#he sees the full face not all the details. he would not notice little changes. so he figures no one else will either.

[unhealthycannibalobsessions]

“I think my clothes have shrunk,” Will complains as he fidgets in his chair, looking uncomfortable. He’s just sat down for breakfast, fresh from his daily morning surf, showered and dressed in clean clothes. His curls are still damp, small droplets of water dotting his shoulders. When he looks up at Hannibal, his eyes are a startling blue in his tanned face, eyelashes almost blonde from constant exposure to the sun. “I can barely fit into any of them,” he adds, before stuffing his mouth full of the Truffled Eggs Benedict with Crispy Prosciutto that Hannibal had prepared for him.

He glances at Will’s shirt— it’s bursting at the seams, the fabric stretched thin across the sinews of his chest and shoulders, struggling to contain them. The poor little buttons are strained to breaking point. Hannibal has to sit down to conceal the sudden erection tenting his trousers. His blood is rushing southward so fast, he feels a bit faint.

“Hmm, perhaps I used the wrong settings in the washing machine,” Hannibal replies, aiming for nonchalance. He did no such thing. Will has been filling out with much-needed fat and muscle since they settled in this house a few months ago. In the beginning, he was just regaining the body mass he’d lost as a result of his injuries and the long boat journey here. But, now that Will is free from chronic stress, has a solid sleep schedule, regular meals, and daily sexual release— all of the above facilitated by Hannibal— his body has continued to expand and has now surpassed his previous frame.

When Hannibal bought his new wardrobe, he had accounted for Will’s weight recovery, and had ensured all the items were a size larger. However, he had failed to divine that Will would find a new outlet and passion in surfing or how much muscle he would pack as a result of practicing every morning.

While Will retains a lean and lithe figure, his chest and shoulders are now visibly broader, with defined arms and a sculpted torso that tapers down to an irresistible narrow waist. His thighs are toned from hours spent crouching and balancing on his surfing board. Perched upon those powerful legs, is an ass that would make the gods weep with desire— firm, luscious and with just the right amount of jiggle. It drives Hannibal to distraction. He’s spent many a happy evening with his faced buried in those cheeks.

Hannibal has, of course, been monitoring and recording every change in Will’s physique in painstaking detail, with his drawings (as well as his hands and tongue). But seeing the evidence of the excellent care he takes of Will displayed before him, in the way that those clothes cling and stretch around his body… Hannibal has to bite his lip hard to repress the rumble of satisfaction that wants to escape his chest.

Will is going to need an entire new wardrobe. Hannibal doesn't mind. He would buy him a hundred new wardrobes. He’d dress him up in the best finery money can buy, only to rip it off him afterward.

Will continues devouring with gusto the food Hannibal has cooked for him. Surfing always opens his appetite. Hannibal watches enraptured as he chews and swallows each bite, listening to the small noises of delight Will makes as the flavors Hannibal crafted for him unfold in his mouth. He considers himself responsible for every single ounce of weight Will has put on. The mere thought makes him impossibly harder. Each time Will’s Adam’s apple moves as he swallows around a mouthful, Hannibal leaks into his underwear. He visualises the part of his body that food will go on to nourish. After a while, Will looks up and notices Hannibal staring at him, biting his lip instead of consuming his own food.

“What’s going on?” he asks, his mouth full.

“Nothing,” Hannibal replies and makes a feeble attempt at eating, but with all the blood in his body busy supporting his erection, his stomach is not receptive of nourishment. He goes back to staring at those struggling buttons.

Is Will naive enough to believe his clothes have shrunk? It’s hard to tell. Will, who’s so perceptive in most areas, can be blissfully unaware in others—like his own beguiling beauty, for instance. Has he not noticed how much stronger and healthier he has become? Or is he just teasing Hannibal? Will knows he holds power over Hannibal and often uses it to his advantage, but Hannibal’s not sure if he realizes the full extent of it. Perhaps it’s better that he doesn't.

Hannibal has only just noticed that he can see his nipples poking through the tight fabric. Will has such pretty nipples—sweet, pink nubs, that never fail to perk up under his tongue…

“What’s up with you?” Will asks again, startling Hannibal out of his nipple reverie. There’s suspicion in his tone. Hannibal shakes his head and goes back to his plate. Will’s body shifts in his chair, and suddenly there’s a bare foot creeping up Hannibal’s thigh. He gasps in surprise and drops his fork. The clever foot follows his adductor muscle until it lands on his groin, where it comes into contact with the damning evidence.

“I knew it! You're hard,” Will says, triumph in his voice. “I could tell by the shine in your eyes, you always get that glazed look when you’re hard,” he gloats. He then rubs his foot up and down Hannibal’s length, getting a good feel for the stiff flesh under his sole. His toes catch on the tip of Hannibal's prick, the ball of his foot massaging the shaft. Hannibal can’t help the whimper that escapes him, nor the way his hips lift on their own accord to press against the arch of that food. “Jesus, you are hard as a rock,” he adds, sounding a little breathless himself. “What’s gotten into you?”

Hannibal, too lost enjoying the tortuous sensations, doesn't reply. “Tell me,” Will orders, stopping the stimulation and lifting his foot. “Is it watching me eat? Is that it? Does that turn you on now?” He observes Hannibal through narrowed eyes. “Oh… I know. It’s the shrunken shirt, isn’t it?” Hannibal has the grace to blush.

He grabs Will’s foot and presses it back against his hard prick. “It’s both,” he growls through clenched teeth, “and that shirt hasn’t shrunk, Will. You’ve put on weight.” Hannibal grinds against the foot, shameless. The friction is making all his synapses fire at the same time, but it’s not enough— he needs more.

Will's eyes widen in sudden understanding. “I see… What turns you on is that I’ve put on weight because of the food you’ve been feeding me,” and then he snorts with laughter. “Hannibal, you such a pervert.”

Perhaps he is, Hannibal couldn't care less at this precise moment.

“Christ, you're so worked up already. Look at you… already dripping all over yourself, aren’t you?” and he increases the pressure and tempo of his foot. Will derives a great deal of pleasure in seeing Hannibal hard and desperate for him. “Do you wanna fuck me? I bet you’re gagging for it”

“Yes…,” what else can he say? Hannibal looks at Will with pleading eyes, “Yes, let me fuck you, please.”

🍖Continue reading over at Ao3 👣

✨Please feel free to share and reblog!

#mytag #hannigram #hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #mads mikkelsen #will graham #hugh dancy #nbc hannibal #murder husbands #hannibal fanfiction

[wetbloodworm]

wavemaker9: "i think his face changes every time i draw him" he's a changeling so it IS possible badum tsh

LMAO FUCK WAIT, THAT'S IT i could get away with that. he tends not to shapeshift too much and when it does it's fairly subtle. maybe he just shifts his jawline around and stuff. i could swing that. the excuse is right there. ez your brain is so big and full of wrinkles

#mik tag #that is not. the actual reason. but imagine #extra funny if i give him my weirdness with registering facial features #he sees the full face not all the details. he would not notice little changes. so he figures no one else will either. #not that noticing is a bad thing he clearly does not hide that he's a changeling. #he just tries to be recognizable for all the non-changelings who are less used to people just swapping around all the time #(that's one reason why his brother has one static mask he defaults to and why one mom has a few static traits between masks) #(the other mom. doesn't care lmao) #what if i gave all of my changelings that kind of. broad registering of faces but not being able to tell things apart #because they figure things can change. they pick up on other cues to tell people apart. body language and speech patterns. #these tags are getting out of hand i might continue later in a full post lmao #sorry for taking your joke and running with it ez but also ty this is fun

[fmhobeus]

fwb!suguru who knew he wanted to fuck when he first laid eyes on you. then wanted to take you out to endless dinners to chat his ears off when he first spoke to you.

fwb!suguru who grew to like you without fucking you, almost forgot it was what he wanted you for – a life together or a night together?

fwb!suguru whose dick got painfully hard when you taunted him, rolled your eyes at him or outwitted him. he lived for your sassiness.

fwb!suguru who happened to fuck you on a random night unexpectedly and it changed the trajectory of his life.

fwb!suguru who stayed after every dick appointment. cuddled with you on the bed, watched movies or your favourite TV show, ordered take out and held you in his arms till you both inevitably fell asleep.

fwb!suguru who couldve sworn he wasn't in love with you. he would still fuck other people (and then come back to you, poor baby was thinking of you the whole time)

fwb!suguru whose grown accustomed to your presence. he calls you when he isn't feeling okay, you call him when something bothers you. he's grown used to you telling him all about work, how you got your nails done, how you saw a cute cat near your apartment. trivial details, which coming from anyone else he would hang up, but he looks forward to them with you.

fwb!suguru who eventually stops fucking other people and is just your man, without you knowing.

fwb!suguru who is determined to mark you up in placed people will notice. your neck, your thighs, your collarbones.

fwb!suguru who believes in giving you his all. all of his long girthy dick that pumps you full it should be criminal, his long slim fingers that have made you orgasm so often and hit that deep spot with unbeat ease, his long tounge... oh god his tounge. he thinks maybe even his long life ahead is yours too, all yours. his little kids too maybe? he doesn't like to think too much about that.

fwb!suguru who has to have your pussy checked with his tounge daily. he has to lap up your insides no matter any circumstances. his voice purrs across your body when he talks you through your orgasm.

"mhmm yeah cum all over my face beautiful, I know you want to"

fwb!suguru who gets sick at the thought of you sitting so pretty for another man when you tell him you're going on a date. suguru who looks so disturbed at the thought of another man even looking at his pretty girl who isn't really his.

fwb!suguru who takes you to corporate events just so he can call you his girlfriend, even if it's just pretend. when you question him it's always "easier explanation than a friend i fuck on the regular, isn't it?"

fwb!suguru who knows how you like your coffee in the morning. he knows what you like for breakfast, your comfort food, your hobbies, your favourite movies, your least favourite movies, your icks, your past. he knows you like he knows himself. he thinks of you when he passes your favourite cafe, he texts you when he sees something in the colour you like.

fwb!suguru who is sure he hasn't felt this way before, who is so vulnerable with you that it scares the shit out of him.

fwb!suguru who is afraid, angered at everything about you. he's angry at how you lull him into a sense of security, how you hold him, how sweet your voice sounds when you call him by his name, how you take care of him, how you listen to him. he hates how your pussy clenches his dick for dear life, milking it dry and how you never let a drop of his cum go to waste, licking it up like a little slut. he's fearful too. about losing you. about where loving you the way he does leads. loving you? wait. he loves you? fuck. fuck. fuck. this hasn't been according to plan at all.

#somebody lied to her #aniya writes ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა #jjk #suguru ♡ #jjk smut #jjk x reader #geto suguru #jjk geto #geto x reader #geto smut #jjk suguru #suguru geto smut #jjk ^ ~

[porcalinecunt]

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋. ♡

🎀 ˚₊· ͟��͞͞➳❥ thinking about aot men who’d be the softest doms ever . . .

·˚ ◌༘͙[featuring] ! ˊ 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐈𝐍, 𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇, 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍, 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐓

cw — fem!reader. size kink (erwin) body worship (jean, levi) praise kink. lots of breedings. edging, fingering, some nipple play (levi) sub!armin (implied)

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ author’s note! : hi hi! it’s been a while since i made an actual post here. apologies! life got busy, but i finally have time to make fics again :D there might be some changes on this account but we’ll see! anyways, please enjoy and feedback is welcomed! 🤍

➸ jean kirstien.

he’s already so much of a sweetheart, so it’s not shock he’s carry that to the bedroom. he’s needy but slow, as it’d be way too easy to accidentally hurt you. the size difference aroused yet made him a bit nervous. (the first time was quite a hassle!) nonetheless, jean gave you the fuckin’ princess treatment every time the both of you would get intimate. kissing every inch of your body while caressing your hips with his large hands. he’d gently lay your down, not pulling away from the sloppy kiss the two of you are engaging in. did i mention that this man is huge? he adores watching you struggle to take him completely, squirming and whining as he stretches your smaller cunny inch by inch.

“j-jean..’s too big!” you whined, watching through glassy eyes as your boyfriend hovered over you, sinking himself deeper and deeper into your weeping cunt. your legs twitch in a failing attempt to keep them open, something jean would immediately notice. “does it hurt babe?” he asked in a groan, hazel eyes carving holes into yours through hooded lids. you could only shake your head as he took it as a confirmation to bottom himself out. your eyes rolled to your brain and your jaw went slack as jean watched in awe. “look at you..taking it so well f’me.” he sighed, slowly beginning to pump you full as ecstasy filled your senses. the only thing you could hear were jean’s sweet praises, telling you how much of a good little girl you were for taking him so well and patiently. your head grew hot as the feeling of his dick stuffing you full began to overwhelm you. “good little girl, always taking my dick so well..fuck you’re so cute!”

➸ erwin smith.

oh my god. erwin. what more can i say, he’s a gentleman in bed! anything you ask for, he will do without hesitation. want him to knock you up? done. want some head? he’s already on his knees. sad after a rough day? he’ll stuff your cunny full until your filled n happy. anything your heart desires, he’ll give it to you with all the adoration he has for you. ♡ even better when you realize how big he is. how he can easily pick you up and fuck you silly in mid air if he really wanted to. even better, how massive his fucking dick is, enough to make your mouth water just by the thought of it.

“e-erwin!” you whined, watching your husband’s face as he stared down at you. a gaze full of softness and love, a stark contrast to how he was treating you. a smile to his wife while fucking her slutty pussy like an attention deprived whore. “how did i get so lucky? what did i do to deserve such a beautiful girl as my wife..” he breathily chuckled, fucking into you at a slightly faster pace. erwin started down at you, from your flustered smile to your breasts and stuffed cunt, every last detail on you brought him closer to the edge. “good girl..my good girl. you deserve every inch i give you..”

➸ levi ackerman.

contrary to popular belief, levi isn’t the mean and rough dom many make him out to be (still adore that levi tho!) but rather, a gentle and passionate type of dom. he’s not the most romantic, but oh boy, when he is..buckle up. this man will treat you like your his final meal on death row, savoring every inch of flesh you have on your body. kissing you from your lips to your clit, muttering sweet nothings while pumping his slender fingers inside your cunny. he sings his praises when he’s balls deep in you, calling you names like ‘princess’ and ‘darling’, anything that fills your stomach with butterflies if its not his cock. your legs are already trembling from his voice alone, not helping the fact his groans are fuckin’ perfection.

“settle down princess, i barely did a thing.” levi carassed your breast with one hand while finger fucking you with the other. all he needed was two fingers and his wrist as he flicked it with a quickened pace that almost forced your thighs shut from shock and pleasure. while your mouth was closed, tiny whines still manage to spill through as your husband’s thumb moved it’s way to your clit, adding to the overstimulation. with his other hand, he tugged and played with your nipple while letting go just to take a gentle squeeze to your whole breast. you’re thighs shook as your orgasms reaches closer and you grabbed the coller of levi’s loose shirt for support. “‘s becoming too much princess? you wanna cum all over my fingers?” he spoke in a gentle and low tone, making you nod eagerly to his question. “How cute, shit—if only I could do this everyday.”

➸ armin arlot.

armin armin armeeen! <3 you already know what kind of man he is. his partner’s pleasure is a priority he takes very seriously, from letting you choose the position to making sure you orgasm first before he spills his seed inside you. he gives you princess treatment even after sex, not letting up until you knock out from exhaustion. he fucks you like your a goddess, hitting every sensitive spot in your while singing his praises. he wants, no, needs to see you cum around his cock as it’ll make the night worth it. he won’t lie, seeing you whimpering and shamelessly getting off to him servicing you never fails to push him over the edge and nearly fuck a baby in you. this man is a keeper!

“t-this good enough for you..?” armin sighed, watching you take in his dick inch by inch until you’ve completely sat down on it. “y-yeah..fuck you’re huge..!” you whined out, grabbed his thighs and trying your best to move while the overwhelming pleasure had you shaking. the blonde placed his hands on the plush of your hips, firmly holding it as he lifted you up from his cock before slamming you back down on it. a yelp tore from your throat, nails digging into the flesh of his thigh and your eyes screwed shut from the sharp pleasure. “right there! armin fuck..!” you mewl as he guided your hips, slamming his cock in and out of you at the pace you desired the most. his blue eyes peered through his bangs as he grew redder and redder from the expression you wore so beautifully. mouth parted open in an ‘o’ shape with slightly arched eyebrows, pink washed over your face with red sitting right on your cheeks. fuck, he was insatiable. “yes..just like that love, just like you wanted. always taking it like the good girl you are. ♡”

© porcalinecunt 💌 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

#𓆩♱𓆪 — porcelaincunt ! #aot imagines #aot x you #aot x y/n #aot x reader #aot smut #aot fanfiction #aot x female reader #jean kirschtien #aot jean #jean kirstein #jean x reader #jean x y/n #jean x you #armin aot #armin arlert #armin x reader #armin smut #armin x y/n #armin x you #erwin smith #aot erwin #erwin x reader #erwin smut #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x y/n smut #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman #x fem reader

[plutoswritingplanet]

Hand That Feeds (Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female!Reader)

a/n: as promised, here's the full chapter. as a person who's only played skyrim and oblivion, writing for fallout is like throwing a hot dog into an empty corridor (i will not elaborate)

Warnings: Suggestive Themes, Attempted Kidnapping, Medical Malpractice, Cooper is a mean old man with a boner. Takes place before the events of the TV series.

Summary: The Ghoul takes up a bounty that has been gathering dust for quite some time. You, bored out of your mind, decide getting kidnapped might be the perfect way to entertain yourself. Both of you bite off more than you can chew. Cross-Posted on AO3

PT. 2

Copper knows this job will be different, before he even decides to take it up. 

Scribbled with flaky charcoal, your face looks at him from the notice board every time he delivers a bounty. For months now, a humble title of "The Healer" hangs without change, between criminals, raiders, and people who were in the wrong place, at the wrong time. 

Cooper hasn't considered going for you, it was never his first choice. The bounty on your head was moderately low, in comparison to your notice board neighbors.  He had other priorities, bigger than a smeared over pretty face, for half his usual reward.

Until one day, as he stomped his way through the dusty floor, his eyes caught onto your wanted poster yet again. 

Well, to be frank, his eyes strayed towards your portrait almost every time he crossed the threshold, but he would never admit it to anyone, let alone himself. Like a constant companion, overlooking all his accomplishments since he decided to stick around the place, your empty gaze followed every transaction, every head delivered onto the table. Some semblance of a routine, he supposed, looking over the board. 

 There, under the regular information, freshly painted numbers stared back at him. A new bounty, significantly bigger than any reward on the board. The red paint was still dripping down the yellowed paper, the addition must've been made quite recently. 

A hefty price. One, that would supply him with enough chems to last for half a year at least. Tempting. Especially now, that he's down to only a couple of vials, his coughing fits becoming longer and closer between. So tempting, in fact, that he tears your wanted poster from the board, finally getting a closer look, a deliberate one. 

Booker gives him a raised eyebrow, all the commentary needed, encapsulated in this simple gesture, and Cooper shoots him a nasty look. There aren't many requirements regarding the job, except one, annoying detail. 

You have to be alive and in good condition. 

Now, alive Cooper could do. Alive is easy. Good condition, however, opened a whole shitbag of problems, which he would be a fool to overlook. Still, the prospect of such money couldn't be ignored. And, he'd be damned to admit it, but he was curious. Who were you? Why haven't you been caught for such a long time? What caused this sudden raise in bounty?

- Did you piss someone off that bad, little lady? - he asks the yellowed paper, and gets no answer, as expected. 

***

The bar is filled with patrons, all tripping over themselves to loose as many caps on cheap alcohol and chems from under the table. It's not as rowdy, as one would expect. This settlement must be one of the few more civilized ones, for the Wasteland's standards at least. Farmers, mechanics, shopkeepers, they all clam together, smelling of smoke, sweat, and alcohol. 

You're here too, hunched over your drink with a sour expression. Your shoulders are slumped, covered by a piece of cloth, that used to be a shawl, but currently looks more like a rag used to wipe down countertops. Despite that, Cooper sees in the way your body is poised, taunt and graceful, that you're neither a naive Vault Dweller, nor a scruffy raider. A skinny scarf is tied around your neck in a fashion, that reminds Cooper of the old westerns he used to star in. 

The sudden influx of memories is neither wanted, nor useful, and he clicks his teeth in annoyance at his own betraying mind.

The Healer, he thinks to himself, making his way through the crowds, until he reaches the side of the bar, one seat from you. Not a glance is spared in his direction. The townsfolk must be used to seeing Ghouls run around the place. Still, when he orders a glass of moonshine, out of the corner of his eye, he can see you peaking at him with curiosity. There's a intelligent glint in your eye, and Cooper feels a shiver of curiosity climbing up his back. He scolds himself for being too old imediately after. 

By all that's holy, you look tired. And not the kind of tired, that sticks to a person living in the Wastelands, no. It's the exhaustion of a shitty day, dragging your eyelids down to flutter against creeping up sleep. The alcohol can't be helping your state, however, it will most definitely help Cooper. He almost feels sorry for you, but if your dumb enough to leave yourself in the open like that, while being hunted, there's nothing more he can do but take advantage. 

Cooper turns his face ever so slightly towards you, looking over your expression for any signs of recognition. He sees none, more than that, there is no emotion at all, not even a blink at his fucked up face. Raising his hand, he touches the rim of his hat in a wordless greeting. 

That finally wrenches some resemblance of a reaction out of you, and with a blink, you tip your glass towards him, before downing its contents. Your cheeks are flushed, lips wet with remnants of moonshine and there's a lock of hair falling out of place, and damn it, Cooper suddenly feels so old.

Ordering drinks while in your current state wasn't the most intelligent thing you could've done. The harsh taste of alcohol burned your throat in a way that was less than pleasant, and for a moment you consider turning to some good old chems for help with... Well everything really. 

It started with Old Lady Sal. 

You've replaced her hip a while back with some scrap metal and a fuckload of reused body parts. Now, every other day she demands you check it out, make sure it's in working order. Which it always is. This isn't your first replaced hip, you know what you're doing.

Then, you had to sit through the insanely uncomfortable marriage offer from Old Lady Sal's grandson, who is not only dumb as a bag of rocks, but also fourteen. 

And to top it all off, suddenly everyone needs you to solve their particular pains of the day. There must be an epidemic of aching heads sweeping through the town, because as soon, as you flee from Old Lady Sal's home, you're being hounded by everyone and their mother, looking to you for help. You were in town for two hours, and your herbs reserve went down to one fucking leaf. 

The Ghoul keeps looking at you from under his hat, and at this point it's gotten from uncomfortable, to straight up creepy. You were not about to pretend this stranger's interest in your particular person didn't unnerve you. Although, thanks to your mother's efforts, and later your own, the town practically worshipped the ground you walked on, the same could not be said about the rest of the Wasteland. 

You had enemies. You had people, who would love to get their hands on you. You were also deeply aware of the bounty placed on your person. Last you checked, it was quite small, but Ghouls don't have it easy out there, and if there's anyone looking like a bounty hunter in this fine establishment, it's the shady guy giving you a shameless once-over. 

So, you place a couple of caps on the counter, and gather yourself best you can. 

Perhaps drinking on an empty stomach was not the best idea, because as soon as you slide off the barstool, your head does a flip. Your balance completely off, you trip over your own feet, already accepting the floor, as your soon-to-be companion. 

That's when something strangely warm wraps itself around your waist, hoisting you up against the counter. The Ghoul smells just about as pleasant as one would expect, but moonshine is a powerful sedative, and instinctually, you lean into the warm embrace. Eyelids flutter, as you look up into the sunken eyes of your savior, and you can see his throat move, as he swallows thickly. 

- Careful now, sweetheart - the voice is low and reminds you of wind whistling through leaves - Gotta keep you in good condition.

Now, if you were completely sober, or at least less drunk, those words would fire an orchestra of alarm bells in your head. Instead, you smile, teeth on full display, as you reach up, to undo a tattered scarf from around your neck. 

- Mmm - you sigh, throwing the piece of cloth across the Ghoul's shoulders - My hero. 

Then, you grab onto his arm, still holding a tight grip around your waist, and lift it up by the sleeve of his coat. Despite your drunken disposition, you duck under the limb gracefully, and shoot the Ghoul a nasty, fully aware smirk. Realization flickers across his face, but before he can move to catch you, a series of body-wrecking coughs shakes his entire frame. 

You hesitate just for a second. The instinct to help is ingrained into your very being, passed down like a mantle from your angel of a mother. But then, self-preservation kicks in, and as the strager reaches into the pocket of his coat, to find his inhaler, you're already out the door, throwing yourself into a mad dash towards your cabin.

You were drunk, not stupid. 

***

The sun has barely had time to rise, when you're rudely awoken by the sound of a fist, pounding desperately on your front door. Hard enough to make the hinges squeak and shake. 

It tears you from your already light sleep, and you scramble to your feet, hastily pulling a shirt over your head, as you make your way towards the entrance. Hand on your pistol, you look out through the small space between two planks, which make up your door. 

It's not hard to understand what is happening. You remember one of the men standing outside your door from the nearby town. Benny or something like that, you were never good at remembering names. Hanging on his arm was another, barely breathing man, who was currently bleeding out right onto your porch. Pete. This one you recognize as a farmer and a hunter. You've treated multiple bites and scratches on him. So did your mother. 

Cursing under your breath, you undid all the makeshift locks with record speed, throwing the door open.

- I'm sorry to bother your so early in the morning Healer - you wince at the title, already making a beeline for the table in your kitchen - Pete and I were just...

Both men follow you closely behind, Pete's boots making a disgusting, sloshing noise. 

- Put him here, face up - you command, throwing a couple of papers to the floor.

- ...Coming back from a night hunt, and this fucking Ghoul was asking around town about you...

- Cut his shirt - another command, thrown over your shoulder, as you begin to rummage through a cabinet filled with chemicals and various herbs, barely registering the words. 

- ...And when we started asking questions back at him, he just shot Peter, right then and there...

You pluck a couple of twisted, dried herbs into your trusty, stone mortar, spitting into it, to gather some moisture. Throwing a semi-clean rag at the man, your voice cuts through his rambling.

- Put pressure on it.

There is no exit wound, and you almost sigh with annoyance at the prospect of fishing out a bullet. It had to be done, however, putting your sleep depriation and a building headache aside, you scoop out some of the herbal paste with your fingers, before pushing past the man.

- Hold his legs down - you mutter, taking a blink-and-you-miss-it moment to check Pete's temperature.

- ...Thankfully, he didn't kill Pete on the spot, so I brought him here straight away.

Pete flinches on the table, as you apply the paste to the wound. That's about as big of a reaction he's capable of, given the amount of blood he just spilled onto your porch. Another thing to clean up, after you take care of the table. What a way to start a fucking day. You can see his eyes follow your movements, barely conscious, but still alive. Sweat beads and gathers at his brow, and you reach out with a clean rag, to dab it off his skin.

Then, as if coming out of a stupor, your eyebrows scrunch together. The story of this faithful encounter finally registering in your brain. 

- A man was asking about me? - you ask, despite already knowing the answer. 

- Well, kinda. A Ghoul. 

You knew which Ghoul, it was not difficult to piece together. 

- And he didn't kill Pete, just injured him - you can feel another headache brewing just behind your eyes, as the sheer stupidity of the man in front of you finally comes to the surface.

They led him to you. 

Three, steady knocks to your door, smug and confident, interrupt the conversation, and deep down you can see the future of every person present in this cabin. As if you've developed some magical powers. 

Stilling your suddenly trembing hands, you settle the mortar back on the table. Thenyou instruct the man to keep pressure once more. Covering yourself with a robe you got as payment for stitching up a sliced finger, you make your way to the door. Fabric flows around your feet, shuffling like the wings of a moth. 

Your eyes flicker to the side, where, placed against a wall, stands a small end table. Under it, you've hidden a rather large kitchen knife, and for a second you debate, whether going for it now would be the best course of action. Call it dumb optimism, but deep down, you pray this is some big misunderstanding, and you'll be allowed to go back to your patient, preferably sooner than later. 

There's no need to bother with a gun, no time too. Pete is bleeding out faster than a stuck pig, and you were not one to leave your customers unsatisfied. Or, in this particular line of work, dead. 

The door opens with a slam. There's a small indent in the wooden wall, where the door handle has hit the surface.  The cabin is slowly entering the state of ruin, although, some places are more taken care of than others. Still, it has a roof, a semi intact entrance and even a window with actual glass in it. Quite the luxury in the Wastelands. 

Cooper didn't know what to expect, not really. Seeing you for the first time gave him a mixture of varying feelings, as well as a rather uncomfortable throbbing in the nether regions. Who could blame him, really? Your wanted poster gave you no favors, and although he was able to recognize you almost immediately, he still felt slightly short of breath.

He scolds himself for getting distracted by his thoughts, and as your eyes lock down on him, he lifts the barrel of his gun, touching the rim of his hat. Your eyes shift like little sparkling gems onto the weapon, before your jaw locks.

- Salutations Ma'am - his voice is rough from lack of use, the southern twang even more prominent, than usual. - I believe our introduction was cut short.

Yellowed teeth flash in a mirthless smirk, and then his expression tightens.

Cooper is used to people reacting, let's say, negatively towards him. Fear is the most common, and he can't blame the masses, he really can't. Disgust, as well, happens quite often. But as he looks over your feverish gaze, he can't really see either one of the emotions. 

No, what you give him is an annoyed roll of your eyes, and he's surprised to say, it bothers him more than he'd be comfortable admitting. He's a goddamned bounty hunter, a ruthless one at that, and a fucking Ghoul. Fuck you mean, you're annoyed by his presence?

- Look - you're already turning away from him, shooting a look towards your kitchen, where he can see a leg twitch in a spasm on top of your table - I ain't got time for whatever this is - your hands wave around in Cooper's general direction. - You'll have to wait your turn.

- Ah, well, I'm not the patient kind.

A squeak of surprise leaves you, as the Ghoul pushes past your body, entering your house gun first, murder clear in his deep set eyes. His steps take him through your living room, dangerously close to your kitchen. You know exactly, what's going to happen, and your arms shoot out on instinct. His body is unnaturally warm, even through layers of clothing, as you wrap yourself around his waist, tugging him back with all your might.

 He looks down on you, more bothered by the sudden contact, than the fact you're trying to stop him. It gives you a small leverage, and you push him back a couple of steps, settling yourself between the entrance to the kitchen, and the bounty hunter, raising your hands and getting ready to fight. 

- I don't have time for this kinda bullshit. Git. - Cooper snarls at you, his gun-free hand coming up to grab at your hair.

Before you have time to react, five fingers twist hard into your roots, and you stifle a scream, as the Ghoul pushes you off of him. On instinct, your hands come up to tug against his wrist, nails digging into the leathery skin. He lets you go with a hiss, and you use that second, to throw yourself towards the end-table. 

Your fingers find the handle with a practiced ease. Then, your body twists like a radioactive viper, and all Cooper sees is a flash of metal. The blade is rusty and chipped, but it could still do some damage. Especially now, that it's pressed against Cooper's jugular, the dull, cold presence halting all his movements. Your eyebrows raise in small recognition at the thin fabric tied around his neck. The scarf. Your mouth goes dry.

- Everything okay back there? - Benny asks from the kitchen, you can hear his approaching footsteps.

- All's well, kee pressure on the wound - your voice is tight with nerves, but the man obeys. 

Cooper watches your face carefully, his gun tucked neatly into the meat of your stomach, ready to fire, should the situation escalate. You can feel it, pressed right into the hollow space under your spleen, a good place to be shot, if you could even say that. You're dealing with a professional, apparently. 

- We seem to have a bit of a conundrum on our hands, little lady - Cooper drawls, voice bordering on a whisper, his eyes follow the way your tongue darts out to lick your chapped lips. 

- I have a patient, he needs help - you explain in an even tone, breathing shallow - After that, I'll deal with you.

Despite being at a loosing position, you refuse to back down, your eyes glued to the Ghoul in front of you. You're bracing yourself for the imminent pain, should he decide shooting you would be easier, but it never comes. Instead, the barrel of the gun presses further into your flesh, before lightly retracting. The cold metal is dragged up, across the expanse of your stomach. You bite the inside of your cheek, and surpress a shiver, when it travels between the swell of your breast, and settles into the dip of your collarbones. 

You swallow thickly, Cooper's eyes catching the movements of your trachea like a hungry vulture. The tip of the gun touches the underside of your chin, pushing your head to one side, then the other, as if the bounty hunter is taking inventory in a butcher's shop. Once he's had his fill, he lifts the gun completely, raising his hands as a peace offering.

- Git - you whisper back at him, and a flash of something rushes through his mangled expression. 

You take a step back, chest rising in falling rapidly, blade still in front of you, just in case. Then another step, and the bounty hunter dusts off his coat, before sitting down on a stool in your cluttered living room. You don't like the way he looks at you, eyes shining from under his hat, as he occupies your space like it belongs to him. Long legs apread in front of him, and you try very hard not to sneak a peak between them. Finally, you cross the entrance to the kitchen, and the knife is tucked under the leather belt of your pants. 

A sigh, a roll of shoulders, and you're off.

Cooper watches with curiosity, as you immediately start to work on the poor bastard stuck on your table. Your back is taunt, hands bloodied but steady, as you lean down to take the metal bullet out of the wound. The herbal paste you've provided earlier has dried up, and is currently working wonders for the bleeding, while you reach inside with not-so-sterile pliers. 

- Hold him down - he hears you say, as the legs on the table start to twitch again. 

Finally, a metallic sound of the bullet hitting a dish is heard, and you stand up, making your way towards the cabinet filled with chems. There is a grace to your movements Cooper wasn't expecting. Reminds him of dancers, ballet ones. 

Back in the day, his ex-wife would drag him to all those ballet shows, ones that made him feel stupid and uncultured. He swallows around the memory, willing it to die down, as you shoot him a cautious look over your shoulders. 

He wiggles his gun at you lightly, a reminder, that all this is happening because of his good humor. You scoff. 

Pete starts screaming as soon, as you begin to dress the wound properly. Chemical smell fills the air, and although Cooper lacks the nose to feel it, his eyes water all the same. You seem to be unbothered, years of doing this exact job must've hardened your senses. Finally, it's done. There's nothing more you can do for the man, and you wipe your hand on your forehead, leaving a large smear of red.

- He'll be fine - you mutter towards the other man in the kitchen - He needs rest, and a loads of it too. 

A couple of small bottles and dried herbs land onto a checkered cloth, and you tie it closed, like a small care package. 

- Dress his wounds twice a day - you press the package into the other man's hands while he helps his partner off the table - Good luck. 

Cooper glares at the men, as they stagger out the front door. They don't seem to pay him any mind. Well, the shot one definitely doesn't, he can barely walk on his own. His friend is too preoccupied with keeping him on his arm, to even acknowledge that this whole situation was orchestrated by Cooper himself. Or perhaps, he's to stupid to connect the dots. It's hard to tell these days. 

The door closes with a click, and Cooper stands up from his stool, sauntering over to the kitchen. 

You're currently trying to wash blood off of your hands, which are stained crimson almost up to your elbows. It goes about as well as expected, and as you dry your arms with a rag, there's still a pinkish stain to your skin. 

The table is a mess, blood and herbs seeping into the wooden planks which make up the surface. Cooper leans against the doorframe, as he watches you splash some chemicals onto the wood. It bubbles up in a disgusting mixture of red, green and yellow. You let it sizzle for a moment, before taking that same bowl of water you've been using to clean up, and dumping it all onto the table. The mixture flows down to the floor, the residing surface looking much cleaner. 

- Now, as much as I'd love to sit around and play house with you, honey - Cooper starts, and has to clear his throat, when you look up at him wordlessly, blood on your face and fire in your eyes - I have a bounty to collect.

Sighing, you push your hair back from your forehead, exhaustion, which is synonymous with living in the Wastelands seeping off of you like a tidal wave. 

- Do you have a name? - you ask, reaching for a leather bag sitting on one of the chairs. 

- I do - he says, and you roll your eyes at the deliberate lack of information his answer has given you. 

You mutter something that sounds scarily close to "asshole", and begin to chuck a couple of vials into the bag, then some herbs, then a water canteen. It's like you're ready to move out at any time, and a sneaking suspicion arises in Cooper's mind. This isn't the first time you're in this situation, if your calm demeanor is anything to go by. Suspicious, highly so, and as you turn around to face him, Cooper raises his hand ever so slightly. 

Your eyes fall onto the bundle of rope in his grip, eyebrow raising in annoyance. 

- You serious? 

- As a funeral, sweetheart - he sways the bundle lighty, his other hand pointing the gun at your abdoment - Now, are you going to be good, and come over here? Or should I come over there and make it unpleasant for us both?

- You're already making it unpleasant - you mutter, but cross the kitchen towards him, raising your hands, palms up. 

- Wait. 

Confusion hits you, when the Ghoul reaches into his pocket, producing a small piece of torn cloth. Your entire body goes still, as he grabs onto your chin, cold metal of his gun digging into your cheek, the barrel settling into the juncture between your neck and your shoulder. Then, despite your best efforts at freeing yourself from his grip, he brings the cloth to his lips, wetting the fabric with his tongue. 

The bloody smear on your forehead is wiped down rather roughly, and you twist in place like an impatient toddler, when Cooper leans his head back, to look at his handywork. You shiver with disgust, at the feeling of his drying saliva on your skin, and as soon, as he lets you go, you begin to rub at your forehead with the sleeve of your robe. 

- Good condition - he rasps, and if looks could kill, he'd be six feet under.

He gives you a nasty smirk, settling his gun down for just a moment, and grabbing your wrists together, so he can tie them up. Which is all the time you need to make a decision, and kick out your knee, nailing him right in the crotch. He doubles over, cursing loudly, hands shooting out to grab you, but all he catches is your tattered robe, which you slide out of easily. 

Fater than he would've anticipated, you grab at your bag, and bolt to the back of the kitchen, where he watches you jump over the table and all but slide out of the house through an open window. It's like a choreographed dance, the way you move out of his grasp. When he reaches the window himself, there's no sight of you, other than the rustling of tree branches somewhere in the woods behind your cabin. 

- Fucking women. - Cooper whistles.

He can't deny the shiver of excitement running down his back, as he secures the hat over his eyes.  If that's how you want to play, he would oblidge. It's been far too long since he could actually enjoy a more challenging bounty. Cooper slowly walks out of your cabin, looking over all the little trinkets you've gathered inside. Then, almost lazily, he lifts the robe you've left him to his nose. He feels nothing, of course, but he has quite a vivid imagination. Vivid enough to supply him with a memory of a scent from his past life. Lavender, he'd bet you smell like lavender. 

Your tracks are deep and visible across the ground, and so, the hunt begins. 

#my writing #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x you #fallout smut #fallout x reader #fallout tv series #cooper howard smut #the ghoul smut #i walt on his goggins till we fallout

[happyhauntt]

a grey day — spencer reid.

writing masterlist | askbox

─── summary: spencer meets the newest member of the department.

─── pairing: spencer reid x autistic!medical examiner!reader.

─── warnings: fluff, reader is autistic & a mom, spencer's iq gets slashed to sixty when he talks to pretty girls and it's my favourite thing. no use of y/n. reader is performing an autopsy so mentions of blood but nothing too graphic.

─── word count: 1.3k.

     YOU KNOW IT'S A GREY DAY before you even manage to open your eyes.

     And really, you’re expecting it  ━  this whole week has been filled with pale pink and lime green with solid, unwavering turquoise blobs in the middle, because you started your new job on Monday and the apprehension, the excited, the nausea, they've all been stirring up inside you for days now.

     Waking up to a grey day doesn't hit you as hard as it usually would.

     Still, you feel sluggish when you drag yourself out of bed ten full minutes after your alarm has gone off. The shower is a no-go this morning  ━  if you’re honest with yourself, the shower is a no-go most mornings, when your skin feels soft and sensitive and your brain can't cope with the idea of a barrage of hot water raining down on you  ━  so you slap on some deodorant and spray some dry shampoo in your hair, tugging it up into a rough ponytail.

     You take your time with your makeup, though; strawberry lipgloss and lots of concealer, a heaping of eyeliner and your favourite gold hoop earrings are exactly what you need to feel better. When you step out into the hallway wearing your comfiest black jeans and a jumper that's probably smart enough to pass the dress code, hearing your daughter giggling in the kitchen, the grey day lightens a little.

     It gets even better when your sister-in-law presses a travel mug of iced coffee into your hands.

     "Jackie, I fucking adore you," you say around a mouthful of delicious, soul-quenching caffeinated goodness. You’d half-expected Jackie to have something planned. Four years of living together means that Jackie tends to know about your off days before you do.

     The other woman suppresses a smile, coupled with a sharp look. "There's a three-year-old right there!"

     You snort, waving your hand nonchalantly. As if you don't have this conversation every single day. "Nellie knows not to repeat what I say." You turn to your daughter, your heart swelling three sizes as the little girl at the kitchen table looks up from her drawing. "Nell, baby, what am I always telling you?"

     "Don't go home with strangers."

     "Well, yeah, but I meant the other thing."

     The little girl brightens, revealing a missing front tooth. "If Aunt Jackie won't say it, then I shouldn't say it."

      You giggle, scurrying over to drop a kiss on your daughter's forehead. "Exactly right, my little love."

     When you turn back toward the kitchen counter, your sister-in-law's face is painted with an affronted look, her mouth half-open. "I can say bad words!"

      You wrinkle your nose. "I'll believe that when I see it."

     By the time you leave the house, sliding into your car with a second cup of iced coffee in hand, the day has lightened to a pale blue. You hope it will stay that way.

     "YOU LOOK SO TIRED, DUDE."

     Well, alright, he'll admit it wasn't the first thing he was expecting to hear when he entered the coroner's office. It's been a while since he ventured down to the morgue, sure, but Dr. Peterson has never talked to him like that before, and he's fairly certain not that much has changed in the three-or-so weeks it's been.

     And Spencer's observant. He prides himself on being able to notice things, tiny details other people seem to miss, things that are so obvious to him that he can't comprehend how normal people can't see them.

     So if anyone asks, he'll never admit that it took a full twelve seconds before he realised that the girl in the white lab coat, elbow-deep in an open chest cavity, is definitely not Dr. Peterson.

     "Uh..."

     It's the most intelligent response he can muster in the moment.

     "It's okay," you add, hardly bothering to look up from the corpse. "I'm tired too. And you're not the worst-looking guy in the room." You jerk your head at the dead guy on the table. "Although I'd say that's a pretty low bar, all things considered."

     "Where's Dr. Peterson?"

     "He retired. Or got a promotion, I think? Not totally sure." You shrug, raising an eyebrow at him. "I thought I'd met most of the department already, but I don't recognise you.” You tell him your name, squinting at him through your plastic glasses.”I’m the new... coroner, medical examiner, pathologist, dancing monkey? They didn't totally specify the position when they offered it, which I think says more about me than anything else."

     Spencer blinks. He's not totally sure he's ever met anyone who could talk nearly as fast as him before. "Dr. Spencer Reid, Behavioral Analysis Unit. Nice to meet you."

     "Oh, cool!" The liver in your hands gives a wet squelch as you drop it into a metal dish. "I'm under the BAU! I answer to your Section Chief, um, Agent Strauss? She's a little harsh, huh? I'd, uh, shake your hand, but..." You hold both hands up, mimicking a surrender, showing off the blue medical gloves slick with blood.

     An inkling of a smile creeps onto Spencer's face. "I don't shake hands."

     "That's fair," you say with a shrug. "Can I help you, Dr. Reid, or did you get lost looking for the cafeteria?"

     “No, actually.” He remembers the files he was supposed to show you and reaches into his satchel. The intensity of your gaze is like lasers on his skin and he can’t help but fumble, almost sending a stack of documents scattering across the floor.

     When he looks back up at you, cheeks flushed rosy, your stare hasn’t wavered even slightly. Amusement lingers in your eyes.

     He clears his throat and holds out the files as if they are a peace offering. He doesn’t quite understand whether a battle has been fought, but he definitely feels like he lost one. “Hotch— uh, Agent Hotchner sent the Howard County ME’s report on the Richardson case. He wanted you to look it over and sign off before they file it for the District Attorney.”

     You nod at him. The corner of your mouth quirks a little at his stuttering. You’re not sure you’ve ever been so immediately endeared to somebody before, but there he is, blinking at you like a deer caught in headlights. It’s so adorable.

     “Sure, I can do that,” you say. “Just pop it on the desk over there and I’ll get on with it when I’m done here. Can’t get any bodily fluids on the paperwork, y’know? That’d be a nightmare.”

     The volume of your laugh startles him, and he jerks slightly. The sound of it is loud and warm and it should really freak him out, considering you’re wrist-deep in a cadaver and cackling like a maniac, but it doesn’t. It’s actually kind of sweet.

     “If that’s all, Dr, Reid, I’d like to finish rooting through this guy’s insides so I can sew him back up.” Your words are an obvious dismissal, but he doesn’t feel offended, not with the kind smile still adorning your features.

     He nods and backs away. His feet feel a little numb. “Sure thing. I’ll, uh, catch you later. Have fun!”

     “I’m sure I will.”

     You sound like you’re about to laugh again. Have fun, really? He knows he’s fairly inept when it comes to women, but have fun? He scurries out of the morgue and back into the land of the living, and as Spencer boards the elevator all he can think is that he’s so glad Derek wasn’t there to witness that.

     He’s certain he’d never live it down.

     Meanwhile you resume your autopsy with an odd, fuzzy feeling in your chest. You start to hum beneath your breath, a song that must have played on the radio while you were driving to work.

     Your grey day feels a little pink at the edges.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #* chapter update.

[anemptypuddingcup]

Tricking you.

Trafalgar Law x Female Reader.

April Fools’ Smut Fic.

I never gave detail on how I depict Trafalgar but I see him with tanned skin and with vitiligo from the lead disease he had. (I’m not that far but I know he had that disease. I hope I’m right on this- I head-canon that he had permanent skin changes from it- hence the vitiligo).

Tbh- I also headcanon that when Law switches people’s souls, that person gains the body’s common habits.

Contains: GUYS- IT’S SOMETHING DIFFERENT- Misuse of devil fruit in the very beginning. Reader and Law soul swapped. Reader is in Law’s body. Law is in Reader’s body (They obviously still have their original voices). Law and Reader experiening each others body habits. (Like how Reader loves sucking Law off and Law enjoys filling Reader up.) Law is still the dom (sorta-) even if he’s in your body. Reader’s doing all the fucking. Oral. (Reader receiving in Law’s body.) Leg Glider to Missionary. Ik it gets confusing at some points but beat with me alright? It’s something different. I must I’ve been in a mood or sum bc GODDAMN-

“Room.”

“Shambles.”

You groan out lowly and open your eyes, your eyesight extremely different than it was before. You tried to roll over onto your side but you feel something restricting your movement- something tight around your both your wrists and ankles.

You groan out irritably but the sound of your voice suddenly causes you to freeze.

Your voice wasn’t yours.

And your body wasn’t yours.

Peering down at your body with wide eyes, you notice a male physique with tanned skin and vitiligo alongside significant tattoos that were vividly familiar in your eyes.

“Finally you’re awake, I thought I was gonna be alone tonight…” Your head shoots up at the sound of your voice fading into the bedroom. You look over in the direction you hear your voice and you eyes widens as you see your body walking towards you. “Wh-What?” You say, a bit shocked to see your naked body standing before your eyes without looking into a mirror.

“Aww, still a little sleepy?” She asked you, tilting her head to you while you sat there in genuine confusion and shock. “How in hell…” You asked yourself quietly, staring into your own eyes while she walks over to the bed. Her hand cups you face, feeling along your facial features and staring into…someone else’s eyes while you stared back into your own.

“I swapped our bodies, wasn’t that obvious baby girl? It’s me, Law.” He snickered, slowly climbing onto the bed and softly placing his body onto yours. “Traffy!? So- Fuck, you goddamn fool.” You groaned out before chuckling, throwing your head back in relief as you finally understood what was going on. Law giggles to himself before full on laughing, happy that his little trick had gotten you all shaken up.

“Funny April fools prank isn’t it? I’ve never done it with you so of course it startled you.” Law continued chuckling, his hand combing through your hair while you gave him a little pout in response. “I thought I was kidnapped and formed into something else, don’t scare me like that…” You pouted to him, your eyes trailing down your body you were in as you admired Law’s physique which happened to be yours.

Law unties your wrists and ankles and you look down at your hands which were now larger than Law’s himself. You look down at Law who smiles up at you before pushing you down onto the pillows.

“Well, I wanted to try somethin’ different. I’m sure you’re fine with it too since you’ve been wondering what it would be like in my body~” Law says, his hands sliding up and feeling along his body he was in while he lets out a shaky little gasp.

You watched as he groped his breasts and mewled out at the sensation of his fingertips against the soft mounds before he bit his lip seductively. His hips softly grinds his bare pussy against your bulge within your briefs, a heavy gasp leaving your lip as you unconsciously begin to grind your hips up against him. He could already feel you growing hard within your briefs which makes him reach his hand out and grab the hem of your briefs.

He slowly pulls them off and you gasp out shakily as you watched your cock pop up and out into the air. “I know you wanna try something different anyway, so let’s just enjoy it while it lasts, okay?~” Law whispers to you, his body slowly lying down onto his tummy while he stared down at your cock. You nodded softly to him and bit your lip, a little nervous yet excited to try something different with Law.

Law looks up into your eyes and chuckles mischievously, his hand reaching out to your length and grabbing your shaft a bit tightly. The sudden touch makes you moan out before you shuddered against him, your handing moving up to your mouth out of shyness and slight nervousness.

“Don’t be shy ________-Ya. For now, I own your body and you own mine. I want you to do whatever comes out on impulse. Pull on my hair, grab my hips…do whatever you want to do.” He says to you, trying to give you a bit more confidence on being in his body. You sigh out and nodded to him, staring down into his eyes while you watched him press his lips to your tip.

You mewl out as you watched him lick a stripe up your shaft, a groan leaving him as wraps his lips around your length before bobbing his head. You let out little moans and groans of ecstasy as you watched him suck your cock, his hands reaching up and grabbing your hips while you pressed your hand to his head.

He gags a bit and a few tears begin running down his face as he continued to try and take your cock deep down his throat. You hiss out and throw your head back before groaning out shakily, your eyes already rolling up as you enjoyed his mouth taking in your cock. He begins bobbing his head up and down a bit more, a few moans occasionally leaving him as he sucked your cock so diligently.

“Ah~ Oh fuck~ T-Traffy~” You gasp out, your fingers combing through his longer and pretty strands as your cock began to twitch against his tongue. He hums out and smiles to you as he felt your cock twitching in his mouth, his hands fondling and playing with your balls while he slowly removed his lips to speak with a little pop.

“You’re gonna cum aren’t you?~ Cmon then~ Paint my tongue with your jizz~” He hisses out to you, his tongue flicking and sliding along your sensitive tip. You mewl out as begin bucking your hips a bit, your voice growing loud while you felt yourself getting hot and bothered.

“I-I’m going to~ P-Please keep sucking my cock like that Traffy~” You whined to him, your begging making him giggle a bit. “I didn’t think I’d picture myself saying that…” He laughed, his hand beginning to stroke your shaft while he wrapped his lips back around your length. You whine and gasped out to him shakily as you felt your cock yearning to burst, your balls tightening within one of Law’s hands

“Cumming!- C-Cumming!~ Fuck! M’cumming!~” You grit you teeth and your eyes rolled up to the back of your skull as you grip Law’s strands tightly, yanking him farther onto your shaft and making him gag suddenly from taking to much of your length dow his throat. His eyes widens and waters as you cum down his throat so quickly yet easily, the salty and slightly bitter taste enveloping his tongue and throat.

His groans melted into moans as he drinks and gulps down your seed, your flavor overpowering his tongue while his body shudders from the flavor. He groans out shakily as his brows furled tightly, his eyes rolling up as his orgasm hits him hard like a brick. His pussy gushes while his nails clawed at your hips, his throat tightening and still swallowing around your length while you whined out in sweetened pleasure.

“God~ Fuck, I came so much~” You whined out, your body still trembling while you slowly pulled Law’s mouth from your length. He gasps out and inhales deeply before coughing just a bit, his eyes looking up into yours before he smiles up at you. You could see just a little bit of seed spilling past his lips and you chuckled a bit.

“Sorry Traffy…” You apologized to him, your hand combing through his strand while you rubbed his head. He mewls out and sticks out his tongue to you, showing that he had swallowed everything to you which makes you smile. “Ooh~ Good boy~ You swallowed up all of my cum deep down your throat~” You mewled to him, patting your thighs and motioning for him to get up into your lap.

He obeys and crawls onto your lap, his cunt soaking and drenched with his own cum and slick as he sat there on your bare thigh. “Is this how your body always feels when I’m cumming down your throat? I enjoyed that way too much than I was supposed to…” Law asked you, peppering a smooch to your lips before he looked deep into your eyes.

You blushed and nodded in response to his question, your eyes looking away from him out of slight embarrassment. “It always feels so good when you cum down my throat~ I’m guessing you enjoyed it too?” You asked him, a little snicker falling after. “Yeah…I did, I love fucking your throat but you’re too sweet to be that mean huh?” He teased you, his hand playing with the scruff beneath your chin while his other hand traced at your tattoos.

“W-Well…I don’t want my throat being sore in the morning when we switch back.” You huffed, crossing your arms while Law spreads his legs open to you. Law lies back onto the bed and into his side before he wiggles his hips a bit, urging you to come and get a good grab on him and his hips. “Well? Come on! I wanna see how this feel~ I wanna know how your body feels when you’re getting fucked by my cock.” He says, smiling to you while you stared down at him.

You chuckle nervously and gulped before scooting closer to him and getting down onto your knees. Your thumbs spreads his pussy open and a mewl leaves him while he watched you stare down at your own pussy. “I’ve never seen it from this angle…” You whisper to yourself, your fingers toying at his clit while you observed his slit from this different angle. Law shudders and huffs out heavily, his tongue trailing across his lips while he watched you play with his pussy and thighs.

“O-Oi! Eyes up here, quit starin’ and ogling your own pussy and fuck it already!” Law snapped at you before groaning out impatiently, his tone making you giggle at his desperation. “If you wanna know how my pussy feels then I’ll show you~” You drool out onto his slit and rub the natural lubricant out into his pussy before pressing your tip up against his entrance.

He stared down and mewls out softly while he watched you lift one of his legs into you shoulder. Your tip kissed his entrance and you slowly begin to slide into his cunt, a slightly pain groan leaving him as you did. You hiss and moan out shakily, enjoying the feeling of his velvety walls sucking your cock in.

“H-Holy fuck~ Y-Your dick is s-so fuckin’ big~” Law mewls out, his hands gripping the quilt beneath both of your bodies. “Ah~ Y-You mean your dick T-Traffy~ T-That’s how I feel every time you enter me~” You explained, your moans all light as you continued to slowly thrust into him.

Your grip on his leg tightens and you thrusted yourself deep inside of his cunt, a loud moan spilling out of his lips as a groan spilled from yours. “B-Big~ S-So big!~” He groans out to you. You huff out and thrust hard into his cunt making him moan out suddenly and shakily as he felt you bottom out inside of him without warning.

“F-Fuck! Oh fuck!~ S-So deep~” He moans loudly, his body trembling beneath you while he shut his eyes tightly. You begin thrusting into him rather fast, his pussy producing squelching noises and sucking your cock in rather deep. “Fuck~ Your pussy feels so fucking good~ I love how warm and sticky it is inside~” You huff out shakily, a whine spilling out past your lips as your thrusts began to grow sloppy and unrhythmic.

Law couldn’t help but to moan out and melt beneath your body, his hands clawing at the quilt while his face scrunches up with ecstasy. “Ohh fuck~ Your dick is so fuckin’ deep inside of my pussy~ Your cock is grinding against my g-spot so good~ I-I see how y-you feel now!~” Law mewls out, his eyes staring into yours while you huff out heavily to him.

Your body pushes up against his and your knees dig deep into the mattress while the bed begins to rock heavily and frantically from your haphazard thrusts. Law didn’t mind it at all, even if your thrusts were rather uneven and sloppy, he still enjoyed the feeling of your cock sliding in and out of his cunt and kissing his g-spot.

It was a rather different yet sensational feeling.

“I-I didn’t know my pussy felt this good to you~” You mewl out shakily, your arms wrapping around his body while your nails begins to scratch at his back.

“Ah~ O-Of course it does, I-I didn’t expect my cock to do this much damage to your cunt~ Yet here we are…and it feels so fucking good~” Law hums our, wrapping his arms and legs around your body while gasping out to you.

Your hands held on tight to Law’s hips as you thrust into his cunt just a bit faster, a gasp leaving you as you felt your cock twitching within Law’s warmth. His pussy sucked you in deep, pulling you in and not wanting to let go of you. You groaned out as your brows furled, your thrusts growing a bit sloppier as you struggled to stay in sync as if you already were beforehand.

“Fuck~ T-Traffy I-I’m c-close again~” You whimpered to him, biting your bottom lip as your nails clawed at his hips. Law mewls out before pressing his lips against yours, giving you a sloppy yet deep and needy kiss. “Cum baby~ Fill up my fucking pussy~” Law hisses, his arms pulling you closer to him while his pussy tightens and clings around your shaft.

You gasp out and shut your eyes, your breathes deep and heavy as you finally feel yourself ready to release. “Oh god~ Fuck! Fuck Traffy!~” You hold on tight to his body as you trembled against him, your cock releasing your seed deep inside of his pussy. Law moans out rather loud and angelically as his body shudders hard against yours before he squirts and gushes out around your length.

“Ooooh fuck~ Oh fuck~” Law moans out shakily, his hands trembling against your shoulders as he presses his lips against yours once again. You hum out and kissed him lovingly before pulling away, a laugh falling after as you stared into his teary eyes.

“Are you okay Traffy?” You asked him, your hand playing at his soft skin while he lied there breathing heavily. “Y-Yeah…I’m fine. Fuck why did that feel so good…? Y-Your orgasms are so fucking amazing…” He heaved out shakily to you, his arms wrapping around you as he grew indecisive with his decision or rather- fought with your body’s habit of holding on to him.

“I felt good too Traffy…I’m just assuming that you can handle yours better than mine?” You asked, staring at him and rubbing against your skin. “I-I can’t always handle them but fuck your body had to have been pent up or something.” Law sighs out, lying down and cuddling up against you.

You pulled him close and groaned out, your hand reaching out waffling with his. “Um…Traffy?” You called out to him, quirking a brow to him and watching as he turned over his shoulder to look at you. “Hmm? What is it?” He asked, rolling over to face you before cracking a smile. You cleared your throat before groping at one of his breasts, causing him to mewl out suddenly.

“How’re we supposed to change back you idiot?” You asked him, pouting to him. He sighs out before curling up into your embrace. “I’ll tell you in the morning…I’m sleepy baby…” He sighs out sleepily, relaxing against your body. You sighed out before giving him a final goodnight kiss before you slowly lied back and closed your eyes.

☆☆☆.

You groan out as your eyes slowly opening, the sight of your body before you making you smirk a bit before you slowly sit up. You hiss out suddenly as you felt arousal near your crotch and you look down to see your cock perked up and hard. You groan out suddenly and turn over to Law, pressing your hand against his soft shoulder before softly shaking him.

“Traffy…Traffy!”

“Hmm? Mmgh…What?” He calls out to you groggily, his eyes slowly opening to peek at you who was still in his body from the last night.

“I-I’m hard- W-What am I supposed to do?” You asked him, a bit of a worried tone singed deep into your voice. Law slowly sits up before sighing out, his eyes trailing down to your hard cock before he sighs out and crawls down in between your legs.

You stared down at him as your face grew a deep shade of red, a heavy sigh leaving you as you watched him begin to jerk your cock. He peppers a kiss to your tip which makes you gasp out before you cover your mouth, your face scrunching up from the sudden pleasure and increase in body temperature.

“Let’s go at it one more time before I teach you how to switch back~ I wanna feel your dick in my pussy again~”

#APRIL FOOLS GUYS- #stfu I know I’m late🫵🏾👁️👁️ #puddingcupimagines #puddingcupfics #dividers -> cafekitsune #one piece #one piece smut #one piece fluff #op smut #op fluff #one piece x female reader #one piece trafalgar law #op trafalgar law #trafalgar law smut #trafalgar law fluff #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law x reader

[lady-of-endless]

Reactions to their s/o wearing Valentine lingerie as a surprise? (Law, Corazon, and Katakuri pls❣️)

Their reaction to lingerie for Valentine's Day headcanons (Trafalgar D Water Law, Rosiante Donquixote - Corazon, Charlotte Katakuri)

Author's Note: Slightly nsfw! These 3 in a spicy request? Yes, please...Thank you so much for this one, I love it too much! Happy Valentine's Day, btw 💕 Hope you'll like those!

Trafalgar D Water Law

- Your lingerie of choice for him would be dark red, a classic and a reminder of what day it is. He never cared for Valentine's Day before you, it's possible for him to forget about it.

- Let's assume that you want to tease him, to finally get revenge for all the times he teased you mercilessly. You're wearing a loose top and somehow, as you were walking, with him behind you, the top dropped from your shoulder, revealing a red strap. You made it look like an accident but he saw right through you. Law squints his eyes noticing the strap and his stare goes a little lower on your body. As he assumed, he also noticed a red band peeking from the waistband of your trousers.

- Your little game stops when you hear from behind the infamous words: "Room - Shambles". When you blink you're precisely in the middle of his bedroom because of his ability.

- Once you reveal the lingerie fully, you'll hear the longest sigh he ever let out, slowly shaking his head. His eyes will scan each detail of it. Even if he keeps his composure, the dilatation of his pupils betrays him. He puts his hands in his pockets so that you won't see him clenching his fists.

- Law will tell you to stay where you are in the middle of his bedroom as he slowly starts circling you, a growing smirk on his face. You can tell he likes what he sees and that he's putting his wants on hold. Why? Because he wants to get you a nice blush on your cheeks to match the lingerie, he would say. Expect slow and soft touches of his fingers along your back and waist, and then unexpected slaps of the elastic of the lingerie against your skin as he pulls on it and lets it go. He won't stop until you're begging for him to stop messing around. He hopes that moment comes fast because it's hard for him to resist.

- He won't even ask for permission to rip it off. If you're complaining, he'll just shut you up by biting your lip and saying that he'll get you a new one.

Rosiante Donquixote (Corazon)

- Your lingerie of choice for him would be white and lacey or pastel pink with some embroidered little hearts like the ones from his favorite shirt. However, I think that the white lacey lingerie would destroy him.

- You don't want to tease him but you do want it to be a surprise he'll discover. You two are in a heated private moment on a couch. Corazon starts praising, and complimenting you because he couldn't do it during the day because of his disguise and slowly unbutton your shirt. As he kisses your neck with a blush on his face, he opens his eyes and notices the lingerie. He stops in his tracks.

- His flustered expression switches to a slightly serious one. You think that the speed of his changing expressions is because of his skill as a spy but right now, it's because his mind got clouded by obscene ideas. He asks you to stand up and strip so that he can see it fully. "Can you do it for me?"

- You take off everything else, revealing the lingerie while he leans back on the couch, legs slightly spread, eyes fixated on you. He takes in the full image and he feels the need to light up a cigarette and tame a drag to prevent himself from jumping on you.

- Corazon won't need to act as mute anymore because he genuinely became mute at that moment. However, his hungry stare spoke louder than words. He'll gesture you to come closer and sit on his thigh. As you're sitting there, he'll let his fingers softly slide over the details of the garments as he sighs.

- He's not going to rip it off, he appreciates the look too much. And also, he likes playing with those ribbons and bows like you're his present.

Charlotte Katakuri

- Your lingerie of choice for him will be black lingerie with lots of straps. We've seen his aesthetic with that black vest, boots, a lot of belts, and straps. How would it be if you decided to go for it as well? It would be the end of him.

- Once you start to undress and reveal your surprise for him. Katakuri's eyes will grow wider and his breathing will become slightly shallow. He has always admired how soft your features are and to see you in such a bold outfit? He'll pull onto his scarf a little higher on his face to hide his blush and he'll clear his throat because of how unsure of his voice.

- Sure, you look absolutely gorgeous, but what gets him more flustered is the fact that you wanted to wear that, especially for him. That's what gets him weak.

- Because he is so damn tall, he can't see the full set properly. He will just kneel before you, putting his large hands on your hips and pulling your body close to his face, looking up at you with enamored eyes.

(something like this but he's kneeling: https://i.pinimg.com/564x/74/6e/98/746e981b15d3019deea14edcd9dd3df4--forgive-me-romantic-places.jpg )

- He'll start kissing your hips, still looking up at you, hands sliding to your thighs. Please run your fingers through his hair as he does this. There's something about seeing Katakuri, this mountain of a man, a warrior, feeling so comfortable being at someone's mercy. He's bewitched with you and he wants to take his time to show his adoration before letting himself indulge in his desires.

- He'll ask for your permission before ripping it to pieces, grunting. Expect him to even rip a part of it with his teeth, as he gets more impatient.

#one piece #trafalgar d water law #donquixote rosinante #corazon #charlotte katakuri #katakuri #law trafalgar #trafalgar law one piece #corazon one piece #corazon rosinante #rosinante one piece #katakuri one piece #one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #corazon x reader #katakuri x reader #one piece requests #one piece headcanons #one piece hcs #one piece hc

[fuckmyskywalker]

"Benzodiazepines." — Anakin Skywalker.

— CW: 18+, smut! Somnophilia. Stepcest (Anakin calls himself "big brother"). Dubcon/Noncon. Drug use. Mild mentions of rimming/anal, manhandling. Anakin is pretty nasty. | Word Count: 1k (not proofread!)

— List of films! | Taglist.

Standing next to your bed, Anakin smiles. It is a wicked, creepy smile; loaded with a sick pleasure and lust— with something unsettling. Picking up the glass of water you always keep in your nightstand, he pops open the little glass bottle that cost him quite a lot… Only to pour half of it. Twirling the water with his finger he wipes it out in your blanket, placing the glass back on your nightstand and hiding inside your closet.

Patience is key. Anakin learned that a while ago. This is something that has been occupying his mind for a while now, and he isn't sure if he’ll be able to last as much as he meticulously planned. 

He shouldn't feel like this. He shouldn't even have any sort of romantic or sexual attraction towards you— his stepsibling— yet, he finds himself jerking almost every night in the adjacent room with a pair of dirty underwear he stole from your laundry basket; sometimes he'll wrap them around his dick, other days he will sniff them, even lick them… anything.

Unable to stop himself, Anakin’s palms his soft cock, eager to see how the night unravels. It doesn't take you long to return from your nightly shower, wrapped in a short towel and changing right in front of your closet. Anakin knows you keep your next outfit laid over the edge of your bed. In fact— he knows every single little detail about you, from the foods that make your nose scrunch, to the different vibrations of your toy whenever you use it in the middle of the night when you think everyone is asleep.

Anakin never sleeps. Not even when you are asleep. 

He would never waste time that he can spend with you.

So he waits. He waits rubbing his now semi-hard cock, watching you dress, brush your hair and even apply those scented lotions and serums that you adore so much. But he has a different reasoning tonight… he will coat your face with something else. 

He watches you drink every single drop of water, and when it comes to that point— his cock is as hard as it can get, it even hurts. Reaching for the half-full bottle he twirls it in his palm, reading the side effects:

«May cause Anterograde amnesia. Consume responsibly. Don’t consume if you are pregnant, lactating, or are allergic to any of the components.»

You sit on your bed, draping the covers over your body and yawning. Assuming it was a long day, you close your eyes as the door of your closet creeks open slowly. Paying it no mind, you continue relaxing under the warmth of the blankets when you hear a heavy breathing next to you.

Snapping your eyes open, you fail to notice the effort it takes you to even do such an automatic task. “Anakin?” You ask confused. “What are you doing here?” You eye behind him, noticing the closet doors wide open. The realization hits you like a bucket of cold water, freezing every bone and nerve so much you can’t move. “Where you inside my fucking closet?”

He coos at you, placing a hand over your forehead and caressing your skin. His other hand peels the blankets off your body allowing his blue eyes to gobble with your beautiful body. “Shhh… it’s okay. Your big brother will take care of you” His voice isn't soothing at all, but the drowsy state that begins to fog your brain mistakes the creepy tone with a calming one. So soft and tender.

“Anakin…” You whisper, barely conscious by the time he is lifting up your shirt and groping your breasts. His indexes and thumbs pinch your nipples, pulling them gently, admiring your late and slow reactions. Every little arch and jolt is delayed, and his body shivers with excitement.

By the time you finally fall asleep, dragged to a peaceful, forced slumber you won’t be able to remember, Anakin already yanks his sweats down, and fists his cock furiously at the sight of your limp, almost lifeless body. He knows the drugs are quite harsh, especially since he gave you a rather large dose— so maybe he has even more time than he initially thought. 

After toying with you for a while, manhandling you, twisting your body into any position he can imagine, Anakin finally lays you down on your stomach, spreading your ass with his trembling, sweaty hands and kneeling behind you. His tongue circles your puckered hole as his eyes roll to the back of his head, he can’t believe he is finally able to fulfill his most carnal, lustful desires— and even now, when he is spitting on your already dripping pussy, Anakin still can’t believe he is taking what he thinks belongs to him.

You.

“That's it—” He praises you as your body doesn't even react to his thrust. There’s no need to be nice, it is not as if you are going to remember this anyway. “Take this fucking cock— you love your big brother’s cock don’t you?”

The lack of response makes Anakin moan louder, painfully aware of how his mother and your father are sleeping downstairs. His hips snap against yours in an animalistic, primal manner, chasing his own high and relying on the way your cunt keeps squeezing him, coating him with your involuntary slick and enveloping him like a warm velvety glove. 

Your body doesn't even tremble, and every now and then Anakin has to stop to make sure you are still breathing— when he confirms you are still in fact alive, he smirks deviously and pushes your face further down your pillows, slapping your ass playfully in the process.

“Aren’t you a p–pretty thing… taking my cock so good, so well. As if you were— fuck— made for me…”

“Such a little slut for your stepbrother’s dick aren't you… I know—I know…”

The deep slumber he is giving you doesn't seem to come to an end anytime soon, so Anakin knows he has… potentially four to five hours to do as he pleases with you. He fills your pussy up with his cum, making sure to push it back in with his fingers. He tongues and fingers your pretty tight hole until it is stretched and ready for another finger, he sucks and nibbles your tits until your nipples are swollen, and he forces your mouth open with his thumb to slide his cock to the back of your throat…

It's not like you're going to remember any of this anyway.

🌊 Taglist!: @jellydodger | @bimbo-baggins86 | @sythethecarrot | @pockcock | @haydensgirlaela | @zemoslittlemonster | @captain-satan | @lovrsm | @kiheva_ | @inneedsoffanfics | @valsarchives | @leftcollectiongardener | @whatasadlittlelife | @grimkaos | @daniiileee | @dianaaxoxo | @dollfacehgwts | @arzua10 | @mssbridgerton | @mashiromochi

— 🐚 if you wish you be added to my taglist there's a google forms in the beginning of the post! There you can select which days you would like to be tagged in (or choose the option: all the above!). If you send me a DM or an ask I will tag you on every day! | some tags might not work due to your settings, so let me know!

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes! #𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 kinktober 2023! #anakin skywalker x reader smut #Anakin Skywalker smut #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker imagines #anakin star wars #anakin skywalker one shot #stepbrother!anakin skywalker #stepbrother!anakin

[sim0nril3y]

hii, I LOVEE your Simon x civilian! reader series!

I was thinking maybe of Simon finding readers scketchbook and discovering that it s pretty much filled with him? maybe reader has some drawings of a favourite picture of the both of them that s also colored with little hearts?

please and thank you! <3

Thank you thank this is actually so CUTE! I absolutely LOVE the thought of this, like I’ve actually be dreaming about it!

There would be times when Simon would catch you watching him. Like, he would be making a tea, putting the dishes away or sharing out the take-away you’d ordered between a couple plates when he’d feel that eery sense of being watched. Glancing over his shoulder he’d spot you just observing him with great interest, sketchpad in your lap and the moment Simon was aware your eyes would dart away and continue to focus on your pencil against the page.

You had been so happy to show him so much of your art, but that sketchbook in particular was on that you had very clearly kept to yourself. Each time he would pick it up you were overly protective and practically snatched it back, hiding it behind the sofa or throwing it into a drawer. “You hiding something from me?” He quirked a brow and you pressed a soft hand to your chest and replied. “Not at all. Cuppa?” You always seemed to pull his attention away quick enough that he’d drop it.

It was a few nights later that Simon spotted that sketchbook again left vulnerably on your coffee table whilst snoozed, cutely curled up on the sofa beside him, head resting on the arm of the chair whilst your feet rest happily in his lap. His eyes flicked from the football game, back to the book and then back to the game. Fuck it. He leaned forward and snatched it from the table, carefully beginning to flick through the first couple of pages.

It was as he had expected, just a few innocent sketches of flowers, all different types that he certainly couldn’t name. He almost placed the book back down before turning to the next page and feeling his face becoming very warm. Your interests for sketching had changed away from pretty flowers to sketches of him. They were all him doing very mundane and candid things. There was one of him sipping tea from a rather fancy cup, then another of him lifting his heavy dumbbells, another of him running his hands through his hair Simon noticed you’d taken great detail to sketch his hands, another small sketch of him pulling off his shirt and somehow, you’d manage to capture every little scar that littered his body.

As he continued to explore the book Simon noticed that there were some sketches of the two of you. He remembered when you had forced him to take a photo together on a woodland walk, the first picture taken of him for years but he was willing to do it to make you happy. You had taken time sketching that photo, taking in every little detail, even the disdain on his face. He should have given you a smile that day, but instead he just looked pissed whilst you beamed at the camera. His little ray of sunshine. God, he fucking loved you.

“What are you doing?” From beside him your voice was full of surprise before quickly attempting to steal the book from him but he held it up from your reach. “I was looking at your sketches, love.” He mentioned, laughing as you clambered onto his lap attempting to grab it from his greedy hands. “You wanna explain them to me?”

A quiet sigh of embarrassment fell from your lips before you stopped trying to snatch the book from him and just sunk into his body, burying your face in his throat whilst he rubbed your back comfortingly. “I like them.” He whispered into your ear. “I’m not mad, love.” He assured you softly, rubbing small circles into your face. “I just like drawing you, Si.” You whispered into his throat and he chuckled. “You’re so handsome.” He felt heat rising on his cheeks then. “And so strong… I see you doing all these really normal things and… and I just need to put it on paper… I don’t know…”

“My sweet girl…” He chuckled rubbing your back and placing the sketchbook beside him. “Don’t hide things like this from me, love…” He placed a few small kisses to the side of your face. “You don’t think I’m some obsessed weirdo?” You whined softly and he chuckled and shook his head. “I love that you’re obsessed.” He growled, quickly moving you to be flat back on the sofa with him looming above you. “Now, let me show you how much more I’m obsessed with you~”

Masterlist | Ask | 08-09-2023

#simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #ghost x oc #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon riley imagine #simon riley x y/n #simon riley smut #simon riley cod #ghost smut #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost imagine

[boydepartment]

ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚ from the start (trips) - nishimura riki x m! reader

inspired by this cover - angst - masterlist - wc 250-300 -> PT 2

riki absolutely hated your tendency to have new crushes almost weekly. you were his best friend ever and something that kept him from going insane. riki always had busy schedules so being able to hang out w you once in awhile helped balance it.

there was just one thing, you were a hopeless romantic and would crush on anything breathing. and normally this didn’t bother him but now for some reason

it was.

it was REALLY bothering him.

riki didn’t know what was wrong with him, he watched you as you started to wash his face, bumming off his products and clothes.

he liked when you both shared clothes, having the same style helped a lot. he liked shopping with you too, how your eyes would light up a bit seeing something. or when you guys went out to get coffee and you’d know his order.

but you were his friend. yeah…

“oh and then she said this thing that was just so funny it had me cracking up and-“

you were ranting about this girl you met in your class, which was weird because riki noted that you mentioned slightly last week that you leaned towards guys which wasn’t a problem for him at all and-

no never mind riki didn’t want to think about that right now.

“she also said this one thing about my hoodie- well your hoodie and-“

“okay okay i get it.” his tone even took him aback, he felt horrible when he noticed you tensed up and turned to him.

your messy hair falling perfectly on your boyish features, the way your eyes looked, the small details on your face. this has been happening a lot, the awkward silences and him staring at you for a little too long. then it clicked…

oh

oh

“i’m sorry- i- i don’t know where that- i’m sorry continue.” riki coughed and looked down at his phone.

he heard you huff and he looked at you again, “i’m not going to talk if you’re just going to look at your phone. in fact you’ve been off this entire hangout dude… i don’t know what the fuck i did to you- god forbid i share about MY day… you get-“

“okay well maybe you’re fucking annoying talking about all your crushes every week, it’s to the point where i tune you out because it’s so fucking irritating!” riki snapped and he now knew where this anger was coming from- jealousy

he watched as your features shifted from anger, to concern, right back to anger, “well fine since i’m SO annoying i guess i’ll leave then.”

riki felt you shoulder check him before walking out of the bathroom, he stood there for two seconds debating.

he could run after you, and risk ruining everything.

or he could stay here in the bathroom and wait till it all blows over the next day- handling it in a very “dude” way. that’s what jake and him do. just handling it the dude way with a quick apology after an argument then it’s over.

but to riki- you weren’t just a dude, you weren’t just one of his guy friends, you weren’t just his best friend, you were more than that.

and before he knew it, his feet were sprinting to the other side of the house where you were slipping your shoes on. panicking he full on tackled you.

“what the hell is your problem?!” you yelled as you hit the floor

“IM JEALOUS OKAY? IM JEALOUS!” riki yelled, holding onto you like you’d disappear

he had no clue what the hell he was doing. he felt crazy- insane even.

he felt you sit up slightly, rubbing your head from the impact and he looked up at you. still holding tightly onto you.

your brows were contorted and confused, you were dazed obviously because of the fall.

“jealous of what, you psycho?!” a small smile started to curl up on your lips, he felt his stomach churn as you kept speaking, “you’re my best friend, some girl won’t change that-“

“no- no it will-“ riki was panicking again, god what was wrong with him?! usually he’s confident and calm what the hell is going on?!

you looked at him again, “riki genuinely i’m not a shitty friend i’m not going to leave you for her that’s a terrible thing for a friend to-“

“i- i-“ he swallowed hard and he did something he is going to regret, he let go of you, he realized just because you said you liked boys, doesn’t mean you necessarily liked him like that, “yeah- yeah sorry… i just got paranoid i guess.”

“stupid.” you laughed and shoved him playfully, you took off your shoes, “since you’re not going to be an asshole anymore let’s finish that movie.” you stood up and riki watched you walk back further into the house. when you turned the corner he turned so he was on his back, he stared at the ceiling.

memories flashed of you and his hangouts, he felt his heart drop.

i guess he’s always loved you from the start

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[halcyone-of-the-sea]

hello love! can i make a request for gaz x f!reader she a civilian and a florist and he keeps visiting her and they slowly fall for each other and he calls her his sunflower or something cute like that? you can make up the rest, sorry if it’s not super detailed!

Gossamer Silk Smiles

Pairing: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F!Florist!Reader

Synopsis: You loved your job more than anything, and at the end of the day, even with pricked fingers and cramped muscles, you went to bed happy. It had all been going well, insanely well. You were focused; self-assured... Until he showed up. 

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: Insane amount of fluff, this is the definition of a soft fic, beginning of a relationship

A/N: I know this man would treat me right. Also changed the nickname around a bit, but sunflowers are still prominent. Enjoy, Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

When you opened your flower shop, you told yourself there was no going back – no distractions or second options. This was what you loved more than anything and at the end of the day, even with pricked fingers and cramped muscles, you went to bed happy. It had all been going well, insanely well. 

Until he showed up. 

It had been a shitty day, one for the record books, in your opinion. Shipments for Larkspur, Zinnias, and Sunflowers had come to the shop damaged. The boxes had been so beaten up you half-believed the mail carrier had gotten into a personal disagreement with them. All initial humor aside, you were now out of this week's product as well as a good chunk of money – the flowers couldn’t even be considered that anymore, seeing as they were really just broken stems and stray crumpled pedals. Then came the unusual amount of rude customers and the building of minor inconveniences. 

But to your credit, you didn’t let it get to you. 

Well…externally, at least. 

“Have a great rest of your day,” you force out with a strained smile to an older woman who only huffs. She stalks out of the shop with a vase full of Daylilies, Purple Cornflowers, Yarrow, and Taro leaves. “I hope your brother gets well soon–” The glass door shuts with a clatter of the small silver bell attached to the frame. 

Leaning back on your heels, your eyes close; taking down a deep breath, you hope your lungs won't explode in your chest as you hold it there. 

“Fucking hell.” The air flies from you in a weak groan. 

Your fingers tap against the countertop, and a small, humorless, chuckle later you’re walking out to change the window sign to closed instead of open. It was well past your usual shift anyways, but the previous customer had been relentless about the ‘perfect bouquet.’

“Like there’s even such a thing,” your lips twist into an annoyed frown as you speak to yourself in a grumble. “...Should have just denied her service… Didn’t even leave a tip.” 

You really wouldn’t have minded helping her that much if she had just been kinder towards you.

Grabbing the small paper sign held up by a suction-cup hook, you flip it around with little thought, already trying to plan out a way to make up for the weeks worth of ruined product. You don’t even notice the man speeding down the sidewalk until his desperate face is staring right into yours – only separated by a thin piece of glass. 

Yelping, your shoulders tense at the sudden visage. 

The man was around your age, tall, and had a handsome face inlaid with eyes reminiscent of deep amber. Light reflected off the iris in ways you can only describe as the glinting sun does off waves of water; gentle. Nearly soft, really. He was wearing a ball cap with an embroidered British flag on the front and had a panicked look set on his lips. 

Close to the door handle, his long fingers freeze mid-air and you find the prominent muscular build and set of his shoulders staining the back of your eyelids like a movie screen. Whoever this guy was, it didn’t stray from the fact that he was attractive.

You’re not happy about it, but your mind blanks as you stare with wide eyes; heart steady in your breast. 

He blinks at you, square jaw loose, also double-taking from beyond the see-through barrier. His flickering eyes flew quickly over your form just as you had ogled him moments prior. 

Silly, perhaps, and childish at best, but you felt your throat tighten with stilled breath. There was a small chunk of time that you both just gawked at each other – as if Cupid had suddenly stabbed you both with one of his blots; gazes inexplicably locked as blood dripped to the floor from copper arrowheads.

If you were more gullible, you would have called it love at first sight. But you were anything but that. 

Sighing, you rip your eyes away and take a breath. Opening the door with more questions than answers, you were praying that it didn’t get dark before you could help this man with whatever it is that he needed. 

I can see the fucking veins on his forearms. You think as the chilled air hits your face,  recalling the peek you sent to the rolled-up sleeves of this stranger’s blue button-down. 

The bell above you dings as you set the door in the crook of your shoulder, leaning out halfway. Clearing your throat, you ask steadily, “Can I help you, Sir…?” 

He sets his stubbled jaw, vision snapping to the side for a split second that was so fast you almost missed it. 

“Erm…my apologies, Ma’am, for rushing up like that.” He lets off a chuckle, and the flag on his hat is quickly explained away by the prominent accent. “Hope I didn’t worry you.” 

Fighting the uptick of your lips you feel your chest let go of a sliver of tension. He was smiling slightly at you, the khaki pants he wears creasing as his feet set themselves; his brown eyes never leave your face. 

Respectful, you think.

“Not every day you have people trying to barge into a flower shop. Trust me, Sir, I sleep well knowing no one wants to rob me.” Attempting a light joke, the stranger's chest jerks in a silky laugh. The tips of your ears heat, the blood under your skin rushing. 

His laugh was like a blanket during a storm; a cup of hot chocolate during a blizzard. Could you be attracted to a laugh? You seemed to ask yourself. Already your mind was coming up blank at this, all of a sudden, welcome intrusion. 

“Well, I’d imagine that’s a good thing, then?” He teases showing off pearly white teeth.

“Incredibly.” Opening the door wider, you beam. “You’re lucky I was still here. I’d normally be all locked up by now.”

You should be closing – telling this stranger to leave and come back tomorrow – but something inside of you told you to just open the door. It was illogical, unprofessional, and downright strenuous on your already foul mood…but this individual had such an air to him that you wondered who exactly he was. He made your skin pule with goosebumps.

“Thanks,” the man utters as he slips inside, nodding his head to you and fixing the position of his hat with one hand. “Yeah…I’m incredibly sorry about this but I’m runnin’ on a bit of a time crunch, to be honest with you. I’ve been checking every shop in town – you’re the only one with the lights still on…” He looks to you, “I really hope I’m not causing any trouble for you, Ma’am.”

Slipping your fingers into your work apron’s pockets, you let the door shut and tilt your head to the side, gaze softening at the pure candor of his words. 

“Emergency flower orders are always my favorites to work on. It’s no problem, really.” You say your name as an introduction and ask what he would like to purchase as he scratches at the back of his neck with a boyish twist to his lips. 

“Kyle Garrick.” He sticks out his hand and you shake it instantly. Kyle’s hands are warm despite the cold weather outside, and you have to stop yourself from melting into him as you pull back. But already your skin tingles. “Actually, I was wondering if you might be able to help me on that front. What flowers would be the best for an apology?…just not something too flashy, if that’s possible.” 

He trails with an awkward chuff, obviously not used to being in a flower shop before. You wondered if he even had a favorite flower. You hoped he did.

You could really tell a lot about someone based on the types of flora they surrounded themselves with.

“Apology?” You wonder, tilting your head. Quickly falling into work mode, you continue, “I can work with that. Do you have any preferences? Colors?”

“Well, she likes orange, yeah?” He speaks and your heart sputters for a moment. Smile freezing. “I don’t suppose that’ll help very much, but it’s really all I have to go off of. I’m a bit of a hopeless bastard when it comes to flowers.” Kyle lets off a huff of laughter.

She. Of course, he’s already in a relationship. 

Nodding, you swiftly walk past the man, catching the scent of fresh-tilled earth and rainy grass as your shoulders nearly brush. You can’t help but feel a little disappointed. It wasn’t every day you found yourself attracted to someone. But, oh well, life continues on.

“Well,” heading towards the wall baskets, your body feels heavy, but you quickly force it to the side. You really shouldn’t be surprised. “You said orange? I have about seven you can pick from.”

“Affirmiti–erm, yes, Ma’am.”  

“Hm.” You hear him come up behind you, following at a respectful distance. Throwing a glance over your shoulder, you watch as his eyes slide over the various types of flowers, all separated by color, with deep thought. 

A slight furrow was in his dark brow. His dedication was adorable. 

“What’s this one called?” Kyle asks, moving around you to a bushel of orange poppies and accidentally bumping into your side. 

Grunting, you lightly jerk forward until a hand swiftly grabs your shoulder. Eyelashes fluttering, you look up with shock at the embarrassed face slightly leaning over you. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. That’s my bad.” 

“N-no, you’re fine.” God, this was so awkward. Smiling shakily, you feel the press of his hand over your skin, separated only by the thin barrier of your shirt. Kyle squeezes your flesh before letting go. 

He was staring at you, though. Brown eyes set into dark skin with a soft expression like Pygmalion staring at his marble-wrought Galatea. But as quickly as it was there, the look was gone and the man was clearing his throat, snapping his neck back to the basket and shifting his feet.

Even if you couldn’t explicitly see it, you knew he was blushing – just the same as the heat in your capillaries mirrored. Swallowing to get rid of the dryness of your throat, you realize you’ve been gawking before sliding your hands into your pockets and quickly looking away. 

Why won’t my heart stop beating so fast?

“Those are Orange Poppies. Papaver orientale.” Speaking, you reach forward and grab the stem of a single bloom holding it to him as he gazes down at you from your side. “Common in ‘get well soon’ bouquets, if you were curious.” 

Holding it up to him, you watch his fingers delicately pluck it from you like the flower was made of glass. It nearly made you laugh, but you settled on a small smile instead. 

“It’s pretty…” Kyle pauses, and you read it well enough.

“...But not what you were looking for.” Settling on the answer, you giggle when he passes off a sheepish smile and a nod. “I kind of guessed. Here – how about this.” 

He ends up buying a handful of orange Tulips, Myrtle leaf for greenery, and a small gathering of Baby’s-Breath. Behind the counter, you try to stay focused on setting the flora perfectly in the clear vase as your clippers lay beside it. Frowning, you take the long stem of a Tulip and snip the end at an angle, placing it to the far left of the rest with a concentrated set of your eyebrows. 

“So,” Kyle says, breaking the silence, and your fingers twitch as your spell is shattered. Soul stilling, you look up at him as he waits on the other side of the counter with his arms comfortably crossed. He leans back on his heels, feet shoulder-length apart. “Busy day today, then? Other places around here are mostly dark by five.”

Standing straighter, you politely smile before going back to the arrangement, hand reaching for the small white tufts of Baby’s-Breath.

“Mostly, yeah.” You cock your head to the side, “I was supposed to be home two hours ago, but one lady was very adamant about getting the most ‘perfect’ flowers, as she told it.” 

Chuckling humorlessly, you step back and stare at the vase, not aware of the eyes stuck on the tired slump of your shoulders or the slight frown staining the man’s lips. 

“Two hours? Well, that’s a bit excessive.” Kyle remarks, eyelids creasing, “I’d hope she at least left a tip for you?” 

That gets a laugh out of you, lungs jerking for a moment; focus once more brought back to the present at the preposterous words that just left your customer’s mouth. Those brown eyes suck you back in to a point where you wonder if you’d ever be able to look away.

“Now that’s funny, Mr. Garrick.”

He lets the subject drop, but you notice a slight crease in-between in brows – a narrowness to his eyes that wasn't there before. You try not to think too much into it, but Kyle certainly did seem like the man to get upset when people aren’t treated respectfully. The thought warms your heart. 

Or maybe I’m just reading too much into this. 

“Is there anything you’d like me to rearrange, Sir…? Do you want a note to go with it?” Seemingly lost in thought, Kyle comes back to you with a diligent shake of his head.

“It looks perfect, Love. And, please, just Kyle’s alright. You’re makin’ me sound like an old man when you talk like that.” He chuckles, and it’s a rich, velvety sort of thing – twisted with blue satin and wrapped in a gentle breeze. Your stomach twists. 

“Then I suppose that’s it, then. I’ll get you the bill and you can be on your way.” Turning around to calculate the total price, you make a quick comment in passing, not really thinking about it as you tap on your calculator. “I hope your girlfriend and you make up.” 

A stunned silence falls, but you only focus on the numbers, jotting down the total on a sticky note and turning around after re-running the costs a last time. When your eyes lock with him, your feet stall at the dumbfounded look on Kyle’s face and the confusion ingrained in his body language. His head had pulled back slightly, hat tilted.

“What’s that?” He asks. 

“Your…girlfriend?” You say slowly, walking closer and passing him the sticky note, “you said you were getting her apology flowers?” 

The handsome man blinks at you before realization lights in his eyes like fire. Kyle laughs deeply, putting a hand on top of his head and pressing down on his cap.

“Oh, Bloody hell, no.” He takes a deep breath and you feel your lips pressed together in confusion, innocent intrigue taking place in your skull. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart, I should have told you right off. This is for my mum.” 

Blinking in surprise you pause, looking up with wide eyes. 

Sweetheart?...Mum?! Your face heats to an intense level. Oh. 

“O-oh I didn’t…” He’s reaching for his wallet with a large lop-sided smile on his face and understanding eyes, watching you as he flips it open. You settle with a single laugh and say, “sorry, I guess I just assumed.”

But you can’t help the sudden relief that sprouted out of nowhere that leaves your lips pulling back in a mirrored grin. You’d been doing that a lot, as of the last fifteen minutes. 

“It’s no problem,” Kyle admits, “Thing is, I’ve been off on deployment for a while, and I missed my return date party, unfortunately. Just got back about noon today and I decided I was going to surprise her tonight.” The man pulls out a large stack of bills, “Thought she’d like that, yeah? Can’t go wrong with flowers, can you?” 

“You’re in the military?” You ask smoothly but internally swoon at the thought of a son giving his mother flowers out of the kindness of his heart. Whoever she was, you know the woman who raised this man would be overjoyed with the prospect of simply having him home safe and sound before anything else. 

Did not Penelope, wife of Odysseus, care for her son Telemachus more than anything? Above danger and possible death? They protected each other. You supposed it was the same in this situation. 

Being able to be a part of it made your legs weak.

“Something like that, Ma’am.” Kyle’s lips flick into a smirk as he hands you the bills. “Feels like I’m surrounded by children most days, but there’s no place I’d rather be…When I’m not nearly getting my head bloody blown off, that is.”

You huff in amusement, and slight concern, taking the payment and settling it on the counter without checking the numbers; never doubting whether he gave you the right amount or not.  

“Well, it seems like you’ve got it all figured out.” Garrick looks to his feet for a moment, pocketing his wallet, and clears his throat near mutely. He tilts his head back up to you.

“Nearly,” he whispers under his breath, a delicate wrinkle on his forehead as his lips pull in a minute, closed, grin. Sheepishly, you look away from his intense brown gaze before you can make a fool of yourself as giddiness sparks in your racing heart. What was happening to you? You have to ask yourself. Where was all of this blatant scatterbrained activity stemming from? No one had ever made you act like this before. 

As you look away, your eyes unintentionally land on the wall clock across the room, and your thoughts still like water in a puddle. Eyes widening comedically, you feel your lips part. 

“I really need to be closing up.” You say apologetically, looking back to the man who touches one of the Myrtle leaves carefully, running it between his thumb and forefinger. Under you, your feet shift over the floor. “Is this all you’ll be needing?” 

“Pretty sure.” Garrick answers easily, “I won't keep you any longer, eh? I’d hate it if I made you go home by yourself after dark.” 

“That’s very thoughtful, Kyle, thank you.” Pushing the vase over the counter, he takes it up and pauses as if he wants to say something. His mouth opens before closing – looking at his feet for a moment and itching at his neck with his free hand. 

“I…don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Ma’am,” your breath hollows, watching carefully as you listen. “But, uh, I,” Kyle shifts his eyes to your face, standing a bit straighter as the corner of his lip flicks up, “You’re just about the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met – if that’s not overstepping, of course.” 

He laughs stiffly to dispel tension, and the air suddenly gets ten times hotter at the brutally honest, if not mildly stuttered, confession. You can nearly hear the blood rushing to your head like a flood of ocean water – more violent and immediate than a tsunami. In your ribcage, your bones ache at the beating organ and the swell of your lungs. Having to take a deep breath to not forget yourself entirely, your mind rages.

Did he really just say that? He…he called me beautiful. 

When was the last time you had been called that? By such a lovely and kind man nonetheless. Kyle seemed like a confident person, his profession telling you that already, but the way he was acting now he seemed hesitant; like he was appalled by the fact you would take what he was saying the wrong way and come off creepy. 

But that was so blatantly opposite of how you were reacting. 

“I-” You stutter, eyes snapping away and hands coming to hold themselves in front of your abdomen, “well, I think you’re very handsome, yourself, Kyle.” A meek expression spreads your visage as you see the breath in his chest hitch, “and I wouldn’t call that overstepping at all. Not by a long shot.” 

His eyes widen, and a second of intense eye contact later, he smiles and glances away. Garrick sneaks looks as you bite your lip, and finally, he nods firmly before his phone starts to ring in his pocket. 

As if a switch had turned, his hand snaps down and grasps the device, peeling it out of his khakis and checking the contact. Immediately he utters.

“Oh, Shit, this is her. I’ve got to run.” He walks backward a few steps before turning and lightly jogging to the front door. Following with your eyes, you’re somewhat entranced by the man. 

Before he can walk through the door, he stops in his tracks.

“Sorry, again,” Kyle turns back around, and his dark eyebrows crease, “but, uh, what days are you open?” 

The giddy smile that forms on your cheeks leaves your skin hurting.

“All of ‘em except the weekends,” you say, confidence suddenly sprouting in your veins, “but I’m sure if you told me ahead of time that you were stopping by, I’d make an exception.”

“I’d imagine for emergency flowers only?” Kyle teases, a smirk on his face. His eyes promise you, though, that this will not be the last time you see him. 

“Of course.” You reply, raising a brow. “I’m a florist, after all, Garrick. Emergency flowers are my specialty. If you’re ever in need of more, I’ll be here, waiting.”

He laughs, stares for a few seconds longer with a distant sheen, and disappears through the door. You don’t follow when his form fades from the windows entirely. You don’t ask for his number, even if you knew you should have. You don’t look at the amount he gave you as you put it in the register, knowing, even by your intuition, that it is double the amount he was due. 

You’d just tell him all about it when you saw him again.

Until Kyle Garrick showed up you had been focused; as immovable as a mountain, but then as the days drew on, you faltered. Your eyes would linger on the glass as people pass by, heart in your throat and feet tapping as you bound stems. Flowers had taken up so much of your life, but now another was trying to push its way in – slowly infecting you like a parasite in your mind as the days went on. 

And as he kept showing up, month after month, he had taken to calling you Persephone. A goddess of spring and nature; beautiful flowers of all colors and shapes growing on hills and in vibrant meadows. It was perhaps the greatest compliment someone like you could have been given. At first, it had been a nickname until it had become as common as your actual title, and Kyle used it so much even regular customers teased you with it with smirks and side-eyes. You only rolled your optics with a burning under your skin and a small smile.

“Well, look, it’s Persephone…”

“That boy of yours here, Persephone? Hiding in the back room perhaps?”

“Persephone – you have any Peonies this week?”

You didn’t mind it…really, you didn’t. If anything, you thought it was precious. A man comparing you to a goddess that danced in green fields as flowers sprouted at her feet? Yes, that was quite alright.

Quite alright, indeed.

—

The office room was cold, he thought. Nearly a meat locker. 

How in the hell can he stand to work in here, Kyle asked himself. Bloody place is like a damn winter storm just minus the snow. 

He was seated in one of the two chairs in front of the mahogany desk, hands on the armrests and feet tapping the floor. When the Sergeant had gotten the order on his radio to come to Captain Price’s office ASAP, he had expected the man to already be here, but five minutes later he was still sitting in silence. 

That wasn’t to say he was bored, though. He was thinking of you. He could never be bored when he did that. 

It brings a small smile to Garrick’s face as he relives your last interaction, lips unconsciously twitching as his eyes grow distant. 

You’d made him a flower crown, mostly as a joke, but had been left in raging fits of laughter when you’d placed it on his head. 

“Hold still,” you grunt, sitting on the front counter and keeping the weaved headpiece in your grip as it hovers above the man’s scalp, “I want to get it centered on the first go.”

“Y’know,” Kyle chuffs, “I could always do it myself – I do have working hands, Love.” 

“Shush!” Exclaiming, your breath fans his face, leaving him more still than a statue, if only to smell your scent and be content with your body so close to his. Kyle was still working out the best way to ask you out officially, but that didn’t seem to extend to his instinctual actions when it came to you. It was increasingly hard to stop his head from leaning just that tiniest bit forward and connecting his lips to yours. 

The pressure on his head brings him back, and his eyes blink as if they could force all the rogue thoughts from his mind. Kyle clears his throat when you lean back, acutely aware of the longing set of his dark brows as he had stared off at you. 

“Well, then,” The Sergeant clears his throat and smiles at your concentrated face, though he notices the hitch in your chest with a strange sense of pride. “How’s it lookin'? Is just as you imagined, eh?”

Your face scrunches, head tilting. Kyle couldn’t remember a time he’d let someone put a wreath of flowers on his head, woven with Forget-Me-Nots, Silver Dollar Eucalyptus, and Tiger Lillies. The others would make fun of him for this. 

But he found he cared little. If you kept smiling at him like that, he’d let you do anything to him in a heartbeat. 

“Perfect.” You chuckle. “You should have let me do this earlier.”

The shop was closed – it was a weekend, after all, and that was the time for restocking and number crunching. Not really the time for making crowns for a man who was totally smitten with you.  

“You sure that you don’t need these?” Kyle asks, a hand reaching up to his head to touch the flora. “I’d hate to not pay you for them, Love. Can only imagine how expensive they are to order.” 

“Eh,” rolling your eyes, your legs brush the Sergeant’s hips from where they sit around them, and the man has to remember how to breathe properly, “they’re the old product, anyway. I’d have to get rid of them by Monday. Better for such a handsome individual to have a crown of his own, with all the gallantry he practices in his job. It’s the least I could do, hm?”

You’re teasing him, a smirk taking up the frame of Kyle’s vision. He returns the action, hands coming to rest on either side of your hips; leaning forward until his nose with mere inches away. He hears your chest rattle with a slow breath.

“Are you teasin’ me, Persephone?” He asks sneakily, as you begin to giggle. “Insinuating I need a flower crown to be recognized at work? It’ll certainly get me attention, that’s for sure, yeah? Just not the kind I want. Soap’ll have a field day.” 

“He’d just make a few comments, I’m sure.” 

“You’ve never met him. The bloke would never let it go until the day I kicked the bucket.” You’re laughing, one hand coming up to cover your mouth. 

Kyle hates himself at that moment because you’ve never looked so beautiful, and he can’t quite pick up the courage to just lean in. So he watches with a matching look of happiness and an embarrassing, yet adored, flower crown on top of his close-shaven head. He watches with an ache in his chest and a violent beat to his heart as your body heat melts into him; urging him, prompting him. 

But he just smiles and watches a moment longer before taking a step back. 

“Sir,” Garrick asks, settling back down and watching the older man slink behind his desk, “What’s all this about?” 

The door opens with a firm hand. Kyle startles to his feet, tuning and about to go into an instinctual formal greeting before the Captain speaks, beating him to it.

“At ease, Sergeant. Take a seat.”  

Price sighs as he takes a seat, slapping a large file that was previously in his hand to the wood before opening his drawer with a grunt. Gaz watches with narrowed eyes as his superior ignores his question, pulling out a large cigar from a lockbox and slotting it between his lips. A lighter follows soon after, and soon the smell of burning tobacco enters the air. 

“...Captain?” Kyle was starting to get nervous now. Why was he looking at him like that? Blue eyes seem to dig deep into Gaz’s soul, trying to find something that was hidden behind layers and layers of flesh and bone. 

John pulls the stick from his lips and holds it between his fingers, smoke now entering the air and rising to perforate like mist. Feet shifting over the floor, Kyle’s heart skips a beat. 

What in the hell is going on? 

That’s when the bearded man speaks. 

“Well, who are they, then?” Price asks, tilting his head forward as his bucket hat sits where it usually does atop his brown hair. The Captain’s eyes are squinted; curious but still laced with that authority that never seemed to leave no matter how many years the two had known each other. 

“Pardon, Sir?” Gaz has to ask, confusion prominent in his expression. “They?”

John raises a thick brow as if the answer was obvious.

“You’re distracted. Been checking your phone like it’s going to explode the last few days. So,” the Captain stares at him heavily, taking another drag before placing the cigar in his ashtray and breathing out a cloud of smoke. He leans forward and places his hands on the table, as Kyle watches, perplexed, “who is it, Sergeant? No use hiding it.”

“I…” Gaz trails before blinking dumbly, lips parting, “oh, hell, was it that obvious?”

“Painfully.” The answer makes the younger man cringe and his skin pulls tight. A pause leaves the room silent, the Sergeant avoiding his Captain’s gaze as he tilts his head away for a moment. He clears his throat. 

“She’s just…” Kyle clears his throat, “someone I met in the city. A florist. Down on Main Ave.”

“A florist, eh?” Grunting, John nods his head to himself. “Asked the bird out, then?” 

“What?” Snapping his head up, Gaz says loudly with stuttering lips, “N-no, Sir. Not yet.” 

The man ahead of him hums, leaning back and flipping his file open, taking a moment to pick up the first page and skim the contents with small eyes. He looks over the top with a blank expression. 

“I’d get on that, Son.” 

—

Today was different, you knew. Something was going to happen. An unexplainable feeling was in the back of your mind, making you somewhat anxious even if you didn’t know exactly why. It was like a sheet had been thrown over your head and someone had just told you to run in circles without hitting a wall; feet tied with a rope. 

The morning had started off normal, as had everything else that followed, but there was an air of expectation wafting in front of you. 

What’s going on? You ask as you wipe down the counter with a wet rag, swiping stray leaves and petals into the garbage bin at your feet. Why am I feeling like I’m expecting something to happen? 

It was Tuesday – nothing astounding ever happens on Tuesdays. 

The front door opens with the ringing of a silver bell, and you say absentmindedly, still caught in your thoughts, “be with you in a moment!” 

A cough startles you, your hand squeezing the rag a bit tighter as your neck twists upwards. 

“Hope I’m not interrupting.” 

“Kyle,” you laugh and take a breath, “I didn’t expect you today…” 

Freezing, your lips part in a silent gasp when you see it. The man you had come to have quite the crush on was standing a few paces from the door, dressed in a nice shirt and dress pants, jacket in the crook of his arm. He holds a single Sunflower in his grasp. 

It wasn’t anything overly impressive, a bit small and dead at the tips, but nonetheless, your heart stuttered at the gift. Staring at it silently, you turn your gaze to Kyle as his feet shift over the floor nervously. A strange look had overtaken his face, but he had a confident air to him that you’d been seeing more and more of the last few visits. 

“What’s this?” You ask carefully, body going hot all over and lungs swelling. 

You’d loved flowers for most of your life; worshiped them like the people of Delphi worshiped their god-chosen Oracle. But never could you recall a moment when you had been given any out of free will. Everyone always assumed you disliked getting them because of your job, but, oh, that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Flowers were like declarations of emotions – they could mean so many things to so many different people. They were the truth laid bare in nature as plainly as it could be, wrought with promises.

Your breath stills, eyelids pulling back delicately; lips parting. 

Kyle speaks softly, raising the flower in his grip.

“I remembered you saying you liked these more than roses – you called them ‘tacky’ if I’m…remembering correctly. The roses, that is.”

He was remembering correctly. But that had been just a passing comment to another customer you had been helping before him. Unimportant. A quick piece of yourself that hadn’t mattered while you were cutting stems and looping twine. 

But he remembered it. 

A giggle falls from you until your hand snaps up, trapping it behind parted fingers and an awe-filled face. 

“I wanted to give it to you,” he continued, walking forward with measured steps, “and ask you a question, if you’d let me.”

“Of course, I would.” It’s breathless, the way you say it, and suddenly you know exactly why you've been so on edge today. 

You’d been waiting for him.

And when he smiles at you, your mind runs to gossamer silk. Such a delicate thing; that smile, comparable to the millions of strands a spider spins in a lifetime. Gorgeous and so very easily missed if you weren’t looking at just the right moment. Gossamer Silk. 

Since when has his grin become so important to you? To where you craved it just as violently as water or food? That look in his amber gaze – the one that left you breathless even when you simply thought about it, that was what you wanted to witness when you woke up in the mornings. You wanted his arms around you. You wanted his lips pressed to yours. You wanted him to be in your kitchen making you dinner as the rain fell outside and the flowers in your back garden grew strong and beautiful. 

You wanted him to be yours.

Kyle stops behind the counter and hands you the flower. You reach for it without complaint instantaneously, wondering momentarily if he had just happened upon one and taken it in a moment of passion. Both of your fingers brush, and the imaginary sparks that fly make you turn slightly shy, head tilting to the side for a moment. 

But a finger hooks under your chin, moving it back as delicately as bird wings, gentle feathers tickling your flesh and nerves. 

A hum resonates in your chest, eyes crinkling as you stare into amber brown with flecks of gold. You could get lost in them if you looked too much. 

But you didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

“Persephone, would you do me the great honor,” the two of you laugh at the wispy and teasing tone, and suddenly you wish the counter between you would disappear into thin air, “of going on a date with me tonight?” 

Tuesdays, perhaps, might have just become the best day of the week, and a small Sunflower with dead tips and fading yellow, your new favorite flower. 

Ironic, how that works. He ended up distracting you more than you could ever imagine.

—

“Don’t you have to be back on base soon, Garrick?” You mutter into a warm chest, street lights shining into the windows of the apartment. 

“Bloody hell, yes…But I’d crawl back to you, if you asked it of me.”

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(sorry that some of these don't work! I have no idea why!)

#kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #gaz cod #gaz garrick #gaz call of duty #kyle garrick #gaz x you #cod x you #cod x reader #cod #cod mw22 #cod 2022 #mw2 #mw2 fanfic #mw2 x reader #mw2 2022 #cod mwii #call of duty mwii #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty mw2 #cod mw fanfiction #mw x reader #mw 22 #x female reader #x fem!reader #cod fanfic #cod gaz #modern warfare #modern warfare ii

[confusedemiposts]

Hi! How are you?? I hope you are okay! Are you still taking requests? If you are, I have a request: What if s/o is Oda Sakunosuke's little sister/brother and s/o REALLY looks like Odasaku(Oda Sakunosuke) Their hair colour, eye colour is the same as his And s/o joins to Agency. What would ADA would do? If you aren't taking requests, you can ignore this! But if you are taking requests and if you do this, it would make my day! Thank you!!

I'm on the floor I loved this! I hope you don't mind I did a small drabble for the whole agency as one at the start but only went into details with characters that knew Oda and added Ango. I didn't know what s/o was till half way so this could be seen as platonic or romantic. I hope you liked it and feel free to tell me if there's anything I'm missing

Familiar Faces 𓇢𓆸

Includes: Fukazawa (platonic), Ranpo, Ango, Dazai x Oda's younger sibling

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort

Notes: Dark Era and season four spoilers!!! Slight Beast! mention but no spoilers (Fukazawa), Probably oc, not proofread, bad grammar, gn reader, reader is unaware that Oda was in the mafia, reader is implied to be over 18

Format: Headcannons/ Drabbles

Summary: Being Oda's younger sibling

The Agency

You suprisingly grew up a very normal life thanks to your older brother. You knew he had a dangerous job and admired him greatly, after all who wouldn't? He took in orphans and visited them daily, bringing you along too. It became your whole life.

The day everything changed left an indescribable ache in your chest, like a piece of your world vanishing, leaving behind a void filled with quiet memories. You had just finished up school that year but your whole life was gone, everything you had was gone and you didn't even know why. It took you a few years till you decided to use your abilities for good and find out what happened.

You ended up joining a detective agency filled with ability users who are all very helpful and kind. It felt so welcoming that you genuinely enjoyed working here..but however, you couldn't help but notice three who looked at you with a certain, almost sad familiarity—as if they knew you. You hadn't met them before but they knew you- or at least some part of you that you didn't know how, they knew him. It's unnerving because how do they know?

Fukazawa Yukichi

He'd recognise you immediately

Well at least who you're related too

He only met Oda once as a teenager

I don't think he met him again so I doubt he knows what happened (tell me if I'm wrong)

Might've heard that he wasn't an active assassin anymore

Definitely on guard when he meet you

Like a relative of a former assassin willing applying to be a detective?

But you were different

He could see it in your eyes that were full of emotions,loss and compassion

Unlike those eyes he saw years ago

You have never killed

It was a bit unsettling though

He needed to know of your intentions

He glanced at you and then back at the application form. He knew he recognised that name, he knew that tinge of red hair and those empty brown eyes that mirrored the features of that boy—an exact replica. To him it made sense to have this interview in the cafe instead of his office.

But the eyes he was looking into were different this time; instead of being void of any emotion it glinted with loss and nervousness. This was an interview, of course you were nervous as the older man continued to keep silent, you felt like he was judging your very soul but in reality he was wondering something else.

Finally he puts the sheets down and clears his throat "What motivated you to apply for this job?". He was curious, you were undoubtedly related to the assassin so why are you applying to be a detective? What were your intentions?

Trying to calm your nerves, you took a deep breath. "I want to do good. I want to help people, like my brother."

He didn't react, but it was evident he was waiting for further explanation, especially regarding the mention of your brother. The silence hung in the air, prompting you to delve into the details.

Hearing your explanation of Oda surprised him

He didn't know any of this (I think)

To know that kid changed into a caring young man and raised his sibling and the orphans

Those eyes that were once lifeless, with no care for his life or anything, had changed

Said he must've been a good man

I think Fukazawa would've tooken Oda in like Ranpo back then :( maybe that's what happened in beast

He gave his his condolences when he found out he died

The waitress in the café came and asked if you two were ordering

Fukazawa ordered something small

You ordered a curry, spicy specifically you said

Fukazawa officially hired you when you passed your entrance exam

He knew you were a good person

I'd like to think later on he might tell you that he met Oda when he was a teen

Edogawa Ranpo

He met Oda twice

First as teens

And last in passing as adults

He tried to stop him :(

When he first met you he instantly knew you were related

He also knew that you were trying to find out how everything happened

I don't think he'd tell you at first for your sake

But as you get closer as friends maybe he would

Somewhat guiding you into figuring it out yourself

Ranpo doesn't act like it but I think he cares

You're having a bad day and about to snap?

You find a sweet you don't remember putting in your pocket

It's very small acts but it comforts you

Alone at your desk, with everyone gone home , and you asked if you could stay over a little to longer to finish something you'd been working on for months– finding out what happened that day.

Coming home from school, you headed to the curry place where you and your older brother always ate, where the orphans were cared for. Instead, you found chaos – police, bystanders, and a devastating revelation from an officer.

Devastated, you waited in grief for your brother, only to discover he was gone too. Everything you knew and loved vanished, leaving you desperate for answers.

You've been building up this personal case for months, you weren't that suprised to find out Oda was a mafiaso and former assassin but god still not knowing why everything happened still gnaws at you, Your world was taken, and the lack of understanding weighs heavily on your chest.

You groan and slump against the desk, the frustration of not knowing amplifying the ache in your chest. You felt like you were getting nowhere.

You felt a tug on your shirt and you lift your head up startled to see Ranpo leaning behind you. He doesn't bother asking why you're still here because he already knows but when you're about to ask him the same question he shushes you with his finger and pulls out a bag of sweets "I left these behind". That's a lie- unless he really wanted these specific sweets that he so happened to leave behind.

He pulls up a chair beside you, the wheels squeaking from only slight movement and plopping himself down.

Silently he offers the bag of sweets, you presume he wants you to open it and you do, going back to your papers after but he offers you the now open bag again, a silent invitation to take one.

You mutter a quiet thank you and take a sweet. It's silent as you both eat the sweets but it's a comfortable silence.

Osamu Dazai

Oh my god

I can't

You knew Dazai back when Oda was alive

When he came to the house or orphans

I'd say you got along

Oda definitely told Dazai to refrain from mentioning the mafia to you

And he kept to that no matter how many times you asked Dazai about how he knew your brother or what his job was

You were probably somewhat friends :(

Didn't see each other for four years until you joined the agency

At first you didn't recognise him

He's wearing less bandages

But he certainly recognised you

An exact image of your brother

I feel like there's two ways this could go

1. He completely ignores, distancing himself from you

2. He's completely all over, absolutely protective of you and making sure your okay at all times

I think it be both

You found that everyone was quite welcoming at the agency and you got along with everyone... although there was one who always avoided you no matter what.

And that was Osamu Dazai.

The moment you stepped into the office his heart dropped as if he seen a ghost, his facade halting only for a moment before he picked up his usual demeanor again. Quietly slipping away before you see him

He'd be stupid to think you wouldn't recognise him but he ignored you anyways. Oh you're coming back from a case? Where did Dazai go? He suddenly vanished (sarcasm). You try to approach him? He is sprinting the other way.

He cannot look at you at all without thinking about Oda, he will not let you close to him again because everything he never wants to lose is always lost and he doesn't want to lose you too.

He is trying to distant himself from you, he doesn't want you to get hurt, he wants you to be safe, he wants you to live the normal life that Oda tried to give you, he wants you- your gaze, your words, your touch-and it scares him, everything worth wanting is lost the moment he obtains it, that is the life of Osamu Dazai.

Though he ignores you directly, he watches over you through other means, making sure in any plans your safety is first, that your teamed up with someone dependable and your getting home safe after work.

But Dazai can't run away from ghost's forever, not when that ghost is at arms length. He always manages to slip away when you try to even speak to him but not this time- you got him cornered, he has no choice but to see his past once again.

I don't know how to write confrontation so just wheater you argued or broke down crying

He will realise he can't keep you away

Perhaps he'll let you close again

But not too close

He knows very well that you see his facade

Being with you he doesn't have to keep his bubbly mask on

You'd both sit silently together by Oda's grave

The silence is not deafening with you, it's calm, a silent mutual understanding between you

He would definitely have nightmares of losing you too

Too the point I don't think he'd leave your side

Constantly hovering around you, partnering up with you everytime so he knows your safe, knocking at your dorm in the dead of night because of a nightmare

It's silly he thinks but still it worries him deep down, after all he is human

Ango Sakaguchi

I know he's not part of the agency

But I think he helped you get into it

I think Ango would've taken care of you:(

Not directly but from afar

He'd feel too guilty

Finding out that you were looking for a job involving where you could get hurt he immediately directed you to the Agency

Partially because of Dazai

He knew he would watch over you no matter what

And you'd have each other :(

#bsd #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs #dazai x reader #ranpo x reader #ango x reader #fukazawa x reader #osamu dazai #edogawa ranpo #ranpo edogawa #dazai osamu #oda sakunosuke #bsd x you #dazai x you #ranpo x you

[miris-secret-files]

It Was A Hard Day || stepdad!Madara Uchiha x stepdaughter!reader

Part 1 : Seize The Opportunity

A/n : First fic of the newly opened dark content side blog ! I'm so excited to see where this is going to go 😂

A/n 2 : Please tell me if I need to change any trigger warrning

Part 2 : And Never Stop 🎴

Warnings : Dark content, stepdad x step daughter, slight voyeurism, oral fem!receiver, squirting, grinding, dirty talk, infidelity, mention of boner, 18+ READERS ONLY and wrap it before you tap it

A fanart from Pinterest that was in my feed ysterday lmao as if they knew : HERE

Masterlist ⚜

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Word count : 1068

Today was a HARD day. Literally everything seemed to go apeshit today

First he had the pleasure of a police decent sigh. Not a lot of people were there at this time so he had to get his hands dirty

Secondly everyone seemed to need a plethora of details on specific subjects while he was taking care of important matters… a few more people died

What ?!? He said he didn’t want to be disturbed

But at the end of the day, the steam was reversed. A smile spread on his face as he read the note his wife let for him, saying she will go on a trip for 2 weeks from this day “That's one less problem”

But it didn’t totally alleviate the tension accumulated throughout the day

So it's like this as he's walking back to his room, thinking about jerking off, his hand hovering his half hard cock in his pants, that he hears a weird noise coming from behind his own bedroom door

He gently pushed the door, closing one eye to see better what was going on inside, thinking it was someone who broke in. And oh brother he wasn’t disappointed in the slightest. But rather mesmerized by the sight before him

You, his precious step daughter, lying there, bare on his bed just before his eyes

They were directly draw onto the luscious curves of your breasts. God damn you’ve changed so much since you were little. He didn’t even see it coming and it hit him like a train at full speed

His hand on his pants squeezed subtly on his member as he kept admiring you

When he heard you moan it was the last straw and he decided to come in. You were so engrossed in your little game that you didn’t even react, acting like you were once again dreaming the scene

He watched your back arch subtly and that’s when he saw “Fuck” he mumbled under his breath as he noticed the shirt in your hand. The shirt that you were rubbing onto your puffy clit. The one that was making you so wet. His shirt

He found himself swept away in an internal turmoil on whether he should leave and go stroke his now hard cock as if nothing, like for the past few weeks, or… make a move and let go of all his inhibitions

Thinking about it, it felt so wrong. He fucking raised you after all. But then you when he heard you moan “Daddy” for him he thought it was so cute - even for him. And it just felt so fucking right

“I’m just helping her out right ?” he thought as he walked closer to you

“Daddy pl-please… I-I can’t c-come… I n-need you” you whined

His face softened as he locked eyes with you. You looked so desperate for his touch. And he loved it “Aw baby” he said as he took a scrunchie and kneeled at the foot of his bed “Open you legs for me. Let me help you out”

You obediently followed his instructions and opened your legs. Revealing you glistening pussy to his hungry eye

“Good girl” he said before diving in. Fuck you tasted as sweet as he thought you would

As he lapped at your cunt, the room filled with obscene noises of suction mingling with your desperate cries

“Mmmh Daddy y-you’re so g-gOOD !” you said as he plucked his tongue inside your hole. Trying to coax as much of your sweet essence as possible, making the knot in your stomach tighten

His nose can brushing against your clit each time he tried to stuck his tongue inside of you “My little girl tastes so good… much better than any woman”

He slowly started to loose control as he felt his cock throb in his pants. So he started to subtly grind it against the edge of the bed

Your moans and cries got louder and louder - luckily you were far from everyone else. Feeling how close your were he couldn’t help but put his fingers inside of you while sucking harshly on your clit. He wanted to see the ecstasy on your face. He wanted you to come on his face. Right. Fucking. Now

And you did, by dint of stimulation and his expert mouth you released. But not in the way he though you would

You filled his mouth with your essence, taking him by surprise. He moaned against your cunt as he swallowed again and again as you kept squirting in his mouth

Hi hips stuttered against the edge of the bed as he almost came, from how hot all this was

Even after you finished cuming he kept working on your folds with his tongue. Seemingly scared of being thirsty again

He pulled out from your cunt with a loud pop and a big smile on his face “You were amazing little girl. That’s so much girl cum for Daddy. I’m so proud of you”

You squirmed at his praises. Gently closing your legs with how sensitive you were

He looked at you a bit more, the stars still brightly shining in his eyes, before going to the bathroom to finish himself. You were so sensitive now and he only wanted to make you feel good. We couldn’t wait either so jerking off seemed better… for now

Then he went back in his bed, were you were still catching your breath. He stripped in his boxer and went under the covers. His long arms circled your little body and pulled your flush against his warm chest

“You did so well for Daddy today. Make sure next time to be as good” he murmured softly against your ear, making you shiver in anticipation

After all, your mom’s trip was supposed to last 2 weeks. So it left plenty of time to explore well… plenty of new things

The next day, you woke up a bit before him, his arms still securely wrapped around your waist as he gently breathed in and out still fastly asleep

Though you could tell something was different, no feel it. Press against you ass. His hard morning wood

And you couldn’t help but think “What if I just grab it and pat it gently ? He wouldn’t be mad now, would he ?”

Well I guess there’s only way to find out

~

~

A/n : I hope you guys liked it ! 🌳🐝 Again my requests are open 🎁🎪

#naruto #naruto imagine #naruto shippuden #naruto shippuden imagine #naruto smut #naruto shippuden smut #madara uchiha #madara uchiha smut #madara uchiha imagine #madara uchiha x reader #madara uchiha x reader smut #stepdad madara uchiha #madara x reader #madara x reader smut #smut #madara smut #dark content #miri's-files #stepdad x stepdaughter #naruto dark content #naruto shippuden dark content

[tired-teacher-blog]

2 part question 🤔

1. How would Aizawa react to his girlfriend having a tattoo he didn't know about?

2. Same with hawks but his case discovering wings tattooed on her back cuz she always wanted to fly?

This is awesome sweet anonie *rubbing hands together*

Please do not read if you're a minor

Hawks :

The moment he unintentionally walked in on you while changing into something a bit more comfortable, was the moment his mind went blank for the very first time in his life. Reason? The majestic wings branded on your delicate skin and reaching the curve of your lower back.

He stood there for a few seconds, mouth agape and eyes almost popping out of their sockets until you noticed his presence.

You were mortified, a shriek leaving your throat as you ran around the room looking for something, anything, to cover your naked body. It hadn't occurred to you -until he finally spoke- that the reason of his stare was actually the tattoo, which in your panic fit, forgot it even existed.

_ "Wings huh? Is that for my benefit?" he soon regained his composure and approached you while voicing his statement.

_ "Don't flatter yourself, this has nothing to do with you." you were still running around aimlessly, cursing under your breath as every article of clothing had miraculously disappeared.

_ "Here, wear this," he wanted you to stop moving around for a minute, this was a grand discovery and he needed to hear more, "then..?"

You huffed awkwardly as you wished to appear calm, but it wasn't working, "it's because, being able to fly is an amazing gift that I don't possess, but I still enjoy the illusion." the words sounded stupid in your ear, but oh well..

_ "I get it, it's freeing," he pondered for a moment before shouting enthusiastically, "I'll fly with you whenever you want! I'll carry you in my arms and show you the world from above!"

He looked like a little kid, too excited while sharing his idea, and you couldn't help the smile spreading across your face as you watched his wings flapping with joy.

That was his gift for you, one you had to later return while being on all fours and giving him a show of your art that curved and twisted with every snap of his hips..

Aizawa :

There you were, sprawled out in his bed, with your flushed skin and heaving chest as you revealed your naked body to him for the very first time.

You were anxious, excited, scared, happy, all at the same time. Being intimate meant a great deal to both of you, trusting each other and sharing your bodies with one another was a big step forward in your relationship.

However, there was one particular thing that you had failed to divulge before taking said step, and it was the tattoo branding your skin in an unnoticeable spot.

You couldn't truly understand why you had to keep it hidden, was it perhaps that you wanted to surprise him when the time comes? Or maybe because you were just too nervous about his reaction that you chose to postpone it and hope for the best when it was time for him to see it.

Whatever the reason might be, it was irrelevant at that moment, since his reaction made up for it.

He was speechless at first, but only for a brief moment, his stunned expression soon turned into an amused one, and his impatient fingers traced the expanse of your inked skin, saying no words as he did, but oh dear was he intrigued.

You watched carefully as he licked his lips and hummed delightfully, eyes going over the beautiful design upon your flesh again and again and again, as if to memorize every little detail it held, and right when you were about to open your mouth and speak, he leaned in to place a gentle kiss on the art you had successfully kept concealed for a long while.

_ "You're full of surprises gorgeous, now let's see what else you're hiding." was what he growled against your skin, right before settling between your legs.

You said nothing afterwards, sinking into the soft bedsheets underneath yourself, and sucking in a sharp breath as the stiffness of the bulge nudging your thigh, was a sign of what awaited you..

#aizawa shota x reader #aizawa shota x y/n #shouta aizawa smut #shouta aizawa fluff #shouta aizawa imagine #shouta aizawa headcanons #hawks smut #hawks imagine #hawks x reader #hawks fluff #hawks headcanons #keigo takami smut #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami fluff #keigo takami x y/n #aizawa shota smut #aizawa shota x you

[chiefdirector]

Missing | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

Tim Bradford was known to be many things. Hardass, stickler for rules, vengeful, angry. Words like these had been tossed around tirelessly to describe him. They would say how unfortunate it was for his rookie to be stuck with a Training Officer like him. If anyone met him today, they would think he was born stuck in his ways, a man destined to be encompassed by the negatives in life. 

But, contrary to popular belief, he wasn't always like he is now. In what seemed like many lifetimes ago, Tim used to be full of joy and light. He used to joke around with his coworkers and enjoy the things life had to offer. That life was long gone, all of it a forgotten memory; all of it except the golden wedding band that hung on a chain around his neck.

Despite it going against the uniform policy, Tim never took the chain off. He tucked it under his uniform, keeping it out of sight. Sargent Grey had caught him with it once and tried to reprimand him but stopped himself when he saw the ring hanging there. He knew what it meant, and what it meant that Tim was still wearing it. It meant that he hadn't given up.

(Y/N) Bradford had disappeared on the job nearly two years ago. Despite the presumption not being legally binding, everyone said she had probably been taken out by the cartel she had been hunting. She had made quite a name for herself within the LAPD for her ability to disband gangs and negotiate for them to stop their business, or at least reduce it.

Nobody was surprised when she disappeared, nor her partner when they vanished at the same time. They had tried with all of their might to track them down, SWAT teams busted multiple suspected locations but to no avail. It was as if they had disappeared off of the face of the Earth. Tim had tried to lead as many searches as he could but Grey had intervened, saying that he was too close to the matter to think rationally. He was right, Tim was on a rampage, he would not stop until he found her, no matter what, or who, got in his way.

He never gave up, even when every intuition and gut feeling he had told him to stop, he only pushed harder. He dedicated every free moment he had to following up leads. The detectives on her case were useless, he couldn’t trust them, he couldn’t trust anyone bar himself.

But life went on, he woke up every day, he went to work, he went home. Little changed, he got a new rookie, Lucy Chen, and he continued on the way he always had: one day at a time. Lucy pried the information of (Y/N)’s case out of him on the second anniversary of her disappearance. Tim had finally snapped, hopelessness coursed through his veins as he knew he was no way closer to finding her than he was two years ago. What he hadn't realised though, was that having a rookie meant that he had a fresh pair of eyes on a case, eyes that could see details that he had missed.

Lucy had taken what Tim had told her about (Y/N) to heart. She knew how hard it could be to be without the one you loved, she knew how much this must have hurt him. She had requested to see the case files, it took an exorbitant amount of favours and promises but she managed to get copies of the records.

She could see why Tim seemed resigned to the fact that he would never get his wife back. All of the leads took her nowhere. She would have to explain to him why she had taken the files out, why she had gone behind his back, and it would all be for naught. Gathering up the files, Lucy began to head back to the records room when a post-it note slipped out of the file. She crouched, huddling the rest of the paperwork to her side in hopes that it wouldn't fly everywhere, and picked up the paper. Lucy hadn't noticed it the first time around. On it was an address on the outskirts of LA, she had seen the area a few times when BOLOs had gone out.

——————

“Just hear me out, please!” Chen begged, rushing along behind Tim as she tried to keep up with rapidly increasing pace as they headed towards their shop.

“About what?” Tim stopped and turned around to face his boot. “How you went behind my back to go through that file? About how you went to that address? Alone might I add. About how you endanger your life, and potentially hers too? Is that it, or am I forgetting something?”

Tim was right, he had every right to be mad; she had done all of that stuff. But she couldn't give up, not now, not now that she knew that-

“Well?” He snapped.

Lucy stood her ground. “Her partner was there.”

A beat passed as she watched Tim pale.

“What?”

“Her partner was there.”

“What about- was she…?”

Lucy took a step forward, reaching her hand to her Training Officer’s arm, trying to bring some form of comfort but he recoiled. “No, but he said that they had spoken. The last he heard, she was near the Mexico/Arizona border. He said that he would try to speak to her.”

Tim felt like the world had come to a stop. All this time, all this time and she was so close by. He could have been there for her, he could have stopped all of this hardship and hurt. He could have brought her home, back to LA, where she belonged. He could have brought her back to him.  Questions spun through his mind. Was she okay? Was she safe? Did she know that she was declared missing? Had she had any contact with anyone else? Did she know that he had waited all this time for her? Did she wait for him? Tim tried to ground himself. She was alive, and that would be enough for now.

She was alive and he could live that.

| Part Two

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