#you can't tell me he doesn't like it when you get bossy with him

[usernameforaboredcat]

Little Babies

It was just like any other day, how could it get so wrong and now your boyfriend is an itty bitty little kid. You still love him of course, how could you not when he looks so cute and tiny!?

I read @trafalgarvivi story and I couldn't help but love it and want to add to it. Hope you don't mind babes, if you want me to take this down I will just ask <3

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Luffy

Luffy as a child wasn't any different from how he is as an adult. Still fun, cute and hyperactive as always. He'll probably be bouncing off the walls when he's in a nursing home.

You can't help but giggle and squeal at the sight of your tiny captain, who's just looking back up at you with big eyes. "What?". He asks. You squeal again as you drop down to his height, still being taller than him. "Awhahaaawww you're so adorable! Do you want anything to eat?". You ask the tiny boy. "YEAH!". He cheers, throwing his arms up in the air excitedly. You giggle as his energy and pick him up into your arms, taking him to the kitchen.

Sanji was already annoyed that you where feeding into his terrible eating habits and babying him so much. But he's just so cute! And Sanji couldn't not listen to you, even if you are taken he's still attracted to you.

You'd spend the whole day playing with him, doing what ever he wanted whenever he wanted. Luffy much preferred this side of you, you where less bossy and so much cooler like this.

~

Sanji

When I tell you you cried when you saw your sweet handsome as a kid, you where balling your eyes out. Not because he wasn't his tall fine ass self, but because he's just so God darn adorable in your eyes. Cuddling him close to your chest, cooing and giggling while calling him the most cutest and most beautiful boy in the world. Not like he minded it, he loved your undying attention.

He spent his time as a kid clinging to your side, resting on either your chest or lap while getting absolutely babied by you. He never realizes how much power he had until you saw his cute little self.

And oh the power he had over that Swordsman, Sanji could practically get away with murder and you'd back him up. He'd purposely piss Zoro off just to have him pick him up and yell at him, only for you to come to his rescue. "HOW DARE YOU YELL AT HIM! HE'S JUST A BOY! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU YOU AWFUL MONSTER!". And Zoro would be left speechless, only eyeing the disgusting smirk across Sanjis face.

Him still being Sanji it didn't stop him from being a little pervert, only getting stopped when you'd have to push him away and remind him "You're still a baby, baby. If you want anything like that you'll have to wait till you're an adult again". Even if he did cry, that doesn't change the fact of hey you're still an adult and he's a little baby. But he waited, just so he can still enjoy the baby treatment.

~

Zoro

Zoro had always been a cheeky little fucker, easily getting into fights or starting some sort of commotion. You had to pick him up by the collar of his shirt and carry him away like a mother cat when Sanji picked a fight with him. He really didn't want to deal with being small and weak, so he just tried to sleep it off while he waited to get back to his tall strong self. He much preferred his older body anyway, he was strong and could protect you after all. He also knew that you really liked his muscles.

And he did try to just sleep it off, finding a little spot in the sun to sleep, eventually you coming over and using your lap as a pillow. He may be a tiny little mans, but he's still your boyfriend that you love to take care of.

Later that evening he'd awoken to his head on your lap, you sleeping while sitting upright. "Stupid woman". He mutter, getting off and walking to your shared bedroom. He'd grabbed your pillow and a blanket, dragging them out. He'd slowly pushed you to lay your head on the pillow and threw the blanket over you, crawling under next to you to get spooned by you.

The crew found this little soft side of Zoro cute, although he kinda always had a soft spot for you. I mean you two are dating after all, he wouldn't be dating you of he didn't have that soft spot.

~

Ace

He'd always been sorta glad that he grew out of his stinky attitude he had as a child, what his didn't know was that if he got turned back into a child his little goblin mode was activated. You'd be running all over the ship, picking him up and hugging him while he flailed around. Not only is he now kid Ace, but he's kid Ace with devil fruit powers.

You'd have to pinch him by the cheek, getting an annoyed look from your little boyfriend. "I know you're having fun, but please baby don't burn down the ship". You'd requested him. He'd just blush and nod. "Fine". He puffed out. "Thank you, darling! I promise that you'll be a good boy". You giggled. His face went more red. He was 50/50 about how you treated him. 1. He was being babied by you. 2. He was being babied by you.

He's a strong brave buff mans! He doesn't need to be babied by his girlfriend. But he did like you just taking care of him, also being a little fuckass. He was aware of the jealous on board, a few of the other pirates being jealous that he was dating you. He used this knowledge, cuddling comfortably into your chest.

When lunch time rolled around, he was sitting on your lap with his head against you chest, getting spoon fed by you. The other men looked at the now young Ace when angry glares. When you're not looking he'd flip them off and poke his tongue out.

~

Sabo

You'd be lying to yourself if you didn't think that Sabo is a very pretty man. You find him beautiful, stunning, gorgeous, you'd literally preach to the world about how your boyfriend was hand crafted and sculpted by Gods!...But...we hasn't exactly the most...cute...child.

He looks up at you compleatly lost as you're covering your mouth, loosing your shit laughing and crying. "What? What's wrong?". He asked, worried for your health. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry but..." You looked at him with tears in your eyes. "You glowed up so much". You whimpered out, now back on the floor and rolling away. "ARE YOU CALLING ME UGLY?!". He yelps, you roll away faster. Then he started to cry, thinking that you didn't find him attractive anymore. Yes, you made your poor boyfriend cry.

You spent the rest of the day babying him and making it up to him, reassuring him that you find him so handsome as an adult. He tried to go to Koala for back up, but she ended up joining you in the crying and laughing. He's definity going to give you the silent treatment when he gets his old body back.

You just held him and hugged him for the rest of the day, him still being angry and grumpy at the fact you insulted him. "Don't worry Sabo, you're not ugly ugly, more like ugly cute! Like a kitten with the big sad depression eyes!". You tell him, but he pouts and turns away, crossing his arms. "Oh come on! You grew out of it! You're literally the pretties man I know". He looks up at you with tears in his eyes. "I am?". "Of course!".

~

Law

You just looked down at him with utter confusion. "Are you suuuur-". "THIS IS THE 7TH TIME YOU ASKED! YES IT'S ME LAW! TRAFALGAR D. WATER LAW!". "...But are you sure?". Little Law looks NOTHING like how he does as an adult, like who in the hell is this kid. Not only did Law have to deal with your stupid ass doubting that he was actually you're boyfriend, but also dealing with his crew laughing and cracking jokes.

He eventually convinced you that it was him by him telling you your birthday, your favourite snack, drink, crewmate that wasn't him (Bepo), book, the names and birthdays and zodiac signs of everyone in your family. The FINALLY did you back him up, yelling at his crewmates who where making fun of him for being young. "HOW DARE YOU MAKE JOKES AT HIM! HE'S A LITTLE SWEET BABY!". Meanwhile he's looking at his crew with empty dark eyes. Yeah...sweet.

It felt weird for him to ask you for help, especially when it comes to reaching for stuff. "(Y/n)". He yanked on your clothes. "Yes darling?". "Can you grab me a rice ball? I'm hungry and can't reach". You squealed and happily held the rice ball down to him. "Of course!".

He's the one who's supposed to help you, standing behind you and reaching for something on a high shelf, giving you a cheeky smirk as you'd puff out your cheeks and take it from him. But now you're giggling with stars in your eyes as you reach and hold things down for him. After lunch he's fixing this issue.

[diorcities]

⠀   ⠀ ── ㅤ୧⠀ׂ ★‌ nct dream having a bossy gf !

nct dream sfw headcanon. library.

said by the dreamies themselves, jisung can't live alone, which to me translates to having someone tell him what to do. plus, he actually likes it, he thinks it's tender that you care about him, he feels loved when you ask him if he has eaten and in the negative when you tell him to do so. or when you constantly remind him to wear a coat and take breaks. while to others it would look a bit bossy, jisung knows that you do it because you worry too much about his well-being, and for him, that just goes to show that the love you feel for him is the same love he feels for you.

haechan is the typical boyfriend who would stop whatever he was doing to do what you say... and also the type to ignore you to the point where you lose your composure because he likes to see you upset; he finds it cute. but, seriously, he'd be attracted to bossy girls because then he can romp around and make out. don't expect too much from him, you never know. i think he likes the teasing but eventually, he'd do what you want, pretending to take orders from his superior commander type of thing.

jeno, being the man he is, would do anything you want. he likes to keep you happy, and he is also very indecisive when making decisions, he would leave them in your hands, and he would just follow whatever you choose. it's not that you control everything he does, jeno knows that sometimes it's better to listen to you because you know better. the type of boyfriend who says you're always right and therefore does what you tell him, but not because you're bossy, god forbid; he would never think and/or say that... in front of you.

there are no times when you can be bossy with renjun. there is no bone of contention. usually what he does is the most seated. you're probably feeling anxious because you really want to be bossy with him, but it's almost impossible: the boy knows what he's doing, not a single thought of yours that hasn't already crossed his mind. with him, it would be 50/50. he loves you so much that he'd pretend to do what you say even when it's what he was going to do just to see you happy and because it looks like you'll have a meltdown if he doesn't.

mark finds it hot when you boss him around. yes, tell him what else you want him to do, and he'll do it. you know better than he does what is best for him, he trusts you completely, although sometimes he may try to convince you of something that has entered his head. he'll make you see that it's a good idea even if you're not too sure; you feel guilty because it's like you're in control of everything, but seriously, he likes it when you do, because most of the time, you're right.

don't tell chenle what to do. period. there's no way it's going to happen unless he's already thought about doing it. once an idea has entered his head, there's no way you're going to get it out of it. he won't give in, forget it, unless it ends badly, then he might beg for your opinion after you swore never to tell him anything again. sometimes he may spoil you and do what you say, but don't get used to it because usually he just does what he wants. finds you cute, tho, for trying.

jaemin follows what you say most of the time because it's the sensible thing to do and because he's not very confrontational; not that going against you would end in a fight, but jaemin prefers to avoid divisions or taking sides on things. he's alright and compliant with you most of the time, but when he doesn't, he thinks that the solution to everything is communication, and talking you through the reason behind why he has decided not to do what you wanted.

© diorcities / tagging @tddyhyck ♡

[autumn-hiraeth]

Shower time!

Hobie brown x reader

Slight NSFW. NO MINORS PLS 🔞

Where Hobie arrives at your bath time.

a/n: writer's block sucks.

You can find more here “ Hobie's masterlist”

Hobie smiles when he hears the water running in the shower, he feels lucky to find you at your bath time.

So he doesn't hesitate to take off his worn shirt and drop his pants along with his boxers. (His clothes thrown in your living room while he walks naked through your flat).

He's missed you so much that he doesn't hesitate to go into the bathroom and open the curtain, his dick instantly gets hard when he sees you naked and smiling at him.

Hobie doesn't believe him in luck, but he feels like the luckiest man.

"Hi love" you greet him, you can't help looking at him, up and down, your gaze stop more than necessary on his fat cock and you can feel your pussy getting wet - and you know it's not because of the water -

Hobie smirks as he follows your gaze, this guy loves the attention.

"Do ya like what ya see pretty girl?" your face feels warm and then you're finally able to take your eyes off his pretty cock. No need to say out loud what you want, he knows his girl.

“Don't start Hobie and get your ass over here.” your lover laughs, he loves it when you're so bossy. Finally Hobie wraps you in his arms, you gasp softly as you feel his hard length hit your ass.

“Someone's eager” you tease him, then Hobie slides down his long fingers inside your folds.

“You're the one who's soaked luv” he murmurs in amusement before kissing your neck.

Jesus, Hobie missed this, he won't leave you for more than a week because he knows he could die without you and your pussy.

"Shut up and just fuck me Hobie" you say making him hum pleased, then he spins you on your heels, looks into your eyes and with a sensual voice, he tells you: "spread your legs f'me luv"

[luveline]

hi jade! can I make a request for kbd au, maybe one of the girls gets sick or is in the hospital and Steve and r trying to take care of her and the other girls but are worried themselves. pls ignore if you don’t like this love your writing:)))

ty for requesting! ily i hope this is ok ♡ kisses before dinner —you and beth spend some time in the hospital. mom!reader, 1.5k

“Mom?” 

“Yeah?” 

Bethie looks up in your lap with red-rimmed eyes, her eyelids puffy. They look so sore. You bring your hand up to touch her cheek. 

“When's everyone coming back?” 

You lean back in her hospital bed and pull her against your chest. “Soon, baby. So soon. Are you missing everyone?” 

“Yeah. Avery said, um, that she would let me,” —she rubs her little nose into your collar— “sleep in her bed with her when I go home.” 

Bethie will be sleeping in your bed for a while so you can keep an eye on her, but you let her believe it because she sounds very eager. 

For now, you aren't sure when she'll be going home, but certainly not tonight. She's having trouble breathing at night, and her skin warms yours with the intensity of a space heater. “You're not enjoying our big sleepover?” you ask. Four days and counting, you've slept here every night in chairs slumped over her lap or briefly in the foldout cot beside her. 

She was too sick to remember the first two days, but now she's getting better she's realised you're doing something strange together, and she may be poorly, but she seems particularly pleased to have your undivided attention. “I love it!” she says in a rush, prompting a wracking cough into your shirt. You rub her back. “Sorry.” 

“If you need to cough, you do it, baby.” You bring a tissue up to her mouth and clean away the spittle. “Don't be sorry. Cough all over me.” 

You hold her close. You didn't need Steve to tell you to take care of her to do it, but you can't get the memory of the run up to Beth's hospital stay out of your head.

I think– I think we need to take her to Urgent Care. His sickly terror, but his surety, too. Steve was gonna make whatever decision he needed to and you couldn't have stopped him (and wouldn't want to). By the time you called Robin to watch the others, your girl getting sicker and sicker, Beth couldn't keep her eyes open. 

Not you nor Steve nor Beth made it home that night. Steve, squinting with a migraine, had relented in the early morning. You'll stay and I'll go home, he'd said. You wouldn't call it selfish to want to be the one to stay, but it was selfless of him to volunteer to go home. He hasn't once asked you to leave her side. So you look after her for me, too. You have to do double. 

“Here, my love,” you murmur, bringing a sippy cup to her lips. Doesn't matter that she's too old for it. “It's just juice, don't worry. No more medicine.” 

“I miss daddy,” she says, pushing the cup away. 

“I know. He should be here any minute now, yeah? And when he comes he's going to be all worried and bossy about how you're feeling, so let's drink this juice. It'll make your voice less crackly.” 

“Is it crackly?” she asks, surprised. 

“Yeah, babe,” you say with a laugh, “it's like crunchy sugar, you can't hear it?”

“What?” she asks, giggling between little coughs. 

You hold her cup to her lips. She values her father's esteem for you, drinking her juice and settling back into your arms just in time for him to arrive. He has yet to be mad at you during this time, but you're sure he'd threaten violence if Bethie wasn't getting all the attention and care that could possibly be given. The first thing he says is, “Hello, my girl, how are you feeling today?” 

You try not to rush her out of your arms and into his, but he has company. Steve picks Bethie up from your arms with the same slow hesitance he'd hold a newborn, his lips quick to the top of her head. “Sweetheart,” he says softly, “hello,” before he goes completely silent. 

Robin stands behind him with your teeny tiny baby held in her car carrier with both hands, and Avery and Dove toddle in front of them with matching grins. You slink off of the bed and crouch down, nearly knocked on your butt as they rush you. 

“I missed you! I missed you so much!” you shower their cheeks with kisses before pulling them in for hugs. Over their heads, you give Robin your best smile. “How's she doing?” 

“She misses you. Or she hates me. Either or.” 

“You're the best friend in the entire world.” You close your eyes into the cuddling. “She loves you.” 

Steve sits down on the side of the bed and rubs Bethie's back, all but covering the short breadth of it with spread fingers stroking up and down. “You look better today,” he says. He speaks softly. You have to strain to understand him. “Did mommy give you a shower? You look sparkly clean.” 

Bethie curls into him. 

“I missed you,” he says. “I miss you every second you're not home, I can't wait for you to come home.” He looks up at you. You shake your head gently. “But how about this hospital bed, huh? This looks comfy. Can I lie down?” 

Steve lays down in the bed with Beth against his chest. He looks super tired, his eyes wrinkled in the corners and his jaw set in pain. Bethie rises up to squish her cheek against his. Steve makes a kiss sound. “Aw, Beth. Love you.” 

Dove wants to be on the bed —this is a vaguely new place to her and she's a toddler. She whines until you lift her up, while Robin puts Wren's car seat in a vinyl chair and sets about unclicking her straps.

“Is she feeling better?” Avery asks, holding up her hands. 

You walk into her outstretched arms. “She is. Not one hundred percent better, but better. She just needs to stay a little bit longer.” 

“How long?” 

“What did the doctor say this morning, Beth?” you ask with a smile. “Just one more night for checks. Then hopefully tomorrow we can all go home.” 

It takes a while to get everyone settled. Robin sits in one of the chairs and you the other, Wren placed in her car carrier to your left. Avery climbs into your lap, and you find no reason to dissuade her from sprawling backwards, her head under your chin. Steve hugs Beth with a palpable relief about him, though he holds Dove's hand when the smaller girl insists. It's surprisingly peaceful. There's nothing to do but wait for your girl to get better. 

“I missed you,” Steve says again, Beth hanging on his every word, “I can't remember the last time you spent so long away from home. Are you and mommy having a good time?” 

“My–” Beth struggles for words, her chest giving a weak wheeze, “my voice is funny.” 

“You think so?” He brings his legs up, eyes closing as Beth does the same. “Sounds the same to me.” 

You can't miss the way he's hugging her. You've never seen him so relieved. It lingers in his every touch, every word he says, even as he makes his silly jokes. 

Steve spends at least ten minutes like that laying with them before he looks up. “Ave, you still need the bathroom?” 

Avery jolts. “Thanks for reminding me!” She springs up on her feet. “Mom, will you come with me?” 

“Sure I will.” You stand with her, giving Wren a quick glance over before sidling up to the side of the bed. Steve looks up at you funny. “Steve?” 

“What?” 

You lean down to his ear. “Honey, will you stay with Beth tonight? Just so I can see the baby? I can't stand being away from Beth when she's sick, but I'm really worrying about her,” you whisper. 

Steve's eyes widen. “Are you sure?” 

He's not stupid. He knows what you're doing. 

You nod quickly. You could say a lot of things to him —of course I'm sure, you should've stayed two days ago, you've been so good letting me be here with her— but Avery tugs on your hand, winging, and you only have time to touch Beth's back. She'll be in good hands. 

Beth is upset to see you go that night, but she missed her dad. Steve hugs each of the girls in turn while Beth lays tucked in bed, even Robin, who laughs and complains about his touchiness and how it gets worse every year. You wait with them in your coat for your turn, sick to your stomach.

“I'll call you before nine,” he promises, squeezing you tightly. “You did such a good job, Y/N.” 

“...What, no joke about leaving it to the pro?” 

“I'm being thoughtful.” Steve kisses you, hugs you again, kisses you a second time. He can't decide what he's doing. “I love you. I'll see you in the morning.” 

You kiss his cheek. It takes you another fifteen minutes to leave, busy making Bethie promises. I'll see you tomorrow, I love you so much, brave girl, your dad's gonna take the best best best care of you ever. And then we're gonna spend the next week in bed so we can stop missing each other so much. 

[thoughtsforsoob]

Could you do domming txt for the first time?

a/n: yes! thank you for this request anon! i love it. hopefuly i can live up to your expectations! inbox is always open. to those who have sent requests, i will get to them when i have an opportunity. i am doing them in order in which i have recieved them.

yeonjun

here’s the link to the anon post where I answered this in a bit more depth

soobin

everyone (moa's) pretty much universally agree that he likes to be led in a relationship so domming him is going to be to simple and it'll flow perfectly. you both get what you want out of it! he gets told what to do and you get to do whatever you want with him. the part he loves the mot is when you're riding him or somehow on top of him and you start to degrade him or call him names. he knows it's supposed to be humiliating but he just can't help but feel like he's going to burst when you call him a dumb whore. overall, he loves it and hopes you'll do it to him often.

beomgyu

i know this is the popular opinion but he loves to be dommed and has been secretly hoping you'd ask him since the first time you 2 had sex. he's such a brat so believe me, domming him for the first time is going to be a learning experience. he doesn't go easy on you either. he's acively defying you and saying "no!" every chance he get's. once you assert your domminance, he eventually starts to behave but you still have to punish him or he'll never learn his lesson. you better believe that he is going to ask to be dommed at least once a week. (he want's to be fucked during one of these sessions but that is for another time ;)

taehyun

this does not happen often with him at all! taehyun, to me at least, is someone who likes to take care of his partner in a way that he can control. so, when you ask to dom him, he is going to be skeptical. should he let you or is he going to feel infreiour half way through? he finlly let's you do it one night when the two of you had got home from a night of drinking with friends. he let's you undress him and get on top of him. he likes seeing you on top of him but does not like having no control of your movements. half way through, he grabs your hips and moves when he couldn't take it anymore.

huening kai

he is very sheepish when it comes to being dommed for the first time. especially by you. a pretty girl is telling him what to do? what if he doesn't do it right? he couldn't stop over thinking until you pinned him down with his hands above his head. he stops thinking and just let's you take over. i think the aspect he likes the most about you domming him is letting you chase your own pleasure by just using him. he could care less if he cums but he you don't, all hell breaks loose. he also loves whne you're bossy. he's all flustered and listening to your every instruction. he let's you dom him whenever you want because he's just a really sweet bf who does whatever his girl wants.

[butchcarmy]

Blood Orange (Ch 2: The Bathroom)

Carmy Berzatto x Reader (R18, MDNI)

Rating: E (5.7k)

links: fic playlist, pinterest board, ao3 link, ch 1

Chapter Summary: No more fucking your boss. That’s what you’ve been telling yourself, but he doesn’t make it easy, even as you find yourself wanting to scream. Somehow it all falls away when you lower yourself to your knees before him. You don’t know if there’s any stopping this anymore. 

Content Tags: work sex, blow jobs, mouth fucking, CUM PLAY, dom/bossy carmy, coworkers with benefits, carmy being difficult, mental illness, they/them reader, gender neutral reader, the usual

A/N: WHEW. It’s here! Thanks for waiting y’all. I think I embarrassed myself writing this one (flushed emoji). It’s ramping up. Next chapter is gonna be big one. Let me know what you guys think, and enjoy! <3

Before you go to work the next morning, you make yourself come on your fingers. It would've been twice if you had more time. 

You open your eyes waking from a dream with his ghostly blue eyes and low voice, and you already know you're wet before you even touch yourself. The pads of your reaching fingers chase the tender spot Carmy stroked inside of you, but they don't quite make it. Of course they don't. 

Fingering yourself eases the ache for a little while. On the early morning transit with headphones over your ears, you still manage to find yourself aching for him. The music doesn't cover up the sound of his voice, and you catch yourself grimacing in the faint reflection of the dirty metro windows. 

This is not a good way to start your second day at work.

Since you left the walk-in yesterday, Carmy's been following you around like a mosquito in the summer, whizzing around your head, buzzing in your ears. You can't rid your thoughts of him. When you close your eyes, you're trapped in the fridge with him, again, and his fingers are deep inside you. 

Fuck. You're standing in front of the restaurant, willing yourself to go in. Just stop it, you think to yourself. 

You really should be more mad at him. He technically never apologized for insulting you, but you suppose you didn't expect him to in the first place. You didn't usually get apologies at places like this, from people like him. You don't want to get in the bad habit of expecting good things from broken people.

No more fucking your boss, you think resolutely to yourself, and that's the thought you meditate on as you open the door. 

By this time yesterday, there were already a couple of people floating around the kitchen. Today, you find dim lights and silence. Your footsteps feel too loud on the white linoleum as you walk to the lockers to drop off your stuff. You can’t pretend to understand the schedule yet.

“Carmen?” You pace around again as you secure your apron with a tie. No response. Surely he's here, at least. Someone had to open the place. 

You take a couple more steps when you hear his voice. 

“No, I'm not—that's not what I was sayin’.” The direction of his voice sounds like it's coming from his office. “Of course I miss him. Sugar—” A pause. “I know. Yeah. It's bullshit.” He laughs then, you think. You can't measure how genuine it is. “You're bullshit. Look, I'll call you back later, okay? And I'll—yeah, I'll look at it. Promise. Yeah. Bye.”

It's quiet after that. You're standing there, not sure what to do with yourself when you hear footsteps. Sure enough, Carmy pops out of the office, and you catch just a glimpse of something haunted in him before surprise takes over.

“Hi,” you say at the same time he says, “Jesus Christ.”

“How long have you been here,” he asks, as you go, “That's an interesting way to pronounce my name.”

“Um,” you start, and he stares at you blankly, unreactive to your joke. Too early, you guess. “I just got here.”

“Okay. Cool. Uh…” Anxiety radiates off of him, making his hands fidget and run through untamed hair. Not that you were looking at his hands at all. “You’ll be doin’ prep again.”

“Alright.” You expected as such. You’ll probably be on prep for the rest of the week, if not the month. That’s how most places go, but this isn’t most places. 

“Your station was dirty when you left yesterday.” You walk up to your station, and it’s spotless. “I had to clean it before I left.”

“Ah. I’m sorry about that,” you apologize quickly. I was preoccupied with other things, you think bitterly to yourself, thinking of locked doors and heated kisses. Not that you’ll mention it. “I’ll make sure to clean it this time.”

“Prep’s gonna be a bit different today,” he says, completely ignoring your apology. You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from snapping. “You’re gonna inspect produce, and then you’ll prep the stock again. Correctly this time.”

“It was nearly perfect, I just misplaced it,” you mutter under your breath.

“Yeah, nearly.” Looks like he heard you this time. Asshole. He places a box of onions on your station, rattling the table slightly. “Do I have to tell you how to sort out the bad ones from the good ones?” You’re honestly not sure if he means that as a jab, but the way he says it makes your insides sizzle with irritation.

Don’t take it personally, you remind yourself. Don’t. Take. It. Personally. 

“How about you show me just in case? Just so we’re on the same page.” It’s a wonder how calm you keep your voice. To your surprise, Carmy doesn’t roll his eyes, doesn’t sigh, he just nods and proceeds. Every time you think you’ll predict him properly, he does the opposite. 

You follow the line of his callused finger pointing to brown splotches on some of the onions. Intently, studiously, you examine the dark spots (indicative of mold), the sprouts (initial stages of deterioration), and the mushy areas (a sign of decreasing freshness). He’s talking about details as he seems to do when it comes to food, even elaborating on the farming process, but you don’t quite pick up that part. You just pay attention to the parameters you need to follow.

No more fucking your boss, you remind yourself again, because you catch yourself aching at the sight of his fingers. Your eyes have a hunger of their own, flickering up and down his muscular arms. God damnit. Maybe there’s another reason you can’t quite pay attention today. 

“Are you listening?” Carmy’s pointed question snaps you out of it. Fuck. You hope he didn’t catch you staring at his fingers again.

“If I can save it and just chop off the bad parts, then I should,” you regurgitate on instinct. “Those are the best ones to use for the stock. Otherwise, I should just toss it.”

For a split second, all he does is fix you with his focused stare. You feel the intensity of it in your chest, your beating heart fluttering with its weight. No matter how many times you scold yourself for finding him attractive, your eyes can’t ignore what’s right in front of them. You find yourself counting his moles. 

“I caught you staring,” he murmurs, “for real this time.”

“I—uh—” Your eyebrows are so raised you’re sure they’re bound to shoot off your warmed face. He’s smiling like he knows something you don’t. You weren’t going to mention yesterday, and after your first interaction this morning, you were sure he wasn’t going to, either. Guess you were wrong again.

“I’ll be in the back if you need help. The others should be here soon.” He’s moving on without giving you a chance to recover. Your brain can’t process the shock. “Just call if you need anything."

Before you get a chance to scrounge up anything to say, you’re alone in the kitchen again. 

This time I'm really gonna do it, you fume internally. Because you have a healthy amount of anger management, you don’t let yourself continue that thought.

Sydney is the third person to show up after you and Carmy. You give her a nod and a thin smile as she walks in, and she waves back. Soon after she arrives, the others trickle in one by one. As you're learning to expect, the quiet never lasts for long. 

There are tasks circling you just like yesterday that you don't fully grasp yet. Everyone seems to be instinctively following their own schedule, their circadian rhythm matched to the chaotic ecosystem of the kitchen. It’s just as suffocating as it was yesterday. You remind yourself that as a new hire, you don't need to understand the madness yet. Nonetheless, an invisible pressure presses down on you. 

“Hey, d'you mind telling me where this produce goes?” A triple stack of filled containers sits heavy in your arms. With Sydney out of the kitchen, Marcus is your next safest option in terms of coworkers. His head flicks up from where he was focused on kneading dough. A streak of white flour is across his nose. 

“Oh, that one's bottom shelf, near the back.” He claps his dusty hands together, flour falling between them like snow. “Here, I'll just show you. You know where the walk-in is?”

With Marcus, it doesn't feel like there are any stupid questions. It's a gift you don't take for granted, especially around here. You let him lead you to the fridge again, even though you remember where it is. It doesn't hurt. 

“Thanks. I'm, uh, still having a hard time figuring out where stuff goes,” you say after you put the produce away. 

“It’s cool. It's only your second day, right?” You nod. “Just takes time. Don't sweat it. You ever work in a restaurant before?”

“Yeah, a couple of times.”

“Then you know what you're gettin’ into.” That makes you laugh. 

“Sorta.” You shrug. “To be honest with you, I just need money, and I like cooking enough, so…now I'm here.” You're not quite as honest with how desperate your situation was on the verge of coming, but it's fine. Not really the time and place for it anyway. 

“I gotcha. That's how it was for me too, actually.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah. Well, that's how I started at McDonald’s. That was a while ago now.”

“I see. It's better here, I hope.”

“Hard to say,” he says, but there's a little smile on his face. “For the most part, Michael was cool, but—”

“Michael!” You blurt out, startling the both of you. “Holy shit, I'm sorry. I've just been trying to remember the name of the previous owner for forever now and—wow, sorry. I didn't mean to shout.”

“It's fine.” Marcus has this amused expression, but it dissolves quickly. “You met him?”

“I did. I came here a couple of years ago when I first moved. Just once, but—anyway, what's his deal?”

“His deal?”

“Yeah, like, why'd he give the restaurant away? Carmy said he didn't want it anymore.”

“Oh.” You can't read the way Marcus’ face shifts. “That's what he said?”

“...Yeah?”

“I see. Okay. Uh…” He pauses, scratching the back of his neck. “Look, I know how this sounds, but just try not to bring Mike up for now. It's still kind of a sore subject.”

“Ah, my bad.” Your brain instantly supplies stories of estranged families, sibling spats, and stolen money. You suppose it's a sour sort of relationship—something you're intimately familiar with. “Can I ask what happened, or…?”

“I'll tell you later,” he replies evasively. “You know what else they got you training on today?”

“No idea,” you answer honestly. The nosy part of you wants to hear more about the Berzatto family, but the responsible part of you reminds you to cool your jets. “Carmy just told me I was on produce. Know where he's at? I peeked into his office, but he wasn't there.”

“Oh, he just left.” Your blank stare makes him elaborate. “He's off doing Carmy things.”

“Doing Carmy things?” Looks like the person in charge has abandoned you yet again.

“Business stuff, probably.” Marcus shrugs. “He does that sometimes. He probably won't be back for a while, so I can help you with training for now if you want.”

“That would be great.” There's a remark on the tip of your tongue about poor management, but you hold it. “Is Carmy a better boss, at least?”

“Compared to Michael?” You recognize sadness in Marcus’ pinched brows, even if it's only momentary. “I dunno. It hasn't been long, but this place has been running more smoothly since he started doing things.” Your shocked expression makes him laugh briefly. “I know, it used to be worse if you can believe it.”

“I'm not sure that I can,” you admit. 

. . . . .

The next several days at work continue to test your patience. While Carmy keeps you on prep, keeping your tasks simple, he continues to find ways to keep you on edge. You stiffen up every time he enters the kitchen, waiting for him to point out yet another mistake. 

Chef, this cut's too uneven. Chef, you're taking too much time on this. Chef, you should’ve cut this part off. Chef, you’re creating too much waste. 

Yes, Chef, you always reply, even as his comments become more and more grating. A childish part of you wants to do a worse job out of spite, but another part of you is hungry for his approval far more than you would ever admit. You wonder if he's this tough on everyone. 

The incident in the walk-in does not get mentioned again. A childish voice in you wonders if Carmy has forgotten about it. Of course he hasn’t, but every time he critiques you, you wonder about the Carmy who kissed you. You wonder what that Carmy's thinking, because you have no clue. 

Has he been thinking of you, too?

This is how things should be, you remind yourself after you touch yourself for the fourth night in a row to the thought of him. Your fingers are wet, and your wrist is embarrassingly sore. I can't have sex with my boss again. I just can't. 

Would it be different if he also touched himself to thoughts of you?

You desperately suck your own cum off your fingers, and you wish it were his fingers instead. It doesn't taste the same. 

The bright lights are irritatingly bright when you come in this morning. It looks like you're the first person here again, other than Carmy. You hear his irritated voice as soon as you enter, which is clearly a good sign. 

“I appreciate you thinking of me, I do. I do. It's just—” He sighs. Looks like he's having another phone call. “I can't come back. Not right now.” Silence. “No, uh, won't happen for a while, I think. The place's fucked.” A shaky breath. “What? What did you say?

“The head chef asked about me?” Carmy's voice has gone tight. “I see. Of course he said that. No, it's fine.” Pause. “...I know what they've been saying. I figured they'd look down on me.” His laugh is hollow and painful. “Look, I got shit to do. Thanks for asking me, but it's a no. I can't.” Another pause, drawn out and tense. “Sure. Bye.”

After he hangs up, you hear him muttering to himself. You can't pick out any of the words other than the curses, but it sounds bad. As you put your things away, you silently pray to the abstract idea of a god to give you both strength of patience. Seems like you'll need it today. 

“Morning,” you tentatively greet him when he sees you. He's not surprised by your presence today, it seems. He nods back. 

“Morning.” His eyebags are dark with a lack of sleep. Upon closer inspection, his whole everything screams sleep deprivation, perhaps a bit more so than usual. His messy hair seems particularly unkempt today. “You're doing prep again today.”

“I figured.” 

“You need to get better about cleaning your station.” His words are full to the brim with irritation. “I keep having to clean it after you.”

“I thought I was—” You stop. Calm down, you think, but it's getting harder and harder to repeat. “Sorry. I didn't realize.”

“I told you the other day that it was dirty. Were you even paying attention?”

“Of course I was!” Annoyance bubbles over inside of you, potent and unbridled. Carmy barely reacts to your raised voice. Somehow, that pisses you off more.  The cap on your contained anger has popped off, and there's no fitting it back on. “Are you always like this towards your employees?”

“Like what?”

“Like an asshole?” You're too irritated to hold yourself back. 

“Depends. Are you always like this with your boss?” He retorts immediately. 

“I don't usually have sex with my boss, so no, I suppose not,” you respond stupidly, and that makes him go dead silent. He narrows his eyes, fixes you with his gaze. Like you're a new problem that needs solving or something like that.

God damnit, you think to yourself. Why'd you have to say that?

“You've been thinking about it.” The air feels thicker, suddenly.

“I never said that.”

“Then why did you mention it?” Shit. “You said you were going to do better.”

“And I have been. I've been trying to do everything you've been telling me to do.” You don't know why you take a step towards him. “You said you were gonna be nicer.”

“And I have been,” he echoes, and his sincerity makes you roll your eyes. 

“Bullshit! You've been nit-picking me all week!”

“We have standards here, and you need to learn how to follow them. That's all.”

“You're right! I'm learning,” you argue, throwing exasperated hands up in the air. “Cut me some fucking slack!”

“Then learn. Improve.” He slams a hand down on the aluminum surface next to you, enclosing you partially in. Being this close to him, you can really see how dark his dark circles are. You could easily move to the side if you wanted to, but something in you stays put. “There's no excuse for a dirty workspace in a kitchen. I thought you would know that already.”

“I'm so fucking sorry, chef,” you spit back with about as much venom as you can muster. Which, right now, is a lot. 

That shifts something inside him. You see it flash across his face—surprise, anger, and then…something else.

“Dirty work station and a dirty mouth,” he murmurs. His voice is lower, quieter, and it sounds just like how it did in the walk-in. You hate how that change instantly makes your heart pick up speed. “You think you get a pass to act like this because of what happened in the walk-in?”

“You motherfucker,” you hiss, meeting his glare with your own. “So now you're going to acknowledge it? And for the record, I get to act however the fuck I want. Especially with someone like you.”

“Someone like me.” He doesn't ask you to elaborate. He just laughs, breathy and condescending, and he's so close you can feel his breath fan across your face. “You think you're above all this, don't you?”

“What?” The question takes you so off guard that it almost dissipates the strange mix of anger and arousal simmering in your gut. 

“I know it doesn't feel good to have to take orders from someone you hate, but here's the thing. You have to.” He's not smiling, but you swear he's getting some sort of sick satisfaction from all this. Why else would he be saying any of this shit?

“I could leave right now if I wanted to,” you threaten him. “You won't be able to find anyone else that wants to work in this shithole of a place.”

“You're right. You could leave if you really wanted to.” His eyes narrow curiously at you. “Then why haven't you?”

You’re well within your right to leave already—it checks all the boxes. Chaotic work environment. Awful management. General workplace misconduct. Unprofessionalism between coworkers. You suppose you're partially to blame for that last one, but still. 

If it's bad, I'll just find another job, you told yourself. You're not sure why you're not listening to your own advice. The simple truth of the matter, though, is that other jobs won't have him. They won't have the man that's been keeping you up at night, the man that you want to simultaneously devour and destroy. They won't have Carmen Berzatto, and for some reason, that's all it's going to take.

You don't understand yourself. It scares you, but not enough. Not enough to leave.

“...I don't know why I haven't left yet,” you say quietly after a while. “I have no clue.”

“I see.” If he's dissatisfied with your answer, he doesn't show it. “Then for the time you're here, let's make one thing clear.”

“What is it now?” You sigh.

“I'm in charge here,” he whispers. His other hand is on the counter now. You're completely blocked in. “I'm the one who runs this place, so you're going to be good and listen to me when I speak.”

“You're not really giving me a lot of incentive, chef.” You lower your gaze to the counters next to you. “Maybe if you gave me something to work with.” You don't mean for it to come out as suggestive as it does, but with him surrounding you like this… 

“Incentive?” He brings a hand to your face, tucking his fingers under your chin to pull your gaze back to him. His touch is achingly gentle, but it forces it to look straight into his eyes. Your fidgety gaze catches glances of the dark blue speckles that border his pale iris. “Hey,” he whispers, “look at me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Your heart's pounding like sprinting feet thudding on concrete. You can't place what feelings are excitement or anxiety or both, but maybe no separation exists. Shutting your eyes was a weak attempt to temporarily block him out, but now all you can focus on is the sensation of his rough hand on your hot face. 

Hesitantly, you open your eyes to face him. Ice blue and dark circles. His intense stare is difficult to match, but you try. 

“What do you want from me?” You ask quietly. 

“I want you to clean your station. Think you can do that?”

“Don't patronize me. Of course I can. I just—happened to forget.”

“Hm.” He smiles briefly. It's just a bit mocking. “You don't have a good track record so far, so you'll have to prove it to me.”

“...And how would I do that?”

“Depends,” he replies vaguely. “Depends on what you want.”

“What I want? I thought you were supposed to be in charge.”

“When I touched you, you told me you wanted to touch me.” The realization clicks in your head. “Do you still want that?”

You hesitate. Memories of the walk-in flood in. You remember the silhouette of his tight jeans over his bulge, and you ache. You shouldn't say yes. You really shouldn't. A distant voice says, you don't want to do this. What have you been telling yourself? This is a bad idea.

Unfortunately, it's far past a matter of want anymore. It's a matter of need.

“Yes,” you whisper back. Your fate is sealed. “I do.”

That's how you find yourself in the cramped bathroom with him. It's dark with one of the lightbulbs having gone out, making it feel even smaller. An eerie green cast coats the room. 

“You're going to show me that you can listen. That you can clean up after your messes.” He's leaned up against the wall, broad hands unbuttoning his pants. Your eyes shamelessly zero in on the motion. “Think you can do that much?”

“Of course I can,” you reply, but it comes out a lot softer than intended. 

“Good.” You force your eyes away from the outline of his bulge in his boxers to look at his face. His darkened eyes are trained on you. “Get on your knees.”

Oh, you think. So this is how it's gonna go.

You wish you could say that you hesitate even a little bit, that there’s even a shred of contemplation left in you. However, there isn't any of that remaining. Obediently, you fall to your knees, resting them against the cold, hard bathroom floor. You're at eye level with his unbuttoned jeans. Slowly, you raise your eyes to look at him. 

His downturned face is framed by wild strands of hair. Looking down at you casts darker shadows across his face, but not enough to hide his expression. It's an odd mix of hunger and what you think to be admiration. Surely not, but that's immediately the thought that comes to mind. 

“Waiting for directions, chef,” you murmur. 

“Mm. Right,” he says, like he was lost in thought. “You look better like this.”

“Watch it,” you warn him. “I could still bite your dick off.” To that, he just briefly smiles, and then it's gone.

He's pulled his black pants down just enough to let his clothed bulge hang over the waistband. The sight of it goes straight to the simmer starting in your gut. You watch his veined hand disappear into his boxers. He's doing this far too slowly for your taste. 

Finally, he pulls out his cock, nearly completely stiffened, and you can't deny the way you begin to salivate. 

You were right. It's big, though not just in length. His cock is thick. You immediately know you won't be able to take the full length of him into your mouth, but what fits is going to be a stretch. You're already imagining how those bulging veins are going to feel against the flat of your tongue. 

“Use your mouth for something other than talking back to me. Make me come,” Carmy orders quietly. “Enough direction for you?”

“Shut the hell up,” you mutter, ignoring the feeling of the growing heat inside you, and you pull the reddened, shiny tip of his cock between your lips. 

His pre-come mixes with the saliva on your tongue. You savor the taste of his salty musk, suckling slowly, and you hear him exhale shakily above you. Looks like you've been given something of an opportunity to get him back for the walk-in. Not repayment—payback. The distinction is important. 

When you pull back, thin strings of spit connect the pink head to your glistening lips. One of your hands moves to hold the base of his cock as you close the gap again. You drag your tongue down the side of his length, licking the thick vein you were eyeing earlier. You feel him twitch. 

“Do that again,” he breathes. Without question, your tongue retraces its path, running back over the line of spit it created. That gets you a quiet, strangled moan, and it's music to your ears. 

“Is this part sensitive?” You ask as you stroke the vein with your thumb. You suck your way down the vein again, making small, wet seals of pleasure. 

“Somewhat.” He sounds good like this, breathless and flustered. A smile twitches on your lips. You lick across the inside of your hand, wetting it before lazily curling it around his cock. He slides effortlessly in your grasp. 

“You gonna come already?” You can't help but tease. He's surprisingly reactive, more so than you would've thought. It's not that you're complaining—it's not that at all. The sound of his low groans is making you drip. 

“Hah—no. You'll have to work harder than that.” You feel a hand pushing back your hair, and that makes you raise your head towards him. His touch is surprisingly gentle. You watch the movement of his lips when he speaks. “Open your mouth, and stick out your tongue.”

You can't quite figure out what it is about all of this that makes you submit. Just moments ago, you wanted to wring your hands around his throat. It was far too easy to abandon your anger and kneel in front of him. Maybe it's the incomprehensibly part of you that undeniably needs his validation. Maybe it's the soft, low tone of his voice, gentle yet commanding. Either way, it has you obeying with a thought in your mind. 

You do as he says. You part your lips and extend your tongue. As your eyes flutter upwards towards him, you're struck with the impression that you must look obscene. 

“Perfect,” he whispers, and just the one word sends something of a euphoric rush through you. “Doin’ so good for me.” 

You soak up the praise, basking in the warmth of it. Then, Carmy spits onto your tongue, and his saliva slides towards the back of your mouth. 

You can't hide your surprise. Your breath hitches, but you don't say anything. Fuck, that should've made you angry, but it just made your clit throb painfully hard. 

He drags his thumb down your tongue, slow and sensual. You have half the mind to suck on it until he glides the head of his cock on your tongue, leading it into the heat of your mouth. 

“Ah—” You lose the words you were going to say, along with the empty space in your mouth. The tip of his cock's nearing the back of your throat. You breathe shakily through your nose. You were right again—you can't take him fully in. It's enough of a stretch as it is. 

“Fuck, that's it…” Carmy sighs. “Just like that…”

His hand holding your hair turns into a tighter grip as you begin sucking up and down his cock. It's an awful mess, the size of him forcing spit to drip down your chin. It's not just that, though. He's thrusting his cock back into your mouth quicker and quicker. You wish he would slow down so you could lean back and suck on his dribbling tip, but his hand has you anchored. 

Time slows as he starts fucking your mouth. Your hands fall to your hands. Your knees are starting to hurt. You care surprisingly little about that fact, instead opting to care about rubbing your clit as quickly as possible. When you get your hands under your underwear, you find your whole pussy already smeared in wetness. You've seeped through the fabric. 

When he pulls his cock out of your mouth (or rather, when he tugs you off), you think he's going to give you a new order. Or that he's going to say something. You don't realize what's really happening until it's too late. 

You watch him bring a hand to his cock. He strokes it twice, keeping his hand tight in your hair, and with a low groan, he comes.

With his hand on you, you can't move away. Not that you try. When the first glob of cum streaks your cheek, you freeze. All you can do is pause as he comes on your face. Even your hand under your pants has frozen, your palm pressed up tight against your pulsing clit. 

With each rope of cum across your face, you feel yourself throb. Carmy is a sight to behold as he comes, long-lashed eyes falling shut with his parted, gasping mouth. He's jaggedly fisting his cock as he just keeps coming. You feel the cum starting to drip down the slopes of your skin, even your lips. 

By the time he's come down, he's left your face an absolute mess. Your jaw feels heavy, and his cum is hot against your swollen lips. You've come down as well, and it's left you with the irate realization that he just came all over your face without asking.

“You could've at least told me you were gonna come on my face,” you snap. Your cheeks are burning. Your argument feels weak with how worked up you feel over watching and feeling him come, but the irritation is still very real. 

“Clean your station, chef,” he responds, infuriatingly smug even as he catches your breath. “Practice makes perfect.”

“Are you kidding me?” Of course. That's what this all was. A fucked up lesson, a twisted sort of discipline. 

“I'm not.” He uncurls his fist from your hair. “Stand up—your knees must hurt.”

You pause for a second before you shakily get back up on your legs. One minute he's messily fucking your mouth, and the other, he's worrying over your sore knees. He continues to become more and more confusing. 

“You're gonna make me clean up your mess.” You catch your face in the small, shitty rectangular mirror hanging on the wall. God, are you a filthy sight, cum and spit all over your face. 

“I had to clean up yours for the past week, so yeah.” He's zipped himself back up. He's clean, not a drop of anything on him. Unlike the mess parading itself on your face. At least there's not any in your hair. 

“This is not the same. This is—” You frustratedly search for the right words. He's remaining as stoic as ever. “You didn't even kiss me,” you blurt out, and as soon as you say it, you regret it. 

Carmy stills. You can't tell what he's thinking with his unmoving expression. You're sure he's about to insult you again, but then he’s leaning in and sealing his lips against yours. 

You're stunned. A small noise escapes you as he kisses you deeply, thoroughly. His tongue drags up a trail of cum and spit up your chin and back into your mouth. Or back into his. You're unsure, with the way they're all blending together. 

“There,” Carmy murmurs against your lips. When he pulls back, you see his tongue running across his lips, collecting the pearlescent sheen that was on them. 

“Um—” You start and immediately stop. You’re speechless. 

“Now clean up.” You hear the sound of distant company. Your other coworkers must be arriving now. “I expect improvement now, chef. Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” you reply bitterly. “I suppose I met your expectations, then?”

“Sure. Closely enough, anyway.” Potent aggravation hits you like a cast iron pan. He drags his thumb in one last infuriating line across your cheek. He sucks it into his mouth and cleans it off. “Don't take too long. I have a lot planned for you today.”

Without waiting for a response, Carmy leaves. He leaves you alone in the shitty bathroom with a now flickering lightbulb, left to clean his cum on your face with water, hand soap, and thin paper towels. You don't know if you've ever been so angry before. 

The anger doesn't make the arousal go away. You rub your needy clit to orgasm, your back pressed up against the wall like Carmy's just a moment ago.

As you come with Carmy's cum slowly trailing on your face, you wonder if there is any coming back from this. If there's anything left to be done to stop whatever's happening. You can't come up with any solutions or suggestions. Only one thing is undeniably clear:

You hate Carmen Berzatto, and you're already thinking of ways to get his cock in your mouth again soon. 

~

taglist: @zorrasucia @carmenberzattosgf @thehouseofevangelista @alastorssimp @talas-starlight @jmamas92

[sundrop-writes]

I guess this is asking for your headcanons? But if you were to take everyone in the BAU (that you write for) and put them on a scale/list of most dominant to most submissive what order would you put everyone in?

I would consider this more of an MLT, but labels, labels whatever. Let's get to hoeing!!!

The Scale of Most Dominant to Most Submissive Criminal Minds Characters

Elle Greenaway - Hard Dom

Okay I feel like Elle and Emily easily compete for most dominant in this group, so I just put Elle's name at the top because I feel like she doesn't get enough attention in the fandom <3

But yeah - we all know that she serves cunt, takes shit from no one, and I cannot imagine for the life of me her taking orders from anyone - especially not in bed. She is on top at all times. She wears the strap in the relationship and she needs a partner who thrives with that.

Emily Prentiss - Hard Dom

Again, she is just - a boss bitch. She seeps dom energy from every pour, and I can't imagine her being submissive to anyone. She seeks out a partner who loves being bossed around, and she soaks up someone who follows her orders, right from the subtle first meeting - if she tells you to get her another drink or tells you where to sit down on a first date, then she will absolutely preen if you rush to follow her orders. She will bark for no one, but she will make you bark.

Derek Morgan - Soft Dom (very very rare Switch)

Derek as 'the playboy' feels like a natural dom of the group, and I definitely see that he would be dominant for most of the time during most sexual encounters - but I feel like that's not all there is to him.

First of all, he's not a hard dom. He's not someone who makes rules and plays hard BDSM - he is someone who is a very soft, loving dom - he will kiss all over your body and do body worship, and he loves teasing and whispering sweet dirty talk into your ear. He likes to be in control, but he loves every minute of the ride to be pure, honey-sweet pleasure - he wants your legs quivering, and he wants you to remember the feeling of his tongue on your skin if you lock eyes with him on a Monday morning.

It's very rare that he gets rough. And it wouldn't be because of his own rage, it would be because he thinks that you need it - because your body is asking for more, or your mind needs to be shut off with a good, rough fuck. And when it gives it to you, it leaves you aching in the best way possible.

But he also has another side that people very, very rarely see. (Like I have said about characters like Hank Hall and Dick Grayson) - these big burly guys with a lot of trauma can be submissive, but it's something they hold back for when they are with someone that they deeply, deeply trust. It's never for casual hookups or even casual friends with benefits sex. It's for a loving, long term relationship where you have talked out all the trauma with them, and you deeply understand all of their most fucked up emotional hang-ups.

It's then that he feels safe enough to turn his body over to you completely - to lay back and let you do whatever you want with him. And even then, it's rare. It's when he's had a very hard day at work, and he just wants to lay back and shut his mind off, and he trusts you to help him do it.

Jennifer Jareau - Switch (Loving, Soft Dom/rare needy Sub)

As I have said in this post - JJ is a switch. That's my truth. But also as I have said in that post, she is bossy as hell (affectionate) - so I feel like it takes a very special type of person to dom her. Someone 10x more bossy. She loves the feeling of being dominated and it gives her that euphoria, and she can trust someone to do it if she has been dating them for a short time - but they have to be very powerful, and very bossy to overcome her natural dominance and her natural bossy streak.

Otherwise, JJ defaults to being the dominant one in the relationship because she is so used to being dominant in every other area of life - she knows what she wants and she isn't gonna waste time trying to get it. But again, she isn't into hard rules and BSDM, she is just into worshipping you and maybe some teasing. I talk about it more in that other post.

Spencer Reid - Needy Sub (very very rare Soft Dom)

So I am a Sub!Spencer truther.

Mostly because I feel like Spencer would naturally unconsciously seek out a partner who is more dominant in all areas of life, not just in the bedroom, because Spencer needs the guidance and caring of a dom - like... can we talk about how he didn't have any proper parental figures growing up because his father abandoned him and he took care of his sick mother for most of his life so he's never truly been 'taken care of' even as a child, so he would fucking looove the chemical euphoria of being taken care of by a dom, not just sexually but during after care and with casual dominance in all aspects of life.

Also, Spencer is that thing 'you like dominant women, not because you're a sub but because you're autistic and you like clear, direct instructions' - I mean he is definitely a sub, but he also LOOOVES the direction, clear instructions and how it makes things easier for him as an autistic person.

But if Spencer somehow ended up with someone who is a not a dom and didn't take care of him 24/7, including during sex, then he would becoming the dominant partner during sex just out of pure need. (In my opinion). I think that he's very, very touch seeking. He is needy. So if his partner doesn't initiate sex, or doesn't clearly communicate that they want sex (again, he's autistic) - then Spencer will initiate touches and seek out sex and touching and become this more dominant force just to fuel his own intense, passionate need to touch you. Not just because he's sex hungry, but because he's generally touch-starved, and he has such an intense passion for you specially that he wants to be touching you all the time, and his desperation and need comes off as more dominant and controlling.

I don't think he would ever be the type of dom to make rules, or have a degradation kink toward you, or anything like that. He can't even deny you an orgasm because if you ask to cum, then needs to see you cum. He is a pleasure driven dom 100%.

(Anyway, that's all I have for now lmao.)

[monster-disaster]

[orc] Zorag Iron - 2/3

orc!Zorag Iron x human!Reader - 2/3 Good to know: smut

Summary: Your argument with Zorag takes a sudden turn.

The rain is still heavy and restless. It pours from the dark sky, drumming on the roof of the van. The wipers on the windshield move back and forth without pause. Their clicking is a constant noise in the background, mixing with the songs coming from the radio. None of you pay attention to it. You can barely see the road through the window, and you definitely can't see the name of the streets.

"They will still be open, right?" You ask, glancing at the clock. If they didn't decide to close sooner because of the weather, they should. You only hope you didn't come all this way for nothing. And the orc next to you thinks the same thing. "I hope so," Zorag grunts. "If not, I will find someone to take care of the orders."

"Turn to the left," you are the one who breaks the silence again. "Now, Zorag!" "That's the wrong way." "No, it's not. I have been there before." "Me too," he continues to argue with you, passing the left turn completely. "I know how to drive, Ruby." You roll your eyes. "Of course, you know." His frown deepens. You aren't even sure what he looks like without the wrinkle between his thick brows. "What do you mean by that?" He grunts. "Why can't you listen to me?" You ask him, pulling your arm tighter in front of your chest. "That was the right way." "Or maybe…" Sarcasm drips from each word he says. "Maybe there are several other ways to get to the address."

You know he is right. And you want to pull on his hair because of it.

Soon, you reach your destination, and fortunately, the gates open in front of you immediately. One of the workers shows you where to go, and Zorag parks down in front of a building that looks familiar that you have in the lumberyard. Nobody is outside, but you can hear the others working inside. "Stay here," Zorag grunts. "I will be quick." The words leave your mouth before you can stop them. "I bet." The line of his jaw clenches into a hard line but says nothing. The only reply you get is the hard thud of the door as he pushes it shut.

Zorag is at his wits' end with you. But he always feels like this when you're around. No matter what you do or say, there is a twitch in his stomach that makes him want to spank you and kiss you senseless at the same time. You are bossy and bratty. You always want to tell him what to do and how to do it. You always think you know better, and you are not afraid to tell him that. He has every reason to dislike you, and still. Here he is. Half hard, even after your comment about his quickness. He can't help it, though. The van is small compared to him. You were close to him the whole time, with your sweet scent mixed with the rain. Your shirt clung to your body, showing off the soft swell of your breasts and the gentle slope of your collarbone. Your hair is still a mess even after drying in the warmth of the car.

You sit and watch the men take the planks out of the back. Zorag helps them. The hood over his head hides half of his face, but you can still see the thick tusks between his lips. You can't hear what he says, but the deep rumble of his words reaches your ears and resonate in your core. He seems even bigger next to the humans. He towers over them with his broad shoulders and muscles that make his coat stretch around his arms. You can't help but stare at him the whole time.

When everything is done, the orc sits back in the car and starts the engine with a roar. The end of his dreadlocks is wet, dripping down onto his thighs. The dark jeans he wears soak them up.

"Well," you speak up. The air is heavy and tense between you two. "I'm glad it's done." Zorag just grunts. "Thanks for coming with me," you try again. He nods but says nothing.

The tension doesn't lessen, and you start to worry. Maybe you really pushed him too far? The thought almost feels comical. There is no way Zorag would get mad at you just because of a snarky comment. You two do it all the time. That's the base of your relationship. You are angry at him, he is angry at you, and that's it. Life goes on. At least, that's what you try to tell yourself the whole way back to the lumberyard in your hometown.

You don't try to speak with him anymore, and he doesn't say anything either. Your eyes are on the window, watching the trees passing by through the rain. The forest is dark, and it seems unforgivable. Lush greens surround the mountains in the background. Their tops disappear in the dark clouds. The sky flashes here and there, and thunder shakes through the air.

You can't wait to get home.

When the van stops in the protection of the storage, you can't help but sigh with relief. The day was longer than you anticipated. The sun is ready to disappear behind the trees, and the dark clouds are still thick and loud. Another flash. Another rumble.

For a second, you just stare at the orc when both of you get out of the car. You are leaning against the door while he puts the keys back in their place. He is still tense and quiet. You can see his taut muscles even through the layers of his clothes.

"Zorag?" You break the silence after biting your bottom lip almost to bleeding. He grunts in acknowledgment, and you roll your eyes. "Hey," you sound almost angry. "I'm sorry okay? My comment clearly hit a sore spot, and I apologize for it. I didn't mean it." Apologizing to Zorag is new. You feel awkward, and you just want to be done with it.

And you are clearly doing it wrong.

His body froze for a long second before turning back to you with a low growl. His dark eyes seem even more dangerous than the storm outside. The hoops around his tusks glint under the dim light of the storage.

"Hit a sore spot?" He spits. Oh, oh. "I mean…" you gasp. "I didn't mean it like that. I just… It was too much, and I know that now." Before you know it, he is in front of you. His tall form towers over you, caging you against the car as you press your back to the door some more. "Why are you so upset about it anyway?" You ask him, frowning. When your attempt to apologize takes you nowhere with the orc, you choose another route. You argue. You want to fight because you are familiar with it. You know what to expect from it, and in a strange way, it gives you comfort. So you are almost shocked when, instead of snapping at you, Zorag smirks. And damn, he is really handsome when he does that. The curve of his lips is crooked because of his tusks, but it still stirs something in you. "What?" You snap. "What are you doing?" Tension keeps your back straight against the van. "If you really want to know how long I last in bed, you only have to ask." You scoff. Heat creeps up on your face. Your lips open and close as you try to come up with something. "I don't- I mean- I-" "Don't lie to me, Ruby," he warns you. "Maybe my nose is not as good as the shifters', but I notice everything." His words fan over you as he leans closer to your ear. The ring in his nose feels cold on the warm skin of your neck. Your whole body shakes at his closeness. "What are you doing?" You gasp.

What is he doing, really? Zorag isn't even sure himself. The only thing he knows is that there is no way he will let you go this time. You and his own thoughts drove him crazy the whole way back to the lumberyard.

"Tell me you don't want it," he says. His voice is a low rumble. "Tell me you don't clench your pretty thighs every time we argue. Tell me you don't get excited when we fight." You really want to tell him all those things. They are on the tip of your tongue. Lies. Lies. Lies. "That's what I thought," he hums when you say nothing.

The kiss starts slowly, giving you a chance to say no. Just a brush of his lips across yours. Soft and warm. The loops on his tusks are cold. For a second, you are not even sure if he can kiss you fully because of his teeth, but then he presses his lips against yours. His tongue slips into your mouth, demanding everything you can give him. One of his arms wraps around your torso, pulling you to his body and away from the car. He is devouring you. Cradling your head in his large palm, his thumb caresses the soft spot under your ear. His chest is large and hard under your hands. You burn and ache in his arms. The feeling of his tusks pressing into your skin makes you gasp against his lips. Your mind wanders to how it would feel between your legs.

After a while, he breaks the kiss but doesn't step away from you. His breath is hot against your cheeks. Your lips are swollen, and the throbbing between your legs is in sync with the rapid beating of your heart.

"Well," you gulp. Your nails dig into his coats to keep him close. "You proved nothing." His laugh is booming. The pleasant sound runs through your body. "I really hoped you would say that," he grins with mischief in his dark eyes. His arm falls away from your body after another quick kiss as he lowers himself to his knees. Oh. "Here?" You gasp, looking around even though you know nobody else is here. The door of the storage is open, the rain still pours, and you can barely see the forest surrounding the yard. "Here," he replies. "I don't think this pussy could wait any longer either." Your back falls against the car again. His thick finger brushes over your center through your jeans. Your stomach twitches at the feeling. A breathy gasp leaves your lips when he tugs on your pants and panties until they are thrown down on the floor a few meters away from you. The cold air sends shivers through your body, and your toes curl with anticipation.

Your scent fills Zogar's nostrils to the point the blood in his veins flows and burns with desire. His mouth waters at the pretty sight of your pussy. His palms smooth over the flesh of your thighs, gripping the back of your knees to pull your legs apart until he can see your folds. Wet and aching. One of your hands is on the van behind you as you try to keep your balance while the other is already in his hair. Your grip on his thick locks is almost painful. It fuels his need for you. Zorag leans in, licking over your wetness once, twice, three times before he delves into your pussy. His tongue swirls through your folds, around your clit, and inside your entrance. Your juices coat his taste buds, his lips, and his chin. And all of a sudden, he has no idea how he could live without this anymore. Urging him on, you pull on his hair and grind your burning cunt against his face. You almost ride him, and he is more than happy to be used by you. He licks and teases, grazing his tusk over your clit. "Zorag!" You cry out his name. "Fuck!" His cock is hard as he listens to your moans and groans. His name leaves your lips like a prayer. One of his fingers finds your entrance while his lips close around your clit. Your frantic breathing changes into sobs at the sudden feeling. Pleasure burns your veins, and the coil in your stomach is tight and ready to snap. Zorag pumps in and out of you, curling his finger just the right way to find every spongy spot that makes you scream and beg for more. "Please," you moan. His cock twitches with every sweet word that leaves your lips. "Please, don't stop. Zorag!" He recognizes your orgasm even before you do. Your clit throbs on his tongue, and your walls flutter around his finger as you chase your release. He is the only one who keeps you from falling as your body jumps and shakes with pleasure.

"See?" He grunts, standing up. His arms slide around you to keep you on your legs. His mouth is full of your taste. His deep green skin glints with your wetness. "It's so much better when you stop being so bossy."

You want to hit him.

- Masterlist Ironridge Masterlist Patreon

[callofdudes]

Late little Valentine's thing for the boys, their love languages and how they show you affection 😊

This will only include 141. Was busy on my birthday and never got around to this. So before February ends. Can be platonic or romantic.

Heavy on physical affection. Any time he can squeeze in a hug, a high five or really anything, he will.

He's super into encouraging words and will call you something if he sees you passing by. "There's my favorite (lad/lass/lovely/soldier)"

His love language return and send is physical affection, so whenever you want to show him that you love him, physical affection will set him in the right mood.

For Valentine's Day he got you a box of chocolates you really like and a photo of himself, with comic Sans saying, "Don't let anyone steal your swag, this Valentine's."

To show you affection, he's only ever going to do what he knows you're comfortable with. If you're happy with a little peck, he'll go for it.

If you're smaller than him then he'll do that thing where he asks you to sniff his collar and then kisses your forehead. If you're bigger than him he will jump on you. Don't fight it. Hold him. Hold him!! Let him give you a nice good smooch. Don't be afraid- DON'T BE AFRAID! COME BACK!!! HE'S NOT FINISHED!!

Not a huge physical affections guy, just isn't his thing. However, how he does show affection is through acts of service.

Sometimes it may seem that Ghost is being bossy by not letting you do things or that he cleaned your room because he didn't think you could do it on your own. Truth is, he's showing you he loves you.

Ghost took time from his incredibly busy schedule to clean, or tidy, or do something that he knew was so minimal in the grand scheme he might not get praised, but he knows you'll like it.

That's why when he can't sleep at night he may clean. Sweep the common area and clean up the kitchen and wash dishes. Because he knows you guys will come in and need to use the space tomorrow and would appreciate it being clean.

That being said, please, please oh please praise him. I'm not saying he's starved but if you tell him he is doing a good job, or you're proud of him, or thankful for his help?? He might just cry. No, scratch that, he'll excuse himself to catch the waterworks.

You're speaking to his inner child when you praise him. Ghost doesn't do anything in return for praise, but when you offer it, oh please don't let go of him.

Simon knows some flower language, so naturally he goes out to get you some flowers. Whether you look like you'd typically be into flowers or not isn't the question. It's which ones he's getting you, and why.

He got you Azaleas as well as some lilies just to break up the pink. Azaleas being the equivalent of "Take care of yourself for me, temperance and fragile passion"

It's a subtle way, If you know, for him to tell you how he feels without having to say it. And with that he also gets you hotrods. No, not the car, if you have no idea what I'm talking about, here.

If you're smaller than him (which, in most cases you probably are, let's be for real) he'll lean over from behind you and simply rest his chin on the top of your head.

It's something of affection for him, watching the world with you quietly, relaxing with his head resting on yours. Simon's way of saying "I love you."

Gifts are his love language. Whenever he's out and about and he sees a trinket that reminds him of you he'll snatch it and bring it back.

He constantly does this and telling him he doesn't have to doesn't stop him.

For Valentine's Day he'll go all out. He'll buy you chocolate, some flowers to make your office window look a little prettier, and a card too.

To show him affection back, please praise him. Like Ghost, he had to fight a lot in the past for recognition or praise, so you saying "I really appreciate you, in glad you're here, you did a good job picking, you really know me" sends him spiraling.

He'll be at your heel the rest of the day, and you'll happily grant him praise and recognition without him having to claw and scratch for it.

Like John, he does kiss and touch to show affection to those he's close to. But if you are only comfortable with it. He's a mixed bag, and will kiss you all over every single day if he has permission.

If he doesn't, simple touches suffice. Bumping your shoulder on the way by or wrapping his arms around you from behind to smoosh his face into your neck or shoulder blades, depending on how tall you stand.

This man is no pussy, will straight up tell you he loves you and appreciates you. Will make you breakfast on the day and wake you up with a kiss, (or forehead kiss, or both)

He'll let you wear your comfy clothes and will make you stay in bed as you eat. If you couldn't have guessed, he serves through acts of service and gifts!

John Price is always right there, even after a long day to help out. Now, if you leave a trash bag for him on purpose, he'll be stubborn and won't take it out. But if it's on his own terms John will do just about anything for you. You call the shots.

If you want to stay in bed, then that's your call. He certainly isn't complaining. If you want to go out, then you'll go out!

He's a very traditional man, no matter who you are or your style, Price will give you the gentlemen's treatment. Flowers, a bag of chocolates (yes, a whole bag. Come on 141 get on his level)

He'll pretty much pamper you all day. Please pamper him back. He feels loved most when given physical affection and repaid with acts of service. If you clean the house so he doesn't have to then you're a dream.

But even if you just come up behind him and hug him, tell him you love him and appreciate him, that's enough to make his whole week.

You have to do it again though, because he swears that it just rubbed off and he forgot. Do it again. Don't be afraid. DO IT AGAIN.

[andromedastarrs]

Miguel O'Hara SFW Headcanons (x GN Reader) How The Relationship Develops!

Because there are almost none that I see and agree with, and too many are NSFW and uncharacteristic.

(no hate /gen, do whatever tf u want idc)

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Miguel O'Hara x GN Reader because I said so.

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When you meet:

You try talking to him: He gives you blunt and short responses.

When you first meet it's all cold, no instant spark for him anyways. Ofc you've seen him and you're like "Wow he's handsome!" But all he sees is another person, nothing special. It's not your fault, this man is just closed off for his own reasons.

You try to joke with him: If it's funny he'll smile... Maybe even exhale through his nose while doing so. If it's crude or not his type of humor, he won't even turn to look at you and instead will give you something to do to make you go away.

What's his type of humor? I like to think it's the "smartass" type of humor but not in an overbearing type of way. The type of humor that comes naturally-- I picture this: you respond with a little snark when he's bossy, or something, and if it's clever he'll sarcastically compliment that. It's often a hit or miss with him too. He'll start smiling more the more you guys know eachother.

If you get his number for whatever reason and you try texting him, he WILL leave you on read if you text him about stuff outside of missions/work. If you bring it up, he'll just tell you that it's not personal and that he doesn't like texting.

If you compliment him he will say thank you, he's cold but not mean. Something like "Thank you for helping me with this, I like coming to you for 'x' because you're really smart and explain stuff nicely." However if the compliment has some sort of ulterior motive (think catcalling) he'll definitely glare at you and either not respond or say "Okay." (Just don't flirt right away...he literally does NOT KNOW YOU.)

Keep your gaze respectful, I don't care if he's a man, you don't eyeball someone for fun if they show discomfort. And he would, if you were caught doing so and he didn't even know you personally. Eugh... Let's be civil!

With that in mind, if you try to pry into his personal backstory too early he will most likely not open up to you about it until wayyyyyyy later since he'll trust you less for being so nosey. Let HIM open up naturally.

Don't call him moody.

How do you become friends? It depends on him, he definitely chooses (and is picky with) who he wants to get close to, so, really you have no say and can't do anything to make him like you. Even if you're conventionally attractive it won't affect how he feels about you LMAOOOO. IMO he has a sort of switch in his head that goes "...Okay, I like this person, I should try being friends with them."

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When you guys are friends:

I'd like to think the friendship is made official when he vocalizes that he cares about your safety. Hmmmmmmmm, I'd imagine him being like "Hey, take care of yourself out there." Something sweet and short, and he'll make eye contact with you through it. And for once, his expression is calm and his eyebrows aren't furrowed.

Speaking of which, you will definitely see him smile more and you will occasionally catch his expression soften when you show up.

You two will start talking about how your days went. He never did this in the beginning when he didn't know you.

He'll tell you some non-personal stuff about him like his favorite coffee and lunch, his favorite color... Only if you ask though. He's not the type to just say that stuff on his own. (Might seem contradictory, let me explain-- If he doesn't know you, don't force it. If he wants to get to know you, feel free to start making moves. That way he feels comfortable, a sort of mutualistic pique in interest.)

Before, he'd rather be alone than be with you. Now that you're friends, he'd like to listen to you talk about yourself while he stays quiet and listens. Perhaps you ramble on about something you're passionate about and he's typing away. And when you pause for whatever reason, he'll say that he's still listening.

You have now unlocked the ability to have conversations with Miguel 🙌

They're short convos but they mean a lot to the both of you, even if they're about what you'll be having for lunch that day.

Speaking of food lol, if you bring him coffee he'll smile and give you a thank you. If you treat him to lunch he'll probably say yes. Probably. If he's overstimulated or overwhelmed from work he'll say "No, thank you." Also, no need to be shy and stuff, just ask him out genuinely.

Not a fan of self-deprecation; if you're friends he will try his best to cut it short and provide some comfort, "That's not true..." and will give you reasons as to why. However if it's overbearing (like you do it CONSTANTLY) he will try to pull away from you. He is constantly stressed about the multiverse, talking to a friend should be his time to relax a little.

Friendship bracelets... I think he'd think they're corny but he would wear one if it's not too funny looking. Like the ones made from threads of matching colors... De wouldn't wear the ones with the BFF beads.

If you're both working in the same space and it's too quiet, he'll probably start a little convo, hearing your voice is comforting. That being said though, sometimes he likes the quiet. In this scenario I'd say let him decide.

Give him self care tips in a nice way and he'll genuinely appreciate it. I think if you're well put together he'll even ask you, lol!

Text him and he'll respond, it'll be short but it'll be a response. He'll also reach out first sometimes to check in on you too. "Hey how's your day been?"

On that note, it's safe to say that Miguel is up to date with current memes, again he's not dumb. If you send him those funny cat videos/pics he will find it amusing, will probably not laugh irl but will smile because he finds it funny that you find it funny.

He will download Pinterest (you told him that's where you get your memes from) and will scroll on it during his free time, if he spots some meme he knows you'd like he'd send it to you, saying it reminded him of you.

Playful banter is welcomed, encouraged only when he is the one starting it. You can start the banter yourself, but just make sure he's in the mood for it.

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The spark ignites inside of Miguel:

He'll be the one initiating conversations a lot more often, and you'll notice it.

He'll surprise you with lunch! He'll know your fave foods from all the chats you guys had as friends, and has some sort of keen sense as to what you are craving that day specifically.

This one is a bit more funny, but if you tease him by being a little mean (you can now that he has that little spark ignited), he'll turn away from you, but keep himself in view enough for you to see his signature pout. He will look down at the ground and smile before coming up with a comeback, which always usually beats your initial jab.

He'll teach you some words in Spanish if you want him to, but be warned that he'll take his job as your Spanish teacher very seriously. He will randomly speak in Spanish to test you, and if you don't understand him he'll tease the absolute shit out of you. One sentence turns into three, turns into a whole conversation starter.

If you respected the backstory thing, by now he'll open up about it with you privately. The spark being ignited means that he sees something between the both of you he wants to pursue, and that means that he wants to be fully honest with you from now on.

That being said, if you decide to lie about something to him and he finds out during this stage, he'll throw the relationship back to just friends for a good time... I'd say the bond is broken forever but hey you never know right? I think it depends on the lie tbh.

If you're shorter, he'll pat your head once before you go away from him, maybe even mess with your hair a bit (if you're okay with that ofc, shout-out to my curly haired ppl, taking care of our hair is not for the weak and even if it was Miguel O'Hara messing it up I'd be pissed off). If you're taller, he'll swipe his hand up on your back or maybe even pat it. (Hopefully you can picture that sorry lol.)

He will appreciate hugs from you in this stage! Ofc you need to ask him first, don't wanna catch him in a bad mood, he'll feel suffocated if you hug him while he's angry.

On that note, if you're leaving and say "...What, no hug goodbye?" He'll definitely smirk and cross his arms... Will playfully pretend to ponder while looking at the ground, and will respond "...Fine, I guess you can have one." He will hug you tightly to tease you back.

Remarks about how he looks will now be appreciated, and I think he'd put more effort into how he looks for you. Keep it sweet though. 🙄🫰

If he's quiet because he's upset/angry, he'll avoid you. He just doesn't wanna explode around you.

Will take you out on an official date (yippee!) and depending on the type of person you are (whether or not you like restaurants as a first or a picnic) he'll do his best to dress accordingly (restaurant = suit, picnic = nice t-shirt and jeans).

Will ask what you think about his outfits. Be honest with him, honesty is the best policy.

Will ask for advice regarding work, he never did this as friends. He likes to think his way is the best way, but he's starting to care a lot about you and what you think too.

Will get you a gift occasionally, not randomly. I think during holidays and on your b-day. He never did this as friends. He even asks to hang out with you on these days. :3

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The relationship:

He will be the one to make things official, he'll do this by getting you a nice piece of jewelry and planning a date somewhere he knows you'd love. Definitely the type to say "Can I be your boyfriend?"

Every time he sees you he'll smile, unless he's angry. If he's angry his eyebrows will just relax (expression softens in general) but he'll still be frowning. You'll always be able to soften his heart, but it'll be like a meter, you know?

When you gotta go, if you're shorter he'll hug you and press his cheek against your head, will give you a forehead kiss depending on the mood, will always tell you to stay safe and that he loves you. If you're taller he'll hug you and press his forehead against your chest to feel your heartbeat lol, in this scenario I see you being the one to kiss his forehead and he lets you.

Texts you updates, and in general more often. Will call you, he never did this before now.

Will hang out with you more, I think he'd even take days off routinely to spend them with you. Like Saturdays and Sundays he leaves and lets someone take care of his work-- But he'll occasionally pop in to check in on them via text to make sure stuff at work is alright.

Every breakfast, lunch, and dinner is now between the both of you. A nice break from work.

Will let you touch him, for example running your hand up and down his arm, holding his hand, giving his face kisses/quick pecks. He appreciates all of your touches.

In general you will see him soften up more, he's less angry (still has his days, T-T), and is seen smiling more by the people around him too.

After some time (1/2 yrs) he will ask for you to move in with him.

✯¸.•´¨•✿ ✿•¨`•.¸✯✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✯¸.•´¨•✿ ✿•¨`•.¸✯

Thanks for reading, imma do another post that has random headcanons too and not relationship based ones :3

✯¸.•´¨•✿ ✿•¨`•.¸✯✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✯¸.•´¨•✿ ✿•¨`•.¸✯

[octuscle]

Support dude, it’s me again, Mike. I hit you up so much I feel like I should pay you. And hey if you need that, I’ve got you just tell me. I owe you a shit ton, dude. Since you last helped me, Jack and I tied the fucking knot (and had a hell of a honeymoon haha hadn’t gotten so many noise complaints since high school) and I even moved into his place. Real big and nice like, would make a suburban man cream his pants and even a socialite would do a double take. For as filthy as he can be with me, big boss knows how to fucking live.

But I wouldn’t be hitting you up if everything was all sunshine and rainbows, eh? (Though one of these days I might convince Boss to let you in on our thing for a night or two, just to say thank you if that’s a thing you wanted wink) One of the neighbors apparently doesn’t like it so much when I invite some of the guys at work over for our, let’s call em team bonding events. He bitches and moans about how loud and rowdy we get and how it’s ruining the value of the neighborhood. I almost kicked his ass the first time he came by all bossy and shit, but Boss told me he was President of their HOA or whatever the fuck and that I couldn’t. So I’ve been trying to ignore the prude but if he comes over and ruins another good night I might lose my cool and I don’t wanna let down Boss like that.

Any way you can make the neighborhood meet our lifestyle choices better, dude? I don’t wanna give up this lavish living so soon, it’s nice as hell. But I don’t want it to change me. I wanna change it! Ain’t no reason we can’t live it up without being able to get down if you catch my drift. Can you help me?

I have not invested so much time in my favorite customers, so that you now become adapted suburban bourgeois. So it's time for me to take care of your neighbor. He may be the president of the HOA, after all. But that doesn't give him the right to regulate your private lives. But I could add a little spice to his.

Actually, the boring buffer is not a visitor to the gym. Thank God. So at least you have peace from him there. But today he feels like working out his muscles. And of course, when he enters the locker room, you run right into his arms. And the slimy ass-kisser can do nothing but shake your hand in a friendly way, as if you were best friends. Oops, sorry that your towel slips down.

Normally you are hard as granite when you come back from training. At the sight of your neighbor, the 8 inches dangle limply between your legs. He still seems impressed. To warn your man, you send him a quick message about what to expect during his workout. And write him that you are already preparing everything for dinner at home. "Everything is fine, stallion! daddy wont b disturbed during his workout. Ill b home in 2 hrs"

Your neighbor is blocking the very stations where Jack wants to work out. He has memorized the gym rules and points out every pissy infraction to your husband. In the beginning. But the more Jack sweats, the more musk he exudes, the hornier your neighbor gets. And slowly he starts to change. Actually, sleeveless tops are not allowed in the gym. You both don't care. And your neighbor now too. With the white wifebeater he looks almost like Jack's gym buddy. And he's starting to smell like one, too. It's hard to believe that just a few minutes ago he was the overgroomed suit guy. His armpit hair is sprouting. He obviously hasn't been to the barbershop in a few months either. He stops regimenting your husband. The two of them start working out together as if they've been doing it forever. Steve (your neighbor) can't get enough of having Jack's sweaty workout shorts hanging in front of his face during the bench press. His bulge gets bigger and bigger. And the damp spots in his shorts aren't just from sweat. Jack asks if it's not time to go to the locker room. Steve replies that he was already afraid that Jack wouldn't even ask.

"is it k if i bring a pal 2 dinner" texts Jack. "he 1't want much mor then ur cum and mine." "then he shud bring big appetite" you reply. Shit, this time when Steve shakes your hand, nothing is limp between your legs. Enjoy the evening with the president of the HOA to the fullest!

Pics all found @thelockerroomblog

[familyvideostevie]

hi hi lovely first of all i would LOVE to read your fluffy joel fic with no smut, i love your writing a lot and it’s just perfect and so comforting. also, if it is okay i would like to request a joel fic where the reader is someone who gets cold really easily and he’s always being a bit bossy and grumpy with her because she doesn’t wear enough layers or always gives him their blankets, and just like very fluffy very cute vibes! i love youuuuu

omg. yay!!! congratulations you are my first joel request!! thank you very much, this was a lot of fun. it's very short and a bit sweet and i hope you like it! (hope you like the fluffy joel fic, too!) joel doesn't get why you won't wear your damn gloves. fluff, jackson au, 0.8k

---

It starts with gloves.

"You okay?" Joel asks. Well, grunts, more like. You're on patrol which is serious business so you're getting serious Joel.

"Uh, yeah," you say. "Why?"

His jaw shifts like he's grinding his teeth. "You look..."

You try not to smirk too much. "How do I look, Joel?"

The two of you have been doing...whatever it is you're doing for a few months now. Gentle flirting turned to drinks turned to dinner turned to nights in his bed or yours, whispers in your hair and lips on your skin, his steady, solid presence at your side around town.

It's nice. You're enjoying it. And, perhaps most of all, you're enjoying how Joel Miller continues to surprise you. The depth of his worry and care, the jokes he tells out of nowhere, how his nostrils flare when he's trying to hide his smile.

You knew him to be a man capable of violence. You're all capable of violence. You've seen it, done it. That's life. It hardens you.

And while Joel is grumpy a lot of the time for good reason he also knows how to laugh loudly and is learning a song you love and haven't heard in twenty years so he can play it for you on his guitar.

So his unamused glare delights you more than anything.

"You look cold," he huffs.

"Well, it is fall in Wyoming, Joel," you say. "It's cold outside and we're outside." You sweep your arm in a wide arc at the beauty of the valley. Your horse snorts as if agreeing with you. He's right, though. You're cold but it's bearable. You get cold pretty easily, in fact, but Joel has no reason to know that. The weather just started to change.

"Well," he says, mocking you. "Why don't you have gloves or a hat or somethin'?"

He knows why. Because you left for patrol from his house without stopping at yours. You know he's going to find a way to make this his fault, for not checking that you had everything you needed, for not offering you the clothes on his back. You also know he's going to file this away and make it his new mission.

"Because I'm fine, that's why." Your tone leaves no room for argument but Joel tries anyway.

"Your hands are red."

"Joel," you snap. "I'm fine. Leave it."

Sometimes it's overwhelming to be cared about by a man with his intensity. He doesn't do things by halves. You're still learning what it means for him to be all in on you.

He says nothing. You glance at him and see he's holding out a pair of leather gloves you recognize.

"I'm not taking your gloves --"

"Just fuckin' take 'em, alright? If your hands are cold then you can't shoot and I don't want to have to leave you out here because someone got the jump on us. Ellie would kill me."

Typical Joel. Covering up his concern with gruffness. But you know better than to take it personally by now -- you see him with Ellie, see him with people in town. You know what he's like in your bed when he wakes up, the way he strokes your jaw and presses his lips to your temple. You know what's underneath this exterior.

So even if it's a little overwhelming you take the gloves and work them onto your hands. But you don't say thank you because you can't let him win everything.

But after that patrol Joel does make it his mission to ensure you're not cold. It's a little overbearing but you know he likes to be useful so what do you do? You lean into it. You do get cold easily, after all. You let him drape his flannels around you when you don't wear enough layers on the way to his house. You let him tug the hat on your head over your ears. You let him tuck a blanket under your feet on the couch. You let him take care of you.

"Feels like you're doin' this on purpose," he grumbles one night as you walk back from The Tipsy Bison. There's a bite to tonight's wind and he's got his arm around your shoulders so you're pressed into his side. You aren't wearing a coat warm enough for the chill.

"Doing what?"

"Being a pain in my ass. Givin' me grey hairs with your fuckin' determination to get frost bite."

"Well if you hate it so much --" You pretend to pull away from him but his doesn't let you go far.

"Didn't say that. Just think you should dress properly for once."

You laugh and pull him to a stop, turning so you're pressed against his chest.. "Why do I need more layers when I have you?"

"I see how it is," he drawls. "Usin' me for my warmth, are you?"

Joel isn't big on public displays of affection. He's a private man and likes to keep his cards close to his chest. But it's nighttime and there's hardly anyone out, so when you lean close he allows it, brushing your noses together.

"Course I am," you whisper.

He huffs. His palms press into your back. "Figures."

The kiss he gives you warms you all the way down to your toes.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

[orchideous-nox]

wolfstar, rosekiller, jegulus kink thoughts??

I need to refresh my Wolfstar memory so this is a perfect excuse to yap about them a bit to get my brain working!! This turned out to be a mix of kinks and general sex takes so enjoy!

Wolfstar

I want to say they are a bit vanilla. Some people go down the puppy play route but I just can't envision that for Remus especially, that being said I did write a fic called bark like you want it, baby to test how I felt about it and it sent me into a Wolfstar writing slump. I think Sirius definitely has a praise kink, maybe it starts off that he thinks he wants degradation but then Remus tells him how good he feels or like after a particularly long session of fucking he tells Sirius that he did good and Sirius is like ✨oh✨ and it becomes a thing.

Remus likes pulling Sirius's hair and giving him hickeys in places only they can see until he leaves one on his neck, and it sets something off inside him because everyone can see it and with the way Sirius drapes himself over Remus, there's no questioning who gave it to him.

As someone who cannot ever get behind a daddy kink, it's something I'd never write into a fic but in my cowboy wolfstar fic where there's an age gap, there's a "sir" thing going on that after rereading I was lowkey loving for them. Sirius loves giving up the power to Remus but sometimes Remus loves being taken care of so aftercare is really important to them.

Jegulus

So aside from the obvious James having an oral fixation and getting off untouched sometimes from eating Reg out, maybe a touch of degradation, I think there's definitely some soft dom energy coming from Regulus. He's bossy, he knows what he likes and he is okay with using James to get off. And James loves that, he is there to be a dildo with a body attached, he will do whatever Regulus needs him to do. He's definitely said to James "you have the honour of fucking me, do it properly" if he's not listening when Regulus wants it harder or faster or rougher.

There's definitely some biting, Regulus is so pale and James loves seeing the marks on his skin when he gives him hickeys because they show up so nice, and Regulus shows them off to him wherever possible. James gave him hickeys on his thighs? Reg is wearing no pants around their house, letting James see them. I guess it's maybe a possessive thing?

Regulus can definitely be a brat when James is more dominant, he'll resist instructions for as long as possible to cling onto control even if he knows that he'll enjoy whatever James wants to do to him. I think Regulus doesn't have a gag reflex, or like he does but barely, and he loves showing that off to James and lets him just fuck his throat. He also loves being tossed about when he's not in control, he's like a bop it, bend it pull it twist it bop it.

Rosekiller

Yes. My friend Alex ( @futurequibblerjournalist ) mentioned in an ask that they're like that scene from Brooklyn Nine-Nine where Pimento is like "Okay, here are the ground rules: you can punch me, kick me, pull my hair. I am A-okay being stabbed. Biting and scratching are on the table." Like that's just Rosekiller's version of vanilla. No blood, no orgasm.

As someone who writes Rosekiller smut extensively, I have definitely returned to biting, spitting, hair pulling, choking and a mix of praise/degradation. Barty will pretty much let Evan do anything, like he literally let Evan stab him in my demon barty fic multiple times and played around with necro which was an interesting one but for Rosekiller I will try writing anything. To them, death is a challenge and they are tiptoeing around that line of how far they can push it and they find that so hot.

There's so much I can say about Rosekiller and kinks, about how Barty will only bottom for Evan because he trusts him to give up control and for him to not use that against him, he likes Evan using him in any way possible, including somnophilia. Evan and his morbid interests loves getting clinical with sex and experimenting with how far he can push Barty's body before it's too much. They can also very much get lost in each other, they are the definition of two halves of a whole and trust each other entirely so will try anything and everything and often find they enjoy it.

I think if you look at my ao3 you'll get a pretty good idea how I picture Rosekiller and their kinks but I'll never stop adding to the list of fucked up scenarios they take advantage of.

[luveline]

hiiii, I miss Eddie and Roan so much. Could you write something about them pleaseee? ❤️❤️❤️

eddie and roan try not to fall asleep while (almost stepmom) reader bakes a tray of brownies, 1.5k

Eddie can't sit on the couch, he lays down. He has ever since he can remember, and while he tried to be polite when he first moved in (unlike Roan, who made herself at home delightfully quickly), you're way past that now. 

"You look uncomfortable," you fret, tilting your head to the side as you look down on him in concern. "You want a pillow?" 

"I want you to lay down with me immediately," he says, making grabby hands at your stomach. 

You refuse him with a stunning, angelic, beatific smile, the kind that makes him think fuck I should marry her, before he remembers he's already going to. If there's one thing about Eddie Munson, it's that he wholeheartedly believes that you're the prettiest woman he's ever met. Maybe you started that way, maybe he loves you so much you've metamorphosed into an intoxicating creature of good looks, but whatever it is, he's obsessed with it. 

"Lie down with me," he demands. 

"I'm gonna make little brownies," you say, shaking your head, "but I know someone for the job." 

He's half expecting you to scoop Mr. Porterson out of his tank and hand him to Eddie in a cup, but you head upstairs to Roan's bedroom. He can hear your voice through the floor, and his daughter's answering gasp. She all but runs down the stairs, demarcated by you and Eddie shouting the same thing, "Don't run down the stairs, Ro!" 

She's huffing and puffing by the time she gets to the living room, rounding the couch to stand in front of Eddie. "Hello," she huffs. "You need a hug?" 

Eddie opens his arm and drags her in. He should say something cheesy and loving, like, don't I always? He's not a super serious guy, but it's been on his mind a little more often as the wedding approaches and Roan gets taller how lucky he is to have you both, and how things could be totally different. He never expected to be a dad and he honestly didn't want to be before he saw her little face.

Eddie remembers picking her up when she was still smaller than his arm, two inexperienced hands under her armpits raising her up because he realised he could. 

Her legs scrunched up toward her chest and he thought, oh, my god. And now she clambers on his chest and does her pill bug curl with her knees, reminding him so much of her baby scrunch and the way her head smelled. He drapes a gentle arm behind her and tries to pour every ounce of love he possesses into his touch as he pats her shoulder, a steady thump, thump, thump. 

"You smell nice," Roan accuses. 

"That's weird. Maybe check again." 

She sniffs him. "You smell yummy, like Y/N's shampoo." 

He may have ran out of body wash, and he may have used a dollop of your shampoo. He doesn't think it'll matter in the grand scheme of things and all you're sharing, but he puts his finger to his lips. "Shh," he whispers, "don't tell." 

"You said I'm not supposed to have secrets," Roan says. 

"You're not." Eddie draws a line down her back just to hear her giggle. "Except this one." 

"That's what you said about the last one." 

"This one and that one, then." Not like she managed to keep that one secret, either. What was he thinking, telling his five year old he wanted to propose? She lost her mind aloud. 

Then again, she spilled the beans and you immediately told Eddie he had to move in with you (he can't remember it perfectly now, but he's pretty sure you said, 'I think you better move in', which was just bossy enough to have him falling in love twice over). 

"I don't like secrets," Roan says.

Her voice strengthens as she gets older, and her pronunciation of things grows smoother. Occasionally she speaks and she sounds much older than she is. Currently, she talks with a funny cadence, emphasis on things that don't need it and, and an underlying sense of awe like she can't believe what she's saying. 

"Fine," Eddie says, pulling her closer still, "we won't keep this one secret. But if she shouts at me I'm going to have to sleep in your room tonight." 

"I'll sleep with Y/N." 

"No, because I'll need you to dry my tears." 

Roan nods into his chest, the faux silk of her sleeve shushing against his shirt as she brings a hand up to his hair. "Okie dokie," she says, twisting one of his curls around her fingers. "But don't cry." 

"I'll try not to, sweetheart." 

She smiles and relaxes fully into his arms. 

"Are you tired?" he asks. 

"Don't think so." 

"You've already got your jammies on. You don't want a bath tonight?" He's feeling affectionate for his life, adding, "Mommy has new bubble bath, it smells like chamomile. I'm sure she'd love to share with you." 

"Yeah?" 

"Mm-hmm." His eyes are getting heavy. Maybe he's tired. The thought of a bubble bath almost puts him to sleep. 

"Don't fall asleep," Roan whispers. 

"I'm not, Ro. Just resting my eyes. You don't have to stay and cuddle if you're busy." 

"I like you," she says. 

"I like you too." 

— 

Little brownies are the best thing ever. You make a very wet brownie batter and pour it thin in a big baking sheet. You barely cook them, and then when they're cooled and cut you freeze them, and when they defrost (at a time of your choosing) they're perfect for eating or putting into Roan's school lunchbox. You set the last tupperware of them into the freezer and wipe your cold hands on a dish towel, happy. 

It's a bit strange, but before you met your Munsons, you had no idea how peaceful it could feel to have done something for someone else. You weren't an overly selfish creature but there's this unnameable feeling that comes with doing this kind of 'chore'. Taking care of the people you love… 

Well, it feels good. Not as good as this is about to feel, you guess, turning off the kitchen light and locking the front door as you go. Eddie and Roan lay on the couch with the TV set to a loud volume. You'd assumed they'd both be awake, but it seems they've fallen asleep despite the odds. You're gonna languish in it with them just as soon as you can tetris your way into the pile.

Roan has crawled up the length of her dad's chest to press her cheek to his, and Eddie's wrapped his arms around her tightly, tucking her in with nowhere to turn. 

You can't fit into their cuddle pile without disturbing the peace, but you can't be expected to abstain, surely. 

You sink down onto the floor by Eddie's head, bringing your hand to his sleeping face. Careful, you stroke a twisted baby hair against his forehead, the dark kink of it like a thread through pale skin. 

Roan stirs, or wasn't as asleep as you thought. She yawns wide, lips smacking as she asks, "What are you doing?" 

You grin at her loud whisper. "Just looking. You okay?" 

"He's squeezing me." 

"Too much?" 

"No, I like it. I feel like a sardine." 

"Yeah?" You rest your upper body on the couch, her pyjama top satiny under your hand. "You like it? You're not claustrophobic?" 

She gives you a daunted look.

"It means squished, pretty much," you say.. 

"I like it," she reaffirms. Roan pulls her arm out of Eddie's grasp to touch yours. "Dad says I can have some bubble bath." 

"Of course you can, princess. You know you can have anything of mine." Except the top shelf stuff, but she can't reach that high. "I left you some brownies for ice cream." 

"You did?" 

"Yeah, I did." You meet her eyes, formidable baby browns that you never stood a chance against. Her cheek is warm as you lean in for a quick peck. "You're beautiful. I love you." 

Roan gasps happily. "You're beautiful-er!" 

"Thanks," Eddie mumbles, smirking as he starts to wake from his nap. 

"Time d'you call this, Eds?" you ask fondly. 

He turns his face one way and the other, agonised. "Oh, but I was so cozy! My girl is so soft and she's pretty much my blanket, and she was being so nice to me!" He sighs, a picture of distress, his voice croaky with the edge of sleep. "Can you ever forgive me?" 

"Sure!" Roan says, laughing. 

"Just this once." 

He squints at you. "This is pretty much your fault anyways." 

"You'll forgive me. Please?" He leans up for a kiss. "S'what I thought," you say into his lips.

You nudge him back and squeeze onto the couch. He has to go on his side for you to for and Roan ends up half on top of you, a knee jabbed into your stomach. Still, it's fine for now. Your quiet desire to be cuddled with them is abated, a strong arm behind your back and a much smaller hand sneaking inside your shirt sleeve to warm the attached, similarly small fingers. 

[heejayy]

Young and Beautiful

Nanami x black reader

Warning: none

Word count: 1.2k

You let out an exhausted sigh as you slipped your hair out of its tight bun; you'd finally finished sifting through and responding to all of your emails, as well as reviewing some documents your boss had sent you. Your eyes are dry and strained, and your fingers are cramping after hours of typing. You checked the time and it was 10:53 p.m., which wasn't too bad given that you'd previously left work much later. Ready to depart, you stood up, stretched, and began gathering your belongings before heading home. You collected your binders, slid your home computer into its case, and grabbed your heels, which you had kicked off hours before.

As you closed your office and approached the elevator, your watch chimed with a message.

Bossy pants:

Mrs. Y/l/n, please meet me at 6:30 to look over the paperwork I handed over to you. There was an error.

"Fuck me!" you muttered, feeling rage rise in your chest. This man never gives you a break; he always relies on you, and he never bothers anyone else, which is driving you mad.

"Ugh he's always bothering me he acts like he doesn't have two other assistants to go over his project with but no it has to be m-"

"Y/l/n is that you?" You froze. Every muscle in your body stiffened up; you didn't expect him to be here so late; he usually leaves around 7 p.m., so what on God's green earth is he doing here at 11 p.m?

"M-mr. Kento?" Your chest tightened as you feared he had heard your angry rant.

"Come here," your body responded to his instruction before you could even think about it. You found yourself at the doorway of his office, playing with your acrylic nails, too frightened to look him in the eye, so you looked elsewhere.

His tie was unfastened, and his hair was tossed all over the place, in direct contrast to how it had been precisely slicked back and combed that morning.

“Mr. Kento "I didn't realize you were here this late... why is that?" You asked cautiously, hoping he hadn't heard your dramatic outburst earlier.

"Had to finish some paper work, I'm assuming you did as well?" You nodded, giving him a forced smile. An uneasy silence settled over his office.

"Tell me y/n do you think I work you too much?" He clearly heard your small outburst.

"I- listen I didn't mean-"

"I made you the senior executive assistant for a reason. You're a hard worker, honest, and trustworthy. You and Suguru are the only two people I trust to oversee this floor and manage my schedule; I wouldn't assign you anything you couldn't handle."

“Mr. Kento I understand you mean well, but this is just too much at times, and I'm not saying I don't want this position; I do, and I thank you for it, but I'd like some extra help if it not too much trouble." He took a sharp breath in and pushed his chair from behind his desk, then opened a drawer and pulled out a wine bottle and two glass cups.

"Join me?" You were taken aback by your boss's casual approach toward you; he was always known to keep matters strictly business-related.

"Um sir-"

"When's the last time you had a chance to wind down or hang out with your friends?" You blinked quickly, unsure of how to answer this question.

"My friend sort of abandoned me a long time ago due to me flaking on them for work." He gave you a kind of frown. "I know exactly how that feels."

Your boss strolled over to his couch and patted the empty space next to him, "Join me?"

You tilted your head in confusion, but decided that one drink wouldn't hurt.

2:45 AM

You ended up having more than one glass, and now your cheeks are heated, and you're leaning slightly into your boss, giggling at a story he just told you.

"You don't even seem like the type to get wasted I can't believe you did that!" He chuckled, savoring the last of his wine.

"Yeah well I was young and foolish and I also had bad influences for friends."

As you rested your head on his shoulder, a comfortable silence descended over the room; perhaps it was the wine, but your mood was subdued. Your mind wandered away, thinking about how you'd become drawn into the toxic work culture and how it was draining your youth.

"Nanami i'm tired."

"Tired of what love?"

"I'm tired of feeling as if I have to work until I drop, as if even if I achieve every goal, something is missing, as if I haven't done enough because there's always someone who will outdo me." Sometimes I just want to quit and move to a remote island to be happy."

"Keep this a secret yeah, but sometimes I feel the same way." Your head snapped up.

"Really? No way!” You spoke sarcastically, he chuckled “do I seem that miserable at work?”

“No you just- you don’t seem like this is something you enjoy doing.”

“Don’t get me wrong I do appreciate having this job but if I had a chance to run I’d take it.”

“Run where?” You asked curiously. He glanced down at you with a small smile “let’s make a deal, when I make a break for it I’ll take you” you giggle feeling flustered.

“Ooo where we going?” You asked with a hint of flirting.

“Malaysia.”

Present Time

"Baby you ready?" You snapped out of your daze when your husband called for you. You placed the photo frame to the nightstand; it showed you and your husband celebrating your first anniversary on the beach in Malaysia. You were both young, happy, and much in love. To think you ended up marrying your boss, the same guy you used to gripe about on a daily basis. Now, you can't picture living without him.

"I'm almost done my love."

You're now in your 50s and still go to the same beach on your anniversary, but sometimes you wonder if you should've taken advantage of your youth and explored more instead of being locked up in an office all day.

"What's on that pretty mind of yours?" He inquired, and she wrapped his arms around your figure, rocking you back and forth.

"Nothing much, just reminiscing back to when we were younger. I feel like I wasted my youth chasing something I didn't want only to impress others, and now that I'm older, I feel like I missed out on the opportunity to be young and happy.

I wish I could rewind time to tell myself to enjoy life before it’s too late.”

"What are you saying before it's too late? We're only in our early fifties. We still have so much more to explore, and now that we're retired, we have all the time in the world, so put all this 'I'm old' rubbish out of your head and let's get ready to leave," you smiled at his attempt to cheer you up.

"Doesn't matter what age we are I will always love you."

"Nanami?"

"Yes beautiful?"

"I love you more." You cupped his face and kissed him gently, but that wasn't enough for him. Nanami gripped you by the waist and pulled you closer to him, deepening the kiss. One thing this man knew how to well was make you weak in the knees.

"That's impossible love."

©heejayy 2024 — any reposts or translations of my works are strictly prohibited unless granted permission.

[baby-dr1ver]

love i NEED day 29 of kinktober

charles....my little baby boy

it was easy really, getting charles to sit in your kitchen chair, handcuffed.

he was easy to manouver when he was frustrated once again, because of ferrari. screwing him over so carlso could win, sacrificing him and his potential podium.

you wrangled him into the chair as soon as he stepped foot in the house. you kissed gently all over his face, sprinkling in some praise. 'so good to me' 'my race winner' 'can't wait to see you covered in champagne again' (if you know, you know). once you deemed him calm enough, your plan was put in motion.

you started off by kissing down his neck, nipping at the sensitive skin and massaging his shoulders. "so tense amor, just need to relax huh?" you murmered and he hummed in response. you pecked at his lips, sucking on his lower lip and pulling it away from him. your hands made their way down his arm, grasping the skin of his wrist, groping the palm of his hands to sooth the aches of gripping a steering wheel. you eventually slid down the chair, grabbing the hancuffs from the table (that he somehow missed when he got home, along with the other..things among the table) and secured them quickly.

charles gasped and tried to pull his hands free. "y/n...what is this?" you smiled from where you were on your knees, right between his thighs. "you need to let go, you're uptight and tense." you rucked up his shirt and leaned foward. you place small kisses across his stomach, feeling it jump with anticipation. charles leaned his head back, letting it hang over the chair. "bebe, please, get on with it."

you pulled back and placed a hand over his growing bulge. "so bossy...i thought i was in charge cha" you slolwy unbottoned his pants and nosed along his cock. you loved when charles let you have your way with him. sitting on your knees, worshipping his dick for hours. mouthing at the tip, caressing his balls, letting the spit and precum run down your chin.

you were getting ahead of yourself, you had a different plan for tonight. you got his pants and underwear off of him, letting his bare tip rest against his shirt. full mast already and you barely even touched him. charles chest moved up and down, neck straining with trying to free himself from the cuffs. 'easy cha, gonna hurt yourself." you gently stroked his cock, trying to put him at ease. "can't..can't I, i need to.." you shushed him again and kissed around his tip.

"we'll use the stoplight system okay? the second it becomes to much, tell me." he looked at you confused. he was used to your teasing and would never want out of it so, what was really going on? he soon found out when he felt rubber being run along the inside of his thigh, trying to sus it out as you mouthed on his balls to distract him.

you pushed the button on the toy, and the vibrating sounds resonated around the room. charles smirked, "gonna get yourself off while you suck me? doesn't seem like- oh fuck" he moaned as he felt the vibrator graze his tip. you giggled as you ran the toy along his length and watched his hips jump up. "so pretty like this, just at my mercy." you could hear the rattle of the cuffs against the chair, charles shoulders coming forward, hanging his head to see the torture.

his eyes started to gloss over as he slowly submitted to you. meanwhile, you were having a field day. you were using your mouth and the toy to slowly overstimulate your lover. while the toy was down at his balls, you were licking and sucking at the tip, milking him of his precum.

once you felt like he had enough, and his shoulders slumped, you moved the vibrator so it was at the top of his tip, right at the slit and circled it. his moans increased in volume, and his legs started to shake. "y/n! please, have mercy-fuck please" his hips pushed back against the chair, trying to escacep the overwhelming sensation. you followed his movements and held his legs down.

"I know baby, i got you, let go." you nipped at his hips and squeezed his thigh, trying to encourage him to cum.

suddenly, his stomach tensed, his hips popped up to your face, and he came all over his shirt and toy. his ferrari polo was covered in white, and the toy was quickly becoming sticky.

you immediately pulled the virbator away and went to uncuff charles from the chair. you delicately rubbed his wrists where angry red lines sat, and whispered praises in his ear.