#and he himself clearly cares about them!!

[heartateasee]

“Safe”

mafia!harry x you

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: mentions of a break-in and violence (talks of being bound, and a slap) & talks of death (inflicting death on others)

Plot: While Harry was out of town on business, your home was broken in to, leaving you with some injuries. When Harry comes home to see the state you’re in, he’s beside himself, and he steals you away to his lake house so you can be alone together.

❈❈❈❈

“Where is she?” You heard Harry’s voice from downstairs, and you immediately sat up a little more on the side of your bed. You clutched the mug of warm tea in your still trembling hands - a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

“She’s upstairs in your bedroom, but Harry-”

You could hear that Harry’s right-hand man, Elias, was attempting to keep him from coming up the stairs right away, and that he wanted to explain things further, but Harry cut him off.

“Get out of my way, Elias. I need to see her.”

“I understand that, but I need you to listen to me for just a second before you do.”

You flinched as you felt a hand stroking your hair off your face, and you looked over to see the doctor, who Harry always had tending to you if you were sick, standing there. She must’ve come back from the bathroom already like she said, but you hadn’t heard her. You were too focused on your boyfriend’s voice.

“The swelling should go down in a couple of days,” you heard the doctor say, who’s name was completely escaping you right now. She tilted your head to the side a bit, and you watched as her eyebrows narrowed. “There’s already some bruising, but I don’t think it’ll get much worse, if at all.”

Closing your eyes tight, flashbacks of what happened just about an hour ago bled their way back to the forefront of your mind. The back of the hand that forced its way across your cheek. The forcefulness at which your hands were tied behind your back with zip ties. 

Your throat was raw from your screaming, although your mouth was soon duck taped after they realized you weren’t going to stop - no matter what threats they had thrown your way.

The memory of Elias forcing his way into the room was burned into your brain, and once he had taken care of the men who had harmed you, and threatened you, you watched his face soften once he looked at you.

“Y/N,” he whispered, not wasting any more time as he rushed over to you. Turning you on your side from where you were laid on the floor, he got his knife out to rid you of the zip ties, and then he carefully pulled the duck tape from your mouth. “Where else did they hurt you?”

His eyes were focused on your cheek that you knew was already showing signs of violence, but you shook your head.

“Nowhere,” your voice rasped as you answered him. “It’s just my cheek.”

You were drawn out of the horrific flashbacks as you heard Harry’s voice booming downstairs - growing louder. “Where the fuck were my men?!”

“They killed them!” You heard Elias yell back, clearly sick of Harry’s attitude at the moment. “Listen to me…they got in. They killed all seven of the men you had standing guard, and we got lucky because I was coming to check on her like you asked me to. If I hadn’t…”

It was silent after that, and it wasn’t too long that you heard a deep sob. You closed your eyes again as your bottom lip started to wobble. There had only been a handful of times that you had seen Harry cry, and you hated when he did. You wanted nothing more than for Elias to let him upstairs to see you so you could hold him.

“Please just-” Harry choked out, pausing for a moment, and you could tell he was trying to get himself together. “Please just tell me that she’s okay.”

“She’s okay,” Elias’ voice was now soft as he responded. “She is hurt, but it could’ve been a lot worse. Her face, and her wrists. They’re bruised.”

More silence followed until you heard a large crashing, and you knew it was coming from the living room area. You jumped - almost spilling your tea at the sudden sound. Another loud crash caused you to flinch, remembering those same sounds happening just moments ago, but not at the hands of Harry.

“Fuck!” His voice echoed off the walls, and you set your tea down on your nightstand.

You needed to go to him. You needed to show him you were okay.

“Slowly,” the doctor whispered next to you as she started to help you off the bed once she could tell you were trying to stand.

The blanket dropped from your shoulders - leaving you in one of Harry’s large t-shirts, and some wool socks on your feet. When the doctor showed and asked if you wanted to change out of the dress you had been wearing when you got home, the one you had worn to work, you immediately grabbed Harry's things. You wanted to feel close to him.

Helping you carefully down the steps, the doctor remained by your side until you reached the foyer, and from there your movement had caught Elias’ attention. He held his hand out for you, which you took without question, and the doctor took that as her sign to go ahead and leave for the night. She had already told you earlier that she was only a phone call away if you needed anything else.

Elias led you into the living room, Harry’s back to you as he stood in front of the bar cart. You could see he was downing a glass of whisky, and he wasted no time in filling it right back up.

“Harry,” Elias said as the two of you stood in the middle of the room, and you watched as Harry shook his head.

“I don’t want to hear anyone else’s goddamn voice tonight unless it’s my-”

Harry stopped talking once he turned around and saw you standing there, and he froze. His eyes trailed down your body - looking for injuries, and they darkened once they got to your face.

“I’ll leave you two for the evening,” Elias said as he released your hand, but not before giving it a small squeeze. “I’m just a phone call away, if needed. That goes for the both of you.”

Tearing your eyes away from Harry, you looked to Elias and gave him a nod. “Thank you. For everything.”

Elias returned your nod, pulling you in quickly for a hug - pressing a kiss against the crown of your head. Once he released you, he exited the house.

Now it was just you and Harry inside, and you weren’t sure how many new guards he had standing outside.

You continued to stare at each other for a moment before Harry turned around to face the bar cart again, and you swallowed harshly. 

You walked forward and gently placed your hand on his back - slowly lowering your head to rest your forehead between his shoulder blades.

“Harry,” you whispered, and you felt his body tense at the condition of your voice. “I’m okay. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” Harry shook his head, placing his glass down as he clutched the sides of the cart. “If I had been here, or if I had just taken you with me, none of this would’ve happened. And you begged me to take you, but I didn’t listen.”

“I didn’t beg you to take me because I thought this was going to happen. I begged because I missed you, so please don’t put that on yourself,” you told him, but he was quickly moving away from you.

You dropped your hands by your side as you watched him, tears forming in your eyes. 

Maybe this was it. Maybe this is the time he realized that your relationship isn’t worth all of this. That you’re not worth all of this.

“Alright,” you said, mostly talking out loud to yourself as you nodded. “I’m going to go pack a bag.”

You didn’t even make it to the staircase before you felt Harry’s hands cupping the outsides of your arms, and he carefully turned you around. “Y/N,” you looked up to see tears of his own in his eyes. “I don’t want you to leave.”

Slowly, he lifted his hand to brush the back of his fingers against your tender cheek - not enough pressure applied to have it hurt you. He then grazed his thumb over the split in the corner of your mouth before looking down to your wrists.

He lifted them in his large hands, and brought each one to his mouth - pressing kisses against your bruises.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he shut his eyes tight, tears slipping down his cheeks. “I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N.”

Shaking your head, you went to pull your wrists away to cup Harry’s face in your hands, but you didn’t have the chance to as he fell to his knees. He wrapped his arms around your waist as he buried his face into your stomach. “I promise you that this will never happen again.”

Streams of tears now flooded down your cheeks as you ran your fingers through Harry’s hair, feeling him sob against your torso. You then wrapped your forearms around his neck, and cradled his head in your hands as you leaned down to rest your cheek against the top of it.

“I know, Harry,” you spoke softly to try and keep him as calm as possible, sniffing as you tried to force your tears back. “But it’s okay. I’m safe, and now you’re here. You’re home with me, and that’s all that matters.”

You hadn’t noticed the state of the house until you quickly flicked your eyes around the living room, and you knew these damages weren’t just from Harry when he got home. They had destroyed your home in the process of trying to destroy you. Trying to destroy him.

Harry looked up at you, and you sent him a gentle smile as you pushed stray curls off of his forehead. “How about we go to the lake house?” He asked, licking over his bottom lip. “I don’t want to stay here tonight, and I’m sure you don’t either. I’ll have someone come in and clean this all up so that when we come back, it’ll be like nothing ever happened. How does that sound, my love?”

You nodded at him, and you held his forearms as he picked himself up off the ground. “I would like that very much.”

Harry took your hand in his as he guided the both of you back up the stairs, and he was quick to pull a large suitcase out of the closet for the two of you to share. “Pack however much you want. We’ll stay however long you want to.”

Moving around the room, you packed several pairs of pajamas, a couple of bikinis and some light sundresses. You packed two pairs of sandals and your slippers, and then you smiled over at him as he packed his own things.

Neither of you bothered with toiletries, knowing you had everything you needed in that aspect already at the lake house. 

It was late, and it was going to be at least a two hour drive to get there, but Harry didn’t care. He wanted to get you away from all this for however long you needed. 

He’d have men cover for him while away, Elias being the main one. He trusted him, even now more than ever after what he did for you. Harry knew that he could handle taking over for a few days, or even weeks.

Pulling his phone out, Harry made a phone call to have a couple of security guys follow you on the way to the lake house, and they’d remain there during your time together to keep watch over everything. 

“Ready, honey?” You asked him once he was off the phone, trailing your fingertips over the back of one of his hands before taking it between both of your own.

“Ready.”

❈❈❈❈

You and Harry had been at the lake house for four days now, and you were feeling much better about everything. Your wrists were fully healed, and the bruising on your cheek was starting to fade completely.

Harry was still acting a bit distant, but not physically, at least. He held you close at night, and was right by your side around the house, but emotionally, he had changed. You knew he was still blaming himself for what happened back at home - no matter how many times you told him that he shouldn’t.

So today, as you stood in the kitchen, cleaning up your dishes from lunch, your eyes were set on Harry through the window above the sink as he stood on the back porch. He was on a phone call, one of the many he’s taken while being here, and you knew he was probably speaking with Elias.

You finished up the dishes, and you pulled the sliding door open to join him - your bare feet meeting the warm wooden porch. You weren’t sure if Harry heard you coming out as he continued his conversation without hesitance.

“Elias, I’m telling you right now,” Harry’s voice was low, and firm as he spoke. “I don’t give a fuck how many men we have to send. We’ve found him, and I want him, and anyone else involved in the terror they put my girl through, dead. Is that clear enough for you?”

You halted your footsteps upon hearing his demand, and you took a minute to truly process what you heard. You knew what Harry did. He tried to keep most of it a secret from you for a while, but one of your biggest fights ever was you threatening to leave if he wasn’t completely honest with you.

That occurred about six months into your relationship, and he came clean about everything - laid it all out on the table. He made it clear when he did that if you wanted to still leave now that you knew who he truly was, he wouldn’t stop you. But you didn’t.

You loved each other, and you were sure he was the love of your life.

But now, even two years after that conversation occurred, it still shocked you sometimes to hear him asking for the death of others.

“Great, thank you,” Harry said into the phone, and even though that tone was sarcastic, it soon shifted as he spoke his next words. “And I know I haven’t told you yet, but I’m really grateful that you were able to be there for her that night. Although I wish it had been me to get to her first, if it had to be anyone else, I’m glad it was you.”

Your heart fluttered as you listened in. Harry wasn’t a man to show emotion often, even with you, but every now and then you managed to get that hard exterior of his to crack. But the fact that he was displaying his emotions to someone else, it made you happy - even if the circumstances were grim.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s not get too sappy, alright?” Harry responded playfully to whatever Elias said, and it caused you to smile. “Stay safe, and we’ll talk soon.”

As Harry ended the call, he let out a hefty sigh before turning around - pausing as he saw you.

“Hi,” he cleared his throat, slipping his phone into his pocket. “How much of that did you hear?”

“A good amount,” you shrugged, not wanting to lie to him. “So you found him?”

Harry nodded as he walked forward, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes lingered on your cheek, just as they had several moments a day throughout your time here, before he met your eyes.

“We did. And we’ll be taking care of it.”

A chill ran through your spine at his words, and as much as you knew that hearing them should scare you - you weren’t scared at all. Not around Harry. Never around Harry.

“Okay,” you lifted your hands to rest on his chest. You stroked your thumbs against his skin through the material of the t-shirt he had on. He had been dressing casual since you had been here, something you weren’t used to, but you loved it. “Do you want to go for a swim? We haven’t gone yet.”

You could see the contemplation in Harry’s eyes, and just when you thought he was about to deny you, a smile pushed onto his lips. “A swim sounds nice. Did you pack your pink bikini? The one with the white hearts.”

Your stomach swirled, and you giggled. “I did. I’m guessing you’d like for me to wear that one?”

“Only if you want to, Y/N, but I do particularly love that one.”

“Then I’ll wear it,” you pressed onto your tiptoes to let your lips gently brush over his. “Just for you.”

Pulling away, you leave him stunned on the porch, and you smirked to yourself as you entered the bedroom of the house. Just that small interaction had you feeling like things were getting back to normal for the two of you.

You grabbed the much wanted bathing suit from the suitcase before slipping into the en-suite to change. After a moment, you heard Harry rummaging around in the bedroom, and you knew he was changing into his swim trunks. Once you had the bottoms on, and the top around your neck, you exited the en-suite and turned around once you were next to him.

“Can you tie this for me, please?” You asked sweetly, moving all of your hair over your shoulder to give him proper access.

Harry’s fingertips skated up your back before you felt him tying a secure knot against your spine. Once he was finished, he leaned down to press a kiss against your bare shoulder. “So pretty, and soft. I can’t believe you’re all mine.”

“Yours,” you whispered as you turned around - wrapping your arms around his neck. “Always all yours, and only yours.”

After separating and gathering the rest of the supplies needed for your time down at the lake, you and Harry started down the pathway that started right off the back porch. Sunglasses were perched on both of your noses, and your fingers were interlocked as your feet crunched against the rocks.

It wasn’t too hot today, but it was hot enough where the water would be a relief, and you wouldn’t get too cold once you got out. 

Once you made it down to the edge of the lake, you and Harry spread your towels out over the rocks, and you pulled a t-shirt of his that you used as a cover-up over your head. You tossed it down onto your towel along with your sunglasses before looking over to Harry.

“I’ll race you,” you winked, and you watched his eyebrows raise from behind his sunglasses.

He was quick to remove his own eyewear, and shirt as well, before the two of you turned to face the lake.

“On three,” you stated with a nod. “One, two-”

Before you even said three, you jetted off towards the water, and you heard Harry’s voice calling from behind you.

“You cheater!” He exclaimed as you ran through the shallow part of the lake, looking over your shoulder to see him closing in on you quickly. “Oh, you’re in for it, love.”

You squealed as you tried to tread through the water faster, but it was no use, and you soon felt his muscular, and inked, arms capturing your waist. Giggles flooded from your lungs as he lifted you out of the water, and he moved one arm down to carry your bridal style as he went out further.

Soon you found yourselves in the deepest part of the lake, and you skillfully shifted yourself around to where your legs were around his torso - one of your hands on his shoulder while the other ran through the back of his curls.

The sun was gleaming against his emerald eyes so perfectly, and you could already see freckles on his shoulders that were usually hidden coming to life just from the small amount of rays kissing his skin. He was perfect. He was your everything, and you knew you could never be without him.

“You know I love you more than anything, right?” Harry asked, and you nodded.

“I do, and I love you all the same,” you leaned down to place a delicate kiss against his lips, but as you pulled away, you felt Harry’s hand against the back of your neck to keep you close to his face - your foreheads almost touching.

“I’m never going to let anyone touch you again, do you understand? Never again,” his gaze was hard as he stared at you, but it’s because he wanted you to know that he was serious. “You’re always going to be safe with me, and I promise you that.”

“I know, honey,” you nodded, moving your hand from his shoulder to grip to the back of his neck as well, and you inched your head forward so your foreheads were now touching, but you kept holding his eyes.

“You’ll keep me safe. Forever.”

❈❈❈❈

Just a little blurb for you all on this Sunday evening. Let me know if you guys would be interested in seeing more of these two! I fear I’m attached to them already 🤭

❈❈❈❈

Taglist: @daydreamingofmatilda @prettygurl-2009 @ghoststyles @lillefroe @gem1712 @lemoncrushh (if you’d like to be added to my taglist, please send me a DM!)

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry edward styles #harry styles writing #harry styles ff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry fanfic #harry styles fiction #harrystyles #harry #harryedwardstyles #harry styles fan fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry x you #harry x y/n #harry x reader #mafia!harry #mafia!harry styles #mafia!harrystyles #mafiarry

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; gn!reader + piss kink

you love following toji around the house while talking his ears off. he's making his coffee and you're drinking, telling him about the book you've been reading. he's watching the tv and you're curled on his lap, whispering fun facts about the movie that's playing on the screen. he's doing pushups and you're laying down beside him, counting his reps for him (you mess up the numbers just to have him roll his eyes at you with a smirk.)

whatever room he's in – you're there. he can't get rid of you but it's not like he even wants that. he likes the attention, he loves how much you want his. and he loves listening you, so he really doesn't mind. he thinks of you like a little kitten, jogging after him the second he pushes himself off the couch. it's sweet.

until—

he marches into the bathroom and you're right on his heel, rambling about your day. toji looks at you through the mirror, curious as to when you're going to realize that you're now in the bathroom with him. but he doesn't say anything other than a little raspy "yeah?" at whatever you just said.

he stands in front of the toilet and raises the lid while watching you plop down onto the counter right next to him without a care in the world. he raises a brow, his scarred lip quirking up into a sly smirk.

your eyes are on him. you're smiling, too.

you know exactly what you're doing.

toji's hands unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants, all while keeping eye-contact. he wants to see how far you're willing to go.

you don't stop talking; cocking your head to the side and leaning forward, you tempt him. he doesn't miss the way your thighs press together and the way you bite down on your lip. you're not smooth at all. that only makes him love you even more – you're just as nasty as he is.

it's getting harder and harder to keep your eyes on his now though... he has pulled down his pants and underwear and you wanna look at it. your sentences are drawn out, your words are starting to mix up.

"c'mon, keep going."

you wanna hate how smug he is. how cocky, how arrogant. but you can't, because the only thing you can think about right now is taking his fat cock balls deep down your throat. your lips part at the thought and toji groans under his breath.

sweetly fluttering your eyelashes at him, you continue mumbling about your day. you can't surpress the hum that crawls up from the depths of your stomach when you finally hear the steady stream of piss hitting the toilet bowl.

you break eye-contact and his chest swells with pride. he can hear your breath hitch, he can almost see your mouth salivate.

"well, aren't you a little pervert, hm?"

your gazes meet again and he expects you to pout at him like you usually do, but no – not this time. lips curling up in a syrupy, sugary way, you purr at him. "ya love it."

toji growls. you're trying to kill him, surely. your eyes are low but still as playful as ever, your thighs pressing together even harder to relieve the growing need between them.

his eyebrows raise when you suddenly jump off the counter and take your place right beside him. eyes glued to his, you blindly reach for his hardening cock. tugging at the nape of his neck with your free hand, you pull him down and press your lips against his. you feel him grin, you feel him twitch in your hand.

he's so warm and he's so big; you give him a few slow, lazy strokes before tucking him back inside his underwear. he tries to pull away from the kiss, clearly a little confused by your actions, but you don't let him.

you nip at his bottom lip and he groans into your mouth. you give his now clothed bulge two very light taps and then you're the one that's pulling away, leaving him chasing after you.

giving him a giggle, you back up and jump back onto the counter. he can't believe you – you really are a little minx, sitting pretty before him while he's now hard and needy with new, hot ideas flooding his mind.

he wants to know what other dirty things you're thinking about, what other fucked up things you'll do for him. what he'll do for you.

— you're in for a long, long night.

#jayce ily<33 #hehehehehehhehehehee #how much more do i have to talk abt piss for you guys to hate me #toji #wtf mickey can write #toji smut #toji x reader #toji x you #toji drabble #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #tw piss #jjk smut #jjk x reader

[ceruark]

general yandere headcanons - ratio, boothill, aventurine, sunday

notes: gn! reader. yandere! ratio, boothill, aventurine, sunday [separate] cw: general yandere themes - obsessive & possessive behavior, stalking, abduction, manipulation, blackmail, brainwashing words: 2250 a/n: one of these is longer than the others. can you tell i have a favorite?

VERITAS believes genius comes in many forms, and you exhibit some traits that could qualify you as being one. Whether or not you're a scholar, your ability to listen intently, ponder things deeply, and uphold meaningful conversation captured his attention and landed you in his favor. He thinks highly of you, and finds himself eagerly awaiting the next time he can poke your brain about some complex topic you feel like you aren’t equipped to comment on, but do so anyway at his insistence.

His obsession with you isn't apparent at first, not even to him. He tells himself it's simply in a scholar's nature to learn more about the things that intrigue them, and you're not special just because he seeks out information on you wherever he can. His research ends up paying off when he finds out that you desire more than the quaint life you've made for yourself, and he personally extends you an invitation to Veritas Prime.

When you accept, he insists that you attend as many of his lectures as humanly possible. Even if it doesn't align with what you're studying, he convinces you to show up anyway, fabricating some argument for how it will be useful for you in the future. Normally he'd be irritated with himself for giving a lackluster lecture, but he can hardly blame himself for being distracted when he has your undivided attention for hours on end. He's addicted to it, the way your eyes lock with his, the way you hang on to every word leaving his mouth.

Not that any of this is obvious to you. No, from your perspective, he's harsh and critical, always undermining your intelligence by insisting you need additional lectures and overseeing your studies himself. Obviously, he doesn't put much faith in your competency and thinks you'll fail unless you're being handheld the entire way. He may not outright insult you the way he does with others, but his "special treatment" is enough to make you feel insecure in your own abilities.

And that insecurity is a weak point he unapologetically exploits. When he feels like he hasn't seen enough of you lately, all it takes is a few bad marks from him to have you at his side, seeking out guidance and ways to improve. The worst is when he catches you spending too much time (which is any time at all) with those insignificant simpletons you call your friends. Clearly, you have too much time on your hands. Certainly you can assist him with his latest project, no? Well, if you'd rather slack off and lose all the progress you've made so far, that's fine, too.

You'll never know what his true intentions are until he's already involved in or controlling every aspect of your life, and at that point, you can't risk upsetting him. Your future success is contingent on how content you can keep him, and in this new phase of your relationship, you hardly know how to do that.

Better get to researching.

Threat Level: 3/5 Pet Names: darling, dear/dearest

BOOTHILL loves to make you laugh— it's the thing that drew him to you. He'll do anything to keep your attention on him, not caring how much of a fool he looks so long as you keep those gorgeous eyes on him. But beneath all the flirtation and humor is a deep desperation; he can't lose you, not after everything he's already lost. He stays on your home planet for as long as he can, but he has things to take care of, so he can't stick around forever.

To be fair, he tries. He makes the first few trips alone, leaving you behind to live your life— and every minute is agony. He doesn't know what you're doing, who you're with, or if you're safe. He's glued to his phone, constantly checking the news to make sure no tragedy has struck your home planet or the cozy town you reside in. Every night he wakes up from a nightmare, the sounds of bombs ringing in his ears and the illusion of your corpse still hovering before his eyes.

The next time he visits you, he takes you. You're coming with him— you don't have a choice. He can't live without you by his side, but he can't stay in one place, either. You can fight him all you want, but he's relentless, and his fear builds up into a frustration that causes him to be a little harsh. You're weak, vulnerable, and you can't be expected to protect yourself, so he has to. When he calms down, he tries to convince you that it won't be so bad. You'll get to travel the endless galaxy with the man you'd been so taken with just a few days ago. What more could you ask for?

Trying to escape him is futile. He's probably the easiest one on this list to get away from, but don't let that get to your head: he'll be hot on your trail, so you better hope those few days away from him are worth it in the end.

But with time you'll learn there is some truth to his words; if you don't try to leave him and keep him happy, then maybe you can trick yourself into believing that this is a life you chose for yourself.

Threat Level: 3.5/5 Pet Names: beau, gorgeous, sugar

AVENTURINE is like a moth to a flame, and your capacity for intimacy is the match. You're the first person in recent memory who treats him as a person, not as a commodity or a body, a wallet or another cog in the machine. Your first interaction was fleeting, but it replays in his mind every time he closes his eyes.

He watches you for some time, learning you inside and out— partially to satisfy his desire to know more about you, but mostly for leverage. He memorizes your schedule and interests, and subpoenas documents to learn more sensitive information, such as your medical history and anything pertaining to your family. He remembers everyone you interact with, making note of who's on the sidelines and who's part of your inner circle. He sees the way you openly bare your heart to them, keeping them comforted by its warmth, and he wants it all for himself. Hasn't he been denied something so pure for long enough?

He's charming in the beginning, using one of his many masks to slither his way into your mind and heart. He showers you with compliments and gifts, leaving you flustered after every single meeting. He knows exactly what you like, so it's easy to keep you fixated on him.

When you two finally make things official, he lures you into the palm of his hand. Your rent unexpectedly went up? No worries, he can start covering that for you— it's no trouble for him, really. Someone important to you had an unexpected health issue and can't cover the bill? He's got it, anything to cause you less stress. Is he sure it's okay? Of course it is. He only wants to see you happy.

When your friends start dropping like flies and even your family starts to distance themselves for you, he's by your side through the turmoil. Fate has been so cruel to the both of you, hasn't it? It's okay, he's here for you. He's not going anywhere.

By the time you catch on to his manipulation and realize he's behind your isolation from your friends and family, it's too late. You're too dependent on him, and he knows everything about you and anyone still sticking by you. Do you dare bite the hand that feeds you? Will you try to escape? Can you afford to pay the price if it all goes wrong?

What will you wager to get yourself back in his good graces?

It’s unwise to try your luck against his. Play along, and perhaps he'll show you the face that you fell for.

Threat Level: 4/5 Pet Names: babe, doll, sweetheart

SUNDAY takes notice of you because of your carefree nature. Being so trapped in his own head about the fate of Penacony and humanity as a whole, he's captivated by the way you seem unconcerned with matters larger than yourself. While you do plan for the future and have aspirations of your own, you still manage to live in the moment and take things one day at a time, possessing a liveliness he's never quite seen before, never been allowed to have himself.

He knows about you long before you ever meet him. Nightingales line every path you walk, sticking to the shadows and noting everything about you: the places you frequent, the food you like, the type of clothes you buy, your colleagues, your route home, and the little habits you have that he finds so endearing.

When he finally appears before you, you're starstruck— how could you not be? The head of the Oak Family is seated beside you at Dreamjolt Holstery, making small talk about your day and your life and your interests when he could be speaking to any of the other high-profile guests at the bar. You're flustered from the honor of having his undivided attention, and the butterflies in your stomach only worsen when he asks if it would be possible to keep in contact with you. Of course, you give him your number, and your impromptu meeting turns into another, and from there, into more.

He's so earnest in his adoration for you that you never notice how off-putting it is that he seems to already know what you like. Surely it's just a coincidence that he takes you out to all your favorite places and gifts you things that you'd been spending months saving up to buy yourself. It's nothing more than fate that you seem to bump into him at the oddest of times, on your way back home from a night out on the town, or during the day while you're heading out to meet with one of your friends.

It's only when you agree to a relationship that you start to get concerned. Describing his behavior as "clingy" would be putting it lightly; he tries to have you by his side in any way he can, talking you into attending a party with him or asking you to sit in his office at his side while he gets through paperwork. When you go anywhere without him, he's ordering a member of the Bloodhound Family to accompany you. He seems so distressed at the mere thought of you not being by his side, nevermind the thought of you being out in public by yourself— it's not healthy for either of you. Before you can even think to voice your concerns to him, he's wrapping his arms around you and reminding you that he just worries about you. The Family has many enemies, and they would be willing to use you to get to him. He just wants to make sure you're safe.

When Robin goes missing, things take a turn for the worse. He moves you into Dewlight Pavilion, and you don't get a say in the matter. If he's home, you're by his side at all times. Anything you have to tend to at this point can be done from within the comfort of the estate, and in his presence. Even if he's not there, he might as well be; the nightingales and their pervasive gaze are out in the open now, watching as you aimlessly wander the pavilion, getting lost in the maze and growing a little more desperate each time you explore your new home. You move through the mansion with an urgency, like you're searching for something.

Like you're trying to leave.

When Sunday's suffocating protection inevitably gets to you and you try to confront him, he gives you one more chance to see things his way on your own. It's a miscalculation on his end; you snap again, only this time, you manage to find an exit. You make it back to Golden Hour, but by the time you get there, there's already a group of Bloodhounds waiting to catch you and drag you back.

When you're shoved into his office, he's standing with his back to you, hands clasped behind his back. You can hear the heartbreak, the betrayal in his voice as he tells you how hurt he is that you'd endanger yourself after everything he's done for you. Out of guilt or fear, you can't tell, but you apologize and swear to him that you won't do it again.

And you won't— he'll make sure of it. Under the light of the Harmony, all is revealed: his undying love for you, your reciprocation, and the strength of his will over yours. You see it now, don't you? Everything he does is for your wellbeing. Clipping your wings while you're on the ground is just a way to ensure you'll never fall out of the sky. You're safe here, in this gilded cage he's tailored your tastes, with a kind keeper to tend to your every need and shower you with all the affection your heart could ever desire. How could you fault him for that?

You can't. After all, you don’t even remember why you were upset with him in the first place.

Threat Level: 5/5 Pet Names: angel, dear/dearest, dove

#got a little carried away with sunday's #also had more fun with ratio's than i expected #tsundere yanderes are a different kind of awful #yandere hsr x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #yandere hsr x you #yandere x reader #yandere ratio #yandere boothill #yandere aventurine #yandere sunday #hsr x reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail x reader #hsr ratio #hsr boothill #hsr aventurine #hsr sunday #ceru.writes #ceru.yan

[violetasteracademic]

The bonus chapter that ended Nessian

This is honestly really surprising to me. Apparently there are people out there that think Nesta and Cassian are going to end up together. Have they not read their bonus chapter? SJM effectively ended them.

First of all, the way they think about each other is not romantic at all:

Cassian has no idea where he stands with her, and as you can see, he is so unhealthily obsessed with Nesta that he can't stop thinking about her and literally rushed to interact with her even though she doesn't even like him and is mean to him! If Sarah wanted this be be romantic, she could have made totally different choices. We could have learned they shared secret touches or looks, have their fingers trembling or breath catching around each other. But no, just confusion and unhealthy obsession on Cassian's part. Honestly, he kinda seems like an incel here.

Worse than that, it's clear he obviously only lusts after her:

He literally has not said one thing about her personality! He's just weirdly obsessed with her boobs and her scent and is just thinking about her stroking him. If we were supposed to have gleaned he has real feelings for her, and not just lust, couldn't Sarah have added something more sweet and personal here? I don't know. Maybe he could have brought her a thoughtful present that shows how much he sees and understands her when no one else does. But no. He just wants to get laid and touch her boobs. Honestly, ugh.

And let's not even get started about the Mor thing!

Cassian slept with Mor because he was jealous of Azriel! And if you recall, in ACOMAF Morrigan said Cassian just wants what he can't have and it has driven Cassian crazy for centuries that Mor never wanted him again after they slept together once. Rhys confirms this too.

Nesta clearly is not interested in Cassian. In fact, she knees him in the balls right after this. Honestly? This actually seems like a really toxic perpetuation of the Mor situation. Cassian yet again wants what he can't have, and it is actually in the canon text that he has this problem. Also, notice that he's ashamed of this situation and embarrassed to tell Mor about it? That's not a very good setup for a romance. He should have the full support of his friends and family in order for Nessian to work.

He calls himself stupid, he knows it's wrong, he just doesn't care for a moment because of the lust. Again, Nesta knees him in the balls. Not interested. Take a hint you creepy incel! And even though he was fully planning on devouring her lips, he is clearly not anymore!

But here's the real nail in the coffin:

Nesta forbids him from coming back. She threatens that she'll scream if he does and she is only willing to work with and talk to anyone but him. How is he supposed to get around that? How is their relationship supposed to develop if he is forbidden from talking to her and seeing her? I just don't understand how this is supposed to resolve in the books. At least hundreds, if not a few thousand of the tens or hundreds of thousands of SJM readers have read this bonus chapter. There's no way to come back from this.

Also- did you notice in ACOFAS Nessian's same drama is still playing out, but SJM interestingly enough introduces a character named Emerie and they have a scene together? Seems like SJM is clearly telling us Nessian isn't happening and setting up a new love interest for Cassian. Based on their limited interactions, it's actually really obvious to me that they are a much better fit and there is already a ton of foreshadowing that they are endgame. In fact, I think they are mates!

I swear this has nothing to do with the fact that I dislike Nesta. I mean, do I dislike her, and do I think Cassian deserves better? Yeah. But that's not relevant here. What's relevant is text and foreshadowing and the fact that I don't like Nesta and think Cassian deserves better because I've self inserted myself into Sarah's writing and want her to do what I want and I don't want Archeron sisters I don't like winding up with a bat boy I love.

Wait no... Ignore that second part I didn't mean to type that out.

#elriel #pro elriel #just being silly #i actually love all the sisters and bat boys this is just satire! #elriel endgame #elriel month 2024

[billwidoll]

The connection between us

____________________

Rafe Cameron has never been a fan of love. He always thought it was all a joke, he always kept his heart cold and his body active. He had relationships with girls, but it was only physical And Rafe didn't know why he was like this, maybe because he was never loved by any woman and he felt this way.

Most women were in relationships with Rafe for his money and Rafe was no fool and knew it or maybe it was because he was just good looking. But anyway, Rafe hated this marriage thing, Of couples and of love. He wanted it far away from him. Until one day...

Whezzie, Rafe's younger sister, asked her brother to take her to the cinema to watch the new Barbie movie. Rafe hated it, but his sister was the only thing he tolerated.

"let's watch the movie and then go home, you understand" Rafe speaks authoritatively, holding whezzie's hand, in the queue for movie tickets.

"it's cool Rafe!" Whezzie says, rolling his eyes at his brother.

Approaching the ticket box, Rafe saw the employee who was at the counter selling tickets. And it made Rafe see true female beauty. He noticed the way you smiled, the color tone of your hair, your bright and penetrating eyes, your sweet and soft voice, your angelic skin. He simply saw the goddess next to him.

"I'm sorry, but can you hear me?" He hears your velvety voice, directed at him.

He was so mesmerized, he didn't even notice you were talking to him.

"ah...and...my bad, I got lost in your eyes.." Rafe speaks without realizing what he had said and you give him a confused face

"no, no, no, that's not what I meant, what I meant and what I lost in my thoughts"

Rafe speaks finally justifying himself and you give a smile

"no, It's okay, this happens to me sometimes"

You speak, trying to soften this strange situation between you and this man you've never seen in your life.

"let's go Rafe! Buy the damn tickets" Whezzie says, clearly irritated by the whole situation, and Rafe takes a deep breath to keep from yelling at her.

"I want two tickets to the Barbie movie"

Rafe says, lowering his head so he doesn't meet your eyes again and be mesmerized. Rafe takes out his wallet and gives you the money for the tickets.

"his daughter?" You ask smiling at whezzie, you were already preparing the tickets .

Rafe didn't know why he loved hearing your voice again and directed at him..

"no, not her, just my younger sister" Rafe says, smiling at you and playing with whezzie's hair

"well...she's beautiful! Here are your tickets" you say, giving them both a huge smile, and Rafe's wish at that moment was to stick that smile to his forehead

"Thank you... Y/N" Rafe says seeing the name on a badge that was glued to his work uniform.

When you give Rafe the tickets, he and whezzie continue on their way to the cinema

"what was this?!" Whezzie asks, surprised by all the dialogue Rafe had with that strange girl

"shut up" Rafe speaks harshly to the girl and she rolls her eyes

Two weeks later

"You have to get married, Rafe! You're already a 24-year-old man, you need to start your family!"

Ward speaks angrily and authoritatively to Rafe

"and dad, I know, and yes, I'm 24 years old and I decide whether I'm going to get married or not!"

Rafe speaks in the same tone as Ward, and Ward is angry at Rafe's reactivation.

"and the name of the family that I created, in your hands! You will inherit the company, meaning you will own this family! And you need to at least have a girlfriend!!"

Ward says pointing his finger at Rafe

"they....they are difficult dad....they just care about my money" Rafe speaks, speaking more quietly and Ward simply laughs at his son's confession

"so what? Your mother married me, it wasn't because of any love but for my money"

Ward speaks, making Rafe more angry and frustrated. Rafe needed to find a girlfriend quickly, and he would go after Y/N, the one and only, to make him feel strong admiration.

And so Rafe did. He waited for you at night, behind the cinema area, to just try to have a conversation with you. And as incredible as it seemed to him, he was nervous, his hands weren't They stopped sweating, And he was biting his nails because of the anxiety. But anyway, Rafe saw you leaving through the back doors of the cinema. And he approaches you

"oh hi! Remember me?" Rafe speaks with a friendly smile so you don't have to be afraid of that strange situation

"Ah, yes. You are that beautiful little girl's older brother, am I right?"

You speak a little spitefully because it was just the two of you in that place, and it was also night and it would probably rain in less than an hour

"yes! Yes, despite that, I'm Rafe" Rafe says, raising his hand to shake and you accept

Rafe didn't say his last name, because he was afraid that if you heard the word "Cameron" you would probably stay with him because of the money, so he decided to test

"well... Rafe... I'm still trying to understand, what do you want from me?" You say crossing your arms and looking deeply at Rafe

"Would you mind going out with me? I... just admired you at that counter"

Rafe speaks with a bit of a stutter, so you decide to let your guard down and try to sympathize with him.

"well...I accept, I just don't expect you to be some kind of psychopath" you say making this joke and you both end up laughing

"good... so can you give me your number, so we can arrange a meeting?" Rafe says, approaching you and smelling that sweet perfume

"okay" you say, taking a pen from your bag and pulling Rafe's palm, that's where you would sign the number

Rafe liked that, he liked your attitude, as a woman.

To be continued?

#dark rafe cameron #drew starkey #drew starkey smut #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron headcanons #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron outer banks #rafecore #obx rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron moodboard #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron thoughts #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe fic #rafe imagine #rafe smut #rafe x reader #rafe x you

[justalittleficsideblog]

Your fics of the obey me boys protecting mc from a creep are so amazing!!

If it's okay, could you write a similar one for Barb and Sol please?<3

anon I see you’ve been sitting in my inbox for a millennia, but I feel like I’ve finally now can write this fic! Barbatos in my mind is a bit unhinged, so like TW for those undertones! This went on longer than I intended, I hope you enjoy !

Barbatos

I could see this happening in the later hours of a ball that his king decided to host, caught unawares with a human he decided to invite had inevitably gotten lost in his crowd.

Considering that your usual guard dogs were preoccupied with their official business, Barbatos took it upon himself to keep a keen eye on you as you made your introductions.

Some of the demons lingered longer than necessary, but the majority quickly moved on due to the presence of the brothers all together somewhere in the room. Despite that, one particular demon cozied up to you a bit more than he found himself caring for.

“That’s very flattering thank you, but I think I’ve had plenty this evening,” you waved your hand towards the demon, gesturing politely in refusal of his offer to a drink.

You weren’t stupid, taking drinks from strangers in the human world was hardly safe, the devildom was no exception.

The demons mouth curved down slightly on the side, but he quickly recovered as he sauntered closer to you. Your back now against the pillar, your eyes scanned the crowd for an escape.

“Those brothers must be boring such a thing like you.” An elongated finger dragged lazily along your temple as he pushed a stray hair out of your face.

“The brothers are wonderful, now if you’d excuse me—“ you grimaced as the demon side stepped your attempt to skirt around him. Now pushed farther back, your irritation was plain across your face.

“C’mon. Hear me out here—“

“I do believe the lady has kindly rejected you multiple times.”

The snarl startled you, a familiar back facing you as Barbatos stepped in between you and the demon. He held a serving tray in his arm, the other arm was across his chest as he politely angled his body towards the male in front of him.

His tail gently urged you to his left, its length curling protectively around your frame.

The formerly mentioned demon scoffed, clearly irritated about the kings servent interrupting him.

“Listen Barbatos,” the demon grabbed a wad of somthing from his lined pocket, placing it discreetly in his hand. “Look the other way with the kings pet, and keep this between us.”

The chill that descended the ballroom was near paralyzing.

You didn’t dare breathe.

“Out of respect for Diavolo,” Barbatos spat, rising to his full height, his back shifting into a lethal calm. “I will not cause a scene because of this disgusting conversation. You must be unwell, considering your intellect is so skewed that you believed I could be bought out for such an act.”

The demon tensed, his foot sliding back slightly.

You’d never seen Barbatos so eerily calm. He could be unnerving in his role, but the aura he was giving off was that of a predator.

“Lord Diavolo will see to you later,” a swish of his wrist and the demon was transported instantly.

The rush and noise of the crowd and music came back immediately, and Barbatos turned to face you, bowing deeply.

“Are you harmed?”

“Uh… no. No not at all, thank you Barbatos.” Your hand reached out to take his out and make him rise.

You were at a loss for words, the lethality you had felt from him was gone, replaced with a relaxed atmosphere.

This guy gave you whiplash.

Extending his arm, he offered, “Come. Let’s get some fresh air.”

All you could do was nod.

Solomon

Honestly, the reason that you hadn’t encountered any suspicious demons was because this wizard watched you very closely. When he determined the brothers were around, he tended to let off.

But, anytime you were without one of them and he was around, he tended to ward off many a demon (he may had cast a sort of mirage around you if any ill-intended demons looked to long).

Deciding to have a bit of fun without the brothers, you had begged him to check out a new club scene that had opened up. All the students were talking about it! I’ll go anyway even if you aren’t with me!

Leaving you unprotected wasn’t an option, but he decided to play coy and tag along.

Solomon immediately disliked the air of the nightclub. The thick haze and skewed magic surrounding it instantly made him on edge. Seeing you so excited to be there, seeking out some friends from class, made him bite his tongue.

The crowd itself made him uneasy, some demons lingering looks made him grind his teeth as he steered you towards a booth to get a break.

“This place is kind of… dense.” He ground out.

“I think this’ll be fun! Oh! Let me go to the bathroom quick, one of the girls from our sorcery course needs some help fixing her look.”

You skirted off quickly. Solomon reassured himself it was fine, you had a trace of his magic he could track. He reached out to feel the tug, only—

There was nothing there.

————-

Having fixed up your friends hair, you made your way back to Solomon. Unfortunately you were intercepted, a large demon glancing down at you with wide eyes.

“So you’re the human they’ve been talking about.”

You attempted to move around him, huffing when the press of bodies halted you from doing so.

This demon was clearly intoxicated, his uneven gate and slight sway told you that much.

A grip on your arm made you flinch, moving quickly to detach the large hand from your bicep.

“Let me go, man.”

The demon flung his arms up in surrender. “Are you here by yourself? You know, this place is full of creatures that would—“

“I’m with my friends, now if you’ll excuse me.” You shouldered your way past him, ignoring his intimidating height. You looked around for the booth that Solomon and you were at previously.

Your heart thundered, where the hell was it?

“Are you a bit lost?” A grin split across his face as he leaned down, the smell of demonous reaching your nostrils. “I could help you find your friends…”

The look in his eyes told you something entirely different. Panic began to work its way up your chest and the noise and flickering lights made it hard to see against the crowd.

Suddenly, a heavy arm wrapped around your shoulders. Jolting from the contact, you looked up to see Solomon, staring down the demon in front of you.

“I do hope that you weren’t giving my human any trouble here.”

Realizing who was in front of him, the demon blanched, leaning back into a few others that were crowded behind him.

“N-not at all man, just trying to help them out is all.” He waved his claws in front of his face, eager to turn and part the crowd as he made his exit.

Satisfied, Solomon looked to you.

“What happened to that bracelet you always wear?”

Furrowing your brows you spoke. “What are you talking about? It’s right here—“

You grabbed your empty wrist in alarm. Shit! You must’ve undone it when you were helping your friend.

“It’s probably in the bathroom, here, let me go grab it quick!”

Solomon grabbed your shoulder and spun you in close to him.

“Forget the bracelet.”

“But that was a gift! I’m sure it was expensive.”

You saw his jaw tick. “I’ll get you another, you’re not leaving my sight after that.”

Clasping your hand in his, he made his way to the exit.

“How do you feel about takeout?”

A smile burst across your face.

“As long as you’re the one paying.”

Solomon laughed, grasping your hand a bit tighter.

#shall we date #obey me #solomon x reader #barbatos x reader #gang this took forever #I wanted a more serious vibe bc they’re just more unhinged imo #obey me x reader

[theonceandfuturequeenoftarts]

Sometimes when Harry looks at Tom, he's reminded of a lesson one of his muggle teachers gave on reptiles. Chameleons that can change their skin colour to blend into their surroundings or anoles that shed their tails to distract a predator and escape – adapting in order to survive, no matter what it takes.

Harry is himself, to a fault. He spent so long beaten down and trying to disappear so he wouldn’t draw his relatives’ ire that he now refuses to hide or apologise for who he is and what he wants. It probably helps that his wants are pretty basic – good food, good friends, a warm, comfortable place to live, someone to love him – and that he inherited the money and name to easily achieve them.

Tom, on the other hand, is so used to being smoke and mirrors and disguising what he wants and what he is in order to pretend to be what others want or need. 

He’d been unapologetically (and tyrannically) himself in his childhood, his magic giving him the power to exert his will over others. But Tom is brilliant and a quick learner, and his first interaction with Dumbledore, which he’d described late one night to Harry when the shadows hid both their faces, had proven a subtler touch might be needed.

Now, Tom reflects other peoples’ desires back at them in order to draw them in, and deflects the conversation away from himself so he never has to clearly define his own position. He doesn’t change himself, but everyone seems to believe Tom is on their side – that they’re on the same page. And because of his power and charm and good looks, everyone wants Tom on their side.

Harry has seen this happen many, many times, and he’s still in awe of how Tom affably manipulates those around him into doing what he wants. How Tom determines what someone wants, says just enough to convince them he does too without committing to anything, and twists that connection into a shape that best suits him.

In fact, the only reason Harry believes Tom actually likes him is because Tom never pretends to be what he thinks Harry wants him to be. Tom is petty and says cruel things and lets Harry see him when he’s less than perfectly put together. And Harry treasures each of Tom’s sharp edges, because he’s the only one who gets to see him as he is. He hoards each truth and preference that Tom chooses to share with him like a squirrel preparing for a long, hard winter.

The trouble comes when people talk to Harry about Tom. By virtue of association, Harry’s had to learn to deflect and prevaricate and lie, though he’s still not very good at it. He does a lot of nodding and smiling and making thoughtful “hmm” sounds as people ask him what Tom thinks of this or that. It’s easier than keeping Tom’s machinations straight in his head.

There are moments when Harry isn’t sure Tom even knows who he is at his core. He is so meticulous about his public persona that Harry doubts anyone else knows which foods Tom actually likes (given the chance, Tom would eat ice cream every day), or what he actually thinks about quidditch (he finds it unbearably dull), or what he thinks of muggles (he’ll never be fond of them due to his treatment as a child, but he doesn’t particularly care beyond that) or muggleborns (new blood is necessary for the magical world to continue, but the mages with the deepest pockets are the most bigoted and ‘traditional’) or purebloods (gullible).

And after the tenth meal of eating foods he doesn’t like, or the fifth quidditch match or ministry event or pureblood soirée in a week, or the nth political tapdance before the Wizengamot, pretending to represent everyone’s interests at once without alienating anyone – and quietly getting his own agenda voted through – Harry has to wonder how Tom stays sane. How it all seems worth it. It certainly doesn’t to Harry.

But that’s Tom. Ambitious to a fault, and willing to sacrifice almost anything in order to achieve his goals.

And whatever other people might think, Harry’s not naive. He knows there’s a chance Tom is lying to him, too. He knows it’s possible – even likely – that Tom figured out that the best way to get Harry on his side would be to give him the best illusion of the truth. Show him some darkness and Harry will believe he’s getting honesty. He’s made his peace with this and decided he’d rather give Tom the benefit of the doubt and be a fool than abandon the other man when he’d chosen to be vulnerable with Harry.

So, when Harry brings home Indian takeaway and offers Tom a bite of his rogan josh, only for Tom to casually say, “I don’t really like lamb,” Harry is fascinated and utterly thrilled.

Especially since he’d seen Tom eat lamb chops at a dinner party two weeks ago with nary a moment of hesitation or complaint.

Harry makes sure to leave plenty of the chicken tikka masala for Tom and mentally notes this new preference down. He’s collected a new fact about Tom.

He spends the rest of the meal with a silly little grin on his face.

#harry potter #tom riddle #tomarry #same timeline au #established relationship #introspective #character study (kind of) #fluff #tom's favourite ice cream flavour is rum raisin #harry judges him for it being an old person flavour #harry has no room to judge because his favourite is vanilla #because the first ice cream he ever tried was vanilla and it was the best thing he'd ever tasted

[kitthenameless]

I made this other post about the Emperor and Ansur once, but I had more things I wanted to say and couldn't quite fit in without muddying my point.

This is perhaps a bit of a reach, but this is not the first time I've found a portrayal of turning into a monster that I relate to as a chronically ill / disabled person who became ill later in life. It has nothing to do with feeling monstrous (I don't feel monstrous) or even body horror, and everything to do with how disabled people are treated by society and even those closest to us.

Obviously disabled people don't go around eating brains. We are not dangerous any more than abled people are. But becoming a mindflayer (or whatever monster) is comparable in the sense that, it can happen suddenly, and then your whole life is different, your body is not what it used to be (maybe visually, maybe the way it works or doesn't work now), and you need certain accommodations in order to thrive or even just survive. But people treat you differently now, you're not really given any help, and truthfully a lot of people would rather you just be dead. You're abandoned by society to figure out your new life and all its difficulties on your own. If you're lucky, you have some people who care enough to help you. If you're not lucky, you do the best you can in your desperation.

And that's why it feels so messed up to me that Ansur just gave up on Balduran/Emperor once he couldn't cure him. He clearly believes this is still Balduran, as shown by how he speaks to him when you meet him. So in his mind, he wasn't even trying to kill some creature that just had Balduran's memories. He was trying to kill Balduran. Who forcibly underwent a change to his body and accepted it and decided he still wanted a chance at living.

Edit to add: I'm pretty sure the Emperor even says it wasn't easy at first, so he didn't immediately embrace being a mindflayer. He came to accept it with some time, and that feels even more significant to me.

Like I said, I know becoming a mindflayer is not exactly the same as becoming disabled because mindflayers are dangerous. But also like I said, in my other post, the game shows us there are options to living ethically as a mindflayer. It's just that no one even helped the Emperor try to find them. And even so, he did his best on his own by eating criminals (which there is proof of, in a transcript).

I don't even blame him for disguising himself to the player at first. Look at how society treats freed mindflayers. Look at how the Emperor's own best friend and lover treated him. It makes perfect sense to assume we would hurt him or refuse to help him too.

Some people are so quick to forgive the companions for all the messed up things they've done because they have trauma. The Emperor has been through shit too though. He wouldn't admit to having trauma, but he was kidnapped, had his body forcibly changed, had his mind enslaved, had his lover try to kill him, had to kill his lover in self-defense, and was enslaved a second time. Sounds pretty traumatic to me.

Anyway. It's probably random to end this by talking about books, but that's what I do (literally, I also have a book blog), so. The other stories I also related to in this way were Dead Collections by Isaac Fellman (vampires) and Bored Gay Werewolf by Tony Santorella (werewolves). Maybe look 'em up, if you like that sorta thing.

#bg3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 emperor #bg3 the emperor #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 spoilers #baldurs gate 3 emperor #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #chronic illness #disability

[cerise-on-top]

Unfortunately, Tumblr glitched out again and I didn't receive your second ask either! However, I got the notification per e-mail, which is why I took a screenshot of it, hope that's alright! @houseoftitans

Price, Ghost and König with a Mercenary!Reader

Price: He understands why you’re doing this, it’s a pretty solid reason too. However, he will ask you, is it really the right thing to do? You could die at any point and your siblings would be left alone yet again. He won’t stop you, even if it’s plainly obvious you don’t really want to work that job, since money is important. Besides, it’s not like he can talk, he’s selling his own body to the military as well. But unlike you, he doesn’t have anyone waiting for him at home. You’re a competent mercenary, that much is true, but if you ever want to do something else, I’m sure he can find something for you. Hell, I know that he’d offer too. He knows plenty of positions that are a bit safer that also pay well. Maybe not as well as being a mercenary, but it’s money regardless. It would be a real shame to watch you waste away in a job you hate above all else. Once you’re close enough, he might offer to help you out financially, but it’s all up to you whether or not you accept his help. He really doesn’t mind, though.

Ghost: He understands what you’re going through, he would have done the same for his younger brother. But is this really what you want to do for the rest of your life? Or until the day you’re killed? While he won’t try to talk you out of it, it’s clearly your own business, he will hint at there being other options as well. He knows a few people who could get you in just about anywhere you want, there’s really no need to wear yourself down with this job you hate. However, if you ever were to need anything from him, regardless of whether it’s some money or just someone looking after your younger siblings for a bit, he’ll do it. He may seem rough around the edges, but he does have a soft spot for younger siblings, especially when they’re suffering. He’ll offer to find a solution together with you. After all, who would take care of your siblings once you’re gone? He doesn’t always have the time to do so either and just giving them to random people doesn’t seem like the ideal either. He’d much rather have you live above all else, and, of course, be happy while you’re at it.

König: At first it may seem like he doesn’t care at all. But that’s not particularly true, he just doesn’t know what to say. He wants to help you and be there for you, but he doesn’t want to overstep your boundaries, so he may come off as uncaring at first. He has no idea at all what you’re going through with your siblings, he’s an only child himself and his parents are off well enough, so he doesn’t really have many worries, aside from the usual. But I don’t think he could even help you all that well, the military and being a mercenary is all he’s ever known. He doesn’t know very many people either since he mostly just keeps to himself, so it’s not like he could offer you a better job either. But if you ever need anything from him, he’ll do it. Doesn’t matter what it is. You need money? You need someone to take care of them? You need something else? Granted, it might seem a little bit awkward at first, but he’s being sincere when he says so. In fact, I could see him taking on a few extra jobs himself just so he could help you provide money. He’s good enough at his job, plus you seem like you could use a small break from it all.

#cod #cod x reader #john price #john price x reader #price x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #könig #konig #könig x reader #konig x reader #sorry these are so short I didn't know what to write ^^; #also I don't write fem readers anymore! just so you know in the future!

[neet-elite]

↳ EVENT 16. Alex SDV (Dry Humping)

Pairing: Alex / F!Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 2,388 Warnings: dry humping, established relationship, ab riding, public Prompt(s): 09 — dry humping Event Masterlist: CLICK HERE!!

A/N: alex my beloved </3 i feel like he's not written enough, including by me. he's just so precious though ughh i wanna dote on him forever n ever, so ty for giving me this opportunity !! i hope you enjoy <3

One of the best benefits that comes from living on the farm with you is the extra room he gets all to himself, separated from the rest of the place, secluded behind the admittedly large house in privacy. Sure, he had his own room back at his grandparents house too; but it was nothing like this! His favourite part is the little retreat you had made solely for him, an outdoor gym fashioned specifically for his own needs. It's great, even. Fucking fantastic to be able to walk outside early in the summer morning, the sun already beating down on him harsh enough to cause his shirt to suddenly go missing, sweaty back sticking to the bench under him as he lifts heavy weights above his head. This, is love.

It's perfect, in all honesty. And he couldn't ask for more, not when you've provided him such adequate space to get in all of his workouts, morning, noon, and night.

Except, as his workout continues and you still yet remain on his lap, squirming around in the heat, he has the audacity to ask for something else.

"Can you, uh... Can you get off, please?"

It's not that he's uncomfortable with you sitting there, the additional weight from your body on top of him provides an interesting challenge to his usually straight forward and routine work outs. It's just... Well, fuck, he's getting hard under you, isn't he? Sweat trickling down his toned body, muscles tight and engaged as he does his best to focus on not fucking dying by dropping the weights on his chest, and yet all he can seem to concentrate on is how his dick twitches so nicely against your clothed cunt, tenting in his pants if not for your ass sitting squarely on top, inadvertently grinding on him with his lifting movements. All he can think about is; already? You've just woke up, haven't you? And you need him already? So fucking hot to him, God.

And is request isn't so much of a complaint as it is just trying to stay safe, y'know? Wouldn't wanna accidentally hurt you if he were to drop anything. Confident that he wouldn't, but he cares too much about your safety to put you in harms way like this, despite the fact that it's your fault he's so hard right now. The summer sun surely basking you in all its warmth too, uncomfortably so, right? That's why you're wearing barely anything at all, his brows knitting together when you pout down at him so cutely that his tummy fills with butterflies. You know exactly what kinda buttons to push, don't you?

"Don't wanna." You reply simply, sharply. Stating, more like. Akin to telling him: no chance. Which is fine, really, he loves spending time with you just as much as you seem to enjoy making his life more difficult, his heart skipping a beat at the way you knowingly shuffle around on his lap, an exasperated sound escaping him in response. A moan? Probably. Though he'd be hard pressed to admit it when he's supposed to be working out. Which you can clearly see, obviously. And besides, he can't rightly fuck you in public like this, right? What if someone was to randomly show up while he's balls deep in your tight, wet, warm, little cunt. Milking himself inside of you, forcing your cute body into a tight mating press on his bench—

Fuck, he's not helping himself. Forcing his arms to push up again, letting them fall back down slow and controlled, determined to move forward with his workout in spite of your ass wiggling on his obviously rock hard cock. Cool pre tacky on his skin as your ass coaxes fat beads out, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull when you giggle sweetly down at him.

So you do know what you're doing to him. "Makin' it difficult for me, babe." He warns you, but his tone is light-hearted and full of love, ending with half laughter before he's lifting the weights again, huffing and puffing with the amount of strain and sheer focus it requires not to fuck up into your covered cunt with every bench press. But he resists, if only to make your life a little more difficult too. This, too, is love.

"I know." You beam down at him, and he's hit with a sudden realisation. He doesn't think he's ever loved anyone, or anything, as much as he does you. Especially right now, cursing you mentally over how well you know his weak spots, in love with the way your ass rides his cock so well, exactly how he likes. Despite it all, he feels lucky to have you, yknow. "Do you really want me to get off, or...?" You ask, gently digging your nails into his exposed chest, a pleasant pain that really helps convince him otherwise.

"God, no—" He ends up sighing, perish the thought. Bliss filling his lungs when you drag your nails down, leaving a pretty red streak over his abdomen, ending at his waist which you hold on to for stability. It's cute, actually, how heavily you rely on him for everything. For comfort, for stability, for getting off so early in the morning when you know damn well you have free reign to toys and pillows galore in the chilled farm house. And yet still, you decide to torture him with your pretty ass sat right atop his fat, throbbing cock. He can't say he blames you. If he had to choose between his hand or your cunt— it's not even a question. Your tight little hole wins every single time; but that's the thing—

You're not even properly riding him right now. Content enough to simply feel his outline pressed against your slit, biting down on your bottom lip so seductively that he can't help but gasp in response from how downright brazen you're being.

"Your training is paying off..." You eye him up and down suspiciously, but he knows what the underlying meaning of that look is actually trying to convey. He's given you the same one time and time again; you're fucking him with your eyes right now, aren't you? Pride swelling in his chest as you continue, blood rushing to his cock to throb against your cunt when you hum contentedly, as if just looking at his sweat soaked body gives you satisfaction. His tone is cocky when he offers you a lopsided grin.

"Yeah? Like what y'see?" He questions rhetorically, doing another rep just to show off his bulging muscles to your feasting eyes, smiling up at you when you nod your head so innocently despite straddling his covered cock. "I'd love t'show ya more later, babe. I'm almost done. Promise." He pants, placing the heavy bar back in it's home for a moments breather, though his hands still remain on the bar itself. Knuckles white from how tightly he holds it, an attempt to remain calm and collected in the face of your unbridled want for him.

But it's so hot seeing you like this, watching as you carefully crawl forward so that you're more sitting on his tensed tummy; which isn't a problem for him. He takes great pride in being strong enough for you, working tirelessly day in and day out to show you how fit and dependable he is for you. So as you take the opportunity to exploit his brief break by way of rocking your hips against his tummy slowly—really, barely noticeable! If not for how hard he stares at you with pure adoration—he feels a boost of confidence, his hands on the bar slipping a little not just from sweat, but from subtle need. Chest tight as you plant both hands there to keep yourself steady while you ride his abs, the sight of your bitten bruised smirk causing his cock to twitch some more, only he has the freedom of movement now that you're off his lap.

It takes him a moment to catch his breath, too in love with the sight of you literally humping his abs to know what to say, mind a little numb as he dumbly asks; "Havin' fun?" because of course he knows you are, he can see the wide smile you adorn, can feel the way your thighs squeeze around his ribs, your feet kicking up to reach his hips. But he just feels so frozen despite the heat, doesn't wanna disturb you too much in fear of missing out on the show of a lifetime. Pretty baby just needs to get off, don't you? Wanna hump his abs till you feel better, s'at it? A deep sigh crawling up his throat as he forces his muscles to remain engaged, a hard surface for you to feel every ridge and bump— shit, you're probably leaking all over his tummy by now, right? Those little shorts you've got on are more than likely soaked through from how long you've been sitting on him, turning his tummy all sticky with your slick. God, that turns him on so much, to just watch you have your fun while he's forced to endure the sweet sexual tension below you.

"Atta girl," He encourages you with a brief wolf whistle, gasping into the feeling of your nails once again digging into him, only he's not so stupid yet as to not pick up on the different meaning behind them this time round. Feels good, doesn't it? To have him submit under you like this, let you bully him and push him around a little, interrupting his precious workout time just so you can selfishly use him to get off. It's fine, he thinks. Because he's having fun too, allowing you to take control of the situation by hooking your feet under him, giving you more precision to rub your clit up and down his washboard abs. "C'mon, you can go a little faster, can't you? Wanna see you really enjoyin' yourself." He coos, dropping one hand from its iron hold on the bar to softly prompt you into a quicker pace. Home on your waist, manhandling you up and down his abdomen enough to help settle you into a new tempo, something more similar to when he fucks you. That should do it, right? The wide, pretty smile you wear sure make it seem like it will, the beads of sweat trickling down your face making his throat feel dry as he's made to sit and watch.

But there's pleasure in that too, right? Below, he holds all the power. God knows he could easily lift you up off of his tummy, flip you over so that you're the one laying on the bench, and fuck you so hard that they'd hear you sob his name all the way from the town centre. And he knows that you know that too, which is why it's so fucking infuriatingly sexy to him that you're testing him right now. C'mon, wanna fuck me so bad, right? he can practically hear you taunt. And he does! Fuck, he does. Lust pooling under your clothed cunt, cock aching from how hard he's begging to be buried balls deep in your pretty pussy. Wants to stretch your hole so bad, force you into fitting him in just as you're forcing him to remain still right now. They're about as painful as each other, aren't they? A shaky moan slipping past his otherwise sealed lips when you gasp his name through a pout, begging with your eyes for a little more help.

And all he does is tut in return. A simple sound, lasting no more than a second. But the look you wear upon hearing it has his shorts bulging more, a cool breeze travelling through them from how fat his cock gets. If anyone were to show up right now, they'd surely be greeted to the sight of his taut balls and pulsing cock peeking out from behind barely there clothing. And it's all your fault.

"Thought you wanted this, baby? It's okay, you can do it. I believe in you" He faux pouts up at you, mocking your frustrated attitude when all you do is huff in response, bucking your hips faster still against him, really grinding your clit down and up his abs, and all he can think about is how he wishes it was his cock instead. How he'd treat you so well if only you hadn't been so impatient, and if only you hadn't tried to exude some non-existent power over him. You wanted to fuck with him so bad? Congrats, you made your bed, now lie in it.

Still, he loves you. Loves you so much that despite his want to watch you suffer, he can't help but yearn to comfort you. So, his other hand leaves the bar to hold your waist too, eagerly helping you into humping him silly with large, rough hands. Setting the tempo himself, practically fucking you without fucking you as he helps you ride up and down, his hips matching your glides a little in an effort to pretend he's actually fucking you too. So down bad for you, can't you see? That even the act of mimicking being inside of your perfect little cunt is enough for his breathing to grow laboured, his grip of your hips tightening as he feels you shake from under his unfair hold. Perks of being your husband, he muses to himself. He knows how to get to you too.

It's not long before your staining his skin with cum, gushing all over his tummy with gasps of air, a pretty smile on your lips from how he helps you ride it out. Nice and slow, grinding your slit against him until you pat for him to stop, hearts in his eyes as he watches you collect your breath enough to calm down from the early morning orgasm.

And yet still, he's hard. Uncomfortably so, if he's honest. Bouncing behind your back in an instinctive need to be tended to, his head thrown back when you shuffle down far enough to rest your ass against it once again.

"Your turn?" You ask sweetly, as if it was ever a question.

"Please, babe."

#500 event! #sdv smut #stardew valley smut #sdv alex smut #stardew valley alex smut

[sokkastyles]

Zutara Month Day 11: "Mom and Dad are Fighting Again"

CW in the tags, and Ozai being Ozai, although just a brief mention.

They'd been arguing about some stupid thing. The color of the curtains in what used to be known as the war room. Zuko's advisors had flooded him with samples of various shades of crimson fabric, while Aang had taken it upon himself to list various new functions for what he had dubbed the "peace" room (just doesn't have the same ring to it, Sokka had muttered), when Toph had leaned over and put her hand in front of her mouth in a dramatic imitation of a whisper while she spoke in a sing-song manner in Suki's ear, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

"Mom and Dad are fighting again!"

"Toph!" Katara whirled around. "This is serious. If Zuko wants to rebrand himself as the people's firelord," she glared across the room at him as she spoke, "he can't have curtains the color of blood! A softer apple blush would look lovely here, with a bit of cream and gold, unless someone doesn't think it's manly enough of course..." she trailed off, clearly anticipating his biting comeback.

"Wow, you really are ready to move in with him, aren't you?" Toph said. "I was only joking, but man..."

Katara sputtered at that, then found her voice. "Toph! Zuko!"

Zuko didn't hear her. He stood, hearing the echo of Toph's words, spoken years ago by a much younger girl as she'd grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the open palace window adjacent to the garden where he and his sister had been playing.

"Come on," Azula had said, insistent, tugging on his sleeve, as Zuko let himself be pulled along. He always did. "Come see," she said, and her grin made him feel something open up in the pit of his stomach as his feet followed her. "Mom and dad are fighting again."

Zuko found himself halfway down an empty, sunlit corridor before he realized it, his stiff and pointed firelord shoes echoing on the marble floor. Stumbling, he reached for a latch, pushing open a floor-length window and stepping out into the garden, overgrown now, but still the same place where he and his sister had played as children.

He didn't know how long he had been there before he heard Katara behind him.

"It's beautiful out here," she said, her voice soft with reverence.

"It's not what it used to be," he said, without looking at her. It was true. They had more to do to make things look presentable than just the curtains. His father hadn't cared much for beautiful things, after Lady Ursa had left.

"Are you okay?" she asked gently, and he could feel her behind him. "Look, I'm sorry about the stupid curtains."

"You never have to apologize to me." He wanted to turn around, to reach out to her, to hold her. But he just...didn't know how to. All he could think about was his sister pulling him towards that open window.

Finally he spoke, kneeling to examine a single yellow lily that had somehow grown out of a bed of weeds, the only spot of sunshine in a sea of red. So much damned red. Katara was right, it was reminiscent of nothing short of blood, and they'd had more than enough of that, hadn't they?

"My dad," he said. "Hurt my mom. He didn't...hit her or anything. And I was too young to know, really. But he hurt her."

"Zuko, I'm so sorry," she said, nearly whispering, as if they might break some sort of fragile silence between them.

And here she was, apologizing again, for something he had done. "I just...don't want that to be us," he said, finally, turning to look at her.

"Us?" She eyed him quizzically.

Zuko looked down again, afraid that he had misread things. Of course he wasn't as bad as Toph, he didn't think Katara actually wanted to move in with him, but he had thought... "Unless there's not...an us?" He studied her expression, waiting for her to laugh, or get angry again, but she didn't.

Instead, she reached for his hand. "I'd like there to be an us," she said quietly.

"Me too," he said, entwining his fingers with her cool ones, and when he looked up at her, he saw warmth in her eyes.

#zutaramonth #zutara #zutara month 2024 #mom and dad are fighting again #my fic #domestic violence cw

[lau219]

Why Deny?

Part 18

Previous part here

**!!!Warning: mature sexual content. 18+ readers ONLY! Minors, DNI!!!**

…………………………………………………………………………….

God, she missed him.

That was the hardest part about all of this.

Not the constantly worrying about hiding her bump. Not the backaches or morning sickness. Not the fact that she still hadn’t even fully wrapped her head around the fact that she was having a baby.

No. It was that she missed Leonard like crazy, wanting nothing more than to go back to how things were between them, to be with him, to take care of him, and realizing that no matter how much she shut him out, she couldn’t get herself to stop loving him. And as time passed and that fact didn’t change, she secretly doubted that she’d ever be able to.

There was also the small but pestering problem of certain...needs. Not only had her decision to cut him off abruptly ended the sex between them, but as this pregnancy progressed, she found herself increasingly horny on what seemed to be a daily basis. As mad at Leonard as she’d been, a part of her had been seconds away from pouncing on him when they’d argued in his office the other week.

As her alarm went off on her phone for her to leave for her doctor’s appointment, Y/N stood from her chair. As she turned and reached for her coat, she felt the now familiar prodding across her lower abdomen as the baby kicked her, but this time it was slightly painful, almost seeming like the baby was intentionally tormenting her.

“Oww! You little asshole!” she said affectionately to her stomach as she looked down and placed a hand on her bump, hoping it would still the baby. She then shook her head as she spoke again.

“I think you get that from your daddy. I’ve told you about him; he’s an asshole, too.”

A moment later, the kicking stopped, and she took her hand off her stomach.

“That’s just what this world needs,” she said with warm sarcasm, “another Leonard Miller.”

When she felt a final kick, as if the baby was replying, Y/N laughed to herself as she slipped into her coat and grabbed her bag. Taking a deep breath, she fully opened her office door and walked out, trying not to think about Leonard as she headed to her appointment.

•.•.•.•.•

Leonard had heard Y/N talking as he’d walked past her office, her door slightly open. Upon listening, he realized she was talking to herself as she was moving around for her coat.

“Oww! You little asshole!” he heard her say, and the sound of her movements stopped for a moment. Then she spoke again, her tone soft and full of annoyed affection.

“I think you get that from your daddy. I’ve told you about him; he’s an asshole, too.”

He could hear the smile in her voice as she then spoke again.

“That’s just what this world needs, another Leonard Miller.”

Leonard didn’t realize he was smiling to himself. In private, Y/N clearly hadn’t shut him out as much as he thought she had, and he almost went into her office to confront her when he heard her begin to move again. He then remembered she had her appointment, and before she found him, he quickly walked away, making it into his own office before Y/N left hers.

•.•.•.•.•

Last week, she’d been set on not telling him; she was going to make him wait to find out. But now, knowing the answer herself, she found it hard to imagine keeping it from him. As she went to the front desk at the clinic to check out, she was still debating when the receptionist handed her a file folder.

“Before you leave, I just want to review a few of your documents in case anything has changed since we saw you for the first time,” the receptionist said.

“Sure, no problem,” Y/N replied as she set her purse down on the counter and the receptionist scrolled down her computer screen and began asking questions.

“Are you still at the same address on Sharpton Avenue?”

“Yes,” Y/N replied.

“And have you started any new prescriptions or over the counter stuff besides your vitamins?”

“No,” Y/N shook her head.

“And we can still send your husband all your information and records?”

Y/N’s brow immediately furrowed and she shook her head in confusion after a second of silence.

“I’m sorry, what?” she said to the receptionist.

“You’re still ok with sending everything pertaining to your appointments to your husband?” The receptionist shifted her eyes from her computer screen to Y/N.

“My husband?” Y/N finally said, still totally confused.

“Leonard Miller?” the receptionist responded. “You listed him on your HIPAA form as a designated party for sending your information.” She looked at Y/N with equal confusion for seemingly not remembering her own husband.

“When did I do that?” Y/N asked.

The receptionist turned back to her screen.

“Uhhh, it looks like we got it via fax from a business number a little over a week ago.”

“Can I see the form?” Y/N asked, the gears in her head turning as she tried to understand what was happening. When the receptionist gave her an odd look, she quickly made up a fib.

“Sorry, pregnancy brain,” she explained. “I just don’t remember filling it out, and my husband recently had a change to his work phone number and email address. I just want to make sure I remembered to put down his current information, not his old contact info.”

“Ohhhh, I see. No problem.” The receptionist’s expression returned to a relaxed one as she pressed a few clicks on her computer mouse and printed the form.

“I hate to tell you this, but that whole pregnancy brain thing only gets worse the farther along you are,” she said to Y/N with a smile as she handed her the form.

In a rush to look at the sheet of paper, Y/N just gave her an awkward forced smile in return as she took the form to the waiting area and sat down in an empty chair. As her eyes landed on it, her heart stopped briefly as she recognized Leonard’s handwriting on the form.

Beginning to process the fact that he had filled this out, Y/N glanced through each line and saw that he’d listed himself as her husband and had marked off that he should receive any and all test results for her and the baby, as well as all appointment notes for each of her visits. As she glanced at the date in the corner, she saw that he’d filled it out when she’d gone home sick the other week. As far as her signature at the bottom, it was there, although upon closer inspection, it looked a little faded. He’d obviously copied it off something else. Below her signature, she saw that someone from the clinic staff had added a handwritten note to the form, marked with an asterisk.

*Recently married. Spouse requested to be listed as patient’s emergency contact. Contact form faxed to spouse to update information.

Slowly raising her head, Y/N tried to process what she’d just discovered. She stared blankly out the large window for several minutes, before finally swallowing and looking down at the paper again.

She should have been mad at him. She should have been furious. What Leonard had done was a huge violation of her privacy, not to mention a huge violation of plenty of rules. Once again, he’d gone against what she’d wanted and interfered, and what he’d done was totally inappropriate.

And she was mad. She was furious. But that anger was quickly being overshadowed by something else as she realized what Leonard having done this meant.

He really did want this. He really was invested. She wanted to both slap him across the face and kiss him senseless. And as she once again recalled the things he’d said during their argument the other week, she felt a huge swell of emotion wash over her.

Slowly standing up, she walked back to the front desk and handed the form back to the receptionist.

“Do you need to change anything on this?” the receptionist asked her. “I can print you a new form if you need to fix his email or phone number.”

“No, looks like I put down his current info after all,” Y/N replied. “But thanks.”

•.•.•.•.•

Hearing the ding of a new message notification sound from his phone, Leonard quickly picked it up and opened his emails. Upon seeing the just received message from Y/N’s clinic regarding her appointment, his heart rate quickened, and he hesitated for just a moment before tapping on the chart note, seeing a small thumbnail of the latest ultrasound image and reading the basic details.

Chart No. 43643

Patient Name: Y/F/N Y/L/N

Singleton pregnancy

Gestational age: 20 weeks 2 days

Fetal activity present

Cardiac activity present

Fetal heartrate: 164 BPM

Fetal growth: Within normal range

Fetal sex: Male

Leonard read the last line again.

Fetal sex: Male.

Male.

It was a boy.

She was having a boy.

A huge smile spread across Leonard’s face, and he had never felt more full of pride than he did at that moment. As he read the report yet again, he couldn’t stop smiling. Damn right, it was a boy.

When he finally set his phone down, he thought about Y/N. What did she think? Was she happy? Would she, in fact, have told him the news after all?

Just then, almost as if on cue, Leonard heard the door to his office open and he looked up, his eyebrows raising slightly as he saw Y/N standing there. Saying nothing, she stepped inside and turned, closing the door behind her before turning to face him once more.

He couldn’t quite read her expression as she looked at him, but before he could try and decipher it, she walked over to him, Leonard turning to fully face her as she stopped in front of him.

“What?” he said as he looked at her.

Not answering, she tilted her head and looked back at him for just another moment, her eyes full of what seemed to be both anger and affection. But before Leonard could speak again, Y/N suddenly reached up and tightly grasped his collar in both her hands, roughly pulling him to her as she crashed her lips against his.

Obviously, it wasn’t what he was expecting, and Leonard’s eyebrows raised in surprise and he awkwardly grabbed her hips to steady himself as she pulled him against her. As her lips moved over his, he was still momentarily caught off guard, but within seconds, he was kissing her back, sliding his hands from her hips to her back and wrapping his arms around her as he now pulled her closer.

He could feel both anger and warmth in her kiss, in her body language, pressing her mouth against him a bit more forcefully than normal. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized she must have found out what he’d done, but instead of feeling bad about it, he himself got a little angry again – he wouldn’t have had to do it if she hadn’t shut him out. They were both channeling anger and love for the other, and when Y/N pulled away from his mouth and looked at him, they each gave each other a heated glare.

“Fuck me,” Y/N said to him as she held his eyes. “Fuck me right now.”

Every vein in Leonard’s body pulsed as he looked in her eyes, and the next second, his mouth was on hers again, grabbing the back of her head as she pressed against him. He hadn’t held her in months, and now, her pregnant belly was a bit of a roadblock to having her as close as he’d like, but feeling her bump against his own body was a new experience that immediately made him swell with pride again. Placing a hand on her stomach, he affectionately glided his palm over her bump before then sliding his hand around to her bottom and more aggressively squeezing her ass. Still gripping his collar, Y/N backed up, pulling Leonard with her as her butt met the edge of his desk, his hand releasing her cheek and curling under her thigh instead as he helped her up onto the desktop, blindly shoving things out of the way, his coffee mug shattering on the floor as it fell from the desk.

Quickly parting her legs, Y/N moaned as Leonard stepped between them, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her to the edge of the desk before gliding his hands under her skirt and pushing it up her thighs. Y/N then released his collar and pressed her palms to his chest instead, before slipping a hand up to curl around his neck as she lowered her mouth from his and began kissing his throat. Her hand at the back of his neck toyed with his hair, tugging it and scratching at his scalp. Leonard finished shoving her skirt up to her waist and then found the hem of her panties, which were actually more like high-waisted shorts, the waistband sitting about halfway up her bump. He pulled away from her slightly, her lips losing contact with his neck.

“Nice underwear,” he taunted her with a smirk as he hooked his fingers in the waistband and began to pull them down. Truthfully, he found them insanely hot, her beautiful bump revealed as he pulled them down her body.

“Shut up,” she said, glaring at him as she grabbed his tie and roughly pulled him closer. Leonard couldn’t help but smile against her lips as they kissed again, Y/N still tightly grasping his tie in her fist.

Maneuvering herself on his desk, Y/N helped Leonard remove her underwear before they both then reached for his waistband, frantically opening his button and unzipping his fly. When she couldn’t get his pants lowered enough, Y/N parted from his lips once more and violently grabbed his suspender straps, tugging them harshly before hurriedly pulling them off his shoulders. Leonard then pushed his pants down and Y/N lifted her hands to his crotch, stroking his already hard cock through his briefs, his hands gliding over her bare ass as she touched him.

“You need me to fuck you, doll?” Leonard said lowly as he pushed her hand out of the way, lowering his briefs.

“Yes,” Y/N breathed out as she wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted her legs around his waist. “Do it.”

Completely lost in her, Leonard urgently pressed his cock to her entrance and then harshly gripped her ass, scooting her to the very edge of his desk while simultaneously driving into her. He grunted loudly as she cried out in pleasure, and Y/N lowered her hands from his neck to move to his shoulders, gripping them tightly as Leonard began thrusting in and out of her.

“Keep going,” she breathed against his neck as she clutched his shoulders. “Please.”

She started to pant, and her legs tightened around his waist as Leonard began to move faster, his own breath ragged as he turned his face to hers and grabbed her chin, kissing her roughly. She squeezed her legs tighter around his waist, and Leonard lowered his hand from her face and placed it on her belly instead, still moving in and out of her.

“You’re lucky you’re already pregnant,” he said lowly to her, his voice full of arousal and possession. “Otherwise, I’d fuck you until you were.”

Y/N moaned at his words, covering his hand with hers over her stomach as her walls clamped around him.

“Leonard...” she moaned again as he thrusted even harder.

“So fucking stubborn,” he ground out as he slid his hand from her stomach down to her core and rolled her swollen clit, Y/N releasing a high whine as he touched her.

“This is over, you understand me?” Leonard said then, their eyes meeting. “You’re done shutting me out. You and that baby are mine.”

Her heart pounding, Y/N nodded desperately, gripping his shoulders again as she felt her release quickly building. Their eyes still locked, she couldn’t stop herself from saying the words as she saw the same reflected in his eyes.

“I love you.”

Her words sent him over the edge, emotion coursing through him as Leonard roughly grabbed her ass again, holding her steady as he thrusted with insane urgency. Within moments, he felt her clamp more tightly around him, and as his own release approached, he held her eyes until she could no longer keep them open, squeezing them tightly closed and her head falling back as she came with a desperate moan.

Leonard’s release was on the heels of hers, and he came as she was still riding out her aftershocks. His palms slamming against the desktop, he braced himself as his head hung in the crook of Y/N’s neck. They both could only breathe for several moments, coming down from the rush and the high and slowly allowing their surroundings to filter back into their awareness.

Finally lifting his head from her neck, Leonard looked at Y/N, her chest still heaving as he raised his hands and tenderly cupped her face. Looking up into his eyes, Y/N felt on the verge of tears.

“Do you know how long I’ve loved you?” Leonard said to her.

Y/N shook her head.

“I’m sorry,” she replied quietly. “I didn’t know if you felt the same. I was afraid that...I just...I couldn’t lose you completely, so I wanted to give you a way out.”

It was Leonard’s turn to shake his head.

“I love you,” he said. He then rested a hand on her stomach again. “This is what I want.”

Y/N lifted her arms and wrapped them around his neck, pulling him into a soft kiss as he cupped her cheek. When they parted, Y/N rested her forehead against his, speaking quietly.

“I know what you did. The form.” She then pulled away from him. “I know what you did,” she repeated.

“You didn’t give me much choice, doll,” Leonard replied.

She smiled at him and was quiet for a moment, and then she spoke again.

“It’s a boy.”

Leonard smiled.

“I know,” he said, “thanks to that form. Couldn’t count on you telling me, could I?”

Y/N just smiled again.

•.•.•.•.•

Later that night, they lay in his bed in the dark, their bare bodies spooning as they each recovered from another orgasm. Due to Y/N’s belly, they’d had to get somewhat...creative, but after the three-plus months apart, it wasn’t going to stop them.

Leonard draped his arm over her from behind, alternating between resting his palm on her bump and holding her hand. After a stretch of satisfied silence, Y/N spoke.

“You realize that me not being angry with you right now for what you did just means that I get to punish you sometime in the future, right?”

Leonard smiled at her teasing tone.

“I’ll change the first hundred diapers, how’s that?” he said.

She giggled.

“Well, considering that’ll likely only get us through the first week, I’m not sure it’ll be enough, but I’ll consider it.”

He smiled again, and Y/N let out a contented sigh, lifting his hand off her stomach and idly toying her fingers with his. After a moment, Leonard spoke again.

“You’re going to marry me,” he said to her matter-of-factly.

“Oh?” she replied with amused teasing. “Says who?”

“I do,” he replied. “And in case you forgot, I’m your superior, so you have to do what I say.”

She smiled.

“If I marry you, you aren’t allowed to play that card.”

“Is that a ‘yes’?”

Looking over her shoulder at him, Y/N pressed a kiss to Leonard’s lips and squeezed his hand before she rested her head on the pillow again.

“Depends on how easy or how hard it is for this baby you put in me to come out,” she said teasingly, and squeezed his hand again. “If he comes out in under 12 hours of labor, you can start looking for a ring.”

Leonard smiled again and leaned into her, kissing her neck as he slipped his hand out of hers and laid it on her stomach.

“Deal,” he said.

@nyxxie-pooh @xsweetcatastrophe @febris-amatoria @natalie--rushman @hannibellector

@beastofburdenxo @alltoowellbeneaththemangotree @meister95 @garrison-girl-08 @hudson-bay-girl

@neonpurplestars89-blog @fuseburner @ceirinen @allie131313 @betty21rose

@aphroditeslover11 @devotedlyshadowytheorist @tenderly-hopeful-collection

#leonard miller #leonard miller fic #leonard miller x reader #leonard miller x female reader #leonard miller smut #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x y/n #cillian murphy smut #18+ only

[meowmeowriley]

Changes: A Poll-Fic

Ch. 3 Tell Price

Ch. 1

Prev.

Going in half cocked and desperate to get to Ghost had been one thing, but seeing things? His head wasn't on straight. He knew he needed to tell Price. He reached for his comms wearily, all the while under the watchful bloodshot eye of the centipede.

"Not great, Captain." Soap sighed. "Think I'm seeing things. Found a basement, a door with a fuck ton of locks, now I'm seeing symbols and shit when I blink." There was static for a minute more, before Price responded.

"I knew I shouldn't have let you go in there. Soap, I'm pulling the plug, get outta there, Son. You need some time off." Fuckin' shite. He debated for a moment ripping out his earpiece and charging forward, but he knew he'd been playing fast and loose lately. He's no good to Ghost if he loses his mind and gets himself killed. "Gaz, locate the basement Soap found and go in. Sounds like the kind of place they'd keep someone like Ghost." At least Gaz was going to go look for him. Small mercies. The others care about Ghost too. He had to remind himself, though deeply he felt they didn't care quite as much. Couldn't, even. The twinge in his heart wasn't jealousy, definitely not. It was probably the lack of sleep and stims he'd been taking, finally catching up to him. Gaz was capable. He'd rescue Ghost. They'd be reunited. It didn't matter that his wouldn't be the first face Ghost saw after rescue, because he'd be waiting on transport. The way Soap had, on occasion accidentally fallen asleep rested against Ghost's bicep, it was about time he returned the favor of a good pillow and a safe presence keeping a watchful eye.

Eye. The centipede. Yeah that probably should be mentioned. The man and bug had been engaged in a staring contest as it slowly skittered around him until it was passed the doorway. It was now motioning with it's eye over it's... shoulder? Soap was no entomologist. What he was, was a man who understood when a big ass bug with a big ass eyeball wanted him to follow it down an unlit corridor underground.

"Erm Cap? I'm seeing them too." The fuck?

"Say again?" Price barked. He was getting antsy.

"Yellow symbols when you blink?" He'd not mentioned the color. "Shit's all over the place. Like some kinda fucked up disappearing ink. All over the documents I've been looking at, the monitors and screens. The walls and floor. Thought I was losin' it, Sir."

"I'm worried both of you have been exposed to some sort of hallucinogenic gas." Laswell stated. Soap would've rolled his eyes had he not still been holding the bug's gaze.

"There's more, Laswell." Gaz informed them. "Glass canisters. They seem to be filled with whatever was used to write the symbols. It's only there for a moment after I blink, then it's gone. Can't tell if it's a liquid or a gel. Or a gas, even. Can't bloody see it." It was very rare to hear Gaz lose his temper, but the man absolutely sounded frustrated now.

"You both had better be wearing gloves." Soap looked down at his hands, thankful for his gloves. Worn and tattered a bit from use, but still holding on. "I doubt I have to say this but do not let that stuff touch you under any circumstances.

"Yes ma'am."

"Captain UAV inbound, once it gets there I'm going to take over overwatch, I want you to mask up and go in there. If it's a gas I don't want you compromised." She commanded.

"Rog."

"You're bringing as many of our boys back as you can, safely. Understand?" She said the word safely slowly and pointedly. Clearly indicating that she'd leave Ghost behind if either she or Price deemed it too dangerous. Soap's blood was near boiling.

"Affirm. ETA on that UAV?" Fuck you too, Captain. Soap was getting agitated again.

"Six minutes, John." She informed. The static picked up again, and when her voice finally breached it,  she sounded distorted and off. "Soap? Gaz? Masks on. Keep pushing." That was unexpected. So he wasn't getting benched.

Determination set his nerves, any shakes he'd had before were gone. He'd been given the order to keep moving, and he'd be damned if he'd make her repeat herself. "Copy that, Watcher. I'm movin in. Don't know how well comms will hold up, looks like we're going deeper."

No response from Price or Laswell, but he hadn't waited for it anyhow. He pushed in, noting that the concrete of the hall he'd been in ended at the doorway. The floor, walls, and ceiling of the new hall, Tunnel perhaps? was some sort of stone. In the dark, and using his NVG's to see, he had no way of identifying what type, but it had veins of something running through it, leading him to wonder if it was marble or quartz. Odd enough to raise his suspicions, whatever it was.

"We? Who's with you?" Gaz's voice was the only thing to break the silence other than Soap's own footsteps, and that of the centipede, who had fallen in behind him, still keeping it's distance. It seemed to have learned a lesson in personal space after he'd thrown it from his hand.

"There's a creepy ass centipede following me." He grumbled, and noticed the bug momentarily halt when he'd said that, before speeding up to fall in again. He shook away the thought that it understood and had its feelings hurt, telling himself that it must not have liked that he spoke.

"You have one too? With a hand for a head?" A fucking WHAT?!

"No? Mine's got an eye." He stopped walking and looked at the creature. "Bout as big around as a stick a' dynamite, and as long as two." A totally normal unit of measurement. "How big is yours?" The thought of a tiny baby sized hand atop the head of this thing was somehow more unsettling than the eye.

"As big around as my arm, and slightly longer I'd wager."

"Steamin' Jesus."

"Yeah, think I'd give my Gran a run for her money with the shriek I let out when it grabbed my wrist." At least Soap had managed to keep his mouth shut when his own had grabbed him. "It did stop me from entering a room with a tripwire door. Went the long way around and found the wires on the other side." Both men were silent for a beat, before Gaz began trying to contact Laswell and Price, but got no response. "Damn. Guess we're on our own for a bit." He lamented. Gaz's job was to swipe any paperwork he found, download any and all data from any computers, and, if it were safe enough, collect samples of the rumored bio weapon. Soap assumed that the yellow shit was the weapon. What else could it be?

As he continued on, the hall quickly became a downward spiraling slope. He felt off kilter, like any moment the ground underneath him would pitch further downward and he'd go tumbling. Faintly, the further down he went, he could hear... giggling? Every single hair on Soaps body stood on end. There was a man giggling below him, and he quietly crept forward.

Heh.... eheh... ahhahahah....

"Gaz, be advised there's some lunatic giggling like a schoolgirl down here."

"Oh fuck that."

Hmmm... hhmhmhmhmmhuh... aheh...

"Engaging." He whispered, raised his gun, and stalked as quietly as he could. Down.

Heh... huuuhhmmm...

Down.

Hmmheh...

Down.

Ahuheh...

The stone walls were distorting the sound, he couldn't tell how far or close the other man was, it was driving him mad.

And then he heard it. His name.

Hmmm... hhmhmhmhmmhuh... aheh...

Johnnyyyyyyy....

Hehe... aaahah....

It floated to him, the giggling uninterrupted.

Finally, finally, he must have reached the bottom, as he'd found another door.

It seemed weak, the wood would easily give, he decided. He wasted no time in planting his boot upon it and sending it crashing inwards.

Chains were attached to the ceiling, the walls, the floor. Wrapped around a man. He stood  with his head down and knees bent, but when Soap entered the room he drew himself to his full height. Blindfolded and muzzled, he spoke. One word. Voice rough, either from overuse or disuse, and muffled from the plastic of the muzzle covering his lower face,he sighed out in relief. "Johnny." It was Ghost.

#poll fic #choose your own adventure #ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #call of duty #fanfic #modern warfare #cod mw2 #tumblr polls #fanfic wip #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ao3 #horror #cyoa poll #cyoa fic

[pagegirlintraining]

“Why do you even ask? It’s not like you care.”

The way Wille was staring determinedly at the floor, so obviously trying not to show any emotion, made Simon’s caution fly out the window.

“I do!” he blurted out, earning himself a scoff and a shake of the head from Wille.

“Yeah right.”

“No, Wille. I really mean it. I-“ Simon felt his hands tremble at his sides badly enough for him to close them into fists as he swallowed. Wille still refused to look at him, which made him ever more nervous. If only he were letting Simon read at least a few of his emotions he usually carried so openly in his eyes.

But Wille had every right to not grant him that privilege anymore. Simon would have to earn it back. And since Henry had clearly decided to take matters into his own hands and abandon their earlier plan, he had no choice but to start trying to do that now.

And so, Simon took a deep breath, swallowed down the nausea creeping up inside his chest, and said, “I care about you so much, Wille. I know I haven’t been acting like it, and you probably have no reason to believe me. But I do.”

New chapter up, courtesy of @skibasyndrome Simon dropping everything to speed-beta it🥹💜 I have a feeling it might fix some things 😋

#yr fanfic #wilmon #young royals #enemies to lovers #au #wille x simon #simon x wille #young royals fanfic #fanfiction

[bengiyo]

Only Boo! Ep 6 Stray Thoughts

Last week, Moo pushed Kang too hard by confessing his feelings publicly via the school's speakers and was told sternly by Kang to back off and focus on his schoolwork first. With the help of Potae and Payos, he was able to avoid Kang for a week or so to prove he could take care of his responsibilities, and Kang has clearly fallen.

The modern era is terrifying. We must record learning to dance for views on Tiktok.

Episode 6: I See My Destination

They're constantly reinforcing that Moo has no fear or shame about who he is. Dreading when the world tries to teach it to him.

Moo isn't even afraid of his mom. She really did a good job with him.

I am glad Kang's mom isn't homophobic, but I feel like the show was actively misdirecting me for weeks about her worries. I get that we live in a homophobic world so I'm not going to dwell on it. Still, it feels like a waste of angst considering this is a show about an aspiring idol.

Look at that growth from Kang. He still won't commit fraud, but he can offer encouragement.

Sign it himself? Dad Potae wtf.

Shone, do not cause problems on purpose.

I love Moo wearing his glasses to seem more studious.

I love Moo's mom. She knows her son, and she knows when she's being played.

Incredible. Scammers, all of them! But mom is an industry professional who won't be tricked so easily.

I wanna read Moo's mom as concerned about the industry's homophobia being the reason he doesn't pass auditions, but they just let me down earlier with Kang's mom by waiving my read. I'm going to withhold assigning meaning the show may retcon. I feel like I need to stop giving BL credit for alluding to things it then actively undercuts.

Still, Moo's mom giving permission but wanting to understand why they would go so far feels right for the kind of parent she is.

This thing with Shone is getting awkward for me.

It is a real relief that Kang is starting to make moves on Moo.

I kinda wish we'd gotten a stronger sense of what Payos and Potae deal with outside of school and auditions before this episode. Potae being a serial flirt because he feels lonely at home is fine. I get that the show needs us to understand this before they face the audition next week so we have additional emotional stakes on the line, but it just highlights for me that Payos only has stakes around Potae.

I really hope Shone gets rejected next week so we don't have to keep dwelling on this.

This show really frustrated me this week. Completely dropping the mom worries we picked up for weeks just to go directly to open parental acceptance was a huge letdown. It also means that I don't feel secure in any of my reads on Moo's mom not wanting Moo to suffer the entertainment closet. I'm irritated because I struggle with BL shows that want the lightness and silly stakes of the bubble while simultaneously asking me to care about real world queerness. It feels like I'm being shoved back into the closet in a warped way, and I really don't like it. It allows the show to rely on shorthand of internalized homophobia when they're building and then they give us nothing in payoff. I'm not having fun with shows basically telling me to just enjoy the cute boys and ignore queer truth whenever it suits them. It sucks because I am enjoying the arc and pacing of the main romance here, but I feel like it's going to feel empty at the end now.

#Ben watches #only boo! #only boo the series #thai bl #bl series

[ravelqueen]

Dom Kim who has forever grappled with his tendencies, because while doing a scene here and there is nice and scratches the itch, what he really wants is someone he can fully control - not only in the bedroom. Someone who will eat and dress and live and breathe according to his will and his will alone. Someone who sees and values and agrees that he knows better. That whatever they are doing with themselves and their lives, he can improve upon it. He and only he can see the fault-lines, understands how to fix them. How he needs someone to let him.

Only he feels terrible about it, about that want inside him, because what kind of person does that make him, that he wants that, wants someone to be subservient to him in such a way, to be his thing first and foremost. That he has a need to control someone so fully, something deeper than just getting off on it (though there is that too), almost an integral yearning. What kind of monster would want that? What sort of person looks at someone like a project and arrogantly assumes that the other one isn't capable of improving themselves?

So he's been suppressing that part of him hard, all his life, tells himself that it's just like intrusive thoughts and not to be taken seriously - it's not who he really is. But it also means that he's never had a relationship that lasted longer than a few months, because even someone who is into the kink like he is doesn't like how controlling he gets in every day life, how he starts getting angry at them for not wearing the right clothes, eating the right things, because I can take care of myself, Kim.

And this Kim Kitsuragi meets Harry duBois.

A mess of a man. A disaster. Unstable and prone to fits and such a bad idea on so many levels. The last person anyone sane should want to get involved in.

And yet he can't stop himself, can't keep the obsessive thoughts from consuming him more and more:

This is a man who would benefit from someone else controlling him

This is a man who cannot improve himself no matter how much he wants to

This (might) be a man who would thank you on his knees for taking La Responsibilité

This is a man who can only be made better and who is clearly incapable of managing that feat on his own

This is a man no one else - including himself - is interested in controlling or fixing.

This is a man screaming silently and desperately for someone to devote himself to

So why shouldn't it be you?

#disco elysium #kim kitsuragi #harry du bois #kimharry #dom kim #sub harry #GUESS WHO HAS BEEN HAVING AN INSTRUSIVE THOUGHT HERSELF THE LAST FEW DAYS #unhealthy coping mechanisms #ftw