#Even if you take my voice that wouldn't be enough to stop me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kaiser1ns · 3 days

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𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗱𝗼𝘂/𝗿𝗶𝗻 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 (𝘀𝗲𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲)

╹synopsis :: you just wanted to eat something but your boyfriend said no.

╹contents :: fluff, tw : tomatoes (i hate tomatoes), but I love oranges, just two menaces to society trying their best to be good boyfriends

SHIDOU RYUSEI

Sitting in your apartment with your boyfriend while he made a sandwich for the two of you to share during lunch. "Don't put so many tomatoes." You pointed it out from the table. "Shut up and enjoy that I'm making you a damn sandwich."

"I hate tomatoes."

"You hate everything."

"Ryusei! Just don't put so much product on the sandwich!" You watched him as he gave you a pointed look while he picked up another slice of tomato and placed it on the bread. You stood up, ready to go smack him right in the smug look on his face when you realized something.

"Rin was right." You said it out loud with a disgusted look on your face. "Now that's a joke," The blonde said as he began to add more condiments to the sandwich that you wanted to eat but now, you lost appetite.

"We bicker constantly." He shrugged, "So?"

"So? We are like a cat and a dog. Constantly picking at one another."

"Technically, you're constantly picking at me."

"Seriously?" You crossed your arms over your chest and he looked up and smiled. "You do things just to piss me off!" You accused, Shidou scoffed, "As if!"

"I'm not joking."

"I'm not either," he put the other piece of bread on the sandwich and took a huge bite. You rolled your eyes and stormed out of the room, not wanting him to see your eyes filing with tears.

"Babe!" He followed you, grabbing your arm and stopping you before you could make it into your bedroom. "I'm sorry, I'll be serious now don't be upset."

You sniffed, "Can we be a normal couple for once and not fight for the most stupid things? "

He was trying really hard not to laugh, "All couples have little fights now and then."

You sniffed, wiping away your tears, pulling you into his chest and holding you close. "I happen to like our little fights."

This surprised you, "What?" He chuckled and rocked you both a bit as he held you in his arms. "It's how I know we are okay. When you pick at me I know you don't mean harm by it. I know you're just being you and you love me. It's when you aren't talking to me that I get worried."

He pulled away from you, cupping your face with his hands and wiping your tears away with his thumbs. "I love you, and I love our dynamic. I wouldn't change us for the world. Besides, someone has to keep you on your toes~"

You rolled your eyes, but let Ryusei pull you in for a loving kiss. When he pulled away he smiled down at you, handing his phone "Want to order something instead?"

You grinned "Yes, please."

He nipped at your lips again before turning to head back into the kitchen. "Good because the sandwich I made is way too delicious to share it with you."

You scoffed, and a smile soon followed. You loved your dynamic with him too, but sometimes you just wanted to kill him, lovingly of course.

ITOSHI RIN

You slumped onto the couch, exhausted from a long day at work. Glancing at the fruit bowl on the coffee table your eyes landed on a plump, juicy orange. Sighing, you turned to your boyfriend, who was sitting beside you, scrolling through his phone.

"Rin, can you peel me an orange? I'm so tired to even lift my hand." you asked, your voice weary. Rin, without looking up, shook his head. "Not right now, Y/N. I'm in the middle of something."

You pouted, leaning your head on his shoulder, "Please? Just one orange. It won't take long."

He sighed, still not tearing his eyes away from his screen. "Y/N, no. Why don't you peel it yourself? It's not that hard."

You groaned, too tired to argue further, and as you let youself sink deeper into the couch cushions. A heavy silence settled between the couple, and soon enough, your eyes fluttered closed as you drifted off into a nap.

When you woke up, the room was bathed in the soft glow of the evening sun. Stretching lazily and then noticed something on the coffee table. There, sitting in the center, was a perfectly peeled orange, arranged in neat segments. Beside it was a small, folded note. Curious, you picked it up and unfolded it, revealing Rin's familiar handwriting.

— Sorry for being stubborn earlier. Enjoy your orange.

A smile appeared on your face as you popped a piece of the orange into your mouth. You looked over at Rin, who was now napping in the armchair, and felt a rush of affection. Quietly, you tiptoed over, pecking his soft lips, and whispered, "Thank you."

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kandlewick · 21 hours

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since its taking so long, im gonna drop a preview of my leona's ''i'll dry the villain's tears'....... this one is special because i unfortunately decided mid writing that i wanted it to be romantic but alas that means i had to scrap a lot of twst lore to fit my narrative hghfg so think of this one as an au to my usual entries. an interest check. these entries were MEANT to be strictly platonic but a few of them (leona, MAYBE azul and malleus (between lilia and the reader)), just gave me so many ideas.

SO IT IS UNFINISHED! its 4k words but still unresolved unless people like, want me to scrap twst lore as heavily as i did in this lmao

i'll dry the villain's tears pt. 3.1415926535897

you get reincarnated into a role that became the breaking point of the villain's story and you, be it an unwillingness to cause them harm or a desire to survive, must work hard to make sure they grow into a better (or at least safer) person.

all entries are USUALLY to be read as platonic however this one wouldn't go away. All are USUALLY meant to be taken place in the TWST universe accurate to the game but this one is special because I love leona and he'd be so cool as a manwha love interest.

You awaken one day with perhaps the largest bump you've ever seen placed nearly perfectly center on your forehead. You don't remember how you got it exactly but the two princes never left your side (Falena would not stop crying and despite his claims of laughter at your expense, you can tell his brother was equally worried), only being dragged away by their tutor as soon as they let their guard down.

You looked down at the hands on your lap and clutched your fists open and closed over and over again. Gone were your long fingers and wide palms, instead you looked down at the chubby hands of a child no more than six.

From what your handmaiden had told you, the three of you had been playing spelldrive together and Leona, in his eagerness to best his brother, had shot the disk perhaps a bit too strong and instead of flying in to the goal, it had changed course and struck you hard enough to knock you unconscious for the rest of the early hours of the morning.

You remembered this event. It's what led to Falena's betrothed sticking closer to him and farther from Leona. What once was a well balanced trio had become a teeter totter with Falena and her on one side and Leona alone, unable to change anything with what little weight he had to offer.

Falena's betrothed; that was you. From the story you had read, the two were deeply in love and ruled the kingdom hand in hand towards a brighter future... all while unknowingly leaving the youngest brother in the shadows, forgotten and alone and desperate. You couldn't afford for that to happen.

You don't see the two of them until late that evening. Falena looked exhausted, like the tutoring had beaten any last bit of energy he could spare and with a loud yawn, had eagerly hopped into the cot next to you on your right. Leona was slow to join the two of you but settled himself to your left, his shoulder bumping yours as you turned to give him your attention, curiously returning the gesture. Leona matched your gaze, looking you over for any signs of pain before he opened his mouth.

"You look ridiculous," he spoke aloud, glancing at your bruised forehead. Subconsciously, you reached up and checked the tender spot and gave him an unimpressed look.

“I only look like this because you can’t shoot a disk right.” You huffed, choosing to ignore his presence, instead cuddling up to Falena who was more than eager to reciprocate, easily wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulder and nudging your chin in a friendly hug. “At least your brother is being nice to me.”

However, despite your teasing voice, Falena was quick to come to his defense, “Leona’s just not good at showing he was worried about you. You should’ve seen his face when he saw you fall over, I’ve never seen him run that fast in his life.” Leona rolled his eyes but made no response as his brother laughed, choosing to settle himself in your cot while closing his eyes, his tail lazily curling up behind you. Your beastman tail - you don’t know when you would ever get used to that - sat itself besides his, curling the two into a gentle hold. Leona glanced over at you from the corner of his one opened eye but chose not to comment about it.

Even at your young age, you could tell that Leona communicated in a particular way. His words may be harsh, but his actions were tender.

“Mmm, someone had to.” Leona muttered, nuzzling himself deeper into the pillows, “Falena was too busy crying about you to be of any help.”

Falena made no effort to deny the claims and sheepishly smiled at you, “He is not wrong, haha. I was very worried for you! You should’ve seen the maid’s face when they saw you passed out in the field!” He reached out and plucked your hand into his. When you looked at him, you could still see the red dotting his eyes from how hard he had cried. It was no wonder your body’s original owner had fallen so head over heels for this boy. While he and Leona were brothers, they couldn’t have been more night and day.

“You shouldn’t have worried too much, Falena! I’m fine, really. Kifaji said that I should be fine in a few days.” You waved his worry off with your hand, gingerly pressing the tips of your fingers against the small lump, “There wasn’t a concussion or anything but he wanted to make s- Hm?”

Falena and Leona both looked up at you with wide eyes, both of their gazes making you feel small. You slumped in your seat and blinked at the both of them, silently feeling sheepish all of a sudden, “Is something wrong?”

“Why are you calling me by my name!” Falena looked almost scandalized as he let go of you, his hands floating at your sides like he was too scared to touch you, “Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?”

“Eh? Eh?”

“Looks like I hit her a little too hard.” Leona chuckled, watching in barely contained amusement as his brother’s soul practically floated out of his chest, “What happened to calling him, ‘husband’?”

This body’s former owner was a precocious little child, wasn’t she!!! You couldn’t believe the audacity, calling your ten year old fiance ‘husband’!

As required of any royal belonging to the Sunset Savannah, you were expected to build lasting relations with other tribes and honorable guests much like any other adult and as such, other than the two royal siblings, you were given many playmates. Some were older than you and some were younger, but they were many and varied and always tried to stay on your good side. And as such, they were exceedingly worried about you when you arrived late to your most recent playdate with a freshly bandaged head.

“My liege, what happened!” the youngest cried, quickly latching on to your arm, tears welling up in his shiny eyes, “Are you alright? Does it hurt?”

You waved them off with your hand, a soft but embarrassed smile on your face. Their eyes watered, their large elephant beastman ears flopping up and down wildly as they looked you over head to toe for any sign of injury. You could hear them loudly sniffling as they bit back tears. They’ve always been a bit of a crybaby from what your memories could tell you. A shy, but friendly young boy… if a little bit of a hypochondriac. One of your older playmates rolled her eyes but you could tell she was worried by the subtle way she refused to leave your side, glancing over at you from the corner of her eye.

“I can’t believe Prince Leona would do something as clumsy as hurting his brother’s fiance!” One of your newer playmates huffed loudly, her eyes narrowed in annoyance, “Really, he’s lucky his brother forgave him so fast - ah! You as well, it’s good you forgave him too!! He doesn’t deserve it if you asked me!” She huffed loudly as she played with your toys, her jaguar tail batting the floor loudly. She paid no mind to your two companions sounds of offense, instead choosing to meet your gaze from over her shoulder.

You blinked at her, your eyes wide in confusion. Your two other companions matched your expression, the two of them surprised she would dare to say anything like that outloud. Leona hadn’t meant to hit you after all! You were playing…

Your newest playmate, so new you could hardly remember her name scoffed at the three of you, obviously annoyed you didn’t join her in her thoughts. “For real, who does he think he is? He’s the second son, he should be bowing on his hands and knees at your feet! You’re the future king’s fiance, he should be grateful he’s even allowed to play with you two! W-”

You don’t know what came over you and why you did it, but you felt your body react to her words, and somehow, your fist made contact with her cheek sending her sprawling on the floor. The sound of her collapsing was loud enough to shock you out of your stupor, a dull ache throbbing around your knuckles. She looked up at you with wide eyes as she cradled her cheek, you staring down at her with equally large doe shaped eyes. You couldn’t believe you had just done that!

“Leona is my friend.” Your lips began moving before you could even think. You were firm on this even as tears began welling up in your eyes. Ah, you sighed. Even if your mind isn’t young, your body still is shaking like a leaf. The hand you had punched the child with quivered from nerves. “Dont - don’t speak that way about him!” Your voice raised in pitch, “His brother and I love him very much!”

The little girl bared her teeth at you, unwilling to take your actions lying down, “How can you say these things? He hurt you!” She hissed.

“It was an accident!” You matched her tone, the sadness quickly evaporating into anger, “Sometimes accidents happen when you’re playing! He’s good and kind and would never, ever hurt me! Ever!”

Your shouting was quick to alarm the servants stationed outside your playroom’s walls. Kifaji was the first one in, eyes sharp as he immediately separated you from the other children, stepping in the way with his back to you. “What is going on here?” He questioned. There was no room for nonsense in his expression and his words matched that as he gazed around the play area. The girl cradled her cheek as she glared at you, unwilling to speak up. She may have made the mistake of bad mouthing the second prince in the presence of other children, but she knew better than to say those words around another adult that wasn’t her own parent. Kifaji raised his brow at her silence before turning to your gorilla and elephant companions, silently questioning the two. They shrunk under his glare and made no move to open their mouths instead choosing to nervously shuffle closer to you.

You tugged on Kifaji’s robes, the fabric soft between your trembling fingers. Glancing over at you, he leaned down and crouched to match your gaze. While his eyes were hard and strict, you could tell that he cared about you and the princes. He would listen to you. You could trust him.

“She was talking badly about Prince Leona…” You whispered to him, “so I punched her.”

Kifaji made a face, but nodded his head slowly. You hoped he understood. With a heavy sigh, he gathered up his robes and picked himself up.

“Come along,” He gestured to the girl, “Let us find your parents. I believe the playdate has come to an end.” and with a gentle hand, he helped her up as she began dabbing away at her eyes but not before shooting you a glare from over her shoulder. You stuck your tongue out at her. As soon as the adults exited the room, you quickly reached up and wiped away the tears staining your cheeks before returning to your friends, the mood sufficiently ruined for the rest of the play date.

It wasn’t until later that evening that Kifaji returned, a cross expression on his face. The guards at his sides were quick to disperse as he approached you, his robes billowing out behind him like colorful plumage. With practiced precision, he kneeled down to your eye level and reached out, bringing your small hands into his. His rough hands itched against your soft ones.

“What you did today could have ended very poorly, my liege.” He spoke softly, but his tone was firm, “You must remember, your position here in the palace is not final. If you cause too much of a ruckus…”

Was the king’s advisor really telling you to ignore this? That you should let Leona be bad mouthed by those in power? You were quick to glare at the older man, ripping your hands away from him and taking a few steps back, eager to separate the two of you.

“I’m not going to let people say whatever they want about Leona.”

Kifaji, shocked, stared for a moment before narrowing his eyes, “This is what I’m talking about, my liege. You are too quick to anger. You must calm yourself. I am not saying you must ignore the problem, but what I am trying to say is, your position in the palace as Falena’s future spouse, is not permanent.”

You hated to admit it but he had a point. You bit your lip but said nothing, cowed under his words. It was the truth. If you wanted to protect Leona, despite having the best intentions, you couldn’t exactly expect to have the sway as an adult. You were a child and easily replaceable. A glorified playmate.

“That is why, my liege,” Kifaji brought himself to his feet, dusting off his robe with a flick of a wrist, “you come to me.”

You turned and looked at him, not expecting the protective glint to his eye. He nodded his head before continuing.

“I will make sure that these things are handled correctly without repercussions. As the king’s advisor, I am not so easily replaceable.” He chuckled, fixing his glasses with a precise motion, “I will admit I am not as… in touch with the other servants in the palace and diplomats are always so careful with their words around me, it’s difficult to gauge their true intentions but with you, they will surely slip up and speak more plainly then perhaps they should.”

You stared up at the man in awe. You couldn’t believe your luck! Kifaji was taking your side and was going to actively help you in your quest to project Leona. Maybe before he was never given the opportunity, never had the time to set aside to investigate. Maybe he never knew. Now, however, he was given the chance with you to defend the prince. You very nearly teared up but were quick to wipe them away as Kifaji laughed, his hand reaching down to ruffle your hair affectionately.

And so the two of you were quick to act, swiftly cutting contact with merchants and dignitaries that shared less than favorable feelings for the second prince. You and Kifaji would have monthly meetings together with snacks courtesy of the king and his wife as you spoke of matters in the palace. You had a special role, scouting out and spying on maids and soldiers that gossiped in the servant’s quarters. Nobody expected anything when you even brought in your two playmates, Magani and Akut (the gorilla and elephant beastmen respectively) to join in on the spying. This carried on for several years as you heavily vetted all coming through the palace all without letting Leona see the work you pulled behind the curtains. All the strings and wires were yours to control and you were going to make good use of the opportunities you were given.

But, for some reason, Leona never seemed to want to leave your side. While you worked on your schooling, he would sit and while away the hours under the light of the sun from his favorite perch right beside your desk. Even in this life he was a lazy lion, preferring the quiet you brought then the loud personality of his elder brother. Sometimes you would join him on his naps, your tails quietly intertwining in a silent embrace. It was a comforting feeling. Moments like this were always a relief after the hours you and Falena had to spend together in your diplomacy lessons. A lot was expected of you as the future queen of Sunset Savanna. There were many late nights where you both stayed up till the crack of dawn together, stubbornly unwilling to give up with tears in your eyes as you studied until your vision blurred. It wasn't an uncommon sight for Kifaji to find the two of you bundled up together with books piled at your feet in the early hours of the morning.

Afternoon lunch dates with Falena and Leona were also rowdy and fun. While Falena was always quick to stay by your side and fight for your attention, Leona was seemingly content with letting your future husband monopolize your time. It wouldn’t be uncommon for Leona to doze off while Falena tried to do ‘couple-y’ things with you

It was all perfect.

Until Falena was accepted into the Royal Sword Academy.

“You’re… breaking our engagement?”

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar #leona kingsholar x reader

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loserlvrss · 19 hours

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꒰ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌 𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ꒱ 최종호

summary : you had been having what seemed like the longest and worst shift, but once it was finally over everything got better

genre : fluff, jongho x afab!reader, slice of life tws : language, complaining, kissing, pet names, mentions of not eating (doesn’t have to do with a eating disorder) author notes : okay guys i gotta stop this fluff shit before i start actually going crazy dude word count : 0.8k

your feet ached, and helping the customers were more taxing today than normal. you found yourself glancing at the clock anytime you got a chance to. you were counting down the minutes — since you punched in, truthfully — you couldn't wait for the shop to close.

it must've have been the month where the most people celebrate their birthdays because you swear it was busier than the holiday season.

you couldn't wait for the moment when you could close out the cash register and lock the glass door. you wanted so desperately to wash away the stress and put on your pajamas, curl up on your couch and distract yourself. you'd been so anxious the whole day that you skipped lunch, opting to hide for your break because you couldn't muster up enough strength within you to not go non-verbal. you could feel pain in your lower back, it getting more noticeable the more time in between customers. you, at least, wanted to sit down while you were slow, however there always seemed to be a task you needed to complete.

when you finally turned the lock, turning off the lights, and making your way to the back to gather your things, you found yourself checking your phone for notifications from your boyfriend.

jongho was supposed to be getting back from tour today, but you didn't have enough leisure time to check when he was landing. maybe that's why you felt like time had being moving in slow motion. but honestly, you wouldn't blame him for instantly going to bed, or dance practice. he was hardworking by nature, and that always inspired you to do your best despite being willed to do the opposite.

you knew him well enough to shoot you a quick message before his head hit the pillow though.

you pulled a grey hoodie — he had let you keep before leaving, per your request, wearing it over and over again so it smelled like him — over your head and slinging on your cross-body bag.

the outside air was crisp at almost nine at night, causing you to bunch the sleeves around your fingers as you locked the backdoor. you mentally prepared for the walk home, taking a deep breath.

usually, jongho would walk with you and stay over; of course, when he was available to. so, safe to say, you've been walking home alone for the past couple months — save for the few times your friends would show up with beer clutched within their hands.

of course, you were happy to see them, but it wasn't the same feeling you got when you saw him. he was comfort within a person; a living being you didn't physically posses, but emotionally. and, that was more than money could ever buy you.

"y/n," you swear you missed him so much that now you were hallucinating his voice, "y/n."

you blinked a couple times in disbelief of being face-to-face with your boyfriend, who has been away way too long, in your opinion. you almost had to do a double take, pinch yourself, maybe even slap yourself out of this dream state.

your head cocked to the side, and a chuckle rang through the air, "baby, don't make me wait any longer, please."

and you really didn't need to be told twice before you embodied usain bolt and jumped into his embrace. "w-when'd you get back?" you took him within your palms, kissing his face all over, "oh my gosh, i missed you so much. how was tour? i can't believe you're back, shit, this is the best ending to a bad day."

you rambled on about it being the best surprise ever, planting feather-light kisses to every inch of what you could reach. it might've overwhelmed him when you two first started dating, but it was something he now craved like air.

you made physical affection his love language. it’s like he was an addict, love being his fever and drug.

he unwrapped his arms from your waist, no longer holding you up to be face level, grabbing your cheeks and finally shutting you up by pressing his lips over yours almost desperately.

he knew you missed him, plainly spelled out through various texts and calls while he hid from his members. and he missed you just as much. he missed the lingering smell of your perfume, the melodic tune to your laugh, your soft skin and honest perfection. he missed your touch, your hand in his, body-to-body and heart-to-heart. he just missed your whole aura, simply put. you were the sun on a cloudy day, the voice of reason to his hardship, his warmth on a cold night.

you were everything. and, he only realized this the more time you spent apart because of his career. its safe to say that the heart does grow fonder with the distance.

“i missed you more, believe me.”

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

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yu-huuuu · 2 days

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Hey there! How about having the madara, hashirama and itachi's way of celebrating an anniversary with his wife as headcanons? Thank you!

[ 🌸 ] oh...! If I were married I would like to go to a beach to do you know what thing… that's right, I'm talking about drinking pineapple with my partner while I tell him the gossip that my grandmother told me the other day-

characters: itachi uchiha, madara uchiha, hashirama senju

genre: fluff with a touch of comedy

warnings: none, spicy parts, reader being pampered by three adult men, happy married couple

...

Itachi Uchiha

—My sweet boy.

—He sleeps a little longer than usual to enjoy the warmth of the morning by your side, even though he has a whole list of plans of what he wants to do with you. —When he feels he's had enough rest, he gets up quietly and heads to the kitchen.

—When you wake up, he brings you breakfast in bed with a smile so beautiful and bright that it makes you fall in love with him for the thousandth time.

—He gives you a shy smile if you decide to share something from your plate with him (he'll eat it, but, don't expect him not share from his own plate with you too).

—In the end, the two of you end up feeding each other while laughing like lovestruck teenagers.

—After that, he takes you to the bathroom for both of you to take a shower before starting your day.

—He is gentle as he scrubs your shoulders, back, and chest while you just sigh relaxed with his soft touches.

—Of course, he'll let you help soap up his back.

—In the end, he wraps both of you in towels before carrying you in a princess style to the bed.

—Things… happen when you get there.

—Let's just say your legs wouldn't stop trembling for a good few minutes.

—Anyway!

—You both go out to eat at a nice place.

—While eating, Itachi's free hand plays with yours under the table.

—When your stomach is satisfied along with his, you go out holding hands and walk through the park (which was surprisingly empty) before sitting on the grass under a tree. —And now it feels like a dream to Itachi. You by his side as he feels the fresh breeze. —Your head fits like a puzzle piece on Itachi's shoulder while he wraps his arm around you, resting his head on top of yours. —You stay like that for a while until Itachi tells you he has a little surprise for you. —You’re a little surprised when he takes you to a spa. —And Shisui suddenly appears, telling him that the Hokage is calling him for an emergency. —He kisses you on the forehead before telling you he'll come back for you and to relax at the spa in the meantime, giving you some money before disappearing. —You stay there, trying not to feel too disappointed but thinking it will be quick. —When you're relaxed and your hair is styled and shiny, you're surprised to see Itachi outside the place. —Waiting for you with one of his lovely smiles along with a bouquet of flowers, as if he hadn’t left you there for two hours. —"Shall we go?" he asks, giving you his hand and the bouquet to take. —On the way home, you wonder what has him so smiley until you enter the house and find out why. —He made you dinner. —Well, it looks more like a buffet with your favorite foods combined with his. —He guides you to the table and pulls out the chair for you to sit before sitting next to you. —That's when you realize it's impossible that Itachi could have done all this by himself in such a short time. —"The Hokage didn’t call you, right?" "No, but I made you dinner." —Enjoy his food, please. —He had a great time enduring Shisui’s cheesy jokes on the way home. —When you’re both satisfied, he gives you something he’s been working on for several months as a gift. —As a gift, Itachi gave you a small book in which he wrote some poems that perfectly describe the love and affection he feels for you. —Every feeling that your words, touches, and voice evoke in him is written in its pages. —It’s a very personal and special gift for him, one that he made exclusively for you and only you, and no one else. —Please! Don't cry or he might get alarmed. —Anyway!

—At night, when you enter the hallway leading to the bedroom, you’ll see a path of petals.

You let out a soft laugh when you saw the petals on the wooden floor. Your heart was pounding hard against your chest, making you feel excited.

A small blush crept up your face as you imagined what Itachi had prepared for you. "Itachi! What is all this?"

"Another gift for the most special woman in the world," he replied with his own quiet laugh while leaving several kisses on your shoulders, as far as his position behind you allowed him to reach.

The walk to the bedroom felt relatively much shorter than it had all the previous times.

You let Itachi guide you, feeling so in love while feeling his hands over yours, caressing them with his long, cold fingers as he accompanied you.

A gasp of awe escaped you when you saw the bed. There were several petals on the bed and the floor, the window curtain was open, letting the angelic moonlight into the room, making it look ethereal and so intimate.

Your heart skipped a beat when Itachi cupped your face with such tenderness. He kissed you so gently that it almost made your knees want to give out. You smiled when you felt his hands slowly and methodically undress you.

He was definitely the man of your dreams.

...

Madara Uchiha

—Many will say that Madara is already prepared to celebrate your anniversary four days in advance.

—Well, that is half true and half false.

—Don't look at me like that, the man has been preparing since the beginning of the month.

—Although…

—Don't get me started on your first anniversary (the poor guy was running around like a headless chicken since the beginning of the year. He was like that until you saw him nervous because he couldn't find a good gift for you… and there were still five months left).

—He will want to give you a special (and expensive) gift. —Although sometimes he runs out of ideas or has them but doesn't know if they are good and if you'll like them, the poor man is like: "😦, now what?"

—Sometimes he goes and asks Hashirama for suggestions (once the good man suggested for some reason that he bake a cake and bring it to you in bed as a nice surprise, he even offered to help him… it didn't go well).

—Sometimes he goes to the cemetery to talk to his brother's grave and ask for advice. He knows it's useless to ask a dead person for help, but somehow it makes him feel better and gives him more confidence with the ideas that come to his mind.

—And, in turn, it fills him with energy to continue. —Because your man may be stubborn and confident when he's on the battlefield or when he's face to face with a tailed beast, —but then you come along and weaken him, and he doesn't know what to do, aww! —Going back to before! —Girl, you hit the jackpot. —It's like it's your birthday. —He spoils you a lot, he just wants to pamper his beautiful woman (not that he doesn't do it every day, though). —He takes you to eat wherever you want and buys you whatever you want, because you know, in his words: "My wife's happiness is my happiness." —When you get back to your house, he'll ask you to stay in the room for a moment while he disappears into the bathroom. —And when he comes out with a big smile, you know he's up to something.

“What are you doing?” you asked, letting out a small breathless laugh as he held out a hand to you, which you took with amusement.

Madara smiled at the sound of your little laugh. “It’s a surprise,” he replied, looking into your eyes with love, his own body trembling with anticipation and longing at seeing the subtle playful glimmer in the rich color of your eyes.

He gently guided you towards the bathroom door while still holding your much smaller hand compared to his. Before entering, he turned to look at you, “close your eyes”

You made an ‘o’ with your mouth as you did what he had asked; to tell the truth, you were excited, very excited in fact. You heard the soft sound of the door opening and then felt the gentle warmth of the steam on your face and a smell that at first, you couldn't distinguish but had escaped when the door was opened.

A smile spread across your lips from the excitement, but you held back, not wanting to ruin the surprise your husband had prepared for you.

You quickly identified the smell, it was… lavender? A soft laugh wanted to escape you, it was your favorite and your husband’s too.

You felt his body press against yours from behind, giving you a different kind of warmth than the steam. His chest found its place pressed against your back while his strong arms wrapped around you. His chin rested perfectly on your left shoulder.

When it came to him, everything felt like a puzzle; every piece always fit in its place, your hands when you interlaced your fingers, when you both hugged or when your lips met, it felt as if the world had made you for each other.

“Open your eyes”

You did.

Your eyes opened to see several petals on the floor and on the water in the bathtub. The candles lit up the bathroom, the light was soft, giving the bathroom a special and romantic touch.

“Happy anniversary, dear,” your lover whispered before making a trail of kisses on your shoulders and back. You squeezed his arms as his hands moved over your beautiful body with the sole mission of pleasing you.

...

Hashirama Senju

—Fun guy.

—He has several gift ideas he wants to make (I feel like if Hashi-Hashi had Pinterest, he would have a board specifically for ideas to make for your anniversary).

—In fact, in modern times, I can see him making ice cream with milk and crushed cookies just because he saw it while browsing the internet looking for easy desserts to make 🥺 Hashi-Hashi solves.

—Okwy, okay, okay

—Let's get to it!

—My handsome guy will wake you up a bit early to make the most of the day (he managed to escape after signing all the papers the day before and somehow left his younger brother in charge of the Hokage Tower).

—Also, he is somewhat excited and nervous about what you will say when you see his wedding anniversary gift. I mean, he spent a few months making it with such care that he fears something might go wrong.

—He insists on making you breakfast as a reward for all the times you have kindly made and prepared food for him when he has to go to work.

—But it doesn't turn out so well, you know?

—Poor thing, my boy 😭.

—Please avoid the burnt part of the egg and the overly toasted side of the bread. He did what he could 😭✨.

—After eating, you both wash the dishes (you insist on helping him after the last time you let him wash the dishes alone, he managed to break a cup… and it didn't even fall to the floor to begin with, you are still trying to figure out how he managed to break it).

—After that, you both stayed on the porch enjoying each other's presence until lunchtime.

—He will take you to the forest for a picnic lunch in nature ✨ The guy has some ideas.

—He will lean on your shoulder while nibbling on his ham sandwich (he leaves some crumbs on you, although he removes them afterward).

—After eating, he will ask for permission to lie on your thighs, he simply loves the feeling of being with you.

—You both stay talking for a while as you gently run your hands through his hair, relieving all the accumulated stress he has from his job.

—Sometimes, the leaders of other villages drain all his energy, but he keeps going, for you and for all his people!

—After that, he takes you to another place.

—He looks nervous yet excited. When you reach a part of the forest, he is practically smiling from ear to ear.

“Close your eyes”

“Why?” you asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

“Just do it, I promise you won't regret it”

You smiled. Although you were nervous, you trusted your husband— whatever he was planning in that head of his.

You felt his rough hands gently taking yours to start guiding you. Some giggles escaped you when you heard him nervously trying to guide you and tell you not to trip over a rock.

Although, to be honest… you didn't feel as many leaves under your feet— could it be that Hashirama had cleaned the path you were now walking on?

Your heart bubbled at the thought of your husband trying to keep the path clean and perfect for you, and suddenly you understood why Tobirama was sometimes alone in the Hokage Tower and seemed a bit nervous when you asked about your husband's whereabouts.

A laugh threatened to escape your throat, but fortunately, you held it back. Both brothers were terrible liars, maybe it was in their genetics.

“We're here, darling,” Hashirama said excitedly. You could practically feel him bouncing a little with excitement, like an impatient child wanting to show something he was proud of.

“Alright… open your eyes”

You opened them only to marvel at the variety of vibrant colors dazzling your sight.

In front of you was a landscape with several flowers of different shades and colors. The soft scent that filled your lungs made you sigh with pleasure, freeing your mind. You vaguely wondered how you hadn't noticed the smell of the flowers before; maybe you were so focused in your mind that you didn't pay attention to it.

The gentle squeeze of Hashirama's hand softly brought you out of your thoughts. The sun was beginning to set, and the sky was tinted with various colors, which only added to the beauty of the landscape before you.

“Shall we?” your husband asked, excited to show you around.

Your eyes shone, “Yes...”

And if you both did something else that afternoon, well, that would stay between you two and the flowers surrounding you.

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amourtoken · 1 hour

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Hiiiiii

As promised, here's some hard ass dom Noah thoughts <3

*NSFW below the cut, MDNI*

cw: pre established consent, hair pulling, mean dom Noah, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, dacryphilia, slapping, spit, safewords (unused, dw), spanking, edging, pet names, choking, belly bulge, overstimming

♡ let me start off by saying I think he's a softie 90% of the time when yall aren't fucking but there's that quiet mean streak he has that's reserved for specific times yk

♡ he's had the worst fucking day and needs to take it out on something. You're the unfortunate something.

"Need you. Don't ask, just follow my fucking directions, okay?"

♡ he's dragging you by a handful of your hair to sit you between his legs, you two have a safeword for times like this but you've never had to use it. Noah typically knows his limits. (Just bc he knows them doesn't mean he won't tiptoe at the edge of them)

♡ can't help himself, you're just so soft and pretty and looking up at him w the biggest puppy eyes :((( you're even cuter to him when he's measuring his fat cock against your face and you're pressing messy kisses up and down the length of it. So trained for him.

"open."

♡ still cute to him even when he's holding your jaw in his large hand and leaning over you to spit in your mouth. He loves the way you get teary eyed when he drags his fingers through the mess on your tongue and gags you on them when he fucks them down your throat. If you can't take his fingers how do you expect to take his dick? He's nice enough to at least attempt to warm you up.

♡ he's a hair puller and a fucking head pusher in these times, both hands buried in your soft locks while he drags you up and down his cock, throbbing at the sight of big tears rolling down your cheeks from how harshly he's fucking your throat. He'll hold you down on his dick until you can't breathe and start to squirm then he'll pull out of your throat before you start to panic too hard.

♡ 100% paints your face with his cum and smears it around with the tip. Thinks you're pretty even when you're messy (even more so tbh) he's also gonna drag his fingers through the mess on your face and make you lick it off to clean up.

"It'd be a shame to waste any, wouldn't it puppy?"

♡ still fucking hard after he cums cause he's insane and needs you so unbelievably bad. He's nearly dragging you off the floor to throw you over the edge of the couch, admiring your body while you're bent over and your back is arched so well for him. He'd run his hands over your thighs and grab a handful of your ass before slapping it hard enough to leave a pretty intense handprint. He loves the way your voice sounds, spanking you just draws out the pretty whines and yelps, how could he not?

♡ he buries a hand in your hair and pulls back to arch your back even further before thrusting in, he doesn't give you much time to adjust. His brain is too fucking foggy right now to go through the usual prep, he just needs to feel you. His free hand is squeezing your hip hard enough to bruise while dragging you to meet his thrusts. He loves the way your ass bounces against his hips every thrust, you're so soft compared to him. He could do anything to you and you'd let him.

"So- fucking tight for me- you know who's pussy this is, puppy-"

"Takin' this fuckin' cock so good- fuck-"

"So messy...all for me, right? Say it."

"Tell me how good this dick makes you feel, no one else can fuck you this good, hm?"

"Keep making those sounds, baby- fuckkk-"

"Gonna cum? Gonna fuckin' cum on my cock baby? Not till I say so. Beg me for it."

"You can handle another, stop whining."

"So sweet of you to let me take all that stress out on this sweet little pussy- feel so fuckin' good for me.."

♡ you can feel him hitting your cervix every thrust and your body jolts harshly against him, the hand in your hair is making your eyes water it's pulling so hard to keep you in place. His other hand has moved from your hips to dip between your legs, rubbing fast messy circles on your clit until your legs are shaking so bad you couldn't possibly hold yourself up without Noah's help. Every time you're just about to cum though he pulls his fingers away and laughs at the pathetic sounds you make.

"What? Want something? Use your words, puppy."

"wanna cum? Feels so good when you squeeze around me like that- you can hold out for a little longer."

"Keep begging for it, I'll think about it."

♡ at this point you're in full blown tears while he's fucking you against the arm of the couch, you've been so close so many times and he's so fucking mean for taking it from you. He pulls you by your hair up so your back meets his chest and continues bullying your pussy, the hand in your hair fitting against your throat and squeezing just right to make your vision blurry and head feel foggy. There's a little bulge just below your navel in this position from Noah fucking into you so deep.

♡ after tormenting you to his liking, his hand returns to your clit and quickly tosses you over the edge. You're nearly convulsing in his hold and tears and still running down your face as he continues playing with your pussy. He doesn't stop even when you're squirming and whimpering, begging for a break cause you're overstimulated and can't take anymore. He'll stop when he's finished, there's nothing you can do to throw him off course now.

"What? You wanted this so bad now you're begging me to stop? Too late now."

"You can cum again, stop crying."

"Awe, what? Too much? Just a few more, then I'll think about stopping."

♡ he pulls you through 3 more orgasms, it felt like an electric current was rippling through your body as he buried himself as deep as he could and filled you with his cum on the last. The hand on your throat squeezed a little tighter to hold you in place. Black spots flooded your vision and you flopped over the couch arm as he pulled out, a mess of slick and cum nearly pouring down your legs. Poor thing, you were spent. Noah was panting behind you, holding himself up with his arms on either side of your body.

♡ he almost felt bad for putting you through this but if you really wanted to stop, you would've said so. You're so good to him, and this run in has made him forget entirely about the shitty day he's had prior.

♡ you're so spent you can't drag yourself off the couch, but Noah is more than happy to pick you up and bring you to bed. Once he sets you down, he can't help but admire the mess he's made of you. Surely you wouldn't mind if he drug you to the edge and buried his face between your legs, right?

#Nowah #noah sebastian smut #guhhhh

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cree-future-rabbi · 23 days

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I saw another blog change their name in solidarity of being half aboriginal and half Jewish

I BREATHE TO SPITE THOSE WHO TRIED TO WIPE OUT MY ANCESTORS BECAUSE I AM HERE AND I WILL FIGHT THIS HATE UNTIL WE WIN OR I DIE

LOOK WHERE YOU STAND AS YOU PROTEST

LOOK AROUND YOUR UNIVERSITIES, HOW MANY ABORIGINAL STUDENTS DO YOU SEE?

Do you even realize you are protesting about stolen land ON STOLEN LAND, we did not give you our land.

Your shitty ass ancestors killed us, slaughtered us like pigs, you called us savages. You stole our language and culture.

Fuck you, YOU GO HOME PROHAMASSHOLE

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welcometogrouchland · 5 months

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I love it when "they should be at the club" is like, an actual character dynamic, with person A looking at person B as they work themselves to the bone/throw their own happiness away for the greater good/take on more responsibility than anyone could ever hope to bear and they're just like. Hey. You should be at the club

#ramblings of a lunatic #this is about Barbara Gordon and Cassandra Cain in batgirl volume 1 #literally babs is like cass wouldn't it be nice if you did things that normal 17 yr old girls get to do-#-instead of living and dying in your kung fu self hate cycle that will inevitably destroy you???#and cass is like. no #cassandra cain (and bruce wayne) voice:#''everyone asks if there's anyway to stop the self sacrifice spiral never how was the spiral it looked fun was the spiral fun?''#dick is also this for bruce but the club is less literal in that specific sense #(also this is soooo far removed from their canon dynamic. but play with me in this space for a bit-#-this but it's steph @ jason)#(like she realizes he's the same age as cass- she would not have guessed bc he's fucking huge and grizzled-#-and she's like damn. you should be at the club jason-#-just an in passing observation! arguably ribbing him about his melodramatic vengeance quest-#-that becomes a lot harder to take seriously when you remember he's barely old enough to legally drink)#(and jasons just like. what would i even do at the club steph. what part of me seems like a guy who would have fun at the club)#(Jason and Bruce are both too autistic for the club. cass is the right amount of sensory seeking autistic to get something out of the club-#-but really babs should be taking her to a mosh pit for maximum enrichment. she'd thrive)#ANYWAY. having a moment ignore me #my previously obtained ibuprofen is the last defence against me and certain doom (sore throat oof ouch)#like that meme of the soldier with knives and bombs in his back protecting the sleeping child #point being idk how long it'll last so i should sleep sooner rather than later to get the max benefits

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fxllfaiiry · 11 months

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─ you're the sunflower ੈ✩‧₊˚

✶ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader

✶ synopsis: everyone on the team loves you, expect miguel who seems to hate you more than anyone.

✶ warnings: angst!! major angst. sunshine!reader x grumpy!miguel. reader is nicknamed sunflower, mentions of death.

✶ notes: there's one spanish sentence in this, I'm not good with spanish so if I've made a mistake please tell me so i can fix it! part two is already up!!!

Everyone on the team loved you from the moment you joined, everyone, except Miguel.

You knew Miguel was cold towards everyone, but he was extra cold with you. Maybe it was because of how different your personalities were.

You were the embodiment of sunshine, always positive in any situation, putting others before yourself. Hence why everyone calls you sunflower, it fits perfectly, Miles was proud of coming up with it.

Miguel on the other hand was cold and distant but that didn't stop you from trying to get him to open up. You'd try to have simple conversations with him but nothing, all you would receive in reply was an eye roll or a slight grunt, but you wouldn't give up that easily.

Like today, you got him some coffee.

"Morning, boss. Got you some coffee." You said in your usual cheerful tone.

"Why?" He raised his eyebrows, looking down at you suspiciously. That's the most he's said to you all week.

"Because I wanted to." You shrugged, placing it down on his desk.

He steped down walking towards his desk, you couldn't help but stare at him, unfortunately for you, everything about him was so attractive, it's such a shame he hated you.

"This isn't how I like my coffee."

"Huh?" You snapped out of your daydream at the sound of his voice.

"The coffee, it tastes terrible. Get it from another place next time."

"Well, actually I made it-" But he had already walked away from you not listening to a word you said. "Alright, never mind, I'll just go back to work." You mumbled hurt by his words.

"Wait, hold on." You looked up, thinking, maybe he'll say something nice after all.

"Yeah?"

"Take the coffee with you, I won't be drinking it."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Girl, why do you look so sad? Did Miguel do something again?" Jess asked with a frown, she did not like seeing you sad.

"No."

"Sunflower…"

"Okay, yes." Miguel being cold towards you was normal, he never spoke to you unless necessary. Out of everyone here, he probably hated you the most, even more than Miles.

"Sunflower, I've told you to stop trying." Jess sighed.

"I know, I know… why does he hate me so much, Jess?"

"That's just the way he is, don't overthink it. It's his loss, baby." She replied, gently patting your shoulder.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Today was going to be a good day, you were so sure of it.

But, of course, you were wrong.

Everything was going great up until a few hours ago.

Miguel had assigned you on a mission to catch an anomaly, alongside a few other spider-people. His instructions were clear, stick to the plan and catch the anomaly. It was supposed to be simple.

If only you didn't disobey him. You screwed up badly, and because of that, you could have been killed.

"Why don't you ever listen?" Miguel shouted. No one had ever seen him this angry.

"I was just tryin-"

"¡Ay, por el amor de Dios!" Being yelled at by your boss in front of your coworkers was humiliating, everyone was looking at you with pity.

"I'm sick of this, why can’t you follow simple instructions? Is it that hard to understand?" He barked, towering over you.

"It's not a big deal." You tried to keep your composure, you didn't want to humiliate yourself further by bursting into tears.

"Not a big deal? You could've died! A simple mistake would have ruined the whole mission."

Don't cry. Don't cry.

"But we're all fine, aren't we?" You weakly chuckled. That was the wrong thing to say because it only made him angrier.

"Oh? If that's the attitude you have then you shouldn't even be on the team." Ouch.

"Miguel, I think that's enough-" Hobie said, quickly jumping in.

"Not now, Hobie." He growled.

Never once did you think that you'd be in a situation like this.

"If you put more focus on trying to be good at your job, rather than impressing me, we wouldn't even be here!" Oh, so he did notice that.

At this point, tears were streaming freely down your face and you made no attempt to stop them.

"Yep, you got it, boss." You smiled up at him through your tears. It was pathetic, but you did not care, you just wanted to leave and never come back.

"Next time make sure this doesn't happen."

"It won't happen next time." That's because there won't be a next time.

#📂 ‧₊˚ my works .ᐟ #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #spiderman x reader #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara angst

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snowyves · 5 months

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Who knew this orc suitor of yours would be laying panting and desperate beneath you in a span of 2 weeks? Absolutely no one.

There that ginormous, muscly and beefy orc sweating and whimpering just for you, begging you to atleast touch him a little on his swollen balls, maybe just a peck on his lips would be just as perfect, but enough to make him explode and release all the load he's been compiling over the week, he hoped to unload it inside you though but as long as you're satisfied, he'll gladly kneel down for anything.

You lay comfortably on top of him, peppering sloppy kisses all over his lips, his neck, almost gobbling him up, he just embraces your waist and accepts your affection like the good boy he is, isnt he? Oh but he wouldn't take that unless you say it.

Being a little too carried away into the moment, you didn't even notice the way he's slowly trying to hump unto your pelvic area, just trying to get the slightest bit of friction on his full dick, but of course that angelic face of yours comes with a oppositing teasing demeanor.

"Patience.." that one word shuts off all his motor skills truth to be told, he's not even his own monster anymore, he's just yours, there to please you, to let you toy with him, let you use him, break him even.

"My sweet please.." trembling voice begging, just begging you to let him have a taste, but in all honesty, you were the one getting impatient.

"Just a little then okay?" Your sweet, sticky voice whispering in his ear, giving him that cue to start lapping you up like the starved orc he is, a thirsty man hungry for that cunt, its that only thing that could truly hydrate him, nothing more.

What was little about any of that when your juices are all up on his face, with 2 of his fingers pumping inside, deeper, deeper, and then completely out, and then inside, and deeper and deeper and out again, the squeelching noises is all you can hear inside your room, his pants, his desperate groans and little side comments like "all f' me" and "jus' what i need"

You attempt to close your legs a little to give yourself a little break, but his beefy arms just stop it and completely spreads it to its maximum flexibility, giving him the full access to the delicacy infront of him.

You cum, clear liquid gushing unto his mouth and he still continues to lap you up with vigor, the overstimulation gets to you and you scream with so much pleasure, gripping the sheets and your eyes rolling back and your mouth wide agape.

Its been minutes, maybe hours? And the bedsheets are soaked, this man not tired, and your pussy quivering from making out with that gorgeous mans' mouth.

You sweared on the heavens above you NEED to get this man a ring on his finger.

It came to the point where you were in doggie, your legs stuck to each other, you can feel your cunnies lips squished together, and this mans' tongue lapping between that tiny gap, then completely mouthing your whole pussy, he grips your hips and pushes it deeper into his face, the pressure of his hooked nose pressing unto your labia and ass is just too much, you try to wiggle away but something about that awakens your orc's instinct, he pulls your hips deeper, deeper unto his face, the grip that his fingers have on your hips is just diabolical, but nothing more than being eaten out from the back right?

"Just give me one last sweetheart, okay ill be good i swear.."

Whats what he said the last time

#size difference #male monster #monster bf #monster fucker #size k!nk #female reader #monster smut #submisive and breedable #minotaur smut #orc x reader #orc boyfriend #orc smut

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shadow4-1 · 26 days

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I'm just imagining being nervous around the 141 and yet STILL garnering their attention.

Like, you've done everything in your power NOT to get noticed. You're as happy as a clam to work on all the behind the scenes issues. You don't even go out on the field!

You're the one to get gear in place, you're the one talking to Nik and supervising the equipment repairs. You make sure the armory is stocked and that the showers aren't running with rusty water.

You really DON'T want any eyes on you.

You just want to do your job and do it in fucking peace.

So why the hell are they always wanting your attention?

"There she is. Keepin' everything in order while 'm gone." Price chuckles, placing a hand on your back as he passes through the armory's narrow shelves. "Looking to take my spot as Captain hm, Love?"

You bury your face into your clipboard, trying desperately to ignore him. He's not going away but God do you want him to. His presence is always so overwhelming and his gaze so pointed. If you could shrink into nothingness you'd try.

"Oi, Bonnie!" Soap calls out to you at mess. He waves his arms wildly, making everyone look his way. "C'mere! Sit w' us today!"

He's so loud his voice echoes across the cafeteria. Recruits and lower ranking members shrink at the sound of it. So do you, even though you can hear only excitement in his tone instead of the usual ire he employs while training the rookies.

You know that if you decide to sit with your friends you'll never hear the end of it. But if you choose to sit with him and the rest of the all star task force you'll be under their gazes for the better part of the morning. You want to just drop your lunch tray and run out, but on unsteady legs and a bowed head you shuffle to the table.

"Well well, look who it is." Gaz huffs, looking up from his terminal set up in the surveillance room. "Thanks for packing those extra headset chords for me."

"Uh...yeah, no problem." You nod, trying to ignore him while simultaneously digging in an old box full of wires.

"Whatcha lookin' for?"

"Uh...a mouse. A wireless one."

"Here, take mine." He smiles, unplugging the tiny chip from the side of his laptop. "Need a new one anyway."

"It's alright I-"

"Just take it. You deserve it more than me." He hums, looking away wistfully. "If it weren't for those extra cords we wouldn't 'ave been able to call for evac on that last mission."

You take the mouse into your palm, feeling uneasy. Something about his demeanor isn't right. Gaz is always confident and sure. But the way he glances at you before he turns back to the computer makes you worried.

Is he...jealous?

You slip out of the door and close it behind you without making a sound.

"Need t' put a bell on you." Ghost grumbles. "Can't hear you n' those."

You stop midway down the hallway, confused and nervous.

You look down at your old, beat up reg boots from your PT days. They were definitely in need for a decommissioning, but they were comfy despite the fact that the soles had no tread anymore.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." You awkwardly mumble. "Need new ones."

"No."

You raise a brow at him. It was just the two of you in one of the maintenance hallways which was, ironically enough, poorly maintained. The overhead fluorescents flickered and made it hard to focus.

"Keep 'em." He nods, turning away and showing you the full breadth of his back. He mutters at you as while he keeps walking on.

"Keeps you under the radar."

#call of duty #cod imagines #mw2 #mw2 headcanons #simon ghost riley #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish #captain price #kyle gaz garrick

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allbark-no-bite · 18 days

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good boy.

art donaldson x reader (wc: 2.9k)

summary: as Art’s personal physical therapist, it’s your job to fix what Tashi has torn apart, by whatever means necessary. or in which Art just needs some TLC

warnings: 18+ smut, it could be worse tbh, mentions of disordered eating

author’s note: i’m back ig?? im out of uni for the summer and challengers has me in a chokehold. Art Donaldson the man that you are

————————————————————————

You're standing just within earshot of the doorway, passing a sanitary wipe over one of the tables in the athlete treatment room when you hear the door abruptly open. Tashi storms in with a purpose and Art trails meekly behind her. Even if you had been clueless to how the match had gone rather than on the sidelines beside Tashi not even twenty minutes ago, you could have guessed by the hard line of her mouth that Art was in for it. Not that her displeased scowl was much different from her usual scowl, but you'd been around long enough to know the difference.

She stops abruptly, and Art heels obediently as Tashi turns around to face him. "I need you to tell me when you're going to fucking get it together so that I can stop wasting my time."

Weary and sweat soaked, Art just stares at her with that pitiful look on his face and says nothing in reply. His blue eyes solemnly take in her harsh disappointment as though beyond used to it. At this point it's not all that foreign to you either.

"You may as well be fucking asleep out there," she snaps.

This time his mouth opens. "I- I'm just tired-" he begins, although there's hardly any argue to his voice at all.

"No, I'm tired, Art," Tashi interjects. "Do you have any idea how much fucking work I've put into getting you back onto the court this past year?! I've done everything! The least you could do go out there and try to act like I've done anything for you at all!"

Art swallows, the slight frown on his face deepening. "I am. I just- I don't-"

Before he can even finish his sentence. The open palm of Tashi's hand connects with his cheek as she pops the left side of his face. Art closes his mouth. You pretend to concentrate on wiping down the table. It's not the first time you've witnessed one of these conversations but it still feels private, like you shouldn't be here. You keep wiping the table.

Understanding that anything else he says is only going to make Tashi angrier, Art resigns to once again watching her in silence. His blue eyes are sad. The usually fair skin of his cheek is tinted pink where she popped him. Although it wasn't very hard, you're sure it still hurt him all the same.

"Quit wasting my time," is all she says before she finally turns and leaves, walking right past you and out the other door. You hold your breath as she passes you. Art watches her go but makes no move to follow. You release an audible sigh. It's been a frustrating day for everyone. As Art's personal trainer, physical therapist, and close friend, you felt every loss, every ache and pain, every bad play. And there seemed to be a lot of those lately.

Art is still standing there, watching the closed door that Tashi left though.

Not knowing how to break the silence, you finally pat the freshly sanitized treatment table. "C'mon," you call gently, as though beckoning to a wounded dog.

It takes a moment for him to budge, but eventually he does, his disheartened spirit apparent in the way he walks over. Used to the usual routine, he tugs his damp shirt off over his head as he takes a seat, the lean muscles of his torso flexing as he does so. You allow yourself to ogle at him, only for a brief moment before stepping in between the bracket of his knees. Gently, you cradle his chin, tipping his head back to look up at you as your thumb smooths over the redness of his cheek. His blue eyes blink up at you, sad and dog-like.

"It wasn't terrible," you reassure him. "You had surgery six months ago. You're still getting your feet back underneath you. Most people wouldn't have come back." You're right. The still-pink scars on his shoulder are still fresh on your mind. The stitches weren't even out before Tashi had him in physical therapy. Even though his medical team had released him, it was still a bit early to start doing rehab so soon after surgery, Art's comfort being your biggest concern. But when Tashi wants something, she gets it.

Wordlessly, Art sighs, the weight of his head settling into your palm as he finally lets go of the tension he'd been carrying. It was always like this. You fixing what Tashi had torn apart. You understood where Tashi was coming from. Art needed a firm voice in his training, and you had a lot of respect for the way she put her foot down and never let up, not even once. But there was only so many times you could kick a dog while he was down.

So if Art needed someone to coddle him, you would coddle him.

He trusts you. He needs you, is what Tashi had told you when she asked you to stay on as his trainer full time. The three of you had been in the same year at Stanford all those years ago, Tashi and Art on the tennis team and you helping out as a student trainer as part of a class requirement. Three peas in a pod, the trio of you were. Of course then they both graduated, leaving you to finish up your schooling, meanwhile Art set off to go pro.

A few years later, once Tashi officially took on the position as Art's coach, she began building his team, and that's where you came in. You were hesitant at first.

'I already lost to you once, Tashi. I won't come in second to you again.'

She had paused on the other end of the line. Back in your Stanford days, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that you were head over heels in love with the blonde tennis player. But loving Art was like accepting the participation ribbon for a game you knew you weren't going to win in the first place. It was like standing next to the podium, just lucky enough to be included in the picture while Tashi and tennis took first and second place. And so you let him go.

'I'm not asking you to. This is different.'

Your hand slips from his face, and he forces his eyes open.

“Have you eaten?" you ask, stepping away in order to put some distance between the two of you and look for the granola bars that you keep especially for him. The gels were good sources of quick fuel in between sets, but they were hardly enough to even begin to make up for the calories he burned while playing.

Slowly, Art shakes his head, but he makes no move to take the snack from your hand when you offer it to him. Ever since his injury, nutrition became all the more important. So much to the point that every single thing that he consumed was mapped out to the exact calorie. Although he would never admit it, any sort of change in this routine made him incredibly anxious. Some days it was better not to cause him the anxiety than to force him.

Today, you insistently hold out the bar until he begrudgingly takes it from your hand. You don't move until you've seen him tear open the package and take a bite.

"Were you still feeling tight?" you ask as you walk around the table, stopping at the slouch of his turned back. You reach out to grasp at the joint of his neck and shoulder, your thumb smoothing over the kinesiology tape that's peeling away at the base of his neck.

He half turns his head to glance back at you. "You watched the match. You tell me."

His response is meant to be snippy, but it comes out more defeated than anything. To be fair, you've been his trainer long enough to know that if something was bothering him physically, you would have picked up on it.

"I want to hear it from you."

"I felt fine."

Your left hand follows suit on the other side of his neck, and you use both of your thumbs to apply pressure to what you assume will be a tense spot along the upper part of his traps. Predictably, Art groans at the attention. The muscles of his back contract as he fights the urge to shake you off. Relaxing the muscle hurts as much as it feels good. Besides his obvious discomfort, the rest of his body has gone lax under your touch. His shoulders have dropped at least an inch, and his chin has fallen to rest against his chest.

"Finish your granola bar," you reprimand him, your firm fingers working across his back until you find another spot that nearly has him jerking away. He releases a whine but obediently takes another bite of the bar. This time he finishes it before you have to remind him again.

You spend a few more minutes torturing him before you're satisfied that a majority of the tension has left his shoulders.

"Okay, good boy," you murmur, leaning forward so that your chest is close enough to brush against his back. One of your hands trails up to squeeze the back of his neck reassuringly.

You're close enough to hear him swallow at the name. The skin on the nape of his neck shivers despite how hot he still is from the match.

"Was I?" he asks timidly. "Good today?"

'I can be his coach. Or I can be the person he cries to after a bad day. But I can't be both. That's why he needs you."

Without removing your hand from his neck, you walk around the table so you're standing in front of him. Art widens the spread of his legs so that you can stand between them. His chin is still pressed to his chest, blue eyes focused on the ground.

"Art," is all you say, shifting your grip on his neck to tug lightly at his golden blonde hair. At your voice, he lifts his head just enough to look up at you through the pale wisps of his eyelashes. The irises of his blue eyes shine are wet with uncertainty.

Your fingers loosen their grip to allow your nails to scratch at his scalp. "You're good, Art. You'll always be good."

Art twists his head to nuzzle his cheek along the inside of your outstretched arm. His lips kiss the crook of your elbow. He swallows again. "Even if I don't play tennis?"

You can tell the question's been bothering him, eating at his nerves, and messing up his game. You know him well enough to know that retirement isn't what he wants, not really. At least not right now. What he wants is the reassurance that it's going to be okay if he can't swing the comeback.

"Look at me."

He lingers a moment longer with his lips pressed lovingly against your skin before he reluctantly shifts his gaze up to you. His look is anticipatory but reserved, as if to preemptively conceal his disappointment should you choose to crush his heart with your answer.

His fear is understandable. Art's relationship with Tashi has always been entirely built off of his tennis career. By being the driving force behind his success, Tashi has vicariously lived out the life she would have had had her injury never happened. Without tennis, Art has nothing left to offer her. He knows that if he gives up tennis, he loses Tashi.

Your relationship with Art was a little less conditional. Hell, you'd been in love with him since the first time you'd laid eyes on him at Stanford. You can still picture him standing there on the court, barely nineteen, scrawny, nervous smile, backwards cap over his strawberry blonde hair. Before he was the Art Donaldson. But when Tashi had stepped into the picture, you figured that was where your fairytale ended.

"I don't love you because of tennis. I love you because you're kind, and thoughtful, and you're passionate about what you do." You smile a bit before adding, "And you're my good boy."

The name turns him bashful again, and he's quick to turn and hide his smiling face against your arm, only the flushed tips of his ears visible. "[Y/n]," he mumbles, likely meaning to be threatening, but it doesn't come out that way.

Art Donaldson lived to be praised.

You laugh, pulling him closer so that his face is held against your chest. The hand that you don't have threaded through his hair trails up the muscle of his defined quad. "You're my good boy. Aren't you, baby?"

Art whines, squirming when your hand reaches the apex of his thigh and hovers over the forming bugle of his shorts. He's not quite there yet, his dick only half chubbed up in interest, but given the day that he's had, you won't make him wait.

"Please?" he mumbles, his face still buried into your collarbone, as if attempting to curling into you, like a small child needing their parent to hold them for comfort.

You rake your nails lightly up the inside of his thigh. "What, baby?"

Not only did Art liked to be praised, but he was masochist even on his worst days.

"Want you to touch me," he mumbles, his voice muffled by your shirt. "Please."

Your hand still scratching through his hair, you press a kiss to the side of his head, unable to suppress your smile at his timid politeness and how it never seems to fail him. The only time he ever resembled anything remotely voracious was on the court.

Palm finding his tented shorts, you cup him through the fabric. Art responds immediately to your touch, his hips shifting further into your grasp. You continue to pet him through his shorts, appreciating the way you can feel him actively responding to your touch.

His nails dig into the padding of the treatment table when you give his now fully hard dick a less than sympathetic squeeze. His breath is hot as he pants against your collarbone, alternating between laving open mouthed kisses to your skin and whining when you pause fondling him just to feel his hips rut up into your palm.

Art was so in control on the tennis court, that often after a match, putting the control into someone else's hands was just what he needed.

When his hips start to stutter, you ease up but continue to stroke him through his shorts. The front of his shorts are damp with the musk of residual sweat and precum.

His breath is shallow—anticipatory.

"Gunna come?" you ask softly, speaking into the blonde mess of his hair, cradling him. He right there, you can tell by the lackluster buck of his hips, his building fatigue, and the change in his breathing.

"Can I? —Please?" Art asks breathily. He hiccups out the last part, his voice catching.

"You know you don't have to ask."

There's a brief pause, as if coming to the realization, before he meekly murmurs, "I know.

It should be sad really, his unwavering obedience, but there are two sides to Art, two polar extremes. On the court, every match, every set, every debilitating second is up to him. No one else can help him out there, and up until about a year ago, he played like it. That was the side of Art Donaldson that Tashi wanted. After the match is a different story. In private, Art needed someone to do the thinking for him, to pull him into a reality where he could believe that it didn't matter whether he won or lost. Tashi had not the sympathy nor the patience for that kind of fragility.

Art comes with a brief cry into your chest, his body arching into yours. Your hand palms at his pulsing dick until he's oversensitive and pulling away. When you relent, the front of his shorts are sticky and wet.

Finally, Art lifts his face from the safety of your chest. His blue eyes are glossed over, but it's an improvement from the detached look they held ten minutes ago. His cheeks are flushed, a mixture of his own embarrassment and satisfaction.

You can't help the soft smile that creeps onto your face at the look of him, and immediately Art is abashedly trying to hide his face again, his own smile starting to appear. Before he can, you bring your hands back up to cradle his face, thumbs wiping away the wetness from under his eyes. This time he lets you.

His eyes study your face for a second, admiring you, appreciating the love he has for you.

“I don’t want to play tennis anymore.”

You can’t tell if it’s more of a statement or a confession. Either way, you know he’s telling you the absolute truth.

“Okay,” you reply softly, not hint of judgement in your voice. Maybe some disappointment, but that was understandable.

Retirement would be a kindness. Art would finally put back on some healthy weight, start smiling again, put on a real, actual smile. You could already see it, a nice house for the two of you to settle down in, with a picket fence and a dog in the backyard, the kind of things the two of you would have never had time for on tour.

Tennis had brought the two of you together, but it wouldn’t end you.

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x y/n #challengers #challengers smut #art donaldson smut #challengers imagine #challengers x reader

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winkwonkwankwenk · 4 months

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Alastor Head-cannons (SFW & NSFW)

SFW

Listened to music a lot with his mother when he was a boy, and occasionally you'll catch him singing. He's still got the voice of an angel despite being a demon.

"Splendid!" "Old friend" His old dialect reminds you he grew up in the 20s- 1920s. You've tried teaching him modern slang but it just doesn't sound right coming from him. His eyebrows furrow when you laugh, "Was what I said funny? Do tell, I'd love a good laugh."

Still brushes his teeth and is intense when it comes to dental hygiene. Don't let the yellow fool you, it's just the new natural color. In general, he's very hygienic. He has a strict shower routine, skin care routine, don't even get him started on his hair routine. Condition, shampoo, rinse, condition again- the list goes on and on. You tried Spa Day with him once, it was more stressful than relaxing.

His hair is naturally curly but he straightens it for a "stronger" look. He thought if he kept his curls he'd be less intimidating, Charlie saw his hair wet once and wouldn't stop trying to pet him.

Will periodically check on Husk and when he can't will send Husk's favorite liquor. He's soulless, not heartless. He does tease Husk on occasion about his friendship with Angel, it's not every day he sees the cat so flustered.

Loves veal. You've walked in on him feasting on Elk and when you backed away he simply raised a brow. "Would you like to join me? There's more than enough to share." He didn't show it, but he was bummed when you politely declined.

Loner but loves company from those he's close with. When he's alone for too long he thinks a little too much on a past he can't erase. Times like this will make him force himself outside to stroll through hell. He's not an imp, he doesn't have to worry about being attacked. You on the other hand? Not so much. When you join him for strolls, he'll keep you beside him and away from the thrashed roads. "Stay close, I'd hate to see you hurt." You think he's oblivious to how buttery smooth his words are at times, little do you know he's been watching every change in your face from your flushed cheeks to your pursed lips. He smirks to himself, knowing he's caught you off guard.

Calls you annoying names when you're grumpy like "Sourpuss". When you glare at him he just flashes that annoying grin.

Owns a lot of other souls besides Husk's and will occasionally sneak up on them just to catch them off guard. He enjoys a good power trip, brings him back to the good ol' days. Kills just don't feel the same now, what a shame.

Not a fan of physical touch. Don't even touch his suit if you're a stranger. He's a bit more lenient with those he considers friends like Rosie and Charlie, and you- but you're a special case. Maybe it's because you asked before doing something as little as fix his bowtie. He didn't know his heart still had that kind of beat, he decided not to dwell on it. "I must be thinking too hard again, I should keep myself busy."

His ears and eyebrows express his actual emotions. He doesn't seem to notice it, but you've caught him writing with his ears down and brows in a U-shape. It's almost like he's pouting, but when you ask his face returns to that empty smile again. "Hm? Oh, yes I'm fine. Just sorting some script troubles for the next broadcast."

He's not used to accepting help, only giving it. When you cheerfully ask beg to help with scripting he can't find a proper way to say no, at least that's what he tells himself. You end up being more of a distraction and he has to push the broadcast back a few days. When you apologize he just smiles wider- you didn't think it could get any wider but it did. "Nothing to apologize for, my Dear. I enjoyed our time together."

Takes his deals seriously as most overlords do. You've witnessed brutal killings, the way his pupils morph when he's torturing a toy. He'll casually wave if he sees you watching. "Enjoy the show, Darling~"

Wakes up at the asscrack of dawn just to be awake. He also wakes everyone in the hotel up with his alarm- which is just a lord recording of himself singing some Jazz song he seems to adore. He won't apologize, but he'll have coffee prepared for everyone.

Doesn't like sweet coffee and is offended when he sips any, glaring at you like you've handed him a cup of shit. "Are you plotting? Why do you make this...Nevermind." He'll be grumpy the rest of the day, voice a low growl and smile a bit sinister.

Likes to Gamble, he's already in hell, what else is there to lose? He makes big bets, the biggest being a tooth from his precious smile. When you tried to warn him about the dealer helping the other player cheat he just winked at you. Before cards could even be shown, both were dead. "I've ruined another good suit" is all he says as if he hadn't just ripped the heads off of two demons.

He used to be dependent on his glasses when he was alive, he was uncomfortable without having them in hell which is why he has the monocle now. He doesn't need it, just makes him feel secure.

His radio voice lags sometimes and he'll simply refuse to talk until it's stable again. You're the only one allowed to taunt him about it without waking up surrounded by acid.

Lets you call him Al, and when Rosie asks him about it his smile closes into a strong squeeze of his lips. He hasn't escaped the teasing from her or anyone else in the Hotel who's noticed. If someone says anything while you're around, they better pray their deal comes with protection. "I suggest you keep your mouth closed." is the only warning given.

Likes strategy games so when you show him modern ones like battleship he's over the moon. He ends up with a board game collection thanks to you since you bring a new one over whenever you're invited to his broadcast station.

"Y/N, Darling, I have a bit of a favor to ask..." and you know you're about to go through hell- well, more of it. His favors always involve hunting someone attempting to break a deal, and most of the hunts are just you tagging along to watch him bloody his hands. At least he looks good in red.

He was quiet when he first met you, now that he's comfortable around you all he does is talk. Eventually he even picks up on your compliments and returns them and then- well, it just sort of happened.

Had no clue how to actually romance. He spent his life fulfilled from killing, not chasing love. After consulting Rosie and Charlie (mistake one, they both teased him shamelessly. It's not every day you see a flustered overlord). He tries pick-up lines but they always come out as jokes, and while your laugh is adorable he can't help but be annoyed. "Surely wooing a woman isn't this difficult, prehaps another method..."

Alastor's love language is gifts but not just materialistic ones. He knows what you like and he makes sure to get you it. You've opened your door to a bloody Alastor cheerfully holding a container of freshly-harvested organs, offering to cook them for you- his way of inviting you over for dinner. He's so excited you can't turn him down, and if you close your eyes you manage to convince yourself you're just eating chicken. He learns how to make your favorite dishes after seeing you forefeed yourself for his sake, and from then on makes them for you when you join him for dinner.

"Do not tell anyone about..." He doesn't know what to call the two of you, the traditional term felt a bit too intense. You know what he means, and although you don't understand it you agree. It's not that he's embarrassed, he knows you'll become a target if others find out too much. He also has a reputation to maintain. Unfortunately, the two of you are painfully obvious.

Adores holding you, especially when he's too busy to give you proper attention. You'll sit in his lap and watch him work, telling him when to take breaks. Sometimes the two of you will read together, his head on your shoulder and nodding when he wants you to turn the page.

Tried to figure out how to kiss you while smiling. You couldn't stop laughing so he gave up and stormed off to sulk. He was expecting you to just sneak up behind him but when you stood on your toes to kiss him, his smile faltered and his face flushed almost as red as his hair. "Y/N, get back here!"

NSFW (Most tame NSFW Head-cannon I've written because he's definetly slow to warm up)

Favorite petnames for you are Honey, Darling, and Sweetness. Sometimes he'll slip up and call you by a petname while around friends or in public. Unlike him, you can't mask your face with a smile and his falters when your friends stare.

He's clingy in public as if staying secret wasn't his idea. He keeps an arm around your waist, fingers intertwined with yours. If someone stares a little too long he'll strike a tentacle at them and they'll run off.

Speaking of the tentacles he seems to sprout, he likes to tease you with them. He'll lightly strike your legs when you're walking to get your attention just to turn away and do something else. He'll sneak up behind you and have a tentacle tilt your chin up so he can kiss you, then quickly leave. He's always in such a hurry, mostly to go peek into his chest and make sure his heart hasn't exploded.

His kisses get bolder as time passes, teeth grazing your lips hesitantly until you pull him closer. Soon he's comfortable enough to slip his tongue in, grip your hair, groan against your lips. These kisses turn into sloppy makeouts that leave your lips kiss swollen and slick between your legs. "We should get back to the group," he says it casually as he licks his lips.

You're needy, he knows, he can practically smell it- he just isn't sure what to do about it. This is something he definitely can't ask Rosie about, so he decides to observed you until he figures out. He didn't think you'd mind him being in your closet or under your bed, listening to you and your toys. You catch him once, face burning as you scramble to cover yourself. "Stay as you are, continue, please- I'm learning quite a bit."

You catch him attempting to file his nails down the next day but they seem to sprout back in seconds. He's irritated, you can tell by the antlers growing on his head. You tell him he could just use his tongue but he insists on doing it exactly how he saw you. You wither under him, hiding your face in a pillow. "You're quite tight, how am I supposed to fit anything when I can barely fit a finger, hm?" He teases, pecking your forehead. He does get curious and decides to have a small taste that leads to him eating you out, tongue buried inside you as he holds your hole open. It must feel good the way you're gripping his hair and antlers, trying to steady yourself as you rock against his face.

You didn't bring up going all the way, you wanted him to initiate it since you weren't sure what exactly his boundaries were. You expected him to bashfully confess his fantasies, instead you heard a knock on your door and then your body thudding against the mattress as he ravaged your mouth. He slams the door closed with a tentacle before ripping away clothes, eyes narrow and focused. His radio voice is gone, his raw desperation showing as he rams into you. "Dammit Darling, I tried to wait...but I've grown impatient. You don't mind, do you?" and when you shake your head no he knows he doesn't have to hold back. Wonderful.

He lets himself get pent up, refusing to let you touch him. At first you worry that you've done something wrong, but he pats your head and says "Y/N, I'll handle it myself." When you look at him with those eyes he can't hide his hunger, and he caves.

Rough? No, he's just passionate. He can't always say how he feels but he knows how to show it. Fingers intertwined with yours, tongues tangled as he stuffs you full. Part of why he lets himself get so pent up is because he loves how it feels releasing it all at once, the way you cry out and clench around him. He doesn't stop until he's fucked you silly, until his voice is static-less.

Rambles when he's close, from "Such a pretty thing, sucking me like this" to incoherent growls and grunts, he's vocal. When he's thrusting into you only his words are gentle, sweet praises like "Good, Good...you can take it~" echoing in your head as he holds it up by your hair.

He likes leaving bitemarks along your body but only where they can be seen. Good luck hiding the one on your wrist, and the one under your chin is exposed whenever you look up. Of course no one dares to mention it, but he gets a kick out of everyone knowing you're his- enemies and reputation be damned.

Like my writing? Check out my Ao3!! Reblogs appreciated!! I have an ongoing Alastor x Reader fic right now that updates weekly! This was actually a little warmup to get the writing going lol

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#wink writes 💗#alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #radio demon #hazbin #alastor the radio demon #alastor smut #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel

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lymtw · 2 months

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Toji loves taking you out to bars because he knows you can't hold your alcohol like he can. You're messy, and you gain an attitude that he almost never sees, but more importantly, you rely on him more than ever.

Toji laughs at the irritated expression you have on your face. "What are you looking at?" you ask, rolling your eyes as you look away from him. He doesn't take it to heart, instead smirking at the returning attitude in your tone. You've gone over your drinking limit, and he knows you wouldn't ever say that to him in your sober state. At least not like that.

"Your pretty ass, dummy," he responds. He watches you reach for your glass again, quickly intercepting your hand before you're able to grab it. He sees the confusion in your eyes as he moves the glass away from your reach. "That's enough for tonight, babe. Gotta get you home before you pass out on me."

You can barely hold yourself up. You lean most of your weight onto Toji as he walks both of you out of the bar. He knows this is no way to leave you alone tonight, so he decides to keep you at his apartment for the night. You're well acquainted with it, anyway. A surprise sleepover won't kill you.

"Where are we going, Toji?" You slur, watching him buckle you into the passenger seat.

"You'll recognize it when you see it," Toji says, flashing a smile before shutting your door.

He quickly makes his way to the other side, sitting in the driver's seat. He watches you rummage through his glove compartment, then the compartment between your seats. He has nothing to hide, so he doesn't stop you for a minute or so, but he knows you won't find anything in this state so he has to intervene. "Tell me what you're looking for."

His voice grabs your attention, making you stop. "Water. My mouth is dry, and I don't like the taste on my tongue," you mumble.

He reaches back into the pocket behind his seat and grabs a flask filled less than halfway with water. He twists the lid off and offers it to you. "Drink the rest."

"Mm-mm," you protest. "That's too much." You tip your head back and let the cool liquid soothe your throat. You thought you had drank more, but the water barely entered your mouth before you brought the flask back down in your lap.

"It's gonna make you feel better, ma. Just do it."

Your eyes roll every time your heavy eyes blink, but you genuinely mean the attitude behind your eye roll when you turn away from Toji and lean against the car door. The effects of the alcohol have you thinking he trying to boss you around, and you're not having it.

Toji scoffs, putting the lid in the cup holder. He reverses the car out of the parking spot, glancing at you once more before putting the car in drive. Your forehead is pressed against the window, and your arms hold the flask of water tight. You don't even notice when you doze off.

You woke up a couple times for a few seconds, turning towards Toji with wide, red eyes. He cracked up each time, but calmly told you to go back to sleep. One of the times, you took his hand and put it on your thigh before turning towards the car door again. His hand was warm, and rough, just... Toji. He didn't pull it away unless he had to make a turn, but it would go back to its place immediately after.

Twenty minutes later, you arrived near Toji's apartment. He pulled into his assigned parking spot, a bold 723 on the curb, the same as his apartment number. He turns the car off and unbuckles himself. He exits the car and makes his way to the passenger side. You weren't leaning on the door anymore, so Toji opened it.

"Baby, we're here." He nudges your shoulder, gently. Your eyes open, heavy as you look around. Your hand comes up to rub your eye and the flask of water tips over, spilling onto your shirt and the crotch area of your pants. You gasp, watching Toji grab the flask before all the water spills out. "It's all good, mama. It's just water," he says, noticing the shift to worry in your tired face.

"I'm sorry... I didn't..." you slur, feeling a lump in your throat. "Toji, I'm sorry. It's not pee, I swear."

He suppresses the smile fighting to show on his lips. He can't bring himself to laugh when you have the saddest eyes he's ever seen. They have a glint when he looks into them, so he knows you're holding back tears.

"I know, doll. I believe you. Let's get you into some dry clothes, yeah?"

"Okay," you say, to yourself. You sigh. "So hard to move," you mumble. You use all the strength you have to get your legs out of the car and onto the ground. It was an almost impossible task when you felt like the world was moving so fast. Every movement you made felt like you were dragging yourself in that direction more than necessary. You felt so heavy. "I won't make it," you say, looking up at Toji with watery eyes.

"Wanna hop on my back?"

"You're older than me. Don't wanna break your back." You wipe away a single fleeing tear.

Now that made Toji chuckle. He would have to remind you of it in the daytime.

"Don't worry about it. You're featherlight, baby." He turns around and crouches in front of you. You give in since he's already in position. Again, you put in all your effort to push yourself forward. Your chest lands on his back, your arms lazily draped over his shoulders.

"Hold on tight, or you'll slip." He helps you by pulling your thighs around his waist, a strong grip to hold you in place. Your arms apply a little more pressure around his neck. He genuinely lifted you like you were featherlight, not even groaning as he pushed himself up and out of the crouched position. He leaves the flask on the seat, not covered, trusting that it won't fall over. The door is shut and the car is locked before he carries you to his apartment.

He can hear your breaths against his ear, finding that you dozed off again. He unlocks the door, and leads you inside his home. The door is locked behind him, and he flicks on the living room light. He takes you to his bed, setting you down so he can grab some clothes for you.

He goes into his drawers and fishes out one of his shirts. His clothes don't fit you, but you're in no position to reject them.

"Sit up, ma," he says, walking towards you with one of his black shirts. The bed sinks with his added weight. "Don't have any bottoms for you, but you can still take your pants off if you want to let them dry."

You nod, not wanting to think for yourself anymore. Toji is sober, he knows best for now.

"Arms up," he instructs, grabbing the hem of your shirt and pulling it off of you. "You wanna keep the bra on?"

You shake your head. Sleeping with a cold chest doesn't sound comfortable at all, so you let him unclip your bra and take it off. You quickly cover your exposed breasts. Regardless of how many times Toji has seen you naked, he doesn't protest your choice to cover yourself. Instead, he puts the shirt over your head and pulls it down your body. You release your breasts and put your arms through the armholes. You unbutton your jeans and kick them off, pulling the shirt down after to cover your upper thighs.

"Better?" He asks when your movements still. He receives a closed-eyed nod for a response. "'Kay, i'll be right back. Don't get out of bed." He squeezes your arm and rises off the bed.

He's gone for less than a minute, returning with a couple pills and a glass of water in hand. You'll wake up wanting these things, badly, so he'll save you the painful morning.

He dresses down and prepares himself for bed. He comes back to find that you're on his side of the bed. It would be a struggle to get you to move, so he'll accomodate for you, this time. He pulls you onto your side, facing him. If you blow chunks, you won't choke and die because of your position. Some might make it onto him, but that's a risk he's willing to take if it means you'll be fine.

You look cute in his enormous shirt. You don't normally wear it in circumstances like these where you're defenseless, but it suits you either way.

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foxy-eva · 9 months

Text

Stress Relief

Summary: When Reader complains about back pain, Spencer offers a massage. Things escalate.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: (18+, minors DNI) a little bit of awkwardness, massages, implied hand kink, heavy kissing, fingering, handjob, unprotected penetrative sex

Word Count: 3k

Masterlist

It wasn't the first time your team had to double up in a hotel while working on a case but you had never ended up being paired with your favorite coworker before. When you stepped into the room after a long day of trying to save lives, you suddenly realized something.

Spencer was right behind you when he saw it too, mumbling an almost inaudible, "Oh."

Oh.

There was only one bed.

The receptionist had already let you know that they were completely overbooked, so switching to a different room was no option.

Spencer was quick to offer solutions as he started rambling, "I know Morgan said he wouldn't share a room with me but maybe he'll change his mind if I explain this to him?"

"Don't you think it's more likely he'll tease us? Besides, that would leave me with Hotch and I'd rather share a bed with you than with my boss."

Spencer shrugged and mumbled, "I always liked to double up with Emily. I wonder why she insisted on sharing a room with JJ."

You looked at him with raised eyebrows and a smirk on your face. "Yeah, who knows!"

You did know but Spencer was as oblivious as ever. If he was really that bad at seeing what was right in front of him, there was at least a chance that he hadn't yet caught onto your feelings for him either. You really hoped that tonight any improper thoughts you had would be drowned out by the exhaustion slowly taking over your body.

"I can sleep on the floor," Spencer voiced his final offer.

You shook your head in protest. "The bed is big enough for the both of us."

With that it was settled, you were going to share a bed with the man who had been occupying your mind an almost embarrassing amount. Spencer, however, had never once shown any signs that he reciprocated your growing feelings for him. So instead of addressing them, you decided to simply suffer in silence until they'd pass.

When he stepped into the bathroom to get ready for the night, you couldn't stop your mind from racing to fantasies far from being appropriate. It didn't help to hear him turning on the shower because now all you could think about was tearing your own clothes off to join him. Somehow you managed to keep your composure - for now at least.

Spencer looked absolutely adorable with his washed-out Caltech shirt and checkered pajama pants, so much so that you took several seconds to blatantly stare at him when he came back into the room. It caused him to look down at his body to make sure that everything was in place.

“Sorry, you just look really… cute like that,” you muttered to help with his confused look.

A slight rosy shade spread over his cheeks at your compliment and he looked at you as if he wasn’t quite sure if you were making fun of him. But of course your words were genuine.

As you gathered your things to go take a shower yourself, you snickered, “It’s a shame that outfit probably wouldn’t pass the FBI dress code.”

He took a book out of his bag and sat down on one side of the bed, chuckling, “Yeah, it definitely would not pass.”

The shower helped clear your mind and you were positive that you’d be able to go to sleep without any other distractions. As you approached the bed in your usual nightwear - a tanktop and some colorful shorts - it became obvious that Spencer was even worse at hiding his staring than you were.

“It’s weird, right?” You asked as you sat down on the bed. “Seeing each other in casual clothes, I mean.”

Without saying a word he just nodded before focussing back on his book again. As you leaned against the headboard of the bed you noticed something that had been bothering you all day. Your back was aching and your shoulders were painfully tense. You stretched your arms over your shoulders before you reached back to massage some tender spots on your neck.

“You okay?” Spencer asked as he turned his head to watch you.

“Yeah, it’s just my back pain. I slept weird last night and I have been sitting at my desk too much those past few days,” you explained.

To your surprise, he offered, “Maybe I could help?”

Before you could consider what feeling his hands against your body would do to you, you replied, “Yeah, that would be nice, actually.”

You readjusted your position until you sat cross-legged on the bed with your back facing your roommate for the night. Spencer set aside his book and sat behind you, tentatively putting his palms on your shoulders. The heat his body radiated entered your body and lit a spark inside you that you desperately tried to ignore.

When he began pressing his fingertips into the tense muscles of your shoulders and neck, you instantly became pliable under his touch. The places he touched were innocent but that didn’t change the fact that a familiar warmth spread through your body and collected in your center.

There was no way to hold back the shy moan from falling from your lips when he found a particularly tender spot.

He halted his motions to ask, “Did I hurt you?”

“No, it just feels really good,” you breathed.

“That’s nice to hear,” he cooed in the softest tone you’d ever heard from him. “You deserve to feel good.”

Those last couple of words echoed in your mind before you could grasp what they meant. It was that moment that you asked yourself if the innocent and shy Spencer Reid was trying to flirt with you.

To distract yourself, you decided to talk to him - unaware what colossal mistake that was going to be.

“So, where did you learn how to give back rubs?”

Nonchalantly as ever, he responded, “I read a book about it a few years ago.”

“You read a book about massages?”

The breath he let out at your question tickled the skin of your shoulders and you broke out in goosebumps. You hoped that he wouldn’t notice.

“Well, it was about tantric practices and there was a very interesting chapter about… uhm… full-body massages,” he explained, not helping with your current situation at all.

It was getting almost impossible for you to form coherent sentences, even more so when Spencer continued talking.

“Are you interested in that?”

Almost jumping at his words, you blurted out, “In getting a full-body massage?!”

“No!” Spencer laughed. “In reading the book!”

Before you could respond, you felt his hands wander down your back, lightly rubbing over your shirt. It was getting harder to focus with every second passing, too overwhelming became the need to feel more of him.

“I’ll think about it,” you finally responded.

Spencer’s fingertips brushed over your lower back, way too lightly to find any tight spots and you were wondering if he was trying to tease you at this point.

His words brought you back to reality. “I can continue with my massage if you want but uhm.. your shirt is getting in the way.”

Without thinking about it, you stated, “I’m not wearing a bra.”

“I know,” Spencer chuckled. “I won’t look, I promise. Just lay down on your stomach.”

The feeling of his hands on your body had left your skin tingling and you were yearning to feel it again. So without questioning his intentions or making sure his eyes were really closed, you took off your top and lay down on the mattress. Spencer kneeled beside you and began working his skilled fingers over your entire back.

Any tightness from tired muscles slowly left your body but you felt another kind of tension growing in your core. When Spencer grazed the waistband of your shorts with his fingertips, a sigh escaped your throat. He didn’t say anything, instead he kept massaging you until there was no patch of skin on your back left unattended to.

The second time he brushed over your waistband gave away that he was doing it on purpose. For a moment you thought that he might slip his hands right beneath it to descend further down your body. That thought caused you to unwillingly press your thighs tightly together to soothe the aching between your legs.

Spencer must have noticed it, too, because he audibly let out a breath right at that moment. His hands were still on your back when a quiet moan left your mouth and you noticed that your hips had started moving ever so slightly, desperate to find some friction. You weren’t sure if Spencer had been watching you doing that until you halted those tiny motions.

“Don’t stop,” he purred. “You look so pretty like this.”

You turned your head enough to see him from the corners of your eyes. The hardness straining against his pajama pants was impossible to ignore but even more intriguing was the smirk spread over his face. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were dark and filled with lust. Seeing him like this suddenly let any restraint you had left vanish.

“Please, Spencer,” you begged him to keep going.

One of his hands found the side of your face to brush a strand of hair aside. He leaned down to place a soft kiss on your heated cheek before he whispered, “Tell me exactly what you want.”

Spencer’s hands were all you could think about. Every fiber of your body was longing for him and you felt like you might combust if he didn’t grant you relief anytime soon.

“Please continue and… go lower.”

In an instant his hands were on your backside, greedily grabbing your soft flesh through your shorts.

“Like that?” Spencer groaned.

You tilted your hips to press your butt against his hands and slowly opened your thighs before you whimpered, “Lower.”

As his fingertips wandered over your thighs you felt how your arousal began soaking through the fabric of your panties. His hands dared to move underneath your shorts, grazing along the apex of your thigh. It was not enough to soothe your aching but enough to drive you wild.

You moaned out his name before whining, “Take them off, please.”

“You’re so cute when you get all desperate,” he chuckled in response.

There was no more teasing then. When he finally grabbed the waistband of your shorts, you immediately lifted your hips so he could pull them down together with your panties. He reached between your thighs to finally touch you where you were burning for him.

The realization of how aroused you were let a groan escape his mouth. His fingertips glided through your folds before focussing on your most sensitive spot while he purred, "You're so fucking wet."

It was the first time you had ever heard him use a curse word, the sound of such crude language shooting through you like lightning. All your senses were on edge, you couldn't think about anything else but him.

The sensation of his fingers moving over your sensitive pearl was somehow too much and not enough at the same time. You hadn't realized that you were grinding your hips against his hand until his words brought you back to reality for a moment.

"You deserve to feel so, so good. Let me take care of you."

At that you point you weren't even sure what you were begging for when an almost silent "Please," made it past your lips. Spencer, however, seemed to understand. He let two of his digits enter you, finding no resistance from your body. As soon as you felt him inside you, you couldn't help but clench around him.

Slowly he began working his fingers against tight muscles at an angle that made you almost lose your mind. There was no more holding back the sounds of pleasure falling from your lips, so you buried your face into the pillow to muffle your moans.

You felt Spencer's free hand brushing over your hair while he whispered, "Don't hide those sounds from me. I want to hear you."

With that you turned your head to the side again, just enough to be able to see his beautiful face. His smile was too much for you to handle, so you decided to close your eyes instead.

The room filled with your moans and mewls and the sound of his hand relentlessly moving against your wet center. Within just a few minutes you were dancing along the edge of euphoria. Spencer noticed that, too.

"You're doing so good," he praised you. "Let go for me, sweet girl."

You felt him moving over your swollen nub one more time before your body began to tremble beneath him. He helped you ride out your high with a few more skillful motions before he lay down right beside you.

When he found your eyes, he whispered, "You okay?"

Instead of answering him, you grabbed his wrist to bring his fingers to your lips. They were still coated with your essence when you took them in your mouth to suck them clean. Spencer stared at you in disbelief, almost as if he was witnessing some kind of miracle.

You could still taste yourself on your tongue when you found his lips in a hungry kiss. He didn't waste any time to reciprocate your enthusiasm, his tongue meeting yours as the two of you melted into one another. There was no space allowed between the two of you, with your chest pressed hard enough against his you could feel his accelerated heartbeat.

His palms began wandering over your exposed skin as if he'd never have enough of touching you. Your hand became curious as well, moving underneath the hem of his shirt to finally feel him without any barrier. It wasn't enough though, you needed all of him.

With joined forces you rid him of his clothes and took a moment to take in the beauty of the man in front of you. As your eyes locked once more you found the sweetest smile spread over his face.

"You're so pretty," you breathed before kissing him again.

"And you're so beautiful," he mumbled against your lips.

His hardness was pressed firmly against your thigh and you could already feel the tip leaking onto your skin. A sneaky hand found its way between your bodies to touch him. Your fingertips found soft curls at the base of him before wrapping around his shaft. He felt hot and heavy in your palm and you noticed him twitching when you began moving your hand.

Spencer gasped into your mouth once you reached his tip and his whole body quivered when you let your thumb swipe over it. Your kiss was interrupted by him panting against your face as you sped up your motions.

"Look at who is getting desperate now," you teased him.

He already seemed lost in the pleasure when he whimpered, "Feels so good."

Your hand left his erection to push against his shoulder until he was lying on his back while you snickered, "You know what would feel even better?"

As you began straddling his hips, Spencer's hands flew to your waist.

He still needed reassurance before he let you continue. "Are you sure about this?"

You nodded and promised, “I want you Spencer.”

"I want you, too. More than you can imagine."

With your hand around his cock you lifted your hips to guide him to your entrance. As you sank down on him, Spencer moaned out your name. You took your time, relishing the sensation of him slowly stretching you open. Once he was fully inside, you could feel his heartbeat deep within you.

As you began grinding your hips against him, his hands moved from your waist to your breasts to caress your soft curves.

“You have no idea how long I have wanted you,” Spencer sighed.

You leaned down to find him in a kiss before you whispered against his mouth, "You have me now. I'm yours."

His hips began moving in perfect synchronicity with yours as you chased the sweet relief together. When you began moving faster, Spencer suddenly gripped your hips to halt your motions.

"I'm so close. Slow down," he whined with desperation clearly audible in his voice.

That didn't slow you down, though. Instead you purred, "Me, too," and kept going. Spencer threw his head back into the pillows and sang your praise in the form of his moans. You tried to hold on just a little bit longer, not to torture him but because you didn't want it to end yet.

When one of his hands descended from your hip to where your bodies were joined, you knew that it wouldn't be long now. He began drawing small circles with his thumb around your little bud, throwing you over the edge within a few seconds. Once he felt your walls pulsing around him, he let go himself.

Each of your twitches was answered by him throbbing inside you, sharing his essence with you until he had nothing left to give. Spencer welcomed you inside his arms as you collapsed on top of him with a racing heart and lungs longing for air.

You stayed connected for as long as physically possible but once he was soft, you felt him slowly slipping out of you together with the mixed evidence of your shared desire. Spencer insisted on helping you clean up the mess between your legs and was quick to get a damp towel from the bathroom.

Watching him carefully rid you of any remaining stickiness somehow felt even more intimate than anything you had done before. Neither of you bothered to put clothes back on, instead you cuddled up under the comforter together to savor the sensation of having each other near.

When you thought back to what led you into Spencer's arms earlier tonight, you couldn't hold back your giggles.

"Maybe I should read that book you mentioned."

"You can, if you want," Spencer chuckled before he began kissing along your neck. When he found your ear, he whispered, "I'd much rather show you everything it says, though."

Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @justreadingficsdontmindme @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @pauline5525mgg @sanaz1dlol @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @beepbooptoop @lovejules888 @liltimmyst @encyclo-reid-ia @lilibet261 @fandomstuffff @spencer-reid-wonderland @happymangospot @conniesanchor @reaux02 @ellamaianderson @cynbx @dashneydanger @melifluorei-d @bitchassbecky691 @iameternallylonely @hotchandspencearedilfs @kobaltdragon @amititties @castiels-majestic-wings @torigorie @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @reidtopia @velvetthunder93 @cncoxlifeline @jordie-gvf-admin @saturnstringz @missabsey @spencerslove @guacam011y @whoopdy-doo @hugyourlungs

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds smut

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lovifie · 3 months

Text

Simon Riley whose favourite hair was always yours.

The first time he touched your hair, you were both deployed. You were walking before him, your hair in a braid behind your head that was almost hypnotizing. You stick your head from behind a wall, and Simon pulls your braid the moment he hears gunshots to keep you away from the fire line. A whine escapes your lips that sounds almost like a kicked dog and you quickly look back to him. "Thank you, Lt." You mutter.

And in that moment, with your hair still in his hand, he knew he was in trouble.

Your hair doesn't glow in the dark, yet it always draws his attention. Like a lifesaver floating in an ocean. He quickly learns that he can't wait to touch it again, so he observes and waits for a chance to do so.

Like when you were rewriting a report on the mess hall, Price told you it was illegible and taking in consideration Price's handwriting you took it to heart. So there you were, writing again the pages with your best handwriting.

A lock of hair in the middle of your face had Simon almost sprinting to you to move it out of your face before you could it yourself. Of course he didn't say anything romantic, instead he said: "You are gonna go blind like that, and you are supposed to watch my back out there."

It wasn't romantic on its own, but his hand remained caressing the hair now behind your ear and when you looked up to meet his gaze, the both of you pulled away from each other as if you had been hit. "That line is dropping, start it again." He comments. "Yes, Lt."

On another occasion, you got late to practice, overslept. Obviously by your bed hair, not even time to brush it. Price quickly told you to fix it and Simon seriously considered if the insubordination would be worth it, because he would rip both his arms off if he could wake up everyday with that sight.

It was at that point that Simon realized he was doomed, because he had not been slowly pulled to you, he fell face first and being honest to himself, he was happy with it. He wouldn't admit it yet, it was easier to believe he only liked your hair.

And as time went on, it became more and more easy to find excuses to touch it.

Like when you got sick that one time, waking in the middle of the night to empty your stomach on the toilet. And it went on until the morning, when he found you sitting on the bathroom floor, too weak to walk back to your room.

Face wet with tears for not being able to stop throwing up, for being tired and for feeling useless. He quickly crouched down, paper towel in hand to clean your face. "Why are you here?" He softly asked, mask hiding his expression but his eyes gave away his emotions.

"I got sick." You mumbled, voice hoarse with the strain of the night.

"That I can tell, love." The nickname caught the both of you by surprise, but neither complained. "Let's get you to bed."

You nod, grabbing his hand to stand up, before another round of nausea hit forcing you to back down to throw up again. He quickly moved your hair out of the way grabbing it at the back of your head. "You are gonna get sick, Ghost. Leave me alone, I'm fine."

"Number one, I'm pretty sure your dinner from last night it's on my hand, so I believe we are past nicknames now." He says, being interrupted before being able to say the second thing.

"Don't touch my hair with puke on your hand!" You say grabbing his wrist, making him chuckle. You barely had energy to pull your head up and still tried to fight him.

"I would never, love. That's the other hand." He said looking as you wiped your mouth, breath getting knock out of him when you lock your gaze on his. "What is it?" You asked, confusing him. "Your name."

"Simon."

"Simon?"

"Simon Riley."

A beat of silence simmered on the bathroom for a second.

"That's a surprisingly sweet name, Simon."

And if the world had ended at that moment, Simon would have died a happy man.

But he didn't, instead he eased his way into your heart.

It wasn't hard, and soon enough Simon didn't need excuses to touch your hair. And touching your hair was the excuse to get you closer to him.

Like when he was dying to kiss your lips, but you wouldn't look up to him. Why wouldn't you look at him? Couldn't you tell it was killing him? So he fisted your hair, pulling back slightly; enough to make you look up but not enough to sting. And when his eyes met yours, he dived right into your lips. Moving his hands to cup your face instead of hair, needing to feel the warmth of your skin. The kiss pulling the air from his lung but still making him feel more alive than ever.

Or like when you finally had the time and intimacy to make love. And when he had you on his bed, knees apart and face buried on his pillow, he fisted your hair again, pulling your head back, because he needed to hear you moan his name while he filled you to the brim. Simon Riley was not a saint, but he would go through the hell his life has been again if it meant he got to experience this. Your cunt milking his dick, your smaller hand grabbing the wrist of his hand on your hip, your moans filling the room and when you looked back to him over your shoulder, his life got meaning and he kissed your lips.

Or like when you would cuddle, and he would do tiny braids on your hair he would forget to undo or tell you about and you would find out hours later when you would try to brush your hair and end up with massive knots. Walking to him ready to throw the brush at his head and you would find him hugging your pillow on his sleep, completely relax and content with himself.

Or like when years later, he brushed the hair sticking to your forehead by the sweat while you pushed his daughter to life. If he could take the pain away he would, but he knew you were the strongest woman in this world and could do it. He also knew you needed his comfort, so he moved his hand from your hair to grab your hand even if you crushed every bone inside.

Your hair was always his favourite, until your daughter was born. Because she had Simon's eyes, but she had your hair. And your hair was beautiful, but his little girl's hair was the proof of the love between Simon and you.

Simon Riley loved your hair, but he loved you more.

Masterlist

Hii🩷

Accept this as an apology for the pain from Inmortal!Simon, hope that you guys like it ♥️♥️

Also I barely proof read it, so if there are any misspelled words, no there isn't ♥️🫡

If there is anything that you would like me to write my inbox is always open for request and asks ♥️

P-Taglist: @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @dumb12bvtch1212 @thatonepupkai @glocuseguardian3rd @Nothankyew @darkangel4121 @risingofjupiter

Link to join the permanent taglist on the masterlist

#call of duty #ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod x reader #cod #ghost cod #simon riley imagine #cod smut #ghost smut #call of duty x reader #cod modern warfare #simon imagine #ghost imagine #simon ghost imagine

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eddiemunsons-missingnipple · 4 months

Note

LISTEN. HEAR ME OUT. eddie and Best friend!reader petty arguing, right, so reader says 'ooh you wanna kiss me soooo bad' and he does.

Hear ME OUT!!

What about we sprinkle in some jealous!Eddie too give it the ol'razzle dazzle.

Jealous! Eddie Munson x Bestfriend!reader

Warnings: fluff, some cursing, kissing that's about it.

Not proofread ignore mistakes.

Eddie has been in a pissy mood all damn week. He was short with you. He was snappy and just passive all around. The bottom line is that he was being a real asshole to you. You couldn't pinpoint exactly what made him this way. You chalked it up to him, barely getting any sleep. Maybe he cut back on smoking and is dealing with those withdrawals.

Doesn't matter at this point he was a dick and taking it out on you specifically. Ever since you went out on that date with his friend, Eddie has been insufferable. Little did you know that's the exact reason he's been moody with you.

He was jealous. You were his, and he had to watch his friend pick you up for a date. He sat in his room thinking about his friend kissing you. His friend holding your hand, and God knows what else you two did on your date together.

But you've had about enough of his attitude. You were sitting on his bed flipping through his heavy metal magazine while he tuned up his guitar.

"Hey, eddie, can you turn on the tv?" You looked before turning another page. You weren't even reading the comic. You were more interested in the artwork than anything the plot.

"Turn it on your damn self." He already sounded aggravated with you. "And stop turning those damn pages like that you'll rip them."

He rolled his eyes and turned his chair to face more away from you.

You huffed immediately, getting fed with him now." Alright, what hell is your problem?"

You slammed down his magazine, crossing your arms over your chest. You felt your face heating from the anger rising inside of you. You've dealt with his mood swings before, but that's because they were never directly pointed at you. Not until recently.

"I don't have a problem." He shrugged, still refusing to face you.

"Oh yes, you do. You've been a complete douche all week."

He smirked and finally turned around. "I've been a douche? Me? Maybe I wouldn't be such a douche if you weren't so fucking annoying."

"I'm not annoying!" You defended yourself, raising your voice slightly.

"Oh, but yes, you are. All you do is yap all day long, and I gotta listen to it." Eddie, let out a condescending laugh after you argued back with him.

You squinted your eyes, "Yeah, well, at least I'm not walking around with a stick up my ass."

You could hear him growl something under his breath. His lips were pressed in a tight line.

"You're right. I do have a stick up my ass. How about you get your ass up and turn on the TV because my ass is currently busy with a stick rammed up it." His voice was dripping with sarcasm while bickering back and forth with you.

You rolled your eyes and got up off his bed to turn on the TV. You messed with the volume until it was as high as it could go. You were purposely trying to press his buttons. You wanted a reaction out of him. You wanted that last word, and you were going to get it. He couldn't hear himself think or focus on what he was currently doing.

Eddie jumps up from his chair and turns down the TV. You just stay standing there, twisting the nob to it turn back up. You're both staring each other down in the process.

"You're bein- he went to speak, but you raised the volume up again, cutting him off.

Eddie let a deep breath and turned the tv back down once more. His face is all red, and sets his guitar back against his dresser. "You're being reeeeeally petty right now. I'm trying to tune up my guitar."

"Yeah?...so?" You slowly turn the TV up again with your eyes locked onto his.

His jaw tightens, and his nostrils flare. You decided to mess with him. You wanted to rile him up some more. He rubbed his hands down his face.

You watched him closely, and a little idea sparked in your head. You don't know what really came over you. Probably, his attitude with you has finally made you lose your mind or something.

"Ooh, you wanna kiss me sooo bad right now, huh?" You taunted him.

There was always this unspoken crush between the two of you that was mutual. You were being mean, and you didn't care. You were past your limit right now. You wanted to get under his skin, and it was working.

He doesn't say anything he just looks at you. He steps closer, leaving very little room between the two of you. Without any warning, his lips came crashing down into yours. His hands go up to hold both sides of your face gently. His soft lips locked with yours as his tongue slipped past them.

The kiss was sloppy but passionate. He didn't care if your teeth clashed a little bit. He needed to do this. You felt light-headed while your tongues fought for dominance. Your face felt all tingly, and your hands moved up to grip onto his forearms. Only a few seconds have passed, but it felt like hours. Time stood still as you made out with your best friend in his bedroom.

He let go of your face and moved his lips slowly away from you. He had a smug expression on his face. Your eyes flutter back open, and you swallow. You're breathing heavy, and you don't know if it's from the kiss or from the fight you and Eddie were getting into. Or a combination of both.

"Why have you been so mean to me all week?" You whispered your fingers, move up to trace over your own lips. You could still feel traces of him on your mouth.

Eddie looked at you and with a sad smile. "I couldn't get over the fact that you went on date with my friend Cody."

Your eyebrows raised. "You-- You were jealous of Cody?" You were in disbelief. Here you thought he was just annoyed being around you.

You couldn't believe he would be so irritated over that date. It was one date, and you were miserable. Plus, it's not like you haven't seen him take home his fare share of women from the bar.

Those nights where he would be out with a made you feel sick to your stomach. But you never once took it out on him like this. You shake those thoughts and try to listen and understand where he is coming from. Right now, it's about him, not you. He was never good at expressing his feelings, and because of that, he was more prone to lashing out.

"Well, yeah, just the mere thought of him being so close to you really upset me. I know I've been a dick but I just couldn't help it." He plopped back down in his chair.

You moved to sit at the edge of his bed. Your legs felt like they were going to give out after kissing him.

"Why didn't you say something?" You sighed and picked at your chipped nail polish.

"I don't know.. I don't want to mess up what we have." He gestured between the two of you. His voice was a lot softer now than is has been all week.

You nodded and understood why he felt like he couldn't express his feelings. "Can you kiss me again?"

Eddie's eyes dart up, and he looks a little surprised. "Can i?"

You couldn't have actually wanted to kiss him again? He thought to himself. He was already feeling guilty for just happened. He felt his heart start to race again.

You smiled and nodded, "I wish you would have kissed me sooner."

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