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zeasty · 19 days ago

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"What are you doing with that remote?" Jordan asked, raising an eyebrow. His muscular arms were crossed, and he towered over the couch where I sat in my yellow underwear, Xbox controller in hand.

"Just testing something out," I replied casually, trying to hide my grin. Jordan had always been the loud, cocky gym bro type—constantly flexing, bragging about his lifting stats, and tossing around jokes that weren’t nearly as funny as he thought they were. I had tolerated his presence because, well, we were stuck sharing the flat. But when I discovered the strange power this controller had, an idea formed in my mind.

Jordan leaned in, his short blonde hair catching the light from the window. "Whatever, man. I’m hitting the gym in a few, just don’t mess with my stuff."

I pressed the first button on the controller—A—and felt a small jolt in the air. Jordan paused mid-sentence, blinking rapidly.

"Uh, what was I saying?" he muttered, confused. I couldn’t help but smirk as I watched his broad, muscular chest shift, subtly narrowing. His gym shorts, always barely clinging to his tree-trunk legs, now seemed looser. He looked down at himself in mild confusion but brushed it off with a shrug.

"You're saying you're going to the gym," I reminded him, holding back laughter.

"Right, yeah... gym," he said, but his voice had softened slightly. Another button press—B this time. His aggressive posture relaxed, and his towering frame seemed to shrink just a bit more. His shirt, which used to cling to his body like a second skin, now looked slightly baggy. His previously sharp jawline was rounding out, and the confident swagger he always carried had faded.

Jordan glanced at me, his short beard now a mere shadow on his softening face. "Do you think... I look different?" he asked, his voice quieter, almost shy.

"Oh, you look perfect," I said, pressing the Y button. His attitude shifted instantly. The cockiness that once radiated from him was gone, replaced by uncertainty. He ran a hand through his buzz-cut hair, which now seemed to grow slightly longer, falling over his forehead in soft waves. His shoulders, once broad and imposing, were becoming delicate.

"Wait, man, something's off..." Jordan said, his voice cracking as he spoke. His gym clothes were hanging off him now, and his once-athletic frame had become slight and lean, devoid of the bulk he’d worked so hard to maintain. His movements were less confident, more hesitant.

I pressed the X button, and his face flushed a deep red. "I-I don’t know what’s happening," he stammered, his former bravado completely gone. His once-muscular body was now slender, his shorts hanging loosely around his narrow hips. His eyes, wide and unsure, darted toward me. "What did you do?" he asked, his tone soft, almost pleading.

"Just making a few adjustments," I said, standing up and walking over to him. His hands trembled as he looked up at me, no longer the towering gym bro who used to dominate the flat with his presence. Now, he was a small, submissive figure, staring at me with a mixture of confusion and something else—obedience.

I tossed the controller onto the couch. "I think you’ll like this new version of you. Don’t you, Jordan?"

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Y-Yeah... I guess so," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"Good boy," I said with a grin, knowing full well there was no turning back now.

Jordan blinked slowly, as if trying to process the new reality that had settled over him. His lips parted, but no words came out. I could see the inner struggle in his eyes, like he was trying to hold on to some fragment of his old self, but the transformation was too strong.

"Jordan," I said, my voice firm, "you don't have to think anymore. You’ll do what I say, won’t you?"

His eyes fluttered. He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Y-Yes," he murmured, his tone now soft and deferential.

I moved closer, standing just inches away. The shift in dynamic was palpable—he, the once-dominant gym bro, was now looking up at me with wide, obedient eyes. I could sense his new instincts kicking in, the need to follow, to please.

"Good," I said, running a finger down the side of his face. His skin felt smoother, softer now. He shivered at the touch but didn't pull away. His body was leaning into it, unconsciously seeking more. "And you know what else, Jordan? You’re gay now. You’re going to enjoy every second of it."

His eyes widened, confusion flashing across his face, but then something changed. His posture softened further, his breath coming out in shaky, unsure bursts. His lips trembled, and I could tell the thought was settling into his mind like a command.

"Gay?" he repeated, the word sounding foreign on his tongue.

"Yes. You want men now. You want me," I whispered in his ear. He shivered again, and I could see his resistance fading. Whatever remnants of his old identity were left were crumbling under the weight of this new reality.

Jordan swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the floor. His breathing was faster now, and I could see the internal struggle, though it was barely there anymore. I pressed another button on the controller, sealing his new desires into place. His body relaxed completely, accepting the truth.

"I… I want you," he whispered, the words coming out as if they had always been there, just waiting to be spoken. He looked up at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of longing and submission, his old bravado utterly gone.

"Say it again," I ordered.

"I want you," he repeated, louder this time. His voice was soft but sure. His once-commanding presence was now reduced to a whisper of obedience, and I could see the hunger in his gaze—a new, undeniable part of him that would never go away.

"And you’ll do anything I say, won’t you?" I asked, watching him closely.

He nodded, more eagerly this time. "Yes, anything."

A satisfied smile spread across my face. "Good. From now on, you're mine, Jordan. No more gym bro attitude, no more trying to act tough. You’re going to be the obedient little twink I made you, and you're going to love every second of it."

Jordan’s eyes glazed over with a mixture of awe and desire. "Yes," he whispered, the word almost a prayer now. "I’ll do anything for you."

The transformation was complete. Jordan—once an obnoxious, straight, alpha male—was now soft, submissive, and undeniably mine.

Hayden Greene

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shivroy · 7 years ago

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yes, good

#art #homestuck #fantrolls #seetsu leinid #zander nadium #since i hc that as the hemospectrum goes up theinternal body tempurature is lower #zander must consider seetsu to be a Toasty Boy #not nearly as radiator-like as jordan #but zander would hardly ever get the opportunity to touch jordan so #seetsus good too

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helnjk · 4 years ago

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Sweater - G.W.

George Weasley x fem!reader

Requested: yes

hi could you write something for george weasley using prompts 29, 11, 36? if your requests are still open❤️⚡️

“i’m running out of jumpers, just so you know”

“i like having something that smells like you”

“how long have you been standing there?”

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: the 5 times George Weasley sees you in his sweater and the 1 time you get your own.

Warnings: mentions of food

A/N: we’re just gonna //ignore// that this doesn’t follow the canon timeline exactly (especially where they spent christmas certain years) okay? cool. also! this was very festive so i guess this can be counted as a christmas fic 🥰

Prompts are in bold

One

The Gryffindor common room was freezing. Despite being situated as close to the fire as physically possible (without getting burned), you shivered and shook in your thin sweater. You were trying to work on a last minute potions essay, the last one before the Christmas hols began, but your current freezing state was stopping you from writing another word.

You scanned the empty room, most students already having retired to bed that night. A flash of blue and yellow in the far corner of the room caught your eye. Quickly, you scrambled up off the floor and rushed to investigate.

On the back of one of the squishy red couches hung a blue sweater with a yellow letter G right in the middle. You knew immediately who owned it: George Weasley, another Gryffinder first year like you. With another glance around the room, you quickly snatched it up and slid it over your head.

Immediately, the thick wool provided enough warmth for you to get back to your work.

A while later, you finished the last sentence of your paper with a flourish, just as you heard someone shuffle down the spiral staircase and into the common room. Your head snapped up as the person in question came to view and your heart stopped.

“Y/L/N?” George whispered, barely making your face out since the fire was directly behind you.

“Hi George,” You squeaked, “What’re you doing up so late?”

His eyes darted around the room in search of something, and you felt your stomach drop. “Erm, yeah. I got cold so I was just looking for my–”

When his gaze circled back to you he finally noticed what you were wearing, “Is that my sweater?”

You nodded, squirming under his gaze. If it wasn’t past midnight in the dead of winter, and if he wasn’t hazy with sleep, he would’ve probably teased you senselessly about it. But seeing the sweater swallowing you, the shoulders slipping off and the sleeves way past your fingers, all he could do was grin.

“It’s alright,” He said, “Just wanted to know where it was. At least now I know that it’s in good hands.”

With a cheeky wink, he turned on his heel and trudged back up the boys’ staircase. You were left staring at where he previously stood, your mouth slightly agape.

Did that really just happen?

Two

Gleeful shouts carried over from the snow covered fields and into the warm house. From your spot by the window, you could just barely make out the tiny figures zooming past each other, contrasting against the pale landscape.

You clutched at a steaming mug of tea, basking in the warmth it gave your chilly hands. Despite your best efforts, you were still shivering in the house that most likely had several heating charms in place at all times.

After being friends with the Weasley twins for nearly three and a half years, you were finally going to spend the Christmas hols at the Burrow with their family. To say you were excited would be an understatement. With everything going on in school, you were ecstatic to be able to spend some time with some of your best friends.

The warmth and the heavenly smells radiating from the kitchen made you gravitate towards the door. Maybe helping out with the cooking could ease up some of the chill you had in your bones.

“Would you like some help, Molly?” You asked hopefully, seeing her putter about in the kitchen. You knew that she had a whole hoard of mouths to fill, so you were happy to offer her some assistance.

She tutted in response, “Nonsense, dear! I’m quite fine managing on my own. Thank you for the offer.”

With a swish of her wand, several things in the kitchen began moving at once and you were left to your own devices. You spared a quick glance out the window, only to see the silhouettes still racing in the sky.

An idea struck you and you made your way up the stairs as quickly as possible without drawing too much attention to yourself. Thankfully, the twins’ room was just on the second floor of the house and their door was left slightly ajar.

You were quick to spot George’s battered old trunk laying at the foot of his bed. Your cold fingers nimbly popped the latch open and clutched onto exactly what you were looking for. His old blue Christmas sweater was soft to touch and a little worn, but you thought that it added to its charm.

One of the main reasons why you rummaged through George’s things for his sweater, instead of Fred’s, was that his distinct woodsmoke and apple scent clung onto it and made you feel safe and warm wrapped in it. You pressed the soft fabric to your face and inhaled deeply, taking comfort in the familiar scent of your best friend.

You were not sniffing the jumper because it reminded you of your crush on a certain redheaded twin, no. Not at all.

Swiftly, you lifted the jumper above your head and slipped into it. You loved the feel of the warm wool enveloping your frame. It would have been almost perfect if you hadn’t heard someone clear their throat from the doorway.

Your heart jumped to your throat as you turned on your heel and spotted George leaning against the doorway.

“Well, well, well,” He teased, making his way to you, “What do we have here? A sweater thief?”

“How long have you been standing there?” You mumbled, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Long enough to see that you’re apparently obsessed with me.” He grinned cheekily.

You rolled your eyes and tried to hide the fact that a blush was creeping up your neck and onto your cheeks, “Shove off, Weasley.”

He swung an arm loosely around your shoulders, “Well I don’t think you can use that kind of language on me now, Y/N. Especially when that’s my jumper you’re going around wearing and sniffing.”

You groaned, shoving your head on his chest to hide your embarrassment, “I just like having something th–”

“You’re going to have to speak up, love, I can’t quite understand you.” He said, and you felt like his teasing grin would be permanently etched onto his face.

“I like having something that smells like you, okay?” You mumbled, this time a little louder and less muffled.

When George didn’t immediately respond, your heart began to pick up its pace in your chest. Slowly, you backed away from his face and your gaze landed on the flush on his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

A slow smile etched itself onto your face, “Have I just made the George Weasley blush?”

“Oh shut it sweater sniffer.”

You laughed, the slightly awkward tension dissipating at the sound and the two of you made your way back downstairs.

Three

“Psst.” A voice whispered next to you.

Your brows furrowed and you looked up from the book in front of you to see your boyfriend grinning cheekily at you, “Yes, George?”

The Great Hall was practically silent, the only sounds resonating throughout the space were the scratching of quills and the rolling of parchment. Your voice was barely above a whisper as you weren't about to get scolded for chatting during study hall.

“Nothing,” He said bashfully, “I just think you look very beautiful today.”

Surprised at his sudden show of affection, you grinned up at him, “Thanks Georgie.”

Your hand slid across the dark stained table to squeeze his and you hadn’t let go as you continued on with your coursework. You were able to get quite a bit done before you felt George squeezing your hand to get your attention. When your eyes met his, you sent him a look to say what is it this time?

Slowly, he shuffled close enough to you to whisper directly into your ear, “I think you’d look much better wearing something of mine though.”

With a roll of your eyes, you focused back on the rolls of parchment before you. Ever since you two had officially gotten together, George had a thing for you wearing any type of clothing of his. His most favorite, he had confessed, was when you wore his Christmas jumpers. The nostalgia attached to the piece of clothing and seeing it envelop you made his heart soar whenever you’d slip it over your head.

The next Friday, despite the freezing weather, all students were required to head out to the Black Lake to watch the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament. You took it as an opportunity to adorn the blue and yellow sweater, making sure to layer appropriately for the below zero temperatures.

You could hear the twins’ shenanigans before you even reached the stands. The pair of red hair stood out among the crowds and let you know which direction to make your way to. Thankfully, you also spotted Lee Jordan saving a few seats around him while the twins went and collected bets.

When you reached him, he sent you a grin and patted a space next to him. The two of you chatted aimlessly for a bit, waiting not so patiently for either the twins to come back or for the second task to begin.

From George’s spot within the crowds, he glanced back at where he knew Lee to be saving a seat for him. The sight of you all bundled up in his sweater made something in his heart stop. The chilly breeze nipping at your face had caused your nose to turn slightly pink, and the way your hands fumbled at the end of the long sleeves moved something in him. He’s suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling of wanting to keep you in his life for as long as you let him.

You catch his eye from your position and send him a small wave. He grins and returns the gesture before Fred nudges him in the side to take the payment a third year is holding out.

Four

The whole house seemed to absorb the darkness that the Weasley clan brought with them. It was nearing sun up, and the lot of you along with Harry, Remus, and Sirius were all gathered in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, awaiting any sort of sign that Arthur was going to be okay.

After being shaken awake at the dead of night by George who was a mess of stumbled over words and tight grips, you didn’t think of anything else but to slip on the sweater he had lent you and follow him to Dumbledore’s office. Professor McGonagall simply raised her eyebrows at your presence in the midst of the rest of the Weasley children, saying nothing as she saw how George had clung on so tightly to you.

The illegal portkey Dumbledore created landed you right in the middle of the dreary old house you had spent much of your summer in. Remus and Sirius had tried their hardest to distract everyone from the brutality of the situation, but your boyfriend and his siblings wanted nothing but to sit around anxiously for any signal from the outside world.

So far, you had nodded in and out of sleep, your head lightly tapping against George’s shoulder as you fought to just be there with him. His grip on your hand had not ceased, but you weren’t complaining. His leg bounced up and down anxiously and you could practically see the gears turning in his head.

“It’ll be okay Georgie,” Became your mantra of the night, whispering it every so often and rubbing the back of his hand gently with your thumb.

He wouldn’t say anything in reply, his red rimmed eyes were unfocused, but you knew he heard you with the way he squeezed your hand.

When the message from Molly comes, spirits are slightly raised, but there’s still so much uncertainty. You decided to step out for a moment to use the restroom, splashing some cold water on your face in an attempt to wake yourself up some more. As you took in your sleep deprived and disheveled state in the mirror, you remembered that you’ve been wearing George’s sweater.

Quickly, you haphazardly pulled the garment over your head, smoothing down the crumpled sleeping shirt you’ve been wearing under it. In a flash, you’re making your way to where the Weasley clan has settled in for what seems like the whole day and take a seat next to George once again.

Silently, you held out his sweater to him. It took a few seconds for him to realize that you were offering for him to wear it.

“Thought you’d need the extra comfort right now,” You whispered, urging him to put it on.

A spark of recognition blazed in his eyes and he gently took the soft sweater from your hands. The moment it slipped over his head, he was immediately engulfed in your scent. All of a sudden, he was transported to three years prior when you had told him you enjoyed having something that smelled like him.

When his eyes met yours, you could make out a ghost of a smile on his lips. It had been the first expression he had pulled that night, or well it was early morning now, that wasn’t a grimace or a look of concern.

You smiled tentatively back at him, and he took your hand in his once again.

Five

The pale winter morning light leaked in through the windows and you blinked blearily. The soft inhale and exhale of George beside you and the warmth under the covers almost convinces you that you could afford to shut your eyes for a few more minutes. Almost. You groan as you remember what day it is and that you should be up soon.

It was Christmas morning. The first Christmas after the war had ended, and everyone was eager to bring some festive cheer back into their lives after having gone through such dark times.

As silently as you could, you left the warm confines of the duvet and began to pad your way into the kitchen. Christmas morning called for a full english and a pot of fresh tea. On the way out of the room you shared with George, you snagged one of his older blue sweaters and pulled it over your head.

Thankfully, that morning Fred hadn’t made it out of bed yet. Breakfast at the flat above the shop could go two ways; either you made it out of bed first and got the food cooking on the stove before one of the twins stumbled in sleepily, or Fred would be sat on the couch nursing his nth cup of tea that morning, having woken up due to some nightmares that he couldn’t quite shake off yet.

With a flick of your wand, ingredients made their way into their perspective pans, and plates and utensils floated down from the cupboards and onto the kitchen table. Soon, the enticing aroma of your favorite meal of the day was wafting through the corridors and into the other rooms.

As you were plating the steaming food, a voice called out from behind you, “I’m running out of jumpers you know.”

You looked up from your position fixing the plates of food on the table, to see George leaning against the door frame. Clad in only his pajama bottoms, you silently wondered if he was just never cold or if he did this to tease you on purpose.

“What’s yours is mine, love.” You shrugged, walking over to him and pressing a small kiss at the very edge of his mouth.

“Guess it’s good that you make me wonderful food everyday,” He says, eyeing the food laid out in front of him.

You roll your eyes playfully, “Oi, keep talking like that and I’m making meals just for myself!”

Later in the day, you sipped peacefully on Molly’s famous hot chocolate, seated on the squishy couch as the rest of the Weasley clan began to open their gifts. Fred was sat under the tree, rummaging through the different wrapped packages and throwing them to whomever they were addressed to. Little by little, each Weasley sibling began to pull out their signature colored Weasley jumper.

It filled your heart with so much warmth that you could all come together, especially after the last year you’ve had. Being separated from the people you loved and cared for the most had really taken a toll on all of you, so being under one roof together with nothing dark looming at the back of your minds, was such a blessing.

“Hey,” George whispered from where he stood behind the couch, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You turned slightly to look back at him, “What’s up, Georgie?”

“Come with me,” He nudged his head in the direction of the door.

“But I’m all warm and cozy,” You whined, motioning to the cup of hot chocolate in your hands, “Do I have to?”

“Oh just come on,” He rolled his eyes, going to place his hands under your armpits in an attempt to lift you off the sofa.

“Oi!” You complained, “I’m coming, I’m coming! Don’t get your wand in a knot.”

A few of the Weasleys sent amused glances your way, but this kind of interaction wasn’t unusual in the household so they mostly left you to your own devices. You hadn’t noticed that Molly was eyeing you with a slightly cheeky glint in her eye. She knew exactly what her son had in mind.

You gently placed your mug on the coffee table before turning around and linking your arm with George’s. He brought you just by the window of the kitchen and gave you a big grin.

“Alright then, Weasley. What’s all this about then?” You asked, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“I just wanted a little privacy so I could give you your gift.” An eyebrow raised slightly, you waited for him to continue, “I just thought you would finally like one of your own this year.”

To say you were confused was an understatement. You eyed your boyfriend nervously as he pulled a wrapped package seemingly from thin air. You wasted no time pulling the ribbon and carefully tearing at the brown paper.

Inside was a sweater that matched the exact blue of George’s, and right smack in the middle was the initial of your name in the same shade of yellow.

Your eyes darted from the gift and back up at the wonderful soul in front of you, and you couldn’t help but feel the prick of tears welling up.

He noticed this too, “Are you alright? I didn’t mean to make you cry. I just thought that you loved my jumpers so much that I would make you your own–”

At the realization that he had made the sweater himself, and hadn’t commissioned Molly to do it, made the dams of your eyes break. Your tears were freely falling by now and all you could think of doing was throwing your arms around George and pulling him into a slightly salty but ever so sweet kiss.

“I love it,” You whispered once you broke apart, “This is the best Christmas gift ever.”

#George Weasley #George Weasley imagines #George Weasley imagine #George Weasley fics #George Weasley fic #George Weasley x reader #George Weasley x y/n #George Weasley reader insert #George Weasley fluff #tw food

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heavenbarnes · 4 years ago

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I’m a rude bitch, what are you made of?

Naomi Lapaglia (Wolf of Wall Street) x Female Reader

Warnings/Contains: swearing, canon-typical arguing, unhealthy husband-wife relationship, cheating, top!naomi and bottom!reader, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, dirty talk, inappropriate relationship with employers, unsolicited flirting, flashing, implied exhibitionism

Word Count: 3,225

so what if you were the belfort’s house keeper? and what if you had this nasty crush on naomi? and what if she knew?

“Find what you’re looking for up her skirt, Jordan?” The sharp cut of that Brooklyn accent was quick to hit you.

It was quick to hit her husband too, judging by the deep sigh he let out from behind you. You straightened up, grabbing the remaining dishes from the table with one hand, the other tugging the hem of your dress down.

“Don’t fix yourself like it’s your fault, darling,” There was an almost melody to her voice. “Seems someone never learnt his fucking lesson.”

With that, it all kicked off. You walked towards the kitchen with your stack of dishes and cheeks burning hot, as your employers quite literally screamed at one another. Another morning in paradise.

Working for the Belfort’s, for the most part was a dream, you cleaned an exquisite house and looked after one very low maintenance baby. For that, they paid you generously and even took you on their family vacations.

All you had to put up with was the incessant screaming and Mr. Belfort trying to sneak a look and a feel, all worth it for the luxury you got to be a part of.

You zoned back into the fight as you walked back over to wipe down the table, still without uttering a word during all the commotion. This was like a morning ritual, as normal as a coffee and codeine, they weren’t awake till they’d screamed bloody-murderer at one another.

“For the last time, my love! I wasn’t looking up her fucking skirt!” Jordan gestured towards you frantically, stepping around behind you.

He was about to make another point, and as he opened his mouth to do so, his hands also came to grip your upper arms. You saw something change within Mrs. Belfort’s eyes and you even braced for impact.

“You get your hands off of her or I swear to God, Jordan!” She slammed her coffee cup down, the dark liquid rising up the side of the cup like an impending tsunami.

Mr. Belfort was quick to drop his hands, stepping back from you and watching his wife round the table until she was in front of you both. You felt caught in the middle, figuratively and literally thanks to the way they’d sandwiched you between them.

“You better watch yourself, motherfucker,” Her accent seemed to thicken as her voiced dropped an octave. “Before I bend this one over the table and make you watch the things I can do to her.”

You felt your body run red hot, the image of her living up to her threat moving clear through your mind. Without being able to stop yourself, your knees buckled slightly, most certainly not going unnoticed by Naomi. Her gaze drifted to you, where you were staring straight ahead and doing your best to seem unaffected by her words.

She saw right through you.

In kindness on her part, she didn’t mention it. Rather she dismissed you to carry on with your other morning duties, but didn’t ignore the way you shuffled off with your legs nearly clamped together. You hurried from room to room, collecting the hampers of dirty laundry so you could hide in the wash-house and out of trouble.

Shutting the door and leaning your back against the tiles, you were thankful it was able to cool you down a bit. It was in that moment you realized just how fucked you were, like a Duchess should, she had you royally fucked.

From the moment you started working for them, you knew you were going to have the hardest time keeping your thoughts about Naomi contained. Just the way that she walked with that air of importance was enough to have your thighs tensing.

It was obvious she knew what she was doing to you, that smirk that would prick up at the corner of her mouth every time she saw your eyes widen or your head drop. She took great delight at watching you squirm for her.

You’d nearly lost at all one night at dinner when you felt the patent leather toe of a stiletto dragging up the inside of your leg. The grip around your fork got so tight, you had little marks along your fingers for hours.

Naomi, on the other hand, dropped her fork right up the table and shook her head in faux-annoyance.

“I’m such a klutz, would you mind being a good girl and grabbing that for me?”

You swallowed harshly but nodded your head nonetheless, pushing back your chair and climbing under the table to retrieve the fork. Finding it quickly, you lifted your head to come back up but were stopped in your tracks by a single sight.

Naomi slowly parted her thighs, revealing to you that she had forgone underwear for her evening meal, and was most certainly baring her most intimate parts to you.

You thought you’d choke on your tongue, scrambling back towards your seat as you came up for air. She had a knowing smirk painted across her face as you extended it towards her with a shaking hand.

“You alright?” Jordan asked, giving you a worried glance. “You’ve barely said a word and now you look like you’ve had a fright?”

Mrs. Belfort hummed in agreement with her husband, bringing her napkin up to dab at her mouth.

“Yeah, what’s the matter?” She cooed, eyes holding yours still. “Pussy got your tongue?”

Rifling through the washing baskets, you sorted them out for laundering, anything to take your mind away from what you knew you shouldn’t be doing. Not only was she your boss, she was married, and married to an incredibly powerful man at that.

You knew in your heart that if you’d let him, he’d be just as unfaithful to her with you, as she would with roles reversed. But you just knew it’d create more trouble than good, even if that good was a long-legged blonde with a mouth on her that drove you doggone wild.

Just as the act of loading a washing machine was doing it’s trick, your fingers hooked around one garment that you really didn’t need to stumble across. You drew your hand back to find a red lacy pair of panties draped over the tip of your finger. It nearly had you light headed at the start.

Drawing them closer towards you, gingerly you looked over your shoulder just to confirm that you were alone in the laundry. Your heart was nearly beating out of your chest in fear of being caught, but this was just something you couldn’t stop.

Bringing the seat of her knickers to your face, you took in a deep breath and were immediately overwhelmed with the scent of her cunt. She smelt just as heavenly as you’d imagined she would, those nights after her husband drove you home and you’d raced inside to finger yourself to the thought of his wife.

It was all so bad, so wrong and so impure, nothing of what you were doing was close to being right. But when it came to Naomi, you were about ready to risk it all just for the sake of having one little chance with her. All it took was that one change, after that all bets were off. That change came in the form of her calling your name.

To say it startled you was an understatement, you were lucky you didn’t scream. Dropping the panties immediately back into the basket, you followed the sound right up the stairs and into Mr. and Mrs. Belfort’s bedroom, where Naomi sat waiting for you.

She was still in her robe, the one she wore to breakfast and the one you knew hid from your view the very skimpy lingerie she was wearing beneath it. Just knowing it was so close but still out of your reach had your mouth beginning to salavate.

Extended one finger towards you, she began to beckon you over. “Can you come here please?”

Never wanting to disappoint, you moved your feet towards her and subsequently towards her bed. Nothing sweet and right could come from being alone in her bedroom, with her wearing the bare minimum in front of you. You knew you had self control, but that much? That was asking for a miracle.

As you got closer, she stood up slowly, fingers moving to the tie on her robe. Suddenly it seemed as if time had slowed down for a moment, you could see her undoing the ribbon on her hip but there was nothing you could, or wanted, to do to stop her.

The silk of her robe slid off her shoulders and pooled on the carpet before you, leaving her in nothing more than a very thin set of bra and panties. You could see the way her nipples poked against the fabric, where the underwear had began to draw up on her hips.

You wouldn’t be leaving this room with pride.

Reaching out, her fingers wrapped around your elbow and pulled you in until you were flush against her. The heat radiating off of her was intoxicating, you were enveloped in the very essence of her, it was soaking into your clothes and staying on the air.

“You need to tell me, baby,” Her voice wrapped you up, binding you to her. “Are you going to let me have my fun with you?”

Quick to please, your doe eyes rose to her gaze and silently apologized for something you’d never done.

“B-before with Mr. Belfort, I’m sorry but I assure you there is nothing there.”

Naomi cut off your stuttering attempts at explaining yourself with a curt laugh, free hand coming and stroking at the edge of your face. Soft skin and long fingers leaving shivers in their wake.

“Honey, forget about making my husband pay for before,” The soothing lilt to her voice was once again doing its best to weaken you at the knees. “This is just my own little treat.”

Your mouth dried up, tongue suddenly too big for the space and your lips dropped open in a pathetic whimper. As much as the embarrassment was hot on your heels, you could tell from her expression that this was doing nothing but pleasing Mrs. Belfort.

“Let me hear you say it.” She cooed, lips coming up to the shell of your ear.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, you can fuck me, Mrs. Belfort.”

She released a theatrical gasp before closing her the edge of her teeth around your earlobe, pulling down gently. Her lips trailed down the length of your neck, the softest kisses being left behind in her wake.

“You’ve got a dirty mouth on you, girl,” She sighed into your skin. “We better put it to good use.”

Bringing her hands to the bottom of your dress, she was taking full control as she drew it up and over your head. Her fingers immediately went for your undergarments, stripping you down to you were completely exposed in front of her.

Stepping behind you, her hands ran across your body and left no inch of you untouched by her. You had an idea of what she was intending, it wasn’t an accident that this felt entirely like she was claiming you.

“You’re so beautiful, I don’t blame my husband for the way he looks at you.”

Her nose nudged against the back of your neck, hands running up to roll your breasts around her palms. Fingers tweaking at your nipples, you relaxed back against her and allowed the feeling of pleasure to take over.

“If only he knew that he wasn’t the one you were ready to risk it all for, hmm?”

You choked back a moan that was so desperately clawing its way out of your throat, especially with the way her hands were running down your stomach and getting dangerously close to where you needed her. She hovered above your mound, so close but not quite yet.

“Tell me, who is it that you want to fuck you?”

Along with another moan, you swallowed down your pride, hand shooting back and gripping the soft skin of her thigh.

“You, Naomi, I want you to fuck me and not Jordan.”

A delicious giggle flew around your ears, searing itself into your brain for safe keeping. It didn’t matter what noise she was making, it was set to drive you fucking wild. This moment was no exception to the rule, it wrote the damn rule.

Her hand came down against your mound, fingers slipping between your thighs as she cupped your heat. The feeling of her palm pressed against your aching clit drew an unabashed moan from deep within your chest, only spurring her on to rub it in the smallest circles.

She drew back from you just as quick as she touched you. Too overwhelmed to move, you listened to the sounds of her stripping the rest of her clothes, coming to sit before you on the bed. Naomi shuffled back, hands out behind her to keep her propped up.

“Before I give you what you want, I think you need to earn it.” With her words, she slowly spread her thighs until her cunt was once again on display to you.

Instinctively you dropped to your knees, moving towards the edge of the bed until she was only moments from you. Her hand came out to gently rub across the top of your head, coming around the back and pulling you even further into the meeting of her thighs.

Naomi pressed your face right to her dripping heat, your tongue coming out to catch her clit as she did. She tasted like bliss, like she was laced with gold flakes, this would be a taste you never tired from.

A long groan left her lips, head tipping back as you moved your mouth deftly against her pussy. She held you there, reminding you of the control she had over you as her hips started to roll against your face.

You brought your hands to wrap around her thighs, getting as close as you could. The messy sounds and sight of you must’ve been incredible, the way you hungrily lapped at her cunt and buried your face even further into her.

A symphony of moans serenaded the room, her toes curling against the bed as your lips wrapped around your clit. Had she known her little house-keeper was going to be this fucking good with her mouth, she would’ve had you on these silk sheets months ago.

Naomi’s elbow buckled under the pressure of your mouth, combined with the quiet moans that were reverberating against her. She gripped tighter onto you, pulling you in close as she was essentially riding your face.

Letting her do whatever she wanted, you moved your tongue quicker and fell in love with the way she cried your name in pleasure. It’d never sound the same coming from her, not now you know the way it sounds when you’ve got her pussy on your mouth.

Gripping hard onto you, you felt the rush of wetness as Naomi unraveled on your tongue, one leg coming to wrap around your shoulder as she did so. You remained in that same place, destined to do as you were told whilst you took her through her high.

When the sensitivity became too much, she drew you back before pulling you up towards her. Laying against her, you felt her lips connect with yours as she kissed her taste from your mouth. Moaning against your lips, you snaked your hands around her waist in an attempt to cover any inch of her skin you could.

Feeling one of her hands moving against you, it became very clear to you that she was on a direct path to where you were quite literally dripping for her. Naomi ran her fingers along your slit, dipping in to rub against your clit before coming to rest at your entrance.

With her tongue finding purchase in your mouth, she slipped two fingers inside of you and quickly curled them up. You couldn’t help but squeal into her mouth, gripping onto her sides as her fingers began to move with you.

Clenching around her, it’d never felt nearly this good when all you could do was think of her. You never knew it was going to feel like heaven on earth once she finally got her hands on you. The incoherent cries and moans of her name were flooding the room, sure to drift under the doors and fill the house in short time.

“I’m sure this is better than touching your little pussy and thinking of me, huh?”

Your eyes shot open in fright, looking to her with the complete knowing of being caught, painted across your face. She just grinned at you, that kind of cruel grin that said “you’re in for it now.”

“You think I couldn’t hear you, moaning my name when you’ve locked yourself in the bathroom?”

All the times you’d quickly tried to get yourself off to make your work day more bearable, suddenly flashed past your mind. You would’ve recoiled in shame if Naomi’s fingers hand’t suddenly sped up, instead making your mouth drop open with a cry.

“Go on, show me how pretty you sound when you say my name.”

So you did, pretty whimpers of her first name drifted past your lips some more. She smiled into your neck but you could still tell there was something more she wanted.

“Hmm, try again, and make sure he can hear it.”

It had to be the affect she had on you, because suddenly you were crying out a long moan of Mrs. Belfort, and if her husband couldn’t hear it, he would’ve had to be on the other side of the world.

That hit the spot and sure enough her thumb was coming to rub against your clit in time with the thrust of her fingers. Falling apart in her hands, you felt your whole body tensing against her, stars beginning to rush past your eyes in bliss.

She knew every button to push and exactly what it did, she could tell by the fierce grip you had on her thigh that your high was right around the corner and it was approaching faster than you could manage.

Trailing her lips against your jaw, Naomi sucked the smallest marks into the soft skin there, happy to leaving her brand on you. When she reached your ear, the breathy whisper was the final piece to push you over the edge.

“Come for me, pretty girl.”

And eager to please, you did as you were told. Clamping down hard on her fingers, you felt yourself flood her hand as you cried out for her. Your back arched off the mattress, toes curling and muscles tensing against your will.

As you were coming back down, you knew you’d never come like that before. Looking at Mrs. Belfort’s face, you could tell by that grin that she was eager to see it as often as she could.

She brought her fingers up from between your legs, laying them against her tongue and sucking the wetness off with a filthy moan.

“I don’t think he heard that,” She sighed, shuffling down your body. “Think I’ll just have to give you another.”

#naomi lapaglia smut #naomi lapaglia x reader #naomi lapaglia x female reader #margot robbie smut #margot robbie x reader #margot robbie x female reader

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worldtourrampage · 2 years ago

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Lizzie’s Rampage! 🏙💥🦖♀️

CHAPTER TWO: Day 1 - Peoria, Illinois

⭐⭐ BREAKING NEWS ⭐⭐

Good evening. This is Nancy Scott with WBC, World Broadcasting Corporation. Tonight's top story is a world news report. I'm reporting live from Peoria, Illinois, covering the destruction of this midwestern city at the hands of three monsters; mutated human beings exposed to radiation from an explosion at the ScumLabs facility in Toxic Hollow, another Illinois town a short distance from here. I've been allowed to stay alive while reporting on the monsters, who are calling themselves George, Lizzie and Ralph, in exchange for documenting their destructive rampage across the state of Illinois, and soon, according to the monsters, the entire Earth! They think they'll be on the winning side of history against humanity's armed forces and wish to have their legacy documented for future generations. We'll have to wait and see whether this prediction of theirs comes true or not. Oh, one moment...yes...yes...okay...I’ve been notified just now by Lizzie that I am to start writing what she says down and post it to her blog, or...uh...I'll be digested without a second thought. *ahem* Well, on uh, that note...here is Lizzie's perspective on this path of destruction being carved through Illinois, and possibly your hometown soon...stay safe America...

⭐⭐ LIZZIE'S TAKE ⭐⭐

With Toxic Hollow a pile of smoking rubble, George, Ralph and I made our way to the nearby city of Peoria. It was our first step towards wiping out the state of Illinois, and someday the rest of the world! ScumLabs already did most of the work for us in Toxic Hollow with the lab explosion, but Peoria we dismantled with our bare hands from start to finish! In that sense, it was a rather significant chapter in our tour of destruction! Peoria was home to nearly 120,000 people before we showed up. That number plummeted after we had our fun!

While we there, we destroyed many homes in the suburbs and city buildings! One of them in particular caught my eye. It seemed to be some sort of video game development studio known as Game Refuge. I read the name off their sign before punching it to pieces! I wonder what kinds of video games they made...Well, it's no matter, they should have been making games about US, the MONSTERS! Maybe they'll learn their lesson now that all their precious game development equipment is a pile of scrap metal! Next time, make a game about US!!!

⭐⭐ FACT TIME! ⭐⭐

Nancy's not the only one that can do this job. CAMERAMAN!! Get my good side. I SAID MY GOOD SIDE!! There we go, you're capturing my beauty quite nicely now. Here are a few interesting facts about Peoria prior to its destruction beneath our feet!

📌 A war known as the Peoria War was fought by humans here during the War of 1812. It involved battles between Native American tribes and American settlers, and it lasted for about a month. Humans seem to fight and shed each other’s blood a lot. And somehow, we're the monsters? Why don't you humans look at yourselves in the mirror before criticizing us?

📌 Peoria is an archetype of midwestern American culture, so much so that the phrase "Will it play in Peoria?" has become something to say when questioning the mass appeal of things like stage plays, books, television shows and movies. Peoria is also commonly used as a filler town name for when one is needed in fictional stories. Well, I'll say this much; we certainly played in Peoria! And the only thing it's filled with now is the smoldering ruins of toppled buildings! Ha ha ha!

📌 Michael Jordan made his NBA debut with the Chicago Bulls in Peoria back in 1984. He was never cool enough to make it into Midway's NBA Jam, Hangtime, Showtime or Hoopz games though (The best basketball games ever! I would know. As a bit of a Midway star myself, (See? Told you I was a narcissist.) I know a thing or two about good video games, and Midway made a lot of them!). It's a shame he wasn't in Peoria when we destroyed it! I bet he would have made a nice meal.

⭐⭐ SCORE SHEET! ⭐⭐

For us monsters, destroying things is quite fun! In fact, George and Ralph started keeping score of their rampaging, so it's time I followed suit! Let's see if you can top this, boys. Dr. Veronica seems impressed! Ladies can total cities too, y'know!

Well, with Peoria wiped off the map, it's time for us three to make haste to the next city! You better have written everything down, Nancy. YES, I MEAN ALL OF IT. Don’t play games with me...where was I? Oh yes. Our hunger for RAMPAGE is insatiable!! I’ll see you all next time, when we destroy...

KANKAKEE, ILLINOIS!!!

#lizzie #female #lizard #dinosaur #rampage #rampage world tour #scumlabs #midway #game refuge #warner bros #fanfiction #peoria #illinois

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andromedasstarship · 4 years ago

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in the stars - chapter 4

photo credit - @ssa-emilyhotchner

pairing - aaron hotchner x reader

warnings - canon typical criminal minds, stalking, angst. pretty tame chapter

summary - “I’m on a date.” You responded flatly. The other end of the line went silent.

a/n - hi besties. so this chapter is p short compared to the last one, i had like 7k something chapter 4 and it just didnt feel right, BUT that means chapter 5 is basically done i just need to edit it soooooooooooo hopefully wont take a long time lol! enjoy, heart yall forever

masterlist // series masterlist // read it on ao3

chapter 3 / chapter 5

-----

The rest of the team was left in various levels of shock. Everyone was struggling to process the bomb of information that had just been revealed. With hindsight, it was easy to connect the strange levels of tension and intimacy that radiated between you and Hotch. What was more difficult to swallow, was the new understanding that Hotch had been keeping this secret for nearly five years. Random ‘trips’ that Hotch would take out of state or the subtle sprinkles of wealth showing up in the form of gifts suddenly made sense.

This was completely uncharted territory for the entire team. Given Hotch’s history, it wasn’t too difficult to understand how protective he may be of any relationships post-Haley; but the magnitude of your relationship- both in terms of your status as well as length-, and the withholding of information even on the case was a different form of betrayal that couldn’t be kicked under the rug.

Hotch had always been one of the fiercest advocates for unity, truth and an equal playing field when it came to information concerning a case,- Morgan was still feeling second hand embarrassment for Jordan- for him to be the one to hold back such influential info was difficult to fully wrap their heads around. Anger, of course, was felt and there would certainly be time for that anger- not even getting started on the amount of questions everyone was bound to have-, but as the team was silently processing, they all reached similar conclusions. Hotch was displaying a softness and side of him they hadn’t seen in a very long time and they wouldn’t let their valid frustrations get in the way of solving this case.

Morgan was the first to speak, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I need to text Garcia about this.” He said, shaking the phone a bit. Everyone managed to laugh at that, all certain that Garcia would have the most interesting reaction to the news.

“You know…, the other day when she was giving me a tour of her house, I pointed out a bottle of Dalmore 25 she had on the wall. She got really weird about it and I thought she was trying to play modest, but this, this makes a lot more sense.” JJ remarked lightheartedly.

“So now we know Hotch has some game then, huh?” Morgan quipped, a large grin on his face. When everyone just stared blankly back at him, even more confused than they already were he continued. “Do you all not remember when he ‘magically’ got a bottle of Dalmore 45, those start at twelve grand”

Reid was about to open his mouth and add to the conversation, but just as the words were leaving his mouth Hotch stormed back into the conference room. One hand was tightly balled in a fist while the other was gripping his phone.

“She’s not answering her phone. Three times, it went straight to voicemail.”

“She isn’t on set today, when she left this morning she told me she had work related errands to run.” Emily recounted, racking her brain for any more info about your whereabouts.

Hotch strode over to an open laptop at the edge of the table, quickly hitting a series of buttons until a very flustered Garcia appeared on screen; her mouth dropping open when she saw Hotch.

“Questions later Garcia,” Hotch opened, already anticipating that someone Derek would have informed her of the latest news, “I need you to track Y/N. I want her current and last location.”

“Yes sir! I uh, I will do that right now for you.” Garcia responded, clearly doing her best to hold back the hoard of questions and comments she had. The sound of her vigorously typing filled the room. “Alright sir, so the bad news is that it looks like her phone is currently turned off, but! The last place it pinged at was outside of Chateau Marmont about three hours ago. Which for those of you who don’t know this place is notorious for being the A-lister hideaway-”

“Garcia, do a wide search for her name and location for today’s date. Check to see if there’s been any media sightings on her whereabouts.” Hotch ordered. He hadn’t forgotten how uneasy it had made him once he found out how easy it was to locate you. Paparazzi were a different form of ruthless and he’d never realized how difficult it actually was for people in the spotlight until he met you.

“Let me see…, yes sir you are right! I’m getting a bunch of hits of her entering the-” Garcia’s sentence falling off with an ‘oh’.

“Garcia, what’d you find?”

A headline popped up on the screen.

“Emma Co-Stars Pictured Together Out At Lunch: Has The Love Moved Past The Screen?”

Underneath, multiple photos of you quickly loaded. There you were, cheerily standing next to your co-star, looking up at him with a big grin on your face. The photos showed the two of you in different positions as you made your way inside. A few of him as he opened the car door for you. One of you with your arm wrapped loosely around his while you walked up the door. One of you ducking under his arm as you entered the restaurant.

The tension in the room was palpable as everyone did their own mini attempt at profiling the photo. It was difficult, you’d clearly proven to be a great actress and they knew you were capable of manipulating your outward emotions. It was even more difficult considering it was just a handful of mediocre quality photos.

Hotch was tightly gripping the edge of the table, forcing himself to keep a level head. He knew it was unreasonable to get angry over the idea of you with another man, but it didn’t help the pang in his heart as he recognized the genuine signs of happiness you were emitting.

“JJ,” Hotch said, voice dangerously calm, “call the restaurant and have them discreetly tell Y/N that ‘Andi’ is calling her.” Discretion was the highest priority for him, the envelope being even further confirmation that the unsub was closely trailing you. The last thing he wanted to do was either trigger a violent reaction or cause him to go underground.

Back when the two of you had been together, out of an abundance of caution, you used to refer to Aaron as ‘Andi’ in public. You hated not being able to thank him in speeches or mention him in any capacity, so this had been your best way around it.

“Yes sir.” JJ responded, quickly moving out of the room to make the phone call.

“Garcia, do you have any leads on the kid that dropped off the envelope?” Hotch asked.

“No sir. The car he left in was reported stolen a few days ago with no leads as to where it went. Camera feeds loose the car about three blocks away and his face was too obstructed to get any hits that way.”

“Alright, once JJ comes back with confirmation Y/N’s gotten the message, I’m going to pick her up. I want the rest of you to work with Garcia and categorize these photos. Cross reference whatever you can to get a timeline.” Hotch ordered, the rest of the team not being to be told twice.

-----

“Where the hell are you?” Aaron demanded.

Even through the phone, you could tell he was absolutely seething. It was bad, by the time you had picked up the phone you’d amassed a total of twenty texts and nearly ten missed calls from Aaron; not even mentioning the individual missed calls you had from each member of the team. It was bad, but in your defense it had been less than an hour from the first missed call to your current response.

What could you say? You were big on not being on your phone when you were spending time with friends.

“What do you mean, where the hell am I,” you answered, rolling your eyes as you leaned up against one of the private bathroom countertops. “How did you describe it before Agent? I’m very in ‘demand’.”

You could hear him groan through the phone and wondered if he was running his hands over his face; something he used to always do when you were being difficult; he absolutely was.

“Y/N-”

“I’m on a date.” You responded flatly. The other end of the line went silent. As you were debating whether or not you should add the part about it being a publicity date, Aaron’s voice came through.

“End it. I’m picking you up. The drive there from the station shouldn’t be more than 30 minutes.” Aaron said, his voice dangerously even.

“I’m perfectly capable of getting back to the station on my own Agent. I don’t need you stirring up an absolute scene-”

“Y/N,” he started, voice commanding in a way that told you he was serious, “a package was delivered to the station today. Filled with hundreds of photos of you over the years,” he paused again and you could hear him take a deep breath before continuing, “there’s photos of us in there. The unsub knows.”

You went silent, mouth opening over and over, unable to find anything to say. You had always envisioned a world where you and Aaron were some sort of ‘public’ knowledge, but never like this, obviously never like this.

“Y/N, I need to come get you,” Hotch said, his voice much softer now, “I can’t-, I need to see that you’re safe.”

“I’ll make something up,” You said quickly, before adding, “there’s a private valet area, I’ll send you the instructions to get past the gates and I’ll let the security know you’re coming to pick me up.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes, don’t draw any attention to yourself.” And with that he hung up, leaving you stunned in the bathroom. You gripped the edges of the counter, staring at yourself in the mirror. You wished you could stay in the bathroom for hours, desperately needing some time to privately process what Aaron had told you.

That wasn’t in the cards for you though, so you quickly did some pointless attempts at ‘straightening’ your appearance- more for your benefit than anything else- before you turned the lock and left back for your table

You slipped back into your seat across from your friend and co-star Johnny.

“Your friend alright?” Johnny asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said with a small smile, “she’s fine. But my Agent called me when I was in there, she apparently managed to set up some last minute FBI consult to help me prep for an audition I have coming up. According to her, she ‘pulled a lot of strings for this’.” You said, rolling your eyes. The lie sliding out of your mouth with ease. “Whoever this FBI dude is, is supposed to come pick me up right about,” you looked down at your phone, “now apparently. So I guess our little date has to end early.” You said, giving him an exaggerated sad pout.

Johnny rolled his eyes at that, giving you a small laugh. The two of you were both equally uninterested, romantically, in each other. But you did get along quite well, so being ‘forced’ into hanging out with each other outside of filming wasn’t bad; you’d probably hang out outside of filming anyway

“No worries, we still on for running lines later tonight?” He asked.

You thought for a moment, before nodding. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Now, help me flag down the waiter, I want to get one last drink in before I go.”

-----

About twenty minutes later you found yourself waiting out in the private courtyard of the restaurant. You were doing your best to calm your nerves, this being the first opportunity you had to try and process what Aaron had told you. You should’ve seen it coming, if the stalker was so obsessed with you, he must’ve noticed Aaron in your life at some point. But you had been so careful.

Then the other obvious thing hit you. His team knew. You were wondering how the team had taken the news when you saw the black SUV come into view. Aaron quickly stopped the car in front of you and before you could move to open the passenger door yourself, he was out of his seat in a flash, coming over to where you were standing.

For a moment you were both silent. You felt tiny under his unrelenting gaze, his eyes scanning your entire being as he ensured himself you were okay.

Without thinking, you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist, ensnaring his arms tight to his side. As soon you realized what you did, you were internally kicking yourself, moving to loosen your arms nearly as fast as you had put them there.

“Aaron I-”

Before you could finish your attempted apology, Aaron had pulled his arms from under yours and repositioned them around you, pulling you tightly against him. Your head naturally fit perfectly under his and you took in a deep breath, letting his scent surround you. It was cliche, but you both were thinking about how perfectly your bodies melded against each other.

You felt his hand rest gently on the back of your head, gently stroking down your hair in a steady rhythm. “I got you.” He whispered, so quiet you nearly didn’t hear it.

You pulled your head back so you could look up at him. “I’m scared.” You said, admitting it aloud for the first time.

Aaron was staring hard down at you, his face soft. “I know,” he started, moving a piece of hair away from your face, “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, okay?”

You nodded at that, missing his warmth when he started to pull away from you. He kept a protective hand on your lower back, guiding you towards the passenger seat. He opened the door and helped you in, gently shutting the door behind you. As soon as your door was shut he wasted no time in getting in the driver's seat, starting the car up again. With a quick check to make sure your seatbelt clicked was in, Aaron peeled out of the parking lot.

A few floors above the courtyard, in one of the private hotel rooms, a curtain was angrily thrown shut.

-----

taglist - @mac99martin @iwaizumiee @kylorendrip @hqtchner @lieswithoutfairytales @ssahoodrathotchner @midsummernightdream @weasleylovers @evans-dejong @itsmytimetoodream @yoshigguk @28cnn @cuddlyklaus @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @yallgotkik @sunflowersandotherthings @averyhotchner @kimmy-k-k @uwu-sebastianstan

a/n- if youve asked to be on the taglist and dont see urself, please send another message! im really bad about putting people on my tag document lol, even if ive like responded in tumblr!!

no permission is given to copy or republish my writing on any other platform or account. if you see this story outside of my blog or my ao3 it is stolen work. i do not own nor claim to own criminal minds or any of the character involved in it.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner/you #aaron hotchner/reader #self insert fic #'stori talks #in the stars #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

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fromashescomephoenixes · 4 years ago

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Liquid Luck

author’s note: hey everyone! happy valentine’s day!!!! <3 <3 sending lots of love your way :) this is an extra special, lovey dovey, fluffy collab with @derrysdenbrough for valentine’s day.(go follow her right now!!) i hope you all enjoy it, and have a fantastic day filled with love whether that love is from yourself, your s/o, your family, etc...

word count: ~3000

summary: you’re a foreign exchange student and Bill Weasley offers to show you around Hogwarts!

****

Lifting myself off of the stoney floor, I find myself in a comfortable office filled with trinkets. The circular walls are covered with serious looking portraits, their eyes lit by the glow of the warm fireplace I recently fell out of. As I rise and brush myself off, I find myself face to face with a phoenix.

I stare into its eyes for a moment as they swirl in fiery embers of color, before I snap back to reality. It had been a long journey, and I would have an equally long day tomorrow given I was arriving mid term- on February 13th.

Turning towards the center of the room, I see a small group of people eagerly grinning towards me. I watched as the girl bobbed on the balls of her feet, and the boy stood, completely relaxed, with a welcoming stance.

“Ms. y/l/n, welcome to Hogwarts!” Albus Dumbledore’s voice greets me. I smiled, my nerves eased by the kind welcome that they had prepared.

“We are most pleased to have you here,” Mcgonagal nods towards me. After properly greeting both of them, I turn my attention to the two people my age, waiting to greet me.

“Oh my Godric! I’m so happy to meet you,” The dark brown, curly haired girl greeted me with a soft hug. Her russet brown skin seemed to radiate warmth as she pulled me into a kind hug. “I’m Anya, and it sounds like you’re in my house. So you’ll be seeing lots of me!” She smiled kindly and nodded towards the pale, freckled boy behind her, signalling for him to come up.

“G’day mate!” The boy said in an extremely poor Australian accent. His honey-gold eyes searched mine, hoping to see the laughing twinkle of his reflected in mind.

“Oh good evening dear chap!” I responded without missing a beat in an equally awful English accent. The red haired boy laughed and I couldn’t help but notice the deep brown flecked through his eyes. Almost like cinnamon.

“So, do you play quidditch?” The boy demanded, grinning still. I was about to respond with an affirmative, but I was cut off.

“Mr Weasley! Your name!” Mcgonagal snapped. I grinned, silently laughing at the situation.

“I’m Bill. Nice to meet you,” He held out his hand. Gently, I placed my small hand into his firm one, and shook.

“Y/n,” I responded.

“I’ll have to show you around sometime y/n.” Bill grinned.

“And I’ll have to show you to our dorm!” Anya exclaimed, taking your arm. “You’re a Hufflepuff, right?” I nodded, remembering Professor Mcgonagal’s brief trip to Koolangka, the Australian wizarding school, to sort me. The strange hat was very different to the process at Koolangka, but seemed to work nonetheless.

“Right-o,” I grinned, enjoying the way my words stood out slightly. We hurried through the castle as Anya explained the basics of what I needed to know to me. By the time we reached the basement, I was nearly asleep on my feet.

The soft golden bedding seemed all together much to inviting, and I slept as soon as my head hit the pillow.

****

I woke up to four girls standing over me, and I yelped in surprise, causing them to step back slightly.

“You’re y/n, right? I’m Amelia Abbott,” A brown haired girl began talking, and proceeded to point at the rest of the Hufflepuff’s. “That’s Ella Finch-Fletchey, that’s Caroline Jordan, and this is Teresa Burk.” She finished, and I waved at the girls in turn.

“Nice to meet you all!” I said as I hopped out of bed, and Teresa instantly took my arm.

“Anya told us you and Bill Weasley hit it off. He hardly ever speaks to girls, but that’s because we’re always drooling over him.” She said, and her blonde locks swung as she spoke.

“He’s nice, I guess.” I said, albeit uncertainly, and the rest of the Hufflepuff’s giggled.

“We can’t wait for you to date!” Ella chattered, and Caroline shook her head.

“You’re scaring her, the poor thing. We’ll let you get changed and meet you down at the common room, you must be starving!” The four girls were off in a whirl as Caroline herded them out, and I shot her a grateful smile.

As the room stilled, I took a deep breath. I was really here, at Hogwarts, in the badger’s sett, the place I finally belonged.

I took my time putting on my Hufflepuff robes, the cheery yellow making me smile. With that smile came the thought of Bill Weasley’s blue eyes, and the odd feeling I had had around him.

“Y/n!” A voice that sounded like Ella called from the common room, and I did a final stroke of the hairbrush through my hair.

“Coming!” I called, and I set the hairbrush down as I looked in the mirror.

I was ready.

The group of girls led me down the hallway, occasionally pausing their giggling and teasing of each other to point out important land marks:

“And that’s where Ella snogged Simon Brown!” Teresa grinned as she pointed towards a particularly large statue of a goblin. Ella slugged Teresa's arm in a friendly manner, and Teresa stuck her tongue out before we continued to move on.

“Oh my! That’s where those third years got in a fight about quidditch last week,” Caroline nudged me, although I doubted whether or not this information would come in useful later.

Finally we reached the great hall, and made our ways to the hufflepuff table. I eagerly searched for some vegemite on toast, or a Ned Kelly pie. But I was sadly disappointed as my friends explained neither of those things exist in England. Instead, Ella plonked a bowl of oatmeal onto my plate.

“Dig in,” she winked. I sighed, resigning myself to the warm slop on my plate. It could be worse I reckon: she could have given me scrambled eggs.

I’m shaken from my silent contemplation of the evils of scrambled eggs by none other than Bill Weasley himself.

“Top of the mornin’” Bill greets in an exaggerated English accent this time.

“Merlin, am I ever going to here your real accent?” I try to look annoyed before slipping into a smile.

“Ay. That depends,” he attempts a Scottish accent this time. I suppose it’s a running joke at this point.

“On what?” I raise an eyebrow, while reaching for my juice. Upon doing so, I realise all five of my new friends are eagerly drinking up this juicy interaction.

“I was hoping to show you around,” he begins looking slightly nervous. I notice he has begun to twist his wand between his strong fingers. I nod reassuringly and he continues.

“But I’m busy with head boy duties and all, so we might have to break curfew...” I nearly leap at the adventure, but pause contemplating. Would it really be a good idea to risk being caught breaking rules already?

“It would be an adventure,” he suggests, smiling while his eyes toil with excitement.

“Well, you’ll have to make it worth my time...” I smirk slightly. He grabs my hand and shakes it eagerly.

“Just you wait y/n!”

****

I go through the rest of the day eagerly curious for what Bill has in store for my grand tour of Hogwarts.

Although, I can’t tell who is more excited for it: me or the five girls who have discussed the breakfast occurrence at least seven times by now.

“Come on, Y/n! At least promise us you’ll snog his tonsils out!” Ella begged, and I whipped my head round to stare at her. We were currently lounging in the common room, with Amelia checking the time every five minutes.

“He’s showing me around the castle, not planning to pull me into an abandoned classroom!” I squealed, and the girls squealed alongside me, eager at the thought.

"Well he'll have to pull you into an abandoned classroom if he's going to give you a full tour!" Teresa laughed, teasing me.

Luckily, we were finally in our last class of the day. Which we happened to have with the Gryffindors.

“Please partner up!” Professor Mcgonagal announces. “We shall be practically applying our skills at transfiguring human features.” She pauses to allow the buzzing students to partner up. I turn around to see Teresa and Caroline looking apologetically towards me. I face the other way and find Ella and Anya in the same situation.

“Maybe we could have a group of three?” Caroline offers, sounding thoroughly unconvinced of Mcgonagal’s enthusiasm for the idea.

“No need!” Bill grins as he swaggers our way, and leans against my desk. “Partners?” I grin as a slight blush creeps up my neck. Biting my lip I nod and let him brush my hand to guide me across the room.

“Please only transfigure your partner with human features!” Mcgonagal reminds us, and I shiver slightly as I remember the time my brother was transfigured into a part-human part- platypus form last year.

“So, are you much good at transfiguration?” Bill asks conversationally. I take a moment to answer, concentrating on the transfiguration I’ll be attempting.

I decide to give him a beard, perhaps slightly inspired by Dumbledore’s. I flicked my wand in a short line, and smirked as a fiery red beard grew. Unfortunately, I made it slightly shorter than anticipated and...

Fuck. He looked hot with a beard. He raised an eyebrow. “So I’ll take that as a yes?” I giggled.

“Sure,” I admitted. We spent the rest of class firing spells back and forth until I had abnormally long pink hair, with large sapphire eyes. Bill was sporting equally vivid green locks with some slightly scary purple eyes. And a beard of the previously desired length.

Our laughter echoed through the hallway on our way to the great hall. Just before walking into the hall, Bill threw his arm around me as he laughed particularly hard.

The moment was broken as he glanced at his watch, and frowned.

“I’ll pick you up tonight. Some time close to midnight,” he shouted as he walked away. I watched as he walked in a relaxed manner down the halls. Although, I raised my eyebrow as I watched him take a small sip of a strangely sparkling substance.

We were still sat in the common room at 12 o’clock, and there had been no sign of Bill Weasley.

“Maybe he forgot?” Caroline murmured, and Teresa bit her lip as she shook her head slightly.

“We ought to be off to bed, I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation. Filch might have caught him!” She said, and everyone nodded.

“Come on, bed time!” Ella began herding everyone off to bed, and I numbly followed. I wasn’t quite sure what to think after Bill’s no-show, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it now.

Tap, tap

I woke up out of my light sleep with a start. My owl, Goldie, usually only delivered in the mornings. I took a moment to rub my eyes and nearly tumbled out of bed as I saw that it wasn't in fact my owl, but rather a certain Bill Weasley. Throwing open the window, I tried to keep my voice down so I wouldn't wake anyone else.

"Bill? Why and how are you hovering outside my dorm window?" I asked, sleep thick in my voice.

"I'm here for your tour, pretty girl.” I blushed as he called me pretty, knowing I was anything but with my messy hair and bright pink pajamas. "You might want a jacket though," he frowned, gesturing to the frigid, snowy air.

I quickly pulled on my favorite denim jacket, and some leggings. Then, I went back to the window.

"A broom?" I took in the sight of his fairly muscular form on the broom, and noticed a golden, knowing sparkle in his eyes. As if whatever happened, he was one step ahead of me.

"You seem like the type to play quidditch," he shrugged. I grinned, rejoicing at the chance to get back on a broom after all this time.

"You were right," I slid out of the window into the slightly snow covered roof. Wrapping my arms around Bill's waist I let his warmth bleed into my freezing skin. Somehow this felt so right.

"You're warm," I mumbled. I only realised after I spoke how awkward this sounded, but Bill simply smiled and cast a warming charm over me.

"Bet you didn't have much use for those in Australia?" If only he knew how windy my city had been. Although he was right, I never learned a proper warming charm at school.

“Not so much. We spent hours on cooling charms though.” Just like that, I replaced Bill’s warming charm with a cooling one, and he yelped in surprise.

“Y/n!” He shouted into the night’s air, and I laughed as I clutched his waist tighter. It was gone as soon as I cast it, and Bill’s warming charm once again encased us.

“So I’ve been thinking, Y/n. Why’d you come to Hogwarts at the end of January? School term starts in September, you know?” He asked, and I peered down to see that we were circling the quidditch pitch.

“Well my old school, Koolangka, has school from the end of January to mid-December, and every ten weeks we got to go home for two. Every Australian school’s like that, probably because we’re superior.” I said, and Bill turned his head over his shoulder to grin before facing the front of the broom again.

“Say, did you have the sorting hat in Australia?” He asked, and I shook my head before realising he couldn’t quite see me.

“Not exactly. Australia still has the four houses, but instead they’re focussed on air, fire, water and earth. Caeli is Latin for air, ignis for fire, aqua for water, and terra for earth. We have a boomerang that assists in sorting us, and we just have to throw it as fair as we can. Whatever colour it returns covered in is our house.” I explained, and it wasn’t until I finished that I realised how boring it sounded.

“That sounds awesome! I’ve always wanted to go to Australia, but my mum is obsessed with Egypt, so I doubt I’ll get to go.” Bill sounded a bit sad, so I took a leap of faith.

“It’s awesome, Bill! I can show you all the secret spots, and we can visit Numisma, the Australian wizard school.” I said nervously, but I shouldn’t have worried.

“I’d really like that. I might land here on the pitch.” Bill soared down, and I laughed excitedly as we reached the grass.

My feet crunched into the frosty ground, and I spread my arms out as I breathed in the chilly air.

"Imagine playing here," I closed my eyes and pictured the stadium seats full of young witches and wizards, and the sky filled with brooms. Bill saw me and added in background cheering. I laughed and turned towards him. He grinned, seeing my smile.

"Is this used for anything other than quidditch?" I asked, thinking that this huge space couldn't possibly be used only for quidditch.

"The only other thing held here is the 7th year ball," Bill explained. Instantly my vision of the stadium filled with quidditch fans shifted to a beautifully lit dance floor, filled with laughter and lovely dress robes.

"A ball!" I exclaimed enthusiastically. "Is it very formal?" I felt concerned, realizing I had no idea how to waltz, or swing, or foxtrot or anything...

"No, no. It's not really anything to worry about." He saw my distress, but then his face lit up. "Although I could teach you a few moves," He offered as he extended his hand. I placed my hand gently in his, and let him pull me towards him.

Lumos Maxima Bill whispered, and then whispered another soft spell to play a quiet waltz throughout the stadium.

Slowly and gracefully I let Bill lead me through the steps. Gradually we sped up, and I stopped stepping on his feet so much. His light charm faded, and soon our faces were only illuminated by the stars as we spun and stepped across the cool grass.

Eventually the music came to an end, but I stayed in my dancing position still.

"You're very beautiful," He blushed, glancing away and sticking his hands into his jean pockets. I smiled, although I'm sure I blushed slightly as well. "I er- I just mean..." he stammered a bit.

"The Bill Weasley? Nervous about talking to me?" I teased, and he blushed even redder.

"Well, you see it is Valentine's day," he smiled slightly, and I blushed a little. "And I just thought you might, maybe-" He took a deep breath and collected himself. "Perhaps you would want to go to Hogsmeade with me?" I beamed at him. Despite only knowing Bill for a day or two, I could tell that he was the kind of guy I wanted to know better.

"Of course!" I smiled, and hugged him. His arms wrapped around me, and I breathed in the slightly salty sea air smell about him. "Just one question," I looked up, and he gazed with concern towards me.

"Where's Hogsmeade?" We laughed, and he closed the slight gap to kiss me lightly.

He tasted like the dancing love of liquid luck.

#harry potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #bill weasley #weasley #bill x reader #bill weasley x y/n #bill weasley x reader #collab #hp collab #hp fanfic #HP Fandom #HP #valentine's #harry potter valentine

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acciomalfoy · 4 years ago

Text

liquid luck (bill weasley x reader)

summary: reader is an exchange student that draws the attention of bill weasley just in time for valentines day

a/n: another collab with @fromashescomephoenixes yall already know the drill go follow her she is an incredible author as well as person!

I stare into it's eyes for a moment as they swirl in fiery embers of color, before I snap back to reality. It had been a long journey, and I would have an equally long day tomorrow given I was arriving mid term- on February 13th.

“Ms. y/l/n, welcome to Hogwarts!” Albus Dumbledore’s voice greets me. I smiled, my nerves eased by the kind welcome that they had prepared.

“We are most pleased to have you here,” Mcgonagal nods towards me. After properly greeting both of them, I turn my attention to the two people my age, waiting to greet me.

“G’day mate!” The boy said in an extremely poor Australian accent. His honey-gold eyes searched mine, hoping to see the laughing twinkle of his reflected in mind.

“So, do you play quidditch?” The boy demanded, grinning still. I was about to respond with an affirmative, but I was cut off.

“Mr Weasley! Your name!” Mcgonagal snapped. I grinned, silently laughing at the situation.

“I’m Bill. Nice to meet you,” He held out his hand. Gently, I placed my small hand into his firm one, and shook.

“Y/n,” I responded.

“I’ll have to show you around sometime y/n.” Bill grinned.

The soft golden bedding seemed all together much to inviting, and I slept as soon as my head hit the pillow.

•••

I woke up to four girls standing over me, and I yelped in surprise, causing them to step back slightly.

“You’re y/n, right? I’m Amelia Abbott,” A brown haired girl began talking, and proceeded to point at the rest of the Hufflepuff’s. “That’s Ella Finch-Fletchey, that’s Caroline Jordan, and this is Teresa Berg.” She finished, and I waved at the girls in turn.