#Wine Excursions

[laqueus]

i'm rewatching tron uprising again for the first time in a while and I'd forgotten just how... graphic??? some of the violence is

holes punched in chests (multiple occasions)! a bisected guard dragging themself across the floor & trailing digital gore! a (failed) public execution where the prisioners are being pulled apart by lightcycles! dyson's caved-in skull! tron's entire fucking torture scene that was genuinely harrowing to watch! let's carve out his eye! let's carve out tron's fucking eye!

[ensenadaexcursionsandtours]

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[savvytravelers]

Porto River Cruises

Set sail on Porto river cruises with Savvy Travelers, discovering the rich culture and stunning views of Porto!

[godallaswriter]

A Taste of Uruguay

Uruguay was not on my list of must-visit destinations. In truth, I had not given more than a passing thought to a scheduled port call in Montevideo. The cruise was a South American adventure that included a visit to the Antarctic Peninsula, and it had been in the planning states for three years, since before COVID. I had had plenty of time to research Chile and Argentina — Santiago and Buenos…

[queenof-curses]

req: omg no bc imagine ur at a family cookout w ur bf (toji) and it’s like his first time meeting ur family, it’s summer time (sundress szn 🌚), and the dress ur wearing is just doing it for him fr and y’all fuck in the bathroom or smthing 😭

Hi Anon! Let's ignore the fact that I finally finished this request MONTHS later 😅Anyways... Here it is!

Meeting the Family

Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Summary: You bring Toji over to meet the family. What happens when his mind can't stop wandering to the fact that you decided to wear the prettiest little sundress that he's ever seen?

Notes: Toji is in his early 40's and reader is meant to be in her mid to late 20's!

Tags: MINORS DNI!!!!! Explicit in all ways, dirty talk, age gap, breeding(?), oral (fem rec.), PinV, unprotected s*x, Daddy K!nk.

Word count: 2.1k (I kind of went crazy with this one)

--

He knew what your family truly thought of him.

He could see it- the judgmental eyes masked by a tight smile. Your mothers kind words that were somehow tight lipped… he knew exactly what they thought of him. 

Toji, a man pushing 40- dating you. You, who was so young and full of life. You had dreams and aspirations; Toji had a divorce. He could tell the age gap was going to be a problem as soon as he walked into this family BBQ. 

You however, were completely blind to it. If you knew what was going on, or could read the uncomfortable vibe at the party, he could not tell. And he loved you all the more for that. Toji had decided that if it did not bother you, that he wouldn’t let it show that it bothered him. 

It was the least he could do. After all, the longer he spent at this family outing, the longer he could stare at the little sundress that you decided to wear today. 

God- you were so fucking hot, he thought. The pink and orange patterns on the dress made you look as beautiful as the sunset. It made his mouth water as he eyed the way your tits were pushed up by the bodice of the dress, the straps thin enough to tease the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra. 

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. 

“What was that babe?” You turned to look at him, currently standing next to you as you both filled your plates with food. 

He coughed to cover, but all it did was earn your suspicious eye. “Nothing babe, food looks good.” was his excuse. 

“Mhmm..” you said before returning to your conversation with a cousin. 

Toji shifted his weight from side to side, pretending to listen to your aunt rant about her latest cruise excursion. He couldn't give less of a shit, and ended up letting his mind wander back to your outfit choice of the night… 

–

About two hours passed, your meals finished long ago and the entire family sat gathered around the bonfire out in the backyard. Dad rock blasted over the speakers, almost loud enough that conversation had to be shouted to one another. Activities were just getting started, and the crowd seemed to be livelier than ever.

“We’re drinkers on this side of the family,” you lean in and tell him. You noticed his hesitation to grab a third beer earlier, knowing deep down that your family would think he was weird if he HADN’T drank. 

His scar stretched across his lips as he smirked down at you. “Oh yeah?” he taunted. “Think I can out drink any of these old geezers?” 

You laugh at this comment, “Babe I hate to break it to you- but YOU are an old geezer.” Your hand finds his chest, patting him over his black shirt. 

Toji scoffs before commenting, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Old? Nah- you wouldn’t let some old geezer bend you over the kitchen table last night while you cried ‘Daddy! Daddy!’ huh?”

“Toji!” You cry out, punching him in the arm. “Anyone could’ve heard you…” 

He chuckles, “Not a chance Sweetheart, look around… everyone is wasted.” 

His comment makes you laugh. It was true- your family wasn’t well off, but they sure knew how to party. 

It was then your mother noticed the two of you laughing, the white wine making her feel confident to approach you. 

“OH HONEY!” she cries, loud enough to wake the neighbors. “Why don’t you give Toji a tour of the house! I’m sure he’ll LOVE seeing your cute little baby pictures…” 

“Mom- please st-”

“I’d love to have a tour!” Toji interrupts, his grin stretching from ear to ear. “I’m sure my girl was just as precious as she is now.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, an action unnoticed by your intoxicated mother. 

“Yeah, yeah- I’ll give him the grand tour…” You take his hand in yours, dragging the much larger man back towards the house as your mother waved you off. 

–

His eyes were glued to your ass as you led him throughout the house. It wasn’t a long tour, but by the time you two made it to the second floor his jaw was practically on the floor. Watching you climb up the stairs in that little sundress had his cock hard and his balls achy. 

At a certain point, Toji accepted defeat at the fact that  he couldn’t wait until the two of you got home. Who knows how long you wanted to stay. Was he really about to risk getting caught by your family? 

One more look at the way your breasts swelled inside the dress determined his answer.

Of fucking course I’m gonna risk it, he thought. 

He waited until the right moment; you were showing him the bedroom you grew up in. Thankfully, he was able to lock the door after you walked in without you noticing. 

“You got a private bathroom in your room? Damn- you sure you aren’t loaded?” He teased you, walking towards the large doorway. 

“It isn’t much Toji,” you tell him, rolling your eyes and following close behind. 

What you didn’t expect is for him to pull you completely into the bathroom, shutting the door and shoving your body against it. He locked your hands behind your back, making you unable to move against him as your face pressed into the cool wood. 

You could feel it there- his hard on rubbing against your behind, his hips slowly hiking up the skirt of your dress inch by inch as he rutted against you. Your chest heaved, the surprising situation turning you on immediately. So what do you do? Well, you decide to taunt the beast…

“What? Couldn’t make it home, Daddy?” You ask as you push your ass against his front, rubbing yourself up and down his clothed shaft. The grin on your face was similar to that of a cat, and it made him want to corrupt you all the more. 

“Don’t even fucking tease me, Sweetheart- I’m harder than a rock and ready to tear that little dress off your tight body.” He groaned into your ear. 

Using his free hand he pushed your hair to the side, exposing your neck and immediately bringing his mouth to your heated skin, leaving a trail of love bites towards your ear. He moaned into you, soaking in the scent of bonfire and arousal as he shifted himself behind you even more. 

You couldn’t move your hands, wanting to touch him just as much as he was touching you. 

“Toji I-“ you start, but he was quick to cut you off.

“Shhh sweetheart, let me take care of you.” 

He kept his grip tight on your hands, forcing you in place as he kneeled behind you. “That’s right princess, keep your ass out just like that.” 

Quick to shove the fabric of your dress up, he hikes the hem above your ass and uses your restrained hands to hold it in place. Not waiting any longer, Toji didn’t even admire your panty choice before tearing it down to your knees and sinking his face into your cunt. 

“Oh- god!” You cry out, pushing the softness of your behind further into his face. You could feel the way his tongue worked your folds, spit mixing with your arousal as he shoved himself into your opening.

He removes himself briefly, but only to tell you how delicious you tasted. “You’re my favorite flavor sweetheart.” Before diving back in.

Toji used the thumb of his freehand, quickly finding your little button and softly tapping it as he devoured you whole. The quick licks and twirling of your clit was quickly going to send you over as your back arched into his touch. 

“Daddy- fuuuuuuuuck, I-I’m gonna cum!” You warn him.

“Do it princess- do it on my fucking face.” He goads you, wanting to taste your sweet release. 

It wasn’t long before his tongue prodded your cunt just right as you cum hard on face, whimpering as he kitten licks the mess you’ve made on yourself. Stars danced across your vision as your orgasm rips through you, blanketing you in bliss as he massages the fat of your ass. 

“Fuuuuuck!” You cry out, attempting to move away from his touch, but his iron grip keeps you in place.

“Ah- that’s my girl, so fucking beautiful…” 

You take in his words as you slump further into the back of the door, your mind spinning as you try to wrap around the fact that your family was just outside the house… 

“Mmm Toji…. Don’t you think we should be more careful- oh!!” 

Your words cut off quickly as you feel the blunt tip of his cock rub your wet folds. In your haze, you hadn’t heard him unbuckle his pants, but as your neck craned to peak back at him- you look back at the monster you created. 

Toji was beyond disheveled… his face was heated and his eyes were feral as his gaze bore into your own. He didn’t even take his pants off all the way, but just pulled out his member that he currently fisted behind you. 

His cock was hard, the tip leaking precum as he ran the head up and down your puffy folds. You knew at that point there was no convincing the man otherwise- he was going to fuck you with reckless abandon.

One whimper slipping from your lips is all it took, as the older man buried himself deep into your cunt in one swift motion. His heavy balls slapped your swollen clit as he set a hard and fast pace. 

You cried out at the intrusion, and Toji was quick to remove his hands from your back and bring one to your mouth. Your muffled cries quickly filled his palm as you screamed at the sheer girth of his length. His other rested on the swell of your hip, squeezing tight and no doubt leaving bruises in the shape of his fingertips. 

“Fuck princesss- you’re so goddamn pretty in that little fucking dress, it makes me want to fuck you up, put a little baby inside you. Everyone will know- you’re fucking mine.” 

His words were as unhinged as the thrusts of his hips. He cock filled you deliciously, the thickness of him stretching you wide as he slammed into you repeatedly. 

Toji rocked against your body, forcing you to bring your hands up to brace yourself for his movements. 

“Fuck- Daddy, you feel so fucking amazing…” you tell him, only making his groan deep into your ear. 

He was erratic, fucking you as if his life depended on it. Beads of sweat dripped from his temple as he focused on the only thing he could think of: filling you up. 

“Want me to cum in ya, baby? I’ll fill you up real nice- fuck a baby into your sweet cunt.” 

He was filthy; but you’ll damned if that didn’t turn you on more. He grinned as he felt the way your cunt clenched tight at his words. 

“Oh? You like that baby? Then I’ll fuck you up real nice…” He said between thrusts.

“Ohhh, please- yes!” You cried, practically begging him to finish inside. 

The angle of his hips hit just right, your second orgasm hitting you like a freight train as you squeeze the girth of his cock tight. 

“Fuuuuuck- that’s it, such a good girl- milk my cock Princess.” 

You rock your hips against him more, and with one final thrust, Toji buries himself balls deep inside of you. You can practically feel him in your womb as he empties his load into you- the heat of his filling you up deep within, it makes you cry tears of  bliss as he stills inside of you. 

“Shhhh, it’s okay baby- I got you.” He says as he pulls out. “Daddy’s got you…”

Toji was quick to catch your tired body before you collapsed. He brought the two of you to the bathroom floor, shifting you so that he was sitting against the door with your body cradled within his. 

Both of you were sweaty, covered in slick and cum, and currently catching your breaths. You look up at him and lock eyes, both of you sharing a huffed laugh as you process what just happened. 

“I hope they haven't noticed how long we’ve been gone…” he tells you, reaching out to swipe away your smeared mascara with a thumb.

You smile before answering. “Nah… mom was wasted before we even came up here.” 

As if on cue you hear cheers from the yard just beyond the bathroom window. 

“Who wants s’mores?!!!” Your mom screams.

And you both laugh. 

Thank you for reading! All notes/reblogs/comments/likes are appreciated besties!!!

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 20

Emily Prentiss x reader warning: language, alcohol, smut mentioned. i think thats about it? 4.7k

Salt Lake City was boring, tedious even with little to nothing to keep your brain occupied as you sat through meeting after meeting, several interviews, and public statements. It was a walk in the park type of excursion for Heather, supporters already wooed, state governors already in her pocket, it was as if she was just visiting a bunch of old friends and family. You honestly weren’t even sure what she needed you there for, Cynthia was there, her PA had tagged along now that they were back from vacation, you easily could have done your job through the internet from the comfort of your couch and not had to cancel on Emily. Your phone ended up holding your attention for most of the day and most of that wasn’t actually work related. After exhausting all your brain power on what she could possibly want you on there was only one thing left on your mind.

Which is why when you got back from dinner you stepped out of your heels and wandered through the adjoining door to her hotel room.

“That was practically torture.” You grumbled as you padded through her room.

Heather had her back to you, her phone in her hands as she shot of a couple of texts, a small laugh escaping her lips, “and here I was thinking you would enjoy that caviar flight.”

“I’ve had fresher.” You replied with a huff, “and I meant the whole day not just dinner.”

She chuckled again, removing her earrings, placing them down for safe keeping, “no wonder you were so distracted, you spent more than half of it on your phone.” She finally turned to face you.

“I was simply killing time.” You stated with a shrug, the strap of your dress falling past your shoulder, “and now we’re here…” you cocked a brow in her direction and her lips pursed for a moment.

“Wait.” Her fingers reached out, neatly pulling the strap of your dress back over your shoulder, smoothing the fabric over your skin and she could feel the way you nearly tensed under her touch.

“Wait, what?” You dropped down onto the edge of her bed, suddenly feeling rather self conscious, “you need to take a call or something?”

“No, but I think you might have some thinking to do.”

“I’m confused.”

“We don’t need to do this.”

“We always do this,” you replied, your brows furrowing. It wasn’t that you were hurt or even disappointed, honestly you were a little too tired for her usual level of exertion. You were just incredibly perplexed, “it’s almost like a …tradition or something by now.”

“Sweetheart, know that I am definitely not turning you down,” she started, her hand gently pinching at your chin, “but are you sure you even want to fuck me right now? Or is this purely out of habit?”

Your lips parted as if you had something ready to say to her when your head tilted and your mouth shut once again, your lips pressed against each other tightly as you thought it over. You looked back up at her, your head still tilted as you surveyed her.

“Have you finally hit menopause?”

Heather gawked, barking out a laugh as she stepped towards the mini bar, plucking two of the mini goblets of wine and passing one to you. “Why on earth would you assume that?”

“I ‘ve known you over twenty years and you don’t turn down sex.”

A small grin took over her lips as she stepped back towards you, “I do when the other person is taken.”

“I’m not”—

She cut you off with a look and you were even more confused when her fingers slipped into the neckline of your dress, knuckles brushing your chest as she tugged it down and a sudden blush took over your cheeks.

“Maybe not by a label, but you are covered in possessive marks. Three that I can see on your tits, one that you’ve done a decent job covering up on your neck and I’m not even sure I want to know what I’ll find on your thighs.” She let the fabric spring back into its proper place, and you felt a little less exposed, shifting in your seat you could still feel the ache between your thighs.

“You’re over thinking things Heat, we had a rough session. I told her to be rough, to bite harder, she was just doing what I asked.”

“Possibly.” She unscrewed the wine, taking a sip, “but I think when it comes down to it, Emily Prentiss isn’t an idiot. She’s a profiler no matter what situation she’s in, it’s what comes naturally. She saw that bracelet, heard the teasing and jokes about how much it cost and your winter bonus after we’d been out of town and put two and two together that we fucked that week.”

You let out a tired sigh, your hand brushing over your face before you cracked your own drink to take a swig, “the literal teeth marks you left on my leg probably didn’t help.”

“Those should have healed by the weekend.”

“I saw her the night we got back.” You looked up to her with another groan, “and she knows I had blood taken that day…”

“And now she knew that we were travelling again and wanted to leave a little reminder. Whether for you or me, that’s still up for debate.” She chuckled, “it might not be jealousy, but I know how to read a situation and that’s what’s coming off right now. I highly doubt she wants to share anymore.”

“She always said she never wanted strings.” You shrugged, “I was just playing by the rules of the contract.”

“Contracts can always be ripped up,” she noted, “but that’s not important. What is, is what do you want.”

Looking up at her you were surprised when nothing instantly came to your mouth, instead gaping at her as your brain tried to unscramble all of the wires. You knew you enjoyed sex with Emily, that you enjoyed your time with her and certainly wouldn’t complain about more. Tony’s arguments had already been lingering in your brain all week, hell, you’d spent most of the day smiling at your phone like an idiot texting Emily about how bored you were.

Heather burst you out of your bubble back to reality when she tapped her finger to the tip of your nose, a knowing grin on her lips.

“My point exactly. You don’t spend a week and a half in the Maldives with someone and not fall for them. Especially with how incredibly sappy you get over the damn ocean. What I find puerile she likely finds endearing.”

“Sorry, what?”

This time the gentle poke landed on your forehead, “you’re smart. Now use that brain of yours to figure it out. You’ve been doing this arrangement for a while now, maybe it’s time to pull the plug. What direction you choose to go in after that is up to you and I think you already know. I shouldn’t have to spell it out for you at this point.” Her fingers fiddled with your earlobe, “you’ve been wearing those since you came back.”

“Huh…” you clucked your tongue, your own fingers replacing hers as you toyed with the starfish earring.

“Now go,” she swatted at your side, handing you the mini wine she’d taken a sip out of, “rack up a mini bar charge and do some thinking. Lord knows you didn’t use your brain for anything today but texting.”

You let out a mock scoff as you shuffled from the room, knowing that the comment was in jest, but made sure to swipe another drink from her fridge before you stepped back into your own room. Before you could even circle back and ask the original question, she was already a step ahead of you.

“And I brought you on this trip because we have brunch with the governor tomorrow and she’s got a soft spot for you. Thinks I’m too harsh or something, thought maybe you could warm her up.”

Right. There it was.

**

Over in DC, Emily was nearly in the same boat as you, although she’d already done her thinking about how she felt, it didn’t take a mastermind to realize that she had feelings. Feelings that were more than just sexual. If she had still been struggling with that last week, it was made pretty clear to her when the rage of jealousy surged through her at even the thought of DiNozzo managing to sleep with you. As the days crept by, she had finally accepted that the trip to the Maldives had been to get one up on Heather, to prove that something like that and the quality time that came along with it was worth far more than a stupid bracelet. A bracelet she hadn’t seen since, and on top of that, in every cute picture you’d sent her since coming home you’d been wearing the earrings she bought for you. Earrings that meant a hell of a lot more than a price tag.

Still, there shouldn’t have been any reason for her to still be closed in her office when it was pushing eleven pm.

Except that she didn’t want to go home. Home meant quiet, too quiet, too personal, too much space for her thoughts to start to get lost in. That meant seeing the toothbrush that belonged to you next to hers when she went to wash her face, the mini bottle of skin care tucked in a corner of her basin. It meant noticing that you’d left a sweater strewn over the back of her couch, a novel you were halfway through forgotten on her coffee table that would bring back the memory of you curled up on a chilly Sunday morning with a cup of coffee completely engrossed in the story while she slept in. It meant tossing and turning when she couldn’t sleep and ending up grabbing the other pillow only for the scent of your shampoo to invade her nose and keep her up all night until she spewed off some sappy revealing middle of the night text to you.

All things considered; work sounded like the safer option.

She was going back and fourth between a handful of casefiles, trying to figure out which one deemed priority once they wrapped their current one (or NCIS decided they could oversee the closing on their own). Take out sat relatively untouched to her side, at the very least she’d eaten the spring rolls and fortune cookie and there was no way she was getting through tonight without sneaking a coffee mug full of wine. The building was relatively quiet, and she thought she was alone until there was a knock on her door and she jolted upright, looking across the room to find DiNozzo lingering in the doorway.

He muttered an apology, crossing the room to add another file to her inbox as he ran through what he’d found. Emily could have sworn she was listening, she could hear his voice, she was processing the information, her brain already figuring out how to approach everything with the rest of the team in the morning, what kind of homework it likely meant for her and Garcia. Tony watched as she scribbled something down on a post it, sticking it to her computer monitor and started to step out of the room, half wondering if she was listening at all. She kept glancing towards her phone, poking the screen as if she was expecting a call, like phantom vibrations were going off and pulling her attention. He mumbled something about leaving, that she should probably head home soon too and she made a noise in his direction as her eyes fell to her phone again, this time swiping it open to her messenger app before letting out a soft sigh. He had made it all the way to the door by the time her voice rang through the office clear as day.

“Hey, what time is it in Salt Lake right now?”

“Uh…” He pulled his wrist up, studying his watch, “they’re two hours behind us so… eight fifty three?”

Emily let out a hum of sorts, her fingers prodding at her phone again as if she expected it to jump to life out of nowhere. As much as Tony wanted to get out of there, a movie and a cold beer calling his name, he knew that look of longing too much, hand faltering on the doorjamb as he pulled himself back into her office.

“You know, those political dinners, they’re insane, entire theatre productions from start to finish.” He waved his hand for exaggeration, “it doesn’t matter how fast anyone wants them done with, someone’s gonna order every single course and one of every dessert, they drag on for hours.” He glanced down to her phone screen, “she’s probably out rubbing elbows pretending she knows how to smoke a cigar.”

“Huh?” Emily’s attention was finally pulled from her thoughts and she looked up at the man, a near concerned look written across her face and he sighed softly, daring to step further into her office.

“Listen, I know this isn’t exactly my place, and I’m definitely not a profiler, but I’m still an investigator…”

“Go on…” She folded her arms in front of her, elbows propped on her desk.

“This is about Walton and Heather being out of town together again, right?”

“She’s out of town, that doesn’t bother me.”

“But you found out about their… extracurriculars…” He offered, cautiously sitting down in a chair across from her desk and she let out a small huff, her eyes darting over to her phone for a second to avoid the question.

“Yeah.”

Tony’s head nodded, biting his lip for a second as he debated just how much of a verbal lashing he could get for something like this, “and you’re not a fan of that, so you’re sitting here still pretending to work rather than going home to relax because you know once you do you won’t be able to think of anything except that and that sounds even worse.”

Emily’s eyes snapped from her phone up to Tony as she jumped back into the conversation that was actually happening rather than the thoughts flying around in her head and her eyes narrowed, casting him a look so hard that he nearly gulped.

“I’m in my office late all the time.” She attempted to justify, “maybe you wouldn’t get it but as a team leader there is literally always something to do, another problem to solve another case to dwell over.”

“Yeah but it isn’t all about work, you’ve gotta have something to distract yourself.”

“I did—I- ac- do!” She tried to hide her flub but the smirk on his lips was telling that he already caught it and she groaned, praying her cheeks weren’t visibly heated, “c’mon. What does Gibbs do?”

“Builds boats in his garage.”

“Miniatures?”

“Full sized. In sailable condition.”

“Huh…” Emily’s head titled, her brow furrowing as her gaze drifted out the window, silence taking over the room for a moment before she spoke again, “how does he get them out?”

“No one knows.” He shrugged.

“Huh…”

Tony chuckled, letting her try to figure it out for a minute before shoving his nose back into her business, “listen, I know it’s not my place at all, but I do know her pretty well and I know she really likes spending time with you. She can be a bit of an enigma and that’s only gotten more intense the longer she’s worked the job she has, having to play pretend and like she’s best friends with half those douchebags when in reality she doesn’t let a lot of people in… ever.”

“And what? I’m ‘the one who’s different’?” Emily nearly scoffed as her fingers made air quotes around the words, pulling a small laugh out of DiNozzo.

“Considering the amount of crap you have lying around her apartment, yeah.” His lips curved up into a grin at her surprised reaction, “she likes you. And she’s reasonable. You wanna change whatever agreement you have, I’m sure she’ll be up for it.”

“Yeah?” She raised a brow, an unsettling feeling in her gut as her eyes dropped to her phone once again, still utterly void of notifications, “and if she comes home with teeth marks again?”

“From what I’ve heard you left some pretty impressive bruises yourself.” It slipped out of his mouth before he even realized and Emily made an unintelligible noise before blushing, sinking deeper into her chair. “Besides, Heather is the last of your worries, okay? She’s never going to be a threat, she’s married, always will be and always has a string of other mistresses, that isn’t long term for anyone and it was always incredibly casual between them. But that doesn’t mean that someone else won’t come along, take it from me, you’re gonna wanna say something before it’s too late.”

A sparkle flashed through Emily’s eyes, a sneaky grin taking over her lips as she shifted gears, “yeah? Ziva get a boyfriend?”

“Arrrhhhh!” Tony let out a frustrated groan as he pulled himself up from the chair, stomping his feet in a little tantrum, pouting when he turned back to her, “she went on a daaaaaate.”

“Then buck up and take your own advice DiNozzo.” She laughed and he huffed.

“Fine.” Grumbling he made his way back to the door before he suddenly turned back, “can I ask one last thing?”

“Sure.”  She figured the least she could do was humour him at this point.

“Do you guys have some kinda Pretty Woman rule going on?”

“What?” Her brow furrowed as she let out a laugh, “DiNozzo come on, I thought you of all people would have put t together by now. Yeah, I take her on dates, gift her cash, she… compensates otherwise.”

“No.” He chuckled, “have you seen the movie?”

“Not in about a million years.”

“Julia Roberts character has this thing, she doesn’t kiss her clients, especially on the lips, it’s too intimate, too personal.”

“Okay…” The confused expression remained on her face, having no clue what he was getting at.

“Think about it. When you greet each other, or say good bye, is it an actual kiss greeting, one of the more casual cheek kisses? Are there those longing goodbye kisses where you can’t let go of the other person because you don’t want to leave, or is it brief and that lingering feeling’s like, tickling away under your skin instead?”

“I…” Emily’s gaze dropped, thinking through as many of your interactions as she could. It made sense that any greetings were impersonal, they were usually in public, everything had been kept on a strict business level of communication when you’d first started. You barely kissed on the mouth in more intimate moments. “Huh…”

“See?” Tony stepped backwards toward the door, “movie magic, always a truth to it. Next time you see her? Kiss her. Really kiss her. Because if anything it’ll help you realize that you never want to let her go.”

“I think you might spend a little bit too much time watching romance movies.” She laughed.

“Really?” He raised a brow, “then prove me wrong.”

**

You were sitting on your hotel bed, phone twirling around between your hands as you stared at whatever the television was playing. You’d spent far too long in the shower trying to clear your head, using every single toiletry they had before drying yourself off with the fluffiest towel and putting on your pyjamas. Sinking against the headboard you’d drifted off to a field of memories, the visions replaying in your mind as you ignored the television. When those weren’t enough you’d opened the photo gallery on your phone, scrolling through the assortment of pictures, mainly ones from the Maldives, too many of the ocean to even count.

The door between your rooms remained unlocked, cracked open so you could still bother each other. Heather had assumedly gotten an email or update about the morning, knocking briefly before swinging the door open. She stayed perched in the doorway, letting you have your space while she rambled on. She stopped suddenly, looking up from her phone to catch you staring into space, your eyes completely unfocused.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Huh?” You looked up, blinking a few times as you returned to earth.

“What is going on in that pretty little head?” Heather asked, relaxing against the doorjamb as her arms crossed over her chest, “I leave you for a couple of hours and your zonked out? Talk to me.”

You let out a tired huff, swiping the mini wine bottle from the nightstand and draining it in one go, “how am I supposed to do this?”

“Do what?” Her voice was softer than you’d expected it, the more maternal side of her beginning to come out.

“Shift from being a sugar baby to… more…” When you looked up at her there was a level of hesitancy she had never seen behind your eyes.

“Just tell her you want to end the arrangement, gauge her response, readjust and go from there.” She replied, as if it was easy as placing a coffee order.

“I dunno…” your eyes dropped, “I mean, all I’ve heard are the horror stories of girls crying on your doorstep being nearly pathetic cause they want more. Hell, I’ve witnessed that Heather. It doesn’t exactly look like a fun time.”

“You’re overthinking. And you’re worried.” The other woman’s face fell at the way you started picking at your cuticles.

“Obviously.” You let out an unsure laugh before looking up at her, “I mean, c’mon. She’s a fucking profiler, there’s no way that she hasn’t figured me out yet, even if it took me longer. She reads body language for a living and if she wanted to have more she would have said something already.” You took another swig of wine, “I let you and Tony get under my skin, let you plant ideas in my head and now it’s all I can think about. I can’t focus, I haven’t gotten a single piece of work done and I…”

“Oh sweetheart…” Heather’s voice softened once again, moving through the room to perch on the foot of the bed.

“What?” You asked dryly, looking up at her.

“You’re not just worried, you’re scared.”

“Well…” you gestured vaguely and let out a huff, “it all seems kind of ridiculous. I mean, have you ever felt like this? Been this confused?”

“Of course.” She chuckled.

“But you’re so… distant, cold even. You’ve got all these rules and they’re strict.”

“What a pleasant way of calling me a bitch.” She teased with a smirk and you rolled your eyes, “I had those kind of feelings and internal panic when I first started dating my husband.” She let that sink in, “which is why you shouldn’t think about or compare anything that has ever happened with me and a sugar baby, because its not the same.”

“What’d you mean?”

“They’re never long term.” Her head shook, “It’s all about the business, the transaction and as you said, I keep extremely strict lines. Yours have started to blur. Emily’s not married, she’s not committed to anyone else and neither are you, it’s easy to start to slip out of whatever boundaries you previously set, especially if you like each other. What started out as an arrangement sometimes does turn into something real, and while I haven’t really seen the two of you together I can definitely understand why it would work out so I think it’s worth a shot.”

You sighed, and Heather frowned at how dejected you looked in that moment, “I dunno….”

She squeezed at your hand, “you’re all caught up in your head thinking about all the things that could go terribly wrong, but hear me out… what if they go right?”

Heather didn’t give you time to reply, rather she leant in, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head before sweeping from the room, the adjoining door swinging shut behind her and you heard the click of the lock shutting.

**

Emily finally dragged herself out of the office after DiNozzo’s visit, try as she might to get a little bit more work done, she now found that his words kept repeating themselves through her brain. If she couldn’t focus on anything, she may as well be able to do it in the comfort of her own home and definitely without her bra digging into her ribcage.

She poured a glass of wine, taking her first sip as she stared out the windows, sweeping across the view and let out a soft sigh. It felt like not that long ago she was standing in the same spot trying to figure out what was missing from her life. Now she knew exactly what she was missing, she missed you, missed your weekly dates that had become more frequent over time. Spending time with you made her happy, you made her happy, wasn’t that what she had wanted in the first place? Happiness? Someone to spend time with that made her heart sing? She huffed out a laugh, maybe that was a little too over the top. She’d wanted someone to spend her time with that made it enjoyable, that brought out a different side to her than the one who worked constantly. You just so happened to be that for her. You also just happened to be the one who was across the country not thinking about her at all while you were the only thing she could think of.

“Fuck..” She whispered softly, dropping her gaze from the window as she sulked towards the living room to drop down on the couch.

She was jealous.

And she absolutely hated that.

You weren’t technically hers, you had both agreed on your limitations, on what was okay outside of your agreement and until the two of you had time to revisit that, she had no real right to be feeling like this. Her free hand twitched and her eyes darted back to the kitchen cupboard she had a pack of cigarette’s stashed for times just like this. She took another swig of wine, nearly draining the glass in an attempt to clog her thoughts, about to stand up when her phone buzzed on the coffee table.

She was genuinely surprised to see a message from you flash across the screen. While you had been texting pretty regularly throughout the afternoon, the moment dinner time hit had been nothing but radio silence. She picked it up, swiping open the thread.

‘God, remind me to never take a SLC trip again. I’ve never been so bored in my life. We’ve got a pit stop in Kansas City on the way but I should be back in DC in time for a late dinner tomorrow… if you’re interested?’

Her heart leapt in her throat and she had to try to resist immediately typing out every little feeling that was flying through her brain in the moment. Instead, she took a breath, finished the last of her wine and replied with something easy.

‘I’d love that.’

She got up, moving toward the kitchen, though the thought of a smoke was far gone from her brain now, she just figured another glass of wine wouldn’t hurt.

‘You better not still be at the office.’

The warning text came through with a playful emoji to make sure she knew you were teasing. She smiled softly, snapping a picture of the wine glass with the view in the background and sending it back to you. It didn’t take long for your next message to come through.

‘Good. But it’s late. Make sure you get some rest tonight.’

‘You too.’

Emily felt her shoulders drop as she let out a breath, moving back to the couch sans cigarettes to finish her wine with a feeling of hope resting in her chest.

_________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @hopedoesntknow @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovakxprentiss @soverign @v3nusxsky @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @asolitaryrose3 @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice @d33pd3sire-blog @daffodil-heart @maximoffcarter @i-lovefandom @chimnlex @moonlightjxuregui @chestnutninny @gamma-rae-bursts @just-moondust @idkifimasub @gaydragonwitch @dowsedwithbleach @divergentalwaysandforever-blog @m1lfsh4ke

[bloodycyrano]

I'm bored, here's team tadpole at the beach.

Karlach: splashing her feet in the water and looking at all the critters in the tide pools. She's probably making the most dope sandcastle you will ever see, with Clive as the ruler.

Shadowheart: Shadowheart doesn't tan. Shadowheart burns. She burns *bad*. Shadowheart is sitting under a very large umbrella, gossiping to Astarion, and religiously re-applying sunscreen every thirty minutes.

Halsin: Halsin is a bear. He's just a fluffy bear, relaxing in the sand. Perhaps he splashes about in the water a bit. Maybe he takes a moment in biped-form to whittle a duck. But he spends 99.9% of the time as a bear.- He also accidentally sat on Karlach's sandcastle, and spent the rest of the evening helping her to rebuild it even better.

Gale: Gale is trying to take a break from being camp dad, and failing miserably. He's constantly trying to remind everyone to hydrate and take some time in the shade so they don't get sun-sick, all while trying to relax and enjoy the beach himself. He ends up falling asleep in the sun, rolling over, and sunburning the left half of his body.

Wyll: Perhaps the only one who's managed to actually relax, Wyll has tried a bit of everything. Laying out in the sun, having a snack, drinking a bit of wine, and admiring the waves. Wyll, upon noticing that Karlachs sand castle got ruined, also decided to help rebuild it.

Tav/durge: Does not like the sun, was forced to come out. They're extremely overstimulated right now and have spent most of the time either in the water or digging a massive hole in the sand. Durge specifically has been making a lot of weird jokes about drowning people.

Astarion: Was the one who sent Tav/durge to dig a hole to blow off steam. Astarion has been pulling some small pranks and gossiping with Shadowheart. Most notably, the group very quickly learned not to ask Astarion to help apply sunscreen to their backs, because it resulted in bad words and drawings sunburning into their skin.

Jaheira: Has been enjoying the sun, she's had a glass of wine, and is currently trying to keep an eye on durge to make sure they don't ACTUALLY drown someone. Minsc has been keeping her company, somewhat.

Minsc: Got into a fistfight with a shark, had character development, and then tried to hunt down and apologize to the shark. Spent the rest of the night feeding Boo little treats from the snack table.

Minthara: Can't fucking see in this bright ass weather. This has made her exceptionally grumpy.

Lae'zel: Lae'zel sees absolutely no point in this little excursion. She spent about a fucking hour sharpening her sword, most of the time has been spent shadow-boxing and training. She thought training in the heat of the sun would help boost her discipline and physical tolerance, but then she got sick. It took 4 people to convince her to try and cool off in the water.

[sinsirellaxx]

Yandere Alphabet – Daemon Targaryen

Warning: Yandere themes!

Requested by: @reagan10108 – hope you'll like it! ❤️

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get? So intense – Daemon is extremely temperamental and fiery, which definitely bleeds into his relationship with his significant other as well. A relationship with him would be extremely passionate but also tiring and suffocating. He’d shower his partner with affection whenever he could with small gestures, lots and lots of physical touch and slow songs hummed against his partner’s temple at night.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling? We’re talking about the Rogue Prince, so … he’d paint the whole world red just for his darling.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them? This depends on his darling. If his darling rejects and fights him, he’ll be cruel and mock the reader until they break. He’ll be relentless in breaking you.

If the darling is scared, he’d take a softer approach. But he’d still make sure that they understand that there is no way out for the darling – the only escape is death.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will? This one is hard …  I don’t necessarily see him as someone who’d force himself on his darling because he’s too proud and does not want to be a monster. But I also think that he’d have his limits too, which means, that he’d resort to manipulating his darling into sleeping with him if he had too. And he’s not known for his patience either.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling? He’d definitely be the most vulnerable with his darling, but I don’t see him opening up that fast into their relationship. It would take a lot of trust for him to open up, which is quite difficult given the context.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back? He’d be riled up – torn between loving and hating the fire in his darling’s eyes. But one thing’s sure: He’d grow uncomfortably hard as he yanked their head back by their hair, the cute frown on his darling’s face only adding to the fire burning through his veins.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape? During his youth I can see Daemon loving the chase but the older he gets the less he would want to deal with such nonsense. He’d rather have his darling trapped on his lap while enjoying their warmth.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them? Even if he does enjoy the chase, the consequences would be grave for his darling. A moon after being abducted and his darling growing more comfortable around him, Daemon had relaxed a little. He’d allowed his darling to roam around the gardens under his watchful eyes – the Targaryen prince enjoying his darling’s relaxed features.

One day, after returning to his chambers, his darling had hugged him tightly, thanking him for the new freedom they had received. Daemon had chuckled lowly, as his hands stroked over their back fondly. He had let go of his darling, turning around to grab a cup from the table, his other hand reaching for the jug of wine only for his hand to come up empty.  Weird. The Rogue Prince frowned until realization washed over him. The hairs on the back of his neck raised and before he could whip around to face his darling something hard was whacked over his head.

He momentarily lost focus, his head throbbing from the impact and his eyes burning from the wine dripping into his eyes. He could hear his partner’s footsteps rushing out of the room.

And that was his darling’s first attempt at escaping Daemon. It was also the first time Daemon had forced himself on his darling.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling? Daemon wishes for peace and serenity, with the occasional excursions on dragon back. If his darling can have children, he’d have as many as they could. If not, he’d be content with indulging in his darling for as long as he could.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope? 100 % do not recommend making Daemon jealous. It would be difficult not to make him jealous. No matter who his darling talked to, looked at, breathed at – he’d be suspicious if not jealous. His way of coping would entail taking it out on his darling in the bedroom or fighting whoever came close to you.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling? In the privacy of his chambers, he’d be softer and calmer with his darling. Outside, in front of others, he’d be on high alert. He’d be tense, grumpy and extremely protective.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling? Daemon isn’t one to shy away from a challenge – and courting his darling would be one of many challenges he’d face. He’d be chivalrous, gifting you jewelry with his houses crest to mark you as his. He’d watch out for his darling and always tell the kitchens to prepare your favorites whenever they were there. But his chivalry only lasted for so long – if his darling rejected his advances or played hard to get he’d resort to more drastic measures.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else? He is mischievous and manipulative yes, but he’s not someone who’d hide behind a mask.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling? He’d be quite mean about it – he’d degrade his darling and spank them. If his darling wants to act bratty, he’ll treat them like one.

If it’s more drastic he’d isolate the reader completely.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

At the beginning he’d completely restrict his darling. His darling would have to earn his trust to be allowed more privileges. The darling wouldn’t be allowed to walk around without him or talk to people that weren’t part of his family.

Daemon would even control his darling’s outfits – they would always have to wear his colors and their jewelry with the Targaryen crest.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Not at all. He has had to wait a lifetime for his niece until he finally gave up, enraptured by his darling, so, why should he wait? He’d want his darling immediately.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on? If his darling escapes, he’d look for them everywhere until he found them. He’ll only stop looking for his darling if he has them in his arms or if he is physically unable to.

If his darling dies in his arms, he’d try to preserve their body for as long as he could – not ready to ever let go of his darling.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go? No. This man knows no regrets.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)? He is a Targaryen – I guess the coin landed on the wrong side.

But also: Second-born-son-syndrome. (Spare-Syndrome)

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He wouldn’t be necessarily sad but instead it would aggravate and provoke him. Why were you acting up? Why wouldn’t you just accept him? He was spoiling you rotten and you still didn’t appreciate all his efforts?

He’d demand you to stop crying, gripping your chin harshly while spitting the words against your lips.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?Due to the power he holds as a prince and a dragon rider he’d have it easier in many aspects: abducting his darling on dragon back would be like a walk through the park. He could take his darling anywhere and no one could do anything – no one would dare to. He’s the Rogue Prince after all.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?There are no weaknesses.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling? Yes, I can see Daemon manhandling and hurting his darling. (Have you seen the way he chocked Nyra?)

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over? He’d have to have his darling – 100 %. He’d secretly worship his darling but wouldn’t make it obvious – he couldn’t allow any openings for his darling to use.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap? As mentioned above, he has wasted so many years pining after his niece but now that he has his darling, his new obsession, he cannot wait any longer. So, he’d snap pretty fast.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling? Yes – even if unintentionally.

[l4long-winded]

Please I have to share an idea- Luca being a big tall man who is ridiculous hot but also a bit of a dork (when he was talking to that other chef 💀😭) has me absolutely feral. Maybe she has a bad previous dates and is sceptical of this handsome guy thinking he’d be an ass but he would show her how perfect boyfriend he is 😍

you meet luca through carmen. your experience with cooking staff thus far led you to believe they all had these compulsive streaks. egos and motivations that didn't signal to you they'd be the best partners. it's not out of any kind of grudge you hold towards others. however, seeing carmen's recently failed relationship and the tumultuous nature of the bear in general, your doubts aren't without valid reason.

you don't consider yourself perfect in the dating realm, either. your success with men has been... others would kindly describe it as unlucky, but you would describe it as embarrassing. dates that go on too long, men who talk and talk and talk, who don't allow you a word in, who expect you to pay and put out in the same night. you're fine paying for your meals, fine even being the listener of a relationship, but it's ridiculous how much you're willing to let slide in your standards, only for these men consecutively failing to meet the bare minimum.

you're on a break from dating when you're introduced to luca. his warm hand lingers, but not for too long, when it sits in yours. his smile is charming, the nod of his head polite as he asks you about your background, small talk easily engaged in because you're not immune to the lull of his cyan eyes, the soft thrum of his accent, and how he spends extra time at your side rather than the other more important people floating about. you share contact details at the end of the night, reluctant to leave, but your responsibilities are calling.

it surprises you when luca winds up calling you two days later (he had to give it a day, at least). your first date in over a year gets planned over that call. you hesitate for it as his voice carries through the line. it would fucking suck if you fell out with someone like this, but the temptation builds far too much, and your curiosity for more gets the better of you. he's tall. he's handsome. he's respectful. you feel like you'd be stupid not to accept his invitation.

he exceeds your expectations. in typical fashion, he takes you to a restaurant a normal person would take months to gain a reservation at, marveling over how lovely you look. he compliments you, greets you with a kiss to your knuckles, adjusts his coat jacket like... like...

like he's nervous.

"is it to your standard? picking up on the oak notes?" he asks shyly, his gaze on the lipstick stain on the rim of your wine glass. you have to assure him of your fondness of the flavor because he gets so close to ordering another bottle to ensure it's to your preference.

luca isn't like other men. he thoughtfully chooses his questions. there's a slight fumble in his words as he carries the conversation, but it never feels awkward. it feels easy to talk to him, and the more than you do, the more you realize how much of a dork he really is. and it's the sweetest fucking thing. it attracts you in further, the promise of another date on the horizon after he picks up the check, insists on it since he's the one who asked you on this excursion, he's the one who had the privilege of wining and dining with you, so it's his responsibility.

curiously, in the following dates you ask him on, he still doesn't allow you to pick your money up. more excuses. a gentleman through and through who opens your doors, his hand resting on the small of your back as the two of you take walks, always so genuinely invested in how your day went even if nothing really happened during it, staying and encouraging you to talk about your emotions when you're overwhelmed without pressuring you, cooking you dinner, and wanting you to be the first to taste desserts he's experimenting with.

he's a steady guidance. he yaps and yaps when the right topic is at hand, muttering soft apologies when he's gone on longer than twenty minutes speaking on a chef you don't know and will probably never meet. but you care too much to be bothered. you like how his eyes light up. you like how his hands move when he speaks. you like how luca is imperfect, aware of it, but he's yours. he's a walking contradiction, but purely boyfriend material, and you are so glad you gave him the chance. all those unlucky dates of the past no longer matter.

they carved the path to luca, and you're grateful for it every day.

[lovexdeepspace]

birthday celebration | rafayel

summary - rafayel knew the perfect way to repay you for all that you had done for his birthday

warnings - absolutely none save for the fact of how self-indulgent this is

note - i'm a raf girly til the end and with my birthday being the day after his plus the cute little birthday stuff in-game, this was a must. after this, i will start working on the many lovely requests i've been sent! it's such an honor to have been welcomed so warmly into the community!! <3

!! divider by @cafekitsune !!

"rafayel, where are we going?"

with his hands covering your eyes, you were helpless as he led you down what could only be described as a beaten path given how many times you almost tripped. as if you questioning his plans gave any indication you could see, he tightened his hold.

"for the third time now, it's a surprise," he stressed, tapping your temples with his thumbs. "don't you trust me?"

you chuckled and replied, "well, seeing as this whole escapade started because you faked an emergency to get me to rush over, not really."

your smile grew when you heard rafayel huff behind you and you could just imagine the way his cheeks were puffed out.

"it's all part of my plan! you'll see," he retorted, directing you to the right and muttering, "there was a rock."

you laughed and reached up, gently patting his hands. "alright, alright, i trust you. though i hope you know i've got the slightest inclination on what this excursion is for."

"i'd be more concerned if you didn't, honestly," rafayel shot back, suddenly stopping. "i'm gonna take my hands away so close your eyes. don't open them until i say so, got it?"

you nodded, shutting your eyes as asked. you felt rafayel slowly peel his hands away from your face, then take them back as soon as he was sure your eyes were shut. excitement coursed through you as you heard hurried footsteps go from behind you to in front of you, then a bit of a ways away.

"raf?" you called out after a moment, brows furrowing as you grew slightly impatient.

"alright, alright, open your eyes!"

blinking a few times to adjust to the bright sunlight, you gasped when you were able to make out the sight of an elaborate picnic set up overlooking the most picturesque field of flowers you'd ever seen. sitting atop a checkered blanket you recognized from rafayel's studio sat an array of your favorite foods, two glasses, an expensive looking bottle of wine, and the man himself, grinning with his arms spread.

"well? what do ya think?" he asked, extending a hand for you to take. as soon as you got over the initial shock you put your hand in his and allowed him to pull you down next to him. "i found this spot months ago, right before i met you. i was at a real low in creativity and other aspects in life but this view sparked such a vivid inspiration that i thought nothing could rival it."

as he spoke you drank in the scenery, in complete awe of such raw beauty. hues of red, blue, yellow, and green stretched as far as the eye could see, illuminated by the early afternoon sun. you didn't dare pry your eyes away from such a sight, even as rafayel dropped his head to your shoulder.

"how wrong i was," he continued, his fingers lacing between yours. "it was as if the world said 'hold my beer, i got this'. then, bam, you appeared a couple days later! now all sights come second to the one i've got sitting right next to me."

with an embarrassed chuckle you give his hand a loving squeeze, resting your cheek atop his head. with his free hand, rafayel reached behind him and grabbed a small box. he toyed with the ribbon for a second before putting it in your lap gently.

"happy birthday, my love," he whispered, gesturing to the box. you used your free hand to untie the box, opening it to reveal a sole cupcake adorned with red-yellow buttercream and a beautiful gold-pink pearl crowning it. "you always know how to make me feel so special and i can only hope that this—" he gestured to the cupcake, then to the picnic, then the field, "—shows you how much i appreciate you."

[avatar-anna]

Sugar & Spice

What if y/n was Harry's tour chef and harry has a huge ass crush on her so he would be like the first one seated for y/ns food and he would always compliment her

i was wondering if you could do one where the reader asked him to come over for comfort (maybe her bf cheated idk) and after she stops feeling so bad they have a moment and end up kissing and then their feelings get all confused??

"Make something that would make someone fall in love with you."

Your heart still thundered at the words, the soft request that felt like a demand caressing your thoughts and sending chills down your spine. Pastel anticipation stirred within your belly as you kept an eye on the saucepan in front of you.

The apartment was rich with the smell of spices. Harry had asked for a dish, but you were about to serve him a full-course meal, all teeming with flavor and color, the smell of everything fusing together in your kitchen and leaking throughout the rest of the apartment in a cuisine symphony. Even the pan full of molten chocolate permeated the room, the hint of chili you added to it cutting through the richness.

An arm snaked around your waist, the other reaching to sneak a taste of the chocolate sauce in front of you, a searing kiss to the back of your neck trying to act as a distraction. But when you were in the kitchen, you had laser-sharp focus. You smacked the hand away playfully, but not without intention.

"How much longer?" Harry asked, nipping at your jaw.

The breath on your neck, the lips on your skin, the hand on your waist sent you leaning into him, but not without the aftershock of surprise.

You were his tour caterer, his employee, and while the two of you had grown quite close since Live on Tour began, you were just friends. Harry was always first in line when dinner was being served and sometimes helped clean up when he could. He joined you on small excursions to farmer's markets to buy fresh ingredients and listened to you go on and on about the value of farm-fresh, locally sourced produce.

Food, cooking, creating, they were all things that cultivated your passion, one you could talk about for ages, if given the chance. Not many did, even your boyfriend's eyes glazed over if you talked about a new way to prepare cauliflower for too long. But Harry was always willing to listen and even peppered you with questions that you were more than happy to answer.

You became fast friends. You cooked for him during the day and talked and laughed over a bottle of wine and bread and cheese at night after his shows, riding out his adrenaline until he eventually walked you back to your hotel room or tour bus, depending on where you were traveling. Harry was a good friend, a great one even, one you knew you would cherish far beyond this tour.

Until tonight, where the jury was still out on the status of said friendship.

Because tonight something...changed.

Harry's show was in your hometown, and as such, you invited your boyfriend to come to the show. Being on the road for long months on end didn't make maintaining a relationship easy, and things had become strained, but tonight was meant to be an olive branch. You were excited to see your boyfriend after being away from him for so long, had gushed to Harry about how you were going to make his favorite meal and sleep soundly in your bed instead of a hotel room or bus bunk.

But before any of that could happen, your boyfriend admitted to having cheated on you while you were gone.

You were a wreck. You knew things between you and your boyfriend weren't great, but you never imagined that he would cheat. His confession swept the ground out from beneath you, blindsiding you in a way that manifested in calm confusion as you told him things were over between the two of you. But when he left and you were alone in the tour venue's kitchen, you could feel the breakdown coming. So instead of going to Harry's show, as you normally did, you went straight to the apartment you hadn't seen in months. Harry came shortly after the concert was over.

Having been in a relationship, and never considering yourself the cheating type, you never saw Harry as anything more than a friend. He was lovely, and oh so sweet, and very, very handsome. He was interested in your work and made you laugh and enjoyed talking to you as much as you liked talking to him. But he was your boss, and a celebrity, and you had a boyfriend. It was pretty cut and dry.

When he arrived on your doorstep, you were wrapped in a blanket, only the center of your face poking out of it. Harry cuddled up next to you on the couch and let you cry and rant and cry some more. He kissed the top of your head and wiped your nose with the sleeve of his tour sweatshirt. And despite your red, puffy eyes, despite the tears hanging off the tips of your lashes, Harry leaned in, nudged his nose against yours in a way that had you leaning in too, and you let him kiss you.

It was startling. Not that Harry was a good kisser, that seemed like a given. No, what was startling was how much you enjoyed it, how tender the slide of his mouth against yours was. He was gentle, like he was trying to be respectful of the fact that you'd broken up with your boyfriend mere hours ago. But the flash of your boyfriend's face behind your eyelids had you pulling away from him in an instant.

You were single technically, but it still didn't feel right; no matter how much you might've liked the kiss, no matter how much Harry seemed to enjoy it as well. You hid from Harry in your room. Not because you were hung up on your boyfriend, but because it felt so right to kiss Harry. And that thought filled you with panic and guilt.

Harry was still there when you eventually stepped out of your room, willing to listen as he always was, but you didn't say anything, just walked over to the kitchen and asked if he was hungry.

There were words left unsaid between the two of you, but both of you seemed content to ignore them for now, though when Harry murmured, "Make a dish that you would use to seduce someone. Make them fall in love with you," it was clear how he felt. He put himself out there, waiting to see if you would accept the advances or reject them.

And now he was wrapped around you, kissing you like he'd been doing it for years.

"Mmm. The peach and burrata salad is done, the fried duck wings just need a glaze, the rice should be done any minute now, the chocolate needs just a little more—"

"Okay, so you need more time. Can I help you set the table, at least?" he said, huffing out a laugh.

You could only manage a nod and a quick murmur of where he could find what he needed. Your eyes stayed on the food cooking in front of you, but you heard every noise Harry made as he moved through your kitchen.

*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.**.*.*.

Somehow you ended up on Harry's lap, a homemade churro doused in cinnamon and sugar and dipped in chocolate poised toward his mouth. His eyes were heavy-lidded as he took a bite, the crunch a harsh sound as he closed his eyes and moaned at the taste.

The sound had you blushing. You knew it was because of the food, and if you looked past the bashfulness, you would be proud that your cooking skills elicited such a reaction.

You could've made something fancy, something that would've shown off your culinary skills in a way that catering to everyone on tour didn't give you the opportunity to do. But when you began rooting around the kitchen, your hands automatically went for the rice cooker, and things just kind of went from there.

The appetizers were unique, you supposed. Fried duck wings with a lemon glaze and a mixed green salad with burrata cheese, peach slices, and a number of other colorful things that brought it to life. But the main course was fairly simple, still full of flavor, but simple. Chicken and rice and beans, almost the exact same recipe you'd grown up with. Harry asked for something that would make someone fall in love with you, and you figured there was no better way to do that than the root, the catalyst, for your love of the kitchen.

Harry marveled at all of it, listening as he normally did when you talked about knife techniques, and cooking times, and flavor profiles. You talked, perhaps to cover up your nerves, as you plated and served everything, and when you went to sit across from him, Harry gently grabbed you by the waist, and now here you were.

Harry's fingers grazed your arm in lazy circles, over the tattoos inked on your skin. They were all over your arms and abdomen, a passion you had that was almost as strong as your love for cooking. It was the first commonality you shared with Harry when you said hello after serving him and the rest of the crew the first meal of the tour. Both of you were busy at the time and couldn't discuss tattoos at length the way both of you seemed to want to, but Harry stopped by during lunch the next day, and the two of you talked over shrimp fried rice you'd whipped up.

"This...This shouldn't be this good," Harry finally managed to say.

It took a moment to find your voice, Harry's voice low in a way that made you suppress a shiver. But you said despite your dry mouth, "I'm glad you like it."

"And—And is it spicy? The chocolate? It's subtle, but I swear it's there."

"Chili powder. Just a little," you said with a nod.

"Oh. Well, don't let me eat all of it. Here," he said, offering the dessert in his hand to you.

You eyed the plate on the table that had three more churros on it and a bowl filled nearly to the brim with chocolate sauce, then back to him with raised eyebrows. Harry had the decency to blush, but he didn't back away or lower his hand. So, with a confidence that you didn't know you had or knew where it came from, you took a bite, just like he had.

You could feel Harry's eyes on you, which was alarming seeing as there wasn't really a sexy way to eat something so messy. Not that you were trying to be sexy, but Harry's gaze practically lit you on fire. You didn't want to be unappealing in front of him. He didn't seem to notice or care, though, just kept his eyes on you.

"You have something on your—"

He finished his sentence by reaching up to brush something away from the corner of your mouth. At least that's what you thought he was trying to do. But when his thumb grazed your skin, something warm, warmer than the heat of his skin, smeared over your lips. Chocolate.

Eyes widened, you opened your mouth to ask what he was doing, but he spoke first.

"I'll get it."

But instead of using his hand, he slid his mouth over yours.

You became as molten as the chocolate you made to dip the churros in, the kiss heating you from the inside. The first kiss you shared earlier in the evening had been tentative, curious. This one was pure heat as Harry licked over your bottom lip, sweeping up the chocolate on it that he'd placed there, and when you opened up for him, it lingered on his tongue along with the wine you picked out to go with dinner.

Harry barely gave you any time to gasp. He kissed you like he was starved, his kiss bruising in a way that had you pulling him tighter rather than pulling back, taking those curls that were just as soft as you thought they would be and gripping them tight between your fingers. His hands were warm beneath the thin material of your t-shirt, tracing the tattoo just above your belly button that spanned across your abdomen with the pads of his fingers. Angel, it read in big, bold script. Some people found it appalling, others intriguing or striking. You never really cared what people thought of your tattoos. Until you felt Harry's stare burning into your stomach every time your shirt rode up tonight to reveal bits and pieces of it tonight, that is.

"What—What are we doing?" you managed to breathe.

One of his hands had grazed your neck, leaving a trail of chocolate sauce in their wake, and Harry was now doing his best to clean it with his tongue. His other hand rose dangerously close to just below your breast, the anticipation of his touch making you shudder, but it also made a seed of hesitation take root in your mind.

Harry paused and faced you again, though his nose nearly touched yours. "I...I don't know," he said, and while that only made the seed grow, you appreciated his honesty. "I like how I feel when I'm around you. And I know it's messy with the tour and your—with your ex-boyfriend and everything, but...I don't know. I don't like shying away from a good feeling."

That's exactly what it was. Messy. What happened if things progressed from here and didn't work out? You had a job to do, you worked for Harry. You might have been able to acknowledge that good feeling Harry was talking about—a complete understatement, "good" didn't seem to do whatever was forming between the two of you justice—but you weren't sure it was worth possibly losing your job or compromising your raw emotions over. He might've been able to chase his feelings, but you couldn't.

"I—I would never fire you, or anything like that," he said, seeming to read your thoughts as they flitted through your mind. "And I'll respect your decision, whatever it is. I won't even bring it up again if you don't want me to."

The sincerity in his voice told you that Harry was telling the truth, and you knew him well enough that you believed him. You didn't know if it was just the heat of the moment for him, or if he'd secretly been harboring feelings, or if it was something else, and you couldn't even begin to untangle everything getting jumbled up in your heart.

But you could see the promise in Harry's eyes, the green in them clear as you had this conversation. The promise that he would make it worth your while, should you decide to go through with...whatever it was he was proposing.

Your apartment was so quiet, you swore you could hear his heartbeat thumping in time with yours. With shallow breath and shaking hands, you cupped his cheek. Your hand was rough with calluses, cuts, and scars from your time as a chef. Knife technique that developed over time and oil that bubbled a little too excitedly in the fryer; some of the pads of your fingers were even a little numb from touching hot food with your bare hands.

Harry didn't shy away from the roughness, though. Not as you caressed his cheekbone with your thumb and stood up from where you'd been perched on his lap. For a moment, his eyes left yours to gaze downward at what he thought was rejection, but when he heard the soft thud of you clothes hitting the floor, he looked up, drinking in every inch of skin you offered to him.

In just a pair of plain cotton underwear—the thick sheaths of your hair covering your chest and revealing only tiny glimpses of your skin and the tattoos inked on it—you picked up the bowl of melted chocolate off the table. Your eyes never once left his as you backed away toward your bedroom, an invitation held in them.

From the look on his face as he took in your near-nakedness, you thought Harry might've crawled. But, almost as if in a trance, he stood from his seat and followed you, taking your face in his hands and kissing you for all you were worth as he shut the door to your room with a definitive slam.

[savvytravelers]

Douro Valley Wine Tours

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From fascinating architecture to iconic World Heritage Sites and the art of viticulture, our Douro River cruises offer a glimpse into the very essence of Portugal. Traverse through charming cities and delve into their unique histories. Here are some of the highlights you can expect on our journeys:

Experience the timeless beauty of Salamanca, Spain

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Why Choose to Sail the Douro River with Savvy Travelers?

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The Douro River Valley, a UNESCO-designated region and the oldest demarcated wine region in the world, beckons with its historic wineries and picturesque quintas. Delight your senses with the region's famed Port wines, often referred to as "liquid gold," as you journey through this enchanting landscape. Experience exclusive tastings both on board and at local wineries, where you'll discover the true essence of Port Country.

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Treat your palate to the authentic flavors of Portugal with our exquisite onboard dining experiences and visits to local quintas. Indulge in traditional homemade Portuguese meals paired with local wines, such as Vinho Verde and Quinta da Avessada’s Moscatel, amidst idyllic countryside settings. Our culinary adventures promise to tantalize your taste buds and leave you craving for more.

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Enticing Douro:

3 nights in Lisbon, Portugal, followed by a 7-night roundtrip cruise from Porto, Portugal

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3 nights in Madrid, Spain, a 7-night cruise from Vega de Terrón, Spain, to Porto, Portugal, and 3 nights in Lisbon, Portugal (or reverse)

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Join us at Savvy Travelers for an unforgettable journey along the Douro River, where every moment promises to be a golden opportunity to create lasting memories!

[starlingflight]

A/N this is too long to count as a drabble but I have no self control.

Prompt: I20 — She went to the toilet and on her way back, opened the wrong door.

AO3 or read below:

“Did I mention it's infused with the natural rejuvenating properties of the spring?” Hermione asked for what must have been the fourth time since they'd begun the uncomfortably hot walk back from the ancient Grecian temple.

“Yes,” Fleur replied shortly. “You did.”

If Hermione heard her, she did an excellent job of not showing it as she continued. “It's said to have exceptionally powerful healing capabilities…”

Ginny stopped listening, letting Hermione's voice become a distant buzz which melded with the far-off rush of the sea sounding from the bottom of the cliff. Not for the first time, she wondered how exactly Ron and Harry had managed to get out of this particular excursion.

She kept her eyes focused on the villa, which finally came slowly into view ahead of her as Ginny tried very hard not to think about her dry throat, or the sticky sweat running down her back, or just how bloody warm it was.

It really shouldn't have been called a villa at all, in Ginny's opinion. The house – mansion – was huge, rising up against the dramatic backdrop of foliage-covered hills that lay behind it, shimmering like a brilliant white jewel in the blazing Greek sun as the three of them approached it.

Finally, they reached the whitewashed front steps. Ginny retained just enough self control to stop herself moaning in relief as they stepped through the rustic front door and into the blissfully cool air of the villa's lavish interior.

“I'm going to the bathroom,” she announced, cutting off Hermione's seemingly never ending lecture on the magical properties of ancient Greek amulets.

“I will get some wine,” Fleur said, her tone more like a command than a suggestion, but not one that Ginny currently felt inclined to argue with. “We will meet you by the pool.”

“I'm just going to put this in our room,” Hermione said, holding up the offending bronze amulet, which flashed eye-catchingly in the sunlight coming through the villa's many windows.

The three of them went their separate ways; Fleur headed straight ahead, towards the ridiculously opulent kitchen; Hermione turned left towards the wing – wing– that housed her and Ron's room for the week, and Ginny went right, hoping she could remember the route to the bathroom.

Upon locating it, Ginny went directly to the marble sink, set beneath a mirror which covered the whole wall, giving an excellent view of her red, and blotchy skin, and the way her hair, now damp with sweat, clung to her neck, hanging limply around her shoulders.

Desperately, she turned the shining golden tap, sighing in relief as a gush of cold water met the bare skin of her arm. She cupped her hands together, gathering pools of water and splashing it over her hot, irritated skin.

The relief, however, was fleeting, lasting mere seconds before the water evaporated and Ginny felt the closeness of the mid-afternoon heat surrounding her oppressively once more. Longingly, her mind filled with tempting images of the azure pool awaiting her outside.

She turned the tap again, ending the stream of cool water, before spinning on her heel intent on her new destination.

Her mind wasn't fully on the route to the bedroom that had been claimed by herself and Harry; Ginny was much too preoccupied fantasising about her plans to change into the smallest bikini that could still be considered acceptable for a family holiday, before sinking into the pool's inviting water for the rest of the afternoon.

It didn't become clear she'd chosen the wrong door until she'd already pushed it open and her lips had parted slightly in surprise at the scene that greeted her.

The room she’d entered was not their bedroom at all, but rather the small, richly decorated, library beside it, which she'd only bothered to enter once so far in the two days since they'd arrived in Crete, intent on finding a book for beside the pool. It was not, however, the shelves lined with books that captured Ginny's attention now, but rather the sight of Ron, who was balanced on one knee, holding a sparkling diamond ring aloft to Harry who was standing in front of him, one hand clasped in Ron's.

They both turned, evidently alerted to Ginny's presence by the creak of the door, identical looks of horror on their faces.

“Oh,” Ginny heard herself say.

“Ginny!” Ron hissed, dropping Harry's hand as though it was as burning hot as the sun outside.

“It's not what it looks like,” Harry added, nervously running his now-free hand through his hair.

The corners of Ginny's mouth twitched, her shock giving way to a great deal of amusement as she battled to keep her expression blank. “I'm so sorry to intrude.”

Harry shook his head vehemently. “You're not – obviously you're not – we were just –”

Ron shoved the delicate looking ring roughly back into his pocket as he stood, turning to her with panic in his eyes. “You weren't supposed to see–”

“It's alright,” Ginny assured, unable to stop her smirk from spreading across her face as they both rushed to give an explanation. “All I ever wanted was for the two of you to be happy – I'd assumed it would be with me and Hermione, but the heart wants what the heart wants, I suppose.”

“My heart doesn't–” Harry started.

“Don't be ridiculous!” Ron proclaimed at the same time.

“I'm not being ridiculous,” Ginny said through a laugh. “You know, Ron, when Mum taught us to share, I'm not sure spouses were what she had in mind.”

Ron surged forward, grabbing Ginny by the arm and pulling her into the room before kicking the door shut behind them. “Don't be so loud!”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “I don't think there’s much chance of Hermione hearing me from the other side of this ridiculously large house.”

Ron turned sharply to look at her. “Who said anything about Hermione?”

“Well, I'm assuming the ring’s for her,” Ginny countered reasonably. “...Unless you actually are planning on stealing my fiance, which would make the rest of this holiday very awkward.”

“Obviously it's for Hermione,” Harry confirmed quickly, shooting Ron a look that quite clearly said, 'help me out here.’

“Don't tell her,” Ron begged Ginny, ignoring Harry altogether. “I haven't figured out how to do it yet – Harry was helping me.”

Usually, having Ron at her mercy in such a manner would give Ginny an immense sense of satisfaction, on this occasion, however, she felt only a warm rush of affection for her brother and an uncharacteristic willingness to help, not that she would say as much to his face.

She crossed her arms, leaning back against the nearest bookshelf as she looked expectantly between Harry and Ron. “And what have you two Masters of Romance come up with so far?”

Harry frowned indignantly at her dry tone. “I got you to say yes, didn't I?”

Ginny shushed him with a wave of her hand, which incidentally bore the evidence of the truth of his argument in the form of a ruby and diamond engagement ring. “This isn't about us.”

She returned her attention to Ron, her eyebrows rising in silent question.

“Well,” he said weakly, the tips of his ears turning magnificently crimson. “I thought I could do it here – the island is nice – and I have the ring so the time seems right –”

“I told him not to overthink it,” Harry cut in, obviously pained by Ron's stuttered attempts at an explanation.

Ginny caught his eye and suddenly they were both grinning. “Was that before or after he got down on one knee for you?”

“Before,” Harry confirmed, unabashed now that the shock of being caught had worn off. “You interrupted the actual proposal… Ron's still waiting on my answer.”

Ginny shrugged unapologetically, her shoulder bumping against the leather-bound books behind her. “I can't say I'm sorry to have come in between the two of you.”

Harry sighed wistfully. “You never are.”

“You never want me to be.”

“Can you stop flirting for five minutes!” Ron snapped. “I'm trying to do something life changing here!”

Ginny dragged her eyes away from Harry's and back to Ron who was now leaning heavily against the antique sofa beside the window. “Harry's right, you're overthinking it. She was very charmed by the temple this morning– take her there at sunset and ask her.”

“Today?” Despite being on a Mediterranean island in the height of summer, Ron suddenly turned so pale it was hard to believe he'd ever seen the sun in his life. “You think I should ask her today?”

“Yes,” Ginny and Harry said in unison.

“You said yourself the time seems right,” Harry reminded him.

“Really, there's no time like the present,” Ginny concurred.

“But I don't know what to say,” Ron croaked, looking desperately between Ginny and Harry.

“‘Will you marry me?’ Is usually a good starting point,” Harry suggested.

Ginny hummed in agreement. “Yeah, that bit's quite key, I'd say.”

‘Will you marry me?’ Ron mouthed the words as though they were completely foreign to him. He suddenly bore a striking resemblance to his teenaged self in the run up to a Hogwarts Quidditch match, and for the first time since she'd entered the small library, Ginny felt as though she was intruding.

“I'm going to go,” she said gently, taking pity on Ron in the face of the enormous task ahead of him. “You two can keep practising.”

“You could stay?” Harry suggested. “We could probably use the help.”

Ginny shook her head, her part in this mission becoming clearer to her by the second. “I'm going to go and let Hermione talk my ear off about ancient Greek magic customs for the rest of the afternoon so she doesn't notice you're both missing.”

She and Harry shared a look of equal parts amusement and exasperation as Ginny took a step towards the door, both no doubt wondering which of them had the more challenging task ahead of them.

“I'll come and rescue you soon,” Harry assured her.

Ginny smirked at him as her hand found the door handle behind her. “Just promise me you'll try to resist Ron's charms.”

[queer-irritator]

Imagine Kratos discovers it's your Birthday...

Kratos finds out when your birthday is. He has fond memories of celebrating birthdays and other holidays as a child. It was perhaps the only time he was surrounded by joy and he had a break from spartan training.

You told Kratos to not make a big deal about your birthday. All you wanted was to spend time with him, Atreus and your friends, and share a meal together.

However, Kratos’ Greek hospitality and love for you would not allow him to settle for a small celebration. 

The weeks leading up to your birthday, he’d keep an eye out on his excursions to find gifts for you. Any artifacts, jewelry, or pottery he thought you would like got scooped up and taken back home.

He would also go out of his way to gather any supplies and ingredients he needed to give you a proper celebration.

One month before your birthday, Kratos had gotten some grapes, honey, and spices to make up a bottle of wine so it would be ready just in time for your birthday.

The night before your birthday he would sneak out of bed to bake you a classic honey cake, as tradition from his homeland. He would add something extra to make it special, maybe some nuts, fruit, or wine. Whatever he thought you would like the best. 

The morning of your birthday Kratos would enter the room the two of you shared, holding a cake with as many candles as years you’ve been alive, plus one. 

Kratos would tell you, “Χρόνια Πολλά, Ό,τι επιθυμείς” meaning Happy Birthday; that he wishes you many more years to celebrate, and that all your hopes and desires come true.

You would thank him and blow out your candles, wishing for every birthday to start out this way.

---

A/N: It’s my birthday today, so I did some online digging about how long birthdays have been celebrated and if the ancient greeks celebrated birthdays. I found out they probably would have, at least around the time Kratos was growing up, somewhere in early 500BCE. This is all just random internet searches, not meant to be taken too seriously of course. I found that they may have started to celebrate mortals birthdays (not just gods) at least around 200BCE. They would bake cakes in the shape of the moon and but candles on it and light them so it shone like the moon as well. This was used as an offer to the goddess Artemis, the goddess of childbirth. Apparently the Greeks were always known to throw good parties with lots of gifts, wine and cake, so let’s turn up.

[the-summ0ning]

Sleep Token HC: being in a relationship with IV

NSFW elements, mainly fluff there might be a part two to everyone’s at this point. Or if you have any requests for HCs feel free to send me a request bc I had so many thoughts for this one and my adhd bird brain can’t keep up. Also I can proofread this 1947372 times and it still might not be as proofread as I thought lmao 🤭

The man that IV is… broody but so babygirl coded

Definitely let’s you wear his jacket, prefers you to actually

Especially since he doesn’t give overtly public displays of affection

It’s his silent claim as if everyone backstage didn’t already know who you were primarily there for. He even considers getting another one just for you to wear when you joined him on tour

Update: he gives it to you on your birthday, nearly identical to his in your size (oversized if you preferred your clothes that way). Maybe instead just wear the big read circle w the ‘iiii’ in it had your initials (solely just so he wouldn’t confuse the two articles)

Let’s you romp around in his mask before shows when the guys are putting their paint on (honestly I think all the guys would at one point or another w their S/o—ivy just gets a bigger kick out of it).

The mask would even find its way into your bedroom, his stage persona following and you ate that shit up

Being putty in his hands when he’d get rough with you when he wore it

Most definitely fucking you from behind in front of a mirror, him gripping your hair to pull your head back just to make you look at him in the mask, his blue eyes intensely staring back at you

Or when you’d be riding him, grabbing it from the night stand and slipping it on. He’d lose his mind, groaning at the sight—drilling up into you feral for more

He has tons of photos of you in his mask and jacket, Adam even taking photos of you with the other band members in the items

Poor IV listens to the guys joke you would be a much better replacement, always grumbling a fuck off as you blow him a kiss, but as he leaves playfully moping he’ll make a gesture of catching the air kiss and smashing it to his cheek or lips.

Don’t forget the few of you in just the mask and jacket he’s taken (100% has it printed in his wallet or hidden behind his phone case)

Despite his more broodier/reserved nature, he loves showing you how much he cares with acts of service and quality time

If he has to wake up earlier than you, there’s always your favorite beverage to wake up with and pastry on your bedside

After a crazy night out despite how fucked up he is, he makes sure you’re okay and settled first. He’ll make sure the makeup remover is close at hand, even helping to take it off if needed. Making sure you’ve had a snack, and have water with an aspirin before bed.

It’s even more endearing when you hardly drink, and in his most inebriated state clamoring all over your house or room trying to take care of you. Still refusing to let you fuss over him

Sometimes during shows, you get anxious or overstimulated to feel comfortable to grab from the snack table backstage. So he’ll notice and stop what he’s doing without complaint, grabbing an assortment of your favorite things without asking. Handing it to you pressing an affectionate kiss to the top of your head, “just for you, love.” Then returning to what he was doing

Always going above and beyond to plan days with just you and him. At home, on tour—doesn’t matter he loves just spending time with his favorite person

Whether it be a crazy excursions/cute dates at the city the band was stopped at or laying in bed watching movies and eating tons of food

Admittedly he loved the slower lazy days sometimes more since it felt like his lifestyle was always non stop. Especially if it just involved tagging along with you for your everyday errands and then coming home to cook dinner together

Then at the end of the night after you two had a couple of glasses of wine, he’d spend hours worshipping your body

Just something about the slow and simple routine, made him want to take his time on you. All his movements intentional with the love and care

Hips lazily thrusting into you, brushing the hair out of your eyes. “Fuck,” he would hiss as you clenched around him. “That’s right, I got you.” Pressing his forehead to yours

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Prejudice & Pride

[A/N: Me: has a terrible interaction with a tech. Me immediately after escaping from said interaction: starts drafting Hotch feat. praise kink bc he Would Not Stand For This 🥺 It’s consequently more fluff than my other kinktober posts, pls indulge me]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gender neutral reader (praise kink)

🎃🖤🎃🖤🎃🖤🎃🖤🎃🖤

Aaron can’t help the smile that graces his face when he walks in to find his apartment smelling like your newest candle obsession, bought on a whim during a recent excursion to the mall because it sniffs like your cologne. He spots the key he had given you on the hook by the door, the smile on his face widening when he drops his own set of keys beside it. “Honey?” he calls out into the dimly lit space. “We caught a tailwind, so I’m back early.”

“Living room,” you answer, tone void of your usual excitement to have him home with you.

“Hey,” he croons upon entering the living room, noting a half-empty bottle of moscato on the table by the melting candle and your body bundled up on the couch. “Rough day?”

With a sniffle, you part with your wine glass and look up at him with a pout that tugs at his heartstrings. “Fucking shit day. I’m so happy you’re home,” you sigh, reaching your hands up toward him.

Aaron takes the hint, shedding his suit jacket and loosening his tie before lifting you into his arms and settling on the couch with you in his lap. His hands immediately go to work, one softly scratching along your spine, the other carding through your hair.

“Baby,” you whisper, tracing his lips with your index finger before pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I know you found the missing kiddos, but are you okay? Cases with kids are always hard on you.”

“Oh, angel,” he sighs, pausing his soothing patterns to give you an affectionate squeeze. “I’m glad they’re home safe with their parents.”

“You’re so good at what you do, Aaron,” you say, voice wavering with awe and a hint of sadness, if he’s not mistaken. “I’m so, so proud of you.”

He brushes a strand of hair off your forehead before tilting your chin up until your gaze meets his. “Did someone make you feel like you’re not?”

“See?” you ask, bottom lip trembling. “You’re a damn good profiler.”

“Tell me what happened.”

You launch into a blow by blow recounting of your no good, very bad day from only getting to down two sips of your coffee before being pulled into a case to working with a technician who made you feel downright incompetent. “-and the thing is, the thing is, I was alone in the OR with my patient- anesthetized okay?”

“I’m following,” Aaron says with a nod, swiping at the errant tears of frustration running down your heated cheeks.

“So clearly I know what I’m doing, right?”

“Of course you do,” he’s quick to affirm, lips tugging into a frown at the doubt blanketing your words.

“And he was fine. Stable throughout, no issues in recovery or anything. And she was kind of nice to me afterwards? I don’t know,” you sigh, voice dropping low while you distract yourself playing with his tie. “I just felt really stupid about every little decision I made. Maybe I’m not cut out for this field.”

“Excuse me?”

You balk at the subtle growl in Aaron’s voice, looking up at him meekly. “Aar, I-”

“I know you didn’t work your ass off to get into this program, spend sleepless days and nights studying, and rack up hours upon hours of experience at the hospital just to let one technician’s shitty attitude dissuade you from following your dreams.”

Overcome with emotion, tears pool in your eyes again and you shake your head at his much needed tough love.

“This-” He cups your face in his large hands before continuing, “This is your passion, baby. You were meant to do this, to help and heal those who need it most. And you are not going to let others’ bitterness stand in your way. Am I clear?”

Managing to muster up a smile, you nod and respond, “Clear, Unit Chief Hotchner, sir.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know you are. You have your Hotch frown on,” you tease, swiping your thumb across his downturned bottom lip.

His frown deepens at your playful ribbing, and he rises abruptly so that you’re forced to wrap your legs around his waist and cling to him while he strides purposefully down the hallway towards the master bedroom. “You don’t understand how serious I am about this,” he accuses, and you dot his neck with kisses while assuring, “No, no, I definitely do, and I appreciate you for it.”

“But your confidence is still shaken,” he intuits, and he can feel the sigh that rattles through you in response. “Well that simply won’t do, sweetheart.”

__________

“Say it,” Aaron growls out, a bead of sweat dripping from his forehead onto your flushed chest when his hips meet yours again.

You let out a pitiful moan, raking your nails down his back at the overwhelming sensation of fullness.

“Say. It.” He repeats the command, each word punctuated with a harsh thrust that has you seeing stars.

“I’m smart,” you rasp out, thighs quaking in their elevated position. Aaron has you nearly folded in half, knees practically pressed to your chest while he rails you like he can imbue confidence into you with his cock alone.

“And?” he prompts with another gasp-inducing drive of his hips.

“I’m good at what I do?” you offer quietly, somehow succeeding in looking sheepish while he splits you in half.

He pinches your nipple harshly and you cry out, now meeting his fiery gaze with one of your own. “Was that a question or a statement?”

“I’m good at what I do,” you amend, tugging on his hair as he fucks you without abandon.

“That’s it, baby,” he croons, bending down to swipe his lips across yours. You whimper into his mouth, the change in angle somehow helping him drive even deeper into your spent body. He nibbles on your bottom lip before pulling back with a satisfied grin. “You’re brilliant, aren’t you, my little doctor?” Tucking your chin between his thumb and index finger, he moves your head into a nod. “You’re only dumb when you’re drunk on my cock.”

A moan falls past your parted lips at that, and Aaron laughs low in his throat. “Poor thing,” he tuts, “I’m amazed you can string full sentences together right now.”

“Can’t,” you cry in response. “Need you. Need you to fill me up, Daddy, please.”

He takes your ankles in his hands and wraps your legs around his torso, stalling his movements with his hips flush to yours. “You want Daddy to be nice to you?”

Driving your heels into his lower back, you moan, “Oh god, yes.”

“Are you going to be nice to yourself, little one?” Desperate for release, you sniffle and nod diligently. Aaron sucks a bruising kiss into the sensitive skin at the junction of your neck and shoulder and growls out, “Promise?”

“Promise,” you answer immediately, breathless.

“Did so well for me, baby, so well,” he praises, his hand moving between your bodies to expertly take you over the edge, and you cling to him like your life depends on it as fireworks explode behind your closed eyelids. “My good little love. So smart, so beautiful, so perfect.”