#i made a extra large one since two requested the same thing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

phasecornnuts · 8 months ago

Note

Hiiiiiiii! If you’re still open for requests maybe you might wanna write something where the reader casually mentioned that they/she had a partner on earth before they died and Alastor takes it a bit too drastically and has just been very salty and asking too many questions 😭 if you like that

Please & thanks ❤️

Hey guys I've returned! Sorry for taking a little while, I was busy with finals/I wanted to relax on my spring break so I didn't have a lot of time. I lowkey kind of cooked with this one too so enjoy :3

Also, I sorta made the reader be from around the same time period as Alastor (sorta late 1910s early 1930s) for extra spice

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It had become a daily routine for you and Alastor to have afternoon tea together in cannibal town. Always, between the hours and four and six o’ clock after Alastor had finished his broadcast and you, your hotel duties, the both of you would walk down to Rosie’s Emporium to nibble on finger sandwiches, candied eyeballs, and other treats.

The sun was still high in the sky, sending fingers of light through the windows of the cafe; the building was alive with the chatter of demons and hell-born alike. You and Alastor had just sat down, a short cannibal girl with a heart-shaped face and glowing brown ringlets placing your usuals on the table. Oh how beautiful they were! Too pretty to eat, garnished with tiny sprigs of mint (or, at least, it may have been mint) and resting on plates of delicate porcelain. With polished silver beside them, and matching teacups and saucers too, it all looked like a party for a girl’s favorite doll.

That is, if it weren’t human meat.

Looking up from your plate, you saw Alastor turn his head to follow the cannibal girl making you frown. His gaze returned to you before he caught you staring, a chipper grin on his face as always.

“She could be a dead ringer for Mary Pickford, don’t you think?”

Your eyebrows perked. You hadn’t looked long at the girl admittedly, though you stared long enough to know that she was no Pickford. You pursed your lips,

“I don’t see it, Lillian Gish maybe.”

He looked at you like a mad-woman, “You don’t!?”

“No! Her eyes are much too large!”

Alastor chuffed, proceeding to rest his chin on his dark hand, “In the eye of the beholder I suppose.”

You rolled your eyes, “You only say that because of her curls,” you stated while picking up the teapot and pouring yourself and Alastor your cups, “Now, drink before it gets cold.”

For much of your lunch neither of you spoke, merely enjoying each other’s presence while pecking on some food here and there. Throughout the meal the waitress brought more plates, pancreas tarts, minced tongues coated with cinnamon sugar, and sweet pies filled with rotted venison and cooked kidneys, all Rosie’s treat. Alastor had been taken by the small pies in their mulled deliciousness, the meat so tender you saw his eyes water. He pleaded you to try one, though you couldn’t, your stomach filled to the brim from the other treats and delicacies.

Alastor picked up the small pair of silver tongs from beside him and placed two sugar cubes in his tea, “I do say, it’s nice to have a meal companion again.” He took a sip from his teacup and grinned.

You nodded in agreement, lifting the milk jug from the table and pouring a generous amount into your cup. “Likewise. Good dinner conversation is a horrid thing to lose.”

“Truly.” He took another drink. “Before you, I hadn’t had a proper luncheon since my mother.”

“From what you tell she sounded like a fine woman.” His grin lost its eeriness, becoming fond instead.

“She truly was, and such a fine cook too.” Alastor gazed at the fine pattern painted on the rim of his saucer, “her jambalaya was the best, our side of the Mississippi” he chuckled. He began to remember then, “And her gumbo and her crawfish etouffee and her pecan pralines”

It was odd to hear his voice so full of affection, but nice too. So strange, to think a man who broadcasted his murders of other overlords and feasted on their flesh was once a little boy who clung to his mothers skirt and happily ate her cooking.

“Maybe one day you’ll cook for me then?” you teased

“Oh why wouldn’t I for my favoritest of sinners?” He took your hand.

You leaned in towards him, a silent flirtation. “Or perhaps I could prepare something for you?”

He looked at you from his dark, hooded eyes, a certain intrigue radiating from them. “Would you now?” he said, leaning in closer.

“Oh I would, anything you’d like.” the tip of your oxford lingering at his ankle. “My food was good enough for my darling back on earth, why would an overlord of hell have any complaints? Other than not enough seasoning I suppose.”

That was when the laughter in his eyes died. Alastor bit the inside of his cheek before finding the words to speak, “Your darling?”

“Pardon?”

“You had someone,” He straightened up, pulling himself away from you, “back on earth?”

“I hardly see how it matters now.”

Alastor’s tone grew curt, had such a simple word bruised his ego?

He crossed his arms, “What were they like?” each word as sharp as his teeth.

You pulled your hands close to you, confused at his curtness, “They were….they were nice. Cordial, spirited, vivacious, however you would put it. If you’re-” Alastor cut you off.

“How did you meet them?”

“On the trolley.” That only served to make him scoff.

“Tch, how common. The trolley.”

You chewed your bottom lip, trying to deny the anger towards him that began to knot in your belly. “It was a different lifetime.” You asserted, a hard finality to it. Pushing yourself from the small table you smoothed your skirt and adjusted the ribbon that was tied so nicely in your hair.

Without looking at him you said, “Tell Rosie I’m grateful for her hospitality and I will try to find a way to repay her. Also that I’m sorry that I had to retire without saying hello but I feel rather…faint.” Before leaving completely you said, “See you back at the hotel.”

The rest of the day you hid in your room, sulking and pacing. Charlie had tried to coax you out, seeing how angry you’d been when you came back, but you denied every effort she had.

“It’s not good to stay cooped up in there,” the Princess pleaded.

“I like my alone time.”

“But- but I had games planned! Husk was going to show us how to play Blackjack and Dominoes!”

“I prefer bridge, and he’ll just cheat us anyways.”

She gave a disappointed sigh, and outside the door you could hear Vaggie talking to her, telling Charlie to give you your space.

For three nights straight you avoided Alastor, finishing up your hotel duties quickly before hiding in your room. You grew bored after the first day admittedly, a person could only sleep and bathe and read so much. The fourth night is when he knocked on your door while you lied draped on your couch, your nose in a book you’d already finished before. Thinking it was Charlie, you ignored it, sure she’d get the message. It insisted however, rapping harder the second time. You sighed, annoyed. “Who is it?”

“Alastor, may I come in?”

A sour taste came in your mouth, “No.”

“You cannot lock yourself away from me forever.”

You lifted yourself off the couch, full of bitterness, “I can and I will!”

An electric hum filled your ears, the sound of Alastor weighing his words, “Could you at least entertain my attempt?”

Walking to the door and opening it slightly you saw his face, those deep, hooded eyes dark as blood, cracked lips, and hollow cheekbones. All of those beautiful, haunting features draped in remorse. You sighed, cursing the affection you had for him.

“Fine, but I’m still cross with you.” That made him smile, if only a tad.

Opening the door fully, you saw he’d brought one of the dining carts from the unused kitchen clad in a clean white sheet. Alastor pushed it to the center of the room before spiritedly ripping the cover from the cart, presenting polished silver dishes of raw meat and organs. From the bottom shelf of it, he had pulled a fine bottle of wine and two shining glasses.

“I helped myself to a bottle of Husk’s finest, the patrons here don’t have as refined tastes as you and I.” He gave a small grin. So this is what he brought with him, a peace offering. Your stomach was empty from only eating a small meal earlier in the day, so perhaps it was not in vain, though you weren’t sure if you were ready to forgive him.

“I’ll help you set the table,” you offered, feeling guilty he put so much effort into pleasing you.

Alastor held his hands up, “No need darling.” He put his hand on his throat, “What I said the other day was very…” he coughed into his hand, “ungentlemanly of me, and I wanted to make it up to you.”

You folded your hands and held them to your chest, looking at the embarrassment he tried to hide. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, and raised your gaze to his. “Thank you, Alastor.” His grin widened as he sat down beside you.

He uncorked the bottle of wine, beginning to pour it into the glasses, “Of course.” He handed you the glass which you took gladly. The vintage was so dark it looked black, reflecting the lights that glowed from the ceiling. Swishing it, you could see the hidden shades of red that the wine hid.

“Demon’s blood, Husk calls it.” Alastor told you before he took a long sip.

“Fitting. Do you know how long he’s aged it?” Alastor shrugged, taking another swallow.

“I didn’t care to ask, but it tastes so good going down. Come, drink, I didn’t bring this up so I could get drunk by myself.” That made you giggle, how much he valued the both of you eating and drinking together.

Taking his lead, you titled your head back, savoring the warm burn of the wine going down. Its hot fingers lingered in your chest before fading, like drinking cold medicine. In three large gulps you finished your glass, noticing the way Alastor’s eyes watched your throat as you drank. After finishing your second glass you began to dig into the food he’d brought, pancreas tarts, cooked kidneys and…oh good god! On the largest plate was a raw heart, fresh and bloody.

“Where did you get this? You shouldn’t have!” Your eyes went wide and your mouth began to salivate. A raw heart! Oh and it was human too! Such a fine delicacy must have taken so much begging from Alastor!

“Rosie owed me a favor. And I owe it to you, for making such a jackass of myself.”

You took another sip of your wine, feeling your face begin to flush. You helped yourself to a tart while Alastor poured himself another glass. As you ate you felt his eyes on you again, focusing on the way your teeth bit into the pastry, your swan’s neck showing your swallow, and how your tongue dragged across your lips. Feeling bold, you placed your feet in his lap and wiped the corner of your mouth with your finger, licking the tip of it with your tongue. He swallowed, hard, his eyes growing wide.

“Are you looking at something?” Your voice a heavy seduction.

“Possibly.” He drank again. Leaning back on the arm of the couch, he placed his glass on the floor. The tips of his fingers grazed your legs, “Though I do have another question for you, if I may.”

A sultry smirk grew on your face, “That depends on what it is, Al.” God, you could see the glint in his eyes then.

Alastor looked up at you from his hooded eyes, “I’ve been wondering…about your “darling.” You arched an eyebrow; your interest piqued. “Did they ever have…you?” His breath shuddered.

“Have me, how?” You teased.

“Oh humor me my dear,” He purred

You smirked and shifted your legs in his lap. “Hmm, maybe once or twice…” You sit up from your recline and crawl onto his lap.

“What sorts of things did they do to you?”

Running your fingers down his chest you savored the way he squirmed and shifted, “All sorts of unholy things”

Alastor choked on his breath, his eyes transfixed on your face. Slowly, he caught it, regaining a certain boldness afterwards. His hand found the top of your stocking, fingering the nylon taut to your thighs. “Getting rather comfortable aren’t we my dear?”

The smirk you had deepened and you pulled in closer, feeling the heat of his breath tickle your cheeks. You looked into his eyes, “I could get much more comfortable if you like, Al.” For what seemed like ages you lingered, until you felt you had tortured the man enough. Slowly, you leaned in, seemingly ready to kiss his shiny red lips. Grinning, you pulled a piece of dry skin from his bottom lip between your teeth, peeling it to show the bleeding flesh beneath.

You sat back on his lap and spat out the skin. Looking at him, you saw that hunger in his eyes again. That fine line of decorum the two of you had with one another, ignoring the lingering gazes and longing touches, all thrown away with one bite. Underneath, you could feel his arousal beginning to grow hard. You rolled your hips slightly into him, earning a throaty groan from Alastor. From the silver dining cart you pulled the piece de resistance, that raw bleeding heart, and sunk your teeth into it, tasting the sweet flavor of iron. Trails of blood dripped from your mouth onto your decolletage, slowly turning brown and flaky.

Alastor’s breath heaved, growing even harder from that sultry cannibalistic display. He pulled you towards him and pressed your mouth to his, saccharine saliva mixing with sanguine. His tongue slid and twisted about yours, savoring every inch of its taste. You pulled away from him to catch your breath, making him whine. Leaning in again, he dragged his tongue along your neck, cleaning up the drying strings of blood.

Both of you straightened up then, him holding you proper now. One hand ran its fingers through his shiny red hair and the other cupped his aching sex, so taut against his trousers.

“Is that what you were so upset about Al? If they fucked me or not?” You purred into his ear.

The tips of your fingers fluttered over his hip, tracing its edge before returning to his cock. “I bet you wondered if I did this to them, didn’t you?” A small nip was placed on his neck, leaving a red half-moon. Your breath grew hot against his cheek as you whispered into his ear again,

“Maybe I did, and maybe I did so many more dirty things to them.”

Alastor enraptured your mouth in another needy kiss. His words heavy with radio static, “What sort of things my dear? Or are you all talk?” Your grin widened seeing the shock in his eyes when you began to unbutton his overcoat.

“Let me show you.”

Four little words was all it took to send him over the edge. Picking you up, his hands traced over all the parts of your succulent body. When he flopped you on the bed, hair as tousled as a pin-up, you reached out a stockinged leg to him, that devious look on your face growing. Oh how badly he wanted to have you, hastily unzipping your dress as you stripped him down to his undershirt and trousers. Deft fingers hooked around the tops of your stockings, pulling them down as fast as they could. You dropped his trousers and took off his shirt, admiring all of that soft, gray skin.

You pressed your mouth to the flesh of his stomach, blessing it with small love-bites that made him shudder. All along his torso you left red patches and traced your cool fingertips along the hard edges where his ribs poked out. You tilted your head up and moved his hands to the straps of your brasserie, exposing all of your hot, yearning flesh. He cupped a breast and lied on top of you. Grinding his sex to yours he moaned into your mouth. It had been so…so long since you’d been wanted, since someone pressed their body to yours and you felt all of their heat as they slid into you, over and over again.

“Al,” You breathed

“What is it?”

“Get on your back.”

And so he did.

Alastor’s back against the mattress and your palms against his chest, you let him enter you. He let out a string of curses when you did, and even more when you started moving in those easy rolling motions. Those large hands of his held the curve of your waist as you rode him, his eyes half-lidded as he watched your breasts bounce.

“The first time I saw you…” You began, going a little faster, “I wanted you,” You heard a small thud as he dropped his head against the pillows.

“I thought about you kissing me and touching me all over” That’s when the pulses of pleasure started to build up, prickling you in sweet needles that went all the way up your spine.

“And about you sticking your fingers in me and..and your tongue too” You felt your face heat up and your sex grow slicker, admitting those indecent thoughts you only entertained during late nights when your fingers wandered. Alastor gripped your waist tighter, making your rhythm harsher. You looked down on him, his eyes glazed over with euphoria, and felt your mouth pool with saliva.

Digging your nails into the skin of his chest you kept on. “For a whole week I couldn’t keep from slipping my hands between my legs.” Your voice, thick and hoarse. “I wanted to know what you tasted like, if-if your mouth tasted like blood,” that was when he quickened the pace even more. Your sex was so hot and wet, all the way at the base of your spine you could feel your orgasm coming to you, a full-body shiver that made your eyes well with tears.

The last part was what sent him over the edge though.

“Sometimes, I’d bite myself so I could taste the blood when I’d touch-” was all it took to make him come.

Fuck it felt good too. A weak falsetto escaped your mouth when he released, so warm and filling. That’s what made you reach your end too. You clawed your nails in his skin so deep there were two broken half-moons on his chest. Your thighs clenched against his torso, quivering, as you could feel your body become as light and floaty as chiffon.

Alastor let the both of you ride it out, that sweet joyous bliss. When your mind returned from the heaven it was sent to, you leaned over, resting on top of him. He moved you gently, pressing you closely to his chest. For a while, neither of you spoke, the air lingering with the smell of sweat and blood and sex. You ran your fingers through his hair again; He kissed the back of your hand before speaking.

“If I’d known all that would come out of making you angry at me, I would’ve earned your ire a long while ago.” You rolled your eyes, flicking his chest playfully.

“Perhaps we could do this again, without the arguing?” You propose, “You’re quite good at it.”

A smile stretched across his face as he played with a lock of hair that rested near your face, “Expect nothing less from an overlord of hell cher.” One of his hands slid to your lower back, tracing small circles on that creamy flesh.

“How about we try one more time without the arguing, for good measure?”

You smirked and kissed him again. All for good measure.

#hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel smut #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagines #fanfic request

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changisworld · 10 months ago

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Can I request a roommates with chan where you’re in your room masturbating and Chris’s room is right next to yours but you don’t know that he’s home so he can hear you getting yourself off? He’d probably try not to hear but can’t help but get turned on and start masturbating while moaning a bit too loud but he doesn’t notice you hear him until he realizes that you’ve made your way into his room and he’s all embarrassed but you reassure him that’s it ok and decide to ride him so good he’s seeing stars lol 😂

OMG YES?!? THANK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR THIS IDEA OMFG you have no idea what this ask has done to my brain

i got a bit carried away so it’s longer than i expected but the more words the better am i right😆

i hope you enjoy it!!🫶🏼

OBVIOUS 18+, MDNI PLEASE!!!

WORD COUNT; 2,319

**smut warnings under the cut**

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

any comments/ re blogs are deeply appreciated!!

main masterlist here

SMUT WARNINGS; subby chan, softdom?reader, mention/ use of sex toys(dildo, R using), mention of alcohol, mention of past encounters, embarrassed chan, pet names(gorgeous, baby etc) soft sex, aftercare, BIG DICK CHANNIE TROPE, playful biting, creampie, confessing of feelings at the end :3

You have just gotten home from an extremely long tiring day at work & from getting groceries since you knew your best friend & roommate bangchan, would be far too busy at the studio to go grab some. You wouldn’t be surprised if that man had a bed built in that stupid room due to how long he spent there, you had to act like his mum at times & force him to eat because that man would constantly forget so him buying groceries was basically zero chance.

You put the groceries on the counter & stretch & sigh then just stand in silence for a second, appreciating but also quite saddened by the quietness. Truth is, you get quite lonely & down due to how much chan is away, always wanting to speak to him & watch movies with him proved to be difficult with your busy schedule & his even busier one. But one thing you’re thankful for is because he’s gone so much, you don’t need to worry about him walking in on you masterbating there’s nothing you love more than pulling an orgasm or two out of you after a long day & that would obviously prove more awkward & difficult if Chan was in the next room over, through only one thin wall separating you both.

As soon as you finish putting the groceries away you’re practically skipping up to your bedroom, practically stripping yourself along the way. you run past bangchans room on the way, only wearing your dress pants & bra at this point, holding your shirt in your hand & your shoes discarded by the front door as you came in.

As you get into your room you don’t bother to shut your bedroom door, not needing to since nobody’s home, right?

You finish getting undressed & basically leap onto your bed, grabbing your favourite vibrating dildo from your bedside drawer & your computer before logging in & going straight to your go to channel on the hub. Your favourite porn star is hot in every aspect, gorgeous rock hard abs, strong arms, a slightly large nose, gorgeous plump lips & most of all, a huge dick. As much as you don’t want to admit it, his body reminds you so much of chan, but you try push those thoughts out of your mind as you start toying with your clit with the fingers you just licked, preparing to use the dildo.

Within no longer than five minutes you are fucking yourself open with the vibrating dildo, using the balls of it as extra pleasure on your clit, you are pinching your nipples at the same time for the extra pleasure, looking over at the computer screen as best as you can since your eyes keep closing. the whines & moans leaving your mouth are u surprisingly louder than the sound of the vibrating toy currently being squeezed by your pink walls & you feel that familiar knot being built up in your stomach when the toy died.You realise you forgot to put it on charge this morning & you screamed internally. You let out a cry of desperation as you quickly try to use your fingers to fill the void but your orgasm had already failed. you get up on slightly shaky legs to go find the charger when you hear a hushed whine. You turn to look at the computer screen, still playing but you know your favourite stars noises & that definitely wasn’t him. you pause your computer & you hear another moan, a bit louder than the last. Your mind freezes in the moment, chan was HOME you quickly throw a pair of cloth shorts & a baggy shirt(that’s actually chans that he lended you) on before you go & knock on his door, panicking internally. Nobody answers the door so you think for a second, hoping chan wasn’t home but then you heard a rustling noise from inside & without thinking twice, you creak open his door, shocked but also not surprised at the sight in front of you. Across the room, at his desk is chan with his back to you but you can tell he’s jerking off. You don’t know how to react for a second but decide it’s weird that you’re just staring at him so you let out a small cough.

“You,eh, coulda told me you were home chan”

Chan instantly jumps almost out of his skin & looks at you with a red face, damp hair & blown out eyes as he starts rambling.

“fuck y/n i’m sorry! i eh, i got home earlier, i was gonna tell you i was home but then you… you know, didn’t wanna interrupt, heh.”

Chan says, not looking at you anymore, trying to tuck his dick back into his underwear.

“Well by the looks of it, i’m interrupting something now? were you… jerking off to me chan?” You raise your eyebrows slightly, quite flattered at the idea.

“goodness no y/n! i- i’d never!! promise!”

His face goes even redder in the dim lighting as he stands up to walk over to you to try plead his case.

“chan don’t sweat it, it’s hot to be honest, i mean, it’s flattering i guess, don’t you agree?” you walk over to him so you’re face to face with his gorgeous one, looking into his eyes innocently as if you have even one innocent thought in your head at the moment.

“you’re, you’re not creeped out?” Chan says, surprised. He acknowledges the lack of personal space between you both & he gets quite flustered & you can tell, you take one of his hands in your own.

“no, afterall we are best friends chan, ive seen basically every part of you over the years, you fingered me once in a random persons bathroom at a party for goodness sake, ive seen you throw up on the side of the street due to too much alcohol, nothing should embarrass you, i mean nothing embarrasses me anyway”

you laugh slightly & decide to put your hand around the back of his neck & pull him slightly closer to you & you lean into his ear & whisper; “if you want this i’m more than happy to give it to you chan, judging by how hard you still are in your pants, i think it’s safe to say you do want it, hm?”

Chan doesn’t say anything but his reddened face speaks a thousand words, before you can second guess yourself, you lean in & kiss him. It’s a lot different to what your previous drunk kisses have been like, it has more… emotion? there, you get butterflies in your stomach this time as you kiss him, more than any other time.. you’re both using tongue but it’s quite tame, not overwhelming but you are still able to taste eachother. His hands find themselves at your waist & he pulls you further into him, not breaking it.

You nor chan are completely sure when you ended up on his bed but you both did, you’re straddling his lap, his shirt now gone again showing his gorgeous abs, even more stunning & better looking than the pornstar you were “obsessed” with, you now have the real, the better version in front of you. Chan is making out with your neck as his hands are on your ass & you’re slowly grinding on him.

“As good as my shirt looks on you, it would look better off, dontcha think?”

You nod instantly & lift your arms up so he can pull it off you with ease, showing your stunning tits with your even prettier nipples, hard & reddened. Chan let’s a small whimper escape as he looks at them, his grip on your ass tightening.

“take off your shorts too y/n , please baby, fuck you’re stunning”

you blush at his words & waste no time in taking your shorts off before climbing back on top of him, but not before helping chan also take his pants & underwear off again, leaving you both nude. You notice instantly how big his dick is, atleast 7 inches you think to yourself & so so thick, your mouth waters instantly. You grind yourself along his length as he looks at you with a shiny look in his eyes, almost as shiny as his cock now that your slick has ran all over it. You grab his base & begin to line yourself up when he stops you.

“Doncha need some sort of prep y/n? don’t you want me to finger you or eat you hm?”

you smile at his words but allow yourself to slide down, really slowly.

“I already prepped myself with the dildo i was using earlier handsome, i dont need it”

you smile at him innocently, as if he isn’t stretching you out insanely, no amount of using your favourite dildo could ever compare to this.

You both let out a whimper at the fullness & warmth you are both feeling, chans noise however coming out more like a whine. You collect yourself as you begin moving up & down his length, making sure to clench to watch his face contort with pleasure. Chan looks up at you & cups your face before pulling you down to kiss him again as he uses his other hand to trail down your jaw, neck, collarbone than landing on your nipple, he pinches it & twists it which makes you let out a needy groan into his mouth & you feel his dick twitch inside you.

“y/n you’re so fucking wet, how are you this wet? fuck, you’re a goddess.”

You smile at his words before kissing him again.

The noise coming from the room is nothing short of pornographic, the sound of the clapping of skin, wetness of your pussy getting stretched open, the whines & moans coming from you both & also the sound of spit being shared between you both.

Your pace begins to slow down due to sore legs & you start to sound more desperate.

“Aww, are you tired babe? want me to do the work hm? just say the word baby, i’m all yours.” He looks at your tired expression with nothing but lust, slithering his hand down to start toying with your clit which makes your eyes shoot down & you moan even louder.

“no, i just- i wanna please you okay baby? let me.”

You gather the rest of your strength & plant your feet on the bed & start riding him as if you would die if you didn’t, you lean backwards onto his legs so he could get a clear view of your pussy as you start to feel what you were robbed of earlier in the night. “fuck y/n you’re so beautiful, nothing on earth compares to this, absolutely nothing at all.” you blush at his words but don’t…can’t think about what he’s saying for too long as you feel your insides bubbling up.

“fuck chan, you-you’re so deep ima, ima cum” you whine, looking into his eyes, your hair sticking to your face & out of breath. You sit up again & start grinding on him, using his pubic bone & trimmed pubes as friction against your clit to push you over the edge, at the same time you cup chans balls & start needing them with your fingers

“fuck beautiful, ima cum too, where can i cum baby?” Chan seems & is even more finished than you are, so why not let him completely tip over the edge?

“in, inside please baby, want it, so ba-fuck channie i’m cumin’!”

Your sentence is cut short as you cream his dick & you start spasming on top of him, unable to keep going through this burst of pleasure. the second you clench on his dick as you cum, he cums too. you feel the hot seed fill you up inside & it adds to your own pleasure. Chan throws his head back & groans so raspy & whiny,gripping your hips as hard as be can to keep you planted on him.

As you both come down from your highs, you flop forwards so you are now laying across his chest, nipples touching & you lean into his neck & kiss it softly.

“If i knew this would have been the outcome, i woulda took your dildo off charge as soon as you left for work a whole long time ago, pretty girl”

He laughs as he tilts his head to the side to get your hair out of your face to kiss your forehead

“you dick! i knew i put it on charge this morning! who says i wouldn’t have came to you a while ago if you had threw hints at me!”

you playfully hit his chest & bite his cheek.

“i did throw hints at you! i think? maybe in just a scaredy-cat so it wasn’t obvious butttt y/n i guess i eh kinda like you?”

you can’t help but blush at his words & your heart races. you sit up so you can look at him properly.

“i guess i like you too” you roll your eyes playfully when you feel chans dick twitch inside you. “You’re hard again?? you just came!” You giggle at his reaction, turning his head away from you & covering his eyes with embarrassment.

“what did you expect? my best friend & crush of YEARS just said she likes me back? if you had a dick you’d do the same trust me. anyway, do you mind getting off my dick so i can get us cleaned up?”

You squeeze his cheeks & lean down to kiss him before getting off his dick & watch him wipe his sweat off before throwing a pair of sweatpants on to go get you both water.

512 notes · View notes

supernaturalscribe67 · 5 months ago

Text

Denial

Words: 5,703

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: Castiel x Male!Winchester!Reader

Warning(s): Language, Winchesters being Winchesters, implied sexual content, awkward 'flirting', Dean feeling the same way about Cas x Reader as Sam feels about Destiel, Fluff, Humor

Summary: The reader does NOT have a crush on Castiel. At least, that's what he keeps saying. Sam and Dean, however, aren't convinced in the slightest. What happens when the classic Winchester shenanigans take it too far? Will the reader's true feelings be revealed?

Request:

hi. i love your work very much. I humbly request a Castiel x Winchester!reader, where the reader is the oldest brother and Cas and the reader fall for each other. Cas and Dean are best friends I feel like so Dean might tease and be like "what are your intentions with my big brother" and Cas is like "...wdym........." bc he doesn't wanna admit he has feelings and meanwhile the reader and Sam are on a minor hunt together or something and Sam is like "so when are you gonna make your move" and the reader is like "!!! i do not have feelings for this baby in a trench coat!!! wdym!!!!!" and so Sam and Dean come together and take matters into their own hands and come up with some shenanigans that make Cas and the reader come together and admit how they feel for each other. just something nice and fluffy and sweet. thank you very much 💕

Anonymous

A/N: Happy Monday! I had a lot of fun writing this and I'm glad to finally be getting it out! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

~ Much Love!

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Dean’s laughter erupted down the hallway as (Y/N) left his room. He couldn’t help but shake his head as he slung his large duffel bag over his shoulder. Just as he closed his door, Sam’s door opened. He came out, clad in his usual flannel and jean combination, his duffel resting at his side. When he caught sight of (Y/N), he smiled.

“You got everything?” (Y/N) asked.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded. “Let’s head out.”

The two of them made their way down the hall towards the bunker entrance. Dean’s laugh could be heard getting louder as they walked near the library. Upon closer inspection, they could see Dean and Castiel sitting together at one of the tables, Dean’s laptop between them. A bowl of popcorn sat in Dean’s lap, his cheeks slightly puffed from the handful he had just eaten. Castiel’s head was tilted slightly to the side, eyes squinted as he studied the screen. The sound of Bill Murray’s voice echoed through the speakers.

“The Hell are you two watching?” (Y/N) asked.

“Groundhog Day,” Dean answered, words slightly muffled by the popcorn. “Cas hasn’t seen it before.”

(Y/N) furrowed his brows. “Out of all the movies you could pick from, you pick Groundhog Day?”

“Hey, don’t knock Bill Murray.”

“I’ll knock whoever the Hell I wanna knock. Anyways, you got the keys to Baby?”

For the first time since they approached the archway, Dean turned to look at them. He took in their attire and eyed their bags.

“Where’re you two going?” He asked as he began to dig the keys out of his pant pocket.

“Buddy of mind in Colorado says they have a Wendigo problem that needs fixing. They can’t seem to track it down, so they need some extra hands.”

“Well, why does Sam get to go but I gotta stay here?”

“It’s a Wendigo, Dean. Bringing more people will make things complicated. Four against one is plenty. Consider this your little vacation.”

Dean sighed. “Fine. I bet it’s Bradley Knox who called anyway,” he said as he tossed the keys.

(Y/N) swiftly caught them with his left hand and pointed at his brother. “For your information, it was, in fact, Bradley Knox.”

Sam’s eyes widened and he frowned. “Oh, what? That jackass? Come on, you never said we would be helping him.”

“Because I knew you were going to bitch about it.”

“Who is Bradley Knox?” Castiel asked, his attention turned away from the computer screen.

Dean reached over and paused the movie. “He’s this dick (Y/N) met when he tried hunting solo. A real piece of work. We helped him out a couple of times, and he just shit-talked us the whole time.” He answered.

“He acts like he’s still in middle school. He smells bad, dresses like a pig, and he talks like one, too. Plus, he wouldn’t stop calling me Sasquatch last time.” Sam added.

(Y/N) rolled his eyes. “Look, I know he sucks, but he has a hunt, and we need to stop this Wendigo. It’s already killed five people. We just have to get in and get out. That’s it.”

Sam’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “Alright, but if he calls me Sasquatch again-”

“Then I’ll make sure to stop him from hurting little Sammy’s feelings,” (Y/N) reached up and pinched Sam’s cheek.

Sam smacked his hand away. “Get off me.”

“Oh, get the stick out of your ass. We’ll be near Denver, so I’ll take you to that new fancy vegan place that opened recently.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, whatever will get you to not bitch and moan the whole trip.” He flipped the keys in his hand. “Alright, we’re heading out. Don’t get into any trouble while we’re gone, Dean.”

Dean scoffed. “I’m not five.” He grumbled.

“You act like it,” (Y/N) mumbled before he looked over at Castiel. Their eyes met. “Keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid, okay?”

Castiel nodded. “I will watch over him.”

“I don’t need a babysitter!” Dean exclaimed.

“I beg to differ. Then, Cas, when Sam and I get back, I’ll show you a good movie that isn’t poorly acted.”

Slowly, a smile formed on Castiel’s lips. “Okay,”

(Y/N) returned the smile. “We’ll see you later,” he took a couple of steps backward before he turned his back on them.

Sam gave a small wave before he followed his brother up the stairs and out the front door.

*~*

Dean leaned back in his seat when the heavy metal door slammed shut. The movie on the computer was still paused, so he took a moment to glance over at Castiel. He noted how the corners of his lips were still curled upward, his crow's feet and laugh lines prominent. At the sight, he smirked and shifted his body so he was facing him.

“So…” Dean trailed as he sat the bowl of popcorn on the table. “(Y/N), huh?”

Castiel looked over at him, the smile vanishing, and replaced with an expression of confusion. “What about (Y/N)?”

Dean shrugged his shoulders. “He’s a good guy, right?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“A really good guy?”

“Yes?”

“Would you say you like being around him?”

“I do.”

“Really like being around him?”

Castiel shifted in his seat. “I’m not understanding this line of questioning, Dean.”

“Do you like my brother?”

“I do, yes, he’s my friend. Did I do something that made you assume I didn’t?”

“No, it’s just-” Dean sighed. “You know what? Nevermind. Let’s just watch the movie.” Without waiting for a response, he reached over and resumed the film.

Castiel stared at him for a moment with furrowed brows. After a couple of seconds, he shook his head and returned his attention to the computer.

*~*

The Impala drove smoothly down the nearly deserted highway. Instead of the loud classic rock that normally played through the speakers, Celine Dion’s smooth voice filled the car. (Y/N) sat in the driver’s seat, one arm resting on the window sill while the other held the wheel. Sam took his usual spot in the passenger’s seat.

“So, what info do we have so far?” Sam asked.

“Well, so far, the only thing we know is that the victims were tourists. Some of those people decided to search for a good hiking trail and then, all of a sudden, they were snatched. At least, that’s what’s assumed.”

“Did the victims know each other?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do we know when they got snatched?”

“Kind of.”

“Where they got snatched?”

“Kind of.”

“Does Bradley even know what he’s doing?”

“Probably not.”

Sam sighed and slouched in his seat, running his fingers through his hair. (Y/N)’s shoulders dropped.

“Look,” he began. “I know it’s not the best scenario, but any start is better than a blank slate. We know a great deal more about Wendigos than Bradley does, so I’m sure we can knock this out of the park, alright? I say we just talk about something else, get our mind off of it for a while, then we-”

“Do you like Cas?”

“What!?” (Y/N) exclaimed, eyes wide, both hands tightly clenched onto the wheel. “No! I, no, what, why would you ask me that?”

“What?” Sam asked innocently, although he couldn’t hold back the smirk that curled on his lips. “I just asked if you liked him, that’s all. You said you wanted to talk about something else.”

“I didn’t mean that!”

“Come on, I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

“Well, I think your hallucinations are back because you’re seeing shit.”

“So…you don’t like Cas?”

“I don’t like Cas! Now drop it!”

(Y/N)’s eyes were glued to the road ahead, which allowed Sam to get a good look at his profile. At the top of his cheekbones, next to his nose, sat a red tinge. It was barely noticeable, but it was there. He pressed his lips together and looked away, holding his hands up briefly in mock surrender.

“Fine, I’ll drop it.” He said, voice barely above a whisper.

“Good. Now shut up, Whitney Houston’s playing.” (Y/N) grumbled, reached over, and turned up the music.

I Wanna Dance With Somebody thumped through the metal frame, the brothers silent as they continued their lengthy trek from Lebanon, Kansas to Denver, Colorado.

*~*

Vacation? What could Dean do on vacation? Stuck in the bunker, no less. He could catch up on some television series that he started, but he knew he would get tired of that soon enough. The Impala had been hijacked, so giving her the fine tune he had been desperate to give was out of the question. Bar hopping wasn’t an option, as he trusted no other car than Baby. What kind of hobbies did people his age get into? Crochet? Cross Stitch? Sudoku? Over his dead body.

In the end, Dean sat on his bed, pieces of his handgun scattered across the blanket as he meticulously cleansed each part until they glimmered in the dim lamplight. It was a task he had been meaning to do for a while. He guessed his ‘vacation’ could be used to catch up on all the chores he had held off.

Smoke on the Water rang out through the otherwise quiet room. Dean stopped his action to look at the screen. Sammy Calling… Dean sat the pieces down, grabbed his phone, and accepted the call.

“Hey, Sam. You guys doing okay?” He asked as he settled on the edge of his bed.

“Yeah, we’re about halfway there. Listen, I don’t have much time to talk, (Y/N) just walked into the gas station for a minute. Did you talk to Cas?”

“Yeah,”

“And?”

“He didn’t get it.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I asked him if he liked (Y/N), he said ‘Of course I do, he’s my friend’,” Dean explained with a slightly mocking tone.

“Or, he could have understood what you were asking and just played dumb.”

“I give Cas credit for a lot of things, but this is not one of those times. What about you? Did you ask him yet?”

“I did, and, of course, he denied it.”

“Of course, he did,” Dean rolled his eyes as he laid back against his pillows.

“Get this, though. He was blushing.”

“No way.”

“Yes!”

“And you’re sure it was a blush?”

“One hundred percent.”

“Oh, this is just too perfect. Sam, we have to get those two together.”

“How? Neither of them will admit their feelings for one another. They’re in denial.”

Dean hummed and pursed his lips in thought. “We might just have to get creative. I’m on vacation. I’ve got plenty of time on my hands to think.”

“Yeah, yeah, lucky you.” Sam deadpanned. “Oh, I gotta go. (Y/N)’s coming out.”

“I’ll send you my ideas,” Dean spoke quickly before he ended the call and tossed his phone onto the bed.

Many thoughts formed in his head. Mischievous, Winchester thoughts. If he thought his pranks were good, the ideas that he had to get (Y/N) and Castiel together were to die for.

It had been a personal goal of his for well over a year. He wasn’t ignorant to the passing glances that the two of them gave one another, it was rather gross if he had anything to say about it. He could tell, though, that Castiel’s presence made his brother genuinely happy. If anyone deserved that happiness, it was him. If they got together, perhaps then they could keep their bedroom eyes away from him. If he had to witness it anymore, he was sure to go insane.

As he went to stand from his bed, the familiar clink of metal filled his ears. He glanced down at the scattered handgun parts that littered his bed. With a sigh, he sat back against the pillows and began to reassemble his gun, not caring that the quality of his cleaning wasn’t perfect. Brainstorming could wait until he was finished. He was on vacation, after all.

*~*

“Stupid rich people and their stupid, worthless suits,” (Y/N)’s deep grumble echoed throughout the small motel bathroom.

His brothers snorted in amusement. None of them wanted to dress up for the charity ball they had to attend - as it was necessary to gain intel for their case - so a three-way game of rock-paper-scissors was done to determine which would be unlucky enough to wear the rental suit. For the first time in months, (Y/N) lost. The title of ‘loser’ normally went to Dean, rarely Sam, but the younger Winchesters didn’t want to risk having to put on the constrictive outfit. They seldom rigged the game to get what they wanted, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Castiel sat at the end of one of the beds, eyes fixated on the bathroom door, brows knitted together. “(Y/N) doesn’t seem too happy,” he commented.

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t be happy either if I got stuck wearing a suit around old people.” Dean chuckled.

“What’s wrong with wearing a suit?”

“They’re just uncomfortable.”

Castiel glanced down at himself before his eyes settled on the brothers. “I’m not uncomfortable in my attire.”

“You’re used to it, Cas,” Sam said. “We wear jeans and flannel every day. It’s more practical for hunting. Hell, even getting around in our FEDs costumes is a pain. I don’t know how you do it.”

“Who the HELL thought cuff links were a good idea!?” (Y/N)’s loud voice boomed.

Dean covered his mouth to stop himself from spitting up his coffee. Oh, how the simple struggles of his siblings made him smile. Castiel’s head whipped back around as he stared at the door with a look of worry. Sam and Dean took note of it immediately and shared a knowing look. Dean gestured with his head over to his friend, and that was when Sam turned in his chair.

“You know what I think could cheer him up, Cas?” He asked.

Castiel peered over at him and Sam swore he saw those baby blues light up. “What?” He asked, head tilted to the side.

“Compliments.”

“Compliments?”

“When he comes out, tell him he looks nice.”

“Tell him he looks hot,” Dean interjected.

“Yeah! Tell him he looks hot.” Sam nodded in agreement.

“Hot?” Castiel frowned.

“Trust me, Cas, people love compliments, and saying that someone’s hot is a huge one. It’ll make him feel better almost immediately.” Dean explained.

Castiel considered the advice before he nodded. “Okay, I will tell him he looks…hot.”

Dean beamed and reached across the table to give Sam a fistbump. Sam furrowed his brows and shook his head. Dean’s smile faded before he cleared his throat and placed his hands back down on the table.

It didn’t take long before the bathroom door opened and out came a rather irritated (Y/N). The suit looked and felt foreign on him, a massive step from his usual hunting wear. He adjusted the collar of the jacket before he smoothed out the front. Finally, he let out a sigh and gestured out with his arms in a grandiose fashion.

“How do I look?” He asked, voice monotone.

Sam and Dean pursed their lips, looked him over, and gave supportive head nods before their eyes shifted to Castiel. (Y/N)’s gaze moved from Sam to Dean to Castiel. Their eyes locked and Castiel immediately looked away, seeming to find his hands easier to look at.

“You look…hot,” Castiel said.

(Y/N)’s brows shot up and his eyes widened. “I, um, I do?”

“Yes,” Castiel gave a small, sweet smile.

(Y/N)’s lips opened and shut rapidly, as if he were a fish out of water. He let out a breathy chuckle as he reached up to rub the back of his neck. “Uh, thanks, Cas,”

“Of course,”

A soft smile graced (Y/N)’s lips as their eyes connected for a brief moment. It didn’t take long before his eyes wandered back over to his brothers, who were both sporting wide smirks. He wiped the smile off of his face and straightened up as if he had seemingly forgotten they were in the same room.

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” He swiftly made his way out of the motel room.

Sam and Dean shared a look before they stood from their spots at the table. Castiel followed suit. When (Y/N) was out of earshot, Castiel spoke.

“He seems better,” he said with a bright, proud smile.

Dean returned the smile. “He sure does, buddy,” He patted him twice on the back before he wrapped his arm around his shoulders and led him out of the motel room. “He sure does.”

*~*

God bless the Men of Letters and God bless good water pressure.

There were countless amenities the bunker had that (Y/N) loved. The stainless steel kitchen appliances, the massive garage, the memory foam mattress, each of them held a special place in his heart. However, the showers take the cake. Who knew water could get so hot? And who knew water could relax your muscles so well? If there was one thing he loved to do after a long day, it was spend a good chunk of his evening in the shower to unwind.

All good things must come to an end, though, as he had earned his fair share of lectures from his brothers about conserving the hot water. While he understood their point, he felt like he deserved the comfort after years of abuse in the hands of rusty, weak motel showerheads. And, dammit, he was going to get his compensation.

As he turned off the water, the bathroom fell into silence. Steam warped around his naked form and covered him like a blanket as he stepped onto the bath mat. He absentmindedly reached for the towel rack, but only came in contact with the cheap metal bar. He furrowed his brows and glanced at his hand to find that the rack was barren. He swore he had placed a towel there before. Above the towel rack, a light pink post-it note hung limply on the wall. (Y/N) frowned deeply, reached up, and grabbed the note. He held it close to his face to be able to see the sloppily written words.

This is for putting Nair in my body wash. ~ Sam

“That little bastard,” (Y/N) grumbled and crumbled up the note in his hand.

When had Sam been able to sneak into the bathroom to take his stuff? True, he had been known to mentally doze off in the shower, and lose all sense of himself in the middle of his wash, which had ultimately landed him victim to countless other pranks, but he would certainly be able to hear if anyone were to enter the bathroom and take his towel not two feet away, right? Regardless, at least he was within the safety of the bunker to do so. Having him space out in a motel bathroom could mean the difference between life and death. In the bunker, all he had was his pain in the ass little brothers to worry about.

With a new wave of irritation and not a care in the world, (Y/N) walked to the bathroom door and opened it. He was stopped dead in his tracks, mouth slightly open as he made to call out for his brother when he noticed Castiel standing directly in front of him, hand raised as if to knock. (Y/N)’s eyes widened and he felt a tightness appear in his chest. His mouth went dry and his heart raced. He was frozen.

“Hello, (Y/N),” Castiel said.

“Uh, hey,” (Y/N) replied slowly.

Castiel glanced down at the object in his arms before he held it out. “Sam and Dean asked me to bring you this. It was freshly washed.”

It took every ounce of willpower for (Y/N) to look down at the towel in Castiel’s possession.

“Thanks,” his voice was small as he accepted and brought it to his chest.

“You’re welcome.” Castiel smiled widely, and it was as if time itself had stopped.

(Y/N) returned the gesture as he found himself lost in Castiel’s gaze, a rather common occurrence as of late. He couldn’t help it. It was as if he were a deer in headlights, or a child staring directly into the deadlights of Pennywise’s true form. However, instead of an impending sense of doom, all he felt was peace, like a world of tranquility lived behind his eyes. A world that he wanted to go to.

“(Y/N)?” Castiel’s voice broke him out of his trance.

“Yeah?”

“Are you alright?”

It was impossible to miss the flicker of Castiel’s stare as he looked over (Y/N)’s body before retreating to his face. One good glance at himself made realization dawn on him. He never covered up. His face turned an undeniably dark shade of crimson as he was quick to unravel the towel he was given to preserve what little modesty he had left.

“Uh, yeah, I’m, um, I mean, yes, I’m okay,” he stumbled over his words. “I’m just gonna,” he slowly edged his way past Castiel awkwardly.

As he walked past, he tripped over his own feet and barely caught the towel before he could be revealed again. He chuckled, but it was more forced than anything.

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright, (Y/N)?” Castiel pushed, a hint of concern in his words.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine! Fine and dandy! A-okay!” He continued to answer as he walked backward down the hallway. It didn’t take long before his back came in contact with the cold, stone wall. He jumped and sheepishly fumbled to the conjoining hall. “There’s a wall there,” he muttered with an inelegant chuckle before he turned and made a mad dash down the hallway and away from the bathroom.

His face was on fire, he was sure of it. He knew Sam and Dean did that on purpose, those idiots. A part of him was thankful none of them were around to witness the interaction. Another part wanted them to be near so he could clobber them. Regardless, he knew he would have to get back at them, and he was going to make it his best revenge yet.

*~*

Itching powder? Too basic. Computer virus? Too complex. Hair dye in the showerhead? Possibly. All of the pranks he could think of were either too childish or had been used before over the years. He couldn’t believe he was forced to sit on his bed and scroll through the terrible articles that included titles such as “15 Awesome Pranks Your Sibling Will NEVER See Coming!” and “50 Best And Funny Pranks To Do On Friends”. None of them were helpful. They just seemed to spit the same suggestions of salt in their coffee, fake bugs on their pillow, and post-it notes over their rooms, all of which seemed bland for the level of revenge he sought.

The bedroom door flung open and bounced off the wall. (Y/N) jumped, eyes wide. Dean came into the room, all but dragging a confused Castiel to the bed. Sam followed closely.

“What the Hell is going on?” (Y/N) asked with a look of bewilderment.

“An intervention,” Dean responded as he sat Castiel down on the edge of the bed.

Without a moment of hesitation, Sam and Dean began to retreat to the exit.

“An intervention? Cas, what’re they- what’re you talking about?” (Y/N) stammered as he stood and began to follow them to the door.

He was too slow, though, as the door was shut seconds before he could reach it. He grabbed the door handle in a futile attempt to open the door but found it to be locked.

“What the Hell? Open the damned door!” He shouted and began to pound on the door with his fist.

“Nope!” Dean’s muffled voice came through the thick wood. “Not until you tell Cas how you feel.”

“What are you talking about!?”

“Oh, come on (Y/N)!” Sam exclaimed. “We both see how you look at him! Just tell him!”

(Y/N) pressed his lips together, nostrils flared. “Open the door!”

“No.” They said in unison.

(Y/N) growled and slammed his fists into the door, causing it to shake on the hinges.

“(Y/N),” Sam’s voice was quieter. “We know how hard it is for you to say how you feel, but we see how happy you are around him.”

“Yeah, and I’m tired of seeing you guys staring at each other all of the time. If I have to see you guys make bedroom eyes one more time I’m going to blow my brains out.” Dean scoffed.

(Y/N)’s jaw tightened as he leaned his forehead against the door. “If you don’t open this door right now, you both are going to feel my wrath.” He growled and venom dripped from his words.

“Ooo, I’m so scared,” Dean spoke in a childish tone.

“Dean,” Sam hissed. “Just, talk to him, okay? We’ll be back in an hour. If you guys have talked it out, we’ll unlock the door.”

With that, two pairs of footsteps could be heard retreating down the hall.

“An hour!? Sam! Dean! Open the door!” (Y/N)’s shouts echoed in the room.

Once more, (Y/N) grabbed the doorknob to try and pry it open, but quickly found his efforts to be fruitless. After a couple of attempts, and the logical side of him begging to not rip the door off the hinges, he pulled back. He ran his fingers through his hair stressfully and turned back to the bed. Castiel sat in the same spot Dean had put him in, hands folded in his lap. (Y/N) sighed.

“I’m sorry you got roped into their bullshit, Cas,” he said with a soft, sympathetic tone as he walked over and sat beside him. “Whenever those two idiots get something in their heads, they won’t rest until they are proven right, even if they aren’t.”

“Are they wrong?” Castiel asked.

“What?”

“Sam and Dean told me you have romantic feelings for me. Are they wrong?” He tilted his head to the side.

(Y/N) opened his mouth to speak, to deny anything and everything his brothers said. However, as he looked over at Castiel and stared into his eyes, he found the words were lost on him. He looked away, hoisted himself off the bed, and made his way over to the dresser. He leaned against it with his elbow, his opposite hand placed on his hip, back to Castiel. A moment of silence weighed heavy on them before Castiel, too, stood from the bed.

“(Y/N)?”

“No, they’re not wrong,” (Y/N) said, his voice quiet, almost mute. “I…I like you.” He snorted. “That’s the first time I’ve admitted it.”

“You like me?”

(Y/N) turned back to Castiel. Their eyes met once again, but, that time, neither felt the urge to shy away. Instead, they kept their gaze, as if to read the other’s expression, as words seemed too complex for either one to be masters in. Slowly, (Y/N) took a couple of steps closer to Castiel.

“Yes. More than a friend. More than family. I mean, I don’t even know how to describe it. I get…nervous whenever I’m around you, but I’m the happiest when I am. No matter how terrible of a day I have, you always seem to make it better just by being near. I don’t know if this is what love feels like, but if it is, it’s strong when you’re around, and I never want it to stop.” His voice got quiet, words spoken barely above a whisper.

Again, they stared in silence, eyes searching for words yet spoken. Although only one had the capability of hearing them while the other was left in the dark. Eventually, (Y/N)’s gaze shifted to silent begging, wanting Castiel to say something, anything.

“I feel the same, and I have for a while,” Castiel finally spoke, never breaking eye contact. “I admit, I was scared to share how I felt. I understand the Winchester’s long history with the loss of loved ones, and I feared you would have your reservations about entering a relationship with me. I, too, have some reservations.”

(Y/N) nodded. The Winchesters had a lengthy list of enemies, most of whom would gain immense pleasure from causing as much pain to them as possible, even if it meant they took the lives of the ones they loved most. Being the lover of a Winchester wasn’t for the faint of heart. It was a death sentence.

“I understand. But, Cas,” (Y/N) reached up and caressed his cheek, thumb brushing gently against his stubble. “I hate to admit it, but I think it took my brothers locking us up in my room to finally realize that I would rather live a short life with you than any life without you.”

Castiel leaned against his touch. His hand reached up to brush his fingertips.

“May I kiss you?” His voice flowed smoothly, like a river.

(Y/N) smiled. “I would be offended if you didn’t.”

Their lips met and, at first, it felt as if they began to float. Then, the spark. The same spark one only seemed to read out in romance novels or those trashy films Dean claimed to hate. A spark of love, adoration, passion, and lust. It was as if all the words left behind spoke loudly in that kiss. Everything they wanted to say, everything they wanted to hear, was translated into the movements of their lips.

When they broke away, they were breathless, faces flushed, pupils blown. Their mouths moved like they wanted to say something more, but it was lost in their need for one another. They had a silent understanding of what they desired. They kissed again feverishly and fell back onto the bed.

*~*

“Think they’ve been in there long enough?” Dean asked as he chewed on a mouthful of popcorn.

Sam tore his eyes away from the movie for a second to look at his watch. He shrugged. “It’s been almost an hour and a half. We can go see what happened.”

Dean nodded and used the sleeve of his flannel to wipe the butter from his lips. He paused the movie and both brothers stood.

“You remember the rules of the bet?” Dean asked as they made their way down the hallway.

“If (Y/N) confessed first, you owe me twenty, and if Cas confessed first, I owe you twenty.”

“And if they haven’t confessed yet, the bet is off until they do.”

“Do you really think they’ll do it if they’re forced to?”

“Do you have any other ideas?” Dean asked with raised brows. “The last two things we tried got us nowhere. We know they love each other, they just have to admit it. I think having some time alone together should do the trick.”

“Yeah, but we forced them into that situation. I don’t know about you, but that wouldn’t really put me in the romantic mood.”

“You just know I’m going to win the bet.”

“You’re delusional if you think Cas is going to confess first.”

“Come on, have you seen (Y/N) try and talk about his feelings? He can’t do it!”

“Neither can Cas! If anything, Cas is worse about feelings.”

“Look, all I’m saying is-”

“Oh, Cas!”

The brothers froze as their wide eyes shot towards the end of the hallway where (Y/N)’s door sat. It was silent as they waited to see if anything else would happen. When they heard nothing, they began to make their way to the door, slower that time. As they got closer, a rhythmic thump resounded inside the concrete walls, growing louder as they neared. When they were a couple of feet from the room, they stopped.

“Fuck, Cas! Harder, please!” The unmistakable moans rang out in the wall. Sam and Dean’s eyes grew wider.

“Say my name,” their friend’s voice was practically unrecognizable by the way it growled out the words.

“Castiel!”

(Y/N)’s loud cry was enough to break Sam and Dean out of their daze. Without a second thought, they turned and scurried down the hallway and out of range from the sounds that were sure to scar them for years to come.

*~*

As the sound of rapid footsteps resonated down the hallway and slowly vanished, a sly smirk fell upon (Y/N)’s lips. He glanced over at Castiel, who sat perched on some of the pillows, fully clothed. Once the footsteps were gone, (Y/N) seized the shaking of the headboard and took his spot next to Castiel on the bed. Castiel lifted his arm and (Y/N) was quick to snuggle against him.

“That should keep them away for a while,” (Y/N) hummed.

“Why was it necessary for them to believe we were having intercourse?” Castiel asked.

“Not only so they would leave us alone, but it’s the first part of the revenge plan I have in store for them for locking us in here.”

“You know, if they hadn’t locked us in here, then we would have never told each other how we felt.”

“Stop trying to justify their actions,” he grumbled.

Castiel smiled and pressed a soft kiss to (Y/N)’s temple. “I, for one, am thankful for their decision.”

“Don’t let them hear you say that, or you’ll never hear the end of it.”

“So I’ve come to notice.” Castiel chuckled.

(Y/N) copied his laugh as he wrapped an arm around Castiel’s torso and one leg around his to nuzzle closer. Castiel rested his cheek atop (Y/N)’s head.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” (Y/N) said with a content sigh.

Castiel reached down and softly pressed a kiss on his cheek. “The moments I spend with you make it seem like forever isn’t enough.”

136 notes · View notes

maybege · 1 year ago

Note

Can I request Hotch for 45, 138, and 266 for the prompts? ❤️

Thank you!! :)

Big Dick Energy: The Sequel's Sequel

Summary: Hotch grants the team an extra night in Vegas and as luck would have it, you have to share a room.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 10.3k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: explicit sexual content, dom!Hotch, sub!Reader, unprotected sex, dirty talk, choking, spitting, oral (m receiving), fingersucking, oral fixation, verbal degradation, cream pie, then some unexpected fluff

Prompts: #45 “I've never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly.” + #138 “Were you just masturbating?” + #266 “I dare you to fuck____.”

Thank you so much for requesting these wonderful prompts! I know it has taken me way too long (1,5 years) but hey better late than never. I am so happy with how it turned out. Please do reblog and comment and let me know what you think! Shoutout goes out to @galacticgraffiti for getting me back on my Criminal Minds shit.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

Sometimes miracles happen.

Like when that last little bit of coffee beans was enough for Rossi’s espresso and subsequently saved the entire office from having to endure his grumpy demeanour for the afternoon.

Or that time Spencer managed to fly his paper plane all across the BAU’s desks, only stopped by Chief Strauss walking in the line of fire.

Or when a case took you to Las Vegas and SSA Agent Hotchner agreed for you all to just stay a night longer. Like, in Vegas. For free. For work.

You knew the suggestion had been meant as a joke by Derek but as soon as Hotch had actually agreed to it, no one protested and you made the unilateral silent decision to just run with it. Who were you to look a gifted horse in the mouth?

Still, you knew you were all thinking the same thing.

“Drugs!” Penelope exclaimed in her room, colourful bracelets dangling from her wrist, “There is no other way. He is taking drugs.”

“I doubt Hotch is taking drugs, Penelope,” JJ said calmly, though she did not look quite as certain as one would assume. The blonde woman was sitting cross-legged on the large bed, shoes thrown somewhere in the corner. “After all these hard cases, I am sure he just wants to give us a reprieve from everything.”

“Hotch never gives us a reprieve,” Garcia gasped, sounding like she had just run a marathon only to find out there we still a few miles to go, “What if this is all an elaborate plan to have me be workplace inappropriate on the record and Strauss can finally order that evaluation that she has been holding over my head since the coffee incident?”

You smiled, amused at her nervous antics, and – to be honest – to keep you from defending him. Hotch had found a very soft spot in your heart. A spot too soft for a man that was supposed to be your boss and nothing but your boss. Though it had been a long time since he had been only your boss. Ever since the plane, ever since the changing room, you could not deny that there was tension between you two. And not the kind of tension where he looked like he would fire you at any moment. No, the kind of tension where he looked like he was about to reach under your skirt and check if you wore that lingerie he had bought for you (and fucked you in).

You had had the hope that after your latest encounter, you would have more chances to … well, to have Aaron Hotchner fuck you. But there was always something and when days had turned into weeks had turned into months, doubt started to creep in whether he actually wanted anything from you. Maybe he had just been out for a quick fuck and that was it?

And all of that did not get any easier with the fact that you were working together. That he was your boss. That your colleagues were the best profilers in the country.

So, you had to take great care in remaining as neutral about him as possible and part of that involved focusing more on the sheer panic that Garcia exuded when she was outside of her office rather than your desire to protect him from any doubts just because he wanted to do something nice for the team.

A glance at the woman on your right, leaning against the doorway, showed you that Emily Prentiss was thinking the exact same thing. “Are you sure this has to do with Hotch’s unusual behaviour or the fact that you feel uneasy in the field?”

“Alright, alright, maybe I am,” she pressed a hand to her chest, “A little nervous at being here but you cannot deny that this feels like a trap! You know how I get around Morgan when I’ve had a few drinks.”

“You don’t need drinks to act that way around him,” JJ interjected, “And I think that is what you are so worried about.”

“What if I do something I can never take back?” Garcia asked, despair and

“Well that depends on if you would even want to take it back,” Emily shrugged, “Because from where I stand there is nothing Derek wouldn’t want you to do to him.”

A hot pink pillow flew in her direction. “Hey!”

A knock on the door snapped you out of your conversation and you turned around to find none other than the man that plagued your dreams day and night standing in the doorway. He looked serious, his brows furrowed – with a bright pink pillow in his hands.

“I am sorry to interrupt what I am sure is a very riveting discussion,” your boss said, looking directly at you, “But we have a problem with the rooms. Could you come down to reception with me?”

“Uh,” you said, “Sure.”

You stepped out of the room. Your heart felt like it was moving up your throat and you cursed yourself for not having changed since coming back from the station. (As if Hotch ever paid attention to your outfits.)

Walking down the corridor, neither one of you said anything but as you waited for the elevator, his hand landed on the low of your back. It was a light touch, nothing to lose your mind over. But your breath hitched anyway, thinking of all the other ways he had touched you before. You glanced up at him, noticing how the corner of his lips quirked up just the slightest bit.

He had noticed!

You were not sure what weighed more. Your exasperation or your embarrassment at having been caught. But Hotch did not leave you because his hand guided you in the elevator. For a second, you wondered if he would press the emergency button like in the shows and press you against the wall and kiss you breathless.

He did not.

“What, uh, what is the problem?” you asked, finally feeling sure enough to speak.

“Extending everyone’s rooms for another night did not go as smoothly as possible,” he explained, his voice flat, “A few of us need to room together.”

“Oh,” you said, the wheels in your head turning. Because –

“Everybody else is already rooming together,” he said what you were thinking, “They have one other room available but I need your approval,” he paused for a second, “your consent.”

The hotel you stayed in was right by the strip, the ground floor a vast labyrinth of poker tables, arcade games and anything one could ever imagine being in a Vegas casino. As you passed the crowds of run-down partygoers, the smell of marijuana in the air, you could hear the rattling of the, the cheers of the winners and the groans of the losers.

Hotch’s hand did not leave your back.

It was reassuring in a way.

“Ah there you are again,” the lady said, sounding awfully cheerful at seeing him again. You shifted, trying to ignore the unpleasant pang in your chest area. If Hotch noticed her obvious attempt at flirting, he did not show it.

“I brought the colleague I would have to share the room with,” he stated, “Could you explain again what kind of room it would be?”

Have to, he said, have to.

There was a bitter taste in your mouth and you pressed your lips together.

“Like I said before,” she explained, “We only have one free room tonight. It’s a little further than the other rooms in your booking but it is a king so it might be big enough to share.”

“It just might be,“ he replied, stoic as ever when he turned to you, his thumb brushing over the small of your back, “I doubt we will spend much time sleeping anyway. What do you think?“

You were convinced he knew what he was doing. He wouldn’t be saying these things and touching you like this if he didn’t. And yet, he looked at you so coolly, so very unbothered, that a small voice in your head wondered whether you were imagining it all.

Aaron Hotchner, divorced father of one, your boss and the last man to make you come, was driving you absolutely crazy.

“I’m game,” you said, sounding way too chipper and high-pitched for your own taste, “It won’t be too bad, I’m sure.”

You tried to ignore the way your stomach threw somersaults when he gave you that little half-smile that made his eyes crinkle. And yet when you saw that twinkle you knew that yes, he knew exactly what he was doing.

Act normal. Act normal. Act fucking normal.

The hotel room you landed in was indeed almost at the other end of the hotel than your previous one, and quite a few floors up and your first thought at that revelation was that it would allow you to be as loud as you want without fear of your teammate hearing you.

How appropriate.

“Do you mind if I take the right side?”

You looked up, completely dumbfounded. Hotch stood by the bed already (and you tried your hardest not to think about what he would look like in that bed), his travel bag on the little armchair in the corner. It was kind of fitting, seeing how put together he looked even when he had the same 5 minutes to pack up his stuff as you did. But your travel bag was half-zipped closed, your clothes a wrinkled mess inside as you just threw everything inside in the hopes that it would survive the short journey until they could be unpacked again.

It was human, you knew, nothing out of the extraordinary. But next to Hotch who probably folded his underwear, you suddenly felt like you would never be able to reach him.

“Uh, no, not at all,” you murmured, walking to the side that was closer to the window. For a second you wondered if it hadn’t been about right or left but rather which side was closer to the door. But you shook that thought off as soon as it had appeared.

He didn’t say anything but started to unpack his things. Out of the corner of your eyes, you noted his neatly folded pyjamas (you could count the times you had seen him wear anything but a suit on one hand) and the little toiletry bag that was void of any water stains.

It was silent for a few moments as you sorted your own clothes, putting your crumpled-up pyjamas under your pillow, getting out your toiletries (one by one because that bag would look even more a mess next to his neatly organized one) and seeing what clothing items you had left that were not sweat- and/or blood-stained.

The selection was not the biggest.

In fact, it consisted of the clothes you were wearing now (only if you ) and a single pair of panties.

Great.

For a moment you contemplated enquiring about the hotel laundry service.

You knew the plan was to go out tonight and explore all the things the city had to offer (Reid mentioned a museum on the old gangsters of the city’s past but you had a sneaking suspicion that you would land in one bar or another). This was Vegas after all and you would be stupid not to take advantage of this unexpected vacation. But something about the thought of wearing your three-day-worn sweater in that heat made you hesitate.

Your phone dinged, finding a selfie with Garcia, JJ and Prentiss, all excitedly grinning into the camera.

Greatest Garcia: Let’s go shopping in Vegas! <3

And that is how your problem solved itself before it could really turn into a problem.

Dress shopping in Vegas made you feel like you were a different person altogether. Everything was full of glitter and soft fabrics and ideas of a life so different from your own. It gave you that little desire in the back of your head of wanting to play dress up, wanting to pretend to be a woman who was confident and sexy and could show up in bars and have heads turn towards her. You wanted

And so, it came that you put on the most revealing dress you had ever worn. It was incredibly short and incredibly glittery making you feel like you were “cosplaying a mirror ball” (Emily’s words, not yours). But not in a bad way.

On the contrary, when you had half of the BAU standing outside your changing room, whistling and cheering you on when you stepped outside, how could you not buy the dress that just barely covered your ass and was so very tight-fitting?

“You look stunning,” Garcia snapped her fingers, “You have to buy it! I don’t make the rules.”

Deep down you were not sure if the decision to buy the dress had been driven by your friends’ support or the few cocktails you had slurped during pre-game or perhaps the wishful thinking that a certain BAU chief would see you in this dress and decide to keep you in his bed all night long. Probably a little bit of everything.

You had been the first to find your dress which meant that you could spend the rest of the afternoon with your friends and watch them choose their outfits. JJ got a dark blue something that made her look absolutely gorgeous (Prentiss seemed to think so too if her appreciative over her (girl)friend’s figure was anything to go by) and Garcia found something that was even more colourful – something you had seriously doubted if it could be achieved.

By the end of the day, you were all sitting in the hotel lounge, shopping bags at your feet and cocktail glasses in your hands. You were the epitome of relaxation, the stress of the last few days finally wearing off you and you found yourself enjoying Garcia’s stories and Prentiss’ and JJ’s banter.

“Hey!”

You looked up, finding Reid standing at the edge of your little circle, looking as happy as ever to see you. Only he was not alone …

“Officer Greggs,” Prentiss was the first to speak, “What a surprise to you here. I thought for sure you were going to spend the day at the office today.”

Officer Greggs was on the police force you had assisted in your last case. He had led the case before your arrival and despite his age, had several people under his command. Rossi had described him as “surprisingly competent for a man his age” and Reid had bonded with him over his childhood in a city that was never really seen for its residential aspects. He was a nice man. Good-looking. Certainly your type if you had not been hopelessly in love with your boss.

“Yeah, we thought it might be a good idea to just let loose for the weekend,” the tall man explained, his hands in the pocket of his pants. He wore jeans and a green shirt, showing off the muscles in his arms. The way he said we let you know that it really hadn’t been his idea but that his colleagues had dragged him along.

Your lips quirked up. That reminded you of someone.

His dark eyes met yours in a light smile. “Who knows,” he said, smiling at you and no one else, “Maybe we see each other around.”

Seeing Aaron Hotchner step freshly out of the shower, wearing only his slacks and a white undershirt had your pussy clamping around nothing. You had not been prepared for this sight and it felt like an attack. It had to be.

His hair was a little damp still and you noticed he had shaved; his jaw was void of any stubble and it made you want to run your fingers along his jawline. He was looking down at something, a little furrow between his brows from concentration. You followed his gaze and regretted it instantly. His belt, you realized a little belatedly, he was fixing his belt. His veiny hands working with the buckles made you want to drop to your knees and beg him to take that belt off entirely.

He didn’t need it anyway. Not unless he wanted to tie you up.

You gulped.

When he looked up, his brows were furrowed still and you froze, afraid that if you moved it would betray how much you had been staring at him.

“What are you wearing?”

You could see his mouth move but you were not quite prepared to hear what he was actually saying. “What?”

“What are you wearing?” he asked, sounding like he was about to berate you in his office. You could not hide your frown.

You had literally just gotten ready, hurrying into your dress while he was safe inside the shower. And now he came out, looking like the half-god he was, and was criticizing your outfit?

The tinge of insecurity was overshadowed by a wave of frustration.

Was he really that displeased? Did he really have the audacity to talk to you like that? Had you been that wrong in your impression of him?

Your mouth was open, stinging words already on your tongue, but then he looked up again and you realized … you realized he was turned on. His eyes were dark and unmistakably roaming over the bare skin of your legs and cleavage and there was that tightness in his jaw that you knew showed his self-control.

Your words of protest died on your tongue and in a split second he was standing right in front of you. He smelled of hotel shower gel and his cologne. Your hand landed on his chest, feeling the heat of his body through the thin fabric. You realized you had never seen him undressed and the sudden desire to run your hands over his chest and under the hem of his shirt filled you.

“We are going out tonight,” you stated in a whisper, “And we, uh, we went out to get something fun.”

He hummed, an amused glint in his eyes you were once again struck by how much happier he looked when he smiled. “So, this is,” his hands landed on your hips, “fun?”

It would certainly be fun if he took that dress off you.

He seemed to think the same because his fingertips skimmed over the hem of your dress until they slipped under it, rough skin brushing over where your thighs met your ass. “It’s a shame I couldn’t buy you some more lingerie,” he noted, his voice deep and warm as his nose brushed against yours, “You would look stunning on this bed in nothing but the prettiest lace.”

“Or without it,” you added cheekily, rising onto your tiptoes so you could brush your lips over his.

He made a low sound in his agreement, the way his hands tightened on your ass letting you know just how much he liked that idea.

His lips touched yours, just briefly, just a peck as if to test the waters. But all it managed to do was break the dam of all the desire you had held back these past few weeks. You opened your mouth instantly and Hotch took over control, his mouth moving against yours, making you shiver.

“It’s been way too long,” you whined, tilting your head back when he kissed you. The tall man hummed, pulling you against him. Your hands wandered up to the back of his neck, feeling the softness of his hair there.

“Wanted to have you in my bed at least once between Idaho and now,” he confessed, his breath hot against your skin.

Your bodies were flush against each other. You could feel every single inch of him and it still was not enough. If you could just – and if he would just – fuck, you didn’t want to leave this room all night.

His belt buckle dug into your belly and you could feel his prominent erection through his slacks. You gasped, your fingers tightening on his hair and he growled, his hips snapping forward. The motion had you taking a step back and he followed immediately, not even the edge of the bed stopping him from urging closer to you.

And you did not want him to stop.

A knock on your door snapped you out of it. Hotch growled, his hands squeezing your ass and his teeth closing on your bottom lip. “Hotch,” you murmured, “Someone’s there.”

“If you’re quiet enough, they’ll leave,” he whispered hotly against you. His fingertips swiped over your panties and there was no mistaking how wet you already were. Hotch seemed to think so, too because when another knock came, his fingers hooked your panties to the side.

“Aaron,” you gasped, gently pulling away from him. That seemed to get to him because he took one long step away from you, your body instantly missing him. He looked just as affected as you felt. His hair was a mess, his lips looked so fucking kissable and there was the outline of his cock. The mere sight of it made you want to get on your knees.

But this was not the time and both of you knew it.

Another insistent knock at the door had you move as fast as lightning.

“Bathroom,” you brought out and Hotch nodded, looking like he was back to his no-nonsense self.

In a hurry, you pulled your dress down, rubbing your palm over your mouth and trying your best to look like you weren’t just the most turned-on you had been for weeks.

You opened the door with a flourish only to be faced with an impatient Penelope who took you in with wide eyes.

“Honey you are flowing!” she said, way too loudly, way too happy and way too –

“How many drinks have you had?” you asked, eyeing the half-empty cocktail glass in her hand. It had not one, not two but three colourful umbrellas in there.

“Oh, that doesn’t matter now when they’re so tasty,” she waved off, “What is more important is how you managed to look this good. It's unfair, really, here I am trying on dress after dress and do you know how many hairclips I went through to find the right one and then here you are, looking like,“ she gasped as if she had just had one of her genius ideas. Leaning forward conspiratorially, she stage-whispered, “Were you just masturbating?”

“Oh my god no,” you protested instantly, feeling the heat rise into your cheeks, “Why – why would you say something like that?”

“Cause you look like you just had the best time,” she wriggled her eyebrows, “And I speak from experience.”

“Garcia,” Hotch warned from somewhere behind you and you wondered how he had gotten himself in control on such short notice, “I don’t think that line of thought is appropriate.”

“Of course, sir, I apologize,” she didn’t miss a beat, her voice as happy as always. At least three drinks, you thought, this is no-inhibitions-Penelope. “Now are you two ready or not? I have got a hunk of a man waiting for me in the lobby and I won’t forgive either of you if we miss the first round.”

Vegas was everything everyone had always made it out to be.

Just much louder.

Much brighter.

Much more crowded.

The bright lights made the entire street seem like a theme park and you stared in wonder at all the hotels, casinos and bars and their very colourful neon advertisements. Reid was next to you, not paying attention to any of it, and you wondered how he, with all his peculiarities, experienced childhood in the city of sin.

“You would be surprised how much quieter it is if you just never go here.”

Your confusion must have translated onto your face because the young man grinned. “Everybody asks the same thing when they realize where I grew up,” he shrugged, “Figured I’d save you the trouble.”

Derek called him from up front. You noted with a smile that his arm was already around Penelope who gazed up at him with the love-dovey look she got around him. Reid followed his call, picking up his step to catch up with them and you smiled, watching as they laughed and bantered.

Hotch was next to you now, wearing slacks and a dark grey dress shirt. You didn’t even know he owned one. But now he was wearing it, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and it did things to you. Things you tried not to make too obvious because the night was young still and if you were already this wet you didn’t want to think of the state of your panties in a few hours.

“Have you ever been to Vegas?” you asked him instead, trying to sound as casual as possible.

His eyes reflected the colourful lights. “There were a few cases that took us here,” he confirmed, “Though we did not make it a habit to stay here longer.”

“Why now?” you pried.

His face turned towards you, the shining lights of the strip making his profile seem even sharper. Dark eyes met yours.

“I don’t know,” he said softly, his hand brushing against yours as you crossed the street, “It felt like we, like the team, needed some time to recharge.”

“Truth or dare?”

A glance around the group let you know that, much like in high school, there was really only one answer that would be accepted.

“Dare,” you decided, your heart pounding in your chest. Emily’s broad grin did not ease your discomfort.

“I dare you to fuck Officer Greggs over there,” she revealed, nodding to the man who stood at the bar, “He has been eyeing you all night.”

“Fuck him?” Morgan echoed, his arm still thrown around a very giddy Penelope, “Now that’s a lot to ask, isn’t it?”

“What? He’s a good-looking man,” Emily defended her choice, “And it’s obviously not about actually fucking him. It’s about seeing if she could.”

“If she wanted to,” JJ added with a determined nod, her faked sobriety betrayed by the way her eyes were already half-lidded and how her hands did most of the talking for her.

Rossi looked totally unimpressed if amused, and Hotch … Hotch looked just unimpressed.

A flash of excitement coursed through you at the possibility that he was maybe jealous.

“Alright,” you heard yourself say, taking a last sip from your glass, “Wish me luck.”

“In that dress, you don’t need luck,” Morgan joked and you laughed, feeling more and more confident. You turned sideways, trying to make your way out between Hotch’s and Garcia’s chairs. It was a tight fit and, sure, you could have taken the easier route. But you were buzzed enough to want to have Hotch close. And to see how he eyed you up close.

Which he did.

He was sitting in his chair, legs spread wider than normal and your eyes fell to his hand, laying on his thigh. Your knee bumped into his thigh and you could see his fingers twitch, the Rolex on his wrist glinting in the light.

You bit the inside of your cheek trying to get yourself to move. After all, you had a dare to fulfil. Or at least attempt to fulfil.

“Have fun!” JJ sing-songed behind you and you threw her a look that had everyone laughing. Except for Hotch.

The music was loud and the place was crowded. Much like the rest of the city on a Friday night. Yet, it did not take long for you to spot Officer Greggs. Probably because he wanted to be spotted.

He was standing at the bar with a few of his colleagues you recognized from work over the last few days. It was a direct line of sight from you to him and when he raised his glass to you, you knew he had been waiting for this moment for a while. This was your chance.

Walking towards him, you made sure your dress did not ride up too much and that your hips could sway from side to side without stumbling in your heels. Despite this dress making you feel different, you were still not the self-assured, flirty woman of your wishful thinking.

But you also did not need to be.

“I was wonderin’ how long it’d take you to come and chat me up,” Greggs teased you with a grin, his colleagues subtly moving away. Interesting, you noted, that his interest really did not seem to be a secret at all in his team.

“Are you telling me I am late?” you laughed, leaning onto the bar next to him.

The tall man looked you over, his eyes lingering on the hem of your dress and your cleavage. (Much like Hotch earlier, but you tried to ignore that thought.) “I would never,” he drawled, taking a big swallow from his beer, “You are right on time, of course. Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

He shifted on his feet, closer to you, and you noted how his arm fell down, his hand landing on your hip. His touch was soft and warm and not necessarily unwelcome. Here was an attractive, kind-hearted man that was clearly interested in you. And yet all you could think about was Hotch.

As if on their own accord, your eyes shifted back to the group. There wasn’t a direct line of sight, too many people waking to and from, but in the rare moments where you could, you caught glimpses of Hotch.

And he was looking directly at you.

“You okay?”

Gregg’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Yeah,” you said, forcing yourself to look at him and giving him a smile, “Sorry, just got distracted there for a second.”

Your words – as fake as they sounded to your ears – seemed to seem genuine for him. His lips pulled up in a broad smile and his hand got a little heavier on your hip. “I – I was actually hoping we would get a few moments alone today,” he said, getting even closer to you, “You’re quite intriguing if I do say so myself.”

His nose was almost touching yours which meant his mouth was almost touching yours and suddenly you had the question pop up in your head what the fuck you were doing here. You were not about to fuck Officer Greggs. Hell, you didn’t even want to. You wanted one man and one man only and if that did not work out then you at least wanted to spend the night with your colleagues having fun.

“I, uh, I’m gonna be right back,” you excused yourself, vaguely motioning to the direction of the bathroom, “Too many margaritas.”

He nodded, his eyes still fixed on your lips and you took a few steps backwards before turning around and hurrying through the crowd. Okay, here was the plan: Make your way to the bathroom, catch your breath for a few minutes, then return to the team and casually convince them to switch to another bar and enjoy the evening and not make your desire for Hotch too obvious.

You were almost by the bathroom when someone stepped right in front of you. For the first split second, you thought it was a mistake. Someone crossing your path and simply not seeing you. But when they did not move, their chest right against yours, you looked up, ready to be offended.

But the words died on your tongue because it was not just anyone. It was Hotch.

He was looming over you, brows pulled together, lips in a straight line, and he did not look happy in the slightest. His fists were clenched, the veins stood out and you shifted much like Greggs earlier. Only now you were turned on.

“You are not going to fuck Officer Greggs.”

You hadn’t planned on it.

But there was something in his eyes that was just too tempting to play with.

“I’m not?” you asked instead, playing innocent.

“No,” he took a step closer, “You’re not.”

Your chest heaved and his eyes landed on your chest. For just the briefest of seconds, you could see his tongue dart out, smoothing over his lower lip and you wished he would just kiss you. You gulped. Shit, why didn’t he just kiss you?

Instead, he leaned ever closer, his breath washing over your face just as the scent of his cologne.

“If you land in anyone’s bed tonight, it’s mine,” he murmured, his lips brushing over your ear and goosebumps erupting all over your skin. You knew he noticed when he ran a single finger down the back of your neck, his face lowering so his nose brushed over your neck. “If any man is going to fuck you, it is going to be me. Isn’t that right?”

You gasped, your heart racing in your chest.

“I asked you something,” he reminded you, his hand brushing over your ass, “Don’t you want to answer me?”

“Yes, sir,” the words tasted on your tongue like honey, “I – you’re right.”

“What am I right about?” he asked, “Be a good girl and use your words.”

Your eyes fluttered and you found yourself reaching out, your hand landing loosely on his hip. His belt. Before you knew what you were doing, one of your fingers hooked into his belt loops, tugging him closer.

“You’re the only one who gets to fuck me,” you breathed out.

“Good girl,” he said. And hearing him say it, his voice deep and satisfied, did things to you you would never ever admit when asked about. You squeezed your legs together, shuffling closer to him so your body was flush against his.

His hand cupped the back of your neck, his mouth brushing over your jaw. The dimmed light and the massive crowd kept you relatively sheltered but you were more than aware that your teammate – or Officer Greggs – could spot you at any moment.

And so, apparently, was Hotch.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your skin, “You are going outside. I will go to the team and say I saw you leaving with Greggs,” his voice dripped with venom at the other mas name, “And then I will excuse myself for the night. We will take a car back to the hotel and then I will fuck you so good the only word you can say is my name.”

Fuck, was this really happening?

“Understood?”

You nodded, swallowing heavily as you looked at him with wide eyes. He looked at you, dark eyes on yours and then he leant forward and kissed you. Hard.

His teeth clashed against yours, his tongue licking into your mouth and you felt hot and cold at the same time. Everything was tingling from your head to your tiptoes everything was screaming for him.

“I've never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly,” you admitted, completely out of breath, “Please, Hotch –“

“It’s Sir,” he corrected you sternly, “After I saw you flirting with that boy, it’s Sir.”

“Yes, Sir,” the words slipped off your tongue too easily, “Please, I –“

“Patience,” he warned you, dropping a small kiss to the spot under your ear. It was a gesture that filled you with affection but there was something about the way his eyes did not meet yours when he pulled away that let you know that kiss was not only for you. You turned your head, following his gaze, and found Officer Greggs staring at you. There was a shadow of disappointment on his face before he turned away, acting like he had not seen you at all.

Hotch’s hand on your neck slipped down to your back, sitting low enough that his fingers could fan out over your butt.

“Alright,” he muttered, “Let’s go.”

If anyone had ever told you, that you would be sitting on a bed in a hotel room in Las Vegas, wearing the shortest dress you ever owned and waiting for Hotch to join you, you would have declared them insane. But that was exactly what you were doing now. You had slipped off your heels, sitting cross-legged against the giant pillows as he had paced through the room, switching his phone off, locking the door and putting out the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the handle. It might have been mundane acts by themselves but there was something about how he did it all with such precision, like he was taking care of everything before he could take care of you and it turned you on more than it should.

Your encounters in the past had all been very spontaneous, announcing themselves minutes before something happened between you two. This was different. You had had a whole car and elevator ride before you reached the bed and even now there were things to take care of. You had been scared that maybe it would be awkward, that you did not have anything to talk about.

But you were proven wrong because while there was silence between the two of you, it was not the uncomfortable kind. He had always touched you, subtle but reassuring. Hotch had had his hand on your bare knee for the entire ride, his fingers steadily brushing circles into your skin while he made small talk with the driver like it was the most natural thing in the world. In the elevator his hand had found its place on your upper back, not as but seeing as your skin was not covered by the dress there, it felt much more intimate.

And now he had prepared everything so you would remain undisturbed for the entire night which excited you more than words could describe. But it also terrified you. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. Hotch stood at the end of the bed, his eyes mustering you up and down. You were so nervous, you did not dare to move a muscle.

This was happening, this was really happening.

“Come here,” he said softly. It was not an instruction but you followed it as one, crawling to the end of the bed until you were kneeling up. Your heart was racing in your chest, the slick between your legs too prominent to ignore. And Hotch was right in front of you, mustering you with serious eyes.

“Do you remember what I told you in the car?” he checked in, his finger holding your chin, “If you want to stop –“

“Tap your thigh three times,” you finished his sentence.

“And the safe word?”

“Iceberg.”

His lips quirked up in a pleased smile as he tilted your chin up.

“Good girl,” he leant forwards, his lips meeting yours and you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to lean completely into him.

His other hand cupped your cheek, keeping you in place as his teeth tugged on your bottom lip and you hasped, feeling a shudder run through your entire body.

You could not stop the whine that escaped you when he pulled away from you but a stern look from him had you silent again. Silent and very very horny.

“There are so many things I want to do to you,” he said, almost conversationally as he unbuttoned his shirt. Your eyes fixated on his hands and how big they looked on the tiny buttons. Aaron Hotchner was not a small man. He was broad in an unexpected kind of way, solid. Not as defined muscles as Morgan was or as lithe as Reid, no. Aaron Hotchner was a category of his own.

“Suck my cock under the desk, fuck you in that elevator, have you hump the corner of my desk till you come, the list goes on,” he continued while shrugging out of his dress shirt, leaving him only in the white undershirt, “haven’t really decided on one yet.”

You only noticed you were holding your breath when he approached you again. He tilted your head to the side, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, “Maybe we should try them all out. What do you say? Want to be a little whore for me?”

“God please yes,” you gasped, your lips brushing over the pad of his thumb. He hummed, his finger pressing further into your mouth and he did not even need to say anything for your lips to close around his digit, swirling your tongue around his thumb and sucking.

He hummed, pressing his thumb down on your tongue and you opened your mouth for him, trying to stick out your tongue so he could give you more. But he didn’t, instead pulling his thumb away, leaving a wet trail down to your chin where he gripped it.

“Not so fast,” he chuckled, his hands pulling you in again for a kiss. His mouth opened against yours and you opened yours for him, his tongue tangling with yours. He tasted of whiskey and that mint that Morgan had passed around. “We can go slow,” he said, his nose bumping against yours, “We have time.”

Something, some teeny tiny voice in your brain, piped up in doubt. You only have tonight to impress him, that voice squeaked, If you fail tonight, you will never have the chance again. Which was a ridiculous thought to have when he was towering over you, looking like he was about to devour you. And fuck, did you want to be devoured.

“First, I am going to have you suck my cock, I think,” he mused, “I feel like your mouth always needs something to suck on, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Sir,” you replied, shuffling off the bed. His hand left your chin slowly, his knuckles brushing down your cleavage and belly before his arm fell to his side.

You watched as he sat on the side of the bed and he did not even have to say anything for you to sink to your knees. The carpet was soft on your skin. Still, he held up his jacket in a silent offering, his eyes warm and soft. He was taking care of you.

When you shook your head, the soft look disappeared again as he nodded in understanding. The jacket landed on the end of the bed and when he looked at you again, his eyes were dark, staring directly into your soul.

Being looked at like that made your breath come quicker and your pussy wetter. Especially, when he spread his legs so all you could see, all you could focus on, was the bulge right in front of your face.

Like you said, Hotch wasn’t a small man by any means and there was something so sexy about him acting like he knew it. He knew he was big, he knew he was in charge and he knew what it did to you when he unzipped his pants and freed his cock.

“Patient,” he noted, clearly pleased, “Good girl.”

You smiled, his praise doing something with you. Something you were not ready to admit yet, even though it was already the running joke in the BAU that you wanted to impress him. (Not as your boss though, as most people presumed, but as the man that made you cry on his cock.)

“Here you go,” he said, his hand wrapped around his shaft and pumped it a few times. Drops of precome beaded at the tip, looking ready for you to lick them right off. If you focussed enough, you could already taste him. “Open wide.”

You did, opening your mouth as wide as you could, and sticking out your tongue. Hotch hummed, a deep sound from his chest. His tip landed on your tongue and you waited, frowning when he did not move. But then he did it again. And again.

He slapped his cock on your tongue a few times and you could feel the drool collecting on the tip of your tongue, threatening to trail down your chin. But you did not lose his gaze, did not move from your spot. Which was exactly what he wanted.

“Fuck, you’re good for me,” he breathed, “So fucking good for me, aren’t you?”

You nodded eagerly, his cock landing on your cheek instead. But Hotch didn’t seem to mind. His other hand found the back of your head, pulling you closer. You leaned forward as he wanted, closing your eyes when he lifted his cock onto your face. Heat rose into your cheeks when you realized what he was doing, his shaft measuring against your face. It made you feel filthy and a little embarrassed but also so incredibly turned on.

Your mouth was still open, your tongue and he was heavy against your face. You resisted the temptation to run your tongue along the underside. You wanted to be good for him.

“Go on,” he said, “Drool for me.”

With your mouth open and tongue out, it was impossible to make a sound and yet, you managed to produce the tiniest whimper. You could feel the drop forming before it landed on your chin trailing down before you could feel it between your tits.

You froze, wondering if it was enough for him, if you should wait a little longer, if you could wait a little longer before you were getting too desperate. His cock disappeared before finally pushing on your tongue and inside your mouth.

You took a deep breath then, noting how he already pushed himself to the back of your throat. His thrusts were slow and measured but also testing clearly your limits. There was nothing careful or shallow about his movements, like he knew exactly how much you could take, how much he wanted you to take. And you knew you would take however much he wanted from you.

He was heavy on your tongue and tasted salty. You managed to swallow around him once, your throat already protesting. You gagged around him, your eyes stinging with tears as you tried to regain your composure because damn you if you weren’t going to try your best.

Hotch paused his movements, his cock halfway down your throat. His brows were pulled together and he looked at you, clearly trying to see whether you wanted to take the chance to tap his thighs.

You relaxed your throat, making it a point to meet his gaze.

“Are those pretty tears for me?” he asked softly, his free hand brushing over your cheeks, “And I haven’t even fucked you properly yet.”

Fuck.

“You good?”

“Hngh,” you tried to nod, forcing yourself to swallow around him. He tilted his head back, a groan leaving his throat and you could see his jugular move. You swallowed around him again in a desperate attempt to see him lose composure like that again. His hips twitched, moving even farther inside you and you gagged. Hotch paused but did not pull away.

“You can take it,” he said sternly, “I know you can.”

You remained silent, trying to convey that you knew with your eyes. Your jaw was aching already and your pussy wept. His hips began to move more and more, his large hand on the back of your head pushing and pulling you this and that way. You relaxed, letting him use you like a toy (and why did that turn you on as much as it did?), occasionally running your tongue over the underside of his cock.

He was silent, not saying much but you could feel his eyes on you. You glanced upwards, finding him looking down at you, almost as if he was assessing you. Like he was determining whether you did a good job or not and that, embarrassing as it was, made you even wetter.

There was that furrow between his brows again and his lips were pressed tightly together. If you did not know any better, you would have suspected him to be displeased, but you did know better. Because his cock was twitching on your tongue and his chest rumbled.

You leant forward again, your nose almost touching his belly. Almost.

Frustration grew in you and you pulled away.

But before you could pull off completely, his hand on your head stopped you. “You can take me deeper,” he stated. It wasn’t a question but you knew he gave the pause to give the option to say no.

You did not say anything.

His hand pushed you down on his crotch, his cock reaching impossibly deep and you gagged. You did not pull away this time and he did not let you. Rather, you made an effort to breathe through your nose, to focus on the weight of him on your tongue.

Your hands twitched with the knowledge that you could tap his thigh anytime. Yet you chose not to. Your nose touched his belly, his cock too large to let you smile in triumph.

Then, his other hand reached around your front and he leant forward. At first, you thought he was cupping your jaw or something to try and get you to open wider. But his hand went lower. To your throat.

Your eyes widened in shock when his big hand closed around your throat, not cutting off any air but still tight enough to feel his pressure. And enough to feel the bulge he formed in your throat.

He groaned.

“I could jerk myself off just like that,” he commented, sounding way too unaffected for your liking, “And you would let me, wouldn’t you?”

You made a sound at the back of your throat, feeling the movement protest against the grip his hand had on you.

The power he held over you had you squeezing your thighs.

“I am not coming down your throat,” he said, his thumb rubbing over the tip of him, “Not this time.”

With that, he pulled away from you, his hand on the back of your head gently pulling you back. Immediately, you gasped for breath, trying to even your breathing while not taking your eyes off him.

Hotch stood up, a twinkle in his eyes when he undid the first few buttons of his shirt. “Get up on the bed,” he instructed, “Lose the clothes.”

At record speed, you slipped out of the dress and out of your underwear. Catching a glimpse of the wet patch on your panties, you forced yourself not to be ashamed of it. By now, it was a safe bet to assume that he knew the kind of effect he had on you.

The sheets felt cool and soft under your skin and you sat down and scooted back. Hotch eyed you like prey, your heart skipping a beat when you watched as he wrapped his hand around himself again, pumping while you got comfortable.

When your back settled against the pillows, he moved too.

“Good girl,” he murmured before leaning forward and climbing onto the bed.

You laid back, allowing him to come to rest above you. His breath fanned over your crotch and your belly, his lips ghosting over the valley between your breasts and up your throat until they met yours.

You hummed, trying to get up on your elbows to get closer to him. His lips were soft but dominant, his hand brushing over your cheek before settling right under your jaw.

The man above you sat up, straddling your hips. His hand was around your throat, loosely wrapped around and you smiled, already knowing what. You opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue and being rewarded by the dark smile on his lips.

“Such a good little whore,” he groaned before he spit right into your mouth, “Such a good little cocksleeve.”

Swallowing greedily, you opened your mouth again, showing him that nothing was left.

The feeling of his cock against your folds was what made your composure break. Pleasure was flowing through your every vein and you could feel your pussy pulse, feeling way too empty with him rubbing his tip over your clit.

“Sir, please,” you whined, trying to thrust your hips up, wanting to get just that little bit of friction more, “I – I need it.”

“Oh, I know exactly what it is that you need,” he stated when he slowly pushed forward, his cock splitting your walls, “You need me to work my cock in that tight pussy of yours and then fill you up until you are nothing but dripping in my come.”

You took a deep breath, relishing in the stretch he caused and the feelings of your walls opening up for him. And his words did the rest. You were so wet,

Angling up your knees, you wrapped your legs around his broad hips. It allowed him to push even deeper and you both moaned. Your thighs were already aching but your pussy fluttered around how full you were.

He began to move, slow at first before he found his bearings. His forearms caged in your head and he was right above you, surrounding you so completely while his cock pushed deeper and deeper. All you could see, all you could smell, all you could feel, was him.

“Yes, Sir,” you breathed, your fingertips running over his jaw, “Please come in me.”

“Good girl,” he chuckled, a little out of breath, his lips pressing against your temple, “Making such smart choices today.”

Not having the time to think about what he could possibly mean, you tilted your head back, allowing him to press a slow kiss to your neck. It was warm and wet and made your entire body shiver.

“Anytime you make a smart choice, I reward you, how does that sound?”

You could not answer, his cock hitting a spot inside you that made you see stars.

“Already too cockdumb for me, I see,” he murmured, his teeth scratching over your skin, “But that’s okay because this? This is a reward. You were such a smart girl today, not letting Greggs fuck you. Because you know only I can fuck you right, right?”

You whimpered, your hardened nipples brushing against the fabric of his shirt and you arched your back, trying to get him to be closer, deeper, faster.

His hips snapped against you, pinning yours to the mattress and you gasped at how deep he went. The weight of his body on yours meant you could not move, entirely at his mercy. Your walls clamped around him, the knot in your abdomen getting tighter and tighter with the feeling of his cock moving and his quiet groans in your ear.

“Next time you’re being a good girl for me, I will fill you up on the jet,” he hissed, “I will have you sit on my cock before we’re even in the air and you only get to come once we’re back on land. I don’t care what the others will think,” his fingers snuck to your clit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves just how you needed it, “Let’s hope it won’t be Alaska or I will have an overstimulated mess sobbing on my cock.”

You gasped, hands flexing on his shoulders. Images filled your head. Of you, wearing one of your cutest office dresses that had the perfect length to conceal how he was buried inside you. Or how he would just so casually reach over to your seat, between your thighs, working your clit until you left a wet mess on the leather seat. The thought turned you on more than it should, the urge to keep quiet so you would not get caught being fucked by your boss.

And Hotch could sense what you were thinking. “Looks like someone likes that idea,” he mocked you, “Your pussy practically choked me. Are you that desperate for the cock of an old man? Of your boss? You really just want to be filled up every chance you have, hm?”

You nodded, eyes tearing up at the sheer pleasure of it all.

“Yes, Sir,” you gasped out, trying to move your hips against him, though you knew it was an impossible feat, “Wanna – wanna be your whore so bad.”

“You already are,” he cooed, kissing you swiftly while his hips moved against yours again and again, “And you can be my good girl too if you come on my cock right now.”

Aaron Hotchner had to be a magician because there was no other explanation for how your body just listened to him. Every single muscle you were aware of tensed as the knot in your abdomen grew tighter and tighter before it felt like it was pulled apart, pleasure erupting everywhere. You buried your face in his neck, muffling your moan and breathing in his familiar scent.

Hotch did not slow his pace. His cock kept working in and out of you, driving you to the edge of madness. With you coming around him, you became even more aware of how big he was inside you. It was like he was pushing the air out of your lungs and you gasped, trying to gather your bearings when all you could feel was

He panted, his movements picking up in speed and you wrapped your legs tighter around him, pulling him inside you until he stilled. The deep groan he let out rumbled in his chest and you could feel it, feel it in the way he was pressed right up against you, feel it in the way his head sunk into the crook of your neck, feel it in the way, his entire body rested on yours.

There was something about feeling his come pump inside of you, feeling his cock twitch and feeling so full of him, that struck you with the sudden realization that you would really let this man do anything to you. The trust you had in him, in the way he would take care of you, would not be so easily broken.

Which meant your heart was that much more breakable.

Your body calmed down, feeling completely weightless even with him on top of you. Your eyes fluttered closed when you felt him shift, rolling you both around until you were on top of him. His cock was still inside you plugging you up and you smiled when you felt him draw lined over your back.

“That okay?” he asked, his voice deep and rumbly, “Do you need anything?”

You shook your head before resting your cheek on his chest. “Just this,” you murmured, “Just this please.”

“Good girl,” he praised you with a gentle smile, kissing the top of your head, “Rest, sweetheart. You deserve it.”

“What is it?” you shot up in bed, panic and adrenaline pumping through your blood. It took you a moment to remember that you were not supposed to be alone in this room and that the figure moving next to you was none other than Aaron. He was safe. He was supposed to be here.

Ears ringing, you threw a look on your side of the bed, trying to find if your phone was lit up because there was another case.

Please not, ran through our brain, Please let me have him this close just for a little longer.

But it was not your phone that was ringing.

“Shit, sorry,” you could hear Hotch rise in the dark, his body twisting the blanket this and that way as he leaned over to his night table. Something clattered and you could see a brightly lit display before it disappeared behind Hotch’s profile.

“Hey, buddy!”

You blinked.

“Yeah, we got the bad guy,” his voice was oddly soft, “Did Aunt Jess take to the – she did? That is awesome, you will have to tell me all about it.”

When you realized he was talking to his son (you tried to blame the very late/early time for this), your heart melted. The way his voice was deep and groggy but you could hear the love in it, the affection. There were only a handful of times you had heard him talk like that and they had all been when he was talking to or about Jack.

Before you knew it, he had hung up, his phone screen going dark and your body instantly yearning back for that deep slumber you had just been in.

“Sorry, I usually have it on loud to make sure I wake up. “ To make sure I don’t miss his calls.

“No worries, it’s … it's actually quite sweet,” you mumbled, glad for the darkness so he could not see just how affected you were.

“Sweet?” he echoed and you didn’t need to see him to know he was grinning, “I was expecting a lot of adjectives but not sweet.”

“It’s the dichotomy of man,” you replied groggily, very aware of the heat of his body right next to you, “Stern Hotch and Sweet Hotch.”

His hand found yours in the dark and your heart skipped a beat when he pulled it up to his lips. It felt way too intimate but it felt right. Maybe because it was dark it felt like you could allow yourself to enjoy the closeness. Like you could pretend you were living in some alternate universe where he was

“You’ve only seen stern Hotch, then, I presume,” he joked.

“Sexy Hotchner and stern Hotchner,” you added, pulling your hand back to your chest and thus his arm around you as you settled on your side, “Work Hotchner and Bed Hotchner.”

“Then maybe it is time you get to see Sweet Hotchner,” he murmured in your ear, his lips brushing over your shoulder. Your hand tightened around his and you snuggled back into him, thinking that any embarrassment that might ensue from this intimate embrace could be a problem for future you.

“How do I get to meet Sweet Hotchner?” you yawned, barely awake, “Do I have to ask Jack for some tips?”

“That or you could go on a date with me,” he said, his voice just as groggy, “I heard I am supposed to be my most charming self when on a date.”

Yup, definitely a problem for future you.

#may answers #maybege writes #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #smut

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ihavemanyhusbands · 5 months ago

Text

Wang Dang Atomic Tango

Also on AO3

Pairing: Escort!Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Courier!Fem!Reader

WC: 2.1k

Summary: James Garrett from the Atomic Wrangler sends you on a mission to find specific types of escorts for a few wealthy clients, and one of them happens to be a very handsome cowboy ghoul. Wouldn't hurt to give him a test ride first, right?

Warnings: MINORS DNI THIS FIC IS 18+, crossover (fallout tv show and fallout new vegas), canon divergence, formalized sex work (prostitution/escort), smut, unprotected p in v, radiated creampie (with implied radaway use), sex for favors kinda but not really, lighthearted degradation, cursing, sort of public sex, the ghoul being the ghoul, that's it I think but lmk if anything else!

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Since you’d gotten to Freeside, you figured earning a decent amount of caps would be a good idea before crossing over to the Strip. Not only because the Securitron at the northern gate demanded an absurd credit check of two thousand caps, but also because you’d need them for the casinos.

You’d been helping the King for a few days, staying nearby at the Atomic Wrangler. James Garrett was usually there in the evenings and you’d gotten to chatting a few times, though it mostly concerned business. He seemed more open to trusting you since you were in the King’s good graces, and he’d helped clear your name when some jobs didn’t go according to plan.

Once the King was done with your services, he rewarded you handsomely, but it was still not enough to cross over. Luckily for you, though, James already had you in mind for another job.

“How would you like to make some extra caps?” He’d said as soon as you’d sat down at the bar.

“I’m all ears,” you said, leaning forward on the counter.

“We’ve got a couple of unusual requests from our wealthier patrons… If you find me some suitable escorts to fulfill their needs, I’d be willing to pay you finder’s fees.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Alright… What sort of thing are they looking for?”

“Our wealthiest client has a thing for ghouls, and a thing for cowboys. He wants someone who can satisfy both fetishes.”

You hummed in thought, crossing your arms over your chest. “And just where do you suppose I’ll be finding someone like that?”

“Well, as it happens, you’re not the only new face around Freeside,” he said. “There’s been rumors of someone fitting that description. Why don’t you try to track him down first? Maybe you could make a deal with him. You’ve got a way with words, so it shouldn’t be too hard for you.”

You let out an amused huff and slid off the barstool. “If you say so. And how much would he be worth to you if I do find him?”

“Three hundred caps sound good to you?”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

You shook his hand and set off, trying to rack your brain on where to start. It was late afternoon, so it wasn’t as hot outside anymore. Still, you wiped your forehead with the back of your hand and placed your hat back on to shade your eyes.

You spoke to a couple of the nearby criers, sliding them a few caps in exchange for information. They pointed you in the direction of the old Fort in the eastern part of town, where the followers of the Apocalypse lived.

You made your way there, stopping to chat with a few of the guards. The Fort wasn’t very large, but still, the inhabitants milled about. You didn’t notice any ghouls among them, so you asked one of the guards if she had seen anyone like that around.

“Yes, he has been staying here, but he left this morning. Not sure where he went, but he usually comes back in the evenings,” she said. “No guarantee he’ll come back tonight, though. He usually takes all his stuff with him.”

You nodded and silently prayed to whoever was listening that he hadn’t decided to take off that same day.

“You don’t mind if I hang around for a while longer, do you?” You asked, unsure if there was a curfew.

She shrugged one shoulder. “Suit yourself. We’ve got a few extra cots if you need to stay the night.”

You lingered in the courtyard near the flag, keeping your eyes on the large double doors that led back out to Freeside. You tried to picture what he might look like, why someone would be attracted to that sort of thing. You considered yourself to be pretty open-minded, but you hadn’t yet tried a ghoul.

You weren’t even sure if he’d be interested in taking the job, but James hadn’t been lying about your skilled tongue and bartering prowess. Who knew? Maybe you could even make an arrangement with him on the side and see if he was worth all the fuss.

By the time the sun was gone and darkness had settled in, you saw the doors open once more, and he was unmistakable as he strode in. All that leather and swagger, his hat pulled low to obscure most of his face, shotgun casually slung behind his back.

He glanced in your direction as he passed and you immediately locked eyes. Something in your gaze was beguiling, immediately piquing his interest. One corner of your lips pulled up in a small smile, which he mirrored as he confidently approached.

He was strangely handsome, even without a nose, his allure undeniable. Taller than you and definitely sturdy underneath his tattered clothes. He seemed almost forbidden, and yet he was enticingly at your fingertips. It would be a sin to pass up on such an opportunity, right? Especially with someone like him.

“Howdy, cowboy,” you said, tipping your hat slightly.

“Howdy,” he drawled as he returned the gesture, his hazel eyes looking you up and down. “You seem like you’ve got somethin’ to tell me, lookin’ at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, you know.” His grin widened, roguish and charming at the same time.

You hummed noncommittally but still looked amused as you crossed your arms over your chest. “You heard of the Garrett twins? They own the Atomic Wrangler.”

“Hmm, a few things here and there. Been meanin’ to go check the place out.” He tilted his head to one side in curiosity, raising his hairless eyebrows. “Why? You work there?”

“No, just doing some stuff on the side for them,” you said. “Say, have you ever given any thought to doing some escort work?”

“Say what now?” He laughed, momentarily taken aback. “You know, sweetheart, I’m not usually the sort to do that kind of work… And besides, what sort of sicko would want to hire my services?”

“Oh, I could think of a few,” you said flirtaciously, pointedly holding his gaze. “There’s some wealthy patrons who’d pay really good money for your time. You’re their literal wet dream.”

“That so?” he mused, giving it some thought. “What’s the pay like?”

“You set your own price, and you get to choose your clients. You also get a pretty big discount on drinks.”

He let out a low whistle. “Well, if that ain’t a hell of a sweet deal. I think I might just take you up on it, for some time at least.”

“Glad to hear it. What’s your name?”

“Call me Cooper, sweetheart,” he said, extending a gloved hand for you to shake. “How about this? Since you’ve been so helpful, I figure the first time should be on me. You gotta make sure I’m up to par first, right?”

You couldn’t help the salacious grin that spread across your face, eyes glinting with mischief. He shifted his weight, his body angling closer to yours. You felt a tingle form in the base of your spine, already starting to understand the client’s proclivities.

“Oh yes, you’re right, I guess it couldn’t hurt…” you said teasingly, glancing around. “Got a place in mind?”

He looked off to one side as he thought about it, then he took your arm and nodded for you to follow him. He herded you to a dark corner behind the row of tents, far enough away that you wouldn’t be heard if you weren’t too loud.

While your vision adjusted to the darkness, your other senses were enhanced, a thrill dancing in your chest. You felt the heat emanating from his body as he pressed close to you, almost making you shiver feverishly. Your breathing hitched as he grasped your face with a gloved hand, looking down at you appraisingly.

“I usually try to cut to the chase, but these lips of yours… they’re really tempting me to kiss ‘em,” he rasped, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

“I’m not gonna stop you,” you said. “In fact, I highly encourage it.”

He chuckled, the fan of his breath close to your mouth. “Ain’t gotta tell me twice.”

And with that, he kissed you. His mouth immediately dominated yours hungrily, a small surprised gasp in your throat. His tongue dragged over yours, making your head spin. Had you ever been kissed like that? You couldn’t recall, but all your senses were alight as if for the first time.

You clung to him, your original mission flying out of your mind. Suddenly, he spun you around and pressed your front against the rough stone wall of the barricade. He kissed your neck as he grasped your hips, tugging up the hem of the field dress you’d decided to wear that day.

“Easy access,” he chuckled against your skin, his tongue gently tracing the shell of your ear. “You didn’t plan that, did you?”

“Um…” you stammered, your face heating up.

“Naughty, naughty,” he said, clicking his tongue in mock disapproval. “Oughta teach you a lesson, don’t’cha think?”

That sent a pulse straight to your cunt, and you sucked in a breath. “S-sure, maybe I’ll learn it eventually.”

He flipped the hem over your ass, humming in approval as he took in the sight of it. You heard the flick of a pocket knife opening, and felt the edge of your panties being tugged.

“We won’t be needing these,” he drawled, and with a quick flick of the knife, he cut them loose and let them fall to the ground. “There we go, that’s what I like to see.”

You glanced at him over your shoulder, catching him licking his lips. He tugged one of his gloves off with his teeth and tucked it in his back pocket. His calloused hand traced over the swell of your ass and you unconsciously pushed your hips back, needy for more.

He chuckled, amused and delighted by this. “So you really are one of ‘em sickos, huh? I knew it from the moment we looked at each other.”

“Are you complaining?”

“No,” he said, his fingers dangerously close to your cunt, teasing you to no end. “I’m merely makin’ an observation.”

You gasped as his fingers parted you, sliding through your folds with almost embarrassing ease. There was a growl low in his throat that told you he really liked this discovery. He teased your clit with slow circles, wanting to see what sounds he could elicit from you. Your hips shifted up and down as you bit your lip to keep them in.

You heard the slow drag of a zipper being undone, followed by the clink of a belt and the rustling of clothes. Your spine tensed with anticipation your breaths coming out in short pants. He reached around and had you spit in his hand, spreading your saliva over the length of his cock.

“You ready for me?” He asked, dragging the head of his cock up and down your slippery pussy.

You nodded with a small whimper. He lined himself up with your entrance and pushed in slowly, making sure you felt every inch. He pulled your head back by the hair and tugged you down by the hip with his free hand, making you meet his shallow thrusts.

“Oh… Oh. You’re–”

“A little big?” He chuckled. “It’s alright, you’re takin’ it like a champ.”

Your cheek was pressed against the stone as his hips rutted up into you more sharply, his harsh breath near your ear. Waves of pain and pleasure from the stretch spread across your whole body, overwhelming your senses. It was getting harder and harder to think clearly, so you let yourself just be carried away.

He let go of your hair and reached around to play with your clit, making you short-circuit. Your body tensed with each drag of his fingers, your cunt clenching tight around him. He groaned and murmured encouragements like that’s it and come on, I know you’re close.

And he wasn’t wrong. White heat flickered through you as you came undone, muffling your cries by biting your fist. He worked you through it, his movements turning sloppy as he too reached the edge and tumbled off of it. Hips grinding against your ass to make sure no drop of his spill was wasted.

You were glad you’d thought to stock up on RadAway, not having to worry about things like this. You already knew you’d be paying him another visit once he’d started working. Once you’d sobered up a little, you looked at him from over your shoulder.

“Phew, yeah, they’re definitely gonna like you,” you said, your heart still racing in your chest, a dopey smile on your face. “Worth every damn cap, I’d say.”

He grinned, breathing hard. “You get a special price, darlin’. I reckon you might just become my favorite client.”

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

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout fanfiction #fallout new vegas fanfiction #the ghoul x you #cooper howard x you #the ghoul smut #cooper howard smut #minors dni #cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout tv show

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emilyscully · 11 months ago

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gif tutorial

@bakedbakermom requested a tutorial on how i made the gifs in this set, so i've put together a little walkthrough of the process for this gif under the cut!

(disclaimer: this tutorial assumes that you already have basic photoshop/giffing knowledge - i.e. how to make and colour gifs using correction layers, how to use things like layer masks, etc. if you don't, i recommend these tutorials, they're very comprehensive)

alright! so as stated before, i'm not going to go in-depth here on the basics of gifmaking. for this one in particular, i blended three gifs, but we'll get into the third one later.

(i should also mention that blending gifs as i did here is usually easier if you have scenes with shadowed/dark areas like the ones above, so to keep that in mind when picking your scenes! i also find it easier to use scenes where there isn't a whole ton of movement going on- again, not a requirement but it's easier to plan and position gifs if the characters aren't moving across the whole canvas)

first, i started by making the base gifs of mulder and scully in "paper hearts". both are cropped to 540x540 px, and the same length (around 50 frames). i did some standard sharpening, brightening, and adding contrast (my usual process is curves, a b/w gradient map set to "soft light" at around 20% opacity, and messing with the levels a bit) before using selective colour and hue/saturation layers to highlight the teal and peach colours in the gif. sometimes this is enough colouring on its own, depending on the gif and the look you're going for, but in my case i wanted to add more.

so, on top of my colouring, i used a combination of layers set to "colour" and "hard light" to paint over the background of my gifs in teal and peach. on mulder's gif i also used a gradient fill layer in the two colours set to "colour" and used a layer mask to erase anywhere i didn't want the colour to be. the opacity levels for all of these layers again just depends on how vibrant you want your colours, i just mess with that on a gif-to-gif basis.

so we have our two gifs, cropped and coloured to fit the palette we want. next, i converted each coloured gif into a smart object, by selecting all my layers, right clicking, and hitting "convert to smart object."

once that's done, you should be able to click and drag one of the gifs onto the other gif's canvas, so that it's sitting on top. then change the blending mode of the top gif- most people use lighten or screen, this again depends on the look you want and the gifs you're using. for this one, i used screen. it'll probably look something like this:

at this point you can move your gifs around and position them as you like. for mine, i just moved scully a little off to the right, as you can see. in order to get rid of the part that's covering mulder's face, i added a layer mask to the scully gif and used a large, soft brush set to black to erase it.

(another note: i didn't need to do it here, but if you want to move/erase parts of your bottom gif, add a layer of solid black underneath both gifs.)

usually i would stop blending here, but for this set i decided to add a third gif, so i made and coloured the gif of mulder and scully holding hands, using the same methods as the first two. this one was cropped to 540x405 px to make it fit better on the canvas, since i knew i only wanted it to cover the bottom part.

i converted it to a smart object and dragged it onto the same canvas as the other two gifs. this time i used "lighten" as my blending mode, positioned it in the bottom right corner, and again used a layer mask to brush away the parts i didn't want.

on top of all three gifs, i then used layers set to "normal" and "hard light" to brush some extra colour onto the gif. this part i also just play around with on a gif-to-gif basis, but for this set i mostly used a combo of colour, hard light, and normal layers at varying opacities until i got the look i was going for. i generally just like to use big soft brushes to add colour around the edges, as i did here.

now, i have a bunch of texture/grain pngs saved on my laptop that i like to add to gifs for some extra flair, so i opened one of those and cropped it down to 540x540px. i then added a gradient map to give it that peach colour. (any textured png/jpg should work fine for this, as long as you have your gradient map set to black and white/your accent colour)

like i did with my gifs, i converted the texture + gradient map to a smart object and dragged it onto the shared canvas. i set the blending mode to "screen", with the opacity at 70%. i like to put these textures underneath the extra colouring i've done on the gif, as seen here. i don't always do this, but i feel like it sometimes helps the texture blend into the finished gif. you can also use a layer mask if needed to erase any unwanted parts of the texture.

now for the text!

for these gifs i used the font "IM FELL DW Pica" in both regular and italic, in black, at 16px. i didn't do anything fancy with the text itself besides adding a drop shadow in the blending options (right click on the text layer and hit "blending options).

then, underneath the text layer (i was working one word at a time) i used the rectangle tool to draw a small rectangle around the text- i wasn't too picky about the size or evenness since i was going for a collaged look. i set the colour of the rectangle to a light cream colour, and added a drop shadow in the blending options.

then i just selected both the text and rectangle and duplicated them using ctrl+j, changing the text for each word and adjusting the size of the rectangles as needed. once i had all of the words on my canvas, i just moved them around until i found a positioning i liked. again, since i was going for a purposefully scrapbooked look, i didn't overthink this part.

i exported my gif the way i usually do, with these settings:

and that's it! i used pretty much the same process for all the gifs in this set, give or take. hopefully this little walkthrough made sense, but i know i'm not always the best at explaining my process, so if anything needs clarifying feel free to shoot me an ask or dm!

#lily talks #gif tutorial

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minniethemoocherda · 3 months ago

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Iridescent: Chapter 24

A/N: Less than a month to Transformers One! Also so excited to hear whatever Studio Trigger is working on! Xxxxxx

Ao3

FF.net

Prowl had walked onto battlefields with a more than 99% chance of failure.

There was no reason for him to feel that same sense of dread going to visit his sister.

Yet as Prowl opened the doors to the makeshift med-bay, the energon pulsing through his spark felt as stodgy as the tar-like substance the twins called moonshine, clogging up his arteries and threatening to choke the flow to his veins.

Inside he could see that Bluestreaker was sat up in her berth, a serious state of determination on her face as shaky servos added extra details to the Happy Upgrade Day Poster that she had previously made in what felt like vorns ago.

Sunstreaker was sat by Bluestreak's side while Sideswipe was beside Bumblebee. The twins made themselves scarce when they saw Prowl presence and Bumblebee tactfully decided to feign being asleep.

When Bluestreak noticed him heading her way, that serious scowl quickly slipped away into her signature sunny smile. For once that smile was unable to lift his soul as for the first time, Prowl was able to take in the sight of her injuries in person.

The metal of her skin was still singed black, the windows of her wings were shattered and whilst she tried to shift herself to hide it, welding scars were still visibly seared into her back.

"I’m sorry." Prowl said.

Bluestreak looked at him as though he had just told her he wanted to quit his job as a tactician and become a pole dancer.

"Why?" She asked. In the tilt of her head, Prowl saw the youngling he cradled in the ruins of Praxus and for the first time since that day he felt tears prick the corner of his eyes.

"Because I made a promise that I would protect you.” He closed his optics, trying to force those tears from falling. But all he could see behind his closed eyes was the lifeless look of her body. “I failed you.”

Prowl felt a hand close over his balled fist. He looked up to see bright blue eyes gazing at him with love and admiration that he felt he did not deserve.

"You did the right thing Prowl. I can't hate you for that." Bluestreak smiled. "You are the reason three lives were saved instead of two. If you'd tried to save me instead then Ratchet would be dead and who knows how many people would have died because of that. And don’t even think about trying to work it out!” She scolded, pointing a shaking finger at him.

Prowl couldn't deny the logic in her statement, nor could he deny how her eternal endeavour to look on the bright side, brought light into his own life.

Suddenly all the anger he’d been stabbing at himself, redirected in brain towards Silverstreak for attempting to snuff out that ray of light.

Prowl could not understand the logic of why a Praxian would betray them to the faction that nearly annihilated their race. But then again, Prowl had found that logic rarely dictated any of the Decepticons actions. And when they had obliterated Praxus, the entire Deception faction had been too large a concept for Prowl's brain module to focus the entirety of his hatred towards, especially when he had more than enough reasons to hate them already. Now all of Prowl’s laser focused anger was directed at one singularity, Silverstreak. And he would not rest until she was brought to justice. Which in Prowl's mind equalled death, regardless of what the Prime's stance would be on the matter.

Prowl was distracted by his thoughts as Bluestreak tried to stifle a yawn.

"I will let you rest." As Prowl stood up to go, the hand over his wrist refused to let go.

"Wait!" Bluestreak cried, looking every bit like the child who once was unable to sleep without nightmares. "Stay with me? Please? For a little while. Just until I fall asleep." Unable to refuse her request, Prowl nodded, sitting by her side until her breath evened out and her hand went limp.

When Prowl finally left the med-bay, before he could give himself time to think about it, he opened up a private comm.

"Hey Prowler. What's up?"

Prowl was unsure what to say. He had not been in this position to request such a thing before. He did not know how to request what he was asking for. Thankfully, Jazz understood what he was unable to find the words for.

"I'll be there in five minutes."

For once Jazz was actually on time as five minutes later, when Prowl arrived back at his quarters, the spy was waiting outside the door. Neither said a word until they were both inside and Prowl closed the door.

"Bluestreak forgave me." He told him.

"She's your sister." Jazz stated as though that was supposed to explain everything. Hands that Prowl knew had killed hundreds, potentially even thousands gently cupped his face. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

Then Jazz's lips were on his and they didn't talk for the rest of the night.

#transformers #jazzprowl #jazz #prowl #bumblebee #bluestreak #sunstreaker #sideswipe #prowljazz #transformers jazz #transformers prowl #tf jazz #tf prowl #jazz x prowl #silverstreak

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lunatic-pudge · 8 months ago

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Postal Dude 1 with a Rich Reader (Requested by menethusiast900069)

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Requests from my Archive account, slight NSFW at the end of the PD1 request. I could't help myself >:)

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-Honestly, how you two got together is beyond me. How the hell is this sad wet cat man pulling a rich baddie like you? And more importantly, how do I do the same? Dude needs to tell me his secrets to getting a Sugar Mommy

-But good lord, is he getting spoiled. He'd be so overwhelmed by it at first. Being doted on and cared for by someone is something he isn't used to. He does love the affection you give him. It helps ground him. Helps remind him that even though the world is full of scum, there's at least one person worth loving

-What really shocked him is how you were so willing to spend money on him

-Like when you'd spend money to fix up his trailer. Fixing up the damage that happened from Dude's bout of anger or from other accidents. Getting him new furniture. Making his home practically look brand spanking new.

-It was a slow process though. Poor thing felt so bad that you'd spend so much on him. He didn't have money like that to throw around so he couldn't spoil you like how you'd spoil him. He'd try to beg you to save your money and how he isn't worth it. Well, those pleas fell on deaf ears. Baby doesn't realize how special he is

-Imagine buying him exclusive merch from him favorite bands, getting VIP passes to meet and greets, he'd be so happy, especially since you are doing all of these kind things for him. He just loves you so much

-He'd be willing to pay back such grand gestures with some more.. sexual favors. He'd gladly lay you down on his bed and spoil the hell out of you.

-He could eat you out for HOURS. Once he gets a taste of you, he won't be able to stop. Sucking, licking, fingering, he will end up overstimulating you but it just feels so damn good

-And they way he'd be caressing every part of you those large hands of his can reach? His touch is so gentle, almost ghostlike in nature. He treats you like you're made of glass

-Your pleasure will always come first. He could care less about himself in the moment. You're always doing so much for him. It'd be cruel of him to not return the favor in some way. Please let him do this for you. He'll feel so bad for not being able to return such kind gestures of yours <3

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Postal Dude 3 with an Insecure Reader (Requested by Benatar_My_Bethroed)

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-You? Insecure? Not on this man's watch.

-Dude isn't someone who's insecure, far from it. He's a baddie and he knows it. And when he looks at you, all he see is perfection. So why do you feel this way about yourself? He just doesn't understand

-You'll have to bear with him. Sit him down, talk to tell. Be blunt. Be honest about everything. Don't hide anything. He likes full transparency, even if he isn't good at it sometimes

-It'll take some time for his dense ass to comprehend, but he will do whatever he can to help make you feel better

-Is always down to give you physical affection. He loves being able to hold you, and love all over you. If you're insecure about a specific part of your body, he'll make sure to pay extra attention to it. Kissing, caressing, and loving all over said areas.

-He is alright with words. He's never been good with expressing his love for you. But that won't stop him from trying. He'd probably say something so goofy, so corny, that it would make you laugh at him

-But hey, he'd rather you be smiling and laughing, then frowning and sulking. If he needs to distract you with him being a goober, then he will. He'll do whatever he needs to so he can see you smile. He'd even kill a person for you

#postal #postal dude #postal dude x reader

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writteninlunarlight-years · 7 months ago

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hiii :) I'm requesting a marauders match up plz <3

Gender: female

Pronouns: she/her

Sexuality: demi-sexual/pan-romantic

Appearance: white, dirty blonde hair that's just past the shoulders and messy/wavy, glasses, green eyes, plus size (large belly and butt), I have two cartilage piercings and usually wear fun, colorful earrings and rings.

(MBTI &/or Engram if you would like to take the tests and add it): when I took the test, I got a 9, but my therapist told me I'm a 4 (do with that what you will)

Personality: big platonic lover - love telling friends I love them, but I'm pretty shy with romantic/sexual attraction. I'm loud when I start to feel comfortable in social situations, I'm very anxious about how others perceive me and I like to be prepared for anything (e.g. I always have band-aids, safety pins, allergy medicine, tums, etc.)

Likes (at least like three things): hanging out outside when the temperature is like the perfect fall crisp (kind cold, but not quite) - extra points if there's a fire pit; hosting a party to get all of my friends together; feeling cared for; putting together legos/puzzles; card games; laughing

Dislikes (at least three things): olives; when it's too hot outside (like 75+F); people who are passive aggressive/can't hold space for others

Extra fun fact (this is about whoever you are describing to me): I have, on multiple occasions, flown across the country or driven 6+ hours to surprise my friends/family.

thank you so much <3<3<3

(ps. If you match me with Peter, I will trust your instincts, but I will also cry thank you)

~~~~~ MATCHUP ~~~~~

Marauders Era

Regulus Balck

~~~~~ HEADCANON ~~~~~

He is a quiet man himself. He noticed you hanging out with his younger brother's friends, and something about your warmth melted his icy heart.

He loves how you care for his brother in a way he can't.

He admires your beauty from afar and asks his brother when they talk about you often.

After Sirius left their home to live with James, he bucked up the courage to talk to you.

He knew it was a risk, but your light was so warm that he couldn't bear to miss out on you.

He was terrified of any physical contact for a while.

He always asks for permission before he does anything to you out of fear you will abandon him.

One night, he snuck into the Gryffindor common room with all of you and sat around the fire with everyone, actually smiling and laughing for once.

That same night, you two shared your first kiss.

Sirius thanks you every day for saving his brother.

As Regulus's seventh year approached, he became much more withdrawn and cold to you.

When you found out his family forced him to be a death eater, you stayed by his side in secret, only meeting occasionally and traveling far distances to avoid the eyes of the others on you.

~~~~~ BLURB ~~~~~

You were sitting near the black lake, where a fresh blanket of snow had just fallen the night before. You knew if Regulus was going anywhere after an altercation with his family, it would be out here. Earlier in the day, you heard in the great hall as a Howler from the black family ripped into Regulus; ever since Sirius left, the abuse had only gotten worse on the older sibling. Not too long after the letter chewed itself up, you saw Bellatrix talking to her cousin, and it probably was nothing good. As you were trapped in your thoughts, you failed to notice the presence standing next to you by the water. He cleared his throat, and you turned to look at him. He seemed reasonably okay, but just because the scars weren't visible didn't mean the hidden ones weren't deep.

You smiled at the man and held your hand out; he looked at it before slowly taking your hand, allowing you to lead him wherever you intended to. As you two made it over to the tree line, you pulled out a blanket from your bag and made a somewhat cozy spot to sit until the snow melted through the thick layer. Regulus sat down beside you, looking out on the lake again. You sighed, " I heard what happened; how are you holding up." Regulus shrugged, "As good as I can, now that Sirius is safe out of the house, I am the new target of all problems for the black family." You nodded solemnly as you took in his words. Trying to think quickly on your feet to fix the situation and bring Regulus at least to his default bored expression, you came up with the perfect plan. You stood up and extended your hand out to the boy.

He took your hand once more, trusting you to guide him. You remembered that the boys and Lily planned to go to the three broomsticks today to relax. Nothing made Regulus more happy than seeing you and his brother happy. Leading the way, you soon entered the establishment. As if almost on queue, the group excitedly shouted to the older boy, smiling, waving him over. You could feel Regulus warming up; something about finally belonging always made him happier. As you enjoyed your drinks and games, you noticed your partner relaxing and forgetting all the hateful stuff his family had said. Who could ask for more than to see your partner happy to be alive?

~~~~~ EXTRA ~~~~~

(Regulus and you were sitting at a park swinging on the playground, watching as a storm rolled in.)

Y/N: Do you ever think muggles who believe witches melt in water also believe that all magic folk can do is cast curses.

Regulus: They probably also think we are green with warts.

Y/N: We dork, but they obviously only think magic folk are women. Have you seen all their plays and shows?

Regulus: With these gorgeous locks, I could definitely pass.

Y/N: Maybe we should test their theory by staying out in the rain and seeing if we dissolve.

Regulus: Honey, all you will accomplish is get a cold again.

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #x reader #marauders x reader #match up #regulus black #regulus black x reader #maurders era #the marauders #head canon #headcanon #gryffindor #hufflepuff #slytherin #ravenclaw

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feyofmay · 1 year ago

Note

Hello!! I absolutely love your writing and was so excited to see your requests are open!! 💛 I was wondering if i could request a platonic amy march x reader (gn or fem is absolutely fine) with the prompt "i missed you so much". i was imagine maybe reader had been travelling for a while or just hadn't been spending much time with amy recently, and they both miss eachother alot and just have a fluffy reunion! though of course feel free to go whichever direction inspiration takes you!!!! (i also don't mind whether its just best friends or reader and amy are siblings, though i am very biased to the latter)

Even if you don't end up writing this, thank you so much for the things you have written because I'm absolutely in love with them!!!! and of course an extra big thank you if you do write this!!!!

— aubrey!! (@yokolesbianism/aubeystawby) 💛💛

AWWW tysm!! Literally you’re the sweetest & it warms my tiny little heart!! Of course I will write your little request, but I made it a little different. (for flavor ;0)

Word Count: ~800

(not edited, so there’s some grammatical errors. sorry not sorry)

The ache of the youth spent in the twisting thorns of blackberries & dashing madly down dusty paths like deer fleeing from the maw of a greater beast is not felt until, when waking up one morning, her bones are stiff & wooden. As if, if she were to bend her elbow, she could hear a creaking sound from the rusty nail between her two joints. Ever since Amy had left for France to pursue her dream of becoming a great artist,- one who, in her triumphant cries, “would rival Renoir and Boticelli and Thomas Lawrence!”- y/n, the youngest March, has awoken to the splintering ache of an accosted youth.

To say she misses her sisters is an understatement to the highest degree. Everything is far too quiet without the constant chirping of her sisters, a never ending symphony of adolescent conundrums & complaints. Once an eternal twilight, with her sisters playing the role of singing cicadas, the morning had risen with their departure from the best. Several things, which she previously thought were silent, have now shed their fear, & the appliances remind her of her creaking bones with their squeals & whines. The only thing that ever eased her mind was Beth’s piano, a reminder that, although her sisters have grown, she still remains young & a girl.

However, one early morning, the noise of chittering like field mice in a barn snuck in from underneath her door. Like a puppet, her wooden bones acted in the same order that they always have. Planting her feet on the ground, she threw her- well, it was first Marmee’s, then Meg’s, and then Jo found it far too “girlish”, so it was lastly Amy’s- shawl, a soft blue & green woolen piece, to keep herself from freezing in the morning sun.

“Marmee! What’s with all the clamor?” Y/N shouts out as she rubs the last grains of dreams quickly forgotten, a gift from Sandman in the night. Their voice is scratchy like an itchy wool scary as they waddle toward their door. Before Marmee can even consider replying, a shrill squeal fills the house.

“Sister! How I’ve missed you!” the shriek makes the wallpaper curl into itself, & the pounding noise of, what can only be assumed to be, heavy iron weights plummeting onto their creaking wooden stairs grows closer & closer to the half-awake Y/N. Immediately recognizing that voice before she can even register the smell of fresh air streaming in from her open window or the sticky feeling of morning dew on her face, Y/N snatches the door knob & swings it open wildly with reckless abandon.

There, standing before her, in a voluminous, almost cartoonishly large crinoline skirt with tiers upon tiers of ruffles & lace-trimming in differing shades of porcelain blue & silver, her sister & part of her soul, Amy, stands before her like a statue carved from marble & opal. With a toothy grin that reminds Y/N of all the long summer days spent rolling around in the vibrant green grass by the meadow, Any doesn’t waste a second as she barrels towards Y/N & catapults her arms around her little sister, who is unsure if she’s simply still dreaming or actually awake.

“Oh, how I’ve missed you! I’ve missed you so so dearly! All I could think of was how I wished you were beside me. Oh, I’ve so much to tell you! ” Amy rambles on as she digs her face into the nest of locks that rests upon her sister’s head like a rabbit burying into fresh earthen dirt. Curling her fingers around the poofy & seemingly floating sleeves that hug Amy’s sleeves in ways Y/N didn’t know was even possible, the cool touch of the soft, buttery linen kisses her fingers like a distant memory of childhood that’s been lost to the breeze. The fabric leaves a tingling sensation that reminds her of the bells that decorate the Church during Christmas time.

As the folds of linen ripple between her fingers, it’s then she finally feels her mind recenter. The colors around her bloom like the first day of spring, & everything falls into focus. Amy is back. She is real & home & here, in her arms. Slowly, Y/N tepidly wraps her arms around her sister & presses her face into the fabric of her dress. Something hot dribbles down her cheeks, & her silent tears collapse into Amy’s dress. The rust melts off of her joints as she feels her youth soak back into her bones. Her sister, her person, is home.

“I missed you, as well, sister.”

#little women 2019 #little women #little women fanfiction #louisa may alcott #amy march #amy march x reader #florence pugh #mayifey

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filet-o-feelings · 2 years ago

Note

odd socks to reboot your brain?

Thank you, this definitely helped! I got the same prompt from @sspaz1000 and was planning to write Stevie/Twyla since neither of you specified a ship and I have another request with a double prompt containing odd socks for David/Patrick, but I forgot about that until after this was written. I can't help writing these two I guess 😂

Finally, Patrick is moving out of Ray’s house. Finally, they’ll have some privacy.

That’s why David is so willing to help Patrick unpack. The quicker they get this done, the quicker they can break in Patrick’s new mattress and test out the bedding David helped him pick out.

He finishes hanging up the box of various shades of blue shirts, hanging them in order from light to dark to create a pleasing gradient before moving on to the next box, labeled socks. He assumes Patrick forgot, in the excitement of packing and finally having his own space, to write whatever else was added to the box along with the socks, because the box is far too large to only contain socks.

The first thing he notices upon opening the box is that it contains far more color than he had expected.

The second thing he notices is that as he moves the socks to the dresser drawer he deems appropriate for socks, he only continues to uncover more socks.

He becomes more concerned with each layer; no man requires this many pairs of socks. Surely, with this next pair, he will uncover some new garments, and then he can start mentally unpacking the types of socks he’s been finding.

Another layer, and there’s still nothing but socks. He picks up a pair and winces as he realizes it is covered in various little sports balls. Another shows a scene - a scene! on a pair of socks! - of cartoon dogs playing baseball.

He wonders briefly if he even knows the man he’s gotten into business with, not to mention sleeping with, at all.

Patrick looks over at him from the kitchen area where he’s unpacking dishes and various cooking utensils and smiles, and David can’t help but smile back. It doesn’t matter that Patrick has an entire box of very odd socks that don’t match the rest of his wardrobe whatsoever, and is, oh god, definitely going to take up more than one drawer, because it’s Patrick. His Patrick, oddball that he may be, David loves him.

“Have we done enough yet to justify ordering pizza and taking a break?” he asks, and Patrick chuckles but pulls out his phone.

“Pepperoni and extra cheese? How about sides?”

“Yes and yes - how about some wings?” David suggests, stomach already growling in anticipation.

“Sounds good,” Patrick says, punching the order in on the app. “It should be here in 30 minutes. Wanna take a make-out break while we wait?”

David walks over to the kitchen and wraps his arms around Patrick, pulling him close. “I do think we deserve a pre-pizza break. We’ve made a lot of progress here.”

“I agree,” Patrick says before closing the rest of the space between them.

#thanks for asking!#and rebooting my brain!#it feels good to write again after staring blankly at my screen all week

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emrys-rusts · 10 months ago

Text

Greetings, my name is Mikhail but you can also call me Emrys

I am 18 and I go by He/Him pronouns.

I've been on tumblr eversince 2021, at which time I mostly posted and interacted with blogs about classical literature, Dostoevsky specificly! As such, you might find this a re-occuring interest of mine on this blog, coupled with whatever else I'm fixating on!

My interests tend to be all over the place, and as such, decided to divide them into categories:

History

Classical literature

Fantasy

Current specific interests

History;

This is a huge category as it ties into mostly all of my interests, especially the longer lasting ones. Relating to this category would be things such as:

• the 18th-19th century

(Fashion, historical events, culture, literature, art-history, music, shows related, movies related)

• the 80s/20th century

(Subcultures, punk-rock, heavy metal, sub-genres, historical events, fashion, (fantasy) literature at the time, shows related, movies related)

Classical Literature;

This is a big one! Reading classical literature has defined parts of me since I was 13 years old. Though it includes various stand-alone works here and there, the two I most interact with on here would be:

• Dostoevsky (more specificly, the brothers karamazov)

• Frankenstein

This is due to the fanbases being rather large, although there's some wonderful works on dorian gray, shakespeare, any russian literature, horror fiction (E.A.Poe), greek mythology, dracula, moby dick, etc.

I have never found this site lacking on my favorite books! And it always feels like there is space enough for your own contribution :)

Fantasy;

This one ties strongly into my 80s hyperfixations, as well as my interest in sci-fi and the steampunk genre. There is also a certain horror aspect to it that I like. The eldritch horror I contribute to my interest in the 19th century as well, since that genre developed during that time. Some main interests would be:

• tolkienverse (lord of the rings, the hobbit)

• dungeons & dragons (I'm planning a campaign)

• anything related such as fashion, events, oc's, diy

• sci-fi (typically fiction, like the mechanisms, doctor who or star wars)

• eldritch horror and mythical folklore

Current specific interests;

This list keeps updating, since I tend to hyperfocus on shows for weeks if not months, untill I find something else. Still, they always linger and re-occur, so I've decided to list the ones current. It'll be necessary to put them in an order from most to least interested;

The Mechanisms

The brothers karamazov

The odyssee, Homer (currently reading it)

Original Characters

Help so many interests are rotating right now-

On this blog, I tend to mostly reblog fanart, but in the future I'm hoping to post my own art more frequently!

I do not post any nsfw content, though I might reblog or post slightly suggestive content, if I find the artwork aestheticly appeasing. I'm ace so it's not a regular thing. I will also not tolerate any bigotry on my blog, for obvious reasons.

You can find me on insta under the same user name! DM's are usually open. I also can't promise to post regularly, but I will be trying my best!

Asks and art requests are open!!

Extras

♤PLAYLISTS♤

• Henry Clerval/Victor Frankenstein playlist, made in 2020:

[source: Frankenstein by Mary Shelley]

• Dungeon Master playlist coorelating with Eddie Munson, In-Universe, made in 2023:

[source: Stranger Things/"better by you, better than me"—fanfiction by palmviolet on ao3]

• The Magnus Institute Playlist/Tim Stoker Playlist, In-Universe, made in 2024:

• Jonathan Sims playlist, In-Universe & set during season 1, made in 2024

[Source for both: The Magnus Archives written by Jonny Sims]

• Jonny D'ville playlist, made in 2024

[Source: The Mechanisms, steampunk sci-fi band]

#intro post #literature #history #fantasy #might need to update this and make it less complicated #idk it all makes sense in my head but it doesnt #my interests have connections but they dont and aaahhh #Spotify

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jasperfei2 · 1 year ago

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Old friends

PhinFei fanfic!!

*warning*

This will be a lot different from the HxH canon world, and this is my first fic so it may not be written super well.

It was a hot august day in York New city, though people were still bustling the streets, and you could hear car horns from miles away.

Up in a tall apartment building lived a short man named Feitan Portor, age 28 and five years out of university, he was looking to become a business owner, his dream was to have his own company.

He worked hard in mathematics and all kinds of science to become an astronaut, since it was year 2450, everything was super futuristic but even with all of the technology no one has ever flown out of this galaxy.

It was Feitan’s goal to do that.

The short man was in his apartment room, sitting calmly at his desk to do work on his computer, not feeling energized at all even though having three cups of coffee and a fourth one on the go.

He typed pretty fast on the computer, not even having to look at keys to do so.

His head perked up a little when he heard his phone buzzing but it was all the way over on his bed.

‘why didn’t I just leave the phone beside me…?’

He sighs and reached over to grab it while his body was half off his work chair, he managed to grab his phone right before falling to his demise on the wooden ground.

He answered and puts the phone up to his ear, using his shoulder to keep it up while typing on his computer still.

“Hello?”

“Uh, hey Feitan, it’s me Phinks.” The other person on the line said.

Feitan stopped typing and then grabbed his phone, feeling a bit surprised.

“Oh, hey there, we have not called in a long time…usually when you do something bad has happened.”

“Well…nothing bad happened, don’t worry, I was calling to say that I’m gonna be visiting the city and I was wondering if you’d like to hangout?”

Feitan knew he’d say that.

They were best friends through elementary school and all the way out of high school, they practically hung out every day, staying over at each other’s house and playing video games or listening to some music.

“Hangout?” Feitan asked, with his quiet, whispery voice.

“Yeah, we haven’t done it in awhile, y’know? I wanna catch up on a few things.”

Feitan leaned back in his seat, staying quiet for an extra moment, thinking.

He guessed he should say yes to the other’s request, it wouldn’t hurt to hang out at all, and the thought of catching up on things with him made him kinda happy.

“Yeah, that sounds good, we can hangout on the weekend if you want…I will not be busy.” Feitan nods, but knowing the other couldn’t see his nods.

Phinks was on his porch while talking to him, standing up and watching the rain.

“Seriously? Great! I’m gonna be flying in on Friday at noon, then I’ll have to fly out Monday morning.”

Phinks, age 27, lived all the way out in Oregon, living in a small town in the forest mountains, he was definitely an outside kind of man, going fishing every other weekend, same with hunting, though he worked a few jobs, he works as a mechanic engineer for cars, working in a calm auto shop, his second job was something else revolving around cars, which was a Body Shop and he worked there for plenty of years now, being the manager as well.

He also owned a few horses, using them to get around in the large land of forests, he usually ride them without any tack on, and the horses just knew the way home or knew all of the trail rides by memory.

“And hey you’re still dating that guy right?” Phinks asked a bit loudly…

Feitan frowns a bit at the other man’s voice.

“No, we broke up like two years ago, Phinks.” He said in a quiet manner.

“Oh is that right? Can’t believe I didn’t know that.”

Feitan slowly closed his computer.

“Yeah, uh, it was…hard, left me here to raise a kid, and not a single ounce of child support.” The short man mumbled.

Him and his ex boyfriend got a kid because they thought they would would eventually get married and have a life together, but Feitan was wrong, a few years into their relationship he learnt that the man wanted nothing to do with him and flat out cheated on him and left.

Feitan wouldn’t want to use the word ‘stuck’ but he was left with his daughter, Lin, she was only four years old, but even though she knew she only had one parent she was a really happy kid, she went to school, having a bunch of friends, she went on field trips, and her all time favourite thing in the world was having a father-daughter date with Feitan, he usually took her shopping, or go out to a restaurant, also to go eat ice cream, but sometimes they wouldn’t even go out and spend money, he would take her out to the city park and just walk around.

Though Feitan got too many comments asking if he was Lin’s older brother, he guessed people said that because he was just short…

Phinks stayed silent on the other line, but he finally began to speak.

“You have a kid?! Damn I know nothing about you now, man.”

Feitan let out a heartfelt chuckle.

“Yeah, sudden News flash is it not?”

“Definitely is, I do not see you as a father, but whatever.” Phinks laughed a bit.

“Well, anywho, I should get going, I’m gonna get flooded with calls of people who didn’t get their car fixed in time, I’ll text you what flight gate I’m in, I’ll also text you when I land.” He said more calmly now.

Feitan looked out his window and nods.

“Sounds good, talk to later Phinks.” He smiled a bit and then hung up, immediately looking up at the ceiling and smiling more.

He contained all his excitement during the call but he couldn’t help to let it out now, he was gonna see an old friend…

Friday, at 11:30 PM, place: airport

Feitan had got up in the morning to get a shower, do his normal skin care routine and get a little dressed up.

He was nervously waiting in the airport, glancing at at everyone who walked out of the gate, he didn’t know why he felt so nervous, he was going to see an old friend who he shared everything with.

He checked the time one last time before he lifted his head up and saw Phinks walk out of the gate, looking around for the short man, though he spotted him and they locked eyes.

Phinks stood there for a moment before hurrying over to him.

“Hey.” He smiled softly, looking down at him.

Feitan looked up at him and only did a half smile, though he was happy.

“Hey.” He said back, but before he could say anything else, Phinks grabbed him and pulled him a hug, a very sincere one.

Feitan was shocked and didn’t expect it but he slowly hugged back, sighing.

He could feel all of his tension in his body just wash away,

“This is new…I thought you didn’t like hugs.”

Phinks chuckled a bit and hugged him a bit tighter.

“Hm, well you have an exception.” He said quietly.

Feitan laughed quietly before letting go.

“Ok— ok, you are suffocating me.” He patted the others arm.

Phinks noticed he was hugging him pretty tight he he let go.

“Oh I’m sorry— I’m used to hugging normal sized people.”

Feitan raised a brow. “You did not just say that.” He crossed his arms.

The taller man let out a boisterous laugh.

“Hell yeah I did! I’ve been wanting to say that for years.” He leaned back a little.

Feitan just rolled his eyes and looked away.

“You are as annoying as a remember…” He mumbles.

“Yeah is that right? At least I wasn’t as annoying as you were back in the day, always picking at me.”

“You deserved it.”

“Whatever…well, how’s life in the city? Busy I bet.” Phinks said and readjusted the back pack on his back.

“It is, really overwhelming sometimes but y’know…how was you flight by the way?” Feitan asked.

“Ugh, it was awful, I was sitting next to a really annoying couple who couldn’t get their hands off each other, and we had to land the plane multiple times because of weather…longest ten hours of my life.”

Feitan let out a little laugh, nodding.

“Yeah I know what you are talking about it, I had a two day delay when I moved here like five years ago then a kid sat behind me and kicked my chair the whole flight.”

“God yeah I hate that, I would just stand up and yell at the parents or some shit.”

“I almost did that but the mom did get the kid to stop.” Feitan let out a soft sigh, looking back at Phinks. “Anywho, uh c’mon, I will drive you to my place.” He said and started to walk to the exit.

Phinks nods and didn’t hesitate to follow him, he still had a small smile on his face.

.5:30 PM, Only a few hours have passed.

Feitan had made Phinks supper but he then said that will be the last time he will do so.

Phinks didn’t mind, he liked making his own suppers anyways.

Feitan had made soup and he was drinking it, though he heard a knock on the door which made him put his spoon down

“Oh that must be Lin.” He stood up and quickly walked to the door, to open it and let his daughter in.

Lin smiled brightly as she walked in. “Hi dad!” She exclaimed happily and slipped her bag off her back.

“We had the funnest school trip! We went to the zoo and—“

She noticed Phinks sitting at the table, she has never seen him before.

“Who’s the man at the table, dad?” She asked, stepping closer to Feitan

Feitan shook his head a bit and puts his hand on his shoulder.

“That’s Phinks, an old friend. Phinks, meet Lin, Lin meet Phinks.”

Phinks leaned back in his chair and just waved, he never really knew what to do around little kids, he wasn’t ‘scared’ of them, he just avoided them.

“Hi little person.” He said.

Lin sheepishly waved back and almost hid behind Feitan.

Feitan chuckled and looked at her.

“Do not worry, he may look really scary but he’s not.”

“Oh, ok.” Lin said and nods.

“Here— come sit at the table with us, we’re having your favourite soup.” Feitan said and he walks to the table with her, helping her up on the chair.

“Oh and tomorrow, I am gonna be busy so I am gonna drop you off at grandma’s house, ok? She said she wanted to bake cookies with you.” He said.

Lin smiled again and nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah! I love baking with grandma!” She grabbed her soup bowl and started eating some.

“Yeah I know you do.”

Phinks stayed pretty silent, watching them, but mostly Feitan, he kinda forgot how nice the other looked, it made him feel a little more nervous now, and now he couldn’t get his eyes off of him, but once he noticed the other looked at him, he immediately turned his head, looking somewhere else, feeling kinda flustered and awkward.

His mind was racing a bit….did he have feelings for Feitan?

#hunter x hunter #feitan portor #feitan #hxh #fanfic #friends #lovers #phinfei #phinks #phinks magcub #long fic #first fic

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endlling · 7 years ago

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@sarusu / @dancersofdestiny

👗 for a moodboard about my muse’s fashion style

you guys know him so well lol

#sarusu #dancersofdestiny #shiro #shirowardrobe #shiromusing #thank you both for sending!!#i made a extra large one since two requested the same thing

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roosterforme · 2 years ago

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Just Desserts | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Rooster only has eyes for his girlfriend and her baked goods.

Warnings: Fluffy Smut

Length: 2000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Based on this fun request from an anonymous friend!

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? but it can be read on its own!

Check my masterlist.

Early Saturday morning, Bradley went out to play a round of golf with some of the guys. He had left you sleeping in bed, just pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before he left. He had promised you he would return around lunchtime and spend the rest of the day and the entire night with you.

He was getting close to his next deployment, and he had initially scoffed at the idea of forfeiting even a few hours of your day off together, but you had got on him about being more social. So he accepted the golfing invitation from Bob, Hangman and Coyote.

Turns out you were a genius, because he ended up having a great time playing golf, kicking back a few 'breakfast' beers and hanging out. Bob was the only good golfer in the bunch, so it didn't really matter that Bradley lost a few balls along the way and that he had to fudge his score on the 15th hole.

And now he was heading back home to you. When he unlocked the door and stepped inside, he audibly groaned. "Smells so good in here," he mumbled, taking in the sight before him. You were in the kitchen, wearing your I Love Meat apron that he bought for you randomly one day when he saw it. And you were surrounded by cupcakes, muffins, pies and brownies. One of your perfectly curated playlists was playing on your phone next to a stack of cookbooks.

Then it clicked. You had mentioned you needed time to work on things for the Navy's bake sale with the San Diego Children's Hospital. Apparently you volunteered for this fundraiser every year, and Bradley had promised you weeks ago that he would be your personal taste tester.

"I'm back, and I'm ready to work!" Bradley said as he kicked off his golf shoes and headed into the kitchen. "Give me stuff to sample."

"Hey, Roo. Did you have fun?" you asked, and he wrapped his arms gently around your waist from behind. He kissed the side of your neck as you unwrapped some sticks of butter. He thought you looked extra cute in your sweatpants and tee shirt with your hair piled on top of your head. And there was a smudge of flour on your cheek that he really wanted to take some time to kiss away.

You always made him feel like this. He couldn't figure out if he was more horny or more loved up. He wanted to romance you and tear your clothing to shreds at the same time. It was very confusing and oftentimes overwhelming, but he usually just went along with it.

"Yeah, golf was fun. Thanks for making me go," he whispered next to your ear. He didn't want to distract you too much, since you seemed to have a lot of baking to finish. "Can I help at all, Baby Girl? I know how to separate eggs now, remember? Or I'm more than willing to sample what you've made."

With a grin, you turned in his arms slightly and kissed his lips. "Want to try one of the brownies for me?" you asked, nodding your head toward a tray cooling on the island.

"Yep." He cut himself a large square and took a bite. Of course it was perfect. "So good, it brings tears to my eyes, Sweetheart," he mumbled around another bite.

"Good. Now try a blueberry muffin," you instructed him as you set two beautiful looking pies in the oven.

Bradley ate a muffin in three bites and moaned. "Delicious, Baby Girl. Can I try a cupcake?"

"Sure, they're cinnamon spice with cream cheese frosting," you said, but he'd already eaten half of one. And now you were mixing ingredients in a bowl with a wooden spoon, kind of dancing along to the music playing, and Bradley really couldn't help himself.

He stood behind you and kissed your neck again, letting his hands come to rest on your hips. "And what about this? Can I try a sample? It looks so pretty, I'd love to eat it."

You giggled and then gasped as Bradley slid his hands to the front of your hips, in between your sweatpants and your apron. He rubbed himself against your butt and you moaned, "What are you doing, Roo?"

He grinned into your hair and kissed your ear. "I heard you like meat."

You burst out laughing, and he was so happy he had bought you that apron. He loved making you laugh, and tried to make it a daily priority.

"I like your meat," you whispered, still laughing.

"Think you can take a little break, Sweetheart?" Bradley untied your sweatpants and slipped his hand inside the elastic band, caressing the soft skin of your belly. You tipped your head back against his shoulder as he drew little circles with his fingertips next to your belly button.

He let his fingers trail lower until they toyed with the top of your underwear. Your phone started playing I Only Have Eyes for You, and Bradley sang along.

'My love must be a kind of blind love,

I can't see anyone but you.'

You whimpered and spun in his arms so you were facing him. Now his fingers were kneading into your lower back. You looked up at him, and he was struck by the expression of desire on your face.

'Are the stars out tonight?

I don't know if it's cloudy or bright.

I only have eyes for you.'

"Bradley," you moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to kiss you. You and he drifted slowly around between the kitchen counter and the island, dancing to the song. Your languid kisses were making him dizzy. The lazy way you moved him around the kitchen and the softness of your sighs was mixing with the sweet smell of baked goods.

Everything took on a hazy quality as Bradley untied your apron and tossed it gently aside. "I love you," he whispered before claiming your mouth again. Your fingers tangled gently in his hair, pulling softly on his scalp; Bradley was practically panting at your touch. He wrapped his arms around your waist until you were flush against the front of him. When his mind registered that you weren't wearing a bra, he groaned. He gazed down at you between kisses. A different song started playing, but his brain couldn't tell what it was. He couldn't focus on anything but you.

He watched your tongue flick out of your mouth, and you licked his chin and then his lower lip, and soon he was devouring you, pulling your lip between his teeth and nibbling. "Good enough to eat," he murmured as you pulled his golf shirt over his head.

You giggled as you ran your hands over his bare shoulders and chest. "I agree," you whispered, placing open mouthed kisses just below his collarbones before licking the scars on the side of his neck. Bradley's head tipped back as your fingers connected with the button of his golf pants, and when you guided them down his legs along with his boxer briefs, he had to bite his lip. You were placing gentle kisses to his thighs and along the length of his erection.

He hauled you up to your feet and wrapped his arms around you, backing you up against the counter. "God, Baby GIrl, you feel better than anything." He kissed you hard as your legs tangled with his, and he held you upright, delving his tongue into your mouth.

Bradley was dimly aware that you were pulling your shirt over your head, and he watched some strands of your hair fall around your face. You were gorgeous like this, your eyelids half closed as you bit your lip and looked up at him. He shook his head slowly, taking it all in.

When he guided your sweats and your underwear off, he wrapped his hands around the backs of your thighs and lifted you up, setting you gently on the edge of the counter. Your hands immediately went to his chest, and you yelped, but he wasn't going to drop you. Then you welcomed his lips back to yours as you scooted to the edge. Bradley could feel the warm wetness of your opening pressing against his length when you spread your legs open for him. He adjusted himself so you were perfectly lined up, and he wrapped your arms around his neck before wrapping his hands around your waist.

He kissed you gently, reverently as he pushed himself inside you. You sighed into his mouth and he moved in a slow, steady rhythm, in time with the sweet melody playing from your phone. He would remember this moment when he was deployed; he'd play it over and over again. Knowing he could come back home to this, to you, made everything okay.

You ran the tip of your nose along his cheek, kissing him there and whispering his name. Your voice spurred his movements, and he pushed himself into you harder and harder without picking up the pace. He watched your breasts bounce each time he bottomed out, and you tipped your head back, guiding his lips to your neck. He sucked on your soft skin, biting you and nuzzling against you. Then he soothed you with his mustache and his tongue. He only wanted to make you feel good.

He could feel you starting to squeeze him, so he slid his knuckles back and forth along your belly before settling his fingers on your clit. He gathered some of your wetness and teased you closer to coming. When he wrapped his other arm around your back and pulled you hard onto his length, you cried out, your voice breaking on his name.

Unable to control himself, he fucked into you with faster strokes, nearing his own end as you wrapped your legs around him, riding him to completion. Once you were both panting, and he was just thrusting his cum further into you as his thrusts slowed down, Bradley realized that the kitchen timer was going off.

"Sweetheart, what's the timer for?" he rasped next to your ear, nuzzling against you. He didn't want to pull out of you yet, but he needed to in order to reach the timer. He fumbled with it, distracted as his cum dripped from your pretty pussy and onto the counter.

"Umm," you hummed, biting your lip and running your hands through your very messy hair. "I ummm... the pies? I think I put pies in the oven?"

Bradley nodded and shoved your oven mitts onto his hands, he carefully pulled both pies out, setting them down gently on the stove burners. He turned to you, and you winced when you saw them. They both had slightly burned edges and very dark tops.

"I'll still eat them!" Bradley offered when he saw your face. "And I'll love them!"

You cradled your head in your hands and laughed. "This is because you're never quick, Bradley."

"Okay, okay," he said in mock-defense, tossing the mitts onto the counter. "You can complain about a lot of things when it comes to me, but do not complain about that, Baby Girl."

"It was merely an observation, Roo. Not a complaint," you said, giggling as he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you senseless.

Then after you cleaned up, he helped you bake two new pies while he ate one of the burned ones directly out of the pie pan with a fork.

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

*sigh* Thanks anonymous friend, I really loved writing this one!

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@yaboid19

@mak-32

@miles-rooster

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@grxnde-dwt

@callsigndiamond

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@beebslebobs

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@babybloomer

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