#This is the sorts stuff I’d like to see more of in my asks

[rdr2enjoyer]

Hey, broham. I’ve noticed in a lot of the NSFW posts you put a LOT of emphasis on how big Charles’ dick is. I just want you to be aware that to me it’s coming off as fetishistic and sort of vaguely racist that the black dude has some massively huge cock. Actual dick size disparities between ethnicities around the world are a few centimeters at most. Charles also isn’t really that much bigger than the other guys (bulkier but shorter than Arthur) and is smaller than Bill, physically.

I’m sure you don’t have any ill intent, but I want you to be aware that it’s what I’m seeing and I’d recommend you re-look how you talk specifically about Charles’ dick/body. There’s a long history of this stuff and with how tied in RDR2 is with American history especially it’s hard to ignore Implications even if you don’t mean it that way. Peace.

My first instinct to this ask was to be defensive (an ugly trait that I have that I'm working on) but it would be foolish for me, as a white person, to pretend I am immune to and completely free of subconscious racism/biases. I don't believe that's the case for anybody. I do want to make it clear though that racist stereotypes do not consciously inform my headcanons/opinions of these characters.

I'm not unaware of the stereotypes around black bodies and have actually done some introspection on this before and here's where I landed.

I'm aware there's no way to prove this, but when I answered that ask requesting penis size headcanons I was basing my headcanons largely on each character's personality/characterization as I do with 90% of my headcanons. I am aware, of course, that penis size has nothing to do with someone's personality but my content is like 80/20 fantasy to realism.

With Charles in particular, my headcanon of him being very well endowed stems more from the joke around quiet, respectful men being secretly and surprisingly hung. At least, consciously that's where it came from. ("Men who know when to stfu always hung")

Now to address the portion of this ask warning me about fetishizing him...I am doing that. I'm fetishizing all of them. Dutch is a sadistic dom, Kieran is a whimpering and eager submissive, John is a wild brat to be tamed etc etc. That's just my content. Of course, I'll continue to try not to let racial stereotypes inform my content.

I hate the idea of POC followers being made uncomfortable by my content, I try to keep this an inclusive and friendly space to everyone. I appreciate the respectful message and reality check, and I'll be more conscious of the way I discuss the bodies of POC characters.

[talk-to-me4ever]

HIII!!! Talks @ u forever

erm what do you do whne you really dislike a person but they're dating your best friend

like they aren't a bad person or anything they just REALLY annoy me because a few certain things,,, like one that really makes me upset is how hard setting boundaries are with them,,, i remember recently me & them were joking around in a discord server and they made this really sexual joke towards me and it made me really uncomfortable and. i told him hey! can you not make those jokes please as a boundary (in dms) and they literally apologized for it like 200 times. and i felt so guilty about it and now every time they make me uncomfortable i just feel guilty making their insecurities flare up like that because they have a lot of mental health problems but they're basically just guilttripping me even if it's unintentional idk i just if i told my friend about their bf being like this than she'd either not believe me or she'd break up with him and his issues would get worse,, i'm kinda acting like a mini therapist for him atp and i've worked really hard to try and make him feel like he doesn't have to apologize for everything and that we care about him and if we just left he wouldn't believe it anymore. like at the end of the day i pretty much have to keep being his like stand in therapist but GOD does it get tiring especially when he can just run around saying whatever because i'm so shitty at setting boundaries

vagueposting on a tumblr blog probably isn't the most mature move but eh this has been on my mind for some time lol

on anon because my best friend has tumblr and i don't want them seeing this 💔 but i think you know who i am LMAO

hey how about you just take a breather here and we’ll get a hang on things. So from what I understood, you’re having trouble asserting yourself and are stuck in a situation where you have to make sure the other person is alright despite it affecting you in an unpleasant manner.. Well, in any case, if you’re doing the job of taking care of someone for them (without any primary reason of let’s say a family member or sick friend you’d go to the end of the earth for) then it’s most likely a relationship that’s bound to be destroyed.

Most things when forced just don’t work out well, even if you have a vague sense of obligation that’s just unspokenly pulling you to stay with someone because you can’t bare to see them hurting. It’s something that many empathetic people suffer with and often leads to a draining exchange between someone who is likely ignorant to the help they’re getting and someone who is giving their all but getting nothing in return. Ofcourse, I’m not saying that’s what’s happening, because there’s thousands of variables that could affect a situation, but I just am one to say that if you gotta be overly careful around someone, limit yourself, and feel awful because you’re trying your best for them and are getting nothing in return, to just stop that little game. Easy on paper but can be a struggle in real life. Disliking someone can be a natural process but if it’s actively worsening your mental state, even just bit by bit gnawing at you like a termite infestation, then it deserves to be adressed, especially if to the point where you are aware of it and the discomfort it brings.

Usually, in life, the universe does a silly thing where when you remove one thing, it bounces back. It’s just a strange thing I’ve noticed, like.. if you save $2 somewhere, in some odd range of events you’ll end up paying 2 bucks extra somewhere. It’s an odd effect I’ve noticed and unsure if it has a name or is just a theory, but it’s similar with people for me. If I stop talking to one person, I’m just magically supplied with another individual a few weeks down the line. It’s like a cycle of balance. And for good to come sometimes you gotta be patient through rocky times. But you need to know, if there isn’t anything that’s changing, you must actively do something.

If he is bothering you, albeit with mere presence alone, you need to work on allowing yourself the courage to set your foot down. Even if it means being rude, even if it results in appearing mean and a bit cold, but you shouldn’t prioritise other people over yourself, never, in any condition. It’s good to try keep relationships healthy and blossoming but many people just force themselves to stay in a loop in fear of losing someone close, rejection, or being uncertain. Change is a natural part of life, and if in response to you being yourself someone leaves, then it was just meant to be. Don’t be afraid of announcing that you’re not exactly comfortable with something, and best of all it’s nice to work things out, but if they refuse to listen, make stern decisions.

You deserve peace in life and relationships that don’t feel like a chore, friend. And even through a hard moral struggle, I believe you can decide on something that best works for you.

im a bit unsure of how to work through boundaries and all but if you pin point a specific problem, then that could be a good place to start. Do make sure you are happy, though. Please. I want you to be able to say that you’re uncomfortable and for things to just calmly happen and change, ya know? I hope your day (and lifetime) goes well. :)

[razzledazzletrassh]

no major fic updates just yet guys TAKE MY WOY OC I MADE LIKE. April of last year IM PLUGGING SOME INFO ABOUT THIS GUY IN THE TAGS.

I may also redesign her soon or something. Make her more bug-like with some stuff. I can cook guys let me cook !!!

[nereidprinc3ss]

Happy 2k babe! I have a request for fluffy Spencer smut based on the song "touch tank" by Quinnie! (the song gives me like golden retriever vibes so maybe you could put something about reader playing with his hair in there? I don't know I'm having later seasons fluffy hair Spencer brainrot and I never make requests, obviously feel free to ignore or change things if this is too specific! <3)

hi angel babe!!! i love this song!! and i too am always having later seasons fluffy haired spencer brainrot!! i wrote this super quick, please let me know if its any good, ILY!!! xo

warnings/tags: fem!reader, softdom!spence, sub reader, fingering, oral f receiving, sorta kinda overstimulation, implicit consent, praise n stuff, not proofread, written at 9 pm on a tuesday night, so fluffy

18+ (smut)

-------------------------------

Spencer is clearly almost asleep on the couch next to you. That’s one of many things you find endlessly fascinating and charming about him—his ability to fall asleep anywhere at any time within minutes. 

So you probably shouldn’t speak. But the stakes are low; it’s barely 7:30 in the evening. 

“Spence?” You whisper. His eyes don’t open, but his thumb goes back to making little passes where it’s settled over your hip. 

“Hm?”

“Don’t fall asleep.”

He smiles, slight but beautiful—yet his eyes remain stubbornly closed. 

“Why not?” 

“’Cause I want you to be awake.” 

“Then you can’t keep playing with my hair like that.”

You pout as if he can see you.

“But I like playing with your hair.”

Spencer hums, and you can tell you’re losing him again as you continue carding your hand through stupidly soft locks. 

“One or the other. You can’t have both.”

“I love you both, though,” you complain. “I don’t know who to pick.”

The grin has been steadily fading from his relaxed face but it flickers back to life for a moment. 

“I’m getting a haircut tomorrow. That should make it easier for you.”

“What?”

It’s the genuine horror in your voice that finally gets him to open his eyes. A little line appears between his brows as he regards you with bleary eyes. 

“What what?”

“You didn’t consult me!”

The momentarily tensed muscles in his face relax and he rolls his eyes affectionately before craning his neck to kiss your forehead. 

“I’m not in the habit of requesting your approval before I make choices like that.”

“Spencer, please don’t cut your hair,” you beg, genuinely distraught. “You can’t. It’s so so pretty.”

“It’s too long, baby. I don’t want to grow it out again.”

“You don’t have to grow it out! Just don’t get it any shorter! It’s perfect how it is,” you insist. Spencer narrows his eyes as you plead with him. But you stand firm in your position. His hair is sort of shaggy, sure—too long to be considered cropped and too short to be considered long. It’s like a beautiful curly halo and it’s perfect playing-with length. “I’m serious. I’m asking you to not cut it short, please. This is what I want for my birthday.”

“Your birthday’s not even—”

“Pretty please with a cherry on top? I love your hair so much and I love you more but I just really don’t want you to cut it, please—”

He’s laughing when he silences you with a soft kiss, and you melt, sighing against him as his hand slides up and down the back of your thigh. When he knows you’ve been sufficiently soothed, he pulls away, still smiling. 

“Oh my god, baby—are you about to cry?”

“Stop!” you whine, burying your face into a throw pillow and screwing your eyes shut. Your nose crinkles up with embarrassment. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and though he’s no longer outright laughing, traces of humor still color his lowered voice as he kisses all over the side of your face.  “I had no idea you felt that way. I didn’t realize I’d be causing you so much emotional distress if I cut my hair.”

You sniffle away any unfortunate emotional reactions and turn your head back to him. He’s ducked down slightly, still peppering kisses over your jaw and neck, and you lace your fingers through the contentious hair. 

“Obviously I’m not the boss of you. If it makes you uncomfortable I want you to cut it. But I really like it how it is.”

He hums against your throat and the vibrations send a chill down your spine. You arch against him unconsciously. 

“You are definitely the boss of me. I don’t know anyone else who I like receiving orders from so much.”

“Hotch,” you whisper, and you can feel Spencer’s teeth against your neck as he smiles and presses another loving kiss to the sensitive spot above your collarbone. 

“Not the kind of orders I was talking about. And I don’t particularly care what Hotch thinks of my hair, honey.” He kisses tenderly until he earns a tiny whimper from you—which sates him enough to raise his head until you’re eye-level again. His hand, however, has other plans—it creeps south, slipping under the waistband of your pajama pants. “What if we compromise? I just get it trimmed so it doesn’t keep getting in my eyes when I have a loaded gun in my hands, yeah?” You nod dutifully, looping your arms around his neck as his fingers dip beneath your underwear. When you don’t reply verbally, he prompts meaningfully, “okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, voice small as you look into his searching eyes. 

For a few moments, when he finally pushes his fingers against your clit and begins rubbing with slow, gentle strokes, his eyes are everywhere on your face—then they focus back on your eyes, watching with that habitually intense interest permeated with a sense of devotion—like he wants to see exactly what pleasure looks like reflected in your irises. Like he could see through them to your brain and watch your dopamine transmitters working overtime. A soft moan escapes through parted lips, which seems to spur Spencer on. He drags more arousal over your aching bud and openly chuckles at your airy sigh of pleasure, unable to resist from giving you a short kiss. 

“Feels good?”

“Mhm,” you breathe. 

“Mhm,” he agrees, kissing you again just as quickly before pulling back to study your face once more. “Pretty girl.”

“You’re pretty,” you insist, with what little brain power is available to you as you rake one hand through his hair. He smiles, eyes pinging between your own and your mouth like he can’t decide where to look.  

“I’m pretty?” he asks, speaking over another quiet, yet unabashed moan. You nod, hips bucking slightly off the couch cushion as he speed up the motion of his hand. The grin widens and his soft amber eyes soften further. “You’re so sweet.”

You give him a moan he can’t ignore and he takes it as a signal to slip two fingers into you, sighing in what sounds like relief just as your breath catches. The way he seems to feel your pleasure will never get less erotic. Once he’d explained it—something to do with mirror neurons—but whatever the reason, watching the way his arousal rises with yours is exhilarating. 

A squeaking sound is expelled from your lungs and your whole body tenses, propelling you maybe an inch upward involuntarily. 

His lips part the same as yours—but only allowing another dry laugh to pass between them. 

“Relax. I’ll come to you.”

You hum as he leans down and kisses you back into the pillow—a proper kiss, this time, lips parted and the tip of his tongue grazing yours—all the while, still pumping his fingers much deeper than your own could ever manage. Each moan and gasp he allows you to release freely, only barely parting from your lips every few seconds to let you breathe and make your noises. When his fingers begin pumping faster, and you can hear it, you whine, knees clamping shut as the small of your back jumps away from the couch. 

“Fuck,” you pant against his lips. 

“Need you to keep your legs open, baby,” Spencer reminds you gently, giving you a peck and a moment to relax as his hand stills. 

“I don’t think I can,” you admit shyly, still wriggling. “Um, can you—can you use your mouth, please?”

Your boyfriend chuckles again and your cheeks get warmer. Momentarily you allow yourself to be grateful that his face is pressed too close to your own for him to be really be looking at you. 

“You still have to keep your legs apart for that.”

“I know. It’s easier when—when you’re not inside.”

The smile in Spencer’s voice when he replies gives you butterflies as if he’s not knuckle deep in you already. 

“I bet you think that’s true.”

“It is!” you whine. 

“You’ve never had your thighs wrapped around your head so tightly your ears pop, have you?”

“That did not happen.”

“Only once,” Spencer reassures you. “And I happen to like your thighs. So no harm done. Go lie down on the bed.”

You let out a small chirp as he withdraws his fingers from you and your waistband snaps back into place against your skin. 

“Where are you going?” you ask suspiciously, once you’re on semi-steady feet and watching him rise from the couch too. At once he kisses your forehead and grabs your ass—the contrast is dizzying. 

“To wash my hands,” he says, popping the fingers that were just in you into his mouth like a preliminary clean up. “Go,” he urges, jutting his chin in the direction of the bedroom door. You hang from him just a second longer, biting back a smile, before tearing yourself away and only half-skipping to the bedroom. 

Only a moment or two after you flop joyfully down on the mattress, he appears in the doorway again, immediately noticing the way you’re practically vibrating with excitement and unable to hide your grin as he approaches. It seems the smile is contagious—he’s sporting one of his own as he climbs over you. 

“You’re adorable,” he murmurs toothily, kissing you once and then speaking again, “I love you so much.”

It’s exactly the kind of thing that makes you feel all soft and shy and giddy and speechless—even as he gives you one more parting kiss and then is sitting up to slide your pants off. 

Maybe even especially then. 

The sweetness dissipates only a little, still hanging thick in the air as you kick your bottoms off, and he leans back down, pushing your shirt over your chest and pressing kisses to your ribs and down your tummy. He doesn’t waste much time, only taking one brief detour to suck a mark and sink his teeth into your inner thigh until your breath catches loud enough to appease him. Then it’s all easy—his cool fingertips trailing up and down the backs of your thighs as he kisses all over and around your core. Intimacy with Spencer is definitely a spectrum, and while you can always feel the depth of his love for you in every touch, right now it’s so tangible, so potent you can feel it in your teeth. 

You coo when one of the kisses finally sticks, lacing your fingers through the hair you love so much and pushing it out of the way as he laps gently at you. He looks as beautiful as always in the golden hour light as it filters through the window, but you’ve always thought he’s just that extra bit prettier when he’s eating you out. 

Visually you’re entranced—it’s only when he begins easing you into the deep end with the flicking of his tongue that your brow knits and you gasp. 

“Spencer,” you whisper, and it melds into a louder gasp. “Baby.”

He hums into you, reaching around your thigh to grab one of your wrists. You allow him to drag your hand from his hair and intertwine your fingers, his hand on top of yours, pressing them against your stomach where he sweeps his thumb back and forth over your knuckles.

The display of tenderness only makes you ache deeper in your belly, singing in airy, open-mouthed praise for him with a moan you know he would describe as pretty. Spencer says things like that often. He always talks about you like you’re an art form. When it comes to talking about touching you, he’s especially poetic. 

When he begins to suckle, your moans get a little more explicit. 

But he likes those ones just fine, too.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, though it’s a little choked, as you writhe just slightly against him. “That’s so good—oh my god.”

The hand that’s not holding yours rapidly changes position—pressing your thigh to the side with his elbow while he slips his fingers inside you once more. 

At that, you really do choke, your body attempting to sit bolt upright but set off balance by the way your hips buck. You moan, loud, lilting, head still lifted to watch as he begins fucking you with his fingers. Your fingers brush through his hair several times before you’re anchoring your hand in it and falling back. 

“Wh—please, baby, I can’t—”

But you can, and you both know it. You always do this; your body sends you signs that you’re over-indulging and fights to escape the stimuli and Spencer has learned to recognize your false flags for what they are. His hand speeds up along with his tongue and you cry out again, fighting to keep your legs open and your hips on the bed as every nerve in your body seems to light up neon. 

“Oh—Spencer I’m gonna come,” you warn, all high pitched and synthesized into one word. He simply hums a long mhm in acknowledgment, and decides at that moment to brush his fingers over that spot inside of you which proves to be exactly the right button to trigger your detonation. 

You can’t help the way you twist then as your orgasm washes you out—jaw dropped as your final keen starts loud, sputters into silence, and melts into an exhausted whine as your hips wind down. Spencer (wisely) adjusts his position, letting go of your hand only so he can sit up as your thighs clamp shut hard. But he’s still pumping his fingers as you writhe, his own mouth hanging open and groaning as you mewl. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, ready to beg him to stop—but as usual, he knows your body better than you do. An orgasm that you had thought was on its way out gets a second life and you can’t even breathe as you feel it so deep within you, pinpointed to one spot of focus, that you have to curl in on yourself, keeling onto your side because it’s simply too intense. 

Either your vision goes black or your eyes are simply closed—regardless, time ceases for an unquantifiable moment, and you come to with Spencer rubbing your back and murmuring your name. 

“What did I do to you?” he laughs, not unkindly.  

Your back arches as mild aftershocks trickle through your system. 

“I don’t know,” you slur. “Dark magic.”

He allows himself to be pulled on top of you once more, and you tangle your hands in his hair again. 

“But you’re okay?” he murmurs, using his dry hand to play with your hair and brush over your cheek. 

“Mhm,” you nod, eyes fluttering shut once more. Then you laugh, sudden and unexpected to both of you. “I think. That was intense. I felt that one in my soul.”

You smile as he exhales a laugh against your skin. 

“Okay,” Spencer sighs after you catch your breath, bumping his nose against yours before sitting up—this time, not allowing you to pull him back down. “I need to take a shower. You should come with me.”

“Five more minutes,” you mumble. He raises his eyebrows. 

“But this is your last chance to wash my hair before it’s a whole inch shorter tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you laugh, but it turns deadly serious very quickly. “Spencer, I am not letting you cut a whole inch off your hair. I need that inch.”

“For what?” He snorts. 

You smile big, glad he didn’t see your joke coming for once. 

“Handles! Duh!”

[avelera]

Man, there’s all these little beats in OFMD S2 1-3 where people keep EXPECTING Stede to be upset or horrified about Ed’s actions and then he’s just. Not. In a way that reminded me of how a lot of fanon kept softening Stede into someone who doesn’t swear and is horrified at Ed for setting those ships on fire when imo to my eyes he was horrified for Ed because Ed was still so clearly distressed about it.

- Zheng Yi Sao asks Stede how he’s doing now that he knows Ed did horrible things to his crew and there’s this beat and Stede just pivots to, oh yeah, sometimes Ed is troubled. Like it didn’t occur to him to be upset on the crew’s behalf he’s worried about Ed.

- Izzy keeps trying to spare Stede’s feelings and cover up Ed’s spiral, but Stede clocked what was going on with Ed immediately and wasn’t the least bit intimidated or bothered. The knives brought the room together. Of course Ed’s trying to burn the world down or die trying. Duh. And I genuinely don’t think the STUFF in the Revenge mattered even a fraction to Stede as much as the signs of Ed’s breakdown broke his heart. It’s just STUFF, who cares.

- Lucius had to SPECIFICALLY call out Stede for not being surprised or bothered by what happened to him. What Ed did. Stede has to almost consciously remind himself to express polite concern. He just doesn’t actually care, instinctively or automatically, about what happened to Lucius. Part of it is he blames himself more than Ed. Part of it is he just doesn’t care, Ed is the priority.

They’re little blink and you’ll miss it pauses in some cases. Micro-expressions. The absence of a reaction. But honestly, I will scream it to the end of time, Stede is not some nonviolent creampuff scared or upset by Ed’s evil ways. He wants to join Ed in the atrocities. The man ran away to become a pirate. He asked if Lucius was taking notes during a murderous raid.

Stede’s at least a little on some kind of whackadoodle pirate comedy neurodivergence spectrum to the point where he actually really actually struggles to empathize with people, even people he cares about!, if their feelings conflict with his hyperfixation (piracy) and the love of his life (Ed Teach). He’s always, ALWAYS going to pick Ed over Lucius or Izzy or his crew or even his own feelings, if the option is there. He will literally throw himself overboard to get to Ed’s side. No pause. No consideration of anyone else or even his own safety.

Stede sometimes seems to have to consciously remind himself things like, oh yeah, the crew, I need to see to them. Not because he’s heartless or doesn’t care, but because it takes a bit of conscious effort for him to see beyond the laser-focused spotlight of what and who he does care most about, he has to remind himself of social niceties and other people’s feelings (just see him running away in the first place!) when he gets an idea in his head. It’s as if he had to train himself to consciously care about some things other people care about and as a neurodivergent person myself, that felt very familiar in a comedically writ large sort of way. I’d even argue that’s where all his aristocratic social niceties come from. They were his guidebook for how to do things “right” in a world that otherwise made no sense to him outside his hyperfixations. He practiced being a person through the aristocratic training because it was all so foreign to him from the start, including caring, actually caring, about the needs of others. Not because he’s consciously evil or consciously a jerk. The instinct just isn’t there unless he practices at it until it becomes reflex to ask how others are doing, because on his own his brain just doesn’t really notice or care.

I just… hope the fandom notes and has as much FUN as I do noticing all the little moments where even people inside the story of OFMD expect Stede to act in a normal way and instead he remains unhinged, laser-focused on Ed.

Stede’s not just an Ed apologist, he truly doesn’t blame Ed for any of it. He blames only himself. He doesn’t always voice this but he really really only cares about anyone else including the crew as a DISTANT second and he has to consciously REMIND himself to do so. He is able to rally to take action, to care about their physical needs like safety during the rescue, but he still struggles, deeply struggles, to remember to show empathy in a non-performative way for anyone except his special person, Ed.

Stede’s not a creampuff, not a nice guy, not some emotionally or morally perfect angel. He has to consciously practice caring about literally anything else but what he wants to do and his special person. And to me that’s a thousand times more interesting than shoving him in a box labeled “the blond, pacifist do-gooder good guy” in their relationship.

[moonstruckme]

perhaps whimsical!reader x one of the marauders (you choose) who’s being made fun of but doesn’t realize it? And they defend you or talk to you or something?

Thanks for requesting <3

Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader ♡ 745 words

Remus watches as your eyes drift out the window beside his couch.

“I think you’d like it,” James continues, unaware that he’s lost your attention as he tells you about the shop he’d gone to with Mary the day before. “They’ve got incense and crystals, all that stuff.” 

When you don’t react, Remus nudges your leg with his. 

You look at him. “Hm?” 

“That does sound like someplace you’d like,” he tries to clue you in, “doesn’t it?” 

“Oh, yes.” You give James a breezy smile. He returns it with ease, not a lick of pique about him. “Thank you, James, I’ll have to go. Where is it?” 

James’ thick eyebrows come together. “You know, I’m not actually sure. Mary led the way there and I just sort of followed, but I want to say it was on fourth.” 

You nod, and Remus smiles at your obvious expertise on the matter. He doubts there’s a shop of that kind that you haven’t been to, but you’re humoring James just to be kind. “Right, there’s a string of them on fourth street. Maybe I can ask Mary sometime and see if—oh, the fawn is standing up!” 

You grab Remus’ hand excitedly, turning in your seat to get a better view out the window. Your eyes are very nearly heart-shaped as you coo over the baby deer wobbling to its feet a few yards from Remus’ home. “Oh my goodness, it’s so precious. Do you guys see it?” 

Remus shoots James an apologetic look, but his friend smiles and shrugs it off, coming to lean over the couch beside you. 

“It is really cute,” he agrees.

Sirius laughs. “You’ve really got yourself a goldfish, haven’t you Moony?” You don’t pay him any mind, but Remus regards him quizzically. “She can’t seem to talk to anyone for more than two seconds before she’s distracted by something shiny.” 

Now, you turn, your head tilting like a puppy’s. “It’s not shiny, Sirius, it’s a fawn. Do you want to come see?” 

“It’s a figure of speech, love.” 

“Pads.” Remus’ voice is hard. “Don’t.” 

Your brows pucker at your boyfriend’s tone. “Remus,” you sound almost hurt, “what’s wrong?” 

He wraps a protective hand around your thigh, but James speaks before he can. 

“It’s nothing,” he says cheerily. His voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “They’re always squabbling like this, they’re like an old married couple. Best to do as I do and stay out of it.”

“Oh, please,” Sirius guffaws. “Like you’ve ever stayed out of anything in your life.” 

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” James says. Remus relaxes as the beginnings of a bemused smile touches your lips. “I don’t partake in any such childish quarreling.” 

It’s only after his friends leave and Remus is cleaning up his kitchen from all the snacks they’d left strewn about, that he says quietly, “Don’t mind Sirius, dove. His sense of humor can be mean, but he wouldn’t tease you if he didn’t like you.” 

You pause sweeping up the floor, looking at him curiously. “What do you mean? I thought they were both really nice.” 

“They are,” he says, “but I just want to make sure you understand that when Sirius was making fun of you, he didn’t really mean anything by it.” 

“He was making fun of me?” 

Remus swears he feels his heart fall right out his ass. 

“Yes, sweetheart, but like I said, he was only teasing.” He gives you a small smile, but at your puzzled look, reluctantly clarifies, “You remember when he said you were a goldfish?” 

You nod. 

“That was it, dove. That was the joke.” 

“Oh.” You smile funnily, one side of your mouth quirking up more than the other. “Is that supposed to be a bad thing? I’d love to be a goldfish.” 

A little laugh startles out of Remus. “Really?” he asks.

You nod happily, resuming your sweeping. “They can see more colors than humans, did you know? And they’re really very pretty.” 

It’s all Remus can do to keep from crossing the kitchen to squish you in a hug. He’s grinning ear-to-ear. “Well,” he says, trying to match your serene tone, “then it suits you, dove.”

“I think so,” you say lightly. “You should be a goldfish too, Remus. Or actually, I think I see you more as a seahorse. We could both be seahorses, if you like.” 

“Don’t seahorses mate for life?” 

“Mhm. Suits us, don’t you think?”

[konpeitonom]

I am shocked that no one has asked for a Daisuke nsfw alphabet version yet...I must change that... Can you make a Daisuke nsfw alphabet when you have the time, please? _(´ཀ`」 ∠)_

daisuke nsfw alphabet.

nsfw — lowercase intended ^_^

fem reader —

requests are open and heavily encouraged, i write for every mw character ^.^

notes; it took me a couple days to do this IM SORRY. it might be all over the place. complete writing slump rn but i now have dedicated times to write and such so hopefully i wont slack, haha..

and happy 102 of you all! did not think i’d reach this far so early.

nsfw under the cut! minors do not read

a — aftercare, (what they’re like after sex)

— he’s always hungry after sex so he’ll always make you/order you food, whether or not you want it or not, haha.. he’ll also set up the tub for you, or whatever. if you’re at his place he’ll set up his fancy jets.

b — body part (their favorite body part, and their partners)

— 100% a thigh kind of guy.. will ask you to suffocate him with them. non-sexually even, he just has a fixation on your thighs.

— for him? nothing in particular, i really can’t think on this. maybe his hands?

c — cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

— not inside, he’s too paranoid for that kind of thing (he’s still young after all!) even if you are on birth control.. i think on the bed or whatever surface you guys are on, because he’d feel just a tinsy bit bad if he cums on you. with your permission, on your thigh..

— i mentioned in my regular daisuke headcanons that he used to be a bit of a player. he doesn’t wanna make you feel used and stuff, so he tries his best to not come off as such..

d — dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

— he cums really easily. he’s kinda embarrassed about it. came while making out, because he grinded a bit on your thigh. had to excuse himself to the bathroom. don’t laugh at him be nice about it haha.

e — experience (how experienced are they?)

— hes not too experienced sexually.. once or twice maybe? or a virgin too. i see him as 18-21 and i feel like most people don’t really lose theirs till then.. whatever it is, he doesn't really know what he’s doing.

f — favorite position (self explanatory)

— you riding him.. he thinks it’s just really hot- likes the sight of you on top of him. In bed, he’s not particularly dominant unless you’re much more submissive than him.

g — goofy (are they more serious in the moment?)

— he can get a bit overwhelmed emotionally i think, so he might make a joke or two or just be less serious overall to sort of cope with that.

— seeing sex as intimacy rather than just a way to get off is a sign of growing up for him which i think might scare him a little?

h — hair (how well groomed are they?)

— he doesn’t think about it! it’s never something he paid much mind too so unless you’re bothered by it then he doesn’t care all much.

i — intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic wise?)

— i think he can be pretty romantic. like, praise or ‘i love yous’ during sex. but it’s not something he focuses on unless it’s a special day.

j — jack off (masturbation headcanon)

— i think he jerks off pretty often, however often a teenage boy/young adult usually does. usually to the thought of you, or porn (projects the two of you when watching..) or maybe to one of your clothing items you so happen to leave at his place. he’d wash it, promise.

k — kink (one of their kinks)

— semi-public stuff. his car or bathrooms even. he doesn’t actually wanna get caught or in trouble but he really, really likes the idea of it.

— marking!! thank you 🪖 for the inspiration. only in spots you’d allow him too. maybe not on the neck just for looks sake.. particularly enjoys your thighs and shoulders.

— watching you masturbate. you watching him masturbate. i won’t elaborate this is a throwaway thought.

— i think.. he’d like it if you degraded him? maybe a bit of a guilty pleasure, it’s just sexy. but there’s a thin line between that and being plain mean.

l — location (favorite places to do it)

— .. in the car, in some random parking lot. it’s like the perfect place for him. privacy, but not too much. and no worries about his parents or yours. and likes the look of fogged up windows, just a hint of what they’d done!

m — motivation (what turns them on)

— seeing you want it is the hottest thing to him. like you tugging at his sleeve, telling him you wanna go home early to go ‘do stuff’. just say the word and he’ll do it for you!

n — no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

— nothing that hurts you, or hurts him. i mean, it’s sex, it’s supposed to feel good. he wouldn’t like being mean to you. you could be mean to him but he can’t imagine like, slapping you.

o — oral (preference in giving, receiving)

— prefers receiving! i mean he eats pussy, and likes doing so, but is in love with the way your eyes look as you go down on him.. your lips, the way it feels, he loves it. especially in the privacy of.. a bathroom stall.

p — pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

— i think.. he thinks faster is better. and sometimes it is. not particularly rough but he tries, if that’s what you’re into.

q — quickie (their opinion on quickies, how often)

— he likes them! loves them, even. after that initial stage of awkwardness he’s totally up for sex everyday, even if it’s a little quickie.

r — risk (are they willing to experiment? do they take risks?)

— hes very open and excited to try new things, infact i think he does most of the suggesting. of course he considers your preferences into account before doing so. if you suggest something, 9 times out of 10 he’s willing.

s — stamina (self explanatory)

— i think he can go for a long while.. he has a lot of energy. he used to play baseball (canon) so i can only assume physically he’s very active.

t — toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on themselves or their partner?)

— yes, 100%. he prefers using toys on you, as a way to please you. double stimulation, or whatever. but he’s not opposed to using toys for himself either. he wouldn’t go out of his way to do so, but if you wanted it then for sure.

u — unfair (how much do they like to tease?)

— he’s not much of a tease. maybe if you were being kind of mean that day, he’d tease you a little. but he prefers it when you tease him, honestly, thinks it’s real cute.

v — volume (how loud are they? what sounds do they make?)

— he’s loud.. whines and groans. he can’t help it, really. he’s not just doing it for show. though, he tries to quiet down just a tinsy bit so the focus is on you. he likes it when his partners are loud.

w — wild card (a random headcanon)

— has wet dreams more often than not. it’s really funny, actually. i think if he dreams about you specifically within said wet dream he’d feel a bit of guilt, then eventually jerk off to whatever it was.

x — x-ray (what’s going on underneath?)

— i think he’s average in length but a bit thicker. please compliment his dick he’s really insecure abt it ngl. that’s really all i have to say, sorry!

y — yearning (how high is their sex drive?

— pretty high i’d say. or just a bit higher than average. but being the people pleaser that he is, he’d take note of yours and go based on that rather than him.

z — zzz.. (how quickly they fall asleep)

— he can if he wants too, but would rather get up and do something else. he doesn’t want to feel all sore and groggy when he wakes up so he’d take a shower at least.

[fairysongs]

౨ৎ coming home too late﹕spencer reid .ᐟ

summary: based entirely on the song, coming home by beabadoobee. pure fluff.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

includes: soooo much fluff, spencer’s pov, spencer is in love with reader, reader is just as in love with him, very small mention of depression, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader loves to clean, established relationship, derek morgan is spencer and reader's #1 fan, did i mention spencer is in love?

word count: 1.7k

a/n: eeeek my second fic!! i got so happy writing this. maybe the most sickening sweet thing i ever did do. i love beabadoobee's music so much i kinda wanna write a million different things based on her songs. Anyways..!!! as always likes/reblogs/feedback appreciated :3

spencer reid had never felt more relieved to be sitting inside this jet than he was right now.

sure, he’s happy every single time his team is able to wrap up a case. he’s happy every single time they catch the bad guy. he’s happy every single time justice is brought to victims and their families. he’s happy every single time he gets to come home and see you. he’s happy every single time he notices the way your eyes light up when you see him walk through the door. he’s happy every single time you throw your arms around his neck and he gets to pick you up, inhaling your sweet scent as if he’d never be able to embrace you again.

but this time it was a little different. it was currently 6:54pm in california where the latest case was. meaning it was 9:54pm back home. it would take approximately five hours to fly home and another thirty minutes to drive to his apartment. meaning he wouldn’t step through his door until way after three in the morning and he knew you’d be sound asleep by then. and it was saturday, a day that never held much weight to him until he started living with you.

he found out that you grew up with a rather strict routine in your home. your parents deemed every saturday ‘cleaning day’. every saturday you did your weekly chores and that habit stuck with you as you moved on to live with college roommates, on your own and eventually with spencer.

he remembers when he first asked you to move in with him. you’d been dating for about a year and a half at that point. he brought it up in a rather nonchalant way and he was so thankful you were not a profiler and couldn’t tell how hard his heart was beating inside his chest as he started to ask.

“you know… you sleepover here a lot. i mean, you have your own drawer in my dresser, your own space in my closet…” he started one morning, sipping from his mug of sugary sweet coffee. “your skincare stuff in my bathroom, your special shampoos in my shower… your little treats stocked in my fridge…” his lips started twitching, trying to fight the stupid large smile that wanted to show on his face.

you hummed in response, your fingers tapping against your own mug that was full of tea. you hated coffee. when he learned that he bought a box of your favorite tea and kept it stocked in his kitchen. “are you… complaining?” you asked, voice sort of quiet with uncertainty.

he shook his head immediately, realizing he wasn’t being as straightforward as he assumed. “no!” his voice squeaked slightly, causing you to raise your eyebrows. “no… no, i was just… i mean, you spend so much time here and i really love it. i love you being here with me and i… if you wanted to move in i would… i mean, i want you to move in. if you want to. please.”

thankfully your heart was just as pretty as you were and you didn’t let him nervously ramble for too long. instead you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. you stood on your tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “relax. i’d love to, spencer. but i have to warn you, i’m quite a lot to deal with twenty-four seven…” he would just stare back at you, with nothing but love and admiration pouring from brown hues. he always thought you were so silly when you’d say things like that and he’d spend the rest of the morning telling you that while peppering sweet kisses to every inch of your skin.

he did learn very quickly just how serious you were about your routine. you woke up at six in the morning every saturday. you’d start in the bathroom, then make your way to the kitchen, then collect the dirty laundry from the week, then focus on organizing every little desk and shelf he had in his home. at first you wouldn’t let him help you, explaining that you didn’t want him to feel obligated in helping you with your own crazy little habit. he’d shake his head and just ask you what kind of laundry detergent you liked as he piled clothes into a basket.

“if you keep up with it weekly, then it won’t get out of hand and too big to fix.” you mumbled one time while scrubbing the dishes. “sometimes when the scaries got really bad, i used to forget to keep up with my cleaning. all the mess just made things more unbearable. keeping on top of it makes me feel more in control. even if the ‘cleaning’ one week is just refilling the toilet paper and doing one single load of laundry.”

he nodded his head in response, emptying the trash beneath the sink. spencer was nothing but soft with you, but even more so whenever you mentioned your struggles with depression or ‘the scaries’ as you called it. the two of you quickly fell into a habit every single saturday. you split the work load. you’d do the dishes, he’d carry the trash out, you’d fold the laundry, he’d vacuum the rug. he didn’t have to say it, you’d already know, but he enjoyed the structure of routine just as much as you did. the rest of your saturdays were spent on the sofa, your head in his lap while you forced him to watch your favorite childhood show. takeout food spread across the coffee table in front of you. there was so much comfort the two of you found in the domesticity of it all.

so, yes, he was a little bit upset he missed this saturday and was so ready to get home and pull you into his arms and never let go. he hadn’t noticed him spacing out, eyes focused on the same page of a book he was reading for five minutes, until he heard derek morgan’s voice.

“hey, loverboy!” spencer’s head snapped up, brows furrowing at the man giving him a cheeky smile. “you’ve been staring at that page for an eternity. what’s on your mind, huh?” he asked, although he already knew the answer.

you met the whole team ages ago and every one of them adored you but derek especially admired the way you loved spencer. he’d never say it out loud, unless it was in a teasing way to get spencer to blush, but he genuinely believed you were an angel sent to the boy genius. derek noticed how blissful you made him, how gentle you were and how safe he felt with you. how could his heart not swell in appreciation for the love you gave to his brother?

“i missed cleaning day…” spencer spoke, brows pulling together slightly. there was a soft sigh that fell from his lips as he pulled his phone from his pocket. your last text saying you were gonna stay up and wait for him even though you both knew that you’d fall asleep the moment you got comfortable.

“okay… and is that a bad thing?” derek responded, leaning back into his seat with a slightly confused expression.

“well, yeah. she likes cleaning every saturday and we normally split the work between us. that way we have more time to spend together.” spencer huffed and tucked his phone away again. he closed the book he was reading. “it’s more than just the cleaning, derek. i hate being away from her, you know? we never know when we’re gonna get called away on a case like this and i like spending as much time as i can with her. and i hate coming home late. it makes me feel like i’ve missed so much.”

derek breathed out a laugh but nodded, understanding all too well what he meant. emily prentiss came around the corner, one hand holding a cup of coffee and the other resting gently on spencer’s shoulder. “spencer reid, you have become the most smitten, lovestruck man since you met that girl. and it’s the most adorable thing in the world.” everyone on the jet chuckled softly at that, even aaron hotchner, while he blushed and adverted his eye contact towards the shaded window. he knew they weren’t laughing at him, more so showing an expression of how happy they were that he was happy.

he stepped into the dimly lit living room of his apartment at exactly 3:26am. the tv glowed over your sleeping body on the sofa, arms wrapped tightly around a stuffed red panda he gifted you a few birthdays ago. the netflix screen asking ‘are you still watching avatar: the last airbender?’ shined in his face as he leaned in to shut the machine off. he walked over to your sleepy state, a tiny smile growing on his lips as he leaned in to brush some of your hair from your face. he tucked one arm beneath your knees and held the other one to your arm as he carried you to the bedroom.

you stirred, humming softly as he quietly shushed you. “shh, hi baby. i’m home now. go back to bed, yeah?”

“how was the flight?” you asked in a soft whisper, ignoring his requests. he chuckled, shaking his head and he set you gently on the cushion of his mattress.

“it was fine. too long. i’m sorry i’m home late.” he was just as quiet as you, pulling the duvet over your body and tucking it at your shoulders. he picked up the stuffed animal that had fallen beside the bed and tucked it next to you as well.

“it’s okay. we always have tomorrow.” with your eyes still closed, you smiled as he kissed your forehead.

“yes, my love. we do, don’t we? i’m gonna get changed okay? go back to bed.”

“i’ll wait for you.”

when he was changed out of his work clothes and into his pajamas, he turned back and found you soundly asleep again. he let out a quiet laugh, got into bed and pulled you right to his chest. he played with your hair until he fell asleep too, no longer upset about the day he missed with you because you were right.

he always had tomorrow.

[revelboo]

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t log on every day to check for updates to your Trine x Reader series (Skywarp you lil shit 💜) but I do hope you continue your writing with Thundercracker and his love of movies.

I definitely will, I enjoy writing them 😁 Shockwave and Optimus arrived, Skywarp and Thundercracker got delayed

True Romance Pt 12

Seeker Trine x Reader

• There’s something oddly comforting about feeling all three of them hold onto you. Not demanding anything more than this as you stare up at the sky. Like you just belong here with them and it lifts through you with an ache you don’t quite understand. Because Skywarp and Thundercracker are always reaching for you, but Starscream’s only just started to lose some of his frosty indifference. Watching you more, glancing at you while he’s working to check on where you are, who has you. Gruffly asking if you need anything, his wings fidgeting. You’d assumed he’d been annoyed at having to look after you, but maybe that’s just how he is. Wondering if maybe the aloof, distant act is just that- an act.

• Aware of his brothers around him, his trine together and at peace, the warmth of you against him, there’s the uncomfortable realization of how fragile this is. Finding you had been pure chance. You might not have survived the wreck. Might have run towards the Autobots instead of staggering his way. What he’s sure of? Skywarp and Thundercracker are happy and there’s nothing he won’t do to protect that. “I thought we could all watch a movie together when we go home,” you say, voice soft and hesitant. Asking. And that word, home, rings through him coiling warm about his spark. Because it’s right.

• “Not the sappy stuff,” Skywarp mutters, turning his face against your throat and venting. Because if Thundercracker picks, it’ll be a love story. It’s all he wants to watch lately. Since finding you. Feels your fingers brush a wing and he shivers slightly, leaning into the touch, wings flaring. Aware of Star shooting him a look to behave when it’s so hard when you don’t know what your soft touch does to him. Tempting him to bite the curve of your shoulder when you absently brush over his sensitive wings. Growling when Thundercracker reaches up to grab your wrist and pull your hand away.

• “Wings are sensitive,” Thundercracker says, gripping your hand to keep you from accidentally finding any other sensitive spots. Sees your face redden slightly as he rubs a servo against the back of your hand. “Like mesh.” Carefully tugging your hand so your fingertips brush his neck. Shivering despite himself and avoiding Star and Sky’s optics as they stare at him. Judging the little teaching lesson, recognizing that he’d just wanted to feel you touch him.

• And everything just sort of shifts even though you have no idea what just happened. Aware of a tension that hadn’t been there just a second ago as Thundercracker keeps your hand trapped in his, servos rubbing absently against you like you’d been touching Skywarp’s wings. “I don’t care if you touch my wings,” Skywarp grumbles, looping an arm around your neck, face so close to yours you can feel it when he vents, brushing his cheek to yours so your skin prickles with awareness. And then Star is gently pulling Thundercracker’s hand from yours.

• “Everyone keep their hands to themself.” Stiffening when you pull your other hand from his helm, Starscream has to resist the urge to pull it back to him after just saying that. Because he understands Skywarp’s grumpy muttering. You’re soft and warm. And absolutely off limits. Even if Skywarp is right and you are compatible that way, he’s not interested in the drama of his trine squabbling over you. Which means keeping the other two and himself in line to keep the peace. Resisting the temptation that you pose, something that had never occurred to him might be an issue. Realizing he likes the feel of you against him a bit more than he should.

Previous

Next

[saphronethaleph]

“There are… rumours, in the Senate, about Master Kenobi,” Palpatine confided. “Many believe he is not fit for this assignment.”

“Not fit?” Anakin repeated. “Why would anyone think that?”

Palpatine spread his hands slightly. “They say his mind has become fogged by the influence of a certain female Senator.”

Anakin blinked.

“That’s ridiculous,” he said. “Who?”

“No one knows who she is,” Palpatine said, slyly. “Only that she is a Senator.”

“Oh, okay then,” Anakin replied. “It’s complete nonsense.”

Palpatine frowned.

“You seem very certain about that, Anakin,” he noted.

“Yeah, but rumours are usually pretty specific about details like that,” Anakin shrugged. “It’s a rumour in the Senate, right? So it’s a rumour about a Senator, too.”

Palpatine began to object, then paused.

“Well, yes, but not specifically-” he began.

“Are there rumours about a Senator whose judgement has been impaired because she’s sleeping with a Jedi?” Anakin went on. “Because if there is then we just line them up and that explains who it is. Or who it’s supposed to be.”

He frowned, minutely. “My money’s on Mon Mothma, honestly. Or Bail Organa. Are we sure the rumour said female?”

Palpatine raised a hand.

“Well-” he began, but Anakin was already standing up.

“Actually, I’m going to ask someone else about this,” he said. “See you later, Chancellor!”

“Anakin, I’m trying to-” Palpatine said, but he was talking to an empty office.

“Really?” Padme asked, then shook her head. “No, that’s not one I’ve heard.”

“You’re sure it’s not one that’s passed you by?” Anakin asked. “I don’t know how much Senators talk to one another.”

“We do it a lot,” Padme told him dryly. “It’s the main thing we have time to do. Are you sure the rumour said female? Because I’m getting a lot of my information from Bail Organa, and he’d be my first guess.”

“He was my second,” Anakin told his wife. “But, no, Palpatine was sure it was a female senator.”

“Then I’m out of ideas,” Padme said. “I’d have thought Mon Mothma, but she’s happily married to Perrin Fertha and he looks more like Qui-Gon Jinn than Obi-Wan.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Anakin said. “And, honestly, I don’t really believe it myself… he didn’t shack up with Satine even when it would have been a net benefit to the Order and the Galaxy and stuff.”

He frowned. “Unless…”

“Unless?” Padme asked. “That sounds like you’ve had an idea, Ani.”

“What about if the rumour was trying to throw me off?” Anakin asked. “I heard it from the Chancellor, but maybe he has another reason to say it. He is a politician… maybe Obi-Wan is seeing Palpatine, and the female senator bit was to throw me off?”

Padme blinked.

“I’m fairly sure they don’t like one another very much?” she tried.

“That’s just what they want us to think, right?” Anakin asked. “Think about it! That’s actually a way better way to disguise a relationship than what we’ve been doing.”

He glanced at Padme. “What have we been doing to disguise our relationship, actually? I’m sure there’s something.”

“We don’t tell anyone that we’re married?” Padme said. “It’s worked so far.”

“True,” Anakin agreed, relieved. “I’m glad we’re doing something.”

Padme smiled, then her smile turned into a frown. “Now I think about it, I can’t remember a time when Palpatine was interested in women – as a Senator or as a Chancellor. So it’s not immediately wrong… I just can’t think of a time he was interested in men either.”

Anakin looked thoughtful. “I think… I’m trying to think of a time he’s looked at Obi-Wan that way, but the only person I can think of he looked at that way is me…”

Obi-Wan’s commlink rang, and he nearly crashed his starfighter into the raw matter of hyperspace itself.

“What is it?” he asked, picking up the commlink in one hand.

“Master!” Anakin said. “I think Palpatine is just using you to get to me!”

Obi-Wan, who had no context whatsoever, just sort of stared for several seconds.

“What?” he said, then noticed that the nav computer was giving him urgent warnings and yanked back on the hyperdrive lever. His Actis fighter dropped out of hyperspace, and he disengaged from the hyperspace ring with the practised motion of someone who had become very, very good at a thing they fundamentally didn’t like doing very much.

“I thought about how he’s been looking at me,” Anakin explained. “Whatever he’s told you, I don’t think it’s real.”

“Anakin, what are you-” Obi-Wan began, then paused. “Actually… wait.”

“What?” Anakin asked. “You don’t believe me?”

“I am trying to think,” Obi-Wan answered. “And fly a ship, as well. I have a job to do before Cody gets here.”

“All right, Master, I’ll wait,” Anakin said. “But this is important. I don’t want your heart to be broken.”

“My – no, this is important, Anakin,” Obi-Wan replied. “You killed Dooku, correct?”

“This seems completely irrelevant, but yes,” Anakin answered. “Why?”

“I was thinking about something Dooku told me once,” Obi-Wan told Anakin. “He said that Darth Sidious had control of a lot of Senators.”

“Still not seeing the connection, unless you think those Senators have been seducing you,” Anakin replied.

“I think the Chancellor is Sidious,” Obi-Wan declared. “And, Anakin, you’re going to have to tell the Council and get help sorting it out, I am landing in less than two minutes.”

Anakin was silent for several seconds of those less than two minutes.

“If you want to break up with him, Master, you don’t need the whole Jedi Council to do it for you,” he said. “And if you think he’s hideous, why did you start sleeping with him in the first place?”

“Put Padme on the line,” Obi-Wan suggested. “No, wait.”

“Waiting, Master,” Anakin replied.

Obi-Wan took a deep, calming breath.

“Put your wife on the line,” he resumed. “Or, if she’s not there, tell her that I’m fairly sure Chancellor Palpatine is the other Sith we’ve been looking for. And get her to call a vote of no confidence, she’s good at those.”

Satisfied that that would buy him the time he needed, he began making his final landing approach.

It was only a shame he wouldn’t get to see their faces, really. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

[deadghosy]

This is one of my 1st times requesting anything so bear with me please lol cna I request some headcannons or just a scenario of Draco with a twin sister who got sorted into gryffindor. Just like how their relationship is over the years n stuff similar to that(hc wise) for a scenario maybe the slytherin boys figuring out Draco has a twin and that twin is a GRYFFINDOR.(I think I’d be funny)

(sorry if this is long)

DRACO WITH A GRYFFINDOR! TWIN SISTER HEADCANNONS

A/N: you can look actually like Draco, or be the type of twins that don’t look alike at all. I appreciate reblogs, comments, and such as likes.

After you got sorted to Gryffindor expect for Slytherin. You were worried your slight older twin would not deem you as his sibling. You eye the Slytherin table nervously to see him staring at you. A heart broken expression as he tries to mouth to you, only for you to be taken back at a boy with glasses and dark hair. The boy seemed nice and took you to a boy with red hair. You knew he was a Weasley. You slowly got along with the two boys

As years pass, with glances from your brother and his group of friends he made easily. You were scared that he may try to insult you, maybe not even claim you were his sister. Harry, you boy you soon learned the name of figure quite quickly that you were the twin sister of his rival perhaps. He didn’t bash you because of your brother, more like felt sympathy.

Draco, personally I feel like he wouldn’t be like “ew you’re not my sister no more you blood traitor!” Yes he would feel betrayed that you are a Gryffindor. But you’re still his sister that grow up with him and know his secrets. He can’t just toss you to the side like that.

He’s sad that you don’t talk to him much, and with the house rival it’s even worse as Hermione would just drag you from your own brother. Making Draco sneer at her. 

As of now that students are in the courtyard, mattheo noticed something about you. And he just had to say it out loud.

“Hey, that girl kinda looks like you Draco.” Mattheo says looking at you from afar. Draco looks over to see you and Harry smiling at each other. Draco’s eyes narrow with protectiveness. “What is pottah doing with her?!” Draco knew you and his rival was close, but not that close. Theodore raised a brow, “what? You like her or something?” Draco immediately gagged, and chocked on his spit.

“WHAT?! Bloody heavens no…she’s my sister.” He says. Immediately his friends stood there shook.

Congratulations! You got yourself Slytherin bodyguards. Despite the house rivalry they love you like a little sister. Since you are their friend’s little twin sister, they deem you worthy of hanging out with them.

Literally you gained a slight respect as you are the only gryffindor they like.

But it comes with cons and pros 💀

The cons are that they are overprotective of you when a guy is asking you out. Don’t matter what house the dude is in. You better believe mattheo is the one claiming he is your boyfriend to make the dude leave you alone while the rest is behind him as if this dude is the ring leader💀💀 please get mattheo before he breaks the dude’s face.

The pros are that they are comfortable with treating you as one of them. They kinda light up on the slander of Gryffindors for your sake. They give you your space when you need it. And they certainly are the best body guards in parties.

Sometimes Draco will treat you as if you were sorted into Slytherin. The pooor boy is still in denial that his beloved sister is a disgusting lion. He loves you dearly but he cannot believe that the hat made a simple mistake.

I feel like he would blame the hat and not on you.

Draco definitely is overprotective and says to his friends (mostly mattheo) to not even try to romance you.

A clear headcannon that he doesn’t want you to date Harry or Ron, or just any Weasley at that point.

You two tell each other the house password so you two can check up on each other

Draco hates to admit he finds your presence most comforting than your own parents.

Though out all this, yes your father is disappointed that you are a Gryffindor and doesn’t know what to do with you. Draco is still there for you. You are his sister. His sister that comforts him and he comforts you back.

At the end of the world, you are his lovable sister.

[grimm-writings]

HI IT'S EAVESDROP ANON YOU GAVE ME AN IDEA what if izutsumi and reader faced the succubi together, and izu sees that one of reader's succubi looks like chilchuck !! maybe she promises to keep it a secret, but also talks to reader about it? bonus points if izu and reader have a sort of unspoken mother/daughter relationship :')

to the grave

…ft! chilchuck x fem! reader, izutsumi & reader

…tags! headcanon format, slight suggestive points, motherly reader

…wc! 623

…notes! give it up for One Whole Request Complete omfg. sorry for how short it is eavesdrop anon it’s been a rough few weeks for me 🫶 this is absolutely not my best work, but i did what i could!

“Come on… I know you always thought about how I’d look underneath you.”

Hearing the words come from his mouth renders you still.  It’s his face, his voice, yet completely wrong.

You had thought he had somehow recovered and came back to help you, but of course it isn’t as easy as it appeared.

You’re lucky to have Izutsumi with you.  If it weren’t for her pushing you out of the way to claw at the succubus, you probably would have dropped all pretence and leaned down to where you had Chilchuck – or the succubus, rather – pinned to the floor to kiss.

Still, you can’t miss the look of absolute disbelief she gives you.

Silence fills the air as the succubus is reduced to nothing more than slob on the floor.  You refuse to look at what, to you, is eerily similar to Chilchuck’s visage.  Disturbingly so.  For just a second, you consider reaching out to it (him?) again.  However, Izutsumi is quick to swat you away. “Hey, we have a mob incoming,” she tells you.  You are about to retort, interrogating if she even felt remorse for hurting someone that looks like your ally, but Izutsumi’s quick to interrupt.  “We’ll discuss this later.” She leaves your side.  Preparing your weapon with a deep breath, you prepare to fight off the waves of succubi ahead.

It’s only when you and Izutsumi assemble all the bodies of your allies does she finally speak up.

She really isn’t interested in the ‘hot gossip’ like Marcille would be.  In her own rough way, Izutsumi is more just expressing worry for you.

She doesn’t overall react to the fact it’s Chilchuck that you saw.  It was just sort of an “Oh!” before she remembered that this succubus will steal your life force.

“So, you just wanted to protect me?” At your conclusion, Izutsumi growls.  She faces away from you as she drags over a succubus to drain into Senshi’s pot. “When you put it like that,” she grumbles, “it makes it sound all virtuous and sappy.” You laugh, reaching over to pat Izutsumi’s head.  “I appreciate it very much, thank you Izutsumi.” Maybe it’s the fact she just had to confront this ‘mother’ the succubi took the form of, but the cat girl feels at ease when you show affection to her.  She sighs, giving up on the argument quicker than she normally would.

That is to say… she wouldn’t not tease you.

She’d hand you some of the milk, poured into a bowl.  “Here, for Chilchuck.”

Your face contorts in confusion.  “Why me?”

“So you can get all close and intimate and stuff.”

“Izutsumi.”

She wants to support you both!  She just… doesn’t really care.

The party has woken up, and by now Marcille has spoken up, “what were your succubi like?  Laios?  Oh, what about yours?” She turns to you, her green eyes glimmering with curiosity.  Cheeks and tip of her ears flushed, it’s hard to miss what exactly she’s on about. You sheepishly laugh anyway, your mind recalling the lowered eyelids, the words spoken to you by the succubus.  “I don’t know if I…” “Hey, don’t pressure her to say things like that.” Chilchuck’s voice cuts through the air, and makes you jump.  He’s at your side, shooing Marcille away.  “That stuff’s usually private for a reason.  If she wants to say, she will.” It doesn’t go unnoticed how Chilchuck doesn’t say a word when Marcille instead asks Laios for details on his succubus, though. Though you should be glad Izutsumi isn’t awake to see this.  If she was, she’d be rolling her eyes and bemoaning how nauseating the pining was to herself.  So, maybe taking things to the grave is for the better.

[saturnscafe]

͙˚ ༘✶Le Pew | Skunk Hybrid (GN Reader)

Smut Below

A/N: did I write this after remembering Pepe Le pew? Yes. Yes I did. 😂 Hence the tittle. I wrote this in a daze so bear with me if there’s any mistakes lol.

Skunk hybrid hating humans because they always run away from him. He doesn’t understand why, I mean he does. However he doesn’t understand why they wouldn’t give him a chance. So when he was injured and you found him he was shocked that you didn’t care.

He just stared at you trying to figure out when you’d run, or when you’d say something about his smell. When you patched him up just smiling at him he was entranced with you. Blurting out quick and loudly “Will you be my mate” he didn’t even know where that came from. Neither did you but you’d be lying to yourself if he wasn’t handsome.

That sleek black hair with a small stripe of white. The small scar that went up the side of his cheek, and not to mention how tall he was.

“How about a date first?” You said smiling at him and he thought he could melt right then. He scattered trying to plan the best date for you. He was always a super confident man but you had him feeling like a middle schooler getting ready for his first date. You suggested just a relaxing day at your place, just hanging out and getting to know each other one on one.

When he came knocking on your door the smell of strong cologne washed over you. It was like he bathed himself in it. He was scared you’d change your mind if he smelled. So he drowned himself in a whole bottle of the stuff. You couldn’t help but laugh it just came tumbling out. “Did you use the whole bottle?” You teased. His ears folding down to his head like he did something wrong. “Most humans..” he started to say before you cut him off. “I grew up around skunks, I don’t mind the smell. Quite frankly I don’t even smell it anymore.

His eyes lit up, asking you so many questions as to why. After telling him your father was a vet helping any animal in need. You told him about how he’d made it a mission to help any hybrid that wasn’t treated well. Always opening his home to skunks, snakes, spiders and many more that didn’t meet the “cute” standard.

You both chatted all night, about everything and anything. He’d open up about how he honestly hated humans because how they treated him like the plague. You reassured him that, that wasn’t the case with you. That you knew many people who just loved his kind. The night turned into you both curled on the couch at 1am watching movies.

He felt really comfortable with you, his confidence oozing back. His hand found its way under your chin pulling you into a sweet longing kiss. Your eyes fluttered close taking in how gentle he was. The kiss turned into hands pulling at each other’s clothes. Lips kissing at any part of skin they could find. When he slipped into you it his head fell backwards taking in the feeling of your warm walls. The smell of the cologne finally had faded away, and you could smell his natural musky sent. His smell was different though almost like it was a sort of pheromone. It was driving you crazy.

His cock hit the back of your walls, nails digging into one another as trails of curses left both of you. His eyes found yours making his hips stutter he felt like he was in love. He leaned down kissing you passionately as both of you reached your climaxes hot ropes of cum spirting into you. His arms wrapped around you holding you close as he possibly could. Like you’d float away if he didn’t. He broke the waves of breaths “so does this mean you’ll be my mate?” He said his fluffy tail slowly moving behind him. “I’d be honored” you replied.

People couldn’t grasp why you’d choose to be with a skunk hybrid. They didn’t see him like you did which was honestly their loss. With your love and support he became even more confident. Talking to other humans and finding people who liked him for him. Even meeting your father who absolutely adored him.

[fireflyinks]

I have an idea for a request :) 💗 sorry if this is long but what if hamzah did one of the solo out of character podcasts and then he invited y/n but then the sexual/romantic tension between them so they stop filming to do other stuff (can be the deed if you want to take a smut route or just making out or being cuddly for a fluffy route!) or maybe 🫣 they forget about the camera and accidentally capture stuff on camera

special guest

hamzah x reader smut

contains : smut, oral sex (both giving and receiving), no p in v, use of y/n, cursing, sort of exhibition (they record themselves but don’t post it), munch!hamzah

a/n : I LOVE THIS SM, munch!hamzah is my new favorite thing to write, i’m obsessed. anon you’re literally a genius. thank you so much for the support on all of my hamzah posts, i love you alllll

18+ MINORS DNI

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

Hamzah and I had been friends for a couple of years. Both of us had YouTube channels and lived near one another so we would hang often. There was an obvious connection between us, but Hamzah nor I were bold enough to point it out. The two of us simply enjoyed dancing around the face that we obviously had mutual feelings for one another.

I sat on my couch, editing my latest video when I felt my phone buzz beside me. I picked it up, reading “hamzah” spread across my screen and a .5 picture I’d taken of him. I swiped right to answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey Y/n. Are you busy?”

I shook my head as if he could see me, “No, what’s up?”

“Well, Martin is busy today and can’t record for our podcast, so I was wondering if you’d want to come record with me. Like a ‘special guest’ type thing?”

I thought for a moment. I hadn’t seen him in a while just because the two of us had busy, and viewers loved it when we made content together. We actually got shipped a lot, but Hamzah always ignored it, and I never brought it up. Part of me was glad that even the fans noticed that there was something between us.

“Yeah, why not? That sounds fun, when do you want me to come over?”

Hamzah took a beat before answering. “You could come over now, and afterwards we could order dinner or something, yeah? You’ll have to come to Martin’s apartment because that’s where we film, it’s not too far from mine. I’ll send you the address.”

“I’m on my way, see ya in a second.”

“Thanks, y/n, drive safe.” He hung up.

My heart fluttered at his last comment.

I went to my room and quickly put on something sort of presentable. The star of my outfit was none other then a small denim miniskirt.

The drive to Martin’s house was only about ten minutes, but it felt like an eternity. I was way more excited about spending time was Hamzah than I should’ve been.

Once I arrived at the apartment, I knocked on the door. I was greeted immediately by Hamzah. I couldn’t help but noticed as he looked me up and down once he’d opened the door, a small grin on his lips.

“Hey!” He said, pulling me into a hug. It surprised me a bit but Hamzah was always very affectionate with me, even as a friend. He’d play with strands of my hair on late nights after filming when we’d sit and talk about pretty much anything, and would always grab my hand when leading me places.

“Hi” I smiled into his shoulder right before he let go.

“I have everything get up in here.” Like clockwork, he took my hand and led me through Martin’s apartment. I looked around, seeing the scenes that had made appearances in many of Hamzah and Martin’s videos.

“So…” He sat down on the couch, motioning for me to sit to his right, “it’s going to real casual, just like it is with Martin. I might ask you a couple questions about your channel, if you want me to.”

I shrugged, “I’m fine with anything, just happy I could help you out.”

Hamzah smiled, handing me Martin’s microphone and looking at the camera. “Well, are you ready?”

I nodded, and he got up and began recording.

“You gotta just sit here for a second awkwardly while the intro music plays.”

A few seconds went by as we tried not to laugh at the silence. I couldn’t help but notice how his eyes flicked down to my thighs, exposed by my mini skirt, every few seconds.

“Hey guys, today I’m here with someone who is not Martin.”

Hamzah motioned to me. I lifted my hand and gave the camera small wave.

“Hi there, I’m y/n.”

“Martin decided to skip recording today to go roller skating with Mandy.”

I giggled, “Well, I think they sort of trapped you into recording without them so you wouldn’t third wheel them for once.”

Hamzah rolled his eyes. We went on and on, talking about how much better I am at rolling skating than Hamzah is, how ice skating isn’t real and it’s all just an illusion because neither of us can even stand up on the ice, and after about 40 minutes, somehow the topic of none other than Ice Spice.

“Munch is an absolute banger, but I’ve never met a dude that actually enjoyed eating it.”

Hamzah furrowed his eyebrows, “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” I went on, “like most of them do it but they don’t like it, which makes it awkward. Like I’m yet to meet a dude that actually gets pleasure out of it too.”

There was a slight pause in the conversation, and I was scared I had made him uncomfortable.

“You’re talking to one right now.”

My cheeks flushed as his comment sunk it. I couldn’t respond, no words would come out of my mouth.

“Sorry,” he looked at me worried, “I totally just made it awkward.”

“Nah,” I shook my head, desperately. My heart thumped as I looked back at him. Maybe I wasn’t delusional about our obvious connection. Why in the world would he make a comment like that if he didn’t mean it in a flirty manner? “it’s okay, really.”

I couldn’t get the thought out of my head. Hamzah’s mouth on my heat, suckling on it like it was his last meal, rubbing my clit with his thumb. I bit my lip. The way he was looking at me showed that he was possibly imagining it too.

He shifted on the couch, looking at me desperately.

“I could show you, if you want.”

I nodded dumbly.

“Please.”

Hamzah leaned in, slowly pressing his lips onto mine. He slowly worked his mouth on mine, growing more and more passionate.

His mouth moved down my body, trailing down my neck. He paused, slipping my shirt and skirt off my body and taking a moment to stare at my breasts.

“God, you’re so beautiful, you know that?” Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. “I was so distracted, I couldn’t stop staring at you.”

He rubbed my thighs, looking down at them. It’s like he was mesmerized. “These thighs are so pretty. I couldn’t stop imagining them spread for me.”

Hamzah’s boldness surprised me, but I couldn’t say that I didn’t enjoy his praises. No matter how lewd they were.

“Can I take these off?” He curled his index finger into the band of my panties.

“Yes” I breathed out, shyly.

Hamzah chuckled to himself, “You’re so cute.”

He pulled my panties off of me, spreading my legs and looking down at my aching heat. Leaning down, he slowly kissed my core. I whimpered at the feeling.

“Tell me you want it.”

I bit my lip, looking down at him with pleading eyes. “I want it. I want it so fucking bad, Hamzah.”

Without further discussion, he dove down into my aching heat, swirling his tounge through the folds. I took his hat of his head with shaky hands and ran my fingers through his curls.

He looked up at me for a moment.

“Do you feel good?” He said quickly, wasting no time to get back to his meal.

“Yes! Yes! So good.” I moaned, my legs involuntarily closing in on his head. His hands held them back in place, spread wide for him to have the fullest access.

“You taste so damn good.” He groaned out. It was entertaining, watching how much he genuinely enjoyed this. He moved his mouth like it was his last meal. I’d never felt this much pleasure just from being eaten out, and it was so sweet.

My brain felt all fuzzy from the way his tounge worked through the folds of my heat perfectly, finding all of the sensitive places and causing my legs to shake under his hold.

“Fuck- I’m gonna cum.” I threw my head back, pure pleasure filling my head as I let out breathy moans.

“Go ahead, cum for me. Cum in my mouth, baby.”

I let myself release on his tounge, my body writhing against his working mouth.

After a few seconds, he pulled away, looking up at me with hopeful eyes, almost like he’d expected me to have had a bad experience.

I didn’t. I had the complete opposite; I couldn’t stop thinking about Hamzah’s tounge.

“Fucking wow.” Is all I could manage to get out.

“Was it good?” He asked.

“More than good. That was… can I please return the favor?”

Hamzah was quick to shake his head, “You really don’t have to. I know most girls don’t like to, and I don’t expect anything in return.”

I genuinely couldn’t let myself live knowing that I didn’t repay Hamzah back after he had me seeing stars.

“No, please, I really want to.”

I couldn’t lie, I’d imagined Hamzah’s cock plenty of times. I’d wondered how big it was, what it looked like, how it would feel in my mouth, what he was like in bed, pretty much everything. But now that I might finally get it, I felt more giddy than ever.

Hamzah slowly nodded, “Alright, go ahead.”

I reached down to his jeans, unbuttoning them as he helped me pull them off his legs, followed by his boxers. His member slapped his stomach, and it surprised me just how hard he was solely from eating out.

It was… big to say the least.

I slowly bottomed him out in my mouth, gagging slightly. He groaned, keeping his eyes on me. I bobbed my head, feeling him hit the back of my throat over and over again.

“Fuck, y/n, just like that.”

I continued these motions, occasionally pulling him out of my mouth and leaving small kitten licks on the tip. He was fighting the urge to throw his head back into the sofa, continuing to keep his eyes glued to me. He breathed out shaky praises to me.

“You’re so good at this, fuck. I- I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum in my mouth… please.” I begged, sucking his faster.

He moaned before filling my mouth with his loud. I swallowed it all before taking him out of my mouth, looking up at him shyly.

“Fuck… that was amazing.”

I giggled as we looked at each other for a few moments. It was crazy, the very things I’d been fantasizing about coming true, all because of a podcast episode.

Fuck. A podcast episode.

My eyes darted over to the recording camera, my cheeks flushing. Hamzah was still looking at me, almost in a hypnotic state.

“Hamzah…” I tried to grab his attention, he hummed in response. “The camera…”

His eyes widened as he looked over, coming to the same realization that I had.

“Fuck- sorry.” He got up, pulling his boxers on and walking over to the camera. “I’m deleting all the footage. You can check afterwards if you want. Recording us really wasn’t my intention.”

He was panicking, his fingers fumbling with the cameras buttons.

“Hamzah… relax. It’s okay. You- nevermind.”

Hamzah looks over to me, his eyebrows raised in amusement. “I what?”

“You can keep the recording if you want.” It felt so lewd to say, but I meant it. It was sort of hot, knowing he had that footage of us and could watch it anytime.

He smirked, looking down at the camera and nodding. “Alright… I will.”

I blushed, “Now can we get that food that you promised me?”

Hamzah chuckled, grabbing his phone.

It was strange, a couple of seconds ago we were performing such lewd acts for a camera we’d forgot was recording, and now we were arguing about whether we should get chinese or mexican take out.

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Not Allowed

Pairing: Cop!Bucky Barnes x Receptionist!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: bad date angst, jealous bucky

Summary: You and Bucky always flirt with each other while at work but it never goes anywhere like you'd hope. You accept a date with another man, causing Bucky to be jealous. He's a cop who is jealous. Nothing will go wrong, right?

Squares Filled: kink: pet names (2021) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You walk through the double doors with a smile on your face because today is another day. You’re alive and that’s the best kind of day. You work for the local police department as their receptionist. You’re the first thing people see when they come in so you have to be on your best behavior.

You set your things down on your desk and quickly get settled in. Besides the Captain, you’re the first one in the building. Every officer that comes in, you greet them with a smile as you log into your computer.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Officer Wilson says when he comes in. He always calls you that since he's often told you how he thinks of you like a little sister. “How was your weekend?”

“Too short,” you chuckle. “Did Sarah get into that college?”

“Yeah, she got the acceptance letter yesterday.”

“Oh, I’m so happy for her!” you grin.

“Yeah, I’ll tell her to give you a call.”

Sam taps your desk twice and leaves to go to his own. A few more officers come in until the one you’ve been waiting for walks in confidently. Your heart starts to race because you have a huge crush on him. He kind of knows it but doesn't outright call you out on it.

“There she is,” Bucky smiles and leans on your desk.

“Officer Barnes, it’s good to see you.”

“Doll, you know you can call me Bucky.”

He knows exactly what those pet names do to you. After a night of drinking together, you let it slip that your kink is pet names, and doll happened to be your favorite. Like him, you won’t call him out on it.

“I know. How was your weekend?”

“Better if you were there with me,” he flirts.

“Oh, Bucky,” you chuckle nervously. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yeah, I do. I was wishing, ‘Man, don’t I wish Y/N was here with me? I guess I have to drink alone’.”

“You know what alcohol does to me.”

“Yeah, I do,” he smirks. “You look cute today. That dress compliments you.”

“A compliment. I might swoon,” you joke even though your cheeks are hot.

“As long as it’s in my arms, I don’t care.”

“Don’t you have a job to get to, Officer Barnes?”

“Yeah, but I’d rather stay here and talk to you.”

“You might get fired.”

“It’s worth it,” he winks. “Here’s your coffee.”

He sets your favorite coffee order next to your keyboard and walks away. That’s the extent of your relationship with Bucky. You two flirt constantly but nothing ever comes of it. It’s comfortable. Why leave something when you’re comfortable being there? Do you wish you were something more? Of course. Do you think he’s going to man up and take it to that next level? Not unless something threatening happened like him realizing if he doesn’t do it soon, he’d lose you.

Some of what your work includes is printing off documents for the other officers, inputting things into evidence before they get shipped off there, and sorting through the files regarding the people they have locked up in the holding cells or interrogation rooms. You already have a list of things to print out and file, but you look for Bucky’s name first.

After printing off what he needs, you get up and personally hand this to him. There is a mailbox for the officers that you’re supposed to put in, but you like visiting his desk. He has a picture of you and him printed out and placed next to his computer that you look at every time you visit.

“Here are the papers you asked for,” you smile.

“Thanks, doll,” he grins and grabs them from you, intentionally brushing his fingers against yours.

You go back to your desk to finish your work, and you come across two people who need stuff put into evidence. One of them sent it over a couple of hours ago, and the other one is from Bucky. You immediately click on his name to get what he needs first before looking at the other one.

“Now that is bullshit,” you hear from behind you.

You jump and turn to see Sam standing there with a half-smile on his face.

“What are you doing? You scared me!”

“I sent you evidence hours ago and Bucky sent you it just now, and he’s the one you pick first?”

“I--”

You don’t have any words for that.

“When are you two gonna fuck?”

“Sam Wilson!” you gasp.

“What? It’s a valid question. I should ask him that.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“I’m rooting for you two no matter how painful the slow burn is,” he chuckles and walks away.

It takes half an hour to get the idea of you and Bucky fucking for you to do your job right. Once you’re in the groove of things, the door opens and an attractive man walks in.

“Can I help you?” you ask with a smile.

“Yeah, I’m here for my brother. He’s in lock up.”

“Okay, what’s his name and date of birth?”

“James Farley. 04/05/1986.”

“Your name?”

“Brandon Farley.”

“Okay, I see your brother here. It looks like--”

“I’m sorry, but I have to tell you how beautiful you are.”

“Oh, thank you,” you blush.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

“No, but--”

“Great. Can I take you out?”

“You can see how this is inappropriate, right?”

“Yeah, but you like it,” he grins. “So, can I take you out?”

There’s a certain charm about him that you find endearing maybe because he reminds you of Bucky. Being put on the spot like that is enough to make you freeze up, so you say the one thing that won’t cause conflict.

“Yes.”

“Here’s my number.”

He grabs your hand and writes his number on it so that it won’t come off with one scrub.

“I have sticky notes!”

“This is better. Now you won’t lose it.”

“Go take a seat. Someone will be with you shortly to bring you to your brother.”

“Thanks,” he winks and walks to the waiting room.

You’re about to get up and wash off the number when you notice Bucky standing in the doorway that leads into the precinct.

“Did I hear that right?”

“What?”

“You have a date?”

“Yeah, he asked me out,” you stutter. Bucky looks pissed as if you just told him you killed someone. “Why do you look angry?”

“Nothing. No reason.”

Bucky walks off angrily leaving you confused. He avoids you like the plague for the rest of the day. He isn’t at his desk when you drop off paperwork, and he’s not there to walk you to your car when you get off. He’s supposed to get off an hour before you do, but he stays after not on the clock to make sure you get to your car safely.

This time, he didn’t.

The next day, Bucky is already at work when you arrive. There is no coffee on your desk, either, and you’re feeling guilty for accepting a date with someone else. Is that why he’s acting this way? Sam walks in drinking an energy drink when you stop him.

“Hey, what’s going on with Bucky?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No, what did I do?”

“You accepted a date from someone else.”

You knew it. Why is he bigging out?

“So?”

“Have you not been here for the past two years? You two flirt like crazy.”

“No, he’s just being friendly.”

“You won’t get it until you do,” Sam shakes his head and walks off.

The date with Brandon comes sooner than you hoped. He picks you up in a fancy car and takes you to a fancy restaurant that you could never afford. He smooth-talks the hostess to get him a table by the window so he can have a view while he eats. The waitress brings by a drinks menu but he already orders what you two are going to drink.

“Trust me, you’re going to love this,” he winks at you.

“Okay,” you say and fiddle with your fingers underneath the table. “You know what I do for work. What do you do for work?”

You shouldn’t have asked him that.

“I work in the telecommunications sector. You know that big building in the city? That’s mine. It’s funny. I got all my parents’ money when they died and instead of using that money for myself, I decided to invest in a small company that turned out to give me millions.” You open your mouth to speak but he continues talking. “Can you imagine that? This small company that wasn’t going to go anywhere if it weren't for me. I’m like their hero. They eventually sold their part to me, and I’ve been thriving ever since.”

Once he got to talking about his job, he hasn’t shut up about it since. He’s very arrogant and rude but that doesn’t seem to stop him. As soon as the drinks come, you greedily take yours and down it without caring what it is.

“Whoa, doll, calm down. I don’t need to haul you to the car at the end of the night. You should pace yourself.”

No one can call me that but Bucky. Oh, Bucky. You shouldn’t have said yes to this man. He only asked you out to hear himself talk. You want this date to end so you pretend to be interested in what he has to say. Even when the date is over and he’s driving you home, he won’t shut up. His voice mixed with alcohol is starting to make your head throb.

About halfway to your house, you see red and blue lights behind you.

This better not be him, you think to yourself. Brandon pulls the car over obediently and waits for the officer to approach him. You look through the mirror to see the outline of the officer and recognize it immediately. He better not. I swear to God… Instead of walking to the driver’s side door, Bucky walks over to your door and leans down so only you can see him.

“Step out of the vehicle, please.”

“No.”

Bucky takes a deep breath to calm himself down. He leans in so close that you can smell his delicious cologne. That makes your head spin.

“I’ll repeat myself. Step out of the car.”

“Or what? You’re gonna drag me out?”

“Don’t tempt me, doll,” he says so only you can hear it.

“Is there a problem, Officer?” Brandon asks.

“Yes. You have a busted taillight.”

“Fuck! You’ve got to be joking, sir.”

“No, sir, I’m not.”

“Shit. Officer, I can promise you I keep this car in the utmost pristine condition.”

“Not today, buddy. That’s a ticket.”

Bucky takes out his pad and writes Brandon a hefty ticket for a broken taillight you’re not sure is even broken.

“Fuck!” Brandon turns to you without guilt on his face. “Look, do you mind if I drop you off right here? Your house is only down the road. You can get there from here, right?”

Your mouth drops open in shock.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take her home,” Bucky offers.

“Thank you. I’ll call you.”

You don’t say anything as you get out of the car. Bucky walks you to the passenger side of his cruiser. You look at the taillights of Brandon’s car and notice they’re both working properly.

“What the fuck, Bucky?” you yell when he gets in the driver’s seat. “His taillights are broken! You can’t just do that. That’s illegal!”

“He’ll fight against it, and I’ll drop the charges,” he shrugs.

“You’re un-fucking-believable. We were actually having a good time,” you lie.

“No, you weren't,” he laughs.

“How do you know that?”

“It’s written all over your face. Your eyes don’t have the usual light.” Bucky pulls onto the road and heads in the direction of your house. “I don’t know why you would accept the date in the first place.”

“Because at least he had the fucking balls to ask me.”

That puts the entire car ride into a tense silence. He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the ride home. He pulls up to your place but instead of letting you get out first, he gets out and walks over to your side of the car. He opens the door but doesn't let you leave the car. He leans into the car, grabs your chin, and kisses you. You’re shocked but you won’t pull away from him. Both your lips move in harmony against one another, and he slides his tongue into your mouth to show you he means business.

“You’re not allowed to see other men.”

“Why not?” you ask, breathlessly.

“Because you’re mine now and I’m not gonna let you go.” This brings a smile to your face. He lets you get out, and when you pass by him, he taps your ass lightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Doll.”

Yes, you will.

x

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[ju-nebugg]

moments from trb that make me lose my mind (pt. 2)

- “once your balls drop, that beard’ll come in great. like a fucking rug. you eat soup, it’ll filter out the potatoes. terrier style. do you have hair on your legs? i’ve never noticed.” ronan lynch i love you so much

- ronan panicking and letting the mask slip when gansey was staring down that wasp

- ronan being jealous that gansey was leaving henrietta with adam and saying “do you not want me to come” and gansey responding with “i would take all of you anywhere with me”

- “the sky as blue as death above him” like WHAT

- “i didn’t realize that ‘midget’ was the adam parrish type” ronan your yearning is showing

- gansey’s smile being “complicated” when he notices adam and blue holding hands

- “…blue’s dress had gotten hitched up and gansey could see a long, slender triangle of her thigh. adam’s hand was braced a few inches away on the seat, knuckles pale with his hatred of flying. there was nothing particularly intimate about the way they sat, but something about the scene made gansey feel strange, like he’d heard an unpleasant statement and later forgotten everything about the words but the way they had made him feel.” (long quote i know but holy fucking shit)

- obligatory “i’m always straight.” “oh, man, that’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told.”

- gansey doing his little indie film main character scream to god in a field

- gansey pointing at people. so much pointing. what a dork. i love him so much

- also his vocabulary. what a NERD <333333

- ronan pissing all over the state of virginia

- gansey calling blue “the table everyone wants at starbucks”

- “i just fed chainsaw but she’ll need it again.” “this,” gansey replied, “is precisely why i didn’t want to have a baby with you.”

- adam’s immediate thought when holding blue’s hand is to worry about crushing her fingers :(

- ronan forgetting to be “cool or surly” when translating cabeswater’s latin, and apologizing over and over again good lord and gansey only responding with “it’s okay, you’re doing really well”

- the whole “coincidence because it wasn’t” trend

- gansey being SO NERVOUS to ask blue to hang out at the church, and then sounding “fourteen shades brighter” when she accepts

- gansey’s arms being super fucking ripped from rowing and blue Noticing

- “aquamarine is a wonderful color, and i won’t be made to feel bad for wearing it”

- “gansey’s voice, when he replied, was a little rough. ‘well, if you killed adam, i’d be quite upset.’”

- “on the inside, he sort of wished he looked more like the camaro. which was to say, more like adam.”

- gansey planning out his “cunning thing to say to blue when he saw her next”

- ronan walking in on adam and blue flirting and immediately shoving chainsaw in their faces. hm.

- “no matter how hard he tried, he kept becoming a gansey”

- “out of the blue?” “i’d prefer if you didn’t use that expression.”

- BUTTERNUT

- blue being reluctantly attracted to gansey’s glasses

- ronan trying so hard to give adam an excuse not to go home, and then going absolutely apeshit when adam gets hurt

- neeve’s voice sounding like a “computerized voicemail menu” (can you tell i’m in love with maggie’s descriptors)

- “gansey was just a guy with a lot of stuff and a hole inside him that chewed away more of his heart every year.” oh god

- ronan carrying all of adam’s possessions into monmouth on his back

- gansey saying things like “excelsior” and “yee haw” for no one but himself

- gansey being miserable and blue liking him better that way

- ‘“crushed and broken,” gansey said. “just the way women like ‘em.”’ correct!

- “cabeswater was just as literal as ronan was” HMMMMMMMMM CURIOUS

- ronan writing “remembered” on the red mustang and walking away without a word shut UPPPPPP

- ganseys first question after adam sacrifices himself being “was i so awful?”

- “they didn’t even have the authority to choose an alcoholic beverage. they couldn’t be deciding who deserved to live or die.”

(pt. 1)

as soon as i can stumble my way to a bookstore, dream thieves will be annotated to hell and back. expect more yelling very soon <3