#it's about not knowing how to love and feeling like you're a bad person
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"Let's Have a Talk, First"- Stereotypes, pt 1
Come sit down. You and I, before we get into any of the things I'm sure you're impatient to know: we need to have a come to Jesus talk, first.
There are some things that I've been asked and seen that strengthens my belief that we need to have a reframing of the conversation on stereotypes in media away from something as simple as "how do I find the checklist of stereotypes to avoid". Because race- and therefore racial stereotypes- is a complex construct! Stands to reason then, that seeing, understanding, and avoiding it won't be that simple! I'm going to give you a couple pointers to (hopefully) help you rethink your approach to this topic, and therefore how to apply it when you're writing Black characters- and even when thinking about Black people!
Point #1: DEVELOP THE CHARACTER!! WRITE!!
Excuse my crude language, but let me be blunt: Black people- and therefore Black characters- will get angry at things, and occasionally make bad choices in the heat of the moment. Some of us like to fuck real nasty, some might be dominant in the bedroom, they may even be incredibly experienced! Others of us succumb to circumstance and make poor decisions that lead to crime.
None of those things inherently makes any of us angry Black women and threatening Black men, Jezebels and BBC Mandingos, and gangsters and thugs!
Black people are PEOPLE! Write us as such!
If all Black characters ever did was go outside, say "hi neighbor!" and walk back in the house, we'd be as boring as racist fans often accuse.
I say this because I feel I've seen advice that I feel makes people think writing a Black character that… Emotes negatively, or gets hurt by life and circumstance, or really enjoys hard sex, or really any scenario where they might "look bad" is the issue. I can tell many people think "well if I write that, then it's a stereotype" and to avoid the difficulty, they'll probably end up writing a flat Black character or not writing them at all. Or- and I've seen this too- they'll overcompensate in the other direction, which reveals that they 'wrote a different sort of Black person!' and it comes off just as awkwardly because it means you think that the Black people that do these things are 'bad'. And I hate that, because we're capable of depth, nuance, good, evil, adventure, world domination, all of it!
My point is, if you write your character like the human being they are, while taking care to recognize that you as the writer are not buying into stereotypes with your OWN messaging, you're fine. We have emotions, we have motivations and goals, we make decisions, and we make mistakes, just like anybody else. Write that! Develop your character!
POINT #2: YOU CAN'T CONTROL THE READERS!!
Okay. You can write the GREATEST Black character ever, full of depth, love, nuance, emotional range, all those things…. And people are still going to be racist about them. Sorry. There is absolutely nothing you can do to control a reader coming from that place of bias you sought to avoid. If it's not there, TRUST AND BELIEVE, it'll be projected onto them.
That passionate young Black woman who told the MC to get her head out of her ass? Yeah she's an angry Black bitch now, and bully to the sweet white MC. Maybe a lesbian mommy figure if they like her enough to "redeem" her. That Black gay male lead that treats his partner like he worships the ground he walks on? Yeah he's an abusive thug that needs to die now because he disagreed One Time with his white partner. That Black trans woman who happened to be competing against the white MC, in a story where the white MC makes comparable choices? Ohhhh they're gonna be VILE about that poor woman.
It really hurts- most especially as a Black fan and writer- knowing that you have something amazing to offer (as a person and creative) and people are gonna spit on that and call it "preference". That they can project themselves onto white characters no matter what, but if you project your experiences onto black characters, it's "pandering", "self insert", "woke", "annoying", "boring", and other foul things we've all gotten comments of.
But expect that it's gonna happen when you write a Black character, again, especially if you're a Black writer. If you're not Black, it won't hurt as personally, but it will probably come as a shock when you put so much effort in to create a lovely character and people are just ass about them. Unfortunately, that is the climate of fandom we currently exist in.
My favorite example is of Louis De Pointe Du Lac from AMC's Interview With The Vampire. Louis is actually one of the best depictions of the existential horror that is being Black in a racist White world I have ever seen written by mostly nonblack people. It was timeless; I related to every single source of racist pain he experienced.
People were HORRIFIC about Louis.
It didn't matter that he was well written and what he symbolized; many white viewers did NOT LIKE this man. There's a level of empathy and understanding that Black characters in particular don't receive in comparison to white counterparts, and that's due to many of those stereotypes and systemic biases I'm going to talk about.
My point is, recognize that while yes, you as the author have a duty to write a character thoughtfully as you can, it's not going to stop the response of the ignorant. Writing seeking to get everyone to understand what you were trying to do… Sisyphean effort. It's better to focus on knowing that YOU wrote something good, that YOU did not write the stereotype that those people are determined to see.
POINT #3: WHY is something a stereotype?
While there are lists of stereotypes against Black people in media and life that can be found, I would appreciate if people stopped approaching it as just a list of things you can check off to avoid. You can know what the stereotypes are, sure, but if you don't understand WHY they're a problem and how they play into perception of us, you'll either end up writing a flat character trying to avoid that list, or you're going to write other things related to that stereotype because "oh its not item #1"... and it'll still be racist.
For example: if you wrote a "sassy Black woman" that does a z formation neck rotation just because a store manager asked her something… that's probably stereotype. If you thought of a character that needed to be "loudmouthed", "sassy", and "strong" and a dark-skinned black woman was automatically what fit the profile in your mind, ding ding ding! THAT'S where you need to catch your racist biases.
But a dark-skinned Black woman character cursing out a store manager because she's had a really bad, stressful day and their attitude towards her pushed her over the edge may be in the wrong, but she's not an "angry Black woman". She's a Black woman that's angry! And if you wrote the day she had to be as bad as would drive anyone to overstimulation and anxiety, the blow up will make sense! The development and writing behind her led to this logical point (which connects to point #1!)
I'm not going to provide a truly exhaustive list of Black stereotypes in media because that would ACTUALLY be worth a college credited class and I do this for free lmao. But I am going to provide some classic examples that can get y'all started on your own research.
POINT #4: WATCH BLACK NARRATIVES!
As always, I'm gonna push supporting Black creators, because that's the best way to see the range of what you'd like. You want to see Black villains? We got those! Black heroes? Black antiheroes? Assholes, lovers, comedians, depressed, criminals, kings, and more? They exist! You can get inspired by watching those movies and reading those books, see how WE depict us!
I've seen mixed reviews on it, BUT- I personally really enjoyed Swarm, because it was one of the first times I'd ever seen that "unhinged obsessed murderous Black fan girl" concept. Tumblr usually loves that shit lmao. Even the "bites you bites you bites you [thing I love]" thing was there. And she liked girls, too. Just saying. I thought it was a fun idea that I'd love to see more of. Y'all gotta give us a chance to be in these roles, to tell these tales. We can do it too, and you'd enjoy it if you tried to understand it!
POINT#5: You are NOT Black!
This is obvious lmao, but if you're not Black, there's no need to pretend. There's no need to think "oh well I have to get a 100% perfect depiction of the Black person's mind". That's… That's gonna look cringe, at its best. You don't have to do that in order to avoid stereotypes. You're not going to be able to catch every nuance because it's not your lived experience, nor is it the societally enforced culture. Just… Do what you can, and if you feel like it's coming off hokey… Maybe consider if you want to continue this way lol. If you know of any Black beta readers or sensitivity reviewers, that'd be a good time to check in!
For example, if your Black character is talking about "what's good my homie" and there's absolutely no reason for him to be speaking that way other than to indicate that he's Black… 😬 I can't stop you but… Are you sure?
An egregious example of a TERRIBLE way to write a Black character is the "What If: Miles Morales/Thor" comic. I want to emphasize the lack of good Black character design involved in some of these PROFESSIONAL art spaces, because that MARVEL comic PASSED QA!! That comic went past NUMEROUS sets of eyes and was APPROVED!! IT GOT RELEASED!! NO ONE STOPPED IT!!
I'm sorry, it was just so racist-ly bad that it was hilarious. Like you couldn't make that shit up.
Anyway, unfortunately that's how some of y'all sound trying to write AAVE. I promise that we speak the Queen's English too lmao. If you're worried you won't get it right, just use the standard form of English. It's fine! Personally, I'd much rather you do that than try to 'decode AAVE' if you don't know how to use it.
My point is, if you're actively "forcing" yourself to "think Black"… maybe you need to stand down and reconsider your approach lmao. This is why understanding the stereotypes and social environment behind them will help you write better, because you can incorporate that Blackness- without having to verbally "emphasize how Black this is"- into their character, motivations, and actions.
Conclusion
We need to reconsider how we approach the concepts of stereotypes when writing our Black characters. The goal is not to cross off a checklist of things to avoid per se, but to understand WHY we have to develop our Black characters well enough to avoid incorporating them into our writing. Give your Black characters substance- we're human beings! We have motivations and fears and desires! We're not perfect, but we're not inherently flawed because of our race. That's what makes the difference!
And as always, and really in particular for this topic, it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!
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i would absolutely love a Hotch and stripper reader, him taking care of her after some kind of incident at her club or something? maybe a bit of angry hotch at the beginning, some angst? 💗💗💗
Your throat burns by the time his car pulls up.
You take the butt of the cigarette from between your lips and ash it next to the first. Your hand is sore between the index finger and thumb from a bad stretch, aching as you press into your pocket for your stolen box of Marlboro golds. You’ll apologise for taking them some other time.
You press the third between your lips and flick the lighter. You’re not good at lighting them, worse at the first inhale, your throat an agony that rivals the sting of your battered cheek.
Shoes on the sidewalk, a scratch of loose gravel. Your eyes well with another line of tears that you work hard to hold in, taking another quick, cruel drag. They don’t make cigarettes long enough, in your opinion. They don’t last.
He stops in front of you. Quiet, Agent Hotchner looks down at you where you’re sitting on the low wall, expression as steely as ever. You meet his eyes, worried your wobbly lip is giving you away, not sure calling him was the right thing to do after all.
When he raises his hand to the cigarette you let him take it. His fingers wrap carefully around the butt of it, the side of his thumb brushing your lips.
He flicks it to the ground and steps on it flat.
You don’t say hello. It’s obvious you’ll cry, he can tell too, and he doesn’t make you. You wince as he raises his hand again, your eyes squinting closed, but he isn’t going to hurt you. His palm is warm where it cups your cheek, turning your face to the light emanating off of the club neons.
“Do you know his name?” he asks.
“No.”
He raises your chin higher still. His frown turns to a glare, the brunt of which is directed elsewhere but intimidating all the same. His touching is gentle at least.
“What happened?”
“I told him no.”
His jaw ticks. “Can I take you home?”
You sniffle, turning your face out of his hand and down to your lap. He’s kissed you, he’s done more than that, but he knows you’d felt like you had no choice and so he’s giving it to you now. It’s exactly why you’d called him. It’s the man he is, and he should never have ended up looking after you.
“Sorry I called you,” you say, hiding your face in one hand. Pain flickers behind your eyes as tears mount for the tenth time tonight.
Hotch gives a sigh, sitting on the wall beside you. He wraps his arm behind your back and with a familiarity you need desperately. You press yourself into his side, sew your arm hesitantly over his stomach, the starch of a pressed shirt crisp on your clammy skin.
“It’s cold out here,” he murmurs, bringing both hands to your arm, one to hold you tight, the other to rub your cool skin.
“I think I want to quit.”
He nods into the side of your head. “I think you should,” he says, “if that’s what you want… honey, you can do whatever you want.”
“I don’t think I can. I’m trapped and it’s my fault.”
“It’s not your fault.” He encourages your head under his, your face to his neck. When he talks, it’s a quiet, lulling promise. “You’re not trapped. I’ll do anything you need me to do. If you want an apartment, I’ll get it for you. If you want to shut this place down, I will. The last thing either of us want is for you to work here when you don’t want to.”
“You don’t have to say work here like I’m not a glorified prostitute,” you say hotly, anger turned in rather than out.
“You don’t really think that.”
Being a sex worker is complicated. You don’t know how you feel about it, and you can’t ever understand why Hotch would bother with you. You’d worried at first that your vulnerability is what attracted him, like a kid with a broken bird, but he’s proved a hundred times that your job is pretty much separate from why he likes you. He thinks you're pretty. He loves your voice. You make each other laugh, and somehow inexplicably he’s the first person you call when things go wrong.
“Quit your job,” he says. “Even if it’s just to dance somewhere else.”
“You can say strip.”
He nods. “You shouldn’t have to worry whether your ‘no’ will be met with a backhand. You know that breaks my heart?”
You blink and pull away from him. He isn’t unemotional, but it’s a surprise nonetheless to hear him talk like this. “Aaron–”
“Please,” he says. “I shouldn’t ask you to. But there are better places for you. You deserve more.”
If it were anyone else you might get defensive. Only people who do your job could understand why you do it, it’s a hundred different things to you, but you do deserve more. You’re sick of leery men, sick of wolf whistles and bad tips and other people's hands. Hotch has never asked you to stop, but now he is, it’s to keep you safe.
You can’t begrudge him.
“I’m sorry,” you say.
“No.” He rubs your arm. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. And I’ll make it right.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I’ll make it right,” he promises. “No matter what. No one gets to hurt you.”
You could quit. You want to. Even if it’s just for a couple of weeks, just so you don’t have to pretend you know what you’re doing. You’ll think about it in the morning. “Could I stay with you for a bit?” you whisper. “Just tonight. Please.”
Hotch taps your back for you to stand. He stands with you, brushing down your coat, his eyes impassive where they look over your face, your purpling bruise.
“You can wait in the car,” he says quietly. “I’m going to ask a few questions inside before we leave.”
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble
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Hi! I would love to request some cuddling scenarios with Lucifer, Alastor, and Vox!
SOFT MOMENT OF NON SEXUAL INTIMACY?! IN THIS HOUSE?! Yes, please!
It's implied romantic but could be queer platonic or a queer/nontraditional couple.
Lucifer
This man wants snuggles. Any way he can get them any time, he isn't required to not be physically attached to you. He really struggles with derealization/depersonalization. His depression gets bad, he isolates, and time has pretty much lost meaning to him after being around so long, so he just kinda, wastes away into sadness. It's how he and Charlie fell apart the first time, and he really doesn't want it to happen again.
Having you around to just talk to, hold hands with, sit on your lap, or you in his, it helps. It's like a reminder that he's still alive and someone wants to be around him. Someone wants to spend time with him. That you care. It also motivates him to stay in contact with Charlie instead of convincing himself she's better without him.
He still loves Lillith, regrets they aren't together, but he doesn't blame her for leaving. He's more upset with how it affects Charlie. So he makes extra effort to spend time with you, to acknowledge how important you are to him. He's so paranoid about ruining this relationship. This man has centuries of being told everything is his fault, everything wrong with the world, and is forced to face that supposed truth every day he rules Hell.
His favorite thing is just pulling you on top of him like a weighted blanket, wrapping his wings around the both of you, and laying in a dark, warm, cocoon. He'll take deep breaths, pet your hair, and just let himself finally relax. The first few times you'd stayed quiet, assuming that's what he wanted, but it just makes it easier for him to disassociate.
Now you talk to him, softly, about your day, ask about his. You slowly get him to open up about his favorite things, good memories he has of Lillith, baby Charlie, the sins, times before the Fall. It's a long process to get him to talk about it. Please be patient and gentle with him. He likes when you play with his fingers while he talks, just holding his hand and twisting and turning it, moving his rings around, just don't touch his wedding ring please, maybe you even manage to do his nails in this position.
His second favorite is when you help preen his feathers, gently massaging his wing joints, polishing each feather with the oil from his glands, using your thumbs to work out knots in the muscles around the base. It always turns into a full back massage that leaves him purring, making happy sighing sounds and little moans. He usually falls asleep like this. Don't worry though, once he wakes up, he's definitely returning the favor. He does head massages too! He prepares a little personal spa day for you.
He isn't really looking for anything more intimate when he's in one of sadder moods and is cuddling with you to feel better, he wouldn’t turn it down, he's too afraid you'd be upset, but he really just wants to be held or to hold someone. It's the little things that really make you special to him, and he cherishes every second you guys are together.
Alastor
We all know Alastor isn't a fan of being touched unless he initiates it. There are very few exceptions to this, so you have to be pretty close to him to even get the option to cuddle him.
You'll have to start slow, like holding his hand. A lot of people think he's the type to not want to do too much PDA, but like, look at how he is with Rosie and Mimzy in front of everyone. He doesn't care. Not for small things like hand holding. This eventually leads to him putting his arm around your waist as you're walking together, or around your shoulders if you're sitting next to each other so you can lean on his shoulder.
Now more intimate gestures, like cheek kisses, forehead kisses, petting his ears, those are private. He will resist at first, preferring to lavish you with attention, but be stubborn, match his energy, especially the witty banter, and eventually you'll wear him down.
It's canon that Alastor's hardly ever sleeps, so I imagine if you're a motherly type, (regardless of gender), or someone he genuinely trusts (because its not about if he's safe. He's the Radio Demon, very few sinners are a threat to him, so being a little vulnerable with you is safe no matter the level of trust) he's going to pass out.
You're in his room (or yours, but he prefers his) and he agreed to let you pet his ears. You settle on the bed, his head on your chest or lap, and he closes his eyes, soft jazz music playing from some unseen source, and maybe you're watching something on your phone, (he allows it only if it's something he can enjoy as well, but he usually winds up listening more than watching because screens hurt his eyes after awhile) more likely you're listening to a podcast, Alastor likes listening to true crime with you.
Your fingers gently run through his hair at first. You tease him about the bob sometimes, but understand that he's prone to pulling his hair out otherwise. Eventually you notice the music has stopped and Alastor's fast asleep, the smile on his face is so small it nearly doesn't exist, and his breathing is slow and even. His ears twitch when you stop petting them, and he stirs a bit, so you quickly resume playing with them and he falls back asleep.
(His tail is sensitive too, if you ever wanna fluster him, just run a finger down his spine to that cute little tail and give it a gentle tug.)
Alastor is also prone to play biting, so if you're an excited nibbler who gives noms, expect your cuddles to end up with a few bite marks.
Vox
It's really hard for him to sit still long, so if he's working late and you want to spend time with him, just crawl yourself into his lap and get comfy. He'll grumble and complain about the distraction, but it's all for show. He'll put his arm around your waist and trace your hipbones with his thumb, or play with your hair, run his fingers up and down your back, just small fidgety things.
He understands his head is inconvenient for snuggles, and he may not be the most comfortable. (I headcanon his body is built like the Detroit Become Human bots, with like silicone padding to appear/feel like skin, but it's hard plastic and metal and wires underneath with biomechanical parts inside.)
He is warm, though, and has the constant hum of his internal fans and electricity, so he's great for sensory snuggles. He's great for when you're sore or have migraines (surprisingly, but he can turn his brightness down at will). He likes to do more traditional forms of PDA.
He walks with his hand on your lower back. (He and Alastor both absolutely do the subconscious walk with their partners on the inside and them closest to the streets or alleyways. Lucifer would, but he probably isn't even aware it's a thing.)
You're cooking/baking/doing anything with your back to him, he puts his hands on your waist and leans against you. He's 7ft tall so he probably won't lean his entire body on you, but enough to feel close to you.
His favorite snuggles are disgustingly domestic. Like, his all time favorite, is when you're both sitting together on a couch, enjoying a movie or show, or maybe you're reading or on your phone or gaming, and he's working, just anytime you're occupying the couch together and existing, he'll pull your feet into his lap and massage them.
It's not like, a fetish thing, he just thinks it's sweet. A nice gesture to show how much he appreciates what you do, how hard you work. He'll massage your ankles and calfs too. He's also prone to trying to play with your hair and massage your scalp when you're laying on his chest at night, but his claws get tangled easily. Settles for rubbing your shoulders/back.
He likes when you rub his back and neck too. The man spends way too much time hunched over his desk at work. His back aches from doing the gremlin hunch over his desk to standing ramrod straight in front of cameras, sitting properly and confidently, stiff as a fucking board. You once teased him about how he could just use one of his cardboard cutouts as a stand-in, and no one would know.
Other times, he likes to lay on you. The first few times he sprawled across your lap seeking affection and reassurance for his fragile ego, you'd been so nervous to crack his screen. But now you're more used to it and will even playfully try and poke it/tap it. Between you and Valentino, Vox has had to rule out ever getting a touch screen for a head, because neither of you will stop fucking with it. It does make him laugh, though, adorable little giggles he'd rather die than let the general public hear. It usually turns into a playful wrestling match and aggressive cuddles with a side of petty static electricity from Vox.
#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel lucifer#vox x reader#alastor x reader#lucifer x reader
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Simon Riley NSFW hcs ♡
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Two lovely people asked for my NSFW Simon headcannons and I'm happy to provide!!
Just a disclaimer, these are my headcannons. If you have ones that are totally different, that's okay!
He's fictional and can be whatever you want him to be <3 (except a rapist. We don't do that here.)
If you have any COD thoughts or requests, my inbox is open!!
~ Fi 🐝
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I'm a soft!Simon truther until death.
There's not a single reality in which I can see him ever being too rough with you, let alone hurting you.
First of all, he has no fucking clue what he's doing. He's maybe had sex 2-3 times in his life and I don't think any of them were memorable or good.
I'd wager that all of them were hookups, encouraged by other soldiers to "let off steam". But Simon just can't do it, it feels so wrong. To give himself so fully to someone he doesn't even know.
There needs to be an emotional connection in order for him to feel comfortable and good. He needs to trust and love this person before he can do anything with them.
It's gonna take a while for him to open up, but once he does everything is smooth sailing.
(I also don't think he masturbated excessively. He probably jerked off, everyone gets horny, but especially if we say he's on antidepressants, his sex drive is pretty low. He's either too tired or just doesn't care)
Your first time together was fueled by a, not so uncommon, make-out session on his couch. It'd usually end with you grinding on his thigh or rubbing yourself over his clothed cock until you both reached a satisfactory end.
Simon thinks he could live an entire relationship with only sticking to dry humping, but in reality he's just terrified of the intimacy of real sex.
It's not too romantic, none of that rose petals lit candle stuff. It's not that Simon hates all of that, but I just think it'd be too much for the first time.
He's already so nervous (so are you probably if we're honest) and all that extra stuff would overwhelm the fuck out of him.
(He will spoil you with rose petals and candles another night, even if it just ends you with you falling asleep in eachother's arms <3)
Eventhough it's soft and sweet, you're both still very horny and basically rip the clothes off of the other.
Foreplay is important!!! (For all my girlies who don't drip down their thighs)
Not only for you but for him too. Even if he's rock hard already, he wants to enjoy himself, maybe be a tease. He will always make sure that you're okay and ready (and so will you bc he deserves it).
Would literally eat you out to calm himself down. He probably has fallen asleep while licking your pussy, it's his personal meditation.
Your taste, the way you feel on his tongue and the fact that he was two perfectly good pillows wrapped around his head made it easy for him to nod off.
Also, he prefers it hairy. (Fight me.) (pls don't)
I know it's cliche but he's like 2 seconds away from just coming inside of you the second he pushes in. Not only does he feel good but when he looks down he sees you and he could cry from how happy he is. He just loves you so much.
Can we please put the "You only take half of him" bullshit to rest??? Thank you. We all know Simon as BDE but let's keep it on the real side okay. He couldn't give less of a shit if you can take him to the hilt or not.
(Some gals physically can't bc if your vaginal canal is too short, then it's impossible. You don't want a bruised cervix, so don't be stupid) I do think when he's more comfortable about it and a little more desperate and rough, he'll play into the size kink.
He probably has a huge size kink anyway but he would never make you feel bad if you couldn't take all of him. (Especially if you're giving him head bc let's be real that thing is not going down no one's throat okay)
He has the prettiest moans. I JUST KNOW IT. they're more throaty and deep but they sound good. I honestly don't think this man is capable of whimpering (like physically. Not with that smoker lung) sorry babes.
Simon isn't too loud, but just enough to make you that much hotter. He will try to pull more moans out of you, like a little challenge for himself.
NONE OF THAT "10 rounds Riley" SHIT. (Have any of y'all ever had an orgasm before like?? Who the fuck is going ten rounds??? Not me that's for sure lmao) it really all depends on your guys' mood and neediness on that day.
I do think he can and wants to go a couple of rounds but it's probably more on the rare side and never more than 4.
He knocks out immediately. He's always tired anyways.
I think his favorite positions are missionary, prone bone, and cow girl. He likes the closeness, wants to feel every part of you and kiss it like his life depends on it.
The further you are into your relationship, the more new stuff you can try out. He's always gonna be hesitant at first but if it's not too out there he'll try it.
Simon will tell you if something is a hard no for him and he expects you to respect, just as he would for you.
Would 100% make you ride his face. Wants to he smothered in it okay. (Simon said sit, so sit.)
Simon would be down to tying you up (one condition; you're never tied to anything. In case of emergencies)
You won't get him to be tied up though, that's a real hard no.
I think the closest you'd get to a submissive Simon is if you order him around.
He's sitting on his knees before you and you tell him exactly what you want him to do (one thing Simon Riley can do is follow orders) and he'll pretend to let you be in control and maybe you are for a while, but deep down he's always in control (not necessarily sexual or possessively, he just needs the security)
He loves to get head (not as much as giving it tho) but he will never ever force his cock down your throat, even if you begged him.
He can't do it, won't do it. Has he had the urge and fantasies?? Sure, but it goes against everything he promised when you got into a relationship.
Sweetly suck on his tip and stroke the rest of his length and he's happy as a clam <3
His absolutely favorite thing is when you ride him in the morning. Just lazy and sloppy circles of your hips while you sit on top of him. He loves the sight.
Simon'll gently hold onto your hips and guide you if need be. It's even better if you're laying flush against his chest and the both of you are snuggled under the blanket.
Bonus; he loves to make-out with you. It's an unhealthy obsession that has led to too much lipgloss/lipstick ingested just bc the fucker couldn't wait 2 minutes for you to take it off.
Kissing you is his number 1 way to show you how much he loves you since words aren't his strong suit.
Needless to say, he's head over heels for you, and the sex is great. <3
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
I hope you lovelies enjoyed it!
More of my works --> 💫
#bumblebeesfromvenus#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#ghost cod#ghost call of duty
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I know this is like short notice and you basically just posted the loser!simon Drabble but omg I need more. I’ve so far never seen a fic that lets Simon relax while you ride him or something. I’ve seen similar, but if you wouldn’t mind could you make a fic following Simon being super tired, and when he gets home you were a horny mess and then you make him a horny mess but he doesn’t have the energy to jerk it so you help him out. Fem reader please!! I really want him to use the rest of his energy to like play with your tits and then lay down.
Also you’re the only person I tolerate for the !! For smutty stuff. Usually it makes me cringe because it feels so childish. But you do it in a hot way. I think. Idk. I like the energy you put in ur writing if ykwim
warnings: fem! afab! reader, kinda subby Simon??, bro's down bad for you and thinks you're a goddess, relaxed Si :)
Wjahskshsjjs jus' somewhat lazy sex with the good ol' big british man. He's sure comes home tired and late. He has been for the past few days. It hadn't really affect you in a way that disrupted your everyday routine. But lately there's been a craving, an issue brought by your brain to your heart that lately it's been feeling... neglected. It starts as a distant feeling, an untouched part of your body that longs to be noticed. It's like chaising after a mysterious high while blinded, no sense of direction, and no chance of ever finding it. Leaving you feeling lonely and trapped, cold and empty. So, to put it simply. You're pent up. All hot and bothered and way too eager to slip your hands in your pants. Lucky for you though, your night won't end with just self satisfaction, because barging in through the door is your saviour, all tired eyes and gruff groans. Fuck. It's like you've pavlov'd yourself into getting incredibly horny at just the sight of your Si.
He on the other hand, feels like shit. Being away from you is more than enough torture, but having you pounce on him the moment he enters through the door is another new story on itself. He's neglected his baby :( his pretty girl. All quiet whimpers when you kiss him all over the neck "missed you s' much Si". Shit, he's already half chubbing in his pants at just hearing your tone. It's not long before he goes cum brained as well. Thinking with the wrong head and dry humping you in the hallway. You're squealin' n moanin' and oh shit he's going to cum. he's going to cum. he's going to cum. he's going to– You pull away. Now if it was any other day he would've shot you a glare. Maybe even disappointedly shaking his head. "Careful, love, you're playin' with fire.." he would've said, but right now he's red in the face, sweaty and desperate. Rolling his hips into nothing, hoping to get it to rub into you. Simon looks weak and he knows, slightly enjoys the power imbalance between you two because now you've grabbed him by the collar like a dog and dragged him towards the couch.
On his lap not a second later and you two are back to humping at each other through your clothes. He's tired. Limbs so heavy, bones weighed down with fatigue and he feels like he's already dreaming. You're like a wet dream that's come to life. There's just something about the way you look at him that makes it impossible to lay his eyes on anything else. Like a goddess on a thrown. That's how he sees you. Mighty and malevolent, feeling so small in your gaze but drinking it all in like a man parched, nothing can bring you down. Despite this– the tiredness of his bones– he wills his arms to move. To help you take off your top. It's intimate and it has his breath catching in his throat. He's seen you shirtless countless times before, but the thrill, the electrifying sparks it sends up his spine, it always feels new. Panting like a mutt he hasn't even noticed that he's already been let out of his pants, too busy admiring your chest. Reaching his hand out to toy with the soft peak, letting out an accidental whimper at the sudden contact of your hands with his hard cock. You shush him, remind him to relax, you can handle this, you promise with a kiss to the tip of his nose. And just like that he's sinking into the couch. Eyes closed in bliss and a handful of your mounds in his hands.
Heaven on earth. Blooming flowers in the harsh winter. Rain after months of drought. This is peace. This is pleasure. Simon's convinced that there's no earthly power greater than your hands, or your soft kisses. The gentle timbres of your voice. The way your pussy feels so hot and welcoming. So occupied and drunk off of your divinity that he hasn't had the time to prepare himself for your hot walls enveloping all of him inside. It makes his eyes shoot open and his back arch. You don't move, leaning down to put your mouth against his, swallowing every moan and whimper, and rewarding him with a teasing grind. He lays pliant soon enough, groaning at the way you bring yourself up till the tip kisses your entrance, before snapping your hips down to get him back inside. You ride him like you can't live without it. Sweet girl with an equally sweet pussy. He thought you well.
a/n: PHEW, I'm rusty as shits forgive me, I've got other stuff cooking in my drafts I swear I'm not lazy. This was kinda bad, written in two hours cause I sneaked this in between doing my papers. Hope y'all liked this, remember to always drink water n take your meds!!
Yours, truly,
–Dolly
#cod x reader#cod imagine#call of duty x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader smut#simon smut#x female reader#cod x reader smut
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CHALLENGERS (2024) PROMPTS
* assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary.
who says i want somebody to be in love with me?
i don't want to fuck you to prove a point.
fuck me because you want to.
are you gonna do it or not?
tastes even better than it looks.
i just told you i missed you.
i really want to kiss you right now, but i'm worried that if i try, you'll think i'm the worst friend in the world.
you know, it hurts me sometimes how little you believe in yourself.
decimate that little bitch.
let's be honest, you gotta feel bad for the kid.
you're not a spring chicken anymore.
dude. he's a pancake. you're gonna flatten him.
how's this feeling?
we're ready for you.
so obviously this isn't the result you wanted today.
you choked.
i don't want you to embarrass yourself.
i'm just a little rusty. it's a confidence thing.
get your fucking confidence back. i can't do it for you.
i'm so sick of you using this as an excuse to have a fucking meltdown.
you said we could watch a movie.
you're evil.
i'm gonna quiz you on it tomorrow.
sir, i don't know who you are.
i don't think we have much more to talk about.
i haven't spoken to you in five years.
i was just taking a little nap.
move, or i'm calling the cops.
you were really something back then, huh?
we always talked about how amazing it would be to win this together.
i'm a crazy person.
any predictions about how that's going to go?
can you do me a favor? can you not, like... demolish me tomorrow?
shut the fuck up.
if it matters to you so much, i can just give it to you.
i need it to look like i really beat you.
don't guilt me with your dying grandmother.
she's the hottest woman i've ever seen.
you were... fucking incredible.
baby, we've got to get going.
i'm not going to that party.
are you that threatened by me?
we can't both just go in there, dicks swinging.
i'd let her fuck me with a racket.
hey, do you smoke?
of course they will remember you.
see, that's your problem. you think you're like an artist or something.
you just want to win because you love it when people tell you how talented you are.
are you on facebook?
i told you tennis was boring.
you just got this crazy look on your face.
are you on a date?
i don't kiss and tell.
why did you want to have dinner with me?
i think you might be the worst friend in the world.
i didn't know you were so concerned about my feelings.
of course you still have a thing for her.
we just had what i'm assuming is the best sex of our lives.
i fucked your brains out?
what do you think you need? a cheerleader? a fuck buddy? a girlfriend?
you're talented, you're charming, and you've got a big dick.
excuse me for inconveniencing you.
don't expect to sleep here tonight.
stop going easy on me.
i'll be whatever you need me to be. i'll fuck off if you want me to.
i need you here, actually.
you're referring to when i declared my love for you.
you're not in love with me anymore?
i've been dreaming about this for five years.
i'm gonna propose something to you, and it's gonna make you angry. it's gonna make you very angry. but you have to hear me out, okay?
i'm finally ready to listen to you.
how dare you fucking ask me that.
do you think it's cute what you're doing? do you think it's funny?
that's the stupidest fucking thing i've ever heard.
i've always wanted you.
you didn't do anything to me. i did it all to myself.
i think i've reached the limit of my willingness to have this conversation with you.
do you understand how embarrassing it is that you're here?
you've never beaten me.
tell me it doesn't matter.
will you just hold me?
i'm not here to fuck you.
i miss watching you play. you were so beautiful.
#challengers#mcflymemes#rp prompt#rp meme#rp memes#roleplay memes#roleplay prompt#rp starters#ask meme#ask memes#roleplay meme#sentence starter#sentence starters#sentence starter prompt#roleplay inbox prompts#rp inbox meme#inbox prompt#inbox meme#look at me making memes left and right today
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just a silly crush (not) pt.1
pairing: daniel ricciardo x childhood friend-brabham!reader ; lewis hamilton x reader (implied, platonic relationship)
summary: even after two decade of constant battle with his own silly first love slash crush and manage to almost win the fight, you're still the one who manage to knock the breath out of him. and yet, here you are, still oblivious to his feeling.
this is set in 2021, so papaya daniel :D.
warning: unedited and rushed work (I GOT INSPIRED AFTER TWO CANS OF REDBULL RAAAAAAHHHH), harsh words, childhood trauma (kinda), slowburn (we're talking about 20 years of pining from danny)
"c'mon danny, you never say no to a good party!" lando whines as he follow the irritated daniel around like a puppy.
the older man let out a sigh before continuing what he left behind; wiping his helmet. lando stomp his feet once–then let out an exageratted sigh as he sat down beside him.
"just leave your helmet and go out with us!" he insisted.
"lando, no." he sternly said.
"you never say no to a party! especially monaco party."
its true, daniel would never refuse an invitation to a party. in fact, most of the time he would be the one who send out the invitation to everyone on grid. but it's different. today is different.
"it is (y/n) brabham we talked about dan! don't you want to go to her dope party?" lando reason.
if only you knew that is the reason why i refuse to go, lando. daniel thought. "so? why do i have to come along?" he asked, finally facing the young brit.
"uhhh, because it is y/n? she's like a hot topic and the it girl of the paddock right now? daughter of david-fucking-brabham? and maybe i want to know her more?" he answer as if the answer he said is the most obvious answer.
"and i heard from max that she is your friend! so maybe you can-"
"was." daniel stop him.
"damn, okay. she was your friend, whatever. and maybe you can introduce me to her." lando scoff.
your name is still a sour topic to him, leaving a bad taste in his mouth and saying that word killing him inside. yet, he doesn't have the courage to elaborate more to the poor confused lando norris.
(y/n) brabham, the famous australian model turn to actress and daughter of david brabham–yes the david brabham, become the hot flaming topic on the grid after her unexpected debut on the paddock at bahrain gp as lewis hamilton's plus one.
while other drivers didn't think about it a lot, daniel feel like he's about to passed out right then when he saw y/n walking beside lewis, in black mercedes polo—matching with the man beside her–while laughing and waving at the media crew.
maybe because she was also known for her controversial on stating her dislike over the motorsport that his father (and his family) was famously known for. it was not her cup of tea, she said back in her 2019 famous vogue interview.
and maybe because his father insisted on pushing it to her and her younger sibling. and of course their famous leaked dispute over the death of brabham motor company. either way, (y/n) and formula one has never seen in the same sentences. it is just an unwritten and unspoken rule at this point.
max–being the only person who knows about daniel's pathetic one-sided first love– was there to hold daniel's body, giving the poor man some reassuring pats on the back. "mate, if i were (y/n) i would also choose lewis." he said, and daniel swear he's about to knock the blue eyed dutchmen out.
although lewis officialy stated that you were just his friend and fellow ambassador for tommy hilfiger on interview for a few times now, daniel can't help but to get jealous at the 7 times world champion.
because of course you would show up as lewis hamilton's plus one rather than his, despite your history. and after many attempts of invitation and bribery that failed, he just stop asking.
"danny, i hate loud noises and i know how loud those cars are. and also, you know how i feel about the sport"
loud noises his ass.
lando leaning in closer now, shoulder touching his as he stare at the older men with those disgusting puppy eyes. daniel push the younger men on the forehead, as he shake his head.
"oh c'mon now! don't make me call for reinforcement to get you out of here!" lando said as he grab his phone from the back pocket of his jeans, and typing furiously.
"what reinforcement?" daniel asked, eyebrow raised in question.
not even a minute later daniel's motorhome door open, then, enter max verstappen along with carlos sainz and charles leclerc.
"that." lando simply stated as he point to the trio.
max watch in amusement, folding his hand in front of his chest.
"get 'em boys." he said.
"wha-"
"sorry cabrón, we have to get you outta here." carlos said as he walk to his direction, holding his left arm.
"what he said." charles said, grinning as he hold the opposite arm.
"seriously? you're gonna drag me out of my own place?" he asked as he forced to stand up from his seat, not even resisting because god knows how strong these two people are. especially the spaniard.
"yep."
"yeah, pretty much."
"uh-huh."
lando, carlos, and charles said at the same time.
daniel then turn his gaze to the dutch, annoyed at how his smirk seems to speak a thousand words despite being the most silent out of four.
"i expect these three gremlins to be the one who did this to me, but you?" he said, eyes glaring at the dutchmen.
"well, beat me for wanting a good source of entertainment for free, ricciardo." max said, shrugging his shoulders.
"i am going to kill you all, with my own hands."
he already lost lando, carlos, and charles the second they enters the club and god knows where max and kelly are. the lovebird seems to be touchy even before entering the club and now danny needs a glass–or two, of the strongest liquor they legally able to serve.
the–clearly exclusive–club where your party was held is amazing to say the least. it would have been a big fat lie if danny said he was not impressed by the place. he walk through the sea of human, heading straight to the bar as he scan the room.
"oh?" a familiar voice interrupt his train of thoughts as he turn his head to the source.
"they did manage to drag you out of your fortress, i thought carlos was joking. huh, impressive." you said, occupying the empty seat beside him.
"that, they did." is the only response he said as he shot you a thin smile.
"you look good, ricciardo." you smile at him, squeezing his shoulder in friendly manner.
"and so are you, brabham." another dry response from him.
"ugh please, i want to get married just so i can get rid of that cursed last name." you said, rolling your eyes. god you do hate your last name.
"right." he coldly stated.
you nod your head as you brought the martini glass close to your mouth. ah, he's mad at you still, you thought. and he have every right to do so. showing up at the paddock out of nowhere after rejecting his invitations since 2012, without telling him first, was a jerk move.
so, you did the right thing you know.
"sorry about bahrain. i- it was for work purpose." you said, facing him with guilty eyes. you knew this would hurt him.
"its alright, y/n." he answer, refusing to face you because–oh god you look and smell so good and he didn't want to let his wall down. and he knew if he face you, he won't be able to stay mad at you. you are his kryptonite after all, always have been. but tonight he want be strong. he want to be pissed at you.
"well, enjoy the party i guess. and thanks for coming." you chimed, sliding out from the seat as you rub his shoulder.
daniel's fast reflex is both curse and blessing for him. and boy do he feel like it was a curse. because before even his mind processing what is happening when her hand touch his shoulder, his hand was already firm on your wrist, refusing to let go.
you watch him with a mixed of both puzzled and surprised look.
"danny? you need something?" you asked.
his mouth agape, seems to be clueless and surprised at how fast his hand reacted. damn his good reflex.
"oh–um. no, sorry." he managed to say as words seems to be tied inside his throat, unwiling to spilled out as he stare at you blankly.
"oh-kay?" you said.
he let go of your wrist, as if your skin burn him. as if your skin a flaming fire. "sorry."
you open your mouth to say something, but-
"daniel!" both you and daniel whip your head to the sound.
max is waving his hand at him while kelly was nowhere to be seen. but from the goofy smile, max's disheveled hair, and his flushed cheeks, danny might have some ideas about her whereabout.
"i thought you run away or something." the blue eyed dutchmen said as he approach his former teammate with a smile.
"speak for yourself max, i've been here all the time. where have you been?" daniel said, amused look on his face.
"oh! just–uh–dancing with kelly." he speak, trying to clear his throat.
you let out a giggle which causing max to raised an eyebrow at you. that cause you to start laughing.
"uhh, what so funny y/n?" he asked.
daniel roll his eyes as he pointed max's neck and collarbone. "seems like a good dance, look at you all flushed and littered with lipstick stains."
max turned pale as he hide his neck with his hand, immediately buttoning his shirt up to hide the evidence.
"i'm–ahaha–i'm not... you know what? i'll just go..." he said, quickly turn his heels to walk away from the embarrassing situation he's in.
both you and daniel watch as max trying his best to hide himself in the crowds. and when he is out of sight, daniel let out a holler.
"that little rascal," he said, downing his whiskey "oh right, you were about to say something. what is it?" he asked, turning his body to fully face you now. thanks to max, daniel feel a little more calm now.
you give him a smile, shaking your head. "i forgot about it," you simply said with a shrug "it was nice talking to you daniel, really. i have to go and greet another guest now and um–sorry, again. hope we're cool now?" you said, offering a hand for him to shake.
daniel stare at your awaiting hand, finally giving you that sunshine smile before taking your hand in his, shaking it. "we're cool, brabham," he said "only if you come to spa as my plus one."
"oh... but–i have a catwalk on the race day." you said, opening your calendar app on your phone.
"hmm, zandvoort then?"
"photoshoots."
"alright. monza?"
"ah another, photoshoots."
"oh."
"but i can come. the photoshoot will be held in monaco anyways, so it's not that far." you said, showing him your–packed to the year end–schedule.
"really?" daniel said, voice full of hope.
"its only fair if i come to your race since i came for lewis's," she said, smiling at him brightly. "but–"
daniel expression fell, anxiously waiting for what you have to say next.
"you have to win."
he let out the breath he's been holding on, wiping his face before chuckling.
"you have yourself a deal, brabham."
"win that race, ricciardo." you said, giving him a kiss on his cheek.
daniel's grip on your hand loosen as he gave you a warm stare, caramel colored eyes staring at your orbs with some unreadable expression.
"oh i will win this battle, brabham. just wait." he said with more of certainity in his voice now.
#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo#daniel ricciardo imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fic#formula 1#dr3 x reader#dr3#daniel riccardo imagine
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dating denki kaminari
pairing: denki kaminari x gn!reader
tags: wholesome fluff, established relationship, flirty denki, silly petnames, mentions of the bakusquad
denki is flirty! like, really flirty. he wants to show you he likes you and while he flirts with some other guys and girls too, he'll sometimes drop his funny & flirty act and let you know he's serious about you!
denki has a bit of dating experience before he starts dating you! he's been on a few dates before and had a girlfriend or two. plus he flirted with enough people already!
denki can be pretty bad when it comes to expressing his feelings for you! it's not like he isn't super sweet, but he likes to joke around a lot and only rarely can seriously tell you he loves you, as he gets way too flustered and worried you might not like him when he's so serious…
but denki genuinely cares about you! yes, he might flirt and joke around a lot, but underneath it all is a caring guy. you're able to see this side of him and know that he's a good guy, with some hidden insecurities that you hope he can get leave behind with your help
denki doesn't blush a lot, but whenever you genuinely compliment him or tell him that you love him, he can't help but get flustered and giddy!
denki is very clingy and beyond happy when initiate hugs or hold his hand! after all, it gives him reassurance that you actually like him!
denki needs physical contact, constantly. he's always holding hands, poking you to annoy you and such. personal space is something he never heard of! or maybe he just enjoys being in your personal space more than he enjoys his own…
he also loves to give you intentionally cringey nicknames, like “hot stuff”, “sparkles” or “sweetie”! he'll even use those around other people, especially his friends
speaking of them, almost all of your dates with denki involve his friends! he always drags you along to hang out with his friends, play games and order take out! it's his favorite way to spend time with you!
though from time to time, denki catches himself getting jealous when he sees how well you get along with his friends. he wonders if you might like someone strong like kirishima more or someone confident like bakugou…
but whenever he catches himself have those thoughts, denki pulls you close to him and peppers you with kisses, which often seems a little quirky and random from your perspective. but to him, it's a reminder that he's the only one who gets to do that!
#denki kaminari x reader#denki x reader#kaminari x reader#denki kaminari#denki#kaminari#x reader#x you#x y/n#x gn reader#kaminari denki#chargebolt#chargebolt x reader#fluff#headcanons#dating#mha x reader#bnha x reader#mha#bnha#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#boku no hero academia x reader#my hero academia x reader
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𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐔𝐒 ─ AS³⁷
TRACK 4 ─── DOWN BAD
TTPD CELLY MASTERLIST !
౨ৎ ─ summary | one summer, one town and the fullest love you've ever felt all to be ripped away from you. life was pointless without the love of your life, your soulmate (even if you'd only known him for three months).
─ word count | 3.4k
─ warnings | dramatic af, oh god, so so so so so much angst WITH NO HAPPY ENDING (ur gonna cry by the end of this), where do i even begin? love bombing, LYING AF, andrei being mysterious asf, mention of life being hopeless, very depressive themes and like.. babygirl is GOING THROUGH ITTTT, maybe even suicidal themes (depends on your perspective), lmk if i missed anything else?
─ ev's notes | down bad has been on repeat since friday, it's genuinely so addicting (but like... the entire album is so?)
YOU LIFE FELT ABSOLUTELY hopeless, like the color was drained from it.
How could one summer change the whole trajectory of your life, you're not sure. Your entire perspective of love had been turned upside down, each day felt like a struggle just to breathe, let alone find any semblance of meaning or joy. It was as if the universe had conspired to strip away every ounce of hope, leaving behind only an empty shell of a person.
How could you let someone con you so easily? Make you believe that you were his soulmate, only to absolutely wreck you? You couldn't help but wonder if he felt even a shred of sympathy and if he ever stopped to think about you, like you did with him?
How could you have been so naive, so blindly hopeful in the face of his deceit? The wounds he inflicted cut deeper than mere flesh and bone; they pierced straight to the core of your being, leaving behind scars that may never fully heal.
You could barely get out of bed ─ you can't even remember a time when you didn't know him, even if you'd know him a short span of time. The weight of his absence feels like a physical force, pinning you down to the bed as if gravity itself has conspired against you. How could you go on without him, when every corner of your world still echoes with his presence?
It's as if he had woven himself into the fabric of your being, leaving no thread untouched by his influence. Even the simplest of tasks feel overwhelming without his guidance, his encouragement, his love.
You try to remember a time before him, a time when your heart beat to a rhythm untouched by his melody. But the memories blur together, distorted by the prism of his existence. It's as if he had always been there, a constant presence in your life, one way or another.
──
"Are you a local?"
You turned around to face the voice that had drawn you out of your thoughts, an annoyed expression on your face. But as you looked up to meet his chocolate brown eyes, all the irritation had quickly dissipated.
First, you noticed his eyes ─ they were so big and brown, you could feel yourself get lost in them. Then your gaze fell to his lips and ultimately, his smile and his dimple. Whoa, he was gorgeous.
"Uh, yeah." You got out as you managed a smile, turning to face him completely.
His smile widened at your response, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of warmth in your chest at the sight of it. It was infectious, lighting up his face in a way that made it impossible to look away.
"Great!" he replied, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "I'm here on vacation. Any recommendations on where to grab a bite to eat?"
His voice carried a hint of a Russian accent weaving through each word like a thread of silk. It added an extra layer of intrigue to his already captivating presence, drawing you in even further.
"Actually, there's this little café a few blocks down the street that serves amazing sandwiches," you offered, your voice betraying a hint of excitement. "I could show you, if you'd like."
God, what were you doing? You didn't even know what you were saying before the words flew out of your mouth. To your surprised, his smile widened into a grin as he nodded.
His eyes sparkled with amusement as he nodded in agreement. "I would love that," he replied, his accent lending a charming cadence to his words.
As you stood up from his seat, you took in his build; you just realized how tall he was. He towered over you, his frame exuding a quiet strength that only added to his allure. It was as if he commanded the space around him effortlessly, a gentle giant in a world full of noise.
Together, you made your way out of the café and onto the street, the sounds of the city fading into the background as you fell into step beside him. His presence was comforting, reassuring, like a steady anchor in the midst of chaos even though you'd just met the stranger.
As you walked, you found yourself stealing glances at him, admiring the way the sunlight caught in his hair, the way his eyes crinkled with laughter at something you said.
Arriving at the café, you found a table by the window. As you settled in, the conversation began flowing effortlessly between you. With each passing moment, you felt yourself drawn deeper into his orbit, captivated by the way his presence seemed to fill the room with warmth.
"So, what do you do, Andrei?" You found yourself asking as he paused for a moment, taking a sip of his drink before sighing.
"I'd... I'd hoped you didn't ask that." Andrei's tone came out amusing but you could hear the sincerity, too. "I play for the Hurricanes. A hockey team."
You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in surprise at Andrei's revelation. "The Hurricanes? That's impressive,"
"It is, but it's very demanding. That's why I came here," he explained as a smile began playing on his lips. "To get away from everything, even just for summer."
"Why would you want to get away?" You asked, your curiosity getting the best of you. As you registered your words, you shook your head as you sighed. "You don't have to answer that."
Andrei's smile softened, a flicker of gratitude shining in his eyes at your understanding. "No, it's okay," he replied, his voice carrying a note of sincerity. "Sometimes, even the things we love can become overwhelming. I guess I just needed a break, a chance to clear my head and remember what's really important."
"I get that," you said, a small smile playing on your lips. "Sometimes, we all need a moment to step back and breathe, to remind ourselves of who we are outside of our titles and our accomplishments."
Andrei's gaze softened, a silent understanding passing between you. In that moment, you felt a weird connection for a moment. He let out a small chuckle as he looked away, a tinge of redness enveloping his cheeks.
"You wanna get out of here? I still haven't seen the beach and I've been here for two days." Andrei's voice was amused as his gaze finally flickered back to you.
His chuckle was infectious, and you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through you at the sight of his flushed cheeks. There was something endearing about his candidness, a rawness that drew you in even closer.
"Absolutely," you replied, a grin tugging at the corners of your lips.
After that, the two of you spent every moment together. You didn't know why you were so drawn to him ─ it wasn't just how abosolutely beautiful he was, that wasn't even a factor after you'd spent the whole week with him. It was something more, something raw you hadn't felt in a while ─ or maybe even ever.
In Andrei's presence, you felt as if you were seeing the world through new eyes. He showed you the beauty in the simplest of moments ─ the way sunlight danced on the water, the sound of laughter echoing through the streets of your hometown that you'd walked in a million times (somehow, it was different now with him), the warmth of a shared smile exchanged between two strangers.
But it wasn't just the external world that he illuminated for you; it was your own heart. With each conversation, each shared comfortable silence, he peeled back the layers of your soul, revealing the raw, unfiltered truth that lay beneath. In his arms, you felt safe, cherished, loved in a way you swear you'd never experienced before. It was a love that transcended the physical, a love that touched the very core of your being and left you breathless with wonder.
And as you lay beneath the stars in his arms, the night sky stretching out above you like a vast canvas waiting to be painted, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. For in Andrei's embrace, you had found something real ─ something cosmic and eternal.
──
"Do you ever wonder," he begins, his voice soft but filled with a sense of wonder, "if there's more to the universe than what we can see?"
You both gaze out of the bay window for a moment, the night sky stretching out before you like a vast canvas scattered with stars.
"It's... it's something I've thought about," you reply, your voice barely a whisper in the quiet of the night. "The universe is so vast, so incomprehensibly large. It's hard to believe that we're the only ones out here, you know?"
Andrei nods in agreement, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Exactly," he says, his gaze returning to the stars above. "I like to think that there's something out there, something greater than ourselves. Something that binds us all together, even when we're worlds apart."
"Yeah," you replied, your voice barely audible. "All the time, actually. It's... overwhelming, sometimes, to think about how big the universe is, how insignificant we are in comparison."
Andrei nodded, his gaze fixed on the stars twinkling in the night sky. "But isn't it also kind of liberating?" he mused.
"To know that we're just a small part of something so much bigger than ourselves? It makes all our worries and fears seem so... trivial, in the grand scheme of things."
"You're right," you said, a sense of wonder creeping into your voice. "It's like no matter what happens in our lives, the universe will keep on spinning, the stars will keep on shining. It's... comforting, in a way."
Andrei smiled, a warmth spreading through you at the sight of it. "Exactly," he said, his voice filled with quiet certainty.
A comfortable silence filled the air before he spoke up again. "You know... when we met, when I said I wanted a break?" A pang of uncertainty flickered within you at his words, but you nodded, inviting him to continue with a gentle tilt of your head.
Andrei's gaze softened as he reached out to take your hand, his touch grounding you in the present moment. "I didn't just mean from hockey," he confessed. "I meant from everything ─ the pressure, the expectations, the constant scrutiny. I needed a break from the world, from myself."
His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of truth. You listened in silence, feeling the gravity of his confession settle over you like a blanket.
"I came here seeking some kind of relief from the chaos of my life," Andrei continued, his eyes searching yours for understanding. "But what I found was so much more than that. I found you."
The sincerity in his voice struck a chord deep within you, stirring emotions you had long kept buried beneath the surface. In that moment, you realized just how much he had come to mean to you, how integral he had become to the fabric of your existence.
You'd felt like you'd known him lifetimes but in reality, you'd only known him only a couple weeks. And yet, in those fleeting weeks, Andrei had become more than just a passing acquaintance; he had become a beacon of light in the darkness, a source of comfort in a world of uncertainty.
──
Andrei's arms wrapped around your waist as you both watched the sunset go down. His large frame practically engulfed you as he stood behind you, his chin resting on your shoulder. The warm summer breeze caressed your skin, carrying with it the scent of salt and sea. You leaned back into Andrei's embrace, feeling his hands squeeze your hips.
"Let's go for a swim, yeah?" Andrei's breathe hit your neck as he spoke, sending shivers down your spine as his warm breath danced across your skin.
His suggestion brought a smile to your lips, the idea of plunging into the cool embrace of the ocean sounding utterly inviting. You turned in Andrei's arms, a playful glint in your eyes as you met his gaze.
"Are you sure?" You teased, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "The water might be colder than you think."
Andrei's lips curved into a smirk, his eyes dancing with excitement. "Only one way to find out,"
"Wait, Andrei-" Before you could protest more, Andrei pulled you up on his shoulders. You let out a fit of giggles as he carried you out to the deeper waters, his strong arms supporting you effortlessly as you clung to him, your laughter mingling with the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.
"Ready?" Andrei called over his shoulder, his voice filled with excitement.
You nodded, your heart pounding with anticipation. With a smirk, Andrei took a few more steps forward, and then, without warning, he jumped, sending you both crashing into the cool embrace of the ocean.
For a moment, you were weightless, suspended in the currents, the sound of laughter and splashing filling the air around you. And as you surfaced, gasping for breath and laughing with joy, you felt a sense of freedom wash over you ─ a freedom that only comes from letting go and embracing the spontaneity of the moment.
Andrei's laughter joined yours as he helped you to steady yourself in the water, his eyes sparkling with mischief and joy. "See? Wasn't so bad, was it?"
You grinned up at Andrei, the exhilaration of the moment coursing through your veins. "Definitely not."
Andrei grinned, his smile lighting up his face as he tugged you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."
He stared into your eyes, the grin still on his red face before he grabbed your chin and pushed his lips against yours. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer.
As you deepened the kiss, losing yourself in the intoxicating sensation of his lips on yours, you knew with unwavering certainty that this was where you belonged; in his arms, consumed by love.
His touch was electric, sending sparks dancing across your skin as you lost yourself in the intoxicating sensation of his lips moving against yours. And as you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed with emotion, you found yourself lost in the depths of Andrei's gaze. In his eyes, you saw a reflection of your own desires, mirrored back to you with an intensity that left you breathless.
He caught his breath as he laughed, giving your cheek another kiss. "I don't know how to explain how I feel about you, it's something I don't think I've felt in a long time. Or... ever."
"I feel it too," you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath of air. "Whatever it is, it's real. And that's all that matters."
Andrei's gaze softened, a smile playing on his lips as he reached out to gently caress your cheek. "I'm just glad we found each other," he said, his voice filled with quiet certainty. "And no matter what the future may hold, I'll always be by your side. You're like..."
He paused as he laughed, shaking his head with amusement. "My soulmate, or something like that."
You couldn't help but smile at his playful tone, feeling a surge of affection well up within you. "Your soulmate, huh?" you teased, "I can live with that."
Before you could fully grasp it, it had slipped away, fleeting in its passing. It was over before it even fully started. The summer had come to a close, and Andrei was talking about leaving back to Carolina.
You knew it was coming, of course it was coming. He had to go back to his home, where he worked, where his everything was. What about you? Hadn't you become his everything, just as he had become yours? Where did you fit into his world once he was gone?
And then one morning you awoke and he was gone.
It felt like something you'd seen in a movie, or read in a book. Confusion clouded your mind as you glanced around the room, searching for any sign of him. But as your gaze fell upon the empty drawers where his clothes once laid, reality came crashing down around you.
It was over.
The realization hit you like a tidal wave, sweeping away the remnants of the life you had built together over the summer. And in that moment, you felt a profound sense of loss wash over you, a hollow ache that echoed in the depths of your soul. You had known it was coming, of course. He had obligations, a life waiting for him back home. But that didn't make the pain any less palpable, the sense of abandonment any less hurtful.
Was all of it a lie? The laughter, the whispered promises, the moments shared beneath the stars – were they nothing more than empty words, hollow gestures meant to deceive?
The days following his departure, it felt hollow. It felt like you'd awoken from a daydream, something that only existed in your head. Was it really not as serious as you'd thought? Was he really not in love, as you were with him?
Life loss all of it's meaning, you never thought you'd be that girl: the girl who let a man absolutely reroot her entire life, just for him to leave. Had you really become that pathetic?
The days turned into weeks and the hollowness didn't fade, it turned into numbness then ultimately into a sense of emptiness that seemed to permeate every aspect of your being. It was as if a part of you had been hollowed out, leaving behind nothing but a void that echoed with the absence of his presence.
As the days turned into weeks, you found yourself grappling with questions that had no answers. Was it all a lie? Had he ever truly cared for you, or were you just another pawn in his game? Had you ever really known him, your Andrei? The one who held you, laughed with you, whispered promises of forever beneath the stars? Or had he been someone else entirely, a stranger acting as the love of your life?
The uncertainty gnawed at you, a relentless beast that refused to be tamed. You replayed every moment, every word, every touch, searching for clues that would unravel the mystery of his true intentions. But the more you searched, the more elusive the answers became, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand.
You found yourself crying every night, every free moment you spent bawling your eyes out over a man you're sure you'd never really known, just another stranger who had walked into your life and turned it upside down.
The pain was like a physical ache, a weight pressing down on your chest until it felt like you could hardly breathe. How could someone you had cared for so deeply have caused you so much pain? How could you have been so blind to the truth of his intentions?
You needed him again, life felt meaningless ─ no, life was meaningless without him. Nothing felt worth having without him. Without him, life felt like a barren wasteland, devoid of color and purpose. Every moment seemed to stretch on endlessly, each day blending into the next in a monotonous haze.
You found yourself longing for his presence, for the sound of his laughter and the warmth of his embrace. Without him by your side, even the simplest pleasures felt empty, leaving you adrift in a sea of loneliness. What was the point of it all, you wondered, if he wasn't there to share it with you?
No one would ever make you feel like he did, no one would ever manage to love you like he once had. It was a truth that cut to the core of your being, leaving you feeling exposed in its wake.
How could you ever hope to find happiness again when the one person who had made you feel truly alive was now gone from your life?
You tried to fill the void with distractions – with work, with friends, with anything that would help numb the ache of his absence. But no matter how hard you tried, the emptiness remained, a gaping wound that refused to heal.
In the depths of your despair, you found yourself questioning everything ─ your worth, your purpose, your very existence. What was the point of it all, you wondered, if he wasn't there to share it with you?
#nhl imagine#nhl#nhl fic#nhl fanfiction#hockey#nhl oneshot#hockey fic#andrei svechnikov#andrei svechnikov x reader#andrei svechnikov imagine#andrei svechnikov fic#andrei svechnikov moodboard#andrei svechnikov smut#carolina hurricanes#carolina hurricanes x you
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How about an allsan au where almoat everyman he meets absolutely fumbles for him when they spend only 5 minutes with him, he ofcourse is oblivious (hes not even bi in denial he's just stupid)
It starts ofcourse with zoro seeing him hold up a marine by the throat, Gin and Luffy being given food out of kindness and nothing else, Ace, crocodile being impressed by the mr prince tricks and so on so on
Also lots of men flirt with him on island but are quickly chased away by a glare and a sword to the throat or a guy wrapping around the pretty boy demanding food (or the good old possessive hat placement)
You decide the end couple but the whole of blue fumble for Sanji fr fr
Give this man all the simps.
Zoro choking on his drink as watches Sanji lift a marine by the throat which makes Usopp and Nami giggle at him. Gin falling for him as he eats the best food he's ever had in his whole fucking life that's keeping him from starving to death. Luffy falls in love with the way he talks about the All Blue and cares about his job and others. He's so fucking kind.
Ace falls for the guy who takes care of the others and doesn't let guests work, who spoils the handful of a little brother he has. Sir Crocodile who thinks the blond is cute and clever, who set up chances for his captain to save the crew and then him. Koza who sees how well he's taken care of his princess and the help he's given to take back Alabasta. He still insists on helping to serve and cook and Cobra is giving Koza knowing looks that make him flush and avert his eyes from the king and the cook.
Maybe it's after the time skip, after Dressrosa when Barto is literally drooling over the 'ONLY ALIVE' poster that Law is flustered and asking Luffy and Zoro about the cook. They're staring at him as Robin is giggling to herself because they are possessive. Both of them. It's the Monster Trio. Sanji is oblivious. Both of them are grumbling about Sanji not seeing their obvious interest but it's Sanji. If someone doesn't hit him over the head with a four by four he's not going to take the hint. Ask all of Tashigi's men from Punk Hazard who were crying at the cook not taking their advances. Okay maybe he just needs to be beaten with said four by four. Pedro straight up sacrifices himself for Sanji and Sanji only feels bad he's dead and that his life ended coming to get him.
You got the rest of the North Blue Boys who are obsessing over Stealth Black and Law feels like throwing up if it wouldn't insult the cook, he's so fucking excited. Luffy is over the fucking moon to see it in action. Yamato looking at Sanji from across the party and Luffy asks him what's up and he's just like Law with the whole 'the cook' thing. MARCO KNOWS better, he knows how to make an impression so at one point he's just talking to Sanji and Sanji keeps looking between Marco and whatever he thinks he needs to be doing so Marco just lightly grabs Sanji's chin and says it's rude to not focus on the person you're talking with. Sanji is so red and stuttering as Luffy wraps a rubber arm around Sanji screaming for meat as Sanji is ripped from in front of Marco to like the other side of the room.
Maybe it would end with zolusan or whatever the ship is called. Zoro asks if they have to do what Marco did after all the flirting he and Luffy have been doing for all of their sailing together and Sanji just being confused at what they're talking about.
#black leg sanji#monkey d. luffy#roronoa zoro#trafalgar law#portgas d ace#vinsmoke sanji#answers#zoro roronoa#straw hat luffy#phoenix marco#marco the phoenix#yamato#gin one piece#trafalgar d water law#x drake#basil hawkins#zosanlu#zolusan#monster trio#allsan#zosan#sanzo#lusan#sanlu
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Silent Treatment
Word count: 941
Warnings: angst, lack of communication within a relationship, that's about it? Anyways silent treatment is bad communicate with those you love this is purely for fiction purposes don't do this in real relationships.
An: wrote this on my freewrite for a word sprint whole heavily sick on the couch (still am🤧) so if there are any major spelling or formatting errors blame my Samsung and the tumblr app.
Pairing: Simon Riley x Fem!Reader
If there's one thing Simon Riley can't stand it's the silent treatment.
He's used to anger. Knows it well and knows his own. Something nasty and rotten that boils inside of him, festering until he can extract it from his veins through the catharsis of violence under the command of his captain or splitting his knuckles open in an empty gym late in the night.
A man who spent his childhood fed insults and violence at the hand of his father has no qualms with a belly full of rage.
But oh, your silence all but starves him.
It isn't passive aggressive avoidance. There's no tight lipped smile as you insist everything is fine when the truth is standing before you both, because that'd give him plausible deniability. There'd still be that surface level communication no matter how empty it rang.
You offer him something so much worse.
Absolutely nothing.
At first, he's content to roll his eyes and let you stew. You want to act like a petulant little child? Fine by him. You can't beat Ghost at a game of solitude, he'll win every fucking time, sweetheart.
But then you slip by him in the hall, turning your shoulder to avoid his own brawny frame when before you would reach your hand out by just a millimeter so your fingertips would graze his own if only for a second.
By Christ, you might as well have backhanded him.
It makes him feel something ugly knotted deep in his chest. His body begins to itch down to the very bone when days past and you've yet to speak or for fuck's sake acknowledge him in anyway.
It's stupid and immature and childish.
YOU are stupid and immature and childish.
He's content to simply sit in his own silence and be done with it. He's left men and women for less than a passive aggressive attempt at an apology.
But while you slide into your stoic silence like a hot bath after an exhausting day, Simon singes his skin down to the bone on his.
Perhaps it's ironic. That a man called "Ghost" is so uncomfortable with his own silence being gifted back to him that he turns to mild annoyances to gain a reaction from you.
Knocking your shoulder as you pass by one another, looming over you to grab something off of a shelf, entirely invading your personal space when it's unnecessary to press his body to yours in some hope of a twitch, a sigh, anything for you to show him that you're still in there aside from a closed mouth and empty eyes.
He'll find himself scratching at his scalp until the skin is raw and his fingers are tinted red.
Scream at him. Insult him. Hit him. Use him. All that is familiar territory.
Anything but silence.
When you return back to your apartment and find the entire place overwhelmed with the stench of cigarettes, he hopes it's the catalyst. That was your cardinal rule afterall, no smoking inside. One he could only get away with after he's fucked you to exhaustion and you're too comfortable to lift your head from his chest to scold him for indulging his self-destrictive habits in your own bed.
The pack is three quarters finished by the time you get home, the fag between his fingers is all but crushed flat as he watches you slip off your shoes and take soft steps towards him until you stand between his knees.
A myriad of comments sit behind his teeth, ready to be spit in your face. Wanting to ask if youre done with your childish charade and gotten it all out of your system, or maybe you've finally cracked because youre so lonely you can't help but come to him for a proper fuck because nobody will make you feel like he does.
But he says none of it. Simon Riley simply waits, and stares at you with tired eyes like a discarded shelter dog.
"I'm tired, Simon."
Your voice, my God had he missed it so much, sounds almost raw to his ears. A rasp to it that makes him wonder if you'd been crying.
Beneath the guilt, a sick part of him, just big enough to whisper above his conscience, feels a satisfaction in knowing he matters enough for you to shed tears in his name.
"I know."
"I don't like this. I don't like feeling like-" your words die in your throat as your face begins to scrunch up, forcing the whine in the back of your mouth to halt so you can uphold the facade of strength and resilience you told yourself you would on the car ride over here.
But then you look down and see the tired eyes of the man you don't know what to call to you and feel yourself wanting nothing more than to crumble in his arms.
“I know.”
A scarred hand gently grasps your thigh, slowly guiding you closer until you fold into his lap. Your own hands rise to cup his face, savoring the way he leans into your touch.
"We can't keep doing this."
"I know."
Despite his lack of words, you hear him perfectly.
You know he'll say sorry. He knows you'll say it as well. He'll tell you he's going to try and you'll accept it.
He knows he'll fuck it up again. As do you.
But now, as you tuck your face into the crook of his shoulder and pretend to not feel him shake and tremble in your arms, he vows to himself to make sure he never drives you to silence again.
#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost x reader#this is dogshit you guys but it's just a word sprint#also sort of a character study? idk#a peek into this mans brain whole also being heavily theraputic writing for meself
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would love a blurb based off of my boy only breaks his favorite toys & guilty as sin for nico hischier!
"he was my best friend" & "without ever touching his skin, how can i be guilty as sin?" | poetic prompts | warnings:
it had been ages since you'd last seen nico. the past three summers that he's come back to his homeland to see family, you were always the opposite direction. it wasn't a bad thing, though. you had left things with nico rocky and unresolved, and before it could get better he left the country for the nhl and wouldn't come back for another ten months. but now, this summer, he's coming back and you're in town. for once, you'd be in the same neighborhood as him. and now you can't avoid how messy you left things, and how awkward it's going to be.
"how do you feel?" your friend asked, knowing that nico was coming into town this week. she knew- hell, your whole friend group knew what it was like. the tension, animosity, but also all of the fun you had together. "do you think you'll talk about it?"
you sighed, "i don't know. he was my best friend, and he got scared when i told him i loved him." sitting next to your friend in the coffee shop you began to talk about things from the past, bringing up old memories and old drama from your friend group over four years ago.
you'd been in contact with him of course, keeping up with him across the sea, the occasional late night/early morning phone call to catch up. texting him when he was in the news, congratulating him on wins. it was nice to stay in contact with him, but you still had an underlying sense of anxiety and tension with nico, that you hadn't figured out how to move around yet.
"but, i'll admit to you, i've been thinking about him a lot." you drift off in the middle of the sentence, as you begin to think about how much you thought of nico on a daily basis. it didn't occur to you until now just how much you thought of nico. you thought of hugging him again, or even just touching him in general. seeing his eyes in person again, smelling his cologne, hearing his voice.
"you're so guilty, y/n! you're down bad for a guy you haven't seen in so long. make that make sense." your friend teases.
i just landed. i really want to see and talk with you, can we grab dinner?
sent 5:50 pm
speak of the devil. you take a second to respond, before finishing your conversation with your friend. secretly, you hope he felt the same way you did. not riddled with anxiety of course, but you hoped he wanted to make things right with you. get on the same page, start over together.
"without ever touching him, how can i be guilty as sin though?" you share a laugh with your friend and finish the conversation.
i'd love that. need a ride from the airport?
sent 5:56 pm
definitely. see you in a few ❤️
sent 5:58 pm
#j's writing#nico hischier#nico hischier imagine#nico hischier x reader#nhl imagine#nhl x reader#hockey imagine#hockey x reader#this sucks i still haven't figured out how to write for nico yet
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oooh what about a lil blurb about bombshell r and spencer where it's the first time in their relationship that one of them is super sick and the other has to take care of them?? if you're feeling up for it ofc!! love u jade <333
ty for requesting<3<3 fem, 1k
“I’m sicker than a sick dog. I’m half cough.”
Spencer frowns at his phone where it lays on speaker at the breakfast table. “You are? What kind of cough?”
“It’s awful, I can’t tell you. You’ll stop loving me.”
Spencer smiles even though he wants to grimace. He told you he loved you a few days ago, and you hadn’t said it back, but you certainly hadn’t stopped liking him. You’re more obsessed with him than before, he’d argue. It’s a great feeling, almost as good as an I love you in return would’ve been.
(He doesn’t blame you for not saying it. You’ve been officially dating for less than a month. He shouldn’t have said it, only he’d been lying in your bed about to go to sleep with your hand in his and he’d never felt anything like it, not home but safe, not home but comfortable, and so so wanted.)
“I don’t think that’s true,” Spencer says.
“I’m gonna order some soup I think. What are you gonna do today?” Your voice is thick like you can’t breathe through your nose, but still yours.
“I’m gonna put my shoes on and come see you, I guess.”
“Yeah?”
It’s a no brainier. “What soup do you want, Y/N?”
He says your name like a compliment. You laugh down the line, which turns into a cough, and a pained moan. “Any kind of soup, babe. You’re really gonna come and see me?”
“Someone has to take care of you. Ideally me.”
“Too right.”
When Spencer gets to your apartment thirty rushed minutes later, you’re already worse. He knocks on your door and you answer with a hand covering your face, your breath audibly shallow. “I forgot that being sick makes you ugly.”
Spencer takes your wrist in his hand kindly. “Nothing can make you ugly. Come on, let me see.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I!”
You aren’t pretty, you’re stunning. You’re gorgeous. You’ve been the most beautiful woman Spencer’s ever seen since the moment he saw you, not just because of your looks, of which you take great care, but because of your heart, how kind you’d been to him and continue to be. Your confident personality has never once made you cruel. He couldn’t say the same for most people, so you could have snot running down your lips and a zit the size of Quantico on your forehead and he’d still think you were the most amazing thing he’d ever seen.
“Come on,” he says again, “I know you’re still beautiful.”
You let him pull your hand down, unveiling your puffy eyes and chapped nose. “I don’t know how I got sick so fast.”
The tote bag he’d brought with him slips into his elbow and pulls down his sweater sleeve as he grabs your shoulder. “You said you looked ugly.”
“I do!”
“All you do is lie.” He gives you a small smile. Am I doing this flirting thing right?
“I wanna kiss you so bad.”
Your audible heartbreak is convincing. “I’ll still kiss you.” His desperation is even more evident than yours. “I’d love to kiss you.” Even if it’s usually you who kisses him.
You close your eyes and lean in for a kiss at the same time. Just one kiss, firm for a millisecond, no parting lips or tongue to be seen but just as good a kiss as any other. Spencer must’ve had about thirty of them now, yet a kiss from you never feels real.
“I’ll look after you if you get sick,” you promise, pulling away.
He was counting on it. He hates germs, hates being sick, but he loves you. Whatever happens is out of his hands.
You seem a little unsteady on your feet, now Spencer’s looking at you. You’re wearing loose white pyjamas with blue flowers, and on your feet you have a pair of shoes somewhere between slippers and boots, brown fabric with fluffy white insides he’s seen you sporting on the jet from time to time when you’re at your most achingly tired.
You look adorable and tipping. He eases out of his shoes, sliding the bag of tinned soup, crackers and about seventy dollars worth of cold medicine onto the sideboard so he can put his hand under your arm.
“Let’s go back to bed,” he says, wrapping you in a supportive hug.
“Forward,” you tease.
You shouldn’t. Spencer thinks about intimacy with you and goes insanely pink everytime, though you’re far from new to one another. He especially doesn’t wanna think about it as you cross your room and flop down into bed with a tired sigh. “Come lay down?”
“I’m wearing jeans.”
“Did you sit down on the subway?”
“No, I drove here.”
“Come on, Spence. Your germs are fine.” You smile at the ceiling as he sits down at the top of your bed. “You drove here? You hate driving.”
“It was quickest.”
You drop your head into his lap. Your breathing is laboured.
“You okay?” he asks you.
“Just missed you.”
“I brought you some stuff. Vapour rub and decongestant spray, painkillers, vitamins, everything.” He leans down as he wraps his arms over your front, a promise to look after you. “Try to take a deep breath, angel,” he advises sympathetically. “You sound really out of breath.”
“Too much standing up.”
“Standing up can be good for you when you’re sick. It stops you from getting idle diseases and bed sores, and walking is even better for you if you can manage it, it helps unclog your sinuses.” He finishes his fact, and he looks down at you all poorly in his lap, remembering very quickly how lucky he is to have found someone who listens. You didn’t interrupt. You wouldn’t have even thought about it, he’s sure. “But no more standing up or walking around. I’m gonna get you anything you need. You’ll be better in no time.”
You give him your own grateful smile. “Thank you.” You scrunch up your nose.
“Are you gonna sneeze? I got balsam tissues.” The damage to your nose has already been done. “Do you have any chapstick? We’ll rub some on your nose to stop it from getting any drier.”
Your wrinkled nose worsens. “Thank you for coming to look after me,” you say weakly.
He wants to say you’re his best friend in the whole world, but you’re more than that now. “You’re welcome,” he says quietly, ducking down to plant a kiss near your eyebrow. “I always want to look after you. This is just the first time you’ve let me.”
You smile contentedly, your voice falling to a whisper. “Will you tell me you love me again?”
Spencer doesn’t think he’s in any position to deny you. “I love you,” he says truthfully. “Thank you for letting me come over.”
You turn your face into his arm. “Thank you for wanting to, handsome.”
#spencer and bombshell reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds
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seeing how some greens act like rhaenyra being groomed by her uncle, and subsequently being unable to let go of him, is HER personal failure turned me into a rhaenyra extremist when i simply enjoyed her character beforehand.
im really glad you're speaking about it because even though it's fiction, it still perpetuates a very dangerous rhetoric
wait this gives me an excuse to ramble, pls excuse me if i phrase things maybe a little crassly here, it’s a delicate topic i’m speaking indelicately about but also, i think i should be allowed bc [redacted] BUT-
obviously i don’t like, love, some of the changes to the show but i think the first half does a great job of setting it up to where you can see both alicent and rhaenyra are surrounded exclusively by much older men who want to fuck them, and have just no way of knowing who is being genuine with them. because no one is really! so you have episode 4, where alicent is sleeping in a room with pornographic art on the wall and being called to her husband’s bed and she can’t say no, and he’s not going to do anything to make the whole thing even marginally easier for her. and then you have rhaenyra, pulled from her bed by her uncle to a brothel, and she’s completely exposed, and she’s experiencing new things, and he’s purposefully trying to make this feel good but also overwhelming for her, then abandons her drunk & confused & half naked. this is The Same Thing - they’re both being used and manipulated by a much older man, but because that manipulation looks different, they react different. but it’s still manipulation.
yes, the type of abuse is different when it’s like, your ugly ancient grandpa grooming you vs a handsome 30 year old stranger you met online that you tell all your high school friends is your boyfriend, but ultimately, both the grandpa and the 30 year old boyfriend are abusers but more importantly, the granddaughter and the high schooler are both victims!!! i think a lot of people when analyzing this whole thing, will pin daemon as a groomer but then completely forget that this also makes rhaenyra a victim. some people will even hee hee haw haw over it because “oh your feminist icon would rather marry her groomer uncle than her gay cousin in the book” DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF. could it possibly be that rhaenyra prefers daemon to laenor because daemon has manipulated her into thinking she is only free with him? she is only safe with him?? could it possibly be that he has been giving her gifts and taking physical liberties with her for her whole life, and being the Good Cop, Sweet Confidant to her parents Bad Cop her whole life, that she feels taken in by him because he is all she knows???? in the same vein that alicent just swallows all the poison and bullshit from otto because that’s her father, and his protection is all she knows????
honestly part of like ~the discourse~ that’s most frustrating is that most greens just refuse to see rhaenyra’s pov or see that she’s also a grooming victim grasping for power to protect her own children, again just like alicent, but on the flip side, most of the analysis from the blacks side is like “if you think nyra is a victim of grooming you are just as bad as the people calling her a whore for having children out of wedlock” and like, how do you even engage with that. with either of those opinions. you can’t wksjd so if youre, ya know, like a normal fucking person who can see how both girls are being manipulated, but you have like a fondness for nyra specifically, it’s just constant bad takes. there’s nowhere to go to escape the bad takes.
i thought we had already hashed out this idea that being aware or unaware of your victimhood doesn’t suddenly mean you’re not being oppressed during the main show with arya and sansa but no, we’ve actually just taken this exact same annoying fandom discourse about which teenage girl is dealing with being abused in the most acceptable way and made it a thousand times worse.
#and like the ~analysis~ side will be like ‘nyra is a dumb bitch for trusting daemon’ but if you said that about ali and larys you’d get shot#and i’m not even exaggerating the way people talk about her it’s always this ‘she should have known better’ HOW#if u get that ali couldn’t have ever known better when it comes to her own kids. why does this not apply to nyra.#perhaps………….it is bc you cannot concieve of her as anything but the aggressor.#asks#anons
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~Her man child~
Headcanons 📺
Vox is the definition of a manchild and I think it's kinda obvious.
He's the mean kind, acting with so much spite, sometimes without it being necessary or justified.
He NEEDS to be taken seriously. He tries so hard, blurring the lines between respect, fear and tolerance.
But when you two are alone... the telly-head man is a whiny boy.
He complains like it's a form of art. You can't help but roll your eyes playfully when he lets out a too loud sigh, but after doing so you're always ready to give him all the reassurance and attention he desperately craves.
Your man prefers being the little spoon. He's like a lap cat.
If anyone finds out about his cuddly nature, he's gonna die a second time...
Vox feels the need to constantly prove himself to Velvette and Valentino, but with you he feels safe. He can be overly emotional. And weak. And needy.
Very needy.
If you're not somewhere behind the camera admiring him and boosting his confidence, his day is ruined.
Grumpy, grumpy, grumpy.
In the mornings he doesn't even turn on his screen... settling for the protection setting instead.
You have to be patient with him.
Bring him a steaming cup of coffee and hug him from behind and he might as well start giggling like a schoolgirl.
He's too sensitive for harsh jokes. Being in Hell means ONLY dark and cruel humour, but Vox can't take it sometimes.
His ego is fragile.
In order to feel loved, Vox has to be showered in extravagant compliments on a daily basis. Whether it's about his appearance, his job, his amazing and very interesting personality... He needs them.
When you tell him he's better than the radio demon.... he literally gets rock hard.
Vox is in a constant dilemma between showing you off for all Pentagram City to know you're his, or keeping you secret.
It's the same as a boy with his favourite toy. If other kids see his toy, he's gonna have to share.
What if someone steals his favourite toy?! Or even worse... BREAK IT?!
That being said, he doesn't objectify you, but he's terrible at showing affection or appreciation.
He's gonna be there for you, help you with anything you need, laugh with you, spend quality time with you. Still, deep communication is a difficult subject for him.
Thank god you're observant enough to catch all the messages he tries to pass to you.
Such an attention seeker though.
Have you ever seen a six year old trying to impress his crush?
Just look at Vox trying to woo you. It's the same thing.
But he's not that bad... His self-esteem is an obstacle alright, but he becomes a rug for you to step on and use as you wish most of the time.
Vox would definitely go out of his way if you asked something from him. You're his rock. It's the least he can do.
The guy even whimpers in his sleep.
Vox loves to fill his hands with your thighs when it's bed time. They're warm and soothing to him, like stress toys. Being a walking television has its disadvantages temperature wise.
He would bend you over and take you in front of a mirror so he could see himself while at it, but he hasn't done so yet. He wants to ask you beforehand and make sure it won't make you feel weird.
Vox is easy to rile up. A breathy compliment and a squeeze of his thigh and he's more than ready to go.
He doesn't actually feel dominant, but he tries to act like it. This Vee member has the stereotype man = dominance engraved in his subconsciousness and so he fights to live up to it.
But between you and me... Treat him like an inexperienced and innocent boy and he'll be crying out in pleasure.
Aka... be a femdom. Even a soft one. You won't even have to try that much.
Another thing. Vox is loud. (Like his name implies 🫣)
He also pants a lot. Almost like he's hyperventilating.
Unlike Alastor, this man is very insecure about both his performance and... size.
I'm not saying he's lacking in either though. It's just how his mind works. Always comparing himself to his opponents and in this case, his opponents are other men that could perhaps satisfy you more thoroughly than him.
Allow me to say that he fucks in an anxious way. Hands shaking and his mantra "Does that feel good to you darling?"
You just need to praise him a little. (A lot)
He doesn't last that long but he'll be sure to rub your clit so you don't either.
When it gets too real, he tears up at the end, like a baby that's holding back from crying. But you're there to hold him until he calms down.
He's usually too tired (and still nervous) afterwards for proper aftercare. Vox likes to be babied though. It's more personal attention after all.
Oh to be cleaned up and tucked to bed! Only then will he feel comfortable enough to run his fingers through your hair and mumble a faint thank you.
Vox's head has a bit of an awkward shape for cunnilingus. However, he has a surprisingly long tongue that can reach more than enough to have you moaning out how good of a boy he's being.
He usually cums in his pants while eating you out.
And when you return the favour it's usually to relieve his stress at work. He feels like a teenager when you do it. It's an act of service, really.
He low-key fucks your face, not enough to choke you but you do gag around him. It makes him feel in control. It makes him feel like a man.
To sum up, Vox is a bit dependent on you and on your validation, but he would never hurt you or become too overbearing.
He's needy, but not stupid.
He is the definition of a manchild and I think I proved my point.
But he's your manchild sis!
Support a struggling university student! Thank you so so much🫶 CLICK HERE (PayPal link)
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my masterlist || Hazbin Hotel masterlist 🦷
Vox divider by @rubra-wav
Support divider by @cafekitsune
The explicit content one... I don't remember :(
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#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel headcanon#hc#hazbin hotel hc#vivziepop#hazbin hotel headcanons#the vees#vox#vox x reader#vox x you#vox hazbin hotel#vox hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin vox#vox headcanons#vox smut#vox x alastor#radiostatic#fem!reader#not s f w 💀#valentino hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel velvette#hazbin valentino#hazbin velvette#hazbin vees#smut#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor hazbin#vox x valentino
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dialogue 7 trope 8 with tchouameni pls. so happy that ppl are finally writing for him 🥹❤️
- "ooohh you wanna kiss me sooo bad."
- Bodyguard au
happy to write for him! he needs more love enjooyyyy
word count - 800+
watch it - flirty tch and weapon mentioned like once enjoyy
You know you're not a very stereotypical bodyguard. Shorter than most, no rippling muscles that tear shirts apart. It does give you the advantage of surprise. No one expects you. Even more so for the man you've been tasked to protect.
You know they hired you specifically to blend in and so you do. Still keeping close but you look like you could be anything from a part of the crowd to a friend and whatever more. You've seen yourself on a few gossip pages and on news articles here and there.
They have yet to put the pieces together and you want to keep it that way. You have a job to do and a man to protect. A man that for the life of you you can't understand.
He's an enigma on a good day. Aurélien keeps a curious eye on you, eager to watch you. But yet so hesitant.
He doesn't talk to you all that much, but when he does he manages to squeeze playful words in between each sentence. Always catching you off guard. He goes from being honed in and focused to letting his shoulders loose in a laugh.
Today seems like no exception. You wait in the wings backstage of an event. It's just a rehearsal for the actual thing yet you're here. Its empty save for stage screws running about with wires and microphones tangled on the floor.
You stand arms crossed a few feet away from where Aurélien is being fitted with different wires and what not. He speaks, arms waving lazily and nodding along to whatever his agent is saying. You haven't talked to him today yet.
He spots you soon enough, giving you a wave while you respond with a curt nod. He gets shown to where you stand, told to “hang out” here for a second while they adjust the lighting.
“Didn't know they dragged you here too?” he says, hands resting inside the pockets of his jacket.
“I have a job to do.” you shrug.
“Does it even get boring? Being around the same person all the time. I know I get tired.”
Your expression remains neutral, though a spark of amusement flickers in your eyes. "Perhaps," you hum, "But that doesn't change the fact that I'm here to protect you, whether you like it or not."
He grins, gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before turning back to watch the lights cycle through the different settings. "Well, in that case, I suppose I'll just have to make your job as interesting as possible," he says with a lazy shrug.
You roll your eyes, but cant help the small smile that tugs at your lips. "I have no doubt you will," you reply dryly
Aurélien gives you a playful smirk before leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "You know," he says, amusement dancing in his eyes, "sometimes I wonder if all this protection is just an excuse to be close to me."
You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed by his attempt at flirting. "Don't flatter yourself," you retort, though you can't stop the smile that seems between your words. He's bold today.
Leave it to Aurélien to find a way to wiggle into your personal space and under your skin with his words so early in the day. And you have so many more hours left with him. How thrilling.
He chuckles softly, leaning even closer until his breath brushes against your ear. "Oh, come on," he murmurs, "we both know deep down, you wanna kiss me sooo bad."
You can't help but laugh, shaking your head at his shameless antics. "You wish," you reply, giving him a playful shove before straightening up, feeling the waistband of your pants for your weapon. Old habits die hard you suppose.
Aurélien grins, the playful glint returning to his eyes as he steps back, resuming his role in the rehearsal.
You don't know what game he really plays. If his words really hold any meaning. If you should listen. So you choose the safe route and brush them off and try to do your job. Even if he insists on making it near impossible.
He sends you knowing looks from the other side of the backstage area. Ones you know would easily strike up talk. But you can't talk your eyes off him. Partly because of your job and partly due to him being so- what's the word- dazzling.
You do want to kiss him, but he doesn't need to know that. Not now at least.
For now you watch him do his thing while you try to do your job and push away his voice from ringing in your ears over and over.
we both know deep down
#bahr footy#aurelien tchouameni x reader#tchouameni x reader#tchouaméni x reader#tchouameni#aurelien tchouameni#bahr 300 event#aurélien x reader#aurélien x you#aurelien x reader#YAY#footballer fic#football fanfic#footy fic
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