Can you do Aaron x Rich!old money!non-bau!reader, where the team is invited for a dinner for the first time and r’s house is elegant and luxurious and the maids set up a 3 course meal and the team is just trying really hard not to fan girl? And since r is old money she is very classy and etiquette
The team wasn't sure what to expect when Hotch had mentioned his partner was hosting a dinner. He didn't talk about you much, not out of shame but out of privacy. All they knew was that you weren't in law enforcement, and from the brief mentions, you seemed poised, intelligent, and incredibly composed.
When the team arrived at your estate — because this wasn't just a house, it was an estate, several times larger than Rossi's mansion — they were stunned into silence. The wrought-iron gates had opened to reveal a long driveway lined with perfectly pruned hedges and lantern-lit trees. At the end of the drive stood your home, a stunning Georgian-style mansion that seemed to glow in the soft light from the setting sun.
Inside, it was even more breathtaking. Gleaming hardwood floors reflected the light of crystal chandeliers, and classical music played softly in the background. A maid in a newly ironed uniform greeted them at the door, offering to take their coats.
"Wow," Emily whispered to JJ as they stepped into the grand foyer. "This is like stepping into Pride and Prejudice."
"More like Downton Abbey," JJ replied, trying not to gape at the oil paintings and gold-accented details around the room.
Hotch was already waiting for them in the parlor, standing beside you. He looked utterly at ease in this space, his hand resting gently on your lower back as you greeted each of them with the kind of effortless elegance they’d only seen in old Hollywood movies.
"It’s such a pleasure to finally meet all of you," you said, your voice smooth and melodic. "Aaron speaks so highly of his team. I’m glad we could host you tonight."
When you invited them into the dining room, they nearly froze. The table was set for a three-course meal with polished silverware, fine china, and wine glasses so thin they looked like they’d shatter at a touch.
Rossi, the connoisseur of the team, leaned toward Morgan and whispered, "I’ve been to some fancy dinners, but this... this is next level."
The first course was served promptly by a small team of maids — velvety smooth soup accompanied by freshly baked bread, still warm and fragrant as it was placed in front of each of the agents. You sat at the head of the table, posture effortlessly elegant, your demeanor calm and inviting. Despite the opulence of the setting, you carried the conversation with a warmth that put them at ease. You asked about their work, their interests, and their families with a sincerity that softened even the most reserved among them. It wasn’t prying; it was a genuine curiosity wrapped in a refined charm that made each of them feel seen and valued.
"You’re very kind to host us," Reid finally said, his voice tinged with awkwardness as he fidgeted slightly with his silverware, not used to this style of dining. His gaze darted around the room, unable to fully process the splendor. "This is... beautiful."
"Thank you," you replied, offering him a gracious smile that somehow felt personal despite the formality of the setting. "This house has been in my family for generations, but Aaron and I are slowly making it our own."
Morgan, in the middle of a sip of wine, nearly choked. "Our own?" he sputtered under his breath, his sharp eyes darting toward Hotch. The words echoed in his mind, laden with implications. He glanced at Emily, who was carefully maintaining a neutral expression but raised an eyebrow in subtle acknowledgment of his reaction.
By the time dessert was served — a delicate soufflé topped with powdered sugar that the maids brought out in synchronized movements — the initial awe had faded into something more comfortable. You had a way of balancing the grandeur of your home with an approachable presence.
As the evening wound down, the glow of the chandelier cast a warm, golden light over the room. The laughter and conversation had softened into a comfortable hum, the kind that only comes from good food, good company, and a perfectly executed evening. Aaron leaned close to you, his voice low and steady, but deliberately audible enough for the team to catch. "I told you they’d like you," he said, the faintest hint of pride in his tone.
You turned to him, your smile radiating both grace and affection. With an almost imperceptible touch, your fingers brushed his hand, grounding the moment. "It’s easy to make a good impression when I’m hosting such wonderful people," you replied, your voice carrying the kind of calm sincerity that left no room for doubt.
As the team gathered their coats and made their way to the cars, the tension of the day seemed to melt away. Once outside, Garcia was unable to contain herself any longer, and spun toward the others, her eyes wide with excitement. "Okay, that was like having dinner with a Bond girl. Aaron Hotchner is marrying royalty. I mean, did you see that house?" she gushed, throwing her hands in the air for emphasis.
"And her composure," Emily chimed in, a mix of admiration and disbelief coloring her voice. "She’s like Grace Kelly reincarnated. Every movement, every word — she's so elegant. Honestly, I felt like I should have curtsied when I walked in."
Rossi smirked as he lit a cigar, the ember glowing faintly in the night. "Hotch always was full of surprises," he said with a chuckle, referring to the early days at the BAU when it was barely just Hotch, Rossi, and Gideon working on cases.
Meanwhile, back at the estate, the two of you stood at the top of the steps, watching the taillights of their cars fade down the winding drive. The stillness of the moment was a sharp contrast to the lively evening, but it was a welcome kind of quiet.
Aaron turned to you, his features softened by a smile. "I think they like you," he said.
You let out a soft chuckle, leaning into him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Good," you murmured, your tone was warm. "Because I adore you."
He reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as the soft rustle of the night surrounded you both. The estate, grand as it was, suddenly felt small and intimate — a fitting end to a perfect evening.
Notes: highkey this can just be read as dating headcannons LMAO 😭 got too distracted mid writing.
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊
“JESUS YOU’RE LIKE FLITHY RICH”
PRE-DATING:
The first time Maxxie met you he was stunned, you weren’t as mean or condescending as the other posh kids he knew.
He was unsure how to feel about you but he could agree on one thing: you were extremely attractive.
Maxxie instantly knew he liked you the moment you complimented his dancing abilities.
He tries to hint at his feelings a lot.
Assuming that you weren’t gay, he didn’t try to pursue anything serious with you. Only a few flirty remarks every so often.
But when he catches you making out with some guy at a Halloween party, it seems you’ve stunned him for the second time.
Now with the knowledge that you may be gay, he goes all out.
He follows you around like a lost puppy, forcing his friends (cough Anwar) to follow as well.
Slips out flirty remarks more than ever.
Winks at you every time you make eye-contact.
Maxxie stages many hang outs with you, tends to treat them like dates
“Wanna have sex?”
He’s very open about his feelings and unashamed
When you agree, trust he’s not treating it like a one night stand.
Maxxie genuinely likes you and is definitely going to be keeping you after this.
DATING:
The first time you use your card for him, he tries to object but seeing how happy you are after the purchase. He gives in.
Almost all your dates are paid by you. He tries to lend money every so often despite that.
Once he starts getting used to all the spoiling, damn is he using it to his advantage.
Maxxie drags you shopping with him all the time.
It ends up with you holding multiple shopping bags whilst Maxxie goes into another store.
You guys usually shop for three hours.
Your card is feeling it. (It isn’t)
If you buy him those new tap dancing shoes he’s been eyeing, he will literally give you head right then and there.
Which is something that happens often.
If you hesitate to buy him something, he bribes you with sex.
Due to your wealth, you're quite popular at Roundview college.
Your parents practically fund the school.
The principal fucking love you.
All the students fucking love you.
Which is no surprise because you're incredibly wealthy.
Often Maxxie gets insecure because of that reason. He can’t believe that out of everyone you could possibly be with, you chose him.
His insecurities get the best of him especially when he’s jealous.
Maxxie knows he’s not the type to get insecure over things like this which is why it unsettles him the most.
Your popularity means a lot of people are attracted to you.
If anyone flirts with you openly, Maxxie glares at them and if that doesn’t work, he yells at them to ‘piss off’
Anwar and Chris cheer him on. Not used to seeing Maxxie get confrontational.
It’s like a V.I.P show for them.
He needs a lot of reassurance after moments like that. He needs to know that you're loyal to him and that you love him. No one else.
Maxxie has seen Michelle and Tony’s relationship as well as Sid and Cassie’s, he really doesn’t want you guys to end up like that.
he loves it when you act like his very own hype-man.
Sends you videos of him dancing so you can help him adjust it.
Maxxie can get very possessive sometimes.
Always having an arm around you, kissing you all over, marking you with hickies and often loudly calling you his boyfriend.
When Maxxie is drunk, that’s his most clingy time. Always latched onto you and ranting about something that bothered him that week. That or he tries to sleep with you.
“Please don’t leave me…”
He gets the most vulnerable after sex or before going to sleep. He opens up a lot about his experiences and why he is the way he is.
Just hold him close and whisper sweet words and he’ll calm right down.
During the whole Sketch thing, he sticks by your side a lot.
Maxxie doesn’t feel safe in his own home anymore so after that situation, he decides to move in with you with permission from his parents.
His parents love you but obviously they’re still extremely over-protective.
The door should always be open when you’re over at his house.
Maxxie gets embarrassed at this rule.
After graduation, you move to London with him.
You help pay for his school fees as well as the house
“I’ve got enough” is all you say when he asks.
Maxxie grows less insecure as time goes by, feeling more secure with you as the years pass by.
RICH.ᐟREADER ,, cheetah print. takes no shit. expensive taste. silver jewelry. fur, fur, fur. lip gloss. megan thee stallion coded. always got a sassy comment. knows all the drama. still sheltered despite everything. bad bitch.
SKATER.ᐟMATT ,, beanies. backwards caps. baggy everything. cuts and bruises from skating. never not wearing rings. scratches your initials on the back of one of his boards. dominic fike coded. snarky & sarcastic.
NOTES ,, thank u to bae @lovesickgrlsrh0t for planting these brainworms in my head i fear these two are my literal faves atm </3 also the triplets hit 7m n im so proud of them 😞💓 MDNI thank u
YOU'D KNOWN OF MATT BECAUSE OF A MUTUAL FRIEND. the friend was someone you'd gotten to know at a party, not exactly in your crowd, but the party was one with various people who dabbled in various things. you liked the friend, yeah, and they talked about a friend of theirs called matt, often. a skater, like.. one of those types to get caught trespassing on private property whilst hanging out, or something. not the type to attend nice galas and drink the finest wines in fancy ass outfits.
so you hadn't really cared about him, no. he was just a guy you knew of. and to matt, you were just some stuck-up socialite who he'd happened to go to school with since kindergarten. he didn't hate you, no, but like.. he wasn't exactly fond of you. he wasn't into the whole high life you associated yourself with. so it was obvious: the two of you were total opposites and wouldn't interact ever. especially since it was senior year, why would you in the first place?
turns out, it was actually quite simple. you'd been skipping class, as per usual, but had gotten caught this time. matt hadn't completed his coursework. now? detention, for the both of you. you'd most definitely considered skipping detention, since you had other engagements to attend, but you knew your parents wouldn't let you attend any other engagments for the rest of your senior year if you did. you're very clearly upset about detention, a pout adorning your glossy lips, your eyes fluttering around with not an ounce of enthusiasm.
it was just you and matt, you quickly realise. you stare at him for a minute, eyes narrowing. this catches his attention, and he cocks a brow as he glances up at you, "you get detention for havin' a starin' problem or what?" he's blunt, almost dead pan, rolling his eyes at the sight of you just.. staring at him. this makes your brow furrow, "that ain't no way to treat someone you've never talked to before, is it? jeez." you scoff under your breath, folding your arms over your chest. not wanting to act all petulant infront of the.. barely even a teacher, it's some substitute.
matt's quiet as he watches you sit down, the way you sit a far bit away as if being next to him will degrade the expensive material of your outfit. a scoff escapes him, in a similar fashion to your own, and he shakes his head, glancing away. you have this tendency to.. well, not shut up, so you start whining under your breath about how you were supposed to be at some gala, mingling with other stuffy, rich people but you were here. with him.
matt's just watching you, completely baffled and amused by you. it was absolutely so shallow of you and pretty vapid, ut he found himself a little intrigued. his eyes liked what he was seeing, you're pretty, super pretty. you dress like you know it too. "uh," he starts, "you didn't ask for my two cents on the whole.. gala thing, and i know i ain't the type to even be goin' anywhere near those things, but—could always pay someone to go for you. you got the money, don't you?" that causes a silence to settle over you, and you're quiet for a minute.
but then you burst out laughing, a sound that matt knows he wants to hear more of. he tries to hide a small smile, but then you're switching up on him the instant you realise you're laughing at something he'd said. "i got the money, but i ain't payin' someone to enjoy the time i was going to. defeats the whole purpose, dumbass." the smile switching to a glare damn near gave him whiplash. his brow furrows once more, and he raises his hands in surrender.
"shit, okay, okay, keep whinin' then," god, he didn't understand you, not at all. you were something, alright. "..'n' who're you callin' a dumbass?" he mumbles under his breath, sighing as he glanced back at the ceiling once more. giving you a quick glare, in return, that ends your conversation quite abruptly. but both of you are intrigued by eachother, clearly.
"you look so out of place here, kid," matt can't help but laugh at you. the said mutual friend from before had invited you to some party at some random guy's house. a birthday party, or some shit. a total lapse of judgement on your part, you knew, and you'd literally snuck out of your parent's place to be there. why the fuck did you do that for? you looked so out of place, he was right. you're stood there like even touching a single thing'll kill you on the spot.
you glare at him instantly, folding your arms under your chest which instantly draws his attention down to your cleavage. you notice, of course, hating the way a warm feeling bubbles in your stomach from how he looks at you. "don't remember ever askin' for your input," your head tilts, "just 'cause you got a pretty face don't mean you needa' go 'round stickin' your head where it don't belong."
"you think i got a pretty face? how sweet," he sticks his tongue out, a soft smirk gracing his lips. he looks good. dark tufts of hair stick out from beneath his beanie, the colourful lights set up causing a nice sheen to glow down onto his face. you're not crushing on him though—no, no. he's just some skater. he could never give you what you want. "c'mon, relax a little," he says his words soon after his first few just so you don't get a chance to snap at his cocky remark, catching you off guard.
"i don't know anyone here," you mutter under your breath, fiddling with your expensive necklace, once again drawing his attention downwards. he's pretty sure you're doing it on purpose now, honestly, since you keep doing it. those nails.. he's imagining them wrapped around other things, that's for sure. "you know me," his voice is a little gentler, and he nods over to the kitchen where beer pong is set up, "it'll be fun. loosen' you up a lil' bit." you're skeptical for a moment, but you nod, making your way over with him.
he has to say, he's into how quiet you get when you're somewhere out of your comfort zone. you're not as mouthy, or annoying. as much as he loves your banter, the flirty insults between you two, well.. he likes you like this. "you've never played beer pong?" matt's literally gasping, staring at you like you're insane.
your face scrunches up at that, "well, yeah. no one's playin' beer pong at a party where they serve scotch—" you shake your head, sighing. he wanted you to loosen up? you'd loosen up. he gives you a look as if to say chill out, before he laughs quietly when you do, in fact, chill out. "i'll teach you. s'easy." his voice is easy, low. and you notice how close he's stood next to you. "you're a quick learner, m'guessin'."
"sure," you roll your shoulders in a shrug, glancing at the beer pong being set up for another round before you look back at matt. "yeah," you affirm after a minute. matt glances at you with a soft, incredulous look before he shakes his head. "c'mon, i don't bite. neither does the beer. at least, it shouldn't." you're calming down with him already, he likes that a lot too.
you'd had another total lapse of judgement, surprise surprise, having been swayed by the inarguably nice night with matt and his stupid, pretty face into becoming fuck buddies. perhaps not your finest moment, but definitely your most pleasurable. he makes you feel good, so, so good. takes away your stress from all your parents expectations, makes you feel taken care of. you two aren't exactly friends with benefits, more like.. people who know eachother, like acquaintances with benefits. but fuck buddies suits you two better.
it'd started off as getting together once, meeting at another party and giving into the raw attraction between you two. he'd had you beneath him, your legs wrapped tight around his hips as he bucked up into you with a brutal pace. his hands grasped at the bed around your head, a bed in which he had no idea whose it was. hey, he needed you, real bad. the logistics of everything hadn't crossed his mind once. "need you," you'd whined, voice breaking a little with how loudly you'd been crying out his name.
"you're gettin' me, baby," he grunted, grasping at the bed a little tighter as you clenched around him, practically trapping him there. his eyes lift up to yours, a flush covering his face at how damn good you feel. "what d'you want?" he growled, all breathless and heavy, like even speaking took a lot out of him. "need you, ah—after this, too," you couldn't have him just once, that wouldn't be fair. he felt too fucking perfect to only have once.
matt laughs quietly, realising you're on the verge of just babbling from how deep he's fucking you. "shh, sh, i got you," he murmured, lowering his head down to yours to press his lips down against yours to ensure you wouldn't keep talking. between kisses, he whispers, "gonna have me whenever you want, baby. whenever you want." that had you practically squirting, thighs trembling as the movements of his hips stuttered.
he kept up his promise, and whenever you wanted him, you got him. matt didn't want to seem desperate, but he was starting to like you, a lot. those snarky comments and bitchy glares started turning into fond looks and quiet compliments. he wasn't soft on you, he really didn't want to be—but there he was, letting you practically walk all over him in those expensive heels. it wasn't until a certain moment where you realised you felt the same as he did. he fell first, but god damn it, did you fall harder.
matt's buried so deep inside you, all you can think about, all you want to think about is him. he's overwhelming in the best way, having told you to keep your eyes on his or else he wouldn't give you what you wanted. "eyes on me, baby, wanna see those pretty eyes," he murmured, your legs hiked up onto his shoulders as opposed to his hips this time. you two had been in many different positions with eachother, sure, but this? how close he is? how he's balls deep inside your cunt? can't think straight.
you lift your eyes to his, swallowing thickly as another whine rips from your throat. he coos softly, "there you are. there's my girl," his girl? you're his girl? he's being so soft, and loving, nothing like he's been before or you've ever had before. it's making you feel some kind of way and it feels wrong, but so right at the same time. "makin' such pretty sounds, lookin' so lovely like this.. you take my dick so well."
"matt—" you gasp softly, trying to bring yourself as close as possible with a swivel of your hips forward. matt groans, his head falling down into the crook of your neck as he slides his hands down to grasp at your thighs. just the feel of the callouses on his hands from various skating accidents has you squealing and whining beneath him. "so good, shit, oh, oh—right there, riiight there.."
"right there? right there?" matt drives himself deeper within you, whining into your skin. his nose brushes against your soft skin, grunting under his breath with each thrust forward of his hips. "i've got you, c'mon, cum 'round my cock for me, let it go, there she is, that's it.." he's thrusting up into you through your orgasm, holding you as close as possible, and even with the pleasure clouding your brain, you're realising that you're most definitely in love.
maybe it's the slow drag of his cock against your walls, as he takes a slower, steadier approach to pounding you into the bed—maybe it's his sweet words, you don't know, but all of it coming together? you're in love.
You never drink the same coffee twice. Even though you love consistency in your life—your tailored trousers, your immaculate villa—you can’t stand ordering the same drink two days in a row. You’ll walk into different cafés, seeking out new blends, new roasts. Alexia teases you for it, says it’s the only thing unpredictable about you, but you know it’s not true. You just like the idea of a little chaos, as long as it’s controlled.
You hate the sound of notifications, the constant buzzing of texts and emails. It grates on your nerves, pulling you out of whatever silent reverie you’ve crafted around yourself. But you always make an exception for Alexia. Her messages never annoy you, not the way others do. When her name lights up your screen, it feels like a secret just for you.
Alexia keeps her side of the bed messy. It’s one of the few things she’s careless about. She throws her sweatpants and training tops in a heap at the foot of the bed, her phone charger tangled in the sheets, and you can’t stand it. But you never say anything because that mess is the only place where you let disorder exist, a little rebellion in an otherwise perfect world.
You hate shopping in person, hate the way stores smell like artificial fragrances and overpriced leather. You prefer your clothes delivered, hand-picked by a stylist who already knows your size, your preferences, your taste for understated but luxurious fabrics. Alexia, though? She loves a casual Saturday browsing the high street, insists on dragging you along because, as she says, "you need fresh air too." And you go, not because you want to, but because she asks.
You have a thing for watches—vintage, rare, impossibly expensive watches that you never wear but keep locked in a glass case in your office. Alexia doesn’t get it, doesn’t understand why you’d spend that kind of money on something you don’t use, but she humours you. You notice the way she glances at them sometimes, the subtle curiosity, but she never asks. She knows better.
Alexia talks to the dog in a soft voice you never hear her use anywhere else. She coos at her, scratches behind her ears, whispers things you can’t quite make out. It’s ridiculous, really. But every time you watch her, you feel a pang of something in your chest—a vulnerability you can’t name. You’ll never admit it, but you like that voice. You like that it’s just for her.
You both have a ritual for post-match nights. She’ll come home late, tired but wired, and you’ll have the bath ready—candles, salts, the works. You’ll sit on the edge while she soaks, both of you quiet, the steam rising between you. She’ll talk about the game in pieces, not a full breakdown, just fragments—an assist here, a near-miss there. You listen, nod, run your fingers through her wet hair, but you’re not thinking about football. You’re thinking about how fragile she seems in these moments, how raw and human.
You have a strange obsession with time, not in the sense that you’re late or punctual, but in how you think about it. You’ll find yourself staring at the second hand of a clock, watching it tick forward, knowing that with each movement, something irreversible is happening. Alexia doesn’t understand it; she’s always been rooted in the present, never one to dwell on what’s passing by. But you? You can’t stop thinking about it. Time slipping through your fingers like water.
You both have different tastes in music. Alexia loves Spanish pop, the kind of upbeat, catchy tunes that make her feel connected to her roots, while you prefer something darker, moodier—Radiohead, Portishead, maybe some obscure techno Alexia pretends not to hate. When you’re in the car together, you let her pick the music. It makes her happy, and that’s all that matters.
You have a secret habit of organising her trophies. Every time she’s away, you’ll find yourself standing in front of her trophy cabinet, straightening her awards, aligning her medals in perfect symmetry. It’s ridiculous, you know. She’d laugh if she knew. But something about seeing those tangible signs of her success, perfectly arranged, calms you. Makes you feel like, for once, everything is exactly where it should be.
𝜗ৎ she’s a diva, she’s a menace and she will make you cry with one single look.
𝜗ৎ vacations, education abroad, a chauffeur who drives everywhere and a most impressive collection of perfumes from all around the globe—she never lacked for anything growing up and that’s a privilege she both respects and is proud of.
𝜗ৎ when she has her mind set on something she will get it—one way or another. The word no? Never heard of it. She doesn’t care if she’s got to get her hands dirty—though she prefers silent scheming and behind the scene puppeteering—eventually, she’ll get what she wants.
𝜗ৎ she grew up surrounded by gold and luxury, so her taste is highly refined. Still, she knows to appreciate the little things in life and is secretly a romantic.
𝜗ৎ she’ll never make herself smaller to fit into someone’s narrative. The moment she sees the other person isn’t matching her energy and effort, she’ll simply drop them and move on with her life. Why cry about spilled milk when you can enjoy the views from a private penthouse suite instead?
𝜗ৎ Don’t mistake her for some naive little girl, even with her somewhat bratty temper. She’s fierce and intelligent—both qualities nurtured from a young age. She’ll go on a shopping spree in the morning and then attend a seminar about the eco sociological implications of climate change effects across different industries.
𝜗ৎ Lastly, despite her strong personality and the cold persona she uses to command boardrooms and ballrooms alike, she’s a kindhearted and soft girl on the inside who’s been hurt one too many times in life. With a little time and effort, someone might unlock that soft side of hers she keeps hidden.
best paired with:-
Damian Wayne, Sylus Qin, etc.
back to the !reader registry
Blurbs:-
nothing yet…
Fics:-
nothing yet…
Oneshots:-
nothing yet...
SMAUs:-
nothing yet...
I do not consent to copying, stealing or feeding my work to AI.
What are rich!reader and gangmember!Chris doing right now??
Rich!reader is probably in her room reading while listening to music, nothing like gangmember!Chris. He’s probably smoking in some random park with his friends, maybe even having a drink or two while thinking about rich!reader. He likely has her bracelet around his wrist, with some of his friends asking where he got it or who he stole it from.
Vibrating at the idea of Robby with Rich!Chubby!Reader who has super long acrylic nails, that are always some pretty pink or purple. She loves giving head and she’s super nasty about it too.
She jerks him off with her soft hands, nails perfectly circling his dick as she pumps him. She kisses at his weeping head. Giggling at it while giving it kitten licks and tiny kisses. She then laughs at his red face before fully engorging on his hard dick. Gobbling him up in her fat cheeks.
Her favorite thing to do is gag and moan around him while shaking her head. It always seems to have him clocking out. Eyes rolling up into his head while his hands grip at her head. Fingers pulling at her hair the whole time. It’s an amazing show to watch. Taking his dick down her throat in one gulp is no problem, even with how big he is. Her eyes are always half open as she gazes up at him though her lashes. Watching him fall apart from just her skilled mouth and tongue.
One of her favorite parts is when she randomly pops off and spits a fat white glob back on his dick before going right back to work.
Sarabi takes rich reader to a petting zoo for a "down to earth" date (he loves all the fancy stuff but we all need a break sometimes)
reader is absolutely obssessed with the baby animals. as a rich guy he probably had horses around and is just.... almost in tears when he sees a foal or a pony because it reminds him of his favorite stalion he had when he was a kid. rich reader fucking SOBBING when he holds a baby bird in his hands (im projecting because i would totaly cry if i got to hold one). and what's even better is that all the animals love rich reader, they flock to him for pets and even the old grumpy goat likes him. reader loves baby goats and sheep, holding them to his chest (while sobbing) and petting EVERYTHING.
reader ends up adopting an old farm dog and lets the dog live like a king in his massive estate.
Sarabi has to physically hold reader back from adopting everything.... or just an entire dog shelter
Stop, this is actually so cute. Sarabi is an animal lover (though it's not evident considering he's a grump most of the time) so he'd love the petting zoo as well.
He too cries when holding a baby bird, though he trusts you not to tell anyone about that. He's low-key envious of your ability to have all of the animals flock to you, it makes him grumpy. He has love to give the animals too!
Sarabi relates to the old grumpy goat though, says that's basically what he'd be like if he was a goat. How fitting that the grumpy goat likes you like he does, he thinks.
The old farm dog that you adopt is going to be trained to attack, just like how Kali's wolf, Shadow, was taught to by Sarabi. If there's anything that would spark an argument between you two, it's that you're on the side that the dog should be just living his best life at the estate while Sarabi believes the dog should be able to defend you both in case of an intruder.
My man's like "But we live in a lavish house that could be easily targeted to be robbed, the dog should be able to help me defend this home."
