#i know that man’s a tease and he would totally do something like that on purpose | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

emo-batboy · 10 months

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Battinson on SNL

Idk how popular Saturday Night Live is outside of the US so there will be some links for context. That said, as a New Jersey native, I think Battinson would totally watch the show. And since he's a celebrity...👀

To promote WE’s newest charity fund, Alfred signs Bruce up to be a guest host on SNL (à la this post) The announcement is made, and everyone’s like “oh this is going to be a disaster. That man can’t even hold eye contact or speak a full sentence without crying.”

But oh, that’s why it’s so funny.

Now, hear me out. Bruce’s strengths are displayed best when he’s himself. That’s why he’s so popular in Gotham. That’s why the internet calls him Relatable TM and a Disaster (Affectionate) and “Poor Little Meow Meow.” It’s his ✨ essence ✨

But he tends to get overwhelmed or self-conscious onstage, right? Because he can’t be Himself himself if he has time to overthink something. So after a few meetings with Bruce, the writers of SNL figure out the perfect way to keep Bruce from getting anxious.

They decide to load this episode with as many skits where Bruce plays different caricature-like versions of himself as possible. The objective? Make him break character and laugh so he doesn’t overthink. And if he breaks character, he’ll still technically be in character because he’s playing himself, you know? Genius.

So that’s how they go about structuring the show. During the few days they have to write, they decide to take everything about Bruce’s public image and either ramp it up to 11 or turn it on its head.

He speaks quietly? Turn it into a running gag. He dresses in all black? Make him emo. He tips well? Add that in too. He’s “depressed” and “sad?” Literally, all he does on screen is laugh and break character. What’s not to love?

Of course, Bruce also gets to decide what skits are in each episode as well. (Refer to this if you have no idea how SNL works.) He loves the idea, though, and he has a surprisingly dark sense of humor which bleeds into some of the sketches. They add in a few skits without him, and they’ve got their lineup.

It’s the wildest episode of the season. Here are the highlights:

OPENING MONOLOGUE

It’s the big night, everyone’s excited to see Bruce Wayne hosting a live sketch comedy show with no idea how it will turn out.

To begin his monologue, Bruce walks on, opens his mouth to start talking, and immediately two cast members appear as stagehands to set up six microphones in front of him. He is already struggling to keep himself together.

Bruce: “You may be wondering why I’m host- Cast Member: *adds one more tiny microphone to his chest* Bruce: “You may be wondering why I’m hosting tonight.”

It’s working. The audience loves it.

Halfway through, Kate McKinnon comes out in a dark cloak with a chalice. “Your sustenance, my lord.” *sees camera* “Oh. Sorry. Carry on.” And she shambles off. Bruce has to take a second before continuing.

Bruce knows when (most of) the jokes come. It’s literally on the cue cards, but he still falls into a fit of giggles.

There are a few more gags, including Lex Luthor peeking out from behind the band set-up, all teasing the show to come.

Overall, an amazing way to set the tone for the episode. Expectations have been set. Then the skits begin!

(Oh but before I forget: During every single live skit with Bruce, the writers have scheduled for one of the cast members to run in dressed as a stagehand and put an extra mic on him. They do not tell him when it will happen.)

SKIT #1

Between the monologue and the first skit, he has to do a really fast quick change, but to everyone’s surprise, Bruce is a natural. (Huh, wonder why.)

The skit is called Gotham PTA Meeting. We open in a meeting room full of stereotypical PTA moms setting down baked goods and gossiping. And apparently, there is a new PTA member attending today 👀

Right as the meeting starts, he enters. Bruce walks in wearing the most emo get-up imaginable. He’s got a Nirvana shirt, a comical amount of eyeliner, black skinny jeans, chain accessories, metal rings, AND a clip-in extension to give him fringe.

Someone immediately runs in and puts another mic on him.

PTA Mom: “Oh, Bruce! You made it! Did you bring a snack?” Bruce: “I brought lemon bars.” PTA Mom: “Why are they black?” Bruce: “They match my soul…they’re also vegan.”

He talks like a moody teenager. HE CONSTANTLY has to brush the fringe off to the side to read the cue cards. And because there’s so much eyeliner and he’s sweating a bit from the lights, it starts running everywhere.

PTA Mom: “Bruce, you’re a little quiet. What are your thoughts on increasing the school lunch budget?” Bruce: *eyeliner dripping down his chin* “I think it’s a great idea.”

SKIT #2

For a pre-filmed skit, they bring back the Chad character with Pete Davidson.

It’s 2 am, and Chad is working at a 24hr drug store in Gotham. He’s reading Twilight (the book is upside down) when the lights begin to flicker.

He turns around and tries the light switch, turns back around, and JUMPSCARE it’s Bruce dressed as Edward from Twilight.

Yes, he IS sparkly.

Bruce is awkwardly holding a bunch of items, all concerning. He plops down a few knives, several raw meats, Sudafed. Chad: “Oh hey.” Bruce: O_O “I’d like to check out please.” Chad: “Lit.”

Chad’s “No Fucks Given” energy and Bruce’s “Please Do Not Perceive Me” energy clash like titans. The whole skit centers around it.

Bruce: *sweating bullets* “Oh. You’re reading Twilight?” Chad: “Just the title.” Bruce: *throws the book through the window at lightning speed* “It’s not very good. You should probably read something else.” Chad: *shrugs* “Okay.”

Chad: “ID?” Bruce: “ID? For what?” Chad: “Sudafed.” Bruce: “Oh. I don’t really need that, actually.” Chad: “Already scanned it.” Bruce: “Haha. Of course.” *awkwardly produces a scroll from his pocket that says Bruce Wayne DOB: 1901* Chad: “Okay.”

Bruce checks out, Chad picks up a porno mag or something, and we see Bruce turn into a bat and fly off through the window behind him.

SKIT #3

The next skit they have is Celebrity Family Feud: Billionaires Edition. Again, Bruce plays himself, but he’s more of a background character. Instead, the skit makes fun of billionaires as a whole.

Bruce’s team consists of Kylie Jenner, Lex Luthor, and Oliver Queen. So just imagine three Lucille Bluths standing beside one another.

Bruce’s bit? He just keeps handing cash to Steve Harvey every time he breathes in his direction.

Host: "We got the richest man in the world: Bruce Wayne!" Bruce: *hands him a roll of cash* Host: "Oh, what’s this for?" Bruce: "It’s your tip. I always tip." Host: "Oh, Mr. Wayne, you don’t usually tip the show host. I’m also a millionaire myself." Lex Luthor: *snatches it* "Well, if you’re not going to use it, I will…for charity, of course." Host: "Uh huh, whatever helps you sleep at night."

Just a ton of fun quips, the usual.

At some point, Harvey says, “That’s batty.” Bruce: *ducks* “Where?!” Host: “Oh, I don’t mean Batman. He’s not here.” Bruce: “You don’t know that.”

This time, the mic bit is a bit different.

Host: “We asked 100 billionaires: How much does a loaf of bread cost? Top three answers are on the board.” Bruce: *hits buzzer* Host: Bruce, your answer is? Cast Member: *runs in with a megaphone and holds it in front of Bruce* Bruce: “TEN DOLLARS?”

Board dings! That was the #1 answer

Brucie Wayne for the win

SKIT #4

Next is a skit that dares to ask Gotham, “Why would anyone live here?”

The skit begins with someone opening a press conference for Wayne Enterprises. “And now presenting: Bruce Wayne!” Bruce walks in…

But it’s not him. Instead, it’s one of the cast members dressed in a black suit with horribly gelled brown hair.

Everyone in the audience is wondering where the actual Bruce is before another cast member runs onstage crying, “Help! Help! I’ve just been robbed! Somebody call Batman!”

A mini version of the bat-signal lights up…

We hear some generic hero music play…

And there he is: Bruce Wayne dressed in a horribly cheap Batman costume

(They got the cowl ALL wrong btw)

Bruce puts his hands on his hips in a weird superhero pose. Bruce: “I’m Batm-” Cast Member: *runs out to attach another mic to his costume* Bruce: “….I’m Batman!”

Cue all of the gags and digs against Batman. The fake Bruce faints then starts crying under a table. Someone calls Batman a furry. Bruce is barely keeping it together the whole time. Lord help him, but he asked for it. He approved the skit.

Bruce: “Looks like a job for my bat taser!” Cast Member: “Isn’t that just a taser with a bat on it?” Bruce: *whispers* “You shut your mouth.”

He saves the day, the police take the thief into custody, then Batman myStErioUsly disappears. Bruce: “Look over there!” *runs off* Cast Member: “Oh my gooood, how did he do that?”

CLOSING SEGMENT

Finally, they have the Weekend Update where Bruce comes on as himself for the final time.

Since they got his permission, the writers switch out some of Bruce’s jokes last minute. (Think Bill Hader’s Stefon which notoriously caused him to break character because the writers would mess with his cue cards.)

News Anchor: “Here to promote his newest humanitarian project: Bruce Wayne!” “Mr. Wayne, what a pleasure to see you today.” Bruce: “Thank you. This is probably the longest I’ve been out of the house.” News Anchor: “Since the Riddler catastrophe?” Bruce: “Since ever.”

News Anchor: “So Mr. Wayne! Before you make your announcement, any life updates?” Bruce: “Yes, actually. Just a few days ago, I adopted five- *starts losing it* five more children.” News Anchor: “Wow, really? So you have eight kids now.” Bruce: “Uh huh. *tears streaming down his face* One more orphan and I get the tenth one free.”

News Anchor: “So where can people find you online?” Bruce: “Well, I don’t have social media because I’m afraid of people, but sometimes I’m on Twitter.” News Anchor: “What about a phone call?” Bruce: “Oh no, phone calls- *giggle* phone calls give me fainting spells.”

It’s a great way of finishing the show, with the most genuine version of Bruce. Then, he gets to what’s really important!

News Anchor: “So if they can’t reach you on social media or on the phone, what else can our viewers do, Mr. Wayne?” Bruce: “They can donate to the Wayne Foundation’s newest charity called The Arts Initiative. It funds programs for the arts in underdeveloped school districts nationwide. I’ve already donated $30 million, and I’ve pledged to match every dollar donated within the next week.”

And that’s what he’s here for :) They share a link for where and how to donate. The anchors praise him for his charity, which he deflects because he can definitely afford this, and the 90-minute broadcast is over.

The camera pans away with the whole cast waving goodbye, and Bruce is seen keeling over with laughter.

Along with some of the other skits, these four specifically go viral. WE raises a fuck ton of money, and everyone loves Bruce.

THE END

LOVE YOU ALL!! Let me know what you think :D

#battinson #bruce wayne #batman #batman 2022 #the batman 2022 #the batman #battinson needs a hug #gotham #dc universe #dc #saturday night live #snl #soft bruce wayne #batdad #batfamily #gotham city #brucie wayne #only in gotham #give battinson a child 2k23

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latenightdaydreams · 1 month

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Facesitting with König (fem)

MDNI🔞

For more: Master list

>CW: fem/afab reader, facesitting, oral, chubby reader, minor breath play

1k Word Count

“Mein Liebling, please…” Königs voice was desperate.

You lingered above his body, your legs on either side of his head as he lays flat on the bed underneath you. His hands caressing your thick thighs as his cock twitched fully erect wanting just a little bit of stimulation.

“I’m nervous that I’ll crush you.” You say giggling but completely honest. Being on the chubbier side, you feel like you weight too much to do something like this.

König averts his gaze from your pussy that’s teasing him with its proximity to your eyes.

“You can’t be serious Schatz. I’ve carried fully grown men nearly 300lbs like they were nothing. You won’t hurt me.”

“Yeah, but I’m putting this weight on your face. What if I kill you?” Your tone playful.

“Then I die the happiest man alive,” A light chuckle leaves his lips. “Trust me Liebing. You won’t hurt me. Just relax and let me make you feel…good.” His hands began to slip up your thighs to your plump ass and he squeezes lightly. He turns his head to the side and begins to kiss the soft skin on your inner thighs.

You look down at him as he kisses you, a tingle running up your body from the sensation. You begin to nod your head.

“If its too much, tap out.”

König smirked and agreed, “Ja, ja, of course.”

You can see a twinkle in his eye as you agree. You decided to let go of your fears and lean forward and bring yourself closer to his mouth. You still hold your own weight up slightly, not feeling totally secure on placing your full body weight down.

“Nein Schatz, all of it.” König wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you all the way down on to him. Once he feels the full weight of you, he lets out a muffled groan. He takes in a deep breath allowing his nostrils to be filled with your sweet musk. His lips wrapped around your clit, sucking while flicking his tongue over it.

His head shaking back and forth slowly as he releases the suction from your clit and beginning to flap his tongue up and down over the small bud wildly. The taste of you in his mouth is all he could think of today. König not letting up the grip around your thighs, holding you in place just in case you tried to back off a little again.

Your body trembles over him, as you look down to see him lost between your thick thighs smooshing his face. You let out a melody of light moans as your eyes begin to flutter from the intense focus on your swollen sensitive clit.

“Kö, fuck…” You begin to rock your hips back and forth on his face instinctively as you feel a pressure begin to build up in your clit and radiating through your body. You lean forward and rest your hands against the headboard of the bed, trying to pull away from the overwhelming feeling.

König doesn’t let go, he knows you’re close to orgasm and he was going to make sure you got there. He relaxed his grip enough to let you grind on his face, your clit rubbing against his nose and his tongue back and forth. His erect cock leaking precum as his balls tighten from the want need to cum.

“I’m- I’m…” Your moans turn into panting as your hips move over his face, drowning König in your sweet pussy nectar. All of the fear of your weight goes out the window as you begin to squirt on his face.

König feels you gush all over his face as he lets out a deep groan. He keeps his mouth open, his tongue touching any part of your pussy he can get to as he drinks you in. Your taste is like an addictive drug. One of his hands lets go of your thighs and moves down to his neglected cock. His hand rubs the tip causing him to let out a soft muffled moan, his fist beginning to pump up and down rapidly.

“Too much!” You moan loudly as his tongue was not relenting. All of your senses heightened and getting no break; but you haven’t said the safe word, so he keeps going.

You squeeze your thighs around his head, hoping he would let up, he doesn’t. Since he only has one arm on you, you roll over trying to get off of him. König has his big muscular arm wrapped around you like a python though and he simply rolls over with his mouth still attached to your pussy.

König shakes his head back and forth before coming up and taking a few deep breaths. His lips, chin, and cheeks glisten from being covered in your cum. His pale blue eyes meet yours, giving you a hungry look before diving back down to your sopping wet pussy. Your hands instinctively go to his head and try to push him off of you, but it’s useless. He lays with his body at an angle as he continues to jerk himself off.

You begin to wrap your legs around his head, squeezing tightly as your body begins to tremble from the intense orgasm that is building up again. Fingers grasping the bedsheets as you begin to cry out in pleasure.

König lets out a primal sound as you squeeze your soft supple thighs around his head, holding him against your pussy. He doesn’t even care that he can’t get a breath in, his eyes fluttering as he moans lightly at the sensation of losing air, only being able to eat your sweet cunt. His toes begin to curl as he hears your orgasmic screams. His cock begins to pulsate as he ejaculates all over the bed and himself.

As your legs slowly loosen their grip and you lay there trying to recover from the intense orgasm, König sits up on his knees. His eyes looking at your face twisted in pleasure. A smirk comes across his lips.

“Sehen Sie, ich lebe noch,” he chuckles lightly moving his body to wrap himself around you.

#konig #konig x y/n #konig cod #konig x reader #könig #könig x reader #konig smut #könig smut #i need him #könig cod #könig call of duty #konig call of duty #cod konig #konig mw2 #könig mw2 #konig x chubby reader #könig x chubby reader #chubby reader

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springtyme · 19 days

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𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐀𝐢𝐧'𝐭 𝐍𝐨 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 ♡

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐈'𝐦 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐝 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Spencer Reid x f!reader || Series masterlist || Series playlist

Main masterlist || can also be read on ao3 || Next chapter

summary: After having worked for the BAU for two years, you have seen and experienced a lot, but after a series of murders of young married couples, you’re asked to do something that you never had thought you would have to do; going undercover, as an expecting, married couple, with Spencer Reid.

word count: 5.8k

warnings/tags: Eventual smut! (18+, mdni!) Undercover as a married couple. Pretend pregnancy. Language. Drinking. Angst and fluff. Slow burn. Mutual pining. Coworkers to lovers. Not set at a specific time, but definitely somewhere in the early seasons. Reader uses she/her pronouns. Mention of canon-typical violence.

The table is a bit sticky, and the music could be better, but the drinks are decent and you’re just so happy to finally be out with your friends after what feels like forever. Your job is demanding, and being an FBI agent in the Behavioral Analysis Unit means that your work-life balance is almost non-existent. But tonight, you don’t want to think about the gruesome crime scenes or the long hours spent profiling and investigating violent crimes, all you want to do is have a good time and catch up with your friends. And finally having an occasion to dress up and feel cute isn’t bad either.

Closing your glossed lips around the straw of your Strawberry Daiquiri, you take a long sip and let the sweet, icy drink cool your throat as you sit back in your chair, listening to the lively chatter of your friends. Michaela and Piper are going back and forth about some new movie that you haven’t had the time to watch yet, and you and Janelle, who is sitting across from you, are laughing at their antics as you listen to their debate with half an ear, but you focus shifts as Janelle gently nudge your shin under the table.

“That guy is totally checking you out,” Janelle says with a playful raise of her eyebrow, gesturing towards the bar with her eyes, as she takes a sip of her Mai Tai, while Michaela and Piper continue their discussion about whether the final plot twist of the movie was too predictable or an actual genius twist.

You can’t help but let out a tired giggle and roll your eyes as you follow Janelle’s gaze, glancing over to the bar and catch the eye of a man who is indeed looking in your direction, but you quickly turn back towards your friend again. “I thought we had decided to just focus on having a girls’ night out tonight, no boys allowed?” you say, giving her a knowing look. She shrugs her shoulders and smiles jestingly.

“You can still appreciate the view, even if you’re not looking to buy,” she teases, taking another sip of her drink. You shake your head, laughing at her antics, but you can’t help but look over in the direction of the guy at the bar again. He catches your eye and flashes you a charming smile. He is cute, sure, but not cute enough for you to want to do anything about it.

But to be fair, he could be the cutest guy in all of D. C. and you probably still wouldn’t do anything about it. You don’t really have the time or energy for dating right now and you are not really currently in the mood for meaningless sex with a stranger either.

Your job consumes so much of your life already, and you’re content with just focusing on your career, or at least that’s what you tell yourself. Sure, it would be nice to have someone to share your life with, but what you’ve learned over the last few years is that most guys don’t understand the demands and emotional toll of your job. They either can’t handle the long hours, and all the time you have to spend on cases, or the gruesome details of your work, or they simply can’t comprehend the darkness that you have to face on a daily basis. And so, you’ve built up walls to protect yourself, to shield yourself from potential heartbreak or disappointment.

“You sure it’s not you who he’s checking out?” you ask, trying to shift the focus of the conversation away from your lack of interest in dating. Janelle laughs and shakes her head.

“No, I think he’s definitely into you,” she says, nudging you playfully.

“Well, I’m not interested, so he is all yours, Nell,” you reply, taking another sip of your drink as you give her a playful wink. Janelle just laughs and shakes her head.

“Nah, I’m good. I’m just here to have a good time with my girlies,” she says, raising her glass in a toast, making Machaela and Piper forget their never-ending debate and cheerfully join in.

Just as you’re about to raise your glass and join in the toast, your phone buzzes in your purse, interrupting the moment. You reach into your bag and pull out your phone, seeing Hotch’s familiar number flash across the tiny screen.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” you say with a sigh, standing up from the table giving your friends an apologetic smile. Your friends nod understandingly, knowing that your job always comes first as you excuse yourself from the table and head to a quieter corner of the bar to take the call. You feel a wave of exhaustion wash over you, knowing that your night out with your friends is about to be cut short.

“Yeah?” you answer, putting the phone to your ear, not bothering with any formalities as you know that Hotch is going straight to the point when he calls you outside of office hours.

“Sorry to interrupt your Friday night, but we’ve got a new case, high priority,” Hotch’s voice comes through the line, his tone serious and professional, but you can also hear the tired edge in his voice. It can’t be easy being the Unit Chief and always having to be on call, but you respect him for his dedication to the job. “I’m afraid I need you and the team back at the office ASAP.”

“I’ll be there as soon as possible,” you say, already mentally preparing yourself to switch back into work mode.

“Great, thank you, agent,” Hotch says, and you can hear the gratitude in his voice before he hangs up. You can only imagine how shitty it must feel to have to call in your team on a Friday night only a few hours after everyone has left the office. But that’s the nature of the job, and you have accepted it a long time ago, even though it means sacrificing your personal life and plans at a moment’s notice.

With a deep breath you take a moment to collect yourself, trying to shake off the disappointment of having to leave your friends behind. As you head back to the table to break the news to your friends, you can’t help but feel a pang of guilt for having to leave them hanging. They all look up at you expectantly, sensing the change in your demeanor. “I’m sorry guys, I have to go. Work…” you trail off, your voice apologetic, you hate having to disappoint them.

Michaela and Piper exchange sympathetic looks, while Janelle just nods understandingly. “It’s okay, we understand,” Janelle says, giving you a reassuring smile.

“I’m sorry I have to cut the night short,” you say, feeling the weight of disappointment settling in your chest.

“Hey, your job’s important, we’ll catch up another time,” Michaela says, standing up to give you a supportive hug. “And we are really proud of you, just so you know,” she adds, giving you a reassuring smile as she pulls back from the hug.

Suddenly you almost feel like you could cry. You spend so much time burying your emotions and focusing on the job that it almost feels overwhelming to be reminded that you have people outside of work who love and care about you. “Thank you, Kay,” you say, smiling back at her. You hug the others and say your goodbyes, before you quickly gather your things and prepare to head out and find a cab.

· · · · ·

Spencer is abruptly pulled out of his slumber by the sound of his phone ringing. The book he had been reading sprawled open in his lap. The softness of the armchair and the long week of work finally caught up to him, and he must have dozed off. He blinks groggily as he fumbles to grab his phone. He squints at the screen, momentarily disoriented from being woken up so suddenly. Seeing it’s a call from Hotch, he quickly answers, his voice still thick with sleep.

“Hello?” Spencer mumbles, trying his hardest to sound awake and alert despite his groggy state.

“Reid, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but we have a new case, high priority. I need you and the others back at the office ASAP, we will have a briefing as soon as you’re all here,” Hotch’s voice comes through the line, terse and serious, but also tinged with exhaustion.

Spencer’s heart sinks at the news, knowing that his plans of spending a quiet Friday night at home, recovering after a hard work week is now dashed, but he quickly pushes the book aside, already mentally preparing himself to switch into work mode.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he replies, removing his glasses that he had swapped his contacts out for earlier in the evening. Rubbing his eyes and sitting up straight, the sense of urgency now kicking in.

“Thank you, Reid,” Hotch says before ending the call, leaving Spencer to gather his things and head out to Quantico without delay.

As he makes his way out of his apartment and towards his car, he can’t help but feel a sense of disappointment at having his night disrupted once again by work. He had really been looking forward to a quiet night in, and finally enjoy a break.

Spencer watches the city lights pass by in a blur as he begins to make his way out of D. C., the reality of his job sinking in once again. He knows that as a part of the BAU, his work is never truly done. The cases are always waiting, the criminals are always out there, and the demands of his job are always pressing. And while he loves what he does and finds fulfillment in helping to catch the most dangerous offenders, and having his mind challenged, there are days when he longs for a sense of normalcy, for a break from the darkness that seems to follow him everywhere he goes.

With a deep breath, he steels himself for the long night of driving and work ahead, knowing that he may not see his bed again for a while.

· · · · ·

As you arrive back to Quantico, you rush into the FBI building, quickly making it through the security check. The heels of your stilettos click loudly against the floor as you hastily make your way to the conference room. The short, tight dress that had made you feel so confident just a few hours ago now makes you feel exposed and vulnerable as you walk through the sterile hallways of the building.

You try to pull down the short hemline of your dress, as you push open the heavy door to the conference room, but it doesn’t change the fact that most of your thighs are on display and that your tits are almost spilling out of the low-cut neckline. It is so rare that you get the opportunity to dress up and feel sexy, so you might have gone a little overboard with your choice of outfit for a simple girls night, or at least that is how you feel now as you’re about to walk into a room full of your colleagues, who aren’t that used to see this side of you, and are about to hear about the details of a violent crime case.

As you step into the room, you see that Derek and Spencer are already sitting at the big round table, waiting for the rest of the team to show up, Hotch is probably in his office getting more details for the briefing before the entire team is here. They turn their heads in your direction as you enter, and you can feel their eyes lingering a moment longer than necessary, seemingly surprised to see you in such attire.

“Damn, princess, you clean up well,” Derek says with a smirk, giving you a once-over. “You had a hot date tonight or something?”

You roll your eyes at his comment, knowing that he always loves to tease you about your personal life. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Morgan,” you reply with a raised brown and a playful smile, taking a seat at the table and crossing your legs and adjusting your dress as you sit down.

“Of course, I would like to know, that’s why I asked,” Derek chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “You come in here looking like that, and you expect us not to ask questions? I just need to know, is he more handsome than me, should I be worried?” he teases, earning another playful eye roll from you.

“Can’t a girl just want to look good for a change, without it having to be for a man?” you shoot back.

“What do you mean, for a change? You always look good,” Derek counters with a charming smile, before he turns to Spencer, who has been awfully quiet this entire time. “Isn’t that right, pretty boy?”

Spencer looks up at Derek and then at you, a faint blush rising to his pale cheeks. His hair is slightly tousled and he is wearing his glasses, making him look even more adorable than usual. You don’t know if it is wrong of you to think of your colleague as adorable, he is a grown man and exceptionally capable of his job, you respect him a lot, but you just can’t help but find Spencer extremely endearing.

“You don’t have to answer that, Spence,” you quickly interject, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable. You know that Spencer can be a bit awkward when it comes to social interactions and you don’t want Derek’s teasing to make him feel even more self-conscious.

You and Spencer have become good friends over the two years that have passed since you joined the BAU team, you and him are the youngest agents in the unit. You have always admired Spencer’s brilliant mind and his ability to remember almost everything he reads as well as his sweet, quirky personality. You have a mutual respect for each other’s intelligence and dedication to the job. You have also noticed the way he sometimes gets lost in his thoughts or stumbles over his words when he’s nervous, and you have always tried to support him and make him feel comfortable in social situations.

But despite being friends and good colleagues, there’s also always been a slightly awkward tension between you and Spencer, at least on your end, it’s not like it’s there all the time, but you do feel it from time to time. You are not even sure where it comes from or why it’s there, but there’s something about Spencer that can make you feel slightly flustered and unsure of yourself, if you ever stop to think about it. It’s probably just because you admire him so much and don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of someone you respect so deeply.

“No, it’s okay,” Spencer says, his usual rambling tone coming through as he speaks. “You do look very nice, tonight. Wait, no, I mean, Morgan is right you always look nice, but you also look real nice tonight,” he stammers, stumbling over his words as he tries to explain himself.

You can’t help but smile at his adorable awkwardness, grateful that Derek’s teasing didn’t faze him too much. “Thank you, Spence,” you say, giving him a kind smile and reaching out to pat his arm reassuringly, hoping to ease his discomfort. “I appreciate it.”

“Oh, so when it is him you appreciate it, I see how it is,” Derek jokes, earning a playful shove from you.

“Shut up, Morgan, you know that I love you,” you say with a laugh, playfully rolling your eyes at him, which makes him laugh, but you don’t get to continue your banter as the rest of the team starts to filter in, Hotch enters the room with a stack of case files in hand, his usual stoic expression in place as he takes his seat at the head of the table to begin the briefing.

“Thank you all for coming with such short notice,” Hotch starts, his voice authoritative and commanding. “We have a new case that just came in and it’s classified as high priority. A series of brutal murders have been reported in Northern California. Local police have finally reached out to us for assistance after multiple cases after two new victims were found earlier in the day. They have all been double murders, with the assumption that the victims have been stalked for a while beforehand, and are then killed in a very specific and violent manner. All have been young married couples, all under thirty, and in all of the cases, the female victim has been between five and nine months pregnant.”

As Hotch continues to outline the details of the case, you can feel the weight of the seriousness of the situation settle in the room. You are usually able to compartmentalize your emotions and focus on the task at hand, but the thought of innocent lives being taken in such a violent manner always hits a nerve and you feel a chill run down your spine as Hotch describes the details of the case, the gravity of the situation sinking in. This is a disturbing and horrific case, one that hits close to home for you as a woman.

As Hotch finishes the briefing he turns to Spencer. “Reid, I would like to have a word with you in my office. The rest of you, start looking into the evidence and see if we can find any leads or patterns that may help us track down the unsub.”

You watch as Spencer nods in acknowledgment, it’s clear that he is a bit confused about being called into Hotch’s office alone, as he follows Hotch out of the room, leaving you and the rest of the team to start digging into the case files and evidence.

· · · · ·

“Please take a seat,” Hotch says as he gestures towards the chair in front of his desk, as Spencer follows him into his office. Spencer feels slightly anxious as he takes a seat, his eyes searching Hotch’s face for any clues as to why he’s been called into his office while Hotch takes his seat behind the desk. Hotch clears his throat before speaking, his tone serious and professional. “I have something to ask you to do, and it’s not a small thing,” Hotch begins, his eyes fixed on Spencer. “I need you to think carefully before you answer.”

Spencer can feel how his heart starts to race, his mind already trying to anticipate what Hotch is about to ask him. “What is it?” he asks, his voice steady despite his growing nerves. Hotch takes a moment to gather his thoughts before he speaks again.

“I’ve spoken with the local authorities in California, as well as our own expert and with the circumstances of the case and lack of leads, we have decided that the best way to proceed is to send in two undercover agents that fits the profile of the victims, and I want to ask you to be one of those agents.”

Spencer’s eyes widen in surprise, his mind racing with the implications of such a task. Going undercover in a case like this would be incredibly risky, not to mention emotionally taxing and it is not something he has much expertise in.

“I understand that this is a big ask, but you fit the profile of the victims and your ability to think on your feet and adapt in high-pressure situations makes you the best candidate for this job,” Hotch explains, his eyes searching Spencer’s face for any sign of hesitation.

Spencer takes a moment to process Hotch’s words. He can see the logic in Hotch’s reasoning with the specific details of the case and the lack of leads; it might be the best way to proceed, and Spencer knows that it is only done when absolutely necessary. “And you’re sure I’m the best agent for the job, I don’t have much experience with undercover work,” Spencer says, keeping his voice as steady as he can while feeling the uncertainty within himself.

“You’re more than capable, Reid. Your intelligence and quick thinking are your strongest assets, and we have full confidence in your abilities. I would never ask this of you if I was not fully convinced that you are fit for this job. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I also know that you have it in you to handle it,” Hotch reassures him, his tone firm and unwavering.

Spencer nods, taking a deep breath as he processes the weight of the task that has been given to him. This is a very serious assignment, one he knows is crucial to solving the case and bringing justice to the victims. “If you believe I can do it, then I’ll do it,” Spencer says finally, his voice resolute.

Hotch nods, a sense of relief crossing his features. “Thank you, Reid. This means a lot to the case, and I know you will do a great job,” he says, his voice showing his appreciation.

Spencer reciprocates the nod, feeling a surge of determination coursing through him. It’s a lot to take in, and it takes his usually so fast thinking mind a second to realize that he won’t be going undercover alone. “Who will be the other agent going undercover with me?” Spencer asks, wanting to know who he will be partnering with.

“I have someone in mind, but I want to make sure that she is on board before we move forward.”

“Is it, Y/L/N?” Spencer can’t help but ask, his mind already considering the possibilities of who he is going to work undercover with, and you are the person in the unit that would fit the profile of the victim the best. He really hopes it’s gonna be you, even though a part of him also doesn’t want you to be put in a potentially dangerous position. Spencer knows that your skills and intelligence would complement his own in such a high-stakes situation. And most importantly he just really likes being around you. You are always so kind to him and you never fail to make him feel included and supported.

Hotch nods. “Yes, she fits the profile as well and I believe that she has the expertise for this kind of operation. I will speak with her and see if she is willing to take on this assignment. I trust that the two of you will work well together on this case and you seem to get along well, and that’ll be important in this case. I’ll have to be sure that the agents I’m sending in can deliver a believable performance.”

And that is when it really dawns on Spencer, the two of you are not just going into a dangerous situation together, you will also have to pretend to be a couple, a young married couple expecting a child. He had been so caught up in the seriousness of the assignment and the potential risks involved that he hadn’t even considered that part of going undercover with you.

The thought of pretending to be a married couple with you, even if it’s just for the sake of the operation, sends a wave of feelings and thoughts through him, too many at once for him to fully process. Sure, it’s all part of the job, but the idea of being so close to you and having to maintain that facade is a challenge he’s not sure he’s fully prepared for. The idea of playing the role of your husband, even if it’s just for work, is both exhilarating and absolutely terrifying at the same time.

But as Spencer looks into Hotch’s eyes, he sees the trust and confidence that his boss has in him, and he knows that he can’t back down now. He has a job to do, and he will do it to the best of his abilities, alongside you.

· · · · ·

After Hotch and Spencer left the conference room, you and the other agents moved back to your desks to go through the evidence and case files. You are now wrapped in the cardigan that usually hangs from the back of your desk chair and you feel a little more office appropriate.

“Damn, this is a tough one,” Derek says, shaking his head as he scans through the crime scene photos. “The level of violence in these murders is just brutal.”

You nod in agreement as you flip through your own stack of evidence, looking up from the file in your hand as Spencer and Hotch emerge from Hotch’s office, Spencer walking down the stairs to join the team, but Hotch stays back, his expression serious and you get a little surprised when he addresses you.

“Can I have a word with you in my office?” Hotch says, his tone somber before he steps back into his office.

You can’t help but feel a sense of urgency as you put down the file in your hand and get up from your desk. You pass Spencer at the foot of the stairs, his eyes flicking down to meet yours. “Everything okay?” you ask, a hint of concern in your voice. Spencer nods, but there is something in his eyes you can’t quite read.

“Yeah, uh… yeah, Hotch will explain,” he says, his voice slightly tense, and a slight crease is formed between his brows but the look in his brown eyes are soft as they meet yours.

“Okay,” you whisper, giving him a small smile, before you quickly step up the stairs, or at least as quickly as you can in your five inch heels. You feel a small knot of anxiety starting to form in your stomach as you step into the office, wondering what this is about.

The door clicks shut behind you, and you feel the weight of Hotch’s gaze on you as you stand in front of his desk. “Please, sit down,” Hotch says, his tone grave as he gestures towards the chair in front of him. You take a seat, feeling a sense of unease settling in your stomach.

Hotch’s expression is unreadable as he looks at you, and for a moment, you can’t help but wonder what all of this is about.

“I have a very big thing to ask from you, agent, and I want you to know that I’m asking this of you because I trust you can handle it. It’s a request, but the choice is fully up to you,” Hotch starts, his voice steady but filled with seriousness. “Due to the lack of leads and the nature of these murders, we have come to the decision to send in two undercover agents who fit the profile of the victims to try and draw out the unsub, and I would like to ask you to be one of those agents. Agent Reid has already agreed to take on the assignment, the two of you match the victim profiles, and I truly believe that with your skills and expertise, you would be the perfect choice for this task.”

You lean back in your chair as you let Hotch’s words sink in. So this is why Hotch wanted to talk with Spencer. Going undercover on a case as gruesome and high stakes as this is not something to take lightly, but with the circumstances of the case and the lack of current leads you can see the logic in it. It’s a risky move, but you know that sometimes risky moves are necessary in order to catch the unsub and bring justice to the victims.

“I know that this is a very big thing for me to ask of you, and I want you to know that I fully understand if you have any reservations or concerns,” Hotch continues, his tone earnest. “But I also believe that you have what it takes to handle this assignment, and your dedication to the job is unparalleled. I wouldn’t ask this of you if I wasn’t convinced that you could handle it.”

“I understand the gravity of this assignment, Hotch,” you say, your voice calm and steady, wanting to reassure him that you are aware of the importance of the task at hand. “I am aware of the risks involved, and if you think I’m the right person for the job, then I’ll do it.”

Hotch nods, his features softening. “Thank you, agent. I know this is a lot to ask, but I have full confidence in your abilities and I truly believe that you and Reid will be able to handle this assignment with the utmost professionalism.”

You nod in acknowledgment, a surge of determination coursing through you by your decision. You also can’t help but feel a sense of relief wash over you at the fact that Spencer will be the person going undercover with you. You trust him implicitly and that makes you feel a sense of ease.

“I will arrange for a briefing with you and Agent Reid to go over the details of the assignment. You’ll also have to go through a training course while we set up a location for the undercover operation, and you will of course be given your undercover identities. I’ll inform the rest of the team about the assignment,” Hotch’s words are firm and decisive, and you can see the weight of responsibility in his expression. “But you better get home and get some rest. You have a long and intense process ahead of you, agent,” he adds, a softer tone creeping into his voice.

“Copy that,” you reply as you stand up from your chair. Soon you’re back down in the bullpen, standing at your desk as you gather your belongings and start to make your way out of the office. Just as you’re about to close your purse, you catch Spencer’s eye from where he’s standing over at his own desk, and as you give him a tired smile, which he mirrors, you swing your purse over your shoulder and walk over to his desk.

“So, Hotch asked you?” Spencer says as you approach him, his brown eyes meeting yours. You nod, the weight of the assignment settling in as you face each other.

“Yeah, he did. Looks like we’re partners in this one,” you reply, smiling at him once again.

Spencer nods, a small smile of his own tugging at the corners of his lips. You both stand there for a short moment, the weight of the assignment hanging heavily between you, before Spencer breaks the silence. “Do you need me to walk you to your car? I know the parking lot is just outside and that we have security, but still.”

You feel a wave of gratitude wash over you for his offer, and you can see the concern in his eyes as he looks at you, but that is also when you remember that you didn’t drive here yourself.

“Thank you, that’s really sweet of you,” you say, feeling touched by his concern. “But I actually didn’t drive here tonight, I took a cab.”

“You took a cab all the way from D. C.?!”

You laugh at his surprised expression. “Yeah, I was out, I didn’t have my car and I also had had a few drinks.”

“You should have called me, I could have picked you up and we could have driven together,” he says, his tone filled with genuine concern. You can’t help but smile at his thoughtfulness.

“I appreciate that, Spence. Maybe next time,” you say, giving him a grateful smile. You know that Spencer is always willing to go above and beyond to help his friends and colleagues, and you can’t help but feel extra lucky to have him as a partner in this assignment.

“Well, you have a ride back home now,” he says, offering you a gentle smile.

“That’s nice,” you reply, with a bright smile, feeling very grateful for his offer. You had expected to get a lift from one of your colleagues when you drove out here, it would be difficult, if not impossible, to get hold of a cab this late out here, but it feels really nice that you didn’t even have to ask for one.

“Of course,” Spencer replies, his smile growing wider. Soon the two of you are stepping out of the FBI building and are met with the brisk night air, your feet are hurting and the cool air makes goosebumps rise on your skin. But almost before you get to register it, Spencer has removed his jacket and offers it to you. “You must be cold,” he says, giving you a kind look. You try to protest, but he insists, draping the jacket over your shoulders.

“Thanks,” you mumble, not feeling like protesting further as soon as the warm feeling of the jacket engulfs you.

Once you reach his car, he opens the door for you and you slide into the passenger seat, feeling a sense of gratitude for his kindness. “You want this back?” you ask, removing the jacket from your shoulder. You don’t really feel ready to give up the warm garment, but you also don’t want to assume that he offered it for more than just the walk to the car.

Spencer shakes his head as he settles into the driver’s seat and you watch him start the engine. “No, you just keep it.” You smile happily as you toe off your shoes and curl up in the seat draping the jacket over your bare legs, feeling like it is enveloping you in a comfortable cocoon of warmth and safety as Spencer starts the car and begins the drive back towards D. C.

The landscape passes by in a blur outside the window as the two of you drive in comfortable silence, the both of you seemingly getting lost in your own thoughts for a little while. The weight of the assignment in front of you settles heavily between you.

“I’m really grateful that you’re going to be my partner on this assignment,” Spencer breaks the silence eventually, his voice soft but filled with sincerity.

“Me too,” you reply, turning to look at him, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Another comfortable stretch of silence fills the car as you continue on your way back to the city. Despite trying to fight it, your eyes start to feel immensely heavy. Fatigue from a long day and the weight of the impending assignment finally catching up to you, and with the gentle lull of the car you never really stood a chance and soon you are starting to doze off, slowly sliding into the sweet embrace of sleep as you sink deeper into the soft car seat.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated :) let me know if you want to be tagged in the next chapter ♡ edit: it would especially be nice if you reblog when you ask to be added to the tag list ♡

Taglist: @luivisa @babyspiderling @reidsdaisies @eddioto @sadroses98 @lovelyygirl8

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spiceofvy · 3 months

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Hihi! I have a request. Can I have a skz headcannon when their dick doesn’t fit. Ty!

SKZ - When their dick doesn't fit

cws: gender neutral reader, nsfw, bottom reader, dirty talk, mentions of reader potentially getting hurt, foreplay, fingering, aftercare, corruption kink (Chan), mentioned overstimulation (Minho), praise (Changbin, Hyunjin), slight degradation (Seungmin)

Chan: So cocky. Like really fucking cocky. His corruption kink going brrr. "Oh it doesn't fit? Poor baby never had something big like this inside huh?" Of course he would never try to force anything, knowing that it could hurt you. But man does it give you a confidence boost. Maybe jerks off on your body to "spare you". Cocky boy.

Minho: "Doesn't fit? Well guess I need to loosen your muscles then." And then overstimulates you until you are loose enough for him. Carefully prepping you with his fingers stretching you slowly. Definitely has a bit of a power trip while doing so. So so much aftercare afterwards. Talks you through everything he does and checks in with you the whole time.

Changbin: Also cocky, not as much as Chan but still a good bit, tries to show it less though. Prepares you softly for him, whispering some sweet praise into your ear. Asks you twice if you really feel ready. Very slow, very sweet. "Look how good you take me. Feeling so good on my dick, squeezing me just like that." Very confident in his game.

Hyunjin: Honestly? This is like his number one fear for him. He is so scared of hurting you, that he always goes extra slow. Prepping you twice. Praises you so much during it, "you are doing so well for me my love. So perfect, so beautiful for me." But he is also cool with the two of you getting each other off in different ways when there really should be problems with penetration.

Han: "Wait, are you serious?" Was 100% sure that that is just some porn cliche. Could come on the spot when you tell him. After he understands the issue he gets super super worried about you being hurt, so he definitely is extra careful. But in between his worries, he would totally ask you to record an audio of you saying how big his dick is.

Felix: Oh no! He is so worried about hurting you. After the first "failed" attempt he would prefer to have sex without penetration. it would just make him more comfortable and would ease his mind a lot. Should you try again he would ask you to be on top so you can control the speed and angle that he is entering you in. "It's okay love, go slow. We have all the time you need."

Seungmin: Another cocky motherfucker. Teases you about it every time you have sex. "Are you sure you're trying hard enough? Does my spoiled darling really believe that it's that easy to take my dick?" Lots of aftercare afterward. Praising you and massaging your body all over. Making sure that he didn't push too much or made you uncomfortable.

Jeongin: With big dick comes big responsibility. And he has no idea what to do with it. But is very willing to learn. So he googles, gets scared about hurting you, and masters the art of fingering. And becomes like really fucking good, no need for his dick. But after some time he still wants to try, so he is preparing you with his amazing fingers, and then goes really slow on you. "Are you okay? Do you want me to go slower?"

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kneelingshadowsalome · 11 months

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Hi !!!! I’m sorry if this is bothering you and if so you can totally ignore this but…

I’ve been thinking about how Ghost would react to reader gradually pulling away from him because she gained some weight and is self conscious and ashamed and doesn’t want to be seen by him, so sculpted and beautiful… but of course he’s feeling low because he wants to be close to reader and so he asks and she finally explains it to him (ready to be broken up with…)…. And I’d love to read your take on it !

You can make it female or gender neauteal I don’t really care !!!! Thank you anyway ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Wildflowers Grow in Ruins

(Ghost x F!Reader, word count: 5 k)

Summary: Reader tries to break up with Ghost because she thinks she's not good enough for him.

Tags/warnings: FLUFF, soft sensual smut 🔞, hurt/comfort, light angst, Jealous!Ghost, Soft!Ghost, self-loathing & self-body shaming. Good girl talk/praise kink. Reader is female and wears a skirt for smut plot purposes.

A/N: I hope you like this take & I hope you don't mind that I tweaked this request just a little bit!) Also: JFC I'm wordy. The "I need to explain why they're fucking!" meme comes to mind every time I write anything.

Wars are exhausting.

You know fighting for something can empower people. Fighting against something usually just depletes your strength.

But waging a war against yourself…

Now that is pure hell.

It started somewhere in your youth. You thought adulthood would take it away; that reason and tolerance would take it away. You were supposed to feel more confident in yourself, more positive about life. And for a moment, you thought you might just succeed.

But standing beside a god of war is no easy feat.

He came into your life like a walking myth, swept you away, and you only laughed as you went. It was fun at first. He was supposed to be your savior, the solution to all your problems. If a man like him found you attractive, perhaps it was the world that was crooked and not you.

But then you got soft: you started to gain pounds. Meanwhile, he became even more magnificent. It reminded you that it had all been just a dream.

Perhaps it was his eyes that seemed to worship you, that seemed to look past your every flaw. Perhaps it was the hands which never seemed to get enough of your skin. Whatever it was, it was too much. And at the same time, never enough.

The day has finally come to let him go.

You think yourself heroic. It's like it should be: it's only right that you finally release him to someone better than you.

But inside, the noble feelings twist and turn and curl around your throat and stuff your stomach full of ice - the kind they fill glasses of mojito with. The drink you'll always remember him by because he teased you about it: that you wanted an ice-cold summer drink even in the middle of winter.

Now you feel cold all over, and wish he could warm you like he used to.

You would forsake all the mojitos of the world to keep him. You would renounce the whole drink if it came to that; if you could make him yours.

But he's not yours. He never was: he was just on loan to give you a taste of what it would be like to have a man like him. That taste should be more than enough for a lifetime. You should feel grateful.

So why is it so hard to let go?

The key on the front door turns, and your heart shoots up your throat: you're supposed to settle this thing once and for all. You're supposed to let go of him today.

And still, when he arrives, you can't find the courage to say what you need to say. The words are stuck in your throat, but tears are not. He should already be a memory, but you find yourself suffocating on memories as you cry. You've learned to do even that in silence, like the rest of your suffering.

You take a few deep breaths, wipe the tears away, shove the rest of them down your throat – you save them for later, later, when he's far away and you can finally curl up and cry your heart out without no one there to look. Fucking later.

Good.

Great.

You put your heaviest armor on. It protects weak and soft flesh because you can't meet him all bare. Then you step forward with the knowledge that you’re a thoroughly wounded guerrilla while he is a seasoned, well-rested veteran. The fight is nowhere near even, but it's ok. You are not meant to be in the presence of immortals anyway.

The man looks at you warily as you finally enter the room. That haunted look has followed you for some time now as the distance between you has grown.

It should be easy, what is about to come, because he hasn't touched you in weeks. You haven't wanted him to.

Or you have… But it's not easy to have his hands on you when your body is only a vessel you hate. How can you even think about pleasure when all you think about is how it must feel for him to caress something as awful as this?

The man is a vision, and he settles for a peasant. It should be against the law, but it's not… so you figured a some time ago that you should simply find the strength and grace to do ii: do what's right.

"I need to talk to you."

Your voice comes out neutral, and it makes you more confident, if only for a second or two.

He lifts his chin: already knows what's coming, because he's not stupid. You've been shutting down for weeks, and he hasn't done much about it. But when the thunder rolls in, he doesn't flee. Probably because he fears nothing.

"Go ahead then," he says, equally as neutral, equally as icy. Got his armor on, too.

This should be easy…

It's really not, so you decide to rip the band-aid off in one yank.

"I think we should go separate ways."

The following inhale from across the room pierces the air like a bullet. You can hear his breaths gain depth and speed all the way to where you're standing.

"Ok."

It doesn't look or sound like he's ok. If anything, he looks like he's trying to process the sudden storm.

"Ok…" His eyes are on the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. Then he starts to pace around the little kitchenette you've shared for almost six months, just before you started gaining weight.

He stops to look out the window, then turns to you, and the hurt in his stare comes through like a thousand needles pushing through skin.

"Is it because of my work?"

"No."

"What is it then?"

Your breaths are getting out of hand, too. He looks like a lost, tired creature in an abandoned animal shelter for a moment, and it breaks your heart. It squeezes the organ inside a flaming fist until it shatters like it has never been nothing more than ice.

Your lip starts to tremble, and he notices, as per usual. Nothing escapes this man, except perhaps the true reason for your anguish.

"Hey. Hey."

He comes to you and hugs you like it's the only thing that matters: to comfort you when he sees you're about to cry, no matter how crushed he's feeling himself. The sudden warmth, the intimacy after weeks and weeks of pain is knee-buckling.

"Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"

His voice is soft, so soft… The tears rush forth now; there's no way of stopping them. What the hell can you even say to a question like that? That you wish he could grab a magic wand and turn you into someone gorgeous, the woman he deserves?

His embrace feels good, kind of. It also feels smothering because your self-hate makes you want to disappear from existence entirely. His eyes are equal to physical touch, a probing scan that sees every little flaw, not to talk about massive faults, the ones which make you feel like you're simply disgusting. His touch only reminds you how you must feel like to him: soft, too soft, weak.

And he must hate weakness.

"What do you need me to do? I'll do anything," he tries with a parched throat, then swallows.

It's fucking horrible. This isn't going at all like you had imagined.

"It's not about you," you struggle out of his hold, and he lets you go with reluctance. You have to basically fight your way out of a bone and steel prison. Why would he even want to hold a pathetic woman who's on the brink of ugly crying on top of everything?

"What do you mean?"

He's slightly breathless – and restless as fuck. He's usually so calm; nothing can get to him, nothing can rattle the tower of raw strength. Now you've not only pierced some invisible armor; you can hear pieces of it falling on the floor.

"Have you found someone else?"

What the…

"No." You put as much weight on that word as you possibly can. To imagine that he thinks you are cheating… Fucking cheating on someone like him. "Jesus Christ…"

He takes a deep breath and sighs deeply, sighs out relief, perhaps. Then his razor-sharp stare fixes on you again, and you can see the fear turning into something akin to concern. You suspect you have to tell him the truth, otherwise he will dig it out of you.

"I'm just…"

Jesus, this is just humiliating.

"I'm just not your type."

"What the hell are you talking about," he mutters, the impending fury giving way to momentary surprise.

He gets intense sometimes. This time, the ferocity is born of barely concealed distress. He's broad and magnificent, even in despair. He’s just so fucking fine… The perfect man, someone you had never even imagined yourself with. Pulled down to the world of puny mortals, evidently stressing about losing one.

Losing you.

"If you have someone new, you can just bloody well tell me."

"It's not that. You don't understand–"

"Try me."

"I just…" A tear escapes down your face as you finally break for him. "I'm fat. Okay? And ugly. And–"

"Stop right there."

The look on his face is just… It's priceless, you suppose.

"Bloody fucking hell…"

He looks at the floor, then runs his fingers through the short cut hair on top of his head. You've yanked those blonde strands more times than you can count, nearly every time he's been between your legs, and you miss it – you long for it, like fallen angels long for heaven.

And if there was a time this man was rendered speechless, you would say you were witnessing that moment right now. His brows knit together, then he looks up at you again with blaring disbelief.

"You're serious?"

"Yes."

"This is the reason you wanna break up?"

Ugh.

"Yes?"

His voice grows rougher with every question until it resembles thunder, and you suspect this is the commanding tone his soldiers are used to hearing.

But you're not: it's gravelly, harsh, and betrays the feeling of having been insulted. You feel even more devastated with yourself – it appears you can do nothing right.

"Where has this… idea even come to your head?"

"I don't know."

"And you never thought to ask my opinion?"

"Would you please stop yelling," you whisper and blink back some putrid tears. His mouth is snapped shut, his head pulls back just a little as he realizes what he's done.

"Sorry," he says with a half-whisper, and you catch the strain in his throat. You've never seen him cry, but now his voice is suddenly thin and frail. "I'm sorry."

He takes a step, then another, places fingertips on the counter as if to take the faintest support.

"Can I touch you?"

You don't really want him to do that, but you feel pity for the man. He's trying to find a way through this mess, and you want to help him.

"Yes," you whisper, and he immediately comes and takes you in his arms again. Hot tears disappear into his shirt, and you sniff a few times. He feels so good, so safe, even when you're about to lose him. His hold tightens around you, and the kitchen is silent; the whole world is silent. You don't know if you're being put to a grave or if you're in a deaf womb, waiting to be reborn.

"Now I don't know who's said this shite to you but ugly is the last fucking thing I'd call you," he declares above you. As if it was some bully whose fault it is that you were this way, a bully he could deal with with his fists or a gun. If only things were that easy…

"Have I said or done something? To make you feel this way?"

Then the blade is turned against himself. The man desperately searches for a culprit so he can deal with them.

"No," is the only thing you can say because it's true: he has never done a thing to make you feel like you weren't good enough; quite the contrary. But then again, he doesn't have to. It's enough that he exists and resembles a god.

"Then why do you think you're not my type?"

"Because you're so perfect," you hear yourself wail, no, cry into that shirt that smells of sweet safety and familiar musk – his scent, another thing you have missed like it's the only way to heaven.

"That for sure ain't true."

"But it is."

He seems to have the utmost difficulty in grasping what the issue here is. You can almost hear the wheels turning in his head with a rusty, laborious creak.

"Can't believe you wanna break up because of this," he finally says. You've chipped his pride, the ego that lives off of pleasing the ones he loves: the few chosen ones who he wants to give his whole life to.

"To me, you're perfect," he then says, and you simply… You stop breathing. "You're like… my dream woman. Ever thought about that?"

It can't be true, even if you vehemently, desperately want it to be. You reach out to his words like they're precious food after years of famine. Like they're sun and spring rain after being buried in the cold, dark soil whole winter.

"No…?"

"Never occurred to you that I might find you fucking beautiful?"

"Stop," you whisper, because it's too much to take in. He sounds so serious, so sincere.

"No, I don't think I will."

He pulls back a little and cups your face. Brushes away a tear, looks at you with so much love that it physically hurts; you feel like it's a lance that slowly drives through your heart.

"How about I kiss every part I love about you?"

You let out a soft little whimper. Fuck, that you want him to…

It would also be uncomfortable as hell. To try and let him love you and your body, which you have grown to loathe.

"It's gonna take all night, though. Wanna be as thorough as possible."

"Simon–"

"Love. I want you. Thought I'd made it pretty clear, but apparently I haven't. If you only knew how much–"

He sighs deeply. The man is frustrated with his shortcomings, thinks that this is all his fault. You cry a tear or two just for the sake of how absurd it all is.

"I don't want you to go. I fucking love you. Everything about you."

For the second time this afternoon, your lower lip starts to tremble as if this was some stupid, romantic movie. He can be so soft when he wants to, more romantic than the soft-spoken gentlemen in Jane Austen's novels. It doesn't even require any effort: underneath the cynical surface, there's fiery emotion, so powerful and raw that it almost bleeds out of him. Fuck… Does he even know what he's doing to you?

"I love you too," you whisper back, and the warmth that starts to bloom in his eyes is an entire sun on its own. It's hope, and you believe him, almost believe him.

"Then I'd say it's a bloody bad idea to break up."

You chuckle while few more tears push through to the surface.

"Simon…" You sigh and look back up at him, your armor falling to the floor too. "I feel like a wreck."

You allow him to see the pain, all of it. His breath is sharp as it hits him, but he still doesn't waver.

"Then let me help you."

The arms around you gain more strength, and you're crushed against a chest made of power. He tries to turn shit to gold, and threatens to succeed. You allow yourself to soften in his hold. How good it feels to be supported – no, loved.

"You don't even let me touch you anymore."

It's a filed complaint, but also heart-rending, soul-wrenching longing. You have evaded him for weeks now – hell, this shit began months ago and has escalated gradually, stealthily, until the moments together were a rarity, the space between you was full of frost; and not the crispy, happy summer drink kind.

"I thought you'd found someone else. Could've found out if that was the case in minutes, but honestly, I didn't wanna know."

Oh my God…

Has he lived with a growing suspicion and dread all these months?

That would explain why he has avoided you too…

He has allowed you to go to your supposed lover, has given you space to be alone and without too much attention. The man has shielded himself from pain.

Jesus fucking Christ.

"I'm so sorry," you say with a strained little breath. "I swear it's nothing like that. I just… I feel like a mess."

"Never seen such a gorgeous mess."

He speaks on your skin, the kiss on your forehead feels like an absolution.

Then you notice it's not only his words which try to assure you. He's growing harder by the minute against your stomach, just from a simple hug. Just from being pressed against you like this, after weeks of dry, bitter longing.

"Miss your taste," he murmurs to your skin, his voice like sand wrapped in burning velvet. "The sounds you make when you want it hard."

Oh God–

"Miss your smile when we go to shower after."

"Hmh…"

"Don't wanna live without that smile."

You don't have to.

God, you don't have to…

"How about we make a deal," he draws fingers down your chin, coaxing you to look up at him. His eyes are stripped from the cold distance that greeted you just moments ago: now they are filled with warmth that spreads to your chest and belly and bones. You drink him in like summertide.

"You come to me every time you feel bad and I'll make you feel good. Alright?"

"...Ok."

He tilts his head a little to the side, not entirely satisfied with your shy little answer.

"Come on. Make me believe it."

"It's a deal," you say with more grit to it, even if you're nearly crying again, this time from relief.

"That's my girl."

Oh fuck…

He knows exactly what strings to pull, the good girl talk being one of the things that instantly makes your legs feel like jelly.

And why does he always have to use that voice when he calls you a good girl or his girl, that sultry smoke that makes you want to swoon until he catches you and carries you to bed?

The man seems to be a mind reader as well, because he sweeps you off your feet and does exactly that: carries you to your bed which has mainly seen silent tears and painful sleep last months.

"Poor thing doesn't even know how lovely she is."

He sounds amused in the face of your darkness: sees it in full and still doesn't fear at all. He's ready to battle your demons for you, and you feel like shaking: from his touch and that voice, from the stress and loneliness that starts to release as he lays you down on the bed.

He looks so different from the man that has haunted this place for the past months, the complete opposite of the reserved soldier retreating into the shadows.

He moves to kiss you, and it's been – what? Weeks since your last kiss? And even that was only a quick peck, nothing like this… Wet, and desperate; a devouring. It makes you clench around nothingness, and you finally surrender.

No one can fake such fervor.

You try to accept it: accept the fact that even if you hate yourself, he does not. For some reason, he adores you. His breaths hit your face hot and urgent, and he can't keep his hands to himself anymore. They wander over your waist and hips, they even risk to steal a feel of your breasts, and then he groans in your mouth.

"I've missed you. Fuck, I've missed you..."

You taste notes of burning leaves; tobacco, his only weakness. You fantasize on the thought that you might be another weakness, too.

"Remember when I fucked you in my office?"

"I've missed you too," you utter softly in between the kisses that threaten to turn into a sloppy mess. "So much..."

He smiles at that, and it makes you weak, even when lying down like this.

"Yeah…?"

"You were so loud I had to put a hand over your mouth."

His voice is thick as he laughs a short chuckle. Your inner walls clench again at the sound, you throb among the warm syrup surrounding you.

"Never seen you so wet. Almost dripped all over my gear."

"It's that stupid mask you wear," you hear yourself breathe like you've just been underwater. Feel yourself throb some more, feel a burning sensation in the nether areas from the scorched desert turning wet again. You want him so much that it actually hurts down there.

"Knew you'd like it. That's why I kept it on."

If this man keeps talking, your underwear is going to be utterly ruined. And of course he does; of course he continues to pour more love in your ear.

"Everyone looked at you like you were a queen," he grunts in your ear, sounding almost… pissed.

"Don't be ridiculous," you try to form sensible words. It's only a faint breath, really, but he huffs at your modesty.

"You don't have eyes in the back of your head, love."

Wow… He is a bit pissed.

Had they checked your ass out when you visited him?

It was the first and, what you thought, the last time you got to visit him at his workplace… but you never would have guessed the reason for him not asking you to visit again would be jealousy.

"Don't worry. I put those fuckers in their place after you left."

Whoa.

Ok…

First, he had fucked you senseless in his office – a highly inappropriate move for a man in his position – then got jealous because some soldiers had checked you out as you left with his cum practically dripping from your cunt.

You put yourself in his shoes for a moment: he's had to live with thoughts of you running to some other man's arms when he's not home, and then watch you waltz around his workplace after making what was supposed to be the last effort to make him love you… When he has loved and adored you this whole time, has watched the sway of your ass with the rest of those home-deprived, horny soldiers, thinking you had fallen out of love and were on your way to go see some other guy.

Had he invited you there to try and win you back, too? By showing himself to you in all his puffed up, masculine glory? A desperate man in a skull mask, hoping to get love from you…

There's so many misunderstandings; they rip your throat. A sob escapes, and he stops his caress.

"Love… Tell me to stop if you–"

"No. No, I don't want you to stop."

Your request comes out with such demand that he hesitates only a second or two. Then he moves on top of you and tugs your skirt up. You don't even have time to realize what is happening before he has worked himself out of his pants.

He's hard and heavy between your legs, and your eyes go wide as you realize he's not going to bother to take your briefs off. He just slides a hand under the skirt and draws the fabric aside, and the fat tip of him is pushed in the middle almost clumsily. It's hot, and slips down to your opening with ease.

Oh f–

"Been jerking off to you nearly every night at the base," he says just before he pushes himself in.

"Uh–...."

Your thighs spread wide as he fills you slowly, inch after inch. The sound that leaves him is starved: a dry, painful sigh. He's been waiting for this for god knows how long, and you're just as hungry to take him in. He seems endless, the way he finally works himself fully inside, spreading you even wider as the thickening base of his cock reaches its end.

"Thought you were getting railed by someone else while I only get to fuck my hand."

"Oh god…"

There's really nothing else to say as his balls press against you, heavy and taut. He's not going to last long.

"Yeah. Imagine that," he admits, breathless like you.

You look at him with what must be the most helpless stare of longing in your eyes. Then he moves, and you want to grip him to keep him inside. The first thrusts are divine, they're pure heaven, and your head sinks deep into the pillow as you try to get enough air, try to not scream from pleasure already. Somehow, all you are able to utter is a desperate little whisper.

"Simon–"

His cock is good enough to bring tears to your eyes. You're starving too, you're pulling him in with fierce hunger, and he groans, then nearly falls forward, his weight pressing against you, swallowing you, until you feel like you're an idiot for thinking that you're too big. The thickness of his chest rubs against you as he makes love to you with passion that echoes the first times you did this.

"Just wanna adore you, love." He's panting desperate somewhere above you. A god and a man, both furious and gentle. "I wanna adore you. Just like this."

You answer him with what must be those sounds he told you about, the sounds you make when you want it hard.

You want him to fuck you, to wreck you after weeks of loneliness and hate. To love you until you break into a million pieces.

"Simon," you whisper. "...Love me."

He halts, huffs in your neck. It's almost a sob. There's so much emotion and desperation in the air that it could be scooped up and sold in the streets.

"Always," he rasps in your ear, then moves to kiss you again. "Always."

The promise echoes around you, it coats your lips as he loves you with all he has. It's been so long, and he feels so good that you nails dig into his shirt, his shoulder, you try to hold onto him even though he's the wave that rocks you.

"You feel that?" He goes deep; he's out of breath and desperate, even more desperate than you. "That's love. You feel it, yeah?"

"Yes," you sob in his shoulder, tears trying to escape your waterline as you're going dumb from the pure sensation, the sensuality of it all.

"That's it, love. That's a good girl," he turns to your neck and gruffs in your ear as you whimper and moan. "Always such a good girl."

Shit…

"I, I'm gonna…"

Your legs wrap around his middle, your muscles twitch and your hands reach and grab – they claw and yank and tug everything they can: his back, shoulders, shirt, something sturdy to keep you from drowning in a glorious orgasm.

He laughs in your neck and continues to grind you through your climax even when you're shattering, sighing, moaning, writhing under him. He just laughs, the man who never laughs: from witnessing you respond to him calling you a good girl.

Fucking bastard…

Lovable, infuriating bastard who knows you to your core.

You're an overstimulated heap by the time he comes as well, not long after you, but long enough to make you feel like you're only a tender bunch of nerves. Your legs have fallen to the side, he has open access to take what he needs: you, your love, all of it.

His whole middle goes tense as he cums, he groans and swears somewhere deep into your neck, rolls his hips over and over again like it's a must that his balls press against you with every thrust that shoot his load.

Then he falls slack, nearly collapses on top of you, reminding you of what it feels like to be small under a giant like him. You're throbbing together, you're full and fulfilled, and he is still lodged deep inside you, panting and broken in a sweat.

"Jesus Christ…"

He sounds dazed.

Relieved.

"Should've done this weeks ago."

You laugh at seeing him so done – a man in love, torn by jealous yearning, finally taking what's his. You stroke his neck, his back – it's so good to have him finally there… So close, with no barriers in between.

"I should've talked to you weeks ago..."

"Yeah. You should have."

"Are you going to punish me?" You giggle a little – the flirt is light and frees your heart further from its recent jail. He moves to look at you with all the tenderness there is. It's too much... His love is too much. But you won't run from it anymore.

"Nah. Think I'm gonna spoil you some more."

He spoils you right away with a kiss. You surrender to his treatment with happiness: happy tears, even.

The medicine to your anguish has been the exact opposite to what you had first tried, what you had originally thought. The true remedy for your sickness is mercy. Perhaps some spoiling…

And love.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley smut #simon riley fluff #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost fluff #soft simon riley #simon riley imagine #ghost x you #simon riley x you #fluff and smut #call of duty

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simplyreveries · 4 months

Text

when they're pining; dorm leaders!

riddle rosehearts

becomes an absolute sucker and hates it but loves it at the same time. like he's wondering why he's doing all these things and going out of his way for your approval he'll be frustrated with himself but once he sees you smiling the slightest at him, he's a fool and forgets what he was ever upset about in the first place.

you get the best treatment whenever you're at his dorm, heartslabyul. the dormmates hate seeing it, the only perks they get is that riddle will be somewhat lenient with them whenever you're around. his attention will usually be strictly focused on you anyway.

whenever he catches you walking to school or just around campus, he'll try to always find some sort of opportunity to stick around you. He doesn't even actively plan on how it just happens and ends up finding something to do with you. He loves making small attempts to tidy your uniform, so he can graze your shoulder something. he'll always scold you and claim he's helping you be more presentable and proper.

trey and cater 100% know about his little (big) infatuation with you and think its sweet. with cater he hates because he's always teasing riddle in front of you and making oh-so obvious attempts at getting you two together whereas trey is more subtle about it.

whenever he has a class with you, he tries to impress you with his knowledge and intelligence. He feels so proud and smug whenever he answers a difficult question with ease. But he just looks like a total nerd.

he reads books upon books of love and romance, trying to figure out what would charm and woo you. but he ends up only making himself a flushed embarrassed mess while reading nevertheless he continues.

leona kingscholar

sigh

this guy... would be way too stubborn to admit to himself that he's caught feelings for you. At the same time, I think he's so not used to anything romantic that he doesn't even fully realize he does. Like sure he thinks you're annoying as hell and tell you not to bother him but if you actually do end up leaving him alone, he'll be like?? tf?

he prompts to just silently listening to you as you talk or observe what you're doing. it may seem like he's not paying attention, his eyes are usually closed or he's looking down inspecting the chess board as you two play but trust me he really is. Like actually remembers everything. a little frightening.

lowkey lurks around you a lot of the time, also no one really want to come around you when he's right there and he's perfectly content with that since leonas such a little bastard when it comes to jealousy.

ruggie asks you a lot to come to magishift practice so that there's a high chance that leona will actually participate if he finds out you'll be there.

he enjoys it when you show interest in his homelands. though he resents his brother and struggles with his royal family-- the culture and history are something he's very keen on and will share if you ask.

azul ashengrotto

this man's attempt at pulling you are so bad its funny. He thinks he's mr smooth know it all but he's a total mess. he keeps a good facade ill give him that but he's dying inside around you because he doesn't want to look bad. it's upsetting but his own insecurities really do make it hard for him when it comes to his feelings.

he really doesn't know what to do when he feels so intensely about someone at first, he would just prompt to doing what he always does by trying to find some way to get you into a contract... despite knowing at this point you know way better and give him this confused deadpanned look.

He didn't really want the twins particularly knowing how he feels but they could tell right away and think it's the funniest thing ever as he turns into a mess around you. azul did make a mistake of asking jade and floyd to try getting more information on you subtly but that ended up backfiring awfully when floyd went up to you saying stuff like "shrimpy~ whatcha doing after school today? azul wanted to know." he never fails to out azul EVERY time and thinks its so funny he'll be like "what? i did what you asked."

whenever hes alone in his office or something writing stuff he accidentally writes your name all the time. he also would write letters to you-- ones he'd never send and would die if someone read but its a way of getting out his thoughts and feelings. he becomes all smiley and sighing blissfully as he does. he really thinks about you all the time. he could be doing a scummy deal with some poor heartslabyul student and be smiling and thinking about what kind of necklace would look the prettiest on you.

growing up in the sea his whole life, human-land courting and navigating romance out of the ocean is difficult as he sometimes accidently may revert to his own kinds ways. though he does make sure to do his own personal research on what to do.

kalim al-asim

everyone including yourself knows just how much he's in love with you. he has zero qualms expressing it to you the moment he realizes that he does. kalim literally talks about you all the time, im sure jamil is positively tired of it by now. hes always like "oh! (name) said something so funny earlier-" or "that reminds me of when (name)...." you constantly live in his brain. jamil could be trying to help him study and do his schoolwork and he's laying on his stomach,,, head in hands,, kicking his legs and talking about you.

gives you so much... he wants to give you so many gifts and spoil you abundantly all the time and gets confused when you tell him that you don't really need most of them. he really cant help it he swears.

invites you to so many of his parties and feasts. he also finds any excuse to throw you one, like genuinely you could tell him that you passed a test by like 2 points and he'll immediately think that this is something thats needed to be celebrated right away.

of course, he takes you out on his magic carpet for rides all the time, it's a little nerve-wracking for the first couple of times but you get used to it and besides though he is energetic you can still feel relaxed enough around him because of how sweet and caring he is. he always tells you hes got you and means it!!

vil schoenheit

vil adores putting makeup or skincare on you obviously. he finds it so endearingly intimate, it's very calming too considering how soft he is, and you get free access to the best brands. he always smiles softly, and you may here faint humming from him from time to time as he does.

like riddle, he does make sure to smooth or fix your uniform for you whenever you're out at school, you could be talking to him, and he'll just adjust your ribbon for you and be like okay go on. honestly, it may be hard not to get nervous around him when even doing something as simple as having a conversation, the way he intently looks at you and slightly tilts his head in amusement. you have his attention always.

invites you to stay at pomefiore a lot, stay for some tea at least but that can turn into a long time since he intends to make it that way to be around you longer.

would actually be so flattered and would love it if you went out of your way to watch any sort of media he's been in. he pays attention to characters you liked the most out of him, just maybe so he could figure out your type more.

idia shroud

im sorry but he just reminds me of this audio

i feel like he lowkey stalks your socials because hes too awkward to talk to you. he definitely has some fake account though because he learned it the hard way when he liked an old photo of yours by accident and didn't leave his room for almost 3 days

during the beginning stages of his feelings for you at least, whenever he talked to you it's a quick mumble of something and he leaves, leaving you like ??? ortho comes up to you later and tells you what he said on his brother's behalf.

ortho is a big wingman for Idia, he's so supportive of you two it's so sweet. you genuinely bring out a not so gloomy side in his big brother and he loves you for that. he has to try less to convince him to stay in class! what if he misses a chance to look at you for five seconds in the hallway?

when does end up getting a little more comfortable around you, he does get very smug and even pretty overconfident if you were to compliment his tech skills, if you ever need something fixed or even specifically designed and made for you, he'd do it in a heartbeat. he loves it when you watch him do it too in curiosity, he feels so cool and smart, he just prays you don't see his hands shaking.

when you give him the slightest praise or validation, he'll be thinking about that for DAYS. he'll have this cheeky grin on his face too as he thinks about it.

malleus draconia

You're perfect to him and as soon as he mentions your name in the diasomnia dorm you better be prepared to be invited by Lilia all the time dorm as he sets you and malleus on totally-not obvious dates planned with him. But he really just enjoys your time together when walking outside at night, he enjoys sharing with you facts about nightly creatures and watching you as you look in awe.

malleus adores showing off a little with his magic, is it too hot? don't like all the heat?? boom he'll make it rain. make some pretty flowers bloom out of nowhere? easy. he does it literally all the time and finds your reactions amusing. you had to stop him though when he got caught up and almost did large thorns when he was talking about briar valley history.

wants to give you so many jewels and adorn you with so many necklaces and rings and such, it's a problem haha. malleus loves nothing more than seeing you wear any of them despite your claims of not needing them, he insists.

he never fails to refer to you most of the time as "child of man" barely even your own name. I mean you gave him a nickname so he may as well return it.

#twst x reader #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus x reader #leona x reader #azul x reader #kalim x reader #riddle x reader #vil x reader #idia x reader #disney twst #twst headcanons #twst imagines

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charliemwrites · 5 months

Text

Part 5 (it’s getting out of control) of Charmed Slasher Simon.

Part 4 is here. (Master list coming soon)

(Slight warning for a coworker being a bit of a pushy creep but Simon handles it)

“Riiiiileyyyy.”

Ah, that’s your naughty voice. It means he’s going to want to do awful, terrible things to you out of pure endearment for your cheek.

He turns, arches an eyebrow as you nearly skip up to him. Your hair is shorter.

“New haircut?” he asks as if his fingers aren’t twitching to bury in it and pull your head back.

“Yup! Thought about dyeing it orange, but decided it would clash with my flat.”

He snorts, gives in to the urge to curl a strand around his finger, watches it bounce back into place. You don’t seem to mind, sticking your cute little tongue out at him. (If you’re not careful, he’s going to put you on your knees and have you wrap it around his cock right there.)

“Sensible choice,” he replies, “yellow is more your color.”

You giggle, aren’t bothered by his flat, almost inflectionless tone. “You think?”

“Highlighter yellow. Or maybe banana.”

“Hey, I like bananas!”

He smirks. “Oh yeah? Big ones?”

You shove at him, face going hot. He doesn’t move an inch, not that you were trying hard. Touchy little thing. You remind him of those little birds that flutter around lions, picking and pecking right under their noses, amusing themselves with death.

“Don’t be icky, Riley.”

“Icky.”

“Gross nasty.”

“We’re name calling now?”

“It’s not name calling if it’s true.”

He clicks his tongue, ushers you into the building.

“There a reason for the new hair?” he asks, eyeing it. It’s pretty, don’t get him wrong. But he didn’t know you were getting your hair cut today.

“Fancy office party tonight,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. “My stylist just managed to get me in, but now I’ve gotta rush to get ready.”

“Now who said you could go out?”

“What are you gonna do, stop me?” you laugh, clearly thinking he’s teasing. He’s not. If you looked at his face, you’d know it. But you’re busy fussing with your keys, trying to unlock your door.

“I might.”

“Oh, you stop,” you huff, shaking your head. “It’s not even movie night!”

He’s been coming over once a week to watch a movie and drink with you. One of you picks the movie, the other picks the takeaway. He always chooses a horror movie, likes how your eyes water when you get truly scared. You refuse to watch slashers (haven’t told ‘Riley’ why) but you’ll indulge paranormal ones.

It’s not movie night - those are on Saturdays. This is Friday.

“What if I just kidnap you?” he asks. “Keep you in all weekend?”

You hum as if in thought, glancing at him over your shoulder. “Could I go back to work on Monday?”

“Have to see how I’m feeling on Sunday.”

You giggle. “A tempting offer, but you’ll have to settle for kidnapping me just for Saturday.”

“I don’t think you understand how kidnapping works.”

“I’d be a terrible hostage,” you say. He arches an eyebrow, inviting you to continue. “I have to pee when I’m nervous, I’d be talking their ear off - and! I cry like, so much.”

Oh he knows. He thinks of tears running down your pretty face when he cums.

“Some kidnappers like the crying. Theyre sadists.”

You scrunch your face. “But it’s like… gross crying. Total mess. And I make dying seal noises.”

No, you don’t, not in his experience with you at least. But he’s not going to explain that to you.

“Didn’t you have something to get ready for?” he asks because he’s violently wrestling the urge to make good on his threat.

“Fuck!” You glance at your watch, brows scrunching. “If I’m late, I’m blaming you, Riley Simmons.”

“Oh no.”

You stick your tongue out at him one last time and disappear behind your door.

—

He hears you come back at 11:30, has been waiting up. Pauses when he hears two sets of footsteps, a man’s voice talking to you. A wave of bloodlust nearly drowns his better sense.

You brought someone home from a work event? Did you lie to him and go on a date?

“Well, thanks for walking me to my door, Brandon.”

“Was happy to. Don’t want anyone snatching you up off the street now, do we?” An annoying laugh. Yours sounding a little flat and strained joining him.

“Oh, hey, mind if I come in?” Brandon asks. So casually, as if the yes is expected.

Simon’s hands ball into tight fists.

“Ah, it’s pretty late…”

“Well, that’s what Saturday is for, right?”

Oh. That little roach. Simon’s going to hang him by his own guts.

“I have plans tomorrow, actually.”

Good girl.

“That’s alright,” Brandon persists. “Just one drink. Least you can do since I went out of my way, right?”

“I mean, you didn’t have to, I would have been fine.”

There’s some genuine annoyance in your voice this time. Simon’s proud.

“Nah, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you go home after having drinks?” Brandon chuckles.

“I didn’t have that many - and anyway I’m here now, so…”

“And so am I. At least a little something for my troubles?”

And Simon hears just the slightest, faintest ruffle of clothes.

That’s enough.

Simon yanks his door open and steps out. You’re nearly pancaked to your own door, head snapping to him with relief.

“Riley!”

Brandon takes a step back, expression stormy. Simon almost laughs. Little prick is barely taller than you, has done hard work maybe twice in his life. His hands look softer than yours. And he’s wearing a sweater vest.

“Did we wake you up?” you ask.

Simon saunters down the hall towards you. The closer he gets, the more nervous Brandon gets. But you seem to relax a bit more with each step, even shift towards him.

Very good girl.

“Was already up.” He doesn’t look away from Brandon, radiating menace.

You hum in understanding - know Simon keeps late hours. Brandon clears his still-intact throat and you jolt a bit, expression wilting.

“Oh, um. Riley this is my coworker. Brandon, this is Riley, my neighbor.”

“How do you do?” Brandon replies stiffly.

Simon’s not playing along.

“You try to push her again, someone will be pushing you in a wheelchair the rest of your life. Understand?”

Brandon sputters while your eyes go adorably wide, expression caught between horror and gratitude. Like you don’t know if you should be condoning his threats.

“I beg your pardon?!”

“Not yet, but you will if I see you here again, yeah?”

Brandon’s face drains of blood. You press your lips together.

“Now get the fuck out. I’ve got her from here.”

Brandon, worm that he is, scurries away with a hasty “see you Monday”. You don’t reply, too busy blinking up at Simon with parted lips.

He chucks you gently under the chin, eyes narrowing in amusement.

“Off to bed. I’m kidnapping you tomorrow.”

You audibly swallow, then nod.

“Thank you.”

“Good manners.”

#thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #slasher ghost #charmed ghost #final girl reader

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zhongrin · 1 year

Text

“no, i’m not jealous.”

— he is, most definitely, jealous.

◇ characters ◇ zhongli (ft. platonic!childe), al haitham, ayato, cyno

◇ tags ◇ fluff, crack, (character) is so totally not jealous, okay? okay.

◇ a/n ◇ i wrote this at like 2am don’t @/ me-

bad summary of content utc: 1) rip childe. 2) legends say you can foretell your future by the shape of al haitham's pecs. 3) ayato vs taroumarou; who wins? the result might surprise you. 4) cyno just wants some cuddles someone save him.

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

zhongli, jealous? ridiculous.

zhongli is unyielding and self-assured. he was a revered archon, for celestia’s sake; he knows he’s wanted, and even now as a mortal he’s not foreign to the longing looks, stuttered words, and the blushes that rise to his fellow mortals’ cheeks whenever he speaks to them.

and you - you want him just as much, if not more; yet you’re different than the others in the way that you’ve successfully managed to carve a perfect little home in his heart and chose to stay there, much to his delight.

you’ve promised him your heart and the entirety of your life. he’s promised you happiness and his eternal love. you’ve been bound by the most sacred contract of all, the proofs of your vows to each other clearly wrapped onto your ring fingers.

so really, what would such petty, shallow emotion like jealousy serve?

“wow, you’re really good with your hands!”

“i’m not sure if being able to use chopsticks is a good measurement of one’s proficiency with their hands, but... thanks?”

“isn’t it harder to-” childe pauses to speak when you offer him a bite of sweet-and-sour pork and rice, gratefully takes the food, and hums in appreciation before continuing his words, “-feed others with a chops-”

“chew and swallow first; you’ll choke.”

the harbinger obediently obeys, but not before chirping a playful “okay mom/dad!” with his mouth full. you sigh and turn towards your abnormally silent lover, finding him barely picking at his own food.

“li? why aren’t you eating?”

“hm? i was just… thinking.”

“thinking,” you repeat with a fond roll of your eyes and a teasing grin on your lips, “when are you not? well, i’m sure you haven’t forgotten how to use chopsticks, so i don’t need to feed you, right?”

your husband’s lips part, as if he wanted to say something, but right at the same moment, you notice childe trying to pick up his rice, failing miserably with his horrible chopsticks control. as if on autopilot, you used your utensils to pick up the grains from his bowl into his mouth.

zhongli’s words fizzle on his tongue. the way you fuss over the brunette fuels the rumbling growls of the slumbering dragon which has been sleeping for eons, slowly baring its fangs inside his chest. gloved fingers wrap around his teacup a tad too tight, but alas, you fail to notice your brooding husband's silent fury.

he knows it’s just your instinct, to care for others and to cater to other people’s happiness. it’s one of the traits he adores from you. if anything, it looks more like a parent-child(e) relationship rather than that of lovers - besides, no personage living in liyue would think of you as the snezhnayan's significant other. that, he is confident of.

but do you really have to hand-feed a grown-up man - a fatui harbinger who almost leveled your whole nation onto the seabed at that - who was most definitely capable of feeding himself, and with your chopsticks nonetheless- wait.

before you can bring the two sticks anywhere near the plates containing childe’s food, your husband's hand gently pushes your chopsticks away. upon the questioning arch of your eyebrows, he opts for a patient and calm-sounding tone, “darling, please. eat. you haven’t touched your food for far too long.”

he then replaced your set of utensils with his own; the movement so smooth and natural you didn’t even notice, before turning to childe and scooping the extra spicy vegetable stir fry towards the brunette.

childe’s blue eyes widen in half shock and half embarrassment, and you nearly choke on your food at the comical sight.

“um-”

“eat.”

“a-ah, miss xiangling, can i have a spoo-”

“eat.”

no, he most definitely isn’t jealous.

“-who’s my prettiest boy? yes you are!”

“… what in teyvat are you doing?”

you blink innocently at your boyfriend, who had just woken up judging from the way his coat is still missing from his person, and momentarily your eyes flit downwards to appreciate the way his muscles look in his tight black bodysuit.

hmmm. ah, yes. you can see it from the way his abs look today. it is going to be a good day.

“hey,” a condescending snap of his fingers right in front of your face, and you glare at the smug expression on al haitham's face, “eyes up here.”

“i wasn’t looking at your pecs.”

“i never said anything like that.”

“not your manboobs either.”

“for the hundredth time, i do not have manboobs. and for the second time, i never said nor implied anything even remotely close to that.”

“well, i would like to inform you that i was not.”

al haitham gives you a knowing smirk and you huff in embarrassment, choosing to ignore him by looking away and refocusing on the tiny sprout (the actual plant, not that little adorable sprout on the top of his head), smiling and going back to the higher, loving pitch you used previously.

“i’m sorry baby, ignore mr. narcissist over there. now. you’re growing up so well! i can’t wait to see you grow taller and see the beautiful blooms you make! i just know my little pogchamp will-”

“what in lord kusanali’s name are you doing?”

“shut your damn mo- ahem!” you sigh and throw a pointed look at the scribe, “i am conducting a research, mind you. kindly fu- i mean- kindly ignore me and go prepare for your day.”

“enlighten me, then. what kind of research involves baby-talking to a plant?”

you roll your eyes and turn to address him properly, “ugh, fine, if you’re soooo curious, i’ll tell you. so, i read a research journal that testified something along the line of ‘speaking positive words, such as encouragements and praises to a plant, will aid its growth and make them bloom faster’. i’m trying to test that theory. now - this is veveh. i am going to tell him he’s a good, beautiful boy every day and praise him and sing for him. that one,” you point towards the plant at the far opposite side of the room near the windows, “is hawky. i’m going to tell him he’s a bast- the opposite of what veveh is. and we have [nickname] in our bathroom, which will be the control group. i’m going to give them all an equal amount of sunlight and water, and i have a journal and a kamera to regularly record the state of the plants. i plan to monitor them at least three times a day, and-”

“and who named these stupid plants?”

you gasp, scandalized, and swiftly move to cover veveh as if you’re covering a child’s ears from harmful words. which, in this case, the image isn’t far from the truth in your eyes.

“hey!! what did i say?! watch your words!! and it was kaveh’s idea!”

“of course it was,” the scholar sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “are you not my significant other? surely you’re smart enough to notice the implications behind the names and the assignments of the roles. why would you agree to make the plant named after me the specific sample that would have to suffer from derogatory words?”

“…”

“…… wait, haitham, are you jealous?”

al haitham blinks and looks at you as if you’ve told him that you’ve replaced him as the akademiya’s scribe and he’s been exiled from the akademiya because his performance is unsatisfactory.

“i never said anything like that.”

“awww, would you like me to tell you you’re a good boy too? want me to tell you how pretty and lovely you are? how you’re doing suuuuch a good job at work? oh, sweetums-”

“i will be leaving now, you’re creeping me out.”

you giggle uncontrollably and lean closer to the tiny plant, snickering and lowering your voice into a whisper as you watch your beloved running away in embarrassment finally leaving you to your own devices, “hey, veveh. your dad is adorable, isn’t he?”

. . . ⚘ ⚘ ⚘

veveh ends up flourishing and its first flower bloomed way ahead of the two, therefore concluding your research on a high note. however, the morning after you submit your first draft of your thesis, you find the plant missing.

instead, in its place is hawky. you also find your boyfriend sitting right beside it, reading his advanced quantum theories book outloud.

yes, your boyfriend is truly very adorable indeed.

ayato loves dogs, he really does.

he also does not condone animal abuse, and that principle is currently the only thread that’s preventing him from pushing the animal away from your lap. your lap, which should have been his pillow. his much-needed, much-deserved, comfiest pillow on teyvat that could make him fall asleep in minutes and is the only reason he would skip work.

“oh, darling, i thought you were busy?” you ask in surprise upon seeing his form standing by the door.

“i needed a break, i was getting a little stressed,” he says, walking towards your side to sit on the cushion, hoping you’ll catch on to what he’s implying with both his words and actions.

your eyes are shining as you regard him, and his heart jumps-

“good job, i’m happy you’re not overworking yourself, love.”

“... why, thank you.”

you nod and glance down as taroumaru twitches and whines in his sleep, crooning softly at the adorable sight of the animal’s twitching legs.

“i wonder what he’s dreaming about,” you giggle softly.

ayato doesn’t understand how you can make him feel as if he’s falling in love with you all over again, yet at the same time, you make him want to punch the nearest wall in frustration.

with a tired sigh, he flops his head onto your shoulder it should have been your lap darn it and he nuzzles into the fabric of your kimono like a cat that’s seeking attention. the sweet soft laugh escapes your lips once more and he waits.

….

.... your hands are still petting the dog.

this is ridiculous, he thinks. the mutt is asleep; surely you would turn your attention to your poor fiancé, right? surely you wouldn’t be so heartless as to ignore him when he’s seeking you out like this? surely you would pity his overworked self and grant him some comfort even just a little-

“you really don’t have any meetings?”

“…. no, i don’t,” he hums casually and adds an exaggerated yawn.

“i think you need a nap, ayato.”

one of your hands finally rests upon his cheek and caresses his skin lovingly. a content little smile stretches his lips, but it disappears when your touch retreats all too soon for his liking.

maybe he should consider having a ‘no pets allowed in kamisato estate’ rule.

the door suddenly slides open to reveal thoma, who took one good look at the two of you and being the ever so polite man that he is, immediately splutters an apology for interrupting what seemed to be an intimate, relaxing moment between lovers.

the yashiro commissioner seizes the chance.

“it's fine, thoma. you’re here to take taroumaru on a walk, yes?”

at the keyword, the canine’s ears flick and his beady eyes open.

“huh? no, i just-”

“wonderful! why don’t you take him on a long walk, i’d say he’s just itching for some exercise after napping for so long.”

“eh? um-” thoma freezes at the cold smile on the young master’s face and forces a laugh at your inquiring gaze, “-y-yeah! waka is completely right! c’mon boy, it’s time for your walk!”

with a happy bark, the dog leaps out from your lap and bounds towards the housekeeper, who gave the two of you a sheepish nod before sliding the door shut.

ayato hums in satisfaction and reclaims his throne. without him even needing to ask, your fingers settle onto his blue locks, blunt nails scratching his scalp. you bend down to place a loving peck on his forehead, your scent envelopes his senses, and he melts.

ah, the taste of victory is always sweet.

“just one more game!”

“but love-”

“just one more game, please please please please!”

cyno sighs, “you said the same thing three rounds ago.”

i’m tired, i want to cuddle you now, the general mahamatra tries to telepathically communicate right into your brain by staring at you with his soft and downturned vermillion eyes. alas, you are too focused on refining your tcg deck and testing it against the man and the legend himself.

“i swear this time it’ll really be the last!!”

being a rather new player that you are, you’re still clumsy in your actions and strategies, but he can sense you improving with every match you lost. the way you’re so passionate and fully throw yourself into the things you’re interested in never fails to bring a sense of pride into his heart, but seriously - even the most serious of men needs a cuddle every now and then. plus, you fit so well into his arms! can you blame him for being a little needy after a whole three hours of being denied any sort of affection despite the fact that you’re seated right across this stupid table??

you can’t and you shouldn't.

“you promise this will be the last round?”

“for today, yes!”

your boyfriend sighs and nods. yes, his need to cradle you in his arms is overwhelming. but when you look at him with eyes that shine brighter than the stars in the desert at night, how can he refuse? he’d give you a whole oasis if you asked for it. he can last just one more round of tcg.

... right?

cyno swears it has to be the longest match of his life.

you’re so cute when you’re thinking over your actions; eyes gazing upon your cards and his in contemplation as you mumble strategies under your breath. you’re so cute when you do a little cheer as the dice gods graced you with luck on your dice rolls. you’re so cute when you gasp in awe as he pulls a rather tricky maneuver that ruined your plans to attack his deck in this round.

archon kusanali give him strength, for you’re so cute and he wants a cuddle so badly.

“nooooooo,” you cry out in despair as he downs the last two of your characters at the same time with a well-timed elemental reaction, your body slumping against the table.

cyno can’t help but smile, although he does feel a bit bad from beating you yet again, so he decides to give you a little tip to hopefully cheer you up, “almost got me there. why don’t you try using a freeze team next time? you have the cards for it, and i think it'll suit your playstyle.”

at once, your head snaps up and you meet his gaze with determined eyes.

oh.

oh, he just dug a grave for himself didn’t he.

“[name]-”

“you’re right. let me- let me rebuild my deck, wait-”

“you promised-”

“i know, i know! just- fifteen minutes! give me fifteen minutes!!”

cyno wishes he could bang his head against the table, rattle his stupid brain and zip big mouth shut.

he just wants a cuddle.

why is it so hard to get a cuddle?

what’s a man gotta do these days for a cuddle??

cyno sees you staring at your character cards with your hand on your chin, clearly in deep thought. your boyfriend then opts to glare at his character cards, as if they were the ones who had stolen his cuddles, but a few seconds into that and he scoffs, looking away to the side as warmth rapidly bloomed across his cheeks.

seriously, what kind of man gets jealous of a card game?

but cuddles...

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #ayato #kamisato ayato #ayato x reader #al haitham #al haitham x reader #cyno #cyno x reader #rin writes

7K notes · View notes

burstinn · 4 months

Text

You accidentally sit on their face, And they actually enjoy it

HEADCANONS

Warnings and Notes:

All of these aren't serious hcs, I was high again and wanted to make this

I made this for funny

Slight nsfw

Gn reader, target audience is male

Haha face sitting

People mentioned:

Riptide (Tide), Soap, Gaz, Ghost, König, Makarov, Keegan, Horangi, Price, Krueger, Roach, Logan, Graves

You are tired, after agrueling training from a grouchy superior who had a bad day so he had to take it out on you and your comrades. You needed to sit down, badly. Your legs are about ready to give up.

Once you reach the common room, fucking finally. You pull out your phone to find something to watch, while you make your way to the sofa.

And you sit down, Before you felt something poking you, something.. Wrong. You immediately look down realizing you.. YOU SAY ON SOMEONE'S FACE

"OH MY GOD, I'M SO SORRY"

RIPTIDE

- He immediately sits up looking at you, well if his mask was off he would be confused at fuck

- "Sorry for huh??"

- Seems like you say on him while he slept

- "... ", "nothin"

- Weird, but okay.. He tells you go off while he layed back down to continue his eye rest

- Thank fucking god, Thank the holy stars he didn't catch you sittin on him

- BUT.. The holy stars didn't feel like saving you right now. Because apparently a rookie caught you accidentally sitting on Tide and told him after he woke up.. That fuckin snitch

- Now you have to face the embarrassment of Riptide confronting you about it the next day.

- Tide sounds upset as well while confronting you, how humiliating

- Well the thing that you don't know is. The thing is, he angry cause HE DIDN'T GET TO FEEL TO ASS ON HIS FACE. HE DIDN'T GET TO FEEL A PLUMP ASS SITTIN DOWN ON HIS FAAACE

- and by God would he find a way to let you sit on him.

SOAP

- Yknow.. You know how I write this man..

- He saw you walk in, distracted by your phone.. Obviously making your way to the couch while he sitting down.

- Then he got the bright idea.. To yknow.. Lay his head down to just... Idk stretch.. Totally

- He had the pleasure as well to watch your ass slowly sit down on his face, well for a few seconds anyway. Then you immediately get off his face. Sad life fr

- "huh? What's up why'd you get off?" "Your ass is nice to look at btw"

- " you saw me about to sit down on you and you didn't say anything?!"

- "A man gotta do to experience something new man.."

- You would hit him. But you would also get in trouble for that.

- he would joke the shit about it as well. He would tease the fuck outta you for the rest of the month for this.

- Bro won't even hide to shamefully ask you if you wanna sit on his face again ( in a joking way)

- (He's actually serious)

GAZ

- He was about to shut his eyes when he suddenly saw an outline of an ass about to sit on him.

- His eyes suddenly opened and he tried to get up but nah.. Too late bro you gotta feel the full plumpy moons first

- When you got up his eyes were wide and his face was red.

- "no.. It's okay.."

- he got off and left. Leaving you in your shame

- He had to leave to compose himself.. He found something new about himself and he isn't sure how to react

GHOST

- His eyes were closed.. Then he felled something soft on his face.

- Then a scream oh my god I'm sorry

- Oh.. Shit...

- He sits up, realizing you sat on his face.. He doesn't say anything.

- His face is fucking red under the mask. Your ass suddenly looked twice as big as before. Don't know how that works but go with it fr.

- He got hard, you noticed.

- "dude.. Sir..?.. Are you.."

- He just looks at you. He has that look in his eyes

- Cmon, yknow what you gotta do.. YOU KNOW

- SIT ON HIS FUCKING FACE RUAUAAAAGHHH

KÖNIG

- He wasn't expecting ass in his face, he thought he wouldn't enjoy something like face sitting but hey.. It's actually.. Nice?

- He doesn't say anything when you suddenly sit up embarrassingly trying too apologize

- He just nodded..

- He wanted you to sit on his face again so fucking badly..

- So badly he would lay down on literally anything sittable while you were in the room

- It was so fucking obvious it was almost funny

- You had to confront him about it. And he just.. Confessed, yeah, he wanted you to sit ok his face

- .... Cmon bro.. Be a man and sit on the guys face, Make his wish come trueeee

MAKAROV

- " sit back down"

- "excuse me? Sir.. No-"

- you better sit the fuck back down on his face

- He will literally pull a gun on you and force you to sit back down on his face

KEEGAN

- No fucking lie he literally took a fucking huge sniff

- You know because you fucking heard that comically loud sniff

- You had to cut your apology short to look at that dude in disbelief

- "Did you just fucking sniff my ass?!"

- Bro will literally look at you with a goofy ahh face and just look at you.. Not saying anything, not even a fuckin nod

- "you gonna sit back down on me or..?"

- He made you sit back down on his face

HORNAGI

-EHEHEHHAHAHAHAHAAHAAHAHAHAHAHEHRHEHEHHhahahahahaahHAHAAH

- He will literally squeeze your ass, then pull your legs and make you sit back down on his face

- Don't even try to fight. His hands are fucking locked down on your thighs to keep you stuck on his face

- He made you sit down on his face for so long, you were literally concerned if he was breathing

- if you ask him if he's alive, he would just squeeze your leg to show you. Yeah, he's good

- if you look behind you, He's hard.

PRICE

- would smile and assure you it's okay.

- Pats your back, for more assurance. But he literally wants to Pat your ass

- Bro would imagine what it would be if you sat on his face

- Naked. Yes, if you sat on his face naked.

- If you did his beard would tickle you.. Which was what he wanted fr

KRUEGER

- He would say something like in a very angry and demanding tone

- "Why'd you get off?"

- "huh?"

- "Sit.Back.down"

- You did

ROACH

- Yo.. He feelin something he never felt before. Haha lie he just found a new kink he would actually enjoy

- He would literally follow you around and tug your shirt and point at your ass then his face

- If you would say no, He would leave and come back a few minutes later and do the same thing

- He would do it until you say yes..

- He's very happy. He's a very happy bug

LOGAN WALKER

- Would scream at you

- because you made him discover something about himself

- He's angry because of that

- He would force you to run 15 laps because of that.

- Then when you suddenly tired, sweating yo legs shaking from how tired you are

- He would silently and gently ask you ( he would toss you over his shoulder and walk you off to his room and make you sit on him)

- He won't explain why he did that. He just wanted to

GRAVES

- Would look at you like 🤨

- Then be like 😐😒😏

- stands up and slaps your ass

- and asks you to sit on his face

Everyone mentioned

- You will face fuck them

- Do not fight me on this, they will make you face fuck them

2K notes · View notes

cozage · 1 year

Note

this is my first time doing an ask but,, can I have a Law/Luffy/Ace (all or any, either is fine!) where the reader accidentally keeps seducing them without knowing? like a few incidents where the reader is oblivious to the way she is affecting them would be very cute <3 love your writing style a lot btw, it gives me butterflies hehe~

A/N: Thank you Anon :) that was such a nice compliment ahhhhh i love you

Characters: f reader x Law, Luffy, Ace

Cw: SFW in bullet points, some suggestive content in the “story” portion and alcohol mention in Law’s and Ace’s

Total word count: 2.4k

Oblivious Flirting (and one very obvious one!)

Law

Some things you do without knowing that makes his heart flutter:

Touching the small of his back when you move behind him or lean in to talk to him. It’s just something you do with everyone, but it makes him freeze whenever you touch him there specifically. He feels electricity bolt through his body whenever your skin makes contact with his. He hates when you pull away, and has to swallow the knot in his throat and attempt to act normal.

You consistently tease him about his earrings, telling him they’d look good on you. You beg and beg to try them on, and he always waves you off. He lowers his hat to cover his face, feigning irritation and trying to end the conversation, but really he’s trying to cover his blush. (And he has to admit, he thinks they’d look good on you too)

You’re one of the few people Law allows to sit in his study with him, because you don’t bother him. Occasionally you’ll be reading, or see something interesting or funny, and you’ll gasp or laugh or make a funny expression with your face. Law finds that so endearing, and he loves it even more when you say “Captain, listen to this!” and then go on to repeat whatever you just read. It’s one of the few times he finds himself smiling and something so small and trivial, and he always loves how excited you are about it all.

The crew had just gotten in from a long night, and you were just a bit too tipsy to function normally. You cursed the tight dress you were in, and the zipper that always got stuck. You opened your door, looking for anyone who could help loosen the damn thing just a little, but nobody was around. You ventured down the hallway, looking for the one man you knew would be awake at this hour.

You found yourself at his office door, and you knocked softly. Your captain had been the one member of the crew who hadn’t gone out to the bar with you all, claiming he needed to work on some project. He opened the door a crack, and you smiled up at him.

His eyes scanned your body and then quickly snapped back up to your face. “Is there something you need?”

You frowned and turned around, sweeping your hair away from your back. “Help,” you whined to him.

“With what?” You could hear the irritation in his voice, and you held back the urge to laugh at him.

“My dress. Can you unzip it?”

His voice comes out in a low hiss, and you can hear that you’ve caught him off guard. “What?”

You laugh now, and you turn your head to catch his gaze sliding down your back, trying to find where the zipper ends. His face is beet red with embarrassment and full of shock. You can’t help but laugh even harder, looking at your captain so tongue tied.

“Not like that!” Your voice is a tad too loud, and Law shoots a look down the hallway to see if anyone will emerge, but it stays silent. “Unless you want it to be like that,” you say more seductively, giggling lightly and scrunching your face at him in a teasing manner. You wink and turn around, waiting for him to unzip the top part of your dress.

He stands there, frozen as a statue. He’s so confused about this interaction and if it means anything more than drunken teasing on your end. He knows you’re one to do harmless flirting, but this feels like something more, he just can’t explain why.

“Lawwwww,” you impatiently sing his name out, and he snaps out of his frozen state. His fingers hover over your zipper, and he pulls at it gently. It doesn’t budge, and he has to use more force, finally getting it to budge. He unzips it a third of the way down your back.

“Further,” you hum to him, and he obliges after a moment. He unzips it all the way to your waist before stopping himself from going lower. He stands there silently for a minute, transfixed by the view he got now that your back was so exposed to him.

“Thank you, captain.” Your voice is low and full of exhaustion. The events of the night have finally caught up to you, now that you were more comfortable and the dress wasn’t squeezing your body. You rub the drowsiness from your eyes and turn back to him, giving him a sleepy smile and bounding off down the hallway.

He wished he was capable of telling you how desperately he wanted to follow you in that moment.

Luffy

How to make Luffy’s eyes to widen at you:

Putting on lipgloss. The first time he saw you do it, the shine it gave your lips, he was awestruck. You caught him staring, and offered him the tube. “Wanna try? It’s cotton candy flavor.” He didn't know how to explain he wanted to lick it off your face, not the tube.

When he’s close to you, you like to scrunch your face up at him and give his nose a little tap. Sometimes it’s prompted by him being silly, sometimes you’re just walking by and get the urge to do it. It can be accompanied by a “boop!” which usually makes him laugh so hard he falls over. He doesn’t know why, but he likes being so close to you and having so much fun with you.

Whenever you refer to him as captain, he falls a little harder for you. He loves hearing “Luffy'' out of your mouth, but there’s just something so sweet about the way “Captain” comes out. Where others use the words begrudgingly, you always sing the word, making it light and fluffy and the word passes through your lips and floats around him.

Your shouts of glee rang out across the Sunny as you jumped over barrels and bounded across the deck.

“Give it back!” Luffy called out, but his tone was light as he chased after you. He laughed as he shot his arm out at you, trying to grab the strawhat off your head. But you ducked at the last second, and his arm whipped past you. You jumped over the balcony onto the lower deck, turning around mid leap to stick your tongue out at him as you fell.

You dashed across the deck, and as you went to turn left, he shot across to cut you off. You yelped in surprise, turning on your heel to dash the other way. You could hear Luffy behind you, groaning in frustration.

“Wow, this strawhat has such nice shade!” You called out while still running. “I think I’ll just keep it forever!”

You could hear Luffy laughing behind you, and you knew he was planning another attack.

“In your dreams!” You heard something slingshot past you, but you didn’t bother looking to see what body part it was this time. You just kept running.

And then you were at the bow of the ship, and you realized you were cornered. You scrambled to the top of the figurehead, desperately trying to find a way out of your position.

Rubber arms wrapped around you tightly and secured you to the top of the Sunny’s mane. Luffy had pinned you down, and though you tried to get out, you knew it was futile.

“Luffy, let me go!”

“Give me my hat back!” He swung up to stand on the figurehead, directly in front of you. His face is twisted in a pout, but you can tell it’s not a serious one.

“Take it back yourself if you want it so badly!”

He pulls himself closer to you, trying to get his arm free enough to grab his hat off your head. But he’s stretched out as much as he can, and his arms are tangled up in eachother.

You laugh out loud at the realization that both of you are stuck in a strange stalemate. You can’t be freed without giving his hat back, and he cant get his hat back without freeing you.

“Is there anything else I can offer up in exchange for my release?” You smirk, and he knows he won’t get his hat back yet. Not that he minds. He likes chasing you around.

With you this close, he notices how your lips are shining against the sun. You must’ve put on that lip gloss before you took his hat.

“I want to try your lipgloss.”

You giggle, assuming his mind was always on food. “Sure, but that’s in my pock-”

He cuts you off as his lips press against yours, his tongue licking your lips to gain entry to the rest of you. For a second you tense, shocked that he would be so bold, but then you relax into his touch, letting him explore the inner parts of your mouth. Finally.

You feel his arms release you from captivity, and his hands rest on the back of your head, pulling you into him further. You stand there together, liplocked for a moment, before he finally breaks away from you, his eyes clouded and dazed.

“That tasted great! Let’s do it again some time.”

You leap off of the figurehead and back onto the deck, his hat still atop your head, racing away from him and laughing for the whole Grand Line to hear. “You’ll have to catch me first!”

Ace

Ways to unintentionally get Ace to burst into flames:

The way you are always touching his shoulder to get his attention. Anytime you say “Oh, Ace!” it’s always accompanied by a soft touch or an eager tap on his shoulder. He loves your excitement and your eagerness to share things with him

Whenever your confidence comes through, he swoons. You don’t take shit from any other crew members, and you never let people talk over you. He loves watching you hold your own against others. He’s always ready to jump in if he needs to, but he gets so giddy watching you yell at other people and stand your ground.

You are always making fire jokes. Sometimes it annoys him when other people do it, but never with you. You’ll spot him in a crowd and yell “Oh, I knew it got hotter in here!” and it makes him want to melt into a puddle. You’ll eye him and joke “You look hot today,” and the shock and embarrassment will ALWAYS make little flames appear across his body, to which you follow up “No, Ace. Now you’re literally on fire.” You know you’re the one who sparks it, but you still find it funny nonetheless.

“Like hell you can beat me!”

He heard your voice ring out across the deck of the Moby Dick, and he shuffled through the crowd to find you in a stand off against Curiel. You both raised your tankard, hit them together, and down the grog in a matter of seconds.

You slammed your tankard on the ground moments before Curiel, and the crowd erupted into cheers at your victory. Ace found himself laughing along with everyone, proud of your accomplishment.

“She’s something, huh?” Marco’s voice came from behind him, and he turned to face his fellow commander.

“She told me she’s working her way through drink offs with all of the commanders,” Ace replied with a soft chuckle. “Looks like she’s making progress.”

Marco snorted at the thought. “I’ll be impressed if she ever faces off with either of us.”

Hands reached around from behind him, and fingers danced across his chest, giving him goosebumps. “Ace,” you whined in his ear, and his entire body tensed at your closeness. “Give me a piggyback ride back to my bed please.”

Marco raised an eyebrow at him, and Ace blushed as you jumped up without waiting for a response, certain he would wrap his strong arms around your legs and carry you. And he did.

“You can walk you know, Y/N,” Marco said, watching your head rest against Ace’s, your eyes already beginning to close.

“Ace is more comfortable,” you mumbled, rubbing your body against his bare skin to prove it. “He’s hot, you know.”

Ace’s body erupted in small harmless flames at your comment, and Marco burst out laughing. The second division commander got flustered so easily, if you were the one complimenting him.

“Let’s go,” Ace grumbled, hauling you away from Marco and off to your room.

He walked silently through the corridors, painfully aware of where all your bare skin was touching his. Your fingers laced together on his chest. Your arms atop his shoulders. Your face, resting against the back of his head and on his neck. His hands held the underside of your thighs, and your inner thighs pressed tightly into his back and his waist. There was so much of you, so close to him.

He placed you gingerly on the bed and covered you with a blanket. He tiptoed out, giving you one last look before he closed the door.

“Come join me,” you called from your bed, hoping he hadn’t already left yet.

Ace’s face flushed, and he stepped back inside your room to close the door, hoping nobody heard. “In bed?”

You hummed in agreement, patting the empty bed beside you.

“I cant,” Ace stammered, trying to think of some kind of reason to avoid a night of torture for him. He didn’t want you to regret anything in the morning. “I’m, uh, dirty.”

“Join me in the shower then? If you prefer,” Your voice was devious and gleeful at the same time. He could hear the smile spreading over your lips as you spoke, and he realized he had caught fire from embarrassment again.

He wished he had said something witty, or cocky, or said anything really, but all he could do was swing your door open, run out, and close it quickly.

“Goodnight Aceee!!” You sang from the other side of the door. He could hear your giggles and he ran down the hallway, too flustered to put his own flames out.

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