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luveline · 5 days

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Can I request a fic involving a reader with a skin picking disorder, please? I have one that started up around the same time as my anxiety disorder started ramping up, and now my arms are riddled with scars. I've been trying to break the habit for years now, sometimes I do good but sometimes I don't and I'm so self-conscious about it all.

thank you for requesting sweetheart!! fem, 1k

Eddie thinks there may be no better feeling than your hand in his as Eddie lays on your shoulder. You have this thing about your arms where they can get a little sore from picking, so you can’t always let him lean on them. Good thing he takes his super hot babe angel any way you’ll have him.

“Super what?” you ask.

“My super hot babe angel,” he says into the top of your shoulder, slouched in the dark, TV burning his eyes.

“I missed everything you just said,” you murmur apologetically.

Eddie forces himself to stop laying so heavily against your side and gives you some space. He’s worried he’ll elbow you as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. “I asked if you wanted to go to bed, super babe.”

“Is that what the rock stars are calling their girlfriends?” you ask.

“Just me.” He clambers off of the couch with a groan. His hair falls in his eyes and he’s too hot for the weather tonight. “I’m gonna brush my teeth.”

You’d already done yours. You usually get ready for bed in one process where Eddie drags it out all night; you’re in your pyjamas with spearmint on your tongue already, while Eddie’s groggy and overdressed two hours later.

You go separate ways for a few minutes, the bed squeaking as you drop yourself in it, while Eddie puts his hair up to wash his face and brush his teeth. He takes his shirt off when he’s done, his jeans next, kicked into a pile by the hamper and ready for tomorrow’s laundry.

“That’s forward,” you mumble, having made yourself comfortable with his worst pillow, the blanket pulled back on his side of the bed in wait for him.

He rushes into new pyjama pants, eager to slide into bed beside you, though the sheets are a bit much. You’re still in your long sleeve tee.

Eddie knows what you’re doing. Most summer nights you wait for him to fall asleep before you take off your shirt, too hot to suffer it but too afraid he’ll see your arms. He has, of course, seen them before. He loves them just as much as any part of you, even if you hate them.

And he wants to see them to know you aren’t going too far.

“Shirt off,” he says, fingers on your hip. “Come on, super babe. Too hot for that.”

“Eddie…”

“Take it off, sweetheart.”

He wouldn’t talk to you like that if he didn’t know you’d say no if you really couldn’t handle it; he’d never force you to show your insecurities, even if he’s seen them and loved on them before.

You don’t bother sitting up any more than you need to, peeling off your shirt and shucking it onto the floor, leaving you in your tank top. Lengths of your arms exposed.

He can see the worst of it quickly. You’ve picked yourself bloody at the crook of your elbow and the scar at your wrist is irritated. Your non-dominant arm takes the brunt of it every time, but besides those two cruel places, the rest of your skin is unharmed. Scarred in places, but healed.

“Look at that one,” he mumbles, taking your arm, his thumb close but not touching the wound. “Does that hurt?”

“Not really.”

“Let me get something. You need a dressing–”

“Eddie, please don’t.”

Eddie likes smiling. He can be pretty moody, but you bring out the best in him. Even when you’re hurting, he has a smile waiting for you, locked and loaded. He shifts in bed so he can lean over you, weight braces on his elbow, his face in his hand. “What’s worrying you so much?” he asks.

“Everything.”

“It’s tough.” He blows a breath at your eyelashes. Your eyes shutter closed. “Babe, it’s really tough, but you don’t have to hide it from me.”

“It’s weird.”

“It’s not weird, it’s sad. It’s not nice that you feel so worried you start hurting yourself, but it’s not weird.” He leans down to kiss your furrowed brow, but he doesn’t quite get there, nose smushed to your hairline. “You’re perfect.”

“M’not perfect.”

“Yes you are,” he says, cupping your face. His hand is gentle, his kiss less so. He hopes it emphasises his point.

“Your hair is really tickling me.”

“I can’t go anywhere, I’m sorry. I have to stay right here,” he says, hand trailing down your chest to weave between your arm and side, and then soundly under your back. He doesn’t want a ring or bracelet to snag on your sore arm. “Give me a hug, super babe. Please.”

You bring your arms up tentatively behind him.

“I just wanna know when you’re upset,” he says.

“Sorry. I don’t really think about it, I just do it.”

“I know, but… this stuff doesn’t bother me. You don’t have to wait for me to be sleeping before you take your shirt off, you have nothing to hide from me.”

“It’s so stupid.”

He hates the shame in your tone. “It’s not stupid. We need to find better ways for you to feel better, that’s all.” His cheek rubs against yours.

He can rebuke your worries all night, but he doesn’t need to. He shifts onto his side to let you hug his chest with more force, your face in his neck, the cold tip of your nose and your warm lips. “I wanna be pretty like you.”

“You think I’m pretty?” he asks.

You hum a yes.

“Even though I always have at least one zit, and all those weird stretch marks on my shoulders, and my hair’s frizzy every day?”

“None of that stuff matters,” you say, startled.

“Exactly. None of this stuff matters.” He finds your arm to feel down to the sore scab on your wrist. “I just need you to tell me about it more often. Okay? Deal?”

You breathe in the side of his neck. “Okay, handsome. Deal.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

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macabr3-barbi3 · 2 months

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CTRL ALT DELETE- Task Manager (Vox/Reader)

Something's up with Vox and you offer to help troubleshoot- it both does and does not go how you're expecting it to.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54688282

The least serious thing I've ever written: inspired by the time i started a timer in class one day to see how long my teacher talked about her son instead of teaching us; i ended up realizing 4 months later that i never stopped the timer and it was just running in the background and making my shit slow that entire time lmao there's a screenshot in the ao3 notes

Tags: Stress Relief, Sexual Tension, Chair Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Begging, Computers. Dirty Talk, very basic knowledge of computers

<3<3<3<3<3<3

Your new boss seemed stressed.

Not in the usual way that he was stressed, either- the note from the assistant you had replaced was that usually when Vox was having an off day he would call for Valentino or have you pull a list of low earners for the month, banishing you from the room in either case. But he hadn’t spent any time with Val in months, basically the entire time that you’d been working with him as a personal assistant after getting promoted from a stage grunt for the news channel.

You had thought for a bit that he might make a move- that maybe that was why he promoted you, that he was charmed enough by you to end the on/off thing he had going on with Val, which made sense based on the timing. But when you tested that theory recently- made double entendres, brushed your hands against his arms or leg or back, blatantly invited him out for dinner and drinks- he didn’t seem interested. He declined your invite, allowed you to touch him without being overcome with lust, and the sex jokes just seemed to go whoosh.

Right over his head.

He was on edge and twitchy. He took longer to respond to things than he normally did, his processors slow, occasionally getting a ‘buffering’ message that flashed across his screen when someone asked a question. His hypnotic eye seemed to be suffering as well, the swirls having slowed down now to the point that they were no more mesmerizing than watching paint dry. It was frustrating and enraging him, and in turn frustrating you- he was fucking hot when he was angry, which didn’t help your attraction to him that he was ignoring.

He was sitting at his desk in the control room when you entered, head in his hands as he stared at a piece of paper on his desk. The monitors were all lit behind him, showing recorded footage of the Tower throughout the day- you spotted a short recording of yourself talking to some of the marketing team a few hours ago. Like a Valentino caricature he read the paper, blinked his eyes a couple times, read it again. Picked it up and pulled it closer to his face like that would help, and his screen scrolled the words along the bottom like his internal system was trying to transcribe it so something he could understand. He finally dropped the paper with a groan, letting it flutter to the floor where it slipped under his chair and stopped just before you.

“Are you okay, sir?” The question is out before you can stop it, and as was the normal recently it took a few minutes for him to answer.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he muttered, swiveling around to look at you. He clutched the sides of his screen, eyes narrowed and mouth delayed in its movements as he spoke. “I feel like I can’t focus on anything. I can’t process anything. My- just, fucking everything is slow and useless in my head right now! How am I supposed to be a master media manipulator when I can’t fucking concentrate for more than two minutes at a time?”

“You have seemed more… stressed than usual,” you agree. “Are none of your usual relaxing activities helping? Or have you done any troubleshooting?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“Troubleshooting,” you say again, and at his blank stare you chuckle a little. “You know, doing a couple ‘quick fix’ things to see if that’s what’s causing the problem. Do you have like, a cache or something that you have to clear? An archive dump to get rid of old files?” You let your eyes track his body from top to bottom. “I’m not super familiar with how your… anatomy works?”

God, but you wanted to be.

He blinks a couple times. “I think I used to have someone that did that for me,” he says. “Years ago. I fired them because it didn’t seem necessary, I was running perfectly fine.”

“Yeah, well, that might be what the problem is.” You offer him a soft smile. “Sometimes stuff will work in sub-optimal conditions for a while before it starts causing issues. I used to do programming customer support when I was alive- it’s been a while but I could take a look if you want?”

His mouth twists in a frown. “I guess so,” he agrees. “I’m desperate enough to try anything. I need to be able to fucking concentrate if the Vees are gonna stay on top, everyone fucking knows that Val is hopeless with the business aspect of everything.” He gets the buffering symbol on his screen for a few seconds, groaning and shaking his head as he clears. “What do you need access to?”

“Do you have a way to access your… system? Externally,” you clarify. “I’m not a surgeon- I don’t plan on cutting into you to get to anything.”

Vox gestures behind him. “I can hook up to the monitors,” he says, “but we’ll have to be pretty close, doll. I have to be sitting here to be hooked up, and since this is the only chair, looks like this will have to be your seat.” He pats a hand on his thighs, not so much an invitation as a statement.

You fucking wished. You know this isn’t him trying to initiate anything though- you’d been trying for long enough that you’re ready to give it up and just accept that your hot, overlord boss didn’t want to fuck you. Helping him out felt more important than that anyway, so you would do your best.

“You got it,” you say, and cross the remaining space to perch yourself gracefully on his lap. You push the inappropriate thoughts about how firm his muscles are underneath you- how exactly did this man’s body work? Was it really just his head that was not organic matter?- and let him rotate the chair back to face the monitors.

The sight is intimidating, as is the position- you’re surrounded by reflections of yourself from every angle, Vox’s lithe frame seated behind you. This is where he does most of his business, the background site of everything that VoxTec handles. And he’s trusting you to help him fix whatever is wrong with him so he can get back to handling all of that, free of distraction.

You watch as thick wires come up from the floor to plug into the back of his head, the sharp hiss making you wonder if it was painful or intrusive. You won’t ask though, not when you’re getting ready to try to restore him to his usual ruthless self; he might consider that to be prying.

He pulls something up on the main monitor, the one that sits directly across from you, and waves a hand to it. A little keyboard and mouse emerge from the desk as the monitor powers on, and when you glance back you can see the same thing reflected on his face. “Have at it,” you hear him say, even though you can’t see his mouth moving.

Ignoring his open programs for the time being in case he needs any of them, the first thing you do is go in and clear his archived files. He’s got entire terabytes of useless information; employee records for people that have been dead or fired for decades; funny videos that he saved; resources for old news stories that are no longer relevant. Some of it you help him upload to a cloud server- after explaining to him what a cloud server is- and create files to designate for actual important shit.

You find the internal browser that he uses to pull information on the fly and help him clear the cache and cookies.

You help him sort security footage from Vee Tower and get rid of stuff that wasn’t actually necessary, like the short bits of static and dead air that happened whenever he used the cameras to teleport around the building. Everything that he has saved about mentions of that fucking radio demon also goes into the garbage. There are some files you can’t access, things like his memories and day to day recordings of conversations and things that he personally is part of.

You delete what you can and empty the recycling bin.

As the process has gone on, Vox has relaxed more and more behind you. “I still don’t feel completely back to normal,” he murmurs, “but this is already loads better. It’s like a massage directly on my brain. You know, if I still physically had one.”

You hit the keys to open his task manager- CTRL ALT DELETE. “Unholy fuck- Jesus, sir, if you thought that was good this is gonna feel orgasmic,” you say absently, scrolling through the opens apps and programs that he has running. Has this man ever closed anything? You hadn’t realized a person or device could even have so many things going at once. “Do you just leave everything open in the background?”

He peers around your shoulder, bracing his hands on your hips as he sits up a little straighter. The movement causes your stomach to drop, arousal threatening to make itself known, but you push the notion down as he sets his hands back on the arms of the chair. “I guess so?” He watches you scroll through the extensive list. “I guess it just never occurred to me to close them. Opening the programs to use is just like my stream of consciousness I suppose.”

“Kay, well, that’s stopping now.” You click on the first item on the list- VoxtaGram. “I recommend closing non-essential stuff out at least once a month. More, if you have the time to go through everything. For now, just in case, there is something important we’re gonna go through some of the more recently opened things, set them up to open automatically when you start up, before we reboot your system- wait, can we reboot your system entirely without killing you?”

“No worries there, dear. I can, I just haven’t done it in years because it can take a while to start back up afterwards.” He sneers at the social media page. “You can close that shit. Any of Velvette’s crap she can handle on her own. Same with any of the fucking games that Val loads up when he’s bored- can I delete those entirely? Or block them? Fucking moth and his blue-light addiction…”

You get through a lot of the list, Vox kind of dozing off and only passively participating in the process. You’ve got the gist of it; things like his news sources, contacts list and phone, and the notes app are staying open and set to automatically launch when he does reboot and start back up. Pretty much everything else is closed out, things he pulled up for two seconds weeks ago to check on something or another before abandoning it. You’re making excellent progress when the next thing on the list gives you pause.

“Vox? Why is this- oh my god.” You can’t help it- you start laughing, throwing your head back to rest on his shoulder as you look at what’s now displayed on the screen.

A stopwatch had apparently been started and never stopped. The elapsed time was over three thousand hours, which came out to something like four months if your mental math was correct. He had had this running constantly in the background since you had started working for him, possibly even before. “I think I found the problem,” you chuckled, and his eyes were narrowed as he looked at the timer continuing to tick. “What is this?”

“What the actual fuck?” He buffers for a second- and you’re pleased to note that it’s already much faster than it has been lately- before you hear a dinging sound coming from him. ‘Fucking Hell, I should have known this was all Valentino’s fault.” He drags a clawed hand down his screen in an imitation of a facepalm. “I was timing him. He was fucking ranting about Angel Dust again while we were in a strategy meeting with Velvette- I had the stopwatch going to see how much of the hour session he wasted talking about that whore. I must have forgotten to turn it off.” He barks out a laugh, throwing his head back with the force of it while you look at him with amusement. “I’m gonna owe you big time for this, doll, you’re a lifesaver.”

You close the app out with a smile. “Just trying to help,” you say. “I think that was probably the worst of it- do you want to just try rebooting now?”

He lets out a groan when the app closes, and the sound shoots through your body straight to your core. “Go for it, hun,” he says, eyes closed as he leans back against the chair. “I think I’m good to go now, but it can’t hurt. You were right, sorting this shit out feeling fucking good.”

You’re suddenly very aware of the dampness of your panties as you bypass ‘kinda horny’ straight to ‘fuck me on this desk.’ You scold yourself mentally: Don’t jump your boss. He’s trusting you to help him right now- do not take advantage of that. Do not ride his leg like you very clearly want to because his voice is fucking hot. Fucking focus.

You clear your throat, closing out the task manager and hitting the button to restart him. “See you in a bit, sir.”

You stay seated on his lap just in case- he might still have something he wants you to do when he comes back online, some settings you could apply to close out things that are used for more than a week or so. It’s definitely not because you like the feeling of his strong thigh underneath you, tantalizingly close to your cunt if you, by chance, decided to tilt your hips forward and start grinding down on him.

After just a few minutes get a message on the main monitor telling you to wait a moment- things start popping up on the other screens surrounding the central one, and it takes you a moment to recognize the pattern.

Its all videos of you- shot from Vox’s perspective, and a mortifying blush takes over your face. They’re all the moments that you had tried coming onto him. The innuendos and subtle entendres, the times that you touched him, pressed yourself against him in a tight space despite having another way to get to the copy machine, when you had invited him out for dinner. There’s also videos where he had just been watching you, apparently, taken from a distance as you spoke with Velvette or passed instructions along to a member of the team or discreetly tried to hide behind a vending machine when you noticed Val coming into a room.

There’s a satisfied grumble behind you, and before you can turn to look at him Vox has settled his claws onto either side of your waist and shifted you over a bit, to rest directly on the erection straining his pants.

Which is a surprise, albeit a pleasant one.

“Thanks for the reset, doll,” he says, and his voice is a quiet growl as he lets his hands wander from your waist to your hips and back again, claw tipped fingers catching on the fabric. “I got a chance to look at some files while I was under and found quite the treat in your logs.”

This could either be very bad or very, very good. “Sir-”

“You know, I’m usually pretty good at picking up what a woman is putting down. Imagine my surprise when I realize you’ve been coming onto me for weeks and my shit was so fucked up and bogged down that I didn’t even notice. Like that?” He uses one hand to point to a screen in the far left of the central monitor, while he snaked his other hand down to rest on your thigh, his hand large enough to encompass the muscle at the edge of your skirt. On the screen, you had come to his office to drop off meeting notes for something you attended on his behalf. You had dropped the stack as you came around his side of the desk, and got down fully on your knees to pick them up, glancing up at him through your lashes. You blush watching it now- it had seemed obvious to you even then, but watching it now, the way that Vox had seen it? When he didn’t say anything about you being face level with his prick you had used a hand on his thigh to brace yourself to stand up, letting your fingers run along the inner seam of his trousers when you rose back to standing. Still no reaction, and you had left his office equal parts turned on and irritated with yourself. Him not having acted on it had been the final nail in the coffin cementing the fact that he was not interested in the slightest.

You let out a weak exhale as the Vox sitting under you gets his other hand in the same position as the first, using his grip to ever so slightly spread your legs on his lap. He lets his fingers skim your inner thighs and you shake with the effort of not begging him to just touch you. This was delicious, agonizing torture.

“Had I been in my right mind for that display, baby, I would have fucking ṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧd̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓ y͙͙̪̰ͫ͌́o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡.” His voice crackles and glitches on the last words, and the sound of it forces a moan from your throat as you let your head fall back. You clutch your hands to the arms of the chair as his tongue- and who even really knew he had a tongue, what the fuck?- licks down the side of your jaw and at your exposed neck. “I would have had you choking on my cock before getting a taste of that sweet cunt and fucking you into the desk for hours.”

One hand finally slips under the edge of your skirt and you shiver when his fingers make contact with your soaked core. “Is that what you want now, babygirl? You want me to give you my cock as thanks for helping to set me straight? To make up for lost time?” He slides a finger under the thin material of your panties, groaning in your ear at how slick he finds you. “That’s what I want, doll. I want you to ride me so hard you go stupid with the feeling, and you never feel whole without some part of me in your cunt for the rest of for-fucking- ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧv̹̹̘̼̞̻͆ͩ̓ͪ͢ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟.”

“Fuck, please,” you gasp out, the word devolving into a cry as Vox finally slides a finger into you, mindful of the claws as he pushes in and quickly follows the first with a second. He uses his free hand to hold your hips still as you try to grind into his digits, keeps you held firmly against his erection as you squirm in pleasure.

His sharp fingertips angle to prod gently at a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars; your eyes are clenched shut as you ride the feeling, so close to the edge you feel like you’re going to implode with the force of it when you finally tip over. “Fuck, sir, please, so c-close,” you mumble, and his tongue is back to licking at whatever parts of your skin it can reach.

“You wanna come like this, sweetheart?” The main monitor in front of you glitches out, and when it comes back into focus you see yourself on the screen- like a mirror, you’re reflected, and you can see Vox’s grinning face behind you. Your skin is flushed, sweat dripping down your face, the hint of tears along your lashline as your mouth drops open when he adds a third finger. “Look fuckin’ beautiful, baby, you were made for this- maybe we give Valentino a call, he could-”

“No!” You release the arms of the chair to grab onto his wrists where his hands meet your body. “No one- no one but you, sir. Vox, please, l- let me come. Please?” You let a little whine into your voice, and you can see the way his mouth goes lax and his eyes laser-focus on where you’re grabbing at his hands.

“I didn’t mean to join us, dollface, just to record- but you’re right, you’re right.” He pulls his fingers from your pussy, slicing the center of your panties in the process before he brings his digits to his mouth- you watch on the screen as he curls his tongue around each one, licks the flavor of you from his skin and glitches out at the taste. “How could I possibly share such a fucking vision with anyone else?

He shifts you to one side so he can get his dick out, and the sight of it in the monitor, his own arousal beading at the top and rock hard, has you whimpering before it’s even inside of you. He carried himself like a man with a big cock, but Christ.

“Hope you like what you see, hun, cause it’s all yours.” He scoots forward in the seat, tilts his hips forward for the right angle, and moves you back into your previous position with ease- this time, the tip of him is pushing inside you, and you watch in the monitor as you sink inch by glorious inch onto him.

Once you’re fully seated, Vox seems to lose capability for rational thought. “Fuck me, you’re perfect,” he moans, bracing his feet more firmly on the ground to thrust up into you, getting a firm grasp on your hips to pull you down into it. The result is a beautiful stab at that sweet spot inside of you that makes you clench and cry out, watching Vox’s hypnotic eye start spiraling at its normal speed on the screen, and you can see backwards scrolling text of his stream of thoughts- a bunch of nonsensical letters and cuss words interspersed with your name. “I want to fucking- chain you to my desk so I can have this perfect pussy whenever I want it. Fuck, I can’t believe we- we could have been doing this for weeks.” He punctuates his sentence with a hard thrust.

“A-all the more reason to regularly clear your task manager, sir,” you say, so caught up in the feeling of him railing you from below that you can hardly believe you formed a coherent thought. He feels so fucking good and you’re a hair trigger away from collapsing and wringing him for all he’s got.

With one quick movement he’s shifted, and there’s a hand on your throat arching you backwards at the same time that he gets a couple clawed fingers rubbing at your clit. The shock of the combination makes you flutter around his length, a choked noise escaping your throat before he tightens his grip- not enough to really cut off your air supply, but enough that your brain starts going soft and mushy and the vice grip your cunt has on his cock gets impossibly tighter. You can see the shine of your slick arousal coating him every time he pulls out to rut back into you, and the sights and sounds are threatening to rip you into the chasm of ecstasy that you’re flirting with.

“Vox,” you whine, “please, I’m so fucking- please please please-“

“Christ, babygirl, whatever you fucking want.” His eyes are wide and frantic as they watch the place you’re joined, his mouth set in a snarl as he fucks into your pliant body. The cry you release is nothing short of agonized- it’s so fucking close you can taste it, nearly overwhelmed with the tension.

“You wanna fucking cum on my cock? Do it, angel, let me see it- come on, baby, cum for me-“

Your walls clench down hard as you reach your orgasm, Vox’s grip on your throat making your vision and mind go fuzzy with the force of it as you choke on a moan that tries to escape your tensed muscles. You’re distantly aware of Vox thrusting hard into you, more praise and curses falling from his lips as he hits his peak as well, pressing his screen to the side of your face when he relinquishes his handle on your throat to clutch at your hips and grind into your cunt as he spills inside of you. The aftershocks of your release leave you twitching, milking his cock of everything he has to offer before he collapses into the chair behind you, a boneless pile of a man now simply running his hands over any bit of skin he could reach.

It’s truly a testament to how helpful the reset and reboot had been that Vox’s system doesn’t simply crash. “Fucking Hell, I haven’t felt this good in decades,” he mutters in your ear, and you shiver at the feeling of his tongue brushing the sensitive skin.

“Ha, you think that’s the reboot or the mind-melting orgasms?”

He hums contentedly. “Jury’s out on that, doll. Guess we’ll have to do a re-run on both and see how it stacks up to this one.”

“I’ll make sure to schedule some time out for it,” you chuckle before fixing him with a stern glare through the monitor. “I’m serious about clearing your apps and shit more frequently though. Christ, you had decades of backed up shit open-“

“Don’t berate me while my dick is still inside you, fuck.” He leans you forward far enough to pull out, and you grimace at the feeling of his cum starting to spill back out of you. He notices the expression though- “Whoops, sorry,” he says, and after a quick second during which he tucks his softening prick away he scoops you into his arms, standing from the chair and stepping away from the desk. “Let’s get you cleaned up at the penthouse, angel, what do you say?”

“If you’re carrying me then lead the way.” You gesture towards the door out of the control room. “Just don’t start any timers to see how long it takes to get there or anything and we should be good.”

The glare he fixes you with shouldn’t be hot, but it fucking is. “Hardy har,” he deadpans, and rolls his eyes while he stalks towards the elevator, control room door closing behind you; but there’s a small smile on his screen despite his ire and he’s functioning normally, and when you see the little stopwatch icon pop up in the bottom right corner of his face and start counting, you can’t help but laugh.

#vox x reader #vox smut #hazbin vox #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #hazbin hotel #x reader #my stuff <3

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c-nstantine · 3 months

Text

Dick's Best Friend

Description: Being Dick Grayson's best friend comes with some benefits

Word Count: 0.7k

Warnings: Smut, oral smut, very poorily written oral smut

Being Dick Grayson's best friend was a constant circle of trying to prove that Y/N didn't want to date him and her maintaining a crush on him. Going on dates wasn't even fun when her best friend looked like a damn supermodel. Somehow she ended up with a guy from her job but she should've left as soon as she saw the cat art in his apartment.

"It couldn't have been that bad," Dick tried consoling his friend by patting her shoulder as she searched through Netflix on his flatscreen.

"It was. He tried to give me head and…" Y/N shivered and hugged herself at the thought. How someone with a big tongue kept missing the clit, she had no idea. Dick almost snorted at her reaction.

"Was it bad? I never understood how guys give bad head like it's so easy," Dick exclaimed, laying back on the sofa. He looked Y/N up and down, taking in her attire. She clearly was going on a date, and she looked sexy. Not that Dick would say that about his friend, that's weird.

"I'm glad you think it's easy," She mumbled, pulling her legs to her chest, which only exposed her thighs more. Dick almost felt like a perv looking over his best friend like that, but it wasn't his fault she was hot.

"I could show you," He offered, albeit a little too nonchalantly.

"What?" Her eyes almost bugged out of her head. Y/N knew her best friend was a bit of a whore, but this was a new reach even for her.

"I could give you head. It's a shame you got all dressed up just for it to go to waste," He said plucking at the slight hem of her dress. His eyes slightly glazed over and his tongue darted out to cross

"Dick, you're joking,"

"I'm not though. I bet you're wearing a thong with that dress. Let me get a peak," He clocked how she didn't have a panty line the minute she walked through the door. Being a detective had its perks on occasion.

"No strings?" She whispered, tempted to give him everything he'd ever wanted from her.

"No strings," He spoke with no hesitation. His eyes dropped to her mouth and her lips never looked more inviting but he was sure that would scare her away.

"C'mon lover boy," She stood and walked to his bedroom as she'd done hundreds of times before for their movie marathons. She sat on his bed and honestly, it was a bit more awkward than she'd imagined. That was until Dick pushed flat on her back and hooked her legs over his shoulders. He was mumbling something incoherently as he pushed her dress up.

"I've been waiting for this," He said pressing a kiss to the then mesh material of her thong.

"What?" She raised her head up to ask. She was quickly silenced by the sound of her thong ripping. She was wetter than he thought she'd be. Had she wanted this for as long as he had?

Starting with a kiss on either thigh before kissing her clit caused Y/N let out a small gasp. His tongue began to toy with her delicate folds as his face pressed further and further into her. Her hips rocked against her face as his tongue traced his name on her pussy, not that she could tell. Her wetness began to drip down his chin onto his sheets but Dick couldn't be bothered with that right now. Not when he had the girl of his dreams literally moaning because of his mouth.

"Fuck, Dick," One hand of hers had gripped his scalp, making it damn near impossible for him to move. She could feel him smirking as his tongue brought her near her peak. He spread her legs wider than before and mercilessly attacked her clit.

He could feel her pussy twitch around his tongue and that only egged him on more. He wanted, he needed her to cum on his face. It would make his entire night if she did. With a couple more quick flicks to her clit, she did and Dick had never seen something as beautiful as his best friend cumming. He backed away from her pussy but kept one hand tracing her clit as he lay next to her, just to help her ride out her orgasm.

"So?" He asked, looking at her with puppy dog eyes.

"I see why you're friends with all of your exes now," Y/N joked.

#x black!reader #black!reader #x black reader #black reader #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x black reader #dick grayson x black!reader #dick grayson smut

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petermorwood · 5 months

Text

Potato Crisps / Chips on Tasting History

So we've just watched Max's latest...

youtube

...and I was grinning a bit because I posted about Dr Kitchiner's 1817 (non-US, definitely non-Saratoga) crisps / chips recipe a month ago.

That image was from an American edition of his book; I've found a pic from the original - NB that these slices are floured before frying.

For reference, here's a two-penny piece from about 1797; the coin would still be current 20 years later:

...and here's how thick the potatoes should be sliced. That's 4mm, which is 2mm less than "a quarter of an inch" (6.25mm).

The slices will get even thinner as their moisture evaporates during frying, and, given the nature of recipes, potatoes cooked this way are probably even older than 1817 and Kitchiner's is just the first appearance found so far in print.

*****

The first recipe for "Game Chips" (an accompaniment to grouse, pheasant etc.) appeared, per the Wikipedia link, in a 1903 book published by famous chef Auguste Escoffier (1846-1935):

"Chip potatoes - these are potatoes cut into thin slices; this is usually done with a special plane. (A mandoline.) They are put in cold water for 10 minutes; then drained, dried in a cloth and fried until very crunchy. They are served hot or cold and generally accompany game roasted in the English style."

However, per Escoffier's Wikipedia page, much of his work was based on that of Anton Carême (1783-1833), whose dates are squarely coincident with Dr Kitchiner's Potato Slices.

Given the amount of cookery to-and-fro between England and France after the Napoleonic wars were over, it's impossible to say who first came up with the idea of potato crisps.

The French loved dainties - "un petit quelquechose", a little something - which the English pronounced and dismissed as "kickshaws", something over-fussy yet insubstantial. Yet those same English also loved roasting things with their appropriate accompaniments.

(I'm writing this just over a week after Christmas, and have been well reminded that the phrase "Roast (turkey / goose / beef) With All The Trimmings" is still in common 21st-century use.)

If those roasted things were game birds, only those above a certain level in society would be eating them, so it's not unreasonable to assume a rich-person game bird would attract fussy, time-consuming rich-person trimmings like, okay, Game Chips.

One thing's for sure, Potato Crisps - and Game Chips too, so hard luck, Escoffier - are almost certainly older than even Tasting History could prove.

*****

BTW, they also existed at a time when "English Food Was Bland" is more fake history.

Sauces put out on the table in fancy bottles had fancy labels ("bottle tickets") showing what was in them, and the contents were often far from bland.

Quin sauce was anchovy-based, hot and pungent.

Harvey's was a spicy sauce similar to Worcestershire, ketchup was probably mushroom and also spicy; the other two need no elaboration.

AFAIK the two crescent-shaped ones in the next pics are deliberate imitations of an officer's rank-gorget.

Finally a generic Not-Bland label that would go on any number of modern bottles (antique silver, yours for £250)...

*****

And after all of the above, I could do Very Bad Things to a packet of Tayto Cheese 'n' Onion. A packet?

Why stop at a packet when A Pack takes less time to say?

After all, It Is Written that:

"Reading One Book Is Like Eating One Potato Crisp Chip."

And also that Nothing Exceeds Like Excess...

#food and drink #potato crisps #game chips #Tasting History with Max Miller #Diane Duane #Reading one book is like...#...like eating one potato chip #wise words maxims and apothegms #Youtube

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g-xix · 9 months

Text

Pregnant | Harry Lewis

Hey girlies, here's a Harry oneshot for the W2S girls, requested by someone on Wattpad... Ik Whoetoshaw has alr done way longer + more in depth sort of oneshot for this so creds to her ofc. Here's a cute pic of Harry to prepare you tho:

Very fitting!!! Anyways: Content: Pregnancy scare, female hormones, 2k wordcout CW's: Pregnancy scares + mentions of abortion

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

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The two bright red lines glared up at me angrily.

I couldn't believe it.

Slapping a hand to my mouth, I felt as though the life around me were distorting, those bright two lines indicating the new life forming in my stomach.

"Y/n? You all alright in there?" Georgia's voice called from outside the bathroom. I felt my hands shaking, I couldn't comprehend it was really true. Tears began burning in the corners of my eyes, distorting the dizzying LED's around me. There was commotion around me- a door slammed open, a familiar face with a look of horror as they looked at me- lay across the bathroom floor- I couldn't tell you what happened in the space of ten minutes, but before I knew it I was sat opposite Georgia in the kitchen- steaming mug of tea in my hands.

She looked at me sombrely, a hot mug in her hands as well.

"So, when are you gonna tell him?" She questioned, raising her mug for a sip.

"Who?"

"Harry."

Oh God. I had to tell Harry. Boyfriend of five years, best friend, considerable soulmate.

And somehow the thought of telling him still made me pale inside.

We'd never talked about babies before... Pregnancy or even babysat for a friend! And having a baby meant a lot of responsibility we hadn't considered. We both had far too much on our plates. I had a nine-to-five, he had all of his YouTube biz, and we barely even had time or thought for holidays together, anymore.

"Soon." I gulped, palely.

...

"We're going out for drinks tonight- Mia and Faith coming along as well, you wanna come?" Harry mentioned casually,

"Oh, yeah sure I-" I choked on my breath as I remembered, coughing and burning my lungs as I hacked up a bit of inhaled saliva. Harry's hand found my back, slapping it as though he were trying to hit the cough out of me. "O-on other notes, I think I'll pass."

"You're not one to pass on meeting up with the girls, you got a bit extra work?" Harry questioned, face showing concern as he tried to read my expression.

I turned my back to him, facing the fridge to avoid eye contact as I responded dejectly.

"Yeah." I spoke shortly. I could feel the burning in my lungs slowly sinking in my stomach and sitting like a volcano getting ready to erupt. Every morning, throwing up had been getting worse and worse. It felt as though no matter what I ate (or didn't eat) for dinner, every morning the sickness hit with the same knee-weakening magnitude. I was sure Harry was asleep most mornings when I threw my body over the toilet bowl, given I woke at 3am with the sickening urges.

And I didn't want him to see me throw up all over the kitchen after missing out on an opportunity to see Faith and Mia again.

"You want me to stay? I don't mind staying in tonight if you wanna spend some time-"

"God's sake, shut up Harry." I snapped "Just go without me- I've never stopped you before, have I."

An uncomfortable silence settled between us, tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife.

I didn't mean to shout at him- I don't know why I snapped.

"S-sorry." He softly spoke, voice filled with downcasted sadness. His voice only made my heart ache more, and I turned to try and meet his eyes- babble an apology- but as I turned to try and meet his soothing blue eyes, I was instead met with the door closing behind me.

The pull on my heartstrings making the tears well in my eyes was clearly too close to the stomach- as I felt my inside swirling, bile building in my oesophagus.

Before I knew it I was back at the toilet bowl, hands clasped around the lid with my knuckles going white as I had whole body shakes. My eyes squeezed shut, throat burning as I coughed up residual acid that lingered in my throat, spitting out all that amalgamated, nauseating fluid in my mouth.

And then after the coughs, it all began dawning on me again.

No more going out for drinks.

No more spontaneous planning.

No more irresponsibility.

Those coughs began developing into dry heaves, tears trickling down my cheeks as my breathing became erratic, broken cries and raw sounds coming from a throat I couldn't even believe was my own.

My body shook with each cry- weak and unstable- and only trembling more as I realised I wasn't just shaking myself. That tiny life form- a consequence of my carelessness- shook with me with each choked sob.

A vibration from my pocket was pulled out with quivering fingers, spotting Georgia's name.

I swiped on on the accept button, lips sealing together as I tried to zone into Georgia's voice.

"Hey girl, you doing alright?"

"M-maybe... Why, has s-something happened?"

"Not really, just wanted to know- have you told Harry yet or are you still-"

I felt that anger building inside me again. It wasn't her fucking problem- easy for her to pressure me- try and advise me and tell me I ought to tell him despite having zero fucking knowledge on what it feels like-

"GEORGIA, FUCK OFF I DON'T NEED THIS SHIT-" I threw the phone out of the bathroom door, hearing it hit one of the bedroom walls. "FUCK. OfF..."

My voice breaking was the last straw before I began losing it hysterically once more. My throat burnt as more acid crept up my oesophagus and found its way into the toilet, tears streaming down my face like a river now- chest rapidly rising and falling as I clutched at my head- everything making me light hearted.

The lights went off after that.

Pulling the pulley down, the lights went off. I didn't want to be seen. I want to see the reflection of a broken woman who I knew was myself. I cried in the dark instead of facing myself and what had happened.

Until I lay back flat against the cool tiles. I had gone through the motions. Dramatic sobs until there was no more liquid and I could only dry heave- to now- simply staring up at the ceiling, eyes tired and breathing steady with the exception of an occasional erratic choke.

It could have been just a few minutes, or a few hours that I just lay there.

Head empty, stomach empty, body feeling completely light. As though I weren't even alive.

I felt like shit.

I shouldn't have snapped at Harry.

I shouldn't have shouted at Georgia.

I shouldn't have thrown my phone.

I'll tell him when he comes back, Georgia, I spoke internally. Promise. For you.

My mind flicked through the variety of ways he could respond to hearing it. Eventually I filtered it down to a few.

Best case scenario: He's too drunk to understand it and just falls asleep, unable to comprehend what I'd said.

Worst case scenario: He completely sobers up and tells me to leave. Get out, blocks me on everything, does everything in his power to never see me again.

Of course, there were also a few alternatives:

Maybe he would start packing and get ready to spend the night at a friend's to sober up- not believing what he'd heard.

It was a possibility he might pass out from the news.

Or he could agree to support me, but only if I agree to abort it- him- her- whatever it was.

That final thought was sickening. I couldn't abort it. Of course - I physically could have it aborted... But I couldn't do that to something living. A part of me. I didn't like the thought of something growing inside of me- but that didn't mean I was going to be cruel enough to kill it. No matter how poorly Harry reacted.

A jangle of keys outside the door was enough to get me onto my feet- rushing back into the bedroom as I heard the front door opening.

"Y/n?" His voice called from the front room.

I jumped onto the bed, finding my phone and running my finger over the dent it had left in the wall. That would need fixing as well.

"Y/n? You around?" Harry's voice peeked around the door, finding me sat on the bed. Hands held in lap, phone clasped between shaking fingers. I looked at Harry's head, hair scruffy, and the smile on his face sincere. And the lack of redness in his eyes and cheeks gave me the impression he hadn't drank - or at least he hadn't drank much.

"You don't look like you've gone out." I commented on Harry's appearance. He smiled as he entered the bedroom, shutting his door behind him.

"Decided to skip." He responded, leaning his back against the door, holding a plastic baggie in his hands.

You should tell him. The voice spoke in my head. I knew I should. And there was not better time than now to tell him.

"I have something to tell you." "I have something to tell you."

I lowered my head and chucked slightly as the two of us let out laughs, our synchronisation amusing despite the fact it felt as though my heart were going to explode in my chest.

"I'll go first," Harry offered, though I shook my head.

"No, I want to-"

"I can- I don't mind, I mean-"

"No, seriously, Harry. I've got something more... uhm, important."

I could feel tears welling in my eyes as I went. The dip in the bed and the heavy arm that made its way around my shoulder indicated Harry at my side. I couldn't hold it in as again, I felt a choked sob make its way from my lips.

"I'm pregnant, Harry-"

I cut myself off with another pathetic sob, my head burying into Harry's shoulder as he wrapped his other arm around me, cradling and rocking us back and forth. My head ached as I let myself cry onto his hoodie shoulder, my hands weakly grasping onto the soft material as the second batch of tears for the day slipped down my cheeks.

I wiped my nose, pulling away to look at my boyfriend after the worst of the sobbing was over, my tired red eyes meeting his own pacifying blue ones.

"I know." He softly spoke, his lips curling up slightly with a small smile as he watched my expression drop to blank slate instantly.

"W-what?" I stuttered, the words not resonating as I suddenly felt so light it were as though I weren't even there. His eyes curved into little crescents as he giggled.

"I know, Y/n, I know, I know, I know." I closed my eyes, breathing in and out deeply, wanting to pinch my arm. Was I even awake?

"Please explain what the hell is happening," I asked with a short laugh, still not really processing what was happening.

"I figured, Y/n. After all the morning sickness-"

"I thought you were asleep during that?"

"I heard the end of your throwing up and toilet flush in the morning... I feel worse I always woke up too late to help you through it. But I noticed your morning sickness, not coming out to drink, the unusual mood changes..."

"Yeah, sorry for snapping at you." I chuckled, and he just rubbed my back. "So... what now?"

"Well, I went out and I got some things for us- sorry, for you." He pulled the plastic Tesco's bag from the side of the bed, digging through it. "I got you some Häagen-Dazs- the praline flavour because I know it's your favourite- and these flowers because Faith advised to get those on the phone- oh, and also-"

He pulled a fluffy piece of clothing and gestured for me to take it. I couldn't tell what exactly the item was, but as I pulled it apart, I realised it was a tiny little baby one-piece, so small it was barely the side of my head.

It was perfect. He was perfect. My boyfriend, my baby daddy, My Harold. I felt as though I could cry again, but refrained as I turned to face Harry.

"So you're... okay with having a baby?"

"...Yeah." He began nodding his head in self-support. "We can do this."

"You aren't mad or anything?"

"Mad?" He looked aghast at the thought. "Bloody hell, no! I'm actually kind of... excited."

I couldn't believe it. A laugh fell from my lips, realising there wasn't any problems. That Harry was fine with all of it. And he supported it. Me. We were going to be fine.

"Fuck, I love you Harry."

He connected his lips with mine and I couldn't have felt happier as the fireworks in my stomach exploded, lips curling into a smile as I realised:

Maybe it was all gonna be okay.

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Hope you enjoyed reading!! Feel free to interact- whether that be a comment, vote or follow! Requests open, feel free to submit what u wanna see... Much love!!

To see more, here's my MASTERLIST

And here's my WATTPAD, with 50+ more oneshots to read

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audaciousacolyte · 7 months

Note

Could I request Sonic x Reader where they were childhood friends and now are dating several years down the line? 👉👈

Best friend boyfriend

Sonic the hedgehog x Childhood friend!reader

《|| AN: Heya!! Terribly sorry for the long wait, I've been cooking up quite a few little treats that I think that all of you will enjoy!! That being said the following headcanons are based on my own, personal thoughts on sonic as a whole. I hope you enjoy!!! ||》

FLUFF (Pre-crush)

◇| As many of us know, Sonic the hedgehog is the coolest guy around.

◇| Whether he’s rolling around at the speed of sound (Haha), or fighting off Dr.Eggman, he’ll be having a blast and a half doing it.

◇| I’d think that sonic met you while on one of his many adventures, probably around the same time he first met Knuckles or Amy. Maybe he saved you from a badnik attack? Or maybe you popped up to try and stop the mad doctor yourself?

◇| However the two of you met, He’s ecstatic to have another buddy to horse around with! (He wouldn’t admit it though, (mostly because he can’t) but also because he has an emotionally unavailable bad boy image to maintain!)

◇| Be prepared for him to drag you along on all of his adventures, because once the two of you are friends, he’s going to mess around and have fun with you whether you like it or not!!

(Post Crush)

◇♡| Sonic is, and will likely continue to be, incredibly emotionally evasive. This boy can, will and has run from his feelings like they were coming to drag him to the very bottom of the ocean.

♡◇| Seriously, he runs from his demons like nobody’s business. And you and I are VERY well aware of how fast sonic can run.

◇♡| When he DOES eventually begin to consider the thought that MAYBE he likes you more than a friend should, Sonic gets…well, not nervous exactly, but definitely a bit WEARY around you. Probably tries to play it “cool” (or cool-er, I guess) around you, but usually ends up making a complete fool of himself

♡◇| (It’s fine though, you usually just laugh it off or play it down to spare his pride. He REALLY appreciates it.)

◇♡| He likely only begins to acknowledge his feelings after he meets Elise during the (very confusing) events of Sonic ‘06. (And also because Tails keeps teasing him about his (BIG, FAT, VERY OBVIOUS) little crush)

◇♡| Genuinely has no clue what he’s supposed to do with this information. He’ll probably just…sit on the fact that he likes you like that for a while. (And then go to Amy or Rouge for help, because what else is he supposed to do?)

♡| You are going to have to make the first move. Full stop.

♡| Sonic may be impulsive and quick on the uptake, but he’s got NEGATIVE ZERO relationship experience. He is out of his depth already with this crush, he’s not about to confess to someone he’s known for practically half his life at this point.

(Post dating)

♡| MASSIVE FLIRT, he will tease and fluster you FOR AGES. he WILL NOT get tired of it, EVER.

♡| (However, If you flirt back, he’ll turn into a flushed red mess… he can dish it out, but he sure can’t take it!)

♡| REALLY likes holding your hand, he finds it soothing to know that you’re never too far away from him while out and about. Sonic probably also plays with your fingers a lot as well.

♡| ADVENTURE DATES,ADVENTURE DATES,ADVENTURE DATES

♡| I feel like Sonic would probably do stupid shit in front of you to show off.

♡| He has done ENTIRE CHOREOGRAPHED ACROBATIC ROUTINES while fighting eggman’s mechs when you were around as a way to showboat. (Nobody knows where he learned to do this, but it worked way too well for anybody to complain.(Eggman was so confused that he just…stopped functioning for a hot minute. He genuinely did not know what to do))

♡| Will do stupid little victory dances on Badniks for no reason other than to see you smile.

♡| Loves, loves, LOVES when you are goofy with him. It’s just so endearing to him!

♡| Please, for the love of all that is holy, play with his quills when y’all are cuddling!! He may say he hates it because it messes up his ‘do, but he actually loves it! (he does get a bit freaked out when you don’t do it though. He thinks that he did something to upset you if you don’t mess with his quills and will frantically try to “win” your love back or something)

#sonic the hedgehog x reader #sonic x reader #sonic the hedgehog #Bright blue hero

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marleyybluu · 8 months

Text

Two And Counting

husband/dad!Oscar Diaz x fem!reader

Word count: 1.5k

Content warning: 18+, smut in your rearview mirror, just a quickie, pregnancy sex, p in v, reverse cowgirl in the bathtub (heeeeeyyyy), just two people in love, some fluff, Oscar is vocaaaal, talks you through it.

A/N: I was high so excuse any misspellings, definitely not proof-read. Also I've never been pregnant lol so I have no idea if this would work irl, but hey that's why we're here, this is not real life.

this was fun to write lol but I lowkey don’t like the title

(not my picture, got it from Pinterest. I want him to **** ** *****)

It was late at night, the house was quiet. Almost too quiet. You were so used to hearing your five-year-old call your name, the repetitive "Mommy! Mommy!" Still ringing in your ear. You sighed, you'd dropped him off at your mother's house for the weekend, he loved going to grandma's and honestly? You needed a break. Just at least an hour to yourself. But now it was so strange not hearing him babbling around the house.

Once you'd come back home you had taken a well-deserved shower but after your shower, you just felt the weird urge to soak in a bath. So you hovered over to the detached bathtub and filled up the tub, squeezing a bit of your bubble bath into the water. You carefully dipped yourself inside the tub, and a sigh of relief and satisfaction left your lips. You smiled closing your eyes one hand on the rim of the tub and the other, palm splayed all over your growing belly. Six months. They'd gone by so quickly, your stomach grew— a huge difference between two months ago and now. It was crazy.

"Hi pumpkin, you okay in there?" You mumbled rubbing soothing circles on your belly. The flick of the bathroom light and the bright beams of the fluorescent bulb ruined your little relaxation time. You looked over your shoulder, your husband Oscar standing in the doorway. Wearing his flannel pyjama pants and... no shirt. Mhm.

His tattoos are on display for you, his arms crossed and his biceps flexed. Why did he have to be so hot? "You two having a good time in here?" He asked. "We were, turn off the light, that's what my candles are for." You complained. Oscar rolled his eyes turning off the light at your command, he walked in, now leaning against the counter. You smiled. "Done with your game?"

He nodded.

"Hungry? There are leftovers-"

"Already ate cariño." He interrupted. You nodded slowly. "How's baby doing?" A smile creeps on his face. He'd been showing all thirty-two teeth since you told him you were expecting another. You shuddered with delight remembering how he was when you were carrying your son. Oscar always had his hands on you, wanting to bend you over anywhere and anytime. He expressed how much he loved seeing you like this. Beautifully in your element, sugarcoating you by saying, moaning; "You were made to carry my babies." As he seemingly pumped another one inside you.

"He's good."

"She." He corrected. He was certain you were having a girl. "She." You mocked, though it did make your heart flip at the thought of him holding a baby girl.

He asks, "Do you want some more company in there?"

Your eyes twinkle at the offer and that's all the confirmation he needed before he began pulling down his pyjama pants off, his boxers were next. You gaze lasering down to his half-hard dick, your tongue swipes across your bottom lip. You nodded eagerly and made some room for him, you scooted forward and he sat behind you pulling you onto him once he was comfortable. You perch on his lap, leaning back into his hold. He wrapped his arms around you, a warm kiss on your cheek. "Te amo." He whispered. "Te amo. You miss Raphi yet?" You giggle. "I missed him the minute we left your mom's place."

"Hm, me too." You hummed. Oscar's hands refused to stay in one place, rubbing circles on your belly, measuring the perimeter with his hands. "I can't believe we're having another one." He whispered. "I know," Your hands overlapping his. "We gotta have like four more."

You gasped lightly pinching him. "Do you see what pregnancy does to a woman's body?"

"I see what it does to yours. And I love it."

Oscar couldn't keep his eyes off of you, you could always feel him staring through you-- a "You are so fucking fine." Would slip out every time. You playfully rolled your eyes, his hands sliding to the underside of your belly, a bit close to your heat, you not so subtly buck your hips forward. You moan at the faint brush of his dick against your pulsating clit.

"We can have one more, and then we're done." You sighed, his hand slipped down further, his palm hovering over your mound. "Three." He bargained. There was no way this was happening right now.

Your nipples poke you, his teasing was getting to you. "One." You insisted. He chuckled as his slender finger ran down your slit, teasing your hole. Your legs spread a bit wider but there wasn't much room in the tub. His warm lips sucking on your soapy skin, you smell like lavender and fucking sunshine, that's how you always smelt. So warm and inviting. That's how you were and that's why loved you so much.

"Two." His last offer before his fingers slowly find their way inside you. "Ooh... Oscar."

You could feel a smile of victory against your skin, he took his fingers out and rested them on your clit. Your hips buck once again. "Two." He said.

For fuck sake!

"Okay, okay, two. Just move, please."

He laughed, you'd scowl at him if he didn't start rubbing your bundle of nerves. Your head fell back on his shoulder, one hand worked between your legs while the other squeezed your sensitive breasts, tweaking your nipples. You whined moving your hips forward, you didn't even care anymore, you were so desperate to get to where you needed to be.

Oscar groaned, "Mi amor, despacito, you're so needy."

"Oscar, fuck, please. I just want you inside me." You cried out. He kissed your back, his hands on your waist as he adjusted you over his full length, he slipped in carefully. Your eyes disappeared, the whites were the only part that showed, your jaw slacked open. "¿Estas bíen?"

You could only manage to nod. He slid down the tub, lying down at an angle so you could be comfortable, you lay back on him and with his help, you raise your hips up and down on his shaft. He was stretching you out in the best way, a delicious sensation coursing through your skin as he penetrated you so deeply, fuck you were so full.

"My pretty baby. Look at how fucking pretty you are. I'm keeping you pregnant." He cooed mumbling the last part. If he kept making you feel this good, you might just give him what he wants. His mushroom tip poked and prodded at the sweet spot buried inside you. You cry and clench around him, your pussy almost weeping and begging for more. "Coño Bonita."

Your head lulled back as he whispered in your ear, nibbling on the lobe from time to time. "You feel so good, so soft. fuck." He strained. His hand found its way between your thighs once again, his fingers playing with your equally needy clit. It was becoming too much. "Oh god, baby... O-Oscar!"

You were there. You were right there.

"I-I'm- I'm-"

"I know, it's okay, go ahead."

As if you needed the permission you didn't know you were asking for. Your body twitched, legs shaking as they closed around his wrist that was still snug between them. You squirmed, your orgasm taking over your body. Electricity piercing your veins. "Keep coming for me, don't worry."

He was using you to get himself to his peak and it was hot, he wasn't stopping, your body continuously moving up and down. Hugging his thickness for his pleasure. "I'm cumming, in that pretty fucking pussy, hermosa."

You were long gone, your body limp as your high was coming down. You quietly moaned feeling his hot seed spread inside you, you giggled lazily. "Fuck..." He chuckled. "You okay?"

"Mhm." You sounded sleepy. "Come on, we'll clean off before you fall asleep in here." He laughed.

You let him do all the work, washing you off before himself then helping you out of the tub wrapping a towel around you.

You quickly dried off and headed inside your shared bedroom, going over to your side of the dresser where all your products stood. You did your usual night routine and once you were done you found yourself in one of his old shirts and one of his baggy shorts. He laughed lightly as he entered the room.

You looked down at yourself, you did look a bit ridiculous. "What?" You pouted. He made his way over to you, his hands cupping your face, your palms cuffing his wrists. "You are so fucking cute and I fucking love you." He smiled pressing a kiss to your lips, you dissolved in his touch, melting into his kiss. He pulled back slightly but you chased him reattaching your lips.

There was that feeling between your legs again. "Ma-mamita." He chuckled as you smooched him. You whined. He kissed your forehead letting go of your face. His hand hitting your, lately overly ample, ass. You squealed. "Get on the bed." He instructed untucking his towel from his waist.

"Wha-"

He spanked you again.

"I'm trynna show you why we're gonna have four more."

If you liked this fic feel free to like this fic, reblogs and comments are appreciated. see you in the next one. peace and love 🤙🏾

Tags: @darqchilddaydreamz @realhotgurlshit @skyesthebomb

who might be interested: @blkbutterfly816 @miyahmaraj @librarian1002 @bigenergy777

#oscar diaz #spooky x reader #oscar diaz x fem!reader #spooky fanfic #spooky fanfiction #on my block fanfic #on my block #on my block fanfiction #smut #oscar diaz smut #marleywrites #marleysfanfictions

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madlori · 23 days

Text

Here's where I am with Buddie.

[CW: I am using the Buddie tag on this post, even though the gist of it is that I'm increasingly doubtful that it'll ever happen. This is NOT an anti-Buddie essay. If you'd rather not read about this topic, please keep scrolling. The bulk of the essay is behind the cut.]

-------

I've thought a lot about this over the weeks since 7x04 aired. It's not a secret that I'm wildly enthusiastic about the BuckTommy pairing (as are many fans) but what does that mean for my thoughts and opinions about Buddie, a pairing I still love and for which I am still writing fic (slowly but surely…)?

It's become increasingly difficult to reconcile hopes for Buddie with dread for a BuckTommy breakup, but if the show managed to pull off a breakup that did not destroy me, I would still be all in for a Buddie endgame.

But more and more, I don't think it's in the cards, and I'm increasingly okay with that.

First off, I know it's a common assumption that Buck and Tommy have an expiration date, and that it cannot last. That may very well be the case, but…the show is not acting like it, nor are they presenting this arc as if it's short-lived. Episodes 4-6, while also being about other things (especially the amazing Madney wedding plot in 6) were also a bit of a trilogy about Buck discovering his sexuality and taking tentative steps into a relationship with another man. It didn't go…particularly smoothly, but the events of 7x06 where they were concerned had a completely different tone. They had a much more settled vibe in the karaoke club scenes, from Tommy's very boyfriendly "check-in" look before he had to leave, to Buck's casual/distracted "Be safe" (as if he's said this before) and just how they spoke to each other and touched each other was much more comfortable than in the coffee meetup. Which makes me think it's been a few weeks and they've seen each other a few times in the interim.

And then that kiss. Putting aside that it was juxtaposed with a literal wedding kiss, there was nothing uncertain or hesitant about it. It felt like a very arc-capping kiss, coupled with the reveal to the rest of Buck's friends and family, and the clear message was "Okay, they're done 'getting together' now, they are together and will be together going forward, even if we don't see Tommy every episode (much as we don't see Karen every episode)." We know Tommy will be around through the end of S8, if not in every remaining episode. After that, we'll see.

A lot of fans have viewed one of the guys coming out as queer to be a first step towards a Buddie future, but I have to say I've never been super comfortable with that logic. I've always thought that if they were going to get together, or both be revealed to be queer, it would have to be at the same time, with each other, via them getting together. The minute they pulled the trigger on Bisexual Buck, I immediately thought that this made Buddie far less likely. Why?

Because it would mean that the writers/showrunners would be making BOTH their "hot younger firefighter" characters queer…separately. In separate storylines. Distinct from each other. And I just don't see that happening. I'm not saying it SHOULDN'T happen. I'd be over the moon. I'm saying I think that's unlikely.

As much as it pains me to say it, I think Eddie will be written as straight and will continue to be written as straight. I don't disagree with the many examples of queer coding we've all seen - the problem is all of them can be just as easily interpreted as arising from a different trauma. Almost everything we've seen from him that could very legitimately be read as breadcrumbs for a queer identity for him could also be rooted in his trauma over Shannon's death, his family trauma, his PTSD, or his general anxiety over being enough for people. He can be read as having sexuality crises. But he can also be read as having other crises with the same results.

I'm not seeing a sexuality crisis for Eddie in the future. I just don't feel like that's where they're taking him. They're taking him somewhere -- he's got storylines coming up -- but I think they're going to have to do with his family, possibly his friendship with Buck, maybe his relationship (I think we can all agree Marisol isn't going to last, she's like the anti-Tommy in that she's been around way longer but has infinitely less of a presence), and Christopher. That's a lot to deal with just right there. If I'm wrong, I will be delighted to be wrong.

But.

I think the show will continue to prioritize and showcase Buck and Eddie's very deep and emotional friendship, which is revolutionary in its own quiet way. Another thing that makes me think they're setting Tommy up to be a long term love interest is that one of the first things they did with him was affirm that he will not come between Buck and Eddie, give him his own relationship with Eddie and Chris, and have him show that he understands and respects the depth of their bond. Not to mention they've integrated him with the firefam. No other of Buck's love interests have gotten this treatment (Taylor had the most contact with the firefam, but I don't think anyone would say she was integrated, LOL). And it shows how committed they are to maintaining Buck and Eddie's friendship as a key emotional element of the show. Tim has also said this, repeatedly.

People often say that there's no explanation for how Buck and Eddie are with each other if it's not romantic - I read a fantastic essay that pointed out that this statement is the reason their platonic friendship IS so important. Men should be able to be vulnerable and loving with each other without it being romantic, as women can be. If we're unable to see a loving friendship without interpreting it as romantic or sexual, what does that say about the kind of male friendships we see everywhere, that makes this one so different?

I know this is an old anti-Buddie argument and I'm not anti-Buddie nor do I mean it's wrong to see it as romantic. I still do. I'm saying if it's not, if it never is, what it is, is already valuable and special, especially when one of them is now openly queer and dating a man.

Anyway. That's where I am with it, and my interpretation of where the show is with it.

#buddie #bucktommy #9-1-1 #911 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #tommy kinard #tevan #kinley #buck x tommy #meta #9-1-1 meta #shippy thoughts

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brokenpieces-72 · 2 months

Text

Stray Fluff

This is part 2. Part 1 is here. If you have any ideas or want to be included in the Taglist, leave a comment or send me a request. In this fic you are a dog, 100% canine, not a human. Enjoy.

“Pffah!” Johnny spat as he fruitlessly held out his arms for cover, and turned his head away while you shook your fur once again. The soap went everywhere including Johnny’s face, getting a bit in his mouth. Kyle shielded himself as well, as you wagged your tail unaware of their displeasure.

“Maybe we should call you trouble.” Kyle suggested, looking right at you. You just panted happily. Kyle couldn't stay mad at that face.

“Don’t name it Gaz ya’ll just get attached.” Johnny said, grumpily.

“The dog isn’t going much of anywhere mate. They’re staying here until we get a transfer sorted for them.” Gaz reminded him.

“Alright get over here mutt.” Soap commands. You obey, but not how he wanted. You walked over to him for another round of shampoo, and jumped up to lick his face, getting him even more soaked and drenched than before. Kyle was sympathetic enough to pull you off of Johnny who was getting fed up with your antics.

Price was still on video call with Laswell trying to figure out what can be done about the poor dog. Meanwhile Laswell was still trying to figure out how to deal with a dog and getting it safely off the base.

“And it stole a ration?” She asked.

“A potato yes. Soap was very adamant.” Price said, with a hint of sarcasm behind his statement.

“Hmm…” Laswell said before starting to mutter over the video call.

“You’re breaking up watcher.” Price commented.

"The dog is from an animal testing facility. Beauty products most likely." Kate exclaimed.

"Dog doesn't show any signs of testing, at least none that I've noticed." Price pointed out.

“There’s a stamp on the collar with a few numbers and a small logo but I can't make out what the logo is. This is very strange, John."

“Tell that to my sergeants currently giving the mutt a flea bath." Price commented. There was a small chuckle from Laswell.

“You’ll be the first to know if anything else comes up. Call it a fixation, but I'm going to do more digging, for now the dog will have to stay with on base.” Laswell said.

"Ghost is already out getting some extra supplies." Price said, guessing this would happen.

"I'll let you know what I find. Watcher out." Laswell said before signing off. Price sat back in his seat sighing. The Dog would stay until they figured out where it came from or a shelter could take it.

Price stood up and headed outside. As soon as he opened the door though, you slipped in, covered in shampoo and water. Price got out of the just in time to keep Johnny and Kyle from running into him. You’re around the corner of the hall in mere seconds with the two sergeants hot on your tail. Price just stood there and shaking his head in disbelief. Simon was standing next to him in a couple of minutes seeing the captain’s wet leg from you rubbing against him, and the remaining trail of puddles. He looked at his captain.

“What do we do with the dog?” He asked. Price looked back at his lieutenant and down the hall again, with neither you nor the sergeants in sight.

Each of the 141 came up with their own ideas. Or sometimes you were the one who came up with the idea.

Kyle would use his off time to give you attention. Didn't take long for it to become a bit of a routine and one you picked up on, finding him somewhere on base just finishing up, poking your head in and wagging your tail. It became a highlight of his day, and yours, as you got plenty of scratches and even belly rubs. Kyle enjoyed it for the chance to be active in a more positive sense. Work could be tiring for him, and he wouldn’t always go outside and throw something for you, but he welcomed snuggles on his bunk. Sometimes you would help with his work, actually listening to his instructions when you're ordered to drop it.

At one point Kyle decided to teach you some basic commands and even had a K9 unit and trainer join to help you learn as well. Yeah uh... you kept getting him tangled in the leash, and more than once you fell off whatever makeshift ramps and platforms they made. You did learn how to sit, stay, and go with leash tugs and spoken word. The K9 trainer would look after you whenever Kyle and the rest of the 141 had to leave to go on missions. You would often spend your days waiting on Kyle's bed for him to return. Anytime you overheard a chopper or jeep you would spring off the bed, barking excitedly until you got outside, standing and waiting to see if they had returned safely.

For the most part, you followed Johnny around while he was working out or doing other stuff on base. He found you a bit of a nuisance. If he didn't give you attention even when you were being so well-behaved, you would nip at his hand or leg. This led to him giving you attention, but it was usually just to chase you off. At one point though while he was working out he started doing sit-ups. You went over to him and sat at his feet before putting your paws on his knees. Your happy face stopped him before he got his first sit making him chuckle. After you helped him with sit-ups you made his push-ups more of a challenge, laying on his back. Johnny was able to distract you with a ball, but you two become more comfortable with each other. Eventually, he’s taking you with him to go running, using a leash to keep you from running too far ahead. You’re still a kind-hearted menace though, taking any food he leaves in reach of your mouth.

Simon found you very helpful. You’re a dog, and he could talk to you when he needed it. On occasion, he finds you sleeping in his bed, sometimes on his chest. You are not unwelcomed. Often you are discovered after he wakes up, sometimes from nightmares. You wake with him, and with you on top of him, you ground him.

“Good dog.” He muttered one night in a cold sweat. You stared at him in the dark and then felt his rough calloused hands massaging your ears. He found you soothing, even when you’re just hiding under the table waiting for something to drop. Simon doesn’t bother sneaking food, he straight up slips it to under the table.

Price didn't know what to make of you for the first week or so. You’re not like most stray dogs that tend to be frightened of humans. You’re curious and you openly show that curiosity. Price is often writing reports and doing paperwork so you’ll try to distract him, by getting a ball or stick. You get a ball and start begging for him to play with you. He has to focus on his work and he expresses this to you multiple times. Then you would see if you could get him to see the toy. He would scold you, and wrestle with you to get off his lap or desk.

Price sighed as one such wrestle led to the ball falling and bouncing away for you to chase. Then he noticed the time. Thinking for a moment he did need to take a break.

“Outside?” He asked you. You looked at him with the ball in your mouth, tilting your head. He asked again. “Outside?”

You wagged your tail as he got up, stretching and feeling his back crack before he took you outside. He was able to track down a large pillow, which was left by his desk for you to relax on so you could nap while you waited for him to finish. After that, if he ever has to step out of his office for drills or anything you’re walking right next to him, toy in mouth. You sit anytime he addresses the soldiers, at attention with the toy still in your mouth. If you couldn't be found on Kyle's bunk when the 141 were away, you could be found waiting on the pillow.

One day Laswell and Nikolai come by. Laswell was there to talk to Price and go over some intel, Nikolai came along as her ride (and to meet you). Kyle had you on a leash and you sat patiently. Laswell was somewhat impressed, seeing as your first story involved you getting into trouble.

“Captain.” Laswell said, shaking the captain’s hand, and then Kyle’s. “Sergeant.”

You gave a soft and polite woof, shifting your two front paws. Laswell couldn’t help but offer a hand for you to sniff. You sniffed it and then offered your own paw to shake which she accepts. None of them had seen you do that before. Nikolai is chuckling.

“Good dog. Knows manners better than most.” Nikolai commented.

“Take it no one has any ideas where the dog came from?” Kyle asked. Laswell shook her head. They all walked bavk inside and you retrived a ball as soon as Kyle got you off the leash. Johnny was close by, along with Simon intent to listen to Laswell’s intel. You took your toy to Laswell and basically sat on her feet staring up with puppy dog eyes. Johnny is snickering while Nikolai is laughing. Laswell looked back down at you while you wait for her to take the toy.

“John could you call them off?” Laswell asked the captain. Then she saw the grin on his face.

“‘fraid there’s only one way for that Laswell.” Johnny exclaimed. Laswell gave him a look that had him avoiding eye contact. You continued wagging your tail waiting for her to accept your gift. Laswell gave in and took the toy. She held it up for you to see before tossing it. You sprung after it quickly and picked it up again, this time bringing it to Nikolai. Nik wasted no time, playing with you, and even doing fake throws. Every time you returned it to him, he gave you plenty of praise and pets. This goes on for a short bit before Laswell can convince the rest of the team to go into a room to start the briefing. You follow the team inside where you're kept occupied by Nikolai.

While Laswell went over the meeting Johnny noticed you out of the corner of your eye and bites his tongue. To his surprise, you sat politely and listened to Laswell as she went over the intel she had brought with her.

Then Laswell brought you up in her intel, making you tilt your head. “Your canine may not be a simple stray.”

Laswell tapped the tablet and the view of the map moved and highlighted a specific location. A factory of some kind. “As suspected they were being used for animal testing. What they were testing was a serum. One that has yet to work without killing the subject.”

“They want to use this on humans?” Simon questioned, thinking this was starting to sound like a plot to a cheesy action movie. If Laswell brought up “super soldiers” he would’ve walked out or called bluff.

“No.” Laswell said. “They’re using it on animals.”

@yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @H0n3y_L3m0n @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444

#john soap mactavish #task force 141 x reader #simon ghost riley #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #cod nikolai #kate laswell #doggo #dog reader #nonhuman #dog bath #how is this a thing #I’m not mad it’s a thing #just shocked #didn’t think this would be request to have a part 2 #call of duty modern warfare

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joeys-babe · 4 months

Text

Joey B Imagines: Light My Fire*

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Summary: Flashback. You and Joe are at LSU and so in love. Joe’s win of the National Title turns into a night you two will remember forever…

Warnings: smut

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Into The Mystic

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January 13, 2020

He did it. Joe fuckin’ did it.

After everything I’d watched Joe go through, from high school football to not starting at Ohio State to transferring, I got to witness Joe become a National Champion.

I'd never felt so proud of my boyfriend before, watching him hoist that trophy in the air as I cried in Robin’s arms.

“He did it!” - you cried

“He couldn't have done it without you sweetie. You're his everything.” - Robin

——

When Joe came to the family area, he first hugged his parents, him and his dad sharing such a sweet moment.

After their embrace ended, Joe turned to me, and in a matter of seconds, I was in his arms as he spun me around.

“I love you so much!” - Joe

“I love you more! You did it, Joey! I'm so proud of you.” - you

My words were mumbled as I was yelling them into his neck, but Joe understood every word.

“You know I couldn't have gotten this far without you? Thank you for everything, baby.” - Joe

“Thank you for letting me be a part of this journey. I'll follow you wherever you go.” - you

I pulled away and looked into his eyes, seeing that they were a little misty.

“I love you more than life, y/n.” - Joe

The embrace with Joe lasted longer than anticipated, like a whole five minutes, and I could sense eyes on us.

When I pulled away from Joe, Robin had a slight eyebrow-raised expression, wondering why Joe hugged me longer than her. She understood a little bit because she knew Joe saw his future in me.

“Hey, you're still spending the night with me, yeah?” - Joe

You'd be able to hear the smirk in his voice without even looking at his face like I was now.

“Yes. Why?” - you grinned

“I'm feeling some celebratory…” - Joe

My eyes went wide when Joe whispered the word sex.

“Joseph! Your parents are right behind us.” - you

Joe laughed at my worriedness and looked around to make sure his parents weren't watching us. The next thing I knew, Joe slipped his hands down to my ass and pressed his lips to mine.

When we broke apart, Joe licked his lips and showed me a devilish grin.

“You might wanna take a power nap when you get to my place, it's gonna be a looong night for you.” - Joe

Soon, Joe was walking away and back toward the locker room entrance, leaving me stunned.

——

I didn’t know how long I'd been asleep or the fact that I'd been asleep at all when Joe walked through his apartment door.

“There's my girl.” - Joe grinned

Joe dropped his bags and made his way over to the couch, quickly crawling on top of me with a smirk on his face.

“My national champion.” - you smirked

I watched Joe’s eyes turn dark as the nickname left my lips.

“Say it again.” - Joe

“My national champion.” - you

“Fuck.” - Joe grunted

He dropped his hips to where they were against mine and slowly started grinding himself into my hips.

“Wait-” - you

Joe immediately stopped.

“What?” - Joe

“Do you… have a cigar?” - you

“I got a whole pack of ‘em, why?” - Joe

“It sounds weird to admit out loud, but you looked so hot smoking it earlier.” - you

The smirk that formed on Joe’s lips was purely cocky.

“You want me to smoke one while we make love, huh baby?” - Joe

“Please, Joey.” - you

Joe nodded and crawled off of me. I watched him walk over to his bag and pull out a box of cigars. He sat them down on the kitchen table and quickly pulled all of his clothes off.

The sight of Joe putting the unlit cigar in his mouth while completely naked might be the hottest thing I've ever seen. With his perfect arms, torso, shoulders, thighs, and hard-awaiting length, my eyes didn't know where to look.

If I could grab my phone and take a picture of this sight, I would, but there were too many risks.

Joe laughed without even looking up at me.

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.” - Joe

Did he read my mind? What the hell?

Doing as Joe said, I picked up my phone off of the end table and snapped a picture.

“You're a work of art.” - you

“Thank you.” - Joe smiled

Joe walked back over to the couch and plopped down next to me, handing me the lighter in the process.

“Light it.” - Joe

“I- how?” - you

My brain was scattered just by the pure sight of Joe. He was like a drug.

Delicately, Joe reached out and grabbed my hand, directing it toward his throbbing cock. My pulse reacted when he spit into my hand and wrapped it around his length.

Next, Joe directed my other hand - the one holding the lighter - to the cigar held loosely between his lips.

“Atta girl.” - Joe

Now the cigar was lit, and Joe looked more perfect than ever.

“You know how to stroke a cock, baby. I don't gotta show you how to do that too, right?” - Joe

“N-no…” - you

“Then get to it.” - Joe

Feeling kinda awkward for some reason, I slowly started moving my hand. Joe seemed to appreciate it, though.

The look of Joe’s head thrown back with the cigar in his mouth had a gush of wetness seep into my panties.

“Oh god.” - Joe groaned

By now, I was feeling more confident and was able to stroke him faster.

“Use your mouth- please.” - Joe

His please came out as a whimper, and I gladly did as he said. Moving my head down to take Joe in my mouth, he was gone in just a matter of minutes.

“That was so good.” - Joe

I was out of breath and already feeling pain in the back of my throat from Joe’s swollen cock hitting the back of it.

“You okay, beautiful?” - Joe

“Mhm.” - you

“You sure? Was I too rough?” - Joe

“No, you were perfect like always. I want you so bad.” - you

Within seconds, Joe was on top of me, his cigar only inches away from my face.

“God, I want inside you.” - Joe

“Please do.” - you

Joe didn't waste any time, and soon I was getting lost in the feel of his thick cock moving inside me.

“You feel so good- so fuckin’ wet.” - Joe

Nothing was better than this, being able to be so vulnerable with someone and yet feel so confident. Joe made me feel so many different feelings.

“You do- too. Joey.” - you moaned

Joe came first, which never happened. He was always making sure that I finished before him because my pleasure was the only thing on his mind. Tonight, though, was Joe’s night, and I was trying my hardest to make him feel like the champion he was.

Basking in the post-sex bliss, Joe lay on top of me, his head on my chest as my hand rubbed over his back.

“I'm so proud of you.” - you

“Thank you for always believing in me. Throughout high school, at Ohio State, and when I transferred. You were always there in the stands and on the sidelines. You've been one of the biggest reasons why I didn't give up. I know nothing I can say will show how appreciative I am, but just know I love you so fuckin’ much. More than the championship win.” - Joe

I ran my fingers through Joe’s hair and repeatedly kissed his forehead, my throat tightening and heart soaring at each word leaving his mouth.

“I've been there since the bleached blonde hair, seen you through two mullets, and I'll be there till you're fully grey or bald.” - you

“I hope I don't go bald, I'll get a toupée.” - Joe

Busting out laughing at his less-than-serious statement, Joe and I’s laughs joined together to make a beautiful soundtrack of the night.

At one point, Joe was almost asleep, but a knock on his apartment had us both wide-eyed in panic.

“Joey!” - Robin

“Your parents are here?!” - you whisper yelled

Joe jumped off of the couch and started putting his clothes back on, I ran into the bedroom when I heard keys jingling on the other side of the door.

“They're probably already sleeping. I forgot I had a key.” - Robin

Thankfully, I was in Joe’s bedroom with the door shut when Robin got the door open.

“Oh, hi son…” - Jimmy

“Hey guys! Didn't know you were coming…” - Joe

“Surprise! Where's y/n?” - Robin

“She's, uh… just got out of the shower.” - Joe

Jimmy laughed, and Joe looked at him with a narrowed eye look. His face saying, what are you laughing at?

“So you two were celebrating?” - Jimmy

“Uh… what do you mean?” - Joe

“Son, your shorts are on inside out and your shirts backward.” - Jimmy

My shoulders dropped in annoyance as I listened to the conversation from the bedroom. So much for not getting caught.

I facepalmed as Joe stuttered out an excuse, but Jimmy and Robin only laughed. If his parents didn't know we had sex before, they sure as hell do now.

Damn it, Joe!

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Authors note: idk what to put

Requests for this fic;

Hope you enjoyed! 💕

#joe burrow #bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joey b #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow smut

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vidavalor · 6 months

Note

I think you're the fifth blogger I've seen mention Shax's thing for Crowley... I still can't see it even though I really want to 'cause I think it's hilarious... send help... 🤣🥲😔

I can try lol. Chocolate cake? *slices*

More fun with Shax and Crowley under the cut. We're also going to look at part of Gabriel & Sandalphon's visit to the bookshop in S1 for some bonus fun since it fit in here as it's a parallel scene.

TW: Brief mention of Sandalphon and his homophobia.

For the most part, Shax isn't really in love with Crowley... she's just got a Mr. Brown-level pash on the Crowley that Crowley projects. While Aziraphale hides that he's an angel from the human world so Mr. Brown only believes him to be human, Crowley hides the extent to which he's human and living like one from the demons in Hell. As a result, the demon pursuing him has got exactly one thing correct about Crowley-- that he's hot lol-- but Shax's opinions as to why only partially overlap with ours and Aziraphale's because Shax believes Crowley's big reputation. She doesn't know what we know about him or see him the way we do. Like Mr. Brown with Aziraphale, she exists in part to highlight how insular Crowley & Aziraphale's world of their life together is and how much they have to playact in their respective worlds to keep that secret life they have with one another private and intact.

Shax is a demon who loves being a demon. That's what makes her crazy to us. Most of the other demons we've met are just miserable, even if they're playing along, but Shax is a real go-getter. She's ambitious and she lives to serve their master Satan. She wants to be good at being a demon and she's in love with *Crowley* lol. To us, this seems bananas because ain't no demon ever hated being a demon more than Anthony Jemimah Crowley... but it's proof positive of how decent a job Crowley has been doing at projecting an air of general demonicness for the last six thousand years.

Crowley has been a prince of Hell forever. He's gotten the top jobs-- the stuff of Shax's dreams, really-- and was a particular favorite of Satan, whom Shax worships. He was basically Hell's resident rock star, breezing in every few months to give a demonic presentation and shoot the shit in Lord Beezlebub's office for a half-hour before taking off for Earth again. If you were Shax, spending literally *thousands of years* in that overstuffed, dark, actual hell hole, Crowley showing up must have been like a visit from sexy Santa Claus. Shax is one of those Effort-making demons and most of the demons in Hell are more terrifying than attractive, ok?... even if you find terrifying attractive, like Shax sorta does or at least thinks she ought to.

Who's going to light your fire down there? Hastur? He'd *literally* light you on fire....

We've seen Shax have to deal with misogyny in the workplace (ugh Demon Josh) and you know she never got any of that shit from Crowley. She probably mostly got a "Shaaaaax! How's it hangin'?" from Disco Tony, who was thrilled to have remembered her name this time. Shax was playing it evil demon lady cool on the surface but girl just wants to be first string for the finest demon in Hell and she was swooning internally every time Crowley swooped in to grace Hell with his presence for a hot minute.

There has been suggestion in the series that several demons that we know of from Bible lore are, in Good Omens, all actually Crowley, which furthers this idea of Crowley and his big reputation a bit. The show has actually already done this with a Biblical figure, in that Bildad the Shuite is an actual Biblical character that the show just made be actually the demon Crowley under a different name, so it would make sense that the reason why we haven't seen other famous demons from The Bible in the series are because they're actually Crowley.

One is canon, basically, which is Astaroth/Astoreth, since Crowley was Nanny Astoreth in S1 and I doubt he stole the name from another demon who exists in the GO universe. When Crowley tells Aziraphale he changed his name when they are watching Jesus' crucifixion, Aziraphale first posits two other demons' names and neither of them exist in GO universe to date but both are, lore-wise, powerful: Mephistopheles and Asmodeus. A lot of other great meta has been written about these choices-- in particular, how well Mephistopheles fits Crowley to a tee, which I really, really agree with. You could assume then that the reasons why more audience-known demons like Astoreth and Asmodeus have never shown up in GO-- and we've met the highest-ranking demons already-- is because they actually *have* and they're all just really Crowley.

In demon lore, Astaroth is part of the "evil trinity" with Beezlebub and Lucifer and is a high-ranking demon in Hell... as well as is basically a genderbent serpent goddess with Crowley traits... so safe to say that's one of Crowley's aliases. Crowley has also had his name of "Crowley" for thousands of years by S1 but when he's rolling up in The Bentley in 1.01, Ligur and Hastur clarify what Crowley's "calling himself up here these days", indicating that he might have gone by more names than we might have realized.

Asmodeus, as we all probably know by now, is the demon of lust. A French novel from the 18th century also popularized the idea of Asmodeus as a sort of Cupid, which also goes along with Crowley, who loves love and got genuine joy out of trying to set up Maggie and Nina. So... from Shax's perspective, why *wouldn't* you want Crowley? He's the fine as fuck, Serpent of Eden, legendary prince of fucking lust here lol.

Shax showed up to reclaim his apartment for Hell and you know she expected a scene the likes of which have not been seen on Earth since a post-concert hotel suite occupied by Led Zeppelin lol. She was expecting (fantasizing lol) about having to wade through a rock music blasting, orgiastic drug den to find Asmodeus in his sex dungeon of a bedroom, somewhere in the black silk sheets beneath three playthings.

You know she actually found Crowley, alone, having just finished vacuuming the most fastidiously clean flat this side of Heaven, fully dressed and watching Barefoot Contessa on his massive plasma screen while the only drugs being mixed were special-blend fertilizer for his houseplants. Ina was making Jeffrey red-wine braised short ribs and Crowley didn't say so to Shax, of course, but he's always on the lookout for something his angel might like for dinner. Hang on a second, Shax, gotta save this recipe to my favorites...

At least the black silk sheets were accurate? lol

What probably confuses Shax a little is that she's been meeting up with Crowley and she still wants him and badly, even as it's becoming increasingly clear that he's a bit more complicated than she thought he was. Technically, she should consider him a traitor because of how he betrayed their Master but he's hot, ok, and maybe it's a little sexy to be so bad that you'd defy Satan? (Aziraphale agrees lol.)

Shax has Mr. Brown-level fantasies about where this could go. Crowley was a favorite of Satan's and she can bring him back into the fold. She can heal him. Yeah, this lady demon has gone and got herself one of those 'I can fix him' disaster scenarios. She hates this for her too but she can't help it. He's so sexy. She's been in Hell for a long time. She's sleeping in the bed and showering in the tropical rainforest paradise dream shower of Asmodeus himself, ok?

She's undoubtedly tried to get him to stay. She's so offered for him to live with her in secret and Crowley nearly choked on the air he doesn't need to breathe trying not to laugh at the irony of that one. It's not Shax's fault that he's just not that into her. She's a bad bitch and everything. That's just not his thing. He's just the lonely GI who basically fell asleep during a performance of The Ladies of Camelot. He has always given off the impression that he's into everything there is to sell the whole 'demon of lust' thing but he's really not. Shax doesn't know that, though, because to know that is to know Crowley well and Shax does not.

Does Crowley know that Shax is into him? Yeah, he does.

Shax's thing for him is basically the same thing as when Crowley tries to make a phone call after having taken out the mobile phone network for miles. It's the oh, shit, right, that thing I did that's now fucking up my day in the present... He didn't lead her on specifically as much as he just gave off the vibe in general that he's this debauched, wild, so very wicked demon and, well... if your name is Aziraphale, that's not terribly inaccurate lol... but if it's not, then it's actually not true at all...

...and this is why Shax cannot for the fucking life of her figure out what the deal is with Crowley and this angel.

Yes, Shax is trying to goad Aziraphale into confirming that he has Gabriel in this scene but this scene also comes off as Shax so incredibly done with how jealous she is over this, in her eyes, ridiculous being, and she's bitchy as all fuck about it. There were other ways to crack at Aziraphale than over his relationship with Crowley and she goes at that hard. She calls The Bentley an old piece of junk when she's really clearly calling Aziraphale that and saying that she doesn't know why Crowley hasn't gotten "an upgrade" since, implying that she considers herself just the upgrade Crowley needs. She brings up 1941 via the rumors that she heard "80, 90 years ago" that Crowley and Aziraphale were "an item", which we know are at least partially derived from what happened with Furfur, who his Shax's closest friend and totally has tried to tell her that this thing she has for Crowley is hopeless because he's doing that angel, Shax. (Poor, pining Furfur lol.)

Shax knows somewhere that Furfur is probably correct but she's decided to pretend that it's Furfur's thing for her that could have caused him to misconstrue at least part of it, right, because the demon of lust only having eyes for one being, let alone that being being this angel, is absurd to her (even if she thinks she can tame him lol.)

Aziraphale is an angel, for one thing. The bastards who did this to The Fallen and who cast their Master to Hell. Their sworn, hereditary enemy. It was one thing when maybe the angel was a dalliance. Asmodeus, lonely and bored on Earth, tired of all the sex with the mortals, and so very bad that he could corrupt an angel. That's a little hot, actually, if you're Shax, but it's the fact that that... does not appear to be what this relationship is... that unsettles her.

During S2, Shax learns that Crowley has a permanent invite into and keys to the bookshop and that Aziraphale can drive Crowley's car to an extent that Shax even has to trick him to allow her to enter it. The angel really seems like he might be Crowley's partner, which would mean that this wasn't Crowley fucking an angel on a whim in 1941 but that Hell's wild prince of lust has actually secretly been in a romantic relationship with Aziraphale for at least, to Shax's knowledge, almost a century.

The purported baddest demon that ever demoned, shy of the literal devil, is apparently mad for this fusty angel and Shax just cannot get it, ok?

Crowley is a a broody, black-clad rock star and Aziraphale is this twee little bookselling angel to her. Shax thinks maybe this was all part of Crowley's breakdown or something and she's Mr. Brown so she hasn't given up hope here, not for most of S2, but she's mostly been trying to figure out how to get Crowley's attention and that's the funniest part of her whole pash, imo.

Shax has no idea what Crowley is into. She can't figure this out to save her life.

She has no idea that it's over before it started because she is just not what primes the engine of Crowley's star factory over here. It's not personal. He just doesn't have a shred of sexual interest in her. Gabriel is getting more action from Crowley this season and he tried to murder him lol. Crowley's spent millennia cultivating a persona of a sex god and now he's got to live with it and he's just praying he never finds out anything she's fantasizing about him because he shudders at the thought of whatever she envisions them getting up to.

Look at what Shax is wearing when she comes to Earth to meet with Crowley, for one of the more hilarious things...

In Hell, Shax wears modern clothes. When she comes to Earth to meet Crowley in the year 2023, she wears a vintage-inspired outfit that is spanning the mid-1930s through WW2 in style (the era she knows he was involved with Aziraphale, who is her main point of reference for what attracts Asmodeus over here lol)... and the dress has the biggest damn bow ever seen. You could see that bow from space. It's like she's trying desperately to figure out what turns Crowley on and so far she's come up with well, he drives an old car and he's rolled that angel so he likes... old things... vintage clothes, like the angel's. She's trying to out-bow-tie Aziraphale.

Now that Shax can spend time with Crowley alone and the possibility of seducing him is ever-present (lolololol), she's spending time trying to figure out what turns on the prince of lust. She's trying to get Crowley's demonically lustful attention and she's reduced to bow ties, okay, take pity on her... she's just like I don't know what his deal with these are, exactly, as it seems kind of specific... but he can unwrap me anytime if that's his thing...

Then, there's that she's sitting too close to him on the park bench and raking her eyes over him while he's sprawling on it. He's not sprawling in a way meant to be enticing. He's actually mid-existential crisis here but that's fine by Shax. She likes 'em a little dark.

My favorite, though, is a scene that actually parallels S1 in a hilarious way and that's from the hot water boiler scene in the other meta that prompted the ask here but isn't a bit that I mentioned in that one.

As Crowley goes back into the bookshop (and he'd never been happier to be on the other side of that threshold in his life lol), Shax is then as physically close to him as she's ever been. If you notice, she actually inhales twice. The first is a regular breath-- which demons don't technically need to take but yeah lol-- and her expression is all oh Satan, he smells amazing and then she straight up sniffs the air as he opens the door. Girl is huffing her fill over here for those shower fantasies for months to come lol. Crowley knows it as his eyebrows are in his hair as he's turning back around like he's all did she seriously just *sniff* me? ugh...

Shax knows Crowley saw her (honestly, probably also *heard* her... Shax, love, a little subtlety wouldn't kill you...) so she covers it up by pretending like she smelled Gabriel in the bookshop. You smelled the archangel in there, huh, Shax? When you can't get through the door? When Gabriel is the same species as Aziraphale, whose bookshop this is, so this can't be some kind of angel-scent you're claiming you noticed here? lol This then parallels and adds to this Sandalphon scene in S1:

I know there's some debate about if there's such thing as an angelic or a demonic smell but I've actually always taken it to be that there isn't. It would seem to me that it would be hard for them to blend in on Earth if there was and if the demonic one was something off-putting to humans, at least. I think most of us, though, do believe that the "evil" Sandalphon is smelling in the backroom is Crowley but considering that the comment comes from Sandalphon, who is introduced to us with reference to his smiting of people in Sodom and Gomorrah, it honestly just comes off that Sandalphon is a raging homophobe and I've actually always taken that as the reason why Gabriel is here in this scene in the first place.

Absolutely nothing happens in this scene. It's a routine checkup. What is the Supreme Archangel of Heaven doing there? Why is he blowing so much smoke up Sandalphon's ass the whole time? It's kind of like he saw that Michael or someone had assigned Sandalphon to do a checkup of sorts on Aziraphale-- or Sandalphon had assigned himself-- and Gabriel pretended that he wanted to see in person how "the great Sandalphon" worked so that he could tag along and make sure that Sandalphon didn't bother Aziraphale. We also learn that Aziraphale hasn't seen Sandalphon in a long time and I'd bet that Gabriel is responsible for that. Gabriel's 'whatever, idgaf' response to Aziraphale's Jeffrey Archer books comment is so... Gabriel hadn't the first clue who Jeffrey Archer is or why his books would be evil lol. He could have easily further encouraged Sandalphon's pursuit of the "evil" scent. He didn't because he could care less what Aziraphale does in the backroom of his bookshop. If anything, he's jealous of him for having found a way to have some freedom and privacy. Gabriel is queer-- he is like Aziraphale. He's just closeted in S1. He's looking out for Aziraphale here by using his power to shut down Sandalphon and then "you can't have a war without war omg wow you are a poet!" him out of there as fast as is possible. If there truly was an 'evil'/'demonic' smell, Gabriel should have been able to smell it, too, and he doesn't. If he did, he wouldn't have been able to subtly shut down Sandalphon the way he did.

So, Sandalphon isn't smelling a demon. He's smelling another man. The "evil" is that Sandalphon can smell remnants of another cologne that isn't Aziraphale's in the backroom of Aziraphale's bookshop and Sandalphon is a homophobe, so he's implying that Aziraphale having sex and with a man is 'evil', even if there's no direct evidence here of that, just the implication of it.

This then would mean that Shax can't actually smell Gabriel in the bookshop in S2. Like Sandalphon, she's pretending to have a supernatural sense of scent but she's really just smelling Crowley. While Sandalphon was repulsed by the idea of Aziraphale's bookshop backroom having the scent of a man, Shax is just inhaling that same being's scent because omfg. so. good....

...something she can't stand that she has in common with that bastard angel, Aziraphale, who is actually allowed to breathe Crowley in anytime he wants... it's just ridiculous to her. Why the fuck does that beige bookseller get to have the sex god of Shax's dreams in his bed and she doesn't? What could Crowley possibly find attractive about him? That she doesn't know and can't really figure it out shows how little she really knows Crowley and also how little imagination she really has.

#ineffable husbands #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens 2 #good omens meta #aziracrow #good omens shax #shax good omens #shax #archangel fucking gabriel #sandalphon #mr brown #of brown's world of carpets

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hothothotch · 10 months

Note

Heeey ! I have a Hotch request 😄

Context: she’s one of his first case, some young girl who hacked the Pentagone to make a point to a teacher that you don’t have to be good in class to be a genius in something. They try to arrest her but she didn’t did anything just enter their server and disconnect. But all the way into interrogation she flirts with him. They let her go and he sees her a couple years later?

I don’t know how to end this, but yeah just a thing I got in my head for a while 🥹

hey! i loved writing this one and, again, i want a part two of it, so maybe you should expect one haha. i hope you like it, anon <3

Requests are open!

1991

"I'll plead the fifth in this one..." you smirked up at Agent Hotchner, batting your eyes seductively — or as seductively as you believed you could be — as you observed him through your eyelashes, "And I'm very good at pleading, just so you know".

Aaron didn't react visibly, even though the urge to roll his eyes was definitely there. After a few minutes of interrogation (probably ten, but he wasn't sure, since you were a delight to hear — ironically speaking), Aaron had lost count of how many flirtatious comments you had thrown at him, the situation way more annoying considering that his boss, SSA Gideon, was sitting by his side, observing everything with as neutral as an expression he could have, clearly as unamused as Aaron.

"Oh, come on!" you groaned, clearly unpleased with Aaron's lack of response to your flirt, "You can laugh, right? There's nowhere on your contract saying 'FBI Agents have to be stiff and serious, even the hot ones'!".

"I don't usually laugh when interrogating someone" Aaron replied, opening up the file he had in front of him to read your name out loud, "Much less when they invade the Pentagon's system".

You tried to bit back the proud smile that showed up on your face at the acknowledgment of what you've done — you highly doubted one of those Agents would clap their hands at your achievement, and still you'd rather face them than your parents, that were probably fuming on their way to the Bureau.

If SSA Hotchner and Gideon's faces were the last things you'd see for the rest of your life (that probably wouldn't be as long as you once thought it would), you might as well fall in style.

"That was impressive, wasn't it?" you asked, your voice clearly smug as you leaned against your chair, "I'm really good at that!".

"Not that much" SSA Gideon intervened, "I can name a few hackers that can do the same".

You raised one brow in defiance, trying to mask the way his words had evidently hurt your ego, "I didn't say I'm unique, I said I'm impressive. There's a difference" you pointed in a matter-of-factly way, before turning back at Agent Hotchner, "From now on, I'm only answering your questions, pretty boy".

"It's Agent Hotchner".

You chuckled, "Okay" you nodded curtly, "Pretty Agent Hotchner boy".

That time you saw the way he reacted, his body language denouncing you was starting to frustrate him. If you didn't know it was overstepping — more than you've already overstepped — you probably would make a joke about how you could help him with his frustration, but you weren't really into going to jail over harassment.

Trying to exhaust his patience was one thing. Crossing the line between amusement and crime was something you didn't want to do.

Oh, yeah. You had hacked into the Pentagon.

"Okay, look..." you started, straightening your pose on your chair, grimacing when the metal of the cuffs (an unnecessary accessory, if you will) skimmed on your skin, a clear indicative that you'd soon have a new bruise at that spot, "I've hacked into the Pentagon, true" she directed a pointed look at Gideon, rolling her eyes, "Yes, I'm aware there are a lot of other hackers that can pull that out, but I had a point to make!".

"Which was?" Aaron questioned, his eyes still trained on you. With a quick look to his hand, you noticed he was wearing a wedding band — golden, brilliant; he was probably freshly married. You questioned if he looked at his wife in that intimidating way, or if it was reserved to people like you, or that he judged to be like you.

You took a deep breath, leaning against your chair, "I'm graduating on MIT" you started explaining, even if you knew they could find that information on your file, and that they probably already knew that, considering you'd been smart enough to hack into the Pentagon from your college's computer, but not enough to hide your tracks, "And I was unlucky enough not to get good grades at this specific subject, and my teacher made a point to humiliate me in front of everyone. So I made a point in showing her that while she's theoretically smart, I'm technically smart".

The single raise of Agent Hotchner's brow was enough to reveal what he was thinking about you after your explanation — that you were a spoiled child, that you couldn't have things any other way except for yours, that he could have you arrested solely by how bad your reasoning had been.

"Yeah, pretty Agent Hotchner boy..." you crossed your arms in front of your body, "Not everyone is born with everything on a silver plate, y'know? My attention is not as good as it was supposed to be".

Aaron switched a quick glance with Gideon, his demeanor betraying nothing as they kept their eyes locked for a few minutes, expectation suddenly building on your body along with the urge to pick at your nails, an anxious behavior you had.

"Let her go" Agent Gideon finally said, standing up from his chair, turning his back on you both to walk out of the interrogation room.

"What?" you squealed in confusion, placing the palms of your hands on top of the metallic desk you had between Agent Hotchner and you, "That's all?".

Aaron hummed in agreement, standing up to grab the cuff keys' in his pockets, his hands brushing with yours for a second, and you could swear there was a sudden electricity on that touch, causing you to push your hand away.

He looked up at you with one brow raised again, his voice a bit more humored now, "What? You want to be arrested?".

"You arrested me, pretty Agent Hotchner boy" you reminded, shaking your cuffed hands, "And while I think being cuffed is sexy, I can't wait to remove those. They're hurting my pulse".

"You should've told us, we'd lose it a bit" he shrugged, opening the lock expertly, before sitting on the desk, "You only logged into the system and turned it off. We can't arrest you for turning the computers off, so you're free to go".

You faced him for a while more, trying to find something to say, maybe a snarky remark — a joke? But nothing came to mind. So you only nodded, standing up from the chair with a smile.

"So off I go" you told him, massaging your pulses, "Guess we won't see each other again, pretty Agent Hotchner boy".

Aaron shook his head, crossing his arms, "I hope not".

"Ouch" you put your hand over your chest dramatically, "You wound me, honey. Hope you don't miss me too much".

Aaron finally allowed himself to roll his eyes, standing up from the desk to walk toward the door, "It won't be a problem".

...

2011

You were honestly — and positively — surprised when the message arrived in your inbox, the (a rather last minute) white invitation warming your heart in a way you didn't think it would.

JJ and Will were getting married.

It was a surprise not because you thought you wouldn't be invited, but because you didn't think it would happen at all; the last time you and JJ talked (only a year prior to that date), the woman had been pretty straightforward about not being ready to get married, even if Will clearly was. You were surprised to know that he supported her and it wasn't an issue, even though JJ sometimes complained about how they ended up fighting over the topic.

You were happy they finally got to an agreement. And even happier that their agreement gave her an excuse to leave her house, even for only a few hours.

"You look beautiful!" you stated once you spotted JJ on the dancefloor, bringing her for a hug when she finally recognized you.

"I can't believe you're here!" JJ held you against her body happily, and you could feel her smile on your shoulder as she rocked you from side to side, "I thought you were in Paris!".

You nodded when she pulled back, allowing you to move and embrace Will, that had a similar smile on his face, "I was. But the Pentagon called me back and I was forced to come back. Which is a loss, because I was starting to get used with the accent. And the paycheck".

Will shook his head, laughing at your last comment, "I'm sure Interpol will be missing a great Agent".

"That they will" you nodded eagerly, playfully throwing your hair over your shoulder, "I was their jewel, and now they have nothing. But I'm happy to be back home. Will be even happier when I find a good house for me, since I've sold my old house".

"Oh, that's your lucky day!" JJ commented, immediately taking your hand in hers, already guiding you through the dancefloor to a table where a few people were gathered, laughing at something one of them had said, "My friends' neighbor just passed away, and their old apartment is vacant. Maybe you can rent it".

You smiled, ready to give JJ an answer when you looked at the table again, your eyes widening at the sight of one man in the middle of the group. You froze in your place when you recognized him, your jaw slightly dropped when your eyes met, recognition clearly passing through his eyes as well.

You heard JJ saying your name, and you were fairly aware that she was introducing you to the group, though the only name you managed to hear was, "This is Aaron Hotchner, my boss, and friend".

Boss. It was curious — last time you've seen Agent Hotchner (or pretty Agent Hotchner boy, as you once called him), he was an Agent working under Jason Gideon's supervision.

Ten years had gone by, though. A lot had changed. You, to begin with.

"Oh, huh... hi!" you waved at the group, trying to pretend you had gathered any of their names, "JJ was telling me that one of you had a neighbor who had passed and may have an apartment free for me?".

Aaron — who seemed to be on a trance just as you'd been in the past few seconds — cleared his throat at your question, trying to brush away the embarrassment of how you kept looking at each other. If someone in his group noticed, though, none of them made a comment about it.

"That would be me" he stated, and you held the urge to mutter an 'of course that is', "Maybe we can talk—".

"On the dancefloor" the old man beside him suggested, nudging Aaron slightly with a mischievous smirk on his lips as he took a sip of his drink (whiskey, you deduced), "Do you like to dance?".

"Very much" you nodded, directing your response at the man who asked the question, but your eyes were focused on Aaron, "That's one of my technical skills".

If there was any doubt to Aaron that you remembered him, this doubt fade away at that exact moment — and you noticed it by the way his body language immediately changed, going from an almost nervous one to a more relaxed one.

"I guess you can show me, then" Aaron offered his hand to you, a smile appearing on his face when you immediately accepted it, guiding you back to the dancefloor, "Let's just try and not be arrested tonight, okay?".

You snorted, patting on his shoulder when the song turned into a slower one, and your eyes met one more time before you replied, "I won't make any promises".

Thank you for your request ✨

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #hotch #hotch x reader #hotch x you #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner oneshot

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world-of-aus · 3 months

Text

Warnings: None.

Author's Note: Chapter one of A Second Chance At Life, it's been a hot minute since I've worked on a series so hopefully I haven't lost it! Thank you all for reading and I truly hope you enjoy this piece. Happy Readings!

Bucky’s on the iron gate, Steve, Sam, and Natasha all by his side as they watch you in the gated arena with Grant. His boy has the brightest smile Bucky thinks he’s ever seen grace his son’s lips; it almost mirrors the one he gets when he sees Natasha waiting for him on the porch with his uncle Steve.

Grant had been excited this morning to show his uncles and aunt his rope work and had been even more thrilled to show his skills when he discovered there was a guest joining them. A guest Bucky hadn’t been aware was coming till Steve dumped the news on him ten minutes before your arrival with the redhead Steve called his wife. He had been livid with his best pal when he discovered the reason for you joining them this morning.

‘I don’t need your help with this Steve I told you last night I was going to get on it, and I will get on it.’

‘Buck you have a lot on your plate, Natasha just wanted to help, let us help you with this.’

Bucky had struggled to bite back the ‘but he’s my son’ that laid on his tongue, his face becoming stoic, cold as he glared down his friend. He hadn’t budged a bit, not even when Natasha brought you through the house to introduce you to the brooding brunette, the scowl on his features unmoving despite the warm smile on yours. His son Grant, god bless his soul had made up for his father's bad mood, bounding up to you with a smile as warm as yours and an all too cheerful greeting.

He should have dropped his mood then, watching the way you got down to grants level to take his hand in yours exchanging a greeting that rivaled the one he had with his Aunt Tasha. You had taken a few minutes to get to know the boy before you, displaying just as much enthusiasm as his son did while he told you all about the arena they had out back.

They had all been surprised when Grant all but pulled you along through the house, not even waiting for his dad or his uncles as he bolted with you out the back door to the gated arena.

“She’s good with our boy Barnes, look at him he’s absolutely smitten.” Sam chuckled watching you help Grant get the rope over his head like Bucky had shown him just yesterday. Bucky grunted under his breath but continued to watch, hearing your quiet words of encouragement to the boy. The five of you watched the boy twirl the rope a few more times before he attempted the throw, Grants shoulders falling when the rope didn’t quite reach where he had hoped.

The broad-shouldered brunette is all but ready to jump over the fence and get to his boy, but Steve’s hands clap his shoulder keeping him in place. He turns to glare at his best friend but Steve is redirecting his attention back to the arena. You’ve got both of Grant's hands in yours dipping your head even lower to meet his downtrodden gaze, he can’t quite make out what you’re saying but you’re surprising all of them when you get the rope in your hands. Grant seems to chirp up and this time Bucky can hear you holding his so to a promise not to laugh.

The way you get the rope over your head says you’ve done this before, but he can see the way you hold back. Grants cheering you on like you did him, and when he shouts for you to throw, well Bucky’s never seen a more half-ass throw than the one you produced. He watches with amusement in his eyes as his son freezes mid jump small hands smacking over his mouth as he stifles his giggles. You put on quite the act for his boy Bucky will give you that Grant absolutely taken with you as he comforts you like you did to him.

“Looks like I’ve got some more work to do to get on your level bud.”

“My daddy can teach you! My daddy’s great at helping me, he’s got me to where I am now right dad?”

All eyes having seemingly fallen on him, “come on dad come show y/n! Please!” Bucky really wishes he could’ve learned how to say no to his sons requests at times but he knows that’s not the case when he finds himself begrudgingly climbing the fence stomping his feet over to where the two of you stand.

Grant can hardly contain his excitement, “you’ll get it this time y/n, dads the best there is!”

Bucky pulls his sour mood out of his ass for his son, though you’ve done nothing wrong for him to be so stoic with you his walls are just much to high for anyone to get in. You take it in stride allowing him to guide you, engaging with Grant when he jumps in to add something his father has taught him.

Bucky knows this isn’t your first time holding a rope he can feel it, can see it in your movements. Though you continue to act like you haven’t, asking questions here and there not only to him but his son as well. When’s he’s got you swinging the rope he points out to the exact same spot he did to Grant yesterday, the same one he tried to aim for today.

It's quiet except for the whoosh of the rope above your head, Bucky sees the moment you start to falter the rope, but when his sons hopeful voice flits up into the air he feels you lock it in, your aim precise as the rope goes flying. When it hits the marker Bucky knows this isn’t your first time, but he doesn’t mention it, instead watches Grant run at your legs his cheers filling your ears, and though you’ve just met his son you get your arms around him the best that you can.

“Did it for both of us bud, say you wanna give it another try now that your dad’s here?”

“You’ll watch me?” Grant asks, and Bucky watches you drop to his level, “Of course, I'll be right here.” You inch over to let Bucky level himself with his son, Natasha, Sam and Steve having entered the arena to join them, Natasha is at your side, Steve and Sam rallying around Grant as they help Bucky with his boy.

The five of you watch the boy swing the rope eyes on the prize as determination sets in. Time slows when Grant releases the rope, all eyes on the twine sailing in the wind, it thuds, picking up dirt around it. Grants aim? Spot on. The small, gated arena explodes in cheers as the five of you get to your feet cheering Grant on.

“Did you see it! Did you see it! I did it! I did it!”

There’s a chorus of agreement all around as you continue to cheer the boy on, his excitement contagious as Bucky hoists him high. “Think that deserves some riding time.” Bucky exclaims. The light in his boy’s eyes is worth it all, “can y/n ride with us?” All eyes fall to her, even Bucky’s, his features soften, his son had warmed up to you instantly, and his son was a great judge of character so maybe he could too. “Would you like to join us?” he finds himself asking.

“Of course, if it’s no trouble to you.”

Bucky nod’s, “you ever ride before y/n?” Sam questions from next to Steve. “I’ve ridden a few times, wouldn’t say I’m as professional as Roger’s but I’m fairly decent.”

“Can I ride with y/n?” Grant questions wiggling in his fathers hold

Bucky meets your gaze for a brief second before your finding his son’s gaze again, “Only if it’s okay with your dad.”

He knows everyone's looking at him now, “you hold tight to those reigns, and no horseplaying Grant.” He says setting his son down.

“Yes sir I promise!” Bucky watches his son grab your hand again all but pulling you out of the arena and towards the barn.

Steve, Sam, and Natasha gather around their friend as they look after the two of you, “so what do you think Barnes,” the redhead questions with a grin, “how’s she doing so far, you think she’s qualified enough to care for our Grant?”

He grunts under his breath, “she’s alright, don’t know about qualified just yet, it's only been an hour.”

“Good thing we have some time.” she responds with a laugh moving forward to make her way towards the barn.

“She’s a really great person buck, Natasha wouldn’t have brought her along otherwise” Steve adds.

“Yeah man,” Sam agrees, “and she’s great with kids too Cass and Aj love her, always asking Sarah and I about her.”

Bucky hums in thought as the three of them walk into the barn, Natasha on one horse, you and Grant on another, the boy secure in your hold as you maneuver the horse forward.

“Y/n and I are gonna go get a head start with Lil man, try not to be a couple of rotten eggs.” Natasha grins, Grant giggling at his aunts words.

“I’ll make sure to be very careful with him Bucky,” you say meeting his eyes.

And you were, Grant was your focus as you rode along open land of the farm, your arms tucked protectively around the boy careful with him like you had promised. Bucky had never seen his boy so happy, well that was a lie, he had seen that glee before, had seen it with Natasha, Steve, Sam, had seen it every day that he got to spend with his boy.

“You feeling alright Barnes?”

Bucky looks over his shoulder watching Natasha saddle up to him with chestnut, he reaches out to run his fingers along the horses.

“Just thinkin is all.” he replies looking back out to the vast field where you follow after Steve, Grant’s laughter filling the air as you give his uncle chase.

“She’s good with him,” Natasha notes watching the same scene with him, “she is,” he agrees. “But -”

Bucky sighs, “I’m scared I'm doing wrong by him Nat, this is the first year that he won’t be out there on the road with me, what if something happens and I’m not there, what if needs me and I’m not there.”

Natasha reaches out squeezing his shoulder, “Bucky you and I both know you could never do wrong by that sweet boy out there, you’ve given him everything you could give and more. You’re that whole boy’s world, he loves you. I know you’re scared to be away from him for so long, but I know y/n would make sure that it wasn’t like you were away at all.”

He looks over at his friend, “how can you know that?” Natasha’s looking over at you, you’re smiling the brightest she thinks she’s ever seen you smile since you returned home, hearing your laugh ring in the air for the first time in years and knowing its genuine. “Because she’s going to love that boy as if he was her own.”

Bucky’s looking back out to the field, “If she’s willing to start a week before we leave, the job’s hers, if she wants it.”

Natasha is grinning bringing herself and chestnut closer, “you won’t regret this Barnes.”

He hopes he wouldn’t.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au

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