#if he is happy ace week to him too!!
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swimmingchicken9 · 1 month ago
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HAPPY ACE WEEK TO JACK TOWNSEND!!
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peridots-pixiwolf · 2 years ago
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[Start ID. A digital drawing of Minos Prime from Ultrakill, who's wearing a strapless slit dress and sandals of the same deep purple. He faces towards and slightly to the right of the camera, his head is tilted further right. With one hand he gestures in a vague pointing motion, his arm folded and held close to his body. There is nothing in the background, but bracing himself on one arm, Minos is implied to be leaning against something about the height of a countertop. The background is a blank purplish black, save for three diagonal stripes in the colors of the bisexual flag. End ID]
Shading study that quite literally came to me in a dream two weeks ago, after this post apparently beamed itself into my mind
(also a few edits below the cut! they're very slight but whatever :])
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[Start ID. Three different versions of the previous drawing. The first changes the tone of the lighting from blue to pink, and similarly the shading from pink to blue. The second replaces the faint black border with pink, purple and blue, syncing with the stripes in the background. The third combines both these changes. End ID]
#the tags got NERFED so let's try this again.#peridots-art#minos prime ultrakill#ultrakill#ask to tag#organs#...? gore maybe? for the whole ''transparent chest/visible cardiovascular system'' thing. not very detailed/realistic though so#i don't think this has all of the same charm as i usually find in my posts. but i tried my best to make it work so i don't think it matters#also ''not too happy with how this turned out'' is something i've seen tacked onto posts worthy of being preserved in museums#i heard someone say his snakes should be ball pythons. i'm not autistic about snakes so i decided to listen to the masters#i still have seven levels to p-rank before i can meet this guy!! halfway there (lust/greed and 1-3 remaining) i've only had my own copy#of ultrakill for a week and i already have 33 hours in. anyway he's grown on me i think. absolute bi king and only monarch i respect <3#i think it's interesting how i now define my queerness by being gray-ace and trans when i first only identified with bisexual. it's still#an important part of me even if sometimes i forget. sorry that sounds completely unrelated but it's related to my feelings on this piece#anyway (i wonder how many ''anyway''s i've slapped on so far) i also find it interesting how often people draw him with this body type.#i think it's cool there's variety in how people draw the uk characters. it just kinda feels right here? i know i unfortunately don't draw#fat characters often at all (partially due to being a primarily fandom blog who likes to stick to canon designs. i wouldn't say i have#trouble with drawing a realistic amount of fat even on rather thin people though lol) but i try! also genuinely unsure what counts as like.#fat vs chubby? or whatever? i don't know exactly how the terminology works and a fair amount of minos' bulk is muscle anyway but. yeah 👍#men are pretty in dresses my final message. goodbye
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theoryofarson · 2 years ago
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p'jojo u will PAY
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sceletaflores · 2 months ago
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slippin' and slidin' all over you!
pair: logan howlett x fem!reader
wc: 4k
contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, sweating, mutual masturbation, sweat licking (i don't know???), not-so-dry humping, p in v, JUST THE TIP RAHHH, creampie, fingering (fem!recieving), oral sex (fem!receiving), come swapping, come eating, literally over four thousand words of pure nasty smut, this is gross lowkey, idk i'm h*rny, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.
nat’s note: very much not the winner or even an option of the poll i posted last week but...shhh don't hate me. it’s october and over 80 every single day, what the fuck is that? only good thing that came from this heat is thoughts of nasty sweaty sex with logan. once again shoutout to my wonderful husband @ebodebo for reading this over for me (i successfully changed her vendetta against sucking up some man sweat...which was the real point of this fic tbh) go give her fics some love if you're a slut for ghost! kisses!
logan forgot to fix the ac...
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It's too hot out to be alive. 36°C and sunny.
One of the hottest days in recent memory for Alberta, and you're really feeling it.
"Remind me," you say slowly, the first words spoken in almost ten minutes. "How many times did I ask you to fix the air conditioner?"
"Don't start," Logan says from his spot across the room. His head is tipped back to rest on the couch cushion, eyes slipped shut.
You ignore him, lazily rolling your head to the side to look at him through squinted eyes, your brows furrowed in thought. "Was it ten? Or maybe thirteen?"
Logan huffs a breath, slow and heavy, but he doesn't move--doesn't even open his eyes. “I said don’t start,” he mutters again, though there’s the faintest edge of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.
"Don't worry baby," you say, voice pitched lower in a terrible impersonation of Logan. "I'll get to it, promise. Won’t get too hot for another couple months."
Logan finally cracks an eye open, just enough to give you a sideways glance, his mouth twitching with amusement. "You done?"
You hum noncommittally, the sound lingering in the air like the lazy summer breeze doing nothing to cool the temperature outside. Your gaze slips down the side of his face to trace the jut of his jaw, then lower to the sweaty column of his neck. 
Both you and Logan lost most of your clothes earlier in the day, too hot to bother wearing anything but underwear. You trudged around the house like zombies until you finally gave up on trying to be productive, you both ended up in the living room. 
All the windows are cracked open, trying in vain to let in any cool air. You claimed the armchair closest to the fan, refusing to be anywhere near Logan and the massive heat wave he constantly gives off.
Logan’s on the couch, stripped down to the thinnest pair of sleep shorts you’ve ever seen. His chest is bare, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat that mats the dark hair dusted along his pecs to his skin. 
You can’t help the way your eyes follow the drops of moisture that slide slowly down the contours of his abs. A low heat starting to swirl through your gut when it disappears into his happy trail.
It's funny. When you basically peeled yourself off your mattress this morning, sex was the absolute last thing on your mind.
Now, as your eyes glide over the strong expanse of Logan's body on full display, you're having second thoughts.
Maybe it just comes with the heat. That sort of slow, syrupy feeling that slides along your overheated skin to pulse pleasantly between your thighs.
A bead of sweat slides down the length of your spine slowly, falling until it soaks into the damp waistband of your panties. You try to not notice how Logan is halfway across the room, not touching you.
You fail.
“It’s just a shame, though,” you start, fingers idly toying with the hem of your tank top. “If it was cooler, I could come over there.”
You slide a leg up, letting it rest against the wooden rest, newly exposed skin gleaming under the sunlight filtering in. 
The move isn't lost on Logan. You see his jaw clench slightly, the tiniest shift in his posture.
"Something you wanted?" Logan asks, his voice going low and teasing. "Looks like you've been gettin' yourself all worked up over there."
“Just thinking,” you reply, shifting slightly on the sticky leather of the chair.
Logan’s fingers twitch at his sides, his chest rising and falling with slow, measured breaths. His eyes slide the rest of the way open, his gaze heavy and lingering as it ventures down to where your thin shirt sticks to your skin, outlining every curve.
“Oh yeah?” he prompts, his voice a little rougher now. “Thinkin’ about what, baby?”
“You,” you say easily, fingers slipping down to your thigh. You bring your other leg up, perching it against the opposite armrest. Your thighs spread wide enough that you know Logan has a full view of the wet spot growing along the gusset of your panties.
The hitch in Logan’s breath has you stifling a smug smile, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch the way his chest starts rising faster.
"That's real sweet, sugar," he drawls, an unimpressed look on his face as he drags his eyes back up to your own. "But if you're tryin' to get me over there, you're gonna have to do better than that." His voice slides through the air heavy and warm like molasses.
You bite back a grin, enjoying the slow game that's unfolding between the two of you. 
"Maybe I don’t want you to come over here," you let your fingers trail a little lower, just to the edge of your panties, teasing. “Maybe I like you right where you are.”
Logan’s brow raises, his thighs tensing before he spreads them just a touch wider. The fabric of his boxers goes taut over the strong muscle, riding up to expose even more hairy skin to your greedy eyes.
"You're playin' with fire, kid," he warns.
The tent in his shorts is obvious now, the hard length of his cock pressing against the fabric where it lays across his thigh. Your other hand twitches by your side at just the sight, your pussy throbbing with the sudden need to be filled.
"Am I?" you murmur, your fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties, just enough to make sure he knows exactly where this is headed. ”It’s not like you’re going to do anything about it, you’re too busy pouting."
With a deliberate slowness, you slide your fingers lower, brushing against your clit with just enough pressure to let out a soft gasp at the contact. You arch your back slightly, relishing in the way the air feels against your skin, hot and sticky.
You want him to see how badly you need him—how his heat is the only thing that could truly satisfy the insatiable ache building between your legs.
Logan's nostrils flare, jaw tightening and eyes darkening at the sight of you teasing yourself. His restraint is slipping, and you can practically feel the tension building in the room, thick and stifling like the oppressive summer heat. 
But he still doesn’t move, doesn’t rush over like you expect him to. Instead, he shifts his hips slightly, spreading his legs wider and letting his hand fall on his thigh. 
You can’t help the way your breath quickens at the sight, the way his fingers drift dangerously close to his own growing bulge, teasing you just as much as you’re teasing him. 
You tilt your head to the side, gazing at him through your lashes. “You're really just gonna leave me hanging?” you goad, fingers circling lazily around your sensitive clit. “Come on stud, whip it out.”
Logan chuckles low, a sound that sends shivers through you. "Is that what you want, baby?" he asks, voice thick and taunting, a smirk curling on his lips. “You want me to whip it out for you?”
“Yeah,” you murmur breathlessly, biting your lip as you maintain eye contact, your breath starting to come in short bursts. “I need to see you, Logan. Need to see how hard you are for me.”
“Need to, huh,” he muses slowly, fingers finally grazing over the hard length of his cock. “What’s in it for me?”
“How about this?” You slip your hand out from your ruined panties, fingers glistening with your own wetness as you hook your thumbs on either side and drag them down your legs.
You let the soaked cotton fall to the floor, leaving you completely exposed to him.
Logan’s pupils dilate, an inky black completely swallowing the warm hazel. He licks his lips slowly, the tip of his tongue running along his teeth like he wants to sink them into you. His cock twitches visibly beneath his shorts, the growing tension in the air between you thick enough to choke on.
“Fuck,” he breathes out, his voice low and gravelly, more of a growl than a word.
You smile, shifting in the chair to give him an even better view, your legs spreading wider. "Yeah?" you purr, running your fingers over your slick inner thigh, feeling the heat radiating from your own skin. “You like what you see?”
Logan swallows hard, his hand finally slipping beneath the waistband of his shorts, palming his cock as he watches you. “You know I do,” he says, voice rougher than before. 
You let your hand trail back down to your clit, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles as you hold his gaze. “Then show me, Logan,” you whisper, your voice almost a plea now. "I wanna see you."
Logan lets out a low, rumbling groan, his fingers making quick work of shoving his shorts down enough to free his cock. It springs free to slap lewdly against his stomach and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips at the sight.
He strokes himself slowly to start, his eyes locked on you, watching your every reaction, feeding off the way your chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths.
"Like this?" he asks, his tone taunting as he strokes himself from base to tip, his thumb swiping over the head with a low hiss. “That what you wanted?”
Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, straining and in his hand. The sight of his thumb brushing over the tip of his cock sends a hot, electric pulse through your body, your hand between your legs moving in time with his slow strokes.
"Yeah," you whisper, voice trembling with need. "Just like that."
You slip your hand lower, sliding two fingers inside yourself with a low moan. Logan groans like he’s the one being touched, his hand speeds up, eyes glued to where your fingers disappear in your slick heat.
His cock leaks pre-come over his knuckles each time his fist passes over the dripping head, the wet sound of it mixing with the low hum of the fan and your own breathy sighs.
"You look so fuckin' good like this honey," Logan groans, his voice rough, strained. "All spread out, playing with that pretty pussy for me."
You whimper at his words, your body aching for more than just your own touch. You need him, need the feel of his rough hands on your skin, his mouth, his cock—anything.
Your fingers move faster, slipping deeper inside with each pump, but it’s still not enough. The stretch is nothing compared to taking Logan, to the feeling of him carving a place for his thick cock inside your pussy, hitting that spot inside you that your fingers can’t quite reach.
Your hips buck up towards your hand, your back arching off the chair as your free hand clutches the armrest tightly.
Logan’s pace quickens, his fist pumping his cock with a new urgency, heavy balls bouncing with every rough tug.
“God, look at you, such a needy fuckin’ thing” he growls, chest heaving as his gaze flicks between your flushed face and the glistening mess you’re making of yourself like he can’t decide where to look. “You want it bad, don’t you?”
"Please," you whine, desperation creeping into your voice. Too keyed up to draw this out any longer. “I need you inside me, Logan. I can’t take it anymore.”
Logan groans, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest. His hand falters slightly on his cock, squeezing hard around the base as your words push him dangerously close to the edge. His jaw clenches, eyes raking over you, and with a growl, he stands. 
The last threads of his restraint snapping.
 He crosses the room in two long strides, towering over you where you sit. His cock swollen and hard, sways between his legs with every step, glistening with pre-come that drips to the floor. His eyes, hooded and burning, drink you in as he reaches down, yanking your hand away from your slick heat.
“Thought you said it was too hot to move,” you tease breathlessly, unable to quit egging him on even when your legs start to tremble with need, spreading wider to welcome him.
Logan ignores you, tugging your hand to his lips. Your breath catches in your chest, a weak moan escaping you as he takes your soaked fingers in his mouth. His tongue swirling along your skin to taste you, his eyes never leaving yours as he does.
“Changed my mind,” he growls, strong hands rough and possessive as they drop your wrist and haul you out of the chair so he can spin around, collapsing into it with you in his lap. The wood gives a warning creak beneath you but neither of you care.
Not when his mouth is on yours, hot and demanding as he slides his tongue past the seam of your lips. The heat radiating off his body is suffocating, but you welcome it—craving the weight of him on you.
You melt against him, feeling the hard planes of his body against yours, every inch of him alive and pulsating with need. Logan’s hands find their way to your hips, fingers digging in just enough to send a rush coursing through you.
It’s intoxicating, the way he devours you, his hands exploring every inch of your back, grasping and pulling you impossibly closer. 
The hard jut of his cock presses against your thigh, a thick plane of heat that makes your pussy throb with need. You shift your hips, grinding down on him in messy circles.
“You feel that?” he growls, lips brushing against your ear. “That’s all for you, darlin’.”
“Need you,” you whimper, grinding down against him faster, desperate for the friction that sends pleasure rippling through you. “Please, Logan, I need you inside me now.”
“Hold on, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, sending sparks all up your spine.
He dips his head, capturing your lips again, while his hands roam hungrily down your sides, fingers curling around your thighs to urge your legs open wider. “You wanna tease me, you’re gonna have to get off just like this.”
Logan angles his hips so that his cock slips between your drenched folds the next time you roll your own down.
The hot, slick glide sends electric shocks of pleasure racing through you, your body responding instinctively to his touch. You gasp against his lips, fingers tangling in his hair as you push down, desperate for more.
“God, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” he growls, his voice dripping with lust as he watches your movements with hungry eyes. “Just for me, huh? She’s droolin’ just for me.”
You nod breathlessly, chasing the friction, craving the feel of him so close. You lift your hips and rock back down again, the blunt head of his cock brushing against your swollen clit, and you feel your body pulse in response. 
“More,” you plead, leaning in to nibble at his lower lip. “I need it.”
Logan pulls away, shaking his head with a wicked grin. “Come on, tough shot,” he says, giving your ass a quick smack and kneading the tender flesh in his hand roughly. “You’re gonna come like this, you can do it baby.”
You whine, dropping your chin to your chest. Your hands find his shoulders, nails digging crescent moons into the strong muscle. Your chest slips slickly against his, the front of your tank almost entirely soaked with sweat.
Yours or his, it doesn't matter. The white cotton turned transparent enough that your breasts are on full display, nipples hard and visible.
You watch a single bead of sweat make its way down the length of his throat. It trickles down and down and down until it dips between the pronounced muscles of his chest.
You duck your head, dragging your tongue up the valley of his pecs. A deep moan bursts from your lips, pussy drooling more slick over Logan’s cock at the coarse feel of his thick hair on your tongue, at the heady taste of his sweat filling your senses.
Logan groans, hands tightening their hold on your waist. The dull ache his strength leaves behind is enough to let you know that two hand shaped bruises will be blooming over your skin by tomorrow morning. 
“Come on, girly,” he encourages, nipping at the sweaty column of your throat, the sharp points of his teeth scraping along the sensitive skin deliciously. “Fuck me, give it to me good.”
Your hips speed up, his hard cock sliding through the slick folds of your cunt faster. The tip bumps against your clit deliciously with every move, smearing pre-come along the way to add even more to the mess between your legs.
“Gonna fuckin’ fill you up,” he groans, breath puffing warm and hot agasint the slick skin of your lips. “Pump you so full of my come you’ll be leakin’ for a goddamn week.”
He shifts underneath you, the tip of his cock catching on your entrance just enough for it to push inside on the next grind of your hips.
The barely there fullness has you coming with a sharp cry, nails roughly dragging down Logan’s back hard enough to leave red welts that heal as you go.
The pain mixing with the pleasure of finally getting to feel the warm, wet suction of your pussy has Logan coming with a rough shout of your name. He throws his head back, hands tightening their grip on your hips enough to have your bones grinding together as he pumps you full of his come. 
“Logan…” you mewl, your pussy fluttering over the tip of his cock, greedy little clenches like you're trying to suck him the rest of the way in. Drunk on the way his release paints your insides, how you can feel each thick spray coating your walls to claim you in the rawest way.
Logan pulls back just far enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and smoldering as he watches you squirm in his lap.
"You’re not tapping out on me already, are you?" he teases, his voice rough and gravelly. "I thought you were tougher than that."
A weak, breathy laugh escapes you, but it’s cut short when he applies just a little more pressure, making your thighs quiver. "Not tapping out," you manage between shallow breaths, your head falling back against the chair. "But you’re—fuck—you’re insatiable."
Logan smirks, leaning in to nip at the sensitive skin of your throat, his teeth scraping just enough to send shivers coursing through you.
"When it comes to you, baby?" he murmurs against your skin, the heat of his breath fanning over your pulse point. "Fuckin’ always."
A lazily smile takes over your lips as you tighten your core and push, the rest of Logan’s come leaking out over his fingers. Logan groans, pressing his forehead to your shoulder to try and ground himself.
His cock throbs where it sways heavily between his thighs, still hard and ready to go even after he just came. His hand slips down your body, thick fingers running through the creamy mess of come and slick to messily push it back inside you.
“Fuckin’ shit, honey,” he groans lowly, pressing his thumb to your clit. “You’re gonna kill me.” 
Before you can respond, he stands again, gently placing your trembling form back into the chair and dropping to his knees in front of you.
Your breath hitches, legs widening despite the way your pussy shakes with overstimulation, like you can’t help but spread your legs for Logan anytime he wants.
Logan smirks up at you from between your legs, his lips already ghosting over the inside of your thigh. "Look at you," he growls, voice low and filled with lust. "Still so needy."
The slick heat of his tongue runs along your folds, lapping at the mess he just made of you. You let out a sharp gasp, thighs trembling as your fingers weave into his hair, tugging him closer.
The sensation is overwhelming—the rough, demanding pace of his tongue as it swirls around your clit, teasing you, while his hands grip your thighs with bruising force. Keeping you exactly where he wants you, keeping you spread open for his tongue.
Your body arches off the chair with a loud cry, every nerve alight with raw pleasure as he feasts on you, his growls vibrating against your sensitive skin.
"Fuck! Logan," you moan breathlessly, head falling back as you try to keep up with the sensations he's pulling from you.
The heat that was pooling low in your belly reignites, stoked by the way his tongue flicks faster against your clit, each stroke sending you higher.
Logan doesn’t let up, his tongue delving deeper, drinking in every moan, every shaky gasp as he drives you closer to the edge. He moans into your pussy, his own arousal clear in the way his hips buck into the air, seeking any kind of friction.
You tug on his hair harder, desperate for more, for release. "Logan, please," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper, thick with need.
"Atta’ girl," he rasps, his voice thick with desire as he watches your face contort with pleasure. "So fuckin’ pretty like this. You gonna give me another one, baby? Gonna come for me again?"
Every lick, every rough squeeze to your thighs, every teasing stroke sends you spiraling closer to that edge you’re dying to reach again. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his breath hot against your soaked skin and driving you wild.
“Logan, I—” You gasp, fingers tightening in his hair, urging him closer, closer, closer. “I’m so close—”
His eyes flick up to meet yours, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, nose and jaw glistening in your juices.
"Give it to me," he growls, the rough rasp of his voice sending a shiver through your overheated body. "I wanna feel you come on my tongue."
It’s all the encouragement you need. With a strangled cry, your body tenses, thighs quaking as the orgasm crashes over you.
Logan keeps his mouth on you, tongue working you through every pulse, drawing it out until you’re trembling and gasping, your body boneless in the chair.
When you finally come down, panting and spent, Logan pulls away. With one last kiss pressed over your clit, he makes his way up your body, not dropping eye contact as he settles over you.
His hand comes up to your face, thumbs meanly hooking into either side of your cheeks to gently force your mouth open. You part your lips willingly, the heat still radiating between you, a mix of lingering pleasure.
Logan leans in, and the intoxicating scent of sweat and sex surrounds you as he spits what he collected from between your legs back into your own mouth. 
Your cheeks burn with shame, a broken moan ringing through the space between you. Your glassy eyes stare into Logan’s, his own gaze so intense and all consuming you fight the urge to squirm.
"Swallow," he commands, unwavering. 
You hesitate for just a moment, caught off guard by the pure audacity, but the way his eyes darken with hunger makes your resolve crumble. With a breathless whimper, you obey, tasting the remnants of your own pleasure mingling with his, the act both humiliating and intensely arousing.
Logan watches you closely, his gaze never straying as you swallow, a dirty smirk creeping onto his lips. “That's my girl,” he praises, his tone thick with satisfaction.
As the taste lingers on your tongue, you can feel the weight of Logan’s stare like a physical touch.
“Think you can handle another round?” he teases, his voice low and sultry. “I don’t plan on letting you off that easy, kid. Not with all that mouthing off earlier.”
You catch your breath, shaking your head in exasperation. “You’re relentless,” you whisper, a hint of laughter in your voice, though your body betrays you, already craving more.
“Only for you, baby” he replies, brushing the strands of hair plastered to your sweaty forehead behind your ear. “Only for you.”
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tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!
mini nat's note: i started my period today chickens...that explains it...
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plumipal · 3 months ago
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The Tattoo (part two)
After scarabias overblot, and seeing what ace and Deuce were willikg to do for you, you were so touched that you decided ro get them tattooed on your body as a small heart and a spade. After that chaos ensues-
If you wanna read the whole prolouge, then it's here
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Floyd feels a lot. He feels betrayed and enraged over the tattoo, feeling the urge to fight those two damn guppies you call friends. How dare you betray your mate like this, you were meant to be! Atleast he will show you that he will fight for his mate, if that's good or bad that's for you to decide...
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He hates the tattoo, yet as much as he hates it he can't really put the anger onto you. It's that damn mackerel and crabs fault! They must have forced you into it! Don't worry, like the good mate he is he will mark over their dumb marks, showing who's boss. He hates hurting you but he needs to do what has to be done to show that you're his...
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Jade is... off. As soon as he hears about the tattoo his composure just, shatters. He cant understand why you would play him like this, you're quite cruel aren't you? Playing him like this, making him lose his composure... you want him to kill to show how much he cares? Because he will- in fact, he will use any dirty tricks in the book to make sure he wins, magic or not..
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If magic won't work, he will result to desperately trying to insert himself into your life more than he already has. You'll have a personal butler at this point, one begging for your attention and affection,, to think all this started because of a harmless tattoo...
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Azul is about to throw up. The world is spinning, he feels like he is about to throw up. This can't be happening, right?? You, you really hate him don't you? Why else would you get those two troublemakers a tattoo but not him...
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The desperation gets worse, the longer he thinks about it. He cant stop crying, having to lock himself in the vip lounge so nobody sees how this issue has reduced him to a sobbing little crybaby. The desperation turns somewhat into determination, the urge to write up the best contract ever to make you happy, maybe throw in a little condition where you need to get a matching tattoo with him..
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Jamil is about to have another overblot. He, he is the reason? His overblot? He can't, he cant take it. Being the main reason for the tattoo makes him lose his mind. He avoids you for a week, nor being able to look at you without losing his composure and crying on the spot.
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Desperation grows, turing ugly. He cant control himself, searching you out after a week of not seeing you. He begs for forgiveness, for you to not hate him, please, he begs you... He needs you, he needs you in his life, he needs you to love and cherish him, to be your number one.
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Kalim feels off. This is one of the few times where he doesn't get what he wants. It's an unknown feeling, a hated feeling. He could be fine with anything else, bur a tattoo of your friends? Isn't he your friend too?? Is it because of the overblot that happened at his dorm? He will get you anything if it means that you'll forgive him! Please, he is begging you..
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The jealousy grows, turning into an ugly mess. He cant help but hate on the Adeuce duo, hating them for taking you from him. He tries to endlessly gift you anything you look at for more than a second, trying to get you to spend countless hours at scarabia with several parties a week that always end in a romantic carpet ride. He tries really hard, okay? Just let him show you he is the best choise...
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Epel is enraged, how dare you? The emotions get too intense, and he storms off. He cant believe you, picking favourites in your group? They may have been there before you but he loves you way more than they could ever love you!
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He is in constant state of dissaray the first day, his anger rising the more he thinks about it. The anger stops being directed towards you and instead those two dumbasses, Ace and Deuce. He cant stand their asses! Going straight to battle living shit out of them.
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Only, that isn't how it goes for him. He gets his ass kicked with everyone he tries to fight, getting so beat up he can barely stand up straight. Oh well, he can atleast leech off of you to nurse him back to health. You have to, please, he is begging for some alone time with you...
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Also please someone help him with getting a new blazer, his old one is currently torn to shreds. The fights he got into wasn't really that good for him, since he is trying to fight people twice his size. Only for you, he would only go so far for you...
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Rook feels... nothing. He can't bring himself to feel emotions currently, too stuck up on the tattoo. Sure, it's such a beautiful thing you care enough for someone that you would permanently etch that into your body. But why? Why couldn't it have been him? He is your friend too (he wish he was more to you, but that can wait, he will wait eons for you, only you)...
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You feel bad for the man, wondering why he was so down all of the sudden. You still care about him (you care for everyone, they're you're friends after all), deciding to let him stay the night at ramshackle. He is forever grateful for your endless kindness, swearing to get into your good graces just so he can one day also get a tattoo..
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Vil is desperate, he is emotional. The pain of not only comming second, but THIRD in your heart, it feels like you are stabbing him over and over again in the heart. He cant breathe, he cant stop the tears wellinh up in his eyes, he cant stop the emotions overflowimg his poor body. Why would you do something so heinous to this poor actor, he only wanted your love...
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He has been acting since he was a little kid, yet this time he cant control his emotions, the stakes are too high. Your love is on the line! He can't stand to look himself in the mirror, feeling way too ugly for his emotions, his outbursts, his feelings. He wants to be enough for you, and he will do anything to achieve that..
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THERES PART TWO DONE!!! The literal biggest thank you to @artdolliewishes for helping so much and expanding on the au with me!! It means so much to me that someone cares about a project I've done as much as I do :,)
Also I'm very sorry for being so delayed on posting, I went to the ER and all, I swear the students of nrc was trying to kill me lmao
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forgwater · 8 months ago
Text
"Ah, yes. Me, my beloved Prefect and my lookalike tsum from another dimension."
Twst Boys and their reactions to you cuddling their tsum instead of them Headcanons
part 1 part 2 part 3
tagging: @darkflowerav
Trey Clover
This might as well happen.
The Universe just keeps throwing things Treys way doesn't it...
He was hoping for a chill night.
But no. The tsum had to mess that up.
It's fine. He's not gonna get jealous of a plush toy.
He'll let you have your fill of cuddles from the tsum.
But beware should you only show affection to the tsum and ignore his open arms he will pay you back for the entire next week by not giving you cuddles and kisses.
He doesn't hold grudges, he swears.
He does. He holds grudges.
Ace Trappola
Come on!
He's right here you know!
He can see you ignoring him and only paying attention to this tsum!
He swears it is looking down on him. Ugh!
.... Is this about the joke he made this morning? It was just a joke! He already apologized.
No, Deuce, he's not jealous! (he is.)
He already got teased all day about this!
Cuddle him? Pretty please???
He's giving you puppy eyes. The tsum redirects your attention back to it every singe time he does.
Ace is not amused.
Ruggie Bucchi
After a full day of running errands and looking after his tsum, Ruggie is ready to fall into bed and your arms.
Hey, what's the tsum doing here?
Oh, well, fine. It can have one corner of the bed.
What do you mean you plan on cuddling it to sleep and not him???
But he needs your cuddles! They're the best part of his day! ...Night?
Anyways! You promised him cuddles and one single hug won't do it.
He'd use his UM and make you up the tsum away... but he doesn't want to see you upset.
So as long as you promise to drown him in affection tomorrow, he'll let you have the tsum for the night.
You do wake up in the middle of the night with Ruggie hugging you. He's also not letting go.
Jamil Viper
He just can't catch a break, can he?
He'll live.
Jamil is not happy about the new arrangement. But he'll have to make do.
When you ask him about the sour look on his face he says he's fine.
He's obviously not thrilled about the tsum.
So you decide the three of you will cuddle.
You're pretty sure Jamil and his tsum are side eyeing each other.
Neither on of them moves tho. So it should be fine... right?
You'll make it up to Jamil tomorrow for letting you have your cuddles with his plush lookalike.
Vil Schoenheit
Vil enjoyed his tsums company well enough.
It was not doing anything that would get either one of them in trouble.
What a well mannered tsum. He expected no less.
Vil allowed it to be pampered by you for the day.
And he's even allowing it to sleep in the bed with the two of you. As long as it makes you happy he's willing to make a few exceptions.
But this is ridiculous!
You're not even paying attention to him!
Him! Vil Schoenheit! YOUR BOYFRIEND.
It's been such a long day and you're lavishing all of your attention on a plush and not him!
This is unacceptable!
...Perhaps he should test the new makeup products he just got on the tsum first.
And you! You'll have to make it up to him with lots of affection. Tomorrow.
Idia Shroud
It's okay. He'll just... play some games.
Idia knew you wouldn't be able to resist the cuteness of a tsum. They're perfectly made to be cuddled with.
It's alright. He expected this.
He can't really complain when it's HIS tsum that's making you so happy.
.....
BUT WHY THE HELL DOES HE FEEL LIKE HE'S THIRD WHEELING THE TWO OF YOU!?!??!
HE'S YOUR BOYFRIEND.
The tsum should respect this and back of a little!
A few cuddles here and there are fine! But come on! Pay some attention to him too!
At this point Idia can feel his hair turning orange.
You better calm down your gamer boyfriend before some unsuspecting player gets caught in the crossfire.
Malleus Draconia
So far Malleus has been unbothered with the tsum appearances.
They're quite interesting creatures.
He's been happily spending time with his lookalike. It's good to have an ice cream eating buddy.
Truly, he's enjoyed the company.
Malleus thought nothing of it when you brought the plush in the bed.
He was fine with it. Everything was fine.
Until the tsum started hogging your attention, that is.
The Diasomnia housewarden is a hair width away from incinerating his plush lookalike.
....Are those storm clouds forming in the distance?....
Maybe you should pay more attention to your boyfriend.... and quick.
Silver
Luckily for everyone Silvers tsum is a calm one.
I fact, both Silver and the tsum were already asleep when you were done changing in your pajamas.
You know Silver was trying his best to stay awake so you just give his temple a quick peck for his attempt.
And one for the tsum as well.
It looks like you won't have cuddles tonight since they're both sleeping.
To your surprise you do wake up in the middle of the night sandwiched between your boyfriend and his plush counterpart.
Nice and comfy~
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pomefioredove · 3 months ago
Note
may I please request Headcanon of the overblot gang + Adeuce when a reader that’s normally very sweet and shy goes absolutely apeshit and TEARS INTO some bully, absolutely roasting the hell out of them please? Thank you :3
of course anon!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ going apeshit!!!!
type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, ace, deuce, leona, azul, jamil, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu
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being the magicless newcomer makes you a favorite target for some of Night Raven College's less kindly students.
your loved ones know this, too, so when a group of brutish first years approach, they're ready to defend you. except...
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Riddle had seen them coming towards you and already had his hand on his magical pen
how stupid of them to pick on you in his presence
a week or two without their heads would serve them well
but before he can even step between you and the ruffians (very gallantly, I might add; he had it all planned out in his head),
you just...
...oh
even he blushes at the profanity you spew
he didn't even get to scold them
...then you turn back to him with that same sweet smile as if nothing had happened
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Ace had actually been the first student to get an earful from you
once at the beginning of the year, and never again
now, he takes great pleasure in watching you verbally eviscerate the other students
it's a... guilty pleasure, we'll say
and Deuce knows not to intervene
he tried... once
after all, he's been in your place before
nothing's better than the feeling of putting some snob in his place
BUT OF COURSE, that's the old Deuce
...he just lets you go on because he knows he can't stop you
...not because he's enjoying it. obviously
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
and here Leona was, thinking you were some helpless little herbivore...
but can you blame him?
you're always so... cute
skipping around Savanaclaw, all happy to be helping out Ruggie and Jack after practice...
you were bound to run into trouble, looking like an easy meal
he almost feels... bad for you...
but before he can step in and tell the freshies to buzz off, you...
damn, you've got a mouth on you
you switch up real quick on them, and they scamper off to go lick their wounds
color him impressed...
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Azul was on his way back to the dorm when he heard you shout
you sounded... upset
and as much as he would like to, he can't just walk by and let you get bullied
damn sympathy...
so, he follows the sound of your voice, ready to intervene... on...
...nothing
a group of embarrassed freshman run past him, scattering in the opposite direction
he steps around the corner
and there you are, perfectly fine, if not a little winded
...of course
and he didn't even get to be your hero... tch
"Always full of surprises, aren't you? Just don't give Floyd any of those new words to use,"
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
it's none of his business... it's none of his business...
until it is his business
Jamil wouldn't have come running to your rescue like some prince
but he is in the middle of a civil conversation with you!
how insulting! honestly!
those freshmen must take him for some kind of witless fool
just this once, he'll teach them not to disrespect him...
of course, he doesn't even get a word in
he's never seen anyone so...
so...
...brutal
your insults are poignant, your tone sharp and dangerous, your usage of puns perfect...
you're like a work of art
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Vil has no problem with putting others in their place
and he has a particular dislike of the brutish, arrogant students at NRC
he can actually sense their unwashed presence in the hall before he sees them
one little snide comment and...
...oh...
oh, my
you verbally tear them to shreds, insulting everything from their shoes to their posture, their cowardice, even their own insults
...goodness
he's going to have to have a talk with you about your language later
but, for now...
...he's enjoying this little performance of yours
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Idia starts the most heated discourse over his faves and biases online, but this is different
this is real life
and the second he can feel a shift in the atmosphere, he's hiding behind you
you can handle it yourself, right? you've done it before!
honestly, he has no clue how you deal with the normies at this school
delusion, probably
he'd die if anyone talked to him the way they talk to...
...NEVER MIND!
you're using words he hasn't even heard in real life
even he is freaked out
you can get real scary when you want to, huh?
...maybe he'll just stick with you for now...
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
poor Malleus
he actually kinda sorta wanted to defend your honor...
he could be your fairytale prince!!! he could!!
it's the gentlemanly thing to do, anyway
and, better yet, he wouldn't even have to say anything! just one glare from him and the perpetrators would run screaming
...the one benefit to his reputation
but, of course,
you are not as innocent and weak as you seem
and he can't help but feel... impressed? with your ability to defend yourself
after this is all over, he'll have to joke that you should join his guard
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reidmarieprentiss · 3 months ago
Text
Always You
Summary: Spencer is in love with his best friend, you already have a boyfriend.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU fem!reader
Category: fluff, angst
Warnings/Includes: being called a bitch (not by spencer), sharing hotel rooms, pining, love confessions, break ups, (un)requited feelings, HAPPY ending
Word count: 4.6k
a/n: if your partner of multiple years does not know your basic likes and dislikes ..............
main masterlist
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For two years, seven months, two weeks, and six days, you have been a dedicated member of the BAU. For two years, five months, two weeks, and four days, Spencer Reid has been hopelessly in love with you. But for two years and four months, and one week, you’ve been in a relationship with Duncan Cody, the Counter-Terrorism agent who everyone not-so-secretly despises. Spencer was just too late to tell you how he felt, and for two years and four months, that regret has gnawed at him, leaving him haunted by what could have been. 
The team was on a case in a small, dusty town in New Mexico, and the accommodations were limited, forcing everyone to double up on rooms. Naturally, you chose to bunk with your best friend, Spencer. But he was unusually tense about the arrangement.
“Hey, JJ, can we switch?” Spencer asked, his voice carrying a hint of nervousness.
JJ looked up from her phone, puzzled. “Huh? Why? I thought you liked rooming with Y/N.”
Spencer swallowed, trying to keep his voice low and steady. Usually, he did love sharing a room with you—it was comfortable, familiar. But the oppressive heat of New Mexico had driven you to wear lighter, more revealing clothes, and Spencer had been struggling with the sight of you all day. The thought of what you might wear to bed, or worse, the possibility that you might wear nothing at all, had his mind spinning and his temperature rising.
“Yeah, no, I do. It’s just… I thought you might want a chance to room with her instead of Hotch,” he stammered, attempting to sound casual.
JJ smiled warmly, shaking her head. “Aww, thanks, Spence, but I don’t mind. Hotch and I usually just talk about the boys until we pass out. It’s actually been pretty nice.”
Spencer forced a tight smile, feeling the knot in his stomach tighten as JJ cheerfully dismissed his suggestion. He could hardly blame her; in fact, he would normally jump at the chance to room with you. But the idea of spending the night so close to you, especially in the sweltering New Mexico heat, had his nerves frayed.
Back in the room, you were already making yourself comfortable, tossing your bag onto the bed with a carefree smile. "It's like a sauna out there," you groaned, fanning yourself with your hand. "I might just sleep in my underwear tonight."
Spencer’s breath caught in his throat, his mind racing at the mental image that followed your innocent comment. He cleared his throat, hoping his voice wouldn’t betray him. "Y-yeah, it's definitely... warm."
You flashed him a grin, completely unaware of the effect you had on him. "At least the AC is working, right?"
"Right," Spencer echoed, swallowing hard. This was going to be a long night.
“Do you mind if I take the first shower? I’ll be quick, I want to get right to bed; I’m beat,” you asked, glancing up from your go-bag as you rummaged through it for your toiletries.
Spencer, trying to keep his cool, nodded quickly. “Ye–yeah, that’s fine.”
You smiled, seemingly unaware of the effect you had on him. “Oh, and which bed do you want?”
He blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Um, whichever is fine.”
“Thank god, I want the one by the window. Thanks, Spence!” You flashed him a grateful grin before grabbing your things and heading off to the bathroom.
As the door clicked shut behind you, Spencer exhaled a breath he’d been holding. It was wrong to fantasize about his best friend, especially in the very not-safe-for-work way that he often did, and especially when you had a serious partner. But he couldn’t help it. You were the kindest, most genuine person he knew, and the fact that you were also the most stunning person, inside and out, only made it that much harder for him to keep his feelings in check.
Minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom, keeping your promise to be quick. However, Spencer’s pulse skyrocketed when he saw you—dressed in nothing but your underwear and a thin tank top that left little to the imagination. He could feel his face flush as he quickly averted his gaze.
“I’m all done, Spence. Shower’s all yours,” you said cheerfully, seemingly oblivious to his inner turmoil.
“Uh, thanks!” Spencer blurted out, nearly tripping over his own feet as he shot up from the bed, making a beeline for the bathroom. He knew there was only one solution to his current predicament—a long, cold shower.
Once both of you were settled in bed with the lights off, you couldn’t resist starting a conversation. Sharing a room with Spencer always reminded you of those childhood sleepovers—giggly, fun, and safe. The quiet darkness seemed to invite whispered secrets, the kind that felt easier to share when you couldn’t see each other’s faces.
“I think Duncan is going to break up with me,” you whispered, your voice just loud enough for Spencer to hear, but soft enough that it felt protected by the shadows.
Spencer’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”
You hesitated for a moment, as if hearing the words out loud made them more real. “I hadn’t said it out loud yet. It sounds crazy now that I have.”
“Why do you think he’s going to break up with you?” Spencer asked, his voice gentle, though he could feel a tightness in his chest.
You sighed deeply, the weight of your thoughts evident. “He’s been pulling away recently. Fewer date nights, less texting during the day… I haven’t spoken to him on the phone once since we got here.” You paused, gathering the courage to continue. “We haven’t had sex in weeks.”
Spencer felt a sharp pang of something unpleasant in his stomach at that comment—jealousy, frustration, regret—he wasn’t sure. “Oh, I’m sorry, Y/N,” he murmured, struggling to keep his voice steady.
“Thanks, Reid,” you replied, your tone quiet and resigned.
For a long moment, silence hung between you, thick and heavy, as if neither of you knew what to say next. Just when you began to drift off, almost convinced that sleep was pulling you under, you heard Spencer’s voice, low and tender, almost as if he was speaking to himself.
“If he lets you go, he is the single biggest imbecile on this planet.”
You blinked in the darkness, half-convinced you were imagining things. Did Spencer really just say that? But before you could ask, the silence returned, leaving you to wonder if it was just a dream after all.
No more confessions were made during the case, and within a few days, the team was back home. But for Spencer, the case hadn’t been the only thing on his mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that you might be single soon. The possibility gnawed at him—would he have a chance? Could he ever muster the courage to tell you how he really felt? Who knows?
What he did know, however, was that you had been using him as a frequent escape from your shared apartment with Duncan. Spencer didn’t mind; in fact, he cherished every moment with you.
“Hey, Spence, do you want to order pizza and watch a movie tonight?” you asked casually as the workday began to wind down.
“Yeah, sounds great,” Spencer replied, his smile brightening his features.
As soon as you walked away, Derek strolled over to Spencer’s desk, a look of mild concern on his face. “Uh, Reid?”
“Yeah?” Spencer responded, glancing up at him.
“I thought you had a date tonight?”
Spencer blinked in confusion. “Huh?”
“With that girl from the post office?”
“Oh.” Spencer’s eyes widened as he realized he had completely forgotten about the date. “I completely forgot.”
Derek raised an eyebrow, surprised. Spencer never forgot anything. “Listen, Reid. I know we all have our feelings about Duncan… but be careful, okay?”
Spencer frowned slightly, unsure what Derek was getting at. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Just—she’s hurting right now, but what happens when they make up? I don’t want to see you getting hurt.”
Spencer’s mind began to race as he processed Derek’s words. “We’re just friends, Derek. I’m just supporting her in her time of need.”
Derek gave him a look that was equal parts sympathetic and skeptical. “I hope you’re right, Pretty Boy.”
As Derek walked away, Spencer found himself caught in a whirlwind of thoughts. Was Derek right? Was he setting himself up for heartache? He didn’t know the answers, but one thing was certain—he was in too deep to turn back now.
You were sitting on Spencer's couch, enjoying a slice of pizza, when his phone started ringing on the coffee table. Since Spencer was in the bathroom, you reached over to grab it, assuming it might be work-related. But the screen flashed a name you didn't recognize: Amanda. Who's Amanda? you wondered, feeling a twinge in your stomach that you quickly tried to dismiss.
When Spencer came back from the bathroom, you waved his phone with a teasing smile, trying to mask the discomfort you felt. "Who's Amanda, Spence?" you asked, your voice light but edged with curiosity.
His face dropped instantly, a look of confusion and then realization washing over him. "What?"
"You got a call from someone named Amanda," you repeated, watching his reaction closely.
Spencer's shoulders sagged as he took the phone from you. "Oh shoot, I forgot to cancel our date tonight. She probably thinks I stood her up."
Your heart sank a little. "Wait, Reid, you had a date tonight? Why didn't you tell me? I could have gone home!"
The mix of surprise and a slight sense of betrayal hung in the air. Spencer looked genuinely apologetic, his eyes wide with concern. "I... I just forgot. With everything going on, it slipped my mind. I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you here if you had other plans."
You forced a smile, shaking your head slightly. "It's okay, I just... didn't realize." Inside, you were conflicted, feeling foolish for how comfortable you’d become in his space, reminding yourself once again that you were just friends, despite the years of ignoring that pit in your stomach.
The entire team had taken note of the significant amount of time you and Spencer had been spending together, and they were all too aware of his long-standing crush on you. Their concern for their friend was palpable, which made the next rooming arrangement all the more telling. When the opportunity arose again for team members to share rooms, JJ immediately claimed you as her roommate. You caught the unmistakable look of relief that Spencer sent her way. What the hell?
That night, as you settled into the room with JJ, the question that had been nagging at you finally spilled out. "Why did Spencer seem relieved not to room with me? Did I do something wrong?"
JJ looked at you with her soft, comforting eyes, shaking her head gently. "Oh, I don’t think so," she reassured you in her calming tone. "Last time he asked me to switch, I think he just wanted a break," she added, her words kind but straightforward.
"Got it." The words felt like a punch to your gut. Your best friend didn’t want to room with you? The thought made you feel nauseous, or maybe it was the urge to cry that was overwhelming you.
"Is everything okay?" JJ noticed the tears brimming in your eyes.
"Yeah," you waved her off with a forced chuckle. "I’m on my period, just overly emotional," you laughed it off, masking the true turmoil you felt.
JJ immediately responded with a warm smile. "Aw, honey, I have pain killers and tampons if you need anything!"
"Thanks, JJ," you muttered, grateful for her kindness but still reeling from the emotional sting of the evening's revelations.
After the case, you found yourself withdrawing from Spencer, the sting of feeling like an imposition too sharp to ignore. Instead, you poured your energy into mending the fraying edges of your relationship with Duncan. Spencer, on the other hand, was left puzzled by your sudden distance, unable to pinpoint the cause of this shift in your dynamic. It wasn’t until he caught a glimpse of a faint hickey peeking out from under your collar that he understood—or thought he did.
“So you fixed things with Duncan?” he asked one day, trying to sound casual as he joined you for coffee in the breakroom.
“Yup. I’ll be out of your hair now, don’t worry,” you replied with a tight smile, and without waiting for his response, you walked out, leaving Spencer bewildered in your wake.
“What was that about?” JJ inquired, having witnessed the interaction from her spot by the vending machine.
“Not sure, she’s been giving me the cold shoulder since the last case,” Spencer murmured, frowning deeply as he stirred his coffee absentmindedly.
“Oh, I might know why,” JJ said, her voice lowering slightly.
“Why?” Spencer looked up, his interest piqued.
“Well, she knows you didn’t want to room with her,” JJ revealed, her expression sympathetic.
“What? You told her?” Spencer’s voice was a mix of surprise and slight irritation.
“She asked, Spence. She was really upset about the whole thing too. You should talk to her,” JJ advised, her tone earnest.
Spencer nodded slowly, the weight of the situation settling on his shoulders. “Yeah, okay. I will,” he agreed, his mind already racing with what he would say to you, hoping to mend the unintentional hurt he had caused.
"Y/N, can we talk?" Spencer caught up with you just as you were about to step into the elevator on a quiet Friday evening. The office had already emptied, leaving you both as the last on the floor.
"Sure, what's up?" you asked, pausing to face him, noting the serious look on his face.
Spencer opened his mouth to explain the hotel room situation, his mind racing for the right words that wouldn't betray his deeper feelings. "Well, you see, it's about the hotel room situation on the last case, and I just—uh, I mean, when we were assigned to room together, I found myself in a bit of a predicament, or rather, a series of considerations that perhaps aren't usual, or rather aren't typically problematic in ordinary circumstances, but given the nature of—"
"Spencer, it's fine. You don't have to room with me on every case. I'm sorry I never asked first," you interjected, misreading his hesitation.
"No, no, I want to room with you," he blurted out, more forcefully than he intended.
"Then why did you ask JJ to switch?" you asked, your confusion evident.
Spencer felt trapped between his desire to comfort you and his fear of making things awkward. "Um...it was just really warm on that case, and I—I didn't want to see you in your underwear," he admitted, his cheeks coloring slightly.
"What? Spencer, you could have just told me. Oh my god! I was walking around in my underwear!" you exclaimed, half-amused and half-mortified.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, looking genuinely apologetic.
"No, Reid, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Is it because I have a boyfriend?" you asked, your tone laced with concern.
Spencer scoffed at the mention of Duncan. "No."
"Then what is it?" you pressed, your gaze steady on his.
Caught with no more excuses, Spencer knew he was cornered. His heart raced with the realization that there was no turning back. "Because I'm in love with you," he confessed, the words tumbling out in a rush.
Spencer Reid's confession echoed in your mind, each word reverberating through your thoughts like a bell that couldn’t be unrung. Spencer Reid is in love with me? The realization sent your thoughts into a tumultuous spiral as you drove home, the familiar streets blurring past. You considered pulling over, needing a moment to process the swirling chaos in your head, but you pushed on, driven by a need to just get home.
When you finally walked through the door of your apartment, the atmosphere struck you immediately. It was dimmer than usual, the air filled with a scent that was distinctly not yours. The smell of soy candles—a scent you distinctly disliked—mingled with the scent of red roses, another thing you didn't care for.
"Duncan?" Your voice was hesitant, almost wary as you set your things by the door and walked deeper into the dimly lit space.
"In here, babe," Duncan called out from the living room.
Following his voice, you found him standing in the center of a meticulously staged scene, surrounded by the roses and candles. The setup was so unlike what you would have wanted, so disconnected from who you were.
"Uhhh, what’s going on here?" you asked, your tone a mix of confusion and a growing sense of disconnect.
Duncan turned to you with a smile that didn’t feel genuine, the ambiance around him feeling more like a set piece than a gesture of genuine affection. "Y/N," he began, his voice taking on a rehearsed quality that made your heart sink even further. "I’ve been thinking a lot about us, and I just really think it’s time we take the next step together. What do you say?"
The words, meant to be romantic, felt hollow and oddly generic, as if they were pulled from a script rather than from his heart. Standing there, with Spencer's heartfelt confession still burning bright in your mind, Duncan’s display felt even more jarring.
The room was dimly lit, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows as Duncan's unexpected question hung in the air. “What?” you asked, your voice shaking.
“Y/N, will you marry me?”
The word slipped out before you could even think, a reflex born of surprise and clarity. “No.” It was firm, decisive, echoing slightly in the quiet room.
Duncan’s face crumbled, his brow furrowing in confusion and hurt. “What?” he echoed again, his voice a blend of disbelief and dismay.
You sighed, feeling the weight of the moment heavy on your shoulders. “Uh, this is just so out of left field. I mean, we have never once talked about marriage.”
Duncan’s response was quick, a desperate attempt to salvage the situation. “But, babe, we live together,” he reasoned, as if cohabitation alone was a precursor to marriage.
“So? You basically ignored me for a whole month,” you countered, your voice steady despite the turmoil swirling inside you.
“Right, but then we fixed things, so we know we work together,” he argued, trying to paint a picture of a resolved partnership.
You couldn’t help but let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Solid logic,” you replied sarcastically, the absurdity of the conversation becoming more apparent.
Duncan's frustration was palpable. “Are you really being sarcastic right now?”
“Yeah, and I wish you were too,” you shot back, wishing the whole scenario was just a bad joke.
Duncan’s next words were sharp, cutting through the tension like a knife. “Fuck you, bitch.”
You froze for a moment, the harshness of his words striking deep. “What did you just call me?” Your voice was calm, almost eerily so, as you fixed your gaze on him.
“A bitch,” he repeated, his voice cold and hard.
“Get out,” you said, your tone final. You stood up, your posture rigid with resolve.
“No, I live here too,” he protested, but there was a waver in his voice now.
“Whose name is on the lease? Get out before I call my team. Do you want Derek and Emily to escort you out?” Your words were a clear threat, backed by the certainty that you would follow through if needed.
Duncan hesitated, his anger giving way to a flicker of fear as he considered your words. Then, in a sudden burst of spite, he hurled the ring box at you. “Keep it, I don’t want your bad juju.”
With that, he stormed out, the door slamming behind him with a force that seemed to shake the apartment. Silence descended, heavy and absolute, as you stood there, the ring box at your feet, a stark reminder of the relationship that had just disintegrated before your eyes.
Spencer Reid had cried more times in his life than he cared to count. He cried when he was bullied as a child, when his father walked out on him and his mother, when he made the heartbreaking decision to place his mom in a care facility. He cried when he was kidnapped, when Emily died—or so he thought. The list of tears was long, but today, he added another entry: the day he told his best friend he was in love with her, only for her to stand there as still as a statue, silent and unmoving, until his heart shattered so completely that he had to leave before she saw him break down.
Now, he lay in bed, the lights off, his eyes puffy and wet, replaying every scenario he wished had happened instead of the painful reality he’d experienced. He sniffled, whimpered, and curled into himself, desperate for a do-over, a second chance to make it right. But life wasn’t that kind.
A knock sounded at his door, pulling him from his misery. He ignored it, too consumed by his sorrow to entertain company. The knocking persisted, three more times, before it finally ceased. Relief was short-lived, however, as his phone began to ring. Without checking the caller ID, Spencer answered, his voice sharp and uncharacteristically harsh. “What?”
“Spence, it’s me. Please open the door.”
He’d never moved so fast in his life. Leaping out of bed in such a hurry, he promptly tripped over his own feet and crashed to the floor with a thud. “Ouch,” he muttered, pushing himself up with a wince. Ignoring the ache, he scrambled to the door, swinging it open with such force that it nearly bounced back. His heart clenched at the sight of you standing there, your expression filled with concern as you took in his tear-streaked face.
“Hi, Spence,” you greeted softly, your voice gentle as if trying not to scare him away.
“Hi,” he croaked out, barely holding himself together.
“Can I come in?” you asked, your tone tentative.
He nodded and stepped aside, gesturing for you to enter. Once inside, you turned to face him, clearly gathering your thoughts.
“So, uh, I’m just going to talk. You can listen or interrupt, whatever you want,” you offered, trying to ease the tension.
Spencer nodded again, still too emotionally raw to form coherent words.
You took a deep breath. “Duncan proposed to me.” The words hung in the air, a bombshell that detonated in Spencer’s chest. His heart broke all over again, shattering into a billion pieces. “I said no.”
His head shot up so fast he thought he might have given himself whiplash. “What?”
“Yeah, it was bad. He had red roses and soy candles set up in the living room.” Spencer’s nose scrunched in distaste; he knew how much you hated those things. “And when he left, he called me a bitch and threw the ring at me.”
Spencer’s fists clenched, a protective anger surging through him. “I’ll kill him.”
“Nah, someone else will. I’m sure of it,” you replied with a small, rueful smile.
His anger softened, replaced by confusion. “So…what are you doing here?”
You looked at him with determination and vulnerability. “What ring would you buy me?”
“Huh?” Spencer blinked, taken aback by the sudden question.
“If you were to propose to me, say tomorrow. What kind of ring would you buy for me?” you asked, your eyes searching his.
“A round cut diamond with a thin silver band,” he answered without hesitation, the words spilling out before he could stop them.
“I’m in love with you too,” you confessed, your voice steady, but your eyes shimmering with emotion.
“Wait, what?” Spencer was incredulous, his mind racing to process what you’d just said. But even as his heart tried to catch up, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“Duncan got me a thick gold ring with a pear-cut lab-grown pink diamond,” you explained, shaking your head at the mismatch.
“Did he know you at all?” Spencer asked, the smile growing despite the shock still coursing through him.
“Apparently not. I’m going to kiss you now,” you declared, stepping closer, leaving Spencer no time to overthink, no time to doubt—just enough time to feel the world tilt as your lips met his.
It was gentle at first, a tentative brush of lips, as if testing the waters. But then something shifted, a dam breaking as all the unspoken feelings, the years of longing and missed chances, came rushing to the surface. Spencer responded in kind, his hands lifting to cradle your face with a tenderness that belied the storm inside him. His thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away a tear that had escaped in the heat of the moment.
He poured everything he couldn’t say into that kiss—all the love, all the fear, all the hope. The kiss deepened, growing in intensity, but it remained sweet, a quiet revelation of the love that had always been there, just beneath the surface.
When you finally pulled back, breathless and slightly trembling, your foreheads rested against each other’s, both of you taking a moment to simply exist in the aftermath of the kiss. Spencer’s eyes fluttered open, meeting yours with wonder and relief.
“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion.
“Me too,” you replied, your voice equally soft. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”
“Better late than never,” he said, a small, genuine smile spreading across his face.
You laughed softly, the sound breaking the last of the tension between you. With your hand still resting on his chest, you could feel the rapid beat of his heart, mirroring your own.
Spencer’s hand slipped from your cheek to your hand, fingers intertwining with yours as if afraid to let go. “So, where do we go from here?” he asked, his voice carrying a note of hopefulness.
“Wherever you want, Spence,” you replied, your smile reassuring. “We’ll figure it out together.”
Spencer’s eyes twinkled with affection and mischief, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “I never want to room with Hotch again.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and full of warmth. “Just me?”
Spencer’s expression softened, his gaze unwavering as he responded with quiet sincerity. “It’s always been you.”
The words hung in the air, filled with all the meaning and truth he had held back for so long. Before you could fully process the weight of his confession, he leaned in again, capturing your lips in another kiss. This time, it was slower, more deliberate, as if savoring every second, every sensation.
The world outside seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of you wrapped up in the warmth of each other’s embrace. This kiss wasn’t just an expression of love—it was a promise, a confirmation of everything that had been unspoken until now.
When you finally parted, both of you breathless but smiling, it was clear that nothing would ever be the same. And that was perfectly okay.
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tag list <333 @spencerreidsreads @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @reggieswriter @loumouse @mentallyunwellsposts @time-himself @chaneladdicted @kathrynlakestone @furrybouquettrash @hearts4spensco @gilwm @khxna @charismatic-writer @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @noelliece @dreamsarebig
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twstowo · 10 months ago
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Bro you can't just make a forehead kissing post and NOT do the rest of the characters 😭🙏 /j
No but actually can you do the first years? I like to imagine all this started with a dare from one of them coughcoughACEcough and now Yuu's just going around sniping all their friends' foreheads with their lips
♡︎ You are right anon, I will redeem myself by doing all the characters.
♡︎ Includes: First Years
[Here]☆[Second years]☆[Third Years]☆[One final forehead kiss]☆[Extras]
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The quest for giving everyone a forehead kiss began when you stumbled upon Ace, deeply engrossed in his thoughts. His hair danced in the gentle breeze, adding an extra layer of charm to his profile. Unable to resist, you tried to slowly approach him without making any sound, trying your best to catch him by surprise and when you came close enough to him you interrupted his daydreaming with a tender forehead kiss.
"What was that for?" he laughed, his response oozing with self-assurance. And to be fair his smug demeanour grated on your nerves, you just gave him a forehead kiss and he reacted like that? No, way! He needed a reality check!
"If you didn't appreciate it, I'll just find Deuce and shower him with forehead kisses instead!" you told him, enjoying the surprise in Ace's widened eyes. Unwilling to back down, he rolled his eyes and stood up.
"Go ahead! Kiss the entire school's forehead! See if I care." Those words struck a chord, prompting you to turn on your heel and leave him to his own devices. You were going to make him regret saying those words.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
⋆⋅☆Deuce:
As soon as you kiss his forehead, he becomes a mess. He touches the spot you just kissed, trying to form any coherent words. Just show him your forehead and tap it, as if telling him to kiss you back, he turns red but kisses you as quickly as he sees you gesture for him to kiss you, as if he always wanted to do that. His hand cups your face, tenderly caressing your cheeks without even thinking.
He daydreams about these moments for the next few weeks.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
⋆⋅☆Jack:
Feeling extremely embarrassed by the unexpected gesture, he avoids eye contact and looks everywhere but your face. After a while, he musters the courage to thank you, and then you both find yourselves in a silent, awkward moment. If you linger without leaving, he eventually gathers more courage and asks if you'd like a forehead kiss in return. If you agree, he gives you a quick kiss, followed by a gentle pat on the head.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
⋆⋅☆Epel:
Finds himself in an internal struggle, Epel wrestles with various thoughts. Does your gesture mean you see him as cute? Is it an affront to his masculinity? Does he need to step up his game? Swiftly, he decides to take action, pulling you by the waist and delivering a surprisingly passionate kiss. Once he's done, he turns as red as you, contemplating the consequences of his impulsive move.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
⋆⋅☆Ortho:
He is so happy with your forehead kiss that he starts to delve into an explanation of the significance behind various types of kisses. He proceeds to suggest the kinds of kisses you should bestow upon his brother. At this point, he's essentially delivering a lecture on the art of kissing. Idia passes behind the two of you and overhears the conversation, for the next week you can’t find him anywhere, he is way too embarrassed to show up in front of you.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
⋆⋅☆Sebek:
Grateful to the Seven for the unforgettable moment, Sebek cherishes your gesture, vowing to remember it for the rest of his life. Then he proceeds to tell you that your actions are obscene and that you shouldn't just kiss him like that out of nowhere. Throughout the week, he can't shake off the memory, and whenever he encounters you, he blushes, scowls, and quickly turns away, unable to contain his embarrassment.
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ruggiezz · 1 year ago
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— MOST TO LEAST LIKELY TO GO TO MCDONALDS WITH YOU AT 3 AM : twisted wonderland
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[synopsis] twisted wonderland characters that would accompany you to mcdonalds at 3 am
[characters] all (romantic) + ortho (platonic)
[disclaimer] this post talks about food a lot and mentions of unhealthy food (in vil's and riddle's part)
[extra] i'm having way too much fun writing character's reactions
── Most likely
★﹕LILIA VANROUGE
Bold of you to assume he was sleeping in the first place. Lilia was playing the equivalent of Overwatch in Twisted Wonderland when you suddenly asked him to go to the nearest McDonald's. He agreed instantly, and now you're both on a date, with you eating fries and Lilia eating a strawberry sundae and a cheeseburger..
★﹕ORTHO SHROUD (platonic)
He agreed instantly. Can robots even feel tired in the first place? Ortho will search on the internet for coupons and promos, but first let him equip his eating gear; he wants to eat too. Everything for his best friend. By the way, he wants to buy something for Idia too.
★﹕ROOK HUNT
Rook got out of bed even before you even mentioned you wanted to go out, he woke up when he felt you were awake. Rook is a light sleeper; he can even feel when you wake up to go to the bathroom. If you really want a meal at McDonald's, who is he to say no? It makes him happy to see you happy, but he will stare while drinking his strawberry shake. Not a "I'm judging you" stare, but a "I like to see you enjoy your meal" stare.
★﹕MALLEUS DRACONIA
He has probably eaten McDonald's at least once because Lilia bought the whole of Diasomnia burgers. Alright, you're both going. Yes, he's still a little confused over why you would crave a really cheap burger at 3 am, but Malleus doesn't even care; the burgers are good and he enjoys indulging in human customs, plus he gets to see you smile. The only bad thing is that the employees got the fright of their lives when they saw the literal prince of Briar Valley enter the restaurant.
★﹕SILVER
Still sleepy, he agreed. There are times when he randomly awakes during the night, so he might as well spend it with you, even if it was at a fast food restaurant at 3 am. He'll order an iced coffee and some fries and listen to you while you speak about whatever comes to mind. You'll both have to make it quick though, he may fall asleep there, and you both need to get back before classes start.
★﹕DEUCE SPADE
He didn't even understand what you were saying; his mind was still foggy from being woken up so late. He said yes, not knowing what he was agreeing with, but a few minutes later he realized what he agreed to. Deuce, not wanting to have gotten your hopes up only for him to say no, got up and accompanied you anyway. He still enjoyed himself though, as long as he is with you, he's happy.
★﹕RUGGIE BUCCHI
He's tired because of how many errands Leona made him do yesterday, but you know what? He will still go. Food is food, and he could never refuse it. Leona lets him grab his credit card anyway, so order whatever you want, Leona will pay, even if he doesn't know that. It's not like he checks his credit card's expenses, so don't worry about it.
★﹕JACK HOWL
When he confessed to you a few months ago, he didn't expect that would mean signing up for you waking him up in the middle of the night, asking him to accompany you to eat fast food outside of campus. Still, he's your boyfriend, and he can't let you go alone, it's dangerous. Even if he doesn't feel like ordering anything, he will sit there with you until you finish your meal, chatting with you in the meantime.
★﹕ACE TRAPPOLA
You're lucky he loves you too much; he would have said no if you were another person. So now Ace is sitting at McDonald's, almost falling asleep while eating some nuggets. That one song they keep replaying will haunt him in his dreams; it got stuck in his head for like, a week. Riddle reprimanded him the next day for falling asleep during history class.
★﹕CATER DIAMOND
Out of everything he could have expected a person to say at 3 am, it certainly wasn't "I want to go to McDonald's". Cater takes a selfie with you inside and uploads it to his Magicam story, the close friends one, so Riddle doesn't realize he wasn't at the dorm. He still has no idea how you came up with this, but ok, it was for the funsies.
★﹕JADE LEECH
You're certainly unpredictable, aren't you? Jade stared at you for a good minute until he just got up, got changed, and went with you. Floyd has done weirder stuff during one of his mood swings; what harm can going to McDonald's do? He doesn't feel like cooking that late anyway. Just don't tell Azul you're both going to the competition, okay?
★﹕EPEL FELMIER
He had you repeat what you said twice to make sure he was hearing you correctly. You want to do what? Let him go back to sleep, please. Okay, whatever, he will accompany you, but make it quick. At least that's what he said before spending the next two hours chatting with you while eating. He sadly got caught by Vil when he came back. Rook snitched.
★﹕SEBEK ZIGVOLT
No, he has to make sure nobody attacks Malleus while he's sleeping. But with some reassurance from Lilia (and him asking Sebek to bring him a burger) and his love for you, he decided to accompany you. He'll ask for the biggest burger since he has a big appetite. He did enjoy it at the end; 10/10 would do it again (but he won't say that out loud).
★﹕KALIM AL-ASIM
He doesn't mind that you woke him up, and he would like to go, but there's a small problem: he isn't allowed to go anywhere without Jamil, which means he would need to wake him up. Jamil wouldn't be happy about that, and Kalim doesn't want to bother him either. So you both just order takeout and give the delivery guy a very generous tip.
★﹕IDIA SHROUD
Idia was awake, but he really doesn't want to go, and he's also farming for an event. Great, now he's craving McDonald's too. If you really want to go, you can have Ortho accompany you, but please bring him a chicken sandwich and some fries. You can use his debit card to pay.
★﹕TREY CLOVER
... What? What did you even dream about to crave McDonalds so late at night? Trey says you both can go on the weekend if you really want to, but go back to sleep, please. There's an important exam tomorrow, and you'll both be in trouble if you suddenly fall asleep in the middle of it.
★﹕FLOYD LEECH
He was not in a good mood after being woken up in the middle of the night. Floyd won't let you go, squeezing you so hard that you can't even move away from the bed. You're not going anywhere the whole night, and if you still want the meal, you can order some in the Mostro Lounge tomorrow.
★﹕LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
It's 3 am, what the heck. Leona says Ruggie can buy you some tomorrow; ask for as much as food as you want, but not at 3 am. He will fall asleep on top of you, so you can't even move, just in case you try to sneak out while he sleeps.
★﹕JAMIL VIPER
No, please, he's tired. He did so much work yesterday: laundry, cooking, folding clothes, tutoring Kalim, paperwork for an upcoming event, and preparing for an exam. He just wants to rest for at least a few hours. Go back to sleep, please. He promises he'll cook you a burger with some fries tomorrow. His cooking is way superior to fast food anyway.
★﹕RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS
"No, that's unhealthy", he says. Somebody buy him a happy meal or something, Riddle has probably never eaten fast food in his life. Either way, there's class tomorrow, and he would never forgive himself if he arrived late to a lesson. So no, you aren't going anywhere.
★﹕AZUL ASHENGROTTO
Why would you want to eat at McDonalds when he has a literal restaurant? Are you trying to buy from the competition? Now Azul is offended at 3 am, so offended that he dragged you to the kitchen to make you a meal resembling the McDonald's one just to prove Mostro Lounge's food is better.
★﹕VIL SCHOENHEIT
Excuse you? Not only did you interrupt his beauty sleep, but you want to go eat McDonald's'? It's 3 am, please go back to sleep or you'll get dark circles. Lack of sleep is bad for your skin, and he won't take the risk, much less to eat unhealthy food.
── Least likely
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stormgardenscurse · 1 year ago
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guys don't like me...
Summary: They’re your best friends! But some of the people (NPCs) crushing on you beg to differ, and are starting to hate seeing the guys flaunt their closeness with you.
Characters: Ace, Epel, Deuce, Cater, Leona
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Ace
He’s someone that does this on purpose. It started with dropping in randomly while you were hanging out with other people. Ace picked up on their jealous stares whenever he stood a bit too close to you or laughed at his jokes.
It’s the way you visibly look more comfortable once he’s arrived, because with Ace there you feel less of a need to uphold politeness or conversation-carrying; his personality draws eyes to him instead. And then the one he’s talking to and looking at is you, but despite how that should make you feel put on the spot, it doesn’t. 
Ace dances between aggravating them on purpose and feigning ignorance. He glances at the others when you’re not looking before sporting a smile to ask if you’d go to his basketball match next week. You sigh and say of course you will, ruffling his hair so as to get rid of his smug grin. If Ace doesn’t win, then dinner’s on him. He agrees, happy to leave the room now that he’s left a mark on the conversation. The other students’ moods have dropped, but you don’t know why.
Ace is also the type to be casually touchy, to the point where strangers ask if you’re together - to which he offhandedly says ‘nope!’ only to share your drink (indirect kiss) and receive odd (and some frustrated) looks in the next minute. 
What, is this not normal? Color him flattered that you’re so lenient with him then! (Big faker, horrible horrible)
Epel
Another one that knows exactly what he’s doing, but what else should Epel do when people are eyeing you when he’s also hoping to confess as well? It’s only natural for him to take advantage of his circumstances - he’s already closer to you than they are, and frankly, while he feels bad at the way they deflate when he enters the room and your eyes immediately catch his, Epel feels a sense of pride from how charmed you are by him. It’s like seeing a garden of flowers lean towards the Sun for its attention, only to find that the sunlight has a favorite.
As jealous people sometimes do, his competitors try to subtly mention that Epel is quite cute for a boy, only for him to drop in (he wasn’t eavesdropping, just passing by) and invite you on a magic-wheel joyride. Your evident familiarity with this side of him only throws the others into confusion, and if they challenge Epel to a race, then… he can only accept it and beat them fair and square, no? 
Slightly reckless but also very well-versed (to your worry) with going at high speeds, Epel wipes the floor with them. As to why you’re not a fan of this, it’s because he suggested you sit behind him to ensure he doesn’t cheat! (He’s doing this on purpose of course, but despite your comments of “you’re trying to kill me” you comply, which only strengthens his resolve as you wrap your arms around him to hold on for dear life.)
Deuce
(the NPCs are your friends from outside of school/your hometown! Implied that you and Deuce live fairly close to one-another)
He’s just a nice guy! A guy you think to rely on when you’re in trouble because there’s no one else as genuine and willing to help, in your book. And also the person you dare to open up about your struggles too, if only because Deuce Spade is no stranger to goals that seem unreachable at the moment - like every time you try to climb higher, the earth loosens and slips from beneath your feet and tests your strength.
If he ever hears the other students telling you that he’s a magnet for trouble, Deuce almost slips into self doubt before seeing the look on your face; the obvious disagreement, the hint of offense taken just at the idea. It makes him happy that you have his back even when he’s not around, but a part of Deuce didn’t want to be a wedge between you and your other friends either.
Their complaints soon die however when Deuce’s goodness manifests in a way no one can deny (not anyone with a conscience, at least). When you texted him and mentioned you forgot some ingredients for hotpot when your friends were over at your house, half an hour later there’s a knock on your door because Deuce has run over from his place with said ingredients, saying he had extra at home (“it’s going to expire soon, just take it, don’t worry”), and in a swell of emotion you almost burst into tears at the gesture (Deuce is the only one ever).
Cater
Who’s that guy that always tags you on Magicam? Cater likes being able to see his presence on your profile - it makes him feel more supported on the vast social media sites and quick-moving trends. Whenever you comment on his posts, a smile reaches his face at the sight of a comment that actually knows the context behind the pictures.
So of course, his jealous competitors are quick to ask you about your relationship with Cater. Were you dating? If not, why was he so clingy to you?
You never thought of Cater as clingy per se. Sure, he likes to throw his arm around your shoulder and give you celebratory hugs when something good happens, and texts you a lot - but that’s just how he shows affection in general, you tell them. He’s just a really good friend, and in your head you think that a part of you also relies on his cheeriness to keep your mood up. He always seems to be keeping the energy fun for the sake of others, that you wonder if he gets bored when you both just do nothing at his dorm, flipping through your feeds and doing meaningless quizzes about your personality type.
And then you recall how Cater always asks you for your results, comparing it to his as he leans his shoulder against yours to get a better look at your screen. 
Does he know he treats you different? Maybe. But that’s for him to cling to as long as he can, before Cater has to fess up to his own emotions.
Leona
A mix of intimidation and annoyance is what your admirers tend to feel, whenever you’re with Leona.
You’re one of the only people that can approach him with a smile and ask the randomest things without fear of being shut down, and Leona simply regards you with a sway of his tail and comments here and there. If you’re feeling talkative, you strike a back and forth with him, engrossed in a conversation that onlookers can’t particularly intercept.
More annoying however, is when Leona knows they’re seething inside and just annoys them more by asking you if you could do something for him, like getting him food from the cafeteria. The goal wasn’t to make you run an errand, but have you ask him to go with you instead and buy it together. And with a purposeful act, Leona ‘reluctantly’ leaves his napping spot to be dragged away by you, hand pulling him lightly by the wrist or end of his sleeve.
Sometimes, you’re seen picking up an extra lunch while in the cafeteria line, thinking that you could save Ruggie some trouble by visiting Leona at the greenhouse yourself. Did you realize how much you were spoiling him? Leona says yes, though this awareness might be buried under several layers of him just being ‘a good senpai’ to hang out with. With time, he’ll make his stance clear though. No amount of daftness can ignore Leona when he wants to tell you something, after all.
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lady-lauren · 2 months ago
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❥ PORTGAS D. ACE X FEM!READER
❥ WORD COUNT: 1.9k
❥ WARNINGS/TAGS: ~surprise~ he's the virgin, experienced reader, face sitting, praise, use of "good boy", creampie, Ace goes pussy drunk but who can blame him
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→ Kinktober Masterlist ←
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“Have you eaten pussy before, pretty boy?” 
The rosy pink that blooms around his freckles tells you no. Your sheets stick to the sheen of sweat across Ace’s skin, his tattoos glowing in the lamplight. His brows are pinched as he fists his hard cock, twitching against his stomach as he tugs from base to leaking tip. 
“Bet you taste so good,” he offers a classic grin, tongue sweeping over his canine as dark eyes stare at the naked juncture between your legs. 
Convincing the charming second division commander to let you…teach him was a more difficult task than you expected. He’s still shielding innocence behind bravado. No one else on the crew knows he’s a virgin—he only told you after one too many at the bar, when your hand started tugging on his belt and his face flushed red beneath the shadow of his hat.
It took weeks of gentle prodding and lustful teasing to fully wind your siren song.
You grip his chin, pressing your mouth to his in a greedy kiss that has him groaning. His lips are soft, plump and hot, so comfortably melding into your movements, slanting and sucking and whimpering. He’s a quick learner, so happy to please.
Quickly, you replace your mouth with a thigh, Ace’s warm lips ghosting across your skin as you settle your hips above his face. The view of him is immaculate, all perfectly carved muscle and his fat cock drooling between thick thighs.
Strong arms lock around your legs, eager to bring your wet cunt to his mouth and lick a testing, teasing hot stripe between your folds. 
“Easy,” you gasp when he presses the tip of his tongue to your swollen clit, “I don’t wanna smother—”
“I’ll die happy,” he pulls your weight farther down, shoving his face between the fat of your thighs. 
“Slow,” you rock your hips over his mouth, lashes fluttering as he listens and gives you several long, languid rolls of his tongue through your folds, “just like that, yeah.”
Ace hums at the praise, cock jumping and begging for attention. 
Big hands bruise your hips and thighs as he grips you for dear life, groaning and pulling like he’s going mad beneath you.
“Use your tongue on my cl—” he acts before you hit the last consonant, making your tummy flutter as he swirls sloppily around your clit. 
“So messy,” Ace mumbles into your pussy, slurping and sucking against your swollen bud. Your thighs shake as you moan, pressing your hands against his plush chest to gain balance.
“You like the taste of my messy pussy, Ace?” your words are breathy, losing their edge as webs of pleasure start to crawl underneath your skin. 
“Fuck yeah, taste better than I dreamed,” his affirmation vibrates to your very core.
Your vision blurs with bliss, yet you can still make out his dripping cock, swollen red and weeping and begging for release against the black, downy hair of his stomach. Sticky pre-cum leaks from his flushed head, pooling into his skin as his cock bobs for you. 
His cock is so tempting, veiny and fat and just the perfect length to make a girl scream. How he’s kept to himself for so long, you’ll never know.
“Oh, you’re so, so good,” you moan and jerk your hips from his ministrations, “put your tongue in me, please.”
You feel the way he grins at your plea, wicked and self-satisfied. His tongue is slow to leave your clit, laving against it with too-hot, too-teasing flat licks. Then he presses his tongue against your tight hole, gathering your slick onto his tongue before pushing into you.
“Oh, oh fuck,” your legs start to tremble as his tongue thrusts up inside of you, “fuck, fuck, fuck that’s so good,” it’s all a messy whisper, just hot air into the dimly lit room.
Ace dutifully fucks you with his tongue, groaning and grunting into your wetness. His cheeks squish against your thighs, freckles smothered with slick. He’s quick and eager, breath hot as he drowns in you.
“Good boy, oh god, yes.” 
Praise makes him shiver, makes his hips buck as his cock searches for you.
But then his tongue is back to soothing over your wet hole, lapping slowly and pulling you away from the churning coil within your belly.
“Please,” his voice is muffled by your cunt, wet lips moving against your folds, “p-please, wanna feel you on my cock. Your pussy’s so soft.” 
Oh, that breaks you. He’s so good, he deserves to know what it feels like to have a woman wrapped around his pretty cock.
“Okay, okay, baby,” he moans at the pet name, kissing your cunt and slipping his tongue over your clit as you pull yourself from his hold. 
The look in his eyes is desperate as you straddle his hips, spit-slick pussy rubbing against his aching cock. 
“You ready?” you ask softly, leaning forward to brush long, dark hair from his face.
His bold front cracks as he grasps your hips, rutting the underside of his dick into your folds.
“Fuck, yes, please—” 
Air is stuck in his throat as you line his tip to your entrance, popping his fat head into your heat. 
“Oh god.” Ace groans and rolls his head back against the pillow.
“Watch, baby, watch how your cock stretches me.”
Obeying, his thick neck tilts up so his eyes can latch onto where you begin to sink down. 
You take it slow, gummy walls sucking him in inch-by-inch. You take note of how pleasure twists his face, makes him hiss and his pupils dilate. 
“So tight, holy fuck, your pussy is so hot.”
The stretch of him makes your eyes roll, feeling so full as you finally seat yourself on his cock. He’s so sensitive, cock throbbing and hips bucking like he’ll explode at any moment. 
“We’ll go slo—”
“No, no,” Ace sits up in a flash, shocking you as his arms lock around your back, trapping you to his chest, “I-I need more, need to feel, ah,” he grunts as the shift in position has his cockhead knocking into your depths, “more.”
He’s crude in the way he thrusts up into you, hard and fast. You moan and it keeps him going, crushing you against him as he buries his face in your neck. 
“Feels so fucking good, oh my god, baby, I—” he loses his words to pleasure, groaning as he starts a sloppy pace. He’s needy, clawing at your skin, kissing your throat.
“Oh Ace, mhm, you like the feel of me?”
“Never felt something so good in my fucking life.”
Desperately he pushes you down onto the bed, gripping the back of your knees as he uses his strength to thrust into your cunt. He’s wild above you, sweat dripping down his forehead and jaw clenched as he chases a new high. 
You mewl at the position, back arching as you reach for his thighs, pulling him into you.
“T-this okay? Am I hurting you?”
“Don’t stop, baby, keep going.”
You moan as he puts more weight on his hands, rolling your hips back.
The purr in his chest makes your lashes flutter, ecstasy rippling down to where he thrusts hard between your legs. Your pussy squishes around him, a thick vein on the underside of his cock pressing hotly to your walls.
You’re already so close to the edge from sitting on his face, clit puffy as his pelvis pushes into you. He slows down a bit, catching his breath and just grinding himself into your heat. 
Ace whines, overwhelmed as he searches for some kind of absolution in your cunt. 
“Does that feel good?” he releases your knees and leans over your body, fisting the hair at the nape of your neck as he presses a messy kiss to your mouth. 
“So good, you feel so good. Go faster, rub my clit, see what it feels like when I cum.”
“Yeah,” he moans as he sits back on his knees, eyes transfixed on the thick ring of cream you’ve left around his base, “gonna make you cum.”
Having a goal kicks him into a new gear, makes his hips move with a purpose and steady quick pace. 
Ace paws at your bouncing tits, thumbs rolling over your nipples and pinching when they harden. His touch is clumsy and a bit delicate and it makes you hot. 
He’s never felt a woman like this before, never lost himself into the chaos of bliss. 
You’re his first and that does something wild to your ego. To have a man like Ace beg for you, to be able to teach him how to fuck you, it all makes your head spin.
A big hand smoothes down your stomach, pausing right at where you spread around him. 
He takes a few moments to keep barreling into you, getting high off the sounds you make. 
“How should I…?”
“Thumb,” you gasp right as he hits a good spot within you, “circle your thumb over—”
You whimper as he listens to your demand, the thick pad of his thumb swirling over your clit in tight, fast circles. 
“Fuck! That’s it, so good, right there, yes!” 
You’re sure the thin walls can’t keep your screams to themselves, but you’re past a point of caring. Your focus is solely on the liquid heat building where Ace’s thumb rubs against you, lightning and shivers racing down your spine. Your legs go limp and your hands twist in the sheets, hips slamming over his cock as you chase the falling edge of pleasure.
“God you’re so fucking hot, wanna feel your pussy cum, baby. Wanna feel you get so fucking tight and milk my dick.”
The mouth on this man. You knew he’d be vocal but his words make you drunk, dizzy. A whiplash of his naive confidence. 
He keeps tight circles on your clit, his other hand reaching down to cup your ass and slide his thumb next to where his cock spears into your folds. He spreads you there, like he’s curious to see what happens, to see how your pussy reacts and feels. The extra tug makes you feel fuller, wetter as he smears your slick.
“Come on,” he’s starting to falter a bit, cock throbbing, “come on, cum for me, please, please cum for me.” 
His pleading throws you off the cliff, makes your cunt clamp down around him and wring every ounce of pleasure from your body. He bullies in one last thrust, creating a fresh, euphoric jolt splinter down your body. 
Your eyes open just in time to watch Ace come undone, head thrown back as he empties his balls into your tight pussy. His muscular chest rises and falls slowly, cheeks so pink he looks sun kissed. He’s pretty all blissed out, yet so powerful above you.
“You okay?”
Your voice is a little hoarse as you grab his attention, his eyes shining down on you with a mixture of curiosity and delight.
“Wanna do that again,” he groans and lays over you, wrapping his arms around your body and keeping his messy cock lodged deep inside of you, “want you to show me all the positions.” 
“All of them? There’s so many—”
“You promised to teach me, baby. And I bet I can make you cum every time.”
You know better than to bet against him.
918 notes · View notes
keikikait · 29 days ago
Text
ᴛʜᴏʀᴏᴜɢʜꜰᴀʀᴇ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)
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pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20s)
word count: 4.7k
summary: rafe helps you after your car breaks down
warnings: dead dove, do not eat. stalker!rafe, smut? (it's just masturbation + some suggestive stuff), rafe is obsessed, please read at your own discretion!, innocent(ish)!reader, again, stalker!rafe, manipulation, rafe gets the reader high on coke (she agrees, but he thinks some weird things), idk anything ab cars but i tried, also i've never done cocaine but i tried to do some research
a note: happy halloween.
please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧
You didn't understand what was wrong with your car.
No matter how many times you took it to an auto shop, how much money you spent, it kept breaking down. Your check engine light would come on at the most random times, even after just getting it fixed the day before.  You were spending all of your money on trying to fix your clunker, a 1993 Lexus LS400 that your father was certain was a waste of time. In the long run, it would be cheaper to buy a new car, but you loved it too much to say goodbye. The AC was surprisingly cold, providing much needed relief for the hot North Carolinian summers. It didn't take much to fill it up, and you had beau coups of trunk space. It was your car and that's all that mattered to you.
You had decided to take your car to a different auto shop, across the thoroughfare onto the mainland. You had thought that a fresh pair of eyes would keep you from coming back the week after because your transmission was shot again. The mechanic was able to fix your transmission in no time, sending you off on your way with a hefty bill. It was raining, a summer thunderstorm on the horizon, and you couldn't wait to get home.
You had just passed over the thoroughfare back onto Kildare when your car started to rumble and shake. You feel like screaming as you pull over, banging your palms on the steering wheel. Your car rumbles and shakes, smoke billowing out of the hood. You reach behind your seat and grab your raincoat, putting it on and putting the hood up. You grab your phone and turn on the flashlight, reaching down to pull back the lever to pop the hood. Afterwards, you step out, pulling your hood tight over your head as you lift the hood and prop it up. You look around, waving the smoke away from your face, but you don't even know what you're looking for.
Gravel crunches behind you as another car approaches, casting a shadow over your hood. You freeze, sliding your phone open to the emergency call. You look over your shoulder as someone climbs out. 
Rafe Cameron, Kook prince of Kildare, in his own navy blue raincoat. He raises his eyebrows, a small smirk on his face. “Having car troubles?”
You tense up a little. You knew Rafe, of course you did, but your interactions with him were few and far in between. You were on the sidelines for most of his problems with JJ, John B, and Pope, not wanting to piss off the most powerful man in the Outer Banks. You finally find your voice, fidgeting with the sleeves of your raincoat. “Yeah. I just got it fucking fixed, too.” You sigh.
His lips twitched, the ghost of a smirk playing at his lips as he looked at you. He had noticed you long before you had even crossed paths, but now, here you were. Standing in the rain, soaked and shivering. He walked over, joining you at your side, and he glanced into your engine, not even pretending to be able to fix it. “You know... this old clunker is gonna cost you more in the long run than if you just got rid of it. Might as well cut your losses while you can, angel.”
Your stomach flips at the nickname, but you ignore it. “It’s my car, Rafe, I can’t just like…abandon her.”
He chuckled, his gaze moving from the hood of your clunker to your face. Your big pretty eyes, your cheeks already beginning to flush from the cold rain. He stepped closer, pushing against the hood so it was angled more, blocking your view of the world around. He leaned against it, crossing his arms, and he stared down at you. “You can, you just don't want to. There's a difference. You like this thing. You're attached.”
You sigh again. “Well duh, Rafe, it’s my only car. I know that concept is hard for you to understand.”
“Is that any way to talk to someone who could help you?” Rafe asks, taking a step back. He glances under the hood again, although he’s just as clueless as you. 
“Help me?” You ask.
He looks over at you again, his expression blank. “I’m a pretty powerful guy, you know. It wouldn’t take much to… oh, I don’t know, maybe find you a newer car. Or,” his lips twitch up into his signature smirk. “Just pay for the repairs.”
“I don’t want to take your money, you know.” You say, crossing your arms.
“Why not?” He asks with a scoff. “It’s just money, angel. I have plenty.”
You sigh. You really don’t want to do this with him. “Look, just…thank you for stopping to check on me. I’m just gonna call a tow truck and wait out the rain.”
He watched as you turned to your phone, a heavy frown settling on his lips. That wasn’t going to do. Rafe suddenly reaches out, grabbing your wrist. “Or—“ he speaks before you’re able to dial, his touch firm but not bruising. “You could just come with me.”
“You don’t have to do that.” You say.
“But I want to,” he says. “It’s raining, you’re cold and alone, and you’re gonna wait on a tow truck who may not show up for hours. Your little car is about to get flooded. Come on, sweetheart.“
You hesitate, reaching over to put the hood of your car back down. “I don’t know, Rafe. I feel bad, you know? Making you drive me all the way to The Cut.”
“It’s nothing for me.” He says, gently tugging on your wrist to guide you toward his car. He looks at you from the side, his gaze taking in your worried expression, and he lets out a soft sigh. “You’re cute when you’re being stubborn, angel. But it’s unnecessary.”
You sigh. His truck did beat walking. “Fine. Lemme get my stuff.”
Rafe lets go of your wrist, watching you as you dig through your front seat, grabbing everything important. He crosses his arms over his chest, pulling the hood forward as his eyes run over your body, stopping on your ass, head tilting as he admires the way your jeans hug your body. He bites the inside of his lip, wondering what you would look like bent over his lap with two red handprints on your ass, slightly bruised from where his rings would catch the skin. 
Did he feel bad about constantly fucking with your car? A little bit. 
But was he happy that he now had you all to himself? Of course he was.
You were Rafe’s obsession, ever since he first met you a year and a half ago. He, at first, tried so hard to forget you, the little Pogue girl that had the sheer audacity to be friends with his least favourite person in the world, Pope, but as the days passed, he couldn’t get you out of his mind. He started out by just thinking about you every so often, occasionally glancing in the direction of The Boneyard when he drove past, hoping he would see you in a bikini. 
Then, he started thinking about you every day, which turned into every night. He would lay on his bed, back against his headboard, and stroke his cock while scrolling through your Instagram feed. Just one look at you would send him close to cumming, and he can’t count how many times he’s cummed in his pants just from seeing you around Kildare. You had a few bikini pics taken from all angles, but his favourite ones were the ones of you smiling at the camera. Rafe has a favourite photo to jerk off to, something that sends him cumming all over his fingers after a few strokes. It’s a photo of you, taken from a high up angle, looking into the camera with your big beautiful eyes, holding a lollipop in your mouth. 
He loves it so much, it’s even his phone’s wallpaper.
Rafe wanted to corrupt you. He wanted to consume you, turn you inside out and fill you with just him. You didn’t need anyone else. You had him, even if you didn’t know it.
You shove your registration and some other important documents from your glove compartment into your bag, shutting and locking the door. You unzip your jacket, sliding the bag between your body and the fabric to try to keep it protected from the rain. You join Rafe back at his truck, climbing into the passenger seat. His car is neat, surprisingly, with only a tube of Aquaphor in one of his cupholders. Hanging from his rearview mirror, along with a car air freshener, is a Polaroid photo of him with his youngest sister Wheezie. There was also photo of you, which was now scurried away in his centre console, buried under a packet of Wet Wipes. He didn’t think you would appreciate that gesture, even though he did, and he didn’t want to scare you off.
Rafe takes the bags from you, carefully placing it on the floor of the backseat, his eyes running over you as you settle into the seat. His hands were shaking slightly as the starts the car and puts it in drive. He couldn’t believe this actually worked. He had been following you all day, tracking your phone as he kept his distance in his car. 
You didn’t even notice when he cloned your phone. Rafe had been tracking your every move for months, reading every single text and listening in on every single conversation. He knew it would freak you out if you found out, but he was just trying to protect you! You didn’t realise it, but you needed him. He was protecting you from the scumbags who were trying to date you. You were so sweet, too sweet, and he didn’t want one of those dirty Pogue bastards to take advantage of you. He had planned on making his move with you anyway, but your car breaking down was a gift from the gods. They were placing you right into his calloused hands.
The rain splatters against the windshield with a low tap tap tap, a steady rhythm that keeps the silence from feeling completely unnerving. The air is warm, the heat turned up high, and Rafe looks at you as he buckles his seat belt. “You better thank me.” His smirk is back, a wicked curl at the corner of his lips.
You roll your eyes. “Thank you, Rafe.”
He chuckles, glancing away from you briefly as he puts one hand on the wheel. “That wasn’t very convincing, angel…” His gaze returns to you, moving over the slope of your nose, your neck, down to where the rain has made your shirt cling to your chest. His mouth is dry, making it hard to swallow, and his knuckles were turning white from how hard he was gripping the wheel.
You look up at him, your head tilted towards him, your eyes big. “Thank you, Rafe.”
His smirk falters, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of your big doe eyes staring up at him. He bites the inside of his lip, staring down at you. He can’t believe that you were really right here, that he had you trapped right in his own little cage. There was something about seeing you look so innocent that made him want to ruin you. His breathing starts to come a bit harder, the urge to grab you and kiss you until you couldn’t breathe with your wrists tied behind your back making his entire body ache. He clears his throat before putting the car into drive, pulling off of the side of the road, heading back towards Kildare.
You notice his heavy breathing and his tight grip on the steering wheel. Your eyebrows furrow. “You okay?”
“Mhm,” he hums, clearing his throat. His grip loosens on the steering wheel, clenching his fingers to alleviate the ache. He forces himself to relax his grip, taking a deep breath. After a moment passes, and the silence is heavy on his shoulders, he glances over at you again. “You ever done drugs, angel?”
You rub your lips together. You could be honest with him, right? “Yeah, once.”
His gaze runs over your face as you speak. God, you’re so fucking innocent, it was intoxicating. “Once?” he echoes, tilting his head slightly. “That’s adorable. What drug was it? Pot? I can’t see you doing anything hard core, angel.”
“Yeah, it was weed,” You say. “JJ got his hands on some, and he let me have a few hits.”
He glances over at you again, his fingers clenching as he tries to not show his jealousy. He hated all of your little Pogue friends, JJ included. He didn’t like the idea of you getting high with JJ -- becoming vulnerable. What if JJ took advantage of you? Rafe clears his throat, looking back at the road. “That’s cute, angel. Was that your first and only time?”
“Yeah,” You say, shifting in the seat. “I just… I don’t know if it’s my thing, you know? I had a pretty bad high. I thought I was dying.”
His lips twitched, trying to keep his temper under control. He had just gotten you into his car, he couldn’t scare you away. Of course that fucker JJ had a hand in your bad experience, he probably gave you too much and didn’t take good care of you. He would never do that to you. He would give you the perfect intro into the wonderful world of drugs. “That’s because he gave you too much, angel. A beginner should never go too far their first time. You need to start small, so you don’t have a bad experience. It’s all about moderation.”
You look over at him. “Well, it’s technically my fault. I took too many hits.”
Rafe laughs softly, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. He glances over at you, his gaze roaming over you slowly, from head to toe, and back to your face. He had already decided that he was going to give you something, just to see you experience it. “What did it feel like? Being high.”
“I liked it,” You say. “I was laughing a lot, until I started feeling like I was dying. I don’t know, the floaty feeling… it was nice, you know?”
He hums, his lips curling into a slight smirk. He could only imagine what you would be like, all loose and relaxed, a giggly high. He wonders what it would be like to kiss you when you were high, how compliant you would be, unable to stop him. His mind starts to wander, thinking about the look in your eyes as he pushes his cock into you, all woozy and out of it. “Would you ever smoke weed again?”
“Yeah, I think so,” You say. “Just wouldn’t do it with JJ in the middle of The Boneyard again.”
“Good,” he says with a firm nod. He glances over at you again, the smirk still playing on his lips. His gaze is dark, his pupils dilated. He was itching for the right opportunity to show you something better, something that could get you addicted, addicted to him. “Would you ever try anything harder?” Rafe pulls to a stop at the red light. Turning left would bring you to the north side of Kildare, where Figure 8 is, while turning right would bring you to the south side, towards The Cut.
You hesitate. “I don’t know, Rafe. I would want to do it in a safe space, you know? Not at like a party or anything.”
He hums, turning right when the light turns green. “A safe space, huh?” He glances over at you, biting his lip. His eyes trace your face, how sweet and innocent you looked, and his mind was suddenly made up. He was going to introduce you to the most euphoric feeling of your life, and he was going to take care of you as you felt it. “What about if we did it? Just you and me.”
You shift in the seat again. There’s a sinking feeling in your gut, like something is telling you to run. “Do you just… have cocaine lying around?”
The light turns green. The car doesn’t move.
His lips twitch again, and his fingers drum at the wheel. “Yeah, angel, I actually do.” He glances over at you, noticing the way you were shifting. He could see the hesitance in your wide eyes, the look of fear. “You don't have to look so scared, sweetheart. I won't let anything bad happen to you. I'm gonna make sure you feel so good. Just trust me.”
You bite your lip, looking out the window. You had heard so much about Rafe from Pope, JJ, and John B about how psychotic, impulsive, and destructive he is, but he was being so gentle with you. You look back at him. “Promise?”
“Promise.” He turns his head, making eye contact. He knew you were scared, and it made his cock throb in his jeans. He was telling you the truth, of course, he would take care of you, and he would make sure that you liked it. He wanted you to come back to him for more and more. “You know, you really don't have to be afraid of me, angel. I'm only bad to people who do things to deserve it. I promise I'll treat you good. I will make you feel good, so long as you trust me, and do what I say. Can you do that?”
Your stomach churns. You shouldn’t do this, and you shouldn’t be in Rafe’s truck, but something about him made you want to stay. “Yeah, I can do that.”
His lips curl into a smirk, that same wicked curl as earlier. He was slowly breaking you down, making you do what he wanted, without you even realising it. He wasn't forcing you to do anything, he was just asking. How could you say no to him, when he asked you nicely? “Good girl.”
Rafe takes the left turn.
You let out a shaky breath. You were really doing this.
You look out the window as he drives through Figure 8, taking in the sights of the looming mansions. You glance back over at him as he drives straight past Tanneyhill. “Are you not there anymore?”
Rafe snorts, shaking his head. “Haven't been there in months, not since my dad died.” He glances over at you, the smirk still playing on his lips. “I'm living somewhere else now. A true bachelor.” He slows down as he turns into the driveway of a large white home that looked like one of many others that surrounded it, although, not quite as big. He pulls to a stop, pulling the keys out of the ignition and tucking them into his pockets. “Come on. Don’t be shy.”
You grab your bag from the floorboards of the backseat before hopping out, quickly rushing through the downpour to the front door. Rafe easily catches up to you, his stride much longer than yours. He leads the way though, pulling his keys back out of his pocket as he shoves the front door open. He holds it open for you, gesturing with a sweep of his arm for you to head inside. “Welcome to my humble home, angel. Make yourself at home.”
You stand in the entryway, not wanting to drip water all over his real hardwood floors. “Do you have clothes I can borrow? I don’t wanna get your furniture wet.”
Rafe smirks, his gaze running over your soaking wet body, his cock throbbing at the thought of how hard your nipples must be. “I think I have something you can wear, but yeah, you really should get out of those wet clothes.” He pulls the front door shut, locking it behind you. “Come on, I’ll show you to my room.” He grabs your hand, leading you through the empty house.
You follow him through the house, taking in the minimal, neutral decor. It honestly looked like no one lived there, the walls of the house were bare, the couches were all black leather, including the recliner in the corner. There was a large white rug in the middle of a living room, covering the floor. The kitchen was to the left of the front door, although it wasn't as barren, with stainless steel appliances and cabinets. The only personal things in the house were a large flat screen TV in the living room, a framed picture of a young Rafe with baby Sarah on the kitchen counter, and a hallway of closed doors that led to the extra rooms. 
His room is just as bare, although it’s a lot messier, boxers and t-shirts litter the floor and are strewn over an armchair set up in front of his TV and PlayStation. His bedside table is covered with empty plastic water bottles, a crumpled bag of chips, and another framed photo, although this one is of him and Wheezie.
“Cute room.” You say.
“Thanks.” He says, his gaze running over you again, his eyes lingering on your chest, imagining what your nipples look like before returning to your face. He walks over to his dresser, pulling out a green T-shirt and grey sweatpants. He tosses them towards you and you catch them. “You can change in the bathroom down the hall and throw your clothes into the dryer. Just set it to quick dry, okay? Otherwise, it’ll take fucking forever.”
You smile softly, holding the clothes in your arms. “Thanks, Rafe.”
“No problem.” He says, sitting down on the edge of his bed and leaning back. He watches you as you slip down the hall, headed towards the bathroom. Rafe waits a few moments, his fingers drumming against his thigh. He had been waiting to get you alone for so long, to make you his, and now, he was so close.
But he had promised to go slow, and even though it was killing him. He didn't want you to run away.
You peel your clothes off, hanging them over the sink as you change. You dry your hair with a towel before pulling Rafe’s T-shirt over your head. It smells like him; a warm, slightly citrusy smell that makes your head spin. You step into the sweatpants and tie them around your hips. They were a big baggy, but you didn’t mind. You put your clothes into the dryer and set it to quick dry before heading back into Rafe’s bedroom. You spin in a circle, looking at him over your shoulder. “How do I look?”
Rafe had been waiting for what seemed like an eternity, trying to resist the urge to go after you. He had changed himself, putting on a pair of sweats and a hoodie. He was almost half hard and as he watches you spin around, the look in your big innocent eyes, he has to dig his fingernails into his palms to prevent himself from jumping on you. He swallows, a dry click echoing in his throat, and he licks his lips, his eyes fixed on you. “You look good.” he murmurs, his gaze travelling over your body and how his T-shirt was loose enough for him to slip a hand under it without any effort. “Are you comfy?”
You nod, fiddling with the hem of the T-shirt as you sit down on the edge of his bed. “Yeah, I’m comfy.”
Rafe’s lips tilt into a smile as he watches you fiddle with your hem. You looked so sweet, his pretty little angel, all alone with him, no one to protect you. “You don’t have to be nervous, sweetheart, I’m not gonna hurt you. You’re in good hands with me, I promise.” He scoots a little closer, looking down at you with his big blue eyes, his lips mere inches from yours. “Do you still want to do it?” God, please say yes.
“Yeah, of course I do,” You say quickly. “Just haven’t done it before, so I’m nervous, you know?”
God, he was going to hell for this. “I know.” He whispers, his gaze roaming over your face, drinking in every beautiful detail. His fingers reach out, gently brushing your jaw. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, angel. I promise.” He glances away for a moment, toward his bedside, toward the bedside table where he had a small bag of coke.
Fuck. This is actually happening.
Your back straightens as you crawl closer to him on the bed, watching as he gets out the bag of coke, along with a small circular mirror.
Rafe looks back at you, his gaze darkening as he sees you come closer, closing the space between you and him. His hand trembles as he opens the bag, using the edge of his credit card to separate the white powder laid out on the mirror. He couldn’t wait to get you addicted to him. He had wanted this for so long, had wanted you for so long, and he couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “You gotta promise not to be scared, angel.” He whispers, glancing over at you as he grabs the rolled up bill.
You let out a shaky breath. “Is there, um…do I have to snort it? Or is there, like, another way? I just don’t know if I can snort it, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.” He smirks softly, his gaze travelling over you as you move even closer to him. He couldn't help but smirk slightly at your question. He was going to love this. He straightens out the lines with his credit card. “I can rub it on your gums if you want.”
You nod. “Yeah. Okay. That works.”
He grins, glancing over at you as he pushes himself back, getting comfortable against the headboard. “Come here, angel.” He grabs the front of your shirt, pulling you closer so that you’re sitting before him, between his legs. He glances at your pretty face, his gaze dark and heavy.
You’re scared. He loves it.
Rafe grabs your chin, fingers squishing into your cheeks. “Open your mouth, angel…” You oblige and he grins. “Good girl, good.” Rafe licks his pointer finger before reaching over and swiping through one of the lines. “Alright angel, last chance, do you wanna do this?”
You nod.
“Good girl.” Rafe hums, grabbing your chin as his wet finger moves from the line of coke, rubbing it along your gums. His gaze flits between yours and his hand before pulling away. You looked so fucking good, letting him take advantage of you like this. “Leave it for a moment, okay? You don't have to suck or lick, just leave it in your mouth.” Your gums tingle, the taste slightly bitter.
Rafe watches you close, leaning back once he takes his hand away. He watches you intently, watching the way your expression changes as the drug takes flight.
He was in love.
The cocaine hits you fast, and you start getting squirmy, your pupils wide and blown out. He watches your face as you react to the drug, watching how your eyes flit around and how your breath comes in deep, slightly shaky. He leans forward, grabbing your arms. “Come here, angel, sit in my lap.” You can’t do anything, letting him move you around before settling you into his lap.
His arms slide around your waist, his hands gripping your hips, keeping you against him, like a precious doll. “Does it make you feel good, angel?” He asks, leaning forward, his nose brushing against the crook of your neck, breathing you in. You smelled sweet, and you were a perfect fit in his arms, so much so that he almost didn’t want to let you go. Almost.
You nod. You felt so good. Everything was heightened so deliciously, and you melted into Rafe’s arms, letting the scent of his cologne travel through you.
“I’m so glad, angel, I wanted to make you happy.” He whispers, leaning up and pressing a kiss to your jaw, his hands holding onto your hips, keeping you flush against him. He loves the way you move, how your body feels against his, how you were his. He wanted to make you want this again, and again, until you couldn’t think about anything but him, until you couldn’t go without it. Rafe kisses up your neck, hands sliding under the front of his shirt. Your eyes are fluttering and your whole body shakes as your ears start to ring. You squirm, and he grins, moving his head up. He gently bites your earlobe before whispering into your ear. 
“You did well saying yes to me.”
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧
part two is here!
★taglist: @ietss, @momoewn, @blairsblg, @teenwolfbitches28, @dasia21, @drewsphswife, @gilwm, @watchmerora (italics means i couldn’t tag you!)
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antebunny · 3 months ago
Text
go away
After Bruce Wayne dies, it only takes Tim about three weeks to show up on Dick Grayson’s doorstep with a 3-ring binder full of evidence. He runs a finger along the top metal ring of the binder over and over as he waits for a response to the doorbell. All at once he feels thirteen years old again, clutching months of painstakingly collected notes written up neatly and sorted into sections. Dick never read any of it, yet Tim did it all again. Had his photos developed for ease of viewing access, included sources for all of his claims, stuck to his main points for clarity’s sake but has pages and pages of extra information in the back of the binder for when–if–Dick decides to give his idea a thorough look. 
But Tim is seventeen years old now, old enough to know where he went wrong the first time. Yesterday he spent hours coming up with argument after argument, approach after approach, to get through to Dick. Mr. Grayson, I’m so sorry for your loss. He’s probably tired of hearing that. Mr. Grayson, I have something I think you’ll want to see. Too quick to the point. If he doesn’t recognize Tim, maybe he’ll try Mr. Grayson, I know about your night life and I want to help. If he does, then maybe Mr. Grayson, I want to say I’m sorry about last time, but this isn’t like last time, I swear–
The door opens. Tim knows that it’s Dick by the smell. Sweat, unwashed clothes, and misery. How like last time. Dick looks like the epitome of grief, which is to say, not like himself. Dick Grayson is a creature of happiness by nature, of high-flying freedom, of beloved family and friends, a picture-perfect cover boy, always adored, always with a beautiful redhead, Batgirl or Starfire or Arsenal, yes Tim knows his type, always kind, always charming, always happy to be there. But Tim only ever seems to know him in these liminal states of horrible tragedy. 
Worst of all, Tim can’t quite tell if Dick recognizes him. 
“Mr. Grayson,” he begins, heart pounding so loudly he cannot hear himself speak, “I don’t think Mr. Wayne is dead.”
For a moment longer than Tim’s entire lifespan, Dick just stares at him. Blue eyes hazy and unfocused. One hand on the doorframe, one hand dragging through the stubble growing on his half-shaved jaw. He’s wearing an AC/DC shirt. Given Dick’s fashion tastes (bright colors) and Bruce Wayne’s music tastes, neither of which Tim should know, he is 98% certain that the AC/DC shirt used to belong to Bruce Wayne. 
When Dick finally speaks, his voice sounds like the death of all joy. 
“How many family members do I have to lose before you let me grieve in peace?”
Tim’s pounding heartbeat becomes a deafening white noise as Dick’s question pangs around his chest. His eyes sting so fiercly that Tim knows it is as visible as Dick’s misery. Nevertheless, he persists, if only for Bruce Wayne. No one else will save him if not for Tim. So even though his hero thinks Tim is a creepy little stalker with the unbelievable audacity to swagger into Dick’s life and tell him how to fix it, well. He’s not wrong, is he? What does it matter if Tim once upon a time dreamed of more? Saving Bruce Wayne is far more important than Tim’s nonexistent chances of becoming friends with Nightwing. 
“Jason came back.” Tim’s chin, lifted stubbornly, trembles. 
Dick’s face clouds over with a rage so terrible that Tim sincerely believes he’s about to get punched by Nightwing. Which wouldn’t be so bad. Tim deserves it, doesn’t he? Intruding on a stranger’s grief like this is probably a punchable offense. He’ll bear it all if only Dick listens, but it looks like he managed to blow it in the span of two sentences. 
In the end, though Dick’s hands curl into fists and his shoulders shake like traintracks, he turns his head at the last second and rests his forehead on the doorframe. Tears streak down his perfect jawline. Watching Dick Grayson cry is like watching Atlantis sink. It’s like watching the Mona Lisa go up in flames. Tim knows stuff like this is why Dick treats him like a celebrity-obsessed stalker living in a weird fantasy world where he’s a part of the Wayne family. He knows it’s why Dick hates him. Tim still can’t help that it’s captivating to watch.
“Go away,” Dick begs.
Tim has never felt more like the scum of the earth, yet still he’d persist if he thought there was a chance of getting Nightwing to listen to him. But there isn’t. So Tim, as lonely, rejected, unworthy and fucking correct as he is, sees himself out of the apartment building.
Two weeks later, he catches a flight to Lahore.
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plumipal · 6 months ago
Note
I just had a thought- how would Grim and the ramshackle ghosts feel about all the stuff happening to us?
Especially if the yandere(s) are coming over to our dorm too! Would they, depending on the severity of the yandere and their specific actions, range from supporting it cuz yknow reader gets to be happy with someone who treats them well and loves them to concerned because sweetie please get yourself outta there 😭
I can imagine Grim is NOT alright with it and for a multitude of reasons, they are taking away your time with HIM, and once he pays more attention to the bigger picture? Yeah messed up things be occasionally happening that could very well hurt you!! He does not like that!!!
im just imagining Grim being visibly not alright and reader will not have it either when it comes to him, they are a PACKAGE deal and that is that no matter which yandere comes their way 🗣️
we have many people more alright with Grim being reader’s number one priority, or yknow silently(?) wishing it was them, poor Grim and Reader man encountering yandere after yandere 😭
Grim would give us a look if we expressed any sort of romantic interest in any yandere I think lol
‘Pologies if it was too long or ranty, though I am curious who you think would be the most and least alright with this? I imagine Leona and Ace (legally required to bring up Ace he’s my all time fav next to Grim) would NOT like it lmao
.. first off, this is the longest ask ive ever gotten, I gotta just say oml thank you so much????? You, wrote all of this, fpr me?? 🥹🥹🥹💖💖💖 this literally made my week thank you so much bestie 🥹😭 second off, this inspired me to rant too, I hope you enjoy!- (not proofread btw)
So im mainly gonna focus on grim, no offence to ramshackle ghost fans, I just really like the silly little fire-cat/rat/weasel/creature. He was literally our first friend, our first companion (I bet Ace and grim bicker on who was your first).
And oh boy, guy is NOT HAPPY when he sees all these dumbasses vying for your attention and either trying to butter him up with tuna (which will not work on the mighty grim!) or ugnore him completely! Like you stated you and him are a package deal! Get the prefect and get their silly hungry companion!!
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Now, grim surely uses his position as your closest companion as a safety net, they can't kill off the closest you have to family in this world! Guess they gotta live with him if they wanna have a life with you.
Ace hates that grim was your friend before him, feeling annoyed whenever he bullied (Juice) Deuce about being friends with you before him only for grim to butt in. Ace isn't too annoyed with grim though, and grim thinks that Ace is one of the better choises of the roster you have, they're both friends after all.
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Of course most students in the cast don't liek "sharing" you with grim, especially the more territorial ones. Leona is probably the worst, I mean come on they're both feline looking creatures. With scent being a heavy thing for felines (yes even beastmen dont come at me) Leona is not happy to have his scent on you be muddied by the little rodent (the greatest mage of all, grim). Probably the worst choise since they're just gonna bicker to the end of the world..
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Floyd doesn't like this either! Not fair that he has to share!! And with grim no less.. Floyd results in biting you instead of scenting, his chompers being good for nibbling on you. He also has the advantage that grim is sorta afraid of him (honestly who wouldn't be? Especially yan Floyd...).
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Kalim tries to brime grim, with anything he could ever think off! Unlimited tuna for grim, and the best there is as well!! Nything grim could ever want on a silver platter, only if grim let's kalim marry you! That alone doesn't sound too bad, but that unsettling horrifying servant that follows Kalim around. He knows what jamil can do, and he sure does NOT want you with that dude!- guy is manipulative and creepy (he would definelty seperate you and grim!-)
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Malleus... Malleus scares grim, guys is honestly horrifying. Threatening to curse him into an eternal slumber so he can whisk you away from him, he doesn't want that! You would also get sad id malleus did that, so luckily the possessive dragon had to share (for now...)
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Whoever you choose, grim would probably disapprove, guy thinks of you as family (he will never admit that tho). He cares about you, and he is not okay with the invasion of privacy from these teenagers! >:(
I know you didn't ask fpr any drawing or such, but I couldn't help myself sorry 🤭 hope you like my ramblings back at you!
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 months ago
Text
Until I found you
The reader's nickname is princess. There are slightly spicy scenes so mdni. Fuck boy Eddie who quickly turns into simp for you Eddie, fluff and a bit of angst. 18+
❤️
The First time that Eddie met you was when he was running from a very irate ex fling. He had literally just ended things and she had taken it badly; even though he told Cassia that he wasn't a relationship guy, she still thought that she could change him.
So intent on getting away from the crying and yelling he fell arse over tit and landed in a heap at your feet.
Normally Eddie would put on the charm right about now but his mind had gone blank at your pretty smile and the amusement in your eyes.
"Uh hey, you wouldn't mind hiding me from my very angry ex would you?" you snort at his request and proceed to help him up.
Now he would like to say that he charmed the pants off you that night but he didn't. In fact it was weeks before that would happen.
Eddie didn't do love. He was too cynical for that shit and he had seen enough break ups and fighting from his own parents and couples around him in his early years that it stuck with him.
Truthfully when he was younger there was still an idealised part of him that dreamed of finding someone who would love him but after various disappointments it was easy to close off that part of him.
He was thirty nine and had yet to have a serious relationship, preferred to indulge in flings with like minded people; there were still a few women who liked to think they could change his mind despite his warnings but they were unsuccessful.
Some people liked nothing better than a challenge and Eddie was a challenge, but he was also stubborn and refused to change his mind about things.
Even when he met you he was still determined that you would be like the others, that this would be a short fling and then be over within weeks... well if you ever agreed to go on a date with himm
However you seemed to have other ideas...
When you finally did agree to a date, Eddie made sure you knew the rules. No way was he having another angry woman chasing after him. You seemed pretty nonchalant about the whole thing until towards the end when you surprised him by gently taking his hand.
"Doesn't it get lonely?" you ask him curious and a little sad. He swallows and shakes his head. "No" he murmurs but that isn't quite the truth, he does get lonely but chases it away with flings, weed and D&D.
You didn't look like you believed him but you dropped it and gave him a little smirk. "So what's this amazing date you're taking me on Munson?"
❤️
Weeks pass and Eddie doesn't seem to realise that this has lasted longer than his usual flings, the two of you are having fun so he doesn't see why you would have to stop now.
Eddie groans as he thrusts into you, he can never get over how incredible it feels being inside of you and quickens the pace, loves the way you moan his name and clench around him.
A powerful, intense orgasm rocks the both of you and Eddie moans into your neck, softly kissing over it and your breasts. You're still shaking from the intensity of the orgasm, eyes closed and a blissful smile on your face.
"Hey beautiful" he caresses your cheek for a second, you cuddle back in his arms and look so content and happy, warmness spreads over his chest as he watches you. Fuck.
This was bad, this was very bad. What the fuck was going on with him? He was moving into dangerous territory here, things he avoided like the plague.
While you were nodding off he quickly dressed and tried to ignore his racing thoughts. So he liked spending time with you? So what! that didn't mean anything.
The content feelings that had been popping up out of nowhere meant nothing either, the warm feeling when he looked at you? Maybe he was getting sick or the AC was too high. That must be it..
This was fine. Maybe if he kept telling himself this then he would believe it? He feels a tug on his hand as he's trying to find his shirt and you're wide awake and gazing at him with big puppy eyes.
"Stay" you murmur sleepily and pout, it's so adorable that Eddie can't help but join you back in the bed.
This was fine. It was just one night it didn't mean anything. Nothing at all.
...
Steve is the first person to notice what's happening, he presses a beer into Eddie's hands before everyone arrives for the campaign and the two settle to chat.
"So you and princess? It's lasting a while huh?" Steve waggles his eyebrows at Eddie who almost chokes on the beer he's drinking, annoyed at Steve's teasing tone he shrugs and answers.
"I could end things whenever I want Steve" Eddie waves off Steve's comment, he really doesn't want to mention to Steve how sick he feels at the thought of never seeing you again.
"Yeah, you could but you don't want to Munson and you need to admit that to yourself" Steve says wisely and is saved from answering as some of Hellfire arrive.
No he doesn't.
Steve doesn't stop there and pins Eddie with his gaze. "Dude she's a catch and if you lose her because you're so stubborn, you know she will get snapped up like that" he snaps his fingers and Eddie feels like he's been punched in the gut.
Steve is right. He knows he's right and Eddie knows he's right and those thoughts stay with him.
He tries to lose himself in the campaign, and it works for a while, he's completely in DM mode and smiling at his enraptured audience. Dustin and mini Dustin are hanging on his every word as he finishes this part of the campaign on a cliffhanger.
"Dude, seriously!" Mike whines and Eddie smirks and pats Mike on the shoulder, "Wheeler good things come to those who wait. Now scram!" he orders him.
He's already annoyed that he was so distracted at times during the campaign in the first place, it wasn't often but it was enough to unnerve him. Since when did he get distracted while he was in the zone?
It was you that was distracting him and Steve stupid musings but speaking of you distracting him...
You walk into Steve's house smiling shyly at Steve and your eyes light up the minute that you find Eddie. His heart annoyingly speeds up which makes him grumble under his breath.
The minute you're in his arms his grumbling ceases and he smiles. "Hey whatcha doing here princess?" he's aware of the others watching him and gawking, he throws them a dark look and they scatter off in different directions.
"I thought I'd surprise you, is that alright?" you ask nervously and he's quick to assure you it's fine. The two of you liked hanging out together so he didn't see the problem and he never wanted you to feel nervous asking him these things.
"Sure princess, you want me to teach you how to play? I have a mini set back home" he doesn't expect you'll say yes but you surprise him by nodding happily.
"I'd like that Eddie"
❤️
Eddie smiles as you fall asleep cuddled into his chest, the two of you have barely left the bed since he picked you up from work and you're finally tuckered out.
Usually right about now he would slip out while you slept. Except he finds out that he doesn't want to, he wants to stay and the thought doesn't make him want to run for the hills.
You mumble in your sleep then whimper as your hand traces the empty sheets, he moves closer to you and instinctively you seek him out and sigh content when you're cuddled up on his chest.
It's cute as fuck and he melts. Melts, he can't cope with how sweet that was and he feels that warmness flood over him again as he strokes your hair.
The realisation hits him then. He could happily do this for the rest of his life.
Well shit. That was new and terrifying and he needs to leave now and not look back.
For a second it feels like he can't breath and he's gently moving you to your side of the bed and is halfway through scrambling for his boxers when it hits him that he doesn't want to leave.
His breathing calms and the racing beat of his heart slows down to a normal rhythm.
Once again the thought of not seeing you again makes him feel like his chest had caved in and he slumps back on the bed and immediately gathers you back in his arms.
With a gentle kiss to your hair and the feeling of your body flush against his, he begins to relax and he admits to himself that the feeling of you in his arms is something he will never tire of.
He wants to do this for the rest of his life.
❤️
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