#please I need them for my collection ma’am!

[kingofmyborrowedheart]

The only double album theory I care about is my very unrealistic one where she releases signed cds of Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) and 1989 (Taylor’s Version) together as a bundle.

[wonwussy]

Impatience Never Pays

pairing; mingyu x female reader

genre; SMUT SMUT SMUT

notes/warnings; MINORS DO NOT ENTER DO NOT PASS GO DO NOT COLLECT 200 GET THE FUCK OUT thank you; masturbation (f), restraints, whiny pathetic gyu, sub!gyu, domme!reader, pet names (pup/puppy), ma'am is used, does this count as cuckholding?, does it even count as exhibitionism or voyeurism?, i dunno i guess that's it

word count; 1.3k approx.

when inspiration hits outta nowhere, ya gotta take what you can and run with it. i wrote this in less time than it took for the entirety of the evita movie soundtrack to play. Thank you to @the-boy-meets-evil for reading it over for me! I like your brain. And you.

He had been impatient. Nearly begging all day for you, for your touch. You told him he had to wait. You were working, and that required your attention. Even warned him that if he didn’t, he’d be punished. Instead of listening, he sent you pictures. Showing you himself in various stages of undress, how hard you had made him at the mere thought of you, his fangs showing as smirked at you from his reflection. He knew what he was doing.

And now, as Mingyu sits up against the headboard, he knows he has to be punished for his actions. He watches you, nearly shaking with anticipation, as you cross over to the head of the bed. While the only thing he wears is his soft blue leather collar, you’re still fully dressed. His tongue swipes across his lips as you take his wrist, and hold it against the corner of the headboard, his eyes trained on your every move.

You don’t say anything as you tie his wrist to the corner, smirking crookedly as he tugs at the black silken rope. You round the bed to the other side, and repeat the action, before moving to stand at the foot of the bed. “Mingyu, what did I ask you to do today?” you ask finally, your fingers moving to the button on your pants.

His eyes are fixed on your hands, causing you to still them as you wait for his answer. He pulls in a slow breath and raises his gaze to your face, his cock twitching slightly against his thigh. “To be patient,” he replies quietly, fighting to keep his eyes from going back to your hands as they work your slacks down your legs.

You sigh as you kick your pants aside, tipping your head to the side. “All you had to do. Instead, you couldn’t wait.” You pause as you pull your shirt over your head and let it drop to the floor from your fingers. “Did you play with yourself too, little pup?” you ask him, almost mockingly as your bottom lip sticks out.

Mingyu’s bottom lip gets caught between his teeth, thinking for a split second to lie to you. Though, he knows you’ll know if he does, so he nods a little. “Yes. I couldn’t help it. I was so hard, and wanting you so badly. I just needed relief. I couldn’t wait for you to get home,” he confesses, and you can hear the slight whine in his voice.

You tsk as you unhook your bra and drop it, this time his eyes going straight to your chest as he admires you. You smile as you notice him doing so, reaching up to cup your breasts. “Poor puppy. Couldn’t keep his hands to himself, or from sending me such lewd pictures. Trying to tease me and work me up.” You pinch your nipples, before you smooth your hands over your stomach and to the waistband of your panties. “It worked, you know. My panties were soaked most of the afternoon,” you tell him as your panties slide down your legs.

He watches as you step out from them and climb onto the end of the bed, kneeling as you face him on the mattress. He tries not to look too pleased at your words, though you can see the pride there. His wrists pull gently at the ties, adjusting himself as his cock grows harder at the sight of you. “Baby, you had me worked up all day,” he replies.

You raise your eyebrows at him as you spread your knees a little, sitting back on your heels. “Baby? Now, little pup, that’s not how we address me, is it?”

His heart jumps, and he shakes his head. “No, ma’am. I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

You nod at him and smile. “That’s my puppy. Good boy,” you praise. You fall silent as you let your hands wander over your body, your eyes fixed on him watching you. Your mouth falls open slightly as your fingers find your clit, letting your fingertips brush it lightly.

Mingyu swallows as his eyes are trained on your hands, a quiet whimper escaping his lips. “Please, ma’am. Let me touch you,” he pleads, his hands squeezing into fists as he resists pulling the ties again.

You shake your head as one hand finds your breasts again, the other teasing your entrance. “No, little pup. Because you had some fun already, it’s my turn. You have to sit and watch me.” You breathe out a soft sigh as one of your fingers enters you. “It’s too bad. I really would have liked your fingers in me more.”

He groans loudly, his cock fully hard against him, and shifts again as he strains his wrists. “Oh god, ma’am. Please. Please let me help. I want to feel you,” he whines.

You don’t reply as you slip another finger inside yourself, your thumb brushing your clit lightly. Another smirk tugs at the corners of your lips as your fingers become soaked, the sound of your wetness filling the room. You can hear more whines pull from Mingyu at your actions, and it spurs you on more.

You shift a little so he can see your pussy better, watch you finger yourself closer to your orgasm. “Oh, Mingyu. I bet your cock would fill me up so much better than my fingers. Do you want to fill me up? Fuck me until you’ve got nothing left?” you ask, your fingers moving faster inside as you stroke yourself.

He nods furiously, wishing he could break the headboard to free himself. He wants to get to you, to fuck you into the mattress, fill you up like you want. “Please, baby. Please untie me so I can fuck you. I promise to be good. Let me fill you up, please. Fuck, baby. Please?” he begs as he watches you, licking his lips in hunger.

You let out a loud moan as he begs, your eyes finally closing as you can feel yourself reach your high. He whines as you pinch your nipple again, sending a shock through your body as your orgasm hits at the same time. Your moans are loud as you keep your fingers moving inside yourself, riding out the waves of your orgasm in front of him.

To him it seems like minutes as he watches you come down, your fingers finally slipping from you, pre-cum leaking from his tip against his thigh. “Fuck, baby. You’re so beautiful. That was… fuck,” he mutters through a groan.

You smirk as your eyes open and find him, looking almost pathetic as he aches to touch you. You let out a breath and crawl up the bed so you’re between his legs. You reach up to tuck one finger under his collar and tug him closer to you. “Do you want a taste?” you ask, your voice quiet.

He nods excitedly, his mouth dropping open almost obediently as he waits. He loves the taste of you, so if he can’t touch you, tasting you will be good enough right now.

You smirk as you bring your cum soaked fingers up to his lips, stopping just short before you put them against his tongue. You lean forward and whisper in his ear, your lips brushing against him. “Sorry. Only good puppies get treats.” You lean back and move off the bed, sucking your own fingers as you face him. “Naughty ones have to sit and think about what they did,��� you add as you step backwards towards the door. “I’m going to shower. I’ll be back when I’m finished.”

He blinks in surprise at your actions, watching in disbelief as you exit to the bathroom. It takes him a few seconds before he snaps out of it, furrowing his brow as he tugs against the ties again. “Wait, come back here!”

[ragingbookdragon]

Rudy pulled Alejandro aside before the team was about to depart. “Colonel, we need to talk.”

“Can it wait?” he asked.

“Alejandro,” Rudy said, voice lowering seriously. “I can’t get your wife to answer any texts.”

The Colonel’s eyes widened, and he started patting his own pockets for his cellphone, but he cursed himself, remembering he’d left it in the jeep before Graves had betrayed them. He strode to the table. “We have to put the plan on hold.”

The group looked at him, their expressions confused; Price stepped forward. “Why? What’s the matter?”

“My wife,” he replied. “Rudy cannot get her to answer. Something is wrong.”

“Perhaps she’s busy?” Soap offered.

“No,” Rudy said, shaking his head. “I’ve texted her over the span of the last few hours. Nothing.”

Price let out a sigh, looking to Ghost. “You?”

Ghost nodded. “I’ve met his wife. She’s needed here to run things smoothly. Losing her wouldn’t be wise.”

“Alright. All of you, pack up, move out.” He looked at Alejandro. “Where is she?”

“Home,” he replied, fear ebbing into his stomach. “She is home…alone.”

***

She opened the door to her home, gazing curiously at the armed guards outside in the dark. “Can I help you?”

“Missus Vargas?” one said. “You need to come with us. There’s been trouble at the base where your husband works.”

“Oh, God, what’s happened? Is my husband okay?” she worried, turning to grab her purse and jacket; she bent over, putting on her shoes.

“We’re not entirely sure, ma’am, but he told us to come collect you and bring you to safety.”

She started to open the door further when it suddenly hit her and she slowed to a halt, looking at them. “What’s the code-word?”

The two soldiers froze, sharing a quick glance between them. “Beg pardon?” one excused.

“The code-word,” she repeated, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. “My husband and I have a code-word. He would’ve shared it with you if he told you to come for me.”

“Mrs. Vargas,” the other sighed. “Please, time is of the essence.” He reached for her and she slapped his hand.

She stood there, staring at them. “My husband didn’t send you.”

“This doesn’t have to get ugly.”

“It will if you cross the threshold of my house. I would advise you to retreat before you make a mistake you can’t undo.”

The one soldier reached for his gun. “You have one last chance to come quietly.”

Her jaw clenched and she inhaled deeply. “Elegiste a la esposa del coronel equivocado.”

***

Alejandro was on the edge of his seat, hoping to not see fire in the distance as they came up over the hill before his home. What he hadn’t expected to see was one of the Shadow’s jeeps abandoned, and his wife sitting on the front step of their house, a haggard look on her face.

“Detén!” he yelled, and Gaz hit the brakes; they climbed out and Alejandro ran up to her. “Mi alma!” he froze, eyes wide in shock at the sight of slick crimson covering her face and body. “Qué te pasó?” he breathed, the fear in his stomach turning to straight ice.

She lazily looked up at him, pulling the cigarette from her mouth, puffing the smoke from her lungs; her free hand held up the whiskey bottle. “Drink?”

Alejandro bent down, feeling along her body. “Dónde estás herido?”

She tried to shrug off his hands. “I’m fine.”

“Dónde estás sangrando?”

“I’m not wounded.”

“Lo siento, debería haber estado aquí para protegerte. Lo sien—”

“Alejandro!” she yelled, and he fell silent, watching as she stared him down, put the butt of the cigarette in her mouth and warned, “It’s not my blood.”

His brows pinched in confusion. “Who’s bl—”

Ghost emerged from the house. Alejandro’s eyes zeroed in on the item he was holding, shock dripping from him like each droplet of scarlet that came from the metal baseball bat. “I think the Missus maintained a very good home defense.” He looked at Alejandro. “You might want to have professionals clean the brains out of the carpets.”

She stood up from the step, one hand holding the whiskey bottle, the other throwing the cigarette out to stomp its life out; she yanked the baseball bat out of Ghost’s hand and turned around, walking down the steps. “Take me to the bastard who brought enemies to my house. Tengo un regalo que me gustaría devolverle.”

She stood at the jeep door and Price asked, “What’s that?”

Tossing something his way, she muttered, “The nametags from their uniforms.”

“Where are their dog-tags?” Soap asked, and she gave him a dead-eyed stare.

“Los empujé por sus gargantas antes de golpearlos hasta la muerte.” She didn’t say anymore, climbing into the jeep.

Alejandro walked over to them, sparing a glance back to the house. “I…should call someone to clean this up.” he took Rudy’s phone and dialed a number, talking quietly to someone.

Soap looked at Rudy. “What did Missus Vargas say when I asked about their dog tags?”

Rudy frowned. “She shoved them down their throats before beating them to death.”

“Jesus fuck,” he said, glancing into the door to see her staring straight ahead. “Remind me not to get on her bad side.”

As they piled into the jeeps, Alejandro leaned into his wife, murmuring, "Mi alma, how did you know they were enemies?"

She breathed deeply and laid her head on his shoulder. "No me dijeron nuestra palabra clave. Sabía que no los enviaste para protegerme." Looking at him, she added, "Defendí nuestra casa, pero por favor, no me obliguen a hacerlo de nuevo."

Alejandro nodded. "Nunca más. Siempre estaré allí de ahora en adelante para asumir esa carga por ti."

[natashxromanovf]

Forever mine

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 1301

WARNINGS: slight fighting (verbal, very mild), mentions of food, one swear word

REQUESTED: {x} by @arkofblake

SUMMARY: Yours and JJ’s relationship, from the day you met to the present time and what you learnt about each other throughout those years.

A/N: Thank you for requesting this babes! I loved writing it so much, I hope you enjoy reading it as well <3

You vividly remember the first time your eyes laid on JJ Maybank. It was a sunny afternoon amid September, the weather surprisingly summer-like. Walking inside a restaurant, you were supposed to meet a friend of yours for brunch but she bailed on you at the last second, leaving you standing on the street all alone. You thought about going back to your dorm but decided otherwise. You were really hungry, already here and to be honest, you could use some peace and quiet to gather your thoughts. 

“What can I get for you?” a blonde boy questions you, giving you a warm smile. As you look up at him, the breath you were about to let out hitches in your throat and the words get stuck in your mouth. A moment passes by and you finally collect yourself again, already feeling the heat creep up your neck.  

“I’m sorry,” you laugh a bit, looking down at your hands. “Could I please get some pancakes with maple syrup?” you politely ask, returning him the smile. 

“Of course, ma’am, coming right up,” the guy says as he leaves, leaving you speechless. The blonde couldn’t have been much older than you, maybe a year or two but not more. And the fact that he’s really gorgeous didn’t slip past you either, because that is one of the finest men you have ever seen in your life. 

Before you know it he comes back with your food, placing a plate in front of you. You flinch a little when the plate collides with the table, as you aren’t aware of your surroundings. You quickly snap out of your thoughts though, as he starts speaking. 

“Can I get you anything else?” 

“Oh, no thank you, I think I got everything I need,” you reply, looking up at him once again. He nods and starts to walk away, as you gather the courage to do something the girl you were a week back would never do. “Except maybe,” you start, catching his attention once again. “What’s your name?”

He smirks before answering, letting you know that he was waiting for that question. “JJ,” he answers. “JJ Maybank.”

~

“What’re you thinking about there, babe?” JJ questions as he tucks your hair behind your ear, a gesture he learned you love very much. 

“About the day we met,” you honestly answer a small smile appearing on your face. 

“Oh, you mean about the day when you were literally at a loss for words when you first saw me?” he says cockily, earning a slight smack on the arm from you. 

The two of you were currently lying down on his couch, watching your favourite TV show, trying to unwind from your morning classes. “Do you remember the day when you first kissed me?” you ask, grinning wildly as the memory flashes across your mind.

“Of course I do,” JJ replies. “We were sitting on the beach in Outer Banks. It was the first time I took you there, to meet my best friends from high school. They all left and we were watching the sunset, it was particularly beautiful that day. You were talking about how much you like them all and I just decided right then and there that I wanna spend my whole life with you,” he finishes and you turn around, pressing a deep kiss against his lips. When you part you just stare at him for a few seconds, the biggest smile on your lips. He mirrors your expression, his fingers caressing your arm, barely touching you but still erupting goosebumps all over your body. 

“I love you,” you finally say, him returning the words. After that, you give him another pack and then you stand up, grabbing some clothes from the drawer in his bedroom. You stop for a second and realise you have your drawer at his place. You don’t know when it officially became your drawer, it just sort of happened. I mean, it was just a matter of time to be fair, you’re barely at your dorm anymore.

“Where are you going?” the blonde shouts from the living room, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

“To take a shower,” you exclaim, closing the drawer. “I’m meeting with Amanda later,” you remind him, blowing a little kiss at him before closing the bathroom door. 

~ 

“What’s going on?” asks JJ as he enters the apartment, placing his keys on the cupboard near the door. 

“Bills,” you simply answer, your face still scrunched with confusion and a bit of anger. This has been a repeating problem for the past few months, something the two of you can’t get rid of. The apartment lease has gotten higher just around the time you started having money problems and the stupid landlord won’t give you a few extra days to pay for the place. “I get my pay in a couple of days,” you state as a matter of fact, more to yourself than to the man now standing next to you.

“Yeah I know but that bitch downstairs just doesn’t wanna give us a day or two more,” he almost shouts, silently praying your downstairs neighbour heard that. 

“Jesus JJ you can’t just scream like that!” you suddenly snap, catching him by surprise. He takes a slight step back, trying to figure out what the problem is right now. He has done this multiple times already and you always laugh at it. 

“Y/N,...” he starts but you shush him with your hand, taking a breath.

“I just can’t deal with this right now,” you say, grabbing your car keys and throwing the door open. Once you're outside you stop for a second, taking a deep breath of fresh air, trying to stop the tears that will inevitably come. To your surprise JJ follows you downstairs, stopping just a step or two behind you.

“Y/N what is going on?” he finally asks, stepping just a bit closer. 

“I don’t know,” you honestly reply, the first tear starting to roll down your cheek. “I don’t know, J, nothing’s wrong, everything’s wrong,” you murmur, a sob escaping your lips.

“Hey, hey, darling, shhhh,” he says as he wraps you in a tight hug, making you press your head to his chest. “We’ll figure this out, I promise,” he swears, softly caressing your back. You finally let yourself breathe, really breathe and take a moment to relieve some of the stress that has been building up in you for weeks now. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you start, your voice a bit muffled by his shirt. “I had a terrible day at work today and college is just too much right now and my Mom just called me with another one of her problems and now I saw the bill and I just,” you ramble, meanwhile JJ comforts you in the best way he knows how. “I really need to take a break,” you finish, finally letting go of the blonde. As soon as you look up at him he presses a reassuring kiss to your forehead, the forgiveness for shouting at him hidden in that gesture. 

“I know Y/N, and I will make sure you get the rest you need. And remember, just because we fight doesn’t mean we won’t work things out. We’re not your parents, love,” he whispers, pulling another sob out of you but this time a sob of relief. 

“I know, J, I know. I guess I just need a reminder from time to time,” you smile up at him. He softly wipes away your tears and when he’s done, he guides your lips into a comforting kiss.

“Good. Because you’re the best thing that’s ever been mine,” he mutters, putting his hand around your shoulders, and guiding you back inside the apartment.

outer banks taglist: @hallecarey1 @lovelyjj @ilyjohnb

jj maybank: @velvetcloxds @tenaciousperfectionunknown

hope you enjoyed this! don’t forget to like, reblog and/or comment, it really helps writers with motivation <33

taglist form

[bemyawakening]

Omg yesss please more Alejandro! There isn't enough stories about him.

Task force 141 meeting Alejandro Vargas wife for first time.

I imagine her being a badass soldier and medic at same time. After they reclaim the base and gather up wounded she arrives and heals people and commands everybody and price or somebody asks if she is Alejandros 3rd in command or something and Alejandro is like no she is above me and introduces her as his wife and she meets the whole task force after she is done and thanks them for helping Alejandro and she scolds Alejandro because he made her worry but he only smiles and hugs her.

ALEJANDRO VARGAS X f!READER

Thank you so much for your request agh! I absolutely love Alejandro and I was definitely not licking my screen whenever he showed up on it. Somehow, I think a bad-ass wife would suit him so well, so here you go! if it’s horrible— I’m so sorry

pairing: Alejandro Vargas x f!reader (medic and soldier reader)

word count: 1994

           

Your bouncing leg was driving not only you but the two medics sitting in the same room insane. Where the fuck were they? Checking your wristwatch, you were sure you were going to have a heart attack in approximately five seconds, but you had to calm yourself – he always came back.

            The roaring vehicle from the outside alerted you and you sprang from your seat faster than lightning. You kept swearing to yourself that you’ll never ever let him get into another mission again and you’ll write him off any mission coming his way. You had the authority to do that.

            However, the distant yells fogged up her mind, letting her know that someone was badly injured—fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck… Two soldiers appeared, helping a wounded British soldier get inside of the medical room. You knew that the Special Forces from England united with the Mexican Special Forces for this mission and you did the right thing by coming to the base, in case help would be needed.

            The man was young and you immediately pointed at a free bed beside the door, watching the way the guys placed him down on the mattress. Walking closer, you pushed a little table with wheels closer to the bed, where the most important stuff was placed – you were prepared, and took a pair of fresh gloves: “Tell me.”

            Only then did you realise that one of the men standing beside you had a hairstyle of a Mohawk and it oddly suited him, but you couldn’t put attention on him for too long, since the man on the bed was clearly suffering.

            “Bullet wound. Lower thigh. Put on the tourniquet about-“ he looked at his watch, nodding, “one and a half hour ago.”

            Nodding, you cut the material of the man’s pants, not even bothered by the amount of dark blood that has drenched them. You had to deal with amputating limbs. This look like a bee sting. “Good news, soldier. You’ll live and you’ll walk.”

            “There’s nothing I want more,” the young man replied through his gritted teeth.

            Taking a needle, you took a little vial, sucking in the liquid through the needle, and flicking it to get rid of the air bubbles. While working, you informed, your voice collected and professional: “Get other wounded in here. The other medics will take care of them.”

            “Yes, ma’am,” the man with the Scottish accent and the Mohawk replied and he disappeared into the chaos, the other soldier following him.

            You’d be lying if your eyes didn’t drop on the door every five seconds. Where the fuck was he? Did something happen to him? No, you gripped yourself together. You had to tend to this soldier right now and then bring wrath once you see his face.

            “Local anaesthesia,” you informed. “Going to stop the bleeding, take the bullet out and stitch it all up.”

            The man nodded, placing his head down and embracing himself for pain. The local anaesthesia helped a lot to bring down the pain, but the discomfort of taking out the bullet was more sickening than painful.

            And you worked like a clock. The tourniquet has stopped the bleeding pretty well, meaning no major artery has been breached. Your eyes kept darting to the door, watching a few more soldiers getting taken in—no sign of him. It took some time to take out the bullet which was split into three parts—one of them nastily small. But the man was taking the pain like a champ and soon enough, you left him to rest with a set of stitches and a cold compress against his forehead.

            Taking off the bloody gloves, you sighed. The stress was making you feel tenser as you looked through the room, the other medics taking care of the other, not-so-badly wounded soldiers. A few soldiers of your own walked inside of the room and you invited them to come closer.

            “What the hell happened?”

            “They were ambushed—they successfully cleared out the base, but there were a few others hiding and it almost turned into a bloodbath,” a male, your sergeant, replied and you chewed on your bottom lip.

            “¡Buen trabajo!” You slightly tapped his shoulder, excusing him as you walked towards the main part of the base where some of them should be gathered.

            And then you saw him. With blood on his face. Fuck, he was hurt, he was hurt, he was hurt… The worry was making you feel rage. You completely ignored the other guys that were looking at you as if you were crazy, but you just made your way to him, watching the way his face lit up as he saw you.

            He knew he was in trouble. He knew how worried you always got when he didn’t come back right on time. And, he already knew what you were going to say—you were going to make him retire. But, God, did you look beautiful walking to him with that worried arch between your eyebrows? There was a bit of blood on your shirt, he knows you tended to someone and he didn’t want to bother you.

            God, he missed you so much.

            “Colonel,” your voice snapped him out of his trance, making him realise that he was in big trouble. You only called him by his rank when he was in the deep.

            “Mi amor,” he tried to soothe you down, knowing damn well what his voice and his words did to you. However this time it didn’t seem to be working.

            The worried sparkle in your eyes was making him feel guilty—he never intends to make you worry. He never intends to make you feel as if he would not come back. He’d always make his way back to you. Always.

            “¿Qué sucedió?” Your tone was rough and he deserved it, but he knew you weren’t actually mad. You were terrified for him.

            Instead of you pulling him into a hug as he has hoped for, you grasped his vest, took it off him and dropped it on the floor. You were inspecting him, seeing if there were any ripped or bloody parts in his attire, before your eyes raised to his head, at the top of his forehead, a bit to the right - there was a nasty wound that has already dried up.

            Your lips trembled.

            “You’re retiring! You better write your fucking resigning letter right now or I swear to fucking God, Alejandro, I will kick you out of the Special Forces myself!” Your voice raised and you meant every single word that has come out of your mouth. You were hitting his chest, not too hard, letting him know how much he has put you through misery.

            Alejandro couldn’t help but smile. He always found your worry sincere and heart-warming. He admired the way you didn’t care about making a scene and he knew well that you were about to drag his ass out of this base and not let him get in here anymore. You had the authority.

            “Tranquila, mi amor, tranquila,” his voice was soothing and he could see the welling tears in your eyes. He grabbed your hands that were having a brawl with his chest and softly squeezed them, pulling you closer. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

            You loathed the soft tone of his voice. You loathed how quickly it calmed you down. And you especially loathed the way you became a lump of jelly once his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a tight hug.

            Letting yourself breathe out with more ease, you closed your eyes, giving in to his warmth. His heartbeat was slightly faster, but it announced to you that he was alive. He was here. Your Alejandro was here, with you.

            Nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck, he inhaled your scent—home. He was home. He could feel the way your body was slowly relaxing and he realised that he would actually let you drop him out of the Special Forces. The thought about waking up every morning with you by his side, without the need to worry if both of you will make it back home… Little kids running around your home, cooking together… That was his dream. You were his dream.

            Pulling away, you placed your hands on his cheeks, the worried expression on your face not fading away. You inspected the wound—perhaps a few stitches will be necessary. He couldn’t help but admire you. There was something so soothing when you looked at him with that concerned look. He knew he was in good hands. Every touch of yours was so gentle and he cherished them all.

            “Didn’t think I’d see Alejandro getting his ass threatened,” the familiar Scottish accent made you both pull away from one another, but not too far. Alejandro couldn’t keep his hands off you.

            “Hermanos, this is my wife. Responsible for my early retirement,” Alejandro slightly pointed at you with his hand as you looked at the several men standing there.

            “It’s a pleasure,” the Scottish guy replied.

            “I was told that Captain Price will be also joining this mission,” you spoke, wondering which one of them you will have to cooperate with doing the paperwork.

            “It’s me, ma’am,” one of the guys took off his cap, showing his face as he was a bit older than everyone in the room with a beard.

            “Pleasure,” you nodded, diverting your attention to Rodolfo. “The same goes for you Rodolfo—say goodbye to this base.”

            “Teniente coronel,” Rodolfo winced.

            “Hold on!” The Scottish guy gasped, extending his arms in a dramatic motion. “Lieutenant Colonel? Your wife has a higher rank than you?”

            Alejandro nodded – he never had issues with you being with a high rank. On the contrary, he found it very pleasing that calling you formally would get you melting like a piece of chocolate on a sunny day.

            “Yes,” you nodded. It was normal for you to get this kind of reaction—there weren’t many women with your rank or higher. And you were still quite young, but ambitious to get this far. “Now, I’ll get back to all of you in quite some time before I solve some issues with my Colonel.”

            Grasping his arm, you were making your way back into the medical room. Alejandro was following you like a lost puppy, watching you the way you tried to stay angry.

            “Señora,” he stopped you as soon as both of you were in a bit more hidden corridor, sneaking his hands up your waist. “I know I made you worry-”

            “Alejandro,” you warned him with your rough tone. You had to stay strong. How many times have you melted into his touch without giving him a proper scolding?

            “Mi amor,” he whispered, that innocent, but a slightly cheeky smile on his face—damn it. “I will make it up to you.”

            Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms over your chest, but that didn’t stop him from pulling you as close as he could against him. “I’ll take that resignation letter as making up.”

            Chuckling, he placed his hands on your cheeks, feeling the warmth radiating from them. How much he loved when you looked at him with slightly flustered eyes—the things you were doing to him. Kissing his palm, you slightly shook your head: “I’m serious, Alejandro. You’re retiring on your own wish or I’ll kick you out myself. It was silly for me to keep you going on those missions. I want you in our house. I want you in the mornings. I want you beside me every night.”

            Feeling the seriousness of this situation, he was taken aback because he has wished the same things for both of you. He wanted to protect his people and he knew he wouldn’t be able to leave his job completely, but he’d try to be home more. For you.

            Pressing his lips to your forehead, he hummed against your skin, nudging his head down for his forehead to meet yours. “Fine,” he whispered. “Anything for you.”

[storieswithvenus]

I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense, but could I like request Spencer Reid x a bimbo! 2000s aesthetic reader? Like they’re such polar opposites but he’s just into her ya know?

I’ve just been craving it but I love the 2000s style like mcbling

Bookstore Conversations - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴

Hello! I absolutely love this idea, and could definitely see Spencer dating someone like that - so I hope I was able to put your idea into a decent enough story. Thank you for being my first requester! ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

Meeting you in that bookstore was the best thing that could have ever happened to Spencer, the way your smile lit the room up when you finally found the vintage Vogue magazine you were looking for - he would never forget.

As he studied your outfit (more like checking you out), he realised just how attractive you were - wearing your low rise jeans, a belly button piercing with a playboy bunny dangling just above the button of your jeans, the leopard print crop top that barely covered anything, the way your breasts sat in your shirt and how amazing they looked, the massive platform flip flops which raised your height around 2 inches. He was absolutely smitten, and definitely staring at your cleavage for a creepy amount of time.

That’s why he made it his mission to speak to you, adjusting his coat slightly to make sure he looked tidy enough and slightly brushing his hair with his fingers, he strutted over towards you. Making his way over to you, just before he was about to open his mouth to speak to you - you walked away from him. You left him absolutely dumbfounded, his eyes following you over to the sofa that was hidden away at the back of the bookstore.

Sighing slightly (trying to get over the pure embarrassment he felt having the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen walked away from him) and collecting his thoughts on how he was actually going to speak to you, he saw you slightly laughing at something in the magazine in your hand. Quickly walking over to the sofa where you sat, sitting down beside you taking a glimpse at what you were laughing at - shoes.

“Can you believe this? They picked pointed-toe boots, the cutest shoe, how stupid is that?” Your voice filled with anger as you looked at him and pointed towards the article. Staring at you completely shocked with your question with no answer, you huff slightly, “Please tell me you don’t wear these shoes”. Spencer’s jaw drops a little at your statement, does he really look as if he would wear that? “No, I don’t wear them”, he answers you in a slightly confused tone, finally you look at him and you finally realise who you are speaking to.

“Oh my god!! You’re a man?” your eyes widening and your voice filled with a high tone. Spencer chokes on his saliva a little, looking down at the clothing he is wearing and looking back up at you. “I thought you were a woman, you know with the hair?” You say trying to justify your original opinion on the boy, giving your hand out for him to shake. Spencer looks down at your hand before looking back up to your face to see it covered with a massive smile.

And in that moment, he knew he had to have you, the way your eyes closed slightly and the way your dimples were on full show. Placing his hand in yours to shake, “I’m Spencer, you?”. Shaking his hand (probably too aggressively), “Oh! I’m Y/N!”, your voice is full with joy as you still continue to shake his hand probably 10 seconds more than you should’ve needed to. Pulling your hand away from his, you stand up and grab the magazine before turning back to Spencer, “Would you like to come meet my dog?” Your question made him smile, standing up to follow behind you as you both made your way to the door of the bookstore.

“Excuse me! Ma’am, you have to pay for that magazine!” the owner of the store shouts after you. Immediately freezing in your spot, you turn back and run towards the counter, pulling out your credit card (which was weirdly in your shirt), and paying for the magazine.

Standing at the door, Spencer was just watching you with such admiration. He already knew that he had to ask you to be his girlfriend soon, and now that he was already going to meet your dog, now he just had to figure out a way to ask you out to dinner.

[theemporium]

this is literally just a random wee blurb for the inexperienced!pornstar!steve x experienced!pornstar!reader series because i just wanted an excuse to write them🤠anyways! enjoy! feel free to send more concepts i can work on after smutober!

masterlist

.

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease—”

“You’re such a pretty beggar for me, Stevie,” you cooed, your words dripping with that sweet, condescending tone that always made him squirm. 

His chest heaved. “I-I can’t—”

“You can. And you will.” There was no room for discussion. “Be a good boy for the camera. They wanna see my good boy come.” 

Steve was almost embarrassed to admit to you his complete lack of experience when it came to toys. Well, to be honest, he lacked experience in more factors than you’d expect for a pornstar with his following, but the toys shocked you. 

He wasn’t a complete idiot. He had watched other people use them on themselves. He had seen Eddie scroll through websites before purchasing them. Hell, Eddie had even shown Steve his collection a few times. 

But it never occurred to Steve that he could use them too. He didn’t even really think it was a guy thing until Eddie. And then after that, he just didn’t know where to even start. He didn’t think people would have been interested. 

A fact he would come to learn he was very, very wrong about. 

You had introduced a whole new world to him. And his audience loved it. They loved watching him whine and whimper at the end of the bed whilst you fucked yourself. They loved watching you slowly work him open with plugs and all sorts that he never dared to consider using on himself. They loved watching you tie him up with fluffy handcuffs and place a blindfold over him as you teased him with the wax candles you had ordered from a website Eddie had recommended. 

But he knew they would love this even more. 

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed out, his eyes glossy and wet with tears that streamed down his flushed cheeks, but you don’t think he had ever looked prettier. “I wanna be your good boy. Please let me be your good boy.”

His hands strained against the ropes tying him to the headboard as he watched you slowly crawl up the bed. He hated the distance you kept from him, from touching him like he so desperately wanted you too. He hated that instead of touching him, your fingers were wrapped around the little, black remote that had been the cause of all his pain and pleasure in the last forty minutes.

“You’re such a good boy for me, Steve,” you hummed, your eyes glancing down to his cock. He was hard—painfully hard—and his tip was red and swollen, leaking with need that only his release could give him. “Taking it all so well, baby, so fucking well.”

The buzz echoed through the bedroom, taunting and teasing him as your thumb hovered over the remote buttons. His hips bucked upwards as the buzzing suddenly increased, a choked out moan leaving his lips as he desperately sought his release. 

“Please,” he cried out, his voice cracking as his big, brown eyes looked at you, pleading. 

Your eyes glanced over to the camera set up in the corner of the room, standing proudly on the tripod with its red light blinking at you. You then turned to look down at the squirming boy beneath you, his abs softly clenching as he tried to fight the urge to buck his hips in the air aimlessly. 

“Do you think you deserve to come?” You asked him simply.

His lips parted, eyes darting over your face.

“It’s not a trick question, pretty boy,” you murmured with a smile on your lips. “Do you think you deserve to come?”

He gulped. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Your finger lightly traced along his jaw. “And where do you wanna come, baby?”

“Inside you,” he whimpered out, his head turning in a desperate attempt to seek out your touch a little longer. “Wanna fill you up. Please, let me fill you up. I’ve been so good, baby, so fucking good. Just wanna give you something too.”

You softly bit your lower lip, feeling the coil in the pit of your stomach tighten. “Yeah, pretty boy? You gonna fill me up all nice and good?”

“So good,” he whined. “Not gonna let a single drop spill. Promise.”

“How can I say no to that?” You murmured as you leaned down, your lips brushing against his as your thumb pressed down on the remote once again. “Just a little longer and then maybe you’ll get what you want, pretty boy.”

“But—” He was cut off by his own desperate cry.

“You said you weren’t gonna waste a drop, pretty boy. So don’t.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

.

[sweetnsour1]

9:36:09

Angsty Fluff, Bakugou x fem reader

Part 9 of the Broken Collection

“You probably still have time to order something online.” You laughed at the immediate soft snarl you received as a reply. “Not every gift purchase has to be a contest, ya know?” 

“Not a contest if I always give the best shit.” He continued to frown at the display in front of him, seemingly assigning blame to the assortment of objects not meeting his standards. 

“If you say so...” You walked past him, making sure to skirt around the bubble of personal space you had imagined to be there, to examine the wall of glass blown wind chimes. He clicked his tongue before diving into his reply.

“You fuckin’ love my gifts.” 

You didn’t turn back around, letting the statement fall without confirmation or denial. Instead, you let the silence build up a small wall between you. You ignored the way your shoulders tensed as you resisted the immediate catalog of presents now attempting to push their way through any other thoughts. He, of course, wasn’t wrong. Katsuki was an amazing chooser of gifts. Even the small random finds for no occasion at all were still some of your favorite things. Presents so perfect they had remained in your home even when Bakugou hadn’t. You weren’t able to move them, much less get rid of them. You never would. You really did ‘fuckin’ love’ his gifts. You swiped your finger against the paper laden strings in front of you, sending a wave of jingles throughout the store.  

“Excuse me, ma’am. Please don’t do that.” 

You snatched your hand back, now noticing a small sign with bold red letters reminding customers to restrain themselves from what you were getting scolded for now. Your face warmed as you apologized, but you still managed to direct a small kick to the shin of the snickering hero behind you. You spun around as soon as the clerk moved out of sight again. 

“It’s not that funny.” 

“It sure as hell is. You always get into some sort of trouble when we go out.” Your eyebrow arched at the phrasing. He coughed before adding, “uh, out shopping.” 

“So am I just here for comedic relief then? Thought you needed help picking out a gift for your mom.” 

He laughed again, stretching his arm over your shoulder and leaning toward the wall behind you. Too close. You turned your head as if to scan the back of the store for any missed items, ignoring the quickly changing proximity. His breath, which you definitely didn’t notice was cinnamon scented from the mints that were still apparently his favorite, brushed against your neck. You froze at the sound of a jingle and met the glare of the same clerk that had just reminded you of the rules.  

“Excuse me, sir. Please-” 

“Yea, yea. I know. We’ll take these.” He had already disentangled himself from your personal space, now holding two glass blown bell wind chimes. “That rule isn’t logical by the way. Unless you don’t actually want people to buy shit.”

“Of course, I can get those wrapped up.” The change in tone was obvious now that a purchase was eminent. Although the clerk ignored the advice, still moving with a swiftness to take the bells as if there really was some looming threat hiding behind the hands-off policy.  

“Are you sure?” The choice just seemed so random.

“Course. She’ll love ‘em.”  

“Um no offense, but why?” Your head tilted as he hesitated.

“I think they’ll be a sort of good luck charm for her.” His words came out slow and measured, the same way you had all been trained to talk to citizens you wanted to stay calm.

“I see.” You didn’t, but you chose to trust him and ignore how fucking weird he was being. “And you’re sure about the colors?” 

“Obviously. They wouldn’t work if they were different.” 

“I see.” You definitely didn’t, but at least he had dropped the crisis management voice.

You caught one more glimpse of glass as the clerk began closing the small wooden boxes. The first one, now hidden from view, had been a translucent grey, spotted with orange and black and a few green specks. The second...you frowned at the familiar colors. They were the same ones you were now expected to only wear five days a week. Your color palette.  

Your feet did not follow the path set by the hero you had been trailing all morning. They stayed firmly rooted as you blinked at the transaction’s completion. Why? Why was he doing this? Why was he like this? Why had so many small things stayed meaningful? Why did you have any meaning for him? For his family?  

Katsuki Never-Picks-The-Wrong-Gift Bakugou had chosen good luck tokens to give to his mother...one that clearly represented Dynamight and the other that suspiciously reflected your costume that his mother had helped design the last time you upgraded. His mother, who, yes had always loved and welcomed you, but shouldn’t care less about your safety after how you’d hurt her son.

You took a moment to berate yourself for questioning the character of a Bakugou. She would never wish for anything but safety for any hero. What was truly upsetting was you had never really let yourself stop to think how he had to tell them months ago. He had to explain to them what you had hardly been able to communicate to him when you left. What had he told them? The truth? That you were detrimental to each other. That it was your fault. That you chose this. That you hurt him. You had a horrible and quickly growing urge to cry. 

The pressure of the door handle against your back jolted you back into the space you were filling. You must’ve been slowly backing away towards the exit. Red eyes turned at the noise of the bell you brushed against as you gripped the means of escape. And, of course, you did what had become so natural when those eyes met yours. The motion came even more easily now that you risked tears visbily falling with every slow second that crawled by. The same action you took nearly a year ago. 

You fucking ran. 

Masterlist

Next part

[mynameismckenziemae]

Outlet for your frustration.

You had the worst day at work and need an outlet for your frustration.

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x you

Warnings: swearing, spanking, dom/sub dynamics, femdom, spanking, a sprinkle of ass play, humiliation, oral (both m and f receiving) smut. Let me know if I missed anything

———————————————————

This fic and everything I post is for 18+. MNDI. Do not repost my work without consent or steal my work. Reblogs/likes/comments would comments would make me happy, so please interact if you'd like (please be nice though, I’m sensitive haha). Blank/ageless blogs will be blocked.

A/N: So I don’t know what this is or what I’m doing. I’m not a writer. I’m not creative. This is literally the first thing I’ve written since high school and I’m in my 30s.

*Edited with Grammarly on 11/20/23.

The car ride is silent as you head home. You had the most frustrating day at work. Even the thought of turning music on overstimulates your fried brain.

Working in healthcare is difficult on a good day, but your specialty seems to get the brunt of crabby, rude patients.

You are the poster child of staying calm, cool, and collected—so much so that your coworkers don’t believe you’ve ever yelled or lost your temper. Jake’s friends adore his sweet, soft-spoken girlfriend. Jake himself hasn’t witnessed you be more than mildly disgruntled in the past 18 months of your relationship.

But today, you’d had enough. You just needed an outlet for all this frustration bubbling up inside.

___________________________________________

Closing the door with a sigh, you decide a shower to help ease some of the tension. Setting your bag down and toeing out of your shoes, you start stripping out of your scrubs on the way to the bedroom. You roll your eyes and smirk as you pick up one of Jake’s socks and his boxers.

 ___________________________________________

“You do know I’m not your maid, right?” I joke, bending over to pick up a pair of jeans he threw near (not in) the hamper.

A strong pair of arms wrap around my waist and there’s a hardness pressing into my ass.

“I know you’re not, I’m sorry. I always remember eventually, but you always pick it up before I get to it. I’ll do better” he murmurs, kissing my neck, “You would look damn good wearing one of those maid uniforms though”.

___________________________________________

A strangled, “Fuck” snaps you back to the present. Looking down at the sock in your hand, a wicked idea crosses your mind. You know just how to work through this frustration.

___________________________________________

 

You push open the bathroom door, with the sock still in hand. The sight in front of you sends a pulse of need straight between your legs. Jake is naked, wet and slowly stroking himself.

You clear your throat and he startles, his cheeks flushing pink at being caught in the act.

“Oh hey, you’re home. Sorry, I was—“ he starts.

“You dropped this" nodding to the sock, "and your boxers again. I had to pick them up...again. We talked about this just yesterday and you said you’d do better,” you say, dropping the sock and stepping into the shower behind him. You swat his hand away and take over, tightly gripping his hard-on, and giving him a slow stroke. “What do I have to do for you to remember, Jake?”

“Fuck sweetheart, you’re right. I’m sorry-“You put your finger to his lips to shush him.

“Do you remember what we talked about last week? About wanting me to take control sometimes? Rough you up a little?” You lean in to whisper in his ear while trailing the finger from his lips down his chest to pinch his nipple.

“Yessss” he groaned out, his cock twitching in your hand at your words.

“Yes, what?” You ask, pinching a little harder.

“Ma’am?” You nod. “Yes ma’am. Sorry ma’am” he says with a shudder.

“Mmm, good,” you say as you lean forward, sucking the abused nipple into your mouth.

“Fuuuuck” Jake groans again, his hand finding your ass to give it a squeeze.

You pull off his nipple with a pop and shake your head, grabbing his hand from your ass and putting at his side. “This is how it’s going to go. You don’t get to touch me unless I give you permission. You don’t get to touch yourself unless I give you permission. Now turn around and put your hands on the wall”.

Jake looks at you through hooded eyes, "Yes ma'am".

___________________________________________

He turns his back to you and puts his hands out in front of him; the water splashing onto the back of his neck. You snake a hand in front of him to flick the water off, then each of your hands grabs his ass, squeezing and kneading.

"Okay Jake, what's your safeword?"

"Rooster" Jake mutters after a beat.

You quirk your eyebrow at that; but choose to not press right now; tucking that information away to discuss at a later time.

"I think 10 for each item I picked up is fair, don't you?" You ask sweetly.

"10 wha-fuck!" Jake gasps as you deliver the first hit to the right cheek.

"Spanks, hits, strikes, licks…whatever you want to call them. 10 for the sock, 10 for the boxers. You're going to remember this every time you sit down tomorrow, Jake. Don't you have training all day tomorrow too? Your coworkers are going to see you squirm, trying to find a comfortable position. If only they knew it was because your girlfriend spanked you like a naughty, little boy." You say, landing a sharp slap to the left cheek.

"Oh God," Jake breathes out, cheeks clenching while his hips rock forward.

"That's two. You're going to count out loud for me. If you lose track, I'm going to start over. As many times as it takes. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, ma'am".

*Slap* Another sharp crack to his right cheek.

Jake groans out, "Three ma'am".

You give a couple more slaps, alternating each side. Jake keeps count like the good military boy he is; you can hear how wrecked he is with each blow.

After the fourteenth hit, your hand starts to sting, so you take a step back and admire your handiwork (pun intended).

You were already soaked from the sounds he was making and the increased desperation in his voice with each swat, but seeing how red he was getting was enough to make you throb.

"Oh, what a pretty sight you are. I wanna take a picture just to put it as my wallpaper. Maybe I should send it to everyone in your squad so they can see how pathetic you are standing there, bright red ass cheeks begging for more" you say as you squeeze his cheeks, feeling the warmth.

"No, please, no! I'll do anything. Please, ma'am!" Jake begs, hips rocking forward, looking for any type of friction.

Your hands travel from his ass to his hips, stopping his motion. Your right-hand shifts to grab ahold of his cock suddenly, giving him a few tugs easily from the copious amount of precum he’s leaking.

"I'm not sure this is a punishment seeing how hard you are. I guess I'm going to have to take it up a few notches." You say.

Jake's cock twitches at your words and he whimpers. Whimpers. You've never heard your tough, strong, military man whimper. Another strong wave of arousal pulses through you at the sound. You close your eyes as you kiss his back to compose yourself.

"Color?" You whisper.

"Green ma’am. So fucking green," says Jake.

You release him and stand to reach behind you to quietly grab the wooden bath brush.

“How many more, Jake?”

“Six ma’am.”

”Good boy,” you purr and you see a shiver roll through him.

You bring the bath brush down directly in the center of his right cheek. It makes the most satisfying crack.

Jake’s back arches and his hands tighten on the wall as he lets out a sinful, “Holy fuck”.

You give him a second to compose himself and clear your throat.

“Shit. Fifteen ma’am. Sorry ma’am.”

“I’m feeling generous since this is your first time. Don’t let it happen again.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The next stroke of the bath brush gets the left side and pulls another deep groan from Jake.

“Sixteen ma’am.”

The next two are slightly lower, directly on his sit spots. He’s definitely going to be reminded of this tomorrow every time he sits down. It sends a delicious thrill through you.

The following swing catches both cheeks. All the muscles in his back and ass tense as he’s fighting not to straighten and take his hands from the wall.

“Nineteen ma’am! Fuck! Wait, please…wait ma’am I’m close and I don’t want to cum yet. Please ma’am.” he whines.

You give him a moment to compose himself, watching him while running the fingers of your free hand through your arousal to circle your clit. His breath slows and he puts his arms back in front of him again.

"You ready?"

"Yes, ma'am".

The final spank hits him again in both sit spots and he cries out, hands slipping.

You drop the brush and kneel while turning him around. You close your eyes as you suck him down greedily, bringing the hand still covered in your arousal between his legs to press on his hole. He lets out a choked noise and his hands fly into your hair as he thrusts, once, twice, and empties down your throat.

You swallow and open your eyes to look up at him. He. Is. Wrecked. Tears are leaking out of glassy eyes, flushed face, and chest heaving.

"Are you okay? Was that too mu--"

"That was amazing, "Jake says against your lips as he lifts you to your feet and seats you on the shower bench behind you. "I've never cum that hard in my life. That was so hot. You're so hot. I've never seen you like that. So ruthless and cold and mean and hot. Fuck, that was hot."

You laugh as he kneels, throwing your legs over his shoulders, and dives in like a man starved, licking ruthlessly at your clit. You moan, grabbing at his hair and directing him exactly where you want him. You're so worked up from having him at your mercy that you're trembling through your orgasm in no time.

___________________________________________

You shower together after, and Jake asks about your day as he rubs your back and shoulders. You’re already feeling lighter by the time you get out.

As you're drying off, you snort as you catch a glimpse of Jake's bright red ass in the mirror. He turns to see what you're looking at and his gaze darkened as his cock twitches as he starts to harden again.

"You do realize I'm going to remember to put my clothes in the hamper now, but I might dump some out on the floor if this is what happens when you have to remind me," Jake says as he picks you up.

You laugh all the way to the bedroom, the frustration from the day completely forgotten.

 

___________________________________________

 The next day at training:

Jake did remember every time he sat down, he squirmed in his seat trying to get comfortable, and he spent the majority of the day with the sweet discomfort of arousal. Oddly enough, Rooster was the only one to notice.

[lincolndjarin]

Good Manners

main masterlist ✧ kinktober masterlist ✦

kinktober : day one - afab!agent!reader x dieter bravo

prompt : cock warming [ 18+ mdni ]

word count : 0.8k words

summary : dieter is a brat.

warnings, etc. : cock warming (obvi, but also like barely any LMAO), male masturbation, reader is described as wearing glasses and having manicured nails, sort of sub!dieter

a/n : happy first of october!! can't believe it's finally here!! so uhh if you saw that is was originally day two no you didn't lmao, i'm still editing a lot of them so they're likely to change in order lmao

“You whine too much.” You stare at him over the rim of your glasses that have slipped down your nose. 

“If I have to read one more fucking script I’m gonna lose it.” He throws the binder in his hands across the couch. 

Not a great sign considering he’s two scripts deep into a pile of well over a dozen. 

“Just a few more, then we can order food and take a break.” You’re shuffling through papers trying to sort out his contracts.

Not like he cared about the money.

He only did a movie if he liked the script. 

Which he hated reading. 

“Can you at least sit closer to me?” His voice shifts up a bit, he gets so nasally when he whines.

There’s a reason you’re on the other couch. 

 “If I sit closer you won’t get anything done.” You push your glasses up the bridge of your nose, shooting him a warning glare.

“I’m already not getting anything done.” He throws his head back, spreading out on the couch. 

“And who’s fault is that?”

“Just come sit with me.” He’s practically throwing a tantrum with the way he stomps his foot and crosses his arms in front of him. 

“Use your words Dieter, I know that’s not what you really want, I’m not giving it to you unless you ask properly.” You’ve told him this a hundred times already. 

“Come sit on my cock.” He grumbles almost petulantly. You tilt your head down staring at him over your glasses with your eyebrows raised expectantly, when you clear your throat he sits up a little straighter. “Please?”

“You need to work on your manners.” You look down at the spreadsheet you’re struggling to fill out. “Touch yourself, when I’m done with this I’ll deal with you.” You begin chewing the end of your pen as he lets out an obscenely loud moan. “What do we say, Dieter?”

“Thank you.” He’s already shoved his sweatpants halfway down his thighs.

“Thank you, what?” 

“Thank you ma’am.” You watch as he enthusiastically spits in his palm. 

“Mhmm.” You try your best to return to your work but he isn’t making it easy on you. 

Dieter Bravo, the actor that he is, always putting on a show. 

You know he’s trying to speed you up and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t working. Letting his head fall back with a moan straight out of a porno as he spits on his hand, reaching down to cup his balls before stroking himself languidly. 

After a few minutes of listening to him whine, you finally look up, watching him with an uninterested look as he thrusts his hips upwards, fucking his fist as he stares at you with wide pleading eyes. He fucking loves this. It’s his favorite game, over the years you were shocked to learn that Dieter Bravo, alleged lover of attention, got off on being ignored by you. Nothing made him harder than when you disregarded him. 

He lets out a familiar keen as you watch him, you bullshit your way through the rest of the form you’re working on, not looking up as you speak. 

“If you come I won’t touch you for a month.” It’s an empty threat but you know he’ll take it seriously. He squeezes the base of his cock with a groan, his chin falling forward to rest on his chest as he lets out a breathy whimper. 

You collect all of your papers, making your way across the room, and setting them down on the couch next to him.

“I expect you to read every single one of those Dieter, I mean it.” You slide your panties down your legs, stepping out of them before hiking up your pencil skirt and straddling his lap. 

“Yeah, of course-“ His voice trails off into a strangled cry as you waste no time and sink down onto his length. You close your eyes for a moment, relishing in the feeling of fullness as he squirms a bit beneath you, adjusting himself. 

“I mean it.” You compose yourself quickly, frowning as he rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, I know-” You grab him by the jaw, your manicured nails leaving little crescent marks on his chin. Once his attitude dwindles you release him. 

“You will sit still and you will read your scripts, you will not speak unless it is to tell me you are done and you will not touch me without permission. If you’re good I might let you come.” You click your pen to accentuate your point, already getting back to work as you start filling out another form against his shoulder. “Is that understood?” You don’t bother looking at him, you already know what expression you’ll see plastered on his face. 

“Yes.” He sounds awfully satisfied with himself. Now you turn to face him, setting the tip of the pen underneath his chin to make him meet your gaze. 

“Yes, what?” Just as you suspected, he’s grinning from ear to ear, his eyes half closed as he leans back with a pleased look on his face, picking up one of the unread binders. 

“Yes, ma’am.” His cock twitches eagerly inside of you the moment he says those words. 

“Good boy, now read your scripts Dieter.”

a/n : this had basically no cock warming in it bc i'm feeling silly w these prompts but whatever lmaoo. happy first of october !!

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

pls ma’am… may i have some more gaslamp!au? 🥹🫶🏻

"I don't know Stephanie this seems-"

"Please?" Stephanie pouted, "My stupid brother ruined you. It's the least I could do to get you some new dresses."

"You did find me a place to live and it's not as if I don't have things to wear," you point out.

"And some of them are lovely," Stephanie started, "But-"

"IF," Cassandra started slightly louder to cut her off before she could say something accidentally rude, "you don't let her she'll just have them made and they'll all be- well. Stephanie dresses."

"What's the matter with my dresses?" Stephanie asked archly.

"Nothing, dearest," Barbara said patiently, "except that they won't suit Y/N. Your coloring is different. And she's well- blessed- in ways that you aren't."

"So you see," Cass said, offering you a napkin to cough behind where you'd inhaled tea helpfully, "it really is for the best."

"I- I-" you break off, still sputtering and Barbara gets to her feet determinedly.

"Well," she declared, "if we're going out I'll have to send for a carriage. God knows we won't be carrying our own packages."

"And Tim," Cass said. "He needs to get out of the manor before the maids take to dusting him again."

"And Tim," Barbara amended, "he complains less anyway as long as we give him a book or two to read while he waits."

"What kind of book?" you ask curiously.

"Awful, boring things about math and chemistry," Stephanie sighed. "Honestly."

"Oh-"

"Dearest?" Barbara asked frowning, looking at you, halfway to the door, "What did happen to your books?"

"I- I don't know. I only- I'd imagine most of them were thrown away. Except for the ones I could carry with me. I didn't have many. I couldn't keep many after Papa died and I had to leave the house." Not for the first time, there's a hollow pang in your chest. You miss- you miss a lot of things. But sprawling on your belly in the drawing room while your father answered letters and reading out loud. The thought of your little collection being gone. After carefully carrying it from school to the attic. Hiding it from rambunctious hands and angry aunts. You can't stop the tears.

And you can't articulate why either. Not when it sounds so stupid to say out loud. You aren't a little girl. You're nearly on the shelf. Old enough that it shouldn't matter- but it does.

"Well that just won't do," Stephanie said. "Absolutely not."

"I don't- I'm sorry- I-"

"Hush," Cass said, handing you another napkin, coming to kneel next to your chair to pat your hand. "We'll get your books back- or at least. Jason will. Sometimes him looking big and scary can be good for something."

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Moschino and Muddy Water [Emily x Reader]

 Prompt: You offer unsolicited fashion advice to a total stranger in the dressing room; aka when you meet Emily Prentiss in the Moschino dressing room and give her some much-needed confidence… and maybe something more. 

Category: Fluff/Comfort 

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: This is yet another @imagining-in-the-margins prompt from her Meet Cute writing challenge. Thank you for all the inspiration! Please know that I don’t have Moschino money, so if my writing about the brand or experience of shopping there is off, that’s why. I’m just giving my best guess as to what it’s like to shop at a luxury store like that. Also, I don’t love the current Moschino collection, but they seem like clothes Emily would wear to me. This is the first time that I’ve written a story in the second person. Please let me know if you like this formatting more than the third-person formatting I’ve done in the past. I hope you enjoy this story, and if you do - comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated! 

P.S. The reader uses she/her pronouns

List with all stories 

_s/s_ = shoe size 

_d/s_ = dress size 

_f/c_ = favorite color

_b/t_ = body type 

_f/j/c_ = favorite jewel color 

_f/m/s_ = favorite mall store

_y/n_ = your name 

_f/s_ = favorite senator 

_f/a_ = favorite artist 

You had spent the morning window shopping at the outdoor  Historic Downton Shopping Mall. She was currently standing outside the Moschino storefront with its crisp glass exterior and metrosexual, jewel-toned fall collection on the mannequins. _y/n_ would never stop at such a high-end shop, but a pair of boots had caught your eye and you really, really like them. _y/n_ thought, ‘Oh god, why do you have to torture yourself like this?’ As you walked into the store to take a closer look at those shoes. You justified the choice by thinking that she would take a closer look at the boots so you could try and find a convincing and far cheaper dupe online. As soon as you walked into the store a sharply dressed sales assistant approached her and said, “Good morning, Miss. Can I grab you a glass of champagne while you are looking around?” You smiled and said, “Yes, please.” The assistant nodded and moved into a back room for a moment. You heard the pop of a cork. While the woman was away, you looked over the dresses and jackets in the women’s section. You like this season’s collection and found a dress that you thought you had seen one of her coworkers wearing. The sales assistant came back and handed you a champagne flute and asked, “Is there anything particular you’re looking for today? Any style or event you’d like to help you with?” Now that you had committed to the bit by accepting the champagne you realized you were going to have to play that you were going to buy something, even though you knew you weren't. You turned to the assistant and said, “Well the black boots in the window caught my eye. I’m also looking for a new jacket; something that can transition from day to night.” The woman nodded and said, “Great. What’s your shoe and dress size?” You replied, “I’m a _s/s_ and a _d/s_.” The woman nodded and said, “I’ll go in the back to get those shoes. Feel free to look around the jacket sections -- it’s on the far wall.” 

You did go look at the jackets, but not before looking at the price of the dress you had seen her co-worker in. The number on the label took your breath away and you wondered how your co-worker could possibly afford something so expensive? ‘Maybe she’s loaded?’ you thought. You stepped toward the jackets and pulled one from the rack. The quality of stitching and the material used was impeccable. You placed the piece back on the rack as a _f/c_ dress nearby caught your eye. It would be perfect for work. You looked at it longingly and hadn’t noticed the sales assistant had come back. You nearly jumped out of your skin when the woman said, “Ma’am.” You caught your breath and turned, trying to look composed. The assistant motioned for one of the plush chairs on the floor. As you sat, she took out the shoes. You tried them on; you were happy they weren’t that comfortable, because with how good they looked on you, you might be tempted to waste two months' salary and eat ramen for two weeks straight to get them. The sales assistant said, “Why don’t you walk around a bit and see if you like them. There’s a mirror on the other side of the wall so you can properly see them. I also saw you looking at that dress and jacket. I’ll grab them in your size and put them in a changing room for you.” You smiled and thanked her. As the woman moved to the racks, you did a few circuits of the store and looked at the shoes in the mirror. When you finished trying on the boots, you moved back to your old shoes and put them back on. You moved to the dressing room. It was lush and as a grandiose, over-the-top addition the hallway that was lined with changing rooms was essentially lit like a runway with two towering mirrors on either end of the hallway. Just before the changing rooms, there’s a seating area full of neutral-color plush sofas and chairs similar to those in the showroom. For a moment you thought they might be for the poor husbands who were dragged out shopping with their wives. However, after a second look, the space was far too feminine; you ascertained that this was for mothers and girlfriends to coo and make recommendations on the fit and look of the clothes to be soon bought and stuck in a closet somewhere potentially to be forgotten. A shot of jealousy shot up you for a moment before you took a breath and let it out. You may not have come from money, but you were happy. You had a job that fulfilled you and that’s all that mattered. 

Your thoughts were interrupted when the sales assistant called for you. You moved to the dressing room she had picked out for you. As you peered into the large space you noticed two things. The first was that the woman had brought your champagne glass into the changing room and topped it up. Secondly, she had brought more than the two pieces into the dressing room. From your count, there were at least ten items on the small personal rack in the ostentatious room. The saleswoman said, “I took the liberty to pull a few more pieces in your sizes that matched the description of day to night that you mentioned. I’m going to let you try these items on. If you need anything like a different size or a top-up for your champagne, just let me know. My name is Kirsten, so please let me know if you need anything.” Kirsten graciously moved out of the dressing room and closed the door behind her. There was a satisfying click as the door automatically locked behind her. You relaxed after letting out a breath that you hadn’t realized you were holding. The fact that Kristen hadn’t realized that you didn’t have any money to buy anything she had pulled for you was shocking, or maybe she was just taking pity on her and not making this a humiliating experience. Whatever the cause was, you took off your pants and shirt and tried on the first dress, the original one you had been eyeing. When you looked in the mirror it really wasn’t as pretty on you as you had anticipated. It looked great on the rack, but on your _b/t_ it wasn’t flattering. With that disappointment swept under the rug, you took off the dress and grabbed for the next garment because surely they couldn’t all look as bad as the first. 

As you slipped the second dress off the hanger you heard Kisten’s voice and a new voice a few feet from your dressing room. From what you could hear Kristen was talking to a regular. The jealousy swelled again, but you pushed it down again. The next two dresses were also flops and you started to try on the jackets Kirsten had picked for you, the new voice spoke. Whoever was in the changing room with you caught your interest. It was clear to you that whoever was speaking was on the phone. If you listened with concentration, you could hear some of the words being exchanged. Given this was such a stupid and surreal experience, why not listen to how ‘the other half lived?’ As you eavesdropped these were the snippets of conversation you heard: “Listen J.J. I’ve shopped here for years, but I don’t know about the Fall 23’ collection. If I buy these dresses and pants they will have to function for work and this date I’ve got coming up on Saturday… I can’t decide if this dress is tacky or chic” There was a long pause before the woman who was speaking said, “Okay, okay, fine, I’ll look in the big mirror if you insist.” You couldn’t help but leave your lush cubicle to see who this woman was and what someone who sounded like they had been a consistent customer for years looked like. You zipped up the hidden zipper of the _f/j/c/_ dress you were pretending to be trying on. After the zipper was up, you peeked out of the door to see the woman. She was still on the phone and hadn’t noticed you standing there yet. Your jaw almost dropped when you saw the woman. She was beautiful; the most attractive person she had seen in months. The maroon dress she wore hugged her body in the best possible way. Its plunging neckline showed her cleavage in a way that highlighted her form. Seeing her in that dress she realized who these clothes were made for. You could help yourself and you said aloud, “You look amazing.” At your comment the woman finally realized that she wasn’t alone and her eyes looked up to the mirror, locking onto yours. She turned and said, “Thank you. Do you really think so? I think the neckline might be a bit much” You smiled and nodded saying, “I think that dress was made for you. I couldn't help but overhear your comment on the phone and I don’t think it’s tacky at all. I would probably wear a cami under it at work, but other than that I don’t see any downsides.” The woman smiled and said, “Thank you. I needed to hear that. It’s been a rough week.” The woman took a moment to look you over, and you flushed as you felt her eyes quickly rake over you. She said, “You look great as well. That dress really suits you.” You beamed replying, “Thank you.” With slight hesitation and a bit of awkwardness, the conversation stopped and both women went back to their own stalls. 

You took off the dress and put it back on the hanger. As silly as it was, you didn’t want the woman she had complimented to see her walk out of the store empty-handed. You exited the dressing room and told the sales associate that none of the dresses or jackets had worked out, and she thanked her for her time and help. Outside the weather had turned cloudy and grey. It had been raining a lot that fall and it looked like the trend was going to continue today. You decided to go to a store you could afford. You looked around the racks of _f/m/s_ and picked out a suad purse. You moved to the front of the store and checked out. You spent some time just walking around appreciating the cool weather and people-watching. You remembered that you had a Starbucks gift card and decided to treat yourself. As you walked toward the coffee shop you heard a noise on the opposite side of the road in front of her. You looked over in that direction and found the woman from the dressing room. It seems that she had fallen for some reason. You became increasingly annoyed as a group of guys and a few women walked by and didn’t help her up. More infuriating was the fact that you could hear one of the men laugh, and you knew that if she could hear his nasal laugh the woman most certainly could. You quickly moved across the road, avoiding a slow-moving car, and knelt down near the woman offering her a hand. The woman took it with surprising strength and you leaned back to help her up. Not only had she fallen, but she had fallen in a puddle of muddy water, staining her crisp white shirt. As she helped the woman up, she said, “Thank you so much! You’re my savior.” You smiled and said, “I’m happy to help.” Once she was back on the sidewalk, you leaned down and got to her dropped shopping bag and purse from the puddle. You made sure the bag labeled Moschino didn’t have any water damage to the package. Thankfully whatever clothing the woman had bought was put in another box due to the quality of the product. You shook the bag slightly to remove any excess water. 

You noticed the reason for the woman’s fall was due to the fact that her right high heel had broken off. You couldn’t help but feel a bit of pity for this woman; she had said she had had a bad week, she had fallen and no one had helped her up, and now even her shoes were betraying her. Without even really thinking you said, “I was going to go grab a coffee and Starbucks, could I treat you to a drink? I’m_y/n_, by the way.” The woman looked at you and replied, “That sounds really nice actually. I’m Emily, Pretiss. It’s nice to meet you _y/n_.” You handed the Mischino bag back to Emily and you both moved down the street toward the Starbucks. As you were walking, Emily said, “You didn’t buy the dress from the dressing room? It looked so good on you?” You flushed but responded truthfully with, “I couldn’t afford the dress. I can barely afford Guess which is just a knock-off Prada.” Emily laughed at the last comment and you thought the sound of her laughing was the most beautiful thing you had heard all week. She replied, “Tell me about it. Why does shopping have to be so humiliating? First, you have to try on clothes and be disappointed when they don’t fit, and second, if they do fit, you can’t afford them! Certainly, men don’t have this type of problem while shopping.” You chuckled and said, “They most certainly don’t, but most men are wearing cargo shorts and Polo’s. A two-year-old could make the outfit.” You both burst into another fit of laughter. As you got to the Starbucks Emily opened the door for you. You both waited in line and as you got to the front you ordered your usual creme brulee latte with a shot of espresso and a pump of vanilla. You turned to Emily and asked, “What would you like?” She thought for a second before saying, “I’ll have a cold brew with sweet cream foam.” After you had paid you both found a quiet table in the corner of the store. 

As you sat across from each other you appreciated Emily’s face. You couldn’t stop thinking about how pretty she was. You were pulled from your thoughts when Emily said, “So, where do you work?” You replied I’m an intern for _f/s_ currently. How about you, Emily?” Emily replied, “I work for the F.B.I. actually. I’m a profiler?” At this, your eyes widened and you said, “Really? What’s that like; it must be dangerous I assume?” Emily nodded. She was looking at you and the way you were looking at her ignited a small warmth in the pit of her stomach. _y/n_ was looking at her with a kind and attentive gaze. Emily had been struggling with dating since she had joined the BAU and now, by fate or fortune, she was someone who seemed lovely. She was actually dreading her upcoming date, but didn’t want to cancel on the guy and have to explain that she wasn’t into him anymore. So she was going to savor this moment with _y/n_. She responded to the question saying, “It is. It is dangerous most of the time. But it has to be done you know. People deserve to live in a safe world. And that’s what I do.” There was a moment of silence after this before Emily continued, “So what’s an average weekend like for you apart from boosting my confidence by fifty percent?” As both Emily and you recognized how this feels like a first date this all felt. However, neither one minded, and you replied, “I like to sleep in if I can. Then get a workout in and answer some emails and after that, I’ll grab a coffee and do something fun if I have the energy. I have a penchant for used bookstores and vintage copies of Virginia Wolfe. In the evenings I like to listen to _f/a_ on vinyl while I unwind with a glass of wine. How about you?” Emily liked what had said and replied, “Oh my god, I love _f/a_! I was them in concert last year. I think I changed my life.” You smiled and said, “Lucky.” After finishing a sip of her cold brew, Emily said, “Well it depends if my team is on a case then I’m working, obviously, but if I’m free I like to get in a workout like Yoga or pilates. I cuddle my cat and spend time making a nice meal. I’m trying to see every art museum in the city, so if I can fit that in then I will. My job is pretty stressful, so relaxing stuff mostly.” You couldn’t help but think about Emily cuddling her cat, or maybe you were thinking of her cuddling you instead. Your face visibly reddened and you had to look away for a moment. You and Emily continued to chat as you finished your drinks and before you got up to go Emily went out on a limb and said, “Hey, _y/n_, would you like to do this for real sometime soon?” At hearing this the butterflies in your stomach fluttered up into your chest and you thought you might float up to the ceiling. You wanted to be sure you heard correctly and said, “This?” Now Emily flushed and she replied, “Would you go on a date with me? You seem really kind and I’d like to get to know you better.” You wanted to nod or scream with excitement, but something stopped you for a moment and asked, “What about your date on Thursday?” Emily shook her head and said, “I’ll cancel. He was rude in his messages with me and I was having doubts already.” You took in the information and nodded replying, “Then yes. I’d love to go on a date with you, Emily.” Emily’s face broke into a radiant smile and she said, “Great. What day works for you?”

As you planned the day and time for the date the chemistry was palpable between them. As they both walked to the door to go their separate ways, Emily held the door for you. Feel blossoming feelings Emily felt toward you surged as you turned away from her and she couldn’t stop herself from saying your name. You turned and there was a look of desire on Emily’s face. You stepped forward and whispered her name. Emily closed the gap between you. She took one of your hands and leaned down slowly. Slowly enough for you to say no if you wanted. But you didn’t want to say no. Instead, you raised up on your toes to meet her lips. They were as warm and soft as you had imagined. The scent of her light perfume overwhelmed you and you felt dizzy in an intoxicating sort of way. Emily was similarly reveling in your closeness. She lifted her hand and ran her thumb down your jawline. The kiss lingered, but it was polite and respectful and left room for more when the time was right for them both. As you parted for real this time as you walked toward the train you had never been so happy to have gone into that Moschino to look at shoes you couldn't buy in your life.

[nexility-sims]

𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡   |   BREIZH, ARMORICA 2008

❧  happy birthday, beloved friend @armoricaroyalty ! this post is so late, but it's done, and i'm happy to share it. i'll save the huge mushy note and just say i'm so grateful to have spent all this time building the best expanded crossover universe ever, to which "collabs" doesn't do justice—that, plus all the friendship stuff, too :^)

‎‎‎‎‎❛ Elise, in a restaurant she had never been to, wearing a dress she had never worn, waiting for someone she hadn’t seen in years, was uncomfortable. She maintained a good façade, however. Pretending her confidence was unshaken had become a skill. The doubt crept in as she pushed herself into ill-fitting molds—ones that, even after all this time, she couldn’t break herself enough to suit. At her best, she didn’t want to. The pressure got to her other times. She had felt it like an unwanted touch as she stood in front of a mirror and regarded the assistant who dressed her with wary eyes. Before instructing them to pull a dress to pair with heels and jewelry, she had swallowed her pride. She could imagine, even if she didn’t know what Leonor may wear to a luncheon, how it would feel to sit across from her. She wanted to be secure and able to enjoy herself, and the price was this particular kind of discomfort.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝 & 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

Yet, once they embraced and began to talk, it dissipated. They had both changed over the years, although Leonor especially. She wasn’t the round-faced young woman—just a girl, really, barely out of her teenage awkwardness—Elise remembered. Still, they were transported from their table for two and back to the summer house. Some of the memories were still fond ones. They had talked and laughed many times before, whether as they had breakfast in the kitchen or as they watched Roz carefully collect shells on the beach. Leonor remembered the good times, too. Though this was the first time she requested to meet, Elise had received bouquets on the occasions she was in Armorica, either on her own diplomatic business or accompanying her husband. She knew Elise liked white roses. The note, always a thick card from Breizh’s premier florist, would bear only a signature.

She hadn’t needed Leonor to say anything, but it meant something now that she did.

TRANSCRIPT:

{Indistinct conversation, light music}

[S] May I bring you something else while you wait, Your Majesty? [E] “Ma’am,” please. And, no, thank you. I think that’s her now.

[L] What a treat!

[E] How long has it been? Almost a decade? [L] Since the wedding.

[E] So, tell me everything. How are you? [L] {Exhales heavily}

[L] I haven’t slept more than five hours in as many years, and I can count the days off on my hands, but I love every minute of it.

[E] It must be interesting work then. [R] Rarely boring.

[E] I enjoy having so much time with my children, really, but … I do wish I had more time for the kinds of things you do. [L] “Armorica’s Mother of the Year, Every Year.” Modiste.

[E] Women can have it all now, can’t they? [L] They can. You can. You’re a queen, Elise. You can have whatever you want. [E] It’s not that simple.

[L] It is. [E] There are expectations, and other people are involved in— [L] I’m sorry, Elise, but I know you. You’re confident, capable, and very smart. You should be able to do more than tote around babies and smile for family photos. It’s their loss if you can’t.

[E] I knew what I signed up for when I married in. I’m happy. Do I wish I could do more interesting and important work? Well, not that the children aren’t interesting and important, but… [L] {Laughs} I know what you mean. And, you know—

[S] Ma’am? Your Highness? May I send your requests to the chef? [E] Oh … We didn’t even look at the menu! [S] It’s prix fixe today, but I have been instructed to assure you we can prepare anything you desire, within reason.

[E] I’ll have what she’s having. [L] {Chuckles} To start, have Abelardo make us turkey stew. He’ll know which. [S] | I’ll tell him, Your Highness.

[E] Now, I have to ask: how is it, having your own little one? She’s getting big now, right? What’s she like? [L] {Laughs} She’s five—what is there to say?

[L] I stopped taking to her to work when the breastfeeding stopped … Three years ago? Dan and I try, but I’ve heard her call the nanny “mama” by accident more than I care to admit. We went to a dance recital before the trip. She already works so hard. It’s precious. [E] Precious is right! Sounds like she takes after her mother.

[E] I remember when mine were that age. You know what Rosalind was like! Freddy? Completely different, and Jacques—

{Elise continues talking}

{Elise, talking}

[E] —and, of course, Roz being Roz, she told Freddy— [L] I have a proposal for you.

[L] Dan and I were considering inviting you and Andre to dinner sometime this week. Do you think he would be interested? [E] Um—dinner? [L] I’d like to invite Roz, too.

[E] Well, I’m not sure. It is last minute, and they both have such full schedules all the time. I could suggest it to him and see, but— [L] Elise, it’s fine.

[L] It was an idea. I can see them another time. I’m just pleased that you were available so last minute. [E] I’m glad, too.

[L] I mean it, really. We haven’t had a proper conversation in a very long time, and I’m grateful you wanted to spend time with me. [E] Thank you for asking me out. Usually it’s just the flowers.

[L] I respect and care for you, Elise. [E] That’s very sweet … [L] I always have, and I always will. I didn’t always show it—quite the opposite—but it’s important to me that you know that.

[E] I believe you. I do.

[L] Oh, do you smell that? Chili, achiote … [E] Sounds spicy. [L] {Snickers}

[L] I had an idea while we were splitting that poached pear. [E] Did you? [L] An interesting and important opportunity for you. [E] Leonor… [L] | Leave it all to me. I insist.

[E] Thank you. [L] My pleasure.

[rythasbrenelle]

Prompt #4: Reticent

On most days, Locke liked birds more than people. They talked a little bit, each inquiry and answer a slightly different kweh, just enough to qualify as company. But they never pressed him. If all he had to contribute to the conversation was a sniffle or a grunt, chocobos didn’t mind. A meal of greens, a bit of preening, a few encouraging pats, and they were set.

Ideal traveling companions, chocobos.

After three days of the same tall tale being shared in the inn as Locke and Sosonado waited for the storm to pass and the roads to clear, such that every other patron was thoroughly sick of the story by the time they could resume their travels, Locke desperately wished his client was more like a chocobo. “I daresay they’ll be spreading tales of your derring-do across Coerthas now, lad!” Sosonado crawled out from the back of the wagon, his cargo inspection completed, and hopped up onto his seat. “A gunslinger with hair like fire! A swordsman with no need for swords!” Locke’s gaze flicked down to where his swords rested against his leg, propped up in the floor of the box seat. The ornate handle of the gunblade wasn’t far from his fingers, just in case trouble found them on the road again. Though after Sosonado’s yarn, Locke had half a mind to let trouble succeed next time. “Please wait, gentlemen!” a clear voice called out. Locke turned in his seat, a tall ear swiveled in the voice’s direction before his eyes found the source. The bartender who’d been working the night he arrived in the Observatorium made her way across the yard, taking care to step around the hardy greens peeking through the snow.

“Is there something we can help you with, ma’am?” Sosonado asked. “The opposite. I was hoping to help the two of you.” She produced a pair of red crystals from her tunic and dropped them into Sosonado’s arms, too large for his hands as they were. “It’s not much, but perhaps they’ll keep you warm. Be it on the road or in a snowstorm, should more heroics be required.” Sosonado looked to Locke with a grin bright as the sun and set one of the crystals in his waiting hand, warm even through his glove. Locke found himself caught between rolling his eyes and giving the bartender an earnest thanks. He settled for a curt nod.

But Sosonado had no such issues speaking. “My deepest thanks! I have many things in my wagon, but crystals are unfortunately not one of them, useful though they’d be. I’ll treasure it. As will my companion here.” He looked at Locke meaningfully, but the bartender shook her head.

“No, no, it’s quite alright. He already paid for his, yeah? He needn’t thank me.” She flashed easy smiles at both of them. “Safe travels. I hope the Holy See proves lucrative.” “As do I,” Sosonado agreed, lowering his head. The bartender began to make her way back to the inn, and Sosonado collected the reins. He snapped them once, called to the chocobos, and the wagon lurched into motion. Travel was far from smooth, snow and ice still abundant along the road, but the birds were well-rested and well-trained. They avoided the worst of it where they could.

“Kind of her,” Sosonado said, dark eyes forward. “On my behalf, at any rate. She said you paid?”

Locke shrugged a shoulder. His hand lingered near his gunblade still, though he’d have liked to keep it on the crystal in his pocket, emanating its gentle warmth. “I suppose we did buy more than our share of bread, soup, and drinks. You especially. How do you eat so much, where do you put it all?”

A cant of his head. Fighting, traveling, existing, Locke supposed. He communicated this with several taps of his claws against his sword.

If Sosonado gleaned meaning from the gesture, he didn’t show it, though his eyes did follow Locke’s claws and settle on the sword. “I have been meaning to ask. That gunblade of yours is an imperial piece, isn’t it? As is your firearm. Quite ostentatious, the pair of them. Did you serve?” Locke opened his mouth. Words were hard, sometimes. They liked to get caught in his throat. But these came easily enough, even if it took a moment. “Not them.” Sosonado nodded. “Just as well. Wearing them as prominently as you do, they might draw trouble in places where folk have more of a, uh, predisposition against the empire. But you probably already know that.”

Locke hummed a confirmation but didn’t elaborate further. And for a while, that seemed to be enough conversation. Sosonado’s attention returned wholly to the road, and Locke slouched in his seat and rested his eyes. He was roused only when they arrived at Camp Dragonhead, where they made a brief stop and Sosonado declared he needed to stretch his legs.

While he was gone, Locke tended to the chocobos, unhitching them from the wagon and allowing them to rest properly while he fetched their water. The chore earned him a peck, which he excused as an accident, and a beak rubbing, which he answered with preening. He was mostly silent throughout the task, save for the occasional word of praise for whichever bird was cooperating with him at the moment.

Sosonado returned after a short while, a parcel tucked under his arm. It wasn’t until the chocobos were hitched again and the wagon was lurching forward that Sosonado dropped the package into Locke’s lap; he twitched in response, straightening and reaching for his gunblade. As his eyes settled on the coarse wrapping, he relaxed again and looked at Sosonado, a question written on his face.

“It’s merely some salted eft. Consider it a tip.” Before Locke could speak up, Sosonado waved a hand dismissively. “You’ll be compensated monetarily as well, don’t you worry. All we agreed upon and then some. Your apparent laziness aside, you’ve done your job well.”

Locke unwrapped the parcel and found a pile of dried meat there. The smell of it immediately got him salivating. He pinched a strip of it between his claws and popped it into his mouth, the salty and woody and, oh, citrusy flavors sharp on his tongue.

“Thanks,” he said. It came out garbled and unclear and a bit wet, on account of the drooling. He swiped the back of his hand across his mouth, wiping it clean.

“Don’t mention it. Really. Don’t.”

More than happy to comply, Locke let the chocobos’ footfalls, the wagon’s creaking, and his chewing fill the silence for the remainder of their journey to the Holy See of Ishgard.

[roanofarcc]

PROJECT SUNSHINE CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN → MYSTERY INC.

summary: steve harrington x oc

when another product of Hawkins National Laboratory escaped a long-survived nightmare alongside her sister, she crashed into one unsuspecting teenage boy and dragged him deeper into the dark mysteries that made up their hometown.

word count. 1.7k || masterlist

warnings: cannon typical violence, child abuse, horror, gore, and depictions of mental illness. parts of this story were written pre-season 4 release. cannon divergence.

previous chapter ← → next chapter

Calum Miller stepped out of his best friend’s car and stretched his limbs. The winter air assaulted his face, and his old shoes squished in a pile of slush left on the curb. He cringed as his socks became wet and jumped onto the sidewalk. 

“She was cute, Mara,” he said, continuing their conversation from the car. “Can’t you let a man wingman?” 

With a roll of her eyes, Tamera slung her overnight bag over her shoulder. “Please, she was checking you out, not me.” 

“Whatever, she was dud anyways.” They both knew that wasn’t entirely true. The girl who worked weekends at the movie theater was cute, but she was more Tamera’s type than his. “We’ll find you someone who doesn’t over-salt popcorn, don’t you worry.” 

She laughed but cut herself off when her attention fell behind Calum, where his house sat. “Does your mom have company over?” Calum spun around quickly, nearly slipping on the icy sidewalk, and saw a series of shadowy figures that stood in the living room window. Calum couldn’t remember the last time his mother invited someone over, especially since his dad disappeared. 

“I don’t-” 

His mother’s silhouette threw her arms up in the air wildly. She yelled loud enough for Calum and Tamera to hear her outside and down the driveway. “Get out!” 

Worry flooded Calum’s chest and he raced inside with Tamera hot on his heels. The door was unlocked, and he threw it open with enough force that the doorknob on the inside smacked against the wall hard enough to leave a scuff in the paint. A series of strangers stood in his living room. Two tall men with their hands paused mid-reach into the inside of their coats, dressed in black suits. A shorter man stood closest to Calum’s mother, who looked a little less threatening in a blue sweater and a khaki-colored coat that almost reached the floor. 

“What’s going on?” Calum asked. 

Shannon Miller looked on the verge of angry tears as she glared at the shorter man. “You really want to do this in front of my son?” A nearly empty bottle of wine was clutched in her hands and her words came out a little slurred. 

The shorter man sighed and said, “Ma’am, please. I just want to have a conversation with you.” 

Tamera stood beside Calum with a stony expression as her gaze flickered between the men like she was studying them. “Who are you?” 

The shorter man extended his hand to Calum first, then Tamera. “I’m Dr. Owens. My friends here and I came to collect some old papers from your father’s office.” 

At the mention of his dad, Calum felt a surge of hope spring through him. “My dad? Do you know where he is?” His hope was very quickly squished by the frown on Dr. Owen’s face, and the shake of the man’s head. 

“No, son, I’m afraid I don’t. That’s why I’m here. He has a file here that we need to take back. I have a warrant to search his office.” He paused, flashing a piece of paper full of legal jargon that Calum didn’t understand. “Now, I understand he didn’t leave on the best of terms-” 

Calum’s mom laughed dryly. She clutched her wine bottle to her chest and made no effort to wipe the runny makeup on her cheeks. Calum hadn’t seen his mom in that state for some time. Normally, when Calum came home, she was already passed out or locked in her room. Maybe that part of her he was missing; he didn’t like it. He needed his dad back to fix it and make their family whole again. 

“He left because of you!” she yelled, swaying forward before Tamera caught her arm. More tears welled up in her eyes as confusion grew inside Calum. 

Dr. Owens shook his head once more. “I didn’t know your husband. I’ve never met him. And, if I did know about his whereabouts, I wouldn’t be here asking you for help.” He turned to Calum. “I am going search his office and get what I need. But I would prefer to do that with your cooperation.” 

It wasn’t like he could say no. Maybe whatever he needed was the key to finding his dad. “His office is down the hall, the last door on the left. But can I ask what you’re looking for, exactly?”

“I’m afraid I can’t disclose that information. But what I can tell you is that he was working on something very important and sensitive.” The man hobbled toward Calum, avoiding putting weight on one of his legs. He placed a warm hand on Calum’s shoulder and a scarily serious expression befell his face. “If there is anything you know about where your father might be, I need you to tell me.” 

Calum wished he did. “I don’t know anything.” 

“All right. Then, if you’ll excuse me, we’ll only be a moment.” The three of them disappeared into the home office. 

Calum turned his attention to his mom, who fell back onto the couch and muttered something under her breath over and over. “Mom, what aren’t you telling me about dad?” What could warrant someone with a warrant coming into their house? 

“He was a bastard,” Shannon whispered. “He was a bastard, but he wasn’t a monster.” 

“Why would anyone think that?” Tamera asked, but Calum’s mom said nothing. She just shook her head and finished off her bottle of wine. The three stood in silence as they waited for the men to finish searching. 

What could his dad have brought home that would be of such importance? Calum knew his dad worked for the government, but he never said much beyond that about his job. If his father was working on something, some file…oh. Oh, shit. Calum bit down on his lip to keep himself quiet. 

Oh, he was in trouble. 

A couple, of agonizing minutes later, Dr. Owens and the other men exited the office with a single box of papers. With a tight-lipped smile, Dr. Owens said, “Sorry for bothering you all. Have a nice night.” And then they left, just like that, with no further explanation. 

Once the door was closed and their car pulled disappeared into the night, Calum looked to his best friend with the calmest expression he could muster under his growing panic. “Mara, come with me.” He didn’t wait for her to answer before he took off down the hall and into his bedroom. He made a beeline straight for his closet and dug through his highest shelf frantically. 

“What the hell are you doin’? Are we not gonna talk about that dude? Or your mom’s freak out? What do you think they want from your dad?” 

Calum’s fingers touched a smooth stack of folders, and he quickly pulled them down and brought them to his bed. He searched through them until he found one that was thicker than the rest and held it up. “This, I think.” 

It took Tamera a moment to understand what he was saying, but when she did, her hand covered her mouth to muffle a surprised gasp. “Calum!” 

He cut her off and took a seat on the bed, letting the unopened folder fall to his lap. “Hush! Listen to me. When my dad was still here, I would go into his office all of the time and borrow office supplies for school. I needed some folders for class, so I took a couple I found in a drawer of his desk. I used a couple and left the rest in my closet until I needed them again. I thought they all were empty, but when I was cleaning out my closet a few weeks ago, I looked at them again and realized one was bigger than the rest. So, I opened it. There were some fancy-looking documents inside that I didn’t read. I figured it was old paperwork or something. I don’t know! But the more I think about it…I have a feeling it might be what those dudes were looking for.” 

He took a breath, drumming his fingers against the folder. “But the more I thought about the file, the more I wondered…I just had a weird feeling about it. I don’t know how to explain it. So, I flipped through a couple of pages of what looked like nonsense until I saw a page that had ‘classified’ written in huge letters across it. So, I stopped.” 

Tamera rubbed her temples like all of the information was painfully entering her brain. He didn’t blame her; he was feeling the stress pulse behind his eyes. “And you think that file is why those dudes were here?” 

He shrugged. “Maybe. It makes sense. Though, I don’t know how many classified documents my dad was hiding in his office."

There was a long pause, neither one of them quite sure of their next move. Calum had a feeling Tamera was going to tell him to call Dr. Owens back and hand the file over. That would be the right thing to do, maybe, but what if they thought Calum was somehow an accomplice or was trying to without evidence? He didn’t need any more trouble.

Much to his surprise, Tamera did the opposite of that. “Open it,” she said. 

“What? Open it? Mara, there could be anything in here. We could get in, like, a shit-ton of trouble.” 

She scoffed. “Oh, so now you’re worried about getting in trouble? This could be why your dad went missing. Whatever’s in the file could…” she trailed off, holding her head in her hands. “God, I can’t believe you sucked me into your bullshit investigation.” 

“You think so?” 

“I don’t know. But there’s only one way to find out.” 

Calum hesitated, wondering if he should protest, but his curiosity got the best of him. He held his breath and flipped open the file, right past the ‘classified’ page. 

Project 19-15-12-1-18

“Random numbers?” Tamera asked. 

“Unlikely. It’s probably code for something.” He continued to flip, but quickly realized most of the information was redacted. Whatever was in the file, someone didn’t want anyone to see. Calum wondered what his dad knew about the information. Was he the one who redacted it, or was he trying to figure out what the blacked-out lines read? 

He scanned the pages until he found a string of words that were on display.

July Twenty-Fifth, (redacted)…Project (redacted)...Test Subject Number 0-0-7…

Tag List. @sattlersquarry @leptitlu @echoing-oursong

[mzmatusmoto]

Captain, Oh Captain~Rangiku Matsumoto

Anime/Fandom:Bleach

Pairing: Rangiku x captain fem! reader

Word Count: 839

Content Warning: Smut {18 plus only} wlw, Boob play, fingering, teasing, praise

Captain duties were abundant. As squad seven’s new captain, you had a difficult time warming up to your underlings and subordinates, replacing Captain Komamura’s (huge) shoes grew to be quite the feat.

Your office hardly had its empty days; squad members had their issues and you were more than happy to resolve them, yet it was comforting to know that they didn’t need you from time to time. 

The moment you collapsed in your chair, soft, strawberry-blonde hair engulfed your shoulders and neck, breasts bounced and bumped your back. 

You tensed at the feeling, then scoffed as your girlfriend wrapped her arms around your shoulder.

“Is there a reason why you snuck in here and hid your spirit energy?” you deadpanned but you leaned into her touch anyway. 

“Aw, and here I just wanted to help you relax, captain,” Rangiku purred. Her lips found the underside of your ear, pressed a few kisses there. “Don’t you want me to help you relax, captain?”

A shiver rushed along your back. Rangiku chuckled as if she felt it herself. 

“You’ve been working so hard, captain,” she said. Her words were slow, mirroring her the movements that followed: pushing off your captains haori and the top of your shihakusho as she slipped her hands under to fondle your breasts. “It’s my job as a lieutenant to make my captain feel good.” 

“Y-You aren’t even my lieutenant--shit, Giku!” you yelped, trying to speak through the sensation of Rangiku pinching and squeezing your breasts. “Lets hope I’m the only captain who gets this treatment from you--fuck!”

Rangiku nipped at your right boob now, eyes shiny and glancing up at you as she smirked.

“Only for you, y/n. I could be your lieutenant, giving my captain what she needs. Every. Single. Day,” Rangiku said with a kiss to the side of your mouth, neck and chest. “Captain Hitsugaya would understand.”

You tried protesting, although Rangiku’s fingers were quicker, you thought she’d give the stealth force a run for their money at how fast she untied your obi, stuffing a hand down your undergarments. 

Rangiku searched, finding your warm, yet slick center with a shit eating grin; you gasped at the contact.

“Have you been thinking about this?” she asked. Another kiss as she rubbed gently at your clit, pressing on it softly with one digit. Have you been thinking about me, captain?”

“Rangiku, I-I’m not your captain, j-just fucking--”

You moaned as Rangiku inserted one finger. 

“Oh, captain, if you wanted me to fuck you just tell me. I’ll do whatever you want.”

Another moan followed instead of your command. Rangiku curled the finger slowly all while squeezing your nipple and pressing hot mouth kissing down your neck, sucking at your pulse point oh so well.

“Please, Giku, I-I want you,” you whimpered. Your hands tugged at her strawberry-blonde locks, prompting the lieutenant to groan, sending her warm breath against your neck. “I-I want you to--”

Rangiku kissed you fully on the lips to absorb your whine.

“Ah, baby, you’ve got to tell me,” she cooed as she tilted your chin up with her finger. Her other hand continued to slowly play at your pussy, rubbing the lips with two fingers. “If you don’t, I’ll just assume you’d want me to stop. You do have a lot of paper work, I wouldn’t want my captain to fall behind.”

“No! I’ve got time to, just please, finish what you started and fuck me!” 

 Rangiku’s lips curled into a smile, you jerked at the touch, your hips twitched.

“Yes ma’am, captain,” she purred.

She collected your built up juices and slick then finally inserted a finger, making you moan and shudder in her arms. The lieutenant created a nice rhythm, curling her fingers a few times before finding your g spot easily based on how your thighs shook. She went faster; your breath grew quick as your stomach tightened and your hand went down to grip her working wrist.

“Mmmh, fuck! Don’t stop, right there! I-I’m so close!”

“Oh! Then go on, come whenever you’d like,” Rangiku said. She rocked against you, her own breath labored a bit in soft pants. “God, you’re so sexy, an amazing shinigami, a captain falling apart for me like this. I’m gonna come just from this.”

Her words sent you over the edge, your orgasm washing over you once the words poured from her lips; you cry was muffled when Rangiku kissed you, gently pulled her fingers out of your warm heat and wrapped her arms around you. 

“I got you, it’s ok, breathe,” she whispered against your lips. “You did so well. The duties haven’t been too hard, have they?”

You rolled your eyes. Why’d she have to bring up work after she was just inside you? A kiss to her lips managed to shut her up while your hands moved up her own breasts. 

“I don’t want to hear about work, will you let captain touch you?”

Rangiku giggled and leaned forward to capture your lips again. “Yes, ma’am.”