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simpjaes · 2 months

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HARD CASH, EASY MONEY (p.js)

Jay is rich-rich and likes to frequent the strip club you dance at. You know regulars tend to have their favorite dancers, but to become his favorite? Oh, well….you knew he’d rent out a private room sooner or later.

Or the one where you tell jay that if breaks the rules, he’s going to have to fork up a very large sum of money and, well, he seems entirely ready to pay up.

minors dni! | if you read it, reblog it.

WORDCOUNT― 5.4k

PAIRING― jay x afab reader

CONTENT― pussy drunk and rich as hell jay, stripper reader, jay is taller than reader.

NOTE: if u read this before no u didn’t bc i reworked a lot of it!!! just to cover my bases, hi i am ncteez and if you feel like this fic sounds too close to another one, its because i wrote them both!!! thank you!!!

nsfw tags under cut:

nsfw tags: lap dancing, shy-ish jay, unprotected sex, cream pie, doggy style on a couch, thick cock jay, reader doesn’t cum lmfaooooo

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Having sex with a client is a big no-no in the industry you’ve grown to love. You are to be desired, eye-fucked, and paid to look sexy. The fact that you don’t have to give them any part of you outside of a show? What’s not to love about it?

There are men who try to get touchy, men who are too shy to make eye contact, and men who refuse to break eye contact. All three of these types of clients bring in the big bucks and tend to become regulars to either yourself or one of the other girls who make the men believe they are also an object of desire.

It’s easy, really. After all, why not use the goods you were born with to make the big bucks?

Then you have those clients. The men with big-shot jobs, walking in and ordering the most expensive drink, quietly observing the women as if they aren’t even interested at all. The ones who have wives, children, and stresses that will weigh on them the moment they walk out of their homes for work.

To them, you are their secret little stress relief and you often find yourself acting out towards them, letting them break a rule or two, perhaps. Dancing a little longer for them sometimes just to really rake in the dollars. Mostly because they’re the ones who pay your expensive rent. They’re the reason you can live on the high-end of the city and buy new, sexy, lingerie to wear each night you dance and bounce around on the stage.

Jay was one of those men, so you assumed. A little young looking if you’re being honest, but who are you to pry when he’s throwing hundreds at you and the other dancers?

You remember the first time he walked through those doors. You thought he was going to be one of the shy men, avoiding eye contact and shuffling uncomfortably on his seat to hide the boner, presumably ashamed to know he could never have the women up on stage that are intentionally making him hard.

He isn’t though, and you swear just last weekend he bought out the entire fucking club because he was the only one watching on a late saturday night, silently judging each dancer. You also remember when he made eye contact with you on that night. His eyes were sharp under the dimmed lighting and you swear he could hear the way your heart skipped a beat with the intimidation, mostly because the motherfucker smirked before throwing out five crisp hundred dollar bills.

Even on the first night he ever attended, the girls talked. You remember when your best friend ran back in her six inch pumps, jumping with glee and explaining that the new guy threw two hundred at her only a minute into her dance.

Naturally, all the girls wanted to put on a show for him after that.

He appeared to be rich. And everyone was shocked, really, because even the richest of clients typically don’t give a bill over fifty to the dancers unless he pays for privacy. This man though? He was tipping with bills that showed his status.

It was really only natural from that moment forward for each girl plus yourself to try and win him over. You’d stay near his side of the stage, directing the gyrating and pussy shots right at him just to see those bills flutter to the floor of the stage.

In all honesty though, these types of clients never stay long. Usually they’re in the city on business and visit once, only to never come back. This one though? Oh, he keeps coming back. Every. Single. Saturday.

Having no ring on his fingers only made it better because many of the married men do not feel the guilt of ogling women while married. Huge turn off. Like, hey, if they don’t touch, it’s not cheating right? Either way, eating fancy and living in your nice flat paid for by the lust of men is a perfect lifestyle for you. Even if you have to pretend to like the pigs pretending to love their wives.

You called dibs on this new man as quickly as you could, to the dismay of the other dancers. Calling dibs was never truly honored though, because who the man chooses is usually who ends up dancing for him and getting the most money.

This guy never seemed to choose a girl though. He never pays for dances, never speaks, never so much as shivers in his seat at the image of a pussy sticking to panties in front of his face for his money. All he does is watch and throw bills.

You should be pleased. After all, he’s kind of a perfect client.

Weeks and months go by at this point and Jay keeps his regular Saturday night appearances. After what you and all the other dancers believe regarding him buying out the club last weekend, he’s a very welcome face to see.

Tonight though, several dancers have come back into the lounge crying because this guy didn’t tip them a fucking dime. Given, a bouncer shows up not ten minutes after each crying face with a nice tray of drinks and an envelope with their stage names on it.

It’s gotten to the point now that with how long he’s been visiting the club, some girls even roll their eyes at him. Wondering how desperate he must be, how privileged he must be to flaunt his money the way he does.

Still, that doesn’t stop every single one of you from working your bodies for him in hopes of more, more, more money.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Same old, same old at the club half a year later. Saturday night, several regulars, several new faces, and of course, that young rich guy sitting front and center.

You walked into work just as the sun began to set and there he was. At this point you can tell by the back of his head with that nice hair cut. So many other men show up disheveled, and half of them are already wasted by the time later shows even start. Still, you smile in knowing you’ll make rent again this month. After all, you just spent a bit too much money on some new shoes and outfits.

Still, but this point regarding this rich ass guy, even you’re getting annoyed. Every saturday he tips you anywhere between five hundred to a thousand dollars. Given, you’re very aware that it’s much more than the other dancers get, and you kind of have been lying about the amount he tips you so they don’t feel bad. It’s the fact that he isn’t giving anyone a chance to really show him a good time.

Private rooms and VIP services are highly sought after in this club and he can definitely afford it. It just appears that he doesn’t want to get personal with anyone.

Given, there’s no sex involved, of course. It’s just intimate lap dances, music of their choosing, sharing drinks, and occasionally just becoming a therapist for loser old men. Still, you wish he’d give you a chance to really get into your moves.

And, well, would you look at that.

You’re in the back room settling into your seat to lace up your new shoes when one of the owners walks up to you.

“You’ve got a dance.” He says to you, smiling. “You’ll never guess who it is.”

You look at yourself in the mirror, popping your lips with the pretty lipgloss before wiping some off that overlined your lips, and then shift your eyes to the owner through the glass.

“Jake, again?”

The owner shakes his head with a laugh. Surely Jake would be here soon to try and get you to dance for him again though.

“Who, then?” You laugh, leaning back down to fix a strap on your shoe.

“His name is Park Jongseong, goes by the name of Jay.”

“Okay?” You laugh, turning in your chair to face the man. “Is this his first time buying a dance?”

“Oh yeah.” The owner says brightly. “He bought you out for the entire night, head to room 11 when you’re dressed, he’s already made himself at home.”

Nothing else is said by the owner as he turns and walks out.

“The whole night?” One of the girls laughs at your situation. “You’d better hope he tips well.”

“Well, buying out the entire night sounds expensive, he must be one of the rich ones.” You laugh with a shrug, a little frustrated that your new shoes won’t be seen by the foot-fetish men. They’re always out and feral on Saturdays.

“Maybe–” The other dancer laughs, looking at you with kind of a pitiful look. “Hope he’s not ugly.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You’ve done so many private dances before, but none that had ever taken the entire shift. To be fair, you didn’t even know they could do that. You assume that the owner took the offer because he decided the money was worth it. Wondering how much was offered to pay for your presence, you feel kind of good.

This isn’t exactly a cheap club, surely this is a great opportunity.

Whoever Jay is though, he’d better make this wasted shift worth your time.

“Hi,” You whisper without looking up, sauntering into room 11 with a small voice. They always like when you’d act smaller in terms of personality, submissive even.

The lights are dimmer than usual when you walk in and you’ve only used this room once or twice during your entire career at this club. It was the most expensive room, one with its own pole, a large velvet couch, and more space to move around compared to the others.

The man doesn’t respond to you as your eyes adjust to him, but then–Oh.

Oh.

Jackpot.

“Jay?” You look at the man who had spent thousands on you and the other dancers since he’d become a regular. “That’s the name of the man who spoils us?”

He just nods at you, staring you up and down with the same sharp eyes he had the night you’d first seen him.

“Not a man of many words?” You question, walking over to him slowly, swinging your hips like the way you always do when you’re on the clock. “So, I take it you won’t tell me why you picked me, huh?” You laugh playfully, looking over to the pole but parking yourself in front of him.

“Why wouldn’t I have picked you?” He lets out, taking a sip of his drink. “You’re my favorite to watch.”

Hearing his voice felt surreal, somehow setting him apart from any other client you’ve had seated in front of you. His voice is smooth, but you can’t tell if you think that because he’d held your curiosity for the longest time, or because he just said you’re his favorite to watch.

“Oh yeah?” You smile at him with a tilt of your head. “Lucky me.”

With that, you see how he relaxes against the couch to watch you. Business as usual. You don’t even ask how much he shelled out for this, because you know it had to be a lot. His first offer was probably much more than what the owner would have accepted to begin with.

You do your job for him though, twirling and sliding yourself against and on the pole. The music is a lovely choice, one that is chill enough to move slowly, but upbeat enough to bounce and wiggle for him.

The pole is cold as usual, allowing your nipples to perk enough to where, now, because he is closer to you than he had ever been, he can see them. You definitely see him watching too, still with that same bored expression despite the money he lends out just to experience it. You continue your routine, spreading your cheeks, pressing your tits together, making eye contact with him, smirking, and licking your lips.

Jay mouths the lyrics to the songs sometimes, but his eyes never leave you even when he dips his head for a drink. His eyes are less sharp now compared to before, being replaced with a hazy kind of look as he drags his gaze up and down your mostly-exposed body.

Noting that you’ve never seen his face shift before out in the main area, you believe that you are experiencing Jay actually reacting to a woman now. No longer looking uninterested but tipping as if he had cum in his pants during each dance. You feel entirely desired by him, and you kind of like it.

“I think you’re the most handsome client I’ve ever danced for.” You say in a soft voice, slowly backing away from the pole as the song changes. After all, you always sweet talk clients when it’s a one on one like this, though usually you’re lying. You actually mean it this time. “Do you know the rules?”

Jay nods as his legs spread a bit when you walk towards him. He knows you’re taking your time because he did pay for the entire night.

“No touching.” You whisper as the bass picks up on the speakers. It’s lap-dance time at the moment, and like always, you recite the most important rule.

He nods again, eyes glued to you as you turn around in front of him and begin to ghost your ass over his lap.

Watching you, he is well aware of the rules and perfectly comfortable with them. He would never violate a woman regardless of how sexy he finds her. He can buy her time, but he knows he can’t buy her intimacy on any level higher than he already has.

You dance against him for what feels like an hour, but only three songs come and go. Jay is stoic beneath you but you can see his facade break every now and then. He will shake his head to himself sometimes, or flutter his eyes closed when your tits are less than an inch from his face.

Usually, he is great at composing himself in this kind of situation. He knew when he became a regular here that having you would be impossible but that didn’t stop him from showing up. He knows it’s your job, and you act this way with everyone, so he can’t just break composure and show you just how fucking badly he wants you. Truly, he can’t embarrass himself by being so obvious.

“I imagine you’re struggling, Jay–” You break him out of his thoughts by calling him out instantly, turning and now spreading your legs across his lap to sit on him. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, mostly because you know he’s going to tip you big time. “Don’t you want to touch?”

He stutters out a laugh, and maybe believing he was one of the shy clients isn’t entirely untrue.

“It’s against the rules.” He deadpans, keeping his hands at his sides and glancing away from you, trying not to imagine the fact that he’s got the prettiest stripper in the club grinding against his cock right now. Though you’re not entirely grinding against it, he can feel a soft sort of friction every few seconds as you dance on top of him.

“Do you want to break the rules?” You tilt your head, knowing that you’re already touching him by wrapping your arms around him and kind of like, being incredibly attracted to him. You’d probably let him break more than a few rules if he wants it, not just for the tips either.

When he looks up to make eye contact with you, you nod at him and he follows, nodding himself.

“If you break a rule and touch me, you will have to pay me a hefty fine not to tell on you.” You laugh cheekily, batting your lashes and bouting your lips at him.

He could pay your rent for the next several months if he wanted to just for fucking fun? Like hell you’d report him for touching you when you’re struggling yourself not to touch him more.

“How much?” He instantly says, smirking as if you could name any price. For him though, hearing you suddenly offer some sort of deal in order to let him touch you has his mind doing flips.

Rules, rules, fucking rules.

Fuck the rules, he can afford to break them.

You’re a little taken aback by his playing along. You were mostly joking, but the suggestion is still there if he’s the type to... y’know, wanna fool around with a stripper.

“Half a mil.” You joke again, pulling back from his lap to slap against his arm, knowing the price is too high but flirting anyway. “Touch me and you lose”

You didn’t expect him to nod back at you.

“Five hundred thousand.” He confirms, keeping his hands at his sides. “Go on then, try and win your money.”

You’re fucking floored. Half a million is really on the line right now? There’s no fucking way he thinks he can lose. No way would a man really put that much on the line just to see if you can seduce them into breaking a rule that you’d allow him to break for free.

The game is on now though, it seems, as you do everything in your power to tease the ever-loving fuck out of the rich man in front of you. You ruffle his hair, you ghost your lips over his and everywhere else, you dance against him, on him, around him. You spread your legs out for him, slapping your own clothed pussy, you tease your nipples at him as if you’d pull your breasts out.

You can see him start to falter about two hours into the game. You had whispered into his ear and noted how he leaned into it. When you walked around the couch so that you could stand in front of him again, you saw how painfully hard he had become. Lowering yourself to your knees in front of him as if you would be in a position to swallow his cock whole, you look up at him innocently. “Is that for me?”

Jay groans, nodding shortly. He’s definitely breaking, and he’s starting to not care.

“I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do now–” He admits when he drops his hand from his hair and looks at you with a crooked smile.

You smile at him, that half a mil is yours.

“Oh yeah?” You run your hands up and down his thighs. “You’ve wanted to fuck me before?”

Jay nods, watching how dangerously close your hands get to his cock, lending a twitch and hoping you notice it.

“You’ll lose if you touch me though–” You’re cut off by him, seething out words in a deeper voice.

“You act like I didn’t intend to lose.” He says, leaning forward and pinching your chin between his fingers, lifting your head to look at him.

When he lifts your chin, he pulls your face a bit closer, shifting your body in a way that allows him to slot a leg between yours from the floor. He stares at you, almost like he knows that even after giving you the prize money, he’d still be the one to win.

“D-did you?” You say, a bit intimidated by him and his rough hand holding your face, he forces you to look at him.

“I did.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone. “You’ve never moved your body like this on stage, was I wrong to think you’d let me fuck you?”

You shake your head, sticking your tongue out a bit to lick the tip of his thumb, unintentionally rubbing your pussy against his shin.

“But I don’t fuck clients.” You try to argue for the sake of it, despite Jay definitely being a client you want to fuck.

“Oh yeah?” He says, turning your face to the side and skewing his neck to see your ass. “Is that why you’re practically fucking my leg right now?”

You bashfully shake your head out of his grip, halting your hips and pulling back from how close his face is to yours. “No?” He laughs, leaning back and crossing his arms as he looks down at you.

“I mean…“ You go back on your own word. “You already touched me and–” You shrug. ”I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t wet right now.”

Jay’s cock instantly twitches against his pants as he smirks at you with a confident nod.

“Stand up then.” He says, nodding his head more as if to motion you to do as he says. His legs spread as you rise to your feet and he instantly adjusts himself when he goes to stand up in front of you too.

Fuck, he’s taller than you and the way he looks down at you feels so much more intimating than before. You are entirely silent when he towers over you and you flinch a bit when his arm wraps around your waist.

You’re a little shocked by how rough he is when he moves you around, twisting you to where you’re facing the couch and being shoved down against it. “This is what you wanted, right?” He seethes out as you hear his belt being unbuckled.

Almost in a whine, you whisper out a ‘yes’. He’s floored by the sound of it, because it almost sounds like a fucking plead. Lucky me, he thinks.

After all, he’s watched you for months moving your body like you need a cock to fill it. Not just dancing like the other girls, you would fuck the stage for him and his money. And now? Oh, you’re gonna get fucked.

Jay doesn’t hesitate after hearing you, the money he’s lost in the bet is so far in the back of his mind because to be fair, he would have paid far more just to look at you. The only reason he’s pulling his cock out right now is because you fucking want it.

The bet was to not touch you. It appears you’d be pleased with both his cock and his money.

Not because it’s your job either, quite frankly, he knows it isn’t your job to fuck clients. He feels special, and he knows he damn well should be special.

You were seeing stars from the moment he touched your face, but this? God, this is more than you could have imagined. Such a fit, attractive man throwing his money at you and slipping your panties to the side just to see what no one else in this club sees. You wonder if his mouth is watering, if his hands are trembling, if his cock is twitching.

Jay slips a finger into you with ease and without warning, just to test and see if you really do want him to fuck you into the next dimension, and thankfully, you’re more wet than he could have imagined.

“Goddamn, baby, you want it?” He asks, confirming for himself that this is all for him.

You nod your face against the couch, arching in a way that props your ass up a little higher for him.

“Good good.” He says, fucking his finger into you a bit more before taking another step forward and resting his cock between your cheeks for a moment.

“Letting your clients fuck you?” His hand wraps around your middle and pulls you up and against, grunting into your ear. “You always do this?”

You couldn’t even answer when you feel him press his cock down and between your legs. So fucking thick.

“Go on, look.” He demands against your ear, holding you still against him with his arm as he slides between your folds. You look down to see the head of his cock peeking from between your legs and the image alone had you feeling gagged.

When you moan out at the image, you hear him chuckle against your ear and then you feel him pull his hips back, angling himself perfectly so that he can slide his cock into you.

In one long, languid thrust, you feel the entirety of him. You can hear his sigh against you, and feel his hand tighten around your middle when he bottoms out.

His cock is so thick, pulsing inside of you and weeping out thick pre-cum, only offering more to the wet you drench him in.

“Ah, listen to that–” He says, releasing your middle and slamming his hips back and forward just a few times to let the sound of how wet you are echo under the music. “So wet for the money, hm?” He continues, now pressing you into the cushions of the couch, knowing you’ll soon be biting against the fabric.

You hum against the cushions, rolling your eyes back at the delicious feeling of him paired with his voice.

“Or is it for me?” He asks now, voice coming out in a low rumble as he slams his hips into you repeatedly with deep pushes and sharp drags.

You nod again, almost frantically as you lift yourself to grip onto the back of the couch, and when you turn your head to look behind you, Jay is almost glaring at you with that same devilish smirk on his face.

Almost as if, even if he’s losing all that money, he’s fucking winning right now.

You watch his neck tense when he throws his head back with a drawn-out moan shortly after, and he doesn’t stop. He snaps his hips so quickly, and fucks into you so hard that all you can do is let out small whimpers each time the head of his cock hits a soft spot inside of you.

And when he doubles over you, using his other hand to stretch your panties impossibly far to the side, lying his head against your shoulder, you can tell he’s losing his composure too.

He’s so cocky, but goddamn is it nice to feel a man like this lose composure because of your pussy.

His hips stutter in and out of you and his breathing is heavy, fingers gripping both of your ass cheeks and spreading them every few seconds only to release them and watch them bounce together before slapping hard against the flesh.

“Can’t believe you’re spread out for me right now,” He moans out as he reaches his hand up and swipes his hair out of his face, and then his hips snap back into you sharply. Almost pointed.

“Knew you would be too, I saw the way you looked at me baby– you wanted it too.” He breathes out with each thrust, as if he knew he would have you under him someday, you don’t argue. If you had met Jay on the street and he hit on you, you’d be far too easy for him to capture.

“Don’t ever let another man do this for you–” He moans out now, amazed by how tight your cunt is around him.

Truly, and not even trying to be rude, he genuinely didn’t think you’d feel this fucking strangled against his cock. It’s perfect. He wants to lay claim so fucking bad, and so, he fucks harder, quicker.

“Don’t ever let another man pay for this pussy.”

You nod with a strangled moan, struggling to keep your grip on the couch with his weight on you when he leans forward, pressing his chest to your back.

“I’ll stop showing up.” He threatens. “Wouldn’t want that now, would we?” He continues to talk, hunched over you, fucking you just right while gripping both of your tips in that slutty bra you’re wearing.

And before you can even answer in a whimper, a cry, or a moan, you feel his cock pulse inside of you. Seemingly fucking you until he’s empty only because you feel it happen. He releases himself inside of you, cumming spurts of thick white ropes against your quivering walls.

Right then, he grabs you by the hair, pulling you back and against him and holding you so tightly in place. All you can do is sit still for him, cockwarming him through his orgasm as you try to speak.

“You wouldn’t be able to stay away anyway–” You try to be snide through the pleasure of feeling his cum bubble out of you. “Look at how fast you came.”

He snarls first at your comment, only to chuckle as he orgasm comes to an end. Truly the sounds he made to your comment were so fucking erotic, you almost can’t imagine ever letting another man do this anyway. For some reason, having Jay act all possessive over you is much less offensive anyway, compared to the other men who would probably try this with you.

You don’t see it as him assuming you’re a woman who would allow just any man to have sex with her for money, anyway. You think he knew he’d be able to pull it off. Though, if that weren’t the case, it wouldn’t be any of his fucking business anyway.

If anything, you decide that he gets possessive when his cock is fucking, and you feel kinda glad that you were the one he picked.

Not kinda. Actually, you’re fucking over the moon over it.

The fact that the man cumming inside of you is the man all of the girls want to dance for makes you feel like you’re the prettiest woman in the world. His money is attractive, but god, the way he fucks is somehow more enticing. You wouldn’t mind doing it again, and again, and again.

And when he finishes and pulls out of you, all he does is slide your panties back to their rightful place and gives your pussy a little tap, as if to comfort you into keeping his cum inside of you for safe keeping.

And yeah, he knows you didn't cum but to be fair, as much as he would have loved giving you an orgasm, your pussy felt too good for him to stop. Perhaps you’ll call for him to return the favor? Who knows? (God, he hopes you do.)

By the time he’s sat back on the couch, allowing you to lounge against him as you catch your breath, he’s already pulling out his wallet.

“I don’t carry cash.” He says, pulling out a card. “At least not half a million worth, so, just take this.”

He hopes you take note of what he’s doing. After all, the club has an ATM, he could always just make a couple of transactions for this.

You look at him wide-eyed, seeing the black card he holds out to you. He's actually paying you? You didn’t think he’d really give you half a million, seeing as how much you enjoyed that? Being paid for sex isn’t actually something you do.

Then again, he’s paying for breaking the rules, not for fucking you.

“You’re just going to give me your card?” You laugh, raising a brow in confusion. “I could go way over the limit?”

“You wouldn’t.” He shrugs first, and laughs second. “You won’t.”

Taking the card into your hand, it feels much heavier than any credit card you’ve ever held.

“No, really. You can’t just give me your card.” You laugh, tossing it back at him.

“Says who?” He looks at you seriously this time. “If I don’t see you again, I’ll just report you for fraud.”

He’s being fucking serious? Genuinely?

“Jay–” You try to scold him, but he doesn't let you.

“Just take the damn card.” He demands, standing to his feet and ruffling his hair with a breath. “Don’t embarrass me more by not taking it.”

“Embarrass you?” You ask, looking at the card and the way he just leaves it lying against the couch.

Almost as if, if you don’t take it, someone else will.

“Listen, I don’t normally do this.” He trails off, feeling the post-nut guilt. “The least I can do is hold up my end of the deal.”

“This is your credit card.” You still try to argue with him, turning to watch him walk towards the door.

“Don’t use it then. Just give it back to me when I see you again.”

You watch him reach for the doorknob.

“Saturday?” You ask.

“Saturday.”

And then he’s gone, and you’re five hundred thousand dollars richer, somehow.

#enhypen smut #park jongseong smut #jongseong smut #jay smut #park jay smut #jay park smut #enha smut

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aperrywilliams · 1 month

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If Anything, I Find it Educative (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Part 1: If Anything I Find It Educative

Part 2: It Was Horrible Until It Wasn’t

Part 3: Douchebag Falls Short in This Case

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Spencer is not happy attending the annual FBI Gala this year. Having to socialize with a woman who only wants to seduce him makes it worse. But one not-so-fortunate incident could improve his night somehow.

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: Awkward Spencer. Morgan is stubborn about Spencer getting 'game.' Spencer spills facts about seafood (oysters), human biting, and cheating. Mention to Spencer's dick (only a phrase). Someone choking on food is described. A toxic relationship and job insecurities are described too. If I forgot something, let me know.

A/N: Okay, people. This is kind of an experiment: I want to know how you think the relationship between Spencer and Reader might evolve (if it evolves at all). Good friends? Romantic relationship rom-com style? An angsty romantic relationship? Friends to lovers? Just lovers? What important things do you imagine could happen to them? (canon or not). What could be the Reader's whole back story?

This is just a one-shot, but I am considering continuing it based on your thoughts and suggestions.

Part 2

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Spencer's POV

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There are few things I hate more than being surrounded by many people at an event. Standing in the middle of a crowded party dressed in formal attire is one of them.

It is an uncomfortable occasion highlighted by uncomfortable clothes.

And this time, it's Hotch's fault.

Tonight, I should have been at home, wrapped in a cozy blanket and enjoying my new edition of War and Peace. But the annual FBI gala and Hotch's adamant request blew my plans.

"Strauss wants to see the whole team at the venue this year. And we are in a very thin line with her to ignore her wishes."

No one seemed conflicted with the idea of attending this fancy party. Even some of my teammates looked excited about it. While JJ and Garcia chatted animatedly for days about what dress they would choose, Morgan saw it as a chance to get to know the new female agents working at Counterterrorism. Rossi only wanted to know how good the scotch would be this year, and Prentiss took it as an excuse to have free drinks. For his part, Hotch seemed as calm as any day at work.

But me? I wasn't excited at all.

Reluctantly, I purchased a tuxedo for the gala. At first, I thought about renting one since I would hardly use it again. But my germophobic self made me think again, and I decided the expense would at least make me feel less uncomfortable.

Keyword: a little less uncomfortable.

Now, I'm standing at the entrance, scanning the venue, searching for a familiar face. The place is packed with agents from all divisions and their plus ones, so it's hard to find anything at all.

But a familiar voice pulls me from my struggle.

"Boy genius! Over here!"

Penelope is calling my name from a table in the corner. As my gaze lands on her, I can see Morgan, Emily, JJ, and Hotch there too.

A sigh of relief escapes my lips, and quickly, I stroll where my teammates are.

"Spence! You made it!" JJ greets me as I pull a chair next to Morgan to sit.

"We thought you weren't coming," Emily added before sipping her drink.

"I understood it was a requirement," I quipped, looking at Hotch. The aforementioned man nodded in agreement.

"It was, indeed. Have I to remind you Strauss is still mad about the whole ordeal with you stepping into a building with no vest and no gun?"

Hotch is right. Strauss made his life hell for a whole week until he notified my suspension.

I wince, remembering the incident in question.

Self-note: don't leave behind the vest and the gun again.

"You look very handsome, boy wonder," Garcia chimes, waving her hand and pointing at me.

I can't help but blush at the compliment. It's not she hasn't done it before, and I know she means well, but-

"Maybe pretty boy gets some game tonight," Morgan claps his hand on my shoulder, grinning.

That's why I don't like that kind of attention. At every chance, someone pips up and tries to play wingman or wingwoman for me. And although I appreciate their efforts, I like to move at my own pace. Even if some say my pace, it's more like a turtle's speed.

Giving him a tight-lip smile, I reach for a glass of water. I don't know how I'll survive this night.

Surprisingly, it is okay for now. I fall into conversation with Garcia and JJ, although it is more like me listening and them talking. Occasionally, I add some to the topic, and they seem receptive.

But Derek looks impatient to stand and march to a group of women talking on the opposite side of the venue, next to the bar. I don't look much into it until I feel his hand on my shoulder.

"You're oddly quiet tonight, pretty boy. What's up?" My sight darts from JJ and Penelope to Derek.

"Nothing?" I offer. My eyebrows creace. Derek snickers.

"I know what you need! Come on, let's enjoy the party and come with me to chat with those beautiful agents at the bar over there," he proposes. I shake my head.

"No. I'm good. You can go if you want. I don't think you need my help."

Derek rolls his eyes.

"Don't get dismissive with me. It'll help you to lose a little. I promise," he insists. And I know I'm losing my battle with him tonight.

"As if I had something interesting to say to them," I mumble, loud enough for Derek to hear.

"Don't say that. Surely, some would like to hear about, I don't know, oysters? And how they became a symbol of glamor or whatever. Because I'm sure you know that, right?" Derek points, grabbing an oyster from the tray a waiter offers him.

"Actually, oysters were not considered a status symbol until the 11th century, when the Crusades trunked access to seafood in Europe. Some researchers believe that-"

I'm about to explain the whole thing when Morgan cuts me off.

"See? Now, don't waste that knowledge with me, and let's share it with those gorgeous, shall we?"

I'm screwed.

I reluctantly stand to follow Derek. I know he's the best intention even if I won't tell him that. Maybe he's right, and I need to step out of my comfort zone occasionally.

As smoothly as only Morgan can be, he interrupts the conversation between three women by the bar. You would think they would return annoyed looks from the sudden interruption, but they did not. It is everything but that.

"Excuse me, beautiful ladies. Hope you don't mind some company. My friend and I thought it would be an honor to share part of your precious time tonight."

How the fuck can he do that?!

The result shocked me almost more than it impressed me. The three turn to us with flirting smiles flashing to Derek. And me?

That's new. And, of course, I have to blush furiously at that.

"Hey, handsome. Sweet talk, uh?" One of the girls teases Derek while the others giggle.

"I know I can do better, but you make me nervous, sweetheart," Morgan banters as smoothly as the beginning.

And that's it. We have their full attention now. Scratch that; Derek has their full attention now.

He asks for their names, and that's how I know the woman who spoke first is Vivian, and her friends are Julie and Ashley. The three of them work in the Counterterrorism Division.

"And who is your good-looking friend?" Ashley asks, skimming at me.

Why is she looking at me from head to toe?

Derek glances at me, and I understand it's time for me to say something.

"I'm Spencer," I wave.

Short and precise.

"Hi, Spencer. You are cute," Ashley points, and suddenly, my mouth goes dry.

As Emily once said, my IQ slashes to 60 when I'm in front of a beautiful woman. And Ashley is a beautiful woman. Her long, stylish blond hair, blue eyes, tan skin with perfect makeup, gorgeous smile, and a dress that accentuates her body in the right places. It would be stupid to say she is not attractive.

"Why don't we go to the dance floor while Ashley and Spencer get to know each other better, uh?" Derek offers to Julie and Vivian, winking at me.

Oh, Lord. Help me.

I don't think Derek or Ashley would appreciate it if I refused to stay here and run to the nearest exit. So I give Ashley a tight smile and prepare myself for whatever comes now.

"Well...?" she prompts, and I don't know what the fuck she expects me to say.

"Yeah. Nice party," I offer, hoping my attempt to small talk works.

Ashley's smile suggests it does.

"It is. Are you having fun?"

No.

"Yes! A lot! Are you?"

"Yeah. But I think it turns out better now," she says, subtly closing some distance between us with a playful look directed at me.

Is she flirting with me?

I clear my throat to appease some of my nerves. I need to cool off. If Derek can do this, I should try.

A waitress approaches us and offers some drinks. Ashley picks a glass of wine, and I prefer a flute of champagne. I don't usually drink alcohol, but I need it now.

"Slow down, boy. People would think I make you nervous," Ashley points seductively when she notices how I quickly down the liquid.

My eyes widen when she rests a hand on my chest and leans to whisper in my ear.

"I don't bite. Unless you want me to."

Okay. That sounds very straightforward.

I should feel flattered. An attractive woman is more than insinuating me right now; I barely said anything. But it doesn't feel like that.

Derek surely would tell me, 'Take it and play it, pretty boy,' but I don't feel like it. If we could engage in a kind of conversation, I would feel more comfortable. Don't get me wrong. I know what a potential one-night stand means, but I'm not good at it. That's how I am. Sue me.

I want to turn her down gently, so I do what I know to do, and people usually hate me for it: spit information.

"Compared with other mammals, like dogs and bears, humans don't have the strongest bite. Scientists measure the pressure exerted by an animal's bite in pounds per square inch or psi. The human bite force is 162 psi. The bite force of some dogs can reach 250 psi, while some bears have a bite force of over 1,000 psi. It's interesting, actually-"

Ashley is now looking at me, confused. She retreats his hand from my chest and hums, faking interest in what I'm saying.

As I go on with my info dump, I notice how Ashley changes her empty glass of wine to a filled one when a server offers it.

Aside from 'interesting,' 'oh,' and 'uhm,' she doesn't add more to the conversation - or more likely, my rambling - and by now, you would think she's tired of me. But no. For God knows what reason, she is persistent. I give her that.

Typically, I can ramble on and on, which is not the exception. The waiters and waitresses keep coming with drinks and food, and even I pick some for myself.

When they offer us a tray with oysters, I can't help but recall what Morgan told me before.

As I see Ashley ushering one to her mouth, I deliver an exciting fact about it.

"Did you know that raw oysters are still alive? Indeed, some people argue oysters might feel pain, and others say that because they don't have a central nervous system, they don't feel pain like other seafood species might."

Not looking at her, I focus on my oyster, inspecting it before continuing.

"If it's that so, the question is when they die actually. This is likely to happen when they are shucked rather than when they are chewed or swallowed. Scientists think this because an oyster's heart is right next to the bottom adductor muscle, so separating it from the shell kills it."

I should have known the lack of response wasn't due to the interest in the topic, although speaking was impossible for her. Her face's blueness and her hand on her neck now tell me something is wrong.

Fuck. She is choking.

I don't know what to do. She is choking on an oyster, and I'm paralyzed. The people around us start to scream as they see her turning blue. That picks everyone's attention, and I want to dig a hole to get into right now. But first, I should do something to help her. Before I can reach for her, a pair of arms hugs Ashley from behind and applies the Heimlich Maneuver. After a few thrusts into the abdominal area, we see the oyster fly from her mouth to somewhere on the floor.

At the same time, Vivian, Julie, and Derek rush to us to find out what is going on.

Ashley starts coughing, and some of her natural color returns to her face. The arms around her torso loosen, and that's when I notice the woman who just saved her life from choking.

Everything happens so fast that I barely register the slap across my face—Ashley's courtesy.

A collective 'Uhhh' is heard around us.

Before I can say anything, Ashley starts a rant full of anger and frustration toward me.

"Are you fucking crazy? Why would you say something like that? It's disgusting!"

Ironically, I'm speechless now.

What is wrong with talking about oysters?

"You fucking weird!" Ashley continues with her rant. It's like she has been holding it since we were left alone.

The woman who helped Ashley now looks between me and her with her eyebrow creased.

"Hey. You should take it easy. You're just recovering from-"

She can't finish the sentence since Ashley turned to lash out at her.

"Don't fucking tell me what to do! I almost died because of this pathetic nerd here who can't stop rambling about alive oysters! Just thinking about it makes me sick again!"

"Could it be a hint for not eating them anymore?" I muse, gaining a chuckle from the woman - let's call her the savior - and a deadly glare from Ashley. I recoil from saying anything else, and it is the wiser.

"I should have known better than to engage my time with you. Even if you actually pack a big dick, it doesn't worth it!" she whisper-yell at me, but loud enough for Derek, Vivian, Julie, and the mystery-savior woman to hear.

I'm utterly confused and embarrassed. What have to do my dick with all of this?

Derek is now dispersing the crowd around us as Vivian and Julie try to soothe her friend's anger, rubbing her back and arm.

I bet they see Ashley's wrath boiling and the high probability of her launching towards me to punch me. Their efforts to subdue her seem to work because, after a loud huff, Ashley only grabs her coat from Vivian's hand and spits at me: "Thanks for ruining my night!"

The three pass by my side to one of the exits venue.

I don't even know how I should feel.

I feel upset because my escape plan didn't go as planned. I feel relieved because Ashley didn't die. Hurt? Yeah, that, too. I didn't deserve a slap on my face. She calling me a pathetic nerd? Sadly, I'm not surprised. And it only confirms my theory I'm not good at this kind of setting.

With the show over and people not focused on me anymore, Derek approaches. I know what he wants to say, but I don't want to hear it. I'm done for tonight.

"Don't say it," I cut him off.

"I wasn't gonna say anything," he tells me with a sympathetic look, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Sure you not," I grumble. "And what was about that comment about my… dick?" I whisper to him.

Derek's face tries to remain neutral, but I know him better.

"What did you do?" I demand to Morgan, and he sighs.

"I may or may not have suggested a rumor about your attributes."

I look at him in disbelief.

"Shut the fuck up! You did not!"

"Come on, pretty boy. It worked! You caught their attention, didn't you?"

I shake my head, trying not to snap at him in public. Morgan can see the distress I'm carrying right now and relents.

"I'm sorry, Reid. I thought it would be a good chance for you to show yourself around. You're a good kid; you deserve to have a good time."

It's useless to engage in this argument again. I understand his good intentions, but like this? No, thanks.

"I better get going," I mumble, walking backward. I'm done for the night.

"Reid..." Morgan starts, but the shake of my head cuts him off. He sighs as I turn to head to one of the exits.

Walking through one of the venue's doors, I find myself on a lateral terrace. I stop for a moment to look around.

If there were different circumstances, I would be enjoying this view. To the front, you can see a beautiful and thick green shrubbery. Several fountains with little waterfalls and statues recreate a neoclassical garden. It is no coincidence since the property where the venue is located is a typical Jefferson's Neo-Palladian construction with high ceilings and large columns.

My architectural appreciation stops when my eyes land on a woman with her back leaning against one of the columns, her left hand resting on the concrete railing, and her right hand with a glass of wine. Her face is turned to the side, and she is observing the beautiful garden in front of her.

I know her. I've seen her before.

Although it is dark outside, the light from the venue's long windows illuminates the terrace enough.

My brain comes up with the answer in a fraction of a second.

Is the woman who saved Ashley from choking.

After what she did, nobody even thanked her. The worst part is knowing Ashley behaved that poorly with her. It's not fair. And it's my fault.

With that in mind, I approach her.

She seems too concentrated to register I'm just a foot of distance from her. I clear my throat to call her attention.

She turns her head with a confused look at first. But she offered me a kind smile when she realized who I was.

It's my first chance to look at her; with everything happening so fast, I barely noticed her trying to talk back to Ashley moments ago.

And now that I'm in front of her, I feel weirdly struck.

Besides her beautiful smile, her eyes hold a piercing gaze, but not the kind that frightens you. It's more like she actually sees you and gives you her undivided attention. With light makeup, her face lets you see some of her freckles. With her hair tied to one side, you can see her neck adorned with a simple gold chain with a compass-shaped pendant.

My not-so-subtle scrutiny is interrupted by her voice.

"Can I help you?" She asks, and my cheeks turn pink. But I'm here for a reason, so I clear my throat before speaking.

"Sorry. I - uh. I'm sorry for bothering you, but I wanted to thank you. For what you did back there," I say, pointing to the inside. "And, well, I want to apologize too. Ashley wasn't very kind to you, considering you mostly saved her life."

She tilts her head slightly, a frown forming, while contemplating what to say.

"Well," she starts. "I'll take the thanks. But I can't take the apologies."

Now, it's my turn to frown.

"Oh, okay. Uh - Why not?"

Not that she should do it. It's her right to do it or not, but I'm curious.

"Because you didn't do anything wrong to me, so you don't have to," she shrugs, like it's obvious.

"I kind of did. I mean, Ashley behaved awful, and I didn't -"

Before I can continue, she shakes her head to stop me.

"No. Don't do that. Why on earth do you want to apologize for someone else's bad manners, considering she treated you like garbage?"

She doesn't say it as if she is upset at me, more likely as if she doesn't understand why I would do that. And yes, she has a good point. But someone has to do the right thing, and that's what I say next.

"It's just the right thing to do."

She takes her time, mulling over my words and whether she believes me or not.

"Okay. You're correct. It's the right to do. And it's a shame most people don't do it. But I still believe it is not your responsibility here."

Something is telling me her statement concerns more than Ashley being impolite. But it is not my place to point that.

"But some people do. And that must count as something, I guess. "

It's curious how her look changes from pensive to more light-hearted.

"Okay. You win this time..." she trails off, not knowing how to refer to me.

"Spencer," I supply. She hums.

"You win this time, Spencer. And being that said, I accept your apology too," she added, sipping the remaining wine from her glass.

I smile, nodding appreciatively. It's a little gesture, but I feel better after what happened.

Silence settles between us, and I take that as my cue to leave. I had already taken enough of her time.

"Uh, well. Thank you again..."

I trail off, realizing I don't know her name.

"(Y/N)," she says.

"Thank you again, (Y/N). Hope you enjoy the rest of your night."

With that said, I should get on foot to leave the venue, as I had planned to do ten minutes ago, but for some reason, my feet didn't want to move, and I kept standing there. (Y/N) look at me as if I'm going to say something else due to the lack of movement on my part.

"Are you okay?" she asks, and now I have the same question for myself.

"Yeah. Yeah. Totally okay. Sorry, I'm leaving now."

Turning in my heels, I'm about to walk away when I hear (Y/N) 's voice.

"I didn't know that, you know? And, for the record, I didn't think it was disgusting."

I stop in my tracks to look at her with a raised eyebrow. When I catch what she is referring to, my eyes cast to the floor, and my cheeks turn pink again.

"If anything, I found it educative," she adds. I try to decipher if there is some teasing in her words, but I find none. She's being oddly genuine. Oddly, because I'm not used to people saying that when referring to the things I tend to ramble about.

"Thank you," I sheepishly say, my hands finding home in my pant pockets. "People don't tell me that very often."

A puff leaves (Y/N) 's lips before she says, "Ungrateful fuckers."

I chuckle at her choice of words.

Weird. It's the first time all night that I don't want to run away from here.

"Yeah. Something like that," I agree, and she smiles. Now I'm comfortable enough to make some conversation.

"Uh, are you from Quantico?"

"Yeah. A very adrenalinal position," she prompts, and I raise an eyebrow. "Finance Division."

I can't help but snort, and she laughs. "I told you. What about you?"

"Behavioral Unit Analysis," I reply. (Y/N)' s eyes wide in recognition.

"Wow. The one and only BAU."

"You know us?"

"Sure. I wouldn't forget a unit that has its own jet. I'm the one who enters the travel expenses from all Quantico," she explains. I hum, trying to figure out the amplitude of that sole task. "Like I told you, very exciting."

She is mocking herself regarding her job. But I find it impressive for a desk job. Not all people have the skills to run financials.

"Well, I agree it is not very adrenaline but very important. I mean, we have to travel around the country all the time. Our job depends on traveling."

(Y/N) has now an amused expression on her face.

"It's nice to know someone truly values what you do. Not even our boss does it," she points before letting a deep sigh escape from her lips. "Gosh, I'm being very judgmental right now. You're going to think I spend my life complaining about everything. I do sometimes, but I'm not always like this," she explains. I shake my head.

"I'm not judging you. Everyone has the right to say what things don't like or would change about their jobs."

"Well, thanks. Although I'm sure you guys have more reasons to be concerned. You risk your life on the field every time. That's huge."

She rests the empty glass on the concrete rail, adjusting her coat around her body. The air is chiller at this time of the night.

"You know? People say that a lot. And I agree. It's a dangerous job, but it's not better than anyone's for that reason, or whatever another reason for that matter.

Her eyes are analyzing me with curiosity. I'm not sure, but it's like she's having difficulty believing what I'm saying.

"Can I ask you something, Spencer?"

"Sure."

"Why are you here tonight?"

My eyes narrow at her question. Isn't the reason obvious?

"What do you mean? It's the FBI annual gala," I point out, knowing she already knows that too. She nods.

"Precisely," she starts. "And at the risk of being impertinent, I can say this environment makes you uncomfortable. When you were with that girl talking - scratch that, when you were talking, and she looked at you, trying to devour you with her eyes - you seemed like you didn't want to be there. Above all, knowing this kind of event is basically to show off to other bureau agents, I don't think is your notion of an ideal night."

If I wasn't impressed when we started talking - which I was - I am now.

She assumes my awe as discomfort.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to overstep."

"No, no. You are okay. And let me tell you, your observation is completely accurate," I hasten to clarify.

"Yeah?" (Y/N) asks, and I nod earnestly.

"Yeah. Have you not considered applying for a position as a field agent?"

An amused laugh leaves her lips.

"No way! I would be a total disaster! And carrying a gun is not my idea of a dream job anymore," she points out, still laughing.

I chuckle, but her answer makes me think. Before I can ask for clarification, she calls me out.

"Hey, you didn't answer my question."

I didn't, although the answer is simple.

"My boss made me."

(Y/N) scoff in disbelief.

"What? Did he put a gun against your chest?"

Well, thinking better about it, maybe the answer is not that simple.

"Not quite, but you can say I felt it that way."

I tell (Y/N) how my team always worries about my lack of social interaction, which isn't that accurate if you ask me. However, some of the pressure of doing things that people my age would generally do is finally getting me and pushing me out of my comfort zone.

She listens to me with undivided attention and seems to understand what I'm talking about.

"Peer pressure, uh? I can relate to that to some extent," she agrees.

"That's why are you here tonight, too?"

My question makes her let out a deep sigh as her eyes focus on the garden beside us for a second.

"Not really. Who knows, maybe I do enjoy being here?"

(Y/N) phrases it more like a question than a statement. And I can tell she doesn't believe it either.

"Enjoying being apart from the crowd, in a lateral terrace barely illuminated and exposed to the chilly night air? I can think of several other places to do the same thing without the trouble of a gala environment."

Her cheeks turn a shade of pink, which tells me I'm right.

"Not fair, you are a certified profiler," (Y/N) complains, faking annoyance.

"And you haven't answered my question either," I remind her. She rolls her eyes playfully.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. Well, let's say I came here to prove myself something. Spoiler alert: I failed. That's why I have been mostly spending the night here."

I hum, knowing she is vague in explaining, but I'm not in a place to pry.

"Look, I would tell you more about it, but I'm sure you have to return inside. Your teammates are surely wondering where you are."

I can't help but snort, and she raises an eyebrow at my reaction.

"I'm sorry, but your assumption is far from reality. Considering what happened inside, they think I ran home. What I was actually doing before spotting you here," I admit.

"Ha! So it's true I'm holding you back but for a different motive," she triumphantly concludes.

"I didn't say that!" I complain with a hint of exasperation, to which she breathly laughs.

"I know. I know. I'm messing with you. Honestly? There are two reasons why I'm avoiding this topic right now. First, I don't think you want to hear the mess my life is these days, and second, I would kill for a coffee and a sandwich-" she pauses, stifling a chuckle before continuing. "Considering oysters are out of the table."

"Oh, come on!" I groan, seeing how she falls into a fit of laughter, so contagious that I can't help but join her.

"Sorry, sorry. Not very kind of me, I know. But I couldn't help it," she apologizes, still giggling. I bit my lower lip in amusement.

"Alright. It's okay. It's frankly funny," I admit, my words leaving my mouth before I can think of them. "Well, I could tell you more of those moments in my life - many of them - if you let me join you with the coffee and sandwich. I know a good place that is open at this hour. And you can tell me what kind of thing you wanted to prove yourself tonight."

Spencer Reid. Is that you?

I'm surprised by my sudden confidence, and it seems (Y/N) is, too. She hums, scrubbing her fingers under her chin while contemplating my offer.

"Okay, I'll take it. But don't tell me later that I didn't warn you about the mess of my life," she points her index finger at me.

"I won't. I promise."

Grabbing a cab is relatively easy since the FBI considered transportation outside the venue for people who won't be driving.

The fifteen-minute ride allows us to have a light conversation. That's how I know (Y/N) has been in the bureau for almost four years. Being an Accountant by profession and with a Master of Science in Finance from Georgetown, she was recruited for the FBI precisely considering her outstanding skills in the financial department.

She asks me about my trajectory in the FBI as well. I tell her about Gideon and the start of my life at the BAU.

Arriving at our destination, I insist on paying for the ride despite her resistance. I assured her that she could invite me to the coffee.

It must be a curious image for the patrons to see two fully gala-dressed people stepping inside a diner at eleven pm.

We sit on a bench facing each other.

A girl who can't hide her curious expression comes to take our order. As promised, (Y/N) asks for two coffees and two sandwiches.

"So, Agent Gideon recruited you for the FBI. Why did you accept? I would have thought you would be more comfortable in academics," (Y/N) asks, stirring a spoon of sugar in her coffee.

"I thought the same at the time. But Gideon saw something I didn't. He knew I wouldn't settle with learning and teaching for the rest of my life, and I needed it to be useful beyond that environment."

I explain how profiling has helped us to catch unsubs around the country and how worthy it is for me. I can't think of myself doing anything else. (Y/N) listen to me with raptor interest; it is nice to be heard that way.

"You know? I haven't heard someone speak passionately about their work in a long time. It's good you feel that way," she says with a hint of longing that doesn't go unnoticed by me.

"It is bold of me to assume you don't like what you do?"

Maybe I'm overstepping, but I'm curious. And (Y/N) doesn't seem bothered by my question. Shifting in her seat, she leans, resting her elbows on the table.

"Not bold at all, mister profiler," she teases. "But not always has been that way. I would say I started to feel uncomfortable not long ago. A couple of months, perhaps?"

I hum, thinking about what could have made her feel that way.

"It has to do with why you were at the gala tonight?"

She chuckles, nodding.

"Kind of. Remember I told you I wanted to prove myself something? Well, it has to do with what has been bothering me," she prefaces.

(Y/N) relates how things have gone well since she got into the FBI. She felt respected, wanting to do many things and learn everything she could.

That's how she met her boyfriend.

"I wasn't looking for a romantic relationship, much less at work. I wanted to be professional, separating my private life from my job. But he was so attentive and supportive. He always told me he was happy I felt fulfilled with what I was doing. He was so perfect I thought I had found my soulmate."

I don't know exactly where she is going, but sure as hell, that prick wasn't her soulmate.

"What happened?"

"One day, I wasn't good enough for him anymore. After two years of relationship, he started with harsh comments and criticism about everything I did and didn't do."

A humorless chuckle escapes her lips.

"I should have noticed. By then, he was promoted from desk duty and junior trainee to field agent. He had always wanted it, and I felt so happy for him. But that changed everything."

(Y/N) tells me about how her boyfriend stopped listening to her, and instead, every topic of conversation turned to his job, implying - sometimes saying it explicitly - that it was more important than hers.

"It's not only the fact we stopped communicating; it was realizing how low he thought about me and my accomplishments. At first, I tried to understand. Of course, he was dazed by this new life, full of danger and adrenaline. I could understand it. But when he started comparing me to his female colleagues and the things they were doing, way more important than the ones I was doing, it made me insecure."

(Y/N) takes time to collect her thoughts, sipping the remaining coffee from the cup.

"The insecurities got the best of me. At some point, I just wanted to run away and leave it all behind. I knew it was irrational, but I believed him. I even thought about changing my career and training to be a field agent. Good thing we broke up before I could do that," she admits.

"What stopped you? I mean, like you're telling this, you were going to change for him," I ask. She cast her gaze, averting mine. Her cheeks turn pink.

"I don't like to admit it, but the reason we broke up wasn't because I realized how stupid the situation was. We broke up because he cheated on me. I discovered it two months ago, breaking the camel's back."

Fuck. That prick was not meant to be her soulmate. And I feel the urge to have one or two words with him right now.

"I'm sorry." It's the only thing I manage to say. (Y/N) shakes her head.

"Nah. If anything, I'm glad it happened. Even if it broke my heart."

"He was at the gala, right?" (Y/N) nods.

"With the coworker that he chose to cheat on me. His current girlfriend."

Everything makes perfect sense now. (Y/N) was trying to prove to herself that the wound had healed. And from what she said earlier, it didn't turn that way.

She bitterly chuckles.

"Yeah. It's pathetic, I know."

Spencer, do something.

"No! It's not. Unfortunately, cheating is not uncommon, particularly in men. In 2020, IFS released a report stating that 20% of men have admitted to cheating, and only 10% have. In 2021, the Health Testing Centers asked 441 people who admitted infidelity to their partners and asked how long it took for them to tell their partners about it. 47.7% of the respondents told their partner within a week that they'd cheated. 26.6% of those have waited for a month, and 25.7% took six months or longer to tell their partner about the infidelity. And 60% of them said the affair started in a work environment."

And then again, the rambling. But instead of giving me a blank look, (Y/N) seems to consider what I just said.

"Maybe I shouldn't feel so bad about it then. Anyway, it hasn't been easy to get out of this. I thought going to the gala and forcing myself to see them together would be enough to get a closure," she reflects.

"But it still hurts," I supply, making (Y/N) hum.

"Yeah. I'm not ready, and it sucks. Not for him, but for me. I hate feeling so out of place, so dissatisfied with everything," (Y/N) retorts, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest.

Her eyes look sad, and I want to do something to fix it, although I know that nothing I can say would be enough. Maybe joking will at least get her off the topic.

"And there I was talking about oysters all night," I sigh, feigning disapproval. Genuine laughter escapes her lips.

I didn't know that making her laugh could fill my heart so much with satisfaction.

"That's life," she adds, now checking the time on her cell phone. "I think I'll get going," she announces, collecting her things and preparing to stand.

"Can I walk you home? It's very late already," I ask.

"Oh no, don't worry about me. My building is not far from here."

I know she doesn't want to cause trouble, but it makes me uneasy about what could happen to her walking alone at this hour.

Thank you, BAU.

"Please?" I insist. (Y/N) raises an eyebrow.

"Aren't you already fed up with me?" she asks curiously.

"Non yet," I grin.

Not having the energy to put up a fight, she accepts my offer, and after paying the bill, we leave the restaurant.

The night is colder now, and both of us walk in silence with our hands in our pockets.

I can't know what exactly she's thinking, but at least I can't stop thinking about tonight. For someone like me, it's hard to fall into spontaneity, but with (Y/N), it wasn't a problem. That amazes me, and I like it at the same time.

When she stops walking, I get out of my thoughts.

"Here," she says, looking at the building we are standing by. "Thank you for walking with me," (Y/N) states, smiling. It's the same warm smile she offered when I found her on the venue's terrace a couple of hours ago.

"Of course. It's the less I could do."

And I mean it. She saved my night in so many ways she doesn't even know.

"Well, I need to say it was a pleasure to share this shit of a night with you and turned it less shitty," she says, grinning and satisfied with her remark.

I laugh at her statement. I couldn't have said it better.

"Thank you. It's the best compliment I have had in a long time," I joke, making (Y/N) giggle.

"You are welcome."

I have the question on the tip of my tongue. I would love to see her again, but what if she doesn't think it's worth it? I opt for the vaguest thing that comes to mind.

"See you around?"

(Y/N) thinks about it for a moment. Am I being too obvious? Before falling into a spiral, she smiles at me again.

"Yeah, sure. Why not."

I can't help but feel the excitement pouring from me.

"Great! Well, I - I'll go now. Good night (Y/N)," I say goodbye, slowly walking backward.

"Good night, Spencer," she retorts before entering the building.

I watch her disappear behind the door, and I think that while neither of us got what we wanted, maybe we got what we needed.

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

Next -> Part 2: It Was Horrible Until It Wasn’t

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A/N 2: I'm excited to know your thoughts about this!

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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #dr spencer reid #amanda perry williams #aperrywilliams #spencer reid fic #spencer reid one shot

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bakubunny · 8 months

Text

personal trainer!bkg

tags: oral sex (m receiving), rough sex, plus size fem!reader

18+, mdni. minors & ageless blogs will be blocked.

thinking abt trainer!bakugou who falls for one of his clients. you’re nervous because you didn’t expect the best trainer in the city to be hot as hell and have pretty, red eyes and how is he so much bigger than you? but he tells himself he’s not nervous at all when he sees your chubby cheeks, thick thighs, and pretty smile.

trainer!bakugou who gets a little pissy inside when you say your only goal is to “lose weight.” “that ain’t gonna cut it with me, sweetheart. gimme a better reason. i know you got at least one.” he wouldn’t usually press the issue, but part of him was annoyed. and truthfully, “to get stronger and gain confidence,” was a better answer anyways.

trainer!bakugou who’s not oblivious and notices how flustered you get whenever he touches you during instruction. he stays professional; he’s not gonna bring it up or do more than absolutely necessary. but if he’s honest, sometimes he has to hold back a smirk.

trainer!bakugou who simultaneously pushes you a little harder than you think he should but also goes easy on you, too. who celebrates every success you have with a bigger grin than usual, but no one who knows him is stupid enough to point that out.

trainer!bakugou who you’ve assumed is constantly flushed because he has rosy cheeks, but it’s really because has to keep his thoughts from wandering whenever you’re around… especially when you wear those damn leggings that fit just right. he knows better than to stare unnecessarily, but he also has to do his job because you’re paying him good money for his work.

trainer!bakugou who tries to ignore the fact that he finds himself going home painfully hard after every session. who tells himself he’s just horny, but his thoughts always wander towards you when he takes his dick out. he’s definitely wondered if you go home and do the same thing he does, thinking of what you’d look and sound like fucking yourself, moaning at the thought of him.

trainer!bakugou who (probably) has no idea that you go home with ruined panties every time you see him because the sound of his voice and the look in his eye and the heat of his hands is too hard to ignore. you’d be absolute mortified if he ever knew you went home and immediately grabbed something to fill your aching cunt.

trainer!bakugou who’s more bothered than he should be when you tell him you have to stop training with him because you can’t afford the extra cost. he knows he’s about to do the stupidest thing he’s ever done if it ends badly, but he does it anyways. “well, if… if you want, we can workout together sometime. no trainin’ or nothin’.” he can see the smile on your face, yet somehow he’s surprised when you say yes. “you know what? yeah. i can do that. some company would be nice.”

trainer!bakugou who definitely isn’t your trainer anymore, but he seems to find a lot more excuses to “help” than he used to… even when he knows you don’t need it. one day, you’re feeling bold and call him out with a playful look. “y’know, you said you’re ‘just trying to help,’ but i think you’re looking for an excuse to put your hands on me.”

trainer!bakugou who sees the glint in your eye and takes his chance. “yeah, i am. i like the way your body feels. ‘s that a problem, pretty girl?” he watches your entire face turn red and he smirks. “i think you know i’d be disappointed if you didn’t,” you offer. “then we should find a better place for me to do this, huh?”

trainer!bakugou whose hands are rough and strong and grip you tightly as he holds you up against a wall near his front door. his kisses are hot and fervent as he groans, grinding into you.

trainer!bakugou who lets you push him back onto his bed, pull down his shorts, and do what you’ve been thinking about for weeks as your lips graze his hard cock. you moan from the taste of his skin and how perfectly he doesn’t even come close to fitting in your hand. soon, you’re making a spit covered mess of yourself as you suck his dick. you don’t even care because he’s moaning and panting, bucking his hips into your throat, his hand in your hair.

trainer!bakugou who pulls you off his cock with a groan in his throat. he shoves you back onto the bed and takes your leggings and panties off in one fell swoop. he’s kissing and groping his way across your skin, eager to get any part of you he can in his mouth as he takes off your clothes.

trainer!bakugou who’s stretching your pretty cunt out so perfectly with his cock as he fucks you hard. your breath catches after every moan when he hits a sweet spot, one that makes you shudder. “this is what you fuckin’ needed, isn’t it, princess? needed my cock for so long, haven’t ya?” he says with hot breath. you nod dumbly, lost for words.

trainer!bakugou who can’t get enough of you and your perfect, soft stomach and the way your tits move. his head is spinning from the way you’re squeezing and pulling him back in with every thrust. the way you’re moaning louder the harder your hips meet makes him grip you tighter.

trainer!bakugou who feels your fingernails dragging down his back and groans into your skin. who tells you everything he’s held back as he watches your eyes roll. “d’you have any fuckin’ clue how long i’ve wanted this? how many times i’ve stroked my cock thinkin’ of your ass and thighs? thinkin’ of this pretty little pussy? hmm?”

trainer!bakugou who’s determined to never let you forget that he knew he wanted you the day he met you and not a day later.

banners by @cafekitsune.

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 4 months

Text

Honey Girl. Chapter Seven.

chapter one. chapter two. chapter three. chapter four. chapter five. chapter six. chapter eight. chapter nine. series masterlist. the playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. At least, that’s what you and Bucky keep telling yourselves.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption.

Word Count - 4.8k

Author's Note - I can only apologise for the delay on this one angels!! january blues, a crazy work schedule, writers block.. they all came to play at the same time. but chapter seven is finally here!! I hope you enjoy it. thank you for the continued love on this - words can’t describe how incredible it is.

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

“Why aren’t you more surprised?”

Stella simply shrugs, sipping her cappuccino as if she has all the time in the world.

“Babe, with all due respect… I’ve been waiting for you to initiate this conversation for like two months.”

You look at her incredulously, fiddling nervously with a chip in the handle of your coffee cup.

“…Why? How?”

She smiles softly, reaching for your hand across the table.

“You’re miserable.”

You take a deep breath, and then another. After the fifth one, you find the courage to meet her eyes.

“How did you know?”

“Because I know you. You’re a hell of an actress, I’ll give you that.”

“It’s not you-”

“I know. Hey, I know. You don’t have to explain yourself.”

“I do.”

She waits for you, patient as ever. You’d be lying if you said the guilt wasn’t eating you up, slowly but surely from the inside out. You feel like you’ve let her down, disappointing the one person who’s given you your dream.

You realise, suddenly, that you haven't told anyone the full truth about everything. Not your Mom, not your Dad, not Lacie. Your Tethering, Bucky, the move to California - all your feelings and emotions over the past how ever many months have been bottled up and stowed away on a shelf, never to be opened. But you have the urge, now, to unscrew the cap and pour it out across the table, regardless of the mess.

So, you do.

"It's not you. You've given me everything I could have ever wanted, Stel, and I couldn't be more grateful. You know that, right?"

She nods, squeezing your hand.

"It's just been hard... emotionally. So, I, the thing is, I just..."

You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.

"I'm Tethered. I have a soulmate, and he lives back home. We found out literally right before you called me and asked about the business. I couldn't turn you down, I knew that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. I couldn't just let it pass me by. I knew we could do this, me and you, together. And I thought I’d be able to cope.”

You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.

“Being away from Bucky has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. It’s like… I can’t breathe properly without him. Food isn’t as flavourful, colours aren’t as bright, the sun isn’t as warm. The separation is actually having physical effects that I’m not sure I can handle anymore.”

You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.

“I’ve held out for as long as I possibly can. I was hoping that maybe it’d pass, that we’d get used to it and it’d all wear off. But it hasn’t. If anything, it’s worse than ever. The separation is ruining us both.”

You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re going to tell me not to apologise, but I am. I’m sorry. You’ve given me everything and I’m just… quitting on you. I love this job so much, Stella. I can’t even find the words to describe how much. But I think either me or Bucky will break soon. And I have to prevent that from happening.”

You inhale.

Stella looks at you with so much compassion, you fight the urge to burst into tears.

You exhale.

“Listen to me, okay? You are one of the best damn bakers I have ever met in my life. No one in culinary school even came close to you. I always knew that I wanted you on my team, by my side, in my corner - in the kitchen, and everywhere else. But-"

You chew your bottom lip, wincing when you taste copper.

“We don’t have to be in each other’s pockets. We can be business partners and not see each other everyday. These are the joys of modern technology, babe. We can call, text, video chat, and then schedule in person meetings when we can. If anyone can make a cross country partnership work, it’s us. I mean, come on.”

The weight lifts from your shoulders, slowly but surely. A glowing, molten warmth trickles through your veins, hopeful and real and alive.

“And this,” she picks up your business plan, all printed and pretty. “This is air fucking tight. I’m not saying you picked the wrong career, but… business could definitely be your Plan B.”

You laugh, ignoring the way your voice cracks slightly, still choked with emotion.

“Babe, I was going to franchise the business eventually anyway. Sure, this is a little earlier than I first thought, but why the hell not? We’re successful, we’ve done so well… what’s stopping us? We know we can do this. And I trust you. So much.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, easing your death grip on her hand ever so slightly. “I thought I was gonna ruin everything.”

“You haven’t ruined anything, I promise you. This is a good thing.”

She thinks for a moment, lost in her own thoughts. Suddenly, she grins at you, nosy and mischievous.

“So a soulmate, huh?”

You groan, burying your face in your hands - but you can’t fight the smile that spreads across your cheeks.

“Yeah. It’s been… complicated.”

“He’s that super hot guy that came to see you, right? The one that looks like he could be a model?”

Laughing, you nod, making mental note to relay this to Bucky on the phone later.

“How did it happen? Was it like, a stranger on the street moment?”

“Nope,” you recall fondly. “We knew each other already. He’s my Dad’s best friend.”

Her jaw drops open, eyes flickering across your face.

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Holy shit, babe.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s amazing. Shit, no wonder you’ve been under so much stress. What did your Dad say?”

“He… doesn’t know.”

“What?”

“We need to tell him, I know we do, but it’s just so complicated. I’m worried that it’ll change everything, and not for the better.”

It’s been eating away at you, lately. The fact that your parents don’t know originally made perfect sense, but now? It’s been almost a year. You’ve never kept anything from them for that long. Now, you’re worried that you’ll never be able to undo the damage of lying and keeping secrets from the two people you always promised never to do that to.

"Look, I know I'm not exactly qualified to give out soulmate advice, but... you can't change this. It's literally been written in the stars. Your parents will understand, okay? But the longer you wait to tell them, the worse it'll be."

“Yeah. You’re right. It’s just - it’s tough. It’s gonna change everything, forever.”

“But isn’t that the beauty of it? It’s going to change everything, forever.”

You jump out of your seat and wrap your arms around Stella, holding onto her as tightly as you can. She hugs you back fiercely, speaking a thousand words without saying anything at all.

“Proud of you,” she murmurs into your hair.

“For what?” you laugh.

“Putting yourself first. Your health, your mental wellbeing, all of it. I know it wasn’t easy.”

“Love you,” you whisper, fighting back tears of relief.

“Love you too, my baker extraordinaire.”

You sit back down and take a breath, deep and full. Relaxing into your chair, you allow yourself to finally think about the next steps.

“So, I was thinking about going home and scouting out locations. I have that list of places that you read over in the business plan, but I thought of a couple more last night a few miles further out. I’ve pre prepped a few days worth of our best sellers, so you should be good without me.”

“Of course, babe. I’ve circled a couple where I really liked the look of the listings you’ve printed, and written a couple of notes for you to look over - just logistical stuff. Go back home, see your family and your soulmate,” she smirks, raising her eyebrows suggestively, “and just relax. God knows the stress lately has taken a couple years off your life. Please, get those years back on the beach or with your man or something.”

You laugh, shaking your head. She’s right, though. The stress has been resting stagnant in your muscles, tight and wound, making everything harder. You can’t wait to sit on the sand in Bucky’s arms and feel the tension melt from your body.

“You’re the best, Stella. You know that right?”

“So I’ve been told. Many, many times.”

Hours later, Bucky watches you on video call, laptop propped up on the dresser as you pack your bags excitedly. He hasn’t stopped smiling since he picked up, anticipation of the future lighting up his bones.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You show up at your parents house without warning.

You thought about calling first, but decided it’d be much more fun to surprise them. It’s a Friday evening, and you know they’ll both be sat out on the back deck, drinking wine and recapping their weeks. It’s getting warmer on the East Coast, the sounds of spring and summer slowly filtering through.

Your Mom throws open the door, her face lighting up with glee.

“Babygirl!”

She throws her arms around you, rocking you back and forth so forcefully you’re worried you might fall over.

“My baby,” she exclaims, beaming grin almost blinding you. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“It’s kind of a long story. I’ll tell you all about it.”

She grabs your face in her hands, forcing you to look her in the eyes.

“Are you okay?”

You nod, smiling as the setting sun warms your back.

“Yeah, Mama. I am.”

She believes you. For the first time in a long time, you believe you too.

“Come on. Your Dad is gonna be so excited to see you.”

You leave your bags in the car, prioritising seeing the man who’s currently shaking his hips to the soft salsa music that’s playing.

“Nice moves, Casanova.”

He whips his head around, laughing when he sees you stood against the doorframe watching.

“You like em? I need a partner, babygirl! Come on!”

He grabs your hands, pulling you further into the yard so you have more space. You take up a terrible ballroom dance posture with him, cackling as he dips you backwards and almost drops you.

“Don’t kill my baby, please Jack!” your Mom calls from the kitchen window.

She returns with a glass of pink wine in her hand, gesturing for you to come and get it. Your Dad spins you over to her, steadying your shoulders when you trip over his shoes.

“It’s like The Universe knew you were coming to us tonight, darling. We opened the strawberry wine and everything.”

“My favourite.”

You get comfy on the loveseat, sitting across from your parents who are pressed together on the outdoor sofa. The wine is sweet and sugary and exactly what you needed.

“So, what are you doing here, kiddo?”

“It’s a little… complicated. But the good kind of complicated, I think.”

You start at the beginning. Well, almost. You leave out the part about finding Bucky, waiting for him to be with you when you tell that part of the story. You agreed that you’d talk to your parents about your relationship together, and you’re not about to break that promise. You do, however, explain everything else to them.

They listen carefully, nodding and smiling to let you know they’re still with you. When you talk about the difficulties you’ve faced, they wear matching frowns as your Mom fights back tears. Eventually, you sit in silence, waiting for their reaction.

“I wish you’d said something sooner.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just… I thought I could do it on my own.”

“Honey, you never have to go through anything alone. That’s what we’re here for - we’re like, your built in therapists. Both me and your Dad would have happily listened if you’d called us, no matter the time or place.”

“Thank you. Both of you.”

“So this means you’re moving home?”

You nod, trying to contain the excitement bubbling up inside of you.

“Well it’s a good job we didn’t end up renting your apartment, huh?”

“You didn’t?”

“We thought about it, but it didn’t feel right. And we wanted to see you settle down in California first, just in case. I don’t either of us were ready to see someone else in that place. It’s yours.”

“You big softie,” you tease, nudging your Dad with your foot. He grabs it and squeezes, laughing when you squirm out of his grip.

“Well this is a cause for celebration, isn’t it?”

When you were younger, you used to get embarrassed that your Mom would throw parties for everything. Now, it’s one of your favourite things about her. She’s taught you to embrace the joy of the little things in life.

“What are you thinking, Mama?”

“Tomorrow night, a few friends. I’ll make a big paella, we can drink wine, play cards… what do you say?”

“Sounds perfect.”

And it does. The ease of being back home has calmed you down, untied the knots in your shoulders. You feel warmed by love, from the inside out.

You leave your parent’s house, promising to make a dessert of some kind for tomorrow. As you drive away, you suddenly realise that you’re headed in the wrong direction. You’re not going home. You’re going to the person that feels like home.

Bucky.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

He’s waiting for you on his front porch when you pull up.

“Hi, honey baby.”

“Hi, handsome.”

You launch yourself into his arms, savouring the warmth rolling off of him in waves. He smells like fresh linen and sea salt and all your future plans.

“You felt me coming, didn’t you?”

“From a mile off.”

He’s grinning, beaming in all directions.

“Good job it wasn’t a surprise visit, huh?”

“There’s no such thing anymore.”

“Good.”

He grabs your face in his work rough hands, gazing at you as if you’re the sun. You realise, suddenly, that you are. You are the one thing that his world revolves around. And he is yours. Forever.

“You gonna kiss me, Buck, or just stare at me, hmm?”

He chuckles before leaning in to press his lips to yours. You sigh in contentment and pull him closer by his shirt, tilting your head back to let him slip his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like scotch and spearmint, a perfect picture of his evening.

“Have you been drinking alone, cowboy?”

“Needed some liquid courage. Knew you’d come by.”

“I make you nervous, huh?”

The filthy smirk written across your face sends electricity crackling across his skin, the hairs on his arms standing up.

“Thought you’d have figured that out by now.”

“You’re really blowing up my ego, you know. I make the Bucky Barnes nervous. Who’d have thought?”

He shuts you up by kissing you again, snaking his hands around your back to plaster your bodies together. You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging on it slightly.

“You’re letting your hair grow.”

“You like it long.”

You stop for a moment, watching his face carefully.

“Yeah. I do. How’d you know?”

“You pull it more when it’s long. Can feel how much you like it.”

“You’re a menace,” you laugh. “How about you take me inside, and I’ll show you just how much I like it? Unless you wanna give your neighbours front row seats…”

He chuckles and shakes his head before throwing you over his shoulder, laughing harder when you start shrieking. He carries you over the threshold, a beautiful prediction of years to come.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You and Bucky spend the evening in his kitchen with the windows open, watching the setting sun. The gentle ocean breeze flows through the room, tussling Bucky’s chocolate brown hair and glinting off the ice in his rocks glass.

“You want me to come with you tomorrow, when you scout locations? I’ll be your chauffeur, if you like.”

“What about work?”

“I’m the boss, baby.”

“So you keep reminding me.”

He kicks you lightly under the table, laughing when you stick your tongue out at him.

“Yeah, Buck. I’d love it if you came with. You can use your contractor knowledge and help me out.”

“It’s a date. You want me to bring my clipboard? Tape measure? Mechanical pencil?”

“You gonna bring your talking machinery too, Bob The Builder?”

Bucky stands from his chair and pulls yours out, wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you up. He spins you around before putting you down and dragging you up the stairs, kicking his bedroom door open.

He throws you onto the bed unceremoniously, chuckling when you almost bounce off. You toss your shirt at his face, before shucking off your jeans and doing the same thing. He catches them with ease, winking at you before undressing himself.

He crawls up your body, kissing any skin he can find as he goes. He starts at your ankle, before moving to your knee, your thigh, your hip, your stomach, your chest, your neck, and eventually your lips. You’re almost shaking, alive with the anticipation of having every inch of Bucky pressed against you.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he rasps into your ear. “I’ll give it to you. Anything.”

“Just want you.”

“Need to get you ready first,” he murmurs, fingers trailing between your legs. His breath hitches when he feels how wet you are.

“Oh honey,” he groans. “You been like this all night? Hmm?”

“Since I first saw you waiting for me.”

He groans again, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

“Please, Buck. Just wanna feel you.”

Who is he to deny you when you ask so damn pretty?

“You’re killing me,” he mutters against your skin.

Bucky slides into you with one smooth thrust, biting down on your shoulder as he does it. You shudder at the feeling, and at the thought of having the imprint of his teeth on you later.

You both gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in to you. You loop your legs around his waist, heels digging into his ass to press him even closer.

“Fuck me,” you choke out. “Need it, Buck.”

“My needy girl,” he chuckles lowly. “Gonna give you everything.”

Bucky retracts his hips before thrusting back into you, deep and full. You whine, and he’s convinced the sound will never be matched. It’s like angel song, rose tinted and heavenly.

He fucks you into the mattress, long, slow thrusts that make you want to cry a little. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so connected to him - every single part of you touching his, bodies plastered together and souls intertwined.

He presses open mouthed kisses into the crook of your neck, right into your sweet spot. When he feels you getting close, he dances his fingers down your body and circles your clit, languid but precise. Your back arches as you find your release, clawing your nails down his back and locking your ankles around his hips.

“Oh fuck, honey - fuck.”

Bucky finishes with a shudder, sinking his teeth back into your shoulder. His raspy groans hit your ears just right, sweat dripping down onto your dewy skin.

“Love you, baby. Fuck, I love you.”

You’re both panting, trying to catch your breath as you come down from your highs.

“I love you too,” you giggle, pressing kisses to his damp forehead.

He collapses his weight onto you, chuckling when you groan. You push him off so he can lie next to you, strong arm thrown over your stomach as he pulls you in close.

You stay tangled for a while, letting the breeze from the window cool you both down. Bucky traces absentminded patterns across your back, rough fingertips sending goosebumps over your skin.

“I’m excited for tomorrow,” you murmur, keeping the volume low.

“Me too. Feels like a big step for our future, doesn’t it?”

“I just never imagined I’d have… this. You, the job I’ve always dreamed of… it doesn’t feel real. I mean, we’re going to look at places for a second location of my business. Who ever could have predicted I’d say that sentence?”

“Everything works out the way it’s supposed to. I told you that, that night on the beach. Before we knew. Remember?”

“I remember,” you smile, recalling that evening. You’d felt so inexplicably connected to Bucky that day. Little did you know what was to follow.

You fall asleep wrapped up in Bucky’s arms, warm and content.

You’ve never known happiness like it.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The day flies by with Bucky by your side.

You’re a little out of your depth, admittedly. You don’t know much about real estate, or what makes a viable location for a bakery. But Bucky helps - explaining what to avoid, warning signs to look out for, checking out all of the boring stuff like gas mains and water pipes and backup generators. He never patronises you, even when you look at him like a deer in headlights. He clarifies himself when you become unsure, laying out explanations carefully and simply. He’s the perfect right hand man.

“You almost ready, honey?”

“Yeah Buck, give me one second!”

You walk into the kitchen where Bucky’s leaning against the counter, beer in hand. He’s in loose jeans and a linen button up, the white shirt beautifully showing off his tanned skin. He’s got several buttons undone, toned chest peeking through. He looks effortlessly perfect.

You stop in front of him, fixing the buckle on your sandals. You look up at Bucky to find him staring at you, open mouthed.

“You alright, handsome?”

“You look… you look - fuck, you look gorgeous.”

Heat rises up your skin, still so susceptible to his compliments.

“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he chuckles into your mouth.

Bucky rests a hand against the base of your throat, pulling you into him. His other hand plays with the hem of your dress, your skin burning where his fingers brush. You kiss him back harder, groaning when he nips at your bottom lip. He sucks on your tongue, and your knees buckle.

You pull back suddenly, putting three feet of distance between you.

“We need to go.”

Your hair is tousled, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as you try to regain your composure. Bucky smirks at you, laughing when you flip him off.

“Come on. My parents and paella await us.”

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Your Mom has done it again.

Golden lights adorn the beams of the deck, the table littered with flowers and wine glasses begging to be filled. There’s already a few people scattered around the yard, chatting and laughing in the warm evening air.

“Oh baby, you look so beautiful.”

Your Mom engulfs you in a hug, pulling back to look at you from a distance. You’re wearing a yellow sundress, form fitting in all the right places. The skirt blows in the gentle breeze, fanning around you like an angels halo.

“This place looks amazing, Mama. I made you a tropical tart - it’s pineapple and coconut, with a mango coulis.”

“Oh, it’s gorgeous. I’ll put it in the fridge and get you some wine, honey. Buck, you want wine or beer?”

“Wine, please Lori. You need a hand?”

“If you’re offering,” she winks, laughing when he pokes her in the side as they leave towards the kitchen.

“Your father says you’re moving back home.”

You turn around to see Cora looking at you expectantly. You haven’t seen her since the incident that evening months ago.

“Uh, yeah. I love California, but I think I outgrew it after culinary school.”

She nods at you in faux sympathy, overbearing and sickly sweet.

“Aw, sweetie. Sometimes, things just don’t work out the way we hoped, huh?”

“Mhmm,” you hum noncommittally. “Yeah, I guess.”

You look for an exit, but she rubs your arm in support, pulling you back.

“I saw you today, you know.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes! Down on Maple, by the corner. You were with Bucky.”

You freeze suddenly, blood running cold. You and Bucky are always affectionate, whether you mean to be or not. It’s just the way it is, being alongside your soulmate. Of course, Cora doesn’t know this. All she’s seen is you, out in town with your Dad’s best friend, looking cosier than platonic.

Your ears are ringing. You wonder, for a second, if you’re experiencing deja vu.

“Yeah, he… he has contracting experience. Just needed a second opinion. I’m no builder, after all.”

You force a laugh, willing the ground to swallow you up.

“You two are friends? You seem pretty close.”

She’s watching you, waiting for a reaction. You don’t give it to her.

“I’ve known him for a while, I see him often. He’s a good friend to my Dad, so you can imagine we know each other pretty well by now.��

“Yeah. It sure looked like it.”

You’re wracking your brain, trying to understand what she saw. Then it hits you.

On the corner of Maple is a florist’s, alive with blooming flowers and plants of every colour. You’d been admiring the tulips when Bucky had wrapped his arms around you from behind, whispering in your ear about how you’re the prettiest flower of all, honey.

There’s no running away from this. She’s caught you, in broad daylight.

“We’re friends,” you reiterate, praying for mercy.

You shoot her a fake smile before turning on your heel, making a beeline for the kitchen to find your Mom. When you get there, you gulp down your entire glass of strawberry wine, begging the sugar to lift your mood and calm your nerves.

The rest of the night goes off fairly smoothly.

You eat paella and fruit tart, drink wine, laugh with your parents and their friends. Bucky occasionally slips a hand beneath the table, squeezing your thigh in silent reassurance. You tangle your fingers with his for a moment before letting go, praying everyone else is none the wiser.

Every time Cora opens her mouth, your chest constricts a little. But she seems to have learnt her lesson somewhat, only speaking to tell obnoxiously long and tangent filled stories and offer comments no one asked for. Eventually, you all disperse from the table, making conversation elsewhere.

“What’s on your mind?” a low voice rasps in your ear.

You’re sat on the swing in the corner of the garden, watching the world go by. Bucky snakes his arm over the back of it, fingertips brushing your shoulder.

“Cora saw us today. Think she knows.”

“She’s a fucking nuisance.”

You laugh, the sound vibrating through Bucky’s bones.

“Yeah, she is. She’s also a gossip. She won’t keep her mouth shut for long if she thinks she’s sitting on something newsworthy.”

He thinks for a moment, taking a deep breath.

“So we tell them.”

You lean back into Bucky’s arm, inhaling the familiar scent of peace.

“We should do it as soon as possible.”

“How about tomorrow?”

You nod, biting your glossy lips.

“Yeah. We need to do it sometime, and we’ve delayed the inevitable for long enough. We’ll do it tomorrow.”

Bucky nudges closer to you, so your sides are pressed together.

“It’ll all work out the way it’s supposed to, honey girl.”

You smile gently.

“I know. I don’t think I believed you the first time you said that to me. But I do now.”

“You and me against the world, baby.”

“You and me against the world, Buck.”

It truly feels like it, at the moment. You and Bucky against the world.

tag list part one

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk

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lovelybrooke · 3 months

Text

Platonic Yandere Hazbin Hotel Concept (Pt.3)

I know this says Hazbin Hotel but this mostly concerns Helluva boss. Please check out my immortal reader au masterlist and read part 1 and 2 before reading this.

masterlist

---

Getting back to regular life was hard.

Your mother made you go back to school quickly after you woke up from your coma. People were nosey, asking too many questions that you could barely answer, and on top of that your mind was still racing with everything that had happened. It all felt so real, you didn't expect to wake up. But ultimately you fell back into a routine quickly. Going to school, going to work, going home, and waking up to do it all again. It was hard to accept that everything was just in your head, but you moved on.

All you wanted to focus on was catching up with school, but that was difficult with your peers and their questions. You guess that's what happens when you get hit by a car. But you just wanted all of them to shut up and leave you alone. It was all so much that you were leaving work early constantly because everyone seemed to know you. You spent most of your time back at home taking care of your mother.

While after finishing cleaning up one night and finally getting your mother in bed, you went to go take your medicine. While most of your wounds healed shockingly fast, you still needed medication to keep you stable until further notice. Maybe you weren't paying attention, maybe you got confused and picked up the wrong bottle, but when you went to bed, you didn't wake up.

Well that wasn't correct, because when you did, you were back in Hell, but you didn't recognized any of this. You knew this was Pride, but noting by the fact that you've never really left the hotel alone, that was the best you got. You didn't want to be here, you just wanted to go back home, you didn't want to go through this again. You watched with an anxious breath as Imps passed you on the street, and as a kept looking around, you noticed you were in front of a building, so that's were you went, attempting to hide away from everything.

The building looked normal for the most part, kinda dirty if you were being honest, but it was better than being gawked at in the streets. You were hoping to find a way back to the hotel, just find the people you knew. As you sit in the lobby of building you hugged yourself and sighed, barely hearing the door open. You wanted to laugh at how familiar this whole situation was, but the noise wouldn't come out, and all you could hear was "who are you, sweetie?"

It was a female imp, right next to her another male imp, who looked way more concerned than her. "Millie, is that a human." He whispered to the other, but you could still very much hear him. Honestly, you were finding it hard to care about their shock, you've already been through this before you don't need to hear it again.

"Excuse me, yeah—I'm sorry, could you tell me where I am?" You interrupting their muttering. They both instantly stop talking, looking at you for a few seconds before the female imp moves towards you and takes your hand, ignoring your question.

"Could you come with me?" You didn't really have a choice, so you go with the two into another room, this one with a long table, another Imp and a hellhound in the room, both unbothered by the two other imps storming in the room. "Blitzo why was there a human in the lobby?"

Suffice to say that Blitzo didn't know who you were at all, but your presence still caused an uproar. Talks about grimoire's and jobs, all of which didn't matter to you. You sulked back into the chair you were now in as you listen to the others argue, mentally trying to think of a way to get to the hotel without drawing too much attention to yourself. "Look..." You eventually spoke. "Just tell me where the Hazbin Hotel is and I'll leave you all alone."

"The what now?" Blitzo gawked, causing you to sulk ever further into your chair. This was going to be impossible.

Since then, the married couple, Millie and Moxie, were nice enough to let you stay with them, spending the rest of your time at their job with Blitzo and his daughter Loona. It wasn't ideal, but since one seemed to know about the Hotel, you given up getting back there any time soon. But everyone seemed nice, especially Mille and Moxie, who seemed very happy to have you around, even though you tried to stay out of their hair. Even though, they both seemed to like you, making it a surprise that they didn't have any children of their own.

The couple loved you, they loved having you at their home, taking care of you. It was a nice change of pace from the work that Blitzo put them through. Even though you were older, they couldn't help but treat you like a child. They couldn't care less that you were human, all they wanted to do was take care of you.

Blitzo and Loona were also nice, even though you tend to hang out with Loona more. She was closer to you in age, and while sardonic, it was nice having a friend your own age. And for the first time in a while, it seemed like she actually enjoyed hanging out with you, which made you happy. Blitzo at first made you nervous, but after realizing that he wasn't nearly as scary as you once thought, you warmed up to him. You never really understood why Loona hated him so much, he seemed like a great dad, but you're not really the judge of good and bad dads.

Loona thought you were great, you related to her in ways others didn't, you were fun and a distraction from work. What she didn't get was Blitzo and his weird fascination with you. Maybe it was because you were close to her in age, or because you were a human, but it's not like Blitzo hasn't seen them before. Honestly, Blitzo couldn't explain it himself, but you reminded him of Loony in some ways, and he just knew there was something deeper about you, even if you would never admit it.

After a while, you started to fall into a routine. It was nice having people take care of you. You felt like a kid again around Millie and Moxie, and their care nearly mad you forget about the hotel. They were interested in you as a person, in your life, and it made you feel important. Blitzo also seemed to take an interest in you, one that seemed strange for someone that had a daughter. You never wanted to get to close to you, afraid of making Loona uncomfortable, but it was nearly impossible to get him to leave you alone.

One day, Loona invited you to party in part of hell you've never even heard of. To not seem like a loser, you excepted, and while Millie and Moxie were nervous for you, you managed to meet up with Loona and head to the party. It was--a lot to say the least, and while you tried to keep up with Loona, you eventually lost her, and you headed outside to catch a breath. It was there that you met Octavia. She didn't seem like someone to be at a party, but a lot of people were at this party so it wasn't that weird. She was soft spoken, but nice, and she eventually even invited you over to her home. You couldn't give her an answer before Loona found you and dragged you off. It seemed like she knew Octavia, but you didn't want to assume anything, and never asked.

Octavia liked having a friend, something to distract her from the chaos of her home life. You were a safe haven for her, something she seemed to crave as time went on, and on top of that you seemed to understand her. You were a great listener, a great friend, and someone she wanted to keep to herself. It's why she wanted to keep you away from her dad, she cared about him, but she didn't want anything to change about you, she just wanted you to be hers.

You spent a lot of your time after that messaging Octavia whenever you could. She was similar to Loona in ways, cynical and moody during some times, but also funny and genuinely a great person. She also hated her dad, who she complained about a lot when messaging with you. You didn't know how to act when she got like that, making you feel awkward when she complained to you. She was the first person you told about your family, feeling like a weight was lifted from your chest, even if there was still a lot to be worried about.

---

A/n: All the characters wouldn't fit, so feel free to ask about them in separate posts. I really don't want to write a part 4 but I will if I have to. Also I know this sucked but I wanted to get this over with, sorry

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #platonic yandere helluva boss #yandere helluva boss #helluva boss x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #platonic yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin hotel

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gh0stsp1d3r · 1 year

Note

I have an idea for a tangerine x fem!reader, i was thinking a Mr and Mrs smith idea. So reader is married to tan and is also a contact killer/assassin but he doesn’t know this until he finds her on the train holding the briefcase

Then yanno the usual sexual tension and witty remarks 🤩

Thank youuuu

Unexpected

THE MR AND MRS SMITH REFRENVE IS EVEN MORE FUNNY WHEN YOU KNOW THAT BRAD PITT PLAYED JOHN LMFAOO

Tangerine tried his best to keep his job away from you, it was hard but he did it.

You also tried to keep your job away from him, you both usually called and sometimes maybe on a weekend if you both weren’t busy.

You both lived busy lives, sure. But you still found time for each other, and still loved each other very much.

So it was very, extremely unexpected to see each other on the train.

You and your partner Ladybug walked around.

You noticed someone, and recognized him. As you guys were about to leave the train, A familiar face stopped you.

You both quickly ran onto the train.

“That’s my husbands brother!” You whispered.

“What? He shot me, like.. twice!” He whisper yelled back, and you both quickly ran away.

“So, let me get this straight, your husbands brother is just coincidentally on this train, and he’s also a contract killer. What the fuck does your husband do?”

“He said he just works in an office job!”

“So uh, you can’t really like freak out or anything because this is just a guess, but I’m pretty sure that he and his brother were the two who did that one Bolivia job.”

“You mean the one where they wiped out the white deaths crew?”

“Yeah..”

“Oh my god. I’ve been lied to my whole marriage.”

“Technically you’ve been lying too. Y’Know it would really help to process this-“

“Shut up!” You said, and pushed ladybug aside as you saw your husband walking towards you both.

“Right, right, sorry.” He said as you both hid.

“He doesn’t know. Holy shit. Holy shit. I’m about to be divorced.”

“No you won’t. Just talk it out-“ he hid in a storage area. You flicked him off and hid against a wall, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

He walked in, and he immediately saw you. It wasn’t exactly subtle.

He said your name, confused. You opened your eyes.

“Ta-da…” you said.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He asked.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Work trip.”

“Me too.”

You both stared in silence as his phone rang. He answered it, still looking at you. You couldn’t hear what the other guy was saying.

After he hung up, he put his phone back in his pocket.

“I’m glad to see you, I haven’t seen you in a few days. But… seriously, what are you doing here?” He cleared his throat after a while.

“Like you said, work trip.”

He narrowed his eyes, and ladybug swore he could cut the tension with a knife. He felt as if he was watching some weird romantic action movie.

“Right, well, you should probably get off next stop. Lotta traffic after next stop…” he said.

You sighed and looked at ladybug for a second then back to him.

“I know you’re an assassin.” You said.

“Love, that is ridiculous-“ he said, way too quickly.

“Before you say anything- I am too. And I’m sorry for lying.”

“I’m not-“

“Seriously? You’re still lying?”

He felt guilty now.

“Fine. Yeah. I’m sorry for lying too.”

“So… you did the Bolivia job?”

“Yeah.”

You sighed, maybe he wouldn’t notice ladybug in the back.

“Well, uh, just- be careful, alright? We’ll talk when we get home.” You said.

“Yeah… you here for the case?” He asked.

“No. I came here to kill the wolf.” You lied.

“Alright.” He sighed, and fixed his mustache in the mirror, still not noticing ladybug.

“Love you.” He said, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek and leaving.

“Love you too.”

Ladybug groaned and moved. He stood in front of you now.

“Well, now we’re fucked.”

“Yup.”

“Y’Know, there was a lotta sexual tension there. It was so weird-“

“Shut it.”

“Yup, yup, sorry.”

#bullet train #tangerine x reader #aaron taylor johnson #bullet train x reader #tangerine #tangerine bullet train #aaron taylor johnson x reader

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liveontelevision · 1 month

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If I don't get more to that babysitter story soon I might just go into full withdrawals.

Well shit here you go bbg

Exams are mostly over which means I can suffer more! :)

This is definitely gonna be a multi-part series at this point, and I am working on part 3 already so - ya

Disclaimer: This is my personal interpretation of the characters from Hazbin Hotel. I respect the canon storyline and characters, but this fic will stray from it a decent amount.

Enjoy this very angsty mildly smutty continuation of Suffer Pt. 1!

Suffer Pt. 2 | Lucifer x Reader

Things didn't exactly get easier for you after your stupid dalliance with Lucifer. Obviously, you lost your job. But you were a nanny, you lived in the manor. And now you have to find new housing somewhere else in Hell. You haven't been out on the streets in years, and protection was essentially guaranteed as a royal staff member, so it was definitely.. a change of pace. Getting some tips from your previous coworkers who lived outside the manor, you did your best to weave through the murderous streets to find some sort of safety.

“Hello? Anyone home?” The apartment you entered was located in a ratty-looking motel that sat in the middle of a more secluded area in Pentagram City. No matter how dirty, it did seem a little safer considering the distance between other sinners. Scanning the apartment, considering no one answered to your previous call, you hesitantly stepped through the door. An imp you used to work with at the hotel advised you to take some sort of protection out there. He handed you an incredibly sleek pistol. It was tiny, even compared to the size of your smaller hands. It was easy to slip in and out of the little holster on your outer thigh. Scoffing at the idea of needing to shoot anyone, you accepted it humbly. Just to be safe.

Looking out a busted window, surrounded by broken glass, you saw the demon who must've lived here. A twisted corpse, covered in splatters of blood and dirt. A long angelic spear, still standing, sits firmly in the center of their chest, a collection of other stab wounds littered across the rest of the body. Fuck. You knew about exterminations, everyone did. It was always a solemn day back at the manor, but you’ve never witnessed its actual afflictions. You stumbled backward, tripping over some random debris and falling to the floor, your heart pounding heavily in your chest. The fear you felt, the sharp pain in your palms where the glass shards had pierced you, it was all too much. Struggling to your knees, you crawl to the wall, leaning back against it with a thud. A sudden paranoia that someone may hear any noise you made, kept your breathing shallow. You pulled your knees to your chest, sitting in the dark room entirely alone. You wished you weren't alone. You wished he was here.

The last extermination day was about three months ago, so you knew the place hadn't been touched in at least that long. And as gruesome as it may sound, you now had a place to stay in the meantime. But, what are you supposed to do now? You were sure there weren't any families in Hell looking for a babysitter.. You could do little things, like mending clothes, cooking, and cleaning, but.. None of those skills were strong enough to get you into anything remotely as comfortable as being a royal nanny. Cell Phones were a thing at this time, but you never had a reason to have one before, so that’d be something you have to work for. You were essentially starting from scratch, as if you had just arrived in Hell.

You had to take to the streets. Walking nervously, with one hand on your little emergency weapon, you peeked into stores to see who might be hiring. Surprisingly, a quaint little bakery was just around the corner. Stepping inside, the little bell notifies the black-eyed woman standing at the counter. After a quick conversation, and browsing some of the baked goods, it finally clicked that you had walked straight into cannibal town without realizing. But.. It was surprisingly nice. The woman said she did need help in the kitchen, and while the image of cleaning blood and bones off baking pans made you shiver, it could've been worse.

With some hard work and absolute dumb luck, you managed to become a customer favorite. There were some close calls, gentlemen would always get a whiff of your scent before kissing your hand as a greeting, and sometimes you would even feel their teeth graze across your knuckles. The owner was such a lovely woman, despite also being a cannibal, she would swat at any unwanted advances and scold anyone who dared to taste her “best worker”. After a couple months, you were able to pretty up your inherited apartment, and it finally felt like somewhere you could call home.

And a few months after that, you would actually consider yourself in a good place. Bringing some homey decor into your new place, you had the urge to bring a few friends by. The only issue was, you didn't have friends. You were close to the owner, but she was.. Old fashioned. And customers were just that; customers. You were getting antsy though. You rummaged through the small duffle you took with you from the Morningstar residence and found a mildly appealing outfit. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you let out a dissatisfied hum. With one fell swoop, you took the bottom of your skirt and tore it fully around your legs. The dress that normally flowed sweetly to your calves, now flounced to your thighs. With one more spin, where you saw a little too much under your skirt, you decided that this would definitely get you some friends.

Oh, and how right you were. You made many “friends”. You played every card in the book, using dozens of excuses to bring home any demon who showed interest. You were careful about it, you could handle yourself, after all. You were finally getting the attention you deserved. But.. it wasn't from him. Each time you’d walk to work you’d see a flier or a billboard with the king of Hell’s grinning face on it. It churned your stomach each time.

At this point, after some soul-searching, you decided on one thing. This was all Lucifer’s fault. How dare he smile at you the way he did. How could he constantly keep you company, making you wonder why you were even hired as a nanny? How could he so easily touch you without getting as nervous as you did? How could he kiss you the way he did, then call it a mistake? He did nothing to defend you. But these demons in your bed each night? They would do anything for just a taste of you and had no problem admitting that.

After finally appeasing your physical needs, you stopped pursuing demons. It’s been a few years since you've settled in, and now you look back at some of your hookups with a cringe. That was progress, right? Admitting it was just a phase?

Your traveling hands told you otherwise. At night, especially after a long shift where your mind was too tired to think straight, your hands would trail down the center of your stomach. You could never explain what got you in this state, but somewhere in the back of your mind, you had to know. Taking no time, with your exhaustion quick to take over, you rubbed small circles across your still-clothed cunt. You held your blanket to your mouth to muffle any noises. You picked up the speed.

“Nng.. L-Lucifer..” You moaned out softly, your blanket slipping out of your clenched fist. A swell of pleasure caused you to arch your back into your hand, still playing with your overstimulated cunt. After letting yourself calm down, you simply sit with tired eyes, looking at the ceiling with a visible glare. Well, shit.

—

“U-Uh.. Lillith, my love, don’t you think we should -” A quick glare back at the nervous king caused him to shut his mouth.

“Get yourself cleaned up, darling. Then, we’ll figure everything out.” She sounded far too calm for his liking, but once he turned to a mirror in a nearby vanity, he choked on any response he might have. He was covered in your lipstick. Fuck, he loved being covered in your lipstick. Quickly shaking the thought out of his head, he went off to clean up his face. Splashing water onto his face and neck, he let out a heavy sigh, refusing to look into his reflection. Even he’s ashamed to look into his eyes after what he’s done.

After folding his coat and draping it over a nearby chair, he carefully approached Lillith, who had sat down gracefully at the edge of their shared bed. She was holding up some papers with a purple haze, and with a flick of her wrist, she dropped certain ones into a nearby portal. Lucifer gathered the courage to sit next to his wife. He still kept a good distance, twisting his ring around his finger as a nervous fidget.

“What do you think of this one, dear?” Leaning in close to him, Lillith presents a piece of paper that she had just been looking at. A sudden chill ran down his spine, scanning the sheet. A picture of a homely demon, looking absolutely ancient, was clipped to piles of papers with references, experiences, and skills. Overall, if this were a normal situation, she would be a perfect fit to take care of Charlie. But so soon? He didn't want to bring that up. Hey! Can’t you keep the demon, who you just caught me sucking on, for a little while longer? That’s ridiculous.

“W-Well, sure, I’m sure Charlie would love her.. Great choice.. Love.” He was always quick to tell her or give her whatever would make her happy. He owed her that after all. After dragging her to the pits of Hell that he created.

“Hm! Well, that’s settled. I suggest you head to the other room for the night, you must understand how I’m feeling after what I saw.” She sounds absolutely heartless. Not in a way that comes off as cruel, just in the way she barely seems affected by something that weighs on his mind so heavily. Either way, he nodded and left their bedroom.

No servants came to help him get ready for bed, as they usually do. Which isn't an issue, he wasn't completely incompetent. But it did leave him alone for the first time in centuries. Really, when was the last time he had been alone in a room for longer than a few minutes? He tried to not get caught up in the thought, shifting under the covers of the bed. It felt new. It felt unused.

Maybe it was the discomfort of sleeping in a bed that hadn't been touched for who knows how long, but Lucifer spent most of the night tossing and turning. How could he sleep with his mind so full of regret? But then, what was he regretting exactly? Was it the cheating on the one woman who's been by him through everything? Or was he regretting not saying something to you sooner? Not shutting the door when he had the chance? Regretting letting you go without a fight?

At some point in the night, he shot up, a sweating mess. He was still exhausted, even with the notion that he had just woken up from some night terror. Finally catching his breath, he slumps back down, shifting into some other sleeping position. With that one motion, he felt the stiffening problem in his shorts. Fuck. It wasn't there the whole night, but he knew exactly why it was here now. He laid on his back, spreading his knees a bit to gain better access to his aching groin. With the same goal of getting it over with, so he could go back to sleep, he palmed at his shorts before releasing his throbbing cock. Even if he convinced himself that this was just to help him get back to sleep, he couldn't prevent picturing you as he started to toy with himself

If you could see him in this state, you'd go mad. The image of him letting out soft whimpers to no one and pumping his own shaft, wishing his hand was your own.

With a speedy resolve, Lucifer pulls away his hand. Already disgusted with himself for essentially sending you to the streets to fend for yourself, he cleaned himself up before continuing to lay in the unfamiliar bed. The rest of the night was spent staring at the ceiling. It was all so.. Empty. He was so used to hearing the soft breathing of someone sleeping beside him, the comfort of being able to just turn his head and know he wasn't alone. He didn’t exactly miss the smell, but he could recognize the difference. The fragrance of whatever Lillith would use on her hair or skin, right before she would sleep, was gone. There was still a lingering scent, though. He couldn't quite place his finger on it. A sudden flash of your flushed appearance, ringing with an anticipation he hadn't seen in years, formed in his mind. He could have covered you in love bites and bruises right that instant - Oh. That must be it; He was smelling you. His senses were overwhelmed. By you.

“Sire! Breakfast!” A hasty knock at the bedroom door sent him sitting up quickly. He was still groggy since it didn't feel like he fell asleep at all. A random servant let themselves in, a tray of assorted breakfast pickings sitting heavily in their hands as they glided quickly to place it over his lap. He didn't normally have breakfast in bed. A surprise usually viewed as a treat, felt morbid to him. He usually had breakfast with..

With a heavy sigh, he dismisses the imp and pushes the tray off his lap. Who could have an appetite after everything that went on the night before?

As the days started to pass, Lillith eventually started acting like nothing had changed. Your replacement was quick to start working. Lucifer got along with her fine and Charlie seemed to like her plenty. Could this really be swept under the rug? Was a little kiss not worth a serious discussion after all these years? Apparently so. Neither of the royals brought it up to each other after that. They were actually fighting less than before - that is - Lucifer didn't feel it fair to try and rebuttal any of her arguments. And.. that’s the end of it. Just a fling that occurred on a restless night. Just a sinner making another sinful mistake, and the king of Hell creating more problems. There wasn't any more to it.

—

Extermination Day was fast approaching. This wasn't your first, but it was definitely jarring compared to how you handled it at the Morningstar Manor. You boarded up your windows, tore apart curtains, and generally made your hand-me-down apartment seem abandoned. No point in looking for sinners in an empty building, right? You were surprisingly calm, considering the circumstances, you brought a damned book to read while hiding in the safest area of your home. You didn't think much of it, Not until the screams began.

The battle cries became increasingly louder. The exorcists were quick to get to work, spreading their attacks through the most heavily populated areas first. The shouting and sobbing of other demons suddenly registered in your mind. You're terrified. It's easy for sinners to take their position for granted during their first year. You died on Earth, but here you are in Hell. You die in Hell, you regenerate, so you can continue your eternal punishment. But this extermination? It finally clicked in your mind that this could be it. This could be your end and you have no idea what would happen to you afterwards. Was there anything beyond Hell? Your spiraling thoughts were brought to a halt when some of the expertly nailed boards on your windows went flying across the room. You were safely tucked away in a closet, it wasn't closed, just ajar. You hoped that little detail would keep it clear that no demon would be stupid enough to hide in an open closet. You heard rustling, some things breaking, then breathing. She was so close to the closet, that you could hear her breathing. As she reached for the doorknob and you prepared for the worst, you could hear a command coming from outside. The exorcist left through your window in one fell swoop. You had no idea if that was the end of the extermination or if you had only managed to avoid one angel.

Gripping your knees to your chest, only prolonging your struggling breathing, you hoped for one thing. Your mind went spinning, as it does on occasion; After rough days or when certain guests weren't treating you very well, you would wish for help. In your fantasies, a knight in shining armor would come in, kick down the door, and save the day. He would whisk you off your feet and you'd have your happy ending. But today, extermination day, you wanted nothing more than for Lucifer to hold you. Not to save you, defend you from dangers, or play the hero, but to embrace you. Keep you close to his chest and tell you everything was going to be okay, and that you'll look back on this later and laugh. That you'll always be safe as long as you're with him.

Why did you have to ruin it? Things were so good before. You were safe, technically wealthy, and had a friend. A real friend who would help pick up your work if you ever felt the slightest overwhelmed, someone who would support and praise you, someone who would make you laugh. And you were too horned up to consider you could lose all of it.

A sharp pain running down your back forces you awake. Taking the time to recognize your surroundings, you recall crying yourself to sleep in the cramped safe haven you made for yourself. At least it worked. You're still here. Despite everything, you're still here. Taking your time, you stretched your stiff body and examined the damage to your home. It was in absolute shambles. The sight of the busted window made your blood run cold, just imagining an exorcist exploring your personal space. You took a mental note of everything you still had and carefully sat at the edge of your bed, your sheets littered with shards of window glass. This has to stop. You need some kind of respite again, you can't survive like this anymore.

—

You were embarrassed. It felt so strange going somewhere and admitting you need help, that was always a struggle for you. But to crawl to the establishment ran by Charlie? The toddler you raised? It would be near impossible to admit defeat to her. But you were shunned by the rest of the royal family, and quickly discovered you can't make it just living alone as a demon. There's only one other option. Heaven. You supposed it was time to give Redemption a shot. What else do you have to lose?

You hesitate to knock on the door once you're greeted with the signs hanging all over the front of the building. Homemade flyers and banners decorate the walls, saying things like Sinners Welcome!, Escape Redemption!, Ascend to the Heavens!, but the most important one was Free Housing! You knock so lightly on the door, that you have to do it again. It swung open -

You aren't exactly shocked by her appearance, she's been displayed on the news and you've seen her commercials a few times, but you still felt a stabbing pain in your chest. It was from a combination of nerves and.. was that pride? To see this little girl, you helped raise for a moment, as a grown woman who was pursuing her dreams?

She immediately bombarded you with questions and greetings. She still had that energy, didn't she?

"This is the lobby! And over here is the bar, if you drink, and here is -” You started to tune out her voice, still smiling and nodding when she looked at you. Taking in your surroundings, you would at least smile at the other demons you'd make eye contact with. You recognized Angel Dust, obviously a celebrity in Hell, but the rest were strangers to you. Emphasis on strange.

Finally appearing from the shadows, you did actually recognize the so-called radio demon. He would frequently come into your bakery with the overlord of Cannibal Town, Rosie. You'd serve them, which was not normally a service you'd provide, but your boss insisted. He seemed nice enough from those interactions, you saw no reason to fear him. Yet. He was kind enough to stop you and Charlie to chat.

"Ah, a familiar face!" He greeted you by taking up your hand and placing a light kiss on your knuckles, immediately sending shivers down your spine. "Pleasure to see you, again, dear." He spoke into your hand. "Quit the pleasure~" Your hand still held to his lips, he looked up to meet your eyes. With a nervous chuckle and a nod, you pull your hand away, almost pushing Charlie to move on. You didn't want him to see your flustered face.

"So.. How's your dad been?" You idiot. Why would you ask that? You didn't want to know the answer.

"Oh! Um.. That's a weird question - We don't talk much, he's doing important things you know, considering he's the king and all, but uh..good! Pretty sure he's.. good..." Her nervous reactions were just like her father's, but you didn't have time to dwell on that. You knew Lillith had disappeared, everyone did. You wondered what happened. You wondered what it would be like if you were still in the manor with them. If Lucifer would treat you differently with Lillith gone.. Stop.

“Well, I used to work at the manor, actually.. erm.. Do you recognize me..? By any chance?" Charlie's face gleamed with excitement as she took your hands into hers. You were hopeful for a second.

"That is so cool! I haven't been home in ages.. so I'm not sure I remember you but - wow, we have so much to talk about!" She let out an excited squeal that left you smiling nervously. She didn't recognize you. That was fair, you only knew her when she was young, but you thought.. maybe...

Aging in Hell worked differently. While Charlie had truly grown, you've looked the same for multiple decades. You almost hoped that would trigger something in her mind.. thinking about it, you'd love to reconnect with her. But you can't. You can't look at her without seeing him. Maybe her not recognizing you is the best for now.

You settled into the hotel pretty quickly, and considering your housekeeping skills, the rest of the staff and residents seemed to warm up to you, asking for help with little things like mending or baking. You also helped Charlie with anything you could. She had a lot of questions about what her childhood home was like before she came along, and you had to do your best to dance around the important details.

As you were fixing up a skirt for Angel, one that was torn straight in half, your head was suddenly with radio static. A shadowy figure appeared in front of you. With Alastor looking down at you, he was much more intimidating. Doesn't stop the fact that he made you blush like crazy.

"Alastor. What's up?" You turned your head back down to continue your sewing, trying to keep a cool facade, then felt the seat next to you dip slightly.

"A little birdy told me you have an.. interesting past. Sounds like you have quite the history with the royal family, correct?" You hesitantly nod.

"I'd love to hear some stories if you have anything.. juicy." He definitely learned that word from Rosie. You chuckled at the sound of such a modern word warped with static. You gave him the same details you would tell Charlie, vague and definitely not juicy.

As you spoke and sewed at the same time, you ended up jabbing your finger with the needle. With a disappointed groan, you squeezed your finger, letting the blood drop grow. A quick reaction, Alastor lightly took a grasp of your wrist and brought your finger to his lips. With just a single swipe of his tongue, he wiped the blood clean. You tried your best to act disgusted, he was a cannibal after all, but your face was still heating up.

“O-Ookay.. thank you, I suppose..? Anyway..” You took a moment to shake any inappropriate thoughts from your head before returning to your stories. Alastor simply sat and nodded, occasionally letting out a little chortle at something you tried to joke about. "It was definitely a cushy job, I mean, you get free housing as a nanny, protection, food and - "

"A nanny, hmm?" Fuck. You quickly dropped what you were doing to face him. "Alastor, please don't say anything to Charlie. She doesn't even remember me since I had to leave when she was young, and I.. I want to keep it that way, okay? Keep this between us? Please?" You were begging. You had a great relationship with Charlie right now, there was no point bringing up the past. Or the mistakes you've made. You didn't see his smile grow, but it definitely did.

"Not a problem, my dear! I'm not one to blab.. since you asked so nicely." He looked at his clawed fingers as if they were neatly painted nails. You let out a sigh of relief, shakily reaching for your little sewing project in your lap to proceed where you left off.

"Thanks. I owe you one." You had no idea what you did, but apparently, that was enough for him. Enough to signal a deal. You officially owed Alastor a favor, and you had no idea what that could entail.

—

“Okay, everyone! My dad agreed to come and see what I'm - what we - are doing here! This could really help the hotel, so we are going to pretty it up and make it as welcoming as we can!” Charlie stood on the previously used trust-fall stage as she spoke.

“We’ve got one hour, people! Let’s get going!” The command from Vaggie, only made you sweat more. You stood in the small crowd of recently made friends, suddenly shrinking where you stood. You had no idea what Lucifer had been up to these past years. He definitely wasn't making any public appearances and Charlie rarely talked about him, so you just assumed he wasn't interested in her little project. It was shocking to you at first, that the gentle father you used to know had barely even spoken to her in almost a decade.

But that's beside the point. He was coming to the hotel. Stepping off the stage as the crowd dispersed, Charlie came directly to you. She held onto both your hands, before shining a giddy smile your way.

“Isn’t it exciting? Maybe he’ll recognize you! It’ll be like a little reunion!” You simply smiled and nodded, before quickly stepping away. Charlie started directing people, nicely, to start cleaning things up and creating banners and other decorations. A familiar static ran through your core as you hit the top of the stairs, ready to hide wherever you could.

You groaned, “Alastor, I just need to get out of here, please don’t bug me right now.” He was quick to block your path, placing a hand on his chest as if he were wounded.

“How cruel of you, I simply want to chat! I’m just wondering how you’re doing, dear.” His voice was sweet, but it still put you on edge. You waved him off and kept walking.

“Don’t give me that shit, I know you don't really care.” You rolled your eyes as he continued to walk with you, occasionally brushing his side against yours with his strides. Alastor was becoming close to you over these past few months, even getting a little touchy at times. You definitely didn't mind it. You considered making some kind of move, but the idea of that failing made you cringe.

“Goodness, how rude you are today! Aren’t you excited to see your old employer? Or.. are you nervous?” He knew what he was doing. You did your best to hide your anxious reaction, but he saw right through it.

“M-Maybe a little nervous. There, are you happy now? I don’t want to see him, I’m not ready - “ You muffled a frustrated groan into your hands, stopping in place

“Not a problem, my dear! Why don’t you stick with me today? I would hate to see you in such a state of despair - ” Liar. “ - just think about it.” You nod your head, but you were pretty sure you wouldn't be leaving your room for the rest of the day.

“Good girl.” With a quick pat on your head and a flicker of the lights, Alastor disappeared from sight. Your whole body shivered as you stepped into your room.

—

You recognized his voice immediately, even from your room. it didn't help that he was practically shouting. You were sitting in your bed, your back against the headboard and your knees pulled tightly to your chest. You would grab a book, or maybe the phone you finally managed to buy, but you didn't. You sat with tears flowing down your cheeks. You weren’t sad, exactly, but your body had no idea how to process your emotions right now.

Luckily, a loud crash snapped you out of your frozen state, forcing you to carefully leave your room. You couldn't hear his voice anymore, just a loud ruckus, people screaming and gunshots. You assumed someone had broken down the wall, again, probably looking for another fight. That probably means he left, right? Taking your time, you carefully peek your head around the stairwell, letting out a shaky sigh of relief.

No sign of Lucifer. Starting to descend the stairs, a giant portal opens mere feet away from you. Charlie and Lucifer return, his gigantic wings fluttering close as they embrace. You only realized the severity of the situation after appreciating his wings that you’ve never really seen this close before. They were beautiful - Focus.

As they discussed finally setting up Charlie’s meeting, she finally caught a glance of you just beginning to climb the stairs.

“Oh, Dad! I almost forgot! There was so much going on, I didn't get to show you our other guest!” She speedily approached you as she spoke, grabbing your hand and pulling you back down the stairs.

“She said she used to work at home! Isn't that cool?” Placing both her hands on your shoulders, you were essentially held captive.

“Oh! OH! Ahh.. hm! That is - That is definitely.. Interesting! Fun little fact there, isn't it?” His laughter became increasingly nervous and his cheeks became redder, as he tugged at the collar of his shirt to let the cool air of the room hit his suddenly heated skin.

“B-Been awhile, huh?? Long time no see! What are you up to? Today? These.. days..?” Charlie’s excitement only grew, shaking you a bit by your shoulders.

“You remember each other? That’s awesome! Maybe you two can catch up sometime! Were you close? She talks about how much she loved working there all the time!” Charlie’s words did little to fill the gaps. He had no idea why you were here, what you had told her - his eyes met yours finally, begging for the answer. What did you tell her?

Charlie’s one-sided conversation became a ringing in your ears, as she finally released you. You were only brought back by a hand placed delicately on the small of your back. In the back of your mind, you hoped it was Lucifer’s. That made you wince. Finally looking at its source you met Alastor’s eyes. He did say he would keep you company if you decided to come to the lobby. A sudden question popped into your head. Did Lucifer ever apologize? With Alastor's support, a surge of confidence gave you the strength to respond.

“We weren't that close, Charlie. I mean, we could catch up. If he wants to that is.” You leaned into Alastor's touch as you spoke, another decision you'll question later. In that moment, you wanted to treat him like shit. You wanted him to feel the way you did when you were sent away without a fight.

He seemed to shrink in place, his eye twitching when he let his gaze roam from your body up to Alastor’s, which was connected so sweetly by a gentle hold.

“Yeeaah! MAybe - “ His voice cracked, “ Welp! If you’re here - I know where to find you, I’ll uh.. Keep in touch..?” He did his best to send charlie a nervous smile, who was giving an enthusiastic thumbs up to him from behind you.

“Weren't you just leaving, Your Highness?” Alastor’s voice went crackly as he spoke, his hand snaking completely around your waist. He gave a nervous goodbye, before vanishing in a red smoke. Something strange happened just then. Before he left - he looked scared. But you still felt good doing what you did.

You blinked your eyes as if you had just been broken out of a trance. Looking around the silent room, you met Alastor’s eyes again, before quickly pulling yourself away from his grasp.

“I-I guess you did what you promised.. so.. Thank you?” letting out an awkward chuckle, you made your way back up the stairs. What came over you? Did you really want him to suffer? You had a chance to try and repair things, to ask why he did what he did. There's no way he'd try to reach out now. Right?

—

Hope y'all are liking the direction this is going, i know its getting a lil intense

I'm getting your requests btw! I'm loving the prompts I'm seeing, so I'll work on them as soon as I can! :)

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bindeds · 3 months

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⊹・° ｡ㅤ BOYFRIEND VOX / LUCIFER / ALASTOR X FEM READER HEADCANONS ! — now i know alastor is aroace so i am once again making a post that acknowledges that as much as possible, meaning his headcanons can also be seen as platonic and his nsfw section doesn’t involve him engaging in the act of sex. i also made an aroace friendly headcanons post on alastor if you wanna check that out!

contains nsfw (+18) and it will be in a separate section <3 please credit me if you use these gifs!

mlist. request status.

VOX.

this man pampers the SHIT out of you and you cannot tell me otherwise. if you’re out walking in the streets of hell and you so much as look at a branded purse for a second longer than usual, it’s in your hands within the next five seconds. same goes for literally anything—clothes, shoes, sunglasses, books, anything you could want that isn’t a gadget, because he already gives you his latest models—only the finest for his girl.

he teleports to your phone screen whenever you ignore him, and you don’t tell him that you find it particularly endearing. the way he’s just so whiny for your attention that he’d act all petty and crash all your apps so you’re forced to look him in the face.

has the most funniest fucking pet names for you i just KNOW IT HAHA like think shrek’s prince charming. i just know that when you call him from a different room he’d definitely say shit like “just a second honey kisses!” like HAHAH I CAN’T GET THIS OUT OF MY HEAD

DEFINITELY loves having you sit on his lap while he works. i just know this man is a thigh grabber.

he loves when you dress in sweater vests, preferably in brighter colors but it’s cute when you use more muted colors as well.

relating back to my first point, this man loves taking you to extravagant AND I MEAN extravagant dates. i imagine one of them would be getting the both of you a literal floating table in the red skies of hell so you can see the entire pentagram from where you dine. he would have the food freshly delivered from the finest chefs he knows but he also seems like the type who would forget your favorite food, then demand that the food switched out with a snap of his fingers.

i’m judging this purely off of ‘stayed gone’ but he has a TON of terrible jokes up his sleeves, and they border on dad jokes at this point. you simply roll your eyes and kiss him for being so silly.

i just know this man comes home to you and WHINES. like, no matter what it is, he’ll always have something to complain about from work and you’re happy to listen to him bitch and moan about the smallest things ever. he also lays down on your lap and you to rub his shoulders and console him, whatever it is. you know he appreciates it because he usually always responds with something along the lines of “you’re right, baby, i do push myself too hard!” and you coo at him while continuing to console him further.

VOX NSFW !

i know he definitely gets irritated when someone interrupts his work but would be so into having sex on the job, and even loves ignoring calls from the vees for you. but of course doing it one too many times has its consequences, and he laughs nervously the one time he backs out. i can just imagine him going, “oh, haha, uh—sorry baby, i uh—listen i know we usually—it’s—FUCK um—just—just five minutes okay baby?”

i know this man’s hickeys feel like tiny zaps on your skin, and the marks reflect that instead of bruises

regarding the ‘sitting on his lap’ thing … you tried riding his thigh once and he DID NOT like that. seconds after you were sitting on his cock, crying his name from how he was just pumping into you mercilessly.

“still wanna tease me on my own fucking thigh, sweetie?” he clicks his tongue and grunts right after, his hands on your waist was enough to leave bruises.

that being said, he makes sure valentino never catches sight of you. the things you do to this man is beyond anything he could have thought and somehow, he feels uneasy at the fact that the way you have sex with him was DEFINITELY porn worthy and the thought of you being on camera in that way makes him want to wrap all of himself around you like a blanket to cover you from all of hell.

LUCIFER.

ironically, this man does NOT give you the world. instead, he gives you casual nights out turned into nights where you share all your secrets with him, and he tells you everything might not be okay now, or ever, but whatever it is, he’ll be right there with you. think going to your favorite diners, cruising and carpooling along the quieter side of hell, screaming at the top of your lungs. this man is all about authenticity. he wants the bond, not the experience.

that doesn’t mean he doesn’t spoil you every now and then—he definitely does research on the best bars in the ring and takes you out every month during your monthsaries and gets you at least 10 different gifts—half of which are little trinkets you and him picked up from your little adventures together.

unironically so fucking good at picking out jewelry for you. you don’t know how he does it, but every time you both visit a jewelry store, you always pick out necklaces and rings and he always comes to you with pieces that just look way more stunning on you. he always insists on being the one to slip the rings onto your fingers or chain the necklaces at the back of your neck, and he always flies up to do it.

he sometimes visits you as a bird and flies through your window. you like stroking his little cheek and it always causes him to transform suddenly which catches you off guard, and he uses this opportunity to kiss you.

he makes rubber duckies modeled after you!! all of them have different outfits from all the times you spend together.

forehead touches. so important for him, he does it so often and it’s nothing short of endearing.

this man COOKS and he COOKS WELL. every now and then when you both stay home he always whips up five-star restaurant grade steak for you, same goes for his carbonara, fish and chips, ramen, fried rice, stew—whatever it is, he loves making it with his own two hands and loves cooking for you.

lucifer makes his own clothes seeing as his hat has a gold snake and an apple on it which only really related to him, and he also has a unique circus vibe to his clothing. he made his clothes out of magic but after meeting you he wanted to get into sewing to make you something from scratch.

LUCIFER NSFW !

i absolutely agree with a lot of lucifer stans on him being a definite switch BUT i just know that if this man tops, he tops HARD. i mean, we’re talking about the angel who successfully seduced not just the FIRST WOMAN to ever exist, but the SECOND TOO. WHILE SHE WAS LOYAL TO ADAM. I FEEL LIKE THAT SPEAKS FOR ITSELF

he’d definitely do a multitude of things while trying out a few kinks to see just what kind of top flusters you. if you like service tops, he found out when he insisted on fingering you right after he’d brought you to orgasm with his tongue. dominant top? he found out when he crawled on top of you and said, “take it off for me, lovely.” all while leaving a trail of hickeys all from your jaw all the way down to your collarbone. the list goes on.

no matter if he tops or bottoms, this man begs, and its especially orgasm-worthy when he does it as a bottom. you’re riding him to your own climax and he’s close too and he goes, “ohhh god fuck please let me cum honey—let me cum please fuck! can i cum can i cum my love? i won’t until you say so oh fuck please baby—”

he knows when you’re pent up. apparently you give of a certain set of cues through body language only he sees and he’s observed it from you in all sorts of situations; going out with friends, sitting in bed with a book, tapping a pencil to your lip—it doesn’t matter what you’re doing. he can tell. and he never tells you how.

seeing as he usually has to fly up to kiss you on the lips, he takes every opportunity he has in bed just to kiss you. he could be going so damn rough on you that the neighbors can hear and he’d still be making out with you so damn hard.

definitely prides himself on cunnilingus. i know everyone mentions this because of the v he made to his lips but it just makes sense for him to do that if he’s good at it! he becomes a grunting, begging, whimpering mess when you suck him off but when he eats you out? you compare it to how restaurants have a signature dish—lucifer’s is whatever miracles he can perform with his tongue.

ALASTOR.

i think this is obvious because he literally hosts possibly the most famous radio broadcast in the entire ring, but this man has a way with words.

“to put it simply my dear, i just never thought the stars could walk on dirty streets, let alone ones that belong in hell,” he sighs with an almost dreamy tone to it as he rested chin on his knuckles, leaning closer to you from the other side of the table with his elbow propped up on it. “but it seems you’re living proof of that.”

you took that as his way of explaining his aromanticism and asexuality to you, even if he isn’t fully aware of those terms yet.

“how did a lovely thing like you end up with a gruesome animal such as myself?”

nonetheless, you and him are partners and he owns it, even if he’ll never admit that it is daunting for someone who has never felt this way about anyone else before. someone who has never liked anyone romantically before. he owns it because he doesn’t want the one person he’s ever loved to slip from his grasp. not when he was just so used to getting what he wants using his own bare hands.

seeing as he is aroace, he doesn’t kiss you directly on the lips but hugs you all the time and maybe kisses cheek-to-cheek.

he listens to your gossip and even arranges dates for you both to properly get together and just dish. he gossips back sometimes too, but not too much as he feels like that would be like treating you like the other friends he has. he’d rather spend this time he has with you focusing on, well, you, not other people’s foolish mistakes. but he sees how excited you are to tell him these things sometimes so, he listens still.

regularly slow dances with you, especially to old romantic songs the both of you like. it’s one of the rare times physical contact doesn’t feel foreign to him as he’s danced with many women, and he actually finds it endearing when you press your head on his chest. it shows that you feel safe around him, and that’s the best thing that could happen for him when you’re dating one of the most feared and powerful overlords in hell.

always does house chores with you even though he could use his powers to just speed up the process. something about cleaning up together just feels so intimate to him compared to physical touch.

ALASTOR NSFW !

he hates being touched, no question about that—but he also doesn’t like to see you pent up. he understands that everyone has their own desires, however filthy they might be—but your own are as good as sacred. you’re the one thing he treasures beyond all others and just as you can’t change the fact that he’s aroace, he can’t change the fact that you have needs.

so he comes up with something just for you; he asks if it would help if he talked you through it. praising or degrading you, whichever you prefer. telling you how much he misses having your hands on his, feeling you close to him. when he says this, he imagines you both dancing as you usually do, but of course, as you masturbate, you’re thinking of something else. this happens when he’s not in the room but he leaves his mic behind to act as a phone for the both of you.

“are you close, love? will you finish for me?” “y-yes …” “good girl.”

i imagine after a while of being with him, he would have seen you naked a few times on accident but he brushes it off well because there’s never anything sexual tied to it. so, when he is in the room while you get off, he’d use his powers to have a glowing green chain around your neck as he pulls your face closer to his.

“do you like it when i do this to you, hm? tell me just how much you relish being my good girl.”

#hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fandom #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel gifs #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox headcanons #vox hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #◟𓂅 𓄹 splash zone.#( ✮ hazbin. )#( ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 hazbin hcs. )

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myahs-delulu-palace · 1 month

Text

Human or Doppel…?| That’s not my Neighbor| Francis Mosses x F! Reader OneShot

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After another stressful day of work as a doorman, [Name] reaches her apartment and go inside, she finds Francis sitting on the sofa reading a book. [Name] remembers buzzing him in earlier but can’t help but get a little paranoid now…what if he was being a really perfect doppelganger? Just waiting to strike…she starts to tense up a bit at the thought.

Francis takes his eyes off his book once he realizes [Name] came home, but he could tell something was off already.

"Mmmm Darling? Is something wrong?" he asked when he saw her staring at him.

[Name] snaps out of her trance. "Oh uhm…nothings wrong, just tired from work today…those doppelgangers are a lot of work…" [Name] didn’t want him to know what she was actually thinking…if she did, and if he was actually a doppelganger…she’s be fucked even more early…

Francis sets his book aside and gets up. He slowly walks towards her. She can smell a milky smell from him. He wraps his arms around her waist. "Mmmm…Are you sure everything is alright? You have a serious look on your face."

[Name] forces a smile as she looked at her husband’s tired eyes.

"I’m sure, I’m fine honey…" she was obviously lying, a whole ass fetus could tell she was lying…[Name] was a really bad liar when she’s nervous.

Francis could see through your forced smile. He was starting to worry. "Mmmmm…You don’t look fine darling. Are you sure nothing is wrong? I’m getting that feeling that you have been having doubts about me being a Doppelganger..."

[Name] froze…'fucking hell…how did he figure it out so quick!?' she thought to herself. "What…? What uhm…what makes you think that…?" She was still tryna lie even though she was caught so easily.

Francis noticed her sudden change in behavior. This confirmed his suspicions. His expression softened as he tightened his arms around her. "Darling....the past few days...I could see it in your eyes. I could see that you have been having doubts about me. Am I wrong? Please don't tell me.....you think I'm a Doppelganger..."

[Name] looks at him for a bit deciding whether or not to tell him the truth…Francis sensed her hesitation and gently lifts her chin up. He gently looks into your eyes and softly says.

"Darling, please.....don't be afraid to tell me the truth. I can tell you have doubts about me. I know that there are many Doppelgangers out there and you have encountered them at work. Darling...please tell me the truth. Is that...it? Do you think I'm a Doppelganger?"

[Name] sighs and nods her head finally admitting it. "I’m sorry Francis…it’s just…this job and these doppelgangers…they’re getting to my head…these doppels are getting smarter and smarter and it’s making me paranoid…"

Francis sighs as he gently rubs her back. He kisses your forehead and holds you tightly. He whispers into your ear. "I understand Darling. I understand your fears about the Doppels. But I promise you one thing. I swear to you, that I'm not a Doppelganger. I'm real. I'm not a fake. I'm a real man who loves you. I'm your husband..."

[Name] sighs as she lays her head on his chest for comfort, she was glad her paranoia was wrong…she really needed to relax right now after this stress…

Francis can tell that she was overwhelmed with everything. He rubs his fingers through your hair gently and speaks in a soothing voice. "Why don't you forget about your work for the time being and just relax. I'll make you hot cocoa with chocolate milk just the way you like it, sound good?"

[Name] lifts her head up to look at Francis in his eyes again. "Yes, thank you Francis…I’m lucky to have you…" Francis softens with a smile as he continues to stroke her hair. He leans in and gently kisses [Name]’s forehead. He breaks away with a soft chuckle.

"Mmmm....I'm lucky to have you too Darling. I'll be right back with the cocoa okay?" [Name] nods as Francis let her go, she walked to the living room and sat on the couch waiting for her dear husband to come back.

In the kitchen, Francis mixed the hot cocoa. As he mixes the cocoa on the stove, he hums a tune to himself.

Five minutes later, Francis brings the mug of cocoa to the living room. He walks over to the sofa where [Name] is sitting. He sits next to her and gives her the mug. "Here you go Darling. Fresh hot cocoa for you with extra chocolate milk. Just the way you like it.

[Name] takes the hot cocoa carefully and blows on it a bit before drinking it, it tasted sooo good! Francis made the best hot cocoa. “This is making me feel better already, I love you Francis…thank you again for comforting me…”

Francis smiles softly as he watches her drink the hot cocoa. He wraps his arm around her waist and brings her close to his chest. "Mmmm...I'm so glad. Glad that I could reassure you. I'll always be here for you whenever you are feeling nervous. I love you so much Darling...I really don't know what I would do without you in my life...You're everything to me."

Francis' words made [Name] blush as she cuddled next to him on the couch and continued to drink her hot cocoa, they remained next to each other the rest of the night…

———————————————————————

I just thought, “this will make a great fanfic! :p” and now here I am on the toilet writing this out. Hope you enjoyed reading! I’ve been dying to make a “That’s not my neighbor” story and I finally made one! I would’ve made a twist ending but decided to just go wholesome if that’s alright. Maybe I’ll make an alternate ending…

#francis mosses #that’s not my neighbor #female reader #oneshot #doppelganger #reader x character #Francis mosses x reader #francis x reader

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angel-of-the-moons · 7 months

Text

Eccentricities

Yandere! Miguel x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: NSFW, Dark Themes, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Yandere!Miguel is a warning on his own, spying, peeping, camera use, masturbation (m)

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Enjoy my brain rot I now infect you all I'm so sorry it took me so long to finish

Taglist: @vineberries9 @irmiki @autismsupermusicalassassin @obi-mom-kenobi @rin-matsuoka345-blog @loosecan @6thhokageswife @selarus @heyohalie @sapphire-and-ruby @night-spectrum @famouscattale @thespaceinbetweennothing @lazy-idate @toshimoshiko @saharadesertaj @flaps200 @amelialysm @fried-milkfish @zaunsin

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

Pt. 1

You weren't sure if it was your luck, or your resume that landed you probably the easiest, most well-paying job you've ever worked. But man, were you glad whatever did get it, got it for you.

Little did you know, it was neither.

The truth is... your boss, Miguel O'Hara, noticed when you emailed it to him. Something about the pictures attached stirred something up inside him.

Maybe it was the soft, Mona Lisa-like smile in your photos, or maybe it was something else entirely. He himself didn't know it, the reason why you immediately piqued his interest.

Sure, he's hired female employees before, one or two housekeepers. They were always buxom girls looking for the whole "boss having sex with his hot maid" cliché. One even tried to trick him with a false pregnancy test, just for him to call her out with a body scan right then and there.

And yeah... he almost always wound up fucking them. But that was it. They were good, warm holes to fuck, that was all. Fuck them until he got bored with them, and toss them out; that's what he would do.

Hell, some of them weren't even good fucks... He'd had better sex from random women he brought home from clubs.

Thank god for non-disclosure contracts.

But you... He had a feeling you would last longer than all of them. There was something about you.

And whatever it was, when he met you for the first time in person in that tiny café, was absolutely intoxicating. Your scent, your voice, the way your eyelashes batted your cheeks, even the shy shuffle of one foot behind the other as you spoke with him.

He could already imagine himself splitting you open with his cock, right then and there. Making you gasp, and scream and writhe and beg him to show some mercy at how he would pummel that sweet little cunt of yours; showing everyone there that you now belonged to him.

But patience is a virtue, and good things come to those who wait.

And Miguel O'Hara always got what he wanted, in the end.

It was just a matter of waiting.

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

"I just have to say that, I... It's very generous of you to offer me a room to stay in, Mr O'Hara." You say as he leads you down the hall.

"I really can't thank you enough."

He sucked in an imperceptible breath at your little smile and twinkling eyes as you rocked your head back to look up at him and meet his red-brown ones.

He flashed a smile, charming. His teeth were crooked in some places, but for some reason it put you a bit at ease. Despite his sheer size, Miguel looked... Normal. Drop dead gorgeous "normal", but still. It made him... more relatable to know someone like him wouldn't immediately run to a dentist to fix his teeth to project an image of perfection. That he wouldn't give in to vain appearances.

"Of course. You don't have to thank me at all." He said, leading you down the hall of his impossibly large house--no, mansion--to where you would be living.

"All my previous maids have been given their own spaces to live in, it's easier on them so they don't have to worry about arriving late, or paying for taxis or finding their own ways to work." He replied casually.

"Oh, actually, I'm curious about that. I haven't seen other staff around here, why is that?" You chirp innocently.

"Ah, well..." He said, giving a strained smile. He had to think of something. Fast. He couldn't possibly tell you the real reasons why. Maybe.

Yet.

"They simply didn't work out. Many of them didn't follow direction well and were constantly challenging my authority."

You frown, your brows furrowed. "Okay, arguing with your boss sounds kind of... Dumb."

"Indeed." He chuckled, his voice a deep timbre that you swear sent shivers right through your very bones.

"And as for why you are currently my own employee? Well. I do like my privacy." He tells you.

God, the smell of your perfume and the way your lips sparkled from that lip gloss...

"Ahem. Technically, the only other person you'll be seeing is Lyla."

"Lyla?" You echoed.

"Yes. She's my... assistant. Artificial intelligence. Don't let her snark fool you, she's not so bad once you get to know her." He smirked.

He could hear your pulse quicken whenever he smiled.

"Oh! An AI? I've... I've never actually met one. Like a literal one, not the ones they program into taxis..."

"No, she's far more sophisticated than that. Expertly programmed by me, smart... And of course there's the sense of humor, I don't know where she got that... But she won't bother you often." He assured you.

"Oh! Of course..."

"Now, here's your room." He gave you a grin over his shoulder as he reached for the control panel of the double doors. He could hear your heart pitter patter already.

The doors opened with a dramatic whoosh, and Miguel stepped aside for you to walk in.

He felt a smug sense of pride at your shock of the huge room he'd given you for your own personal space, and how you'd murmured that it was larger than your whole apartment.

Luxuriously furnished, it looked more like some kind of... Of ten-star hotel room or something!

The way your eyes sparkled and your mouth parted in a soft, excited smile. Everything about you had his heightened senses on alert, but not in a bad way.

You looked so soft. So delicious. Something about you made him want to devour you, bit by tiny bit.

"Mr. O'Hara, I... Oh I can't thank you enough! This is..."

"I'll leave you to it." He chuckled, giving a wave as he walked past you back out into the hall.

Pausing in the doorway, he gave you one last look.

"And you can call me Miguel... Pequeña ave."

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

He simply couldn't wait and had to violently suppress the urge to drop to all fours and leap like an animal to his office and check the well-hidden, practically invisible cameras he had planted in your room and bathroom.

The moment he entered his office, he locked the door and turned Lyla's access to the room off to leave him to his privacy in case she called him.

Miguel felt a buzzing beneath his skin at the thought of what you could possibly do once you've fallen into a sense of safety and privacy, especially since he'd given you permission to have a few days to become acclimated to your new environment before you had to start work.

He sat on his chair and immediately opened up the files on his monitor, selecting the camera feeds until holograms of you at various angles were projected for him to see.

He watched intently as you unpacked your clothes, placing them in the large ornate dresser.

He already made a mental note to hire movers to bring the rest of your meager belongings to his house.

Yes. Yes.

You would stay.

For as long as he wanted you. And right now he could see himself wanting you for a very, very long time.

The moment you flopped on the bed, your breasts jiggling so beautifully to him, the cute look of surprise as you sunk so deep into the downy mattress before settling in with a relaxed groan that sounded so pornographic to his ears it sent blood rushing straight to his dick.

He leaned back, running his tongue over his fangs as he continued to watch you unwind and unpack, careful not to prick the sensitive muscle on the sharp bone.

He watched you pull a small black box out of one of your suitcases and hastily move to hide it beneath your clothes in your dresser.

Bottom row, far left side, all the way to the back. He made a mental note to inspect that drawer later.

Miguel leaned in towards the projections and tapped the one of you nearest to your new closet as you slipped your blouse off and down your shoulders, revealing your back and the straps of your bra.

The leather creaked under his weight as he shifted, switching the angle to the one directly above the closet, facing down, getting a full downward view of your breasts.

He groaned and reached down to palm at his cock that throbbed in his trousers, stroking the clothed flesh in languid motions, vein beating relentlessly along the length.

He let out a guttural groan when you bent over, slipping your shoes off and placing them on the rack within the closet.

He switched angles as you bent over again and pulled your pants off, revealing your cute ass peeking out from the cotton, cherry-print panties you wore.

He ripped his trousers down to his thighs and fisted his cock in his large hand. He was disappointed you didn't notice he went without boxers today, or maybe you had but were too shy to look.

You were putting on quite the show.

Surely, you couldn't be this naive, right? So innocent? You couldn't just believe some rich man would let you, a cute, sexy little thing live in his house without planting cameras in your room and bathroom?

You must know. You must simply know, and that is why you are sashaying your hips this way and that as you dump your clothes into the laundry bin and grab the vinyl bag containing your hygiene products.

He used his thumb to smear the stream of precum leaking viscously from the head of his cock, groaning as he switched the feed to your bathroom cameras.

He watched you place your pads and tampons in one of the drawers of the vanity, organize your oral hygiene products next to the sink. He studied each bottle of vitamins you placed, his eyes picking up the words "prenatal" on one.

He dropped his head back with a groan and rolled his hips, languidly stroking his dick as his eyes rolled back.

Prenatals. You weren't pregnant, he'd be able to smell it if you were. But already the thought of fucking you full of his cum played in his mind.

His head snapped up when he heard the shower turn on and he frantically switched the feed to the shower cam.

He watched and listened as you hummed a little song to yourself, giggling at the rainfall-like streams that filled the stall.

The way your lips parted and you made that little "oooh" sound had him wondering how you'd sound when he fucked you so hard your eyes crossed.

He began to pump his fist harder, the rivulets of precum giving him ample lubrication to stroke himself.

He ran a hand through his hair as he panted, watching you as you slowly slip your bra off and toss it to the floor, along with your panties.

His hand smashed the control after to change the camera to one that had a better angle of you.

He made a sound that was almost a whimper as you closed the stall door, stepping under the steamy water with a happy and content sigh.

Miguel bit at his bottom lip, fangs threatening to prick the plush skin.

Everything about you was cute and sexy, even that cute little patch of hair between your legs, cut into the shape of a heart.

The thought of lasering that hair off and replacing it with a permanent tattoo of his spider symbol... His own little brand...

He moaned loudly into the dark of his office, feeling his balls draw taut as his orgasm got closer.

Your hands lathered in shampoo, you started scrubbing your hair, your flesh jiggling deliciously as you rinse it out, nails scratching at your scalp.

He wondered what you'd do if he pulled your hair, what sounds you'd make.

He wondered how you'd do if he pulled your hair and made you choke on his cock.

"Mierda!" He hissed, pinching the base of his cock in an effort to stave off his orgasm.

Miguel continued to watch, giving himself teasing strokes as you conditioned your hair right after.

His fist pumped harder and faster when you began soaping up your hands to scrub your skin, cupping your breasts and brushing over your hard nipples.

His breathing was so fast he was practically hyperventilating, the tip of his cock leaking more and more, the length of it throbbing and twitching as you washed the soap off.

When you slipped your hands between your legs to clean yourself there, all Miguel could do was moan pornographically, grabbing at his balls and stroking his cock as he arched his hips off his chair, his thick ropes of cum painting his fingers and dripping down to his palm, splattering a part of his leg and the underside of his desk.

He dropped down, sighing as the buzz of his orgasm slowly faded.

He cut the feed to your room.

And in the dark, bright, ruby-red eyes opened and a fanged smile bloomed.

He was going to enjoy making you his.

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Pt. 2: Link

#yandere!miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse

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reticent-writer · 3 months

Note

heyyy PLEASE I NEEDD Vox x teen! Reader. Where she’s like the Vee’s assistant, or Vox’s assistant or something like that and she sees Vox as a father figure? Tyy

I like this alot

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

the most chaotic job in all of hell, like there is never a peaceful moment in the Vees tower. Someone is always yelling, something is always being broken, and you are in the middle of it. The peacemaker.

Your soul belongs to Vox but you assist all of the Vees. Your like 17/18. You were a hacker before you died, you hacked into the governments software and was killed for it.

You did the same thing to Vox but he didn't get mad instead he offered a secure home/job for your soul. (Seeing that everyone is dead that sounds silly but you shook his hand anyway)

If Vox isn't around to calm down Val and Velvette you're the next best thing. Valentino can talk your ears off as much as he wants and Velvette can use you as a model

In hell you can travel through electronics like Vox

Most of your time is spent with Velvette and Vox, mainly Vox. Vox has you do a lot of work that he trusts no one else with like going to the overlord meetings when no one else wants to

You are genuinely nice, like the other overlords wonder why you're working with the Vees

Your room doesn't have a door, so to get to your room you have to go through electronics to a backroom type of place. It's still in the Vees tower but no one but you or Vox and get to it.

Vox made it like this so if you wanted to be unbothered no one could even knock on your door.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚-Vox-˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

"Y/n are you awake."

You heard Vox from inside your room. You zapped you phone knowing that Vox you feel it. Basically saying you were getting up.

It took you 15 minutes to get ready before you teleported to the monitor room to find Vox watching random sinners on his big screen.

"I'm up, sir."

He dramatically spun his chair to face you.

"I hope it's been a hellish morning so far, what's on today's schedule."

You pulled out your phone and started to read off it, "the day doesn't start until 1 which is when the early talk show starts ot lasts until 3, at 5-7 is a game show, Velvette s show starts at 7, Valentino's live streaming a BDSM thing at 8, late night talk show at 10."

You looked at the time it was 8 am.

"Well since I'm free why don't we work on your mega computer." He offered. He likes how your face lit up and without wasting a second you dragged him to one of the quietest rooms in the building. In it was a desktop with a few wires connected to it.

Your mega computer was a project you started after you sold your soul. You hope it can connect to heaven one day and who is Vox to stop you.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚-Velvette-˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

You were in Fox's monitor room untangling cords.

"Y/N COME HERE." Velvette yelled at you through her phone.

You sighed as you stopped what you were doing and turn went through one of the many TVs.

"Yes, Vel." You smiled, clearly Vox was rubbing off on you.

"Something is missing with this outfit, tell me what it is." She pointed you in the direction of a mannequin with a outfit in your preferred style.

"(￣ヘ￣）ᵁᴹᴹ a (whatever you want)."

She hummed and with a snap of her fingers it appeared.

"Better right?"

"Yes."

"Good it's yours, take it" she snapped again and the outfit was in your hands, "no go put it on, I wanna see it."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me, put it on."

-It looked amazing-

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚-Valentino-˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

"Vox said your not aloud in the studio so the least your could do is read the script." He said as he handed you a think packed.

"Jailbird gets hard time" you read loud in disgust, "do you really think I should be reading this?"

He scoffed, "oh please it's not like I can't see your browser history. A03, wattpad, Quotev, fanfiction.net the list goes on."

You stared at him in disbelief.

"What... Aww is someone embarrassed." He squished your cheeks. Your face was beat red.

"Aw, Chiquita, I don't judge. You should see the more kinky scrips."

"Oh no thanks. I think I hear Vox calling me. Bye." You reached his pocket for his phone and with a poor you were gone.

After that you made it so no one could see any of your activity.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

A/n: I don't like Valentino. I love his voice tho

#hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin fluff #hazbin hotel fluff #female reader #teen reader #the vees x reader #platonic #reticent writes #reticent writer

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stvrni0lo · 11 months

Text

𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞

chris sturniolo x reader (fluff)

summary: you get a puppy for your birthday and chris gets jealous of the amount of attention that you give it

warnings/notes: none! lmk if i missed anything

requested: yes! tysm to the anon who requested. this is so cute :)

> > >

Your birthday was last week and Chris had wanted to surprise you with something that you’ve wanted for a while.

A puppy.

He asked Nick and Matt to come with him to the local shelter to find you a dog. He wanted your special day to be perfect, down to the very last and minute details.

Matt had ordered you a cake weeks before so it would be ready in time for your birthday - his job was to bring it over to your apartment early in the morning. Chris, of course, was granted with the responsibility of settling the dog into his new home. And lastly, but most importantly, Nick was in charge of making sure you were out of the house and distracted while this was all happening.

After using his spare key to your house, Chris made sure everything was in order by the time you and Nick arrived.

To say you were pleasantly surprised would be the understatement of the century.

As you held the newly adopted baby in your arms, you knew you two would be the best of friends. Especially with Chris being away often for work, what with all the travelling and filming, it got lonely around your apartment when he or his brothers weren’t visiting.

It would be nice to have some company - even if it was in the form of a house pet.

And how right you were. Cut to two weeks later and you were bringing the puppy around everywhere. Granted - he wasn’t much of a tiny thing anymore. He had grown immensely in the short time you had him, and you loved him more each and every day.

You named him Barney, per Chris’ suggestion.

Barney cuddled you to sleep each night, you ate breakfast with him next to you, and brought him out on walks every day.

To say Chris was slightly envious of Barney would be putting it lightly. It’s not that he didn’t love the dog - he really did - but sometimes Barney would be possessive of you.

At times when Chris would cuddle on the couch with you during a movie, Barney would squeeze in between you two. Being the loving and caring parent that you were, you let him take the space as he saw fit. You babied the hell out of him.

Once Chris tried to hug you as you were cooking, and Barney - thinking that your giggles were cries for help - began to bark and prod at his legs. He felt as if he could never have you alone for more than five seconds. Yet he also felt stupid for being jealous of a dog.

However, with a tour coming up, Chris decided to set him and Barney’s differences aside. He was glad that you wouldn’t be completely alone during his absence. So, as he left for the airport from your apartment, he threatened Barney with a quiet “you better take care of her” as he kissed you goodbye and bid his farewell.

Weeks had passed and the triplet’s flight back home was tomorrow morning.

You received a face-time call from the eldest brother late into the night. Answering, you were met with an overly smiley Nick.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” you asked, plopping on top of your bed onto your stomach. Caressing Barney’s soft fur, you waited for Nick’s response.

“Chris is madly jealous of Barney,” he blurted out.

From far into the background you could hear Chris’ voice ring out of your speaker.

“Am not!”

You snorted lightly.

You could tell they were in one of their sleep-deprived, energetic moods. How you missed that.

“Jealous? Of this tiny thing?” you said as you pointed the camera towards the dog. Barney woofed at the camera, wagging his tail upon seeing Nick.

Chris popped into view at the sound of Barney’s soft barks. Sitting next to Nick, he took the phone from his hands.

“Hey you better get away from my girlfriend, young man.”

Nick could be heard laughing in the background, seemingly growing more amused the more Chris bullied your dog.

“He’s my baby don’t speak to him like that,” you joked, also finding the situation humorous.

Chris’ eyes drooped as he continued talking. You could tell they were all tired as you caught a glimpse of Matt fast asleep in the background. It was probably late for them - and they had an early flight.

“Well don’t forget who your baby was first. Me!”

Nick fake gagged as he grabbed his phone back. He coo’d and baby talked Barney through the phone, ignoring Chris’ comments that he was a ‘little demon’. After having enough of Chris half-heartedly sulking at all the attention that Barney was getting from you, Nick decided to call it a night.

“Alright well I’m gonna get this green-eyed monster to bed. See you soon,” said Nick as he bid you goodnight and left you to your own devices.

As excited as you were to see Chris again, you fell into an easy slumber as Barney cuddled on top of you.

When you awoke, a slight shifting feeling shocked you from your peaceful state. Peeking your eyes open, you could see Chris taking Barney from your bed and leading him out of the room.

“Chris?” you mumbled out. “What’re you doing?”

Closing the door, he began slowly taking his jumper off and crawling under the sheets with you.

“I just want my girlfriend all to myself for one morning. No Barney interruptions.”

Stifling a laugh, you turned towards him to cuddle into his side. You kissed his neck as it was all you could reach - and in your half asleep state you didn’t feel like leaning up to greet him with a proper kiss.

“Welcome home,” you said, sighing into the crook of his neck.

Chris groaned.

“Not much of a welcome when your demon child growled at me when I walked into the room.”

“He’s just a baby, he’ll get used to you.”

All that was heard in reply was a scoff. He knew it was unreasonable to judge the dog so hard, but in his tired state he really could not handle sharing your attention. He had missed you while on tour, no way he was going to let an animal distract you from his return.

“I know he’s plotting against me. He wants you all to himself,” Chris joked.

“Don’t worry. ‘m all yours,” you mumbled before drifting off to sleep in his arms.

“All mine,” he whispered back.

Chris finally got what he wanted. A peaceful morning slumber with you in his embrace, and no hyperactive dog to steal your focus off of him.

The last thought he had as he joined you in falling asleep was that Barney’s nickname should be home wrecker.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets x reader #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets

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panic-in-the-multiverse · 11 months

Text

Venom

Pairings: father Miguel O’Hara x gn!teen!venom!reader, Venom x teen!reader

Imagine: what it would be like to be Miguel’s son and a spider-man along with venom, spider-venom? Idk guys

Warnings: mention of death, mention of parent death, mention of injuries, father Miguel O’Hara, idk what else, not proofread

A/N keep in mind the first part of this is before Gabriella died. Second I am aware that Miguel has a son somewhere out there in the comics, third don’t mind me referencing Moon Knight in some parts, lastly this is actually based on one of my ocs, but I made this fic x reader instead :)

Side note: I did imagine reader to be male (like my oc is) but I made it gn!reader so that everyone can read it

You lived on earth-TRN1042 (is that the name, it was when I searched it up, might be wrong tho), with you father Miguel O’Hara and your sister Gabriella O’Hara

Your canon event as tragic as it is was to watch as your father died — which would eventually lead you to become Spider-Man

You’d been bitten a few days prior and was still adjusting to the whole power thing

But we are getting ahead of ourselves, Here’s the thing Miguel (earth-928) lost his family on his earth and when he found out a way to go into other earths he found your earth. The one where he still had a happy family

His original plan was to just watch from afar, but when your father died, Miguel made the rash decision to take your fathers place, which didn’t go as smoothly as he thought, after all you had watched your father die

At first you thought you were going crazy when you first saw Miguel, apparently he’d been with your sister all day. You didn’t trust him one but, you knew for a fact your father was dead so when you saw him playing with Gabriella and her dolls you were in shock, you’d told Gabriella to go to her room, once she did the interrogation started, you’d felt your father take his last breath so you sure as hell would find out who this imposter was.

“Who are you?”

“I’m your father”

“No, no, no, no, I watched my father die, who are you?”

Miguel knew you wouldn’t stop your interrogation until you knew what was going on, this led to him giving you a long explanation about different earths, his family and everything in between, how he got his powers and literally his whole life story, only to ensure that you would let him stay, he wouldn’t stay against your wishes

You let him stay, not only because you knew what loss felt like, but you hadn’t told Gabriella yet and you didn’t know how you could tell her that her actual father was dead, and it would prove to be good to have an adult raise your little sister with you, so you let Miguel stay, eventually you saw him as your father too, Gabrielle being none the wiser when it came to her fathers true identity.

The first time you called Miguel “dad” or something alike, he was overjoyed

Miguel didn’t really enjoy you going out to beat bad guys up but he never told you not to, he knew why you did it so he never stopped you, and he used to do it so it would be kinda hypocritical of him to force you to stop, instead he’d be at home, and every time you snuck in through your window you could find Miguel in the living room ready to patch you up, telling you of every time for being reckless and getting hurt so many times

Don’t be offended when he calls you an “reckless idiot” (he’d probably say it in Spanish though) when you get home nearly half dead (Miguel might of overreacted a bit)

It was around this time when you started to get memory gaps from time to time, some fights you didn’t even remember how you defeated the enemy, and some days you woke up in an alleyway, (kinda like Steven in episode one of moon knight)

Before it all went to shit I’d like to think that Miguel gave up on the spider-man part of him and was just a single dad with his two kids working a boring job — not at Alcehmax, he won’t do that mistake again

You all lived rather peacefully for the most part, you’d help Gabriella get better at football/soccer, going to an ice cream shop every time after one of Gabriella’s matches, loss or win didn’t matter there was always ice cream after a match.

And then in a single day it all got taken away from you, in just a couple of minutes all you had ever known was gone

Your whole earth started to disappear along with the people in it, you’d been out on your daily spider-man patrols when it happened, you saw your father/Miguel running with Gabriella and so instead of trying to stop whatever was happening — or more like knowing you couldn’t stop it as you had no clue what it was — you went into the direction of your family.

And when your sister disappeared you didn’t know what to do anymore, Miguel at least able to think somewhat took your hand and soon enough you were on earth-928, and from a screen you watched as your dimension disappeared into nothingness

This left many questions and problems but the question you were mostly focused on was the fact that you hadn’t disappeared

Turns out the spider that bit you had bonded (idk if this works but it does now) with a symbiote — Venom — who was from another earth, and when the spider bit you, you’d not only gained spider-powers but Venom transferred over to you and the two of you bonded, this changed your DNA and caused you to be able to coexist on your own earth along with the earth that Venom was from (does this make sense ain’t got a single clue)

Turns out Venom hadn’t made an appearance (to your knowledge and Miguel’s) because he protected you whenever you couldn’t yourself, and all those memory gaps that you had was the times that Venom had taken over (you know kinda like Jake with Steven and Marc in Moon Knight)

Fast forward a bit and you’d joined the spider-society

You had learned to coexist with Venom, it took some time but it worked out in the end, at first people would think you were crazy as you yelled at nothing (except for you you were talking to Venom who was speaking inside your mind), a lot of spider-people stayed away from you not wanting to be near Venom as he is supposed to be a villain, but when they realized you were one of the good guys they stopped avoiding you and Venom

Venom would deny it to his grave but he is extremely protective over you, if anyone hurt you he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt/kill/eat them

Miguel also became way more protective, after he lost Gabriella he only had you left and he would only send you out on the easy missions — that is until you snuck out on one of their worsts missions and got hurt because no one else new you were there — cue Miguel letting you go on dangerous missions so that you wouldn’t sneak out again and possibly die, at leas if he knew where you were he could make sure you didn’t die.

Not only did Miguel become more grumpy and strict with all the rules, you also become a lot more grumpy as you grieved your sister, and friends

And then all the shit with Miles happened but that’s for part 2,3 (part 2 siding with Miles, part 3 siding with Miguel idk which will come out first)

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zujime · 3 months

Text

─── vi

cw. best friend’s ex! vi, fluff, implied fem reader (no pronouns used tho), acquaintances to lovers, (slight) slow burn, cuddles, sharing a bed, movie nights, pet names mentioned: princess, babe, hun, gorgeous.

note. a lil somthing i conjured up during my period insomnia :)) I'm running on one hour of sleep ya'll mrgh... anyway, should i make another part?

best friend’s ex! vi who you only ever saw in passing when she was still with your bestie. why they broke up was always a topic your friend never really expanded upon but they got off on somewhat good terms—though you do recall the prolonged stares vi would give you when she’d come by.

best friend’s ex! vi who you happened to stumble upon when going to get your lunch at the cafe that was across from your job right after you finished your shift. you remember hearing that she wasn’t really a fan of the food here because “the food ’s just glorified hospital food”, though the silly jab at her comment is caught in your throat when she greets you; silver eyes soft as they flicker between your eyes, scarred lips curling into a shy smirk as the velvety soft sound of her voice reaches your ears.

best friend’s ex! vi who you gave your number to after that same encounter to keep in touch—she’d text you during your breaks to ask silly questions and take your mind off work stress and later call you after your shifts end. and those calls end up lasting far longer than intended, either up until someone falls asleep or till someone’s phone dies.

best friend’s ex! vi who takes three weeks to ask if you wanna hang out, you know, as friends? inviting you over for a movie night at her place on your day off to watch the movies you’d been dying to watch but never got around to. you were able to get through the first two but as soon as the third movie started, you began nodding off before vi felt your head softly fall onto her taut shoulder—your lashes ghosting the exposed skin as you slept peacefully, drooling a little.

best friend’s ex! vi who chuckles slightly at the sight and at the warm, heart-swelling feeling you give her whenever you call, text—hell, whenever she sees your face. she turns the tv off before picking you up and tucking you in her bed before she goes to sleep on the couch.

best friend’s ex! vi who you wake up and walk down the hall to see laid out on the couch, limbs hanging off the couch from under the soft blanket she had on—low mumbles could be heard from her sleeping form, faint yet audible, though they’re cut short as she stretches and slides a hand over her face in hopes of wiping away the sleep, eyelids heavy as she peers at you.

“how long have you been watching me?” her voice still carried the taunt with a softness as she spoke groggily. you feel your face grow warm at her question, despite it being a tease but you brush it off and thank her for letting you stay the night even though none of you intended to have a sleepover. she hums in response before getting up off the couch. “it was like—three in the morning—and i am not some asshole who would’ve just let you go home alone, princess.” the pet name slid so effortlessly off her tongue as she passed by you, to go shower.

best friend’s ex! vi who you find yourself hanging out with more and more, and the pet names she’d give you only seemed to grow—not like you had a problem with it. she’d call you things like babe, princess, and hun far more than she’d ever say your actual name, she even calls you gorgeous, though rather sparingly because sometimes she feels like she’s going a little too far.

best friend’s ex! vi who you refuse to tell your bestie about every time she asks what you’re thinking about whenever you zone out during your monthly outings.

“what’s with that face?” she inquires, giggling a bit at the shamelessly lovesick expression you wore. “what face? what’re you talking about?” you snap back to reality, eyeing your friend anxiously as you listen to her response. “you know, that face people make in those really cheesy romcoms from the 2000s when they’d just met the love of their life or something…” she trailed off, now squinting at you in suspicion. “...are you seeing someone?” “...” “hello?!” “girl, no! i’m thinking about when imma get my mfing food.”

best friend’s ex! vi who you practically live with at this point—because of how often you two have sleepovers, she has a majority of your belongings all around her apartment; your clothes in her closet and dresser, your extra toothbrush and hair products, fav foods/snacks and drinks in the fridge, etc. though, she still insists on sleeping on the couch whenever you stay over despite you stating you have no problem sharing the bed. eventually, she caved—reluctant at first as she squirmed under the comforter to get comfortable beside you until she finally was able to fall asleep.

best friend’s ex! vi who at first when sharing the bed with you, would often wake up to make sure she wasn’t crowding your space or being touchy in any way. but the moment she woke up to your arms draped over her frame, she softened and decided to just let herself sleep—burying her face in the crook of your neck and holding you close as she slept, yet she still tries to be mindful of her movement so she doesn’t wake you.

best friend’s ex! vi who you realize is a huge sucker for physical affection. oftentimes brushing her hand against yours in hopes of holding it but hesitantly refraining from interlocking fingers when in public. and when the two of you are alone, she desperately leans into whatever you give her—head scratches, movie night cuddles, pinky holding, tracing her tattoos with your fingers, anything.

best friend’s ex! vi who realizes she has feelings for you during one of your typical movie nights, but the look you gave her when the movie ended—eyes reflecting the television screen so prettily as you tilt your head slightly to peer up at her before speaking, but whatever it was you said had completely gone through one ear and out the other as the skin of her ears slowly became a deep red.

"fuck." was the only thought that crossed her mind as she stared at your soft eyes. "vi?" you murmur, a little worried at the expression she wore. but she abruptly stands up before excusing herself and heading to the bathroom.

best friend’s ex! vi who you spent the last few days worrying about—is she ok? is she sick? did you make her uncomfortable? thoughts seemed to race through your head endlessly until she asks if you could come over real quick, through a text.

best friend’s ex! vi who—despite having met multiple people before—gets nervous when you step foot in her apartment. in her eyes, the feeling of her words falling messily from her lips as she spills her guts to you feels weird. but when you creep close to her—lips mere inches from hers as your breaths mingled and eyes heavy-lidded—that feeling dissipates.

best friend’s ex! vi who gets lost in the sea that is your lips as you drown in the feelings she was too scared to show you. callous hands slotting themselves needily on each side of your face, pulling you deeper into the kiss with every shared breath, begging never to part. almost as if accepting her request, you rest a hand against hers, smiling into the searing kiss before finally pulling away for air and softly gazing up at her silver orbs.

#reader insert #arcane #arcane vi #arcane violet #arcane imagines #arcane fanfic #arcane x reader #vi arcane x reader #vi imagine #vi x reader #vi x you #vi x y/n #fluff #arcane fluff #vi fluff #arcane x female reader #arcane x you #arcane x y/n

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