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gutsby · 3 months

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Finders Keepers

Pairing: bfd!Joel x Reader

Summary: Something about the sun in Cabo San Lucas and your best friend’s father’s sweaty body makes you a horny mess. When you find an old pink shirt of his lying around, you really can’t resist. When Mr. Miller finds you humping a pillow and moaning his name, neither can he.

Warnings: 18+. No plot, just porn! Age gap, size kink, praise kink, masturbation, unprotected p-in-v, choking, and a healthy dose of Daddy!Joel. Yes, I need to be locked away in a cage for how feral this man makes me.

A heatstroke would be a kindness in these conditions.

Seeing your best friend’s father frolicking around on the beach with his broad, bare chest on display, skin coated with sweat, and his swim trunks worn so tight you could practically taste the outline of his bulge with every step? That had been your own personal hell for the past hour.

Naturally, you’d had to fake a dehydrated spell and slip off to your villa for some much-needed sexual relief.

“Damn you, Mr. Miller,” you cursed, crawling across the bed with your fingers about to snake between your legs, “Why won’t you just pin me down and fuck me stupid?”

You knew the answer as well as anyone else that this man was totally off-limits—being your best friend’s dad and twice your age and all—but that wouldn’t stop you from touching yourself to the thought just the same.

The bottom half of your bikini was brushed crudely to the side as your fingers worked a furious circuit around your clit. Your hips bucked, head throbbed, insides churned with a fire you couldn’t even begin to describe, and all you could picture was Joel Miller lying there, eyes trained on you as he slotted himself between your legs and fucked you hard enough to break the bed in two.

You slipped your hand beneath a pillow, gripped the sheets under there in a fist, and closed your eyes. Then you yanked the fabric between your fingers and felt somewhat confused—and surprised.

When you looked to your left and lifted the pillow, you saw an odd pink fabric in your hand. You let it go and saw that it was a t-shirt. A big one.

No fucking way.

You would recognize that soft, heady, sandalwood scent anywhere.

It was Mr. Miller’s shirt.

You buried your nose in the material and inhaled as much of that sweet, delectable DILF as you could manage. Wanting him in you, on you, surrounding you completely with his scent so you could pretend he was there in that king-sized bed with you.

Before you could think, you threw the shirt on and grabbed the nearest pillow.

Fuck, you felt crazy. But by God, you were free.

You straddled the cushion between your thighs and rubbed your barely-clad cunt over the seam, whimpering to no one and nothing in particular. You closed your eyes and dragged your hips along that spot, humping it again and again, imagining it was Mr. Miller’s fat, throbbing member instead of a pillow and felt a rush.

“Oh, Joel— oh daddy, fuck me, please.”

You threw your head back and felt every bit the loud and obnoxious porn star as you rode to your heart’s content.

Your hand clamped down on the headboard and anchored your body in place, allowing you to grind your hips even harder. The sensation was crazy—nowhere near as insane as Mr. Miller’s own cock, you reckoned, but good enough—and the longer you rutted your lower half against that pillow, the closer you got to climax.

“I’m so fucking close, want you to cum all inside me.”

With one more protracted, lewd moan, you squeezed your legs together and were about to reach your release, when a sound at the far end of the room almost sent you, your pink t-shirt, and pillow flying off the bed in a panic.

Glass shattered on the ground. You tried desperately to throw the covers over your body and hide yourself.

To your horror, you saw a wide-eyed, petrified Joel Miller standing at the threshold of the room—holding a bottle of ibuprofen and, just seconds before, a cup of water.

The red-faced father of two turned as though he were about to leave, then, reconsidering why he had come up there in the first place, decided to try and play it cool.

“I…brought you some Advil,” he announced, awkward as a cow on roller skates.

You sat up and forced a smile. Tried to pretend like you weren’t just balls deep in a fantasy of him bending you over a table and railing you raw and senseless.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The two of you languished in the world’s longest, and most uncomfortable beat of silence, before Joel’s gaze presently fell to your chest. He couldn’t help himself.

“Is that my shirt?”

You glanced down. You could try and lie, maybe save face in one desperate, last-ditch effort.

“Yeah. It just, uh…smelled,” you said instead.

What the fuck was wrong with you?! Surely the Mai Tais hadn’t been that strong to make you act so fucking dumb. But then again, this was your lizard brain talking, and there was no telling how weird you could get around a man as handsome as Mr. Miller. It was humiliating.

To your surprise, your friend’s father just raised his brows and smiled. A bit strained and uncertain, to be sure, but at least he hadn’t fled the room. You watched as his eyes trailed down the length of your body and stopped somewhere around the hem of his shirt, where the fabric gave way to your soft, bare legs. You couldn’t work out if he was intrigued or simply amused. Derisive, even.

Fortunately for you, you didn’t have to stew on those thoughts for much longer, because Joel tossed the pill bottle to the side and made his way over to the bed.

Out of shock—and utter disbelief—you leapt back on the mattress and tried to make distance, but damn if Mr. Miller didn’t have some speed in those old bones. He easily snagged your ankle in one hand and dragged your body back to his. In the process, his oversized tee rolled up over your tummy and exposed your lower half to him, leaving you at an angle you never thought he’d see.

“So I smell?” he murmured, braving a hand up your thigh.

You actually wanted to die. In a good way.

You quickly recollected yourself and shook your head.

“No! No. Not at all, Mr. Miller, I just…I liked it a lot, actually,” you stammered, tensing when his fingers started to trace the skin of your thigh a little higher.

“How much?” Joel asked. This time he almost looked stern as he watched you react to his hand making its way to your heat. Particularly when he rubbed the pad of his thumb over your flimsy bikini bottom.

You couldn’t hope to hide the yelp that crept up your throat when he did. You’d just been humping a pillow, a half a breath away from orgasm, when he’d interrupted. Your whole body was sensitive, to say the least.

At length, Joel made circles with his thumb and watched you squirm when he brought his touch under your panties. He hummed, feeling you drenched between your legs.

“Oh, darlin’, this is awful,” he frowned.

You swallowed a whimper and raised your gaze to him.

“W-what? What’s awful?”

Right before he answered, Mr. Miller sank two fingers inside you, prodding them gently between your soft, fleshy walls and eliciting the softest of moans from you.

“How needy this sweet little thing is for me,” he tsked, curling his fingers to bring about an even louder sound, “How pathetic and wet and horny you’ve been getting for a dirty old man like me. Must hurt somethin’ terrible.”

He had you there. You were greedy and needy and soaking the sheets like you never had before, dripping more arousal the longer he pumped his fingers in and out of you. You watched Joel’s expression change, and suddenly he was retracting his hand and bringing it down to his shorts. Those tight, bright red, bulge-teasing swim trunks that had been driving you buckwild earlier.

His erection was considerably bigger now, swollen with desire and leaping out of his shorts the second he yanked down the fabric.

“I can make that hurt go away, honey. Just lay still.”

Were you a victim of the world’s most vivid, lust-filled lucid dream of all time or was this actually happening? You almost couldn’t believe when the strings of your bikini were loosened and your pussy laid bare before him, shortly met with the throbbing head of his cock.

“You do want me to get rid of that funny feeling, right?”

You almost snapped your neck nodding so fast.

Mr. Joel Miller was going to take care of you—make that terrible, tingling ache go away with his dick.

Before you had a chance to prepare, the man was pushing himself inside you. Searing your walls with that thick, veiny member you’d just been dreaming of before. You couldn’t believe how full you felt, how fantastic he smelled, how overwhelmingly present he was to make you feel as good as you could.

His thumb was back at your clit, pressing light as a feather as he wedged his cock further inside you.

“C’mon, honey, let daddy in,” he murmured low, close to your ear as he sank his length between your folds, “Let me make you feel good.”

You whimpered and grasped at his shoulders, legs wrapping tight around his waist like a vice.

“Feel better than you expected?” Joel smirked.

“Yes, daddy. So fucking good,” you groaned when you felt his pubic bone brush your own. His thumb kept working your bundle of nerves as his hips began to stir.

“How long have you been touching yourself to me, hm?”

His question was simple enough but the hardest for you to answer in your present condition, Joel’s thrusts just beginning to pick up the pace. His balls slapped lightly against your ass, and his whole frame enveloped you in bed, shaking the frame with every stroke he gave you.

“Since— since the day I met you,” you managed in a breath. That breath melded quickly to a strangled moan when Joel seized hold of the base of your throat.

“That long and you never asked me to help out, darlin’?” his voice was almost taunting, his thrusts growing faster.

In no time at all, he was slamming into you full-force, hand still wrapped around your neck and lips curled into a smile. He’d never say it aloud, but he’d been dreaming about you too, as long as he could remember, from the very first day his daughter had introduced you to him.

It was wrong—he knew it just as well as you did.

But that didn’t change the fact of how good you felt wrapped around him, taking every inch of his cock as he pounded you into the bed.

“You’ll promise—” he paused to drive the head of his cock to your cervix and make you whine underneath him, “—to tell me, next time you have one of these feelings?”

“I will. I-I promise,” you whimpered.

“Good girl.” Joel kissed the crown of your head before he went back to fucking you rough.

You were almost embarrassed to say it was happening this fast, but that hot, euphoric feeling was building up inside you. You clamped your bottom lip between your teeth and willed it not to happen—not to make a mess of Mr. Miller’s cock so soon—but the sensation was stronger than you. And Joel saw it, too.

“Is my good girl gonna cum for me?” he grunted.

When you started to answer, you felt his fingers make their way to your mouth and push sharply past your lips. Made you suck his index and middle fingers as he fucked you and had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

And, to your surprise, he kept talking you through it.

“Keep fucking me, honey, keep milking this cock. You’ve made it this far—might as well cum all over me, huh?”

He looked cocky and self-assured—the same old Mr. Miller that you’d come to know and love. Only this time, he was helping you through an orgasm, all stretched out over his member and desperate for release. You dug your heels in the small of his back and sucked his fingers even harder, nodding your head when he told you to cum for daddy, cum all over this cock.

It was arguably one of the best orgasms of your life, getting pounded hard and fast while Mr. Miller groaned above you and shot his own load deep inside you. Unlike before, with that pillow wedged between your thighs, you actually screamed from the pleasure, bit down on the man’s fingers and bounced back and forth as you rode out your high in a firestorm of fervor and bliss.

In short, you were fucked-out and happier than ever.

Joel collapsed beside you, seemingly feeling the same.

You weren’t sure how long you laid there, or when those smug, cunning features first appeared on his face, but suddenly he was up—propped beside you with a smile.

That handsome, grinning bastard trailed a finger to your neckline and tugged at the neon pink fabric of his shirt.

“So…when can I have this back?”

#joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller x you

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corroded-hellfire · 1 month

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Older Eddie freaking out when she tells him she’s pregnant. He gets worried he won’t be able to be there for them in ways he wants to and tries to run. But he sees the ultrasound picture and breaks down and goes back to his girl

Confused older!eddie, you still that dumb boy we all love

Words: 1k

I’m pregnant.

The words run through Eddie’s head again and again as he lies next to your sleeping form. The sound of your soft, slow breathing is the only noise in the trailer, but Eddie can hardly hear it over the beat of his pulse pounding in his ears.

He’s glad you’re able to sleep because God knows he’s the farthest thing from sleepy. Pregnant. Eddie’s starting to think he can see the word scrawled across the shadowy ceiling he’s been staring at for the past three hours.

You’ll be 52 when the kid is born, Munson, Eddie thinks to himself. Which means you’ll be 70 when he or she graduates high school. Well, at least 70 if the kid follows in my footsteps when it comes to education. Heaving a quiet sigh, Eddie tilts his head to the side to look at you. He watches the easy rise and fall of your shoulders with each gentle breath.

There’s a sudden sense of panic climbing up Eddie’s chest and it feels like an iron hand clamps around his throat. You deserve so much more than this, he thinks. You deserve to have someone your own age, who can be there for you longer than I’ll be able to.

Unable to bear the thought of you having to take care of your child and an aging Eddie, he pushes himself out of the bed and stalks out of the bedroom.

2:02 am the neon green numbers on the microwave remind Eddie as he steps into the kitchen. He runs his hands through his salt and pepper curls and begins to pace back and forth in the small space. The two of you had never talked about having kids. Obviously, what was between you was serious and you were both in it for the long haul. Maybe one of you should’ve brought up the subject but it was too damn late now, Eddie mused.

“Jesus,” Eddie says as he rests his hands on the back of a kitchen chair and hangs his head. “People are going to think I’m her dad and the baby’s fucking grandpa.”

The tightness in his chest returns tenfold as he imagines you calmly explaining to people their mistake, like you don’t mind it one bit. But Eddie knows it would bother you after a while and it would ignite embarrassment in him every single time. The same thoughts would spiral around his head that hadn’t been present since the two of you first started going out: she can do better; you’re too old for her; it’s selfish when you’re going to die at least twenty years before her.

The shame is too much. Eddie’s nails dig into the wood of the chair as his jaw tightens. Before he can think better of it, he heads towards the front door, where his boots are settled next to. He shoves them on and doesn’t bother to tighten or tie the laces. The keys to his truck hang on the hook next to his leather jacket, but the sight of the jacket only reminds him that he isn’t wearing a shirt.

“Fuck.” Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose. If he walks back into the bedroom to grab a shirt, he knows he’ll see you, sleeping there like the beautiful angel you are, and fall into your arms. But leaving is what’s best for you…isn’t it? “Get it together, Munson.”

Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm down as much as he can, Eddie remembers seeing a sweatshirt hanging on the chair next to the one he was leaning on in the kitchen. It’s an effort to walk across the floorboards of the trailer in such heavy boots without causing a piercing squeak, so Eddie practically tiptoes his way. Calloused fingers snag on the worn gray cotton of the sweatshirt and snatch it up. In his haste, the sleeve of material knocks a few pieces of mail onto the floor.

“Shit,” Eddie mutters. He bends down on creaky knees to pick up the envelopes that bear both your and his names. At the very bottom of the pile, there’s a thinner piece of paper that had gotten mixed in with the mail.

A slightly trembling hand raises the grainy black-and-white picture to eye level. Even if the lightning weren’t so scarce, the moonlight shining through the window over the sink its only source, Eddie would need to squint to see the image clearly. The small fuzzy bean in the middle of the sonogram has Eddie falling back onto his ass, tears filling his eyes as he stares at the picture of his child. His baby. Your baby.

Fat tears begin to roll down Eddie’s cheeks and he brings his free hand up to cover his mouth. How could he be so stupid? How could he even consider leaving? Leaving you? Leaving this innocent baby? No, he knows with complete certainty that would be the biggest mistake he’d ever make. So worried about the amount of time that he’d have with you that he was about to throw away the best thing that ever happened to him. And who’s to say someone younger would have more time with you? The next day isn’t promised for anyone, no matter the age.

Eddie puts the sonogram back on the table and is quick to scramble out of his boots, kicking them beneath the chairs to be dealt with in the morning. Both his leather jacket and sweatshirt get tossed on the couch in his haste out of the kitchen, into the hallway, and back down to your shared room.

When he enters, you’re sleeping on your other side now, so he’s able to see your face. Letting his eyes roam over your beauty, more tears begin to fall. He roughly wipes off his cheeks with his rough palms before climbing into bed with you. Though you look so peaceful asleep and tucked in the blankets, Eddie can’t help but slide in as close to you as possible and wrap you up in his arms. A small, sleepy murmur tumbles from your lips as you snuggle up to your boyfriend.

“Everythin’ ‘kay, Eds?” you mumble as you lift your head and rest it on his bare chest.

Eddie nods as he holds you even tighter against his body.

“Mhmm, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head, a smile breaking through at the way you cling to him. “Everything’s great.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #older!eddie #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #request

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heizlut · 2 months

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Praise kink for kazu? <3

he’s my lil baby, definitely a soft dom for sure that would give you endless praises🥲:

Sweet Little Angel

cw: none, this is cute as hell

tags: shy sub fem!reader, soft dom!kazuha, (also lowkey possessive!kazuha), praise kink, mostly proofread

nsfw under the cut

m!list here

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You were a shy little thing, always clinging to your boyfriend like he could protect you from everything (and he damn well will try his best to do so!). Kazuha loved you, loved everything about you. Especially the way you clutched his arm while you walked or when you’d subtly hide yourself behind him as he socialized with others. You were just too cute for your own good.

Kazuha had recently returned from travelling on the Alcor and made his way to your quaint home in Inazuma. Once you saw him walking up to your home, you practically flew out the door and into his arms making him laugh. You both stayed in each other's arms for a moment before he pulls away first and holds out a wrapped gift and smiles sweetly, "I brought something back for you from Liyue." Your face lights up and you beam at him, pressing little kisses all over his face.

Once inside your home, you unwrap his gift to you, letting the patterned paper flutter to the floor. You pause when you hold up the most beautiful red silk cheongsam-style dress, intricately patterned with golden swirls and leaves. Kazuha sits there smiling as he takes in your reaction but tilts his head slightly when he sees your eyebrows furrow, "Is there something wrong with it, angel?" You study the dress, focused on the cutout that would show off your cleavage and how short the hem of the dress actually was. Your eyes move to Kazuha, "Can I really wear this?" Kazuha looks a little confused but smiles anyways, "Of course, it's for you. Go on, put it on for me."

You peek your head out from behind the bedroom door, cheeks bright red as Kazuha gives you an encouraging soft smile, "Come out. Let me see." You hold your breath as you come out in the beautiful dress, nervous to be wearing something so gorgeous...yet revealing in the right places. Kazuha's breath catches in his throat when he sees you, his vermillion eyes trail down your body. His eyes linger on the little circular cut out in the chest that exposes your cleavage, "Oh, angel... Turn around for me. I want a full view." The blush on your cheeks refuses to go away as you do a slow turn for him. Shit, the dress hugged your curves and your ass so perfectly; the hem sitting pretty on your upper-mid thighs.

"Come here...", Kazuha's words were soft but laced with lust and he holds his hands out to you. You walk over to him and he places his hands on your waist, "Such a pretty angel... Let me take out you in this." You almost choke on absolutely nothing, "In this dress?" Your mind floods with everything that might go wrong if you wore this out, feeling way too shy to wear something like this while walking around Inazuma, "But what if I ruin it, Kazu..." Kazuha's hands slip from your waist and into your hands, "Don't worry about hypotheticals, just let me take you out." He presses his lips to the tops of your hands. You finally relent. Kazuha was just too sweet to deny.

Clutching at his arm as you both walk through Inazuma City, you feel so aware of yourself. You felt the eyes of passersby staring at you and Kazuha was most certainly aware. A surge of pride runs through him that you're on his arm looking the way you do; that you're all his and no one else's. Your confidence was only boosted when Ogura Mio, the lovely woman who ran Ogura Textiles & Kimono's gushed over your dress saying the material, the intricate pattern, and the way it fit you was simply divine. More eyes fell on you when you walked with more confidence instead of leaning into Kazuha's body.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from you when you walked up to Tomoko, the street vendor, and began chatting away, using your little boost in confidence to spur you on. Kazuha was quick to catch Tomoko's eyes wandering down your figure and that bright smile that he flashed you when he told you that he was also offering tri-color dango that day. You smile happily when Tomoko hands you the stick of tri-color dango and you bounce as you excitedly turn back to where Kazuha was standing. Kazuha's affectionate gaze falls on you as you walk back to him, hips swaying and all. Did you know how sexy you looked?

"Got everything you wanted?", Kazuha asks in his usual soft tone. "Mhm!", you express with a cute grin on your face. He hums in acknowledgement and wraps his arm around your waist as you continue to walk. A little crumb of dango sticks to the corner of your lip and Kazuha chuckles, pointing by his own lips to let you know you had a little something. Your cheeks heat up and you giggle, swiping your thumb on the spot then bringing it to your lips, sucking the crumb off your finger.

His cock stirs to life in his pants at the promiscuous action you just pulled with such a doe-eyed look on your face and in that sexy little dress no less..., "Let's go home, angel." You pout a little, "But I was just starting to have fun being out..." Kazuha takes your free hand, "I have something more fun for the both of us at home." You look a little confused because he hadn't brought anything else home with him besides the dress he had gifted you, but you let him lead you home.

As soon as the door shuts, his hands are all over you and he kisses the corner of your lips, down your jaw, and to your neck. You suck in a breath as your fingers tangle in his soft white hair, "Kazu..." He sucks at your neck, leaving a dark hickey in its place as he groans against your skin, "You're too pretty...too cute and sweet..." He trails off as he sucks another mark closer to your collarbone now, "You don't realize what you do to me, angel..." Kazuha's voice was husky as his breath fans over your sensitive skin.

Kazuha presses a hasty kiss to your sweet tasting lips, the flavor of the dango you ate earlier lingered there. He licks his lips as he steps back and starts removing his clothes, tossing them off somewhere in the room, he didn't care at the moment. Your pupils dilate as you watch in awe of the beautiful man in front of you and your hands reach around to the back of your dress, fumbling for the buttons. But Kazuha clicks his tongue, halting your movements, "Keep it on. You look so beautiful wearing my gift."

Arousal pools between your legs, wetting the cute white pair of panties you had put on earlier today. You squeal when Kazuha picks you up and places you on the bed. His vermillion eyes sparkling with affection and desire for you and only you. He crawls up on top of you, kissing you slow but with a heated passion. Kazuha moves down and carefully lifts the dress up to your waist, revealing your cute soaked panties. You whimper his name when he drags the material down your legs and tosses them to the floor, "Be still for me, angel. Let me taste how sweet you are..."

A high-pitched moan falls from your lips as his tongue drags up your wet slit. Kazuha groans against your clit, unable to help himself as he grinds his cock into the mattress at the taste of you alone. He laps at your juices as if he was a starved man, tongue flicking at your clit and prodding your pulsating entrance. Your thighs squeeze around his head as you come undone with the most beautiful noises. Kazuha makes you whimper when he drags his tongue against your entrance, overstimulating you, "You did so well for me, pretty girl. You're always so good for me..."

Kazuha doesn't bother to wipe the sticky slick mess from his lips and chin as he moves up again, capturing you lips in his in a hungry kiss. His tongue licks at your bottom lip, begging for entrance, to which you grant. You part your lips, letting his tongue dance with yours, tasting traces of your own arousal. Kazuha's leaking cock rubs against your pussy; his upper body brushing up against the smooth, silky fabric of your dress. The feeling was overwhelming him, making his mind go blank. He looks deep into your eyes, both sharing a loving and heated gaze. You speak first, your words coming out in little pants of breath, "I want to feel you inside me, Kazu..."

He felt his eyes glaze over at your words and the look on your face and he releases a shaky breath, "Anything for you, angel..." It doesn't take much effort for the fat head of his cock to breach your entrance, making both of you suck in a harsh breath. He's the one that whimpers when he sheathes himself fully inside of you warm, wet walls that flutter around his cock. You wrap your arms around his neck as you look up at him with so much need. Kazuha catches your gaze and whispers sweetly, "Gonna move now, alright?" Your lips part slightly as you nod, "Uh-huh..."

Your expression twists to one of deep pleasure as Kazuha fucks you slow and deep. The drag of his cock in your tight pussy had you seeing stars as his name falls from your lips like a desperate prayer. He does his best to keep quiet as he grunts and moans while your cunt squeezes him so perfectly, wanting to hear each noise you make for him. He simply cannot get enough of you, not daring to tear his eyes away for risk of missing every little expression you make.

Kazuha is mesmerized by you, the way you moan his name, they way the gifted dress bunches at your waist, the way you cling to him desperately as he fucks into you at a sensual pace, and the way your hair is splayed out across the pillow. His heart felt like it could explode with the love he has for you, "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes on. As if you descended directly from Celestia and right into my arms... A beautiful angel taking my cock so well..." Your lips form a lazy smile, finding it cute that his poetic nature remained with him even during such a sinful act. Your smile turns to an "O" and your eyebrows knit together as he hits that spot deep inside of you.

Kazuha feels his end coming near, but he wasn't about to finish before making you cum one more. His thumb moves to your sensitive clit, rubbing frantic circles as he pants above you, his thrusts getting more sloppy, "Cum for me, angel. Let me hear you pretty moans..." Your vision goes white as you arch your back off the mattress, letting out a cry of pleasure as you release all over his length. "That's it, pretty girl... Fuckfuckfuck-", Kazuha almost collapses on top of you as ropes of cum spill inside of you. His cock throbs to the beat of his racing heart as he stills inside of you. He presses his forehead to yours, eyes locked on each other and your heart swells with the way he looks at you, "You did so well for me. My sweet little angel. I love you..."

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a/n: got myself in my own feelings with this one🥹

#kazuha smut #kazuha x reader smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #kazuha x reader #genshin kazuha #genshin impact kazuha

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peachie-bumblebee · 9 months

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Hiii your nsfw headcanons for FNAF SB was INTENSE. IT WAS SOMETHING I WASNT READY FOR LMAO

So i was wondering can you do nsfw headcanons for Sun/Moon too?

HOLY SHIT! My first ask on this account- I LOVE receiving asks on anything and everything- from comments to requests! As for your ask- of course love <3

NSFW SUN/MOON HEADCANONS

MINORS DNI

did i kinda snap with this one?? y’all let me know :))

CW: OBSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, SOMNOPHILIA, MILD EXHIBITIONISM, CHOKING

SUN

FUCKING BRACE YOURSELF!

oh no. oh nonononono. if he’s set his eyes on you you’re kind of in trouble because he-

he fucks like a rabbit. he’s the type to practically crawl on top of his partner and beg to fuck them.

as for his sex style? fast. i don’t think he knows how to take it slow.

he will rut his partner into the goddamn floor, breathing heavy and endless thank-you’s spilling out of his mouth

he’s absolutely insane over it. he’d be drooling if he could.

he’s the type who can’t keep his hands off his partner. if you came to visit him and y’all were alone he’s immediately snaking his hands down your hips and pressing his erection into your ass.

he can’t give head cuz he doesn’t have a tONGUE but you best believe that if he could he’d be down like a damn dog about it.

i’m thinking about them long ass fingers YEOOOUCH

if his partner worked overnight at the pizzaplex and needed to take a shower his spidey senses would fucking go off

you’d turn around and his fingers would be curled around the door opening like

“Can I come in? Please say yes. I’ll leave you alone if you want but please please if you’re okay please let me in please. Please.”

he can’t help himself. Pussy/Bussy drunk ass motherfucker.

FASCINATED by fingering his partners. He loves watching them slide in and out with a PASSION. If they left a mess on them he’d nearly die and go to heaven. I swear to god.

let’s be so fucking fr I know for a fact he’d like to be called a Good boy. It’d kill him.

worships the ground you walk on. Fucks like he’s trying to win the gold medal of making you feel good. Please tell him you did.

he can go forever. He doesn’t seem to get satisfied at all. If it was up to him he’d fuck until he straight up absolutely had to get charged.

literally he’ll fuck until his partner either taps out or (consensually ofc)

YEAH HE WHIMPERS. WHAT ABOUT IT.

call him out on it and it gets worse. he’ll tell you that he can’t help it- he can’t.

it’s a orange to yellow gradient with a flushed pink-orange tip. long and skinny. i was solid on this before and i’m solid on it now.

for those who are wondering NO i don’t think any of the animatronics have metal genitalia. think dildo/fleshlight material that gets warm.

he definitely jerks off into some of your clothes if you left them there for him. if you caught him he would be embarrassed but ALSO- if you want him to keep going he’s willing.

more than willing, even.

MOON

ALSO BRACE YOURSELF.

if sun fucks like a rabid animal who can’t keep his mouth shut, moon fucks hard and mostly silently. it’s almost spooky.

he likes to watch. he likes to observe.

he’d fuck his partner from behind with a hand over their mouth, hard and medium paced. but fuck it’s hard.

silently watching his partner’s eyes roll back, hissing through his teeth at the feeling of them clenching down- only one or two words ever coming out.

“Slut.”

“Good.”

you get the picture.

WITH prior consent (everything, and I mean EVERYTHING I write includes consent) he’d watch you sleep.

and jerk off over your sleeping body.

he won’t leave a mess, don’t worry.

…unless you’d like that.

if he knew you wanted it, he’d push a finger slowly in while you slept and work it in and out, careful to keep you slumbering

if you woke up, he’d hush you and tell you to go back to sleep.

he won’t stop though.

both of them are jealous creatures. but moon especially so. if something makes him jealous then it’s absolute brutal thrusts down into his partner with their legs up around his shoulder. maybe choking them out.

don’t worry though. he knows his strength.

he’s 100% the type to silently overstimulate his partner. you could be begging and sobbing and covered in your own fluids and he wouldn’t stop unless you safeworded.

dick is pale blue to white gradient with a pink flushed tip

he doesn’t even make much of a sound when he cums. he just hisses through his teeth.

ooooh if he feels like you like sun more? oh no. oh no you’re done for. he’s gonna prove why he’s the best. it’s gonna be a problem.

a problem you enjoy but STILL

remember: he’s always watching.

always.

I HOPE YALL ENJOYED! please comment, reblog w comments, and request!!! it really motivates me <3

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reiding-writing · 4 months

Note

Ok hear me out read is an art professor and she invites the team to come to a showcase she planned for her student and the whole night is filled with her and her student laughing with each other and her fawning over her students and Spencer is in awe at the relationships she’s built while teaching

(Sorry for the long ask🤍)

favours [ s.r ]

Summary:

You’re in the final preparations for your students’ art exhibition, all you need now is as many people to attend as possible, leading you straight to your fellow professor and major mild work crush, Dr. Spencer Reid, to ask him for a personal favour.

WARNINGS: n/a

pairing: professor!spencer x fem!professor!reader

genre: fluff, two pining idiots in love

wc: 3.5k

masterlist!!

a/n: did i hyperfixate on this request bc it was so damn cute and proceed to write the whole thing in one sitting instead of over multiple days like i usually would? yes, yes i did.

thank you for requesting <33 the idea that someone genuinely thinks my writing is good enough to specifically want to read more of it makes me cry happy tears inside

Three days.

Three days until your class’ art exhibition, scouted by some of the most profound Art Directors in the country.

It was incredibly important, and you were pulling every string you could to make sure that your students got the absolute best results from it.

You’d asked almost everyone you knew to be in attendance, hoping that the more people who attended the exhibition, the more likely the scouts were to pick up your students from the amount of attention their pieces were getting.

That’s what lead you here. Stood outside of Dr. Spencer Reid’s office.

You had always been fascinated with his roots as an FBI Agent, not to mention his overwhelming intelligence in every subject you could possibly think of.

You can vividly recall the first time you met almost a year ago, and how he talked your ear off for almost an hour about the intricacies of the print of Monet’s ‘Woman with a parasol’ hung up in your office.

How it was actually a painting of Monet’s wife and son that he’d painted to capture one sunny and slightly windy day that they’d spent as a family.

How Monet helped create the genre of impressionism paintings through his works in the early 1860’s.

How oil paints were, and continue to be, some of the most widely used mediums due to its sheer versatility, and how easy its materials were to find.

And you explicitly remember how you questioned how this man wasn’t at all educated in the fine arts despite knowing so much about it.

You give three short knocks on Spencer’s office door, praying that he wasn’t currently in a lecture or busy with something else.

“Come in,” You give an internal sigh of relief at his voice on the other side of the door, pushing it open and peeking your head inside first before entering and closing the door behind you,

“Oh,” Spencer blinked up at you as you entered, clearly not having expected it to be you, but his expression showing that he wasn’t disappointed that it was you either. “Are you alright?”

“I need a favour,” You cut straight to the point as you walk across his office, noting the copy of Vincent Van Gogh’s biography on his desk as you pull out the chair on it’s opposite side, it definitely not being something he’d usually read on his breaks.

That’s something you’d remembered about him. As much as Spencer Reid could talk for hours on practically any subject you could possibly think of, he was not one for small talk.

Spencer raised an eyebrow at you slightly. “A favour?”

You nod with a slightly pleading expression, silently begging him to accept before you even ask him the question. “So my students have their final exhibition this Saturday and it’s being scouted by some really important people and I really want it to go perfectly for them so I’m trying to rally as many people to attend as possible because popularity means attention and attention means a higher likelihood of getting scouted-”

You fall into a ramble of a tangent, only stopping when you’d physically couldn’t keep going due to a lack of oxygen, taking a sharp breath in through your nose.

“Long story short, I am practically begging you to come. You can bring anybody you want, you can bring everybody you know if you want to.” You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, your eyes desperately pleading with him to humour you. “I just really want this to go well,”

Spencer almost melted at your expression. You were clearly very passionate about your students and their futures and the expression on your face made any resolve for him spending his Saturday night curled up in his study like he usually would fly straight out of the window. “What time should I be there?”

Your shoulder’s visibly relax at his question, and you reach a hand across his desk to grasp at his, giving it a small squeeze. “Oh my god thank you you have no idea to much this means to me,”

Spencer mourns the loss of your hand on his as soon as you pull it back into your lap.

“The exhibition starts at six, but I want to give my class a test run of what the experience will be like before they’re actually bombarded so could I ask you to be there for around five-thirty?”

“Five-thirty is perfect,” His tone matches his expression, soft, pure, and completely willing to help you out with whatever you ask of him.

“I really owe you one for this, thank you so much Dr. Reid,” You sing Spencer’s praises in your head as you stand, clasping your hands together as you make a mental reminder to pay him back later.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“You’re down bad huh?”

He’d expected Morgan’s teasing, but that didn’t mean that his cheeks didn’t flush red at the comment. “She’s just a friend Morgan,”

“Just a friend my ass,” Morgan rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t that new episode of Doctor Who come out tomorrow, at six o’clock? You know, the one you’v e been raving about for the last two weeks about not wanting to miss?”

He couldn’t really deny deny that. He had been going on about wanting to watch that new episode, and how he wouldn’t miss it for the world. Yet here he was, declaring to the team that he was going to be spending his Saturday evening at a university art exhibition instead.“I can record it and watch it when I get home,”

“Mhm, sureee lover,” Spencer rolled his eyes with a small sigh at Morgan’s tone, beginning to regret his request for the team to accompany him. “Are you going to come or not?”

“Oh I’ll be there alright,” Morgan gave Spencer a sharp pat on the shoulder as he vacated to the kitchenette, and Spencer glanced towards JJ and Emily who both served him a short nod and knowing glances.

He was doing this for you. He could endure some teasing from his team. It’d be fine.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

He noticed you before you noticed him, kneeling on the floor behind one of your students pieces to adjust the angle of the standing light so it would best show off the painting’s vibrant colours. You’d always had an eye for details like that.

He didn’t notice the unconscious smile that breached his features as his eyes landed on you, but Morgan definitely did.

“Ooh, look at you all blushing and smiling,” Morgan elbowed Spencer in the side lightly, to which Spencer cleared his throat and subconsciously adjusted his shirt collar, straightening his features out once more. “Shut up Morgan…”

“It’s the pretty lady with the skirt right?” Garcia leaned up on her toes to look over Spencer’s shoulder as you got up from your kneeling position, floor length skirt swaying loosely with your movement as you walked around the canvas to see if the change in lighting had made a difference.

Spencer had to consciously suppress a sigh. Maybe bringing the team here to witness him silently fawn over you was not the best idea. “Yes, she’s- the one with the skirt,”

He rubbed that palm of his hand down his face, turning to the group. “Stay here, i’ll be back in a minute,”

He gave them a glance as he made his way over to you, silently warning them to behave themselves like they were a group of children in a sweet shop.

“Hey,”

You turn on your heels at the sound of Spencer’s voice, your skirt twirling with you as your eyes first land on Spencer’s chest before looking up towards his face. “You’re here, oh thank god,”

You take his arm and pull him to stand beside you, turning his body to look at the canvas. “Do you think the lighting is right? Or is it still too shadowed on the bottom right hand corner?”

Spencer’s mind goes completely blank as you physically move him to where you want him to be, caught up on the warmth of your hand on his arm rather than your question. “It uh…”

He takes a second to recompose himself as he stares at the canvas in front of him, an array of vibrant coloured dots arranged in the vague silhouette of an autumnal park. “It looks perfect to me,”

Your nod indicates he gave the right answer. “Good, okay, that’s good,” You tap your hand against his arm for a second, biting the inside of your cheek as you analyse it for a few moments more.

“I uh- brought some friends with me-” Spencer nods towards the team with his head. “Well- they’re technically my co-workers but i’d still say they’re friends-”

Your eyes follow Spencer’s nod towards the six people gathered by the entrance, greeted immediately by a wave of smiles, and you mirror them with your own as you look back at Spencer again. “You are a literal god among men,”

You give his arm a squeeze before breaking into a half jog towards his team to introduce yourself, leaving Spencer to follow you with his eyes as he tried to hide the blush covering his cheeks.

“Hi, it’s a pleasure to meet you all, I hope i’m not interrupting too much of your Saturday night,” You won’t lie and say you’re not nervous to meet them, especially considering Spencer had mentioned the group being his co-workers and therefore FBI Agents, but you keep a positive expression on your face nonetheless.

“Oh don’t be silly, this is probably the most exciting Saturday night any of us have had in a while,” The petite blonde woman at the front of the group waves off your concern with a small laugh, one that you mirror with a small sigh of relief.

A few short introductions later, you send the group on their own personal missions, each set with a printed out sheet of paper containing various questions about the art pieces to ask your students, hoping to prepare them for the inevitable onslaught they would endure when the exhibit opened in 18 minutes.

18 minutes.

The glance at the clock hung on the wall reminds you of your time constraint as you eye the hall for any of your students in need of help.

Sure enough you find yourself repositioning a line of clay pottery whilst one of your students adjusts the small carpet under column they’re perched on to make sure they don’t fall off balance and accidentally shatter before the doors open, caught in pleasant conversation as you explain the best way for the glazing to gloss in the light.

“You really are down bad aren’t you?” Morgan’s voice interrupted Spencer’s unapologetic staring in your direction, and he sighs as he turned to give Morgan a pointed glare.

“Oh come on Reid, it’s so obvious,” Spencer has half the mind to stuff the sheet of paper in his hand in Morgan’s mouth to get him to stop talking.

“She likes you too you know,” Both Morgan and Spencer turn in tandem towards the new voice, one of your students who’d incidentally overheard the conversation as he focused on hanging up a black backdrop behind his full-body sculpture. “She talks about you in class all the time,”

Spencer’s cheeks automatically blush a dark shade of red at the revelation, not at all helped by the muffled chuckles coming from Morgan. “She’s sketched you a bunch too, she uses them as examples in our realism classes,”

Spencer thinks he might implode in this moment. You’ve talked about him in your classes? You’ve drawn him and shown them in your classes?

“Apparently your hair is perfect and she really likes the shape of your nose,” The student shrugs, only half invested in his own explanation as he staples the black fabric to the wall.

Spencer subconsciously brings his hand up to the bridge of his nose, tracing his fingers down it as he imagines what else you might’ve said without him knowing.

“Ooh, looks like the lover boy’s got a chance,” Spencer nearly does stuff his paper in Morgan’s mouth at that statement, pushing his arm as he shook his head, only causing Morgan to laugh further.

“Five minutes guys! Pack everything that you’re not using away! Remember, your art is your baby, treat it like it’s the most important thing to ever exist, and don’t forget to compliment your own abilities!”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“You’ve really got your whole heart in this haven’t you?” Spencer catches you mildly off guard as you lovingly watch your students promote their art pieces to the viewers of the exhibition from afar.

“Why wouldn’t I?” You chuckle softly at the question, turning your head slightly to look at him standing next to you. “I find no greater achievement in life that watching aspiring artists take their shot. Especially if i’m the one who’s had the pleasure of guiding them.”

“It’s really sweet of you to put so much of yourself into helping your students, i’m sure they’re all really appreciative,” Spencer could read the love you had for your students all over your face, and it only served to drown him deeper in his adoration for you.

To see someone put so much time, so much effort, so much love, into something that they ultimately had no benefit in was really admirable, and it was one of the things that he’d come to adore about your character.

It wasn’t just the fact that your hair shone in the overhead lighting, or the fact that you smiled like an angel sent down from the heavens. It wasn’t the lingering touches between you when you’d spend time together or the fact that you’d gone out of your way to read one of his favourite books during your lunch breaks so that you’d have something to talk about.

It was just you. You as a person. Even your flaws were flawless and he couldn’t understand how it was physically possible for someone to be so… perfect.

“Do you really like the shape of my nose?” The comfortable silence between you is broken by Spencer’s question, the words falling out of his mouth before he has time to think them over.

“Wh- I-” You immediately fall into a state of mild panic, your features flushed and your eyes darting around the hall as you attempt to maintain your composure. “How did- Who told you that?”

“I uh…” Spencer mirrors you in his flusteredness, internally punching himself for allowing the question to leave his mouth. “One of your students did… With the sculpture-”

He half-points in the direction of the full-body sculpture, a small semi-circle of people surrounding it as they examine the art and talk to your student about it, and you purse your lips as you make a mental promise to yourself to out the plethora of sketches he’d made of his classmate at his graduation as payback.

“You- have a very drawable face,” You nod exaggeratedly as if it was going to get you out of the conversation, although Spencer’s apparent obliviousness rendered that strategy useless.

“..Drawable?” His eyebrows furrowed slightly, leaving small wrinkles above the bridge of his nose and casting his eyelids in a small shadow that you would die to take a picture of and recreate in charcoal.

“Uh, yeah, drawable, you’re an easy person to draw,” You shrug slightly, trying to offset your awkwardness as nonchalance, as if you drawing Spencer whilst he was bent over a book in the lunch room was a totally normal thing for anyone to do. “You’ve got nice facial features…”

You will yourself to stop talking because you know if you continue you’ll end up saying something that throws you right in the deep end and you’ll never mentally recover.

“Oh-” Spencer’s face flushes further if that’s even possible, a beautiful rose colour painting his cheeks that would make an absolutely perfect art piece. “Thank you-”

“No problem-” The two of you fall into a slightly awkward silence after that, and you find momentary solace in watching one of your students fall into what seems like an enrapturing conversation with one of the scouting directors about the nature of her painting.

“Hey uh- Dr. Reid,” You tear your eyes away from the exhibition and back towards Spencer again, surrendering to the inevitability of you having to push your way through the awkwardness between you if you wanted to continue your conversation with him. Which you did. Very much. “I’m uh- sorry if I made you uncomfortable by sketching you without your permission, that wasn’t my intention at all,”

“Oh- no it’s completely fine-” Spencer waved a hand in front of him as if to wave away all of your worries. “It’s really flattering actually,”

His sentence was joined by a small laugh as he raked his fingers through the curls at the base of his neck, the curls covering the inside of your most prized sketchpad. “And you don’t have to call me Dr. Reid all the time, Spencer is perfectly fine,”

He offered you a soft smile that made your heart flutter, and you find yourself only capable of responding with a nod, unable to form a coherent string of words in your head.

“Maybe you can show me them some time,”

You blink up at him for a second before you realise he’s talking about the sketches. “Oh, uh, they’re not very good-”

“I’ve seen some of your pieces, you’re incredible,” Spencer shakes his head at your assessment of your drawings. “’Don’t forget to compliment your own abilities’, it’d be a little hypocritical to tell your students that and then downplay your own don’t you think?”

You mentally curse his judgement as you’re reminded of his eidetic memory, something you’d found entirely fascinating when he’d first explained it to you.

“That’s not fair-” You let out a small laugh of exasperation, tucking your hair behind your ear.

Spencer smiles at your internal panic, and he decides now is a good of a time as ever to just make the leap. He liked you, and he was fairly certain that you liked him too.

“Do you remember saying you ‘owe me one’ a few days ago when you first asked me to attend the exhibit? If you show me your sketches we can call it even,” Spencer’s eyes trailed over every one of your features as your micro-expressions changed whilst you deliberated the question.

“And whilst we’re at it, maybe we can- go and get coffee together or something…” Spencer tried to ignore the pounding of his heart against his chest as he extended his proposal, and your eyes immediately flicker up to his as he finishes speaking.

“Like- a date?”

“If you’d like it to be…” The two of you were both horribly flustered by now, both of you practically radiating your emotions for each other.

“I- Yeah… I’d like that,” You smile that gorgeous, perfect smile up at him and he swears his heart melts into a puddle at the sight.

“Perfect..”

Thank god for mutual favours.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #mgg #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #asks 🫶

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justauthoring · 3 months

Text

naturally [7]

you fit into their little family perfectly - naturally. -> in which you have a little surprise for nanami

a/n: honestly this is really short and not my best, but i just wanted to get something out while i had the chance (school has been kicking me in the ass dudes and it's only been two weeks :()

pairing: nanami kento x f!reader

“Trust me, he’ll love it.”

That’s what your friend had said, a sly smile on her face as she handed the box into your awaiting hands.

The same box that laid on your lap now, taunting you.

In it was a light, pale blue babydoll set with matching panties; the bralette was lace and transparent with a silk bow in the middle that connected to the skirt that was made of a sheer flowy material. You’d yet to try it on but your friend had assured you it would fit you perfectly without a doubt.

It was your fault really. When you’d told her it was Nanami’s birthday coming up, she’d practically dragged you all the way to the mall, never once letting you steer in the other direction from the lingerie shop she was certain would hold the perfect birthday gift for Nanami.

That gift, basically, in a roundabout way, being you.

And so, you’d bought it, letting her distract you from the worries in your mind because really, Nanami had never really expressed any interest in this sort of thing. It wasn’t like a lingerie set was all that scandalous, but Nanami wasn’t very sexual in any sort of way. Yes, the two of you had been intimate with one another and it wasn’t like he’d made you feel ugly — rather, he spent most of his time complimenting you, making you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

But that’s just… he seemed happy with just having you and not much more than that. You’d bought a cute bra and underwear for him before, but this just felt… like a lot. Too much, rather.

Would he be weirded out by it?

What if he thought it was tacky?

Your hands are shaking before you even realize it, taking another glance at the clock, frowning when you realize he’ll be home soon. Yuji was out for the evening at a sleepover, and Nanami had expressed his excitement at the fact that the two of you would be home alone after he was done at work, emphasizing on the alone part. You’d known what that meant nd the idea had appeared in your mind before you’d been able to stop it;

This was the perfect opportunity to wear it.

But you just couldn’t force yourself to put it in, your insecurities and worries making you think of the worst.

You knew Nanami loved you. Hell, the two of you were getting married in a few months… and you knew he thought you were beautiful. It didn’t take a genius to see that given the way he looked at you or the way he’d whisper the words to you every morning before he left for work. You knew all of this, and you knew even if it ended up being something he didn’t enjoy, he’d never make you feel silly or ugly or too much for it…

You knew this. And yet, everything in your mind screamed otherwise.

“He’ll love it.”

Taking a sharp breath, you steel yourself. You’re being silly. You bought the damn thing, you might as well try to get some use out of it…

Taking the thin material in your hands, you stand, slipping out of the pajamas you’d been dressed in and replacing it with the babydoll. The material feels foreign on your skin and there’s a sense of vulnerability that swallows you as you stand there in the bedroom with only it on. You gaze at yourself from the mirror, taking in everything, pulling the material every-which-way to make sure it’s on perfectly.

Before you know it, you hear the familiar sound of the front door opening and shutting, telling you you’d stood in the same spot for way too long. Grabbing your robe off of the bed, you quickly wrap it around yourself, covering the lingerie beneath as you make your way out into the kitchen just as Nanami calls out for you.

“Oh,” he smiles when he sees you, turning to face you. “There you are.”

Biting back your nerves, you return his smile with ease, happy to see him after a day apart, crossing the distance over to him and moving to press a kiss against his cheek. “I missed you, Kento,” you hum out softly, cupping his cheek as you lean back to meet his gaze. “How was your day?”

“Good,” he nods with ease. “Better now that I’m home. Did Yuji get Suguru and Satoru’s easily?”

“Yes,” you reassure. “Suguru came and picked him up at the daycare, and he assured me they’d take good care of him for us tonight.”

Nodding, Nanami steps back, slowly letting his hands fall from your waist as he moves towards the fridge. “Have you eaten already?” He asks over his shoulder, “I was thinking we could order in tonight. I’m too tired to make dinner and–”

“Kento?”

Pausing at your call of his name, Nanami leans back from the ridge, meeting your eyes. He frowns when he sees the look of apprehension on your face, concern flooding his gaze. “Is everything okay, baby?” He calls out with a soft hum.

You nod, holding your hand out towards him with your palm turned up.

He glances at you, then the hand, before letting his fall in yours.

“Come with me?” You whisper, “I have a surprise.”

He looks confused, brows furrowing as he pauses, but despite his apprehension, he otherwise obliged, letting you lead him back down the hall and in the direction of the bedroom. He doesn’t fight you, even as you reach the room, pulling your hand from his and turn to shut the bedroom door.

Then, when you stand there for a moment, he can’t help but ask; “baby? What’s wrong?”

You inhale sharply, eyes falling to the rie of your robe, forcing your hands up to pull the tie apart, feeling the robe loosen around you before you shrug it off your shoulders, letting it fall to a pool at your ankles.

Nanami lets out a sharp gasp, and ignoring the way your chest tightens in worry, you turn, moving to face him.

His eyes fall on yours, then drift lower, flickering across your body and the lingerie set, before flickering back up to your eyes.

“I bought it for you,” you whisper, fighting the urge to cover your body with your arms, hands twitching by your sides. “For your birthday. I… I thought maybe you’d like it…”

Nanami’s lips part, but no words leave his lips. He is still, silent, the silence thickening around you and swallowing you whole. The anxiety eats at you, positive he’s hating what he’s seeing and that he thinks you're tacky or shameful…

“But if you don’t like it,” you start to ramble, unable to stop the words from leaving your lips. “I-I understand. And I can just take it–”

“No, no,” Nanami rushes out, blinking, as if snapping out of his own stupor. He takes a step towards you, hand held out towards him, “no, Y/N–baby… like it? I…” He hesitates and you feel yourself freeze, before a smile curls across his lips and he’s closing the distance between you. “I love it. You look beautiful.”

Lips parting, you reach for him, setting your hand on his hips as you meet his eyes. “You.. you really think so? You like it?”

“Oh God, Y/N, you look amazing,” he breathes, words breathless as he lets his eyes drift across you once more. He takes it all in, every inch, the way the lace looks on your skin, the way it hugs your body, the bare skin… Nanami can barely handle it, his eyes mesmerized by the sight in front of him, unable to look away. “I can’t keep my eyes off of you…”

Feeling your cheeks warm, you grip his shirt tighter. “It’s all for you, Kento,” you whisper, “just for you.”

He lets out a groan, taking you by the waist and tugging you against him so your chest is pressed against his own, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“I want you, baby,” he groans, “please… please, let me have you.”

“I’m yours,” you assure, nodding at him as you chase his lips. “All yours… your birthday present, baby. I’m completely yours.”

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami fluff

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leighsartworks216 · 7 months

Note

Prompt for whenever you want it: the reader grew up in a household where she wasn't allowed to be very feminine/like cute things. Her family was adamant that she be tough and that anything remotely feminine or pretty would be wasted on her. So she secretly likes cute and pretty things, but has internalized all the things her family told her so she never let's it show. I would love to see astarion pick up on it and how he would react? I just imagined one day he presents her with a delicate handkerchief with her initials (he embroidered them himself) and I practically bawled my eyes out 😭😭😭

Idk why I really struggled to write this one. I just had a hard time starting it. So I'd write an opening, hate it, leave it for a bit, come back, leave it again. But I finally got it to a point that I am happy with it

Astarion x fem!Tav/Reader

Warnings: vague references to trauma, self-doubt, swearing

Word Count: 1,041

Main Masterlist

Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

One gets quite good at reading people when that’s all you did for 200 years. Someone would twitch and Astarion could know exactly what they were thinking. Reading you was as easy as opening a book.

Every time you passed a market or merchant, Astarion could see the way your eyes flit longingly over jewelry or dresses. It was always brief. If the vendor noticed, they’d try pitching the item to you; the same old lines: “A beautiful necklace for a beautiful lady!” But you just smiled politely and shook your head, muttering how it wasn’t your style.

It was curious. Throughout your journey so far, he’d noticed other things, too. How you’d save the most beautiful, feminine dresses for your female companions. At first he just thought you wanted to give them something nice, but it was odd when you’d provide them an item much more suited to your strengths than their own. How your eyes would linger a little longer on flowers and lace gloves. But the moment you felt eyes on you, you’d turn away, the distant longing gleam in your eye replaced with a set determination.

He’d even caught you staring at the embroidery on his clothes once or twice.

(“Distracted, are we?”

“I was only wondering what it says. An odd poem for a shirt.”

“Hmph. Clearly it’s meaning is lost on you, darling.”)

So, with 200 years of experience, Astarion came to the only conclusion he could plausibly find. He accounted for your own attire - masculine or purely functional - your steadfast avoidance of anything feminine, the sorrow that visibly washed over you when you came across something particularly beautiful.

You didn’t allow yourself these things, because you couldn’t.

Well, you could, he supposed. But you weren’t. Perhaps, like him, you felt you didn’t deserve it. Or perhaps, like him, it had been ingrained into your very being that you couldn’t have it. Either way, the result was the same.

He wasn’t honestly sure what came over him when he realized. And it had taken him a few days to think about the idea that formulated unbidden, itching at the back of his mind in a way that put the tadpole to shame. But one night, after feeding (on you and a boar), he sat within his tent and got to work. He threaded the eyes of needles with practiced ease, steadily guided it back and forth through the material in his hands, creating elegant shapes. If he was being honest, it was some of his best work.

It took him even longer to gather the nerves to give it to you. You handed out gifts freely - armor, weapons, trinkets, blood. But he’d… well, he’d never really given anyone a gift before. Nothing as genuine as this, certainly. His mind, his own worst enemy aside from Cazador, kept plaguing him with thoughts of how you’d hate it. How you’d take one look at it, struggle through a smile, and tuck it away at the bottom of your bag. And so it remained in his belongings, safely hidden.

And then you just had to go and be so damn good. You just had to stand up to Araj Oblodra when she kept insisting he drink from her. You just had to quietly tell him that he could, if he wanted to, but only if he wanted to. And you just had to respect his choice. He’d never been so overwhelmed with emotion before. Nobody had ever done that for him. His choices didn’t matter, his comfort didn’t matter. But you didn’t even hesitate.

When you sought him out at camp later that night, you even told him he was free. No longer a slave who had to get on his back for mere breadcrumbs. Too many emotions - relief, fear, euphoria, worry, gratefulness - flooded his chest.

He cleared his throat. “There’s actually something I’ve been meaning to give you,” he admits with a nervous chuckle. “Consider it a… thanks, for what you did for me back there.”

He pulled the neat, white handkerchief from his pocket and presented it to you. Red eyes flit over your face, trying to read every little expression that passed, as you stared at the cloth. On the corner, embroidered in the same golden thread as he used on his shirt, were your initials. Immaculate and shiny.

Your mouth opened. Your eyes were wide, your brow furrowed and then raised. You struggled for words. You met his eyes with shock. “A-Are you sure? I mean, this is much too fine for me - I was happy to stand up for you - Not that you needed any help! I mean-”

“Darling,” he hushed. So you did enjoy it, after all. “It’s a gift. Consider it repayment for all the nights you’ve bared your neck for me, if nothing else. A simple exchange.”

A dying sound left your throat with a breath as you looked back down at the handkerchief. With shaky hands, you took it from him. You held it as though it was a religious artifact from the gods, not a folded square of soft silk with lace borders. It had the same smooth feel as running your fingers over the surface of still water. Tears welled at the corner of your eyes as you ran a thumb over the letters.

“I…” You took a shaky breath, looking up at him again through the building water in your eyes. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much it means to me.”

He smirked, though your blatant joy made his lips twitch into the start of a genuine smile. “You… deserve something nice. Something more than, well,” he gestured vaguely at your worn cotton attire, “this.”

You laughed and brushed away the tears beginning to slip down your cheeks with the back of your hands. “You’re still a bastard.”

“Oh, undoubtedly.”

“But a nice bastard.”

“Careful, darling.” He leaned forward with an even wider smirk, fangs peeking out as a mischievous twinkle glinted in his eye. “We wouldn’t want word getting out.”

And if he caught sight of that little cloth poking out from a pocket or resting at the top of your bag, well maybe he let himself enjoy that warmth in his chest.

---

Tag List:

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bellaveux · 1 year

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YOUR LIPS, MY LIPS | wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: while studying for your class together, a party comes up in conversation and wanda ends up teaching you how to kiss.

content warnings: MDNI! kinda fuckgirl!wanda maximoff x fem!reader, bestfriend!wanda,modern/college au, kissing/making out, no smut! but suggestive themes

word count: 2.5k+

part two is here!

As the day draws to a close and the sun begins its descent, the sky outside the window transforms into a canvas of warm hues. The sunlight spills through the glass panes, casting an orange glow inside Wanda’s bedroom.

You were currently laying on her bed, elbows propping you up as you read through the pages of your textbook for the third time during this session and your best friend, Wanda, sits next to you, leaning her head back against the headboard with her own textbook in her lap. You were always with Wanda since high school up until now in your first year of college, and you two were always inseparable, regardless of where you two were or what either of you were doing together. Furthermore, you met her through her brother, Pietro, after introducing you when you had a project to work on with him back in your sophomore year.

Subsequently, you started seeing more and more of her when you would come over. She was rather quiet the first time you two met, not going above the words ‘hey’ or ‘hello.’ But as time carried on, you talked more and more, hung out more and more until the two of you were practically glued to each other.

But Wanda wanted more. More than just your best friend. It was your smile that had captured her attention, and she found herself drawn to your easygoing nature and sparkling eyes the first time she met you. She had never spoken up about it to you or anyone really, but it had always killed her when you would bring up the times when someone asked you out on a date or mentioned someone you had a crush on in class, or whatever it was as long as it wasn’t her. Still, she never talked about it. Her twin brother knew, even though she never really told him. Twin telepathy was probably the case.

But she never told you, not wanting to ruin the special thing the two of you had going.

Wanda couldn’t help but steal glances at you like she usually does. It didn’t help that she thought you looked pretty every time she sees you with your hair neatly fixed, that cute shade of lipstick you wore, your little damn skirt — always distracting her from whatever she was doing and in this case, from her studies.

And especially now as you laid on your front right on her bed. God, you looked so good in her bed. She couldn't help but admire how stunning you looked in the shirt you had borrowed from her when you had spilled something on yours earlier, she can’t remember what it was. The soft cotton material hugged your curves in all the right places, emphasizing the shape of your pretty waist and the hem of the fabric rested on your ass in a way that left Wanda breathless.

“Are you finished?”

Your voice cuts through her thoughts, pulling her back into focus as she scans your face and repeats the question in her head.

“No,” she shook her head softly as you take a second to look up at her, eyes never going back to the pages of her book.

Wanda waits silently as you stare at her, wondering what was going on in that pretty little head of yours. You were collecting your thoughts quickly, trying to formulate a way to say what was on your mind.

“Are you okay?” Wanda smirked as you furrowed your eyebrows as you thought hard.

You cleared your throat and let out a loud sigh, turning away from her to rest your forehead down.

“Wanda…” you began, voice slightly muffled against your arms. “What’s it like to kiss a girl?”

Wanda’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as she took in your question. She immediately knew what it was you were thinking with that question alone.

Wanda was the epitome of cool, calm, and collected. She was a woman who seemed to have a magnetic effect on other women. Everywhere she went, she was surrounded by a flock of adoring admirers. Some of them were obvious in their flirtation, making suggestive comments and batting their eyelashes at her. Others were more subtle, stealing glances and blushing when Wanda caught their eye. With her confident strut and piercing gaze, she exuded an air of confidence that drew people to her like a magnet. And when it came to the ladies, Wanda had a particular charm that was hard to resist. She had always been popular, even when she was in high school. Wanda was used to the attention.

But the only thing she wanted was yours.

It had been no secret that Wanda slept with girls quite regularly. She was popular along with her twin brother, so of course you knew that people would be lining up to get with them. Pietro was a little more shameless than Wanda, but still, you never really understood why she slept with so many people she barely knew. Sometimes, girls would even come up to you to ask for her number, which you had always turned down.

“Why are you asking?” Wanda closes her textbook and leans forward, trying to hear you better.

“Just wondering,” you huff out, turning your head to face her, cheek pressed up against your arm.

Wanda stared at you for a moment, rubbing her sweaty palm against her jeans, “Well… It’s really not much different than boys… Except, I will say that girls smell better… and they’re softer.”

You hummed softly at her response, causing her to look at you in concern. When your eyes tear away from hers, looking around at anywhere but her, Wanda brings a hand up to tuck some of your hair behind your ear.

“What’s going on in your pretty little head?”

You can’t help when your cheeks warm up slightly at her subtle compliment, one she never forgets to remind you of when you’re with her.

“Someone asked me to be their date to this party,” you say quietly, but you were sure Wanda had heard when you saw her jaw clench slightly, and you almost didn’t catch it.

“A girl asked you?”

You nod at her question, a little shy at the fact. From what Wanda knew, you had never been with a girl before, and not even that many boys, so you were… inexperienced. The question you asked earlier didn’t surprise her, but it was the reason behind it that she wished wasn’t true. She wished it were her.

“It’s Natasha,” you tell her.

Wanda ignores the sting of jealousy that erupts in her chest as she watches you push yourself up to sit in front of her, and she couldn’t help but stare at your thighs as you did, watching the fabric of your skirt move over your skin. She didn’t know how you did it, but you always seemed to know how to turn her on without even trying.

The thoughts pour into her head as she watches you adjust, a selfish part of her heart wishing that you were just some other girl on campus, moaning her name, her hand under your skirt, her head between—

“Wanda… I just… I’m not good at… that stuff–Fuck.” you mutter softly, embarrassed at your choice of words and to be fair, you didn’t really know what you were asking.

Wanda immediately shuts her thoughts out and moves closer to you for comfort, “Hey. Hey, it’s okay, (y/n)… I don’t know how to give you advice for this, to be honest…”

“Yeah, that’s okay,” you reassure her. “I just didn’t know who else to ask. I mean, I haven’t kissed anyone since high school.”

She nods at your words and for a second she looks down at your lips, sitting there looking plump and delectable as ever, almost like they were just asking her to move closer, pull her in… and she almost did.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out when it happens, (y/n). Just do what she does.”

Wanda hated the words that came out of her mouth. She knew you weren’t the most experienced person when it came to things like this. She also knew you stayed away from dating for a while after high school to focus on your studies, and Wanda felt kind of happy about it. Not only that, but she knew none of those ignorant college students on campus ever deserved you.

Unless, it was her.

Green eyes watched as you closely as you scoffed and rolled your eyes at her half-assed advice. Wanda can’t help but smirk at your frustration, while you groaned and ran a hand through your hair.

She didn’t know what she was thinking next, only that you looked so pretty sitting in her bed… she just had to do something about it.

“Come here.”

Wanda patted her thighs, straightening her legs across her bed. You looked at her curiously for just a moment but proceeded to throw your leg over to hers and seated yourself comfortably in her lap.

It was new; this level of closeness. You had laid your head in her lap countless times before, but never sat on it, facing her. She felt so close. You could feel her breath against your lips and her hands… her strong hands rested at your waist only for a moment before slowly dragging them down to the line of your hips, holding you down slightly against her thighs.

“Do you want me to show you?” Wanda asked, seeing how you stared at her with a blank stare as if you had countless thoughts running through your mind.

You nod and slowly brought your hands up to her shoulders, holding them softly as you brought your eyes over to look into Wanda’s emerald ones. Wanda swears she can hear her heart thumping loudly in her ears. Your small hands on her shoulders made her feel like she could melt at that very moment and just wanted to stay like this forever, keeping you close with no one to take you away.

Wanda brings a hand up to your face, keeping the other one at your hip as she tucked your hair behind your ear again before using her palm to caress your cheek. It travels lower, the pad of her thumb smoothing over your jaw down to your neck. She never broke eye contact as she did so, making you feel like you were the only girl in the world. Like… she was in love with you.

“I’m gonna kiss you, now,” Wanda whispered, her breath against your lips. “Follow my lead, okay?”

And she did.

Wanda’s heart pulsed as she pressed her lips gently against yours, sighing against them with her eyes fluttering closed. The grip you had on her shoulders tightened as you gasped lightly, and Wanda swears the butterflies in her stomach made her feel like she could just drift away. Your lips were so soft, as she had always suspected… as she had always imagined they would be. They were perfect. It felt like they were made to be against hers.

She made sure to take her time, relishing at this moment as she moved her hands underneath the hem of the shirt you had borrowed from her, rubbing the skin of your waist lightly, and you couldn’t help but moan into her mouth as you felt her hands on your body. The sound was music to her ears. And she needed more.

She groaned into your lips, continuing to kiss you as softly as she could, until she darted her tongue out to run it along your bottom lip. A smirk played at her lips when you instinctively moaned once more, opening your mouth, welcoming her into yours as she tilted her head more to the side. Wanda sighs again when she feels your hands move away from her shoulders, feeling your arms loosely wrap around her neck. You can feel her tongue inside your mouth, roaming all over, pushing it against your own tongue, making your knees weak and your stomach flutter as she continues to kiss you.

God, you tasted so delicious. Wanda never wanted this to end. She wanted to kiss you forever, keep you in her lap, take care of you, lay you down against her bed, make you moan her name… everything else after that. She wanted it so badly.

Wanda gives your tongue one last suck before pulling away softly for a breath of air. She smirked slightly, feeling you chase for her lips for a second. You sat there, lips parted slightly, breathlessly staring at her. You looked so damn pretty in her lap. She wanted to run her hands over your thighs, squeezing them lightly. You drove her crazy.

“You did great,” Wanda whispered absentmindedly, giving your thighs one last squeeze. “Natasha’s lucky. You’ll do great.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, eyes darting down to her swollen lips again, before looking into her green eyes. You wanted to kiss her again, too. Over and over. Until you were breathless.

Wanda wanted to frown as you forced yourself out of her lap quickly, turning away from her with the reddest cheeks she’d ever seen on you. Instead, she turned away and pulled her textbook back into her lap, wanting to distract herself from you for a moment. She didn’t know what she would do if she just continued to stare and yearn for you.

When you turned back to face her, she was looking down at her book just as she was before all of this happened, acting as if you weren’t just falling apart and moaning in her lap… like she was used to this. It stung watching her go back to normal as if what just happened wasn’t anything special to her.

“I should… probably go. It’s already getting late.”

Wanda looked up at you and stared for a moment, feeling the sudden awkwardness in the air as you began to gather your things. She couldn’t help but stare at your body as you bent down to grab your bag that was resting on the floor by her desk, admiring the sight of you, wanting desperately to have you on her lap again, have you moaning against her mouth…

She stood up slowly and walked with you until you reached the front door. You gave her a friendly kiss on her cheek before walking out to your car. She watched carefully, still feeling her heart hammering in her chest as you drove off.

A sigh falls past her lips as she walks back to her room, and her twin brother Pietro suddenly steps out of his, meeting her halfway in the hallway.

“Your lipstick is smudged,” he said as he walked past her.

She wasn’t even wearing any lipstick. Wanda rubbed her eye and smiled lightly as she entered her room, staring at her bed, reminiscing earlier events. Bringing a hand up to her lips, she brought her fingertips over them gently, trying to imagine yours against hers.

Your lips. Her lips. The taste of your lipstick.

In time, maybe she’ll muster up the courage to ask you to be hers, then she’ll be able to kiss you as much as she pleases.

navigation!

#bellaveux writes!#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #the scarlet witch #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #marvel #marvel x reader

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hopeluna · 2 months

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𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ — 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐵𝑂𝑌 𝐼𝑆 𝑀𝐼𝑁𝐸 (𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆'𝒔 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏)

✘ Part of the writing event by @carolmunson ! You can find the prompts n dialogue here, pls feel free to join in and write your own version <3

✘ the scene: a romantic night-in at the trailer.

✘ CW: eddie munsson x fem!reader, very much rom com vibes cause come on it's me, first time writing for eddie pray for me, was tryna do fluff but turned into hurt/comfort, mentions of financial insecurity, eddie being the best bf material out there. 1k

The trailer door creaks on it's hinges like it's going to fall off any moment. It hardly registers in Eddie's brain, pulling the door more forcefully open with a beaming grin to let you in.

He's practically vibrating from the pent up anticipation. It's been a few days since you both have properly spent any time with each other. Between you being busy with college and him playing to a steadily growing crowd at The Hideout, the past few days consisted only of short kisses and exchanging i love you's in passing.

Eddie didn't really wanna pester you much either. Even though he missed you these days like a starved man, the relationship was fairly new and blooming and he didn't have the heart to somehow accidentally mess it up right from the get go.

"What brings you to the freak's humble abode, my fair lady?"

He gives you a toothy grin when he sees you telling him to silently shut up. You weren't a huge fan of the 'freak' title. "I come with gifts!", you hold up the small pastel paper box like a medal.

Eddie lets out a low whistle, with a whisper of 'gimme', making animated grabby hands till you place the box delicately in his outstretched hands. He immediately digs in with hurried but careful hands, cautious to not damage the paper cause he knows you probably took hours to get it just right.

A soft smile pulls his lips up at the small pastries. It looks absolutely delectable. Whispy vanilla frosting coated all over the soft sponge, the scent of vanilla bean hitting his nose, little flecks of edible glitter and sprinkles all tied with a plump strawberry at the top.

"You made these?"

"Mhm! We did chocolate last week and red velvet the week before that, so I thought we could go for a classic vanil-"

Giggles fill the quiet space of the trailer, Eddie placing light, ticklish kisses all over your lips. His grin only stretches more when you shriek his name to let you go, "if you don't stop, we're gonna have a problem!"

"Oh yeah, sweetheart? And what is that problem?"

"I will-" you push Eddie away enough so that only your noses are touching "- revoke your kiss license." You let out a soft snort at your boyfriend's devastated expression.

"You wouldn't!"

"I would, baby."

Eddie's huffing away with a quiet 'meanie' as you shake your head fondly at him, nudging him silently to open the pastries. He carefully sets two out, putting the others in the freezer for Wayne when you come back from the kitchen with two chipped mugs. Eddie's heart falls a little at the thought of you maybe judging him for this.

"Eddie."

"Mhm?"

You roll your eyes with a smile, "don't just stand there, open the damn thing!" You nudge the poorly made cat themed mug in his hands- his favourite. You watch with wrung fingers as he practically balances more than half the dessert on the fork to shove in his mouth, leaving flecks of whipped cream and frosting on the corners of his mouth.

"It's so....sweet."

You wince without meaning to, "and you like that?"

Eddie lets out a amused laugh at your anxiety ridden face. "Baby, that's probably the second best damn thing i've tasted." He shines a gleaming smile on you at your own grin of accomplishment.

"What's the first?"

"You." Eddie's loud laugh fills the silence at your disgusted but flustered expression.

His face falters a little when you shove the throw pillow on the couch behind you to get comfortable. Eyes follow your hands as you tighten your grip on your own mug, the handle chipped away from wear. Eddie's gaze flits around the trailer- the old video player, the less than impressive flooring, the comfy but worn out looking blanket that you've draped over yourself. It's definitely not the white picket fenced dream most want. He feels comfortable here but do you? Maybe you sometimes wished to hang out somewhere els-

"Hey."

Eddie snaps his gaze over to you, expression nervous and concerned. "Um- yeah." Clearing his throat, he shifts a little forward to pick his notebook from the table, mindlessly going through it in an effort to seem busy.

"I-uh, i ran out of like, nice cups,-" he briefly gestures to the one in your hand, "-is that okay?"

He would've found your furrowed, confused expression cute if it wasn't for the small ball of anxiety etched in his throat. "Yeah- i mean, of course it's okay." You look back at the cup in your hand, then to him and back at the cup again. "Are you okay?"

The curls on his head seem to bounce a bit as he nods frantically, twisting the cover of the notebook in his hand "it's just, you know, that thing isn't the nicest " he gestures vaguely with his hand around you, "i mean-none of this is-"

"Eddie."

"The place isn't the most romant-"

"Eddie." His eyes go from looking around in the trailer to you, you who inched closer to him without him realizing. "I like- I love the trailer."

"But-"

"No, don't be like that. That's not even true. Just because it's not a house with a big front yard and white roofs doesn't mean it's nothing. It's home." You smile as Eddie's eyes widen almost unnoticeably as you cup his face in your hands.

"It's home because it has you in it. And I wouldn't change that for anything."

A breathy chuckle escapes you, Eddie now burying his face in your chest with arms snaked around your waist firmly. His voice is muffled against your shirt that you have to strain to hear what he says, "sometimes, I feel like you being my girlfriend is a very detailed fever dream."

You feel his smile against you as you press a kiss on the top of his head. The silence stretches for a while before you break it, fingers making mindless circles on his back.

"I also come here for the trailer park cats."

The gasp Eddie lets out, finally releasing you from his hold, makes it hard for you to not burst out ugly laughing.

"You would choose the cats over me?!"

"Maybe."

#stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fics #eddie munson one shot #joseph quinn #joe quinn

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yuellii · 6 months

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“ Would I have the honor to invite you for dinner? There's a banquet held by someone I don't know. I'd say it would be lavish of us if we don't enjoy it. ” — tennant / gn reader

“A rose for you,” she presents. And that slow, deep rumble of her voice sends a shiver that stirs your attention.

There is a tremor in such a thing, one that overshadows your body when she leans standing over your chair. Perhaps it was her hat, and the way it hovered over your heads; Or perhaps it was the large coat hanging off her shoulders, and how it created this air of mystery around her figure. But even a tremor so lightweight caused you to nearly choke on your drink when she presents you such a fresh rose out of nowhere.

“Tennant,” you name, though it was not your intent to carry slight distaste in your voice. Similarly, you couldn’t help but lean back against your chair to avoid her close proximity. “I don’t believe you were invited here at tonight’s banquet.”

She hums. “I see you aren’t one to fall for lowly, cheap tactics, my lord,” she says disappointedly, yet there is an baritone of amusement that flows through the air of her lips. “I thought that surely, you’d be flattered enough to allow me as your plus-one. What can I do to please you, should roses not suffice? Another drink? Perhaps a diamond?”

Along her string of words, she finds her place on the seat next to yours at the banquet table. Ah, that cannot do. These seats were already reserved before the event, and it was only a matter of time until the rest of your table attendees arrived as well.

“The people here,” you sighed, “They’ll no longer fall for your trickery, I fear.”

A refusal enough on your part—you could only hope she got the message. Her offers of wealth and of diamonds were only scams, and you came to know that very well. But when she merely scoffed, you only groaned to remind yourself just how persistent this mad woman can be.

( Especially, with you. )

“I’m shocked!” she expresses with a dramatic hand over her heart. There is a feigned hurt in her voice, but the way she holds back a smirk is very apparent. “Would you really think so lowly of me?” And at this, she leans closer to you by the dimly lit table side, feeling all-the-more suffocated at her nearing proximity. Damn this woman. “A kind gentleman would not bestow any trickery,” she says, as if you’ve spoken the most absurd words in the world. “And I believe that I am above a gentleman who would offer fake diamonds, wouldn’t you agree?”

You roll your eyes. “Asking me to agree with you is like asking me to marry a corrupted congressman.”

She smiles, attractively so. “This is why I like you…” her voice trails. She tilts her head, leaning it downwards to the side and then looks up at you. “You’re a glowing luxury”—her words are muttered with barley contained excitement, practically breathless—“perfect for deceiving the likes of this greedy, greedy nobles around us.”

There is a question left unspoken in the way she gazes so enticingly at you; half lidded eyes glowing red under the expensive lighting of this banquet. She was a feat of her own, already breaking into here in the first place. And now, she just needed you to officially invite her as your plus-one invitation. The best thing you could do was refuse her. But unfortunately, she has seemed to figure out your weakness by now.

“Stand up,” you sighed. “Let’s go get your ticket.”

There is a winning smile on her face.

When she stands, she moves forth to offer her arm to you. With the way you so naturally hold onto her, she feels a confidence at her confirmed guess: It was not a desire for roses, or diamonds, or any material thing that would win over your favor.

Rather, it was Tennant herself.

She grins to herself. Oh, she hopes she doesn’t break your poor heart.

#st. pavlov foundation #tennant x reader #reverse 1999 x reader #reverse 1999 tennant x reader #reverse 1999 tennant #tennant reverse 1999

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principledpropo · 2 years

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Does she… hate her children? Despise having to be involved in any way - does the action of simply discussing Damian piss this woman off?

Because if so, then god damn I love it, because we get to see the truly perfect antithesis to Loid and Yor.

The Forgers aren’t perfect, but the way they involve themselves in Anya’s life is beautiful. It’s warm and loving while teaching her to make and respect boundaries (that’s difficult for a telepath lmao), but their walls almost always come crashing down the second they find themselves alone in each other’s company. Loid may be strict and Yor may be a little too enthusiastic, but every action they take for Anya is for her sake, and every mistake they make is an experience they immediately learn from to better raise Anya.

The Desmonds aren’t physically abusive, nor do they scream nor degrade their kids. Both Desmond scions are clearly well-off, having wealth and service in spades. Everything they could ever want, at the snap of their fingers. Except their parent’s love and attention. Donovan sees his sons as tools to further his name and goals, while Melinda (and this is just conjecture) shows shades of a woman who never wanted children and is searching for ways to live and enjoy her life free of their burden.

(Little tangent, but people, women especially, shouldn’t be saddled with kids if they do not wish to. Their body, their choice, and no one should ever say otherwise. That being said, when the child is born, the parent has a lifelong responsibility to that child, and regret is no longer an option. I see so many parents who practically begged to have kids, but ended up resenting them, and in turn their kids grow and feel the same way to them. You can never let your children feel like they are a mistake. Never.)

To Donovan, his children are materials that can be shaped into weapons for his political gain and clout. To Melinda, (again, just a hunch), they are nuisances she can’t be bothered to deal with.

But Loid and Yor, who don’t share a single drop of blood with Anya? Who created and joined their family for self-protection? They can’t stop themselves - they shower Anya with love. They can’t spoil her with gifts like Becky and Damien get, but they never starve Anya of what matters most: their love, their time, and their energy. Anya is an esper - if she grew up with people like Desmonds, she’d know immediately she was unloved. Hell, she has! Returned to foster homes again and again. So it is beautiful that a girl who can read her parent’s anxieties and fears has never once heard them think she was a mistake (well other than that first episode with Loid lol). They have had every opportunity to grow resentful of Anya, but they never have. They think the world of her. Mr. “It’s for the mission” Twilight bends over backwards on a whim for his daughter. Yor “I won’t let my daughter die in school” Forger would commit war crimes if she even thought her precious child got a boo boo.

The Desmonds, at best, see their children as investments and at worst mistakes. But no matter what Anya does, good or bad, it doesn’t ever change their perspective of her.

She isn’t just a cover child to them. She’s their daughter, and they’d shake heaven and earth for her when the Desmonds can’t even be bothered to attend their son’s orientation day.

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ecoamerica · 23 days

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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c-nstantine · 2 months

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Can't Keep My Hands Off You

Description: Inspired by a comment from @blckbarbiedoll

Warnings: Creampie, quickie, car sex

Word Count: 0.8k

Y/N smoothed her dress as she stared into her reflection in the mirror of her and Roy's shared apartment. This dress was different than her usual 'princess' style but it looked great on her nonetheless. While it was floor length, there was a slit in the silky material that ran up to her hip. That in combination with the corseted bodice that pushed up her breasts, she looked damn good. She had her hair done earlier that morning to install a long black lace front with a middle part.

"Damn, I am a lucky man," Roy whistled as he approached her from behind. He was practically ready to go outside of his bowtie being undone. His hands found her waist and lingered there as he pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"We look good," She said turning to him and fixing his tie. It had become a habit of theirs for her to do it.

"Maybe too good to go out?" Roy entertained lightly with a smirk. Y/N smacked his chest and rolled her eyes.

"Come on, we're going to be late," She pulled him by his coat sleeve and led him out the apartment door.

At first, Roy was concerned when Y/N told him to pull off into a dark alley just thirty minutes before they had reached their destination. He figured that she was sick or something but then she told him to get in the back seat. He used to pray for times like this when they started dating.

"No panties? You just wanted me to fuck you in the backseat," He said as she ground into his lap. The perk of wearing a dress with such a high slit is that it is easy to fuck in.

"Roy, please," She whined into his neck. Her lips pressed into his neck just above his collar to avoid staining. His hands slipped between them and he rubbed her pussy ever so slightly. His fingers just barely grazed her clit and she let out a small whine.

"Fuck, you're wet already," He groaned and tapped her thigh so that she would raise her hips. He made quick work of belt and zipper before sliding down his pants and boxers. His tip was dripping with precum and flushed red.

"If you ruin this dress, no sex for a week," She spoke as she lowered herself onto him making sure that neither of their fluids got on her dress. She let a loud sigh as she adjusted to his length.

"Yes, ma'am," Roy's grip on her hips tightened as he helped her ride him in the tight space. The car began to rock back and forth but neither of them could be bothered to care.

Y/N's hands gripped Roy's shoulders for support and sure every once in and while her head would bump the roof of the car but that was nothing to the pleasure that she was feeling. One hand left her hip and trailed down to her clit. Her pussy clenched tighter around him as he played with her clit bringing her more and more pleasure. He watched her mouth drop open forming a small 'o'.

"Roy, I'm gonna-" Her voice faltered as she approached her orgasm. Roy took control of her hips and did the work for her. Her moans got louder and louder as she came on his dick.

"Where do you want me?" Roy grunted while trying to keep himself together. He tried his best not to cum until she told him where. His neck and face were flushed red.

"Inside, baby, inside," She instructed him still slowly moving. She let out a whine as she felt his warm seed enter her. The two of their breathing turned into pants as they murmured 'I love you'. Y/N placed a long kiss on Roy's lips and smiled.

"I'll get the baby wipes," Roy spoke after a few moments of contentment. The two of them tried not to make this a frequent habit but as her father's daughter, it never hurt to be prepared.

"Hey, Dad," Y/N immediately greeted her father as they found him through the crowd of people in the venue. There was some classical music playing that made her feel like she was in Bridgerton.

"You look gorgeous as always, Y/N, even if you're an hour late. Roy," Bruce hugged his daughter and just eyed Roy as he normally does.

"Hi, Mr. Wayne," Roy waved from behind Y/N. He didn't know when he would get over his fear of Bruce. Every time he got close, he remembered that Bruce was also Batman.

"It's called being fashionably late. I'll go start my rounds with the old people." Y/N said before disappearing into the crowd of people with her shimmering dress. Roy watched as her hips swayed side to side and she blew him a kiss before conversing with some old billionaire.

"The next time you two are 'fashionably late', you might want to make sure she doesn't leave any marks on you," Bruce placed on hand on Roy's shoulder and pulled him closer. Roy's face flushed red as he reached for the right side of his neck as he remembered what Y/N did to his neck.

"Yes, sir," He spoke quickly and looked down to his shoes. He's really got to learn to resist Y/N.

Taglist: @flyestvenustrap @megamindsecretlair @blxckdesire @prettyvintageafternoon @lilbanas @certifiedloverwoman @melissa-ashe @hoyoooo

#x black!reader #black!reader #x black reader #black reader #black!batsis #roy harper #roy harper x batsis #roy harper x reader #roy harper headcanon #roy harper x black!batsis #roy harper x spoiled!batsis #roy harper x black!reader #roy harper x black batsis #black batsis #spoiled black batsis

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latimeria-fell-from-heaven · 10 months

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currently having so much brainrot for yandere miguel o'hara. he just oozes control freak vibes; everything has to go his way and go right otherwise he absolutely loses it. he has to be in control of everything, because if he's in control, then he won't have to worry about another loss so close to him.

miguel is horridly possessive, obsessive, a strange mix of delusional and lucidity, and somewhat sadistic, though he always reigns himself back in. he doesn't want to hurt you, but you keep acting so damn difficult, and even he has his breaking points. miguel lashes out, yelling at you and rising to his full height, asking why can't you just listen to him for once. if you listened, everything would be so much easier and better for both of you. his anger flares red, leaving you quiet and shaking as he rears himself like a feral beast about to tear its prey to shreds.

miguel finds that intimidation works best in hampering your stubborn spirit.

also the way he chased down poor miles was screaming feral energy. he lets his anger get the best of him and thus does not allow for logic to flow into his twisted mind when he's chasing you down. he's practically running after you on all fours, claws tearing into whatever material happens to be closest to him. you're practically shitting bricks when you see the absolutely feral look in his eyes as he tears his way closer. you're stubborn, admirably so, even miguel has to give you credit for that, as you clumsily attempt to run from him. but miguel, in the heat of his anger and frustration, forgets just how delicate your body is compared to his. his fangs and claws cause nothing but horrid agony—you're sure that the terror and panic is exemplifying the pain tenfold— as your blood welts up past broken muscle and skin.

even as his venom takes hold and your body begins to slow in its movements, you're still trying to make weak attempts at pushing him away. the sensible part of him feels so broken at the terrified look in your eyes, but there's the part of him that enjoys seeing you like this—in such a fragile state, you have no one but him—and he once more reigns in his anger, his rage.

this is all for your own good, he murmurs into your ear and he carries you away. this is all because you didn't listen to him.

#lati thirsts #tw yandere #yandere miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #unrelated but i would die for miles. he's my son and i wanna give him the biggest hug #on another note i'm gonna beat miguel with the chancla. he may be mi papi but i'm still gonna throw hands with him <33

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astaroth1357 · 1 year

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My Incredibly Spoiler Heavy Thoughts on Nightbringer

TURN BACK IF YOU HAVE ANY INTEREST IN PLAYING THE GAME AT ALL. I MEAN IT.

Hello. I have completed all 10 lessons on the Normal difficulty. These are my thoughts:

First, a disclaimer. All of this is my opinion. If you feel differently about a character or plot point, that's fine. This is all just as I see it.

Holy hell, I love the setup here so damn much. The Nightbringer story so far is truly more than just a rehash of the OG plot, largely because of all the small stuff that keeps happening in background. Yes, we're befriending the brothers again, but we don't know WHY. Why are we in the past? Who sent us there? What do they want from us, or... what do they want out of somebody else?? 👀 I have to hand it to the writers for coming up with this premise, it's soild. Will they stick the landing...? We'll see.

The New! (Old) Cast

Lucifer:

Whelp, Luci is being colder to us than ever... But far more openly involved with his brothers than we saw previously. You can really tell that this is fresh off of the War and he's just trying his best to keep everybody corralled and (somewhat) comfortable.

He still holds onto his Celestial Realm prejudice against demons, so he doesn't trust MC at all which is an interesting turn on the dynamic from before. As a human, Lucifer saw us as weak and insignificant so he didn't give us much time of day. But as a "demon," and someone more knowledgeable about the Devildom than himself, he has to suck it up and rely on MC even if he wants them to stay away.

By the end of Lesson 10, it's safe to say whatever trust he had in MC is going to be shattered. MC has talked their way out of a lot, but even Dia looks shaken by their abilities this time... I'm curious to see if they can reestablish a relationship with him when he was already keeping them at arms length to start with.

Mammon:

Ah, Mammon... Once simp, forever a simp across time and space. Bless him. I guess he's just doomed to always fall first when it comes to MC. It DOES NOT take long for him to be down bad even if you don't romance him specifically (I would know because I'm trying to stay mono-Levi this go around).

Aside from his tsundere-ness, though, we do get a look into more of his insecurities. I find an interesting pattern developing in him where he just tends to latch onto a person and follow them unfailing. He did that with Lucifer before the Fall, he didn't even think about the consequences before going through with it. You could see him doing much the same with MC. I think it stems from a lack of confidence in himself and his own abilities, constantly relying on others to guide him through big decisions and provide him with validation. Add another poor thing to the list...

Leviathan:

I swear to God, the devs realized that Levi's charm lies in his pathos, so they went out of the way to make him EVEN MORE pathetic than normal. I still love him for it, of course. But seriously, Levi starts out practically afraid of his own shadow when the story starts. It makes sense, Levi would have probably one of the more negative impressions of demons of the seven, having fought them head on. He was a shut in before the War and now he's even more terrified to leave the house, let alone his room... (I can't be the only one who's wondering how the hell Dia's going to look at him and go, "Ah yes! I see Admiral material right there!" right?)

I do like that the writers took the time to show that he's one of the more empathetic brothers, right alongside Asmo and Beel, even if he's bad with people. Levi is quick to sympathize with beings and creatures who don't fit in and it's always very sweet to see. I also guess that Simeon wrote TSL in secret or after the War? You think he would know of it at least having lived so long with the author... Anyway. I digress.

There's a lot of... small things around Levi that I think hint at the inner feelings of the brothers, though (of all seven of them, he has the WORST poker face I swear). I may touch on those in another post because I need time to gather my thoughts on how it all connects there... Anyway, he's still my favorite and I'm going to try to see if there's any truth to this "you get a deeper connection if you stick to one brother" thing. Wish me luck.

Satan:

Okay, load your guns now because I think Satan is the real star of the show here. They're actually pulling way more than the "He's mad because he's seen like Lucifer" card. We're at a point where Satan doesn't even consider himself associated with the brothers AT ALL. That means something and has consequences on the story. He didn't even go with them to check on Beel, despite having enough fire power that he could have probably helped a lot.

Now before someone goes screaming at me that they've devolved him into comic relief, I'd first like to ask what did you think he was going to be? OG Satan told us himself that he used to feel nothing but anger. He's going to be pissed, irrational, and violent. He's Wrath.

What truly they're giving us under all of that is a look into a vulnerable guy who doesn't know anything about the world around him and is trying to pick it up on his own because his brothers can't (and maybe won't) teach him. They keep chaining him up (which I hate btw) and talk about him like he's a beast. But it's partially because they're such terrible communicators that he flies off the handle so often to begin with.

Satan is more alone than really anybody else is the Devildom. His brothers already have all this history together and memories shared during their time as angels, stuff he has no context for and could never experience himself. He's still an outcast among demons for his association with them, despite being a fully fledged demon in his own right, and he doesn't know why he has to be linked to them because he barely knows them anyway. He's taking baby steps to understand the world, but when he goes to his brothers to ask questions they lampshade him for even having clear thoughts. All they see him as is a roaring beast. This version of Satan is fascinating to me. How does he start here and end up the eloquent, emotionally-controlled bookworm with a planet's worth of connections? I gotta know!!

Asmodeus:

They FINALLY started giving Asmo his proper flowers! I still think it could have been more, but he's gotten way more depth than he had before. I know that Asmo part technically involved MC's input the least out of all of the brothers, but I think that was by design.

Asmo is a surprisingly introspective individual under his urge to perform. MC didn't have to give much input because he just didn't need as much. He knows himself very well (unlike some of the others). He's an emotionally intelligent guy who can sort out his own inner problems and remain empathetic enough to want to help his brothers in his own way. I wanted to hear more from this side of Asmo, honestly, but the game seems to make it clear that he's content with his spot of being the family's brightest smile. I hope it makes more appearances as we go on.

Beelzebub:

This one is tricky, because lesson 10 leaves off on a cliffhanger related to Beel... So I think Beel's feelings will have more consequences than the other brothers' on the story. Most of all that we see of Beel is, unfortunately, him being hungry or off being wholesome with Belphie but lesson 10 did give us some eye-openers regardless.

First, apparently if he flies off the handle, Beel is quite the challenge to handle. It takes Dia himself to restrain him, which is pretty insane for the sixthborn in the line-up. It's possible some outside magic is cranking up his power somehow, but we won't know until the next lessons are out.

Secondly, I find it very interesting that Beel's "heart-to-heart" moment with us is being saved for last... It was definitely the most surprising one of the secrets in the teasers (in my opinion). Beel and Belphie are glued to the hip and share everything together so for him to have a secret "not even Belphie" knows is pretty shocking. I hope it's not just that he saved Belphie instead of Lilith since we all already know that. It'd be a pretty cheap pay off to all this buildup... Not that I haven't been disappointed before or anything.

Belphegor:

Similar to Beel, Belphie doesn't get much attention until the end and it isn't much that we haven't heard before, unfortunately. You kind can't blame them, since plumbing out Belphie's inner trauma about the War was the entire climax of the first game. It's nothing we don't already know. That being said, I think there's some more interesting things that are being said about Belphie or left unsaid by the others that I find more fascinating to keep track of.

TLDR, I think there's some weird distancing going on between Belphie and the others. It doesn't seem super apparent, but Levi dropped some weird bombshells early on and I can't help but notice how he just never seems to be without Beel. Those two are close, yeah, but in this game they're practically a unit. I'm pretty sure Belphie is using Beel as a security blanket of sorts. He's also the ONLY one to mention Lilith in any great detail. Unsurprising, but it's worth noting that the others haven't really brought her up despite it (supposedly) starting the War.

Diavolo:

Somebody give this guy a vacation and a raise... So apparently, the brothers were cast down, the old King took one look at them and counted to seven, then conked out. Now our boy has to rule the kingdom. He's... the same really. As far as I can tell. You can really see how much he's taken to the brothers' antics though, which checks out in the other game too.

WAAAY more fascinating to me is apparently there's some kind of body called the House of Lords who think that Dia is too young for the job. What's the House of Lords?? Who are they? Are they like a council or advisory board...? Or is this a UK setup? Is there a Parliamentary board?? I dunno, could just be my Poli Sci talking but I'm now so lost on how the Devildom operates now...

Barbatos:

Oh my God, if there is any character I could live vicariously through, it was Barbs here. For whatever unnamed reason he is NOT having any of Solomon's shit right now and I'm living for it. Setting my delight aside, we don't get to see very much of him and what we do see doesn't really differ from the norm, which only makes his detest all the more shocking.

Through Barbs, we also see just how potent the power of the pacts can be when Solomon summons him and more or less forces him to do as he says. Nothing seems to stop him from retaliating after the fact, as he sent Solomon off who knows where, but seeing that kind of power wielded over a being who's almost unattainable to us is... Well. I feel bad for Asmo.

Simeon:

There's a lot to unpack with Simeon... and a lot of it is in the stuff that goes unsaid. First, I already found it strange that he didn't seem surprised to see Satan in the House. Or if he was, he didn't say it or bother introducing himself which is... telling for a guy like Simeon. He's back to being Luke's minder in front of demons, but I can't help but notice that he doesn't do much to counter Luke's tirades. He only indicates that it's impolite to say them, so he may still harbor the very same feelings.

Simeon and Lucifer have something of a heart to heart together that they never would in the OG title where Simeon admits his biggest regret. It isn't that he didn't follow Lucifer, as we might think, but that he doesn't feel like did enough to reach out to him before he made his decision. Lucifer dispells this, but I think it goes to show that Simeon stands behind his decision to stay and that it was the better option. Lucifer also confront Simeon on why he didn't take a high position (seraph) and instead settled for archangel. It's left open ended what his real motives for that would be, but I suspect that it has something to do with Simeon's troubling streak of going against the grain, even in subtle ways. Or he has too much anger about what happened to accept taking Lucifer's old position.

I found it interesting how easily these two seemed to talk about intimate topics together here where Lucifer barely even acknowledges Simeon's attempts to reach out in the OG story. I wonder what may have happened to sour their relationship so severely...?

Luke:

Luke the Racist Chihuahua returns!! Okay, I'm being a little mean but he's pretty much just self-righteous little kid the whole way through. I will admit, it is a little funny that the person who came up with the nickname was actually Lucifer. I think it's now retconned and confirmed that Luke and the brothers never knew each other before the Fall... though Luke seems to know OF their former selves in some capacity. I could be misinterpreting things though.

The Rat Bastard Solomon:

I swear to God this was me playing through the whole game tied to this guy.

He's lying. A lot. Constantly. And it pisses me off to no end. I was wondering why things he was saying and the stuff he was doing weren't lining up and OF COURSE it's because he's either working his own agenda or being outright deceitful. I hate him so much, y'all, you don't even know...

That aside, as an impartial observer Solomon is pulling a lot of work to support MC and you can TELL how down bad he is for them, which actually has significance for the plot I think. He's keeping them in the dark about something, but considering his feelings I say we can at least be charitable and assume it isn't to hurt them or cause them any suffering... intentionally. He's also as unscrupulous as ever, considering how he ordered a very angry Barbs around and more or less took advantage of a life or death situation to make a pact with Asmo.

So. At the end of the lessons, we're reintroduced to the mysterious Nightbringer. The character who actually sent us back in time at the start of the game. Yeah, it wasn't Barbatos... probably. At least not our reliable neighborhood butler anyway. They seem to be different entities but I THINK they might share some connection....

I have to wonder who disguised MC when they first arrived. The marketing made it seem like it would be Solomon but the marketing has been hit or miss on actual accuracy about the game we're seeing. If it was Solomon, then he had to have known where the MC was before he called. If it was Nightbringer then... well actually. We need to touch on that first.

Nightbringer:

Now, much of this is just me speculating so take things with a grain of salt. Nightbringer's name is blocked out, but it seems like it identified itself to us in the beginning before sending us to the past. It appears like it wants something from Solomon.... to fully corrupt him maybe? And it's using MC as leverage against him.

I suspect that all of the weird stuff that has been happening is tied to its meddling in some way, but to what end is unclear... Sending Levi and MC into TSL, tricking Asmo then trying to feed everyone to a spider, and, likely, whatever is going on with Beel. I can't tell if it's trying to push MC and the brother's closer together, or just making vaguely comical attempts at homicide by fictional characters, spider, and Gluttony incarnate.

The situation with Adam does give us a hint into its nature. It appears to be some kind of dark, trickster being that gives a person what they desire, but never the way they intended. A walking monkey's paw, if you will. Solomon says that Nightbringer made him what he is today, so perhaps he worked under it or is simply under the influence of one its "deals." Their relationship is adversarial, though. When they're speaking, they talk about the two supernatural sides, Angel and Demon, and Nightbringer seems to want to force Solomon to make a choice between them. Lose his humanity, maybe?

I'm not quite willing to say that Nightbringer is a demon just yet, at least not one of the ones we normally encounter. Something about it seems... older. More powerful than that. But we'll have to wait for more info.

My crackpot theory?

Solomon has made a deal with Nightbringer in order to go back in time and do... something. He's after something. Nightbringer agreed, but dragged MC along as collateral for Solomon to get it done within a certain amount of time or makes sure he honors his part of the bargin. Barbatos knows this, either because he is linked to in some way to Nightbringer or saw it happen in the doorway, and is disgusted by his actions but unable to speak about it due to the pact. Or, you know. That's our present Barbie also dragged along for the ride and he's pissed that he's been essentially hijacked and taken away from present Diavolo, but forbidden to speak about it.

#i may do ONE LAST analysis post #over my speculation #and just weird stuff I saw #but after that #it’s back to the normal content #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me nightbringer #obey me analysis #obey me nightbringer analysis #om spoilers #omn spoilers #obey me spoliers #obey me nb spoilers #obey me nighbringer spoilers

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ddejavvu · 1 year

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Seeing Aaron for the first time with the fbi vest on 👀 the vest stays ON 😉

just know i wanted this to have the same energy as the scene where derek gets shot and he flashes his bandaged abs at penelope and she just pets them like 😵

The door clicks shut behind you, soft and smooth. It's a sound you're well accustomed to now, and not even the soft sizzle of the oil in your frying pan can trick you into ignoring it. You've got a trained ear for the click, because it means that Aaron's home.

He closes the door near-silently because he's nervous about waking Jack up. Even though it's mid-afternoon, old habits die hard.

As it happens, today is a day that Jack naps. He's passed out, spread starfish over your bed, head on Aaron's pillow and leg thrown over one of yours. You'd run him ragged at the playground today, and you're using the down time to make yourself some stir-fry.

"Aaron," You call, your voice a soft hum so that it doesn't disturb Jack from the other room, "In the kitchen."

"Hi, honey." He murmurs, arms slipping around you from behind, "Early day today, we just helped the local PD with an arrest. They needed a door-breaker, and Morgan is legend. 'Figured I'd let everyone off early to get some lunch."

You let out a soft laugh at the mention of his bulky agent, you'd recommend him for the job, too. You turn your head to press your lips sloppily against his, an awkward angle but a sweet gesture. He reciprocates as best he can, eyes fluttering shut.

"Jack here?" Aaron inquires after you part, nose tucked into your neck.

"Yeah," You hum, eyes on your stir-fry as it sizzles, though you're leaning into Aaron practically hard enough to knock him down, "He's napping. I wore him out at the park."

"Good job," Aaron chuckles, squeezing your waist. He makes to toe off his shoes by the door, but when he separates from you a soft rrrip is heard, one that strikes fear into your heart for the pretty blouse you're wearing.

"What-?" You peer down, expecting to see a hole in your shirt. Instead, you catch a thick black strap that hangs off of Aaron's chest, in fact, there's several, lining up and down his- oh, fuck.

He's wearing his bulletproof vest. The dark grey material molds tight to his abdomen, straps stretching around his torso. It only adds heft to his build, something that makes your mouth water. If Aaron notices any drool, he attributes it to the smell of the stir-fry on the stove.

"You..." You reach out to brush your finger over the bottom of the vest, "You brought home your vest?"

"Kind of forgot about it," He shrugs, watching the cloudy look in your eyes, "Everything okay?"

"Mhm," You hum casually, "Yeah that's- this is more than okay. It's... is this something you wear a lot?"

"Uh, every time I think someone might have a gun," He chuckles bewilderedly, "What is up with you?"

"Nothing." You breathe, looking up at him dazedly. He's staring at you, entirely unconvinced, but he doesn't have time to drill you any more when you take hold of his chin, dragging him into a kiss.

If he's surprised, he doesn't show it. You feel his hands encase your cheeks, pulling you closer even if your hands are doing so around his sides. You brace your palms against his vest, feeling the way that it gives him an extra layer of stomach, like a muscle of it's own, always flexed.

"Not that I'm-" Aaron speaks, but his words muffle when you keep pressing incessant kisses to his bottom lip, "-complaining, but- what is this about?"

"You look damn good in that vest, Hotchner." You purr, stir-fry the last thing on your mind as your thigh comes up to stick to his side, "Jack's asleep on our bed, just take me here."

"Uh, wow." His eyes widen, not negatively so, though, as a laugh escapes his throat. You're tempted to swallow it, but you're more focused on his neck, now, nipping down the heated skin.

"First of all," He reaches forward to turn off the stove, nudging the pan onto a back burner, "Sex would be unpleasant in a burning building. And second," He grips your thigh in one hand, fingers digging roughly into your flesh so that it bulges between his fingers, "The kitchen counter won't be comfortable for you. Let's do the couch instead, honey."

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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