler and there's no escaping from it

he's happy with being the big or little spoon, happy if you wanna lay on his chest, he doesn't care how it happens but he needs it mkay

hopefully you don't overheat bc if you try to scooch away from him he will be heartbroken

he likes to tease about it but really he just loves the feeling of you falling soundly asleep in his arms. loves how you snuggle into him in your sleep

fushiguro megumi

likes it when you rest your head in his lap.

whether he's reading or finishing up a report, it's comforting to have you there. sometimes you scroll through your phone and sometimes you go straight into a nap, he doesn't mind what you do. he just likes to have you close whenever he can

one day you make him lay on your lap while you're both lounging on the couch and he probably laughs at you when he complies

but then he settles into your thighs and you run your hands through his hair and he's out like baby in minutes

so now it's your guys' thing <3

itadori yuuji

likes to have you on his lap

it's his favorite thing to wrap his arms around you and hold you close to his chest. it's so warm and comfortable

will set his chin on your shoulder as you watch a movie or something

definitely whispers in your ear one minute but then is yelling at the tv the next. the whispering is sweet though

kisses your cheek a lot too, you're just so close he can't help it

inumaki toge

prefers to smother you a bit

it was a joke at first, the night he climbed on top of you and went boneless just to hear you laugh

but it was actually so comfy for the both of you that he sorta just stayed there. like a heavy blanket.

wraps his arms around you and tucks his face into your neck and snoozes

he loves feeling your heart beating against his chest. it's the most comforting thing in the world

okkotsu yuuta

if he could have you on top of him 24/7, he'd gladly accept it.

can only sleep if you're on his chest. not just your head, either. your whole body.

he will not be content until your legs are a tanlged mess and your hair is messily sprawled out across his chest.

he needs easy access to kissing your head a million times throughout the night

this goes for casual cuddling too. you're watching a movie together? get on top of him.

if he can't actively lay down, he'll just pick you up and hold you against his chest, just high enough that you can't touch the ground and have to cling to him

when he's on missions away from you, he sleeps holding a pillow against him, but it's not the same :(

kamo choso

likes being a little spoon AND I'LL DIE ON THIS HILL OKAY

he's never been held before he had no idea the amount of comfort having someone's arms around you could feel, and i think he'd be shy about it at first but once he's more comfortable with asking for what he wants, he'll ask for it all the time

you press so close, warming up his back with your chest and pushing your feet between his legs just to get closer

loves when it's late and you're whispering to one another, how you press your lips to his spine and shoulder blades, or rub the tip of your nose affectionately against his skin.

with your arms wrapped around him he can easily hold both of your hands in one of his, and he always keeps them close to his chest all night

takuma ino

finishing off strong with big spoon lover

holding you is the greatest part of his every day, and he's not afraid to tell you. he'll text you on particularly rough/slow days just to tell you how he can't wait till you're in his arms again

if you get into bed and don't automatically settle against him, he will drag you into his embrace. there's no getting out of it

always tucks his face into the nape of your neck, smelling your hair and kissing your skin as he quietly tells you how much he missed you all day

wraps his arms around you and holds you tight against his chest all night. he can't stand to be apart from you anymore than he has to.

[justabigassnerd]

I'm Right Here

Pairing - Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell x daughter!reader

Word count - 3,515

Warnings - mentions of kidnappings, angst, but mostly fluff/comfort

Summary - You wander off during Maverick's volleyball match sending both you and him into a panic

A/N - it's a Maverick fic y'all!!!! I really enjoyed getting to explore what Mav would be like as a father, especially during the events of '86 Top Gun and I've also learnt that writing Goose and Mav's dynamic is my new favourite thing I love them. This was a request I was sent in and I hope I did it justice! I also just wanna say that watching the volleyball scene back showed me that they weren't actually on the beach so I set it kinda near the beach but not at the beach if that makes sense? Anyways I'll stop rambling now. As per y'all please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!

“Alright squirt, are you ready to see me and Uncle Goose beat Ice and Slider in volleyball?” Maverick asks with a grin as he scoops you up, making you squeal happily as you hug your dad tightly.

“Uncle Ice!” You cheer happily, excited at the thought of seeing Iceman. Maverick chuckles lightly at your words.

“You’re well on your way to breaking Goose’s heart, darling.” Maverick laughs before pressing a kiss to your temple. Since moving to Miramar to attend Top Gun, you’d decided Iceman was one of your new favourite people and Maverick saw how Ice looked out for you and appreciated it, regardless of their rivalry. Now, it meant that Goose was facing competition for the title of best uncle and Maverick thought it was hilarious.

“Let’s make sure we have everything packed so we can go to the beach once we’re done.” Maverick says and the second the beach is mentioned, you’re squirming to get out of his arms to gather the things you want to take with you to the beach. Maverick grabs a bag and lets you pack what you want while he packs some food to take to the beach. Once the bag is packed, Maverick helps you put your shoes on and as he straightens up and slings the bag over his shoulder, a knock at the door rings out.

“Hey, Goose.” Maverick greets his RIO with a smile as he opens the door.

“Hey, Mav.” Goose beams, giving Maverick a high-five as you notice Goose’s presence.

“Uncle Goose!” You yell excitedly, running to him as quickly as your legs could take you.

“Hey, pipsqueak! How’s my favourite Mitchell doing?” Goose says as he picks you up when you hold your arms up. Goose laughed when he saw Maverick’s narrowed eyes at his question.

“Those are brave words coming from someone whose position of favourite uncle is being threatened by Iceman.” Maverick says cockily as he slips his aviators on and grabs his keys before he brushes past Goose to exit the house, leaving Goose shocked as you giggled at his expression. Maverick would usually take his motorbike to the volleyball court but with you coming too he opted to walk instead. He didn’t live too far from the court and Goose offered to walk with you, so it was decided that the trio would walk.

“Mav is that- y/n, you prefer Uncle Goose to Iceman, right?” Goose asks desperately, maybe too desperately given that he was begging for approval from a three-year-old but being your godfather and had been your favourite uncle since you were born, he was willing to fight to hold on to that title.

“I love Uncle Goosey!” You say with a grin, making Goose nod in approval as he follows Maverick down the path.

“And I love Uncle Ice.” You admit which makes Maverick double over laughing when Goose’s smile drops from his face instantly. He quickly recovers and smiles at you once more.

“You’re going to break hearts when you’re older.” Goose says with a chuckle as you gesture that you want to be put down.

“We are not thinking about that Goose, stop talking.” Maverick says quickly, covering Goose’s mouth to stop him from talking any more. You were barely three years old, and Maverick was already dreading the day you’d grow up and start dating. As the three of you walked to the volleyball court, you kept running ahead, distracted by your surroundings and as Maverick turned his attention back to you, he found you almost wandering off.

“y/n/n, come here please!” He calls for you and you run right back to him. Maverick knelt down just before you reached him and he took your small hands in his.

“You can’t wander off, sweetheart, okay? Make sure you’re always in my sight, or Uncle Goose’s. Does that sound okay?” Maverick asks, his eyes searching yours as you nod.

“Okay, daddy.” You say with a large Cheshire cat grin that Maverick can’t help but mirror. Maverick then stands up to his full height and takes your hand once more, continuing the walk. When the three of you reach the court, you see Iceman and immediately, run up to him, demanding you get a hug as you greet him and of course, Iceman complies. As Iceman gives you a hug, Slider gives you a high-five, both men doting on you as Maverick puts the bag down and takes his jacket and top off, ready to play volleyball.

“Iceman, Slider, I thought we were here to play volleyball not to fawn over my kid.” Maverick calls over to the two as he puts his shirt and jacket on the bleachers that the bag is sitting next to.

“Don’t be jealous just because you’re not the centre of attention, Maverick.” Slider taunts as Iceman places you back on the floor, letting you run back over to Maverick who scoops you up and sits you on the bottom bleacher, next to the bag and his shirt and jacket.

“You stay right here and guard my stuff okay kiddo?” Maverick asks with a smile as Goose ruffles your hair lightly. You nod at Maverick’s words and attempt to slide Maverick’s jacket on, both of you laughing at the sheer size of it compared to you.

“It’ll fit you one day, kid.” Maverick grins, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before he and Goose cross to the court to begin the match against Iceman and Slider.

At first, you watched the match diligently. You laughed when your dad and Goose would happily celebrate scoring a point with a double high-five. Your attention slowly slipped away from the match and onto your dad’s jacket you since had taken off, tracing the images on the patches until something fluttered past you, tearing your attention away from the jacket completely. You see a small bird staring at you, head tilting as it flicks its tail. Entranced by the bird you hopped off the seat and walked towards it. The bird fluttered away slightly before landing back on the ground again, turning back to face you and flicking its tail once more, seemingly instigating a game of cat and mouse. You continue to follow the bird, giggling as it flies a few meters away and yet still turns to see if you are following it. After a while, you and the bird came to a standstill, staring at each other and as you waved at it, the bird hopped a little closer to you, inspecting you curiously as it chirped, flicked its tail once more and then finally took off into the sky. You watched it fly high into the sky, waving goodbye at it as it joined its fellow birds who soared in the sky with it. When you finally tore your eyes away from the birds in the sky, you looked around you and had a sudden and horrible realisation that you had no idea where you were, or where your dad was.

Back at the volleyball court, the aviators had just wrapped up their match, with Iceman and Slider securing a strong victory as they celebrated loudly. Maverick had grumbled about how he was going to beat Iceman and win the Top Gun trophy to prove that this volleyball match meant nothing. When he approached the bleacher to grab his shirt and jacket so he could go to the beach with you and Goose where you’d meet with Carole and Bradley. When he reached the bleacher, he noticed that you were nowhere to be seen. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked around as he pulled on his shirt and tugged his jacket on, the panic in his eyes hidden by his aviators.

“Goose, have you seen y/n?” Maverick says when he senses the presence of his RIO, turning to face him. Maverick’s worry only increases when Goose shakes his head.

“Last time I saw her you sat her here before the match.” Goose’s response made Maverick’s breath hitch in his throat. He felt panic rising within him as he looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of you somewhere. Having heard Maverick’s panicked breaths, Goose placed his hands on his pilot's shoulders, getting Maverick’s focus on him.

“Mav, we’re going to find her, okay? She can’t have gotten far. We’ll find her.” Goose said reassuringly. As a father, Goose understood Maverick’s panic. There was one time Goose lost sight of Bradley in a store and Goose nearly had an aneurysm thinking someone had taken him. Thankfully, he found Bradley in the sweet aisle, his little hands grabbing at as many colourful packets as he could. Goose had never felt a relief quite like finding Bradley again and he scooped his son up in his arms and held him tight, instructing him to never do that again. Iceman and Slider, noticing the panic between Maverick and Goose, came jogging over to the two after throwing their shirts on.

“What’s going on?” Iceman asks, eyebrow raised as he glances between Goose and Maverick as he tries to assess the situation.

“We can’t find y/n.” Goose says, hardly removing his focus from Maverick so he could focus on keeping Maverick from hyperventilating. At Goose’s words, Iceman and Slider exchanged a worried look before turning back to Goose.

“Come on Slider. We’ll look around for her.” Iceman says to Goose who nods quickly before resuming his focus on Maverick. The pilot and RIO duo take off in a random direction, calling your name and looking around for you or anyone who might’ve seen you. Meanwhile, Goose was still focusing on keeping Maverick with a clear head so he could focus on finding his daughter.

“Deep breaths, Mav. We can ask around while Ice and Slider look for her.” Goose says as Maverick takes his aviators off, wiping at his eyes fiercely.

“What if someone took her? Or she gets hurt? I can’t lose my little girl, Goose.” Maverick says worriedly, more tears working their way down his cheeks.

“We’ll find her. Come on, let’s ask around and see if anyone has seen what direction she went off in.” Goose says with a gentle smile, encouraging Maverick to follow him so the pair could ask fellow navy personnel if they had seen where you might’ve gone.

You were still confused and lost. You hadn’t moved from where you realised you were lost, too scared to move so you stayed put, bawling your eyes out as you hoped your dad would find you. There was no one around to help you. In your fear, you sat on the floor, not knowing what else to do other than cry.

“y/n! y/n, where are y-” Iceman cut himself off when you came into his line of sight. Your head shot up at hearing Iceman’s voice, but your cries didn’t slow.

“Ice!” You managed to cry out as the blond pilot ran over to you, kneeling down and assessing you for any injuries before you threw yourself into his arms, tears pouring down your face.

“Slider, go and get Maverick, now.” Iceman instructs his RIO as you bury your face in his shoulder. Slider nods and without hesitation turns to run back in the direction of the volleyball court to track down Maverick.

“I want my daddy.” You whimper into Iceman’s shoulder as he moves to hug you.

“I know sweetheart. Slider’s gone to find your dad, okay? They’ll be here soon.” Iceman whispers reassuringly, glancing around as if that would bring Maverick to you quicker. You hadn’t wandered massively far from the court, but Iceman understood that what is a simple path to him would not be the same to a three-year-old. After a couple of minutes of Iceman whispering words of reassurance and promising you that your dad is coming, Maverick appears with Goose and Slider hot on his heels.

“Daddy!” You cry out when you see Maverick, quickly wiggling out of Iceman’s arms and into Maverick’s as he bends down to pick you up, setting you on his hip as you cry against his shoulder. Maverick allowed tears of his own to fall as he let out a shuddering breath of relief when he felt your tiny arms wind around his neck.

“I got you; y/n/n. Daddy’s got you.” Maverick whispered as he pressed repeated kisses to your temple as you cried, clinging to him. Maverick’s free hand came up to rest on the back of your head, running a hand through your hair as you sobbed in relief.

“I was scared.” You whine, making Maverick’s heart break as more tears roll down his cheeks at your words.

“I know sweetheart. But I’m right here. I’m not letting you out of my sight again.” Maverick assures, squeezing you tighter before pressing more kisses to the side of your head. Just as Iceman and Slider went to leave, Maverick turned to face them.

“Thank you.” Maverick says to the two who nod their heads in acknowledgement at his words.

“No worries, Mitchell.” Iceman says, the two men now seeing each other in a whole new light. Iceman was now seeing a devoted father who would do anything for his daughter instead of the reckless and cocky aviator he saw at Top Gun. While Maverick was now seeing someone who dropped everything to look for a kid that wasn’t his and without being asked instead of seeing the man who lectured him after every training session for flying dangerously. After sharing a curt nod with Maverick; Iceman and Slider headed back to the volleyball court, leaving Maverick and Goose with you.

“I think we’re going to head home, Goose. Just let Carole and Bradley know we’ll catch up with them another day.” Maverick says to Goose who nods in understanding.

“No! I wanna see Brad!” You exclaim tearily when you hear what your dad says, pulling away to look your dad in the eye. Maverick raised an eyebrow curiously while he lifted a hand to wipe your tears away.

“We don’t have to go to the beach sweetheart.” Maverick says, worried that you’d either wander off again or felt you had to go just because Bradley was going too.

“I wanna see Brad and Auntie Carole.” You whine, burying your face in the crook of your dad’s neck as he looks over at Goose who shrugs.

“Your call, Mav.” Goose says, not wanting to intervene. Maverick turned his head to look at you as you pulled away again, giving him the best puppy dog eyes you could as Maverick cursed internally. He could never say no to your puppy dog eyes.

“Okay, we’ll go to the beach with the others. But you are to stay in my sight at all times.” Maverick instructs, his expression conveying every ounce of seriousness that he could as you nod, understanding every word he said clearly. Maverick glances over at Goose and gestures for them to head back to the volleyball court to gather up the beach stuff before heading down to the beach. You refuse to let your dad put you down so Goose takes the bag and the three of you begin the short walk to the beach. When you reach the beach, Goose crosses to his wife quickly and captures her in a sweet kiss before sweeping Bradley up into a hug. Just as Goose puts Bradley down, he quietly explains to Carole what had happened earlier and she felt her heart break for the Mitchell’s knowing how terrifying the thought of losing a child was. Carole immediately moved to speak to Maverick as he attempts to lay out a beach towel while keeping you in his arms.

“Hey Mav, how’s she doing?” Carole asks sweetly as she helps Maverick lie out the towel and smiling at you as you wave at her.

“She’s pretty shaken up. I also feel like I gotta buy Ice’s drinks for the rest of his life for finding her.” Maverick admits with a slight chuckle as he moves to carefully sit down, freeing one of his hands to ease himself down.

“She’s not hurt physically either, thank god.” Maverick says as you settle yourself into his lap, your once teary eyes lighting up when you see Bradley come running over. Goose sets down another towel alongside Maverick’s and sits down on it, opening his arms and gesturing for Carole to sit in between his legs which she does with a laugh, snuggling back into his chest. Once Bradley has dropped his toys on his parent’s towel he launched at you for a hug, pushing you into Maverick as he dramatically fell onto his back, causing a pile of children on his chest as he wraps his arms around the both of you.

“Uncle Mav! y/n!” Bradley giggles, wrapping his arms around you in a hug you reciprocate a bright grin covering your face.

“Hey, kiddo.” Maverick says, ruffling Bradley’s hair as he swats at his hand, protesting loudly as you giggle. When Bradley finally clambers off, Maverick sits up, adjusting you so you’re sat in his lap once more as Bradley rushes to his parents, his little hands digging through Carole’s beach bag to find his bucket and spade.

“y/n, do you want to build a sandcastle with me?” Bradley asks, his eyes shining with glee as he grins at you. At first, you don’t respond, wrapping your arms around Maverick and cuddling into him.

“Oh, y/n might not be in the mood to build sandcastles right now, buddy.” Goose says, noticing your reaction and looking over at his son who looks between you and his dad curiously.

“Why not?” The five-year-old enquires, not understanding why you didn’t want to join in on building sandcastles.

“She’s just a bit tired, sweetheart. But you can build sandcastles if you want.” Carole says, smiling sweetly at her son.

“But it’s no fun without y/n.” Bradley whines, his bottom lip jutting out as he complains.

“Bradley, come on buddy, you have plenty of time to build sandcastles with y/n another day.” Goose says, trying to lighten his son’s dampening mood. Noticing Bradley insist that building sandcastles is better with you, you feel more in the mood to build sandcastles with Bradley. But you were also terrified to be out of your dad’s arms in fear he’d disappear and you’d be alone again. Maverick noticed you looking at Bradley and loosening your grip on him so he looked down at you with a gentle smile.

“You want to play with Bradley, sweetheart?” He asks, giving you the freedom to decide whether you wanted to or not.

“Yes, but I don’t want to be far away from you.” You admit, looking down at the towel and Maverick’s face softens as he moves to hook a finger under your chin to lift it so you’d look at him.

“I got an idea.” Maverick says with a small smirk. He shuffles forward on the towel until he’s right at the end of the towel, barely sitting on the towel. He then stands you on the sand, still holding your hand as he reaches his spare hand back to the bag to dig out your bucket and spade, handing them to you with a smile.

“Okay, take two steps forward.” He says and you do as he asks, looking back at him after each step to check he’s still there and to your relief he is, grinning at you.

“There we go! You’re doing so well! Now, hold your hand out towards me.” Maverick then instructs gently, waiting for you to do as he asked and when you do, he reaches out and takes your hand in his.

“See that? If you feel worried while you’re building your sandcastles you can just reach for me and I’ll grab your hand, yeah? But if it feels like too much you can always come and just cuddle and chill out with me.” Maverick says, making sure you know you have options as he speaks and to his joy, you nod and immediately kneel down in the sand with Bradley and begin making sandcastles.

“You’re good with her Mav.” Carole says with a smile as the parents watch their kids playing in the sand.

“This was a win-win for us. She didn’t want to be too far away from me and I wanted her in my sight. It seemed like the best solution.” Maverick shrugs as if what he did wasn’t a big deal, barely glancing Carole’s way as he focuses his attention on his daughter, waiting to see if you reach out for him. Every time you looked over at him to make sure he was still there, he was sure to send you an encouraging smile and took your hand whenever you asked for it. But mostly you were kept occupied by Bradley, the two of you building rows of sandcastles and decorating them as you happily chat with each other.

“Twenty bucks says these two get married when they’re older.”

“GOOSE!”

[moodywyrm]

Would you be able to do Ellie with an oral fixation? Like she’s a lil puppy who shows her love by nibbling and biting and having her mouth on you in all ways possible :(

I can absolutely do that omg you're right!

loser college barista Ellie,,, chews on pens during her shift, is always chewing on her lips, bites at her straw so much that her coworkers got her a reusable silicone straw to stop her from gnawing up straws every day.

loser college barista Ellie, who doesn't notice that you watch her when she's chewing away on something because it's so fucking cute. you pointed it out early on in your relationship (after nearly three months of pining) and she got so blushy! so embarrassed!

because Ellie knows the other ways her oral fixation manifests. she'd shown you the way she nibbles on your shoulder when y'all are watching movies, or how she leaves you all marked up when you straddle her lap and kiss her silly. or how she'll gnaw at your bicep, your forearm, your tummy. she's a biter! a nibbler! baby loves to Chew!

but you two hadn't had sex yet, so you didn't know just how ravenous she could be when it came to giving head. by god did you fucking learn.

The first time she went down on you was during finals season. How she held out that long you will never know, but she saw how stressed you were and put the idea out there that hey maybe I can help you out?

she was 100% panicking about it because sure, y'all had made out before with some heavy. heavy. petting. but never any direct contact, so she was fucking terrified. but when you agreed, needing the stress relief and also desperately needing Ellie, baby was ecstatic.

After you had taken off all your shorts and panties, leaving you in nothing but one of your sleep shirts, Ellie laid you down and positioned herself between your legs. She pushed your legs open by your knees, rough hands rubbing soothing circles as she knelt down, nuzzling her cheek against the soft fat of your thighs.

Ellie tried to be composed, she really did. But when she finally looked at you, at your needy cunt spread open for her, dripping for her, she fucking broke. Ellie pressed a kiss to your needy clit before diving in, licking at every inch of your cunt.

She was messy with it, coating your inner thighs and her cheeks, eating you out with no reservations. Ellie kept moaning into your cunt, making you leak into her waiting mouth. She licked up every drop of slick she could get, her nose bumping against your clit as she licked at your entrance.

Ellie made you finish three times, stopping only when you pushed her head away from your sensitive pussy. She her face was soaked, covered in your cum and her cheeks flushed red as she finally came back to her senses. She let you catch your breath, but it prompted a very in depth conversation about sexual preferences and Ellie's unsurprising oral fixation.

And it's not only with literal oral! I already established she loves giving hickies but you know what she also loves? Boobs.

Sucks and nips and bites at your nipples, covers your tits in hickies, is overall a general titty menace. Pretty much every time y'all have sex, it ends with you having sore nipples and needing her to rub lotion on them

Also loves biting up your thighs! your tummy! your hips! your ass!

Ellie bites and kisses your calf when you're tribbing, send tweet. (this is a surprise tool) (for a later ask) (don't worry about it)

[softhairedhotch]

i stopped writing for a lil sorry y'all i got burnt out lol so here's this fic a few days late comfortember day nine: aftermath

aaron hotchner x male reader you and aaron pretend to be husbands to catch an unsub. word count: 3.1k content/warnings: fake dating, kissing, mentions of violence/weapons, pre-relationship, feeeelings comfortember masterlist here! also on ao3!

the waiter

“You sure you’re ready for this?” Aaron asks, tugging on the fancy blazer Dave had lent him. “We don’t have to do this, remember, there are other options.”

“Oh, yeah?” You reply, adjusting your tie. “And what would those be?”

“We can send Morgan and Reid in. Dave and Morgan? Reid and D–"

“Jesus. Are you sure you want to do this? Seems like you’re tryna find a way out, Hotch.”

He pauses and tilts his head at you. “I never said that. It’s just…”

“Just…?”

But before he can reply, Dave is knocking on the door and walking inside without waiting for a response. “You guys ready? The reservation is in 20 minutes and I know they’d prefer it if you were 5 minutes early.”

“We’re ready, yeah.”

“And I don’t have to remind you two how important it is to stay in character, do I? Pretend to be rich, pretend to be in love, pretend you’re celebrating your wedding anniversary, and everything should go according to plan.”

“Yes, sir!” You say sarcastically, saluting at Dave and laughing when he rolls his eyes. “You gotta trust us, we can do this.”

“Yeah, Dave, it’ll be a piece of cake.”

Dave nods with a smirk. “Sure it will.”

Aaron turns to you. "We can pretend to be in love, right?" 

"Right," you say, breath catching in your throat as you silently pray it’s not clear how much those words affect you. "'Course." 

You both miss the amused look Dave sends you.

Once you’re both dressed to perfection, Derek gives you your earpieces and sends you on your way to the restaurant. As you walk inside, Aaron’s large hand in yours, you keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. You feel out of place as you look around the lavish area, noting how the interior design is made mostly of red and gold to appear more inviting. A few people look at you as you pass by, offering you polite smiles which you return casually. Everyone is a suspect to you and you can’t help but feel on edge.

A sweet woman walks you to the table and Aaron pulls out your chair for you, pressing a gentle kiss against your temple as you smile and take the seat. It makes your stomach tighten and the woman giggles sweetly at the gesture before telling you the waiter will be with you shortly and leaving to greet another couple at the door. Aaron smiles and takes his seat across from you, looking as if he’s about to reach out for you but hesitating. It’s silent for a few moments before you laugh and stand up, moving your chair around the table to sit beside him. 

He raises an eyebrow at you, grinning; you can’t tell if it’s fake or not. “What are you doing?”

“Playing the part,” you reply with your own grin, resting your hand on his arm in a loving gesture. “Can’t exactly speak through subjects across a table when anyone can hear, can we?” A waiter smoothly walks by carrying a few trays and you squeeze Aaron’s wrist. “Shall we order wine too?”

“Of course, love,” Aaron replies, “if that’s what you want.”

Tonight’s going to be much harder than you thought.

After your far-too-expensive food and drinks get to the table, Aaron smiles at you, eyes bright and genuine, and your stomach twists. It feels real… too real. As you stare at him back with just as much love, mind going into overdrive, you catch sight of a man watching you from the back of the room with what can only be described as a sinister look. Before you can even think, you're leaning forward, pressing your lips against Aaron's cheek, and hearing his sharp inhale. "Man in red vest and blue shirt, twelve o'clock. Looks suspicious." 

You nuzzle your nose against Aaron's slightly as you wait for his response, feeling light-headed as the smell of him completely washes over you. "Right…" he breathes, looking completely dumbfounded for a moment before managing to regain his composure and putting on a casual smile, eyes still distant. His lips, to your surprise, find yours for a brief, chaste kiss. "I'll be right back."

He's standing up before you can say anything. This isn't part of the plan, you think to yourself, but there isn't much you can do other than sit politely and pick at your food as you wait for him to get back. 

Derek speaks over your earpiece, asking where Aaron's going as if you can answer, and you’re keeping an eye out for any suspicious activity when the waiter you pointed out before reaches your table. 

"Are you enjoying your food, sir?" He asks with a smile that doesn’t feel natural.

"Yes," you reply, smiling at him. "It's very good." 

"And is your…” he trails off, glancing down at your hand and smirking, “husband enjoying his food? I noticed he left; is something wrong?"

You feel a pit begin to grow in your gut as the man stares at you, confident and polite but with a dark glint in his eye. "No. He just went to the bathroom, he'll be back in a minute. Thank you for checking, though.”

“Of course, sir, I’ll leave you be.”

As he walks away, you keep an eye on him. He walks with a small limp, something that you had put in the profile a few days ago, and your heart hammers in your chest. “You think that’s him?” Derek asks over your earpiece. You pick up your fork with your left hand, a signal that tells him yes, you do, now get me outta here, and you hear him huff out a humourless laugh. “Okay, pretty boy. Just remain calm and enjoy the rest of your date with Hotch.”

“Rest of my–” you catch yourself saying before you can stop yourself, covering it up with a cough as someone glances at you.

“Mhm. You didn’t think we’d pull you out the moment we figured out who it was, did you? That’d be suspicious, man.” There’s a smirk obvious in his voice and he laughs. “Don’t have too much fun.”

And then it falls silent, Derek switching off his mic. You silently curse to yourself as Aaron takes a seat beside you. He gives you a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I didn’t realise I needed the bathroom until that moment.”

“Maybe you should slow down on the wine, yeah?”

His hand, already raising the almost empty glass of expensive wine to his lips, pauses and he gives you another sheepish smile. “Right. Yeah. Just…”

“Nervous?

Aaron blinks. “You could say that.” He picks up his fork and takes a small bite of food, looking awkward for another moment before his face completely changes and he gives you a smile, dimple and all, that has your heart hammering wildly in your chest. “This food’s really good.”

“That’s to be expected when the food’s this expensive.”

“That’s what you’d think but I once went to a gala that had these really expensive entrees that tasted… well, bad. And they gave me food poisoning for a week.”

“Really? Please tell me you took that week off from work.”

He grimaces. “I should have, but I didn’t. Wasn’t pleasant.”

“Oh, Aaron,” you sigh, reaching out to grab at his wrist. “You need to start taking care of yourself.”

“I know,” he mutters. “That’s what I have you for though, isn’t it?” He takes your hand in his and you feel the blush spread across your neck and cheeks at the warmth of it. Someone brushes past behind you and out of the corner of your eye you can tell it’s the unsub. Aaron gives you a look to tell you to play along, although you realise it wouldn’t take much convincing to have you in a situation like this with him in the first place. “I’m so glad I met you.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach. “Me too. You mean a lot to me, and I’m so glad I met you that day at…” you trail off, knowing you can’t say what you actually mean, even when you want to mention how you met on a murder case that ended up being the reason for your recruitment at the BAU. “At that park. If your dog hadn’t run up to mine…”

“I know,” he grins, biting his lip to stifle it. The waiter still dawdles behind you, acting as if he’s clearing the empty table nearby. “I guess we’ll forever have to thank Hazel for putting us together, huh?” 

“And Piper,” you reply, running your hand over his and smiling at him. Your stomach tightens when he leans close and laughs a sweet laugh. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves, though, sweetheart. We should eat our food before we start reminiscing on these past few years, hm?” 

“I guess you’re right,” he chuckles, moving back and leaving you suddenly cold. “I just like talking with you.”

“We’ll have many more years to talk in the future, honey.”

A soft laugh from behind you pulls you from the moment and you risk a glance to see the unsub walking away with a smirk on his face that makes your stomach churn. Instead of focusing on him, however, you turn back to your food and begin to eat, knowing that your team is there to keep watch.

After almost an hour of food, wine, small talk, laughter, and more wine, you and Aaron finally finish up with the date-not-date. You call for the bill and as you stand, Aaron trips over his feet and stumbles into you. Catching him in your arms easily, you can't help but laugh at him. 

"Don't laugh," he says, chuckling himself. "I'm just a little…" 

"Drunk?" 

He straightens up, placing one front in front of the other and immediately leaning back against you for support. "You could say that."

You smile at him, feeling your face flush at the closeness of his beside yours. Patting his firm chest twice, you begin to walk toward the doors. "Come on, honey, let's get you home, yeah?" 

"Mhm, wanna go home with you so bad." 

Your stomach drops at the 'admission'. As you tug him out of the door, thanking the man who holds it open for you, you can feel eyes on the back of your head. All the hairs on your neck and arms stand up and the familiar sense of danger curls deep in your stomach. Aaron follows your lead, arm slung lazily over your shoulder, rounding the corner with you. 

Once you're both out of sight of the restaurant and hidden away in an alleyway, Aaron pulls away from you and straightens up with ease. You feel cold at the loss of contact, instinctively wrapping your arms around yourself. 

"That went as well as it could have," Aaron says, suddenly sober and professional. "He should be coming after us anytime soon." 

"Right, yeah," you reply, before speaking into the mic attached to your shirt. "You got eyes on the unsub, Morgan?" 

"Seems he's making a sneaky escape out the back door," he replies, voice crackling over your earpiece. "He's heading your way now."

"Ready to win an oscar, Hotch?"

Aaron grimaces. "Don't." 

A smirk makes its way to your lips despite the dread pooling in your stomach. "You don't think this is gonna be fun?" 

Aaron pulls you close to him and wraps his arms around your waist. You gasp, looking up at him to see his eyes glued to your lips and he's flushed a pretty pink. "I never said that." 

"He's gonna be with you guys any second now," Derek says. “Get into position.”

Taking that as his cue, Aaron pushes you against the closest wall and leans in close, his lips hardly brushing yours. Your heart hammers wildly in your chest and all you want to do is close the gap but you can't. There's no need to kiss him when it looks like you already are from an outsider's perspective. But surely if you casually tilt your head as if to look over his shoulder and your lips happen to meet his… that'll be acceptable, right? It can be classed as a mistake, can't it? 

Before you can stop yourself, your lips are pressing against his and he's gasping into the kiss. Time seems to stretch on forever at that moment, your heart completely coming to a stop as your mind buzzes, and then he's pushing his mouth against yours in desperation. His lips are blindingly hot against yours and you feel like you might pass out then and there.

It's over the moment your heart starts beating again, Aaron pulling back and turning with his gun in hand and pointing it at the unsub all in one swift motion. Your own gun is in your hands due to pure instinct alone, pointing toward the man a few feet away with a terrifyingly large machete in hand. 

"FBI," Aaron says, voice sharp, "drop your weapon." 

"I wasn't gonna do anything, man," says the waiter, taking a few steps back in fear. "I was just…" 

You snort. "Taking your machete out for a walk?" 

Derek runs around the corner at that moment, the rest of the team following suit. They're quick to arrest the unsub, Emily carting him toward the cop car that rolls up beside the alleyway as Dave smirks at you and Aaron as if he knows something you don't. 

The next three hours are spent interviewing the waiter, confirming he's the serial killer, dealing with paperwork and press, and sending him to be locked away. It's a whirlwind of time that passes in what feels like seconds and soon enough you find yourself back at the hotel, unsure of what to do. 

You and the rest of the team are stuck in the state for the night and you feel restless. The night catches up to you and, despite being exhausted, you can't stop replaying every look and touch and word that you shared with Aaron. 

And the kiss. 

Fuck, the kiss. 

Feeling as though you should apologise, you're up and on your feet and out of your hotel room before you can think it through. You walk down the hallway, take a sharp left, and quickly find yourself nearing Aaron's hotel door. You raise your fist to knock but it's no use–the door is already opening and Aaron is standing there staring at you in surprise. 

"Hi," you say, feeling rather stupid. 

"Hello." 

The two of you stare at each other for a few seconds, unable to speak.

"We should talk, shouldn't we?" You finally supply. 

"Yes."

"Can I come in?" 

Aaron hesitates but only for a moment. "'Course." 

The moment the door closes behind the both of you and you're alone with him in the small room, you're suddenly aware of what could happen. Of what you want to happen. It makes you more nervous than you’d like to admit.

"I shouldn't have kissed you," you blurt out before you can chicken out. "That was… unprofessional." 

"It was," he replies bluntly. "Although I initiated it." 

"Well…" Yeah, you couldn't argue with that. "So… we good?" 

"Yeah," he breathes out, reaching out to shake your hand. "We are." 

You sigh in relief and take his hand in yours, smiling at him and thanking every star in the universe for not being put in his bad books. But as you shake his hand, feeling the warmth emanating from him, you're drawn closer and closer until you're standing so close you're sure your noses could brush against each other. 

"Hotch?" You ask, voice hardly a whisper.

"Hm?"

"Would it be stupid if we kissed again?" 

"Yes." 

"But we're going to, right?" 

"Yes." 

You press your lips against his immediately, feeling him melt against you as all tension dissipates from his body. His hands find your back, one sliding up and over your shoulder as the other rubs gentle circles over your shirt, and you wrap your arms around his neck. The kiss is soft and sweet but there's an underlying desperation to it, lighting your veins on fire. 

Aaron pulls back abruptly.  “We shouldn’t do this,” he whispers against your lips, large hands moving to hold your face close to his. He’s breathless, with a light blush on his cheeks, and his eyes are half-closed. “We… we shouldn’t.”

You press your lips against his again and he reciprocates immediately, pulling you back into him. “We should,” you say into the kiss. “What’s the harm?”

“I’m your boss. People will talk.”

“Then let them.”

"But–" 

"Aaron, if you try to make another excuse, I'll walk out and never bring this up again. I wanna kiss you, I don't wanna feel like you're not enjoying this as much as I am." 

That shuts him up immediately and his lips are back against yours with more ferocity and passion. His hands remain on your cheeks, holding you as if you might break.

"I've been wanting to do this forever," he mutters against your lips, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip. "Ever since I saw you take down Elliott Davies." 

"That was the second case we worked together." 

"I know." 

You laugh against his lips, kissing for a few moments longer before pulling back and smiling at him. "Is this really something you're interested in pursuing?" 

Aaron seems to struggle to process the question for a moment, eyes glazing over as he thinks, but he eventually gives you one of his rare smiles, dimples and all. "Yeah, it is."

"Even though you'll have to do a bunch of paperwork?" 

He exhales dramatically, resting his forehead against yours even as he pretends to be annoyed. "Never mind, no longer interested. Already have enough of that to last me a lifetime."

"What if I told you I'd split it with you?" 

"Would you really?" 

"Well… no, but–" 

"I thought we were having a romantic moment there," he pouts, his eyes sparkling as he laughs.

"But I would. If I meant I could spend more time with you." 

"Oh, there we go," he whispers, grinning as he kisses you again. "That's what I like to hear." 

"Paperwork is only fun when you're with someone else, yeah?" 

"Exactly," he nods, kissing you again. And again. And once more for good measure. "Now, what say we get some rest and pick this back up in the morning once we're home and rested up? We can discuss it all officially then." 

"That sounds nice. I hope you mean over coffee though, and not over paperwork." 

He laughs. "What about coffee and paperwork?" 

You drop your head on his shoulder with a groan, shoulders shaking as you begin to laugh. He laughs along with you and soon enough the two of you are unable to stop laughing. 

"Who would have thought this would be the aftermath of catching a serial killer?" You ask. 

"Hm, I don't know," he shrugs, "it's passed my mind a few times." 

"As well as dealing with paperwork together?" 

He laughs. "Wouldn't wanna do anything else." 

tag list: @criminalskies @hotchs-big-hands

[queer-overwatch]

HI can I get uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Venture sticking up for their S/O who's being picked on because they're just a lil bit chubby.............................. fem or gender neutral S/O preferably!!! I need some protective Venture!!! 😭

Also have fun writing!!!!!!!! I hope y'all get lots of requests!!!!!!!!!

- venturelovebot

Protective Venture

Aaaa ty sm for the request!!!! Both of us follow u so we were kinda like "HOLY SHIT" when we saw you send an ask sdikfv d -Frisk

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bro would 100% beat someones ASS for making fun of you

they know what its like to be picked on! They got a chipped tooth and some of their colleagues make fun of it sometimes, so they are SO pissed if they find out someone's been making fun of you too

They're mad, but their first priority is making sure you're okay, they'll deal with those jerks later >:C

If it happens often, they'll plan a nice little date night and buy you some nice ass clothes that show off your curves because they love you and want you to be confident! And also want to rub how pretty you are in the faces of anyone making fun of you-

Would absolutely be the type of partner to squeeze your tummy, just a lil, they can't help it! They love someone with a lil shape to em <3

After your date they 100% go fuck with whoever was teasing you, they have so many cursed artifacts and will absolutely just slide one into where ever the person messing with you is most to scare the shit out of them and also hopefully get them haunted

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(blurb written by Xorn <3)

The day has been great, you and Venture having a nice walk around the dig site, that was until you passed some coworkers. Unfortunately you'd heard a bit of a ranking they had going on; the hottest body on site, you heard a couple comments about how your body wasn't particularly favorable. Thankfully Venture had verbally torn your coworkers a new one. But it left you a bit distressed and distracted for the rest of the day. On the way home you fiddled with the belt loop of your pants sighing as you and Venture listened to music on your way back to home. Venture glanced over at you tilting their head briefly before focusing on the road. "Cariño mío , what's wrong? Did what those jerks say earlier get to you?" They huffed a little upset at the thought of you being upset. Especially over something that made you so beautiful to them. "A little, I don't really feel all that great about it though, I thought I would after we started working again but not really" You sighed looking over toward them as you tugged at your shirt, a light attempt to get it to stop hugging the curves around your stomach and sides. "(Y/n), You're perfect. You know what, Surprise date night! We're going out just to prove those fuckers wrong!" They grin, they're all too familiar but oh so cute , chipped tooth front and center in their smile. As you get home they usher you to the bedroom telling you to put on your nicest clothes. As you prepare yourself, still not all too confident in what they might be planning . However when you walked down you caught them in the act of making the living room look rather fancy. The moment they noticed you they scrambled for a fake rose and biting down on it to imitate a romantic man as they leaned on the couch. "Mi amor-" They started though they couldn't fully get it out as they began snickering and laughing at their own actions "-(Y/n) would you do me the honor of eating takeout and watching Prince of Egypt with me?" You couldn't help but chuckle, making your way to the couch as you cupped their cheeks. "Of course I would, thank you" You muttered as they pulled you to the couch, happily settling in beside you as they lightly played with your tummy. "I'll say it again , you're perfect! Like a hidden geode, no one knows how good you are until they've gotten to know you inside and out !"

[modern-vellichor]

hi! i’d love it if you could write adrian chase/vigilante x reader(fem or gn if you prefer!) where they are quite hard faced and irritable with the other members of 11th Street Kids, but with Adrian they are quite soft and show they actually care for him, laugh at his awkwardness etc. basically a different person than the way they are with the others. ty!

im so good to y'all. i have genuinely no idea when this was sent to me but I'm back baby.

masterlist // send a request

"Fuck off," you said to Peacemaker.

Waller had promised that this was your last job. And you made sure she meant it. This was nothing more than community service. You did as little as possible with these shitheads. You sat in a van with Economos during missions, you never said a word unless absolutely necessary. You avoided Murn like the plague. You never accepted Harcourt's invitations to drinks. You always rejected Peacemaker's various advances (it's not like you would say yes in any other situation.) Even Adebayo, who was the most tolerable on the squad, always found a way to get on your nerves, usually with unwanted (but not unhelpful) advice. In spite of this, there was one person who just made your heart melt.

Sweet little Vigilante. So stupid, so blind and deaf and dumb. So sweet. Sure, he was a bit dopey. He had no brain-to-mouth filter whatsoever. He was extremely violent. He was a bit creepy. But you had a soft spot for him. There was something about his puppy dog eyes, or his dumbstruck smile that turned you into a gushy, weeping, puddle. He was just plain neat.

The others noticed, of course they did. You turned into this sweet, gushing mess around the idiot. You placed gentle hands on his cheeks, you listened to his god awful rants with a soft smile, you helped him with whatever he wanted.

Adrian didn't notice, obvious. He was oblivious to your gentleness towards him. In his heart, he knew he loved you but you were so scary. You were so mean to all the other agents, even Peacemaker! Despite this he tailed after you like a lost puppy, or an imprinted duckling. And you let him. If he ever gained the nerve to reach out to caress your arm, or your hand, or if he ever reached for your knives or your guns, you didn't push him away like you would have anyone else.

Maybe one day he'd realize how soft you truly were, maybe he'd ask you out. But for now, he'd secretly admire you, even blood-soaked, battered and beaten, and pretend you were nothing more than a favoured coworker.

[fluentmoviequoter]

The Freak and The Princess (II)

Summary: Eddie lets you walk by during his rant in the cafeteria, stumped by your quietness and manners toward the town freak. He then decides to be the perfect gentlemen. [Part 2/5] 1.7k+ Words

Warnings: blood and stitches, flirty best friend Steve Harrington?, but other than that none that I know of!

A/N: Thank you so much for all the love y'all showed Part 1! I feel like I should call this Part 1.5 because Eddie isn't in much of it but it is setup for an eventful Part 3. (Apologies for any inconsistencies in the formatting, I’m uploading from the mobile app and I'm planning to review it later.) I edited this and proofread it, but please point out any errors or things that you like! And please send requests; all the characters I write for are under my tag #characters! Hope you enjoy! :) Part I

The Freak and The Princess

Part Two: More of a Prince

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Eddie said, opening the door of his van for me.

“Eddie, you really don’t have to drive me to school every day. It’s a 10-minute walk, I can manage.”

“I’m sure you can, but I’d prefer knowing you’re safe,” he said, more serious than I’d heard before.

“Thanks. For chauffeuring me everywhere and for the milkshakes.”

“Anything for you, princess.”

He waited until I was safe inside to pull out, waving as he drove away. I put my things away and collapsed on my bed, groaning as my phone rang.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Hey, babe. We have a slight problem. Are you busy?” Steve asked, slightly out of breath.

“Russian soldiers slight or Dustin fell off his bike slight?” I questioned, sitting up.

“The second one. There was an accident and there is a lot of blood, and I don’t really know what to do.”

“Where are you?”

“Hawkins High. Back parking lot. Thank you,” he said before hanging up.

“What did you get into, Steve Harrington?” I whispered as I grabbed my purse and started running toward the school. I turned the corner into the back lot, seeing Dustin and Lucas lying on the blacktop, laughing weakly.

“Steve?” I called as I approached.

“Oh, thank you,” he mumbled, jogging toward me. “They were playing some game and got spooked by something, I think? They won’t really tell me what happened, and they won’t let me take them to the hospital.”

I nodded, handing him my bag and kneeling by them. I noticed that most of Dustin's blood was from a gash below his hairline.

“Steve, I need something to stop the bleeding. Is there any cloth in my purse?” I heard him open it before handing me a white shirt. “Sorry, Eddie,” I thought before pushing it against Dustin’s head. “Hold this here, keep firm pressure,” I instructed Dustin before turning to Lucas. “Where are you hurt?”

He held up his arm, a deep cut spanning his forearm.

“Steve?” I asked, looking up at him. “He needs stitches.”

“No hospitals!” Dustin and Lucas yelled.

“Fine, fine,” I said, thinking. “Can you get us into the school, Steve?”

“Let me go check the doors. If they’re locked, I can’t, not without breaking in anyway,” he said before running toward the building.

“What happened?” I asked Dustin.

“You can’t tell Steve,” he said. I nodded, and he started talking again, “We were playing a new game that Eddie showed us, I don't remember the name of it. Neither one of us realized Jason and his goons were here until they came out and started hitting us.”

“Jason Carver did this?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Lucas said slowly, watching me from the corner of his eye.

I clenched my jaw, looking back to the building to see Steve running back, shaking his head.

“I have the stuff to do it at my place, can you drive them?” I asked.

Steve nodded, helping Dustin up and into the car as I did the same with Lucas. I had one side of my shirt pressed against his arm to stop the bleeding.

“Dustin gets shotgun,” I said, climbing into the back with Lucas to keep pressure on his cut. His blinks were getting heavy. “Stay awake, Lucas, talk to me about your D&D Campaign, basketball, anything.”

He launched into a speech about the current campaign, not stopping until we got to my house and climbed out of the car. We got them into the house and sat them down at the dining table.

“Steve, get towels and the first aid kit. Both are in the closet in the hallway,” I instructed.

He returned quickly with the first aid kit and a handful of towels. He pressed one of the towels against Dustin’s head, tossing the Hellfire shirt into the kitchen sink. I laid a towel under Lucas’s arm, pulling the alcohol and stitching supplies from the first aid kit.

“This is going to hurt, Lucas,” I said gently, kneeling beside him, “if you feel like you’re going to pass out, don’t fight it, ok?”

He nodded, and I poured the alcohol on his arm, grimacing as he yelled in pain. I started the stitches, noticing that he lost consciousness after the fourth one.

“Dustin, stay awake, man,” Steve said to Dustin. “What does he need? The bleeding stopped.”

“I don’t think he has a concussion, but we need to be careful. Just put a bandage on his head and we’ll keep an eye on him. If he falls asleep, just make sure to check on him and wake him every hour or so.”

Steve placed a bandage on Dustin’s head, tossing two bloody towels into the sink. He helped Dustin to the couch before filling the sink with cold water and hydrogen peroxide. I put the last stitch in Lucas’s arm, the twelfth one. I replaced the towel under his arm with a clean one before wiping off the excess blood and wrapping it. Steve carried him to the couch before coming back to the dining room.

“Thank you,” he said, picking up the loose first aid kit supplies and placing them back in the box.

“Of course. Glad they’re ok.”

“Mind if we crash here tonight? I’ll take them home first thing in the morning.”

“That’s fine. You can take the guest room if you want.”

Steve nodded, thanking me again. The doorbell rang, and I looked at Steve, who shrugged and followed me to the door. I looked through the peephole, relaxing before pulling the door open.

“Whoa! What happened?” Eddie asked as he saw me, stepping across the threshold and gently grabbing my face.

“Dustin and Lucas got hurt,” I whispered, tilting my head toward the couch. He looked over, saw the bandages littering their bodies, then saw Steve standing behind me.

“You ok, man?” Eddie asked him, pulling away from me and closing the door.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Wish I’d been there when they got hurt. They won’t tell me what happened. I’m gonna head to bed though, we’ll be out of here first thing.” He walked down the hall, and Eddie turned his attention to me again.

“Let’s get you cleaned up?” He phrased it as a question, giving me an out.

I nodded as I grabbed his hand and led him to my bedroom and attached bathroom.

“Swanky digs,” he said as I grabbed some clothes and set them on the vanity top. He grabbed a washcloth and a bar of soap from my shower, setting them by the sink. “You change, and wash any blood off your skin, then let me know when you’re done.”

I stepped into the bathroom, pulling the bloody clothes off and washing with the washcloth as I went. I opened the door, carrying my bloody clothes to the kitchen and adding them to the sink. Returning to my room, Eddie was sitting on my bed, his boots and jacket discarded by my window.

“C’mere,” he said, holding his arms out. I climbed onto the bed and fell into his arms. “You alright, princess?”

“Not really,” I whispered. “It could’ve been so much worse.”

“But it wasn’t, because you and Steve were there,” he said, hugging me and rubbing my back.

“Why’d you come back?” I asked, voice muffled by Eddie’s shirt where I had my face buried in his chest.

“You left your history binder in my van. I’m assuming you’re not going to do your homework though?”

I laughed, shaking my head and cuddling closer to Eddie.

“Can I stay here tonight?” he asked. I nodded against him, and he moved to lie down, pulling me to lie beside him, tucked into his side.

“Are you ok? You seem- I don’t know,” I shrugged at the end, failing to find the right word.

“Post-terrified? ‘Cause that’s exactly how I feel. When you opened that door covered in blood, I swear my heart stopped.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, princess. I didn’t know what was happening and I was scared, that’s not your fault.”

We lay in silence for a few minutes until Eddie asked, “Wanna skip school tomorrow? Get a long weekend?” I shook my head, already planning what I was going to do to Carver tomorrow. “It’s really late, I don’t think you should go. We all could use a day,” he said, pushing a piece of hair behind my ear. I finally nodded, wrapping my arms around him and trusting he was right. “Get some sleep, princess,” he said, kissing my temple before I drifted off.

I woke up to someone knocking on my door. I wiggled out of Eddie’s arms, opened the door, and saw Dustin standing there.

“Thanks for your help. We’ll see you at Hellfire, right?”

I nodded as Steve came up behind him.

“Go get in the car, Dustin. Thanks again for last night. I called Keith and got us both the night off,” Steve said as he pushed Dustin towards the door.

I smiled my thanks and hugged him before he walked out at the sound of his horn honking. “I’m coming, you little buttheads!”

I turned around to return to bed and saw Eddie smiling at me.

“Have I ever told you you’re a really pretty princess?” he asked, morning voice in full effect.

I fought a losing battle against my ever-growing smile and shook my head as I sat back down.

“Well, you are. Pretty, gorgeous, breathtaking, the list continues.” I turned and hid my face in his shoulder. I felt his shoulder move as he laughed, his hand rubbing circles on my back. I spoke quietly into his shoulder, even though I knew he couldn’t hear me.

“What was that, princess?” he asked, gently lifting my chin with his ring-clad fingers.

“I said, you’re more of a prince than you realize,” I repeated quietly.

A huge grin broke out across Eddie’s face. He pulled me into a hug, collapsing on top of me. “You are something special, princess.”

We spent the day together reading, watching movies, listening to music, and eating most of the snacks I had in the top cabinet, hidden from Dustin. When he went home at the end of the day, my focus shifted entirely to Jason Carver and how I would make him pay.

Taglist: @loonalockley @paleidiot @kimmi-kat

[lurkingshan]

Hi....If you don't mind, can I ask, what are your top 10 (or top 7) favorite media (can be books/ manga/ anime/movies/tv series)? Why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before......Thanks....

Thank you for the ask, I don't mind a bit! Though I will say that this particular question sent me into a minor existential crisis, because how on earth could I ever pick just 10 things that I love across all media. I don't know if y'all have picked this up about me yet, but I consume vast amounts of media, like...unbelievable amounts of media, it is my great joy in life. I consulted @bengiyo about how to approach this question, and he suggested a frame to help narrow it down: what are my favorites that someone else recommended to me, that I then felt compelled to recommend to others? Hope you don't mind the tweak! As always, keeping this in the realm of Asian media for this blog, here is what I got:

What Did You Eat Yesterday?

When I met @bengiyo and @waitmyturtles I learned very quickly that this was their all-time favorite, and if I didn't like it we were gonna have a problem (jk but not really). I hadn't watched it on my own because until recently (shoutout to our savior Gagaoolala) it was quite inaccessible and I hadn't yet stumbled onto @isaksbestpillow and found her amazing subs. Luckily, I have impeccable taste and WDYEY is in fact a masterpiece, so they watched me watch it, I lost my mind over how unique and brilliant and technically flawless it was, and we are now all bonded for life over our love for this show, which just returned for a second season and will hopefully continue forever. I love it so much I have even started reading the manga, and I am not a manga girlie by nature (I prefer reading prose), so you can be assured I absolutely will not be shutting up about it anytime soon.

Go Ahead

Credit for this one goes to @ginnymoonbeam for watching it first and then sending up a flare for me as a fellow cdrama enjoyer that this one was worth prioritizing immediately. I love big sprawling family stories that unfold over time, I love digging into intergenerational family trauma, I love good dad characters, I love found family dynamics, and I love a well done romance subplot embedded in a much bigger story, so this show hit so many of my sweet spots. It's #1 on my list of modern cdramas and I would recommend it to anyone.

Mo Dao Zu Shi/The Untamed

Speaking of cdramas, I must give a shoutout to @dangermousie who wrote this post summarizing their favorite danmei novels, which I found when I went looking for recommendations and was trying to figure out a way into this segment of Asian media. I admit I am a bit bougie about my reading material and modality, so I really can't deal with machine translations or reading on html pages, and thus I still have not read some of these as I am patiently waiting for official English translations to become available (me and 2HA are gonna have a party in 2024 I tell you what). I had already heard of The Untamed, of course, because I am a human person who lurks in online spaces, but reading the novel got me significantly more interested, and I quickly fell down a months long rabbit hole that included consuming the novel, the show, and copious amounts of fanfiction. This story is so complex and layered and full of fun mysteries and meaty moral quandaries and interesting family relationships and has an A+ second chance romance and one of my all time favorite characters to boot; it really took over my brain for a minute. And while it hardly needs me to recommend it given how popular it already is, I'm still gonna do it whenever I get the chance.

Mo Du/Silent Reading

And while we're on the subject of danmei, let me give a shoutout to my favorite modern danmei novel, which was recommended to me by an IRL friend who is not on tumblr. Mo Du is a sprawling mystery novel that spans five major interconnected cases, and it centers on an exceedingly competent police captain, Luo Wenzhou, and a young business heir/super genius, Fei Du, who start out with an adversarial relationship (but I bet you can guess what happens next!). The crime stories in this are almost shockingly intricate and every detail comes together in the end without a single loose end, which is impressive enough on its own, but somehow the author (Priest, who some of you will know as the writer of Faraway Wanderers aka Word of Honor) manages to also write a perfectly paced, incredibly compelling love story between the two leads that is layered with complex trauma and psychological hot buttons and secrets and lies that unfold organically alongside the mystery. I am in the middle of re-reading it right now and my love for it only grows stronger. The gif above is from a recent attempt to adapt this into a live-action drama that got quickly canceled, but honestly, the less said about that, the better (though Zhang Xin Cheng will absolutely remain the Fei Du of my heart). With China's censorship laws, there will be no faithful live action version of this story, so I highly recommend reading the novel.

Pachinko

While we're on the subject of novels, I must mention another IRL friend recommendation: Pachinko. This one is a sprawling multi-generational family historical fiction epic that tracks the lives of a Korean family that is forced to migrate to Japan during Japanese occupation in the early 20th Century. Y'all, this book is amazing, and it has now been turned into a television show airing on Hulu that is also quite good (though structured quite differently, but that's another post). I learned a ton of real history in the course of reading this, and I found the journey of Sunja and her family so compelling. The book has a real intersectional lens and digs deep into themes of oppression, racism, class disparity, and sexism, and is rooted in Korean values around filial piety, respect for hard work, religion, moral condemnation, and of course, the importance of food to communicate.

The Great Indian Kitchen

Switching gears, let me give a shoutout to this Indian film that my bestie @neuroticbookworm recently recommended to me and @waitmyturtles. This film is about a modern young woman who enters an arranged marriage with a family of high status (though maybe not of the kind you think) and explores her experience of oppression as a woman in a very patriarchal religious setting. The story is really compelling, I learned about a common experience for women in India, the narrative ended in an unexpected place (in a good way), and I really enjoyed the watch. And this film is on YouTube with good subs which I linked above, so it's quite accessible.

Be Melodramatic

Let's get back to dramas, shall we? I credit this one to @kdramaxoxo, who recommends Be Melodramatic constantly, and thank goodness because otherwise this under appreciated gem would have never landed on my radar. This is a beautiful story about a group of friends who move in together in the wake of personal tragedy and tracks their progress as they heal and move on from their hardships. The themes of grief and growth and change are quite poignant, the relationships, both platonic and romantic, are all very compelling, and the music is beautiful. If you haven't seen it yet, what are you waiting for (@nieves-de-sugui this is definitely a good one to add to your list).

Make it Right

Time for @bengiyo to get another shoutout. This is a Thai bl classic that doesn't get the love it deserves, and he is its number one promoter. I don't know when I would have gotten around to watching this if he hadn't recommended it so highly, and I'm so glad I did. I wrote about this one, why I loved it, and why I think it's under appreciated, and I highly encourage others to give it a try.

Coffee Prince

We will end on an OG kdrama classic, which I watched early on in my kdrama journey thanks to a recommendation from an IRL friend who said it was the best version of the well worn Asian drama genderbend trope that they had ever seen, and my god were they right. Not only was this my first Gong Yoo drama (a life changing experience in and of itself) but this one really took me by surprise for how sharp and progressive it was about gender fluidity, sexual identity, and the struggle toward self-acceptance way back when it aired in 2007. I recommend this one to everyone, and its a great entry point for people who prefer queer media and have (justified) suspicion of mainstream kdrama's treatment of queer narratives.

[giggly-squiggily]

Caught In The Smoke (My Hero Academia)

Heyo! I wrote this little ol' fic for the wonderful @cupcake-spice13 a while back and- much like the fic from earlier this week- forgot to post it! Hehe, it's been one of those weeks y'all. Anywho- I hope y'all like it! :D

CW: Swearing

Summary: Dabi finds Hawks during a fight for a quick chat. In the process of that, he discovers something quite interesting about the bird man.

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@myreygn @thatbigbisexual29 @duckymcdoorknob @baby-tickles2022 @backy-san @nutzgunray-lvt @sarahmaystock5578 @rachi-roo

“No! Nohoohohohohoho, wait plhehehehhehhahhhhse!”

“Aww, can’t take it, birdy?” Dabi’s voice was a low rumble, close enough to his ear so no one else could hear him. “Such a proud hero, taken down by a few flicks of my fingers. Come on birdie, sing me a song~”

~~20 Minutes Earlier~~

“Hawks, MOVE!” Endeavor called out, the only warning the Number 2 hero received before a flaming tin soared their way. With a leap and shout, Hawks was in the air, just narrowly avoiding the explosion that followed. His vision was filled with smoke tinged with blue, choking his lungs and making his eyes water. 

“Shit- Endeavor? Endeavor, where are you?” Hawks yelled, trying to find a beacon of red among the smoke. There was the faint sound of screaming- civilians. He needed to get to them- he needed to help them escape-

“Where are you going, birdy?” A new voice purred from behind. Hawks twisted- finding none other than Dabi standing among the smoke. “Surely you aren’t planning on running away so soon?”

“Miss me already?” Hawks pulled out a sword of feathers, readying the blade. “And here I had the impression you didn’t like me that much.” He shot forward, sliding under a blaze of flames that Dabi released. The sword caught fire almost immediately, burning into a crisp before fading into ash. Alright- no weapons then. We’re doing this barehanded.

“Possibly.” Dabi’s lips pulled into a grin as he evaded Hawk’s various attacks, dodging flying kicks and fists. “Figured since I was in the area I might as well surprise you.”

“You really shouldn’t have.” Hawks ducked down to kick his feet out- but the clog of smoke was thick, and his swipe was too short. “Most people prefer flowers as their surprise- not exploding tins of oil.”

“Good thing we’re not most people.” Dabi grabbed his ankle, yanking once. Hawks slipped, his hands scraping into gravel and cooling tar as the flame-villain dragged him over. “Come here, Birdie. We’ve got quite a bit to talk about.”

“Flattered, but I’d prefer candlelight dinner to this.” Hawks twisted to his belly, readying his wings. A flick of them will send the gust away- giving Endeavor the chance he needed to attack. “Why don’t you ask me on a proper date next time, eh Hot Stuff?”

“Now now- what’s the rush?” Dabi’s hand shot down to Hawk’s wings, pushing down slightly. “Ready to leave so soon-”

“EEH!”

Both of them paused. It suddenly seemed like the chaos around them faded away as they both took in the sound Hawks let out. Dabi blinked, eyes wide. Hawks felt his face burn.

“Oh wow.” Dabi finally spoke, something sly and mischievous in his tone. “What do we have here?”

“N-Nothing!” Hawks yelped trying to wiggle forward, but a knee to his lower back kept him there. “Nothing at all! St-Stay back!”

“Nothing? Then why do you sound so nervous?” Dabi teased softly, his voice close as fingers began slowly walking up Hawks spine, starting at the curve of his hips to the dreaded spot between his shoulder blades; just where the base of his wings sat. “I think you’re hiding something from me birdie; and you know how I get when secrets are brought up.”

“This is hahahrdly the time for that!” Hawks barely held back a giggle when the fingers against his back rested directly between his wings, tapping softly. “Leheheht me up, we chahan talk about it lahahhater!”

“Hm…no. I wanna talk about it now.” Dabi smirked. “Come on, let’s see just how ticklish you really are.”

~~Current Time~~

Endeavor wheezed around the thick fog of smoke, waving it away from his vision as he searched for Hawks. He heard him yell out, he couldn’t be that far. “Hawks! Hawks were are-”

“EEEH!”

The high pitched noise made him freeze, spinning on his heels. That was Hawks for sure- did he get hurt in the explosion? The civilians were escorted out- it had to be him. He charged forward. “HAWKS-”

What he witnessed left him speechless.

“Ahehahahahhaha! Nohoohohohoho! Nohooohohh, sthahahhahaap ihihihihihihit!” Hawks was on the ground, kicking and flailing like a child having a tantrum. Above him sat a figure, his face hidden by the smoke. What wasn’t hidden was his hands, currently massaging the space between the Pro-Hero’s wings like a trained masseuse. “Geheheheheht oohohohoohohff!”

What the actual- Endeavor blinked, shaking his head. Was this person a villain? Were they the cause of all this? And if so…why tickling? Was he trying to get information?

He should run over there- swat away this supposed tickle villain; capture him for interrogation. That’s what a number 1 hero does, right?

And yet…seeing Hawks on the ground laughing so hard, his face red as a beet and cheeks dimpled…it was an oddly wholesome sight. Satisfying even, given how Hawks was constantly finding ways to get under his skin. He hoped the smoke hid his grin as he shook his head; amazed by the sight.

Hawks eyes shot to him, widening some when they met Endeavors. “Yohoohhoohohhou! Nohohoohohho, lohoohohoohohohk aawhhahhahahahhahy!” He cried, face flushing an even deeper shade of red. He tried to hide his face, but this mysterious attacker dug their hands into his armpits, making him arch with a squeal. “ENDHEHEHEHEHVOR HEHEHHEELP!”

Snapping out of his reverie, Endeavor nodded. Right- middle of a fight. He shot his arms out, sending a burst of fire overhead.

~~~

“Shows over. Gotta go, Birdie.” Dabi, watching the smoke start to fade, smirked down at the giggly hero. In a rare show of fondness, he leaned forward, kissing the top of Hawk’s head before climbing off. “Find me later.”

The smoke cleared, leaving Hawks lying across the pavement with the ghost of Dabi’s lips against his hair. He winced when Endeavor’s feet came to view, slowly peeking up at him with a flushed face. “Dohoohhn’t say…a woohohohrd.”

Endeavor, to his credit, stayed silent. Even if his lips were twitching with restrained mirth. Even when he averted his gaze to hide a chuckle with a stern cough. Even as he helped Hawks up to his feet, his hand “accidentally” brushed against his wings, making him jump with a squeak.

“Are you a-alright?” He grunted, taking a short breath. Hawks glared, hoping it would hide his mortification. “Not hurt?”

“Besides my ego? Nah. Though these are gonna sting.” He held up his hands, wincing at the red lashes against his skin. “Is there any way we can leave out…that?”

“I’ll just say you were unconscious due to the smoke.” Endeavor concluded as they made their way back to their randevu point. “On one condition- you stop making dumb jokes about me for the next few weeks.”

“What?...Okay fine.” Hawks gave in, wings tucked firmly against his back. “Hey erm…thanks, Enji.”

“Anytime.”

Thanks for reading!

[campingwiththecharmings]

Under the Neon Lights

AN: Y'all can thank Carrie Underwood for this one lol. Little to no plot here, negl.

(Un-beta'd)

You never do this, never have one night stands with strangers. Somehow, though, this guy doesn’t feel like a stranger…but you think maybe that’s just because he’s pretty and you're a little tipsy. Oh well. What happens here, stays here, right?

Rated: M+ (this is smut so, i mean, you’ve been warned?) Words: 6,239 (idek y'all) Pairing: Santiago "Pope" Garcia x F!Reader Warnings: cursing, kissing, alcohol consumption, one night stand, p in v, oral sex, a ridiculous amount of eyefucking; santiago garcia comes with his own warning. AO3

——————

You’re drunk.

Or at least, you assume you are, because you haven’t felt this good in months. You’d flown to Vegas last week for work, your company sending you there to “handle things” after merging with another company, and it…hadn’t gone very well.

Needless to say, it’s been a tough week, and having a few drinks and getting sweaty on the dancefloor with some strangers seemed like the perfect way to blow off some steam before you have to fly home tomorrow. You’ve been dancing for what feels like hours, having the time of your life despite the fact that your feet were killing you (stupid heels). 

The song changes to something slower, but you don’t let it stop you, your arms in the air, hips swaying to the beat. Your rhythm stutters a little when you feel someone at your back, and warm hands at your waist. You’re about to stop whoever this is and tell them that you’re not interested, that you’d prefer to dance alone, but when you turn your head to do so, you lock eyes with the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen in your life.

His dark brown eyes are warm and soulful, and a part of you never wants to stop gazing into them. He smiles, leaning in so he can tell you his name (Santiago). Your body melts against his at the sound of his voice in your ear, his stubble scratching against your cheek as you lean closer to him. His hands on your waist slide down to your hips and halt there as he gently starts to sway with you in time with the music.

“Dance with me?” he rasps, lips brushing your ear.

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest as he presses himself against you. He takes control, moving you this way and that, hands never leaving your body for more than a second, like he doesn’t want to stop touching you, like he can’t. He’s everywhere—hands on your hips, nose nudging the back of your ear, every solid inch of him pressing along the length of you, surrounding you—but it’s still not enough. You want more, want to smell him, taste him—

Your breath hitches as he drags his lips down the side of your neck, goosebumps rising in their wake. He halts near your shoulder, pressing an open-mouthed kiss into your skin. You moan, your hands reaching back to tangle in his hair. He holds you against him as you continue to sway. You can feel him, half hard against your ass, and you can’t help but grind back into him. His chest rumbles against your back as he groans, fingers pulling at you so you’re flush against him. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear as he ruts against you, making your knees weak, and every time he calls you ‘baby,’ or some other beautiful-sounding thing in what must be Spanish, your core clenches, desperate for something (him) to fill it. 

You’re not used to this kind of attention, not from someone like him, anyway. Where had this beautiful stranger even come from? You wonder briefly if he’s prostitute (that is legal here, after all), are afraid that once he has you all horny and desperate, he’ll stop and demand payment to continue (payment you’ll happily give if he fucks anything like he dances). You should probably ask, should probably make sure, but God he just feels so good you don’t want it to end. Hell, you’d probably fuck him right here on the dance floor if he asked you to.

But it does end, the music petering out briefly before transitioning into something with a quicker beat. You expect him to pull away, but he doesn’t, hands still on your hips as you continue to move slowly, no longer in time with the music. His lips find your neck again, sucking a mark there, tongue soothing the welt immediately as you practically writhe against him.

When he does finally pull away, your heart drops, disappointment settling in your belly. When you turn though, he’s smiling at you, eyes dark and rich with promise as he takes your hand and leads you off of the dance floor. You’re not really paying attention to where he’s going, eyes too busy drinking him in (with his hands and those curls and that ass—). He stops just shy of the bar, hand on your hip as he leans in to ask you what you’re having, his nose bumping against your cheek. You tell him, leaning in close enough for your lips to brush against his ear, smiling when the fingers on your hip clench slightly.

Nice to know you’re having an effect on him too.

The two of you wind up in the back of the club, tucked into a booth with two empty glasses and a half-drunk bottle of liquor. It’s still hard to hear, even all the way back here, so you’re both in each other’s space, sharing each other’s breath as you talk. It’s like some weird game of chicken, both of you waiting with bated breath to see who’ll cave first, who’ll give in and lean that extra few inches, giving you both what you want. 

In the end, it’s him, his mouth claiming yours as he presses you back against the wall of the booth, hand gently cradling your face as he licks into your mouth. You moan, fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. The angle’s a little awkward, your body slightly twisted as your feet remain mostly on the floor, head turned and tilted to accommodate the assault on your lips. He’s not much better off, one arm braced on the back of the bench, his body practically hovering over yours so he doesn’t crush you with his weight. Still though, it’s the best kiss you’ve had in a long time.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asks when you both break for air, the space between you filling with your respective panting breaths.

“God, yes,” you sigh, your skin heating a little when you realize how desperate you must sound.

He chuckles at your eagerness, smiling in a way that assures you that his amusement is not at your expense as he slides out of the booth. You giggle when he holds out his hand, sliding yourself over to grasp it as he helps you stand to your feet; if you weren’t drunk before, you definitely are now.

He puts his arm around your waist, tucking you against his side as he leads you out of the club. You stumble a little as you make your way through the parking lot, the combination of your heels and the alcohol in your system throwing you a little off balance. Santiago steadies you, pausing for a moment as you find you regain your footing.

“You okay?” he asks, and you're still sober enough to know he’s asking if you still want to do this, still want to leave with him.

“Mhmm,” you hum, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips. 

He kisses you back for a moment before gently pushing you back with a soft smile that makes your insides melt. “You sure, querida?”

God, he’s pretty. So pretty. Warm brown eyes framed by long, dark lashes, soft lips you could kiss for hours, salt and pepper curls you can’t wait to dig your fingers into—

“I’m sure,” you breathe, mouth hovering over his.

Swallowing thickly, he nods, moving you both in the direction of a truck parked close by. “Come on.”

When he unlocks and opens the passenger side door, you kiss him again, fingers fisting in the fabric of his shirt as you haul him against you. He grunts in surprise before pushing you against the side of the car with a sigh, hands sliding down from your waist to cup your backside. You can feel him through his jeans, his cock pressing against your abdomen as he pulls your hips against his, breath hitching as he licks into your mouth. 

The need for air makes you separate and you press your forehead against his as you try to catch your breath. That dark, promising look is in his eyes again, the one that says he wants to devour you, swallow you whole; it sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

“If we don’t leave now,” he rasps, nuzzling your nose with his. “We’re gonna end up fucking right here in the backseat of this truck.”

You stifle a groan at his words, chewing on your bottom lip. “I’m not so sure I’d be opposed to that.”

His chuckle is dark, deep, rumbling against your chest as he leans in, pressing his smile into your cheek. “You are something else, bebita.”

You bite back a smile at the praise as he pulls away, helping you inside with a steadying hand on your waist as you haul yourself onto the passenger seat. Once you’re situated, he leans in, buckling the seatbelt for you (such a gentleman).

He wastes no time once he’s in the driver’s seat, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. He tells you his hotel’s not far from here and you hum, watching as he tries to concentrate on the road. His arm is on the console between you, fingers tapping out a beat as he stares ahead with a furrowed brow. You’d noticed his fingers earlier, when they’d dug into your hips on the dance floor, and later when they’d toyed with the rim of his glass at the table.

Heat flares in your core as you imagine how they’ll feel against your bare skin, how they’ll feel inside you. You rub your thighs together trying to alleviate the ache between your legs, turning your head to look out the window. Apparently he noticed you staring though, because when he stops at a red light a moment later, you feel his hand on your thigh. He doesn’t meet your eye when you turn to look at him though, as if resting his hand on your leg is completely natural. 

When his thumb lightly caresses your skin, you have to swallow the moan threatening to escape your throat. You bite your lip, eyes anywhere but Santiago, anywhere but the hand on your leg that’s just south of where you want it. When the light turns green, he presses the gas pedal, hand content to remain on your thigh. You drive in silence for a bit, the sexual tension between the two of you permeating the vehicle. 

“Almost there,” he mutters, slightly shifting the hand on your leg.

You hum in acknowledgment, wetting your lips as you fight the urge to rub your legs together. 

A few minutes later, he turns into the parking lot of a hotel with about twenty or so floors, a small casino, and a chapel. Your eyebrows raise in surprise at how nice it actually looks from the outside; you’re not exactly sure what you’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this. After he parks the car and shuts it off, he turns to look at you. 

You meet his gaze, your nerves suddenly kicking in and momentarily overriding your lust; you never do this, never have one night stands with strangers. Somehow, though, this guy doesn’t feel like a stranger…but you think maybe that’s just because he’s pretty and you're a little tipsy.

Oh well. What happens here, stays here, right?

He smiles, hand still on your thigh as he leans across the console to kiss you. His mouth is eager yet somehow still unhurried, like he has all the time in the world. You moan softly when he licks into your mouth, his fingers twitching on your thigh at the sound. 

After what seems like an eternity, he pulls back, smiling when you chase his lips. “Wanna head inside?”

You nod numbly, nerves forgotten as your body tingles with anticipation. He exits the car, rounding quickly to the other side to help you out (gentleman). Miraculously, you both manage to keep your hands to yourselves as you ride the elevator up to the seventeenth floor, a marked change from just a few moments ago. When you finally make it to his room at the end of the hall, he lets the two of you inside, and your attention is instantly grabbed by the view.

“Holy shit.”

You hadn’t thought much about the hotel when you’d seen it from the outside, too preoccupied with other things, but damn, was this view something. Certainly better than the one from your hotel room. The windows were huge, stretching from the floor all the way up to the ceiling, providing a panoramic view of the Vegas skyline.

“Nice, huh?” 

You scoff, unable to look away. “That’s an understatement.”

His chuckle is low as he stands quietly beside you, allowing you the moment to take everything in. His gaze is on you though; you can feel it, burning every inch of your skin as he drags it over you, tracing your every curve. You glance at him from the corner of your eye, heartbeat increasing at the hungry look on his face. When you turn to face him fully, his smile widens, moving toward you slowly, never breaking eye contact. He halts before you, chest pressing against yours as he leans in to run his nose along your cheek.

He’s giving you one more chance. One more chance to back out, to tell him you’ve changed your mind, to leave. But that’s the last thing you want, you think, as you lean in and press your lips to his. He hums, one hand coming up to cradle your face as the other settles on your waist. His movements are the same as when he kissed you downstairs; unhurried, like he wants to drag this out, wants to take you apart slowly. A shiver runs up your spine at the thought.

You find the waistband of his jeans, fingers curling around his belt loops and pulling his hips against yours. He ruts against you, groaning into your mouth as he slips his tongue between your lips. He drags the hand on your hip up your back as he steers you back toward the bed, fingers searching for the zipper of your dress. When he finds it, he pulls it down slowly, fingers brushing every inch of newly-exposed skin. He reaches the end as your legs hit the edge of the bed and pauses, wordlessly inviting you to drop the offending article of clothing to the floor as he continues to plunder your mouth.

You waste no time peeling the dress off of your body, kicking it away after it pools at your feet. The need to feel him against you is suddenly overwhelming, like an itch beneath your skin that you can’t quite scratch. Your hands find the hem of his shirt and slip underneath, raising goosebumps on his skin as you drag them slowly up his back. He breaks your kiss, pulling his shirt over his head and flinging it somewhere across the room. You giggle as he eagerly returns to your lips, his hands grasping your hips. You work on his pants next, unbuckling his belt and popping open the button. 

Your hand finds its way inside, cupping him through his boxers and he growls, pulling his mouth from yours and burying his face in your neck as you fondle him. The sound sends a jolt of want through you, and you decide you’ve teased him enough, releasing him and moving instead to push the rough denim down over his hips. He kicks them away when they drop and steps in closer, pressing his warm body against yours, wrapping an arm around you as he guides you backwards to lay on the bed.

The weight of him is oddly comforting as he settles over you, arms braced on either side of your head as he leans in again to kiss you eagerly. You slide your hands up his back, fingernails scratching lightly, making him shiver. He groans into your mouth as he shifts above you, his hand settling on your still-clothed breast. You gasp, breaking the kiss as you arch into his touch, his fingers teasing you through the fabric of your bra. He drags his lips down your neck, sucking marks into your skin wherever his tongue and teeth can reach as he slides down your body. You tip your head back to give him access, pushing your head into the soft mattress. 

He nuzzles against your breasts once he makes it to your chest, the delicious friction sending little jolts of pleasure straight between your legs. Your fingers tangle in his hair as he pulls the straps and cups of your bra down, exposing you to the cool air of the room. When he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, you moan, holding him to you as he teases you with his tongue. He groans when you pull his hair, the vibration against your breast making the breath back up in your lungs. You breathe his name, arching into his mouth as he shifts to your other breast, tongue swirling around your nipple. Somehow, he manages to unhook your bra, moving the garment out of the way as he continues to suck on your breasts, your body writhing beneath him.

He moves on once he feels like he’s given them enough attention, slowly kissing his way down your torso to settle between your legs. You’re soaked by now, you must be, and you’d probably feel embarrassed if it weren’t for the ravenous look in Santiago’s eyes. He presses his finger against your wet slit, teasing you through the damp fabric and you moan, hips tilting slightly to chase his touch. Instead, he pulls away, curling his fingers around the waistband of your panties and dragging them down your legs. He groans at the sight of you, eyes glassy with desire as they lift to meet yours. 

You swallow thickly at the unfiltered lust in his gaze—you don’t think anyone has ever wanted you this much in your life and you’re not quite sure how to handle it. Eyes still locked on yours, he leans in, gently spreading you with his fingers and dragging the tip of his tongue through your slit. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, hips bucking as he slowly circles your clit. You tangle your fingers in his hair again, your grip tightening when he flicks your clit with his tongue. He groans into your sex, sending a gush of arousal to your core, eyelids fluttering closed in satisfaction.

“You taste like heaven, querida,” he mutters against you, fingers gripping your hips as he continues to feast on you.

You’re already so close, the tension coiling in your belly, fire burning beneath your skin. When he closes his lips over your clit and sucks, you whine, whispered pleas falling from between your lips. He drags his teeth lightly over the sensitive bud and you come with a gasp, body twitching and writhing as you ride out the waves of euphoric bliss. Your fingers twist even tighter in his curls and he moans, lapping at your cunt like a man starved. You pull him up when it becomes too much, his chin coming to rest on your hip as you both try to catch your breath.

“You good?” he pants, thumbs idly caressing your skin.

You chuckle, the pleasure from your orgasm still singing through your nerves. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

His smile is smug when you meet his gaze, eyes still full of promise as he crawls his way back up your body. You hum when he reclaims your mouth, the taste of you on his lips and tongue making your core clench. Despite his very obvious arousal, he still kisses you slowly, deeply, licking into your mouth languidly, again like he has all the time in the world. You, however, need him inside you. Now. You can’t wait anymore.

You slip your thumbs beneath the waistband of his boxers, pushing the material down as far as you can, hoping he’ll get the message. He does, shifting enough to kick them off without breaking your kiss. You sigh at the feel of his skin against yours, his hard cock pressing against the apex of your thighs. He teases you, grinding against you slowly with just enough friction to send sparks through your body and smiling against your mouth as you moan. 

“Santiago, please,” you plead, gasping as he grinds his cock against you again, this time catching your still sensitive clit.

Your pleas go straight to his cock and he groans against your lips, shifting to grasp himself in his fist. As he notches himself at your entrance, he pulls back a little and meets your eyes again, brow furrowing in concentration as he slowly pushes into you.

You moan as he stretches you, fingers digging into the mattress as he slides inside inch by inch. When he’s fully seated, he pauses, breathing somewhat heavily through his nose 

“Look at me, hermosa,” he rasps, thumb caressing the side of your face.

You pry your eyes open, not even realizing you’d closed them in the first place, and meet his gaze—his eyes are molten, pupils blown wide. He reaches down to pull your leg up around his hip, somehow sinking even deeper into you with a grunt. His thrusts start slow, stoking the flames burning inside you. Heat flares across your skin like wildfire as you watch him above you, as you feel him inside you, the tension already beginning to coil in your gut. He groans as you constrict around him, your velvet walls hugging his cock as he hits places inside you you never even knew existed. When he snaps his hips a little harder, you can’t help the moans that spill from between your lips.

“Oh fuck,” you whine, fingers twisting in the comforter beneath you. “Just like that, Santi. Please. Feels so good.”

His pace stutters a little, and you think it must be because he’s close, but he quickly regains his composure, fucking into you steadily. His free hand palms your breast, fingers plucking at your nipple as you whimper his name over and over again, eyes falling shut in ecstasy. His fingers find your clit, circling the sensitive nub as he drags you closer and closer to your peak. 

You flutter around him as you teeter on the edge, the tension in your belly close to snapping. He covers you with his body then, snapping his hips into you and mouthing at your neck and chest, muttering against your skin. You gasp as the tension snaps, your body shaking with pleasure as you come. You clutch at him, fingernails digging into his skin and dragging a groan from him that sounds almost broken. He keeps fucking into you hard, prolonging your release as you gush on his cock. He stiffens when he finally comes, moaning into your neck as he shoots his spend deep inside you.

His muscles relax as he comes down, helped along by the way you’re running your fingers through his hair. When he looks up to meet your eyes, he smiles, eyelids drooping as he leans in to peck your lips.

“Mmm, marry me,” he mumbles, resting his forehead against yours.

You’re silent for a beat, then giggle “sure thing” as you pull him in for another kiss, his own chuckle muffled by your mouth.

—

The light streaming through the windows is bright and you groan as you wake, throwing the blankets over your head in an effort to block them out. Your head is throbbing, your mouth is as dry as the desert outside and…there’s a delicious soreness between your legs.

Your eyes fly open immediately, your arms scrambling to untangle yourself from the blankets, as the previous night rushes back to you in flashes: dancing and drinking at a club, meeting a ridiculously gorgeous man, leaving with said gorgeous man, going back to gorgeous man’s hotel and—

“Oh God.”

You sit up, clutching the blankets to your naked torso and as you look toward the other side of the bed and find him.

“Oh God.”

He’s still asleep, but just as stunning as you remember. You study him for a moment, tracing the lines of his face with your eyes, committing them to memory. Your eyes drift down his neck, your skin heating when you see all the bites and bruises you’d given him the night before. You should be ashamed or something, shouldn’t you? Sure, this guy (Santiago, you remember) is beautiful, and he’s definitely the best sex you’ve ever had in your life, but the list of things you didn’t know about him was as long as your leg—you don’t know where he’s from, why he’s here in Vegas, hell, you don’t even know his last name.

You’re spiraling, mind running off in a hundred different directions. You take a deep breath, willing yourself to calm down. This is fine. People have one night stands all the time, right? Especially in Vegas. Yes, you decide, this is fine, you’ll be fine.

You sigh, chuckling lightly to yourself as you scrub your hands over your face. Something unfamiliar catches on your nose as you do and you pull your hand away in confusion to examine it, eyes widening when you see it.

A ring.

“Oh God,” you breathe, staring at the foreign piece of jewelry on your left ring finger in utter horror.

Panic slices through you as you wrench the covers from your body, almost sprinting to the other side of the room before you remember you're naked and search the floor for your clothes. What you assume is Santiago’s shirt is the closest thing to you so you grab it, throwing it over your head as you duck quietly into the bathroom. You lock the door, pressing your back against it as you struggle to recall what happened last night. You remembered coming here, you remember sleeping with Santiago but, the rest is just…flashes. Flashes of more booze, of heated kisses, of moans against the back of your neck, your hands pressed against the giant window overlooking the Vegas skyline, fingers gripping your hips as Santiago fucks into you from behind—but no rings, no wedding. 

But then where had the ring come from?

Then the memory pops into your head, the one where he’d jokingly, you’d assumed, asked you to marry him. There was a wedding chapel here, you’d seen it on the way inside last night. Had you really done it then? Had you really married this stranger?

You’re spiraling again and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. It’s time to leave, now.

After righting yourself as much as possible, you quietly exit the bathroom, stealing a glance at the bed to make sure Santiago’s still asleep. You take a few minutes to look for your things, grabbing your shoes, your dress, and your bag. Your phone appears to be missing and you’re beginning to think you might’ve left it at the club because it appears to be nowhere in this room. 

Santiago chooses that moment to stir, grumbling as he turns over in his sleep, and you decide you can wait no longer. You’re about to book it for the door when you realize you’re only wearing his shirt. It’s relatively long, hitting you at about mid-thigh, but you’re going to have to take a cab and you’d rather not flash the driver. With a sigh, you grab Santi’s boxers from the floor figuring they’re better than nothing as you slip them on. As you move to leave, you pause, chewing your lip as you take one last look at the gorgeous sleeping man, silently thanking him for one of the best nights of your life. Quietly, you turn the nob, praying he doesn’t hear the door click shut behind you.

—

You manage to convince the hotel clerk to let you call yourself a cab, ignoring the knowing look she’s giving you over your attire as you tip her for her trouble. You make it back to your hotel room without further incident, immediately jumping in the shower to wash off the previous night’s activities. As you pack up your things, you pointedly ignore the sour feeling in your gut, instead running through a mental checklist of everything you need to do before your flight takes off later that evening, including calling the club to see if anyone turned in your phone (surprise: no one did). Resigned, you head to the airport, your mind wandering as you wait for your plane to take off.

You feel terrible, but not for the reasons you think you should. You should feel terrible for fucking a complete stranger, should feel terrible for (possibly) marrying said complete stranger whose last name you don’t even know. But you don’t. Instead, you feel terrible for stealing Santiago’s clothes, for taking this ring you’re still wearing on your finger for some reason…for leaving him without saying goodbye. A part of you, the romantic part, hopes that you had left just as much of an impression on him as he had on you, hopes he’ll somehow figure out how to find you. 

Maybe it’s for the best if he doesn’t though, the rational part of you interjects, as the plane ascends, the Vegas skyline disappearing beneath the clouds. Maybe it’s better to leave this experience here where it belongs: In Vegas. 

—

It’s been weeks since your trip and you still haven’t told anyone what really happened. You’ve been trying to forget about it, actually, but your brain hasn’t let you, the memories seeping into your dreams at night and leaving you with an ache you can’t seem to soothe on your own. You’re off from work today, choosing to spend the day catching up on household chores. The act of cleaning is oddly therapeutic, giving you a sense of renewal with every task you complete. As you throw a load of laundry into the washer, you breathe deeply, the scent of your detergent calming your frayed nerves.

You make your way to your kitchen, thinking about out what to do for lunch, when a knock sounds at your front door. Assuming it’s a delivery, you head there first, wondering absently how much wine is left in your fridge as you unlock the door. You freeze when you open it, eyes widening, body stiffening, mouth falling open in shock.

It’s him.

For a moment, you think you must be dreaming again, because how else could he be here? 

Yet here he is. Standing at your front door, hands nonchalantly stuffed in his pockets as he smiles knowingly at you. He looks good, so good, maybe even better than you remember, with his dark eyes, chiseled jaw, five o’clock shadow, and fitted jeans and t-shirt.

“Hi,” you say finally, your voice feeling a little strained, like your throat’s about to close up.

You swallow thickly as his smile widens. “Hi,” Santiago responds, slowly dragging his heated gaze down the length of you and back up again.

His tone is smooth, flowing over your skin like silk and setting your nerves alight. 

“How’d you find me?” you ask, cringing a little at your bluntness.

He sniffs a laugh, stepping close enough that you can smell him (and fuck, does he smell good), can feel the heat rolling off of him, can feel his breath against your skin.

“I have my ways,” he says mysteriously, his voice low as he leans in, nuzzling his nose against yours.

“Oh?” you breathe, eyelashes fluttering as his lips skate over yours.

He hums, his breath fanning against your cheek as he tilts his head and leans in that last inch to claim your lips in a kiss. You sigh the moment his mouth touches yours, relief flooding your body as you melt into him. You’ve missed him, you finally admit, butterflies erupting in your belly as he brings his hands up to cradle your face. He angles your head a little as he slips his tongue into your mouth, thumbs caressing the apples of your cheeks, making your heart ache. Your hands fist themselves in his shirt, pulling him across the threshold as you continue to plunder each other’s mouths. Once inside, he kicks the door closed, turning so he can press you against it. 

“Bedroom?” he pants, mouth hovering over yours.

You shake your head and instead point toward the couch in the next room. “Too far.”

He nods, smiling as he reclaims your mouth, maneuvering you both over to it. He frees you from your clothes along the way, his hands dragging across every newly-revealed inch of skin. You do the same for him, pressing soft kisses into the scars that litter his skin. Soon after, he’s pressing you into the plush cushions of your couch, pushing inside you slowly, so slowly, swallowing the moans that fall from between your lips with every thrust. You fall asleep in his arms, his body wrapped around yours possessively, reluctant to let you go.

—

It’s dusk outside when you wake, the warmth the sun had filled the room with earlier in the day had slowly leached away, replaced by the cool evening air. You shiver a little, burrowing into the warmth of Santiago’s body beside you. You still can’t believe he’s really here, that he found you; you’ll have to ask him how he managed that later. For now though, you’re content to just lay here in his arms and soak up his warmth.

Until your stomach growls, that is, remembering suddenly that you’d skipped lunch. You glance at Santi, trying not to wake him as you gingerly maneuver yourself out of his embrace and off the couch. Your legs are a little wobbly as you stand, but you remain upright as you search the floor for your clothes. Deja Vu hits you when you spot Santi’s t-shirt nearby, a pang of regret slicing through your gut as you pick it up and pull it on over your head. What would’ve happened if you’d stayed that day? If you’d at least said goodbye? 

You shake your head at the thought, quietly padding into the kitchen. It was pointless to dwell on the past, on what might’ve been; you couldn’t change things and neither could he. The Universe had seen fit to give you a second chance though, and you weren’t going to let yourself run away this time. You pull open your fridge, briefly scanning the contents before settling on a bowl of fruit you’d cut up earlier. You close the door with your hip, setting it on the counter and plucking a piece out. Flavor explodes in your mouth as you chew, the tartness of the fruit making your mouth water. You moan softly as you eat another piece, closing your eyes to savor the sweetness. 

You jump as Santiago’s strong hands squeeze your hips, his chin hooking over your shoulder, and you smile, leaning back into his solid, warm body. 

“Want some?” you ask, picking a piece of fruit between your fingers.

He hums, opening his mouth as you bring it to his lips, his tongue licking the excess juice off of your fingers. You bite your lip, plucking another piece from the bowl and tossing it into your mouth. You go back and forth like this for a while, talking about everything and nothing. Among other things, you learn where he’s from, what he does, why he was in Vegas, and you, in turn, tell him things about yourself. 

Later, long after the fruit has been eaten, he turns you around to face him, arms caging you in against the counter as he leans in to kiss you. He tastes exquisite, the sweetness of the fruit mingling with something so inherently him. You lick into his mouth, tangling your tongue with his and he groans, the sound sending a rush of warmth down your spine. He’s half hard against you, rutting against your hip, his fingers toying with the bottom of the shirt you’re wearing. When he pulls away to drag his lips down your neck, you sigh, fingers tanging in his curls as he sucks a mark into your skin.

“Santi,” you breathe, biting back a moan. “Why’d you come looking for me?” 

He hums, nipping at your collarbone, smiling when your breath catches. 

“Honestly?” he rasps, tone light as he pulls back to meet your eyes. “I really just wanted my shirt back.”

You snort a laugh, clapping a hand over your face in embarrassment. He chuckles, eyes crinkling as he leans in to claim your mouth again, his fingers slipping beneath your shirt to caress your bare skin. You get lost in the warm, slick slide of his lips against yours, every kiss stoking the fire burning beneath your skin, when a thought randomly occurs to you.

“Wait,” you mumble, gently prying his mouth from yours. “What’s your last name?”

His chuckles, brow furrowing in mild confusion. “Garcia, why?”

You smile, thumbing the ring on your finger as you lean in to kiss him. “Just curious.”

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

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deleted scenes: car ride / window sex

[justabigassnerd]

Replaced

Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x daughter!reader

Word count - 1,500

Warnings - fluff, that's it

Summary - the Daggers have a get-together on the beach for 4th July and you cling to Mickey the whole time, leaving two people jokingly heartbroken

Sequel to 'New Best Friend'

A/N - it's about damn time I'm uploading a fic isn't it? I'm so sorry for how long I'm taking to write stuff I truly am. I hope I did this request justice because as you can see it's horrifically late. as per y'all please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

After the get-together at Jake’s house that introduced you to all the Daggers, it became beyond obvious that Mickey had quickly become your favourite person. Mickey started visiting Jake’s house more often just to see you or would meet up with you and Jake at the beach and you always lit up when you saw Mickey, toddling over to him as quickly as you could before he scooped you up in his arms.

When it drew closer to the 4th of July, Penny and Maverick announced to the Daggers that they’d be holding a barbeque on the beach just in front of the Hard Deck and that the whole squadron was invited to spend the evening together at the beach and without hesitation, all members of the squad was accepting the offer and soon began chatting amongst each other excitedly about what they could get up to.

“Mav, is it okay if I bring y/n along? If we’re all here I have no one I trust to watch her.” Jake asks, approaching Maverick and Penny to have a conversation with them.

“Of course, she can come. Quite frankly we would’ve been offended if you didn’t bring her.” Penny says with a laugh as Maverick nods in agreement, their responses quickly putting Jake at ease.

“To be honest, she probably won’t think much of the whole thing, she’ll just want to hang out with Fanboy the whole time anyway.” Jake admits with a laugh, glancing over his shoulder to where the rest of the Daggers were before turning back to face Maverick and Penny.

“Every kid finds someone outside of their family to be their favourite, don’t they? I was Bradley’s favourite person when he was little. Drove Goose wild. Just don’t tell Bradley I told you that or I might get killed.” Maverick says with a smile that matches Jake’s as both men chuckle, imagining a younger Bradley clinging to Maverick the way you clung to Mickey.

A few days later it was time for the 4th July barbeque and the Daggers had turned up in full force ready to spend an afternoon eating, drinking, and enjoying each other’s company.

“You ready sweetheart?” Jake says after parking his truck just in front of the beach, turning around to see you in your car seat grinning at him.

“Yes, daddy.” You say excitedly, waiting both patiently and eagerly for Jake to kill the engine, round the car and unbuckle you from your car seat, lifting you out of the car effortlessly and setting you down on the ground before taking your hand in his. The two of you then head towards where the Daggers had set up the get-together. You were walking along happily by Jake’s side, a wide grin on your face as you approach the group and as you take in the sight of everyone who has arrived you realise Mickey is not among the group and your smile falters.

“Mickey?” You ask quietly, looking up at your dad who quickly scoops you up in his arms and sits you on his hip.

“He’s probably just running a little bit behind, sweetheart. He’s always the last one to arrive. Let’s say hi to the others in the meantime, shall we?” Jake encourages, bouncing you on his hip to try and elicit a smile from you as he crosses the beach to the Daggers who greet you with smiles and waves which you return, beginning to cheer up a little. Jake had noticed how meeting the Daggers had helped bring you out of your shell a little more and that you were slowly becoming a bit more extroverted, even at school when teachers had previously told him you preferred to keep to yourself, now they were telling him that you had begun interacting with your classmates more and was beginning to make friends.

After greeting the Daggers, you take the step to move away from Jake and decide to watch what Natasha is doing as she picks up a stick and draws a smiley face in the sand which makes you giggle before she hands you the stick to attempt to draw something yourself which keeps you occupied long enough for Mickey to finally show up, the last of the Daggers to arrive, as usual. Mickey greets his teammates as he approaches, his voice getting your attention as you turn to look, your face lighting up the moment you realise who has just arrived.

“Mickey!” You cry happily, getting yourself onto your feet and toddling over to Mickey as fast as your little legs would allow and the moment you reached him, Mickey scooped you up into his arms and hugged you close.

“Hey, short stuff! How have you been?” Mickey asks with a smile as you cuddle closer to him, barely answering his question with anything more than a small mumble and nod. Mickey then crossed to the rest of the group, greeting them all properly with a smile while you continued to cling to him.

“Sandcastles?” You ask Mickey when there’s a lapse in conversation between the adults and Mickey looks at you with a wide grin before nodding.

“You want to make sandcastles? Let’s do it.” Mickey says excitedly, grabbing your bucket and spade from where Jake had put yours and his stuff and finding somewhere to sit nearby so you could make your sandcastles.

“How are we feeling about Fanboy replacing you with Hangman’s kid, Payback?” Javy asks with a smirk as Jake rolls his eyes while flipping a burger.

“I can’t believe I’ve been replaced by a kid. Hangman’s kid as well.” Reuben says jokingly, glancing over his shoulder, lifting his aviators and sending Jake a wink as he chuckles, knowing Reuben was only joking.

“If it makes you feel any better, it’s like y/n has completely forgotten I exist.” Jake then jokes, glancing over at where you were sat under Mickey’s watchful eye, carefully crafting a sandcastle as Mickey formed a pile of shells, he found in the sand for you to use as decorations.

You and Mickey remain sat in the sand making sandcastles until all the food has been cooked and Mickey is quick to help you to your feet and lead you over to the table to help you plate up some food for yourself before sitting on the wall along the beach front so you could sit in between Mickey and your dad while you ate your dinner.

After everyone finished their food and the sun started to begin its descent, Maverick suggested a game of dogfight football to finish off the day and Penny suggested you come and sit with her to watch everyone play but seeing Mickey dare to move away from you had you clinging to his hand within seconds.

“Stay.” You plead, looking up at Mickey with wide pleading eyes that melt his heart in a matter of seconds.

“Looks like I’m taking a backseat today guys.” Mickey says with a grin, ignoring the joking complaints from the other Daggers and sitting alongside Penny with you on his lap so you could watch your dad play.

“Go daddy!” You cheer as your dad celebrates scoring, clapping your hands together as Mickey claps as well.

Your interest in the game only lasted a few more minutes before the events of the evening began to catch up to you as you began to yawn repeatedly which had Mickey searching for Jake amongst the group, squinting from behind his sunglasses to find him to wave him down. Jake noticed Mickey quickly and came jogging over, assessing the sight before he even arrived and quickly realised what was going on.

“I got her.” Jake says quietly, taking you into his arms smoothly while Mickey scoops yours and Jake’s stuff into Jake’s bag to give to him.

“Daddy?” You mumble, eyes barely open as you cuddle closer to your dad.

“Oh, now you want me?” Jake muses jokingly, tightening his grip ever so slightly as he bids the Daggers goodbye with a wave which you copied, only much more sluggish in your movements, before making his way back to his truck, putting the bag in the backseat before putting you in your car seat and strapping you in as you whined slightly at the loss of your dad’s arms.

“It’s okay sweetheart, we’ll be home soon, and you can get in your nice comfy bed.” Jake promises, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before closing the door and getting behind the wheel and beginning the drive home.

“Did you have a good time y/n?” Jake asks after getting a minute down the road. When he’s met with no response other than the rumbling of the engine and the quiet song playing over the radio, he briefly shifts his gaze to his rearview mirror, smiling softly to himself when he catches sight of you fast asleep in your seat.

“You definitely had the best time didn’t you?”

[lawain-dimensional-heroes]

Lemme remind y'all-- especially to the people who think that they can shit on any mun's roleplaying style:

Roleplaying is a hobby, NOT a job. We're all here to have fun so don't be a shite maestro!

You don't need to roleplay as fancy as you can get, you don't need to have the most fanciest of icons, you don't need to have multiple paragraphs or have the most detailed responses. All of that is just a preference that one prefers to have. If you don't like it well it's best to just accept it and move on or just tolerate it or if it's really an issue just try and kindly ask and maybe help out. Roleplaying should be a hobby-- a welcoming hobby even.

Just trying to send your frustration through anon hate isn't going to help. It's annoying, mostly empty noise as it removes most of the impact and while it's mostly empty in terms of weight, some can get destructive-- I as well as others seen what those asks can do, so please don't do anon hate please or else this mun will bonk your head harder than Android 18 breaking Vegeta's arms.

[thatdeadaquarius]

I just reread your Language Barrier AU and the ballpoint where reader was pissed because these fuckers just couldn't help but talk like Zhongli-

MINCE YOUR WORDS.

IN ONE SENTENCE.

PREFERABLY 5 WORDS OR LESS.

EXPLAIN IT TO ME LIKE I'M RAZOR.

Argh, God. I'm getting mad just thinking about it. 😤 Imagine in a fight and these dudes just sttaight up blurted a fucking 5 book-length, hard bounded soliloquy- I cannot-

No, Venti, Kazuha. You cannot use Haikus-

No, Cyno, you cannot use jokes either- but that is debatable-

And Oh. My. God. I kept thinking about when fighting and y'all kept throwing words (like when using a skill) and I'm just here standing, bracing myself SO HARD trying not to laugh (also irl). And then maybe now and then some mistranslation on Reader's mind since they use JP VA since the start of Genshin (assuming they play?) are new to Teyvat's Language:

'One with the Floor!'

One with the what?

'Shake your ass, sir!'

Cue spitting tea-

(Sorry, that's just me mishearing things 💀) But like at those times, Reader is the one dying of laughter lol. Imagine them explaing to Beidou that they thought she said 'Power of the ending Hotdog' instead of 'Power that ended Haishan'.

Aight, imma just.. go.

*imma send this anonymously because im shy, but do know that I love bread 🥖

Also @2:20

For you 🤲🥨🍩🥧🥐all the bread for the superior ask, anon

I could definitely see myself saying "ONE SENTENCE. U HAVE TO RESPOND IN ONE SENTENCE ONLY." then they manage to still make it a whole 40 word sentence 💀

^^ Confused Bakugou gif is literally u being shocked bc u keep mishearing everyones bursts on the battlefield LMAO SHAKE UR ASS SIR THAT ONE TOOK ME TF OUT ANON

☆

"Speed of Bite!" (Keqing's Speed of Light lol)

"I will have whore her!" (Zhongli's I will have order 😭)

"Time for... Execution!" (Diluc's time for retribution lol)

...

You in the background like: 🧍‍♂️... tfs wrong with yall, u glitched??

◇

They're like, physically incapable of making your kind of simple blunt sentences

Like i think some people would get close: Albedo, Xinyan, Klee, Qiqi, Sayu (rlly likes it bc it lets them be lazier), Cyno (maybe at first but then he would like, explain for 10 min after every simple sentence what he meant like his jokes 😭), Hu Tao, Heizou, Lumine/Aether, Xiao (can kinda get close but he gets frustrated and then rants for 30 minutes lmao), Razor (holds the title for the closest to your simple speech,👏👏LMAO PPL ACCIDENTALLY THINKING HES A GOD)

♤

People who will never get it, not even if ur in battle & ur life depends on it LMAO:

Zhongli (he rlly wants to but habits over thousands of years r hard to break 🙏 rip), Yun Jin, Xingqiu, Kuni/Babygirl, Venti, Kazuha, Sucrose, Shenhe, Kokomi, Ei, Nahida (tho it was a valiant effort), Noelle, Alhaitham, Sara, Ningguang (she doesnt want to even try lol), Mona, Fischl, Jean, Ganyu, Eula, Barbara, Diluc + Kaeya (unsurpringly both of them are tied for being the worst attempts at speaking simply 💀, guess its just that fancy etiquette training, its too hard to break) 😔

♡

Yeah, ur pretty much begging the ppl who can get close to ur speech to constantly translate everyone else

Rest in peace traveler, theyre like the first person u turn to,

(Paimon is also kinda bad at speaking simply, closest shes gotten is when she demands food lol)

☆

Idk how good this was, but THANK U FOR THE ASK AGAIN I AM ALWAYS READY TO HEAR OTHERS MAKE MY BRAINROT WORSE OVER LANGUAGE GENSHIN <3

ALSO I CANT BELIEVE U SENT ME THAT CYNO JOKES VIDEO PLEASE ITS SO LONG IT WAS SO FUNNY I STILL HAVENT WATCHED THE FULL THING

Feel free to send another in whenever i love talking to yall ♡

Cheers,

🌒🌊🌧Aquarius♒️🌌🌘

♡ the beloveds:

@karmawonders

✨️✨️✨️✨️💖✨️✨️✨️✨️