#because it nearly made me burst out laughing at work

[authortelevision]

“No hesitation. It’s literally George Clarke.”₊˚⊹♡

words: 2,312 ✦ .ᐟ

♯┆george clarke smut, friends to lovers, cunnilingus, penetration

while very drunk you confess to george how attractive you think he is. leading to a written and signed contract that allows him to do whatever he wants to you, whenever he pleases.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁౨ৎ. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

The pub was warm and loud, the kind of place where voices bounced off the wooden beams and glasses clinked endlessly. You were way too many drinks past tipsy, and the world was beyond just tilting in that soft, familiar way that made everything seem funnier than it should. George sat across from you at the round, slightly sticky table, surrounded by your friends, all of whom had that casual kind of good-looking presence that felt unfair when gathered in one group.

Someone had started a game, but it had long drifted from that and was now about ranking everyone’s attractiveness in the group. It was lighthearted at first, but soon, due to far too many pints and the safety of friendship, had began bordering on pure confessions.

“Alright, alright,” one of Arthur said, pointing his half-empty beer bottle around like a microphone. “Let’s be honest—if we had to pick the fittest here, It’s definitely George, right?”

The table erupted in overlapping shouts and exaggerated groans of protest. People threw out names, deflecting or tossing compliments back and forth, but the consensus was obvious from the beginning, it was definitely George.

“Alright, alright, we get it,” George said, laughing and leaning back in his chair. His cheeks were tinged pink, probably from the alcohol but also maybe from the compliments. “I’m flattered, really.”

You, meanwhile, had been quiet for a bit too long. Not because you disagreed, but because the alcohol had dissolved whatever barrier normally kept your thoughts in check. You were watching him laugh, the way his head tipped back, his hair slightly messy but in a way that somehow worked better than if he’d tried to style it. And, well, drunk-you thought it was probably time to say something.

“You’re not just fit, though,” you blurted, cutting through the noise. The table went quiet for a moment before bursting into laughter again, assuming you were joking. But you weren’t done.

“No, I mean it,” you said, gesturing sloppily at George. “Like, George could literally hook up with me anytime. No questions asked.”

The laughter shifted, turning into a mix of shocked giggles and playful hoots.

“Wait, what?” George said, leaning forward now, his grin somewhere between amused and incredulous.

“I’m just saying,” you continued, undeterred. “If he showed up at my place like, ‘Hey, let’s go,’ I wouldn’t even ask why. I’d just—” You made a vague, sweeping gesture, nearly knocking over your drink. “No hesitation. It’s literally George Clarke. He’s fit.”

George was laughing so hard he was practically doubled over, one hand gripping the edge of the table for support. “I’m sorry, I need this in writing,” he managed to get out between gasps.

Without thinking, you grabbed a napkin from the table and fumbled for a pen. Someone handed you one, either out of encouragement or sheer disbelief at what you were doing.

“Fine,” you said, squinting hard at the napkin as if it were a legal document. Your handwriting was atrocious, big, looping letters that slanted off the edges of the napkin, but you managed to scrawl something that resembled:

‘George Clarke can hook up with me anytime. Whatever and whenever he wants.’

You signed it with a weak signature, your name barely legible, and slid it across the table to him.

“There,” you said, leaning back in your chair like you’d just closed a business deal. “It’s official.”

George picked up the napkin, holding it delicately between his fingers like it was a priceless artifact. He stared at it for a moment before bursting into laughter again. “This is going on my fridge,” he said, tucking it into his jacket pocket.

The night carried on, the napkin forgotten by you as the drinks kept coming and the conversations grew even more chaotic. By the time you stumbled home, you’d all but erased the memory of your drunken declaration.

You woke up with a pounding headache and vague, mortifying flashes of the night before. Something about George. Something about a napkin. You groaned and buried your face in your pillow, praying it had all been a dream.

Meanwhile, across the city, George stood in his kitchen, sipping a cup of tea and staring at the napkin stuck to his fridge with a magnet. He smirked to himself, thinking back to all the ways he’d imagined you in his bed.

You weren’t expecting anyone. It was late, a quiet Wednesday evening, and you’d just settled onto the sofa with a blanket and some tea. The sound of the doorbell startled you, pulling you out of your own head.

When you opened it, you were met with the last person you expected to see at this hour.

George stood there, the napkin, the napkin, held loosely between his fingers. His hair was slightly messy, like he’d run his hands through it too many times on the way over, and his signature wide smile tugged at the corners of his lips. But his eyes held something else tonight.

“Hey,” he said casually, as if he wasn’t standing on your doorstep with a piece of evidence that could end your sanity.

“George?” you blurted, clutching the edge of the door. “What are you doing here?”

He leaned lazily against the doorframe, holding up the napkin like a winning lottery ticket. “I thought it was time I cashed this in.”

Your stomach flipped, and heat rose to your cheeks. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered, already mortified. “I didn’t think you were actually keeping that thing.”

“Oh, I’ve kept it,” he said, his voice coated with amusement as he waved the crumpled napkin. “Are you kidding? This is priceless.” He tilted his head, stepping just close enough for you to feel the warmth radiating off him. “Besides, you always tell me that drunk words are sober thoughts and I think it still counts when you wrote this.”

“George—”

“Relax,” he interrupted, his voice teasing. “I’m not here to embarrass you.” He paused, his eyes flicking down to your lips and back up to your eyes. “Although, if I’m being honest, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

You swallowed hard, your breath like a rock in your throat. “Thinking about what?”

He grinned, stepping into your flat. “What you said.” He lowered his voice. “The way you looked at me when you said it. The way you wrote it down without a second thought.”

You wanted to crawl under a rock, or maybe pull him closer. You hadn’t decided yet.

“You’re being ridiculous,” you said, trying to laugh it off, but the way he was looking at you made it impossible to breathe, let alone think straight.

“Am I?” he murmured, taking another step toward you, closing the distance completely. He leaned down slightly, his face scanning your expression. “Because I think sober you meant every word.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no sound came out. George’s grin widened at your silence, and he reached up, lightly brushing his fingers along your jawline.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he said, his tone shifting, his playful confidence turning more intimate. “Tell me you didn’t mean it, and I’ll leave right now.”

The challenge hung in the air, and you hated how easily he could unravel you with just a few words. But he wasn’t wrong, not even close.

“I…” you started.

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk tugging at his lips again. “I’m waiting.”

“You’re not wrong,” you admitted finally, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

George’s smile turned triumphant, and he closed the last inch of space between you, his hand settling on your waist. “That’s what I thought.”

The kiss came fast, catching you off guard but leaving no room for hesitation. His lips were soft, warm, and just demanding enough to make your head spin. His hand slid up to cradle your face, tilting your head slightly to deepen the kiss, while his thumb brushed against your cheek.

When he pulled back, you were breathless, your heart racing as his forehead rested lightly against yours.

“So,” he murmured, “does this mean I get full rights to the ‘whatever I want’ part of the deal? Or do we need to renegotiate?”

You laughed, your hands gripping the front of his shirt to steady yourself. “Oh, shut up.”

He grinned, pressing another kiss to your lips. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

But soon his tongue demanded entry, and you opened, moaning softly as he explored your mouth with a possessive hunger.

He broke the kiss, leaving you gasping for air, and a wicked smile played on his lips. "I want you, right here, right now," he lifted you, making you wrap your legs around his waist, and carried you to the bedroom.

The room spun as he tossed you onto the bed, the soft mattress cushioning your fall. George loomed over you, his eyes burning with an intense desire that made your skin prickle with anticipation. He grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand.

"You’re beautiful," he said, his voice rough. "And I promise you, you’ll never forget this."

You struggled playfully, testing his hold, but George only tightened his grip, his fingers digging into your sensitive skin. The pain was pleasurable, a sensation that only furthered your arousal. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear, and whispered, "Be a good girl and take what I give you."

As he spoke, his free hand trailed down your body, tracing the curve of your breast, then lower, until he reached the waistband of your jeans. He undid the button and zipper, sliding them down your legs, leaving you exposed in your underwear.

George's eyes darkened as he took in the sight of your naked body. He ran his fingers along the edge of your underwear, making you squirm under his touch. "Beautiful," he whispered,"but I want to see all of you."

With that, he tore the flimsy fabric, baring your body to his hungry gaze. You felt exposed, vulnerable, but the look in his eyes promised pleasure beyond measure. He stroked your thighs, spreading them apart.

"Look at me," he commanded. You opened your eyes, meeting his intense gaze as he lowered his head, his tongue tracing a path from your navel to the throbbing feeling between your legs. You gasped, arching into his touch, as his tongue flicked and teased, driving you wild.

He sucked on your clit, drawing it into his mouth, and you cried out, your hips bucking off the bed. His fingers joined in, delving into you, stretching and filling you as his tongue continued.

The pleasure was overwhelming, building to a crescendo. You were close, so close, and George seemed to sense it. He released your wrists, and you threaded your fingers through his hair, holding him to you as your orgasm crashed over you. Your body shook, and you cried out his name, a plea for more.

But George wasn't done with you yet. He rose, his hard body casting a shadow over you, and ripped open the button of his jeans. His thick, erect cock sprang free, and he positioned himself at your entrance, teasing you with the tip.

"Please," you begged, your voice hoarse from the moans and gasps.

"Okay baby," he replied.

With one swift thrust, he filled you, so completely that you cried out in surprise. He held himself there, letting you adjust to his size, his eyes never leaving yours. Then, he began to move, withdrawing almost entirely before slamming back into you, over and over, each thrust harder and messier than the last.

His hands gripped your throat, his fingers curled around your neck forcing your breath to settle just above his grip. You gasped, your eyes widening as you struggled for breath, but he held you in his gaze, his light blue eyes burning into your soul.

"You’re such a good girl for me" he grunted, his voice in harsh gasps. "Tell me how much you want me, baby."

"Fuck… George," you managed to whisper, your body branded by George’s hot strong hands. "I want you, please George I need you so much."

George burrowed into your neck, biting your skin roughly, not bothering to soothe the pain, only kissing you aggressively. His pace quickened, George’s hips pounding into yours. The pleasure was something you had never experienced before, your body was craving George’s release so hard, it was bordering on pain, but you welcomed it, craving George deep within you, the smell of sweat and his cologne consumed all that was left of your senses. His fingers tightened around your throat, and he pounded deep into you one final time, his body stiffening.

As he released himself inside you, his grip on your neck loosened, and he collapsed onto the bed beside you, both of you panting. You turned to face him, your breathe slowly becoming less laboured, and saw the satisfied smile on his face.

"George stop smiling you dick” you weakly whisper.

George panted out a light laugh, “Sorry, just think about this a lot”

“You’ve been thinking about me?” you state as you roll onto your side cuddling into his chest.

“I’ve done a lot more than just thinking about you,” George confesses as he adjusts his arm to place his hand in your hair, playing with the strands as they fall through his fingers.

“Yeah?” is all you can say as the exhaustion floods your mind.

“Yeah. But I can’t believe there’s written proof of how bad you wanted me.” he laughs as his words become muffled in your hair.

You cringe at his words, hiding your face in your hands. “That’s so fucking embarrassing oh my god!”

“Yeah maybe it is, but there’s no limit I hope.”

“There will be if you’re gonna be annoying tomorrow,” you mention.

“Tomorrow? Was I that good?”

“Fuck off.”

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authortv note: I WILL POST SOON, i’ve been so unmotivated to post so if you like this PLS PLS PLS let me know cause i need some motivation !! LOVE YOU SO MUCH !!

MERRY CHRISTMAS <333

[pokemontheywouldhave]

Please reblog for larger sample size :)

Propaganda : I mean how else are [they] giving all these random characters all these Pokémon?

[niilue]

—when you can't resist it and you spank vi—

cw: fem reader, funny and silly situation, drabble, mention of spank, vi ashamed.

ekko's hiding place was relatively quiet, except for the sound of metal tools clinking and the occasional scattered conversation. you’d been wandering around, trying to find something useful to do, but your attention kept drifting toward vi.

she was bent over a table, working on her gauntlets as usual. her movements were meticulous and focused, and the furrow in her brow made it clear she was completely absorbed in her task. her jacket rested on a nearby chair, leaving her fitted tank top on display, highlighting the defined lines of her shoulders and muscles.

but it wasn’t her tank top that caught your attention—it was her pants. vi always wore those long, dark pants, snug and fitted, as if they were made specifically for her. the way they clung to her body, outlining every curve, was almost mesmerizing.

and now, with her leaning over the table, all her weight resting on her arms, the fabric stretched in a way that made everything stand out even more. you couldn’t help but notice how the curve of her backside was perfectly outlined, firm and athletic.

for a moment, a mischievous spark ignited in your mind, growing quickly into a reckless idea.

"why not?" you thought to yourself, a sly grin spreading across your face.

you crept up behind her, careful not to make a sound on the metal floor. vi didn’t even notice your presence, too focused on adjusting some mechanism on her gauntlet.

the opportunity was perfect. without giving it too much thought, you raised your hand and delivered a slap to her backside so loud it echoed across the hideout, causing a few nearby heads to turn in surprise.

the impact made vi’s backside jiggle slightly, the material of her pants rippling briefly from the force before snapping back into place.

“WHAT THE FUCKKK?!” vi shouted, straightening up so fast she nearly knocked over the table. her hand immediately flew to her backside as she whipped around to face you, her expression a mix of shock and rage.

her cheeks, normally pale, were now tinged with a deep red, the flush crawling up her neck. you couldn’t help it—you burst into laughter, bending over as you tried to catch your breath.

“sorry, sorry!” you managed to say between giggles, though your tone was anything but apologetic. “i couldn’t resist!”

vi stared at you, her blue eyes wide with disbelief. she looked as though she was trying to process what had just happened, her mouth opening and closing like she couldn’t quite find the words. finally, she pointed a shaky finger at you.

“what the hell makes you think that was a good idea?!” she demanded.

“well…” you began, shrugging with a playful grin. “with those pants and that pose, you were practically begging for it.”

vi’s jaw dropped. her hands fell to her hips as she stared at you, clearly caught between laughing and yelling. she opted for yelling.

“begging for it? are you kidding me?! it hurt, you idiot!”

“Ah, come on, vi,” you said, trying to soften the moment. “it was a little token of affection.”

“that wasn't affection! that was a fucking attack,” she retorted, twitching slightly as if the sting was still present.

"i honestly didn't think it would move that much. it was the highlight of my day.” you replied, unable to keep a smile off your face.

“SHUT UP!” vi snapped, her voice cracking slightly as her blush deepened. her hands moved to cover her backside defensively, as if to shield it from another ambush.

“is it still stinging?” you asked, feigning innocence. “or was it just a really good hit?”

vi’s hands slowly dropped to her sides as she narrowed her eyes at you, her face now an unmistakable shade of red. for a moment, you thought she might lunge at you, but instead, she took a deep breath, her shoulders visibly tensing.

“get ready to run,” she growled, her voice dangerously low. “because when i catch you, you’re not walking away from this.”

“is that a challenge?” you teased, taking a step back.

“no,” vi said, her tone chilling. “it’s a damn promise.”

before you could say another word, vi started moving toward you. you did the only sensible thing: you bolted.

your laughter echoed through the hideout as vi chased after you, her growls of frustration barely audible over your hysterical giggling. you knew you were in trouble, but you couldn’t stop thinking about her flustered, embarrassed expression.

totally worth it.

[rafesangelita]

rafe + breeding kink

warnings: singledad!rafe, older!rafe (maybe like late twenties-early thirties), nanny!reader, rafe’s son calls you mommy, fluff, unprotected sex, dirty talk, mentions of pregnancy and having kids, creampie

a/n: breeding kink was so heavily requested omg, i love everyone who left a req for this <3 i definitely went a little overboard lol

“well, that worked like a charm.” rafe smiled down at you and his son who was currently cuddled into your side. “i don’t want to move away from him.” you pouted, running your fingers through the little boy’s hair. you had been doing this weird thing to rafe’s heart everytime he saw you caring for his boy, and he didn’t know what to make of it.

despite having been rafe’s nanny for nearly three years now, you still found yourself getting flustered every time you caught him staring at you. whether it was you folding laundry, or bending over to dust the entertainment center, all those little things were starting to add up into something both of you wouldn’t be able to come back from.

“do you think we could talk?” rafe helped you up from his son’s race car bed, a worried expression overtaking his features. “yeah, of course, is everything alright?” you didn’t miss the way he kept your hand in his, leading both of you downstairs after closing the door to little ray’s room. “yes, i actually wanted to talk about my salary-” rafe was quick to cut in.

“throw me a number and you got it.” he dropped your hand, ushering you to take a seat next to him. you laughed softly, shaking your head. “no, i don’t want more pay; quite the opposite, really.” rafe’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “you’re not quitting are you?” he heard his heart beating in his ears at your lack of response.

“no, god no!” you placed a hand on his arm, “i’ve been looking for another job because i don’t want to be paid for taking care of ray anymore..” you met his gaze, running your nails against his skin. “why?” rafe couldn’t wrap his head around your words, his eyes darting across your face.

“you know, i’ve been taking care of ray since he was two, and he’s going to be five next week.. i’ve grown so close to him.” you smiled. “caring for him, cooking for him, playing with him, loving him, it isn’t a job for me.” you didn’t realize you were crying until rafe wiped your cheek ever so gently. “you love him?” rafe’s voice was barely above a whisper, his own tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

“i do, rafe. i love him so much.” you sniffled. “he called me mom the other day and i felt terrible ‘cause i bursted into tears on the spot, and he thought he made me sad but i was just overjoyed.” you laughed, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “i want you to know that i’m not trying to take the place of his mother, i would never do that..”

rafe knew ray called you mom. it wasn’t too long ago that ray said, ‘mommy made my favorite pancakes!’ when rafe asked him about his day and made his heart damn near stop in his chest when he heard the word fall from his son’s lips. “you’re the closest thing he has to a mother. i don’t even know how to thank you for that.” he leaned in, embracing you tightly.

you two stayed like this for a couple moments before you pulled away, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “i called mrs. anderson to set up a playdate with ray and her son, and do you want to know what she said?” you stifled a laugh as rafe relaxed into the couch. “what?” he admired the way you lit up while talking about ray.

“she said that ray was a little more on the wild side and that it would be in her son’s best interest if they didn’t hang out anymore.” you watched as rafe shrugged. “that little nerd was too boring, anyways.” you gasped, slapping his chest playfully. “rafe!” you whispered, both of you covering your mouths to keep from being too loud.

he quieted down, sighing to himself before looking up at the ceiling, you following suit. “i do worry about that sometimes. i feel like ray needs more of a permanent friend, like a sibling..” he trailed off, glancing at you only to see you were looking at him already. “a sibling?” you raised your eyebrows. “how would you go about that?” you cleared your throat, trying to ignore the smidge of jealousy that settled in the pit of your stomach.

“want me to explain to you how babies are made?” rafe scooted closer, his arm draping over your shoulders. “no need, i’m well aware.” you waved him off. “yeah?” he guided you on top of his lap, both of you looking at each other with dark swirling in your eyes. “tell me, y/n, ‘you ever think about having little ones?” his large hands came up to rub against your thighs.

rafe felt as if he was approaching that line he’s been wanting to cross since the first time he interviewed you all those years ago. “yes.” you let out a shaky breath when you felt rafe’s fingertips move under your blouse. “you would make such a good mother, you’d want that wouldn’t you?” you cupped his face as his lips ghosted over your own.

you moaned once he finally kissed you, both of your clothes coming off before you could have enough time to think. “gonna fill you up and make you have my babies, yeah?” he laid you down on the soft cushions, running the head of his cock between your wet folds. “yes, please.” you mewled, eyes shining with lust as he took your chin between his thumb.

“fuck, you’re so beautiful.” he covered your mouth, muffling the yelp that left your lips when he entered you slowly, your silky walls welcoming him inch by inch. his strokes were slow and full of intention, his arms caging you in while you two shared the kind of kisses that made your head spin. “been wanting you like this for so long.” he cursed under his breath.

you whimpered, arms wrapping around his neck as you trailed kisses across his jaw. the intimacy of having his body flush against yours wasn’t like anything you’ve ever experienced, your soft cries driving him on the brink of fucking you senseless. “oh, my god,” you clawed at his skin, making him hiss as he tugged at the roots of your hair to make you look up.

“i can see it already; all three of us going to the beach and rubbing on your round belly, all pretty and pregnant.” rafe picked up his pace, your hips now moving with his to meet his thrusts. “i want that so bad!” you nearly screamed when he started toying with your clit, both of you holding onto one another like your life depended on it.

“jesus, fuck-” his movements came to a halt before he placed your legs on his shoulders, leaning down until your thighs met the cushions underneath you. snaking an arm around your lower back, you gasped when he started lifting you up, fucking you onto his cock so he could reach deeper than before. “r-rafe!” your mouth fell open, eyes blinking slowly.

with one hand still rubbing your clit, and the head of his length continuously hitting your sweet spot, you found yourself approaching the edge of euphoria. rafe can tell by the way you were clenching around him that you were going to cum soon. “hold out a little longer for me, baby. ‘want you to cum when i fill you up.” he pressed a kiss to your temple, hips stuttering once the band in his stomach snapped.

burying his head in the curve of you neck, he moaned against your skin as he stilled, the head of his cock nudging your cervix. you felt the moment he finished, the hot ropes of his cum filling you to the hilt as your thighs started trembling. rafe clamped a hand over your mouth, whispering a ‘let me feel you cum around me.’ before you obliged, your orgasm hitting you in long waves of ecstasy.

you laid helplessly, trying your hardest not to scream at the intense feeling in your tummy, your eyes rolling back as he rubbed a soothing hand on your side. rafe helped you come down from your climax, the aftershocks of your orgasm making your body jolt with every stroke of his fingers against your skin. he stayed nestled inside of you, both of you embracing each other as your breathing slowed, sleep weighing heavy on your eyelids.

“you did so good for me, are you feeling okay?” you blinked up at him, a smile making its way to his lips when he saw the fucked out expression on your face. “mhmm, ‘don’t think i could get up though.” you hissed once he pulled out, watching as he slipped on his pants. “let’s get in the shower, you’re staying here.” he helped you up, putting his large button down over your shoulders.

rafe carried you upstairs, tiptoeing past ray’s room before both of you got in the shower, round two well underway. it wasn’t until you were laying rafe’s bed, adorned in one of his t-shirts that you two heard little ray’s voice outside the door. “daddy? can i come in?” rafe rubbed a reassuring hand on your arm, shouting a ‘yes, son!’ before ray strided inside, running up to you excitedly.

“can i sleep in here, pleaseee,” you embraced him, telling him yes before rafe could get the chance to tell him otherwise. “are you sleeping over?” the little boy peered up at you, wasting no time in settling under the comforter of rafe’s bed. you giggled, flashing rafe a look. “yes, i am.” ray looked over at his father, studying him for a minute.

you watched them have a silent conversation with their eyes, the scene making your heart melt. “goodnight, daddy,” he patted rafe’s chest, “..goodnight, mommy.” he pecked your cheek, the waterworks threatening to spill over at any moment. rafe reached over, taking your hand in his before he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “goodnight.”

[atlabeth]

plastic hearts

pt 2

pairing: spencer reid x fem!gideon reader

summary: spencer gets a front row seat to some gideon family matters.

a/n: full 100% credit to @hotchfiles for her gideon!reader idea and thank you sm for allowing me to take a stab at her w spence, i love messy women and this was actually so fun for me lmao. i owe you everything for getting me out of this mini writing slump!! this just reinforces the fact that arguments are my fav thing to write bc this came out of nowhere lmao

wc: 1.1k

warning(s): very messy family relationship lol gideon and reader argue the whole time. reader's got daddy issues and a one-sided grudge against spence. drama and tension and not a good time for anyone but me

“Gideon, I was looking over the most recent case file and I—” 

Spencer is just barely able to avoid stumbling over both his words and himself only after he’s walked halfway into Gideon’s office. He’s nowhere to be found, only a pretty girl around his age sitting in the chair across from his desk with taut lips and a frown that you turn on him. 

“You’re not Gideon,” Spencer says dumbly. 

“Very astute,” you say. “They clearly hire the best here.” 

“W— who are you, exactly?” he asks. “And why are you in Gideon’s office? And where is he?” 

“That’s a lot of questions.” You tilt your head to the side. “Not surprised he hasn’t talked about me.” 

And once again, Spencer finds himself just staring at you. He’s pouring over every interaction he’s had with Jason Gideon since he started working here, every knickknack and tchotchke he’s ever seen on his desk, any pictures he might’ve seen from glimpses at his wallet. 

“You’re Reid, right?” Your eyes narrow in, and despite being around you for no more than a minute, he already feels like he’s doing something wrong. “He talks about you a lot. Probably more than me.” 

“Spencer Reid,” he says. “Uh— Doctor Spencer Reid, actually, but—” Spencer blinks and shakes his head, because why are you the one leading the conversation here? “Who are you, exactly? Because Gideon doesn’t really like visitors and he never really has them anyway and I really have to talk to him about something, so if you could just tell me where he is that would be great.” 

“I don’t know, but I’m surprised you don’t. He seems to like you a lot more than he likes me.” You huff a laugh. “I’m supposed to be here. He probably just forgot about it.”

Spencer opens his mouth to ask you again to just please say your name because the last thing he needs on his hands right now is a security hazard with him as the first line of defense, but he’s saved by the bell, because Gideon walks in right at that moment. 

He stops in his tracks as soon as he crosses the threshold, the pile of files and folders in his hands losing his interest—Spencer doesn’t even think he sees him, the way his eyes immediately lock in on you. He says your name, and Spencer doesn’t have to be a profiler to pick up on the annoyance. He swears he gets a hint of guilt, too. 

“I didn’t know you were coming to the office today,” he says. 

“Figures,” you remark. “We only made plans a week in advance and I only emailed you three times and called you today to make sure. How could you possibly remember?”  

“I never got a call.” 

“You never picked up.” 

“I was busy,” he says. “This job—” 

“I know,” you intone dryly. “It’s always the job.” 

“Gideon, I have a question.”

Spencer knows it’s not the best time, but the tension has shot up and the temperature has shot down, and he would really like to get out of here as soon as possible. Gideon frowns as he looks at him, and if Spencer didn’t know who he was working with he would have thought he was noticing him for the first time. 

“How rude of me.” Gideon walks over to his desk, and his voice is oddly restrained as he gestures at you. “Reid, meet my daughter.” 

He doesn’t even get the chance to say that wasn’t his question, because his eyes nearly burst out of his head as Gideon says your name and, more importantly, your title. 

“Your— your daughter?” 

“There it is,” you say wryly. “It’s heartwarming to know how much you talk about me, Dad.” 

“We don’t need to do this right now,” Gideon says as he sets his files down. He looks more tired than usual. 

“No, I think we do.” You lean forward, resting your elbows on your legs. “Because you finally agreed to fit me into your schedule for once, and instead, I meet boy wonder before I meet you.” 

“You don’t need to bring Reid into this,” he says. 

“I think I do,” you repeat. “Because I know about him and his three PhDs and how he’s the youngest agent here, and he doesn’t even know my name.” You look at Reid, a falsely disarming smile spreading across your lips. “You didn’t know my name, did you? I mean, based on that reaction, I don’t think you knew he had a daughter.” 

Spencer’s mouth opens and nothing comes out. He looks at Gideon for help, and he lets out a deep sigh as he says your name.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “Can we reschedule?” 

“No,” you say. “I have a job of my own too, y’know. This was the only spot I could carve out to come see you—I’m blocked in for the next month.” 

“We just got a case,” he says. “We have to brief everyone and be out within the hour.”

“Of course,” you say bombastically. “You always have a goddamn case, Dad.” 

“I have no control over it,” Gideon says, his voice pained. “You know that.” 

“Maybe not over the case, but you have some pull here,” you say. “And you’re in full control when you decide not to pick up the phone.” 

“I didn’t ignore you,” he says, but you’re already shaking your head. 

“That’s not good enough.” You pick your purse up from the ground and sling it over your shoulder, and your glare shifts to Spencer. “Maybe I should get a job here. Maybe you’d give me the same attention you give to him.” 

Spencer blinks. He doesn’t know if he’s ever been more uncomfortable in this office, which is saying something with their field of work. 

“I— I’m sorry,” he stammers, because what else is he supposed to say?

You huff a mirthless laugh and shake your head. “At least one person is,” you mutter. 

You walk out without another word, and Spencer sees Gideon’s jaw clench for just a second. 

He calls out your name, mostly in annoyance with a hint of desperation, and he starts towards the door. He pauses before he can cross the threshold, and he looks at Spencer. 

“Not a word of this leaves this office.” 

Spencer nods far too many times in confirmation, and then Gideon dashes out. He hears him calling your name yet again in the distance. They have a new case, they’ll probably be on the jet within the hour, he still has these files in his hands and that unanswered question, and yet he’s rooted in place with wide eyes. 

“Gideon has a daughter?” he repeats quietly to himself. 

[woso-dreamzzz]

Study

Barcelona Femení x Teen!Reader

Summary: Doing schoolwork while the team is round is not a good idea

The sun patch you were lying in was delightful.

The noise around you, was not.

You opened your eyes blearily, narrowing them to slits in annoyance.

Lucy stared at you and then pointedly turned the tv up in volume, laughing at your disgruntled look.

"Turn it back down," You said.

"No."

"Lucy," You whined," Please turn it down."

"Sorry, kiddo," Keira said as she appeared," But the rest of the team are coming over soon and you've got an essay to write."

You groaned at the reminder but sat up. The whole reason you had taken a nap in the first place was to procrastinate about writing your essay.

"Keira..."

"No, y/n," She said," Part of the agreement we made with your parents was keeping your grades up. I won't make you sit at the kitchen table to write it while the team is round but you have to get it finished today."

You groaned again but relented, grabbing your laptop from where it was charging nearby and pulling up your plan.

Your teammates flooded in through the next hour.

Asisat tapped you on the head as she passed to get to the kitchen. "School work?"

You rolled your eyes. "What gave it away?"

She laughed. "The fact that you've been staring at the screen for nearly twenty minutes and haven't typed a thing."

You darted your eyes across the room to look at Keira, who clearly hadn't noticed. You sent an awkward smile Asisat's way. "Don't tell Keira?"

"Your secret's safe with me."

The more people that arrived, the less you wanted to write your essay. The whole apartment had filled up with noise and even if you wanted to start typing, you were much more interested in hearing Claudia talk about the date she went on with her girlfriend.

You start typing your introduction before deciding you really can't be bothered right now and switch to writing about how Mark Antony's relationship with Cleopatra was the worst thing he could have done from the perspective of other Romans.

You were mindlessly typing and deleting your work when Frido and Aitana joined you on the sofa.

"How is your studying?" Aitana's English was getting much better now that she came around routinely to learn from Keira while you were forced to sit at the table and do your science work.

You gave her a deadpan look. "Oh, just great."

Frido laughed at your sarcasm. "Anything we can help with?"

"Unless you understand the intricacies of Mark Antony and Octavian's war for power after Caesar's death, then no."

Frido pulled a face. "You're studying that?"

"In theory."

Marta and Caro joined a moment later with cans of lemonade and snacks. You snatched up a KitKat quickly, anything to distract you from your next paragraph about Octavian's slanderous propaganda against his rival.

"How is our little student faring?" Marta asked, peering at your screen where you had repeatedly typed out 'I hate this class so much, I wish I could drop out'.

"Not good by the looks of it," Caro said even though it was obvious," What even is this?"

"Ancient Roman politics," Frido replied," It looks very boring."

"It's interesting," You said," Until you have to start writing essays and decide which of these horrible men was better."

"Who is better?" Aitana asked.

"...Octavian, because he won," You replied," But not because he was a better person. This is Rome - if you're not a bad person then are you really an Ancient Roman politician?"

The little group around you burst into laughter and Marta ruffled your hair. "You'll get it finished," She said," You're a smart girl."

Team bonding happened around you for the evening as you mindlessly typed and typed and typed until you were finally finished with your essay.

You stretched out in delight and headed into the kitchen where a to-do list hung on the fridge.

Irene, Sandra and Mariona were already there, studying it curiously as you grabbed a pen from the top of the fridge (standing on your tiptoes to reach it) before you crossed off your Classical Civilisations essay.

"That's a lot of work," Mariona said," This is for the whole month?"

"This is for the week," You replied, taking in her shocked look at your words," But I'm nearly done." You crossed off the Physics homework you finished last night along with the Maths worksheet you got done before practice this morning.

"It gets this bad?" Irene asked," I worry about when Mateo starts school properly."

You frowned. "I'm pretty sure that Mateo getting homework will be doing a drawing rather than writing essays."

"Well, if it helps," Sandra cut in," At least you've finished your essay now! You're free!"

You shook your head and pointed to the only thing Lucy had contributed to your list.

FINISH YOUR FUCKING PSYCHOLOGY ESSAY

"It's about language development in infants," You said, opening the fridge and grabbing some more lemonade.

When you finally made your way back to the living room, your seat had been taken by some of the girls so you ended up sitting in front of the armchair that Ingrid and Mapi had taken refuge on.

Instantly, Ingrid's hands threaded through your hair, massaging your scalp before pulling strands out of your face and pulling them into an intricate braid.

Apart from ever so slightly making you move your head to different positions, you were left mostly alone as you typed away about more research studies using brain imaging.

Mapi shifted behind you and you could tell she was trying to read over your shoulder.

"Why do you need to learn this?" She asked.

"It's interesting," You replied," I thought about doing psychology at uni before Barca signed me. I just hate writing about it."

"It looks boring."

"It's not," You said. Ingrid tied off your new braid and you turned to look at Mapi with a wolfish smile. "Besides, is it boring for you because it hits too close to home? Since you're such a child?"

Mapi swatted at you jokingly, lightly kicking you in the back until you shifted away from her with your laptop.

You refuge came in the form of the pile on the floor in front of the tv. Bruna and Jana welcomed you into the group instantly and you found yourself sandwiched between Ona and Esmee, who were viciously going against each other in FIFA.

"Is your essay finished?" Esmee asked," Keira told me not to text you after practice because you were writing your essay."

"Nearly," You replied," I've just got one more paragraph and then the conclusion. Ona's about to score, by the way."

With your words, Esmee just managed to block the shot as Ona shoved you in annoyance.

Jana and Bruna broke into laughter and peered over your shoulder.

"You used the wrong word," Jana said, pointing to where you had been writing about Piaget.

"It's kind of embarrassing that you're correcting me on my own native language," You said to her even as you corrected yourself.

"Learn Spanish," Bruna said," She makes a lot of mistakes in that."

"No I don't!"

"Yes you do!"

"You so do," Ona said," And y/n, you've got your tenses wrong."

You hadn't even noticed that the match had ended and that Ona was studying your essay until she spoke. Esmee looked over it as well, pointing at another grammar mistake.

You slapped their hands away and pointed to each of you. "Stop it! It'll get spellchecked at the end! You're ruining my creative process!"

"What creative process?" Jana laughed," You're writing an essay!"

"I hate you!" You declared with a laugh," Each and every one of you!" You pointed at them each in turn.

"Don't lie!" Bruna said," You love us."

You bat your eyelashes at her. "Write my essay and you'll have my undying love!"

"No chance!"

You finished your essay soon after without any of their help (although you would be the first to admit that your conclusion wasn't exactly the best) and hurried to cross it off the list, snatching it off the fridge. You sought out Keira in a group of the older girls. You showed her the list.

"I'm done!"

She took it from you, looking it over sceptically.

"And your psychology essay?"

"Yes!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! Keira, promise!"

"She promises, Keira!" Patri mocked your tone with a smile as Claudia and Gemma laughed.

You were one second away from stamping your foot but you refrained because you would never live down the 'little kid' allegations from your teammates if you did so.

"Look at this face!" Gemma said, cupping your cheeks," How could you be mean to this one?"

Keira had a contemplative look on her face.

"Come on, Keira," Claudia said," It's the weekend. We have a match in two days. She's been doing her work since we arrived. Let her have this."

"She could have had it finished before you all arrived if she hadn't taken a nap after practice."

"She's a growing girl!" Patri declared," She needs her nap so she can be big and strong like me when she grows up!"

An arm was thrown over your shoulder and you bit back your retort that the world couldn't handle two versions of Patri.

"Oh...fine, then. y/n go let Narla out of your room and then you're free for the rest of the day."

"Yes!" You pumped your fist into the air and hurried off.

Narla had been shut into your room the moment you came home after Keira watched you play with the little dog instead of doing your homework so she seemed very happy to be free, leaping into your arms like a little princess and making you walk her into the living room.

Salma and Cata intercepted you on the way, cooing over Narla like they had never met her before even though they had.

"It's strange to see you without your laptop," Cata said to you as she tickled under Narla's chin," I thought that it was surgically attached to you or something."

You would have shoved her if you had access to your hands but you didn't so settled for an unimpressed eyeroll. "Ha, ha, very funny. Make fun of my massive workload. I don't see you studying while playing football!"

"You know," Salma said and you already knew she was going to say something to tease you," When I was your age, I didn't have to worry about deadlines because I just did my work the day it got set."

You scoffed. "You're only three years older than me!" You stuck your tongue out at her. "If you want to write my essays for me, Salma, you should have just asked."

Her nose wrinkled in disgust. "That sounds like hell on earth."

You laughed all the way back to the living room, placing Narla on the floor and grabbing some snacks from the table when nobody was looking. You ended up on the floor for the most part, sat by Lucy's chair as the older woman sat above you, occasionally reaching down to feed you chocolate when she was sure Keira wasn't looking. But as it got later in the evening, you ended up migrating onto the sofa with Alexia.

"I heard you finished all your schoolwork for the week," She said as you lazed against her side, watching whatever Spanish soap opera Patri had forced onto the tv.

"Uh-huh." You were only half listening as you dozed off. Her nails scratched lightly at your scalp and the blanket that had been thrown over the pair of you made you feel all cosy and warm.

"Well done, y/n. I'm very proud of you."

"Thank you," You slurred slightly, head dropping to her shoulder as your vision got blurrier and blurrier.

"Are you tired, bebita?"

"No..."

Her chuckle jolted her body slightly but it was a little like the vibrations from being in a car so your eyes just drooped lower. "I think you are."

"Not...Not tired."

"You are. I think all that studying took it out of you."

"No..." You whined slightly and Alexia pulled you in a bit tighter. She manipulated your body in some way you didn't realise because you blinked and suddenly you were lying stretched out with your head in her lap. "I'm...I'm not tired."

You had already missed out on team bonding because of your studying. You didn't want to miss out on any more.

"You are very tired." Alexia's tone was firm but still somehow soothing and her nails drew patterns on your arm comfortingly. "You just need a little nap."

You tried to protest but Alexia's voice just got a bit firmer and a bit more like her captain voice so you knew that you couldn't argue back.

"Come on, bebita. It's nap time for good students like you. I'll wake you up when the food gets here."

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 31 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Everything starts to get very real once you're able to feel the baby move. It's time to share the news of your second pregnancy with family and friends, but it's hard to feel elated when Bradley starts showing attention to one of his pilots after work hours.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, oral sex, pregnancy topics, mentions abortion, lactation kink, jealousy, drinking

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

If you weren't pregnant and exhausted, Bradley would have been concerned by how quiet you were. You seemed to need a nap as soon as you got home from work, and then you wanted to go to bed right after Rose went down in her crib each evening. When he got home quite late on Friday after working on some transfer paperwork for several hours, he was surprised to find that you seemed a little more upbeat than usual.

"Hey, Roo."

You were wearing a pair of his gym shorts while you made dinner. The house smelled delicious, and his stomach started growling as soon as he walked inside. He picked Rose up from her playmat, taking her into the kitchen as he smothered her in kisses before transferring them to you.

"You feeling okay? How's Nugget Part Deux?"

"We're exhausted. Rose is the only one with energy right now."

He supposed that was better than you telling him you couldn't stop throwing up. So far, baby number two seemed to be giving you less grief when it came to eating. "We can nap all weekend," he promised. "How was your day?"

"Pretty good," you told him with a shrug. "How was your day?"

He glanced out the back door at the enormous jungle gym, eyeing it up as an option for him and Rose to play after dinner. "Just busy. Everyone keeps me on my toes all day long. These pilots are really talented."

You seemed to wrinkle your nose at his words, staring at the food cooking on the stove as you muttered, "I'll bet they are."

Rose seemed keen on the idea of the backyard, so he kissed her soft cheek. "Yeah, I can barely keep up with them in the air, but don't tell them that. I've got my head on a swivel the whole time. Indigo and Rex nearly took me out today, and I had to go into a dive. And starting on Monday, I'm going to give myself some extra office hours to stay on top of my paperwork."

Instead of responding about his day, you started to dish out the food onto two plates with your back turned to him. "After we eat, I need to call my parents before it's too late. They're putting their house on the market next week, and I think I'm just going to tell them I'm pregnant and get it over with. I've put it off long enough."

Bradley's brow creased. "They'll be excited though. Right? I mean, maybe not as excited as me, but still excited."

You shrugged again, and he thought he might lose his mind if you kept doing it. "Aren't you at least a little worried there could be some sort of complications from having them so close together?"

A sardonic laugh almost burst from his lips. "Baby Girl, I worry about you and Rosie and the new baby constantly. Okay? Nonstop. But we can't go back now. You're already almost in the second trimester. Hey," he said, swallowing hard as you finally turned and looked at him. He held Rose just a little tighter as he whispered, "We're married. We're happy, right? You're not actually thinking about ending your pregnancy, are you?"

"No," you replied quickly, shaking your head. Bradley desperately wanted to know if there was some way he could make this easier for you, because he didn't want you to resent what was happening. But you just started crying as you shrugged again. "I just feel like our timing is terrible. And I know I have to start telling people, because I'm already showing a little bit, but I'm just so frustrated, Bradley."

He never dreamed the two of you would go from trying for months to get pregnant with Rose to being frustrated about a second pregnancy, but here you were. "I realize you've got to do most of the work right now, but when I tell you that I want another baby and that I'm excited about this, I mean it."

"I know!" you whispered quickly. "I know." You swiped at your tears before wrapping your arms around him and Rose.

"Is something else bothering you?" he murmured when your cheek came to rest on his bicep. He couldn't imagine what else could be the matter, but he needed to make sure. 

You were silent for a few beats before whispering, "I'm fine. Let's facetime my parents."

For how excited your mom was to move to California, she didn't seem to notice that your eyes looked like you'd been crying. She kept talking about selling their furniture and packing everything up. She mentioned how much she wanted to see Rose in person as she fussed over her on the video call. Just as she was starting to discuss their new house in Coronado that would make them his neighbors, Bradley heard you blurt out, "I'm pregnant."

Your parents both looked stunned on the other end of the call. "You're pregnant," your mom said, eyes drifting back to Rose in Bradley's arms. "Already?"

Now both parents were staring at Bradley as he said, "Yeah... due in April."

"April Fool's Day," you said softly.

Your parents broke out into twin grins. "I'm assuming this was a surprise to the two of you?" your dad asked. When you nodded silently, he added, "A happy surprise at least! Congratulations. You're about to have your hands very full."

"It's a good thing we're moving!" your mom practically shrieked. "Two under two! Two babies! What if you have twins?"

"We're not," Bradley replied. Then he froze. "It's not twins. Right, Sweetheart?" Now he was a little scared as you turned to look at him and laugh.

"There was just one heartbeat, Roo. Just one."

His shoulders sagged in relief. "I mean, the more the merrier, but that would be a lot."

He let Rose nap against his chest while he rubbed circles against your lower back, and soon enough, your parents were ending the call with the promise that they would be in Coronado for Christmas. "We'll either be living there by then or we'll fly out for the holiday if our house here hasn't sold yet."

Everything sounded good to Bradley, and five minutes after the call ended, you fell asleep on him, too.

----------------------------

When you fell asleep on Cam's shoulder at brunch on Sunday, you figured it was time to tell him and Maria what was going on.

"I'm pregnant. Again."

Maria jumped out of her seat to cram into the opposite of the booth, sandwiching you between her and Cam. "Damn, girl! You've wasted no time!"

"Lieutenant Commander Mustache is working with some high fucking quality goods, huh?" Cam marveled, shaking his head slowly in reverence. "Congratulations."

"Thanks," you whispered, voice harsh and near tears. You had no control over your emotions. This was just like when you were pregnant with Rose, but with less vomiting and more fatigue. Everything made you upset enough that you wanted to cry or angry enough that you wanted to kick down a door. Including your husband.

You answered Cam and Maria's questions as you thought about that woman you'd seen around base with Bradley a few times. They were never alone, always part of a larger group, but you didn't like how she looked at him. And you didn't want to mention it to him, because you knew how ridiculous it was going to sound.

"Hey, I'm really tired," you eventually told your friends. "Do this again in two weeks?" You wanted to go home and nap while Bradley still had Rose out for a walk along the beach. You just wanted to be alone.

"Of course," Maria promised. "I'll text Bob to come pick me up, but you two can go on ahead."

"I'll wait with you," Cam told her, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You made your way out and went home, leaning against the front door in relief when you found the house completely empty. Even Tramp and his yellow leash were gone. You ran to bed, curled up under the covers, and cradled your hand against your belly. It was impossible to tell if you had a baby bump, or if you were still chubby from last time. 

Your thumb ran along the top of your leggings as you started to cry. You needed to pull yourself together. Did you cry this much with Rose? Did everything make you feel like you looked disgusting? Eventually you dozed for about an hour before the sound of the front door closing jolted you awake. Rose started screaming, probably hungry after being out for so long. You rolled out of bed, avoiding your reflection in the mirror at all costs, and went to meet them in the kitchen.

Bradley was trying to bounce Rose to keep her quiet, but you yanked your shirt off and reached for her. "Sorry," he muttered as your daughter latched on to eat as soon as she was touching you. "I tried."

"It's okay." 

You fed one baby while you considered that her younger sibling was growing inside you, and for once, you couldn't figure out if you wanted to laugh or cry. 

While she ate, Bradley looked at his phone and groaned. "Nat wants us to go to the Hard Deck tonight."

The idea of going out and pretending that you were drinking alcohol was too much to handle. Even if you could find someone to watch Rose, it didn't sound like a fun time.

"You go," you told him.

He glanced up and said, "I don't want to go without you."

A smile graced your lips as you told him, "Just go for one drink with your best friend. I'll drop you off and pick you up. You can tell her I'm pregnant if you want to."

"Really?" he asked, perking up like Tramp did when presented with a treat.

"Yeah. I told Maria and Cam earlier. I actually fell asleep on his shoulder in the booth, and when I woke up, they were both gaping at me. I figured I needed to say something."

Bradley snorted. "What did they have to say about Bradshaw Baby number two?"

"Cam is under the impression that you are working with some high quality equipment."

He burst into laughter. "I mean..."

You rolled your eyes as Rose switched to your other side. It was easy to feel better about things when it was just the three of you at home. You looked at your husband as he ate an apple in four bites and convinced yourself he would never do anything to hurt you. Then he drank half a beer and belched while he adjusted his junk, and you thought perhaps nobody else would want to deal with him anyway.

"I'll text Nat back. Then I'll pull the weeds around the playset while I decide what I'm doing about the bar."

You let Rose take a nap, but now that you'd also had one, you felt a little restless. Even after you did a few chores, including looking at items for a second baby nursery online, you wanted to get out of the house again. When Bradley came inside, stripping his sweaty shirt over his head, he said, "One drink. Don't leave me there too long, okay?"

"Is Jake going, too? Maybe I'll see if Cat and Jer are home and want visitors."

"That's a great idea," he replied, taking your hand when he walked past. When he gave you a little tug, you didn't move. "You coming?" he asked, clearly puzzled. 

"Where?"

"What do you mean where?" he scoffed, tugging again. "To take a shower with me while Rose naps. Where else?"

It was hard to think about anything when your husband was on his knees in front of you, steamy water swirling around his tattooed bicep while his hands pinned you to the tile wall. But it was especially hard to focus on anything other than the feel of his mouth on your body. The scrape of his mustache. The pull of his lips. Soft and demanding and needy.

"Roo," you gasped, lungs full of the humid air, sucking in deep breaths as he looked up at you.

"God, Baby Girl," he rasped, thumb teasing your dainty rooster tattoo. "I'm so spoiled. Your tits look so pretty, and your belly will be big again soon."

You let your fingers drag through his wet curls, pushing them back from his forehead while he kissed the spot where you felt so tender as the baby grew.

"Roo!" you gasped, your hands both flying to your belly. "The baby! I can feel the baby moving!"

"Shit, really?"

His eyes were wide, alert with anticipation as you moved his palm to the spot where you could feel squirming. He eased himself closer on his knees, the shower hitting both of you with warm spray while he let you guide him. You felt it again, just another squirm as you pressed his palm harder to your belly.

"Right there," you whispered, and he closed his eyes. Your heart beat in your ears, an undeniably excited rhythm.

"I can't wait to feel it, too," he murmured, his cheek coming to rest against his hand. "You couldn't feel Rose this early."

"No," you agreed, watching your husband fall even more in love with the unborn baby. "Maybe another week or two and they'll be big enough for you to feel it." You played with his hair, letting him stay put until the water started to get cold.

-------------------------------

"I'll pick you up in a little while," you informed Bradley when you pulled into the parking lot at the Hard Deck. "Jake is already here, so I'll take Rose to hang out with Cat and Jer for a bit."

"Sounds good." He kissed you before unbuckling and leaning into the backseat to kiss his daughter. He was still shocked and in a mild daze over the baby moving during the shower. He wanted to feel those kicks against his palm, and now he'd be all over you in the upcoming weeks, looking for his chance. 

"Have fun," you called before pulling away in your Bronco, but going to the bar to hang out without you was not his idea of a great night. He decided he'd just wait and see how the evening progressed before making a decision about telling Nat about the pregnancy. He smiled as he wondered how long it would be until you had to start wearing the maternity tent to work again.

"There you are!" shouted Nat when he walked past the bar, waving to Penny. "We're about to play pairs. You're with Hangman. Rack 'em, Rooster."

Bradley sighed and took the pool cue as she thrust it into his hand. "Can't I get a beer first?"

She turned and shouted, "Hey, Coyote! Get Rooster one!"

Javy saluted him from the bar as Bradley nodded and settled in to start the game. He and Jake wouldn't even have to try too hard to beat Nat and Reuben, but as he got into the groove of things, he realized he was having a pretty good time.

"You want another?" Jake asked him, and soon one beer turned into three. Bradley ended up buying the fourth round for his friends when Mickey arrived. He had enough in his system to not give a shit when Jake started ribbing on him for his new position at work.

"The way your students all jump to attention when they see you has got to be the funniest fucking thing I've ever seen in my life," he drawled, and Bradley nudged his foot, making him miss his shot.

"I'm still in shock that Cat agreed to marry you," Bradley replied before taking a sip of beer.

Jake rolled his eyes. "I'm surprised Angel let you get her pregnant. Shocked the baby didn't come out with a mustache."

Nat was cackling while Bradley snorted. "She's pregnant again." The words slipped out, but they felt too fucking good on his tongue, just like your body had in the shower.

"What?!"

He was instantly surrounded by his friends while Nat wrapped him up in a hug. "Are you serious? Another one so soon?" she asked with a suspicious looking smirk.

"Yeah," he replied, letting her squeeze him until he thought she might displace a rib. "Apparently I'm working with some high quality equipment."

"Ew!" Nat shrieked, letting go of him while Jake shook his hand. 

"Poor Angel," he drawled. "She'll have another little Bradshaw on the loose soon."

"Whiskey shots on me," Reuben said, slapping Bradley hard on the back.

"Thanks, man," he replied while conversation about the baby settled to a normal volume. He drank his shot of whiskey, and that's when he realized he was actually kind of drunk.

The game of pool wore on, but nobody seemed to be keeping track of who won. So he kept going until his phone vibrated in his jeans pocket.

Baby Girl Bradshaw: I'm almost there. Rose fell asleep.

"I have to run," Bradley announced, dropping his cue into Jake's hand. 

"You're so fucking whipped," Jake drawled. "Get out of here and knock your wife up again.... oh, wait."

Bradley gave him and everyone else double middle fingers behind his back as he walked toward the exit. He was tired and warm and buzzed, and he wanted to curl up next to you in bed and kiss the back of your neck. And maybe you'd let him look at your gorgeous tits. Maybe if he was really good, you'd let him taste you. The evening air hit his body, igniting so much need in him.

"Oh, sorry," he grunted, nearly plowing over someone in his rush to get to the parking lot.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," came a now familiar voice. Blue eyes flashed up at him along with a smile that kept growing.

Indigo was dressed in street clothes, but he tried not to take notice as he nodded. "I knew you'd find The Hard Deck without my help."

She laughed, bright and clear as he tried to step past her. "Don't tell me you're leaving for the night."

A little pout found her lips, and Bradley nodded. "Yeah. It's getting late for a Sunday."

"Come on," she whined, the back of her hand brushing his as he made his way around her. "Let me buy you one drink."

His mind was still gooey with thoughts of taking you to bed as he shook his head. "Thanks, but I really need to go. Enjoy your night."

Then Nat burst through the door, movements slowing when she met his eyes. "You left your phone on the pool table." She tossed it to him, coordination pretty good for how much she'd had to drink. She started backing up toward the door as she said, "You better go home with your pregnant wife!"

Bradley smiled at his friend, but he could feel Indigo's eyes on him as he stepped off the deck toward the parking lot. And there you were, standing in the first aisle with your back against the red Bronco. Your lips were set in a firm line, and Bradley was about to make it his personal mission to kiss away that expression.

------------------------------

That younger woman was here with him. You'd seen her around base plenty of times lately, but now she was here. At the Hard Deck. At your favorite bar in your neighborhood. She was with your husband at the bar. They were already standing there together when you drove up and parked.

"Who is that woman?" you snapped at Bradley who was clearly drunk. His hands were all over your waist and hips as soon as he reached you.

"Hey, Sweetheart." His voice was deep and sexy, and you wanted nothing more than to melt into him, but she was still staring you down.

"Who. Is. She?" you hissed, your eyes starting to burn with unshed tears as you stared back. Bradley was kissing your neck now as the woman finally turned and went inside the bar. You already knew who she was. You were sure of it. You'd heard him use her call sign countless times, but you wanted him to say it now. "Bradley!"

"Huh?" he grunted, meeting your eyes.

"Who is that woman you were just with?"

"Natasha?" he asked, and you wanted to scream.

"The other woman, Bradley."

"Oh. That's Indigo."

Your heart sank as soon as he confirmed it for you, but he didn't seem to notice or care that you suddenly felt like your skin was on fire. That woman who was still so fresh out of flight school was already a top pilot, and she was beautiful, and she wanted your husband.

"Baby Girl," he moaned next to your ear. "Let's go home. Maybe we can get in bed and snuggle while I try to feel the baby move? Or you could let me finish what we started in the shower? I'm already so wound up."

You opened the passenger side door for him, slamming it shut as soon as he was inside. You glared at the entrance to the Hard Deck before heading around the Bronco to drive him home.

-----------------------------

Either way, it still looks bad, Bradley. We are riding along with all of BG's emotions, and it's a lot to handle. Thanks for reading. More coming soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[shurisasthmaticgf]

calling my boyfriend my husband to see his reaction: lando norris x black fem social media influencer! reader

authors note: lets all pretend this trend isn't old now :) also feedback is highly appreciated and encouraged 🫶🏽

tw// anxiety mention, internet translated spanish

you looked into the lens of your vlogging camera and sighed deeply in frustration, bringing your hands to your head and smoothing your palms over your slicked back hair. nearly a year ago you'd made reservations to visit the Canary Islands with your best friend as a girls trip. when the two of you were younger you'd learned about the islands during a geography class and promised one another that you'd visit when you all were older. the reality of being an adult in your young 20s hit harder than a freight train and the two of you nearly gave up on the trip as a whole because it was so costly. however, when your social media career took off and the brand endorsements, monetization, partnerships, and other deals rolled in the ability to take the trip became a reality.

now, you were only a week away from flying into Gran Canaria and of course a problem came up with the reservation for your first hotel. you explained in a whisper to the camera in front of you, "so i've been trying to fix this problem with our reservations. basically, they've cancelled one of the rooms and i've been emailing back and forth for two days and it's not getting anywhere so i'm gonna go call on the phone and see if that works better." you held your phone in one hand and paced around your hotel room, adding and taking things out of your suitcase nervously.

you muted yourself and picked up your camera to move to another room instead. peeking from behind the door your spoke quietly, "well, while we wait for someone to answer i've been wanting to do this tiktok trend and lando isn't doing anything...oddly enough so i'm taking my chance." a smile crept onto your face as your rounded the corner and saw your boyfriend sitting on the sofa typing away on his laptop. you placed your vlogging camera down on the table in the middle of the room so it still showed you in the frame. then, you moved and sat on the other end of the sofa and stretched your legs out so your feet were just touching the side of his thigh. he lightly flicked your socked foot with one of his fingers and wrinkled his nose, "your feet stink." the eye roll you made made him laugh and you shot back, "you're just smelling your upper lip." he pulled one of the throw pillows from behind his back and tossed it lightly at your face, "no that's your feet, you muppet." you burst into a fit of laughter and pulled the pillow into your chest, squeezing it when you heard the hold music stop on your phone.

an older man on the other line answered, "hello miss?" you unmuted yourself and responded, "yes?" he quickly informed you, "all of our english speaking representatives are busy right now please continue to hold." before you could even respond he put you back on hold making you clench your fist and raise it to the phone. your boyfriend asked you, "what's going on?" you swallowed back your frustration and explained, "the reservations jada and I have for our first hotel were cancelled or something because they're not showing up in my email or anything and i've been trying to sort it out for two days over email and nothing worked so now i'm calling and they don't have any representatives available. i told them i can use a spanish speaker but they cut me off and i just don't have time for this. i'm freaking out because we get back to monaco in two days and the guest room isn't ready and jada is flying in right after we get back. and on top of it i didn't remember to book a hair appointment while we were here so i'm gonna have to go on vacation with my natural hair- i'm gonna have to wear a swim cap in the ocean-" the minute that last realization dawned on you tears began to well in your eyes. you felt your stomach drop and your chest tighten as you were reminded of the many things you had to get done in a short time span. a heavy feeling of panic coursed through your veins in the most nauseating and unsettling way possible.

before you could even spiral further into a full blown anxiety attack lando cut you off, "hey hey take a deep breath. relax for me okay? don't get yourself worked up, we can fix this, yeah?" he held one of your socked feet in his hand, his thumb and pointer finger pressing into a specific spot on your foot out of routine habit. he asked you, "do you remember i had to put two of the reservations under my name?" when your brows furrowed he reminded you, "they were telling you that there weren't any rooms available so we called back later and they found a room for you and under my name." suddenly you did in fact remember that small detail from a year ago that slipped your mind the minute after it was handled. a soft, "oh....y'know after you said that it's now starting to ring some bells." an awkward laugh fell past your lips and you wiped the tear that only made it halfway down your cheek.

lando let his thumb rub circular motions into the pressure point on your foot as he continued, "baby, don't worry about your hair, we can find a stylist to do it before we leave even if you have to stay an extra day and fly back without me. when we get home i'll help you pack your bags so it can get done faster, okay? the guest room is ready because i set it up before we left because i knew you'd worry. everything will be fine, angel." you sniffled and mumbled through a pout, "thank you..." you slowed your breathing, thanking the gods above that your boyfriend was literally perfect.

right as you were about to thank lando, the representative on the phone ended the hold music. quickly you picked up the phone and rushed out, "hello? hola?" a woman now spoke on the other line, "buenos días señora. me dijeron que creías que una de sus reservas había sido cancelada sin su aprobación, ¿es correcto?" you immediately switched from english and answered, "sí, me equivoqué. mi esposo colocó la reserva a su nombre en lugar del mío cuando hicimos la reserva el año pasado. " "Good morning ma'am. They told me that you believed one of their bookings had been cancelled without their approval, is that correct?" // "Yes, I was wrong. My husband placed the reservation in his name instead of mine when we made the reservation last year."

lando's head shot up from his laptop when he heard the word "esposo". although his spanish vocabulary was extremely limited, he recognized a few words, and he knew for a fact that you just called him your husband. you pretended not to notice him staring at you as the representative responded, "entiendo que esto sucede muy a menudo con nuestros huéspedes y sus cónyuges." you lightly chuckled and replied, "sí, ¡especialmente cuando la reserva se hizo hace tanto tiempo! pero, antes de colgar. ¿podrían confirmar la reserva si les digo el nombre de mi esposo?" I understand that this happens very often with our guests and their spouses. // yes, especially when the reservation was made so long ago! but, before hanging up. could you confirm the booking if I tell you my husband's name?

your boyfriend watched mesmerized as the foreign language fell effortlessly past your lips. studying in both high school and university left you with a high level of understanding to the point where you could speak well if you chose to...much to his dismay, you often refused because you were convinced you didn't "speak it right". in the back of your head you knew he'd remind you of this as a way to hear you speak spanish more often, even if he didn't understand much of it.

the representative asked in english, "what is the name?" you tried to hide the smug tone and grin as you responded clearly, "my husband's name is lando norris." your eyes remained glued on the pillow between your arms until you slowly dragged your gaze to meet his. that same look that made his whole body heat up with one simple stare, and if you hadn't lifted your head and smiled brightly things would have turned out much differently in that moment. the representative snapped him out of his thoughts when he happily confirmed that the reservation still stood before you hung up.

not even a second after your phone was off lando looked at you expectantly making you laugh. pretending not to notice anything you stood up and said, "i'm going to go call jada and tell her everything is fine." as you shuffled away lando stood up and looped his thumb gently through the strands of beads that sat between your waist and hips. you turned to face him and felt his warm hands against the small of your back, toying with the glass beads until he felt the one he claimed as his. you shyly asked, "why are you staring at me like that?"

your boyfriend asked, "your husband? you want to marry me?" you turned your head away to dodge his kisses and said playfully, "no i just said that so the guy would give me the information i wanted. it was a name drop and a tiktok trend, nothing more." lando slipped his hands from beneath your shirt and squeezed your side suddenly making you jump in surprise, "stop it that tickles!" he pushed you gently back to the sofa, not letting up and saying, "not until you admit that you actually love me." you tapped out on his back and caved not even ten seconds later, "fine! i love you now stop it i can't breathe!" instantly his hands were off of your stomach and grinned cheekily, "i love you too."

fans reactions to the vlog upload:

[primofate]

Time: 3:00 am

Status: can't sleep. Sudden urge to write something. Here goes.

Timer: 10 minutes

Actual time: 28 minutes

Warning: might be messy and rushed

Characters: Wriothesley x gn!reader

"Do you remember when I first met you?"

"...bits and pieces. It isn't very clear in my mind anymore," you reply rather curtly.

There's a short pause of silence at the dinner table, your cutlery and his cease to move as the two of you try to piece the event together.

Wriothesley chuckles and recounts the events with detail "It was one of those spring nights. Breezy, nice weather, sun wasn't up too high in the morning so the night was cool," as you continue to eat, he has stopped for the moment. "I was cut up from head to toe, small scratches everywhere. Some trouble with the meka that day,"

You raise your eyes up from the food, suddenly getting a wave of nostalgia as you recognize the moment all too clearly.

"On my way back to the Fortress I ran into you. All tidy and clean, box in your hands, looking up at me blankly. Do you remember what you said?"

You stifle a smile, because this part, you remember all too well.

"Here's your tea," the two of you say in unison, followed by a small laugh from you.

"...you left it in my hands, and then walked away as if it was the most normal day in your life. Like you never even saw me injured,"

"In my defense, you didn't look like you were in pain at all,"

He raises an eyebrow, meeting your gaze and ignoring your comment altogether. "I was suddenly obsessed with who you were. It wasn't as if you were trying to be mysterious, but who was this uncaring person standing at the Fortress entrance with my box of tea? I had to know,"

"Uncaring isn't quite the word for it. I was tired," you gently explained.

Yet again he continues as if not hearing you, "Only to find out the following week that my exotic tea dealer carefully hand picked herbs and mixed them, then personally delivers them to their customer's door. Lovely service. You remember what happened after that?"

Wriothesley's gaze on you is soft, with a hint of mischief on it, one that you returned. "I got orders. Tons of it. All to the Fortress of Meropide. I was there nearly every day doing deliveries,"

"Mmhmm. And then?" There's a chuckle on his lips, amused that you had taken over telling the story.

"And then one day I got fed up, asked to see the duke, burst into his office and said "Why don't you make your orders all in one go?!""

The scene in your mind is vivid now. The anger you felt at that moment whiplashed into your memory. It had been tiring, to go there everyday, only to deliver a miniscule amount of tea.

"And I said...?" Wriothesley has opted to lay his head on his fist, smile playing on his lips as you close the story.

You roll your eyes, "Here's your tea," but couldn't help the laughter that escaped your lips. "Poured me a cup as if you've never seen an angry person before. I was fuming!"

"It worked didn't it?" He had gone back to his food, hands now busy with cutting, smile still on his face. "I wasn't sure how to meet you again so I had ordered a box of tea for every day...that day you burst into my office? I just happened to be there at the right time, it was the first time in days I'd been able to sit and prep tea for myself. It was busy,"

"Or so you say,"

He chuckles at your suspicious look. "I made up for it, didn't I? The rest of the orders I placed, I personally picked them up from your store,"

"Everyday," you recall fondly.

"Every single day, I found time. And I'd do it all over again, in that same way, same words," he sounded like he was done talking, but him being the charmer that he is, added "except maybe I would've kissed you earlier. By the 24th order, maybe?"

You kick his leg from under the table. He hides his amusement with a short bark of laughter.

[silent-stories]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Summary: Noah loves the sound of your laughter, so he finds a way to show it using the way he knows best: through music.

Noah had grown up tuned into sounds - beats and melodies, harmonies - but nothing was quite like the sound of your laughter. Bright, effortless, so full of life, it always left him out of breath. There was something to the way it filled the air, soft but vibrant, that lightened everything, made the world pause and listen itself.

He can't exactly remember the exact moment he understood just how much he admired your laughter. Maybe that was in the beginning, when you were both still getting to know each other.

It had started small, an easy smile tugging at his lips every time he heard that now familiar lilt of your voice bubbled up with laughter. In time, it became more than something he liked; it became a sound he craved.

It was like that time in the kitchen, that late afternoon spent trying to make dinner together after a long day-you insisted on cooking from scratch, and he joined in, never wanting to miss any second being with you.

Neither one of you was great at following a recipe to begin with, and between mixing ingredients and attempting to chop vegetables, things went haywire. In one swift motion, sauce he was stirring splashed out of the pot onto the counter, the wall, and of course, right onto your shirt.

There was a moment of stunned silence, and he thought he might have upset you. But then you threw your head back and laughed-this rich, uninhibited noise that permeated the entire space.

"Look what you did!" you exclaimed, nearly unable to breathe through your laughs as you pointed at the mess: flour on the floor, veggies strewn across the counter, and sauce now decorating your clothes.

"Oh, so it's my fault now?"

"Yes! Because you said that you would do this with me!"

Noah couldn't help himself; he joined in, his cheeks aching from smiling. He couldn't have cared less that dinner was ruined or how you both looked like a disaster.

Your laughter just made everything seem like it was perfect. It was the kind of moment which, when all cleaned up, he would continue to remember.

For with every such laughter, it was as if his world brightened up-as if all the petty vexations of the day dissolved into the warmth of being close to you.

It wasn't only in the kitchen, though. It was everywhere. When he was out on the road, touring with the band, those late-night phone calls were what he lived for. No matter how tired he was, no matter how much the road had drained him, hearing your voice on the other end of the line always pulled him back to life.

He would listen to you about your day-sometimes mundane information, like what you had for lunch, and sometimes funny stories from work. But every time you would be laughing, it would just feel magical.

That sound, soft yet clear, set his heart racing in all the right ways. Closing his eyes on the starched hotel bed, he let your laughter wash over him-as one would a melody-even over the line, it was tethersomething real and grounding when all else felt so far away.

And those moments-those bursts of laughter-weren't just some ephemeral noises to him. They reverberated long after the call had ended, playing in his head as he lay awake, when he sat on the tour bus staring out the window, thinking about home.

And you were his home, really.

Even back when you were both in the band, even with just hangouts on pizza nights, your laugh stood out to him. A room could be filled with chatter, music, noise, but all it took was for you to find something funny and his attention would snap to you.

You'd cover your mouth trying to stifle the sound, but it just made it more adorable. He would watch the way your eyes crinkled, how your whole face seemed to light up with every peal of laughter, and it's just like the rest of the world faded into the background.

It was a song, one he carried deep in his heart even when you weren't by his side.

But nothing was comparable to the sound of your laugh when it was just the two of you, late at night, tangled together in bed. He loved quiet moments most-when the world outside braked and it was just you, wrapped up in him.

And then, when he buried his face into the crook of your neck, letting his hair tickle your skin, you squirmed at first, trying to wriggle away, but you could never hold it for long. Then it would come, that soft, breathy laugh you couldn't hold in.

It wasn't like those you had given publicly, but more intimate, reserved only for him. You giggle as he presses kisses against your collarbone, your fingers threading through his hair, and he feels that sound vibrate through you, through him.

Noah couldn't explain it, but in those moments, with his head leaned against your chest, your heartbeat steady beneath his ear, and your laughter quietly filling the space, everything felt right. He'd listen to it soak it in, and know, without a doubt, there was nowhere else he wanted to be.

That's really why he did it.

One evening, he asked you to listen to something. It wasn't unusual-he'd often play you demos or rough cuts of songs he was working on, wanting to hear your thoughts. But this time, he seemed nervous, more hesitant than usual as he handed you his headphones.

You raised an eyebrow-a curious smile tugged at your lips. "What's this?

"Just something I've been working on," he said, all but sheepish, which wasn't like him at all. You could tell by the way he avoided your eyes, fidgeting slightly. "I, uh, I wanted you to hear it first.

You slipped the headphones on curiously, knowing already that your heart was going to beat faster when the music started. It began slow, a soft melodic riff of the guitar that felt warm and familiar-like Noah's usual style. Then, layered softly beneath the instruments, you heard it, a sound that made you stop.

Your laugh.

It was subtle, mixed carefully into the track, but there was no mistaking it. A soft, airy laugh, your laugh, from some time when you couldn't remember being recorded. And yet here it was, weaved into the song like it belonged, like it was always meant to be there.

You pulled the headphones off slowly, your eyes wide as you looked at him. "Is that… me?

Noah scratched the back of his neck, fidgeting at being so nervous. "Yeah, I recorded it during one of our phone calls. I've been wanting to… you know… keep it. Your laugh. I thought it'd be nice to put it in the song, like… I don't know… like a piece of you in it."

You had been rendered speechless for a moment or so, the gesture-the out and out sweetness of it-catching you off guard in the most wonderful of ways. He'd taken something so personal, so *you*, and turned it into a part of his art, his music-something that mattered to him almost as much as you did.

"Noah," you whispered with a soft voice, full of love. "That's… that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever done."

He smiled then, that shyness in his lopsided smile that you adored. "I just really like the sound of your laughter," he confessed in a low and earnest voice. "I wanted to keep it with me… always."

And with those words, you leaned in, capturing his lips in the kiss that spoke of all the things you couldn't put into words. You pulled him close as your heart just swelled with so much love for this man who found joy in the simple, most genuine parts of you.

Noah hadn't recorded only your laugh but a fragment of your love that reverberated in every single second that you shared.

Now it was a part of him, immortalized in his music, just as he was a part of you.

[cheynovak]

Top or bottom

Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N Female character     

Summary: One night after beers and jokes, Y/N teasingly asks if Dean is a “top or bottom,” flustering him and sparking laughter.

Warnings: Alcohol, Mentioning: sex. Implied spice, nothing graphic.

English is not my first language 

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated*

The bunker was alive with laughter and the clinking of beer bottles, a rare reprieve from the endless hunt. Y/N had seamlessly integrated into the Winchester family, earning the acceptance and admiration of Jack, Sam, and even Castiel, who considered her as steady and reliable as his celestial grace. But Dean? Dean was a different story.

It wasn’t that he disliked her. Quite the opposite, in fact. Y/N was the first woman since Lisa who made him feel something deeper than fleeting attraction. Her laugh softened his rough edges, and her fierce independence made his heart ache with admiration. But Dean Winchester was not a man who easily confronted his feelings, especially the ones that made him vulnerable.

Tonight, the mood was light. Empty pizza boxes littered the war room table, and everyone was a little tipsy. Dean nursed his beer, watching as Y/N, sitting cross-legged on the couch, threw her head back in laughter at one of Jack’s awkward but endearing comments.

"Wait, wait," she said, catching her breath. "Castiel, are you telling me you thought using your angel blade counted as protection?"

Castiel tilted his head in confusion. "Dean told me to use protection. I didn’t understand the context until later."

The table erupted in laughter, and even Cas, ever so stoic, managed a faint smile.

“God, I love this family,” Y/N said between chuckles. “I mean, you all know *so much* about each other. Sam’s stolen Deans porn stash, Castiels awkward first time..."

"Hey!" Dean interjected, pointing at Sam. "That stash was pristine until this guy got his grubby hands on it."

Y/N smirked and swirled the bottle in her hand. “Okay, Deany-boy, since you’re such an open book…” She leaned forward, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Top or bottom?”

Dean nearly choked on his beer. “What?”

“You heard me,” she teased. “Top or bottom?”

The room went dead silent for a beat before Sam burst out laughing, Jack looked utterly confused, and Castiel tilted his head again, clearly filing the question away for later research.

Dean played it cool, leaning back in his chair. “Top. For sure.”

Y/N tilted her head, locking eyes with Sam as if conspiring. “So, he’s a bottom.”

Sam howled with laughter, and even Jack joined in, though he clearly didn’t get the joke. Dean opened his mouth to retort but was too flustered to find the words.

---

**Later that Night**

The others had gone to bed, leaving Y/N, Jack and Dean to clean up the remnants of their impromptu party. Y/N wiped down the kitchen table while Dean gathered the bottles, his thoughts spinning in circles.

Steeling himself, he stepped in the kitchen opening another two bottles of beer, handing her one over while he seated against the table. “Why do you think I’m a bottom?” His voice was low, roughened by both nerves and curiosity.

Y/N didn’t stop cleaning, but a smile tugged at her lips. Finally she turned to face him, getting closer, standing between his legs, so close he could smell the faint floral notes of her perfume.

“Because, Dean,” she began, her voice soft but sure, “you try so hard to be an alpha. But underneath all that bravado, you’re sweet. Thoughtful. You care about people more than you let on.”

Her hand landed on his chest, "You're a pleaser." he felt the warmth of her touch through his flannel. His heart pounded in his ears.

“Isn’t that what most women want?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Strong men?”

“Maybe,” she admitted, her lips curving into a small smile. “But some of us just want a nice man. Someone who makes us feel safe enough to let go, to show our imperfections. Someone we’d want to…” She paused, her cheeks flushing as she swallowed her nerves, “climb on top of and ride till we see stars.”

Dean’s breath caught as her hand slid up to his shoulder back to his hands, caressing his skin. Her gaze held his, unwavering, her touch warm, like a fire rushing through his veins.

“Someone with strong hands… but who knows how to use them softly.”

He couldn’t stop himself. His hand moved to her face, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. His thumb lingered on her cheek as he stood taller, leaned in closer, their breaths mingling.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice a mix of want and uncertainty. Her hand held on to his flannel. Pulling him in.

But the moment shattered as Jack bounded into the kitchen, the last box of pizza in his hands. “This is the last one!” he announced cheerfully, oblivious to the tension.

Y/N stepped back, her hand falling away as she turned to Jack. “That’s great, Jack. Thanks for helping.”

Dean’s hand dropped to his side, his jaw tightening as he watched her retreat. I made a fool of myself, great! He thought.

But to his surprise she shot him a playful look over her shoulder.

"Are you coming Dean?"

--

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[john-get-the-salt]

Tight Leash w/ Roy Kent

Imagine: Roy has managed to keep his feelings for you to himself….until one night he’s unable to hold onto them any longer.

Contains: fem/reader, cursing, Roy losing his absolute shit in the best way, sexual innuendos

Warnings: none

“I can’t believe I ever let you convince me to wear this.”

“Babes you look phenomenal,” Keeley preened.

You might not have had the option to skip the fundraiser event you were about to enter, but you did have the option to wear something more….lowkey. You did tend to keep it lowkey, as one of the clubs media specialists. Keeley handed all of the flashy bits, the paparazzi and signings and public appearances. You tended to a lot of the background stuff; the sports articles and communications within the league, and the clubs various websites and platforms. Ever since you joined the team nearly a year go now you liked to work in the background, liked being unnoticeable.

Unfortunately you’d become best friends with Keeley Jones-the most noticeable person on the planet. And when you learned you had to attend some annual fundraising gala Rebecca was putting on, Keeley made it her life mission to convince you to wear something daring. And in a moment of weakness you’d agreed.

But now that you were present at the gala and it was almost your turn to walk to press carpet, you were having some serious regrets.

“Seriously Keeley, I feel ridiculous. One of the guys is going to see me and bust out laughing. This is something Rebecca would wear and pull off, not me.” Not to mention the carpet ahead was daunting. Cameras flashing constantly, held by shouting, viperous paparazzi.

“Hey,” Keeley pulled you to the side, forcing you to look at her instead of ahead at the walk into the hall. “No matter what mean things your brain are telling you right now, you look phenomenal. And when the guys see you, when Kent sees you-they’re gonna be lost for words.”

You flushed, because of course your best friend couldn’t resist mentioning the man you had a huge thing for. She never let it go after you let it slip one night. The two of you were just friends, no matter how much Keeley insisted that Roy was in love with you. You two had hit it off shortly after you started, appreciating each other’s dry sense of humor and love of cursing. Besides Keeley he was your best friend. But that was it-no matter how much you daydreamed of more.

"You've got this babe, i promise. Don’t forget-you are a badass bitch." Keeley gave you a final smile and quick kiss on the cheek before she was being called up. She left your side and stepped out onto the carpet. The photographers went wide, bursts of light exploding. You were officially next.

You took a deep breath, in and out. You just wanted to be inside the gala with your people, having fun with the club and Rebecca and Keeley. Unfortunately, this carpet stood in between you and them.

Just when you thought you had taken enough deep breaths and were finally ready, you heard a sharp inhale behind you. You risked a glance over your shoulder, finding Roy standing a few feet behind you. And you had to admit, he looked good. The all black attire did not surprise you but it did suit him. He was taking you in, slowly, from head to toe. Your outfit was all white, comprised of crisp high waisted pants and a corseted long sleeve top. (see visual below, I love a good visual, tho feel free to alter it in your brain to best suit you)

When his eyes finally rose to your chest he swore.

"Fucking hell."

"What was that, Roy?"

His eyes rose again, this time to meet yours.

Maybe it was Keely's words ringing around your head, or the way Roy couldn't keep his eyes off you, or the shot of whiskey you'd taken on the drive in. But regardless, you suddenly felt a smudge more confident. So with a final mental fuck it, you decided to embrace it. You relaxed your shoulders, straightened your spine, and as they called your name you smiled at Roy and gave a quick wink before you spun on your heel and took your first step out onto the carpet.

The cameras lit up, photographers crying for a spin, a turn, an angle, any bit of attention. You stopped a few times, allowing them pictures of you in different poses. The lights and the noises soon became too much however, so you kept it short before you strutted down the rest of the carpet and made it inside the gala building where Keely was stood waiting.

"Oh my god, you looked like a right model walking into a show," she gushed. "Those pictures of you are going to be jaw-dropping babe. And poor Roy's dragging his jaw against the floor."

You flushed as you let the excitable girl link arms with you and drag you towards the teams designated table. "I don't know what came over me, Ke. I just decided to go with it and channel my inner Rebecca. And I fucking winked at Roy. Who am I?“

"If he doesn't pull you away to ravish you by the end of the night I will."

You giggled with your friend, happily accepting the drink she got you.

"Ladies."

To your delight Coach Lasso approached, eyes crinkled as he smiled. "You both look down-right beautiful."

"Oh thank you Ted, you're looking quite handsome this evening."

"Well that's mighty kind of you. Now between the three of us, I was really just coming to let you know that Roy just stormed into the building like a starved man on a mission, demanding to know if I'd seen which way you went. The poor man looked so red in the face I was worried he was going to keel over."

You flushed, eyes suddenly finding the floor quite interesting.

"Now you two wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you?"

"He's realizing that he's in love with her," Keely couldn't help but gush.

Eyes widening, you smacked her arm.

"Ow!"

"Keely! He is not!"

"Ah," Lasso hummed, chuckling a bit. "It's about damn time. The boys and I are getting tired of the silent pining."

"We are not- there is no silent pining." You argued, looking between your two friends.

“You two have been inseparable since you met. You spend more time with him then anyone else in the club, babes.”

“Kee, we’re just friends.”

"I don’t think he thinks that," Lasso gestured with his head and you followed his gaze, finding Roy stood across the room, staring straight at you.

Your heart skipped a beat as his intense eyes met yours.

"I need some water," you stated, the air suddenly too heavy to breath.

"I can-"

"It's ok, Kee," you interrupted, kissing her cheek. "I'll be back."

She nor Lasso argued, watching as you hurried away from the table and towards the bar. Roy was after you the next minute, speeding across the floor and past the table towards you.

"Those two...." Lasso trailed off as he shook his head.

"Idiots."

"Lovesick idiots."

-

You weren't really thinking straight when you rushed away from your friends. All you could think was that the weight of Roy's gaze was heavy, stifling, and you felt your chest constrict.

You stepped up to the bar and asked for an ice water, receiving it moments later. You thanked the bartender and glided over to a neglected corner of the room, where only a few stragglers buzzed around. It was quieter over here, and you could feel the ache in your chest ease slightly.

"Hey," a soft voice invaded your space.

You froze, turning.

Roy was stood there, looking down at you again with that intense dark gaze.

"Hi," you said softly, unable to stop your eyes from flickering down to his lips before quickly back up.

"You look....fucking beautiful."

A heat began in your cheeks, reaching down your neck and no doubt flushing your collar and chest as well.

"That word doesn't seem quite enough. Fucking....breathtaking." And the way he said it sounded like he was, in fact, breathless. His chest heaved, as he stood perfectly still in front of you.

The heat was beginning to prick at your stomach, and if Roy wasn't very careful it was going to continue to travel downward.

"Thank you. Everyone here looks pretty amazing."

"Sweetheart, I haven't so much as glanced at anyone else in here. How can I, when you look so...." he trailed off, lips parting silently.

"What?"

“I’ve been doing my best to keep what I was feeling on a tight leash. I never wanted to ruin…this. Our friendship. I don’t know what I’d do with it, but…”

You furrowed your eyebrows. He wasn’t making any sense. “What are you saying Roy?”

"Can I kiss you?"

Ok, the heat had officially traveled to your entire body. You felt like you were on fire, and all Roy was doing was looking at you. Never had you considered how much a simple question like that could affect you, but as you watched him wait in heavy anticipation, wanting to touch you but unwilling until you gave him permission, you became weak in the knees.

"Yes-" the word was barely out of your mouth before he was kissing you, trapping the word in between you. His hands cradled your face so delicately, like you were made of glass. You rested your hands on his chest, appreciating the muscle you felt under the suit.

His lips were so soft, and tasted faintly of the cherry chapstick you'd given him just the other day. He smelled of spicy cologne and his scruff tickled your face.

He pulled away, just enough to meet your eyes.

"I may be the most stubborn, selfish, miserable prick on this planet, but you make me feel like I'm so much more. And this may be the most selfish thing I ever do, but I don't fucking care anymore. I'm in love with you."

Your lips parted, eye searching his for any signs of deception. You couldn't find any.

"Im in love with you too, my miserable prick."

He choked on a laugh, his eyes glassy as he rested his forehead against yours. "God, I love you so fucking much."

"I love you even fucking more."

[archangeldyke-all]

why did I see this post and immediately think of Sevika?? https://www.tumblr.com/sappho-made-me-do-it/764096234440032256?source=share I can def imagine her doing this in public because she's so damn possessive

this gif gave me shivers watching it and thinking about sevika... i've been thinking about this ask all week i'm so happy i could finally write it!!

men and minors dni

sevika's gonna blow your fucking cover.

silco sent the pair of you up, undercover, to get dirt on one of piltover's long standing aldermen. it's well known that he's got very illegal ties with a development company-- taking close to twenty percent off all their earnings in exchange for letting them start development on the longstanding zaunite promenade.

the only way you've managed to sneak into this party (held in his own fucking home because he's rich enough to live in a house with a ballroom) is by pretending to be complete strangers.

you're a cater-waiter. this was an easy cover. almost all the staff working the event are from zaun, you just picked the nearest one your size and handed them a sack of coins to trade outfits and scram for the evening. it was the easiest decision of the kid's life.

sevika's cover wasn't so easy. silco insisted that sevika shared an uncanny resemblance to a well-known socialite, but when you got there to drug the lady for the evening and disguise sev, you nearly pissed yourself laughing. perhaps the woman looked like sevika forty years ago. but now, she's a crouched over, wrinkled up, old lady.

so, she was easy to knock out. it wasn't so easy getting sevika to look old. you told her to tell her friends she got work done. she glared at you so hard you're surprised you didn't burst into flames.

but the thing is, it's not even the shitty disguise that's gonna blow it. it's the fact that she won't take her fucking hands off of you.

and, it's not a spoken rule, but people from piltover-- especially ones this rich-- do not interact with cater-waiters... and they certainly don't keep pinching said cater-waiter's ass, and trailing off to eye-fucking at you across the room mid-conversation, and trapping you in a pantry to have a steamy makeout session mid party.

and now, to make matters worse, another one of the cater-waiters is trying to flirt with you, too. and you really don't want to deal with a sevika murdering anyone tonight. it would totally blow your cover.

"so..." you think their name is zack? zane? asks. "i've got some weed. me and a couple of the dishwashers are gonna go to some topside bar after... you wanna join?" they ask.

you cringe and shake your head. "sorry, i gotta get home." you mumble, quickly grabbing the fresh plate of appetizers from him and sprinting out of the kitchen.

you bump right into sevika and groan. the wrinkles you'd painted onto her skin with eyeshadow are completely smeared and gone from earlier, and she's got her eyes pinned on the swinging door you just came from.

"did they fucking touch you?"

"do you want a bacon wrapped shrimp madame?" you ask.

sevika's glare drops momentarily, and she shoves two of the shrimp in her mouth, her eyes rolling back at the taste, and then her glare returning. "i'm gonna fucking kill them. find a way to fill a to-go box with those." she growls, pointing at the plate.

you giggle and take a quick look around, making sure nobody's looking, before swooping in to kiss her cheek. "they didn't touch me. i won't let them. please just play along for a little longer so we can ditch this lame ass party and go home." you whisper.

sevika sighs, then crouches back over in her old lady posture. "fine." she grunts, turning around and shuffling back to the party. you chuckle, and she flips you off over her shoulder.

she doesn't drop it.

to be fair... zin(?) does make a pass at you again. they find you refilling the refreshments and wrap their arm around you like you're familiar, or something.

sevika sees it, and your stomach drops. you're pretty sure you can see steam coming out of her ears.

you duck out of their arm and scurry across the ballroom, shoving the bag of ice you're carrying into the nearest uniform's arms.

sevika's storming across the floor (much faster than any old lady should) and you meet her right in the center, one finger pointed out and a nasty glare on your face.

sevika freezes, half a foot from you, her eyes darting between whats-their-name and you.

"we are surrounded by hundreds of people. do not blow your cover." you whisper-shout.

sevika deflates again, and you think that's the end of it. you quickly turn around to leave the dance floor, but sevika grabs your wrist, and pulls you back into her chest.

you gasp-- and before you can say anything, she's licking one long stripe up your neck.

you shudder, your eyes falling shut for just a moment, before you pry them open to make sure nobody saw, giving a firm elbow to the gut. sevika just chuckles, and from the sound of silverware clattering to the ballroom floor, you know whats-their name saw too.

"i'm gonna fucking kill you." you mutter.

"i look forward to it." sevika giggles, giving your ass a firm pat before walking away.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

[m00nsbaby]

AITA for texting my fiancé that "this isn't working"?

Steven Grant x reader.

Tags & warnings. None. Yes, this literally is just a silly little thing that I read on reddit and I thought it was so funny lol. Reader is gender neutral!

Word count. 823.

Moving in with Steven was one of the best decisions you could make in your life, right after saying 'yes' when he proposed.

The only inconvenience came at a precise time between morning and afternoon, sometimes even at night, all depending on the mood of his boss. Waiting for Steven to return from work was such a headache, boring hours and dead time as you tried to find your own job.

The upside was that you now had complete freedom to organize his apartment to your liking, and if anything needed a complete makeover, it was Steven Grant's dark and disorganized home.

You had just made a completely necessary expense, a gigantic mirror that was clearly bigger than your capabilities. Worse yet, considering that if there was something you despised with all your heart, it was the mere idea of reading an instruction manual.

When the mirror arrived, the Amazon delivery guy mocked you to your face for your difficulty in handling the box and getting it into the house.

You: Baby, the new mirror just came in!

You hit send after the message.

You: I’m going to try to put it together but I may need your help later.

And just as you said, you got to work with the phone by your side, waiting for a response from Steven.

You assumed Donna was in a terrible mood because at least two hours went by without a reply, although you were really too busy to worry about that.

For a moment, you insisted on the idea of finishing assembling the darn mirror before Steven arrived home, but that clearly didn't happen because for the two and a half hours of effort you put in, you didn't feel like you were really getting anywhere.

Plus, you had extra screws that shouldn't have been left over.

You: This isn’t working and at this point, I think I need to just give up.

You put the phone aside and lazily lay down on the carpet. Why was assembling furniture so hard? Although not as difficult as having to accept that you couldn't finish it on your own.

You stayed there not knowing how long, but you estimated it was a few hours because you heard the front door indicating that Steven was home. The smile lasted only a short while because as you straightened up to greet him, he walked past you without even looking at you, heading straight to the bedroom.

"Steven?" you questioned, slightly furrowing your brow. You stood up slowly, giving him time to exit the room.

When you finally confronted him, your heart almost jumped out of your chest. His eyes were red, completely filled with tears.

"What happened, baby?"

"Why?" he asked, his voice breaking. It shattered your heart into pieces.

"Why what, Steven?" He sniffled, and you searched his gaze when he started avoiding you.

"Why are you giving up on me?"

You nearly killed him right then and there.

"What are you talking about?"

He didn't take long to pull his phone out of his pocket and shake it a bit in front of your face; he was on the verge of sobbing.

"Y-Your messages, you were breaking up with me."

The moment Steven mentioned your text messages, you had to press your lips together to keep from laughing in his face.

Your expression almost made him cry harder. Were you making fun of him?

"Steven." Your voice came out in a playful tone as you almost burst into laughter. "I was talking about the mirror."

"Huh? What mirror?"

"The new mirror, it arrived." Your eyes were almost watering from holding back laughter. "I'm guessing that the previous messages didn't send; I was talking about not being able to assemble it on my own."

You stepped aside to let him see the mess you had made on the floor, with the mirror halfway assembled.

Steven exchanged glances between the things and you.

He looked at the things.

He looked at you.

He looked at the things.

He looked at you.

Realization hit in seconds, and you couldn't say anything more when you felt Steven's arms squeezing you against his chest. You couldn't stop laughing even though your laughter sounded odd, muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

"Bloody fucking hell, love!" Steven cursing was definitely a special event. It only made you laugh harder. "You almost gave me a heart attack!"

He lifted you off the ground, and tears were already streaming down your face. It took much longer than expected to calm down from the laughter.

Still breathless, you let him kiss your face, as well as embrace you with his strong arms that refused to let you go.

"Still, I need you to check the mirror." You took a deep breath, your cheeks already reddened, one of your hands held onto him, and the other wiped the corners of your eyes. "I think I damaged it."

[httpsdana]

Please pau cubarsi with promt 30x4

🙏🙏🙏🙏

Breakfast Gone Wrong~Pau Cubarsi

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who i write for

・❥・a/n: you didn't really specify the genre so I hope this one is what you chose 🫶🏻

30-“I made you breakfast! But it’s probably terrible, so just pretend it’s good.”

y/n woke up to the distinct smell of… smoke? Alarm bells immediately went off in her head. She sat up, eyes darting around the room, wondering if the apartment was on fire.

Before she could fully panic, the bedroom door swung open, revealing Pau. He was balancing a tray with what appeared to be breakfast, though it looked more like a crime scene from a cooking show gone wrong. His hair stuck up in all directions, and his shirt had a suspicious-looking stain.

“Good morning!” Pau greeted, grinning sheepishly. “I made you breakfast! But, uh… it’s probably terrible, so just pretend it’s good. Like, Oscar-worthy acting.”

She blinked at him, then at the tray. On it were two plates of something. The eggs were overcooked to the point of resembling rubber, the toast looked like it had survived a forest fire, and the orange juice… well, at least that looked safe.

“Pau… what exactly happened in the kitchen?” she asked, holding back a laugh.

He sighed dramatically, setting the tray down on her lap. “Look, I went in with the best intentions. The eggs? They betrayed me. The toaster? It’s clearly possessed. And the smoke? Well, that was just me adding ‘flavor.’”

She picked up a piece of toast, holding it up like evidence in court. “You mean charcoal?”

He groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Okay, okay! I get it. I’m not a chef. But it’s the thought that counts, right?”

“The thought? Yes. The toast? No,” she teased, taking a bite of the burnt toast. She chewed slowly, forcing a smile. “Mmm… delicious. Tastes like… camping.”

Pau snorted. “Camping? You mean like when everything accidentally gets thrown into the fire?”

“Exactly,” she said, laughing. “You nailed it!”

He rolled his eyes, grabbing a fork. “At least try the eggs. I think they’re edible… probably.”

She stabbed the eggs cautiously. They bounced back. “Are these eggs or rubber balls?”

Pau leaned over, whispering conspiratorially, “They’re multifunctional. Breakfast and self-defense.”

She burst out laughing, nearly spilling the tray. “Pau, this is honestly the best breakfast disaster ever.”

He smiled, scooting closer. “I just wanted to do something special for you. You’ve been working so hard, and I thought, ‘Hey, breakfast in bed sounds romantic.’”

She leaned in, kissing him softly. “It is romantic. And hilarious. And perfect because it’s you.”

Pau grinned, his eyes twinkling. “You’re just saying that because I didn’t burn the orange juice.”

She raised her glass of juice with a smirk. “To not burning liquids!”

He clinked his glass with hers. “And to us surviving my cooking!”

With laughter filling the room, they dug into the slightly terrible—but incredibly memorable—breakfast, grateful for every hilarious second.

[ilsanslut]

꒷♡꒷ THESE BOOTS ARE MADE FOR FUCKING!

♰ art credit: eriimyon on twitter!

♰ featuring: wriothesley + neuvillette. (separate) [genshin]

♰ note: crazily enough, i’m not in heat for once, HOWEVER, i cannot, FOR THE LIFE OF ME, get over wriothelsey and neuvillette’s boots. ever since the release of fontaine, i’ve been SO DOWN BAD for those two men and the fact that neuvillette wears literal thigh highs + boots aND SO DOES WRIOTHELSEY likeee???? they’re so cunty??? like what the fuck??? i want them to ruin me fr.

sypnosis: you take your obsession with your boyfriend’s boots into your own hands. word count: 3.3k content/trigger warning(s): 18+. smut. female/fem-bodied reader SHOE/BOOT HUMPING! name calling/degradation. spanking. praise. minor petplay themes/usage of the names: puppy, pup, mutt, bitch, etc. (wriothesley) poor reincarnated hydro sovereign being scaroused yet fascinated by human desires. minor exhibitionism (neuvillette).꒷꒦

when you first mentioned what you wanted to do with wriothesley's boots to him, he laughed in your face—not maliciously, but simply amused—because he could tell from your longing stares that there was something more to the way you were practically drooling at him. so, to find out that this is what you had in mind all this time, he was not opposed to it. in fact, he was utterly fascinated to partake in your little fantasy alongside you.

“you got it, baby.” his smooth voice would come from above you as you sank to your knees before him.

your sheepish gaze lifted to meet his, and you felt yourself clench around nothing from the look in his eyes. his eyes were full of wild, unbridled lust as he peered down at you with a half-lidded gaze and salacious smirk. he was relaxing back against his large office chair, the golden lining around the red velvet making him appear kingly and regal from your position, perched on your knees like his consort. his legs were spread wide, making room to accommodate you, allowing you to take in the way his muscular thighs bulged from beneath his tight slacks, nearly bursting their well-tailored seams. he was so effortlessly hot that it drove you insane.

“c’mon, y/n.” he spoke to you, maneuvering his leg until he was able to nudge your panty-clad folds with the steel toe of his boots, causing you to immediately whine at the sudden contact and grip his calf for support. his smirk only grew, cruelly grinding the toe against your sensitive clit. “you wanted this, and yet you’re making me do all the work? take those panties off and get to it already, babe.”

you nodded, rising onto your knees, albeit shakily, as you hooked your thumbs into the waistline of your panties and pulled them down your thighs until you could discard them beside you. afterwards, both of your hands wrapped around wriothlesy’s bulky calf, and used the leverage to lower yourself onto the smooth leather of his boot’s surface. as the cool leather settled against your heated clit, your hips lurched forward while a startled squeal escaped your lips from the unexpected contact.

wriothesley was quick to soothe you, placing his hand atop your head to smooth your hair back against your crown. he lifted your chin just enough to meet your gaze, silently observing whether you were alright or if you were having any second thoughts. you responded by simply lowering your hips onto the leather of his boots again, whimpering as your puffy folds squished against the leather.

keeping your hands wrapped around his legs for purchase, you slowly but surely rocked your hips against the smooth leather, instantly becoming overwhelmed by a wave of euphoria. despite the boot's steel toe, the surface was even and soft. not to mention the excess thick stitching from a rhombodious design embroidered on top, which caused you to bump your clit against the rough, dull edge with each raunchy rock. the friction was nearly mind-numbing.

a chorus of sultry sighs left your mouth before you pulled your bottom lip between your pearly whites to muffle the sound. you felt a wave of shame wash over you as you realized what a depraved act you were committing. wriothesley, however, wasn’t having any of it.

his partially-gloved thumb met your lip, pulling the soft flesh free from your teeth. in an instant, his large palm was cupping your chin as thick digits squished your cheeks with enough force to pucker your lips. your gaze rose to meet his own, which was now boring down into you, steely and cold.

“now, now, being shy, are we?” the faintest hint of a mocking, snide smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he looked down at you from the bridge of his nose, as if you were inferior to him. something about the cruel, haughty look in his eyes as he glowered down at you caused your pussy to clench, your juices shamelessly squirting between your folds and his boot as your arousal became unbearable. you could barely utter a sentence in response, too desperate to chase your release as you continued to hump your messy pussy against his boot like a rutting puppy.

“you certainly weren’t shy when you were gawking at me like some kind of sex toy while squeezing those pretty thighs of yours—" he paused, quickly bending at the waist to pop two quick swats against your bubbly rear and thigh to accentuate his point, relishing in the sharp squeals that emitted from your lips afterwards. “—together like some bitch in heat, now were you?”

you warbled, an incoherent cacophony of pleas for him to be nice to you competing with your pleas for him to spank you again harder, amidst your pleasure moans, unable to say anything else. so, he answered for you.

using the grip on both your chin and cheeks, he nodded your head up and down like a ventriloquist manipulating his prettiest puppet.

“yeaah, i’m right aren’t i?” his words were dragged out like a mocking hum, and that amused smirk finally emerged in the form of a salacious, sly grin that spread across his lips, exposing his pointed canines.

you nodded for yourself this time, tears springing from the corners of your eyes as the pleasure you felt building within you began to grow to much for you to bear, your thighs quivering around his boot as your clit throbbed against the now ruined leather.

“so don’t you fucking dare hide these precious little sounds from me again, got it? you’re going to let everyone outside of this office know that the duke’s girlfriend is a needy little slut who gets off on rutting her pretty pussy against his boots like a naughty little puppy. understand?”

you nodded, thin lines of translucent drool beginning to pool over your blushing brims as your vision grew blurry, barely able to decipher the reality around you as the knot in your tummy grew tighter with every sloppy, needy hump of your hips.

“y-yes, wriothesley— mpfh! f-fuck, please, m’gonna cum, i can’t—!”

“—don't fuckin' back out now.” with a snarl, he interrupted you, releasing your cheeks to grasp your hair and force your gaze onto his. “come on, princess. make a mess all over my fuckin’ boot.”

and you did exactly that. with an uneasy, sloppy final stuttering of your hips, you finally came undone from your depraved acts. with your nails digging deep cresents into the leather straps that held his boots taut around his calves, the knot in your belly finally released it’s tension, allowing you to fall into the sweet bliss of your orgasm. your voice echoed through the steel chambers of his office as immeasurable warmth and pleasure washed over you, misting your senses. your eyelids fluttered as your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, your panting, heaving breaths creating puffs of condensation against the steel that encircled the front of his thighs, where your cheek was now nestled. you could feel your clit throbbing against the ruined leather of his boot, your juices squelching out of you and smearing against both his boot and your folds in an obscene manner. a manner that made a satisfied, smug smirk arise on wriothesley’s lips.

soon enough, you came down from your high with his large hand stroking along your tresses, coaxing you along the whole way. when your shrill mewls turned into breathless pants and occasional whimpers, his hand would find itself on your cheek, his thumb stroking your cheek in an endearing fashion.

“there you go. y’did so good for me, princess.” his smooth, baritone voice calmed you, bringing you back to reality from the high heavens.

you mumbled a feeble "thank you" for him allowing you to indulge in your fantasies while nestling your cheek against his soothing touch.

he laughed at this, deep and throaty, as he slipped his foot from beneath your messy folds, chuckling at the high-pitched whine that ripped from your lips as he did so.

“you’re welcome, precious . . . but you do know how things work around here in the fortress, don’t you?”

his voice had dropped an octave with a suggestive undertone, prompting you to open your eyes and peer wearily up at him with a confused glint. he met your gaze with a lascivious narrow, slowly removing his hand from your cheek and dragging it languidly over his own thigh until it rested atop the prominent bulge that had recently formed in his slacks. your mouth watered at the sight of his painfully erect cock threatening to burst through his zipper at any moment now. it seemed as though he enjoyed your little show just as much as you did.

“what is once graciously given, another must receive in return.”

“you want to what?” neuvillette would inquire, pausing mid sip from his silver chalice containing the finest water in fontaine as he peered you incredulously—an emotion rarely present on his otherwise stoic and aloof visage.

being the iudex of fontaine, he has seen all counts of life and even the darkest parts of humanity present in the courtroom. he even went out of his way to better understand you, your likes, your dislikes, your interests, your kinks, and your deepest desires. when dealing with humans, he knew to never be surprised by whatever they could have in store for him, but nothing could’ve prepared him for your anything-but-innocent inquiry.

what made matters worse is that you couldn't even explain where this desire stemmed from or why you wanted to perform such a lewd act—not to him—but rather to his boots of all things. luckily for you, your lover was a curious being, no matter how much he seemed otherwise.

wordlessly, he placed his chalice atop his large oak desk before scooting his chair back to make enough room to accommodate you. silently, he raised a hand, gesturing to the space between him and his desk, inviting you to sit. your gaze rose, meeting his own, only to see that there was an essence of carnality present in his bright periwinkle eyes.

“come.” he ordered, his voice bellowing with the faintest of echos in the spacious chamber of his office. his hand turned, his gloved index finger pointing to the carpeted floor beneath his feet. “show me.”

like a sacrificial lamb being offered to the shrine, you hesitantly pranced around the large oak desk until you came to stand before your sovereign lover, just as he had asked. his legs spread wide, both of his knees resting mere inches away from both of your thighs. your gaze fell to the ground, admiring his expensive shoes with regal gold rivets branded on the tips. thinking about the cool metal and how the smooth ridges would feel on your clit, your thighs squished together as you felt your arousal brewing between them—an action that immediately drew neuvillette's attention.

“you know i’m a busy man, and yet here you are, hesitating when i’m giving you exactly what you desire.” the deep rumble of his voice drew you from your reverie, drawing your attention back to him, only to see that he was now leering at you from where his head rested on his balled fist. his free hand rose, gently ecircling his large palm around your hip, his thumb rolling slow, titillating circles against the bone. you could feel the slightest of unsteady trembles in his grip, almost as though he were refraining from taking you right then and now atop his desk.

“do you intend to continue to waste both of our time, or will you finally kneel and act on your licorous endeavors?”

a meager apology tumbled from your lips, and you finally gathered the courage to lower yourself to your knees before him, both of your thighs straddling his right boot. one of your hands wrapped around his spat covered calf, steadying yourself as you hovered above his shoe, already feeling the coolness of the riveted, feathered-diamond design beneath your heated core. pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you grabbed at the seat of your panties and pulled them to the side, watching as a thin strand of your translucent arousal already leaked onto his shoe.

you let gravity take control of you, allowing it to push you down until you sank against the cool leather and smooth gold of his shoes. as the underside of your sensitive pearl rested on the smooth ridge of the steel, contrasting blissfully with the strapping leather, a shuddering sigh escaped your brims. you had only imagined what his shoe would feel like beneath your folds, but this was beyond any expectations you could’ve had. without wasting any more time, you slowly ground your hips to and fro along the surface of his shoe, each sensuous drag of your puffy folds against chilled steel and leather drawing a mewl of bliss from your brims.

above you, you heard your draconic lover chuckling in a cacophony of emotions: amusement, fascination, and, most of all, incredulity.

“humans.” he sighed mirthfully, a fond smile on his face, as he watched you rut against his shoe like a needy puppy in need of proper discipline. “your kind never ceases to amaze me with their intricacies—you included, starlight.”

you could only manage a whimper in response, your words becoming garbled and incoherent as you attempted to utter a formulated sentence amidst your writhing but failed horribly.

“what’s that, love?” he was having fun with this now—something about witnessing your sinful plight warming his water-tight heart. “use your words, darling. don’t tell me you’ve gone stupid on me already."

you glowered at him from under your lashes, your lips forming an indignant pout as your cheeks burned from his taunting and your embarrassment. your mouth opened—not to release more of those sweet moans that were music to his ears—but instead to shoot back a brazen retort, when all of a sudden, you were cut off by raucous knocking on his office door that captured both of your attention.

“monsieur.” a flat, feminine voice spoke from the other side—one that you both recognized.

clorinde.

immediately, you froze. your nails dug into the fabric of neuvillette’s spats as your hips stilled, your body trembling from the way your clit throbbed against chilled steel, aching for you to continue and bring you your sweet, sweet release.

your gaze shifted to his, and you noticed that all amusement had vanished from his eyes, leaving only a fleeting trace of unease behind them. placing your weight on your knees, you made a move to push yourself up so that the both of you didn’t get caught in your nefarious actions, but you were stopped.

a hand, gentle yet firm, placed itself atop your head, preventing you from rising but mere centimeters off of his shoe. confusion washed over your features, as you were shocked that he had stopped you knowing that someone else had just arrived, but everything became clear when you noticed the lecherous glint in his now narrowed eyes.

he needn’t utter a word to you to convey his intentions. instead, he arched his foot, causing the tip of his arousal-slickened boot to once again meet your sopping folds, eliciting—what would have been—a startled squeal from you if you had not muffled the sound by shoving your face into his knee. your pleasure-stricken, pleading eyes met his own, begging for mercy at the prospect of being caught in the act by not only your friend but also his closest subordinate, but his order was clear.

he wanted you to continue, regardless of your newfound audience.

and who were you to disobey the iudex’s orders?

it was only when you succumbed to his will by sinking yourself back onto his shoe and resuming your sloppy pace that he said anything else.

“enter.”

the sound of heavy oak swinging open, followed by the dull tutting of sharp heels against carpeted tiles, effectively sealed your fate. you tried your damnedest not to draw suspicion from the extremely perceptive woman by keeping your sinful mewls quiet, but as your orgasm drew nearer, the effort became not only more difficult but also taxing. daring a glance neuvillette's way, you could only smolder in silent, seething envy at how composed he remained, as if his lover were not riding his shoe within an inch of her life beneath him.

"i have completed the report on the recent fatuus trial that you requested. the one where he failed to best me in a duel before the trial carried on as normal."

her voice was so close, so unassuming. the sound of a sudden weight striking the oaken surface indicated that she was only a short distance away from the desk, probably dropping a heavy folder on it.

your cunt could not help but gush at the allure of it all—you grinding your pretty pussy against the now-tainted leather of your lover's shoe, right under the duellist's nose. the pressure behind your abdomen had begun to build, threatening to burst at any moment. you prayed to whatever higher being was listening that clorinde would not hear the downright debaucherous sound of your pussy squelching against his steel tip.

“hm, i see.” you could hear the inquisitiveness in neuvillette’s tone as he spoke, flipping through the pages of clorinde’s report to skim over the report that would be gone over later in greater detail. “thank you, this is very much appreciated.”

whatever clorinde uttered in response, you couldn’t hear or see. the tiniest of breathless squeaks emitted from your lips as your hips drew forward with one more quivering drag, finally delivering you over that cliff to your sweet, sweet, blissful salvation. you would have to apologize later for the deep teeth marks you left on neuvillette's spats, which were accompanied by a sharp and sudden clearing of his throat to warn you of those misbehaving pearly whites. you were powerless to stop it, though. that was the only thing keeping you from being exposed in this manner and losing the last shred of your dignity.

languidly and sloppily, you rode out those last few serene waves of your orgasm before finally slipping back to reality—one that was about to drop a rude awakening onto you.

“oh, and monsieur?” clorinde's voice echoed throughout the chamber as if she had already moved to the other side. when had she arrived over there?

“hm?” neuvillette responded, his hand casually returning to your head and stroking over your locks to coax you through those blissful waves in an endearing fashion.

“the next time you and y/n are intimate, could you please not accept guests during your private sessions?”

you could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed.

defeated, you deflated against your lover’s thigh with an audible groan, to which neuvillete would in turn reply with a chuckle of his own, offering a nod of confirmation the duellist’s way.

“so we’ve been told. thank you once again, clorinde.”

her departure was signaled by the heavy doors swinging shut, leaving you and your draconic lover all alone once more. with your cheek pressed against his inner thigh, you peered up at him, mortification evident in your eyes. except for a reassuring pat on your opposite cheek, neuvillette, however, did little to ease your displeasure.

“making a mess of yourself and my shoes, and getting not only yourself but the both of us caught, y/n? by our champion duellist no less?” he tutted at you, one hand coming to his wrist to peel off his gold-riveted gloves, revealing scaled and oceanic blue-tainted hands.

when you realized what his words and actions meant, your heart dropped into the deepest recesses of your stomach, festering with the butterflies that had begun to flutter.

“n-no, i didn’t mean—”

a mere glare was all it took to effectively silence you, your lips pressing shut against one another as you nearly flinched from the severity. you would be lying if you said that your clit didn’t throb with anticipation for whatever he held in store for you.

“stand. i do believe you’re in need of a proper punishment, darling.”

would you guys like a part two with different characters? mayhaps a cute lil' series? name a few characters down below or inbox me! ♡

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