#the perspective is fucked up he looks tiny

[francy-sketches]

forgot I made this and jumpscared myself

#context is i opened the browser on my phone to find out i had googled 'walter white ass' and thought 'lol jaime'. for some reason #walder the white #the perspective is fucked up he looks tiny #yea that's the biggesst problem in this image #am i gonna get banned for this pic #u know what fuck it i dont like seeing it whenever i scroll thru my drafts. be free <3 #help it got flagged lol. fair

[mikakuna]

i see this jason todd who actually looks his very young age (instead of the 30yr old man that comics like to portray)

and feel my heart breaking just imagining bruce beating him up, almost killing him, mind-breaking him, and just overall being a total piece of shit father towards him.

a huge chunk of the reason why people don't view bruce's actions towards jason as abusive or wrong is because jason doesn't look his age. he's drawn to be this 35yr old father of three who looks even older than dick (and way too on par with bruce) that people see their fights as one between batman and any of his regular rogues. when they fight, it just looks like batman is fighting a man his age and not an actual young person. it doesn't look like batman is fighting his son who's barely even drinking age (and who def wasn't drinking age in utrh). their fights are portrayed in a way that eliminates the very real power struggle between them.

this applies to jason's entire character as well. a lot of people don't sympathize with how he died or his actions as robin or his fights with the other bats because he doesn't look his age. he always looks older and scarier than everyone else. tim has many sympathizers from the titans tower incident because jason just looked like a grown man fighting a 12yr old (even tho i disagree, tim was built and like 17 lmfao).

anyways, i just wish comics would actually draw jason to look his age, which literally ranges from 19 to early twenties. he's young- so young, and it's so annoying to see him drawn and written as someone older than even bruce.

#the way everyone in jason's robin run saw him as this adult despite him being 12-15 #like what the fuck #just because a child has experienced more than the average adult doesn't make him any less of a child #it's like the typical groomer thought process #if jason was shown younger in arkham knigjt for example there'd be less people calling him whiny #they showed 15yr old jason's torture scenes like he was a 25 yr old #he should've been shown as the small child he was #it would've put more perspective into how cruel and fucked it was of the rogues to torture a literal child #and then bruce almost killing him in rhato... #now imagine if jason looked his age there #honestly this all just feeds into the idea that jason feels too small for his big body #imagine being this tiny kid growing up and then dying and coming back to life as this tank #arghhhhh!!!!! #jason todd #red hood #batman #jason peter todd #bruce wayne #jason todd deserves better

[bonetrousledbones]

sighs

#i had to erase Some Things so now he looks a lil gummy. ignore that <3 #anyway i really dont help myself do i. this is one of the fruitiest poses i've ever drawn #its So blurry tho. i'm gonna have to actually do lineart 😔 but im kinda thinkin of doing a micless stream for that hmmmmmmm #the reason its blurry is bc i accidentally drew it tiny as hell and then had to transform the fuck out of it to try some perspective #it has been 4 hours #goodnight ! yall better be NORMAL when i wake up ok. okay. #ebony #atbb #fauxfell

[harrysonlylover]

Safe Bliss*

Summary: A small glimpse into y/n and Harry’s life during pregnancy and his obsession with her.

Trope: CEO!H

Wc: 3.1k

Warnings: oral, creampie,doctor check ups, dirty talk, mentions of fertility and breeding.

A/n: My attempt at getting back

CEO H MASTERLIST

Harry’s love language is physical touch.

He’s obsessed with touching you at all times. His hands are rarely found clasped in his lap, they have to be on your skin.

It’s a sentimental gesture in your opinion, a very basic love language made special by him.

It’s not a surprise, after all, you met him during an orgy and he’s the CEO of a sex toys company. You’re accustomed to his antics but others aren’t. His dotting has become a daily routine in your life even before your pregnancy.

Your friends gave you weird looks whenever you went out on a double date, you were quite aware of what they meant but you could not care less. As for Harry, he would be far too gone to notice.

It’s safe to say that it’s always been you and him in a little bubble full of love and touches. This bubble grew bigger with peanut residing in your belly.

Every day you wake up and wait for your life to change, to realize that it was some sort of dream but it never happens. Harry changed your life upside down, it has nothing to do with money or power. He provided you with love you never knew existed, not even in fairytales.

Before you, Harry had no real purpose even when the world was at his feet.

One magazine cover after the other, interviews, meetings, invitations, events, fans, and even some offers from Hollywood directors. All felt mundane to him, things that any regular person would find astonishing.

Some sort of epiphany was fulfilled on a warm April night. He was trying to lose himself in sex, something he adored without shame. And where would he go if not his sex club?

 There are days where he likes to recall all the tiny details leading up to this life-changing moment, while on others he stares at you for a minute or two before letting out a silent prayer stemming from the disbelief of being yours.

It all happened so fast in a crowded room of sweaty bodies letting out their lustful energies. The air was charged with sexual tension as is normal, but the one that radiated off of you and Harry was different.

His entire body was on fire, his fingertips were numb and he felt intoxicated despite being sober.

He convinced himself that it was just the rush of adrenaline and that fucking you would get it out of his system.

He was wrong of course.

Barely 36 hours passed before he asked his secretary to find your number, followed by begging and pleading that he doesn’t necessarily wish to recall.

Now you’re pregnant with his first child, have some of his properties in your name, and will get his last name soon.

You both managed to change each other’s perspective about love and what it meant to be on the receiving end of it. He showed you how a real man should treat you.

His insistence on dating you had you feeling a bit paranoid. It’s a bit flattering when someone is infatuated with you, but Harry surely reached another level.

You were guarding your heart as a precaution from past experiences, so why would a famous rich CEO be any better?

Just like him, you were mistaken.

He went above and beyond to prove to you that he was not bluffing. Four months after your first date, you visited him at his office where you spotted a picture of you taken at a recent outing, framed, and placed near his computer.

That was a huge turning point for you, it opened your eyes to many of his actions that you did not notice before.

You didn’t notice that he bought you the flowers that were printed on your dress the night you met, that he changed his schedule so he could meet up with you, or that he protected your safety with many measures that could’ve hindered his public image.

His need for being around you intensified during the breeding period. He developed a new obsession where he would have you sit in his lap for cuddles, and easier access…

You would often catch him in the act of gazing at your tummy and most of the time, he fucked you senseless after.

His proudness of being your partner and baby daddy made him forget the fact that he’s a public figure. His tongue almost slipped on many occasions due to his excitement of becoming a dad.

The doctor checkups were a whole other thing. An appointment that usually takes around 20 minutes would end up taking an hour thanks to Harry.

Having read a load of books and consumed information from the internet, he would ask your gynecologist questions about your pregnancy and health that have the poor doctor questioning his career and tolerance.

It was moments like these that indicated what an amazing person he is. Every time you go for a check-up, he leaves you for a few minutes while you clean up and sort yourself. You’re aware that he does that to leave a donation and come back quickly but you never say anything.

His adoration for you seems to only get stronger with every passing day. He often worked from home because he “wanted to be around his loves”.

It is no longer a surprise to find his body clinging to you in the mornings instead of being at his office.

He’s simply in love.

Your pregnancy hormones are yet to kick in, but that’s not a barrier because you still take any chance you get to jump at each other like rabbits.

The slow growth of your breasts along with their tenderness and the prominent appearance of your nipples has Harry weak in the knees.

You could only wonder what will happen when you begin to lactate.

Today is one of those days.

You’ve been at it since the morning before he cooked you breakfast and served it in bed.

You both agreed that he should work so you urged him to lock himself up in his office and stay there till lunch.

Thirty minutes later, you found yourself arranging your shared bedroom and collecting laundry, but you couldn’t think properly, not when your fiancée was in the same house as you.

You were bending down near the bed when you felt something large pressing into your ass. You yelped and straightened your posture only to be met with the sight of a fed-up Harry and a bulge in his pants.

“Baby what are you—“

“I need you. Can’t stay away.” He pulled your body closer and attached his mouth to the back of your neck.

“It has barely been half an hour since we fucked.” You groaned knowing that he’ll fall behind on work if he continues behaving this way.

“Really? I knew it’s been a while!” His chuckle vibrated against your back as he engulfed you in a loving embrace.

“Did you even get some work done?” You questioned him with a bossy tone.

“No. Who cares? I’m the CEO.” He whispered lowly in your ear prompting goosebumps to rise all over your body.

Your entire system feels rigid whenever he mentions his power. He’s not someone who abuses it, and perhaps that’s what makes him attractive in your opinion. To explain it briefly, he’s fine with neglecting work just because he wants to be around his baby mama.

“Doesn’t mean you can boss me around mister.” You turned around to face him, cradling his face in your hand as you pressed your body closer to his.

“Never. You’re my boss.” And that is your man. Someone who’s not afraid to admit that their female partner has the upper hand.

Your giggles echoed in the room before joining your lips together in a rush as if you hadn’t seen each other in years. Harry is always extra excited to kiss you like it’s his first time (he cried during your first kiss)

“But..” He pulled back momentarily, gazing into your eyes as mischief took over his. “It doesn’t mean that I’m oblivious to the fact that you need to be fucked daily.”

You swallowed down your throat feeling his fingers travel over your hips and outer thighs. His lips attached to the nape of your neck, leaving subtle kisses that fuelled a fire inside of you.

It’s truly insane to think about the way your chemistry works. You just have to be near each other and everything else collapses.

“Baby..”. Your soft moans echoed in his ear as you held on to his bicep and grinded against his body. The laundry and his office work were long forgotten.

“Can never get enough of you my love.” He confessed breathlessly trying to keep his mouth attached to your skin.

The wetness between your thighs from earlier today having taken a load of his cum joined with the one being formed due to his pining is not helping you at all.

A wet patch covered your grey panties, the same ones he helped you put on claiming that he’ll stay away for good.

Obviously , that was a lie.

The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed. Harry’s arm was wrapped around your waist as you instinctively spread your legs for him.

“These pretty legs are always open for me aren’t they?” He grinned knowingly, rubbing circles to your inner thighs.

The pulsing in your pussy was unbearable. You could feel his cock brushing against your leg making you whine and roll your eyes backwards.

As of recently, all you could think about was his cock. How it was curved to hit the right spots, how it bred you perfectly and fucked you into madness . You simply want it inside you 24/7.

“H…”. It came out as a whimper when his fingers brushed purposefully over your sensitive cunt.

“Please just fuck me now.”

“Where are your manners sweetheart?” He tsked, slowly undressing you before prepping hungry kisses to your pelvis.

The gentle breeze from the open window invaded the room and tickled your skin as you closed your eyes and relished in the feeling of Harry’s touch over your naked body.

It felt like a prayer to him.

“Now let’s see if your greedy cunt swallowed all of my cum.” His voice, thick with lust and pleasure warned you of what was to come. This was not going to end with functional legs.

He refrained from mocking your soaked panties. Part of him knew that it would happen and the other part was proud that he caused it.

You stared at each other in adoration, ogling your bodies shamelessly. You could almost drool at the sight of his toned abs and pumped chest. The way his cock stood erect against his stomach ready to engulf your walls. If your legs weren’t spread beforehand, you would be squirming to relieve yourself. And if you weren’t pregnant already, your ovaries would be in pain.

He breathed in, attempting to hold back from pouncing at you like a predator. Your bump is slightly more prominent since you’re on your back, your nipples are erect and the change in your areolas is making his head spin.

“Wide hips, full breasts, swollen tummy and a dripping pussy. That’s my girl.” He spoke like a man who was proud of what he had done. If you didn’t wish to stay under the radar for a while, he’d probably tell strangers on the street that he’s going to be a dad.

“Well this pussy is feral and hormonal so get to it.” You were not here to mess around, you knew what you needed and he could never say no to you. Especially not when you’re using your hand to spread your lips and give him a glimpse of the stored load that he released inside you earlier today.

“Hormonal or not, you know I can’t get enough of you.” He positioned himself between your legs and lowered his face to inhale the smell of wetness mixed with his cum. It was like a ritual for him.

The only thing that didn’t change during pregnancy is getting your pussy filled with his cum. He was content in doing so pre-pregnancy and will continue to stuff you until you give birth.

His tongue caught some of the semen that was dripping down your inner thighs making you arch your back.

It felt so warm yet it stimulated your horniness. It made you aware that his cock wasn’t stuffing you to the brim. He’s obsessed with licking your pussy clean, and you know that he’ll fuck you when he’s done so you patiently wait.

He took a broad lick along your slit reaching to your clit, where he wrapped it around his mouth and suckled on it. You jerked your hips in reaction and tugged at his hair.

“Such a fertile pussy for daddy.” He spat on your vulva, observing how the saliva trailed down your already wet folds. Your hands gripped the sheets tightly in response.

Being inside the house every day with your fiancée felt like being in a sex club. The constant sex and foreplay prompted you to be wet at all times, but most importantly sensitive.

Your sensitivity increased and you didn’t care whether it was due to pregnancy or Harry’s hunger , because your orgasms have been countless.

“Ohhhh.” Your eyes were shut and your chest was rising up and down as you poured all of your focus on the way Harry’s tongue was suckling your clitoris.

The wet slurping sounds along with his moans were outrageous. His fingers dug into your skin but not as harsh as usual. He adored having bruises on your skin, the same way you leave crescent nail marks on his back, but he’s been very cautious since you began trying for a baby a few months ago.

“Should I praise this cunt for taking all of my cum or degrade it?” He looked up to you, his chin resting on your pelvis as he panted heavily with juices coating his chin and a fallen hair strand covering his forehead.

“Both.” You smiled reaching for his veiny hand that’s adorned with rings (and wetness) and brought it up to your breasts. Watching his pupils darken was a delight, your tits had gotten a bit fuller and you went only one bra cup up but that didn’t matter a lot since you never wore bras around Harry.

You knew intuitively that his lactation kink would kick in soon, he loves eyeing your breasts when you’re wearing a low crop top with your small bump on display. It makes him go down on his knees (literally).

“I’ve been ignoring these beauties haven’t I?” He cooed, towering his body over yours while keeping one of his hands cupped over your pussy.

You nodded at his question giving him fuck me eyes that had him hypnotized. He’s still not done with your pussy, but you loved making his head spin with your body. He’s aware that he can’t pleasure you everywhere all at once and it pissed him off.

“You’re a fucking goddess.” He kissed your sternum and moved slowly to your full tits where he swallowed down his throat upon laying his eyes on your perky nipples.

“You like them?”.Teasing him was entertaining. You tweaked one of your nipples followed by biting your bottom lip, before clenching your pussy knowing that his hand is placed there.

“I worship them.” He breathed out almost instantly and took the other bud inside his mouth.

“Gonna provide milk for our babies. Such an amazing mama aren’t you?”. Hearing him say “babies” in plural had you moaning. You can’t wait for him to breed you again.

He couldn’t contain himself once he began suckling on your breasts, his fingers that were cupping your pussy plunged inside it as he grinned at how your back arched in response.

“I can feel my cum deep in your pussy.” He whispered in your ear after reluctantly detaching from your bud.

“Guess I got used to raising my hips after all those breeding sessions.” He curled his fingers inside and he was not wrong at all. You felt the warm cum flowing inside of you and your whole body tingled knowing that you’ll get another load soon.

He suddenly retracted his body away from you and redirected his attention to your pussy that was dripping on his fingers. He tapped on your thighs, signaling for you to raise your legs over his shoulders. He was obsessed with being trapped this way.

He turned relentless with licking and suckling, balancing between overstimulating your sensitive nerve bud, plunging his thick fingers inside your warm walls, licking up your mixed juices, and slapping your vulva.

“Uhhh—fuck me.” You whined from the excessive pleasure he was providing you as you jerked your hips into his mouth.

“Oh, baby—I will. I’ll hit your cervix the way you like, the same way that got my seed into your womb.” He added in another finger while flicking your engorged swollen clitoris.

“But first, cum for me.” He ordered with a direct tone that dripped with authority. And who are you to refuse him?

Your orgasm washed over your body as your moans echoed through the room combined with curses. Your hand tugged at Harry’s hair who completely shoved his face in your pussy.

“Atta Girl. That’s it, sweetheart.” It was an intense orgasm and the aftermath was even more extreme. Harry pressed delicate pecks to your pulsating pussy and inner thighs as he murmured praises of love.

Your chest heaved and your pussy was clenching around nothing. It was one hell of an orgasm, more of a warm up even.

“Are you still going to fuck me?” You caught him off guard with your question. Your legs were shaking yet your grip on him was going to leave bruises. It seemed like you would cry if he didn’t stick his cock inside of you.

He moved your hair out of your face and kissed your temple. “Of course I will darling. Gotta take care of my pretty fiancée.” He took in your post-orgasm glow before leaving love marks over your bare skin.

You were intertwined together and the breeze from the window invaded the air with a rich aroma. Everything felt sweet and intimate. Harry’s body engulfed yours as he whispered the filthiest promises in your ear.

You were both stuck in a safe bliss.

Divider by @firefly-graphics

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[thebearer]

fall into me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: part 2 of follow me. your date with carmen.

contains: fluff. anxious carmen. mentions of mikey. but all fluff :)

Carmen was sure he was going to be sick. A new kind of sickness, where his stomach felt like it was going to fall out of his mouth and ass at the same time. He changed his outfit six times, slacks and a tie felt too formal. Jeans felt out of the question, and while the very cool guy on TikTok swore that slacks and t-shirts were in this season… Carmen couldn’t bring himself to wear it. 

So he wore his slacks, good shoes he still had from pretentious meetings in the restaurant, and his good button down, a steely type blue- the saleswoman told him it really complimented his eyes, then wrote her number on his receipt. Of course, Carmen didn’t call it. He’d never allow himself the simple pleasures like that. 

Carmen smoked the whole way to the restaurant, a bottle of cologne in his pocket, which he doused himself in on the corner, popping a mint. He saw you standing there, awkwardly on your phone by the light pole, head ducked to your screen in your black, silk, cowl neck dress. Carmen could feel his heart jump at the sight of you, cursing while he started to jog in the still new shoes. 

“Hey, shit, sorry.” Carmen apologized, his chest tightening and burning as he slowed in front of you. “I-I couldn’t find my phone.” Definitely not because I tried on a million different outfits and had a panic attack.

“Ah, so that’s why you didn’t text me back. Thought you ghosted me at your own restaurant.” You quipped, his heart plummeting, face falling with it. You grinned, shoving your phone in your tiny purse. “‘M fucking with you, Carm. I just got here.” 

“Oh,” Carmen sighed. “Yeah, good. That-That’s good. Do you want to go in?” 

“Sure.” You giggled. “After you, Chef.” 

“C’mon.” Carmen laughed lightly, shaking his head, hoping it would hide his burning cheeks. You were ahead of him, reaching for the door, his heart skipping when he saw it. “I got it!” 

You drew your hand back, looking at him carefully. The blush in his cheeks spread down to his neck. “I-I got it, let me get it.” Carmen nodded, pulling the handle. You glided past him, his hand ghosting on the small of your back, leaving you shuddering under his touch. It was casual, you doubted he even knew he did it, just a slight usher while he followed you in. 

“It’s so different being here at night.” You whispered to him, your arm brushing his while you walked to the hostess station. 

Carmen nodded. “I know, it’s, uh, it’s nice to see it like this, ya know?” He muttered. “See it from a customer’s perspective.” 

“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” You asked, your head tilting to the side softly. “Why we’re kinda doing this?” 

Carmen’s heart fell, swallowing around the lump in his throat. He could feel his own mind racing. Of course, you didn’t think this was a date. Why would you ever want to be on a date with him?

“I mean, yeah, sorta. Here f’you too. To thank you for everything.” Carmen nodded, eyes cutting to yours. Fuck, he knew he needed to look at you, he wanted to look at you, but it was so fuckin’ hard. When you looked so pretty, so effortlessly calm and cool. It made him fluster. 

“C’mon, Carm. You hired me, paid me. And you guys have been so nice. Most places are… horrible. Act like I’m bothering them when they hired me. You’ve got a good place, great staff. I’m glad you wanted me to be a part of it for a while.” You smiled, stepping up to the hostess station.

Carmen could feel his heart squeeze, an uncomfortably tight realization that this would be the last time he saw you. He’d been running numbers all night, seeing where he could take cuts so he could keep you, but even then, you’d be gone for at least another two months since you already took another job. By then, whatever you had here, would be gone. 

“Ah, there you are, the VIP customers for the night.” Richie schmoozed, sliding behind the hostess stand. 

You grinned, Carmen’s eyes downcast making Richie’s jaw tick. “How are you two this evening?”

“Great.” You beamed. “Excited to try this place. I’ve never been here before. Heard it’s the best in Chicago.” You nudged Carmen playfully with your hip, grinning at him. 

He gave you a tight lipped smile, hands by his side, trying to nonchalantly wipe his hands on his slacks. Richie smiled at you, glaring lightly at Carmen. “Well, you heard right, sweetheart. We want your night to be extra special, so we have this booth back here just for the two of you.” 

“Hey, Syd,” Tina muttered, looking up from her plating to see your head pass with Carmen’s curly locks. “They’re here.” 

“Shit, are they?” Sydney turned, looking through the window. “God, Carmen looks like he’s about to pass out.” 

“Fuck, he does, doesn’t he?” Sugar huffed, her hands on her hips. 

Richie caught Sugar’s eye through the window, a flickering glance that told her exactly what she needed to know. “So, I will have the focaccia out for the two of you shortly. Can I start you off with anything to drink?” 

“‘M good.” Carmen muttered, taking the leather bound menu into his hands, knee bouncing under the table. 

You looked a little uncomfortable, eyes cutting to Carmen’s before a moment of hesitation flashed over your face. “Uh, I’ll take a glass of whatever you think would pair best with the meal?” 

“Perfect. I’ll have that out.” Richie smiled, hoping his silent screams at Carmen would be enough for him to catch on. Fak passed, slipping a piece of paper in Richie’s hand. Richie stepped away, reading Sugar’s scribbled writing: “GET CARMEN BACK HERE NOW!!!!” 

“Excuse me, folks,” Richie greeted apologetically, though the two of you weren’t talking. “Carmen, I hate to do this, but I need you just for a second, ok?” 

Carmen nodded, sliding out of the booth without so much as looking at you. Richie fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, it’ll just be a second. That focaccia and riesling are on the way.” Richie grinned at you, stepping beside Carmen. 

“What’s goin’ on? Did we run out of-” 

“-No, you fuckin’ moron.” Richie huffed, letting the door slam shut. “The fuck is your problem, huh? You’re not even- hey, send that to six with the Cakebread white, ok?- You’re not even looking at her, c’mon, Cousin.” 

Carmen blushed, running a hand through his hair. “What? I-I’m talkin’ to her-” 

“-No, you’re not.” Sugar snapped, rounding the corner. “You look like an ass, Carmy. You’re on a date with her and-” 

“-It’s not a date.” Carmen shook his head, brushing it off. 

Sugar blinked. “You’re on a date with her,” She repeated, her tone firmer- a mom tone she’d adapted since working here that would help with the baby. “And you’re acting like a total-total…” Sugar waved her hands, stuttering over the word. 

“Jagoff.” Neil added, passing through the kitchen for a moment before going out the doors. 

“Thank you! Yes! A total jagoff.” Sugar glared at Carmen. 

“I-I don’t even think she thinks it’s a date-” 

The kitchen erupted in groans, shouting at him irritatedly. “Look at how she’s dressed. If she thought this was a free meal ticket, she wouldn’t wear that. That is a date night dress.” 

“That’s true.” Sydney added. 

Carmen couldn’t help the way his heart flipped with excitement, looking out the window at you, sitting at the table, nursing your wine slowly- alone. 

“Cousin, c’mere,” Richie motioned him, leading him towards the office. “Look, I get you got this whole ‘I deserve nothing good’ doom and gloom attitude, but that right there. That’s good.” Richie jabbed his finger towards the door. “I see you, ok? You guys got that cute little texting thing goin’ on, alright?” 

Carmen stilled. He felt like a teenager again, being teased and tormented by Mikey and Richie about a crush he had. How the fuck did he know about your texting? “Look, if you let her go tonight without even trying, you’re gonna regret it. You only got one chance, cousin, do not miss your chance to blow.” Richie said seriously. 

“Don’t fuckin’ quote Eminem to me right now-” 

“-Alright, alright, but seriously?” Richie nodded into the office, the tiny frame that held Mikey’s note ‘Let it rip!’. Carmen felt his stomach turn, guilt trilling in it. He knew Richie was right and that fact alone made him queasy. “Listen to Mikey, alright? You can have good shit in your life.” 

Carmen looked at the photo, taking a grounding breath, Mikey’s voice ringing loud in his ears. “Let it rip.” Carmen muttered, pushing past the double doors back to you. 

“Oh, no way!” You laughed. “You don’t have TikTok?” 

“No, no. Don’t have time for it.” Carmen shrugged, sipping his water. 

“Then how do you watch our videos?” You asked, brow raising in question. 

“I click the link you send me and it opens up just on my Google or whatever.” Carmen grinned, shrugging lightly, popping another truffle fry in his mouth. He’d nearly fallen over when you asked for ranch, teasing you lightly. You’d only shrugged, sticking one in your mouth, declaring it would taste better with ranch. You were kidding, of course, it was perfect. 

“Wow.” You smirked, finger tracing around the rim. “You’re missing out. It’s addictive.” 

“Yeah? It’s weird too.” Carmen snorted lightly. 

“Says you! You’re Mr. TikTok Famous and you don’t even know it.” You pushed his arm lightly, trying not to gawk at how firm his biceps were. Sure, you’d definitely seen them while he was working, but… they felt better than they looked. “Should see how you’ve got everyone in a tizzy. Chopping onions and marinating wagyu.” 

Carmen laughed, cheeks reddening at the compliment. “Yeah, those comments were…shocking.” 

“You think?” You cocked your head to the side. “I thought they were pretty normal.” 

“Half of them were asking me to violently punch them.” Carmen laughed, eyes widening at you. 

“Well, can you blame them?” You grinned, leaning in closer. “You got nice hands. Of course, they’re going feral. I knew what I was doing with that shot. Giving the people what they want.” 

Carmen blushed furiously, hoping you couldn’t see under the low light of the restaurant. “Nah, c’mon.” He looked down at his fingers, etched with tattoos. 

“You c’mon.” You grinned, reaching out a little daringly to trace a finger over his veins. You’d blame the wine for your boldness, but Carmen shivered under your touch. “You’ve got hot hands. No wonder they all go so crazy. You’re a pretty chef with good hands.” 

Carmen knew you had to see his blush now, sure his body temperature went up ten degrees, heart beating so bad in his chest he was sure he wasn’t going to make it another course. “Uh,” Carmen laughed, running his free hand over his mouth, hoping to hide some of his grin. He didn’t dare move his hand from his. “Well, thanks, I guess. I, um, I wanna say I think the same.” 

You lifted a brow, biting back a laugh when he stuttered, his eyes widening. Your giggles were infectious to him, a stream of his own nervous laugh spilling out of his throat. “No, I-I meant- fuck, I meant… I, uh, I think you’re pretty.” 

There was a pause, your own teeth pulling in your lip, grinning shyly at him. “Really?” You asked. You felt like you were in junior high again, finding out the boy on the JV team like liked you. It was giddy, the feeling in your chest. Warm, your heart skipping a beat. 

“Yeah.” Carmen nodded, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “Beautiful, really.” 

“Well, thank you.” You grinned, hoping to hide your smile behind your own glass of wine. Fak came by, dropping your next course off, a temporary relief for the moment, letting the two of you get yourselves together. 

“You think he’ll do it?” Sugar asked, pretending to roll silverware while Richie handed them to her. A meaningless job that just so happened to be by the window, so they could see the two of you. 

“I dunno. Could go either way.” Richie sucked in a breath. “He seems to be close, ya know? Think he has it in him to do it, just… fuck, I hope he does.” 

“Me too.” Sugar sighed. “Can you hear what they’re saying? It looks… nice? So that’s gotta be good, right?” 

“Yeah, hopefully…” Richie hummed, squinting to try and make out the words you were whispering to each other. The two of you were pressed together, migrated together as the meal went on until you were huddled, like it was the two of you. 

“I really don’t want you to leave.” Carmen admitted, body pressed to yours, hand in yours in the dim light of the booth. Everyone had left, all the patrons shuffled out and escorted to their cars. Some of the kitchen staff went home, but some stayed, pretending to be extra tedious with their cleanup so they could see the two of you. 

“I know. I’m having such a good time with you.” You agreed, tilting your chin up to look at him, lashes batting, eyes a little glossy from the wine. 

“No- I mean, yeah I-I’m having a good time with you, too. But I meant… leave forever.” Carmen admitted, the lump in his throat growing more and more with each word. “I really liked having you here.” 

“I liked being here.” You hummed, tongue running over your bottom lip lightly. “It was a lot of fun. I liked spending time with you.” 

“Yeah? I liked spending time with you too. A lot.” Carmen admitted. “And I… I want to keep spending time with you?” It came out more as a question, all hopeful eyes and a rounded gaze. “If-If you want to-” 

“-Yeah.” You grinned. “I wanna keep spending time with you. I like being with you, Carmen.” 

“Yeah? Really?” Camren was half convinced he was hallucinating. 

“Yeah.” You nodded. “If you wanna spend some more time with me too. I’d like to get to know you more, and not to just write a staff spotlight on.” You giggled, his lips curling at the sound. “To, like, really get to know you.” 

“I would… yeah, I’d like that. Like to get to know you too.” Carmen nodded. 

There was a pause, the tension between the two of you was thick. Your eyes darted from his lips back to his eyes, already leaning closer. Carmen could feel his stomach lurch with nerves, Mikey’s voice ringing over and over and over. 

Let it fuckin’ rip, Carmen thought before he moved in, lips on yours. His hands were clammy cradling your jaw but you didn’t seem to mind, your own arms snaking their way around his neck, pulling him closer, deeper into the kiss. 

“Holy shit!” Richie gasped, dropping the fork. “Look! Fuckin’ look!” 

The staff clambered around to huddle by the window, watching the two of you kiss, pulling apart with small smiles, before going back in. Carmen’s hands sliding down your back, your arms, your waist- fuck, he just loved feeling you like this, and he hadn’t even felt all of you. Yet. 

“He fuckin’ did it.” Richie grinned, awing at Carmen. “Hey, Sug, might be a bad time, but I believe I’m owed fifty dollars.” 

You pulled apart, grinning at Carmen, still huddled close together, his hands rubbing the silk fabric of your dress, your sliding through the curls on the nape of his neck. Your mind was dizzy, the rush of adrenaline, emotion, and buzzing from the wine. 

“What’re you doin’ tomorrow?” Carmen asked. 

“Nothing.” You hummed. “Why? You’ve got something in mind?” 

“Not-Not right now, actually.” Carmen admitted with a small laugh. “But I’d love to do something with you.” 

“Me too.” You smiled. 

Carmen looked around, catching his staff standing in the window, rolling his eyes when they darted after he caught them, scampering in different directions. “Um, it’s gettin’ kinda late.” Carmen looked at you, fingers drumming on his thigh- that was still touching yours. 

“Yeah.” You nodded, looking at your phone. “I guess I should go, and I’ll, um, I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

Carmen nodded, sliding out of the booth then offering his hand to help you. “Did you walk here?” 

“No, I took the L.” You walked towards the door beside him. It was quiet, the soft hum from the kitchen, the muffled clatters of pots and pans being put away. 

“Me too. I’ll ride back with you?” Carmen offered. 

“I thought you lived like three blocks away?” You giggled, tilting your head to the side. “And I’m in the opposite direction.” 

“Yeah, I-I do.” Carmen nodded. “I just… You shouldn’t ride alone at night, ya know? Shit could happen and… I don’t want it to. To happen to you.” 

You could feel the heat flushing through your cheeks, through your chest. You laughed lightly. “Is this your way of trying to come home with me?” You lifted a brow playfully. 

“No! No.” Carmen shook his head, flustered, which made you laugh harder. 

“I’m kidding, Carm.” You giggle, reassuring him. “But… if you wanted to come stay the night. Since it’s late… and you’re insisting on coming with me on the L.” 

“I don’t wanna make-make it weird, or come off like that. I-I really am… I like you.” Carmen stuttered. Fuck, there was nothing more tempting than that invite, but Carmen didn’t want to fuck this up. He really didn’t want to fuck this up. 

“I mean, stay over so we can talk more.” You gave him a pointed look. “We were having a good conversation. Weren’t we?” 

“Yeah, no, yeah. Yeah, we were.” Carmen stuttered, hand on the door, twisting the lock though his eyes never left yours. 

“So… You want to come over then? Finish telling me about Copenhagen? Please?” And how could Carmen say no, his head spinning with excitement when he walked out behind you, letting the door fall shut, your arm looping around his while you walked towards the L. 

Richie ran to the front, pushing the door open with Sugar and Tina, watching the two of you walk towards the station. “Good job, Cousin.” Richie muttered. 

#thebearer #carmen berzatto #bearblahs #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #thebearerblurbs #carmy the bear #carmy smut #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #carmy x reader #sugar berzatto #natalie berzatto #richie jerimovich #sydney amadu #the bear #the bear fx #the bear season 2 #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #carmen berzatto imagine

[gremlingottoosilly]

[If you need to be mean] chapter 2

Chapter 1

Konig decided to meet his new favorite civilian at the cafe you work at. Unfortunately for both of you, you're both socially awkward. TW: Konig being a huge pervert, Canon-Typical violence, Dub-Con, Innocence kink, Age difference(Konig in his yearly 40, Reader in young 20)

Pairing: Konig x fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, Power Imbalance, Hurt/Comfort, Size Kink, Possessive Konig, Yandere Konig, Creepy scary stalker Konig, written mostly from Konig's perspective

— Did something good happen, colonel? You are practically shining. 

Horangi always had this special ability of telling nonsense with the most serious face and deep voice. He also was the only one in his unit to ever be brave enough to joke with his superior – even though all the other KorTac members usually don’t risk their asses to be put on fire list because of some silly joke. He is the closest König has to a friend – and it’s kinda sad, actually, that a broken gambling addict is the only person who can read his emotions so well, even with his hood and permanently sour expression. 

But something good did happen – you happen, of course. 

He spend a few days of self-reflecting, drinking and punching training manekens in the gym, trying so fucking hard to put your adorable civillian face out of his mind. You were out of sight alright, but the way your features would get distorted into something even more adorable every time he closed his eyes, was concerning. He dealt with those little obsessions before – nothing that a few good rounds of jerking off until he would feel nothing but emptiness and hatred to himself couldn’t handle. He surely can’t fall that deep down, he only saw you for like an hour and it was literally three days ago! 

— I read your reports about the last terrorist encounter. Good job, Horangi. 

— And I heard about that civilian girl you pulled, sir. Thought we are bringing those to the police, not their houses. 

— I had to make sure she wasn't a spy. 

— And she wasn’t? 

König thinks – would be far easier if he would have an official, legal reason to keep you locked up on the base without the right to come out. Would be far easier for him to just think about you as an enemy, so he would have normal reasons for thinking about you constantly, and not feeling guilty. It’s normal to think so much about your enemies – this is what keeps you alive on the field, if you can determine their shortcomings early and make sure that you can fight them. He would love having you as an enemy – it would at least give him some info before starting obsession over little ol’ you. 

— No. 

— That would give us at least some lead to the terrorist cell. Feels like all locals are protecting them from it. 

— I understand your frustration. But at least they are not cutting our pay. 

— We might as well rebel if they’d try to. 

— We are not stepping on terrorist’s route. 

— I was joking, sir. Only thing that’s left here except for card games. 

Horangi hates stationing in this country as much as König is – and, given that he is a sergeant and doesn’t have as much rank expectations, can talk about this openly. This operation is perfect except for the lack of intel, lack of action and lack of basically anything to do – the local forces are handling minor threats, while mercs here are mostly to show off how the government has money to hire them. KorTac would pay for actually having to fight some bad guys around here – but the bigger ones are hiding and lower ones are already getting tracked down by the local military. 

The only interesting thing to do, seemingly, is to obsess over local girls – and König thought he is better than this. 

But he isn’t losing sleep over thinking about how scared and fragile you looked that night. Especially not even going to think about how adorable your little pout was, and the way your hands were trembling. He definitely doesn't want to know every tiny detail about your life, what you like and what you hate, what is your favorite position in bed and the color of underwear you are currently wearing – or even if you are wearing one. And he isn’t some sort of creep that would spend an obnoxiously long amount of time registering on social media – god, he is too old for this shit, it literally feels even more humiliating than his whole school experience – just so he can find your accounts and get instant masturbation material. 

You really shouldn’t post so much half-naked photos – yes, this is a reel from your last summer vacation and yes, this swimsuit looks beautiful on you, but have you ever considered that some creep(not someone like him, he is palming himself very respectfully) would use those photos as a way to get themself off? Terrible, scary, he can’t wait for you to post some new photos – maybe in something that he would buy you, way skimpier and more expensive, so he could protect you from those people. 

He looks at your posts about work – and he hates this stupid blue bird app because it never works for him, always filled with some assholes who are trying to argue with literally everyone, and the way he can’t even see your posts properly because of the weird ads. No, he doesn’t need a “Thing that would make your dick longer” he literally has a problem with making it smaller. No, he doesn’t need some dumb T-shirt even though he kinda reflects with the funny pun about pokemons and would love to wear something containing his major interest even though it would look ridiculous on a 6 '10 killing machine. 

But König reads all of your short posts about the way you hate working in customer service, and his hand is almost slipping to the ad about wedding rings. You hate your job, he hates his – practically soulmates, even though he doesn’t really hate the killing part of his employment, he just doesn’t want to be in charge of people and making them steal the fun of destroying. He would, however, agree to get as many ranks as possible if that would mean providing for you. If that would allow him to be by your side and listen to your sweet voice, he would agree for the next promotion even if higher ups would want him to make some PR wawes and become a fucking fashion model. 

But he is completely sane about you. Totally normal. Absolutely nothing is wrong with him when he can’t even think about visiting you in real life, but he leaves a like on every of your posts in every social media he has – you have terrible online safety habits by the way, he can already see what the inside of your apartment looks like, your place of work from three different angles, and how the front door of your apartment is held together by a very easy to destroy lock. He could snatch it in one deliberate kick, not even speaking about just shooting it. Not like he would need to, he wants you to be with him willingly. Or, at least, don’t fight him too much in case he would actually lose his patience and do something drastic. 

It has already been three days and he feels like he is going crazy. He had those things before, overthinking about tiniest details in someone he never truly knew, but even then he’d understand that he can’t be with them – it could be his school crushes that were, ironically, crushed because of his anxiety. It might be some casual flings with his fellow soldiers that would either get killed in the field or never happen because it would be fraternization. Some random people he saw at the airport and already imagined life with multiple kids and a dog. He always knew he had a problem – but it was never like this before. Never dangerous. 

The problem is – he knows that he can have you. 

Maybe not in a traditional way, he doubts that you would just marry him on the spot, but he can court you at least. He can shower you with gifts or ridiculous tips at your job, he can just snatch you away and leave you as his perfect little bedmate. He can make his men kidnap you, and while it is inhumane and you don’t deserve this, he would calm you down – and then have his happily ever after. 

He knows that he can have you – and it drives him crazy. He could stop himself previously, when he didn’t have anything for himself to be considered desirable – but now, with his rank and all the new opportunities and money it brings, he can’t stop but fantasize. 

You under him, panting and blushing, lips puffy from kisses, skin glazed from sweat and marked with his teeth.

You under him, so wonderfully tight, not letting him go even for an inch – and you are perfectly taking him, no matter how gigantic he is. 

You under him, smiling, cuddling after a long night – every night after a mission, where he could spend his free time deep in your body, listening to your melodic moans and little whines. 

You under…

— Can I…can I take your order, sir? 

He is a disgusting human being because lives of thousand people are on a stake, he would just doom them all if he wouldn’t find those terrorists soon – and he wastes time on sitting in this tiny ass cafe, trying to place himself on the small seat while being all too nervous to just talk to you. Like a person. Of course he had to go to your shift – he already determined which days you were working because it increased the number of angry “I hate my job and want to kill my manager” posts on that dumb social media, and he knows which hours you work at – of course it’s almost night time, the closing shift, because he simply can’t have himself not worry about you. 

He is a creep, weirdo and all that words in a song that he’s been blasting in his tiny headphones all of these days because he can smell the sweetness of your perfume and the way you are munching on the pen you are using to write his order. Oh, yes, order. He is supposed to order something, he can’t just give you money for how adorable you look in that white apron – even though you are absolutely stunning and should get money. 

God, he would murder everyone in this building just for them to never look at your legs again. 

God, he would bury himself between them if only you’d allow him to.

— Sir, is everything okay? 

He served in the military for far longer that you lived, probably. Most of his life, he got used to being referred to as something honorable, or referring to other people like that – and he never thought that just being referred to as “sir” would make his dick twitch in his pants. He crosses his legs, hoping not to get too imposing – he already towers over the tiny table like a giant he is, barely even fitting in it. He thinks he has a healthy amount of self-control – then he looks at you again, and thanks all the gods he knows for the mask he is wearing – at least under the black surgeon piece and dark glasses you won’t really see his blush. Or that little twitching in his eyes that is indicating danger. 

— Sorry, I…can I, um, have a coffee? Bitte…please, I mean. 

He hates how nervous he is – like high school again, asking his crush out just to be ridiculed. But you look perfect like this – controlled environment, you can’t just laugh at him and say that he is a weird nerd from another class, you have a manager who is controlling of such behavior. He would never tell on you, of course, he wants you to be happy, even if this job makes you the most miserable – even though he kinda thinks of you as a weak for this, his job literally involves killing people and he doesn't argue that much! 

But you giggle – sweet, innocent sound, it drives him crazy even more than he previously was. It doesn’t feel like those girls at school – yes, he still can’t let that go, even though his therapist says he has to – and he loses all control at how beautiful you sound. He wants to take you away right now, pay you for your workplace however you get them, and just use you as he wants – no matter how socially unacceptable. He protects this country, he has the right for a little prize, right? No, this would be terrible, he shouldn’t just harass sweet little civilians like you, he should…

— What type of coffee, sir? Do you want some dessert? 

This is a typical question, he was at cafes and coffee shops a thousand times but, for some reason, it feels almost like you are teasing him. You bite the end of your pen with those adorable teeth of yours – he wants to feel it on his fingers, he wants you to leave bite marks all over his body as a sign of marking him as yours. He smiles under his mask, hoping that you would somehow feel it – how happy you make him feel, how hard it’s for him not to lose control. 

— No. Just coffee. 

— Sugar? 

He would like some sugar, of course – but the one he wants is probably not for sale, even though that adorable white apron of yours makes you look like a candy. He would love to unwrap you from those silly clothes and devour what belongs to him for the right of protector, but he knows how scared you might be. He is not a good person, he killed more people that he could count – countless fathers, sons, mothers, he shouldn’t even think about having a right for a family of his own after all of this. He is not a good person and his moral code changes with every kill he gets – but for hell sake, he wants to be nice with you. You deserve it, he knows. More than he is, for sure. 

König doesn’t really like sugary stuff, it was always too childish, made him too energetic, disrupted his very peculiar way of eating things. Sweets makes him only more hungry, makes him crave more, and he wants to be as serious as possible – so he usually drinks and eats stuff that is no tastier than a pile of dry sand. But he responds before he can think, too focused on that shiny lipgloss you have on your lips. He would lick and bite it all – soon, he hopes. 

— Ja. Thank you. 

— Good choice, sir.

Your lips are curling into a small, shy smile and he likes sugar now. He isn’t sure if you are telling everyone that their order is a good choice, maybe you just want to get more tips, but he hopes that maybe, he is special. Maybe there is something nice happening to him after all. A small reward for not being a total monster on the last mission he had, even though he could. He can’t do anything but to stare at you, his only saving grace is the dark lenses of his glasses – he can’t wear his hood in civil situations, unfortunately, people would stare, stare, stare and that would make him want to pull their eyes out. 

But you smile and he smiles also, even if you can’t see it. He is looking at your legs and, fuck, he is a disgusting old creature that preys upon younger women because he never had a positive experience before. He is a total creep and a monster that should be put down already – but he stares at your legs under that waitress dress, and he would pay your manager a few thousand Euros to cut the length of your skirt in half. 

Then he sees all the others looking at you the same way – old people, young people, there aren’t a lot of guests at this time in the evening, most people are afraid of going into public places while the war on terrorism is going on. There aren’t a lot of people while it’s almost closing time, but he doesn't even want to think about all the other men looking at you like this. Devouring you with their eyes, probably leaving sleazy comments as you go through the small cafe, just as overworked as your other coworkers. He wants to take you from here. 

You don’t deserve people looking at you like you aren’t even a person – only he can look at you respectfully, stripping you with his eyes. He can be soft for you, can be perfect – if you would just let him. 

König doesn’t want to be a creep around you, but he was looking at your legs for five minutes already, picturing the way your body would look under all of these clothes, and his cock gets painfully hard. He thanks himself for wearing normal, baggy pants, not something tighter – at least his embarrassment is completely covered by his clothes. 

— Here is your coffee. Anything else? 

You look nervous, of course – but he seems way softer than he was a couple days ago, at night. The absence of his creepy mask is obviously helping, and because he is sitting, you don’t have to tilt your head too high, causing your neck to stretch uncomfortably. He looks awkwards, like a big dog that still tries to fit into his old bed, and it causes you to smile a little bit more. You made sure to place a couple of sugar cubes on the plate, so he could decide for himself, if he wants to use them all – but the mere thought of that giant of a man, a colonel, hardened soldier liking something silly and sweet is making you giggle. 

He looks way softer than he was that night, and you can almost forget about how scared you were – how you were thinking that this would be the end for you, that one, overthinking part of your mind already making up the scenarios of getting martial lawed because of the broken curfew. You can even see his hair – and fight the urge to touch it a little. He is still who-knows-how-old and still a military presence in your peaceful country. 

You still want to ruffle his hair. 

He still wants to take your clothes off and make you his. 

— Nein, thank you. 

He stares at the cup for a good few seconds – if he wants to drink, he needs to actually take it off. He has many scars on his face, and his mouth sometimes feels like it has more dead skin than alive one – he doesn’t want to attract attention. Some people are already staring at his badge and how awkward a giant man like him looking in that cozy, tiny place – but he also wants you to see how much pain he can withstand without getting killed. How he can protect you from anything because there literally isn’t anything he won’t do for you. You would appreciate a man with scars, it’s a sign of bravery, right? 

Then he thinks about all the times he would take off his mask and how people around him would look at him – with pity, with fear, with disgust sometimes even though he is certain that his face isn’t as deformed as some other parts of his body. He even almost managed to grow a beard once! Then he had to scrub it all off because hair was growing in very uneven patches and he looked like something crawled on his chin and died. 

König fought in countless battles, spent his youth training to be the best killer possible, took part in many major conflicts and killed hundreds of people while feeling nothing but recoil. He isn’t afraid of anything – except for talking to people sometimes, maybe, and even now he is trying to work on it with his therapist, instead of just killing anyone who looks at him funny. He isn’t afraid of the dark, of death, of uncertainty in his life. But he is afraid of you looking at him unmasked and thinking that you, in fact, find him disgusting. 

You almost want to take your time to look at what he will do – is he going to take off his mask? Is he going to drink right through the fabric? You have too much work to just stay at his table and stare, even if you want to – but you are trying to give him occasional glances as he just…sits at his table. Not even moving, just staring at the cup and sometimes moving his head to look at you – or just ornaments at the wall behind you. Yes, probably the ornament. 

König sits at the table and, well, he doesn’t even want to drink his coffee because just looking at the way your ass sways under that terribly short skirt is enough to set him on fire. He wants to take you home with him – even though his home is all the way up in Austria. He would take you, you probably wouldn’t even be mad at you – you could be a perfect little family. He already waited too long to start one, never finding anyone who would win his heart for a long run but he was sure that this three-days-obsession would last long. He isn’t sure, however, if he likes it or not. 

He ended up not drinking at all – he knows that he can’t just waste multiple hours, he already got his lieutenants covering the spot with paper work while their commander is away at searching for the love of his life. He wants to be with you longer, probably walk you home again and make sure to protect you from any creeps that would want to attack. He can’t have that, it’s obvious – he is a colonel, unfortunately, he is still on the hunt for those terrorists, he can barely give himself an hour of free time these days. 

He already indulged in his fantasies too much when he folds a 100 Euros banknote and puts it into the bill – not sure about how much money it is here, not wanting to give you any trouble with exchanging currency, he just hopes that would be enough for you to at least not worry about food for a few days. Or buy yourself something nice – what girls like these days? Guns, books, some fancy lip gloss, a hat for their adorable little turtles? He would buy you a pet turtle, he always wanted one as a kid – right before his father said that all lizards are products of sinful corporations and a lazy pet like a turtle, unlike a giant dog breed, is completely useless and unmanly. 

He doesn’t want to be here when you’ll get the bill – he is too afraid that he didn’t gave you enough, that you'd be disappointed. He would love to give you more, of course, but he doesn’t want to just shove you the money like you are some sort of cheap whore – he wants to give you gifts, something meaningful, to steal you from poverty altogether. König is an expert in infiltration and escaping arts, he can exit the location without anyone noticing a thing, even with his size – and then you look at him, directly into his eyes, covered by sunglasses – and your face is twisted in shock as you realize what exactly he left you. 

— Wait, sir! Please, I…god, I will get you the change right now, I’m so sorry, it’s closing shift, I…I’m sorry, I completely forgot…

You are almost begging him to stop and let you give him his money, a honorable deed really – but all he can think of is how nice you would look on your knees, begging him to fuck you already. How perfect you would look all whiny and spoiled, asking him for something expensive, whatever your cute head would want. You would look so complete on his lap, tugging on his shirt and asking your daddy for a new toy. You would…

— It was a tip. Take it. 

He wants to be able to tell you how perfect you look, how he wants to just throw you over his shoulder in a totally non-creepy way and make you his little wifey. How he would take multiple months of leave to just be with you, marry you, breed you. He wants to have a way with words, but they are useless to him – he can’t even say he likes you, it’s embarrassing, he is almost forty, he got his rank as youngest colonel in history of KorTac, he can literally have almost everything he wants – except for basic social skills. 

He feels like a creep, an old man trying to steal that perfect girl from the shiny world, and he hates himself for it – but then you blush and he can almost convince himself that yeah, you like that creep too. 

— I…shit, I mean, sorry…thank you, sir. 

— Don’t wander at night again. 

He feels like a scolding father and you giggle again, too innocent and naive to understand his thoughts. 

— I won’t. Promise. 

He then slowly leans closer, puts a hand on your shoulder again – goosebumps are running on your skin. His head is near yours now, he is whispering in your ear – and you are almost sure that you shouldn’t have come closer to him like this, that it’s unprofessional from your side, that everyone is staring at you. They are – and you try to ignore it, but…

— Wear shorts under your skirt next time. Never know who might look at your legs like that. 

You would slap him here and there. You would scream and run away right now, but for some stupid, dumb, completely terrifying reason, you…almost like how protective he sounds. And the money he gave you is also helping – even if just a little bit. 

König looks at the way you blush even more, and he knows already that he won’t ever let you go. 

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#call of duty #cod x reader #cod x you #cod #konig mw2 #konig x reader #reader insert #yandere #yandere konig #yandere x reader #yandere cod #fem reader

[callofdudes]

Hiya! How are you doing? Hope you doing okay. Btw, if you have time, can I request TF141 with Fem! Reader who is emotionless. The men’s went to visit Y/n place for her birthday but they heard loud bark in her house. When Y/n open the door the men’s are pin down by a lot of puppies. They though she has scary dog only to meet cute puppies. Imagine when the men’s see Y/n cuddle/hanging out with her puppies and she her smile a bit during her birthday they be like ‘Dammit! So cute!’ And almost faint seeing the light above of her like an angel.

Thank you for being so patient anon, I'm trying to get these done, ahh!

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Ghost is pretty used to how you act on base, and while he doesn't exactly trust the whole emotionless thing (that's his thing, back off his permanent emo phase) he does give you space and respect you.

So much so when you invited him to come over after a long mission needing a break from life, he just decided to except. To hell with it, at least he knew you wouldn't bother him.

And plus, it was your birthday in a couple days so what was the real harm in saying no??

So he shows up with his bags a couple days later, not expecting anything special until he rang the doorbell.

Now.

Simon.

Loves.

Dogs.

There are few things he loves more in this world than tea, arson, and dogs. So when he hears a bunch of barking he rightfully assumes you have a dog, unless you just have that playing to scars people, which he wouldn't put it past you.

You come to the door, struggling to open it before he's bombarded at the glass screen, seeing a bunch of tiny puppies jumping and wagging their little tails in excitement to meet a new person.

And Simon nearly dies of how utterly fucking cute that is. You open the door and their jumping at his legs, yipping as he comes in and puts down his bag, on their little legs rushing to sniff the new item in the home.

"Sorry about them." You apologize.

Simon shrugs, melting. "That's alright."

The puppies are pretty adorable, one of them even wants to sleep on his bed with him. And Simon gets used to them, pulling them into his lap and stroking them, cradling them, occasionally following you when you take them for walks.

But when you're both sitting in the living room, Simon scrolling through his phone and you on the TV. He can't help looking over and seeing two of them curled up on your lap and passed out. The others all snuggled close as you barely cling on to the TV remote.

He stares, lip turning up slightly under his mask, seeing how cute the scene was. It was pretty damn adorable.

And he's going to miss those puppies when he goes home. But now he has a nes perspective on you as well. He knows you're gentle.

You pretend not to have emotions, and in your line of work he understood, but he saw the gentle side of you. The nurturer, even if it was too a bunch of cute puppies.

Also.

Let him see your puppies again.

Please.

He's begging you.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Now, Johnny probably would have declined your offer to stay at your house if he knew you had dogs. Johnny hates dogs, and is not afraid to kick one on the spot.

But you wanted to throw a party for your birthday and he couldn't just.. decline to go to your birthday. That was horrible, he was invited, he had to go!

He doesn't want to be cruel to dogs or go out of his way, but they scare him. And he doesn't like being near them.

He grabbed his bag and knocked on your door, immediately tensing when he heard the sound of yips coming toward the door.

Please don't let it be a big dog, please don't let it be a big dog.

You rushed to the door, struggling to open it and Johnny was suddenly swarmed by tiny puppers.

He tensed a little and you apologized, herding them back inside and letting Johnny in. Luckily they were distracted by the scent on his bag long enough he could make it to the living room.

"Sorry about that, should have told you."

"Oh ah, no no that's alright..."

He chuckles softly as the puppies get excited from the new guest, some scrambling to hop into his lap when he sits down and you have to gently remove them from him so he can get settled.

You smile softly as you pull them off and gently, lovingly scold them on crawling all over him. He can't help a little smile when you pick one up, drawing the rest to follow you to the couch.

You flop down, tossing Johnny the remote as the puppies crawl up to you, yipping and snuggling up.

Johnny puts on some YouTube video for experimental slow motion capture explosions for a bit.

Eventually looking over to see if you're even interested, only to see you passed out on the couch with the puppies all curled up.

He watched, smiling softly seeing you so relaxed. You were gentle and kind and now you were soft, all curled up like the world was calm. He grabbed the throw blanket and gently laid it over you, turning off the TV.

One of the pups squirmed out from under your arm, yipping as he moved to the stairs. Johnny shushed the pup softly so you could continue to sleep and he headed down to his room.

You were pretty cute like that, all curled up with a bunch of puppies.

Just... It might not be as cute when they get bigger.

But for now, absolutely adorable.

And now he thinks he might try to get you to open up a little more. Because clearly you aren't simply what you want to be seen as. And he wants to know you. That gentleness he saw that day with your puppies.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle doesn't feel any which way about either animal. He's slightly more of a cat person but would say he likes cats and dogs equally.

He didn't really have any particular thoughts about you either. You were on the team, you got the job done, and that was good. You were quiet, like Ghost, and that was something he could appreciate.

He might have declined the offer to stay over, but it was you'd birthday and you had offered. And what's a week in someone else's home he didn't have to worry about rent and resources? (Gaz math)

So he found himself at your doorstep with really not much idea of what to expect. He didn't think much of it when he rang the doorbell and heard a bunch of yips and little barks.

You must have dogs. Or puppies from the sounds of it.

And he was right, looking down as you opened the door, seeing puppies skittering around and wiggling excitedly. You opened the door, nodding to Kyle, who nodded back.

"Sorry about them, off." You commanded, helping Kyle to put his bag down on the kitchen chair. He watched the puppies dance around between and around his feet.

"That's a lot of puppies." He put his hands in his pockets.

"And I love them all." You smiled softly, cooing them over to the couch. Kyle watched all of them waddle over, yipping and scrambling to get up into the couch.

You curled up in a blanket with them all, one of them staying back to sniff Kyle's pantleg and nibble on it a little.

Kyle watched the little puppy, bending down to pick him up and felt his soft coat. He was very cute puppy, very light too.

"They are beautiful... What breed??" He looked up, noticing your eyes were closed. The light from your blinds casting on you in just a way he could tell it had been a long day.

He smiles softly, thinking how cute it was paired with your earlier words.

He attempted to put the one puppy down but it scrambled back, following him as he took your advice and also went to pass out for a nap.

Eventually waking up with that same pup curled up with him. He went upstairs to see you still sleeping, and he couldn't help thinking it cute s second time.

You were soft, gentle with the small animals. So comfortable with them. He couldn't stop s small smile. So this was the real y/n... He'd like to see more of you.

And he thinks your puppies are adorable.

John Price

Price is like Kyle in that he doesn't really prefer one species over the other, he vibes with both. Though he's leaning more dog person.

You on the other hand, your skill alone is what got you on the team. Price wishes you would be less 'emotionless' and try to open up even a smidge to the others. Even a little bit of teamwork can lead to a lot of success and smoothness.

But oh hell he picked you all...

That's what he couldn't help thinking as he drove down to your house for your birthday. It was mid leave and Price was headed over to celebrate the day with you and make sure you wouldn't be alone.

Showing up at your door, he didn't his little dad shoulder roll and knocked. When he got no response he rang the doorbell, immediately hearing loud barking and yipping.

His eyebrows raised slightly. He didn't take you for a dog person. Unless he's at the wrong house, in that case, fuck him.

But he's reassured it's you when you open the door, giving him a half a smile for effort. "Captain, sorry, I was trying to put them away."

Price chuckles when the small puppies jump up at his legs and run around him, smelling all the new smells on him.

"That's quite alright."

You open the door further and let him inside. Price steps in, the small puppies yipping and jumping. You try to gently scold them off but Price doesn't react, letting them do their thing.

"Sorry, I can make you tea, we can sit down??"

Price nodded. "That sounds lovely actually, thank you."

You nod, grabbing out two cups and getting the kettle ready.

You two pass time talking until you get to the couch, Price crossing a leg over, one of the pups hopping up into his lap, yipping at him and snuggling up to his stomach.

Price can't help chuckling again as you talk. The rest of the puppies curl up with you, you'd arms wrapping around them all, trying to squeeze your love gently into their tiny bodies.

The quietness somehow seeping in along the way until Price looks up from petting the small puppy to see you nodding off against the arm rest.

The sun through the window hits you nicely and Price sighs softly. Seeing how tired you looked, how gentle you were.

Price always knew it, he knew the soft soul under those faces. And now he saw it, seeing how utterly adorable you were curled up with your puppies.

He walks over, setting down the pup from his lap against you, having a feeling he'd feel better there.

He pulls the throw blanket over you, rubbing your arm gently. Guess he's making dinner to give back for making him tea.

He looked back into the living room, seeing you still passed out. Maybe, with some more work he can get you to open to him. He liked seeing you so cuddly up.

You were so gosh darn adorable, almost as adorable as the puppies themselves.

(sorry it's short, it's late and I wanted to at least get something out, blep.)

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #ghost x reader #captain john price #call of duty headcanons #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick headcanons #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish headcanons #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley headcanons #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #fluff #little blurbs because it's late 😔

[hyunsvngs]

Okay wait hear me out okay.... fem!skz except chan. P P P PUSSYFEST??? bonus if theyre ur best friends and channie is ur bf... IM GONE B

lemi i have another concept.

WHAT IF chan's best friends with them all and channie is your bf. you're a little insecure because like.. what type of guy has seven female best friends right? until he tells you no, baby, they all prefer girls, and suddenly your perspective shifts. you end up getting closer to them than you intended to, and when chan proposes the idea of you having a little fun with all of them you honestly feel like you could cum without taking your panties off.

and you do, feeling cute innie's pussy grinding into yours through both of your panties. her panties are cute, pink satin, drenched with her slick and almost falling off of her hipbones with the fervence she's grinding at. you can see the beginning of the smattering of her pubic hair through your hazy eyes. you thought she'd be the innocent one, but god, she might be the worst, with that blissed out grin on her lips and her long, dark hair swept over one shoulder to expose her cute, perky tits. it's not long before you're cumming, soaking the fabric with a loud keen while she fucking talks you through it - "that's it, baby. cum all over my panties, that's it, all messy. messy girl."

when she's done with you, seungmin is a force to be reckoned with. you could've guessed that, really. your boyfriend chuckles in anticipation once seungie gets you in bed, forcing your legs to spread open and - oh. she's got this massive strap on beneath her black pleated skirt, bright pink and glaringly obviously going to be inside you very soon, and you can't wait. it's obvious you can't wait, and seungmin can't help herself, quipping "my dick must be bigger than yours, old man," and making chan groan in (faux) distain when she slides the whole thing inside of you. seungmin's hips are wild, but practiced, and she covers your mouth to silence your wails and even slaps you about a little. it drives you insane.

lixie is a little sweeter with you. she lets you finally take your time with one of the girls, letting you slide the straps of her white lace bralette off of her narrow shoulders and trace your lips down the freckles dotted across her chest. her tits are small, perky, and she coos cutely when you wrap your lips around a dusky nipple. she asks you if you'd like to try and eat her pussy, and of course you do. chan's more vocal when you're with lixie, instructing you on how to kiss her - you know she's one of the ones he's closest with, the australia connection bounding them close beyond means. when you get your head between her legs you find out she cums quicker than you did with jeongin, and it makes you feel a little better.

chan finally gets on the bed when you start making out with jisung. you sense they might have a connection, too, and it makes your pussy even wetter. she's messy when she kisses, spit and teeth and whining and wailing into your mouth. her jeans are baggy on her tiny waist and you can't help yourself from sliding your hands down them, tracing your fingers over her already soaking pussy, over her wiry pubic hair and making her keen. her hair is short, bobbed and wavy around her cute round cheeks and you feel a way you've never felt before - you want to ruin her. from the way minho is looking at you both, she wants to ruin her too.

chan has you with your back to his chest for hyunjin. it turns out hyunjin likes to take her time too, and you let her open you up with her fingers before she even gets her mouth on your clit. her hair is short and choppy, like lixie's, except dyed black and ever so soft between your fingers. hyunjin instructs chan to touch your nipples while she eats you out - it's the first time one of them has gotten chan involved, and it makes you hurtle towards your orgasm a lot quicker than you intended. her long legs splay out behind her as she buries her face in your folds, feet kicking in her cute frilly socks, moaning and groaning like you're the best thing she's ever tasted.

for changbin, you're just so fucking happy to be there. her tits are huge, nipples dark chocolate and puffy and she lets you suck on them, pulls you into a strong headlock with her bicep and moans nice and pretty for you when you swirl your tongue around her nipple like she's a damn lollipop. she wants to finger you open, wants you to finger her open, but she can't decide what she wants first - you end up splayed on top of her, her thick thighs parted and your head nuzzled into her dark, puffy folds. you sense she might be one that you want to come back to again and again, and you'll never get the image of her kissing chan to share the taste of your pussy with him out of your mind.

jisung's desperate again by the time it comes around to minho's turn. minho is fucking mean, you realise, and you're glad you left her until last. she seems to know exactly what toys to work you up with - a vibrator on your clit, a glass dildo in your pussy, a plug in your ass and all before she's even let you cum once. you fall apart on her strap, eventually, with jisung licking over your clit and making you squirt all over minho's thick thighs. she's a beauty, too - large tits settled on a toned chest, a light pink faded scar on her stomach that you'd love to ask about.

you quickly realise when you're fucking chan after and they're all watching that yeah, you want this to happen again. badly, actually.

#sooooooooooooooo #i'm sorry #i might #make a oneshot #o nthis #love you guys <3 #fem!skz #asks: ot8 #juno’s asks ♡ #user: alemi-i #stray kids smut

[recuira]

after hours

after hours : a live action buggy x fem!reader fanfiction

for some odd reason, you have no idea who he is. and he fucking loved that.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

chapter one chapter two chapter three chapter four

chapter five | fights. fondness. fury.

his pov;

I followed close behind Y/N, almost like a lost puppy. She led the way while I walked after her, holding numerous bags full of random vegetables, grains, and dairy products. I felt bad but Y/N insisted on using the money I lent her to pay for the groceries. I told her I'd be happy to cover this but she gave me a firm 'no' and told me that a dinner guest shouldn't have to pay for their meal. It was inhumane- improper, she said. I smiled. I loved how persistent she could be.

As we turned the corner, she reached deep into the pocket of her backpack and pulled out a rusted key. The sight of her home appeared in the distance. I've never been inside. I've only ever seen what it looked like from an outside perspective. I was thrilled to finally be a part of Y/N's personal life. I was always separate from this part but now, I was finally being let in.

Her home appeared closer within seconds which took me as a shock. She lived closer than I had originally realized. Clearing my throat, I scooped the bags into my arms, hugging them against my chest. I rested my chin atop the quart of milk and looked down at the girl as she struggled to jam the key inside the lock. "Anything I need to watch out for?" I asked, taking a step closer to her.

Shaking her head, she was finally able to unlock the door. "No, just be nice. Use manners."

"Do I not already?" I asked, taken aback.

"Use them more often."

I nodded my head, clenching my jaw.

Y/N looked up at me, somehow being able to sense how nervous I was. I gulped and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Relax, Buggers," She hummed as she nudged me with her elbow. A warm smile wafted over my face and I shrugged my shoulders back, listening to her simple yet helpful words of advice. "Just be yourself."

"I've never had anyone tell me that before."

"Why?"

Just before I could answer, the door was pushed open and Y/N's mother appeared, smiling at the both of us. I stayed still as my friend walked ahead of me, slipping her shoes off beside the open door. I remained frozen, wielding the bags of groceries close to me. Why was I so scared? Why was I not moving?

"Is he not going to come in?" Her mother whispered to Y/N.

"Buggy, come inside."

With those words, I snapped out of my horrified trance and listened to her, walking in. The door was shut behind me and I took a second to admire everything around me.

To the left of me was the kitchen. A small counter wrapped around, two barstools sitting underneath it. A bowl of fruit sat atop. The kitchen was tiny with two burners, one of which held a tea kettle. The refrigerator was marked with scratches and what seemed to be dents. I frowned. I wonder what happened.

To my right was a staircase leading upstairs, to what I'm presuming was Y/N's bedroom and an extra room now that her mother moved downstairs. In front of me was a large wooden table with two matching chairs and then past that, a couch lined with assorted blankets. Built into the stone wall was a fireplace that was burning brightly, the flames crackling. I'm glad she could have a furnace or some type of heat to keep her warm at night. Especially during these times, hypothermia was fairly common. I was thankful it wouldn't be an issue for her.

After examining my surroundings, my eyes trailed back to the lovely woman next to me who started to grab items from my arms. I apologized and set the rest of the bags on the countertop, helping both her and her mother to unload them.

"How much was all of this?" Her mother asked as she grabbed a bag of tomatoes, staring closely at them.

"Not much."

"Did he pay?" She met my gaze for a second then looked back down.

"No, I did."

"Why didn't he pay?"

"Mom-" Y/N nudged her mother's shoulder, shaking her head. "Don't say anything like that. It's rude."

She held her hands up in defense. "My apologies." Her eyes rolled.

I decided to let them be and ventured into the living room. I took a seat on the couch, resting my arm atop the back of it. I leaned back and admired the crackling flames. More bickering was heard from behind me and I cringed. Poor girl.

"Is he gonna help make dinner?" I heard her mother whisper after she questioned if my nose was real or not. I grimaced.

"You can ask him yourself! Talk to him. I'm going to go get changed. I'll be right back," Y/N announced. As I turned my head, I watched the young girl walk up the staircase. Her mother was staring at me, forcing a smile.

"Come help me."

I gave a firm nod, pressed my hands to my thighs, and pushed myself up and off of the couch. I headed into the kitchen and smiled down at her. "What can I help with?"

"Chop those tomatoes and the onions."

"Okay," I said with a smile. I grabbed a knife from the small rack and slipped my gloves off, stuffing them into the left pocket of my coat. I wielded the knife and started to slice the tomatoes. "Diced? Chopped?"

"Diced, please."

An uncomfortable silence fell and I raised my head in hopes of seeing Y/N walking down the stairs but she remained invisible. I gulped and turned my head to face her mother who was measuring a few cups of water. I cleared my throat. "Thank you for inviting me over for dinner."

"I've heard a lot about you. I wanted to see if you lived up to the expectations."

"What has been said?"

"Only good things."

I smiled. I'm glad Y/N thought so highly of me. "She's said good things about you, too."

Her mom let out a gutty chuckle. "Yeah! That's funny. She hates me."

"No, she doesn't. She loves you."

"She sure has a hefty way of showing it."

"What do you mean?"

"Ya know how kids are. Disrespectful, defiant. She's no different."

I frowned. "How is she disrespectful?"

"Talks illy of her father. A man who aspired to be more and she shames him for that. I'll never understand it."

I scooped the tomatoes into a small bowl and then started to chop the onions, constantly blinking so I wouldn't cry. The smell burned my nose and eyes. I wanted to give my opinion on the matter but due to my dinner invitation, I didn't deem it to be seen fit. I stayed quiet and listened to her complaints. When Y/N finally appeared, it felt like a breath of fresh air to see her angelic self walk down the stairway. I found myself to be entranced with her beauty.

She changed into a sundress, the fabric matching her eyes. I smiled at the sight, biting my bottom lip. I was so distracted by her goddess look that I didn't feel the blade of the knife cut into my finger. With my clouded mind, I was also unable to use my devil fruit ability to stop the blade from cutting me. As soon as I felt it, I jumped back and dropped the knife. My blood pooled on the white cutting board and I winced, grabbing a towel from the stove to wrap around my wound. Y/N noticed this and hurried towards me, frowning. "What happened?"

I blinked and shook my head. "I just cut my finger, that's all. I'm okay."

"You're not okay, you're bleeding."

"Yeah, but-"

"Follow me, come here." She led me over to the other side of the counter and sat me down on a barstool. She disappeared into a small closet before reappearing with a small wooden box. I held my finger, feeling a pulse beat through my hand. Her mom watched with a troubled expression. I ignored her look and turned to gaze up at Y/N who was finally taller than me. I smirked.

She dug through the box and pulled out a bandage.

"Thank you, nurse," I whispered while she wrapped the bandage around my finger after disinfecting it with alcohol. "It feels a lot better."

"Don't mention it,'' She said softly. "Be careful next time."

"No promises." I winked.

As she turned around, I noticed that the dress was sheer. I don't know if she realized that but I didn't want to sound like a pervert by telling her. But I felt like a pervert by not telling her. I chewed on my lower lip and looked down at my finger.

Part of me wished she kissed my finger, but I knew I was asking too much.

Rising from the seat, I resumed cutting vegetables while the girl set the table. She pulled a barstool over and slid it next to one of the chairs. I watched her momentarily before scooping the remaining sliced peppers and garlic into the small bowl. I carried it over to her mother. "Here you go."

"Thank you," She patted my hand and then started to sift them into the pot of chicken stock. I backed up and leaned back against the counter, folding my arms over my chest. "What should I call you? Y/N's mom?"

She laughed and shook her head. "Evelyn."

"Nice to meet you, Evelyn."

I caught Y/N looking over at me. I met her gaze and smiled as she mouthed a quick 'thank you'.

I whispered 'you're welcome' in return, winking at her.

-=-

her pov;

It was a nice sight to see my mother and Buggy getting along so far. My mother was a troubling woman. While I loved her, she always had ulterior motives. She never did anything out of the kindness of her own heart. So while watching her interact with my new friend, I tried my best to predict what would happen. But there were too many possibilities. Too many endless outcomes. All I could do was wait because if I asked her, I'd be chewed out instantly.

I reached into the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of red wine. Popping the cork out, I poured three glasses and set them next to each of the three plates. I wasn't going to drink but I knew my mother would. I looked up at Buggy. Was he going to? The extra glass was just for show. I was called numerous names by my mother for not drinking alcohol. I didn't want to hear any of it tonight. I wanted things to go perfectly- no, beyond perfect. Things needed to be overly perfect, if that was possible.

But as the night furthered, I realized that my hope was nothing more than a silly dream.

When dinner was finally being eaten, the three of us gathered around the table. Buggy sipped on his glass of wine while my mother downed hers and then grabbed mine. "You're not gonna drink it," She insisted as she took a swig. "She hates alcohol," She said as she looked at Buggy.

"I know." He swallowed and slid the glass away from him.

I slowly began to eat. It’s been so long since I’ve sat down with my mother and shared a meal. And even longer since she cooked. Most of the time we ate separately. The only time we shared together were with stupid arguments.

“How’s the food, Buggy?” My mother asked.

The clown smiled and nodded his head. “Very good.”

“Y/N?” She tilted her gaze toward me.

“Good, thank you.”

“So, Buggy, I heard you used to be a pirate. Tell me about that.”

“Uhm.” He dropped his fork and finished chewing before washing the food down with wine. He cleared his throat and sat up. “What would you like to know?”

“How much money did it make you?”

I rolled my eyes and dropped my head into my hand.

“Well, obviously you can imagine it was quite a lot. I was quite wealthy and fortunate but of course, it wasn’t the best way to make money. I regret it now but-“

“Are you still rich?”

“Mom, talk about something else-“ I interrupted before she interrupted me.

“Stop. I’m just making conversation.”

I sighed and grabbed the wine bottle from beside her. I poured myself a glass and hesitantly, I took a sip. I grimaced at the taste but forced it down. I could tell tonight wasn’t going to go smoothly.

“I do have a bit saved, yeah. But not nearly as much as I used to.” The pirate took another bite.

“How much do you have saved?” My mom dropped her fork and rested her chin on her hands.

“A couple million berries, give or take.”

“Is that going to my daughter when you get married?”

I gasped, laughing. “What kind of question is that?”

“It’s a simple question, is it not? If you two are going to get married, then you need my blessing.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Excuse me?”

“We’re not even dating, what makes you think we’re going to get married?” I scoffed, rolling my eyes as I took another bite of the meal. "What is with these questions? Is it only about money for you?"

"We have no money, Y/N. I've been telling you it's best to marry young and marry wealthy."

"Are you kidding me?"

-=-

his pov;

The tension was growing fast. And so was my discomfort.

When the idea of marriage came up, I felt hot.

It was a dream of mine but there was no way I was going to. At least not yet. Y/N looked so uncomfortable with the thought of it, as well. I wanted to interrupt and hopefully ease the situation but before I knew it, they both were yelling at each other.

I frowned, sinking into my seat.

But the thing that worried me the most was how much Y/N was drinking. When I first realized how many glasses she repeatedly poured herself, I grew concerned. Before I could reach over, grab her wrist, and tell her to stop, the argument got more heated. Both women were drunkenly yelling at one another, pointing out each other's flaws and dismays.

"You're nothing but disrespectful toward me, do you know that? Constantly talking back, saying you know what's best for me, shitting on your father who risked his life for us! You're horrible to me, Y/N. I try to be a good mother to you, and this is what I get in return. Blatant disrespect?" Evelyn spat as she pushed herself up from her seat at the table. She stormed into the kitchen and leaned down, sorting through the liquor cabinet. While she wasn't looking, I grabbed the girl's wrist and urged her to stop.

"Hey, don't fuel this. Let's just go. You can stay with me again tonight-" I tried to whisper but she ripped herself from my grip and followed after her mother in the kitchen, continuing to add fuel to the wildfire. Sighing, my head fell into my hands and I felt the urge to scream but I remained quiet, forcing myself to sit still. I wanted to defend Y/N, however, this wasn't my battle. She needed to conquer this on her own.

"He left us! How is he risking his life? He willingly ditched his family for some stupid, probably made-up treasure! Do you find it odd that he never wrote to you? Or me? He completely abandoned us! And you call him a hero," The girl's face went red with anger. She threw her hands up in the air to exaggerate her point. She then shook her head. "It's pathetic. I knew I shouldn't have invited Buggy over."

"What?"

"Do you know how horrible it is to ask someone for their money? Or to insinuate that you want it? He's a good friend of mine. I don't care about his money. I never asked for anything. He offered it to me out of the kindness of his heart."

"Are you ashamed of me?"

"Take a guess."

Slap!

Before I could process anything, Y/N was clutching her cheek, crying.

The escalation of this situation was beyond anything I could process. One moment we were getting along, sharing a nice meal, and now, Y/N was on the floor, crying as she cursed her mother, wishing her to be dead like her father.

Within seconds, both women left. Y/N ran to her bedroom and Evelyn left through the front door.

I sat alone at the table, clutching my thighs as I stayed completely still. I attempted to process what had just happened but I failed to do so.

Y/N had every right to despise her father. He left her when she was an infant for the One Piece, which sure, could simply be a huge hoax. A woman without a father is tragic. She needed a proper male role model in her life. However, due to her father's immature dreams, she was left alone. And Evelyn? While present, she was still very absent in her life. My heart ached for her. Someone so sweet and kind shed too many tears for people who could care less about her.

I didn't want to immediately run upstairs to her aid. She needed space, from what I understood.

I took a few minutes to clean up from dinner then I proceeded up the narrow staircase. I knocked on the door which consisted of a weeping woman behind it. A muffled 'come in' allowed my entrance.

I pushed the door open and closed it behind me.

The poor girl lay on her bed, clutching herself in a tight ball as she wept, her body shaking the bed. I approached her, kneeling on the bed. My hand found her back and I stroked it. I succeeded in ignoring the sheerness of her dress, my eyes locking on the back of her head.

"Are you alright?"

A stupid question, I know. She was crying. Of course, she wasn't okay. But I felt responsible to ask it.

She remained silent, the sounds of her sobs hurting both my heart and my ears. I wanted to be deaf. To hear someone as enchanting as her cry was worse than a life sentence.

"Do you want me to leave?"

With those words, she twisted her body and faced me. Her makeup streaked down her wet face. I gave her a sincere smile. She was still so pretty. I reached to grab her hurt cheek. I wiped her tears, making sure to be extremely gentle.

"I'll be quiet. Talk to me when you feel ready."

Her swollen eyes closed and she gave a half-nod.

I remained quiet, caressing her soft skin. I admired her, thanking God her eyes were closed so she wouldn't think my staring was creepy. A few loose strands of hair stuck to her teary face to which I wiped them away.

I let out a soft sigh and laid back, my head propped on a stuffed animal of a turtle. I smirked to myself. Her room was cozy. Her bed was soft and the sheets were silk. A window took up half of a wall which had translucent pink curtains hanging down from a pole. A lantern sat on her bedside table, a wooden dresser in front of us. If I were her, I'd never leave. I loved all of the pink decorations. It was cute.

I was about to check on her again but before I could, she sat up and crawled closer to me, her wet face burying into the crook where my neck and right shoulder met. I let out an inaudible gasp, a shiver running down my spine as I could feel her hot breath against my skin. My arm swept underneath her and I pulled her closer to me, my hand rubbing her back. I slipped my hand below the hem of her dress so I could rub her bare back. She didn't protest. I smiled.

Her hand found my chest as she clutched my striped vest. I spread my legs to get comfortable. Her own wrapped around my waist. I was shocked with how close and personal she was becoming but did I mind? Not. One. Bit.

My free hand caressed her soft hair, combing my fingers through it. The sweet scent of her strong shampoo floated past my nose. Coconut and vanilla.

I opened my mouth, moments from speaking but before I had the opportunity to, a kiss was placed against my neck. My eyes widened and I pushed her off of me. Her tired eyes met mine for a moment. I looked at her, confused. But she smiled at me and leaned back in, this time placing a kiss against my lips. When she pulled back, a soft red tint rested on her mouth. "What?" She whispered, her eyes trailing to admire my mouth.

"What are you doing?"

"I don't know," She murmured and kissed me again. She repeated this, each kiss longer and more passionate than the previous one. My hands now remained glued at my sides. I was scared to use them, not knowing what I planned on doing with them. But when her hand grabbed my own and she brought my injured finger up to her soft, plump lips, I swallowed, feeling my body heat up. She kissed my finger, humming. "I wanted to do this earlier, but…"

"Y/N, what's going on?"

"Hm? Nothing," She murmured and kissed me again. She guided my hand up to grab at her chest. She gripped my hand upon her right breast then dropped her hand. "I'm not doing anything," She repeated.

My body only continued to grow hot.

What was she doing? Why was she doing this?

She wasn't the type of girl to just sleep around. She had respect for herself, which I heavily admired. So why was she doing this?

Her kisses grew more frequent and before I knew it, she was completely on top of me. Her thighs straddled my hips as she forced me back against the bed. I pulled the stuffed turtle out from beneath my heart and tossed it somewhere across the room. I moaned into her mouth as she kissed me harder, this time with her tongue.

I shivered, my hand stuck on her breast, delicately scrunching my fingers. She wasn't wearing a bra.

My breath hitched as my finger grazed over her nipple. She whined at this, a sound that was a symphony to my ears.

"Buggy," She moaned against my mouth. "Take my dress off."

And that's when it hit me.

This wasn't her.

This wasn't Y/N.

As much as I've been craving this since the moment my eyes landed on a goddess like herself, I couldn't do it. Not when she was drunk and an emotional wreck.

"I can't," I whispered against her mouth, my hand dropping from her breast. Her hovering mouth pulled away and she gave me a skeptical look, her eyebrows furrowing together. I frowned. I could tell she was upset. "I'm sorry."

"What do you mean 'you can't'?" Y/N asked, clearly offended and taken aback. She looked down at the erection beneath my pants. She giggled, "You clearly can. And want to."

"Do you?"

"What?" She laughed, her eyes rolling. "I insinuated this, no?"

"You're drunk," I said flatly. "I don't want to do this. I feel like I'm taking advantage of you." I grabbed a pillow from behind me and used it to cover my hips. "I want to do this when you're sober. Not when you're intoxicated and upset."

She scoffed. "Are you kidding me?"

"I don't want to upset you-"

"Well, you have." The girl crawled off of me and her arms folded over her chest. Her lips were stained red from my own. Normally, I would find the sight to be riveting but now, I was ashamed that I let it travel this far. "I want you to leave," She whispered.

"Y/N, come on, I don't want you to end up regretting this."

"No, you're right. I would end up regretting this."

I frowned. "Can we just talk tomorrow? About all of this?" I reached to take her hand in mine but she declined the offer by slapping it away.

"I want you to go."

"But-"

"I thought you liked me. I felt like we had a connection. I understood you, you understood me. And when I finally get the courage to show you how I feel, you just push me away," Her lower lip quivered as her eyes watered with tears.

"I do like you. I always have. I just want you to be sober, to be confident in what you're doing."

"And what makes you think I'm not sober?"

"You're slurring your words and your breath smells of alcohol," I admitted.

"Whatever," Y/N mumbled as she crawled off of the bed and stood on her feet. "I just wanted to give this night a good end. But my fault, I guess. I read into things too much."

I stayed quiet. I knew she didn't mean what she was saying.

"You're horrible, ya know that? You give me so many mixed signals by calling me cute, buying me things, and spoiling me with money. What do you want from me? I throw myself onto you and you push me away? What is wrong with you?"

"I'm going to go."

"Good! Go! The quicker, the better. I was sick of looking at you anyway." Her words cut deeper than any knife or blade ever could. But I knew she didn't mean any of it. It was the alcohol. I knew how she felt when her mother pulled this stunt with her. It wasn't a good feeling.

"Have a good night, Y/N." I smiled as I climbed off of the bed. I approached her despite her discomfort and pressed a kiss against her forehead. I then backed away, approaching the door. Part of me hoped she would beg me to stay but she remained quiet. Just as I left her bedroom, the door behind me slammed shut. While I was unhappy with her reaction, I was satisfied with the outcome. I'd much rather her despise me than take advantage of her when she was drunk by having sex with her. I knew she would regret it. She wasn't the type of girl to drink, let alone have sex with a guy while doing so.

As I walked downstairs, I realized she might forget about this in the morning. Or she wouldn't. I just didn't want her to hate me because of this. I was only looking out for her best interest.

I left her home and adjusted my coat, closing the door behind me. Evelyn leaned against the outside of the house, her foot propped up with a lit cigarette in her right hand. She looked at me and smiled. "Trouble in paradise?" She chuckled, taking a puff.

I adjusted the sleeves of my coat and looked over my shoulder. If it weren't for her, none of this would've happened. I developed a new hatred for Y/N's mother. "If I give her any more of what I have, I'm making sure you get jackshit," I snapped.

"We'll see about that. Like mother, like daughter."

"She is nothing like you."

"You're a no-good pirate. I see that. I just need her to realize that."

I rolled my eyes and scoffed. I reached over, grabbed the cigarette from her lips, and threw it on the ground. I squished it below my foot and then stepped forward. "The first step to conquering addiction is admitting you have one."

"Go home, clown."

It took everything in me not to say my true feelings to her, but that was Y/N's mother. I wasn't going to insult her mom.

It was best to leave before things escalated further.

I had such high hopes for tonight but alas, nothing was made a reality. As I started down the street, I wondered if I made a mistake by not continuing further with Y/N. I wanted to, I really did. I wanted nothing more than to share a moment of intimacy with her. But the red wine clouded her judgment. She had a huge fight with her mother. Evelyn even hit her. There was no way she was thinking clearly.

And if our relationship is affected because of this, then so be it.

I'd rather that than take something precious from her.

Than to corrupt someone as pure as she.

#buggy the clown #buggy the genius jester #buggy x reader #captain buggy #buggy smut #op buggy #one piece live action #buggy one piece #buggy #x reader #buggy the flashy fool #buggy x y/n #buggy x you #one piece buggy #opla buggy

[raisedbythetv89]

The writers I think mostly completely by accident with the assistance of James charming his way into becoming a main character created the perfect storm to ensure people who love spike would reach absolute peak levels of being completely obsessively deranged about him forever

Season 2:

He’s a punk rock villain with killer cheekbones, enchanting eyes, and an absolutely DEVILISH smile - who’s an incredibly dedicated and dangerous fighter who specifically seeks out challenging fights he’s not guaranteed to win (brave and reckless - normally traits seen in heroes) hates everyone except his mentally ill physically sick wife (the statistics of men who leave their wives when they get sick in the US is horrifying like nurses literally have to warn married women who get sick it happens so often) who he’s hopelessly devoted to and unbelievably soft with and always listens to her while also exuding a psychotic amount of sex appeal and is just F U N he loves being a vampire and he loves fighting and it makes it so much fun for the audience. While still showing how much he respects and admires his enemy for her skill, strength, resourcefulness, and intelligence - NEVER underestimating her just because she’s a tiny blonde girl - and instead of destroying the world for love he SAVES the world for love - a villain doing good to get the love of his life back who essentially dumped him for her ex????????? D E V O T E D and shockingly extremely trustworthy??? And has amazing chemistry with our heroine and is there for a pivotal moment in her life and is the only one there for her when she has no one else????? *enemies to lovers girlies ENTER THE CHAT*

Season 3:

He shows he fucking MEANS IT when he says Dru is the love of his life when he shows up in Sunnydale because he blames Angel not Buffy or Drusilla but the man actually responsible for all their problems and he is the most pathetic mess we’ve ever SEEN!!!! He’s crying and drunk all the time and he’s so sad he goes to Buffy’s mom TO TALK 💀😭 our pathetic sensitive little self admitted lover boy who KNOWS he’s love’s bitch and he won’t be pretending he’s anything otherwise who shows how clearly he sees and understands other people and the depths of his emotional intelligence so much so Buffy herself admits she can’t fool Spike she can fool her friends BUT NOT SPIKE OR HERSELF EXCUSE ME MA’AM WHAT???????

AND Spike doesn’t just uselessly MOPE forever he gets some perspective and is like I know what I’m gonna do to her back and I’m gonna go do that now! 😁👍🏻 showing he never stays down for long and is always gonna get back up to keep fighting for his love while BOTH he and Buffy still honor the truce even though he’s broken it by coming back??? While Buffy’s all “I violently dislike you” YEAH OK GIRL WHATEVER YOU SAY *enemies to lovers girlies chomping at the bit intensifies*

Season 4:

CLEARLY heartbroken about Drusilla (DEVOTED!!!) but it’s turned into anger and resentment directed at Harmony who how bizarre looks nothing like Drusilla but A LOT like Buffy…… hmmmmmmmmmmmmm HOW INTERESTING *enemies to lovers girlies are vibrating with anticipation that turns into a full blown combustion when something blue happens*

Spike doesn’t pretend to love Harmony in order to get what he wants from her (shown in direct contrast to Parker) he’s ironically very honest despite being a villain - he’s showing he’s STILL loyal to Drusilla in ONLY loving her even after she’s dumped him... again!

We see Spike treat Buffy the EXACT same way he treated Drusilla during something blue reaffirming THIS IS HOW THIS MAN LOVES WHEN HE LOVES YOU. He’s extremely affectionate, helpful, protective, caring - D E V O T E D - and is truly just the most certified lover boy we’ve ever fucking seen

Season 5:

SURPRISE HE’S SECRETLY A LOVESICK MAMA’S BOY POET AT HEART UNDERNEATH THE BAD BOY PERSONA AND A PROTECTIVE BIG BROTHER AND NOW BUFFY AND HER FAMILY’S MOST LOYAL DEFENDER AND IS WILLING TO DIE NOT JUST FOR BUFFY BUT FOR ALL THE SUMMERS WOMEN AND HE KNOWS AND SEES BUFFY SO DEEPLY AND INTIMATELY AND CAN HOLD SPACE FOR HER PAIN LIKE NO ON ELSE CAN AND SHOWS THE DEVOTION THAT ONCE BELONGED TO DRUSILLA NOW BELONGS TO BUFFY AND IT IS GOING NOWHERE EVEN WHEN SHE DIES AND WE'VE SEEN IN HIM CRY BEFORE BUT NEVER HAVE WE SEEN HIM BREAK DOWN LIKE HE DOES AT THE SIGHT OF BUFFY'S BODY!!!!!!!!!!!

*all of us screaming, crying, throwing up, climbing the walls and generally just losing our minds*

Season 6:

No soul, his love is so great for Buffy as is his loyalty and devotion to her, he now helps all of his dead love’s friends fight evil and is raising her sister and dreams of saving her every night for 148 nights 🤚🏻😭 don’t even fucking talk to me I can’t take it

Forgive the absolute 180 in tone change here:

Dick game is FIRE - his touch is the only thing that makes Buffy feel alive AND SHE WAS IN HEAVEN BRO SHE KNOWS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO BE IN HEAVEN AND SPIKE IS THE ONLY THING KEEPING HER GOING like damn girl yes YOU FUCK THAT HOUSE DOWN!!! Also he is now just naked 50% of the time just to drive us all even FURTHER out of our minds and somehow has just gotten even hotter as the seasons have gone on like this is what’s been hiding under the leather jacket all this time! Enjoy!

And THE MOST unintended consequence of jw’s vindictive writing:

SPITE

He clearly didn’t want us to love Spike and tried to manipulate us into hating him in such a blatant and clumsy ooc attempt all that did was weed out the weakest amongst the Spuffy/Spike fans until all that remained were us:

The most devoted and stubborn fans who REFUSED to have the thing they loved ruined or taken away from us and were smart enough to see through his bullshit manipulation attempt in the first place.

Genuinely they created the equivalent of supersoilder strength level fans with this absolutely lethal combination of events 💀

AND THEN as if all that wasn't enough he goes and gets his soul on purpose for Buffy so he can be the man she deserves and she can love him without hating herself for loving him despite the immense pain it will cause him which is the most selfless thing we have ever seen anyone do for Buffy only to be topped when he sacrifices himself to destroy the hellmouth, save the world and free her from Sunnydale!!! Plus ya know once he gets the soul even though he did it for her he never tries to use that as leverage to get anything from her like he truly expects nothing from her at all but still wants to help her and James delivers the most devastating performances we've ever fucking seen, finally tells her friends off which has needed to happen for 5 seasons, the "you're the one speech" him being a dad to all the potentials with Buffy giving us supernatural parent core who made it through their rough patch with their first kid in season 6 with Dawn and now are just the beautiful team with their found family and Buffy finally has someone who can truly carry her burdens with her and just all the tenderness and devotion they both deserve after so many years of pain and fighting. Basically giving the audience the message that even if you have a metric ton of pain and trauma there are people out there who see you and understand you and there is a chance for you to heal both together and separately to build your own version of a more normal and stable life. It's a message of such hope and I personally know several people, including myself who watched what Spike and Buffy have and it inspired us to look at the relationships we were in and realize we deserved SO MUCH MORE than what we were getting and in my case it turned out I was being emotionally abused and manipulated that entire time!! Much like Buffy was by both Riley and Angel. So it isn't an exaggeration to say Spuffy saved my life in a lot of ways both in being there for me at such a dark time and helping me draw a map of how to get out. Not to mention loving them in fandom spaces has helped me connect with so many people just like me who share very similar experiences and have helped me feel so much less alone and has helped me heal in so many ways 🖤

Spuffies get "hOw cAn yOu liKe sPiKe aFtEr wHaT hE dId" all the fucking time and truly the better question is how can you NOT like Spike???? HAVE YOU BEEN PAYING ATTENTION AT ALL??? DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT GOOD RELATIONSHIPS NEED TO WORK?? BECAUSE AT THEIR CORE SPUFFY HAS THEM ALL!

It's jw writing so NOTHING will escape his toxic bullshit but Spike - because he was hated by jw for so long - so much of the time when he tried to make Spike less popular he just kept making him better and more complex and more and more targeted to the female gaze which is exactly why he snapped and made the choices he literally forced everyone else to go along with despite their protests with that scene to make it the most traumatizing scene in all of Buffy history not just for the audience but for the actors as well because yes it is incredibly horrific and upsetting to watch (which is why I skip it on rewatches) but I still am able to see if for what it is which is a narcissist lashing out at people he hates because he hasn't been able to control them and too bad for him I refuse to be manipulated by his bullshit so it failed completely and made so many of us that much more stubbornly protective of Spike and his and Buffy's relationship not just from other fans but from the creator himself 🙃🖕🏻like he basically just trauma bonded us to Spike and Buffy which has led to the creation of one of the most devoted, loyal, intelligent fanbases who is absolutely unhinged (affectionate) with their love of this character and his relationship which is why we are all still creating and writing about this character 25 year later and show absolutely zero signs of slowing down or stopping 💀

#spuffy #spike btvs #meta #btvs meta #spike and buffy meta #spike btvs meta #spuffy meta #also every spuffy I know shares so much life experiences and personality traits with buffy herself like we are often making choices #and judgements about the narrative from the perspective of buffy herself & we’re all picking spike #so many people who pick other love interests truly so often rarely see buffy for who she is either #if you don’t get spuffy you don’t truly understand buffy herself

[hotchs-big-hands]

dbf!hotch gifts reader a nannycam for their room. Fun ensues. Send tweet.

(basically reader being a camgirl but for hotchy’s eyes only) 😩

Okay okay I have to get this out FIRST like you don't understand this makes me fucking BARK ROME your mind is literally stunning babe OKAY LETS GO

Dbf!Aaron Hotchner x gn!reader

NSFW minors dni please!

Warning(s): consensual voyeurism, daddy kink, masturbation, just smut LMAO it's so filthy!! Also changes to Aaron's perspective after first break.

Should probably note idk exactly how nannycams work I just did some reading up and I'm sort of basing off that. Anyway, ENJOY!

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

There it sat on the pristine dining table of your father's friend. A small, black cube no bigger than a dice awaited your response to its presence. Your eyes flicked to the man who had just placed it in front of you with a smirk, and you bit your lip.

"This is..."

Aaron raised a brow, the smirk growing.

"A little camera for you to place in your bedroom. Do you like it, sweetheart?" He said gently. A shiver ran down your spine as your eyes returned to the tiny nannycam.

"Holy shit..." You felt heat rising in your face and burning in your abdomen. "I do, yes. Thank you, Aaron."

Aaron cupped the back of your head with his hand and leaned over to press a kiss to your forehead.

"This, pretty thing, is so I can check in on you when I'm away with work. You understand, right?"

He was close to your face, his eyes focusing on your bitten lip. You moved to straddle his hips and his hands were immediately on your thighs, squeezing them possessively. A little hum reverberated from you as you nodded at him and you placed your hands on his firm chest to help balance yourself as you shifted around on his lap.

"Mmh... come by mine later so you can help me set it up?" You asked sweetly, batting your eyelids innocently at him. He chuckled and the hands slid round to your ass and firmly gripped onto the flesh there.

"Of course, sweetheart. Gotta make sure it's working, after all."

Yes, much later in the day did you both finally make it to your home and set up the little camera on a shelf attached to the wall, cushioned between some ornaments. And the rest of the evening was spent "testing" the angle of the camera out with a feed linked to Aaron's phone. When you eventually collapsed against the pillows together, entangled and breathing heavily, your mind wandered to the possibilities you had to have a bit of fun whilst your lover was away. A tired, but excited smile pulled at your face as you snuggled into his bare chest and you drifted off to sleep.

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

Three days had passed by after Aaron gifted you the little camera, and in that time he had, of course, been pulled away on a case. He hadn't yet had a spare moment to check in with you to ask if you were okay with him watching (he had made it clear that he wouldn't look unless you specifically said it was okay to do so) and admittedly, he was a little frustrated as a result. But work called, he had to focus on the current case instead. However, all was about to change with a simple text from you.

---

Sweetheart❤: How's everything going? xx

---

Aaron raised a brow as he stared at the text. You didn't normally contact him whilst he was working. He stepped away from the rest of his team for a moment to respond.

---

Me: As well as the average case goes. Are you alright? X

Sweetheart❤️: I'm heading to bed now, but I'm not very sleepy...

---

He felt himself tense a little, swallowing as he felt himself twitch in his slacks. He eyed his surroundings before he began to type.

---

Me: Sweet thing, you've got to try and get some rest, yeah? X

---

Moments later a photo came through from you, Aaron's breath hitched at the compromising position you were in, biting your lip and looking at the camera seductively.

---

Sweetheart❤️: Guess you'd better check your footage later then 😇

---

He quickly moved to press his back against a wall and typed furiously, slacks tightening.

---

Me: You really think you can just tease daddy like this and not be punished when I return?

Sweetheart❤️: Gn, daddy 🥰 xx

---

Aaron groaned quietly and pocketed his phone, glancing down at his crotch and willing the slight bulge to disappear. You were in so much trouble when he finally returned home, but he had to admit he was eager to return to his hotel room that night to see what you'd been up to. With a sharp exhale out of his nose he slowly returned to the room to continue working on the case.

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

Driving at the speed limit couldn't have been harder for Aaron than right now, desperate to make it back to the hotel and lock himself in his room. He knew the others could tell he was extremely tense and chalking it up to the difficult case, which admittedly, he was stressed out about, but he hadn't been able to keep you or the implications of your earlier messages out of his mind for the rest of the day.

So when he finally pulled into the hotel parking lot with Spencer and Derek in the car with him, he couldn't slam his door fast enough nor rush off into the hotel. He even took the stairs, two steps at a time, so he could get there quicker than waiting for an elevator. Finally. With his door locked his jacket and tie were quickly removed and his shoes toed off at the door, he crossed the room to the bed and he settled down on the edge of it and pulled his phone out.

He was eager, almost embarrassingly so but he didn't care. His thumb hovered over the app that was linked to the nannycam; his slacks were uncomfortably tight already. With a quiet exhale, he unbuckled his belt to give himself a brief sense of relief, then he clicked the app icon.

He remembered the estimated time you'd messaged him, scrolling through the footage from within the 12 hours of the day in the timezone you were in. Most of it was blank, obviously you'd been out for the day, but he slowed down the progress when your figure appeared, entering and leaving the room as you went about your evening. He smiled slightly in complete adoration of you, there was something so serene about watching you going about your time, a part of him secretly wishing he could witness all of it someday.

His thoughts were brought to a halt when you entered your bedroom dressed in a fluffy towel, having just returned from a shower. He shifted on the bed, settling back further as his eyes stared at the screen. At first, your back was to the camera when you unwound the towel from your body. Aaron narrowed his eyes slightly, wishing you would turn around. Then you did. Casually, you began drying your body off, dragging the fabric down your arms and across your neck. You paused, a little smile spread across your face and you moved the towel slower down your body.

His eyes followed the movement of your hand on the fabric, drifting down your chest and lingering. A deliberate, light brush against your nipples, then slowly drifting lower down your body. Tauntingly, you covered your crotch and Aaron groaned, holding his phone in his right hand whilst his left slid down to squeeze the growing bulge in his dress pants. You knew how he felt about you teasing him given you'd been punished for it already recently, brought to a point of begging him through tears to let you cum, to feel his cock inside you. Just the memory of it only made him strain against the fabric of his trousers more, so he unbuttoned them and slowly pulled the zipper down, a quiet grunt escaping him at the release in tension. His hand slipped inside, palming his cock over his boxers.

In the footage, you'd turned from the camera again and bent over to dry your legs, giving him a full view of your ass to him.

"Nngh, fuck." Aaron hissed, squeezing himself tighter. You walked out of frame, seemingly to hang the towel up to dry, but when you returned to the frame you were still in all your naked glory and there was no indication of that changing anytime soon. His eyes widened when you pulled open your bedside drawer and from it you took out one of his button down shirts, but his brow raised when you also picked up a small bottle, one that he knew very well.

"Oh, you naughty thing..." He whispered as you spritzed his cologne he thought he had misplaced a few weeks ago over the shirt he must have left behind at some point. You placed the bottle back into the drawer and held the shirt to your nose, climbing onto the bed to kneel, eyes closed as you inhaled deeply. Aaron groaned again quietly. He didn't know you did this, he would have to ask you if you did it all the time. It made him feel good to be so desired as this, he never expected anyone to want him as much as you clearly did. His cock was painfully hard now, and he pulled it from the top of his underwear with a hiss. The rosy red tip was already glistening with precum, he smeared it with his thumb and dragged it down the impressive shaft with a deep exhale.

Holding onto the shirt, you slowly pulled it down your body, rolling your hips as you brushed across your nipples again. And then, to Aaron's utter surprise, you moved the shirt down to your crotch and began to grind into it. He shuddered, cock twitching in his hand at the scene. You moved to the end of the bed, shirt still rubbing against your crotch, and knelt down, head against the bed with your ass angled towards the camera's general direction. Aaron swore under his breath as he began to slide his hand up and down his cock, squeezing his tip and using the precum that continued to leak out to lube himself. You were laying on top of the shirt, hand between your spread thighs as you touched yourself. Oh, how he wished he could hear your sounds right now.

He could imagine himself touching you in this position, teasing you as he rubbed his cock against your entrance. He wanted you to always have your face shoved against one of his shirts from now on, picturing you biting into it with every caress of his fingers or cock.

Your hips swayed and shuddered forward, your hand moving faster as you masturbated. Aaron moved his hand faster on his cock, thrusting up into his hand eagerly in time with your movements. He could tell you were close in the video, body shaking and back arching, it brought him closer to cumming as well. His chest heaved as he moaned, hips bucking when he watched you finally cum hard, staining his shirt no doubt, and pushing yourself until you collapsed, boneless. Not a moment sooner, Aaron groaned deeply as his cock shot rope, after rope of cum onto his hand and clothed chest. Slightly shaky, he quickly snapped a photo from his torso downward, hand still gripping his sensitive cock, and sent it to you.

---

Me: Sweetheart, look what you've done to me. I'll be having a word with you about taking my cologne...

---

Once the text was sent, Aaron let the phone drop onto the mattress beside him and groaned. His cock twitched in his hand, still aroused. He grimaced, knowing he needed to take a shower and shove his soiled clothes in the bottom of his bag. And so sluggishly, he forced himself to stand and make his way to the shower room.

When the new morning would come round, you'd wake up to more than just a picture.

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

AWOOGA OKAY thank you so so so much for reading !! I hope this was kinda what you were thinking of babes, but I could defo expand on this in future tho should the demand be there 👀

Taglist: @cr1minalskies @modern-mermaid @aaronhotchnersgirlfriend @aaronhotchswife @crimeshowjunkie @igotanidea @gogococopuffs @prentissesredtanktop @howabouticallyou @lalalove-56 @constantwritingblock @boredelle @powerlvr25 @idkbubs @mrs-ssa-hotch @emptybagofchips77 @yourmomsmilfmistress @jesuisbenny @nplumb22 @supercriminalbean @elijahmikaelsonbitch @wowzabowza69 @frostingway @simpingfortoomanypeople @munsonsposts @spenciesprincess @creepysweetie @bruhhvv @regulus-black-223048 @brasspistol @0nex-is-dead0 @livingdeadmak @myescapefromthislife @sebastiansstanswhore @bumblebea-xo @hangmandruigandmav @sareim123122 @magical-spit

#beloved rome #a answers #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x gn!reader #aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader #aaron hotchner x reader smut #hotch smut #aaron hotch smut #smut #nsfw.

[ohforficsakelibrary]

Barbados

Summary: You've been carrying on with whatever this is for months, pushing and pulling, until one night Frankie wants control.

masterlist

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2K

Rating: Explicit 18+ for smut/ Unprotected piv, edging, multiple orgasms (f), creampie, a hint of dom!Frankie, a dash of brat-tamer!Frankie, still a Consent King, a pinch of blasphemy, y'all are gonna get a noise complaint / Minors DNI

A/N: As with Dominica, this is written about these two idiots, but flipped to the reader's perspective. Can be read as a standalone, only a few tiny, non-critical nods to the series.

Happy Frankie Friday to all those who celebrate.

Eight months into whatever this is, Frankie pulls noises from your throat that you’ve never made in your life.

And to think, you had fought him on it.

You’d been working each other up all evening, spiking heated glances over the dinner table as you listened to Pope go on about something. 

Can’t remember what. 

You’d both unceremoniously deposited Santi in his room next door, each smacking your key cards against the reader so quickly that it took three tries to unlock as Frankie groaned into your mouth and you pawed at his belt. This room was one of yours.

Can’t remember whose. 

It doesn’t matter, one key eventually worked. 

In your haste to have each other after a month apart you’d skipped his mouth, and his fingers, and everything you would have demanded if you’d had more sense.

Sense. The thing he simultaneously robs you of and delivers in spades to every starving nerve ending.

The two of you hadn’t even made it to the bed. 

Frankie’s behind you on the couch, your upper body draped over the armrest as he works his way inside you.

“Mmfh, hold on, wait, wait, wait,” your hand finds his where it’s wrapped around your hip and immediately he stills as you hiss through clenched teeth.

“Shit. Baby, talk to me.”

“Just. A little sharp.”

“No, I should have…” he makes a move to pull out completely.

Your hand flies back to his hip, “Francisco Morales, don’t you dare.”

“Baby, just let me taste you,” he barely has the tip of his cock inside you now as he cranes to drop kisses along your spine, “get you all warm and ready for me. ”

“I’m fucking ready for you now.”

Stubborn as a moose is not the saying, but Frankie reckons it should be.

“Baby, please, I’m not doing this if it hurts.” 

He’s mad at himself, more than anything. Frankie doesn’t fuck around with this. He knows what he is. 

He’s normally so methodical. He has his procedures. His checklist. You blew right through it and in his haze of want—he let you.

You’re doing it even now as your nails bite into his hip when he makes a move to pull away.

“Baby…” he urges again.

“No.”

Talons of irritation tug at the back of his scalp.

And he gives in to them.

“You know what, fine,” he growls, hands leaving you completely as something shifts, “you do it then.”

You move to bring one of his warm palms back to your skin but he snatches it away.

“No. That’s all you. You wanna take me? Take me. Go ahead.”

Oh. 

A Frankie Mood.

He hasn’t had you in a month and already they’ve returned with a vengeance. 

You throw him a look over your shoulder, half expecting to see his arms crossed over his chest. One hand’s braced on the back of the sofa, and you can feel the heat from the other where it hovers over your hip. 

His bottom lip is trapped between teeth.

Okay, Frankie.

You prop yourself up off the arm of the sofa with one hand, reaching down with the other to guide the tip of his cock against your entrance, gently shifting your hips and rocking back onto his hard length at your own pace, moaning as you do. 

A pace you’ve slowed way down for his torture benefit.

It smarts a little less and you take a little more.

But this stopped being about that a few inches ago.

You can hear Frankie sucking sharp breaths in through his nose. The back of the sofa creaks with the white-knuckled pressure he’s subjecting it to. 

While his words are bold, his body’s barely held together.

But he’s composed enough not to give you the satisfaction of the moan that’s bursting at the back of his throat.

“God, Frankie,” you breathe when the curve of your ass meets his stomach.

He barks a dark laugh.

“Oh, I thought you could take this whole thing,” he leans to cover you with his body, nose skimming the shell of your ear.

“I’ve still got two more inches here for you, babe,” he continues to taunt just before he bites down on your earlobe, soothing it with his tongue.

“What are you gonna do about that?”

You have half a mind to flip him off of this couch and onto the floor.

Instead you drop your chest back down to the arm of the sofa, tip your hips forward, and squeeze around him.

It makes him give you the last two himself.

It hadn’t taken long for you to discover how to short his brain and send his hips slamming into yours in search of more.

“Ohh, you little…” he’s growling but you can feel the smile against your ear. 

He loves this.

The push and pull.

You guide his hand to your clit, where he immediately starts rubbing slow circles with his middle and ring fingers.

He’s gonna drag this out.

You tip your face to meet his mouth, sucking on his bottom lip before he gives you his tongue. 

“You okay?” He whispers softly when you break for air.

“Yeah, baby.” 

Frankie drops a kiss in your hair before he bucks his hips against you without pulling out.

“Fuck,” you gasp.

“Mmmm,” he rumbles, sitting up and holding your hips with both hands. He gives you a few tentative strokes, slowly, palms mapping the contours of your back until you take it upon yourself to push against him. 

“You’re so fuckin’ impatient, aren’t you,” his hips don’t falter from their lazy pace as one hand grabs the back of your neck. “So fucking greedy for me. For this cock.”

You clench down around him to make your point, smiling when he groans, his hips stuttering.

“You know what?” He brings his face to your ear, “let me have it, baby.”

Control. 

Let him have control.

He can’t see the way you arch an eyebrow in challenge, but he knows it’s there on your face.

“Fine,” you whisper and cant your hips back against him. 

“Need a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ gatita.”

“Yes. Frankie.” It’s sour in your mouth as you say it. But you trust him. Trust that he’ll take care of you. That he’ll work you up and over and through until “yes Frankie” is all that you can scream.

You trust that he’ll take you past the point of words.

And so “yes Frankie” it is.

He rewards you by picking his pace up to something you luxuriate in, humming with approval as warmth builds low in your belly. You instinctively reach down between your legs and Frankie immediately pulls your hand away.

“That’s mine,” he growls, “and I’m not ready for it yet.”

You bury your face into the armrest and moan in petulant protest.

The hand on the back of your neck soothes, rubbing down over your shoulder blades. He follows the motion with his mouth and you arch up into him. 

You can feel his eyes on you, reading your body in the absence of your face. He slows his pace when your breath goes shallow and waits for it to deepen again before building you back up. 

When your fingers dig into the armrest, he nearly stops, holding you in place by the hips, grinding his pelvis against you. He leans forward to drop kisses at the base of your neck and scrapes the scruff on his chin down your spine, the prickle of it giving you another sensation to latch on to. After a few moments, he skates a massive palm over your skin to wipe the feeling away, hooking it over your shoulder and yanking you backwards faster against him.

The next time he pulls you back from the brink it’s with a hand in your hair and teeth in the curve of your shoulder.

He unwinds you like rope, pulling at each cord, twisting until it frays, until all that’s left is you pleading and panting in front of him.

By the fourth time you’re telling him to go fuck himself, and he’s purring in your ear that no you feel much better between thrusts that drag the crown of his cock over every spot inside you with the capacity to light you up, he’s just doing it too slowly to cause a spark.

“Frankie, I swear to God…” 

“You can swear all you want, gatita, God isn’t here. Just me.”

And oh but He is, in the searing palms that hold you firm, the thick, clever fingers that finally slip down to where he fills you to rub tight circles against where he knows you need him most. 

In the way your ears ring when he speeds his hips and his hands up—and finally allows you to break. 

A gasp, a captured breath, and a cry when you exhale again.

Except now, he doesn’t stop.

“Frankie, fuck, Frankie, Frankie, Fr…Fran…FranKIE,” discretion abandoned in favor of open-mouthed pleasure. His pace is brutal and you don’t care who knows that he handles you with a pilot’s precision, one hand encouraging the arch in your back, pulling where it’s wound in your hair, fingers of the other working faster over your clit.

You’re keening as you claw at fabric and bury your face in the armrest, Frankie never letting up as your walls clamp down around him again. 

He grits his teeth through your torture, grunting as he continues. 

He continues until you’re laughing deliriously. 

Until you’re growling.

Whining.

Sobbing.

Jesus, Catfish. Don’t kill her. Frankie’s phone buzzes with a text from Santiago. 

Neither of you notice.

You’ve angled your hips to take all of him, hair in your face, death-grip on the armrest because it’s the only thing keeping you here.

He cracks you one last time, has you crying and moaning and screaming for him in the seconds before he holds you fast, deafening you with the guttural scream that rips from his chest as he pumps you full of him, stuttering hips fucking hot spend into you as desperate cries escape his throat.

His teeth sink into your shoulder and his weight becomes yours to bear when he finally quiets and collapses, sucking open-mouthed kisses into your sweat-damp neck between gasps for air.

You stay a moment like this.

Feeling his lungs fill at your back. 

Feeling his heart hammer against your spine.

He finds himself enough to take his weight, but your hand grips his hair before he can move much further.

“The couch,” you pant a warning and he catches your logic in his hormone-addled brain, wrapping an arm around your waist and rolling you with him down to the hardwood floor.

His body breaks your fall.

Broad palms roam your stomach, up over your breasts and down again, hot, ragged breath rasping over the shell of your ear and catching in your curls.

He guides your hips up enough to allow him to pull out with a groan before he encourages you over, one hand immediately flying to the base of your skull to bring your mouth to his. 

You can feel the warm rush of him between your thighs.

“Was that okay?” He sighs against your lips.

“More than, baby.”

“I missed you.”

And you hum with a smile, raking damp hair out of his face.

You missed him too.

Both of your phones clatter repeatedly against coffee table glass and it finally spurs Frankie to his feet.

You both still alive?

You need electrolytes?

Fish, rub some sugar on her gums.

You read the group texts aloud from your back on the floor and Frankie laughs, returning with a warm washcloth and your underwear.

All good, Santi. So good.

Frankie sits on the couch and kisses your stomach as you stand and shimmy your panties up your legs. He pulls you to curl against him where he can still trail his nose over your sweat-slick neck.

How do I know Fish didn’t take your phone? Proof of life.

It’s tossed offhandedly with a smile. He doesn’t expect his screen to light up with a photo from Fish.

The look on your face in the photo is apologetic, one hand raking the hair out of your eyes, the other holding your phone with the screen lit to display the date and time. Frankie is behind you with his nose pressed into your hair and a Cheshire cat grin playing on his lips.

God, on the COUCH?

Sorry, not sorry, Pope. Is his answer.

Santi offers only the eye-roll emoji in response. 

_____

Fifteen minutes later, when you’re both showered and in bed, Frankie’s head resting on your stomach and your hand gently raking through his freshly washed hair, your phone fills the room with blue light.

From Santiago to you alone.

You’re better for him than you know.

The truth is, he hasn’t seen the man smile like that since his daughter was born. 

I can’t save him, Pope.

No. But you can make him feel.

And you understand exactly what he means because someone once did the same for you.

You stretch and Fish moves, rolling you onto your side where he can fit against your back, solid arm locked around your waist, breath brushing peacefully against your neck. 

Yeah. 

You can make him feel.

And sometimes that’s enough.

#frankie morales #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #ohforficsake

[melbatron5000]

Murder Board 2.0

Updated 4/27/24

Since I've figure a few things out, I need to re-do my Murder Board. New answers, new questions.

What I think I know:

NEIL GAIMAN IS A LYING LIAR WHO LIES. Except when he's dropping hints or answering straight out. All of his answers to anything anyone asks about GO are suspect at best. (I cannot blame him or anyone else on the cast or crew -- they spent A LOT of time and energy building this very meticulous puzzle game for us -- why would ANY of them give ANY of it away? That would ruin all the fun!)

Most of the discontinuity of Season 2 can be explained by POV switches between characters. See here and here for more. I think the title/location cards are also probably POV Clues, that needs a closer look.

Crowley gave something to Aziraphale in his mouth when they kissed. It's the fly. Now, what else was in the fly besides Gabriel's memory? RECORDS.

Saraqael and Crowley and by proxy, Aziraphale are all working together. See here and here for more. That explains A. the tiny miracle blowing up into a 25 Lazarii miracle. It didn't. They had to cover for something else that did. B. Saraqael showing the archangels the book shop in 2019 in the spy hole. C. Crowley's spy turtle neck and where he went during Aziraphale's Job flashback. D. Why Saraqael helps him see the trial in Heaven. (Oh! Muriel's now in on it, too!)

Crowley's memory is fine, it's a red herring. He is dissing Furfur, he is denying knowing Saraqael even after she gives him a reason to recognize her to hide that they are working together. He tells Jim he doesn't remember why they invented gravity, but that whole scene if from Aziraphale's perspective, so the conversation likely didn't actually go just like that.

Shax is on a mission besides Gabriel -- she's looking for whatever Aziraphale and Crowley are hiding. Gabriel is a side-mission.

The hand-washing comment from Crowley in the Resurrectionists minisode -- he tells DaVinci about helicopters in Good Omens the novel. It's just a thing he can do.

What is up with Maggie? Maggie's freaking Jesus 2.0. She's what Shax is looking for, and who Crowley, Aziraphale, and Saraqael are hiding. Also, where is God? God is busy being Maggie, that's where. Now, how the FUCK did Jesus 2.0 wind up owning a record store she inherited from her family NEXT TO AN ANGEL??

SECRET SONGS??? Why are the songs secret?? I'm losing my mind, what is happening?? I think this is a message that A. Aziraphale and Crowley are okay, and B. We will absolutely be getting part 3 of 1941.

I still think the scenes might be out of order. Is it as simple as watching them in chronological order? Could be.

What still needs answering:

The clocks jumping time still don't make any sense.

The weird hand in the 1941 photo still doesn't make sense.

Aziraphale's chair position being moved still doesn't make sense.

The extras behaving strangely still doesn't make sense.

Crowley's car being in the wrong spot on the road after Shax threatens him still doesn't make any sense.

I'm not sure that the POV switches explains all the weird sounds.

I'm not sure that POV switches explain Crowley's sunglasses going from silver to black.

I still don't know why Aziraphale went to Edinburgh, or why he stopped at the graveyard where Gabriel's statue is.

Why does Michael do the "nothing's in the box" thing with the matchbox? It's a petty specific action. Someone pointed out that Michael's nails look chewed and terrible, are we meant to stare at the matchbox while something else goes unnoticed? Well, duh. But what?

We most certainly did not get the whole scene where the Metatron is talking to Aziraphale. What else was said?

What did Crowley do during his ALL-NIGHT JAUNT in Heaven? Did he sneak around and steal something? Did he uncover something? Did they hurt him?

What did Aziraphale do with his briefcase that he took to Edinburgh? We see it in the book shop from his POV, and Edinburgh is seen from Crowley's POV, so they both know it exists. And then it's gone.

Why does Gabriel prophecy with God's voice? IS it God's voice? It's a woman, is it Francis McDormand? It's hard to hear.

Why the heck did Maggie and Nina go talk to Crowley while the Metatron was talking to Aziraphale? What they had to say wasn't important enough to leave Nina's shop during a rush, and I definitely don't think they derailed Crowley from what he needed to say to Aziraphale, though it might look at first as if they did. So what was that about?

When Shax stops Aziraphale for a ride, he says, "Oh, I really need to get to --" and then is cut off. He really needs to get to where? It's an easy assumption to think he means the book shop, or London. But is that all he means? Or was he on his way somewhere else? And if it was just the book shop, what does he mean he's late? Late for what?

Crowley can tell "something's wrong," and he doesn't just mean the demons. What?

Why would the Metatron allow Beelzebub and Gabriel to leave, after trying to stop Armageddon 2.0, but come after Crowley and Aziraphale like that? Because of the big miracle? Just because they're higher-ups? Something stinks. Is it because he knows they know where Jesus is?? Fuck.

Why does Crowley say "Oh, God," right before his confession in the final fifteen? To let Aziraphale know that he understands what Aziraphale is saying? That God (or the Voice) is there? Seems possible.

When Crowley leaves Heaven, he tells Saraqael and Muriel to come, too. But in the elevator, Michael and Uriel are there! When the fuck did they show up??

Why does Beelzebub tell Shax to attack the bookstore? Aren't they worried about Gabriel being harmed? And they know Hell is understaffed. Maybe that's why they command it? Because they know Shax won't be able to get the demons?

What about the Masons? It's such a specific thing for the pub owner to bring up, what is the meaning of it? And Maggie has a Mason symbol on her necklace. Did the Masons carve the statue of Gabriel? When did they see him?

The only narration we hear in the entire season is Aziraphale in the Resurrectionist flashback. I believe this is to throw us off the POV character switches all season. But still, why do we only hear him narrate 1 flashback? I think he's reading the diary to himself in the present day. That would explain the end, "And that was the last I was to see of Crowley for some time." He JUST heard the story of the jukebox from Maggie. And Gabriel appearing -- same city that statue is in. Of course he thought of something important from that diary entry! Now, what did he notice?

Is the Book of Life a real threat? We hear two stories about it, that it's real and that its ability to erase beings was something to scare the cherubs with, this is inconclusive. Crowley gets nervous after Beelzebub talks to him, but I think he's pissed that Heaven and Hell have taken an interest in them again, especially since they're trying to hide Maggie!Jesus.

So many promo posters show Aziraphale, Crowley, and Jimbriel together, or symbols of them. Three feathers: two white, one black. Tea cup, cocoa mug, wine glass. The three of them. Not with Beelzebub, not with Muriel, the three of them. And all three of them have been Jesus-coded in some small way. No one else. Those three. What. Why. Are they the sacrifice required to bring about the new world? Why not Beez, then?

Wait. Two Crowleys?? WTF. There are two Crowley puppets in the magic shop. Am I insane? I have no theory here, just some wild speculation that needs a lot more time to simmer. Two actual Crowleys, or two ideas of Crowley? Or something to hurt my head?

An album on the wall in Maggie's shop says "Rat Keith." This seems to me to be an allusion to The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents, by Terry Pratchett. In the book, some men have tied several rats' tails together to create a rat king that keeps the wild rats under control -- except that the rat king has too much power and is doing way more than just that. People die. So who's been given too much power and is now running the show instead of being a puppet? The Metatron, perhaps? Hm . . . Also, Keith is the young boy who plays the part of the Pied Piper for Maurice's scam. He leads all the rats out of town, never mind that the rats can talk and are in on the scam.

WHAT is going on with that damn white head statue in Aziraphale's book shop? It's centered in more than one shot, as if it's a character. Is it a POV hint? I wonder, if it is, whose POV it represents?

A blog that I didn't reblog pointed out that the records Aziraphale is listening to when Garbriel shows up are neither Shostakovich nor 21 minutes long. That seems important, but I'm not sure how.

Repeating themes: (I am just realizing that these aren't just themes, they are all Clues!)

Beverages of all kinds -- tea for Aziraphale, wine or whiskey for Crowley, cocoa for Jim.

Time -- lots of clocks/mentions of time. Everyone notices the ticking clock during the Final Fifteen, but it's ticking loud when the demons attack the ball, too. Also, why is the first scene of Whickber street shown at high-speed? Is time sped up? Or something else?

Love/partnership/togetherness being stronger than separateness

Memories/forgetting/remembering

Payment -- money comes up in both the Resurrectionists minisode and the Flesh Eating Nazi Zombies minisode, but no one pays for anything in present. There is bartering, but no money. Actually, both times money is brought up, it's Crowley using Aziraphale's money. It's funny, but I feel like there's a point to it.

Rising from the dead -- Job's kids (even though they weren't actually dead), bodies used for science, Nazi zombies, the Second Coming. I think this is all just hinting around Jesus -- sure, hinting around Jesus, who we were expecting to show up in Season 3, but she's already here. The hints indicate that she is already on Earth, not going to show up next season. Ha!

Unreliable narrators. Because we are seeing the whole show from various characters' points of view. Because of that, we can only see what they know, expect, believe, or understand, but also what they want us to see. We need to take the whole second season with a grain of salt.

Death in general -- but 9a., I'm a dirty pagan, why didn't I make this connection sooner, death always leads to REBIRTH, change, something totally new and 9b. there are tarot cards in the magic shop, and even if you're not a dirty pagan, the Death tarot card means transition, something must die before a new thing can be born. Hmmmm.

Morality and what is "good" and what is right

Recognition and identity. Ah! Probably at least partly because Maggie is Jesus. How would you recognize her? She doesn't look like White Jesus, or even a more realistic Middle-Eastern or Black Jesus. She looks like Maggie. Who would know her? I think there's more to this theme, but Maggie as Jesus 2.0 adds up.

Licenses, permits, permissions, rules, proof, evidence, what's allowed. All of the minisodes mention this, and it all gets mentioned again over and over. Because Heaven and Hell do have rules they have to follow. Which drives home my theory that Gabriel stole some very incriminating records from Heaven when he left, Crowley got hold of them and gave them to Aziraphale during the kiss, and now Aziraphale is going to nail them.

Colors. Job's kids are dressed in the colors of Nina, Maggie, and Aziraphale's shops. Jesus on the Resurrectionist Pub sign is in blue and orange, blue and orange crop up a lot in clothing, as do yellow and red, Crowley colors.

Horses. Horse statue, horse wine label, people saying "dark horse." The four horsemen again?

Repeating words and phrases:

Technically

Properly

Isn't it just?

Too late

Funny old world

Not as such

Made for each other

EVERYWHERE

Obviously

Two shakes of a lamb's tail

Dark horse

Hints:

Powell and Pressburg films

The Crow Road

Catch 22

The Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rodents, Terry Pratchett in general

Jane Austin

Book Good Omens

The titles of episodes, minisodes, places, etc. 7a. The Arrival: a book and a movie, though the book seems far more relevant. And lovely. The Clue: a movie. Companion to Owls: a line from a Bible story. I Know Where I'm Going: a movie. The Resurrectionists: two novels, each called The Resurrectionist, singular. Both look unhinged. The Hitchhiker: a Twilight Zone episode. Nazi Zombie Flesheaters: Literally no other reference. ?? Nazi Zombies do appear in a LOT of movies, comics, and video games, usually as a dark joke. The Ball: a video game. Irrelevant? It's a puzzle-based game, so maybe not. Every Day: a song AND a movie. Some themes repeat here: Puzzle games, being re-directed from one's path to find true love, death and being brought back to life in a gruesome and unpleasant way.

Objects that get a close-up/centering:

Starmaker's nebula book

Shostakovich record

Tomatoes

The box

Eccles cakes

The bell

Head statue

The book Jim drops

#good omens #good omens 2 #crowley #aziraphale #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens analysis #good omens fan theory #ineffable mystery #good omens minisodes #good omens 1941 #good omens resurrectionists #good omens Job

[360iris]

with a feeling (poly!prongsfoot x reader | mafia au)

“You’ve missed me, baby?” James asks with a bright smile, both hands firmly gripping the steering wheel as he speaks to you through the car console.

“More than anything, Jamie.” You answer back immediately, and though he’s focusing primarily on the road, he can see from a quick glance at the screen how you’re currently sprawled out on your stomach in bed. Your soft cheek resting against the backs of your hands, cutely pouting at the camera as you mentally urge your boyfriends to return home as quickly and safely as possible.

“What about Sirius, hun?” James asks with a cheeky grin, sparing a glance towards the man currently riding in the passenger’s seat, knowing full well the response he’s going to get.

“What about him?” You ask in a considerably different tone, your voice bordering indifferent as you turn your attention to your nails. Acting as though those shimmering, opaque gel polished digits were significantly more interesting in comparison to the new topic of discussion. 

That’s all it was in the end however- a long-standing game of pretend that existed between Sirius and yourself since the day the two of you laid eyes on one another. A teasing charade which masked caring carasses as tugging fistfuls of hair, and transforming fleeting kisses into prominent bites and bright red hickeys. 

From an outsider’s perspective, the two of you were united on some semblance of a common ground- appearing intimidating, judgemental but breathtakingly beautiful in each other’s silent company. 

And to friends, you behaved quite differently. A bickering, arguing duo who could rarely get through a single conversation without it coming to empty insults.

But to James, he alone got to see you as you truly were- learning your past and how you met Sirius before you’d known the faces, or names of any of the other Marauders. A particularly peculiar, but intimate love story in its own right.

“Did you miss him?” He answers, deciding to humor your game as he did more often than not.

“I suppose I noticed it was significantly quieter than usual, without a particular loudmouth running around in the house.” James chuckles at your response as Sirius huffs indignantly, glaring icily at the screen before an idea comes to mind and he’s suddenly wearing a faint mischievous smirk.

“That’s very funny, kitten.” Sirius responds, slipping a strand of hair behind his ear as he leans back against the leather seat. “You know I’ve been meaning to ask if you enjoyed your three weeks of solitude. But then, I remembered that you were left with nothing to fuck but a few silicone cocks and those tiny fingers of yours. And I can’t imagine that anyone would’ve been able to make the most of that situation. Can’t say I had any trouble like that however.” He finishes, and you know he’s referring to having James to fuck when the need or interest inevitably arose.

Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you don’t bother to answer because he’s right, and you hate it. Choosing to silently glower into the camera as he stared back smugly.

“Is that true, sweetheart?” James chimes in, a bit of pity apparent in his tone as he mulls over the mental image of you laying prettily on your back. Attempting and failing to replicate even an eighth of the pleasure and fervor you’d grown accustomed to receiving during sex. “You weren’t able to come as hard as you’d like, baby?” 

If that sentence had come from Sirius, you would have thrown the darkest glare you could’ve physically managed. Would’ve probably flipped him off and ignored anything he’d said for the remainder of the call. But it’d come from sweet James, who you knew felt genuine sympathy at the thought of you experiencing even as minor an inconvenience as that during, and due to, his absence.

“No, I wasn’t able to.” You answer quietly, pointedly not looking in Sirius’ direction.

“We’ll make up for that, honey. I promise.”

This scenario now has a blurb series based on it! Pt. I, Pt. II

#the marauders #hp #harry potter #sirius black #sirius black x reader #marauders era #poly marauders #prongsfoot #james potter x sirius black #james potter x reader #james potter fluff #hp blurb #harry potter blurb #hp fanfic #mafia!marauders #mafia au

[venuslcver]

FIRST TIMES ⋆

pairing: virgin!rafe x bestfriend!reader

synopsis: the notorious outer banks slut, rafe cameron, never seemed to have a first time. at least that's what the people of the town thought.

tw: feminine described character, profanity, alcohol consumption, losing of virginity, unprotected p in v, smut, miscommunication trope, semi-public sex, toxic love (no use of y/n)

any type of interaction including likes, comments, and reblogs is appreciated! but ultimately not necessary. let me know if im missing any warnings!

contrary to what most of the teenagers on the island believed, rafe didn't become the town slut out of nowhere. there had been theories of who he had lost his virginity to. maybe it was alice— his first-ever serious girlfriend from the 9th grade, or maybe it was mrs. sanderson, his 10th-grade student teacher who of which played favorites with him. she always seemed to have a keen eye on him.

sadly, for you, though it was never any of the above. besides a few whispers for here and there, not a single person would have guessed that it was you who had made rafe cameron lose his virginity.

i mean, everyone had to know that he didn't get his "expert" skills from nowhere. at least that was what every girl in outer banks called it. for years, you had to hear the people of outer banks talk about their "experience" or rather "run-in" with rafe. even a close friend or two of yours. it was enough to make a girl want to stab her own eyes out.

see, no one knew, not a single soul except— rafe and you. if it wasn't for you stopping rafe, he would have shared it with the whole of outer banks. just for rumors to spread like a wildfire.

most girls would have died right on the spot if rafe wanted more than sex and flirting with them. but you weren't one of the girls looking at him from a tiny perspective, i mean, you were his best friend after all.

you both were fifteen, drunk as fuck, while laying out on the open part of his boat. rafe had always seen you in a more sexual way than you ever saw him. not to say that you weren't attracted to him. he had always been known to make a few sexual jokes occasionally. and only a select handful of times did you see him ever gawk at you.

yet, on this day you had seen him look you up and down every chance he got. al though it seemed to be a little out of the ordinary, you shook it off, only holding it in the back of your mind.

so, when he intoxicatedly offered to rub sunscreen on you, like always, you didn't find it weird. starting off like normal, he began rubbing it in on your shoulders, then your back, but this time he slowly began moving his large hands towards the globes of your ass. you had been too intoxicated to speak, along with too turned on.

just as you thought that his horny-fueled actions would stop, he spoke, "i heard that for girls to get'a even tan, their tops gotta be off"

"is that even true?" you thought.

not giving it too much of a second thought, enjoying the attention that he was actively giving you, you shook your head in agreeance. taking that as permission, rafe gravitated his hands over your back, causing goose bumps to appear, before slowly pulling your string bikini top unloose, letting it fall to the sides of you, not being satisfied with the lack of view he was getting of your boobs, rafe pulled at your side, not before spoking yet again, "let me get'your front"

when you flipped around, you could tell by rafe's look on his face that he had only seen boobs in porn, never in real life. not wasting a moment with the opportunity, he yanked at your neck, pulling you into a heated kiss.

covering your boobs as you stood up, rafe guided you into the private bedroom of his new yacht. slowly pulling down your bathing suit bottoms, rafe began laying sloppy kisses down your neck, onto your chest.

wrapping your fingers around his dirty blonde locks, rafe let out a low moan. untying his swimming trunks, you pushed his waistband down, allowing his dick to come out.

pushing you hair out of your face, he spoke with sincerity, "are you sure?"

letting out a verbal "yes", rafe began positioning himself, gently forcing himself in. he began to calm you, "it's ok, baby, i'll be gentle"

slowly fastening his pace, rafe knew that he would come soon, although you seemed to be enjoying it, you weren't as distraught in pleasure as he was. it was a lie if it wasn't said that he was slightly nervous.

"does this feel good?", he asked as he slowly began to rub circles.

"a-a little lower", you said while guiding his hand. his movement seemed to make you fall apart with increasing speed. seeing you fall apart in front of him, caused rafe to become more confident with his actions.

see, rafe thought after what had happened, that you would want something more. but it seemed that you just wanted to keep your friend. taking your rejection to heart, rafe began to become increasingly reckless, starting to do coke. i mean you were the only girl that he was interested in after all. you were his first.

he didn't seem to understand that you never wanted to lose the friendship you guys had after what happened. quickly coming to terms with the fact you could still be his friend while being his girlfriend, you wanted to ask him for a second chance.

but sadly by the time that you had come to the realization, he had already become an unrecognizable person, one that you didn't even want to look at. though that never stopped him from eye fucking you from across the room at a party, all while being completely and utterly coked out

his change in personality never stopped you from reminiscing on how gentle he was, even when he had never done it before. though you never knew he often thinks of that day. hell, out of all people, he would stop doing dangerous shit if you asked.

#rafe x you #rafe smut #rafe blurb #rafe cameron #rafe imagine #rafe x reader #rafe obx #dark rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #sarah cameron #jj maybank #outer banks #obx #⋆ rafe cameron fic ⋆ #virgin!rafe

[daisygirlwrites]

Little Things (Simon "Ghost" Riley + Reader "Crash") Platonic Headcanons

Part Three to Rough Start & Olive Branch

a/n: hey hey! been a minute, sorry about that ;-; also sorry that this is a bit shorter than usual but i might write some small fics about a few of these headcanons in the future. should be posting again sometime soon though! thank you so much for reading!

taglist: @bobfloydsgf , @itsscromp , @d4z01

Being friends with Ghost is like putting a puzzle together except all of the pieces are scattered. Finding some of them would bring you delight and while others give you a better understanding of the man. Throughout your long years of friendship, you come to an understanding that there will be pieces of him that you will never get to see, some forever gone. And yet, even if the puzzle is incomplete, you had most of it together. You’d rather have that than nothing at all

That being said, your first year with the team was quite good, besides the constant threat of almost dying and a certain member of the team being mean for almost half of it

But after bonding over knife throwing and tea for the last couple months, you and Ghost have grown close. To him, at least. From your perspective, after getting your new callsign, you felt like your relationship with him hasn’t progressed much

However, it’s the little things that you’ve noticed with him:

Like making your tea in the early morning. Half of the time you would join him and other times when your nightmares don’t show up, he’d leave your mug in the microwave

Knowing that you were raised in the Rocky Mountains, it kind of surprised him to learn that you hate the cold. So during missions in colder climates, after watching you shiver like a wet cat, he’d give you his extra pair of balaclava and gloves.

“It’s a little big on me” “Fine, give it back then” “No >:( “ 

Another thing that he does for you is taking your first watch during missions. In the first couple months when you joined, Soap and Gaz had a list of “Rookie Responsibilities” and of course one of them was to take the first watch. It wasn’t really mandatory but being a people pleaser, you did it anyway. 

It went well at first but in the last couple months, Ghost noticed that you, in his words, looked like shit after missions. And of course, you’d volunteer for the first watch. Sometimes, when it was his turn, he’d find you somehow looking worse, giving him the frog blink and thumbs up, before watching you immediately pass out on the cot or couch. 

You’d make a fuss when he would take the first watch and he had to basically pull rank to force you to go to sleep

Still calls you Rook/Rookie besides your callsign. Would sometimes call you Tiny and Mini-Me just to piss you off

Isn’t a surprise but Ghost is really observant. Knows your nervous ticks and honestly reads your emotions well. He didn’t do it before but he does check up on you 

Head pats is a thing that he does. Used to do it to his nephew and Joseph would look up to him with his cheeks puffed and whining “Uncle Si!”. You’d have the same reaction except with calling him Uncle Si, you’d usually say “Ghost, what the fuck”

You find out that Ghost doesn’t like talking about family and Christmas. Hearing some bits of info from Price, it broke your heart to learn about the reasons why he’d always gone on missions during the holiday. But at the same time, you understood him

You kind of do the same thing, taking on missions instead of going on leave. Kind of surprised Ghost when hears that he’s going to get paired up and with you of all people

“I figured you’re the type to celebrate the holidays” “Oh, I am, Just didn’t want to see my dad, that’s all.”

He opens his mouth to comment but chooses to not say anything at all. He gives you a nod instead. Ghost understands your family dynamic, it mirrors his.

Would copy his accent to make fun of him over coms. Yes, it was very bad but it did make the team giggle. He hits you back with an equally horrible American accent that made you cry

He accidentally told you one of his favorite dishes during a stake out. He was listening to you talk on coms about how much you missed pizza and how you can’t wait to go back to base to make some, silently nodding in agreement. 

“I would kill for a bubble and squeak right about now,” he thinks out loud, not realizing that his coms were on He became slightly concerned when heard you stop talking for a moment, before repeating to him, “A bubble and squeak?!” Even without seeing you, he can tell you had a big grin on your face, “I’m gonna keep quiet.” “No no, LT. I’m not making fun of you,” you assured him, “Tell me, what’s a bubble and squeak?” Ghost lets out an audible sigh before he gives you an explanation, “Basically mix some leftover mash, vegetables and roast and then fry it up in a pan." "Holy shit , that sounds delicious.”

Taught him some gen z slang because you notice that he would eavesdrop during your conversations with Soap and Gaz sometimes

Share the same type of humor. When you, Soap and Ghost got separated in Las Almas, they would hear you cackle on coms

Both of you wear your balaclavas as a second skin and would forget to take it off sometimes. Would sit in silence together as the rest of the team roast you for getting your masks wet with tea

Crash : “I have no soul. Have a nice day! :) “ Ghost : “I don’t have one either.”

Honestly, he finds you annoying but in a good way. Having you talk to him gives him the comfort that the relationship is improving but at the same time, he wants to smack you upside the head

That’s when he realize how much you remind him of his brother

When the queen died, Ghost wasn’t too upset. That is until you reminded him that Charles is now king

Due to some previous events, you’re the one driving Ghost everywhere when you guys hang out. Is offended when you straight up tell him that he has shit driving skills. 

Calls him Passenger Princess as a joke

Ghost is more into books than movies. So it does come as a shock that he mentions that he hasn’t seen the LOTRs movies. You basically force him (and the rest of the team) into a movie marathon for a day. He grumbles about how some of the scenes are different from the book but he does get into it during the Mountains of Moria

Impressed with how you handle your liquor. Watched you beat Soap and Gaz in a drinking contest before drunkenly demanding chicken nuggets and then passing out

Ghost is surprisingly decent at video games. During game nights, he’d beat everyone at Mario Kart and Super Smash Bros. You accuse him of cheating and of course, he denies it. Had to be held back by Price as you repeated “These hands are rated E for Everyone.”

Your face wasn’t a mystery to him or to anyone in the team. You took your mask off regularly around them. But like many others, you saw his face in Mexico. There was a greater sense of trust that you felt when you made eye contact with him. He gave you a soft smile and you returned it

"Huh, didn't think you'd be a blondie," You remarked as you both head towards the truck "Didn't think you'd be short but here we are," Ghost jokes back

He will never admit it in front of you that he's sees you as more than friends. That you have the best qualities from his family; his mother's compassion and his brother's humor and determination. Hell, at some points, you even resemble Joseph with your optimism.

He has someone to call family again

Bonus Memes:

#daisygirlwrites #call of duty x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod x reader #cod headcanons #cod hcs #call of duty headcanons #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost headcanons