#and when he's actually funny he does it without even trying

[dollishmehrayan]

# “THE WOMAN WAS TOO STUNNED TO SPEAK…” ── .✦ ( batboys w an unhinged!reader and blunt!reader )

a/n: this is from my little brain of mine , and I like to honor it for @kyriakis anywhoo I’m back and omg 1k?! Alsoo guys dw! I’m gonna do the event tomorrow && I’m gonna pick out some prompts I have organized, so i didn't forget okay but i just got a lot of DMs asking when I’m gonna do it for you guyss so yeah it’s gonna be tomorrow since I’m gonna re-edit + add some ideas of your guys votes!! Tags: (batboys x unhinged!reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

He’s always caught off guard but loves it. Your bluntness is a breath of fresh air for Dick, who’s so used to diplomatic conversations. You say whatever’s on your mind with zero filter, and he’s like, “Oh, wow. Okay. I respect it.”

Hates it when you don’t hold back with him. He’s used to being the charming, funny guy who makes everyone laugh, but you hit him with a “That was dumb, don’t do that again” and his brain short circuits for a second. “You can’t just say that!” “Why not?”

Finds it hilarious when you wreck other people’s egos. You have zero time for anyone’s nonsense, and when someone messes up, you let them know. Dick’s in the background, trying not to laugh. “Do you not think before you speak?!…” He’s always acts so shocked but hey, he’s kinda enjoying it unless it’s aimed at him. (He can’t fight verbally for the life of him without saying some cringe shit)

Doesn’t even try to change you. Dick knows what he’s getting into, and he loves you for it. He’s never going to ask you to ‘tone it down.’ He actually finds your unapologetic attitude pretty hot.

He’s 50% worried you’ll get into trouble, 50% impressed. But in the end, he’ll always back you up, saying, “She’s just honest. Get used to it.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Finally, someone who speaks his language. Jason lives for the fact that you don’t care what people think. He loves how blunt you are, especially when you cut through the BS with the precision of a sharp knife.

Gets protective when people try to push your boundaries. If someone dares disrespect you, Jason’s the first one to step in. “You’ve got a problem with her? You’ve got a problem with me.”, “Jason that was so fucking cringey..”

Appreciates that you don't sugarcoat things for him. You’ll tell him exactly how it is, whether it’s about his attitude or a bad decision he made, and he respects it, it’s like the tt sound where “that’s when it hit me, it was the best idea I ever had..” but like this: “Not gonna lie, that was a terrible plan, Jay,” and he’ll just nod. “Fair.”

You guys have the most chaotic, weirdest conversations. It’s a mix of witty banter, ridiculous one-liners, and deadpan sarcasm. Other people can’t even keep up with the energy.

The idea of dating a ‘good girl’ never appealed to him anyway. He thrives off your unhinged energy. You’re unpredictable, and it keeps him on his toes, which he loves. “Yeah, you’re definitely not boring.” (Although the thing is he does love innocent people, like if you’re like gen clueless he wants preserve your innocence.)

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Tim’s brain can’t keep up with you. Your blunt, no-nonsense attitude constantly makes him blink in confusion. One minute you’re casually roasting someone, and the next, you’re giving a straight-up critique of his latest plan. He’s learning that he can’t outthink you.

He admires your unapologetic honesty. Tim has a lot of internalized doubts, so watching you casually reject anyone’s judgment is a nice contrast. You don’t apologize for your thoughts, and it’s something he secretly admires.

Constantly second-guesses himself around you. Your sharp tongue makes him want to be as confident as you. He gets nervous about saying anything that might sound soft, so when he stumbles, you’re like, “What was that? I swear you just whispered something.” And he’ll blush hard, muttering an apology.

You both have a sarcastic sense of humor that others don’t quite get. You say something outrageous, and Tim will respond with the driest remark possible. People in the room often wonder if you two are joking or just genuinely a bit rude.

Not scared to call him out. When Tim’s too nice, you’ll be like, “You need to stop letting people walk all over you. Grow some teeth.” Tim won’t admit it, but that does motivate him to be a little bolder.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Damian is a bit taken aback at first. He’s used to people being respectful or like seeing him as kinda a role model, so when you come out with a “That’s dumb, don’t even talk to me right now,” he’s not sure how to handle it. He will stand there, blinking, while processing your bluntness. (He’s too stunned to speak 😞)

Genuinely respects your forthrightness, though. “I’ll admit, I have never met someone so… honest.” He starts respecting you even more, thinking you’re someone he can’t manipulate or charm easily.

Loves that you’re as stubborn as he is. If you’re determined about something, there’s no changing your mind. You’ll fight for your opinions even if it gets you into a heated debate. And Damian’s right there with you, arguing like it’s the most fun thing in the world.

Tries to match your bluntness. “You talk too much,” he says one day, and you immediately reply, “And yet, here you are, listening to every word I say.” Damian actually pauses for a second, impressed. “Right..”

Loves how you’ll shut down his critics with zero hesitation. Someone says something disrespectful to him, and you’ll be the first to shoot back, “He doesn’t need your advice, trust me.” He’ll give you a proud little smirk. “I like the way you handle things.”

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

At first, Bruce is a bit disconcerted by your bluntness. Bruce’s the kind of guy who expects people to be formal and classy, and you just come in with “This entire meeting is a waste of my time. I don’t care about any of this.” He blinks, then quietly admires your bravery.

Totally respects your unfiltered honesty. Bruce has had enough of the world’s games, so when you don’t bother to pretend or hold anything back, it’s like a breath of fresh air for him.

Secretly loves when you don’t play nice." He knows you're not afraid of saying what you think, and when you call him out on his brooding or overly protective behavior, he listens. “You’re right. I’m sorry for not trusting you more.” (He totally doesn’t have a tracker on your hair clip..🥰)

You both have moments of pure savage honesty that no one else gets. There’s no need for filters, and you’ll both exchange one-liners so dry that it leaves everyone else in the room confused.

Finds it endearing when you make his plans more interesting. “This is ridiculous. Why are we doing this again?” You snap at him in a room full of his board members, and he just gives you a look that says, “I’m never apologizing for you.”

[httpuckdrop]

boyfriend? – ws2

will gets possessive (jealous) when seeing you with other guys.

pairing: will smith x friend!reader

genre: fluff, college!au

word count: 760

warnings: mentions of alcohol

author's note: been in SUCH a will mood recently, it's not even funny. he's just so !!!! it's not my fault actually :( anyways have this little blurb, hope u enjoy <3

will hates this.

he doesn't hate parties per se, just this specific one. he does think the party is good; the music is great, a lot of his friends are here, not too calm yet not too crazy. but he hates it mainly because no matter what he does, what room of the apartment he moves into or what classmate he chats to, he always ends up catching you in the corner of his eye.

looking at you is definitely not something will dislikes – on the contrary, he could spend the rest of his life staring at you without feeling bored for even a second. that's how beautiful you are to him.

but seeing you get flirted with and seeing people exploit the fact that you've had more than your share of the drinks table? he hates that.

he tries to handle it by moving along, finding new groups to join and new subjects to talk about to get his mind off you. cool, the school's football team won yesterday; oh yeah, that physics professor seems insane; did you watch that new movie?

it works for a while, but he eventually finds his eyes wandering off to you in every room. you're just that radiant, attracting his attention without even trying. that fact is something he's okay with, and he supposed he'll just have to get used to seeing you with other guys every once in a while, even if it's terribly painful.

but when that stupid football jock you've been talking to for the last fifteen minutes places his hand on your ass as he leans in to whisper in your ear – has he no shame? will asks himself – will has had enough.

in just a few quick strides, he has made it over to you, and his left arm drapes across your shoulders instantly. "there you are, baby," he says, leaning down to press a fleeting kiss to your temple. "been looking all over for you."

the guy takes a step back instinctively, his eyes narrowing at the sight. it takes a moment for you to realize what's happening, but when your head turns toward will, your entire face lights up. "william!" you exclaim, arms wrapping around his torso and pulling him in for a hug. he flinches at the full name – you're even drunker than he thought – but he relaxes once you're in his arms instead of that guy's.

"who are you?"

will looks back to the man you were talking to earlier. "oh, shit- i'm sorry, rude of me not to introduce myself." he holds out his right hand, his other one falling down your waist. "i'm will. nice to meet you, man."

the other guy reluctantly shakes will's hand, frowning slightly. "you two a thing or something?"

will leans the side of his head against the top of yours. "girlfriend and boyfriend for almost two years now."

your eyes widen at this, jaw dropping with a gasp. "boyfriend?" you ask. "you're my boyfriend?"

he chuckles, hoping he doesn't sound as nervous as he feels, but nods. "i think you-" he accentuates the word with a tap to your nose. "-have had a little too much to drink if you don't remember me."

the other guy leaves the scene looking a little nauseous, and will can finally relax a little. you, however, seem to not notice anything going on around you, still focused on his touch on your nose several moments later. "too much? no, i'm not even tipsy..."

"sure you aren't." will's hand reaches for yours, tugging on it as he starts walking out of the room. "come on, let's go back to the dorm."

"what dorm?" you ask, yet you reluctantly walk after him.

"your dorm."

once you reach the front door, he rummages through the millions of coats hanging on the wall before finding yours. he hangs it over your shoulders, trying his best to ignore the pout on your lips. "i wasn't done in there." you tilt your head to the side. "why are you forcing me out?"

"i'm taking care of you," he corrects.

"same thing." he lets go of your hand and your eyes follow his movements when he puts on his own jacket, already missing his warmth on your skin. "why?"

he shrugs. "boyfriend duties, i guess."

you step out into the cold together, and the fresh air helps you begin to come to your senses. yet, you find yourself mumbling, "if you're actually my boyfriend, you should kiss me. on the lips."

oh, how badly he wishes he could.

"another time, baby."

[jenanigans1207]

1/7/25: Petty

“Dude,” Sam says to Dean one night when they’re sitting in the library pouring over some boring ass books that haven’t helped them even a little bit up until this point. “What the hell’d you do to Cas?”

“Who says I did anything to him?” Dean asks without glancing up. “Dude’s weird, it’s probably nothing.”

A hand appears on the page that Dean was pretending to read, and it takes him a second to even realize it’s happened, blinking his attention back to the moment and glaring at Sam as he reaches out to smack the offending hand. Sam snatches his hand back before Dean makes contact, but the effect was successful because Sam now has Dean’s full attention.

“He’s taking everything I say so literally.” Sam explains, pausing as if he’s waiting for Dean to add something. When Dean doesn’t, he presses on. “We’ve known the guy for twelve years and even when he was his most angelic, he didn’t do this.”

“Sure he did.” Dean argued, the phrase no, he’s not on any flatbread circling around in his head.

But Sam shakes his head, a few long pieces falling into his eyes. “That was different. He didn’t know then. He’s doing it on purpose now.”

Dean sighs and scrubs a hand across his face. “He’s doing it to be a petty bastard.” He says finally. “On our last hunt I yelled at him because he never fucking listens or does what I ask him to do, which is how he got hurt. So now—”

“He’s taking everything said to him literally and acting it out exactly as he’s told to.” Sam fills in the blank.

“Yeah.” Dean says. “I was trying to ignore him hoping that he’d stop, but he only seems to be doubling down on being an ass about the whole thing.”

To Dean’s surprise, the only response Sam has to the whole situation is to burst out in laughter. It’s the kind of head thrown back, belly laugh that Dean hasn’t heard Sam do in years. It was the kind of laugh he cherished, because he used to get it so infrequently that he had to commit every second of it to memory. And even though Sam laughs more easily now, he still rarely laughs with this kind of unbridled joy— for a moment it makes Dean entirely forget about Cas and his petty revenge. Despite himself and despite the situation, Dean finds himself grinning a little too, just happy to see his brother happy.

“You really met your match,” Sam finally manages to choke out, still smiling in a way that’s happy but definitely verging on shit-eating. “For every pain in the ass thing you do, he returns the favor.”

“It’s not funny,” Dean grumbles, leaning back in his chair. He wants to take a swig of his beer but it’s empty and he doesn’t feel like getting up. “He needs to be more careful!”

Sam settles more comfortably in his own chair then and it’s the slant of his shoulders that tells Dean he should’ve gotten up to get the next beer because he’ll need it for whatever Sam is about to say. “Have you just tried telling him that you’re worried about him? And that it matters to you that he stays safe?”

There’s a lot of deflections and defenses that jump to the tip of Dean’s tongue, but he bites back on them. He’s been trying to be better to be at least a little more honest— with himself, Sam, and Cas. Nobody else was yet included in that honesty, but he figured he’d get there someday. So he swallows the immediate words he wants to say and glances down at the table.

“He should know.” He answers instead which isn’t much but it’s better and more vulnerable than anything else he would’ve said. At least it implies admission that Sam’s right about his true reason for being upset.

“I’m sure he does.” Sam agrees and there’s a sincerity in his voice that does actually comfort Dean a little. “But knowing it deep down and hearing it are different.” Sam explains, pausing before adding, “You know he loves you, but it’s still nice to hear, isn’t it?”

And goddamn it all, Sam has a point that Dean can’t even begin to deny. Because he does know that Cas loves him, knows it to the core of his very bones. But if Cas were to just stop saying it out loud, were to stop reminding him of just how much he’s loved, it would be hard for Dean. He wouldn’t doubt that love, but he would still struggle with it.

Dean groans and pushes back from the table, mumbling an affectionate and exasperated “bitch” under his breath as he leaves the room. He doesn’t have to travel far to find Cas, situated in the bathroom preparing to shave. Cas glances up when he walks in the door, their eyes meeting in the mirror. Cas’s hand stills where they were unrolling a towel over the sink in front of him.

“I’m so hard on you because I’m worried,” Dean blurts before he has the chance to lose his nerve. “I’m terrified of losing you and it scares the shit out of me when you get hurt on our hunts.” Cas’s eyes have gone impossibly wide in his reflection, but he doesn’t interrupt. “I don’t mean to be an ass, I just— I can’t lose you, Cas. You mean too damn much to me.”

“Dean,” Cas breathes, turning to face him properly.

“So there you go,” Dean scuffs the toe of his boot on the ground. “You can stop being a petty bitch now.”

Cas smiles as he steps up to Dean, reaching out to cup his elbow gently in a warm hand. “Thank you for telling me.”

“You knew, right?” Dean confirms.

“I knew,” Cas answers. “I couldn’t have been so petty if I had thought you were serious.”

“You’re such an ass.”

[iaminfourthwing]

The Generals Daughter

A/N: Hello Guys. Again, I am really sorry for not posting in so long. Took me a while to gain the motivation again but it's not fully back yet. But you get a (very) little chapter now. Oh and I wish you all a happy new year. Thanks for all the nice comments <3

Chapter XVI

It’s been a few minutes and he hasn’t said anything. He studies me, again. He always does that, silently trying to find my flaws. Innea doesn’t find that funny as well, as she grumbles in annoyance behind me.

‚Be careful. The black beast won’t like it, if you incinerate his rider.‘ I warn her, knowing that she’ll absolutely ignore it.

‚Codagh can fuck off, as if I’ll ever listen to what he says‘ she spits out.

I smirk, which the man in front of me doesn’t likes.

„You have an … interesting dragon, that chose you.“ I can practically feel the distaste, that radiates from him. Innea huffs, clearly as offended as I am. 

„She is perfect, I don’t care what other people think about her. She chose me, and I am honored to be her rider. I’ll hopefully fulfill her demands wisely and without .. flaws.“ I say.

„She is nothing special, just from the same den as the dragon from Riorson. And you are surely not special either. You are not to fulfill her demands, but those of Navarre, are we clear? This is why you are here, to defend the kingdom against any threat, no matter the form.“ He hisses while stepping closer.

„Are we clear, Cadet Melgren?“ He also has to emphasize the last name every time so that I am reminded of who (he says) has power over me. Not anymore.

„I am here, to defend those who cannot defend themselves. I will listen to whatever SHE demands of me, no-one else. I am NOT-“ I can’t react fast enough. The blow echoes across the flight field, loud and clear. No one dares to speaks. My head snaps to the side violently and my cheek burns. I can hardly believe it, but he actually dared to hit me in public. Not that anyone would intervene, no, that would be suicide. But now it is obvious that I am not enjoying any benefits. Only pain. And punishment.

Innea is furious, mad even. She roars loudly, while coming close, her head tilted to my father. She bares her teeth and curls her tongue like she wants to spit fire.

‚I will KILL him! Codagh can surely fuck off but I will NOT accept any disrespect against MY rider!‘ she roars loudly in my head and over the flight field. 

The ground vibrates as the black monster approaches us. Its snout twisted into a nasty grimace. God, it is so ugly, and yet so powerful. I hate it with all my heart.

'Innea, don't do it. We are only at the beginning of our adventure here. I refuse to let this be the end. Please take a step back. I will sort this out with him. He will no longer have any control over me, but he is still the commanding general of the Navarrean army. So please, don't let yourself be provoked, as much as I want to rip both of their heads off aswell.‘

I can sense the stares of the other cadets, riders and leadership. I don’t dare to turn my head to see who is judging, who has pity in their eyes, or who is just observing (we all know who I am talking about). Innea still grumbles, mad and absolutely terrifying. Shuffling can be heard, when Codagh reaches us, tilting his into my direction, directly staring into my eyes. Out of my eye I can see blue. 

‚Sgaeyl is to the right, if he dares to attack‘ my dragon says.

She would .. protect us? 

‚They all would. You’ve got your wing at your back. They definitely would defend you and me. And your friends would be the first ones to come to your rescue.‘

Fuck, I will never be able to thank them enough.

I raise my chin, looking my father in his (cruel and cold) eyes, ignoring his dragon at his back.

„I apologize, General. For offending you. My dragon and I will work on it, to strengthen our bond and hopefully manifest a powerful signet to defend .. the kingdom. We will protect those who can’t protect themselves and fight against any threat.“ If he noticed the pause he doesn’t let it show. 

He nods. „I’ll see you in a few weeks.“ He steps closer, to close for my (and Inneas) liking. „If I hear just one misstep, or one mistake, no matter you or your dragon, it will be over for the both of you.“ He whispers. All I can do is nod my head. He steps away and leaves me alone with Innea. I can finally breathe again. Fuck, one day he will kill me.

‚He will not. I will not let anything happen to you. You are my rider, I chose you and we will survive this together.‘

Taglist: @puttyly @lxnvmvrzx @freyagallileaevans @aroacemushroom @dragonsandrinks

[n0vazsq]

Just like | AP80 x Reader

pairing . . . alex powell x gf!reader

summary . . . You knew Alex was clingy, but it was the one thing the other Prema drivers loved to tease him about

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . 1.1k+

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . i legit finished writing this then just left it bc i didnt have the energy to publish?? like girl?? anyway there will be a gabriel (bortoleto) and jamal (musiala) update today so yes!! might write two smaus but ill see until then!

. . . Hanging out with Alex and the other Prema drivers was always a good time, but if there was one thing his teammates loved to tease him about, it was how clingy he got whenever you were around.

Not that you minded. Alex’s affection was one of the many reasons you loved him. It was just funny seeing him squirm when the guys decided to give him a hard time about it.

The first time it happened after a particularly tiring race weekend. Alex had just climbed out of the car, soaked in sweat and grinning from ear to ear after a podium finish.

You had barely stepped into the paddock when he spotted you, immediately heading in your direction. His arms wrapped around you tightly, and he buried his face in your shoulder.

"Alex, you’re sweaty!" you laughed, trying to push him away, but he refused to let go.

"Don’t care," he murmured. "I missed you."

From behind him, Dion’s voice rang out. "Mate, she was gone for what, two hours?"

"Not even," added Rashid, crossing his arms and grinning. "And you’re acting like you haven’t seen her in weeks."

"Leave him alone," you said, playfully defending Alex while running a hand through his damp hair. "He deserves some love after that race."

"Deserve it all the time," Alex mumbled against your shoulder, making you laugh.

Dion pretended to gag. "God, get a room. Or at least shower first, Alex. We can smell you from here."

Alex shot them a glare but didn’t loosen his hold on you. If anything, he tightened his arms around your waist, as if daring them to say something else.

Another moment came a few days later in the Prema lounge. The team had gathered to relax and watch some old race footage, with snacks scattered across the table.

You’d come by to hang out, not expecting Alex to immediately pull you onto the couch next to him. His arm draped over your shoulder, and he leaned in so close it was like he thought you might disappear if he gave you even an inch of space.

"Comfy?" you teased, tilting your head to look at him.

"Always comfy with you," he replied, pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

"Does she have to sit here?" Kean groaned, gesturing at how you and Alex were practically glued together. "It’s like you’re incapable of being apart for five minutes."

"Jealous, Kean?" Alex shot back, smirking.

"Not at all. I just don’t get how she puts up with you," Kean retorted, earning laughs from Dion, Rashid and Tomass.

"I think it’s sweet," Tomass chimed in, though there was a teasing glint in his eyes. "You know, in a borderline obsessive kind of way."

"Obsessive?" Alex frowned, looking genuinely offended.

"You’re literally holding her hand right now," Dion pointed out. "And we’re just sitting here watching TV. What’s next? You’re going to spoon feed her snacks?"

Alex’s ears turned red, but he didn’t let go of your hand. "You guys are just jealous because I have someone who actually likes me."

"That’s debatable," Rashid argued, earning a laugh from you.

Then there was the time the team decided to have a movie night at Tomass' place. You and Alex had shown up together, of course, and he immediately claimed the corner of the couch, pulling you down next to him.

His head rested on your shoulder, his legs stretched out across the cushions, effectively blocking anyone else from sitting too close.

"Alex, you’re hogging the couch," Kean complained as he tried to squeeze into the remaining space.

"Plenty of room on the floor," Alex replied without moving an inch.

"You’re so annoying," Dion muttered, grabbing a beanbag chair instead. "Does she even get to breathe, or are you going to steal all her oxygen too?"

"She’s fine," Alex said, reaching up to intertwine his fingers with yours. "Aren’t you, love?"

You nodded, suppressing a laugh. "Perfectly fine."

"See?" Alex smirked, looking smug.

Rashid rolled his eyes. "Man, I don’t know how you’re not sick of him yet. He’s like a koala. Clings to you for dear life."

"Hey, koalas are adorable," you defended, running your fingers through Alex’s hair. "And besides, I like it."

"Unbelievable," Tomass muttered, shaking his head. "You two are insufferable."

The teasing didn’t stop even during more serious moments. After a track walk one morning, Alex had casually grabbed your hand as you walked back to the garage. It wasn’t a big deal to you, but it apparently caught the attention of his teammates.

"Alex, do you think she’s going to get lost on the way back?" Tomass joked, pointing at your intertwined hands.

"No, I just like holding her hand," Alex replied, completely unfazed.

"You’re hopeless," Dion sighed, though he couldn’t hide his grin. "You know that, right?"

Alex shrugged. "I’d rather be hopeless than alone."

"That’s… weirdly sweet," Kean admitted, looking mildly impressed for once. "Still clingy as hell, though."

One morning, the team decided to grab breakfast together before heading to the track.

You were sitting next to Alex, and as usual, he was finding little excuses to touch you; whether it was holding your hand under the table, brushing a crumb off your cheek, or leaning in to quietly ask if you needed anything.

"Do you ever just… sit still?" Rashid asked, watching as Alex handed you the honey before you’d even asked for it.

"Not when she’s around," Alex replied, unashamed. "Have to make sure she’s taken care of."

"She’s not a toddler, Alex," Tomass said, rolling his eyes. "She can pour her own honey."

"Yeah, but I like doing it for her," Alex shot back, his tone completely sincere.

You couldn’t help but laugh. "Okay, now you’re just giving them more points."

"It’s worth it," Alex said, grinning as he kissed your cheek. "Let them talk."

By the end of the day, you’d heard enough teasing to last you a lifetime, but you could tell Alex didn’t care. If anything, he was even more clingy, unapologetically showing his affection no matter what anyone said.

As you walked out of the garage together, his arm draped over your shoulders, you leaned into him with a smile. "You know they’re never going to stop teasing you, right?"

"Let them," he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. "As long as I have you, I don’t care what they think."

"You’re such a sap," you teased, but your heart swelled at his words.

"Only for you," he replied, grinning. And in that moment, you knew you wouldn’t change a thing about him, clinginess and all.

It was just like perfection.

Well, nearly. It was as close as you could get to perfection.

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @justaf1girl ,, @awritingtree ,, @freyathehuntress ,, @chilling-seavey (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

For the horror skeletons who would have children, let's say they have two children, a boy and a girl, the kids are hanging out with their dad until there dad went to go do something and by the time the kids look up there dad isn't there anymore and they frantically look around to find him but no luck... but uncle is here

How would uncle's react to their niece and nephew clinging to their side following him like lost ducklings because they can't find his brother?

Horrortale Sans - So, funny story. He was looking for Willow too. Since he saw his brother's kids were looking for him too, he followed them around so they lead him to his brother. Now you're all wandering aimlessly in the farm. Oak doesn't even know what he's looking for anymore after ten minutes and is just confused.

Horrortale Papyrus - For Asgore's sake, not again! Willow goes to search for his brother but can't find him anywhere. That's pretty common, Oak just randomly disappears sometimes. However, it also means he won't be back before ten minutes or four days, which can be a problem. Willow will take care of the kids for now, but he's a little stressed now. He hates it when his brother does this.

Horrorswap Sans - Uuuuurgh. Nugget didn't plan to talk to his brother today and he feels so awkward right now. He was fine just with their monthly conversation, why does he have to be the one bringing the kids to their dad? Nugget is kinda leading the kids like a border collie leads sheeps, towards the house, trying to encourage them to go there by themselves so he doesn't have to talk to his brother.

Horrorswap Papyrus - Pumpkin is always happy to see his nieces/nephews but is much less enthusiastic about seeing his brother. However, he's a bit concerned and angry about the kids being by themselves. He knows his brother is not the best with children, but still, they were in the middle of a field! What's his problem? Don't you know children need supervision? Pumpkin is anxious and nervous now, he just leads the children to the house so they can all wait for Nugget there.

Horrorfell Sans - I mean, he COULD bring the kids back, but that's no fun. So what they're all going to do is play a game. Copper climbs a tree with the kids and they all watch poor Chief completely freaking out, screaming his kid's names and trying his best to push his wheelchair in the mud to run after them. When Chief notices though, he is NOT happy. He's not talking to his brother for three days and refuses to stay in the same room he is in. Copper thinks that's hilarious actually and doesn't regret anything.

Horrorfell Papyrus - He sighs, then takes his phone and texts his brother to ask him where are the kids. Copper immediately answers that they're absolutely with him. So Chief calls him and asks him to let him talk to the kids. As Copper is panicking and trying to justify himself miserably, he just lets one of his kids talk to him, then tells him the kids are at home and that if he doesn't want him to tell his S/O, he better do all the chores in the house before 6 p.m. It's 5:45 p.m. right now. Chief hangs up and chuckles like an epic villain. He can't wait to watch his brother cry at his feet for him to not tell his S/O. Guess what? He plans to do it anyway. He doesn't care if he does all the chores, he just wants to cause chaos. He just wants to remind his brother from time to time that he's still the annoying little brother and that him getting married doesn't change that.

Horrorswapfell Sans - He jumps out of his bones when a random hand grabbed his clothes. He wasn't expecting that and he's a little shaken. What the hell?! Don't just grab him, talk to him so he knows who you are. He can't say he's surprised his brother's kids are on their own, and he's pretty sure Tiger left to commit arson or some shit anyway so he takes them back home. He can still lecture his brother like a baby when he comes back. Tiger hates it, but Bear also hates to babysit children without it being planned so Tiger will sit on the couch and get lectured anyway. Everyone is getting mad tonight.

Horrorswapfell Papyrus - If the kids are there, it means there's a completely freaking out Bear somewhere having a panic attack. Tiger goes looking for his brother and finds him hyperventilating in the middle of the forest because he lost his way trying to find his children. That's ok though. Tiger just leads him back home with the kids and is nice enough to not comment on the accident, as his brother is already quite shaken and needs some time to recover. He at least praises the children for coming directly to him when they lost their dad so they do it again if it happened again.

[ravelqueen]

Because of one person asking POPULAR DEMAND: Metaphor Re:Fantazio a/b/o thoughts, to wit:

What if the alpha/omega thing is the super special Elda tribe trait but nobody knows about it anymore.

Used to be it was common knowledge, but since omegas almost only ever conceive during heat and only go into heat if they feel safe, the constant stress of being hunted as an "inferior race" got the population down, which in turn led to Elda leaving broader society behind to survive, so now it is more folklore to most other tribes. However, it DOES still survive as part of the stereotype attached to the Elda that now extends to them also being promiscuous/sexually perverse/too seductive/only good for sex.

So the insults that Will gets have a bit more of "get away from my husband you wicked harlot" or "well the army will sure find a use for an Elda" on top of the standard stuff - only since nobody actually knows shit about Elda/genotypes it's pretty inaccurate all around so it bothers him almost less than some other insults, because it's kind of funny? Like of course he's not "always wet and ready", how would that even work? "You in heat?" Clearly them asking means they don't know the first thing about a heat, because you're def able to tell.

He'd sometimes like to just at least correct the wrong assumptions people make about how this all works but the elders in the village were VERY CLEAR that people's ignorance around their nature is the best protection they could get - no way to abuse a heat-addled omega if you don't know the signs of pre-heat, no controlling a bunch of alphas through stressing out an omega enough that they'd do whatever it takes to not have to smell the terrible sour scent in the air.

In a way he feels almost safer after a while than he did at home sometimes, at least on that level, because other tribes have no scent glands so no matter how overtly threatening someone might behave towards him, at least he doesn't have to deal with someone trying to overwhelm his resistance through aggressive alpha pheromone bullshit. It's especially relaxing when he realises that none of these other people seem to be able to smell him either - he doesn't have the most distinctive scent, but there is definitely no way he could have enjoyed Barton working shirtless the way he did without stupid comments.

And that was fine at the when he left his village - he only thought about helping the prince and sure it was going to be hard in the outside world - especially with the elders INSISTING that he definitely can't fuck a non-Elda - but he wasn't a slave to his instincts just because he's an omega, he was going to fine. The mission was going to be a few weeks at most.

Only then he suddenly decides to go on the campaign trail and oh it's a lot harder than he thought. And turns out that "don't get involved with other tribes, don't tell them anything about what it means to be an omega, definitely don't sleep with them, don't ask why doesn't matter" isn't as easy an advice to follow when you are on the third month of being surrounded by distressingly hot non-Elda, who have also provided you a place that feels safe and home and smells like them (even though none of the others actually have scent glands, Will can still sort of get their natural scent and ohhh it is so nice, it smells like family, it smells like pack)

And yeah he doesn't want to mess with his new comrades dynamic too much (doesn't want to explain what he is, now that he's heard how the outside thinks of them, what they are taught an omega is) but there are others he meets, on the road and so many of them are big and buff and often protective, and he's not supposed to sleep with them, but there are no other Elda around to take off the edge, to keep him balanced.

On top of that there is Strohl who doesn't smell like an alpha, doesn't smell like anything really aside from clean sweat and clemar and burnt orange and the sword oil he uses a lot, who has especially decided to be buff and protective and affectionate and it's driving Will to DISTRACTION.

The THING IS Strohl has been really trying his very best at Checking His Privilege - not just around Will, but clearly the MOST around him. He especially gets angry at all these people insinuating that Will is easy or that he could control people through sex - it's ridiculous and demeaning and terrible of them (and just because Will could ask him anything with those big eyes and he'd do it, no questions asked, obviously is just because he's - they - HE'S NOT GOING TO THINK ABOUT IT). Who insists that it an absolute OUTRAGE that they would look at Will and think he'd into getting dragged down a dirty alley and get fucked hard (Will who has been trying not to imagine Strohl doing that "[strangled] yeah terrible")

Only when Strohl does these things - physically puts himself between Will and someone who tries to grope him in a bar, gets so offended, defends Will's honour - Will knows it's not what he thinks, he knows Strohl just cannot abide by injustice, maybe - best case - he just really likes Will, but to him it reads so much like courting that he can't help get his wires crossed sometimes. But the elders were very clear and he is terrified of messing things up with the really good thing he's got going right now, so he sort of resigns himself for a while to just being very horny for a while

And the nice thing is at least he gets to be horny without anyone the wiser, because while yes throwing his pheromones around the way he's been doing would be seen as extremely rude in his village, it's not like anyone around him can smell it and be influenced by it, so while it's uncomfortable, he's going to survive and it's just a him-problem in the end.

Only turns out that while other tribes don't have noses as sensitive/receptors capable of interpreting subtle shifts the way the Elda can, the elders were wrong in that omega pheromones don't affect them at all - which Will realises after he breaks and hooks up with Batlin after the exhibition at which point he apparently induced a sort of mini rut in someone who is really not equipped for it (he passes out after the third round).

So maybe everyone's dazed looks weren't just because of the sometimes oppressive heat in the gauntlet runner and maybe Strohl isn't feeling faint just because of sea sickness after all.

Well, shit.

[theuselesspallbearer]

I feel like the fact that sycamore is also a professor is really underrated. Imagine taking an archaeology class and then later finding out your professor has an alter ego where he runs around in a mask and feather boa and he's been caught by the police for the near-destruction of various towns via giant evil robot. Also he's tried to swordfight another famous archaeology professor (who happens to be his brother) more than once, and he has beef with the team rocket style militia of archaeology because they killed his family and also the leader is his dad. Insane

[chiyana]

this is the stupidest crossover possible but I want Tim to make House his doctor

yes that House

why? He needs someone who is very good, will not give up or send Tim out to a different specialist just because his medical condition is difficult, will not be overly concerned about the danger Tim puts himself in, and will lie on Tim's medical records AND to Batman/Bruce Wayne/all of the Bats without hesitation or fear.

House is and will do all of those things without hesitation. He has no shame, no boundaries, he WILL get into a public fight with Bruce Wayne if it means keeping that man out of his patient's (and House's) business. He will help Tim lie to and gaslight the rest of his family without hesitation.

in exchange, Tim is his favorite patient. Not because they get along, necessarily, Tim is a know-it-all little shit and they constantly bicker and House hates how practically every facet of Tim's existence is a lie (and Tim thinks House is a smug know-it-all jackass who is needlessly cruel and callous bc he thinks the world owes him and never delivers just bc he's in pain, news flash a lot of people are in pain and manage not to be assholes) BUT, 1, Tim brings him really interesting cases and problems, and 2, Tim NEVER lies to House about his medical conditions or what he was doing when they happened.

He lies about literally almost everything else under the sun TO everyone else, but he is 100% completely upfront and honest about his medical history and what is going on with him with House.

admittedly it takes a while for House to realize Tim ISN'T lying to him because some of the shit he says is completely insane ("the vigilante thing is pretty obvious but what do you MEAN you got the Apocalypse virus TWICE, AND SURVIVED, AS A FOURTEEN-FIFTEEN YEAR OLD")

but once he realizes Tim doesn't ever lie to him, he becomes House's favorite patient because at least TIM gives him all of the data he needs as best he's able the moment he asks. At least House doesn't have to waste his time following up on bogus information or figuring out the truth, he can just get right into the meat of the medical issue at hand.

also it's so fun to lie directly to Batman's face, know the man knows, and know he can't do anything about it

[kacievvbbbb]

to complement this post

I think the red hair pirates would be obsessed with S-Hawk too! Especially the main group who've known Mihawk through his teenage marine hunting phase.

Benn would know they are walking on thin ice but look at him! He’s a little baby Mihawk! Look at his little uniform shirt tucked into his little shorts. Every angry and threatening expression s-hawk could make would mean nothing to a crew that has seen the real thing live and in color. It would just be adorable like look at his little frown! His glare! The threat of disembodiment in his eyes! Adorable

Mihawk is very uncomfortable with how much the red hair pirates fawn over and adore what is essentially a manufactured baby him. But yet also somehow touched? By it. He’ll kill everyone and then himself before he admits it tho

Yasopp, who actually did know a shorter 19 year old Mihawk, would ask him if he was that adorable but tiny (still can't comprehend that the seraphim are infact giant) as a child and if he had any pictures, and Mihawk almost takes his head.

[padfootastic]

please say more about jilypad + diverging parenting styles... perhaps even a possible scenario >:) i imagine harry has very cunning tactics for using this to his advantage

helloooooo <3 thank u for this ask bc i love talking about these three and harry. i went looking thru the archives to find this post; my first foray into this side, and really, i’ve never looked back after that.

so i’ve talked ab this a bit before but i fully think that james was a very overprotective ‘mother hen’ type parent. i tend to read his behaviour in lily’s bday letter to sirius as being scared of his child on a broomstick and i fully, fully think he’ll never be able to let go of that as harry grows up. he’ll be anxious and suspicious and paranoid, and his first instant will always be to wrap harry up in cotton wool and hide him away. (i low-key connect this to his childhood as well; going from being spoiled and sheltered to dropped in the middle of a war, black & white thinking, living in extremes etc etc makes it v hard for him to be Normal about his child. as he shouldn’t be, really, but yeah) that’s why he thrives during the initial years; he never minds the hard parts of being a new parent, loves it in fact, and it makes it better that he can keep harry close to him at all times w/o coming off as a helicopter parent (not that the notion bothers him ofc).

it’s good, then, that he has two partners to even the scales, no? i think lily was the most…balanced out of the three. she had a relatively normal childhood, grew up in a working class family/neighbourhood and had to deal w adversity from a young age so she’s developed a nice, thick skin. she also has a sibling with whom she has a v rocky relationship so she knows that kids are, ykno, a bit unhinged. and a little bit of hardship is not a problem. i hc her as needing time to get used to parenthood, unlike james who stepped into it natural as breathing, or even sirius who loved harry on much on first sight that it made up for everything else. ofc lily loved her son, but it didn’t come w the same blinding intensity of her partners and made her feel really shitty in the beginning. but, i think she’d shine during his teen years actually, because she’s not overbearing or intense and becomes the quiet, calm strength that a hormonal, spotty teen boy would probably need.

and sirius <3 our poor baby falls in love with harry, perhaps even more quickly than james, with such startling speed that it shakes his entire foundation. he doesn’t regret it but he’s constantly discombobulated. i also imagine that…it takes him longer to settle into the role of parent, esp bc he’s not biologically one ykno? not like it matters to anyone, ofc, but it takes him a long time to truly accept his authority and place, to believe that he has just as much right as j&l to be there, to parent harry. this has the consequence of him always being more indulgent than the other two; after all, he considered himself a godfather before a parent and a lot of that thinking stayed. he lets harry get away with stuff the others might not (and the little mf figures this out later); some of it also comes from sirius seeing so much shit, and facing so much shit himself, that he rationalises a lot of stuff as ‘well, this isn’t the worst it can be, so what’s the harm’ (because his life has been such a roller coaster that he’s forgotten that not everyone’s like that, if that makes sense?)

its obviously not this clear cut but i imagine harry looks at it like this: if he needs unconditional love, he goes to james; rationality and logic, lily; acceptance and calm, sirius. when someone has to be beat up for hurting harry, james steps in. if he needs help burying a body, it’s sirius. dealing with some asshole boss/teacher/classmate’s mother who’s making harry’s life hell? lily. i can keep going but,,,u get the idea, right? this makes sense, i hope lol

i actually think harry’s first birthday is a great example. sirius pushes the boundaries by gifting lil harry a broom; james loses his mind running after him; lily places an industrial sticking charm on harry’s butt, leans back with a glass of wine, and enjoys the show. even as he grows up, lily and james act as the disciplinarian, and sirius is the emotional outlet. all of them fill in each other’s cracks so well, and it’s only when harry grows up that he realises how effortlessly they worked off each other to parent him.

also oh man o man. harry being cunning is,,,,,see, i’ve not considered it this far but it makes perfect sense. i think canon harry actually had so much manipulative energy and it’s often overlooked for his goofier traits but! this is the same dude who used his dead parents to trick slughorn into revealing sensitive info! imagine if that could be channelled into his jilypad interactions 😈

it’s like, it takes him a bit, because his three parents r so smooth, but once he realises that all of them have certain weak spots, he does NOT hesitate to exploit them. (it has the unintended consequence of truly strengthening the jilypad relationship into an unbreakable one bc one thing their kid taught them is to have ironclad communication going at all times so nothing they’ve said, or not said, is used against them). so like, he knows if he wants to sneak out to a party, it has to be sirius and in a specific way—‘i’ll be totally safe, papa, plus i really wanna see what it’s like and idk when it’ll get a chance to again’. if he widens his eyes to pitiful levels, pouts a little, and blinks faster than usual, then james is putty in his arms as long as he’s separated from the other two. divide and conquer becomes the main tool in harry’s arsenal, actually. lily’s the toughest nut to crack, purely bc she doesn’t run on emotions or irreverence, but harry soon learns that if he comes up with a solid, logical case that proves his argument has unbiased merit then he has a good chance of getting her to say yes. (this is good, bc u can arrange words in the correct order, but u can’t always control emotions)

so overall yeah, you’d think one kid + 3 parents would be an easy bet, but harry keeps them on their toes all the fkn time.

[subaru-meteorlight]

💫.

[cathnospam]

Bakugo makes you laugh, A LOT and it drives him insane.

“It was not that damn funny.”

You try to conceal the snickers from your mouth, but fail horribly. All he did was mutter something about Mineta being a punk ass and it had you giggly.

At first he used to take offense by it, maybe you were laughing AT him and not what he says, almost like mocking him, that wasn’t until Deku quickly explained in passing that you laugh very easily.

But you don’t laugh this damn much with anybody else but him. At this point he thought you had a similar quirk to Ms. Joke, and he nicknamed you Giggles.

You both were studying in the library like you both usually do during exam week, and Bakugo noticed you haven’t been Miss. Cackle the past few days. Not even a smile actually and you’d think it would have been some relief for him from hearing your laugh obxonious laugh, but he’s actually more annoyed.

He looks up from his book and glances at you across the table, you’re typing away, with a less that neutral look on your face. Lips somehow forming a pout and eyes looking droopy. He scoffs going back to his work, but it was an itch he needed to scratch with you..?

“Who pissed in your breakfast.”

“What?”

“You been looking like a sad lost puppy all week what the hell is your problem.”

The corner of your lips cracked upwards a bit, almost as if you were fighting to smile, but instead you shrug, “‘Nothing you needa worry about. Why.”

It was almost concerning how calm you sounded. Your voice was more tame that you didn’t even sound recognizable which make Bakugo crease his brows, “You suck at lying. Is it, because of that shitty boyfriend you have pissed you off.”

He was referring to Shindo, he wasn’t your boyfriend, but he was a guy you got close with after meeting him a few years ago, but Bakugo was half right he was part of the problem.

You had a small crush on Shindo , but overheard him tell his classmates how he isn’t into you like that mainly because you’re not his type and how much he can’t stand how loud you talk/laugh sometimes.

It hurt hearing it, when he found out you heard he tried apologizing but you didn’t wanna hear it, so since then you’ve turn self conscious about speaking and laughing too loudly for the past week to avoid anymore issues that you have caused with people.

After slowly explaining to the Blonde he rolled his eyes, “You’re ganna let the walking vibrator dictate your life too? So stupid.”

“You hate my laugh too. What does it matter.”

Bakugo stayed silent for a moment while you went back to work. Thinking how could he word what he wants to say without sounding like an idiot, “I never said that, besides you never stopped even when I did tell you your laugh was annoying. If you want to cackle like a hyena who gives a fuck—“

You break into a snicker but end up covering it with your hand. He cracks a proud smirk, he almost forgot what you looked like with a smile, “I don’t wanna be loud. Just can’t help it.”

“We know.”

You giggle at his deadpanned voice, it really wasn’t your fault, you’re just so easy to please and Bakugo knows that, “Giggly ass, and I seen you almost laugh when Denki tripped at the lecture today.”

“Becauuseee he is always so dramatic when he falls.” You whined into a chuckle, sharing a small one with him.

It was a start of many more shared laughs after studying, Katsuki even tried to be just a LITTLE bit more funnier than usual when walking back to the dorms. When you finally cracked a real loud one out he felt himself grinning at you.

“Katsuki Alexander Bakugo are you smiling?”

“Don’t you EVER say my full name like that again got dammit I will blow you the hell UP!”

You almost fall to your knees of how funny his reaction was to you, it felt so good to smile again. You missed it, and so did everybody else the next day apparently.

Mina and some others thought you were depressed, Deku assumed you were sick, Denki outwardly blamed Bakugo which got him smacked, and IIda actually missed your loud noises as well.

Your classmates enjoyed your presence more than you thought they did.

But Bakugo missed it the most.

Your laughs drives him insane, because he loves to hear them.

[tonycries]

Welcome To The Itadori's! - C.K.

Synopsis. Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does. 

Pairing. Best friend! Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, childhood best friends to lovers, slowburn, cameos from the Itadori’s (Yuji, Jin, grandpa, SUKUNA), smút only when they’re adults, first times, oral (female receiving), cúnnilingus, marking, rough, Choso’s a bit mean in bed, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.0k

A/N. The unc-kuna brainrot got me here, Yuji’s family tree is HILARIOUS.

“You’ve never what?”  

“I mean, yeah? So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”

Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. Whatever the answer was, Choso could only pray that no one walked into your apartment right now.

---

Choso swears his family is well and fully intent on ruining every waking moment with you. 

He’s convinced even, at this point. Because in the 13 long years of being inseparable from you - ever since you were both whiney, snot-faced brats - Choso’s racked up more interruptions than he’s seen on those k-dramas that his grandfather swears he doesn’t watch.

It was like some cosmic joke, really. All he wanted was a moment with just the two of you…and maybe a second or two to confess his undying love. But that didn’t seem too realistic when the Itadori’s were a bit of a packaged deal, unfortunately.  

Alas, Choso’s resigned himself to accept the fact that maybe - just maybe - this was the universe’s way of telling him that his pretty best friend was indeed too good for him. Something he’s suspected ever since the both of you were eight.

The realization had hit him like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact. And a whole zoo of animals afterward.

Of course, it’s not like that was any secret. He always thought you were perfect from the second you’d moved in - that new family next door he’d been eagerly waiting ages to arrive. And Choso, being the dutiful oldest son, was the one to deliver welcome cookies to your doorstep. Stumbling, and carefully trying to reach for the doorbell without dropping any. 

“Um, welcome to-”

“Your hair’s funny.”

Now, Choso’s never greeted neighbors before, but it surely wasn’t supposed to go like this. Why was he being insulted by some little girl - you were missing a few teeth, and his had just grown back in so obviously he was much older and wiser. All unapologetic smiles and twinkling eyes as you blink up curiously at his space buns. Pretty, even when you were tearing his heart out because hey, he thought this hairstyle was cool, okay?

Which is what had him huffing and puffing back home, running straight into the arms of his dad while he tried not to cry. That is, until you came knocking at his door with your parents. Very much bawling and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug with wet mumbles of “M’sorry, meant your hair’s very cool. Wanna match-”

And, if his cheeks burned just a bit, well, Choso blamed the tears. 

After a disaster like that, of course you’d grow to be best friends within the day. 

But what that didn’t explain was when - after hours of bickering over whether to play tag or house - you were all tuckered out and sat beside him in a corner of his room, too exhausted to talk his ear off. Head lolling once. Twice. Falling softly onto his shoulder.

Oh. 

Now, Choso might just be having the first epiphany of his entire, grueling eight years in this world - that you were very, very pretty fast asleep with your head on his shoulder. 

Why? Why were you here barging into his life and turning it upside down? Calling him your “new best friend” and dragging him along wherever you went. It made his poor head absolutely spin, not daring to move a muscle so that you didn’t wake up and see this tiny predicament.

He didn’t know why. But what he did know was that he found himself subconsciously reaching for your hand, a strange little part of himself wanting to see how much smaller they were than his. They looked so soft and warm and-

“I WANNA PLAY T- Oh.”

Oh indeed. He hastily lurches away from you like it burned, hands raised like he was caught red-handed. Feeling slightly sorry when he sees you blinking away the sleep to take in your surroundings, eyes bouncing off of a very excited Yuji and resting on the clock.

“Oh no. Mommy’s gonna be mad.” you gasp, hastily getting up. And he feels a weird pang as you quickly dust down your dress, running out the door with a laughed out, “Bye, Yuji! See ya later, Cho~!”

“Bye, crybaby.”

And then it’s quiet. Only Choso still staring after you, and Yuji staring at his older brother, somewhat awestruck and wondering only one thing-

“Big bro, why are you so red?”

Choso doesn’t think he’s gotten a moment alone with you since that first initial meeting. 

Fourteen was definitely the worst, in his opinion.

“Hey, Cho, y’know the girl sitting next to me in math said she had her first kiss today.”

“Oh.” It’s all Choso can manage to get out, paying more attention than he should to the gravel beneath him as he tries not to trip over air beside you. Hot under his uniform collar at the sudden shift in conversation from the usual after-school banter. 

Looping your arm with his, you heave out a playful sigh, “I wonder what that feels like. Have you ever thought about it?” 

No, but Choso has never thought that he’d be here - face burning at your body pressed up against his. Just knowing that his ancestors above are laughing at what a loser he is, barely able to stammer out an answer to your question. 

Okay, maybe he was being dramatic. Because it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about kissing before - it’s just that whenever it popped into his mind, you were usually accompanying him. Along with those strange thoughts of whether your lips are as soft as they looked? Or would your heartbeat be as fast as-

“Man, are you even listening?” 

Shit. 

Your hand waving in front of Choso’s face brings him back to reality. Blinking hastily, he tries to gather his thoughts, mumbling out a quick, “Uh, yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought.” averting his gaze as he feels the heat rise to his cheeks at your intense gaze.

Your smile only widens, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you nudge his side. “Thinking so hard about kissing, huh? Cho, you lecher!” 

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

“Who were you imagining it with, huh? Gonna give ‘em a big smooch tomorrow?”

God, you were going to be the death of him. “N-no! I haven’t even- shut up, crybaby, it’s not like-” he sputters out useless protests over your laughter - his favorite song, even when you were teasing the hell out of him. But ah how you relish in his embarrassment, tittering out little giggles all the way until you’re steering him onto your lane. 

Choso, on the other hand, keeps wishing the ground would swallow him up more and more with each step towards his porch. He’d have broken into a sprint right then if he hadn’t known you and the way you’d race him there instead.

“Alright.” you declare once you’re stood at his front door, jolting Choso out of his reverie. And he’s barely opening his mouth to register your words before you plowing on confidently. “We’ll just have to practice our first kisses with each other.”

Perfect. Great. Wonderful. 

The final nail on his coffin. You might as well have planted a bombshell right in the middle of his already-chaotic world with the way he was reeling in- shock? Fear? Anticipation?

“Practice.” Choso whispers, more to himself than you. Yet you nod anyway, eyes locked with his like you were studying his reaction. “For…practice.”

Doubt starts to creep into your pretty features, “Well, we don’t have to if you do-”

“No no no no, I want- ahem.” he cringes at the pathetic desperation in his voice. Desperately trying to scramble back some semblance of sanity as he clears his throat, “I want to. Just-” Choso urgently looks around for- ah, there it is. 

Dragging over the brick from the side of his porch because goddammit he might be 14 but he sure hadn’t hit that growth spurt yet. “Practice, right?”

You nod with a fiery determination that, later on, would make Choso chuckle with fondness. Muttering out a firm, “Practice.” Letting the boy in front of you nervously leans closer, breath fanning your face. And shit if you were nervous then you didn’t show it, but Choso felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. 

Brows furrowing in concentration, eyes only squinting ever-so-slightly as he takes peaks at how pretty you looked. Close enough that he could count every lash as your pretty eyes closed shut, lips glistening with that strawberry chapstick you loved, puckering adorably. Only inching closer and-

Click! 

“You two are so cute! But um- dear, how do you mute this thing?”

You spring apart so fast that Choso wouldn’t be surprised if you’d teleported. He doesn’t even know what’s happening before, from the safety of about three meters away from him, you’re muttering out an embarrassed little, “Hi there, Mr. Itadori. The gardenia are coming along nicely.”

His dad smiles like he hadn’t just starred in what was likely Choso’s villain origin story. Waving happily, “Aww, thank you, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you two go back to doing your lil’ thing and I can ah- practice my photography.”

“Dad, I’m running away.”

That practice kiss never happens. And, well, if there was a proudly framed photo down the hallway of the two of you - with Choso absolutely bright red and standing comically on a brick to meet your height, faces nervously scrunching towards each other - well, neither of you ever mention it. Jin Itadori does, though - every time you come over, in fact. 

It’s only when you’re both eighteen, when Choso’s a lot deeper in his feelings - and only slightly less embarrassed about it - that he thinks that maybe not all family interruptions were that bad. 

Graduation was…something. Not exactly something that he’s sure if he’ll ever want to relive with the sheer amount of awkward photos and tears that his dad lets out. God if he has to shuffle into another-

“You alright, Cho?”

Ah. 

Traitorously, a smile makes its way onto his face, peering down at your beaming face. Both of you having made it way past the awkward early teens. Well, at least you certainly have - Choso still feels like the same awkward little boy with an even more awkward crush. “Hm? Yeah, m’great.” 

“Are ya sure? Because you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm any second now.” you raise a brow teasingly. Ah, how gorgeous you were - even when you’re picking him apart. 

“Yeah. Great. Only had this smile plastered on for the last five hours.”

“Aww, but you look so pretty smiling.” you shrug, with the audacity of someone that didn’t just have Choso’s knees dangerously weak. “Anyway- A bunch of us are gonna try to convince ol’ Yaga to let us take photos with his shades, you wanna come?”

“You think m’pretty?” he muses, embarrassingly late.

“Cho.”

“Yaga. Shades. Got it.” Choso mock salutes, drinking in the little laugh it startles out of you, eyes sparkling with mischief and looking right into his soul. Beautiful. You were always beautiful. 

And Choso can’t just stand around and do nothing about it.

“Crybaby, look, I-” Fists clenching, he takes a steadying breath. The heat only rising to his cheeks at your awaiting gaze, “I…”

“HEY, GRANDPA HELPED STEAL YAGA’S SHADES LET’S TAKE A PIC-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP ITADORI. YOU’RE RUINING A MOMENT, LET THEM HAVE THEIR MOMENT.”

“I don’t know either of you two.”

It would be a miracle for a moment not to be ruined with two overly-energetic first-years (and a very reluctant Fushiguro) pushing their way into your little bubble. Choso bites back a groan as you’re immediately swarmed by a bickering Kugisaki and Yuji, one apologizing for “ruining your k-drama moment” and the other trying to get you to put on some sunglasses. Well, at least he could empathize with the black-haired boy, who gave him an apologetic nod. 

He’s only halfway through waving off the interruption before a voice speaks up from his side. “Why didn’t you say it?”

Whirling around, Choso comes face-to-face with the disappointed look on his grandfather’s face. Already having some idea of what you mean, “Wha-”

“I may be old but m’not deaf, yet, boy. Why didn’t ya tell her?” he sighs, tilting his head to where you were wearing those shades and taking ridiculous pictures with two animated first-years. 

“I don’t know what you-”

“M’not blind, either. Quite frankly I’m insulted.”

And, well, if there’s anyone that he can’t hide from - it would be his grandfather. So he heaves out a defeated sigh, touselling his hair while muttering out a pathetic little, “M’not- Ugh, she’s too fuckin’ perfect and I…I chickened out.”

Choso doesn’t know what he expected in response but it definitely wasn’t for his grandfather to laugh. Full, and raspy - loud enough that even you stop to stare. “Thought so, idiot boy.” he chuckles, drawing indignant protests. “Did she tell you?”

Raising a brow, “What?”

“Did she tell you that you weren’t good ‘nough for her?”

“No, but-” Whatever protest on the tip of Choso’s tongue is cut off by a rough hand smacking his back in what he thinks is reassurance, but felt more like a punishment for being such a pussy around you all these years. 

“Then go. Ya might just be surprised. After all, you’re my grandson, and all the ladies at bingo love me.”

Shaking with both adrenaline and the effort to keep that image out of his mind, he makes his way towards you. Purposeful. Pointedly ignoring the matching smirks flashed his way. 

“You really think they’ll finally get together today?” Fushiguro deadpans from where he’d snuck up beside the old man, in an attempt to escape the public nuisances he calls ‘friends’. 

Choso’s grandfather hums thoughtfully, watching the scene play out before him - Choso flushed such a delicate shade of pink as you playfully put Yaga’s sunglasses on him. Settling on a gruff, “I’ll give it a few months more. He’s my grandson, after all.”

“That’s generous. I’d give it a couple years more.”

“Wanna bet, brat?”

“...”

Safe to say, his second button ended up safely in your hands that day. But Fushiguro would be the one to really win the bet. 

Because it was only 2 years, 4 months and 3 weeks after this little incident that Choso finally had you exactly where he wanted - with no interruptions. All for him. 

Freshly twenty one, splayed out on your apartment bedroom and having a conversation that he never in a million years would’ve even dared to imagine he’d have - with you of all people. All because of that stupid R-rated film you’d put on for movie night. 

“You’ve never what?” you gape, turning down the volume to those painfully fake moans coming from the tv.

Oh, how gorgeous you looked - all shocked and batting your lashes up at him in surprise. Choso almost swoons inwardly (and outwardly) before he realizes that shit you were probably waiting for an answer.

“I mean, yeah?” he sputters out, cheeks heating up as you lean in closer to hear him. Close. “So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”

Goddammit, some strange, carnal part of himself twinges dangerously at the little smirk that curls your lips. One that he quickly - and embarrassingly - realizes has the blood rushing straight to his cock. Humming a low, “Maybe. Maybe not.” The mattress dips slightly as you shift closer, lips ghosting his ear. “Want me to help you find out?”

Which is, well, how Choso found himself shoved against the armrest. Blanket thrown on the floor now, swollen cock leaking furiously through his pants as your pretty lil’ cunt hovers above his mouth. So wet that if he stuck his tongue out he could have you dripping all onto him. 

“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” he hisses despite his hands looping around your thighs, bringing you closer to him.

You raise a brow, “Are you sure, Cho?”

He should say no. He should laugh this all off as a bad joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wants just a taste of your dripping pussy - see if she’s as sweet as the rest of you is. So, throwing caution to the wind, Choso nods slowly. “Yes. Want it s’bad.”

Grinning wickedly, you whisper, “Thought so.” And then he’s pulling you onto his mouth, hot and urgent.

“Oh fuck-” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the first taste of your sweet sweet juices. “Shit shit shit.” So sloppily licking up your swollen folds - barely moving with any method or patience, just that he’s drunk on your pussy and wants more more more-

“Hngh- f-fuck. You sure this is your hah- first time, Cho?” you gasp breathlessly. And oh your best friend was so fucking beautiful. Dark hair untied and tousled, eyes half-hooded, your slick already smearing across the bottom half of his face and trickling down his jaw because shit he was so messy. So addicted to that desperate expression on your face that he just can’t help but tease you a little bit. 

“Mhm?” he smirks, tongue swirling around your pulsing clit. Purposefully missing right where you wanted him the most because shit he loved those cute lil’ whines spilling out of you. 

You let out a huff, hips trying pathetically to inch him closer - but Choso wasn’t budging. Holding you so firmly by the hips that you’re sure he leaves bruises, licking all over your cunt except for your clit. “Cho.” you warn. Brows furrowing in frustration at the way he bats his long lashes up at you so deceivingly innocently, “What?”

“You know…”

“I don’t.” he titters teasingly into your pussy. 

“Choso.”

Now, Choso’s known and seen everything there is to do with you - but never like this. Spread open shamefully and pouting so adorably on top of him, so needy for him. It made his head spin to think of just how much the dynamics had shifted. 

Shit, he really should’ve watched that godforsaken movie with you sooner. “Tell me what you want, crybaby.”

And oh how his cock twitches at the way you manage to get out an embarrassed little, “Wan’ you to ngh- tonguefuck me properly. Wanna cum on your pretty face, Cho.”

And that’s all that’s said before he’s surging forward, glossy lips wrapping around your pulsing clit to suck harshly. Rolling his soft tongue over and over-

“Wanted this for so long.” Choso mutters, muffled as he buries himself deeper into your pretty pussy. The vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running down your spine. “You have absolutely no idea, pretty.”

And you barely even have the time to register his little confession before Choso’s moving down to bully his tongue past your folds. Nose pressing against your throbbing clit as he dips into your sloppy hole. 

“Oh shit. Jus’ like that.” For a beginner, your best friend really knew what he was doing. Eating you out like his favorite meal, tongue squeezing into your snug pussy to thrust in and out, swipe against your walls, stretching you out right to his will. Over and over-

“Use me.”

Your eyes snap down to meet the pure adoration in his eyes as he makes out filthily with your cunt. Choking out a little, “What?”

“Use me.”

There it was again - that strained little mantra. And as if to prove his point, Choso reaches out to deftly place your hands on his head, bucking into you touch. 

And, well, how could you say no to that?

Because before you know it, you’re bunching Choso’s soft strands in your fists. Angling him just right to ride his pretty face. “C’mon, Cho. Ngh- H-harder, jus’ a bit- Oh!” he just devours the way your mouth drops into an adorable little oh! as his tongue curls deftly against that one spot. Again and again. Letting himself be so used, dragging your dripping cunt harder on his mouth. 

And he likes it. Hell, he loves it even - because you’re so sweet n’ pretty on his mouth. Better than everything he’s ever been dreaming of for the past few years. And always in his dreams, you’d be clenching so deliciously around his tongue when you were close - just like right now. 

So he speeds up his movements, breathing you in maddeningly. A hand snaking down from it’s favorite place on your hips to draw quick, frenzied little circles on your poor, ravaged clit. Jaw almost aching with how filthily he was dripping in and out of your entrance - be he did give a shit. Only wanting to have you breathless and creaming all over his face.

You jerk violently on top of him, “Hah! S’too much, Cho. M’so close- gonna cum- gonna-”

And then you’re cumming. Fast, and hard. 

Plushy walls clamping down on Choso’s tongue, hips stuttering on his face as he laps up all your juices, an arm around your waist helping you ride his face through your high. 

“S’sweet. Could get used to that.” he slurs into your cunt. Tipping his head back as far as it’d go to let the last of your juices slide down his throat. “Better than I imagined.”

The words ring in your ears as you blink back your vision. Deliriously whirling down to look down at Choso - still beneath you and looking more smug and content than you’d ever seen him. “Imagination? S’that why you’re so good.”

“No.”

You’re being flipped before you know it. Manhandled so easily by your best friend as he lays you on your back, sinking into the cushion while he looms above you. “S’jus’ that…” grunting as he flings his shirt off, “Been dreaming of your pretty cunt on m’tongue for years.”

Okay, now his confession hits - more than it did when he was tonguefucking you into insanity, anyway. 

“Years, huh?” you breathe out, eyes roaming all over his sculpted torso. Taking in every dip and curve of Choso’s toned abs - all the way from his broad shoulders to the rock-hard cock straining against his pants. As if in a trance, your hand reaches out to cup his leaking erection, “S’that all you’ve been dreaming of?”

“You little minx.” he lets out a low hiss. 

Before you can even react, Choso’s fumbling with that belt - cursing because shit, he’d have worn sweatpants instead if he knew they’d end up on your floor. 

And you’re not any better, fingers popping open his buttons and tugging impatiently and oh- You always thought that your best friend would have a big dick - but this?  He was so intimidatingly long - and thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. Fat tip flushed such a pretty shade of pink to match his cheeks, leaking down down down, all the way to his heavy balls. 

You’re only jolted out of your little reverie by Choso spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering cunt, spreading it lazily across your pussy with his thumb. A ringed fist pumping his cock slowly, as he drags his tip across your folds, pooling your sweet juices. Muttering out a raspy, “I’ll be gentle.”

“You better not be, now jus’ fuck me-”

Well, you didn’t have to ask Choso twice. Because you’ve barely gotten the words out before he’s bullying massive cock into your tight cunt. Pressing in inch by fucking inch as you gasp and buck underneath him. 

“Shhh, s’okay, crybaby. This is what you wanted, right?” he mumbles, with all the audacity of someone that wasn’t fucking into you in rapid, mindless little jabs to fit inside your snug lil’ pussy. Struggling to hold back at this point. “Wanted to be split apart on m’cock?”

You were so full of him. Even more so when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending all the way down and folding you in half so easily beneath him. 

He drinks in the barely-lucid squeal that leaves your swollen lips. Kissing your forehead gently, whispering against the skin, “Because I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.”

And then it was like something snapped - maybe his sanity, maybe the restraint that Choso’s been holding back for too long. Because immediately he’s plunging his throbbing cock into you - all the way till his balls, all angry and squeezing so painfully, smacks against your ass. 

“Wanted this.” he rasps into your open mouth. His hips were out of control now, thrusting you in shallow, desperate rams. Pounding into you like a man possessed, and running his mouth just as much. He laces his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down even deeper into his relentless cock - as if the bastard wasn’t fucking you dumb already. “Fuckin’ needed this needed this. Shit- so bad.”

“Ch-Choso- fuck hah-” you plead as his mouth clashes with yours. All sloppy with teeth and spit and his profanities - and it felt so damn good. 

“Yeah? Who’s fucking you silly, now?” he’s going harder now, tip hitting your poor cervix over and over. And you’d be sobbing at the burn and the stretch but all you can think of is shit this is Choso - the kid you used to play hide and seek with. And now he seems fully intent on breaking you. “Say m’name.”

A rough thumb starts toying with your clit, in time with the cute lil’ whines of his name that escape your mouth like a prayer. “Shit. Y’look so pretty like this.” he babbles. “Gonna cry, pretty girl?” smirking down at the way you were too cockdrunk to even snap back, only looking up at him with delirious, teary eyes. “Be a crybaby for my cock?���

You’re tugging on his hair, thighs shaky and bucking upwards. “Cho-”

“Mhm?”

“W-wanna cum. Need you to fill m’up till I can’t take it anymore.”

Oh if Choso was any lesser man he’d have cum right then and there. Instead settling for a guttural groan, drunk off the way you were milking his cock so hard as if to prove your point. It almost made him want to stay like this forever. But no - not right now. 

“Oh yeah?” Hips becoming sloppy now, “Need it? Shit- m’so close.” Each word slurred, punctuated by a harsh thrust, strokes long and frenzied. Using your heavenly pussy like his personal fucktoy. So hard that he’s sure you’d have embarrassing matching bruises tomorrow - his balls on your ass, your nails raking down his shoulders.

“Me too- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl into his neck, as Choso buried his face into yours. 

“Cum f’me, my girl.”

My girl. 

And then you are - and he is. And you don’t know who cums first, just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and Choso’s teeth digging into your neck as he thrusts once. Twice. Before cumming and cumming so hard he might as well have seen the pearly gates of heaven. And you were an angel.

Thick, hot ropes of cum that paint your walls white, so much that it gushes out of your poor overfilled pussy. Dripping down your legs and pooling into a sinful, creamy ring at his base. 

“Mm- shit. Choso.” you moan, barely audible over the lewd squelches from below. 

“M’here, my girl.” he grits out, voice shot. And it seems that that was his new favorite nickname, because Choso keeps murmuring it over and over as he keeps fucking his seed into you. Not even thinking about it at this point - just mindless, shallow grinds of his hips. 

In the haze of your orgasm, you think you hear his quiet voice, strained with exhaustion and something that you weren’t in the right state of mind to decipher right now. 

“Shhh, m’here. “Can’t believe I waited so fuckin’ long.” Whispering against your lips, “Love this. Love this pretty cunt.” Kissing softly, “Love the way y’take me. Fuckin’ made f’me.” And maybe even a soft little, “Love you.”

And maybe - just maybe, you whisper the same into his. Kissing him softly, exactly the way you’d wanted to all these years. 

Neither of you speak after that. Not when Choso’s hips stall, body sticky and collapsing onto yours. Nor do you speak when he pulls away with a playful nip to your lower lip - a promise. Searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe yourselves clean with. 

It’s only when he settles back under the covers beside you, looking at you with such dark, hazy eyes - whirling with too many emotions to name - that the silence is broken. 

“Crybaby.”

“Cho.”

“Corny.”

“You started it.”

Chuckling, Choso pulls your body close to his. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two because shit now that he’s got you, he doesn’t think he ever wants to let you go. 

“Y’know…” he starts, “I think we should- I mean- if you want…” nervous now more than he was even after all that just transpired. Cheeks flaring as he meets your amused gaze, just daring him to go on - because you saw through him. You always did. “I lov-”

“Am I late for the mov- WHAT THE FUCK I ALWAYS KNEW BRATS WEREN’T JUST FRIENDS-”

---

Itadori Family Groupchat + Two More

Dad: Hey, all. I can’t seem to get a hold of Choso to confirm tomorrow’s dinner plans. Can anyone else let me know if he’s ok? XX

-Jin.

Yuji <3: He’s probs at rhat “best friend movie night” still 

Dad: Hello, Yuji. What is a “probs”? XX

-Jin.

Kugisaki: He’s suspiciously quiet, though… Y’all think that “best friend movie night” is codeword for something else? 

Yuji <3: Better not be cuz Sukuna stole my sparw key sayin something ab crashing it idk

Kugisaki: *spare

And you just LET him?

Yuji <3: HE THREATENED TO BURN MY MEGAN THEE STALLION POSTER 

…

AND DID IT ANYWAY

Kugisaki: L

Fushiguro: L

Gramps: L

Sukuna (do not answer): DID Y’ALL KNOW THOSE TWO WERE FUCKIN????

*Fushiguro has left the chat*

Dad: :0

-Jin.

A/N. Spiritually, this is a crackfic idk.

[luveline]

𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

Spencer calls you drunk and in need of rescue. You confess a few secrets to him while he won’t remember them (or so you think). 3k, fem

cw drunk!spencer, mentioned past drug use, confident/bombshell!reader, flirting, spencer getting some well deserved comfort, a handful of his drunken compliments, insecurity, intense mutual pining

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’re blissfully sleeping in the arms of a REM cycle when your phone rings. It pulls you by the chest, a punch of shock and expectancy at once. It’ll be someone calling you into work, Hotch himself if you’re lucky. 

You search blindly for your phone. If you’re even luckier, it’ll be a wrong number. Your fingers curl around the little body of your phone and you bring it to your ear without checking the number, frazzled. “Hello?” you ask hoarsely. 

Total quiet. 

“Hello?” You pull the screen away. The caller reads: SPENCER. You pull it back rather than hang up. “Hey, Spencer. Are you there?” 

“Hello.” He laughs. “Hello, are you there?” 

“I’m here, Spencer, where are you?” 

“That’s an interesting question, actually, and I’m sure there’s a great answer, but…” 

“But what?” You sit up quickly, your throat aching with sleep. Your room is black as coal pitch. “Spencer, what time is it, my love?” 

“You shouldn’t call me stuff like that.” 

“Stop being weird and tell me where you are.” 

He laughs like a hyena. You can see it in your mind, his smile and all his pearly perfect teeth. You love it when he smiles like that and he rarely ever does. “I’m somewhere and I need your help getting home!” he says with another funny laugh. 

“Are you alright? You sound…” He sounds inebriated. 

Spencer struggled with his drug problem for so long before you found out. You just hadn’t been around enough, and when you were he’d gotten good at hiding it. You can still remember how furious you’d been with everyone, including him, because you could’ve helped, would’ve done anything to support him through it. If he’s hurting now and hasn’t told you, you love him, but you’ll be insanely angry. 

“Spencer?” you ask quietly. 

“I went for drinks with a girl but she didn’t like me and I may have drowned my sorrows too much,” he admits. “Um. Did you know gin is very strong?” 

“Aw, baby. You’re cheating on me?” 

“I’m afraid so,” he says, and hiccups. 

“Where are you?” 

After some hassle wherein you persuade Spencer to give the phone to someone else in the bar for a slightly less drunk interrogation, you dress and gather your bearings for the drive. You zip a hoodie up over your pyjamas, stuff your feet into some old converse, and set out into the dark to find him. 

He calls you again as you’re parking. “Hello,” he says as soon as you answered. “I need you to come and get me.” 

Spencer called you twice to save him. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s called you to come and get him when he knows he needs help, and that realisation is hard to ignore. “Spencer, I’m two minutes away, I’m parking. You’re still where you were?” 

“Where was I?” 

“At the bar, sweetheart. Are you still there?” It’s scarily dark out and you didn’t grab any sort of defensive measure before you came, which you regret now, climbing out of your car to walk the dimly lit road. The bar glows like a beacon to be followed. 

“Still where?” 

“Did you hit your head?” 

“Not to my knowledge. Though I’m not sure I have much right now. I feel like I’m forgetting everything I’ve ever read, and I’ve read a lot. You know I can read about eighty average length novels in one hour on an e-reader? The buttons make it faster.” 

“You haven’t told me that before.” You shiver against the nighttime winds, footsteps heavy on the grey sidewalk. 

“I’m trying to be more conversational. Emily says it’s not working.” 

“You’re conversational. Isn’t the only condition of being conversational to prompt a conversation? We’re always talking.” 

“…What?” 

You laugh like crazy. “Spencer, you don’t need to change the way you talk.” 

“I annoy people.” 

“You don’t annoy me.” 

You approach the door of the bar, a ramshackle sheet of plywood over what looks to be a glass door. The bar building seems in similar dessaray, with modern features wrecked by scratches and smashed panes. It’s a real dive. Spencer couldn’t have meant to come here. 

You war with both hands to open the door and find yourself faced with a long and empty corridor leading to another door. Worried you’re going to get kidnapped, you bring the phone back to your ear, Spencer’s chatting an immediate greeting. “…telling me I’m doing something wrong without telling me what it is, it’s impossible.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, can you come to the door?” 

“I don’t think I have control of my legs,” he says without inflection. 

“It’s definitely the building with the smashed door?” 

“Yesssss. Are you here?” he asks excitedly. 

“I better not get murdered, Spencer Reid.” 

“Am I in trouble?” 

“How are you even keeping the phone to your ear right now?” 

“I’m on speaker phone. Milly showed me how to do it. Say hi, Milly.” 

“Hi Milly,” a new voice says. 

You rub your eyes with one hand and square your shoulders, prepared to defend yourself if the creepy door leads to a creepier room. 

Spencer is immediately visible from the get go. You open the door on to a rather cosy looking bar, which you’re thinking might be the whole point; wretched exterior, secret attraction. Warm orange light ebbs into the space from sconces and a faux fireplace, while a wrestling match playing from the small TV behind the bar casts brighter light down onto Spencer’s shoulders. He looks out of place, dressed in a white oxford shirt and a suit jacket, his tie loosened and hanging from either side of his neck, compared to the lingering patrons who sit dotted around the room in booths and on barstools. One such patron sits in a plaid shirt and a trucker hat, her hair to her back, thick and dark. 

You hang up the call and put your phone in your pocket. Spencer gasps like he’s been smacked and picks his own phone up from the bar, clicking at buttons with clumsy fingers. “No,” he hums sadly. 

“Spencer,” you say, not wanting to disturb the people spending their sorry-looking night here. “Spencer. Hey, Spence!” 

His phone tips between his fingers. The woman you assume to be Milly catches it and offers it back without looking too far from her beer. 

“Hey,” you say gently, crossing a wide empty space to meet him. The room itself is shaped like a horseshoe, the bar taking up a surprising amount in the centre, and booths and tables placed around it. Spencer’s off of his barstool as you approach, eyes like puppy dog’s, arms extended. “You okay?” you ask. 

You can feel eyes on you both from every angle, but it doesn’t matter, not when Spencer’s falling into your arms (or on to them —he’s surprisingly tall when you aren’t wearing heels). “You alright?” you ask again. 

“You don’t have to be worried, I’m fine.” 

He’s less coordinated in real life than he’d sounded over the phone, his slurring unmissable, his hands like jumping fish as he tries to hug you. It’s weird and straining to take his weight but you do it without complaint. He smells the same, at least, only his cedary cologne is sharpened by the tang of gin on his breath. 

“Thank god you’re here,” he whispers. 

“Why?” you ask, pulling away to check for danger. 

“I missed you.” 

“I missed you too, handsome,” you say, genuine but laying it on thick simultaneously as you ease his head back to cup his cheek. You can’t help yourself. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever met, and it gets worse every year. 

He frowns at you deeply. “I don’t like first dates.” 

“Then don’t go on them,” you suggest, “you don’t need to until you’re ready.” 

“I’m ready for love,” he says. You pull your lips into a flattened line, unsure of what to say, how to explain that it’s waiting for him, but his chin dips towards his neck and his eyes lock onto your face. “You’re not wearing makeup. God, you’re so pretty.” 

You flinch away from him. “Fuck, Spencer.”

“I’m sorry! It’s not that you don’t look pretty with makeup, but I never see you without it!” 

You’d forgotten you weren’t wearing any. Makeup isn’t a shield, exactly, but you like putting your best foot forward, so to speak. You’ve no clue what you look like tonight, hadn’t managed to look in the mirror, you’d been focused on getting to Spencer before he got lost. You can imagine the puffiness.

Spencer touches your cheek. You let him turn you mostly because he’s surprised you, his eyes roving up and down your face with a fawning curiosity. 

“You’re beautiful. You know that already, but people don’t tell you enough,” he says, his hand falling from your cheek. 

“Spencer,” you say softly, “let’s get you home.” 

You thank Milly for her help and grab Spencer’s bag from the floor to hang on your shoulder. You’d make a joke about how heavy it was if you didn’t think he’d take it from you, and, considering how drunk he is, topple over from the imbalance it provides. His shirt is clammy where you push your hand through his arm to link them, his footsteps wobbly. 

“I didn’t want to go on a date,” he says. 

“Then why did you go?” you ask, helping him over the door jam into the long hallway. 

“I don’t want to be alone forever.” 

“Spencer, you won’t be.” It doesn’t feel like the best time to bring up how much you like him. You’re sure he thinks you’re kidding, doesn’t everybody? Don’t torture him, they say. Don’t toy with him. Every time you flirt with him the team acts like you can’t mean it, and for a while it worked for you; you weren’t in love with Spencer. You weren’t playing with his feelings, but you didn’t love him, and then you joined the team and got to know him, watched him fluster at every comment you made or under any soft looking and realised you could love him. It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it. But now he’s determined to write your affection off as a joke and going on dates? 

In the morning, when he’s sober, you’ll have to tell him how you feel. Or you could let him find someone more like him… ugh. It’s such a mess. 

You grapple with the size of your feelings for him as he hums and laughs his way down the hall to the glass door. On the street, he squints and straightens his back, fighting to regain his arm from your hold to cover your shoulder instead. “It’s cold,” he says in surprise. “You okay?” 

“I’m fine, I got my jacket. It’s a short walk, come on.”

His arm stops acting as protection and starts to use you for support. “I didn’t mean to drink so much.” 

“Drowning your sorrows is always a terrible idea because it tends to work,” you lament, less scared of the dark with him at your hip, though what protection he might offer is negated by the alcohol. 

“She kind of looked like you.” 

You squeeze your eyes together quickly. “Oh.” 

“I didn’t know she was going to. But she didn’t– she didn’t– it’s hard to talk. She didn’t listen like you do,” he says, lightly slurring, “she just stared at me like everyone used to in high school. Like she could tell there’s something wrong with me.” 

“Spencer, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“I know,” he says. 

“Do you?” 

“Yes.” He frowns. “No, I don’t know. I don’t feel like there’s something wrong with me,” —his voice turns to a nearly indistinguishable mumble— “but everyone else always does.” 

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.” 

“Is that why you make all your jokes?” 

“What jokes, babe?” 

“Like that! Like babe. It’s funny ‘cos you’d never date me.” 

You’d slow if he weren’t already walking at a snail's pace. “That’s not true. Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?” 

“I won’t remember to ask you in the morning.” 

“Spencer, you remember everything.” 

He drags his feet. “I wish I wasn’t so weird,” he whines. It’s playful at the forefront but desperate otherwise, and it gives you pause. “I wish I was normal, and you could like me normal.” 

You look down at your hands, panicking, a flash of Is this a good idea? like an alarm in your head as you turn on the sidewalk to face him. He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to disagree with him. 

You’re happy to. 

“Spencer, I like you like this,” you insist loudly. His eyes and all his sweet lashes track the movement of your hand as you touch your chest, and your neck. “You’re not normal, I’m not normal. Do you know how many times I’ve been rejected? Just for being me? I’m too bossy, too outspoken, too– too high maintenance. I've had friends with good intentions tell me I need to lower my standards, need to relax, because otherwise I’m going to end up alone for the rest of my life. I feel alone all the time.”

“But you’re perfect,” he says, puzzled. 

“To you. And you’re perfect to me.” Your hand crawls to the base of your throat. “So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. You think I’d come and get anybody else in the middle of the night dressed like this?” you ask him, gesturing to your ratty pyjamas and your dingy converse. 

“You look so cute,” he says mournfully. 

You roll your eyes. He’s too wasted for this conversation. “Come on, sweetheart. You can think about this too much in the morning. Let’s just get home in one piece.” Physically and emotionally. 

“Can I come home with you?” he asks. 

That had always been the plan. “Ask me nicely and I’ll consider it on the way.” 

— — 

Spencer shuts his eyes, hands itching to clap over his ears as you scratch the head of a spatula across your frying pan. “Is three eggs too many? People usually have two but that’s never enough for me.” 

“I think…” Oh my god the metal screeching is so loud. “You should have as many as you want. You know your body. There’s this study on intuitive eating…” I'm too hungover for this. “Three eggs is better than two.” 

“So you want three?” 

He cannot eat right now. “Yes. Please.” 

Spencer’s half sick with dehydration and half grief. He stayed at your house last night and he was too drunk to be nosy. He slept in your bed. He slept in your bed. He woke up to you at your vanity doing your hair, the nutty smell of hair oil mixed with the heat of the hair tool on high and realised with a start that he’d missed something he thought about all the time. 

You’d tipped your head back to smile at him. “There’s my boy. Sweet dreams?” 

He didn’t dream, but if he had, it would’ve been another agonising wish where you were his girlfriend, or his wife, or just there looking at him with love. He wakes up feeling sick because it isn’t true. And now you’re making him breakfast, humming a tune under your breath, sourdough sizzling under the grill and a shoddily blended avocado sitting in the bowl in front of him. 

You asked him for one thing. He picks up the fork and starts to mash the avocado again. He can’t fight the foreignness of sitting in your kitchen, a gap in his memory. 

He knows he told you about his date, how she looked like you, how she didn’t seem to like him much, but he’s struggling to collect the finer details. Why had you picked him up? He must’ve called you, but you could’ve said no. He remembers thinking you looked beautiful, but he always thinks that. 

The avocado is making him feel sick. 

“Here,” you say, sliding a plate of toast in front of him. “Do you want butter?” 

“I think I'm gonna throw up.” 

“You’re okay.”

“I can’t believe how I acted,” he says, pressing his palms to the hollows of his eyes. 

You turn off the hob. Fat bubbles and pops until it’s cooled. The clock on the wall by the refrigerator ticks incessantly. His slept-in shirt feels too tight despite the undone button. 

“Hey…” You round the island but don’t touch him, your voice gentle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He drags his hands down his face. “I can barely remember what I said.” 

“You were really nice to me… told me I looked pretty without my makeup, n’ that I was perfect. You were really nice.” 

Your tone is off. No flirtatiousness, no endless confidence, you sound wistful, like you’re glad he said it. You take the bowl of avocado he’s made a mess with and put it aside with the toast, resting your arm on the counter, and leaning into his space. “Spencer, last night? You didn’t do anything to be embarrassed of. You were nice, and kind. You tried to open the car door for me and you almost lost your eye, but you were fine. You don’t have anything to be worried about, really.”

“But it’s you.” 

“Gonna touch your hair,” you say, giving him enough time to move away as you reach out and rake back his fringe. His heart leaps into his mouth. “You said something last night like that, you know? Do you remember that? You said if you were normal.” You grace the skin beside his eye with the tip of your thumb, your perfume floating his way as you move. “And I said–”

“I’m not normal,” he says, remembering now. 

You’re not normal, I’m not normal, you’d said.

But you’re perfect, he’d said. 

To you. And you’re perfect to me.

“Right. We’re not normal, Spencer Reid, so forget that girl. She didn’t deserve you anyways,” you say. 

You draw a short, silken line down his cheek with the side of your pinky. To be touched so lightly has his stomach in knots —he’s not shocked by the swiftness with which your affection can make a bad situation good again. 

You turn away. “Now we should eat before everything goes cold.” 

He watches your shoulders move, and he remembers one last detail. So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. 

The way you’d said it… you couldn’t really mean…

“How’s your appetite? Still feeling sick?” you ask. 

Spencer smiles to himself, the ghost of your touch glowing warm on his cheek. “I’m feeling a lot better, actually.” 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!!! please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate anything and it always inspires me to write more<3!! my requests are pretty much always open for bombshell!reader (even though this one strays a bit from their usual story haha) so if you wanna see more let me know❤️

[whokilledsamara]

Homicipher pregnancy hc? Especially Mr. Crawling and Mr. Scarlettella pls they're my fav 😭😭 (SFW/NSFW). Ty for all the food, love youuuu.

HOMICIPHER N/SFW PREGNANCY HC

a list of pregnancy hcs for each of the homicipher boys that are ABLE to get you pregnant.

warnings || afab reader, smut, pregnancy kink, soft sex, cunnilingus, rough sex, boob sucking {breast milk}, mention of children in a NON sexual way/completely unrelated to smut

{an: YESS i have a similar request i will also post, love you too!!}

MR. CRAWLING

SFW

at first, he would have absolutely no idea what that is. a mini you? inside of you? very confusing. after a while of explaining though, he definitely will be over the moon! "Small, Us? Happy!"

his favorite activity would be laying his head on your stomach, while you play with his hair. he definitely wants to listen to the baby noises.

the poor man will have no idea what to do, but he definitely will try his best. just ask him for anything, and he will immediately find it for you.

while he usually is crawling, he makes an exception whenever you need– for instance if you are having trouble walking, he will pick you up and carry you. all that crawling builds upper muscles!

he is more territorial, and will growl at the other residents.

he doesn't want you to leave your shared room, and usually will convince you to stay there while he does what he needs to do.

he's definitely a girl dad. he would be happy either way, but a little girl would probably be easier for him to handle— calmness wise.

he doesn't remember his human years, but he always wanted to be a father.

NSFW

will constantly ask to eat you out. he doesn't need anything in return, he just wants to see you happy and enjoying yourself.

could be in between your legs for hours on end– anything for his love. he will come up every now and then, to pepper kisses on your tummy.

if you wish to have penetrative sex with him, he of course will. it will be soft and sensual as usual, and usually in the spooning position.

would never reject you. ever. no matter what it is you want from him.

is definitely the type to have a breeding kink– and knowing you are pregnant with his offspring makes him really happy.

holds his hand on your stomach while he humps into you, his large hand covering almost all of it.

his face will contort into confusion when milk floods his mouth the moment he sucks your nipple. not because its gross to him– he enjoys it actually, but its confusing because that never happened before.

MR. SCARLETELLA

SFW

honestly, the fact that you even accepted him makes him deathly obsessed with you, but you being pregnant with HIS child makes it all the more.

his body will tremble and his face will be flushed while he holds you, desperately holding on to your smaller frame as if afraid to let you go.

he will carry you if asked, but his preferred method would be teleporting you. he does it slower than normal because if he did it fast like he does without you, it would cause motion sickness.

he loves you– obviously. he constantly reminds you. but even when you sleep, he doesn't stop whispering it to you and your unborn baby.

he doesn't always watch you when you need to sleep, but once he finds out you are pregnant its a constant thing. he has to make sure his beloved is safe, along with your child.

you would think he would know he is creepy, which makes it more funny as he stands behind you glaring daggers at whoever you are talking to. almost like a guard dog.

by now, he stopped asking for your name. it might slip every now and then, but a lot less frequently.

NSFW

much like Mr. Crawling, he is usually on his knees, eating you out. whether you prefer to stand or sit, he holds your thighs open and goes to town on your lower region.

he has nice, long, slender fingers– easily reaching those spots inside of you. he will praise how good you are for him and how much he loves you.

he doesn't have a breeding kink, but he never would pull out– hence your pregnancy.

for penetrating sex, he would have you either in the air or on your back- whatever you prefer.

if he finds out you are insecure, he will pleasure you to the point your brain is numb.

he doesn't understand why you get angry, even when you explain it is just pregnancy hormones, but he does enjoy you taking your anger out on him in any way you prefer. definitely has a pain kink.

no matter how many times you tell him you are too heavy, he wants you to sit on his face. he could care less that you have added weight due to the pregnancy– if anything, it makes it better for him

MR. SILVAIR

SFW

of course he knows what pregnancy is, he is a doctor after all– but he definitely didn't think it was possible with a ghost and a human.

he is astonished, but more importantly extremely curious. he definitely will research every part of you– including the baby once it is born. in a safe way of course.

he would definitely get more touchy. usually, he is not a very touchy man other than experimenting, but once he learns of your pregnancy his touches become way more frequent. you are the parent of his child after all.

doesn't have the correct feelings on being a "dad" but would be exceptionally well at it. just subtract the human things from it and he would be wonderful.

he would be very curious on how the baby would come out. would it be half human half ghost? fully human? fully ghost? definitely something he ponders for the whole 9 months.

the type of guy to inspect your breast milk. most likely examine it very closely– finding it fascinating.

would rarely carry you, but also wouldn't be objective of it.

NSFW

as said previously, he had no idea it would even be possible to impregnate you, therefore he had no problem cumming inside. he saw no reason to pull out since you wouldn't get pregnant– or so he thought.

sex would become more frequent. some of the time because he was actually horny, but mostly due to his natural curiosity.

fingers you more frequently than going down on you, so he can watch your facial expressions as he brings you to the edge.

his position would be you sitting on his operating table while he slides into you, a simple and effective position.

will run and rub his hand on your stomach, breasts, or anywhere really.

will be extra careful with anything sex or other related. doesn't want to hurt you at all– even if that means he can't experiment.

he is slightly more possessive, even if he suppresses it. normally he isn't very controlling and allows you to do as pleased, but when you are pregnant, he finds it almost as marking.

MR. CHOPPED {w/ body}

SFW

from the bat, he is more animalistic when he gets his body. he is still how he used to be, but more aloof.

pregnancy is a wild thing for him. he never expected it– but he definitely is excited.

he cuddles with you non-stop. very much enjoys listening to your heartbeat.

funny enough, he will cut his nails for you. usually they are long and sharp, but he doesn't want to hurt you or the baby.

walks with and follows you everywhere, and is literally a guard dog.

will have his face shoved in your neck and arms around you when you talk with people, as to remind them who you belong to.

NSFW

kisses you while he ruts into you, holds you up as well.

he tries to go soft when he fucks you, but sometimes he gets too hurried. he isn't used to having a body.

will eat you out like a starving animal. all up in there for hours. his hands hold open your thighs until you are whining for him to stop.

he usually keeps you on your back, so you aren't putting weight on the baby.

he will definitely whine a lot, moaning about how happy he is to breed you, etc.

MR. HOOD

SFW

top ten girl dad. he's so cute.

doesn't express love, so that is the only negative. would and has died many times for you and your child though.

he holds you inside of his coat, keeping you close to him as you walk through the halls. will absolutely under no circumstances allow danger near you.

the residents are usually not afraid of him due to his calm and non-hostile nature, but fear slowly creeps into people at his suddenly hostile nature.

he is slightly bummed that he can't kiss you, because he has no face, but he opts to hold you as close as possible.

when the child is born, he carries it inside of his cloak or on his shoulders.

his ghostly hands will run along your stomach and up your arms, sometimes giving you light massages when he can.

NSFW

doesn't have a problem with you being pregnant at all, but it still is surprising for both the fact that he is a ghost and also only has tentacles, not a physical penis.

his main source of pleasure for both of you when you are pregnant is his tentacles, but he also uses his fingers from time to time. he has even let you hump his thigh when you wanted.

he can't have you in the usual position with you on all fours, as to not damage your stomach, so he keeps you sitting while he gets to work.

if you wish, he also will allow you to be on top. your weight wont affect him at all.

sex with him is ALWAYS soft. even without you being pregnant. he is a really calm guy, not aggressive in any way unless absolutely necessary.

carries you in the bridal position often.

MR. GAP

SFW

originally when you told him, he didn't say anything. he just stared at you before disappearing. what you thought was anger, was actually him just going to Mr. Silvair to ask what that meant.

even with his questions answered, he was relatively nonchalant about it. not much else he could do honestly.

you did notice slight changes in his demeanor though. small things like hissing at people through the cracks in the walls, or not allowing you to leave his location.

tied to that, he often kept you near him at all times. usually you would be stuck to his side or under his arm, but it didn't matter to him.

he was always sassy, but tended to be much calmer while you were pregnant. he even stayed when you would cry from pain/hormones.

he became gentler with you, not tossing or snatching you like he would previously.

you would be given many little gifts he would find, either without you knowing or just blatantly giving it to you.

he would do many experimental touches, both confused and curious. he liked your breasts though, of course.

NSFW

wall sex. constantly. almost every opportunity he had, he would bend you against the wall and rail you.

very rarely would he be soft, but if you asked him to he would slow down.

his hand never left your stomach, sometimes having both on it in your bent over position.

he finds your pregnancy hot. he likes how your stomach grows, breasts enlarge, and hips grow wider. big turn on for him.

he also enjoys eating your cunt from behind, also in the bent over position. if you are up for it, he will eat your ass too. likes the view of your pregnant stomach and breasts hanging slightly.

fingering would be just as rough as usual with him. still very very good though, he hits all the right places.

he's weird, he would absolutely squeeze your breast hard and watch milk squirt from it. even when you tell him its gross, he laughs and does it again.

kisses also become more frequent, both lips and stomach.

MR. MACHETE

SFW

dude does not care at all, just shrugs and walks away.

when you catch up to him again and explain it to him, he smirks and goes "More, Fight?" meaning he wants to fight the kid too.

you would have to slap his arm and tell him no, only for him to shrug again. "Disappointed."

when realization hits him, it definitely makes him groan. he doesn't want to have to take care of a kid, but he still wont leave you. he isn't THAT bad.

eventually he would warm up to it, going softer on you and not attempting to fight you as often.

will begrudgingly carry you around, even though you didn't ask him to. he will try to tell you its not because he cares, but you know better.

the type of guy to throw his machete at someone for looking at you wrong.

he does enjoy wrapping you in his arms, like a small toy.

much like Mr. Hood, when the baby is born and grows to an actual child, he will carry it on his shoulders and be genuinely friendly.

NSFW

you're gonna be sore for days. pregnant or not, he doesn't change his pace. he keeps you on top of him while he is sitting, and bounces you up and down like a doll.

easily manhandles you, the extra weight doing absolutely nothing for him.

will also hold your stomach up while he pounds you from behind.

will tease you by saying things like "Going to, Make, Two" just to piss you off.

he doesn't go down on you often. not because he doesn't want to, but because of his sharp teeth. it doesn't affect him either way though.

he has rough and calloused fingers, perfect for fingering you, rough ad always even during your pregnancy.

again, doesn't care that you are pregnant and will still mark you.

also the kind of guy to get off on squeezing breast milk out of you. even when you slap his hands away.

very much enjoys a boob job with your enlarged chest, and will cum all over your face from it.

thank u for reading, ily all 🥺

{ made by @whokilledsamara }