#like he had issues to work through fr | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

unproduciblesmackdown · 1 year

Text

fascinating lens on taylor's goings on in s6 there re: Romance. epic win that they have rian turn them down but i'm also really not sure why they did. oh you know, rian who's always defined by being so prudent [montage of actually pretty much everything seemingly defining rian has been pretty anti prudent] like ok w/e

but we start out with taylor Particularly Unmotivated By Work and instead watching a The Bachelor beach proposal which involves extasis through this Reality(tm) pastiche of romance. i am assuming. wherein the journey Ends with this transcendent all-consuming joy upon the realization of said Romance for one contestant. then when their somehow still bestie mafee (relevant tangents about how all taylor's relationships seem to involve their having an approach where they have low standards like "well but i guess this is all i can get / expect" including that they can't even necessarily expect shit they like/enjoy/are at all supported by, while readily accepting whatever blame/reproach from others) is like "gee but are you really happy" they're apparently inspired to pursue happiness by pursuing romance. which they seem to consider is possible only through rian, intriguing here when the entire basis of their dynamic seems to be [trapped in work hell together] like boy we have nothing outside our jobs? i sure hope we can be Everything to each other then :) and how it's even more baffling that rian is completely unbaffled by this development when you might operate on some assumptions like "you should have ever seemed to enjoy any interactions you've ever had" to consider choosing more vulnerability and more time / effort spent on this relationship, and "you also don't need to have Found Fault with someone / otherwise have some grievances or dislike of them to not want to date them" especially if rian's apparent sense of responsibility for taylor's theoretical negative feelings about rejection supposedly doesn't involve thinking about any power dynamics, she just feels the need to repeatedly reassure them she'd actually Love to date or have sex but she's just so set on not dating through work, b/c of the complications, that she's never considered not having casual sex with bosses and also never mentioned this stance to turn down winston nor done anything but revel in how he might feel about even being rejected as a conversational partner. too prudent to mention it. certainly also a relevant matter that it Need Not Be Explained to anyone that winston for one is excluded as a potential Romantic partner for pretty much everyone i guess. whilest as this potential mirror to taylor, he's not only considering specifically rian w/"we're similar; let's hang out; i'd like to have sex maybe even" (though winston's sexuality, like his communicative capacities, is also simply Not Allowed) but also seems to be like "i guess this is all i can get / expect" or hanging on for a long time to the possibility of Otherwise at his own expense or taking blame / whatever pretty egregious treatment like. taylor being willing to talk to wendy still is akin to winston still being willing to talk to rian. though maybe that's changed by the end of s6; it'd be very warranted after the pretty make or break [rian & winston Share An Interest; hang out outside work about it] moment there and also after Everything Else on its own, just like how it'd be very warranted if taylor expecting Nothing Better from wendy could turn into their hardly being willing to interact

anyways, sure is fortunate for taylor (or is it???) that Work becomes more enriching for them suddenly, and through someone with whom they have this promising personal dynamic with, a Peer with whom, in fact, they do both seem to find reward in interacting with each other / want and choose to do so, imagine, while [reiterating for emphasis]: they are both finding reward in interacting and feeling Complementary rather than only seeing exactly themself in each other, while having this respect for each other and flexibility and knowing they don't Have to work together, and may not always be doing so.

but most to the point it sure is something that the season starts off with taylor being dissatisfied with their work situation and responding by not being at work and instead watching people be overjoyed about their (also, relevantly, Peak Normal Correct Cishet) romance, though they don't outright claim to straightforwardly enjoy this. then they Do outright claim to us repeatedly, if ever begrudgingly, that everything rian does is worthy &/or sympathetic (and totally comprehensible and consistent so as to believably retain any sense of Character....) while every time they interact, it's a business meeting and one or both of them is unhappy about some part of it. but then once taylor's asked to think about their happiness Beyond Work they apparently are simply motivated to go ask someone out, and it may as well be rian For Lack Of A Better Option really, but then there's the wrench of "for some reason rian is unsurprised and not at all put off by this, or even just somewhat confused" and "for some reason rian's like 'sorry but no. fr im soooo sorry'" with these perspectives of [happiness Outside Work = romance] and [someone deemed Objectively Worthy = you'd of course at least consider romance, or else you must think actually they're Unworthy in some way, or have some more general Reason you'd reject others categorically in just the same way] (rian rejecting winston for unworthiness so much that she doesn't even need to bother actually telling him as much; rejecting taylor for [i don't date through work] with followups to reassure them it's Not the unworthiness) (that on and off paper winston & taylor have no reason to not be kissing but i think we can assume that won't happen, b/c billions itself may also assume we understand that [winston is unworthy] is just true. &/or that anyone Worthy understands as much)

so hoping that taylor has Some kind of enriching lasting relationship with philip, truly, which was the hopes for winston and rian but the updated hope is his enriching lasting disengagement with rian, f

#winston billions #AND rian having some of the worst material re: sex billions has ever inflicted upon us. impressive. sorry to this character #(and like.................has she Not prior had casual sex through work while she's been willing to do so / hasn't had nights & weekends??)#that makes no sense either. it's for winston's sake i'm glad she hasn't tried to be fwb there #wouldn't it be fun if we got s7 genderfluid rian. but we won't. fr it's like....why'd we get this character at all lmao #would've made more sense if she left at the end of s6 too. while the best thing we've gotten is taylor getting to further distinguish #themself from axe in of course good ways. the associated [philip seems so much more like A Character than rian despite also being new]#difficult to work in ''rian would be abusive towards winston if they were dating b/c she Already Is as (sometimes) work friends'' when #another issue is that rian's material isn't really being Examined when every character can only remark abt how cool & correct she always is #ultimately; at least....taylor you caaan't actually be mad at rian; gotta be some Other issue you're having bad feelings about....#that winston being introduced so peripherally it was meant to be a oneoff & while (as viewed by other characters) being Incorrect and #Unsympathetic has created the conditions for someone who does end up w/this stronger sense of Being A Character #he's even autistic....while rian is adhd and hostile like ''at least i'm allistic and meritous''#like yes i Will talk to you more than others maybe but offscreen & i Will also be bullying you b/c i am willing to and i certainly can.#dunno what to say about winston and tuk b/c we've still seen so relatively little & idk what we'll get for winston in s7 #that it's will's updated foul play website bio that Confirms he'll be in s7 at all; but i'm still not supposing he'll def get more than an #episode or two or w/e. or i suppose he could be sent off & return; they're still in production mode over there after all #i would really doubt canon would give us that romance but it would be....i dunno. earthshaking really lol haven't given it the most thought #canon might also think that would be insulting to tuk or something....#or say As Much w/that continual threat of ''improving'' winston by making him Choose to be more normal now (:#everyone's always giving him the organic aba (abuse) either way but umm the Least you could do would be absorb it & Stop Bringing It Upon #Yourself....still supposing it's possible that their being Friends is considered to be dragging tuk back / dooming him to Loserdom #but as or more likely: he got to talk to tuk in the last ep to get him out of the way. it will never get focus #oh i went off track up there: finishing the thought to say i suppose it's assumed rian would not be shitty towards taylor like she would be #towards winston b/c they're Worthier; not supposedly inferior to her even as winston is considered to be #hence that rian Can give winston shit whenever she wants but just so happens to Not be that way towards anyone else. makes you think #mfw i run out of room writing on one page abt cam stone like ''i could've been more clearly relationship anarchist with it :(''

2 notes · View notes

chososdiscordkitten · 2 months

Text

Kneel.

Synopsis: pt 2 of this fic ^-^

Pairing: Priest!Nanami x Fem!Reader Content: pwp, not as much church stuff as the last one, lots of flirting, breaking church vows, nanami trying to justify his actions as permissible, lots of pleading to his god, hand stuff, rough (?) sex, cream pie, multiple orgasms

Taglist: @eliuriastwo @ingojo

MDNI

It plagued him. The severe tension ran thick every single Sunday after mass. Where you would sit in his office chair- this look of smugness on your expression with the corner of your lip curled as though you were aware of the torment you were inflicting onto him.

Insinuating conversations of the carnal sins you would confess to—barely even sins— just thoughts that plagued your mind unwillingly.

Middle of the third time he saw you- the way your eyes dared to sparkle as you confessed the so called disgusting thoughts to him. His mind started putting the pieces together.

“Cold showers aren’t working anymore, Father. I had to. I had to rid myself of the hellfire that burned in me.” Your lips bordered on smiling as you watched the Father lower his gaze.

He didn’t know when, but his index and thumb had started toying with the little fly of his zipper, flipping it up and down—something to keep his hands busy as you spoke.

“I know that must be a sin, isnt it father?” you placed your hands between your knees, leaning over in the slightest and exposing even more of the crevice of your chest to him. His eyes tried to avoid the tempting ploy.

Little wired glasses on the bridge of Nanami’s nose as his eyes betrayed him- Unwillingly, they flashed down to your breasts, catching himself and looking back up to your face.

You raised your eyebrows in the slightest, as though you had caught on to his urge to look.

Nanami cleared his throat, pulling off the little glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. “The Bible- says it is, yes. Against the sixth commandment-” Looking back to your expression that seemed even more unbothered than before.

“If it is a sin,” you whispered, pinching your eyebrows in question of the Father’s faith. “Then why does it help?”

Nanami cleared his throat for what seemed like the hundredth time in those 30 minutes. “God made us sexual creatures,” he mumbled, trying to make it sound as business-like as he could.

You let out a little giggle- something that sounded like a siren trying to lure him into a trap. “Then god made me too sexual.”

Nanami inhaled- taking a little swipe at his lip with the tip of his dry tongue, parting his lips and averting his gaze. “How…” he inhaled sharply, “How did it feel?” barely legible, but the words deepened your smirk into something crueler.

A sigh of contentment left your lips, “As though I had chipped away at the temptation in the slightest.” you took a deep inhale- the skin of your chest pressing against the edge of your low cut top and daring to spill.

“It felt so good, Father. Freeing almost.” You continued, seeing Nanami’s blush spread through his cheeks down his neck in the slightest.

The thought of how freeing it would feel had he acted as callously as you did in your own desires made the Father realize he needed a freezing shower by the time he went home. He couldn’t give in as quickly as you did.

His hand halted the little flipping movement on his zipper. Gulping in the slightest and leaning back into his chair- “And your prayers… didn’t help?” trying to change the daring topic he had brought on.

“If I could be honest, father?” you sat up, pushing your shoulders back and lightly tilting your neck. Collarbones exposed to his nervous eyes with that same self-satisfied smile on your painted lips.

“Please, be honest.”

“I think my prayers have caused the opposite effect.”

Nanami nodded softly, thinking up something else to offer you besides the strained words he practically forced himself to say.

“Maybe a place in the community?” he asks, thinking that if you and he try to debrief these issues, you’ll get nowhere but a very frustrated priest who just wants to ‘help’.

He inhaled sharply, opening a little drawer in his desk and reaching for a flier, “Next Sunday, we’re having an Easter event for the children- you could find your place in our community.”

Placing the little flier onto the wood in front of you, your eyes scanning the colorful sheet with a half cocked smile. “Help serve the food, or just stay for a while. You’re welcome to it.”

And the following Sunday, you showed up bright and early, sitting through Easter Sunday mass. Noticing that, compared to other times, the Father wore a black short-sleeved dress shirt this time.

He excused it because he knew it would be hot that day and was getting ahead of an issue before it arose.

“Excuse me for being so indecent today,” he joked in front of the congregation before continuing his sermon.

But the little flexes of Nanami’s bicep strained against the tight sleeve of the shirt when he grasped the side of the podium. Or how, with every inhale, his plentiful chest would press against the buttons of the black shirt in strain.

It made that Sunday even more special. His arms were exposed, and how that shirt was at least a size too small for the man. Tempting. It made you wonder if it was you trying to lure in the tortured man or the other way around.

And when the service ended- a few stolen glances and raised brows at the stumbling of his words before all the church people gathered at the back of the building. A patch of grass and a few tables covered in colorful plastic tablecloths.

You did as he asked, served the children and the churchgoers food and waited for them to start their hunt for plastic eggs. And your effort didn’t go unnoticed; the Father would look over every now and then to see you happily serving the people of the church. Glad to see you enjoying yourself.

As though his attempt to help you was finally working- maybe all you needed was community and congregation to rid yourself of the shameless confessions you’ve made in his office.

But you- now standing on one end of the grass patch, derived from any sort of community the Father thought you were participating in.

Though it didn’t bother you, making friends with bitter church women was neither your task nor the conquest you sought.

But when your eyes caught the Father excusing himself from a few people of his parish- dashing into the church’s back entrance- you chose to follow.

Placing the little cup of lemonade onto the table before walking past the doors the Father had dashed past. Following him to the little cracked door of his office, hearing the light shuffling of papers.

You knocked twice- pushing the door open to see the Father jump at the sudden noise and the sight of you at his doorstep.

“You haven’t said a word to me, Father.” you thrummed, stepping into his office and closing the door behind you. Be it the general conquest or how delectable he looked in that tight short sleeve, you wanted to push even further this time.

He let out a little sigh with a smile, “You’ll have to excuse me- today has been very laboring.” his brows furrowed with stern eyes looking for the pages he swore he left at the very top of a stack of paper.

“Anything I could do to help?” taking on a sweet tone as you stepped closer to him.

Nanami let out a little laugh, almost in disbelief. “You’ve done more than enough to help today,” he said, his shoulders stiff from your presence standing at his side.

“I couldn’t ask for more,” he whispered, feeling your eyes pierce through him as he moved the stack of papers- the cotton around his bicep suffering from the flex of his arms.

Looking down at his hands. Spreading the papers, tantalizing thick fingers with a prominent vein standing proud at the top of his hand. Swallowing lightly at the image in your mind.

“I want to help, Father. Tell me how I can assist you.” reaching down to the top of his hand and placing yours atop his- halting its movements and causing Nanami to look over at you as though you were deranged.

Nanami parted his lips- derailing his train of thought entirely from the seemingly innocent touch. “What are you looking for?” you murmured, lightly caressing your thumb against his skin.

The first thing that popped into his mind was nowhere near priestly or godly. But he gathered his thoughts and mustered the words.

“The choir-” he inhaled a choked breath, “They need the lyrics for the service on Wednesday,” he whispered, looking at your low eyes with your hand still atop his.

“Your parish made you leave an event to look for song lyrics?” you teased- as though that was some lame excuse he made up on the spot.

Nanami let out a little laugh, pulling his hand from beneath yours and going back to looking for the pages again. “I know,” he mumbled, but you weren’t quite done urging you to be there to help.

You placed your hand over his again, looking at him with all the earnesty you could muster. “You are such a good priest, father.” picking up his hand from the desk and holding it in both of yours. “If you need help-” and there went the corner of your lip curling with sadistic intent.

“You can ask for it.” you assured, caressing his hand lightly as his lips parted with an inhale, “You can ask me for it.”

His heart was pounding in his chest—the words themselves weren’t filthy. Were they spoken by anyone else, it would’ve been heard as a simple offer.

But the honey soaked in the way you said it- the sparkle in your eye and the tenderness in which you held his hand. Nanami knew you were not offering an innocent way of assisting him.

Nanami felt it in his gut. It made his mind fuzzy- made him unable to think coherently.

It made him forget the white collar around his neck, the years he had spent as a priest and at the center of a church, and his vows—and for the first time in a very long time, his mind wasn’t judging the thoughts that raced inside of it.

You took a step closer to him—just one step and your chest was mere inches from his. His eyes flashed from your half-lidded ones down to your plush lips. You could feel the little tremble in his palm between your hands.

“I-” he started with an exhale, being able to breathe in the sickeningly sweet aroma of your skin. How it whirred in his mind should’ve been a sin in itself.

You tightened your grip on his hand, whispering a sweet, “Do you need help, Father?” watching his adam’s apple bob past the white collar around his neck and blinks become hazy.

The hand atop trailed up his forearm with a ghostly touch, feeling the light goosebumps rise beneath your fingertips.

It wasn’t till he saw your gaze turn dark- that’s when it clicked in the Father’s mind. That’s when the pieces came together.

You weren’t some lamb in desperate need of guidance; you weren’t innocent of the invading thoughts that the devil tried to tempt you with.

‘You were put before me as a test.’ was the one clear thought that broke through the mist in his mind as he looked at you.

And what he feared most—Nanami knew that if you had continued offering your assistance, he would have failed this test put before him by his cruel god.

Only the sound of a harsh knock startled him from the invading thoughts of what he could do to you in that room—or what you would have done to him had nobody interrupted.

A parish member cracked the door open- “Father, have you found the-” halting their entry as they looked at the sight before them. Furrowing their eyebrows before Nanami cleared his throat- pulling his hand from yours again.

“I’m afraid I’ve lost them entirely- I’ll reprint them tomorrow morning.” his tone stern and clear as the parish member nodded- unsure of Nanami’s words as you stood there.

You flashed a small smile at the parish member- “Father, the deaconess is looking for you.” they continued.

Only you crossed your arms beneath your breasts and rested back onto the edge of the Father’s desk- too smug for what they had just witnessed.

“Thank you, I’ll be out in a minute.”

Hesitatingly, the parish member closed the door and left. Leaving you and the Father in a devastatingly thick with tension room. You placed a hand onto his upper bicep- the same bicep that had been tempting you for the entire service.

“I’m available anytime you need me, Father,” you whispered before you left the troubled man alone in the room. Your touch lingering on his bare skin as he placed his hands flat onto the surface of the desk.

The very same desk he was picturing you bent over in his mind a mere few seconds ago.

His hands were clammy against the surface, an ache rowling in his tummy as he closed his eyes and tried shaking away the thoughts of your breasts daring to spill from the low cut neckline of your dress.

Or how tight the fabric looked pressed against your hips when you walked away from him.

In the end Nanami was still a man with eyes- not even a priest could control their wandering gaze.

He wanted to tell you- he needed to say to you that he couldn’t help you anymore. That little arrangement after Sunday mass, where you would lure him in with descriptions of the proclivities taking place late at night, couldn’t happen anymore.

Nanami was sure that the next time he saw you, he would tell you to get out of his church and find someone better suited to your troubles.

Yet he sat there again, twiddling his thumbs to avoid the urge to reach for his zipper.

A week of cold showers were, as you said- they didn’t fucking help. On mornings when Nanami would wake up with urge bursting from his boxers or by just remembering the sweet tinge the air had once you left- the appendage between his legs would twitch in betrayal.

The realization that you were a test made him even more intrigued, as though it pushed him further into your clutches. He was desperate to know if he would succeed in this test his god put before him.

And sitting in that chair, hearing you speak of the filth that raged in your mind without shame.

A feigned chime of disappointment in yourself when you fell back into the temptation again, but this time, Nanami saw it was false. That the slight curl your lips had wasn’t a defense mechanism; you found humor in the trouble inflicted on him.

As though you could smell the fear in his very soul from the chance of succeeding in enticing him.

And yet, Nanami still sat there listening. A masochistic churn in his brain had him listen to every temptation.

“You’ve never felt this way, Father?” you whirred, the amused look in your eyes masked by the fanning of your lashes. “As though you started something you couldn’t stop doing?”

Yes, he did know the feeling. He knew once he met you he wouldn’t have been able to stop seeing you- speaking to you. Even if you were trying to bewitch him, he knew in his mind he wouldn’t be able to stop saying yes to your requests for these sessions.

“Has it helped?” He murmured, straightening his back and interlocking his hands.

You let out a little giggle, “If anything- it hasn’t. But I can't stop.” taking a little nibble at your bottom lip, “It makes me crave more.” That was the sentence that made Nanami look at you more dangerously than before-

Now, Nanami knew you needed more, and you didn’t care to stop the urges.

Keeping a low tone, “I yearn for more.” you spoke- clearly so he could hear. Nanami gulped, tingles rushing into his cheeks making his brain nervous. “For the warmth of another person.”

Nanami had to bite his tongue- pretend he heard your thoughts as a church priest and not as a man.

“I’m sure you’ve never felt this way Father. You’re an extraordinary priest- It must be jarring to hear my inner monologue.” You spoke softly, so sure he would agree.

Nanami inhaled, “Not at all. Life as a priest is very lonely.” he smiled, his mouth dry at the words that dared rumble in his mind. “I’ve found myself craving the warmth of another person before. It’s normal.”

Except it fucking wasnt- not for a man with as much ressolve as he did. Not once in those ten years of being in the priesthood did he find himself craving warmth to surround and twitch around him as badly as he did now. Especially now.

And when the time came to walk you out of his office, you stood at his desk.

He took the place next to you in the very spot he pictured you bent over in before. Standing the very same way you were the last Sunday you were in his office.

Only this time- there was no chatter outside his window from the event. In that church it was only you and him.

And as though you knew, you looked into his eyes, testing the space between you, leaning in mere millimeters at a time.

And the Father, tormented by the choice of stepping back or falling into the temptation you had to offer. Your lips parted as you gazed into Nanami’s eyes, his jittery and nervous pupils trying to figure out if you were getting closer or if he was just crazed enough to picture it.

“Can you help me, Father?” you whispered, raising your hand to his bicep and touching it lightly.

His lips were agape- inhaling as much air into his dry mouth as he thought of the words to say. The only ones he could process; “How?”

Your nose no more than an inch from his- you inhaled, a fire burning in your tummy and pooling between your legs at his dissolve. “Touch me.” was all you could whisper before he closed his eyes and pressed his lips to yours.

Warmth. The warmth of a human he had craved for days now pressed against his lips made his shoulders shiver. Raising his hands from his side and placing one as lightly at the side of your neck. The other lacing behind your back and pressing against the little curve above your bottom.

His lips took a gentle approach- slotting them with care against yours as his hands urged you to rest on the edge of his desk.

Burning in his loins was an ache- an ache that grew with the haste he made in slipping his tongue past his lips and against yours. Leaving behind any last reservation he had to stop this before it went too far.

Whispers of groans took form of small whimpers as your hands dragged down his torso and guided his hips to rest between your thighs. Never did he appreciate how good this felt before- the feeling of tongues slathering against each other and being able to taste you on his tongue.

Never in his days before becoming a priest did he appreciate the feeling of warm plush skin beneath his hands, the hand on the small of your back lowering to the clothed swell of your ass and taking a desperate grip.

The one on your neck lowering to your chest- cupping his hand on the side of your rib with his thumb curled at the bottom of your breast.

Nanami knew that he could come undone from just this- no stimulation to the leaking with excitement mess in his black slacks, just his hands full of plentiful skin and his lips busy with feeling the muscle of your tongue swirl against his.

But your hands roamed down to the buckle of his belt, being able to feel his ache press against your thigh. Nanami pulled his lips from yours begrudgingly- “I can’t-” he breathed, slowing your moving hands and hearing his plea.

“I can’t.” he closed his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows; only one of your hands reached up to his neck, pulling his head onto your shoulder with your lips at the perfect angle of his ear.

“You are a good priest,” you whispered, placing a light kiss on his cartilage and continuing your other hand in slowly unbuckling his belt. The tips of your fingers softly grazing the short blonde hair of his undercut. His hands went unmoved from your clothed skin as he fought the mental battle.

You placed another soft kiss on his warmed ear, “Tell me how long it’s been since you rid yourself of the poison, Father.” you whispered, undoing the button of his slacks slowly as his breath grazed against your collarbone.

“Far too long.”

You licked your lips at the image of how much seed he’ll spurt- undoing his zipper at an agonizing pace, “Tell me to stop and I will.” you murmured, your breath tickling his ear as your hand rested on his hip. Waiting for his permission.

Nanami swallowed harshly; his hands had a bruising hold on your skin as you offered what he yearned for on a silver platter.

“Please,” he whispered, not knowing what he was pleading for.

A little exhale with a giggle grazed Nanami’s ear, “I need to hear you say it.” you whispered, the hand on your button roaming down the side of your thigh and grazing the hem of the skirt you wore.

“Please touch me.” he whispered- your hand trailed to the band of his briefs, his breathing hitching against your skin with a mean grip formed on your thigh.

The gasp that left his lips bordered on a whimper as your fingers dipped into his briefs, being able to feel how hard he was immediately. Wasting no time in pulling out his strained desire as he held you closer, bracing for what he had asked for.

Taking a light hand as you wrapped your fingers around his shaft- heavy and hot in your palm as he inhaled sharply. “You are a good man, Father,” you whispered, starting slow strokes at his crying cock.

“You deserve to be helped,”

“To be touched.”

His strained cock threatened to release his mess right then and there- the scent of you filling his nose with the slow strokes of your wrist, added with your assuring words; Nanami swore he was about to.

But your hand didn’t let him, cutting your strokes short right before you could roll over his cockhead. Opening your mouth and placing your lips onto his neck, lightly lapping at the skin- his groans deepening in response.

Pulling his forehead from your shoulder, pressing his lips onto yours again in urge- Nanami wanted to do as you had asked. He wanted to touch you. But his hands couldn’t focus on anything other than groping at whatever body part he could find.

His lips moving in unpatterned movements against yours- speeding up the pace of your hand and feeling his groans rumble onto your lips. Your eyes half-lidded and watching the little sheen of sweat form at his blonded hairline.

Amused at how worked up he was from a few strokes- but your hand isn’t moving fast enough for him. Nanami started bucking his hips into your hand with urge. His balls clenched as he felt the estranged feeling of an orgasm build.

His nose huffed out strained breaths as his kisses became sloppy, tightening the grip of your hand and watching his brows pinch together. Pulling his lips from you and letting out a drawn out groan.

Nanami’s hips stuttering as his orgasm rolled over him in hot waves. Oozes of his seed coating your fingers with every thrust he made. And it was so fucking much- it made you regret not hiking your skirt up and taking it inside wether than on your hand.

His breathing was coarse as your wrist assisted in riding him down, kissing softly at your exposed collarbone as his still-hard cock pulsed in your hand. Making you wonder just how backed up he really was.

As though his hand heard your thoughts, they reached down to the hem of your skirt and started hiking it up. You looked into his eyes—dark and full of want, with a goal shimmering in them.

Smiling softly, “Father-” you teased, feeling his strong hands grip your bare thighs before roaming back to the little zipper of your top and undoing it slowly, wasting no time in unclasping the band of your bra along with it.

Pulling back and looking at you- bare and as he had pictured you.

Nanami didn’t have a thought in his mind- completely mush and with only one goal in mind. Guiding you to lay back on the desk, his hands roaming down to your thighs- being able to see the growing dark spot of your lace panties.

Your skirt bunched up at your hips as he reached a hand up to his collar. Pulling it off and closing his eyes with a small exhale. Undoing the top button of his black dress shirt and feeling his cock pulse.

His lips moved in a soft whisper- almost in a prayer. But his hands trailing to the damp center of your lacy panties told you that prayer isn’t working.

Nanami didn’t pray for the strength to stop- he didn’t want to. He started the prayer of forgiveness knowing that he didn’t want to stop. Some kind of assurance that the sooner he started begging for forgiveness, he would be pardoned.

A soft gasp left your lips as he traced his middle and index finger up your damp cunt. Looking at the enticing sight with his mouth watering, lightly circling the tips of his fingers onto your perched clit as you hummed.

His other hand going to his cock- pained and daring to run red from the neglect. You bit your lip softly at the sight, his hair disheveled and an unashamed blush on his cheeks.

Stopping his prayer and looking at the painting hung on the wall in front of him- a saint looking at him in disgust. He waited a second- as though he was waiting for the voice of his god to come thundering down.

But it didn’t- “Forgive me.” he muttered, placing his fat cock onto your slit. His heavy shaft resting against your clit with a little sigh.

Bucking his hips with soft grunts as your warmth radiated on the underside of his cock. Frotting his cock against you- another way of justifying his sinning. He wasn’t actually fucking you- so it didnt count right?

But every whimper and moan your lips would make, added with the feeling of his heavy cockhead bumping against your clit made it fucking tempting. As fast as the first orgasm build in his tummy- the second one came even quicker.

And he knew he could hold it- no matter how many thrusts his cock brushed against your cunt with vulgar squelches- Nanami was determined to wait.

But the smile on your lips at the lack of resolve curled into a wicked smile: “Put it inside—please, Kento.” The one time you had said his name—what kind of man was Nanami to deny you such a request?

He pulled his cock from your slick with various strings of your arousal as he angled his tip with your entrance.

Nanami’s face was troubled, as though he was still hesitating. “Just the tip,” you whispered, smugly knowing he barely had the resolve to hesitate. He would listen to you.

He gulped with a little grunt, placing his tip at your slick entrance and gasping at the sheer warmth. You hummed lightly when his hips finally pushed in the slightest, pushing past the seal of your cunt with a moan soaked with bliss.

Unable to remember when he felt such pleasure that made him want to say thank you.

And as though your cunt was trying to suck him in- his hips didnt stop, “I’m sorry.” he whispered, sinking himself into you and planting a hand onto the wooden desk, allowing himself to lean over on top of you with a drawn out moan.

You let out a light hiss at the sting of his girth- placing your hands on his back and holding onto him as he stayed still.

His shoulders trembling and his hips urgent in moving. Even if it was you who was making him go mad- Nanami still had the decency to allow you time to adjust.

Your breasts pressed against his chest as you waited for his hips to start moving. But he didnt want to, as though having his cock inside of you was still permissable, but the movement of fucking you wouldn’t be.

“Move-” you hummed, hands braced against the back of his dress shirt with your velvet walls twitching around him- pleading at the Father to give you what you wanted.

Nanami only let out a shaky breath- “I can’t,” similar to a little sob but laced with a grunt. Your lips pressed against his temple, brushing them against his ear with a smile.

“Give me what I want.” Whispered and invaded his ear as his grip on the desk turning his knuckles white. “I want this Kento-” you whined, trying to convince him to move- to fuck you like you knew he could.

“I want you.”

Nanami groaned at the little clench your walls made around him- “I can feel you trembling-” kissing his ear with a little damp spot left in wake. “Just pull out of me- then push back in.” feeling his hips follow your guidance as though you controlled them.

He whimpered in a breath at the sensation, “Doesn’t that feel good?” you hummed, digging your fingers into his back in the slightest.

And it did- it felt like heaven on earth for Nanami. And as though he couldn’t control it- he did it again. As slowly as he could, with his tip brushing your gspot on every drag of his cock. And every slow thrust he made- grinding his pelvis against your clit from how deep he was pushing himself in.

You only whimpered at the slow thrusts- being able to feel the hesitance in the pushes Nanami made.

One side of him kept the appearance of being kind, making sure to make this about you, whereas the other side of him was yelling at him, pleading with him to speed up- faster and faster.

Fuck into you as you had been begging him to from the moment you first walked into his church.

You laced your lips with his again. Had his hands had any more strength, they would have cracked the wood of the desk from how desperately he was gripping.

Barely able to withstand the sluggish strokes he made- as slow as you had instructed him to. But you pulled your lips from his, want and demand in your eyes as he looked at you- completely broken down and yours in that moment.

“Fuck me-” you whimpered, watching the urge to make this about you dissipate behind his eyes.

With one drag of his cock- he jabbed back into you. And again and again- rougher and with intent as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

Nanami didn’t even know what words spilled from his lips- laced with grunts and the crude plapping of his heavy, full balls slapping against your ass. Pleads for nothing in particular- ‘Please, please-’

Apologies muttered into your ear for having his way with you, ‘I’m sorry- m’sorry.’

“I have to- I have to-” muttered between his grunts as a mantra to keep him sane.

His frustrations with the chaos you caused in his mind aided in drilling into you with mean thrusts- your whimpers full of content and moans littered with one more request of him- “More.”

And he gave you as much as he had- Nanami had given himself up to you entirely and was fucking glad to do it. His tortured mind had metamorphosed into pure bliss, with his body buzzing in sheer excitement for his second orgasm.

Grunts with one question- “Can I-” barely legible and laced with the sounds of vile squelching coming from where you linked with him. “Inside,” huffed in the same breath as a groan.

You huffed a happy exhale- glad he wanted to spill himself inside of you.

“F-fill m-” was all you managed before he took on a rougher pace- pounding into you as though he was made for it. His skin burned beneath the black clothing and pressing his lips onto yours again. Barely able to kiss you- pearly teeth clashing against yours at every turn of his head.

The joint groan that left you both when he halted his thrusts- burrowed deep inside of you as your walls clenched around him. Shallow pumps were all he gave before searing, thick seed spilled inside of you.

Shakingly breathing against your lips as he eased down the pinnacle of his second orgasm. Thinking the realization of what he had done would hit him like thunderous fear- but it didn’t.

In the moment of the afterglow bliss, Nanami didn’t care what happened after this. He knew in his marrow that this was worth it—you were worth it.

Even if he had failed the test sent down by his god, Nanami knew he would never have found anything or anyone that gave him half as much serenity.

Not in the years he had spent in the priesthood did he find half as much peace as he did now. Balls deep in the coated walls of your cunt in the office meant for a godly man.

That’s what peace was to Nanami at that moment.

(a.n) this was very hot to write ^-^

1K notes · View notes

disneyprincemuke · 7 months

Text

fly on the wall * fem!driver

she crashes in her third race of her f1 career, but she's more concerned about its repercussions than the concussion

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, lewis hamilton x fem!reader

warnings: crashing the car

notes: ooooh my god i had to rewrite this 5 times because it wasn't up to my liking initially, and then tumblr was having some issues saving my shit so i lost it?? it's very sad fr

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

"are you alright?" sebastian's voice comes onto the radio.

his eyes are trained on the big screen, cameras focused on the car parked into the wall out of a turn. he couldn't get an answer out of his driver so he had to resort to the third party.

if his assumptions are correct, she would have hit her head on her seat hard at impact. but things like that can lead to so many bigger things that he might not even be prepared for.

her vision slowly returns, blacking out for a mere second as the car went into the barriers of the baku track.

she had issues with her brakes for a few laps. sebastian had suggested retiring the car if she didn't feel safe, but she pressed on. the issue didn't seem so serious and it seemed manageable.

at first.

it's a driver error - missing the early braking point to accommodate her already tweaking brakes. she missed it by a millisecond, clipped the wall and got sent straight into the wall.

she sighs, pressing the button on her steering wheel. "i'm okay," she answers shakily, tears now filling her eyes.

"okay, that's the important part. don't think about anything else. i'll see you in the medical centre." sebastian is quick to shut her thoughts down, clearly prioritising her wellbeing and not the car.

"i'm sorry," she sighs, voice shaking and lips quivering. “i’m so sorry, seb.”

this is only her third race in f1, how could she have already crashed out? on a race where she was so close to that podium. it would have been such a monumental moment — a woman on the podium.

with 20 laps left in the race and her in 5th place, it wasn’t all that far out of reach at the time. yet, here she is causing a yellow flag as she starts to notice the smoke surrounding her.

"like i said. don't think about anything else."

she sighs to herself as a marshal appears above her halo, greeting her with a soft smile. she nods, letting herself get helped out of her car.

but only one thought eats away at her: she crashed on her third race. what's everyone going to say about her now?

“let me talk,” sebastian sighs, hands up in the air as he tries to calm the girl sitting on the examination bed. he’s barely able to get a word in.

she’s slouched against the wall, purple balaclava in her hands as she traces the thread that holds it together at the hem. the minute he walked in, she looked up immediately with tears in her eyes and a string of apologies.

it hasn’t stopped since he poked his head through the door, cutting him off before he could even ask if she’s okay.

“do you not see the problem?” she shrieks, eyebrows furrowing at sebastian. “i just crashed out! imagine what the media has to say about my performance today? they’re just going to use this as a reason to justify that i shouldn’t be on the track!”

sebastian drops his hands to his side, deciding that he’d just let her get it all off her chest. it might make her feel better.

though, it doesn’t make him feel good that she’s continually talking down on herself. he vouched for her for weeks for a reason, and it’s because he believes in her. more than she does in herself, it seems.

“i didn’t work my ass off my whole life just to be undermined because i’m a woman!” she tosses the balaclava aside, now picking at the loose skin by her fingernails. “i didn’t get this far for everyone to count me out because of one crash! can you fucking believe that shit? it’s a fucking rookie mistake, seb! i’ve been racing for years!”

she drops her hands by her side and groans again, rolling her eyes. “i’ve earned my rightful spot to be where i am! they are not going to care about that!”

sebastian shrugs slightly, overlooked by the infuriated woman across him. he can barely get a breath in before she continues, shutting his mouth immediately as she continues her rampage.

“imagine the headlines tomorrow! a driver is as good as their last race — i know that! don’t try to sugarcoat it. you know i’m right!” she rambles on, eyes darting all over the room. she’s pushed herself off the wall slightly, clearly flustered over the course of events.

she avoids sebastian’s eyes, the fear of fully breaking down in front of him prominent. crying over a crash seemed like such a silly thing to do, but there’s no denying how demanding the sport truly is.

in her short three races in the season and people’s neverending criticism of her abilities, it makes her lie awake at night rethinking her position on the grid.

following her crash, sebastian hadn’t expected for her to ramble on for this long. he initially thought that the crash would have sent her into a shocking silence, so while her anger is warranted, it was definitely not on his list of things to be ready for.

“imagine what they have to say about me!” she throws her hands in the air, scratching her head gently. “imagine what they’ll say about you! it’s not going to be good, trust me! i’m a woman in a fucking racing car in a male-dominated sport!”

“hey!” sebastian’s voice bounces in the room, making her lift her head with her eyes narrowed into a glare.

the sudden movement reminds her of her restrictions, hands coming up to nurse the back of her neck. she feels a sharp pain shoot through her head all the way down to her shoulders. “what?” she hisses, quickly looking down to hide the pain.

“you literally just crashed head-first into a wall at 250 kilometres per hour! you’re lucky all you got was a concussion and whiplash! it could’ve been worse!”

“if i was lucky, i’d have been able to recover and get on the podium as we discussed! i was already 5th!”

“and you didn’t! that’s okay! you learn from things like these!”

“no, it’s not! i’m already hated as it is!”

“it’s part of the sport! fernando alonso has crashed, lewis has, and so have max and charles! every other big name in formula 1 has had their fair share! you’ll be okay!”

she finally meets sebastian’s eyes, slouching even more as she audibly sighs. he watches her body deflate, leaning back dejectedly. “it’s still different.”

she’s still in her fireproofs. her race suit had to be taken off during her short time with the doctor, hanging on the back of the plastic chair in the small medical room. her helmet sits next to her, underneath the balaclava she’d thrown on top of it.

her hair is in a loose ponytail with stray hairs poking out and resting on her face. the adrenaline has yet to leave her body, chest heaving as if it’d just been over and beads of sweat still scattered all over her.

“i know it’s different. but everyone else who says whatever isn’t the person behind the wheel, you have to remember that,” he says in a soothing tone, finally coming up to stand next to her. he sighs, putting a hand on top of her head. “and i know it sucks.”

she shakes her head. “no, you don’t. we’re different; our problems are different.”

“the way they used to hate me, and things they say about you are different, yes,” sebastian nods in a low voice, his thumb now tracing circles on her head. “but you still can prove them wrong. you just started driving in formula 1 — you’ll have way more chances to shut them all up.”

“i could’ve already. if i just controlled the car a little better.”

“it’s okay.” he slides himself onto the examination bed, sitting next to her. he intertwines his fingers and rests his hands on his thigh. “everybody crashes at one point in their career.

“let the media say what they want, but not all that criticise you have been in a race before. nobody on that grid thinks you’re lesser than you are just because of what happened today.”

“you don’t know that.”

sebastian just shakes his head, refusing to elaborate any further. he leans back into the wall as well. “oscar is on the way with some snacks for you.”

crashing out during a race is never easy. years before he decided to retire, tapping and crashing out of a race has always been demoralising. it always feels like the first time when he does.

“i don’t need snacks. i need to go back to 4 hours ago when i was still on track for a podium finish in the first half of my rookie season.”

“with your talent, i can assure you that this will not be your only opportunity in formula 1. i will make sure of it, of course. wherever i go, you go.”

the door creaks open, cutting her off before she can throw an answer back as sebastian. “i’ve got your favourite snacks. i also stole a couple of twix bars from your backpack, i hope you don’t mind.”

“well, why’d you take them and still tell me about it knowing i wouldn’t even have given it to you in the first place?” she reaches for the nearest object next to her, yanking it towards oscar by the door.

“because it was calling my name,” he shrugs, pushing the door fully open to reveal who he’s strung along to the medical centre.

“i took a packet of haribo,” logan shrugs as he steps in. he flinches when she clenches her fist, scrambling to pull something out of his paper bag. “but i got you a can of sprite to make up for it! don’t be mad!”

her gaze softens when she notices lewis hamilton standing behind her friends, a paper bag hanging on his fingers as he grins at her.

“how are you, sweetie?” his voice is empathetic and low, giving her a look that she’d seen from everyone she’s passed on her way here.

she sees lewis and sebastian exchange glances, almost making her roll her eyes again.

she doesn’t talk to lewis that often, but he has addressed her before when she would trail behind sebastian on the track. she would often greet him softly as she hid behind her mentor, or simply excuse herself when she sees either oscar or logan passing by.

he’s a role model and the last thing she ever wanted to do was be too overbearing. to see him come to her aid is only a dream come true.

“i hope you don’t beat yourself up because of that. you drove a brilliant race today,” he smiles. “everybody crashes out. don’t even care what others have to say about you. you did well.”

lewis understands being cast out as a minority. he will never understand the struggles and pressure put on her, but he can at least relate to a certain extent. “don’t even sweat it. you’re now one of the world’s greatest in a fast race car. you’d smoke anybody who would dare challenge you.”

oscar tilts his head. “why would someone random just challenge her out on the street?”

“oscar, shut up,” logan shoves the australian slightly, landing a warning smack on his shoulder after. “let her have her moment.”

lewis laughs but does wave oscar off as he returns his attention to her. “what they say will string, but trust me, this is not the end of the world. i know it feels like it.”

she nods to herself. “okay, hand me the snacks so i can eat away all my pain. i deserve it.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock

#sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #fem!driver #female driver #f1 grid x reader #formula 1 fem!driver

1K notes · View notes

ventismacchiato · 3 months

Text

RAFAYEL HEADCANONS

canon complaint, established relationship

sorry guys, can u tell i have a favorite

matching everything. phone charms. earrings. nails. socks. you name it, he’ll buy everything in two.

begs you every other day to get a matching tattoo with him. he’s even drawn up multiple designs for you to choose from and will keep asking you until you eventually agree, how could you refuse?

hates cats, says he’s allergic (he’s not) but will run out the room when your cat walks in when he’s staying over. one time you asked him to feed it when you were away on a mission and you watched through your cat cam as it took him fifteen minutes to get the bravery to even get five feet near your cat.

so very chronically online. he’s a certified yapper. you’re his only follower on his private twitter and best believe he’s posting every single thought he has, and he expects you to reply to every single one. also asks you to match profile photos, but he has commitment issues so you guys change them almost every week.

you usually wake up to at least one voice note from him, minimum of five minutes long. you got used to playing them as podcasts as you got ready for work.

honestly he already probably gets his nails done, but will let you do them for him. more so force you, he’s lazy. but if you like to have yours done he would be able to do the prettiest designs for you.

aquarium dates are his favorite, no need to get a guide because rafayel will talk your ear off the moment you’re inside.

boy who cried wolf. fakes being sick for your attention so much so that you don’t even believe him when he actually is. not until thomas tells you that rafa has been whining about missing you in bed.

clearly has abandonment issues and gets upset when you don’t let him know where you are or if you’re okay. he’ll show up at your apartment the few times you pass out from a mission and forget to reply, ready to be mad at you. but the moment he sees your wounds and tired eye bags he loses any ounce of anger he once had.

love language is quality time, doesn’t matter what you’re doing as long as it’s together. he’s the type to tag along when you need to go grocery shopping or pick up something. he just likes to be beside you.

he is a brat, so he’ll laugh as he watches you struggle to carry all the groceries back inside. but it’ll only last a few seconds before he scoops them from you. if you guys go to a carnival together his immediate thought is to win every prize there. it’s only when he’s sucked the poor booths dry is when you have to tug him away.

claw machine dates are weekly and mandatory, but if you think you’re getting a turn think again. he gets too into it and forgets to share. you’ve come to learn you just need to pry him away from it

always follows the sidewalk rule but in return will make a big deal out of you opening doors for him since you’re his bodyguard. he’s the girlfriend in the relationship fr

that’s not the entire time though, when it’s just you two and he’s all worn out from being annoying all day his tone will go softer and his gaze warmer. he loves you he really does he just showcases it weirdly

constantly asking, morelike begging, you to stay the night. even if you have work the next day he says he needs you to fall asleep. it’s happened so many times you eventually brought one of your uniforms over and some clothes so you could spend the night and still go to work. it’s hard not to give in to him.

loves pda. if it was up to him he’d have his hands on you constantly. will get sulky if you don’t hold his hand when you go out.

much like xavier i don’t think he would enjoy working out. but if you need to go to the gym to train he’ll sit on a yoga ball beside your treadmill and talk your ear off. he’ll spot you on the machines but won’t go near anything. he will offer to sit on your back as you do push-ups though. you decline.

nsfw

probably a switch but after seeing his tipsy invitation and ebb and flow scenes he’s giving he prefers to be on the bottom. probably bratty at the beginning but he according to the cards he gives in pretty easily, letting mc tie him up and referring to you as master likeeee. i feel like he just wants you to enjoy it more than he wants to enjoy it. gets off at seeing you get off type of deal.

he’s giving pillow princess vibes but if you ask he’ll give you the same treatment but tease you the entire time tbh he’s sooo bratty but i can’t see him being a hard mean dom. like he’ll give into you but make you work for it. edging kink all the way

“hmm, should i stop? i can’t let you finish this quick.”

“wow i didn’t know you were so sensitive here.”

“i haven’t even used my fingers yet and you’re already this wet.”

100% down to try any sex toy can you imagine him buying some sort of tentacle dildo as a joke cus he’s a mermaid but then you end up actually using it on him one night

#rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #rafayel x y/n #rafayel x mc #rafayel x gender neutral reader #rafayel headcanons #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x you #love and deepspace headcanon #love and deepspace headcanons

696 notes · View notes

kennedysbaby · 1 month

Text

“not bad.” — leon kennedy

wc: 2.0k

pairings: di! leon kennedy x fem! agent! reader

synopsis: in the midst of a casual training session, leon accidentally throws a miscalculated punch, resulting in him needing to make it up to you, his favorite rookie.

warnings: age gap (leon is thirty-eight, reader is twenty-three). kind of inappropriate work relationship. mentor/protege turned lovers-ish? mild sexual content. leon riding his motorcycle without a helmet because he thinks he's too hot to (real).

author's note: i'm tired of pretending death island leon isn't the hottest leon. twink death dilf birth fr. also not my best work, i kind of just threw this up and wrote it in the span of two hours. i’m not too proud of it honestly.

even after long and strenuous missions, leon didn't care if you were beyond exhausted; as long as you came back relatively unscathed, you were required to show up to work the next morning. which, whatever, that was fair. it would be a little nice to catch up on some well-deserved sleep, though. the worst part is, it wasn't only mission reports that you were expected to complete—it was training, too.

sure, you might've had a teensy bit of a crush on your mentor, but this never failed to piss you off, even if he looked so good.

in the dimly lit training room, the air was thick with the faint scent of sweat and determination as you and leon squared off. you stood before the older man, a fierce glint glazed over your eyes, while leon maintained a more relaxed stance, his more experienced gaze assessing your every move.

"let's see what you've still got in you after last week's shitshow." leon teased, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

you shot back, "bring it on, old man," a playful glimmer danced in your eyes as you readied yourself for the impending clash.

"old man?" leon feigned offense, scoffing in disbelief. "i haven't even hit forty yet. you're just cruel."

you clenched your fists with a shit-eating grin, lunging forward and throwing a flurry of messy punches that leon expertly dodged—which only wiped away your smirk in an instant. your movements were fluid, visually pleasing from afar. circling one another, you searched for an opening, reaching forward with a swift jab, that he deftly sidestepped, countering with a quick jab of his own that grazed your cheek.

you grimaced from the pain, to which he responded with, "nice try sweetheart, but you'll have to be quicker than that," leon taunted, his voice laced with clear amusement. "i taught you better than this, babe."

sweetheart. babe. blush spread across your cheeks, and not from the back-and-forth punches and kicks. leon was fifteen years your senior, but unfortunately, he was also unbelievably hot—you felt so guilty for even having feelings for him in the first place.

leon was ruggishly handsome, with long-ish dark brown hair that framed his face, and broad shoulders that made him look like he gave good hugs. plus, he rode motorcycles—that he occasionally crashed—and owned this alluring charm to him that you just couldn't help but fall for. your "little" crush had gotten so inconsolable, you started laughing at his awful dad jokes.

nonetheless, you two had established a sweet relationship built on witty banter and pretentiously deep conversations. one reassuring shoulder pat and charming smile from him and all your pre-existing daddy issues withered away into nothing.

"oh please, i can hear your joints cracking from here," you grinned, determination coursing through your veins as you launched back into a flurry of punches and kicks, each one dismally met with leon's skillful evasion or expertly timed blocks.

banter flowed effortlessly between you two, subtly flirtatious comments sprinkled amongst them—a mixture of teasing jabs and genuine encouragement that only served to heighten the unspoken tension.

your fellow agents on leon's team were well-aware of the evident favoritism shown towards you. unbeknownst to them, you heard their little snide comments they'd whisper whenever you breathed near your mentor. he probably fucks her, they'd say, she probably blows him. it was disgusting, and quite frankly, sexist, but you did your best to ignore them.

though, sometimes you wished they were true.

as the minutes stretched on, the intensity of your little sparring session only seemed to grow, the air thick was anticipation as you pushed each other to the limit. but, in the heat of the moment, a lapse in leon's concentration led to very dirty move.

with lightning-fast movement, he threw a hard punch that was meant to be deflected harmlessly, but instead, landed with a sickening thud against your side. you gasped, the impact knocking the wind from your lungs as you stumbled backward, pain etched across your pretty features.

in an instant, leon's playful demeanor vanished, replaced by genuine concern as he rushed over to you, his rough hands hovering uncertainly over your trembling form.

"shit, sweetheart, i'm sorry," his smooth voice was thick with regret as his fingers tentatively slid your white tank top up. his cold blue eyes narrowed as the pad of his thumb gently brushed over the wound, frowning at the newly forming bruise tainting your skin like mold.

you winced at the contact, but you definitely weren't complaining. a reassuring smile graced your lips as your strained eyes met his worried gaze. "it's okay," you murmured, "it was an accident."

leon's lips parted slightly, as if restraining himself, before chuckling softly, "let me make it up to you," his eyes flitted upwards, landing upon your own—it sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. he guided you towards the nearby bench, settling himself right next to you, his free hand strategically placed on your thigh.

i've got to use this to my advantage, you thought to yourself, before replying, "okay…how about dinner tonight?" your voice was still a little stiff, clearly still reeling back from the uncalled for punch. "i think i deserve it after putting up with your weird no-breaks-after-missions rule."

leon wasn't an idiot. of all the things you could've asked for…dinner? he knew you weren't a goody two shoes just for the sake of it. your longing glances weren't left unnoticed, the fiddling around with the hem of your skirt, your inability to hold eye contact for more than two seconds. it was glaringly obvious. he found it endearing, and he'd be lying to himself if he said he didn't have a soft spot for you.

you really were a pretty little thing. and leon was only human.

"dinner?" he repeated, a smirk creeping onto his lips. "that's the best you could come up with?"

you nodded, smiling as if you hadn't just had your shit rocked. leon swallowed hard, knowing damn well he couldn't turn you down. not that he really had a choice at this point.

…

after what was seemingly an innocent dinner together, you both found yourselves engrossed in a long anticipated kiss, standing right by his motorcycle that he surprisingly hadn't crashed. it felt so right, so perfect, like fate had written this for them, despite all odds...

"i had fun tonight," you said, looking up into his icy blue eyes, standing a few inches away from each other. your dress fell mid-thigh, tight around all the right places.

leon felt like a creep just staring at how pretty you were. he was having an awfully hard time reminding himself that you were his protege, his subordinate. this was insanely inappropriate. but if his intuition was correct, then you definitely wouldn't mind if he made a move.

the air was laced with anticipation and unspoken desire as he looked back down at your pretty face, eyes lingering on your lipstick coated lips. leon brought his calloused hands up, and cupped your soft cheeks, his touch gentle yet electrifying.

"i'm glad you did, pretty girl," an amused look crossed over his features as he took notice of your cheeks that were burning up from his touch.

with a shared understanding, leon closed the distance between the two of you, his lips crashing against yours and meeting in a fervent kiss, igniting something strong within you. throughout the night, your inhibitions had slowly but surely disappeared, evolving into this.

his lips were warm against yours, his kiss both tender and possessive as he deepened the embrace, his hands roaming freely over your body, grasping at whatever he could. luckily, the parking lot was for the most part vacant, so leon took advantage of that. he didn't know what he was drunk on, but the fact that this was inappropriate had completely slipped his mind—right now, he wasn't your mentor, and he wasn't fifteen years older than you. what could go wrong? besides, it wasn't like the dso would let go of one of its founders.

you sighed into the kiss, surrendering yourself completely to the intoxicating rush that coursed hotly through your blood. leon pulled you closer, his fingers now tangled in your hair as he slipped his tongue between your lips, eliciting a content groan from you. you pressed your body against his, backing up against the cool metal of his motorcycle. his lips meshed into yours with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

leon really had been holding back this entire time.

you responded in kind, fingers desperately grasping onto his back, holding on for support. the cool night winds had both of your hair blowing softly, simultaneously sending a chill down your spine. but the heat of the moment was enough to keep you warm.

time seemed to stand still as you lost yourselves in each other, the outside world fading away until there was only you two, bound together by an unbreakable thread of desire and longing. as the kiss only escalated, your aching need for him was only reaching dizzying heights, knowing damn well that you'd never forget this moment. a testament to your intense desire for the man you knew you couldn't have.

when you finally pulled apart, both of your breaths were ragged and hearts were racing. you shared a knowing smile with him, the feeling sending a pleasant rush through you.

"i think it's safe to say i've made it up to you," leon whispered, his voice husky with lust as he pressed his forehead against yours. "don't you think?"

you chuckled softly, eyes sparkling with affection as you traced the line of his jaw with your fingertips. "i couldn't agree more," you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper.

his hand smoothed up your dress, feeling the area he'd accidentally punched earlier, a frown creasing onto his lips, "you holding up okay, by the way?" he asked concernedly, eyes flickering with worry once again.

"mhm, don't worry about it." you replied, grimacing a bit as he applied a bit of pressure on.

"good, good. you're a tough girl, i knew you'd take it like a champ." leon lightened the mood a bit, laughing lightly to ease his nerves.

"y'know, there's something else i'd take like a champ—" you had to cut yourself off, surprised that you'd let something like that roll off your tongue like it was nothing in front of someone who was technically your boss.

to your surprise, leon only shut his eyes, shaking his head in utter disbelief as he laughed a little harder. but he really wanted to test that theory. "you're really something, sweetheart." his chuckle alone sent shivers down your spine.

and with that, you rode off into the night, heading straight for his apartment. you wrapped your arms around his waist tightly, holding on for dear life as he sped off on the vacant highway. neither of you cared about the consequences of your actions, or how you'd be proving your teammates right. that would be a problem for tomorrow.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy oneshot #resident evil death island #di leon #resident evil #leon kennedy x you #live laugh dilf leon #not kidding when i say i need bro NOW #death island leon #older leon kennedy #death island leon x reader #kennedysbaby

517 notes · View notes

sluttywoozi · 1 year

Text

Enjoy The Masterpiece

Title from Fire by Seventeen HHU

Rating: M (18+ IM FR) | WC: ~2.1k

Summary: College boyfie!Mingyu wants you to sit on his face. He's literally begging here.

Warnings: not proof read, non explicit body image issues, wall sex, biting, fingering, face sitting, size kink, you’re both kinda crybabies, possessiveness at the end, lil bit of breeding kink, cream pie, prone bone, he wants to marry you, lmk if i forgot anything

Reader Notes: has vagina, WAP, implied plus size

AN: this fic feels really personal so pls be nice! and leave feedback im begging! lots of begging going on in this post!

“Baby, I’m literally begging you. Please sit on my face,” Mingyu pouts, lightly flexing in an attempt to build his case. You’re worried about something that hadn’t even occurred to him, something that seemed so ridiculous in his mind until it brought you to near tears.

You’re worried you’ll drown him, or smother him, or just be too much for him in general, apparently, and though it’s not a concern he’s ever had, it’s not something he can just dismiss. You feel very strongly about this, and he absolutely despises seeing you cry unless it’s from him making you cum too much, so he has to tread lightly.

However, this is as light as he knows how to tread. Asking if he can gather you up in his arms and carry you over to the wall to fuck you against it. “If I can make you cum there, would you feel more comfortable about sitting on my face? I can show you I can hold you, baby, and that if I need to move you, I can.”

You contemplate for a second before your eyes journey from biceps to dick and your decision seems to be made. Nodding resolutely, you wrap your arms around his neck and he curls his hands under your thighs. He lifts you up into his chest and bounces you once to get you situated before lumbering over to the wall and bracing you against it.

Your panties are wet from the earlier hour spent making out and grinding, and all he has to do is grip them tight and pull them up to put pressure on your clit. He’s got you sitting on his knee, his muscle rippling between your legs, and he’s really considering making you make yourself cum on his thigh before he decides that this is a precarious situation not for testing.

He does the work for you, grasping your hips and bringing your clothed heat back and forth over his thigh until his boxer briefs are soaked with you. You’re making the prettiest noises, the sounds just falling from your mouth, and he wants to taste them, presses his open mouth to yours so he can swallow your moans and whines.

His fingers slide between your thighs, dipping inside your underwear to glide through your folds and find your clit. He rolls it beneath his thumb as his fingertips seek your entrance, two delving deep and spreading inside you to prepare you for a third.

He’s going to fuck you after, if you want, so you need to be stretched out enough to take him. Three usually opens you up just enough for his cock to split you apart that little bit more, something the both of you love.

You’ve told him before that you like the sting, like the way you have to adjust to him. He was balls deep inside you at the time and your words made him throb, and your ensuing giggles nearly made him cum as your walls fluttered around him.

They’re fluttering now and his groan sends his face into your neck, his teeth leaving little indents on whatever skin they can find. His tongue soothes you whenever you gasp, his lips traveling back up your throat to find yours as his fingers curl inside of you, your wetness seeping out to soak your panties. You always get so wet, you’re so fucking perfect for him, always, and fuck, he loves you, loves you, loves you.

“I love you too, Gyu,” you nearly sob into his open mouth, and he realizes he’d said that out loud. He doesn’t care, you deserve to know, you should know how he feels about you. He also feels like he wants you to cum, right now, so he can perhaps maybe get you sitting on his face tonight. He won’t be upset or disappointed if you still don’t want to, but it’s been occupying his brain for long enough that he’s starting to feel a little wild with it.

His thumb presses down hard on your clit, rubbing measured circles as three of his long fingers hook into your g-spot and pulse, squelching noises following each curl of his fingers. Your breath catches with every curl too, and he knows you’re so so so close.

“Please cum, baby, I wanna feel you cum, please,” Mingyu begs, his voice shot and his cock dribbling precum.

You listen, your body so attuned to him that that’s what it takes. You break apart on his fingers, wetness flooding his palm and your cries echoing around the room as you writhe in his arms. He holds you while he works you through it, his fingers never growing tired even as your pussy clenches them so fucking tightly.

He loves how hard you cum for him, every fucking time.

“Good, honey? Tired?” Mingyu whispers into your hair, wrapping his arms around you and carrying you back over to the bed.

“So good, Gyu. I wan-wanna… I wanna sit on your face. Or I want to try it, at least,” you whisper back, resting your head on his chest probably so you can avoid his gaze. He allows it, near vibrating with joy that you’re willing to give it a go, and swiftly switches places with you so you’re on top of him.

“Okay, so just scooch up-”

“I’m not scooching up, that's so embarrassing!”

“Well I doubt you wanna stand up and sit down on my face, so,” he draws the ‘o’ out, telling you without words that he can’t think of another option, when another way suddenly comes to him.

“Alright, then you sit up on your knees, yeah, like that,” he waits for you to get into position, “And I’ll just slide down, like this,” his voice grows strained as he shuffles down the bed.

Once he settles and checks in with you, he lets himself look at the view just inches from his face. Seeing you, breathing you in, feels so different like this. You’re so close and there’s so much of you, and you’re all he knows, all he can feel and smell and touch, and when he pulls you to sit on his tongue, all he can taste. It’s heavenly, the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and the only way it could get any better is if you could just relax. But, he won’t push you. He’s ecstatic this is happening at all and if you need to stay up on your knees to feel comfortable, he’ll just have to crane his neck a little bit more.

Your panties are still in the way, he’d forgotten to ask you to take them off before rolling the two of you over, so he pushes them as far to the side as he can and licks right into you. The taste of you explodes on his tongue, so rich and decadent but light too, like fucking ambrosia or something, and Mingyu knows that if he died right here and now, he’d die the happiest man on the planet.

With your legs straddling his head, you’re fully spread open, your glistening folds split apart to show your swollen clit and your slightly open entrance. He can’t resist sliding his tongue inside to get a taste at the source, his dick twitching against his stomach when he feels your walls squeeze around him. He knows he should get his thumb on your clit, focus on making you cum, but he wants to explore, get to know every little bit of you even better than he already does, and now is the perfect time to take his time.

He shoves his tongue in deep, slowly fucking you with it and letting his groans rumble through you. You shiver on top of him and he feels it in his bones, feels it travel from head to toe, and he gets a sudden flash of what it would feel like to have you riding his face, triggering a moan from deep in his chest. This starts a delicious feedback cycle of Mingyu making sounds into you and you physically reacting to them, until he’s whimpering into your cunt nonstop and you’re grinding down on his tongue, just like he wanted.

He doesn’t think you’re close but he knows you feel good, can tell by the wetness gushing into his mouth and the throbbing of your clit on his nose, and that’s enough for him to keep going as he wants. Your panties are starting to annoy him though, hindering his movements and constantly obstructing him from feeling you fully, so he detaches from you long enough to ask, “Can I rip them?”

The tears in his voice make his words near incomprehensible but you know what he’s talking about, as always, and nod frantically, lifting up to give him some room to work. They’re flimsy, delicate enough that all it takes is his hands clenched in the sides and a sharp jerk before you’re fully naked before him. He lets the fabric fall to the bed, returning his hands to your hips and pulling you back down to where you belong.

It’s so much better without your panties in the way, his tongue able to glide from cunt to clit as freely as he likes and his hands able to really squeeze into the meat of your hips like he loves. You give a little grind, slowly getting back into the rhythm you had pre-panty ripping, and he whines loudly in encouragement, bucking his own hips up into the air out of pure reflex.

He wants you so bad but he wants to feel you cum like this more, so he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks harshly, waiting for you to squeal overhead before slipping three fingers back inside of you from behind. Prodding at your g-spot, he flicks his tongue over your clit from side to side as he sucks, and it proves to be enough, or maybe too much, for you. You buckle over him, surrounding him completely in you as you cum with a sharp whine.

The tensing of your walls around his fingers and the pulsing of your clit in his mouth are almost enough to tear his own orgasm from him, his free hand flying down to grip the base of his dick tight tight tight to stave it off. He’s never cum untouched before and though he wouldn’t mind trying it, he desperately wants to fuck you.

He slowly slides out from under you, turning over and grasping your hips to help lower you onto the bed before laying down next to you and sweeping a hand up and down your back. You’re still face down and panting into the duvet so he gives you some time, waits until you lift your head and plop it back down facing him to speak.

“How was it, baby? Did you like it?” Mingyu asks softly, digging his fingers into the knots he finds.

“I loved, we can do that every night if you want, ten out of ten, great job,” you mumble, and he wonders if you’ll be too tired for him tonight.

“Do you think maybe I could… cum inside you? I’m almost there, you wouldn’t have to do anything, I just wanna feel you.”

You perk up instantly, still obviously exhausted but more awake mentally than before, nodding and lifting your ass just enough for him to climb on top of you and slide inside. You feel better on his cock than his face, which he didn’t think was possible, but here he is, halfway inside and approximately four inches from blowing his load. He loves cumming inside of you, getting to be so close and leaving so much of himself with you, like he’s marking his territory or something.

He’s never worried about that with you, but sometimes the urge still comes through, the desire to make sure you and everyone else knows that you’re his, that your perfect body is his to fuck and your flawless mind is his to love. Even further, he wants everyone to know he’s yours. Wants your ring on his finger and your last name tacked onto his, wants it all, wants everything with you.

That can wait until he’s not about to cum so deep inside you he hopes it sticks, though.

Find my masterlist here

#mingyu smut #kim mingyu smut #mingyu oneshot #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x you #mingyu fic #seventeen smut #svt smut #kpop smut #seventeen oneshot #kpop oneshots #✨emily writes✨#mingyu x chubby reader #mingyu x chubby!reader #chubby!reader #chubby reader

3K notes · View notes

peachesofteal · 9 months

Note

OHHHH I SEE WE ALL HAVE OMEGAVERSE FRENZY IN THIS HOUSE

What if Darling DID INDEED take suppressants for almost all her life after she presented as omega

BUT but but the reason she was off them was because a doctor told her she was in risk of losing all her ability to produce pheromones.

“Losing your capability of producing pheromones can come with a number of issues,” she tells you. “For starters, your heat cycles would be reduced to at least half of their frequency. There is also a decrease of libido, as well as a decrease in fertility. It is also not uncommon for omegas to experience separation or breakup with their partners, especially if they're alphas, but not to be–”. However, you stopped listening after separation.

You thought about that comment your co-worker made in passing about being dumped by his two alpha partners after he couldn't carry pups due to hormonal problems. He was promptly thrown out into the streets. Abandoned. Tossed away like a broken glass; no purpose and no means for existing, nor to fix it.

Surely, they wouldn't leave you for something like that, could they? But then the back of your mind whispered with its little secrets and ideas. Sure, your secondary gender wasn't all that glued you to them, but it had something to do, at least, right? A happy, little omega waiting for them at home.

“There are, however, solutions and treatments that we could possibly try.”

That snaps you out of your own thoughts.

“When was your last heat?”

You could vividly remember it. Your then partner asking you once more to sleep separately from them, because your heats not only bothered them, but also disgusted them.

“More than five years ago.”

Your doctor then stayed quiet for a few moments, the gears in her mind working.

“There is a possibility of this change in your glands to revert back to what it was, but you might have to forget about suppressants for a year at least.”

And Darling says yes, whatever it takes.

And this is how Darling had to stop taking suppressants for a year and deal with a heat every two months, and while that did indeed helped to start reverting the alteration in her glands, it also left her to deal with her own heats alone.

She never asked for help because she always knew when Simon and Johnny had their ruts, usually staying a couple days on base even though the op was over. Because she didn't want to think wrongly of them (would they be disgusted with her heat cycles just like it happened, out of the blue, in her three past relationships?), but also she really didn't want to be a bother to them. There was a reason why they stayed on base while they went through their ruts and decided not to come home to her. So she got through her heats and welcomed them both home with cuddles and stories about her job.

(Not knowing that the reason they didn't come to her while rutting, was because they didn't want to overwhelm her, and their shared ruts could get pretty rough in bed, very different from what they wanted to happen when fantasizing about you letting them take care of your heats)

And imagine once Johnny and Simon find out about this, when you tell them in the middle of a fever induced ramble, in tears.

About how Darling not only doesn't trust them to deal with her heats but is also afraid of them being disgusted with her, afraid of them abandoning her once she (in her mind) became useless to them 👁️👁️ both hurt and betrayed by this, but torn because they desperately want Darling to at least let them bring her snacks and clothes.

(But also I love the angst. It makes the thought of Johnny and Simon eventually helping Darling through her heats more satisfactory LMAO The thought of Soap and Ghost banging Darling until they kick out the insecurity out of her is tempting)

— 🫔 Anon, with love to you Peach and everyone else that's feral for omegaverse right now, just like me 🥰 fr I wish the best for you all A/B/O enthusiasts and especially for you Peach, for creating not only excellent work but also a safe space to talk about unhinged AUs<3

TAMALE 🫔 ANON 🫔 I love you and your beautiful brain. Never leave me. Stay here in our safe little au bubble forever.

And this anon! Lots of love 🩵 your brainchild really got to me

18+ MDNI / Dead Disco omegaverse au / Mature themes / I still have no idea what we're doing with these but let's go with it

At first, you think it’s a fever.

Your head is cloudy, like you’re in some sort of sick fog. You try over and over to focus on your work, but after you make the same mistake on paperwork, three times in a row.

But when your stomach starts to cramp, sweat slicking along your lower back, you know it’s not just a fever.

You know it’s something else.

You fire off an email to your boss referencing your heat leave before you lock your office for the week, week and a half you’ll be gone.

You’re not particularly ready for this one. You haven’t gone to the grocery store. You haven’t washed your linens, haven’t collected the usual pile of hoodies and shirts for nesting.

Not to mention, the timing. The guys have already been gone for two weeks. They could come home in the middle of it, could discover your lie, all your lies. About the suppressants. About your feelings. About the truth.

“You have to come off the suppressants.” You blink, trying to register her words.

“N-no. I… I can’t.” She doesn’t understand. You can’t go off your suppressants. The guys… they share each other’s ruts, they don’t need a heat cycle on top of it.

She says your name with sigh, before glancing at you over her glasses, lips twisted.

“Are you in safe place now? A safe home? With a pack?”

“Yes but they’re not my mates, obviously.” You’ve always been insistent that you don’t need the bite to be with the guys, that you don’t need a heat to be in a relationship with them. That you’re enough, the way you are. After what happened to you in your young life, you had vowed to stay on suppressants for the rest of your life. And even though they didn’t know the truth of everything, they supported you.

And they’ve always agreed. They’ve never pushed you, about the suppressants. Never tried to bully you or convince you otherwise. They’ve always told you they love you, no matter what.

But will they feel the same now? If you change? If you turn into some heat driven Omega?

They already have each other to satisfy themselves. Would they even know what to do with a heat? Would they even want to?

“You’re in a safe place. Your life has changed so much, don’t you think it’s time you give yourself a chance?” She doesn’t get it. They won’t want this. Won’t want you.

“I can’t, I-“

“It’s your decision to make, but I want you to be fully aware of the risks. The suppressants are impacting your ability to produce pheromones. If it continues, your fertility will also be negatively affected.” Your stomach sinks like a stone. Fertility. The one thing you and Johnny and Simon whisper about in the dark sometimes, a baby, or two, a family. “Do you understand?” She’s kind, sympathetic but firm, and you nod.

“Yes.”

You’ve known there’s something amiss with you, and your cycle. That there’s something wrong with your heats. You spend most of them in the closet, or under the bed, fighting flashbacks of your past and trying bring yourself relief to no avail. When you come out of them, you’re often confused. Disorientated. Missing entire days. It’s almost like you’re not even really there, and sometimes you catch yourself rubbing your gland with your wrist, trying to mimic a scenting by an Alpha. One of your Alphas.

Google tells you that it’s common for traumatized Omegas to react this way. That Omegas who have been abandoned or lost their mates, often try to self soothe during their cycles. Omegas who have been abused.

You usually stop doom scrolling once you get to articles about failed bonds and bites, opting to to bury your face in one of the pillows, trying not to scream out your frustration. Trying to to get lost in your own panic, the fog that’s settling further and further into your mind, making it harder for you discern fact from fiction.

Eventually, you can’t fight it anymore. Your instincts take over, pushing into a space that feels too warm, too close, while your body rages, stomach twisting up in awful cramps. You burrow yourself in the closet, piling your blankets and pillows and articles of clothing until it feels almost right.

It does nothing to drown out the thoughts in your head. Your hindbrain is in control now. It’s taken over, buried common sense for instinct.

It’s not right. Your mates aren’t here. They left you. Your Alphas don’t want you.

You have no mates. No one to breed you. No one to give you what you need.

You’re alone. You’re not safe.

It’s going to happen again.

“Omega?” There’s a voice, calling to you. Two scents that are familiar, woodsmoke and gunpowder, juniper and ocean spray. “Hey, there ye are.”

A hand reaches towards you, and you press yourself against the wall. Don’t touch. Don’t let them touch.

“Darling,” that name. You know that name. “it’s okay. It’s us, you’re alright.”

#🫔 anon #peaches asks #dead disco omegaverse au #peaches writes

624 notes · View notes

peachfridges · 9 months

Text

nsfw under the cut!

leon who loves everything about you and never fails to let you know it, always complimenting you and praising you.

leon who is on his way home from a mission and is solely thinking of returning home to you. even during a mission when he catches his thoughts wondering, you’re at the forefront of them.

leon who, no matter what, will kiss your face wherever you are. at a fancy dinner hosted by the president? he’s kissing your cheek. at a bar? he’s kissing your forehead before he goes to order drinks.

leon who takes you out on late night drives if you’ve had a rough day at work so you can listen to music or vent about any of your struggles (i promise he won’t crash x).

leon who helps you through any mental health issues you may have as he understands what it’s like to feel hopeless, etc. the man will do anything for you fr.

leon who is so kind to your parents and older/younger sibling(s). he’ll treat them like his own and they all love him <3

leon who will always treat you even when you refuse to let him pay for something. ice cream? he’s paying. dinner? his card’s already out. a quick stop at the gas station for some snacks? he knows exactly what your craving and is already back in the car.

leon who talks you through it. you’re his sweet one, his good girl/boy. he knows you and your body like the back of his hand so best believe he knows how to make you feel good.

leon who, after a rough mission, pins you against the wall and kisses you roughly until you’re both breathless.

leon who can’t keep his hands off you when you’re getting ready, and places kisses and hickeys down ur neck and collarbone so everyone knows you’re his.

leon who basically worships the ground you walk on and loves every part of you and wants everyone to know!

notes: had to write for my fav man! pls send requests for him i love leon with my whole heart :(

#resident evil leon #resident evil #resident evil 2 #re4 #re4 leon #re2 leon #re2 #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x you

749 notes · View notes

cheesycatz · 22 days

Text

Wow! It only took me 966 days of Spamton brainrot to make an actual reference

(text ver under cut)

- Based on ventriloquist dummies and ball-jointed dolls, both of which require strings in order to move

- Bird nostrils: one of the only remaining "addison" features (also I didn't want to make him a chronic mouth-breather)

- Black hair is permanent from puppetification shenanigans

- Widow's peak to make him more skeletal

- Eyes, teeth, and muscles visible through joints are the only biological bits that haven't been covered by the plastic exoskeleton

- Scratches and yellowing across the plastic epidermis

- Tattered suit jacket and dress shirt; repaired with messy stitches and patches on elbows

- Joints poke out weirdly under suit, especially in the torso area

- Toes, tail, fur, skin, and part of his fingers are missing—destroyed in puppetification process

- Seam lines on body to mimic manufactured dolls

- Four fingers because bird

- Shoe-esque feet

- Where are his pants? Top 10 Questions Science Can't Answer

- Technically had an underbite? Your lower teeth are not supposed to be directly below the upper teeth

- "Ball jointed body"—he still has muscle, organs, etc. under the plastic

- Animatronic puppet eyes

- Lazy eye? He just like me fr

- Had blue eyes, but they're more gray at this point

- Pipis are, uh... he canonically makes nests for his eggs of unknown origin, I guess

- Jacket is longer in the back and ripped at the seam

- Design is meant to work in a 3D environment; AKA no weird v-tuber hair flipping when he's facing forwards so he looks more "real"

- Flesh under his chin where the puppet jaw connects to his actual jaw hinge

- Glasses are screens & clear on his end

- Lenses glow

- He controls what [the lenses] display when he's not having one of his frequent mental breakdowns

- Four hair spikes on top make his mullet look less weird from the front

- Blue tongue (mandatory Spamton design element)

- Addison Spam: 4 ft 11 in without those heels

- Puppet Spam: 3 ft 6 in - height of a ventriloquist dummy

- Puppetification: he slowly transformed into a living puppet due to his exposure to supernatural forces beyond reality. He was mostly unaware until he was on the streets due to his desecrated mental state.

skill issue

- Most shrinkage is from his legs getting shorter from the puppetification

i think i have developed chronic spamton wasting disease

#spamton #spamton fanart #deltarune #deltarune fanart #deltarune chapter 2 #spamton g spamton #traditional art #cheesycatz art posts #crusty diseased dumpster puppet <3

157 notes · View notes

shootingmorningstar · 3 months

Note

[slides on in] well hello there fellow lucifer fanatic

could i request some hcs with luci and an indecisive reader? gn and established relationship!! ex: he asks what they want for dinner and they panic trying to pick something because they feel like they need to decide right then and there or they’ll annoy him.

please and thank you! 🫶

anon, you're just like me fr. i also can never make up my mind and love lucifer. i'd be happy to write this for you .ᐟ

thank you for my first request, by the way ~ .ᐟ now to get to the good part.

LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X GN! INDECISIVE READER

Look at this man. This is the man who has piles upon piles of rubber ducks in his workshop. You cannot tell me Lucifer isn't also indecisive, at least when it comes to less serious things.

Seriously. You expect me to believe he hasn't looked at his own work and went 'nope, looks bad. starting over.' .ᐣ

With that being said, I think he would find it an incredibly endearing trait in you. The concentrated face you make when you're stuck between two options .ᐣ Absolutely adorable.

That is, until the unsure and conflicted look on your face morphs into one telling of your anxiety and worry.

Now, I hope you'll excuse the bird pun, but he is absolutely a mother hen type.

The second he sees even a hint of panic on your face .ᐣ He's immediately shifting all of his focus on you -- if it hadn't been already.

He's rushing over to you without you having to so much as ask -- his beloved partner, distressed .ᐣ No matter the reason, that won't do. He won't rest until he sees you smiling again.

Wrapping his arms around you in a hug, likely even his wings, too. He's suffered so many panic attacks before, he knows just how miserable they are.

He wishes you had come into his life earlier so you could of comforted him through the worst of his.

Even if your panic hasn't dissolved into a full blown attack, he is there. His touch is grounding, it helps you calm down and come back to reality.

When your heart's stopped racing and you look as if you're able to talk about it, he'll ask you just what has you so distressed.

Don't even bother trying to lie to him. He can tell when someone's hiding their feelings.

He won't force you to tell him, though. He just wants to know what went wrong so he can help prevent it from happening again.

If you decide to share your worries with him, he wouldn't belittle you in the slightest. Is it time you need .ᐣ You two have all the time in the world.

Would you rather he choose .ᐣ Because he wouldn't mind.

Or if it's something more serious, he offers to sit down with you and discuss the pros and cons of each -- maybe you two can come up with a decision together .ᐣ

His face sort of falls if you decide to tell him part of the reasoning behind your anxiety is a fear that you'll end up annoying him. Did he do something to make you think he'd judge you .ᐣ

Or maybe he got short with you .ᐣ He's so apologetic. He wants you to feel like you can share anything and everything with him.

He won't let himself start feeling overwhelmed with guilt, though. This moment is about you and the reassurance you need, not his guilt issues.

Explain to him that you know he'd never do such a thing and that it's just an irrational thought coming from worry and he's taking your face into his hands, telling you that he would never, ever think less of you, much less get upset over something as silly as struggling to make a choice.

Like he said earlier, let him help you choose. You two are stronger together and this is no exception.

He's always soft to you, but count on him being even more so than usual for the rest of the night. You two can watch your favorite show or movie -- or whatever you'd like to do to destress. ♡

first request finished ~ .ᐟ how'd I do .ᐣ i'd love to hear your thoughts. feedback fuels my writing muse more than anything else .ᐟ

i'm really hoping this formats correctly, i'm used to using the tumblr app && currently stuck on laptop </3

#hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #admin kitty #lucifer morningstar

201 notes · View notes

dawndelion-winery · 10 months

Text

For Worse or For Better

Arranged Marriages

Ft. Diluc, Itto, Childe, Kaeya, Zhongli

Diluc:

Your parents were wonderfully close to Crepus, so you knew Diluc from young

He'd always been well-mannered and lovely

That much didn't change even after his trauma

It did hurt when he started shutting you out though

And yes, you did try to call off the engagement that had been set up before Crepus died because you felt he wanted to distance himself from you

You'd only kept it to honour the man's wishes and because Diluc seemed adamant about you

Like, he actually said he would not have anyone else

Not that he pressured you into it though

More of letting you know you didn't have to end it because he most definitely did want you

"Make no mistake, you will be the only person I recite my vows to at the altar. If you long for another, then so be it, but if you want me, then it shall be so."

Itto:

How did this happen?

No, like, fr, how??? Itto doesn't seem like the type to have any thoughts for social climbing and you...well what do you gain from marrying Itto?

Apparently your mother had heard Kujou Sara speak highly of Kuki Shinobu, and since Shinobu worked for Itto, surely he must be a man of even greater talent and character

Now you were having dinner with an extremely boisterous man who ate for three

By the shogun you hoped the bill wouldn't amount to too much

When he suggested a dine and dash? Boy, you were about to just walk right into a cell yourself

It was truly some grace of God that Shinobu came by with Sara and covered your tab (only for you, they made sure to tell Itto off for putting you in such a situation)

"Real sorry about that, honey," the oni said sheepishly. You wanted to hmgive him a piece of your mind, really, when you were certain you'd never hear the end of it at home of you'd gotten a criminal record, but when he slipped his hand in yours, a sheepish grin as he looked at you hopefully, as though pleasing for forgiveness, you found it rather difficult to stay mad.

Childe:

People would kill to be you

The dashing young harbinger?? Who's great with kids??? And very much a family man????

There was only one issue: he hadn't met you yet

His family had written to him about you, eagerly telling him how they were sure they'd found him the perfect match

And he wasn't about to shoot them down when they were so hopeful he'd finally have someone when he was travelling and doing the Fatui's dirty work all the time

So when they'd warmly welcomed you into their home for a simple dinner, you hadn't expected to walk in and see a feast prepared with an empty seat beside yours

You waited for a bit with everyone, wondering who the extra seat was for

And when Childe walked in with a sack full of gifts for all his family members, you sat there awkwardly

Was it an endearing sight? Definitely. But you felt out of place as he pulled out one item after another for everyone

You were certain you wouldn't receive anything, hence the surprise when he sat beside you and handed you a small box

"A little engagement gift for you," he winked. Your mouth hung open, thoughts racing through your mind full of things you wanted to say but weren't sure how - especially not in front of such a crowd, all of whom aww'ed at his gesture. It was after dinner when you'd gotten him alone in the kitchen washing the dishes that you addressed it.

"Engaged? We've only just met Tartaglia."

He tsked at you, playfully leaning in as though he was going to kiss your cheek. When you froze, he grinned by your ear.

"My whole family likes you well enough, and from everything they've told me, I like you well enough too. But if you insist, ice a week before I have to head off. I'm sure I could sweep you off your feet by then, unless you'd like to come with."

Kaeya:

Oh you thought you got lucky when your childhood betrothed grew up to be the charming cavalry captain

Until you realised that charm would never be extended to you because he was just a goofball with you

It was cute though, him picking flower petals with you to determine how your relationship will go

He had a habit of leaving the plucked flower and its final petal with the result on your pillow

(it was always "forever in love" because if it wasn't, he'd just pluck another flower)

You sighed with a laugh at the familiar sight of the plucked flower when you felt arms around your waist as Kaeya embraced you from behind.

You wondered bitterly if there was something wrong between the two of you; you never had that flutter of butterflies in your gut when he was around. Not once did he make your heart leap out of your chest, or cause your lungs to constrict in a way you were sure would suffocate you. Was it a mistake? Yet it didn't feel wrong. There was a frost to his touch that cooled you, calmed you, and almost (most ironically) warmed you.

Zhongli:

Under no circumstances would you ever meet someone who quite commanded the respect and attention of those around him like Rex Lapis did

So when the hooded figure stood before the citizens who so worshiped him, some overly devoted follower enthusiastically proposed a raffle to offer the god a spouse to serve and dote upon him on behalf of the nation

Before he'd even had the chance to decline the offer, the crowd erupted in cheers of agreement, and the flustered god was ushered into a seat as eligible spouses presented themselves before him

You truly had not anticipated the glint that flashed across his eyes as he ever so slightly raised his hood to make eye contact with you

It had been less than a second, and yet all too long as your lungs failed you, the startling amber glow leaving you winded

"I quite like you," he drawled in a low, rumbling hum as he rose from his seat. You looked around, ascertaining that no one else had seen his face, but he didn't seem to like that, as he tilted your chin to have you look at him. Once again, you were faced with the startling gleam of his eyes, so reptilian and sharp. You screwed your eyes shut as he leaned in, the sunlight reflected off his canines. His lips were warm, surprisingly, as they pressed against your forehead.

Taglist: @myluvkeiji @aqui-soba @favonius-captain @tiredsleep @raincxtter @gensimping-for-all @irethepotato @almond-adeptus @mx-kamisato @chaosinanutshell @heizours @haliyamori @callmemeelah @sadlonelybagel @plinkuro @thevictoriousmoon @mastering-procrastinating @cxlrose @astrequa @eowinthetraveler @ajaxstar @boundedbyfate @the-lost-anime-dad @moonbyunniee @greyrain23 @heavenlyfloof

828 notes · View notes

pastanest · 2 months

Text

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

A/N: returned from me depressive episode for a professor reid fic BARK BARK ANG ANG ANG GO MY TEETH ON THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE daddy issues? gottem! 🤠 pls lmk if you guys think a part two’s needed for this one bc I’m honestly torn??

warnings: age gap baby we out here fr (but it’s all wholesome bc Spencer isn’t a creep x)

Someday

Graduating from university was a bittersweet experience for you. On the one hand, you achieved exactly what you set out to, exceeding your own expectations in your capabilities as a student and working towards your dream career; you had dedicated years of your life to your course and earned a sense of pride in yourself that you had only previously hoped for; you had made friends you hoped to keep in touch with for the rest of your life, but even if you didn’t, they were established pillars to you, memories you would never lose, wrapped up in the campus of your university. On the other hand, one lingering thought was enough to sour the joy you felt. One isolated thought, as you celebrated with your friends with graduation caps flying overhead and cheers erupting all around you. Because while everyone was lost in the celebration, you were distracted from it, pulled by a gravity that others appeared to be immune to. Through the crowds, you locked eyes with a man who had made the last year of your course the most important of all. The smile on your face softened, and his matched yours, the same thought floating from your gaze to his: this was to be the last time the two of you could ever hope to cross paths. You were no longer part of the campus, instead, you were to be on your way to your dream career, while he stayed put, watching you fly away like a dove against a perfect landscape.

To you, Doctor Spencer Reid had singlehandedly revived the joy and drive you felt when, by the last year of your university course, those aspects of you had begun to dwindle. He was the best professor you had ever had, becoming your favourite from his first guest lecture. It had been so profoundly impactful to you that when he waved off the other students in the hall as they left, you stayed behind to personally thank him. You divulged the length of your course, how strenuous the workload had begun to feel, but how his passion for profiling had given you a second wind. To Spencer, you were the first spark of light he’d seen since getting out of prison; you looked at him like he was something special, something good, and while he couldn’t thank you for that without becoming far too emotionally intimate with you, you became the reason he sought out a permanent position at your university. If he could make the difference in one person’s life, encourage someone into the career he loved while trying his best to prepare them for the hardships he hadn’t been ready for prior to joining the BAU, perhaps that could play a part in him redeeming himself. Viewing himself as worthy of the way you had looked at him, the day you had met.

Truthfully, Spencer’s intentions with you had been nothing but sincere. He knew you were an attractive young woman, but that was an observation he would make had he only passed you in the street in a fleeting moment; it neither added nor subtracted to his motivations, his existing desire to teach, to help, to inspire - if he dared wish he was capable of such a thing. When you returned to your campus after a weekend barricaded in your dorm, studying in a heap of your own making, to find Doctor Spencer Reid had taken over the majority of lecture slots on your course, to say you were overjoyed would have been an understatement. The grin you gave him when you entered the lecture hall, and the smile he returned, felt like the world’s most wholesome secret; both of you aware you’d played a part in each other’s being there that neither of you understood the scale of.

From then, the two of you became as friendly as two adults in your positions as a professor and student could, within the bounds of what was appropriate. You would share smiles at the beginning end of every lecture, he would praise your constant ability to hand essays in early, you would retort by praising his continual skill at holding your attention in the topics he delivered and thus being the reason you felt inspired to hand in said essays early. Outside of the lecture hall, you would smile at each other across campus in the event you crossed paths. While it was true that it did seem the two of you were more aware of each other’s presences than you perhaps should be - like a sixth sense for the arrival of the other, looking around until your eyes or his found the other, knowing you would be somewhere close by, somehow - it was not something either of you acknowledged. The tether was as invisible as it was deliberately ignored.

Naturally, your friends would often joke that you were no more than a silly girl with a crush, but even they knew that was not the case. There was nothing immature about the way you felt, or the way you handled it. Yes, it was inappropriate of you to feel as giddy as you did before each of his lectures, daydream of him in between said lectures, and spend far too long swooning at the memory of the one occasion in which his fingertips brushed yours when you handed him an essay you’d completed early, but you were sensible enough to keep those things to yourself. The alternative timeline you dreamt of, where the two of you had met in different circumstances and thus been allowed to pursue whatever it was in the societal norm of two consenting adults, where you shared walks in the park hand in hand, cooked dinner together, discussed baby names - that was entirely fictional and safe in your own head. While you acknowledged they were inappropriate, you allowed yourself to enjoy the pleasant feelings, knowing you could never act on them, and that the time you had together was counting to a definitive end. That is what made the feelings harmless; you knew they couldn’t last.

In Spencer’s mind, things were quite different. He thought he had a knowledge on love and its many forms, though his own experiences were limited, his eidetic memory was painfully keen to remind him of the tales of unrequited love he had read and applied to himself throughout his life. He remembers well, what it was like to be a boy and feel like a particular girl in his class was the center of his solar system, but he had been laboring under the misapprehension that such feelings were restricted to when he had been a boy. Of course, Spencer repressed every trace of feeling he felt for you with an efficiency like you would not believe; not only because love had burned him in the past, but because he knew, as you did, this couldn’t develop or last in any conceivable way. It was doomed. A tragedy already written. He had accepted that as you had, and for the most part, he lived in a peaceful sense of denial about any feelings existing between the two of you. It was only in isolated moments, his resolve crumbled. Every single time you had smiled at him, something had fluttered in his stomach, a palpable skip of his heart was felt in his chest; physical symptoms such as that, he couldn’t deny. He was a man of science, who existed to deny every detail of you that enamored him, until your fingertips brushed his when you passed him another essay you’d completed early, and suddenly the universe around him fell back into place. Every star flickered in the sky above him, an eclipse over his heart that allowed a momentary lapse of judgment, just a microsecond in which he was defenseless to the montage of you that played in his mind of an entirely hypothetical future that could never be.

That day, and that last shared gaze, you knew you had no choice. You were powerless to the pull of him, and you pushed through the crowds at the same time as he was already turning to you, knowing you were on your way before you’d even decided it for yourself.

“Professor Reid.” You greeted him, as professionally as ever, and his smile widened into a chuckle, your own smile growing at the sound.

“(Y/N).” He nodded at you in a polite gesture of respect. “Congratulations. You earned every second of today’s celebrations.”

You felt your cheeks warm, and you avoided Spencer’s eyes shyly, glancing at the grass beneath your shoes and his.

“Thank you, Professor, I…I just wanted to thank you, again, for everything. I can’t wait to brag to every profiler I meet that I was lectured by THE Doctor Spencer Reid!” You couldn’t resist teasing him just a little, even in the midst of your sincere gratitude.

That earned another quiet laugh from Spencer, as you’d predicted it would.

“I’m hardly deserving of being your bragging right, or subject to your gratitude. You got yourself here, I was just lucky enough to be a part of it. I hope to see your name appearing in solved cases before long.” He beamed at you.

“I’ll make sure they only ever put my name in with credits to you in brackets right next to it.” You joked, rolling your eyes playfully at Spencer’s implication of you being on your way to cracking criminal cases in no time.

“I’ll keep an eye out for that, too, then.” He amended, his smile softening at the same rate yours did with the subtext of his words sinking in: he’d be watching out for you and your successes, wishing you the best all the way.

“Don’t go retiring early now, I’m counting on seeing you in the field someday!” You raised an eyebrow at Spencer, and the slightest hint of a smirk curled at the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, you don’t need to worry, I’ve got my reasons for sticking around for a while.” He nodded to you, then looked over your shoulder and nodded at your friends. “I think your presence is being requested elsewhere.”

Glancing back over your shoulder, following his gaze, you saw your friends waving you over, and you sighed. If only you could freeze the world around you. But, there was a countdown with every moment spent in Spencer’s company, as there had always been.

“Yeah.” You breathed, turning to face him again. “See…your name someday, I guess.” Your eyebrows furrowed, unsure of what the correct terminology for a goodbye such as that was.

But Spencer snickered, so whatever words you’d chosen were the right ones.

“Yes. See your name, someday.”

With that, you headed back over to your friends, casting one last look over your shoulder to find Spencer still watching after you with a softness in his eyes that you’d not seen before, because usually he had enough time to compose himself before you caught him. You waved at him like it was just another instance of crossing paths on campus, and he returned it, before your shared gaze was swallowed by the crowds, and you were whisked away by your friends.

They say time flies when you’re having fun, but you would be the first to argue that time also flies when you are going through rigorous training and extreme stress almost everyday for over a year. There were moments of fun during it, of course, but for the most part, the mental and physical strain was an endurance test that you were far too stubborn to allow to get the best of you. Nobody ever gave you the impression that the FBI academy was an easy avenue, and your favorite professor had warned you of the most challenging aspects of the training in advance. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought of him during the most difficult points of the past year; the advice he’d bestowed upon you had proven to be infinitely valuable already, and whenever you happened to mention him to others, the expressions of shock and awe you’d receive were testament to the fact he very much had been worthy of being your bragging right - if you could see him once more just to say “I told you so”, you’d take the chance in a heartbeat.

You hadn’t expected to be effectively scouted as quickly as you were, following university. Originally, you had your heart set on some local police work, hoping to climb the rankings and edge your way towards the FBI that way, to have some experience in the field to assist you going forward. Fate had been on your side when you were given the opportunity to showcase your skills on a particularly challenging case that the local police force you worked with were not equipped to handle. A couple of FBI agents had been sent to assist with the case, and by the end of it, the two of them gave you a recommendation to the academy.

In the year that’s passed since, you have done everything in your power to prove yourself to be exceptional, and now, you are taking the elevator to the floor dedicated to the Behavioural Analysis Unit. Everything you have been working towards has built up to this moment, and while it is only an introduction to the team, you were the only one amongst your peers to be offered this opportunity. There are no vacancies on the team, as far as you’re aware, so they aren’t urgently in need of anyone, meaning you are likely being recommended to shadow them, which could lead to a permanent role if you play your cards right. Once that is secured, all of your hard work will have paid off, the years of your life you have thrown into this will have been worth every second, every tear, every drop of sweat.

The elevator dings, and you take a deep breath. The second the doors open, you step out of them, only to be greeted by a dark haired woman who has an intimidating stance until she sees you, and then she’s smiling, holding her hand out for you to shake.

“(Y/N), I assume? Great to meet you, I’m Emily Prentiss, the Unit Chief.” She introduces herself, and your eyes very nearly fall right out of your head as you nod, shaking her hand.

“Oh, wow, it’s amazing to meet you! My whole class has heard so much about you!” It’s an exclamation you try your best to deliver as calmly as you can, but you are substantially awestruck.

“That’s very sweet of you,” Emily’s smile warms as she lets go of your hand. “-I’ve been hearing a lot of good things about you, too - your training coordinator’s been singing your praises.” She expresses, gesturing for you to walk with her.

You scoff, feeling a little bashful, but still proud of how far you’ve come.

“He’s not been annoyingly insistent about passing me off to you guys, has he?” You joke with a cringing expression, causing Emily to laugh as she holds the glass doors to the bullpen open for you, shaking her head.

“No, no, not at all! I actually requested you come up here; given how well you’re doing, and this is where you’ve stated your goal is, I figured it’d be good for you to learn what you can while the team’s in a stable position.” She explains, and you nod along, keeping your eyes fixed on her as she talks, wanting to take in her every word.

You know what she’s trying to say; you’d been right that the team don’t necessarily need you right now, but that’s a good thing - it means you’re safe to learn at your own pace, without any pressure of being expected to take on the role right away, you’re just here to learn.

“That’s reassuring, thank you.” You smile at Emily, and she returns it.

Walking through the bullpen, Emily takes the time to introduce you to the different members of the team, and you use that as an opportunity to profile what you can about them. Emily has evidently always been a natural leader, but she’s not quite comfortable in her position yet. Luke is the epitome of the golden retriever personality, Tara is total badass but still a sweetheart, Rossi seems to be the father figure of the group but begrudgingly, JJ is a very protective mother figure despite being around the same age as a few members of the team, and Penelope is the sweetest woman to ever exist - not too difficult to suss them out.

“It’s such an honor to meet all of you!” You’re gushing unabashedly, but you can’t help it; the thought of working with these people is literally a dream come true for you.

“She says that, and she hasn’t even met our genius yet!” Luke laughs, waving the file in his hands before setting it down on a very neatly organized desk. But, something on that folder catches your eye.

It couldn’t be. It absolutely couldn’t be.

“Sorry, can I see that?” Your heart is already pounding.

Frowning in confusion, Luke passes you the folder he’d just set down, and you take it with clammy, shaking hands. Your eyes scan over the printed text at the top of the brown folder, not opening it to view the contents within, because the front was enough to make your stomach flip.

See your name, someday.

The team of profilers that surround you are exchanging glances, and it doesn’t take them long - considering their unique skill set - to come to a conclusion.

“Have you…heard of Spencer?” JJ poses the question to you as gently and vaguely as she can, and you nod unsteadily.

Do you-? In the alternative timeline you entertain inside your own head, you are happily married to that man with three kids and a house with a wraparound porch. Do you know him?

It takes a few seconds for you to regulate yourself enough to look up from the folder and place it back on the desk that you now recognise has to be Spencer’s. Clearing your throat, you laugh at yourself awkwardly.

“Yeah, uh, he was actually a professor at my university, just over a year ago.” You elaborate, feeling like you almost have no choice, given the way your own reaction outed yourself.

In the adrenaline rush that hasn’t left you since being sent to the BAU floor, you’d failed to connect the dots in your own mind, or maybe you didn’t want to get your hopes up in believing that he’s still part of this specific team. That today, he happened to be in the office, not away on a case, or lecturing somewhere, or literally anywhere other than right where you were due to be today.

The team exchange glances again, a silent conversation, but this time it’s one of understanding rather than confusion. All at once, they’re starting to smile at you.

It isn’t your business, so they don’t go into detail, only divulging to you that Spencer hasn’t been himself lately because his mother has been unwell and that it shouldn’t be fatal, but because that’s the only family he really has, he’s been worrying himself exponentially. Regularly stepping out of whatever room the team are in to call the hospital, or talk to his mother directly, and barely talking to the team about it whenever they ask about it. The reason they tell you this is because, knowing Spencer as well as they do, your presence can most definitely serve as the perfect pick-me-up to his presently busy and anxious mind - so, you and the team quickly form a plan.

Twenty minutes or so later, Spencer steps back into the bullpen with a forlorn expression; the vision of a man with every ounce of life pulled from him, drained beyond belief. He barely acknowledges Emily or JJ - the rest of the team being in Penelope’s office, watching via the security cameras and her monitors - instead moving past them, towards his desk.

“How is she, Spence?” JJ asks softly, patting his back in an effort to reassure him.

“Mom refused to pass the phone to the doctors and couldn’t even tell me if she’d taken her antibiotics for today.” He all but collapses into his chair, eyes closing in a pained blink.

Phone calls with his mother have often been difficult, but when she’s sick, her schizophrenia and consequential lack of trust makes them especially so; convinced the government are listening, she won’t relay what medicine she’s taken or when, and without confirmation from a doctor, Spencer has no way of knowing whether his mother is actually recovering from any other sickness that ails her.

“I’m so sorry, Spencer.” Emily sighs, looking at him with sympathetic eyes, and Spencer can only nod his thanks.

Opening his eyes, he looks for something - anything - to distract himself. His gaze lands on the folder on his desk, and he picks it up absentmindedly. It’s then, Emily and JJ take their cue to leave, pretending they have a very good reason to head into Emily’s office and close the door behind them; pretending they aren’t discretely peeking through the closed blinds.

Vision not entirely focussed, Spencer flips the folder over with a sigh, barely glancing over the front of it, until something sparks to life in the mess of his mind. He pauses, frowns, and looks back over the front of the folder. His chest feels tight.

“Folder contents to be provided to: Agent (Y/N) (Y/L/N) - (with credits to Doctor Spencer Reid).”

Spencer stands from his desk like he’s been electrocuted, looking around the now empty bullpen and immediately realizing that his team, his beloved friends, his family have helped plan something just for him, and his heart is already racing.

His lips part to call your name, but no sound comes. It doesn’t need to; his heart has been singing it in a secret mantra, everyday since he last saw you. Summoning you, but taking its sweet time.

On the other side of the bullpen, you rise from where you’d been hiding under one of the other desks, out of Spencer’s line of sight, now appearing before him. Your gaze locks with his from across the room, a desk’s distance separating you, but it doesn’t obstruct the tether even remotely. Nothing ever has.

Spencer watches as time slows to reveal a smile spreading across your face, one that is so beautifully familiar he has to catch his breath before remembering his own smile. Every detail of you, he recognises. The color of your eyes, your lips, your hair - each and every one, his favorite shades to ever exist. He notices every minuscule detail of you that has changed in the time that has passed, and immediately finds himself listing praise after praise towards each and every one, in the confines of the mind you have enchanted to emptiness. While his conscious mind has continued to deny the power you hold over him, his subconscious mind has been plagued by dreams of the way he’d hold your hand, the kisses he’d leave on your cheeks, should you ever be so gracious as to bestow the honor upon him. He was foolish to even try and convince himself that your beauty was a passing observation; should he ever dare think such a blasphemous thought again, he’ll request a psych eval on himself.

“Hi.” He breathes, too lost for words to say anything else.

“Hi, Professor.” You answer, the sound of your voice that of his favorite song returning to him after far too long.

“You aren’t required to call me that now, you realize.” Spencer clarifies, an almost imperceptibly playful tone laced into his words.

“Should I call you Doctor Reid, then?” You offer, raising your eyebrow at him, as though challenging him.

He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, but he’s walking towards you, closing every inch of space he can’t allow to exist for another second, until only the desk separates you.

“Just Spencer, would be preferable.” His own voice is softer than he’s ever heard it.

“In that case, I look forward to working with you, Spencer.” You beam, placing deliberate emphasis on his name and holding your hand out to him.

Every thought he has ever had about every germ that has ever existed, erases itself from his mind. He doesn’t hesitate.

“Likewise. It would seem my list of reasons to delay retirement has just grown exponentially.” Spencer’s hand reaches for yours, shaking it so gently - his hand very nearly swallowing yours and not letting go for anything - crossing the only barrier and turning the tether into something tangible, for the very first time. The spark that previously only existed between your eyes, bursts to life in a warmth that blossoms between your hands now, but not just there. It lingers everywhere. It’s in your cheeks, already aching from how hard you’ve been smiling at each other, and it’s in your chests, your hearts fighting with equal strength to forego your ribcages and fly away; a pair of doves into a perfect landscape.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #imagine #imagines #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #headcannon #headcannons #criminal minds imagine

232 notes · View notes

hyperfixatedbastard · 3 months

Note

Hi i hope you doing well. I have a resquest... more like a headcanon. What if Adam was a dad ? What his behaviour will be ? Does he be a good or a bad father ?

I understand if you don't do it. I don't want to force you for something you don't want to.

Dadam (Dad!Adam) Headcanons

we bringing out the daddy issues on this one boys

WARNINGS: none

A/N: I haven't done a headcanon type of post yet, but they're easier to write than regular one shots and I'm too tired for that shit. The request didn't specify what kind of Reader (spouse or child), so I just went with general headcanons that don't specify the Reader at all. Insert yourself as you wish!

Also, thank you all for your patience! It's been very busy for me lately and I've been too exhausted to write much, so expect a lot more of these kinds of posts (the formatting is easier and I don't have to write a bunch of dialogue lol).

Dividers

As the father of humanity, Adam had...a lot of kids. The guy lived for 800+ years just populating the earth. That's a LOT of kids. We all know how the first two turned out. That is, not fuckin' well. To be honest, I don't think Adam valued his children. It was just kinda... a thing he had to do. (When Abel died and Cain got exiled, he fr just went and had another kid to replace them.) But I am in deep, deep denial and this is for my enjoyment as someone with severe daddy issues. So fuck all that.

At first, Adam is 100% the guy that freaks the fuck out when he finds out he knocked someone up. That man is SWEATING. He's actually pretty chill if it's someone he's in an established long-term relationship with, though. He still freaks the fuck out, but to a significantly lesser degree and with a much smaller chance of up and leaving. Once he's over the initial shock, he's shocked to find that he's kind of excited. Back when he was alive, having kids was just normal because it was such a common occurrence.

This man knows every little detail about pregnancy and infants. With the amount of kids he's had? He has seen it ALL. Sure, all his information is thousands of years old, but knowledge learned through experience is super valuable when it comes to this shit! He doesn't know what the fuck a uterus is, but he knows exactly how to make his partner the most comfortable, how to deal with cravings, etc. If his partner has a problem, he's got a solution. It might be a fuckin' weird one, but it works! He'll probably grumble and complain, but he doesn't actually mean it. Bitching is just his thing, y'know? But... pregnancy hormones + Adam's douchebag-ness = feelings getting hurt. If his partner starts crying because of some shit joke or complaint he made? He's scrambling so fast. "Shit, babe, fuck, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, fuckfuckfuck, don't cry—"

Once the baby is born, he definitely surprises literally everyone but his partner by actually doing helpful shit. Changing diapers? Easy fuckin' peasy (he does watch a tutorial online because he doesn't know how tf modern diapers work but he's a fast learner) Feeding? No problemo. Getting up in the middle of the night to do both of those things? His sleep schedule's already fucked, this shit ain't new.

When it comes to parenting and raising the kid, though... that's definitely where Adam struggles. He'd struggle with bonding. A lot. Adam mostly talks about things that you really shouldn't say around children, much less bond over. I think he'd be better at just letting the kid ramble while he's just sitting there, fully engrossed in whatever bullshit his child is saying. He's not just passively listening with little 'uh-huh's and nods, this man is active in the discussion. Have you ever heard a small child speak? They say the most random shit ever, and Adam would love it. It's peak entertainment to him. Even if it's just incoherent babbling, he'll have full-on conversations with this baby.

He'd definitely have some shared interests as the kid gets older. I think Adam's favorite shows/movies are a mix of action movies and shit like Power Rangers. He's not ashamed of it either—'fuck you, the Power Rangers are fuckin' cool.' This also goes for video games. I know that man is a toxic COD gamer boy and you can't prove me wrong. Basically, the only thing that keeps him from becoming one of those husbands that locks himself away in a man cave to play video games is the fact that he can game with his kid.

And once they get into school, he just gets really invested in the drama. Elementary school drama is such bullshit, and it'd be the best reality TV he's ever seen. "Oh, don't tell me—it's that bitch Cindy. The fuck did that little shit do this time?" He'd be gasping like it's a damn soap opera. 'Oh no she didn't!' kinda vibe.

He'd talk so much shit around his kid about the parents of their classmates, the teachers, anyone. Then the kid would repeat it and Adam would get sat down in the office with his kid like: "Your child said, and I quote, 'My dad says your mom's a bitch.'" "What? She fuckin' is." And yeah, he's not wrong - some of those parents are fucking nightmares.

If his kid got in trouble for fighting, his reaction would depend on the situation. If it was unprovoked and/or a part of bullying, he'd originally laugh it off but would be freaking the fuck out internally. He's probably a little traumatized by what happened with Cain and Abel. But if the fighting was an act of defense (whether of themselves or someone else) he would be the proudest dad ever. Fist-bumps his kid in the office in full view of the principal.

You cannot trust this man to give his kid the sex talk. It just will not go well. Like, if his kid needs advice when they're older (basically anything beyond 'where do babies come from') then he's your guy, but it's still gonna be awkward and uncomfortable. He'd probably have Lute handle most of those issues just so he doesn't have to know about his kid's sex life but can still trust that they have a responsible(?) adult if they have questions.

In terms of where Adam is lacking as a parent, there's a few areas in particular to focus on.

Emotional availability? Not his strong suit. At all. He can't deal with his own feelings, let alone his kid's. Most of the emotional support will be coming from his partner. That doesn't mean he doesn't try. But he can't show it with words all that well. He'll show emotional support in other ways—quality time, gifts, and acts of service for the most part. Like going out for ice cream, watching a movie, etc.

He's not good with discipline. To him, everything's no big deal. If his kid hasn't killed their sibling, that's good enough for him! Generally, his partner will choose when/how to discipline (with Adam's input ofc), but Adam's job is to just enforce it/not overrule it. He's 100% the type to be sneaky about it tho. If his kid is grounded, he'll go out with them to give them a break from being stuck in the house, y'know, stuff like that. Because of this, his kid forms a closer, different kind of bond than with Adam's partner. It's more friendly, I guess is the word? Like, his kid won't go to him for actual helpful advice, but if they fuck up somehow or are in a bad situation that they kinda got themselves into (drinking, car accident, etc.), then Adam is the parent they call.

I think Adam's peak parenting era would be when his kid is a late teen/young adult. 'Cause then he can actually be himself, for the most part. His personality is not very kid-friendly, so once his kid isn't really much of a kid anymore—he is so fucking excited. His relationship with his kid would be a lot more unconventional as they grow older. Like, he's really close with his kid once they're an adult. (totally not basing this off my relationship with my mom) His advice would be shit, but he'd give it if his kid needed it!

Definitely the type to text his kid more often than most parents. Mostly because he texts more like them and has the same sense of humor. Lots of shitty memes.

Also!! I think Adam would definitely make time for his partner. Date nights are a must. His kid better get comfortable with sleepovers at friends' houses or getting babysat by Emily 'cause he ain't letting parenthood fuck up his sex life.

I think that's all I got. Not sure how to end this so uh... shoutout to all you bitches with daddy issues lmao

Taglist: @little-miss-chaoss @fakeguysarehot @3sire-777

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel headcanons #headcanons #adam headcanons #hazbin headcanons #adam x reader

353 notes · View notes

queenofallimagines · 3 months

Note

Oooh I have a Obey Me writing idea for you but you can ignore if you don’t wanna do it. So when you first come to the Devildom, almost all of the brothers are cold/petty asf to the MC (in my Pisces opinion). Imagine MC’s like “fuck that” and doesn’t try to pander to them as much as the game script wants you to. Like the story still progresses bc the MC is still nosy when it counts, but she doesn’t center them around her world and instead gets closer someone who was nicer/more helpful in the beginning (say like Solomon or Simeon). I’m sorryyy I’m not hating on the brothers but realistically you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Like yeah being a tsundere is cute to an extent but most of em were doing too much in the beginning. Maybe a reaction from the brothers (doesn’t have to be specific for each brother) as they slowly start to warm up to MC but they can’t stand that they’re not gonna be as close as they wanted to be. And either Solomon or Simeon (or both) reacting to you getting closer to them ;) Again this request may be highly specific so you can either tweak it or toss it if it doesn’t sound appealing to write. It can be SFW or NSFW. I love your writing!

A/n: YOURE SO RIGHT BESTIE!! Like the dick ain’t good enough for them to be all over MC like that CRAZY disrespectful 😒 like in my head I was being fake nice to them to secure the pacts until like you make one with Satan and then it’s like okay, maybe I can be genuine w yall. Bc like I’m making friends w any of the billions of other demons there like Diavolo is all but head over heels for you.

MC:

- I’m so on board with this

- Like if they want to go low I can take it right to hell

- They want to throw UP

- Mammon thinks you’re joking but when you fr never come ask him for help he’s crying himself to sleep

- Asmo hates being ignored so after that time in the maze(catacombs? wtf was those) he’s antsy that you don’t really talk to him

- They feel you having fun through your pacts but when you’re around just them it’s like nothing

- Like when a lightbulb dies

- Student council meetings become increasingly more tense as they watch you get along with Solomon and Luke and Simeon and you’re cold to them

- They don’t even really realize they the problem at first

- Lucifer always itching to punish someone so when he snaps at you and you clapback and the issue never comes up again he’s a little disappointed

- Like him and Satan make fun of your grades?

- Bet. you’re being tutored by Solomon and a demon in your potions class

- Like bitch how the FUCK were we ever supposed to take demon philosophy before?? We just got here!!

- Refuse to work with them on any school activities

- You and mammon partnered up to decorate for some school event?

- You work only when he’s not around

- Beel is the one who sounds the alarm by realizing it’s hard to keep track of you

- Like he’ll go asking where you are and nobody can even say when the last time they saw you was

- Belphagor tried to pull that “I’m a human” shit and you didn’t visit the attic for like three weeks😭

- Had to actually force himself to be genuinely nice

- Remember how they said they sent a demon to like the human realm to pretty much do the same thing? who was that because I don’t think we ever hear about them😭

- But you get their number and talk about your shared experiences

- Fish out of water if you will!

- Lucifer WANTS to yell but you do the bare minimum of what they ask he can’t mandate you to join family movie night😔

- Asks a pouting mammon where tf you are and he lists off like any number of random demons you could be chilling with

- Asmo is burning with envy as he catches you at a party with a group of old acquaintinces

- Can see they are so obviously enjoying your company

- Tries to steal the attention for himself

- Levi seeing you on other mfs socials cosplaying w them and doing a TSL marathon like he’s right there??

- Dinner be so awkward but you brush it off like a G

- only texts the family group chat for confirmation, dinners ready, and when is lord diavolo asking for everyone

- Lucifer comes to Dia’s house bc paperwork and he plans to spill the tea when he sees you and him already HAVING TEA🤨

- Like excuse me??

- “Ah just who I was looking for-“

- “Sorry Lucifer I have exams to study for I was just asking Lord Diavolo some history questions I’ll be on my way.”

- He’s literally WILTING💀

- Whines to Dia and he’s like I’m sorry ?? have yall not been spending time with them??

- “Yall….LIVE together. I ain’t out just you and them in the same house for no reason??”

- He can’t eleven rly do shit bc you’re integrating into demon society very well and are pretty sociable

- Like you gain regular popularity but not through them

- Rest of RAD forgets you’re under their protection tbh

- Like you’re your own entity and not at all attached to them so when a random demon is caught talking about like chilling w you and mammon is like IM THEIR FIRST MAN YOU GOTTA AS ME

- he looses about 500 years when the demon goes

- “Oh yeah you are their hired help huh?”

- Yeah he’s picking out a coffin

- Bc he rly tries to curb his tsun behaviors but he hasn’t made it to that level with you where he can be genuine in private

- Levi too like he calls you a stupid normie on reflex and is whimpering when he sees he’s been blocked on devilgram

- What did yall expect??

- Beel is the ONLY one who you regularly talk to

- And even then he’s got his own stuff going on

- But you guys always eat together

- Jaws dropping when he offered you food

- I imagine Beel is like “oh they don’t be talking to yall?….That’s crazy”

- Precious boy so unaware of the conflict

- Nor bc he’s dumb but he’s like “tf that got to do with me?? MC likes me.”

- Very “okay what does that mean to me tho” energy

- I imagine after the Levi pact arc when mammon is wrapping your sprained wrist and he’s all

- “If I can’t come save ya next time, Die.”

- You pull away completely

- Even Satan is having to control himself be he sees your purposefully avoiding him

- He would congratulate you on how well you’re dodging his advances if it didn’t piss him off so bad

- Keeps it a little secret to himself that he can feel your pact mark burning right under his skin whenever you talk to them

- Played hot and cold to see how he can make you less mad when he interacts with you

- Lucifer is so desperate he’s fr about to make a pact early to feel any sort of proof you exist

- Idk if peacocks do it but you know how birds will rip out their own feathers under stress?

- Yeah That’s HIM😭

- Barbados just sit back and observe

- Even the season 3(?) characters come in early! Like you meet 13 as an extension of Solomon and y’all are thick as thieves

- You’re flourishing in your Magic practices bc you still have their pacts, them helping you with magic or not you’re still not one to be fucked with

- Mephistopheles is so giddy that you’re close to him and not Lucifer

- Offers to hide you in his news room to avoid them

- “It’s so quiet a perfect place to study!”

- Sees them scrambling to get ahold of you but your in his office w your phone on silent

- “Oh hmmm, idk I saw them in the forbidden section of the library maybe check there? Weird y’all supposed to be watching them and have no clue about their whereabouts.”

- Lucifer can take it NO LONGER when we’re about right before lesson 16 and he’s making a scene at dinner

- “Why do you never stay in this house? You a mere human think you’re too good to talk?”

- “That. That shit right there is why I don’t talk to any of you. Do you not notice how rude you are?”

- Before Satan can even say his “we’re demons” line you’re cutting his ass off

- “Why would I want to spend time around people who threaten my life for fun?🤨my job is to heal demon human relations and I’m doing that just not with the help of YOU.”

- Dips to purgatory hall bc it’s not Solomon’s night to cook

- They all just kinda 🧍🧍🧍🧍🧍🧍for a few days bc wtf can they say to that??

- Like you’re absolutely right

- You were already humbling Lucifer before but now he has this irrational anger towards you

- But in a nice way??

- He’s like packing your lunch and throwing away whatever you had

- Pushing you out the way to do whatever chore or task you’re doing

- Makes your favorite foods when is his turn to cook dinner

- Like he’s completely unhinged

- To stir the pot let’s say this is lesson 16 and they show up to all that

- Can you imagine??

- Their filled with even more regret than before!! They never got a chance to establish a deep bond with you

- Not really. Not like you have with everyone else

- And now you’re gone??

- They barely even care about the Lilith reveal like😭

- They do everything they can to win your favor but it’s like the end of the program now who’s to say it was enough??

- Beel is elated while the othered are broken that you and belphie become close

- Poor belphie is exhausted w all this drama so to make amends even more he goes out of his way to heal the gaps between you and the others so it’s all good now

- Not Lucifer tho

- He’s still moping

- Can’t hurt his pride by saying how glad he is that your back

- Can’t tell you how he watched his world fall apart when he saw the light leave your eyes

- DEFINITELY can’t tell you how he prayed to Lilith that he would protect you from now on and that he’s sorry

- All of RAD throws a huge goodbye party for you

- Lots of tears

- During the movie night of like that last few days

- As a little treat for you, you still sleep w Lucifer lmao

- Like you sneak out to go to the bathroom and none of the brother see you for the rest of the night?? Yeah we knew already

- He WILL cry jsyk

- He’s pressing kisses all over you and holding you like you’ll disappear

- Mumbling praises into your skin

- The most he’s ever said “I love you” in his entire existence

- Looking at you with teary eyes

- Can’t keep up his prideful façade

- He’s okay with being vulnerable to you

- Again hit him w the “my morning star”

- And he will go crazy

- Tears up when you leave

- Like he can’t even front like he’s not about to go throw up

- They’re all anxious that they won’t ever see you again because you still hate them

- I promise you on everything in all three realms

- They almost do NOT let you leave when you go

- “Thank you for my time here, I love all of you.”

- They are inconsolable

313 notes · View notes