#but like... different simons... ugh

[giggasnap]

I don't want to say it, but I must. We should all make our own alternate Simon's. Our Simon-sona's, if you will.

[crownedwille]

You're On Your Own, Kid - an August and Erik reflection

Inspired by these lyrics:

Summer went away, still, the yearning stays

I play it cool with the best of them

I wait patiently, he's gonna notice me

It's okay, we're the best of friends

Anyway

Thinking of first year August who is just so excited to be going to the same school as Erik, the crown prince and he definitely feels super giddy and proud to be related to the royal family and that they're sharing blue blood. Imagining him looking up to Erik, ever since they were kids, Erik the older, cooler one and August always followed him around in the palace, them often leaving Wilhelm behind, back when his parents were still together and they actually visited his father's cousin, crown princess Kristina and her sons sometimes before those visits stopped and everything fell apart.

And now 10 years later August wants to befriend Erik again, he made it his first year goal, wrote his plan down in an actual notebook and has certain methods to gain Erik's attention and trust and uses every chance he gets to talk to him. Erik needs to know him, needs to be aware of him and as future king, August wants to be in his good graces, as close to the royal family as he can. His parents messed that up, his mother is too diffuse and his father...well... August now has the responsibility, he needs to show his loyalty towards Erik, towards the monarchy.

Erik is being nice, he can tell August is a little over eager and he reminds him of a puppy following his owner around just like when they were kids but he likes August or likes the way he tries and indulges him and makes him feel welcomed and appreciated while subtly making him aware of the hierachies of the school but August eats it right up like yes, he made it, Erik likes him! And he's so fun and sweet, maybe they can really be friends!

From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes

I waited ages to see you there

I search the party of better bodies

Just to learn that you never cared

You're on your own, kid

You always have been

And then the initiation party happens at the end of the first week, it might start out innocent, just some silly little rituals but then they have to do these horrible things and that porn video is playing...and Erik is there and he's laughing...and August doesn't find it funny and feels kinda betrayed and thinks this is supposed to be cool to do to the first years? And you're letting this happen to me? I thought you liked me?

August had this vision of Erik in his head, the tall, commanding but funny boy he remembers from his childhood and the charming, polite guy he sees on pictures and on tv that both merged together but now he doesn't seem like that anymore. All of this feels wrong but he doesn't say anything, he knows the rules - follow and listen to the third years, he has heard it from others, he has heard it from Erik. No one is there to help him out of this so he swallows the revulsion down, grits his teeth and lets it happen. This is what he has to bear then so be it.

The next day Erik is slinging an arm around him and congratulating him about making it through his initiation and he's proud of him and impressed how well he handled it and now he knows he's a real one and August smiles (and doesn't question he's a real what? man?) because he made the crown prince proud and impressed and now they can really be friends and hang out more and Erik can teach him so much. He did it, he proved his loyalty towards Erik, towards the monarchy, he can make his family name important again and Erik likes him and that's all that matters.

[fandomfloozy]

No bc this irks me. It's the PRINCIPLE of the thing at this point.

Why all the people who were out here anticipating season 3 of Bridgerton and saying "I hope Penelope makes Colin work for it" and "I wanna see him on his hands and knees begging for her to forgive him" or "I want him to confess his love and for her to initially reject him" suddenly so QUIET now???

Where did y'all GO???

And I'm not talking to the girlies (gn) who read the book. I have a different bone to pick with y'all 🫵🫵🫵 about how you let us get our hopes up

Rn it's about the friends-to-unrequited-love-to-lovers enjoyers who suddenly ✨ DONT HAVE MY FUCKIN BACK ✨ and were won over by one (1) singular scene. It takes only the one (1) risque moment and suddenly you don't want "she fell first, he fell harder" x "what you needed was in front of you the whole time" done CORRECTLY and you've left me to myself SCREAMING

[sharkieboi]

while I do like how a lot of these new tv adaptations of book series have been updating and expanding the stories, what I wouldn’t give for an honest to god actual page-to-screen adaptation for once

[fefairys]

MAN. just finished the elements arc of our AT rewatch and watching ice king say like "listen lady im sure this simon guy is cool and all but im ice king, im a special person and i deserve respect!" and stuff hurts real bad man. he kinda was happier as the ice king.

[thebluebygracieabrams]

i want to have a iwtv friend that reads fic sooo bad so then we can send each other recs and say omg yes that's my favorite line too!!!!!!!! and so they can brave the tags for me and find me the stuff i want and love :(((((

[lay-z]

You have a question for your teammates.

cw: 18+ | fem!Reader; cussing; sexism; implied teammates to lovers; humor; suggestive

It’s loud on the makeshift base in the field, right in the middle of buttfuck Estonia. You’ve been stuck here on a training exercise for the past three days now, along with different squads from other branches and international armies.

Large tents are lining up the vast field, each one housing a number of soldiers. Naturally, Price put you with the men despite you being the only woman. Where’s the logic in putting you in a single bunk if that luxury doesn’t exist behind enemy lines in a bloody safe house?

“Hello!” you chirp as you approach the half-circle your squadmates are sitting outside the marquee.

They look up from their MRE’s. Kyle’s nose is scrunched up as he pokes around the flavourless rice, veggies and chicken while Johnny eats his dessert biscuit first, and Simon shovels spoonful of anything into his mouth without looking, balaclava tucked up over his nose.

“’ello, doll,” Johnny greets you first, wiping crumbs off his mouth with the back of his gloved hand. “Hi, princess,” Kyle follows, with Simon merely grunting with his mouth full.

Taking the empty seat in the circle, you sit down on hard ground and dry grass, criss-crossing your legs as you take out your water canteen.

“I have a question,” you announce.

“Awh, and ‘ere we go–” Simon rolls his eyes and you throw a pebble at him. “Hey, it’s important!”

Kyle chuckles. “What’s your question?” Johnny smacks his lips, reaches for his main meal after devouring the biscuit. “Aye, shoot.”

Once you’re sure that they’re all listening, you speak the question that has been burning on your tongue since seeking them out.

“What’s spit roasting?” you ask almost innocently.

Their reactions are immediate yet similar: Kyle sputters around the rim of his own canteen, water spilling as he caughs. Johnny’s bright blue eyes widen before he lets out a bark of laughter so loud, nearby soldiers turn around curiously. And Simon nearly chokes on his food, grabbing at his throat before smacking his own chest.

Needless to say, they’re all clearly shocked—and you still don’t know why.

It’s Johnny who catches his breath first: “Steamin’ Jesus, doll. Where’d ye hear that?”

Suddenly, you feel flustered, warmth creeping up your cheeks as you admit: “Some fellow officers asked me if I’ve ever gotten spit roasted by my teammates, and,” you shrug bashfully, “I assumed it means like... when someone insults you in a kinky and funny way?”

The three men share a glance that you can’t quite read before Kyle speaks up next:

“And what did you say, princess?”

There’s no backing down now, so you take a deep breath, bracing yourself for the humiliation before answering.

“I joked and said: yeah, every day, and that’s when they started laughing before telling me that that’s exactly what they thought.”

Johnny bites the inside of his cheek in an attempt not to laugh at your expense again, and Kyle just scoffs as he shakes his head. Meanwhile, Simon’s expression darkens at the audacity of those officers itself, his grip on his utensils tightening.

“Tha’s whot they said to ya?” Simon enquires gruffly, side-eyeing your appearance with a protective glint in his tawny eyes, clearly holding back a frown with the lower half of his face exposed.

Still oblivious, you nod. “Uh–huh, yeah.” Your eyes flit to look at each of their faces, gauging their reactions. “So, what does it really mean? Did I ever get spit roasted by any one of you?”

“Ugh, Ah wish.” Johnny smacks a hand over his face, groaning a curse into his palm and earning a kick with his boot to the shin from Kyle.

“Oi, stop that right now, Tav!” The older Sergeant chides, brows furrowing sternly while the Scot snorts and snickers behind his hand, rubbing his leg with the other.

Suddenly, Simon pats his spoon against your knee, grabbing your attention.

“If I tell you whot it means, you’ll be a good girl and show us those officers, right? Say yes.”

You nod obediently, flashing a little smile as you try to ignore the way your cunt flutters at the cooed pet name.

“Yes, sir.”

“Atta girl.” Simon grumbles before leaning in conspiratorially while Johnny and Kyle keep bickering in the background. Instinctively, you lean in as well, heart thudding faster in anticipation.

“Means two blokes are fuckin’ ya simultaneously. One in yer pretty mouth–” He points his spoon at your face, holding eye-contact. “The other fuckin’ yer sweet cunt.” He shrugs his broad shoulders and his black fatigues stretch taut over bulging muscle before he adds just as crudely: “Or arse.”

Your mouth is agape as you peer up at him, lips parted as your eyes have widened with every word from him. And then Simon smirks, nudges his spoon under your chin to close your mouth. It all makes so much more sense now.

“Bloody hell, Lt.” Kyle utters across from you.

Johnny nods in approval and continues to eat as if nothing happened, speaking with his mouth full.

“Couldnae ‘ave said it better m’self, sir.”

Kyle hums, then shrugs and nods in quiet agreement.

“Olright, then,” the Lieutenant grunts, straightening up and cracking his neck from left to right before tidying up his tray. If on cue, both Kyle and Johnny start wrapping up, too.

“Now show us those bloody bastards who think they can mess with our girl.” He says, pulling his balaclava back into place.

Based on my real life experiences and obliviousness heh 🙂

[themyscirah]

This book is making me miss the new 52 😔

[d-emeter]

Types of lingerie they'd go a little feral over — plus-size!fem!reader x cod characters

Includes: Price, Soap, Ghost, Gaz, König, Graves, Alejandro, Rudy, Valeria

CW: mid/plus-size reader, photos of people wearing lingerie!, mentions of sex/sexual activities

Photos are not indicative of reader's body type/skin colour/other physical attributes! Just meant to be examples, but us bigger girls deserve some rep on here (but also why is it so hard to find cute pics of mid/plus-size girlies that aren't ads or extremely edited?)

All rights go to owners of the photos! I tried to crop out their faces as best I could <3

John Price

Price would love anything feminine. He adores when you play into his housewife kink, parading around the house in babydoll dresses and fur-lined robes (preferably sheer). He wouldn't even bother with taking the pieces off once he gets his hands on you, simply pulling and adjusting where necessary. Not above ripping either, but don't worry, he'll gladly buy you some new sets. Maybe he should get you some of those crotchless panties, poppet, would save him a lot of hassle.

Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish

Listen, as much as he loves it seeing you all dolled up, there is nothing that gets him going quicker than you in some raggedy, hole-ridden comfy clothes, preferably when they're his. His boxers framing your plump ass so nicely, digging into your flesh a bit when you move and his shirt doing nothing to hide the jiggle of your tits while your nipples poke through the fabric. If he sees you like this, his hands are all over you in a split second. God forbid your shirt is cropped, showing off your soft tummy and the underside of your breasts — you couldn't pry him off with a crowbar.

(you cannot tell me Johnny doesn't own some dumbass boxers like this)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

In fear of repeating myself, I think Simon would also go a little dreamy-eyed over you in your comfies. Except, unlike Johnny, he loves those sweet little pj-sets you wear. He's still a little taken aback every time he comes home to you curled up on his — your — couch. The realization that he has something this sweet to come home to — that he has a home at all, hitting him like a freight train. Like Price, doesn't bother taking your pajamas off when he pounces on you. Just makes it easier for him to tuck you into bed after he's done with you.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

Garters, belts, straps, buckles, the whole thing. And best believe he's the one picking them out, too. You'll randomly find boxes on your bed, the contents in different styles, colours, fabrics. He insists you model them for him, or send him pictures if he's deployed. The sets are an absolute nightmare to get into, but he'll gladly help you take them off, darlin'. Don't mind him though, if he snaps a photo or two in the process. Also loves it when you wear lingerie as part of an actual outfit. What can I say, the man loves showing you off (with the knowledge he's the only one that gets to see the full sets and everything underneath them later).

König

Anything resembling some cheap halloween costume from party city. It honestly doesn't matter to him what; sexy secretary, naughty nurse, you name it. Literally whatever. He will lose his mind a little if you go as far as to engage in some roleplay pertaining to whatever you're wearing — acting like he's your boss or your patient. Oh, a pair of animal ears can and will make his eyes roll back in his head. (He will, however, ensure that your outfits are of relatively good quality — they've gotta outlast a least a few rounds, Schatzi).

Philip Graves

Ugh, he's so nasty (affectionate). He wants you to look hyper-feminine. His perfect little all-american wife (even if you've never set foot in the usa, or don't yet wear a ring on your finger) in her hyper-feminine lingerie, waiting for her soldier to come home. Frilly bras, lacy undies and silky night dresses in white or pink or any pastel shade. He gets off on the innocence they exude — makes him want to ruin you. And then wife you up. Maybe give you a baby or two.

Alejandro Vargas

Corsets!!! Or anything somewhat structured, really. This man adores the shape of your body no matter what, and the way the corset only accentuates the curve of your waist and pushes your tits up so deliciously has him rock fucking hard. If you choose to add some thigh-highs to that with the plush fat of your thighs spilling over the edge you may as well have killed him. He also has this weird infatuation with the marks the corset leaves on your skin after you (or he) take it off.

Rodolfo 'Rudy' Parra

This poor man nearly faints the first time you wear lingerie for him (and pretty much every time after that). It doesn't particularly matter to him what it is, but he does like it when you stick to the classics: simple lacy bra and panty set. He likes that it makes you feel confident and (relatively) comfortable, as your comfort is always his number one priority. He also just thinks the simplicity of the sets helps accentuate the beauty of your body, rather than distract from it.

Valeria Garza

Anything expensive. Like, crazy expensive. She has the money, amor, why not spend it on something she enjoys? She'll make sure you only wear the highest quality fabrics (and that goes for all your clothing, by the way, she likes taking care of her girl). There are diamonds glittering all over your body, highlighting all your curves and twinkling with every move you make, and a nice string of pearls disappearing between your folds.

(I couldn't find ANY photos of this type of lingerie on bigger bodies, my apologies. Rest assured Valeria will get everything custom-made for you — remember, only the best for her girl)

[maskedbyghost]

Okay but I think it would be so fun for the roles to be flipped for once. A man flirts with out possessive reader and simon absolutely loses it. Tells her she belongs to him, maybe leaves a big ole lovebite on her neck. Ugh I need him

Alright, this one’s for all of you who wanted Simon to be just as possessive as the reader. I didn’t hold back here, did I? Hope this hits the spot! Let me know your thoughts in the comments, ly byee!

You were just going through the aisles, minding your own business, when it happened. You barely noticed at first, just some guy hanging around, trying to offer you help with a box of cereal. You smiled politely, not thinking much of it, but when you glanced over at Simon to tell him something, you saw his jaw tighten, his grip on the cart getting a little too hard. He didn’t say anything, but you knew that look. You’d seen it before, but never directed at you.

You didn’t really care when the guy leaned a little too close, standing too near you while you picked out what you needed. You knew Simon was behind you, just a few steps away, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was watching, his eyes boring into the back of your head. The guy didn’t know it, but he was already in the danger zone.

The worst part? The guy was talking to you like he owned the place. Smiling too much, leaning into your space, trying to keep the conversation going like you were the one who wanted it. You saw Simon shift, his eyes narrowing, and you didn’t need to be looking directly at him to know that his patience was running out.

When you caught his eye again, he didn’t look mad, not exactly. He looked… frustrated. Frustrated in a way that you didn’t quite understand, at least not yet. You hadn’t ever been on the receiving end of Simon’s jealousy before, but you were starting to get it now. He didn’t want to share you, not even a little, and it made him uncomfortable in a way you hadn’t expected.

Before you could say anything, Simon was there. He didn’t make a scene, didn’t grab the guy by the collar or push him away. He didn’t even address him directly. All he did was slide his hand around your waist, pulling you just a little closer, just enough for the guy to see the way Simon looked at you, possessive and silent, his presence like a barrier.

But the guy didn’t get it. He tried to keep talking to you, but Simon wasn’t having it. Not once did he raise his voice; not once did he look at the guy. He simply turned his head and said one word, flat and cold: “Mine.”

You weren’t even sure if the guy heard him or not, but you saw his expression falter, a little unsure now. He stepped back, hands raised like he was trying to say ‘hey, no harm done,’ but the damage had already been done in Simon’s mind. That was the first time you realized just how much Simon hated the idea of anyone even thinking they had the right to get too close to you.

As the guy walked away, Simon didn’t let go of you. He just kept you right there, close enough that you could feel the heat of his body against yours. His voice was low, just for you, but you heard every word. “Don’t know why I have to share you with the world,” he muttered, almost to himself, like he was angry at the universe itself. “They get the privilege of seeing you, but they won’t ever touch what’s mine.”

The words made you pause for a second, something heavy settling in your chest. “You’re not mad at me,” you said, almost a question. You were used to being the one who got possessive, who got territorial, but now… it was Simon. And it was different.

“No,” he muttered, his voice low, but there was no mistaking the possessiveness behind it. “I’m not pissed at you.” He sounded almost… conflicted, like he was trying to get across something without making it seem like a big deal, but his anger was still there, simmering. “It’s just… I fucking hate the way everyone else gets to see you. I hate that I can’t keep you all to myself.”

Your heart raced, a little thrill running through you at the thought of Simon—normally so in control—suddenly feeling like he had to fight for you. You liked it. You liked that he couldn’t hide it, that this was the first time you’d ever seen Simon struggle with the fact that other people even noticed you. You could feel it in the way he kept you close, his hand tight around your waist, like he didn’t want to let go.

He wasn’t done, though. His voice came again, this time with a rough edge to it. “Every time someone thinks they can get too close to you, it just makes me want to remind them that you’re mine. And when I see you talking to someone like that…” He trailed off, his lips curling into a snarl. “I fucking lose it.”

You were too busy soaking it all in to answer at first, too caught up in the way his words made you feel. You weren’t used to him like this, so out of control, and you had to admit that part of you thrived on it. You were always the one getting possessive, but now, for the first time, it was his turn.

The tension between you both was thick, so thick you almost didn’t notice when he started pulling you toward the exit. You only realized what was happening when you were outside, the cool air biting at your skin, and Simon was already pushing you up against the side of the building, eyes wild with that possessive hunger you’d seen a hundred times before.

“Simon,” you breathed, but he wasn’t listening. He was too busy claiming you, lips crashing into yours, hands rough on your neck. He pulled you close, body pressed tight against yours, and you could feel all the anger in his kiss.

He didn’t stop kissing you and didn’t stop his hands from roaming your body. He was marking you, claiming you in a way that sent shivers down your spine. When he pulled back just enough to drag his teeth across your neck, you bit back a gasp, and that’s when he spoke again, voice low and dangerous.

“You think anyone else could ever have you like I do?” His voice was rough, filled with jealousy, but there was a dark satisfaction in it, too. He kissed you again, rougher this time, like he was trying to erase every trace of anyone else from your skin. “You’re not theirs to want. You’re mine in ways no one will ever understand.”

The words struck something deep inside of you. You could feel the weight of them, the truth in them, and your chest tightened as he pulled you even closer, his body pressing hard against yours.

His hands roamed down your body again, finding that spot where your skin seemed to burn just for him. "No one will ever touch you the way I do. No one will ever make you feel like this. They can’t. They won’t."

You let out a shaky breath, your hands tightening in his hoodie as your body pressed against his even harder. "Simon, you—"

He cut you off with another deep kiss, his lips fierce and demanding. “You’re not just mine,” he murmured against your mouth, his breath ragged, “You belong to me. In every way that matters. And no one will ever be allowed to take that from me.”

His grip on you tightened, his hand sliding to the back of your neck, forcing your face upwards to meet his gaze. “Every time someone thinks they can just walk up to you, I’m going to remind them,” he snarled, his voice a dark promise. “You’re mine. And I’ll make damn sure no one gets the chance to look at you, touch you, or speak to you like that again. They’ll all learn the hard way that you don’t belong to anyone but me.”

Your heart raced, blood rushing in your ears. This wasn’t just possessiveness anymore—it was something deeper, darker. And for the first time, you felt the intensity of Simon’s own jealousy, something you hadn’t fully experienced before.

“Simon,” you whispered, trying to catch your breath, “I’m yours, you don’t have to—”

“No,” he growled, cutting you off, “I don’t have to do anything. But I will. And every single person who dares think they can come close to you will be reminded exactly who the hell you belong to.” He kissed you again, his lips pressing hard against yours, claiming you, his hands tight on your hips, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t get enough.

When he finally pulled away, his breath was shallow, and his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them. His fingers were tracing the line of your jaw as if he wanted to memorize every detail of your face. “I don’t share, sweetheart,” he whispered. “And you’re not going anywhere.”

Your chest tightened with desire, the intensity of his words sinking into you. The way he spoke—like he was ready to fight for you, to own you in the most raw, primal way—made your heart race. You gripped him tighter, breathless with how much you wanted him.

"Fuck," you whispered, your voice heavy with understanding, "now I get it... why you get hard every time I show my possessive side." You smirked, feeling that rush of heat at the back of your neck. "You're just as insane as me, aren't you?"

Simon’s gaze darkened even more, if that was even possible. His lips curled into a grin, predatory and wild, his grip tightening on you. “You’re damn right I am.” He leaned in close, his voice a harsh whisper against your ear. “And that’s why no one else will ever have you like this. Not now, not ever.”

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

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6 @tessakate @xocandyy @nightfwn @robinfeldt98 @bunnyxiis

[c0ffinshit]

Simon (John Q.) SFW AND NSFW Headcanons

a/n: i knew yall would like that so here are so hcs that i had that i can now share with the world

warnings: controversial, mentions of pussy eating, me speaking my truth

SFW:

okay, first off, this man claims to HATE modern music but… he has a soft spot for Fiona Apple

listen, this man is madddd and if he were a woman he would be a mean butch lesbian

he always drives you everywhere

even when you’re like “babe i can drive its fine” he’s like “no, i’ll drive”

he tells people his favorite movie is something film bro-y like fight club, but his favorite movie is something like little shop of horrors or when harry met sally

sorry im projecting

honestly, he is bad about talking about his emotions like homie doesn't have the words for it so he just gets angry

BUT he learns a lot from you about that

actually, you learn a lot from him too

he talks so highly of you, even before dating

like always talks about how he can hardly have a good and controlled day without you

if you two are a long distance away, he'll always call you and talk about your day

but even then, you two will stay on the phone for hours, just talking about whatever and how much you miss each other

always tries to be a sweet boyfriend and make you breakfast

expect he will burn it and the kitchen will be on fire

i will say this: simon is a sensitive boy, esp with people's emotions like if you're sad and crying about something you called 'stupid' he'll still hold you and tell you how not stupid it is

he HATES when you're upset, esp if he can't do anything to help you

he'll just sadly watch you til you feel better

and when you do, he'll get you your favorite blanket and stuffed animals and kiss you like the good bf. HE. IS.

sorry, my daddy issues are on full display *sobs*

definitely doesn't like it when you call him babygirl or pookie

even as a joke

the man doesn't get that

my man has an old soul IM SO FR

like he doesn’t really like modern TV or music

movies… that a different story

HE FUCKING LOVES MOVIES.

especially if it is like a movie musical or high fantasy (like lotr or hobbit)

maybe a comedy but like a comedy from like the '60s that is probably super offensive now

nfsw under the cut

NSFW:

first off, do i agree with the top allegations for simon? kinda.

listen listen, i only say kinda because of the fact that this man has angry ISSUES

like if you are being a brat, this man doesn’t hold back definitely into spanking for this reason

OKAY I HAVE A THING… when you two do it together, he is very… parental (if that makes sense)

like yes he is daddy we know but like he is the type to whisper “this is for your own good” as he spanks you

two words: BODY. WORSHIP.

this man will kiss and touch your body like it's your last day on earth

AUGH AND AND the look he gives you when he’s inside you FUCKKKKKKK

the look is filled with so much love and gratitude for you okay like this needs to be stated at all but like 8 inches

the type of 8 inches that hits against your cervix in the right way

AND ANOTHER THING when you two first get together, his libido is very low

which also means he is very easy to take care of

soooooo if you wanted to just do a blowjob, you hypothetically could

but then, like three or four months into dating, HORN DOG.

you're surpised when he isn't pressing against your while cuddling

but if anything, you’ll be the one getting head, not him

THIS MAN IS PUSSY WHIPPED.

like he will grab your thighs and pull you closer while eating you out he lovesssss hearing your moans when you're under him UGH

dude but like on the rare time like he will bottom, its lowkey kinda…

JOHN Q IS A SWITCH AND I WILL CONTINUE TO SPEAK MY TRUTH

this mfer groans like no tomorrow when he does bottom

soft,,,, begg…ing

like “you’re so good.” and then under his breath its “please keep going.”

also that boy has a praise kink with hints of degradation

am i saying that because i wrote a whole fic about it? yes. fuck yes.

im chewing at the bars of my enclosure

he gets so blushy when you look at him with your fuck-me eyes

COMMUNICATE WITH THAT BOY.

tell him what you want

tell him where you want it

tell him about your fantasies of him

he loves hearing your voice, especially when you talk in a soft and seductive voice

listen, the only reason i kinda don’t agree with the top allegations is because i believe JOHN Q IS A SERVICE TOP.

i've made my point very clear about that throughout this section

[miss-dollette]

Simon "Ghost" Riley is a very big boy.

So, my husband is quite a tall guy (6'4"), so I have first-hand experience of what it's like to be in a totally different atmosphere with a lover. Since Ghost is such a huge guy, I decided to write some little headcanons of what it's like to be so much smaller than him.

Anyway, who else is putting serious overtime at work for Christmas??

TW: Unedited, a little spicy, size kink.

Big boy.

Very, very, VERY big boy.

Big boy, in every way possible.

Requires half an hour of foreplay before getting to the main course. Sometimes, even that's not enough.

Hands so large they could practically wrap around the back of your skull. He'd grabs you there, sometimes, and move your head to face him as he thrusts.

His fingertips can touch the tips of each other when he wraps his fingers around your throat.

Silver scars and sores from war litter his hands, and they're calloused like hell, too. Don't worry, he'll touch you so softly you won't even notice.

His whole hand covers the entire valley of your ass and upper thigh. God forbid he uses his full strength to slap your ass 'cause you won't be surviving.

Muscular but with a layer of fat. This man doesn't miss a meal, and theirs definitely no leftovers for the next day.

Works out like a bull. Before the sun even rises, he's in the backyard, lifting 50 pound/23 kilo dumbells over and over until he's practically dead. Then comes the mini marathon he does every day. By the time you make breakfast, he's already finished his Olympic level workout routine.

Playfully flexes for you when you compliment him.

He can definitely do this to you:

He loves holding both of your hands in his palm.

Veiny forearms that are to drool for. Ugh, seeing him with rolled up sleeves...

Doesn't fit in the shower. Has to lean down to wash his hair because he's practically touching the ceiling.

Has back pain. He will lay on the floor and tell you to walk on his back to soothe his sore muscles.

Would be arrested for attempted murder if he ever tried to do a trust fall with you.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Hello!

Can you make a Virgin! Perv! Eddie fic with an assumed innocent! Virgin! Fem! Reader?

Eddie and reader are friends and he flirts with her often, but she’s all blushing and shy, very much a good girl vibe. Maybe he suggests to her to do some “self care” like Simon does with Daphne in Bridgerton…? And he sneaks out to her house and peeps her window to watch her change and stuff but finds her taking his advice and touching herself?? He doesn’t join in but jerks off outside the window to her.

Then maybe a next day scene where Eddie confronts reader and asks if anyone’s ever touched her like that before and offers to do it for her the next time she wants help?? Maybe a giggly dumb smut scene with them in a part two???

Bonus points for a girly girl reader or a chubby reader! 🥰

ugh i love this idea!

cw: masturbation

part two

Eddie knows he shouldn’t peep, but he just can’t help it. He knows he can see a woman undress on TV or even in porn, but seeing you in your pretty, lacy bras, god, that does more for him than anything else. Just one glimpse and he feels himself getting hard. 

And because he’s not a total perv, he quickly hurries to his own trailer before you get fully undressed. Besides, he likes to leave the rest up to the imagination. Imagining you taking off the bra in front of him really does wonders for his late night fantasies. 

He wonders if he’ll ever get the chance to sleep with you but he knows he won’t. Because he’s the weird metalhead who plays Dungeons and Dragons and women typically aren’t into that kind of thing. So, he thinks he’ll just settle for the little waves you give him when you see him around the trailer park and he has to act like he hasn’t seen you in your underwear. 

God, what he would give to squeeze your chubby thighs as he kisses you stupid, to love on your stomach because he sees the way you look at yourself in the mirror sometimes. He would want you to know how hot he thinks you are because fuck are you the hottest woman he’s ever seen. 

He hurries out the door to head to work and of course, you’re there, getting into your car. And he makes a beeline for you, resting his hand on the passenger door so you can’t go anywhere. He wants to look at you a little longer. You’re in one of your cute little dresses that Eddie loves. Bonus points when the wind blows your dress up ever so slightly so he can get a glimpse of your panties. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says as he leans in, his face only inches from yours. If he wasn’t so concerned about scaring you off, he’d lean in and kiss you. Your lips just look so inviting with that pretty pink gloss you’ve got on. He wants to kiss you until you’re both breathless then go to work where everyone’s going to ask why he’s wearing lip gloss and he’ll get to tell them that he had the honor of kissing the prettiest girl in Hawkins. 

“Hi, Eddie,” you reply, pulling him out of his daze. “How are you?” 

“Just peachy,” he replies, reaching up and fixing your cardigan that had fallen off your shoulder. It being bare is just a distraction because all he wants to do is leave hickeys across it. God, he got one glimpse of you changing by accident and now he can’t stop peeping on you or thinking about you in filthy ways. “And yourself?” 

Eddie is cute, hot, even. And you don’t know why you can’t get the guts to ask him out. You know he’s just flirting with you because it’s just who he is, but you just want to know if he’d be that nice if he took you out to dinner. 

And you can’t help but wonder what would happen afterwards. If he’d walk you to the door and kiss you there then wait for you to go inside before he went back to his own trailer. 

Your thoughts are so different to Eddie’s. So pure and sweet and that was one thing that he likes about you. That you see the world so much differently than he does and it’s always so refreshing to him. 

You seem tense and Eddie has no idea why. He wants to, though. He wants to know why, hoping that he’s not the cause of it. He would hate to be the one that makes you uncomfortable even though he’s pretty sure that he’s not. So it has to be something else. 

“Something bothering you, sweetheart?” he asks as he pushes some hair out of your face, his hand resting on your neck. 

You don’t want to tell him the truth, that he’s what’s bothering you. You have so many feelings towards him and you’re not sure how to get them out. You’re very close to just kissing him to see if his lips are as soft as you’re hoping. But you don’t. You can’t. You don’t have the confidence to do so and it’s killing you. 

You wish you were more like the girls you worked with. The confident kind who wouldn’t even bat an eye when it came to kissing a cute boy. You’re the kind who just fantasizes about it without ever actually following through with your desires. It’s too risky, especially since he’s your neighbor. If he doesn’t want to then you’re just going to think about the rejection every day for the rest of your life. And if he does kiss you back, then he’ll probably want more and you’ve never gotten to that part so you’d just end up embarrassing yourself. 

“I just-” you pause, feeling the frustration rising in you and Eddie is shocked, but also slightly amused since he’s never seen this side of you. “When’s it gonna be my turn?” You ask, looking him in the eyes. 

“For what?” He asks gently, his thumb rubbing up and down your neck with a featherlight touch. 

“For-for sex,” you blurt and Eddie doesn’t mean to laugh, but he’s just so caught off guard. Not only by your words, but also your outburst. He never expected to see you like this. 

“You do know you don’t need a partner for that sort of thing. When it’s late at night and you’re-”

“Sleeping?” Eddie laughs again. God, you’re so cute. 

“Pleasuring yourself,” he finishes and you still seem to be confused.

“Pleasuring myself?” Of course you’ve heard of it, but it’s never something you’ve done yourself. And it’s not that you haven’t wanted to, but nothing has ever made you feel that way. Nothing has ever made you feel the need to do so. 

“You do masturbate, right?” All you can do is shake your head and Eddie doesn’t judge you. He would never. He doesn’t get it, but he supposes that this could be a teaching moment. 

“You can pleasure yourself, no partner needed,” he repeats. “It especially does the trick when it’s between the legs,” he leans closer, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth. It’s like he knows what he’s doing to you, but the truth is that Eddie has no idea. He’s too busy thinking about how hot you’d look lying on your bed with your hand in your underwear, your eyes shut tight as you let out the hottest moans, your back arching as you reach your orgasm. 

“And when you find what feels best, you just continue until you orgasm.”

“But how do I get there? What do you do?” He’s surprised you have so little knowledge when it comes to the subject, especially when the internet exists, but again, he’s not going to judge. If he had it his way, he’d make you lie against the hood of your car and talk you through it while your fingers pumped in and out of you. And then as a reward for being such a good teacher, he’d lick your fingers clean then spread your legs wide, fucking you so hard that you’d be forced to call out of work because you couldn’t walk.

“I just imagine someone, maybe a situation that gets me hard and then go to town. I’d love to stay and chat about this sweetheart. Believe me, I really would, but I’ve gotta get to work. Give me a call afterwards and we can chat about it, okay?” 

He presses a kiss to your cheek then heads back to his trailer where his van is parked. You stand there, still in shock from your conversation. You had no idea that it would get to that point but now you have so many questions that you’d really like for him to answer, but they’ll just have to wait until tonight. 

You think about Eddie’s words the entire day. You’re so distracted as you sit at your desk, surprised that you’re able to write out an email to your boss, because all you can think about is Eddie and his words and how badly you want to call him after work and have him talk you through the pleasure he’s talking about. You want to do it, but you want to do it right. And you’re sure that he’d be able to teach you. 

You get home from work after the longest day of your life and as much as you want Eddie’s help, you think your first time should be by yourself. It only seems right. So after you set your purse by your desk before taking off your pants. You sit on the edge of your bed and try to get in the right headspace. 

You lie on your bed with your head on your pillow and spread your legs ever so slightly, closing your eyes as you slowly stick your hand on your underwear, pushing them into your cunt with the lightest touch. You pump in and out as your mind goes to Eddie, imagining him being the one to touch you like this. 

That seems to do the trick because the next thing you know, you’re moaning. You don’t know why you were so nervous. This is easy and definitely the most pleasure you’ve ever felt, especially when you have Eddie’s face in your mind, guiding you through the motions. 

You can imagine how his rings would feel inside you, the cold metal thrusting in and out as he smiles down at you with a devilish grin, telling you just how good of a girl you are. You want him, need him so desperately that you’re moaning his name as you reach your first orgasm. 

Eddie can’t believe what he’s seeing. He had every intention of watching you change, but now he’s stayed for the show. Seeing that you’ve taken his advice has filled him with a pride that he’s never experienced. He’s also super hard. So much so that he needs to take care of himself, and now. And when you moan his name as you climax? Oh, he’s done for and his pants have dropped to the ground before he can even process what he’s doing. 

He pulls down his underwear and takes hold of his cock, giving it a few slow pumps, wishing that you were the one to jack him off. His eyes flutter shut as he throws his head back, his pumps getting harder and faster as he covers his mouth to stifle his moans. You can’t know that he’s out there watching you. That’s just his little secret and he’d be mortified if you ever found out. 

“Eddie,” you moan out again and he thinks he’s going to come right then and there. God, he needs to hear that while he’s above you pumping in and out, in and out as he fucks you hard and deep, wanting you to cry on his cock as he gets all of himself inside you. 

He needs to hear you beg for him, your whiny moans making him even harder as he pounds into you. He needs to fuck you so hard that you’re unable to walk. But this is the closest he’s ever going to get. Because you’re a nice girl and he wouldn’t want to corrupt you like that. He’s always never actually had sex and he’d be embarrassed to admit that to you even though he’s sure that you never have either. 

His pumps get slower as he imagines how gentle you’d be with him. You’d be so gentle with him and he can’t help but let his mind wander to how you’d suck him off. If you’d take him all at once or inch by inch. You’re his good girl so you’d probably go for it all at once because of how badly you’d want to please him. And he’d fuck your mouth in a rapid speed as he hands tug on your hair, his balls slapping about because of how fast he’s going. 

That seems to do the trick because Eddie finishes fast, cum leaking out of his cock and god does he wish you could clean it up for him. He doesn’t bother wiping it off as he pulls up his underwear and jeans before heading inside for a much needed shower where he’s going to think of you some more. 

Once you’ve gotten your fill, you get the best sleep of your life, wondering why you had been so hellbent on finding a partner when you had the capability of pleasuring yourself the whole time. You got exactly what you wanted and didn’t need anyone’s help to do it. Even if you wanted a certain curly haired metalhead to do the honors. Maybe if you’d get the guts to ask him, he would. He’d do anything for you, even though you weren’t aware of it.

[oceantornadoo]

betrayal (simon riley x f!reader)

in the same universe as two lieutenants

--

"what the fuck, simon."

you slammed down a stack of papers on his desk. he tilted his head up, eyes moving fast as they read what was in front of him. leaning back, he crossed his arms and spread his legs in his desk chair, the picture of composure. "use your words, lieutenant."

you scoffed, unbelieving. "i put in a transfer and you deny it? we're the same rank, you shouldn't even be able to do that." he shrugged, eyes darting away. guilty. "don't know what yer talkin' about. same rank, remember?" you rolled your eyes, feet starting to pace his office floor out of anger. "i thought we were friends, simon." you stopped, the hurt swelling into your words. all your emotions hit at once. betrayal. sadness. you thought he'd be different. "and- and then i see this?" you swiped a hand angrily at your eyes, wiping away the tears before they formed. "what, you just want to hold me back? i want to be a captain and i can't be one on this team. you know that."

he knew that because of late nights in his room over tea, sharing deep secrets. you on his bed, him in his extra chair, whispers exchanged in the dark of the night. the trust you put into your fellow lieutenant was unimaginable, the weight of it immeasurable. your foolish mistake had come to bite you in the ass.

"dove, 's not what you-"

"don't you dare call me that." your finger up against his chest, accusing. his nickname for you too hurtful for you to hear right now. "lovie, let me explain i-" you turned around, heading for the door. done with this bullshit.

and then suddenly you were up against the door, simon's masked hand covering your mouth. he wasn't even breathing hard, the exertion barely making a dent in his stamina. he towered over you, eyes shining through his eyeblack and his simple black balaclava. the thumb of his hand covering your mouth brushed your jaw, a soothing motion to calm you down. "gonna be a good girl and listen?" his thigh was wedged in between your legs, mostly to keep you from bolting, but he used it to emphasize his words. you felt wetness pool in your underwear, your body betraying your mind. you rolled your eyes, but after seeing his facial expression not change, you finally nodded. he took his hand off your mouth, brushing your cheek before leaving it, his thigh forgotten between your legs.

"i denied it 'cause i'm a selfish bastard." your eyes widened in shock. confusion. were you right? "i just-" he took a breath, hand reaching to run through his hair before realizing he had his mask on. he yanked it off, throwing it to the side.

"i just wanted you to myself, ok? heard the team you applied for was gonna go dark for years in russia in an undercover op. and i can't-" his eyes seared into yours, both sets of pupils dilating in the moment. you understood.

"you won't lose me, simon." you reached your hand to run it through his hair, dirty blond strands easily passing through. you both stood there for a moment, taking comfort in the fact that this thing you two had was finally being addressed.

"i can't. after everythin', it's jus- not you too. can't lose you, dove." his masked hands cradled your face, glad your physical friendship boundaries were finally being crossed. you gave him a sad smile.

"i know you want captain. i asked 'round and there's other teams open. closer. was gonna tell you this afternoon but got interrupted." by you, choosing to believe he was like all the men before, who wanted to make you small so they felt big. by you, choosing to protect yourself first, not in the wrong but not optimistic either.

"ugh, you're the worst." fuck, had he gotten in wrong? this whole thing wasn't what he'd planned. the whole confession wasn't in the cards, and now he was paying for it. except-

except you were pulling him in for a hug, standing on your tippy toes so you could wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. his hands immediately rested on your waist, the feel of it so foreign and yet so right. this was the first time you'd ever embraced him like this, so open and emotional. he memorized the feel of you in his arms, just in case, always just in case, then let himself live in the moment. he dug his face into the crook of your neck, sniffing the scent of your contraband shampoo, the scent that chased him in his dreams and nightmares. his thumbs caressed your skin, drawing circles into your waist.

"yer it for me, you know? you see it now? but if you need to choose between me and captain, i get it." he waited for your answer with bated breath, squeezing you tighter in case you turned him down. in case it was his last chance.

you answered with a peck to the side of his head, making simon all warm and fuzzy inside. "you're mine too, idiot. i can still make captain without going to russia." finally, he relaxed. the hug had gone on for longer than necessary at this point, but he didn't want to let you go. slowly, you pulled back, making eye contact. "so when are you taking me out on a real date?"

--

this is for the girlies guys and pals who have always had to feel like they had to choose between a man and a career. with the right man, you deserve both! (i wouldn't know i'm just a hopeless romantic trapped in a college town but i'm trusting what the books say.)

[lxvvie]

mm does loser!simon fuck you differently when he's just got back from a deployment?

He's clingier than normal and it's fucking annoying. A little. If you hadn't had a shitty couple weeks that is.

In reality, what makes it annoying is that it's intimate and, dare I say it, romantic in a way you can't really imagine Simon being, and that pisses you off for some reason. Like all you want is your pussy ate and an orgasm or three, not... not this.

Not Simon being so... gentle with you. Well, as gentle as he could be. And then he has you in missionary, fucking you like both your lives depended on it (what the fuck happened while he was gone?). He's... he's clutching your hand so fucking tight as he fucks you through your nth orgasm, as he continues fucking you through his. He even made you look at him as you came and he's not stopping anytime soon and you don't know if you should be so pissed that he fucked you so good or elated that he fucked you so good but goddamn if you weren't gonna ghost his ass for the next two weeks afterward.

You couldn't wait to run out that door come the morning.

And sure enough, you refused to see or speak to him for the next couple of weeks, even though you really needed your cunt loved on.

Ugh. Got you feeling things, the fuckin' loser.

[iinterstellaarr]

“ugh spencer reid, i love you”

it isn’t exactly a lie, nor is it exactly the truth. spencer was an anomaly of a man, teetering between scarily smart and adorably dense that the sudden change gives you whiplash at least once a day.

it was a phrase that was somewhat casual to you now. something you’d throw to each member of the bureau like it was a casual hello or goodbye. although at some point, the bit had become less of… well just that, a bit.

it was still funny to see aaron roll his eyes and scold you for saying that for the one hundredth time, and it was still adorable to have garcia giggle and send it back your way everytime she saves your ass.

but it always seemed a bit different with spencer.

you’d said it again to him last night, although you’re not sure why considering he never says it back or even seems to acknowledge you said it at all. it was a particularly rough case for you, and he always seems to understand when you need a bit of support. you said it like it was some kind of punchline, or a thank you. maybe it was just comforting to have someone to say it too.

after a beat of silence, he coughs.

“i… uhm, love you too.”

his voice was meek and unsure if this was the right thing to say. he knew you said it often, and he knew it never really held the weight his mother always said it did, so no harm! right?

although for some reason, his uncertainty and the sort of raw embarrassment he had when he spoke made your stomach do a performance that could put simone biles to shame.

so now, here you sit at your measly desk, peering over your cup of now cold coffee trying to put together the pieces of why his answer had made the joke seem less funny.

maybe it was because he wasn’t the kind of person who said things without meaning them. he didn’t perform affection like other people. he didn’t toss out casual comfort like you did. if he told you your hair looked nice, it meant he loved you. if he brought you coffee, it meant he loved you. he never spoke the words but they were unanimously understood in his actions.

you tried to make sense of it. maybe it was because spencer didn’t love easily. not in the way the world defined it. he loved by showing up. so when he echoed your half-joke, it wasn’t funny anymore because you knew he meant it.

every syllable.

it felt like a moment you weren’t ready for but somehow had always been walking toward.

and now?

now you were stuck between pretending nothing happened and trying to understand why everything inside you felt different. like something had shifted on a molecular level. like maybe you’d been lying to yourself this whole time, calling it a joke so you wouldn’t have to admit it was real.

spencer walked past you just then, on his way to grab something from the break room. he gave you a small smile. familiar. gentle

“ need anything?” he asked.

you opened your mouth, intending to say no, but your heart betrayed you.

“yeah,” you spoke softly. “i need you to say that again sometime. like you meant it.”

he blinked.

you blinked.

silence.

“…say what again?”

and just like that, your stomach dropped.

you gave him a practiced smile, trying not to sound like you were crumbling beneath the weight of your own words.

“nothing. never mind!”

—————

he noticed you like he noticed most social ques.

quickly, but somehow always too late.

he’d had always been aware of you. never demanding attention and yet it was served to you and silver platter with a name tag engraved in gold.

you were easy to talk to. easier to trust.

so it made sense that he gravitated toward you. it was logical. predictable, even.

but then came the “i love you”

they started small. you’d toss them at him like they meant nothing. you’d always say them with a bright smile, mostly when he brought you the right files or remembered your favorite snack after a late night. at first, he thought it was just a quirk of yours. a friendly exaggeration.

but after a while, he started….

cataloging them.

it wasn’t on purpose! more like a habit he accidentally took up. he would remember every little infliction, the timing, tone, every word you spoke was like honey to his ears. it wasn’t like he was looking forward to hearing it, or like he would replay them each time in his head on slow nights when he couldn’t sleep.

so one night, he said it back.

sort of…?

“i…uhm, love you too.” he’d repeated, uncertain, testing the words in his mouth like a foreign language. you’d gone quiet just a beat too long. he could feel the silence stretching between you like a thread pulled tight.

you brushed it off. of course you did.

but something in him didn’t.

after that, he became hyperaware. he noticed how his heart sped up slightly when your name popped up on his phone. how he’d started picking up random facts or trivia just because he thought they’d make you smile and how the space beside him in the jet felt noticeably wrong when you weren’t in it.

there had to be an explanation. oxytocin. dopamine. human bonding behaviors under high stress environments. proximity induced infatuation. temporary emotional displacement.

but nothing excuses it. it shouldn’t make him want to fix his outfit in a reflective window before walking into a room because she’s in there, you should probably not look like you got dressed in the dark, spencer.

and it certainly doesn’t excuse why the thought of someone saying “i love you” to you the way he said it made his stomach twist.

the realization hit him late in the night.

he had never considered the way you said i love you that night. only the awkward stumbling of his words.

there was a gentleness. something raw in your words that made it painfully obvious to only him that it was different.

that’s why it felt different.

it was.

————

the bullpen was buzzing the way it always did on monday mornings. low voices, coffee cups clinking, the shuffle of files and footsteps and vague exhaustion.

spencer moved through it all like he usually did, head down, file in hand, a half-formed theory on the edge of his thoughts. he was halfway to his desk when he heard your laugh. not loud, not exaggerated, just natural.

he looked up before he could stop himself.

you were across the room, leaning slightly over garcias desk, telling a story with your hands like you always do. there was a small smile tugging at your lips, the kind that only came out when you weren’t thinking about it. you were wearing that sweater again. the one with sleeves you always pulled over your palms when you were focused, like you needed somewhere soft to hide your thoughts.

spencer stood still in the middle of the room.

he didn’t speak. didn’t blink. the file in his hand forgotten, the bustle of the office fading to a quiet hum beneath the sound of your voice and the way you glanced up, just for a second, like you felt his gaze.

your eyes met.

you smiled at him. soft and simple, like it cost you nothing, like how he’d imagine you smile at him waking up in the morning, two cups of coffee in hand for the both of you. and then you turned back to garcia. the moment passed.

but he was still standing there.

it felt strange, the way his chest tightened. not in a painful way. more like the air had shifted around him, and suddenly he was seeing everything too clearly.

she’s just talking to garcia.

she’s always like that. always smiling. always warm.

but no matter how many times he told himself that, he couldn’t shake the thought curling at the back of his mind

god, i think i’m in love with her.

it wasn’t a flash of lightning. it wasn’t cinematic. it was barely even a conscious thought. like it was there the entire time, just forgotten.

you weren’t doing anything extraordinary. you were just you.

and somehow, that was the part that floored him.

because now that the thought was there, now that it had a shape and a name, it refused to be unthought. every laugh, every glance, every quiet kindness you’d ever shown him suddenly reappeared in technicolor.

and he was just standing in the middle of it all like a man who had walked straight into his own feelings and hadn’t seen the sign.