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lilac-5ky · 10 months

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Sex with a Ghost (TojixFem!Reader)

Chapter 1: Date with a ghost

Chapter 2 | Story Masterlist | Masterlist | Requests | AO3

Summary: Being at the bottom of the ladder in your class with a non-combat oriented technique, you are prompted by Gojo to summon a dead sorcerer as a learning experience. However, when none other than Fushiguro Toji appears in your room, you find yourself practicing more than just your cursed technique.

Tags: Student!reader, Ghost!Toji, Age Gap(reader 18, Toji early 30s), Oral Sex (both f. and m. receiving), Manipulation, Corruption Kink, Praise, Degradation, Pet Names (princess, baby, etc), Cowgirl, Toji being a horny asshole that gets redeemed at the end? Sort of.

Word Count: less than 6k.

“But, sensei, is this really necessary?”

You tilted the sphere between your fingers, sizing it up. It weighed no more than a baseball ball did, yet its price must be comparable to that of an entire stadium. A cursed item among cursed items given to a mere grade 3 sorcerer who barely stood out amidst the renowned prodigies of Tokyo Jujutsu High. This was a waste of both time and effort and yet the white-haired man before you begged to differ, eyes glinting a vibrant sky-blue hue from underneath his dark shades.

“Doubting your favorite teacher, Y/N?” he chuckled only to sulk a second later when you asked him what deluded him into thinking he was your favorite.

Undeterred, he continued “I feel like a broken record here, but do yourself a favor and have a bit more confidence. Graduation is two months away, don’t you wanna prove your worth till then? It’s not too late to climb a couple of steps up the ladder. You could easily shoot up to Grade 2. Look at the rest of your class—”

A firm albeit reassuring grip latched itself onto your shoulder, gently twisting you in the direction of your classmates.

The heatwave must have gotten to them for good, blood boiling under the vicious sun rays. Their sleeves and pants were rolled high above their elbows and knees respectively, foreheads glimmering with a thin sheen of sweat that dribbled down their necks.

Just looking at them made your skin crawl with uneasiness.

You didn’t understand why anyone in their right mind would willingly trade the shade of these blessed pine trees for the scorching furnace that the schoolyard was, but when you stopped paying attention to their clothes and took in their blissful expression, you felt a lump swell in your throat.

The two of them were practically beaming, giggling, and prancing around the water fountains without a care in the world— and why should they have anything to worry about when they were Grade 1 at seventeen? A Kamo and a distant cousin to the Zen’ins, both guaranteed to walk a path strewn with rose petals since birth. No trial or tribulation whatsoever.

Your teacher’s voice was muffled into white noise while you were busy shooting daggers at the duo, part of you wishing to join them in their harmless idiocy, and another silently praying that in your next life, you’d be lucky enough to be born into one of their clans. No one questioned the value of a Kamo. No one went against a Zen’in with an inherited technique.

“So, we good? Tell me I didn’t waste 15 minutes of my precious time for nothing.” His fingers squeezed at your shoulder, causing your attention to shift.

You had no idea what he’d been saying, though you’d sat through plenty of pep talks already to guess the gist of it. “You have potential, Y/N. Don’t bring yourself down like this. You can do it!” All empty words without real meaning. Worthless. Not everyone had what it takes to become the next Gojo Satoru. Some people were born to be stepping stones for others, and you were perfectly fine with it. No half-assed aspiration would spur you on.

“If I do this… will you leave me alone?”

A Cheshire cat grin spanned from one corner of his mouth to the other. If one didn’t know any better, they’d mistake Gojo for an overzealous teacher whose earnest goal was to see his students succeed. Not you. You’d spent enough time in his presence to know that his whole “Teacher of the Year” shtick hid an agenda of its own. It was a matter of time to find out what his true motive was.

“What’s the plan?”

“Now we are talking,” he sang in glee. “Very simple, really. You just hold this between your palms and channel as much cursed energy as possible to its center. The ball will absorb it like a magnet and continue drawing from you until you have a clear picture of your target. Then, assuming all goes well and you don’t pass out,” a quiet “What?!” was overwritten by his voice, “you’ll get your very own date with a spirit. Isn’t that exciting?”

Nothing about your expression screamed excitement, eyes squinting in slits and bottom lip quivering into a frown. “And who’s my target, exactly?”

“A Zen’in sorcerer,” he said.

“A Zen’in sorcerer you say,” your eyes wandered again to that soaked blockhead in the distance, the black mop he had for hair flapping left and right. “Ain’t the one over there good enough?”

Shaping a cone around his mouth, Gojo yelled at the top of his lungs for the kids to wait up so they could play together. The duo cheered excitedly, shouting some sort of inside joke you knew nothing about right back at him. Wasn’t the first time you were excluded, and it certainly wasn’t the first time you questioned how this man came to be the world’s most talented sorcerer, either.

“If he was, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” his smile softened as he lowered his voice. “The Zen’in I’m talking about has been dead for a little more than a hundred years now. Unfortunately, his name is erased from our logs,” of course it is “but that shouldn’t hinder you too much. He was an immensely powerful sorcerer with a great amount of cursed energy to back his technique up. An anomaly, if you like.”

“What kind of technique?” “The ten shadows technique,” he answered. “Out of all the Shikigami users, he is perhaps the strongest there’s ever been.”

“Stronger than you, sensei?”

The way his nose scrunched made you regret asking, knowing that a haughty declaration was dangling from the tip of his tongue, begging to be unleashed in a never-ending spiel of self-praise.

“And why should I invoke him in particular?” you quickly changed the subject. “I thought our goal was to hone my spirit-channeling technique and increase my cursed energy flow while we’re at it.”

“That we are doin’, but why not kill two birds with one stone? A new ten-shadow user has risen. I’m sure whatever trick that old dog has up his sleeve will be useful to our little Meg—” He feigned a smile of innocence at his slip. “All you gotta do is chit-chat him into giving you some info. Toss in a few compliments, butter him up. Shouldn’t take more than a few words to convince him, spirits are dying to be summoned— Oh well, unfortunate choice of words. What do you say? You’re in?”

Your groan was all the answer he required to beeline straight to the water fountains, his chirpy laugh echoing from afar. This guy, you huffed, examining the crystal ball anew. There was no way out of this. Either you did his bidding or you’d be forced to endure the obnoxious sound of his voice all summer long.

“Couldn’t you have chosen anything more cliche than a crystal ball?” you snarled, convinced he hadn’t heard you.

“Ouija board was already taken,” he warbled unexpectedly, voice meshing with that of your peers as they ran around in circles, dark-colored uniforms turning darker with every splash of water. “Besides, this has a bit of pink in it,” he referred to the rosy shaded base. “Much cuter than a bunch of rusty letters, right?”

You groaned as you shoved the item into your tote bag, making no mistake to talk out loud again as you turned on your heel. A pinch of jealousy punctured your chest, relieved by every step you took away from the scene and away from the fun the three of them were having.

“Looks like we’re having a date with a ghost tonight.”

It was a quarter past twelve when you decided to put that little experiment to work, the coast clear of overbearing parents and annoying little brothers who wanted nothing more than to disrupt your so-called “studying session”. As far as your family was concerned, Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College (Tokyo Jujutsu High for short) was your average educational institution that had somehow recognized the value of your mediocre grades and scouted you when you were still in middle school— no questions asked from either side.

You wouldn’t go as far as to call your own family a bunch of dimwits, but the signs were all there. A teacher merely four years older than you were, his odd sartorial decisions only second to his eccentric personality. A class made up of four students dramatically and suddenly decreasing to a party of three. An unknown man in a suit and tie driving you back and forth between “emergency study dates” in the dead of night. The lack of studying material in your backpack as opposed to the exams you constantly stressed over. Your unreasonable reaction when your mother stored a cursed tool in with the silver cutlery.

Even if you straight up walked to them with a banner that read “I exorcise curses”, you doubted they’d have anything more to say than a plain “Good for you”, not because they were stupid, but because they simply didn’t care at all.

They didn’t care enough to bat an eye when seven-year-old you tugged at daddy’s trousers, whimpering about a squid-like creature sneaking in your closet, and didn’t care enough to try and justify the stream of water flooding down the corridor. They didn’t care that your imaginary friends were more akin to monsters, and they didn’t care about you being away from home 350 days a year. It was convenient not to. That’s how they were able to drink their woes away at the local bar on a Thursday night with a clear conscience, having offloaded that pest of a brother at your grandparents’ for the fifth consecutive night.

Poor kid. If he wasn’t so despicable, your big sister instincts might have kicked in and raised an objection, though as things currently were suited you best. Rituals required focus, and you needed to make sure no one would bust through the door and interrupt your conversation with Mister Whatever-his-name-was.

You’d taken care of all your basic needs —eating a reheated portion of lasagna, cleansing your body of the worldly filth that stained it, catching a rerun of your favorite show’s latest episode, and cursing Gojo for making you miss it in the first place— and were now seated on your room’s floor with the crystal ball nesting between your bare thighs, the cold sensation much welcome on this excruciatingly warm evening where sitting on the fuzzy carpet seemed like the greatest torture imaginable.

It was only March and you were already in your skimpiest outfit of all; a frilly pair of dusty-pink shorts and a matching low-cut tank top dressing your sweat-beaded body. Dark spots saturated the fabric, demanding your fingers fanned it every two seconds. The worst had yet to come. By the time summer arrived, the final thing for you to crawl out of would be your own skin.

Pushing those thoughts aside, you returned to the item at hand. It’d been fairly long since you’d last performed a seance. Your role in the recent assignments was to support your classmates from the sidelines, exorcising whatever lower-grade curse got in their way with the aid of various cursed tools.

The white-haired nuisance could claim your technique was useful all he wanted, but at the end of the day, yours were simply not meant for combat. Best case scenario, after graduation, the higher-ups would put you on a 9 to 5 job, where you could dig whatever intel they wanted from the comfort of your cramped-up desk; away from your haughty classmates, and away from Gojo Satoru.

You rolled your fingers around the globe’s surface, pads tingling with waves of cursed energy as they seeped into the crystal. Slowly, a dark purple aura came to distort its translucence with colors and shapes of various magnitudes. Shadow-like forms gathered at the seams, remnants of pent-up energy colliding and converging with one another at one focal point. All ready to go!

You began mentally chanting the surname of your target, over and over again until the slideshow of foggy faces diminished to that of a select few candidates from the same bloodline. Some, you would imagine had died when they were still in their prime, measly fledglings of sorcerers with eyes retaining that youthful glossiness, while others seemed to have lived enough to see themselves turn into dehydrated raisins with next to zero cursed energy left.

Once you’d gone through your classmate’s entire family tree at least three times, you caught yourself admitting that despite their faults and innate air of pretension, the Zen’ins weren’t particularly hard on the eyes. Especially that one guy whose mug kept reappearing at random intervals, the slanted scar of his lips lingering in your mind well after the next contender’s appearance. There was something about him, be it the lack of aura he emitted or the viridescent hue of his eyes that had you replaying the frame at the expense of your own energy.

You were drawn to him in an inexplicable way that, at the time, you attributed to fate. It had to be him, right? That must have been why the dope you had for a mentor insisted on calling this a date. Even if he didn’t know the sorcerer’s name, he must have known how insanely attractive the guy was, right?

And suddenly, you felt a sliver of gratitude overcome you, eyelids snapping shut with the Zen’in sorcerer’s face as clear as day behind them, while you chanted the incantation Gojo himself had taught you.

“From the murky shroud of oblivion, I invoke thou out the shadows and blight to bask in heavenly light. Through me gain life, and through life gain thine blessed power.”

No more than a few seconds had passed when you heard a thud, your gaze meeting with that of the very man you’d summoned.

The orb barely did him any justice. Not as if crystal balls were ideal measuring instruments, but you’d need about ten more of those to depict his height as he towered over you, the bulky frame of his shoulders casting a large shadow on the wall behind your head. He was dressed in a much more casual manner than one would expect of someone who’d been dead for over a century, with corded veins and taut muscles peaking underneath a black compression shirt, waist accentuated where his hips met with a pair of baggy pants. And once you got to his face— you must have lost track of time staring into the gem-like green orbs of his eyes, considering you didn’t notice the scowl his lips wore until his tone pointed it out.

“The hell is this?” He sounded just like he looked, the bass of his timbre ringing most pleasantly in your ears.

You wouldn’t know what being dead felt like, but if it was anything remotely close to sitting on a dead leg for hours on end, you guessed he’d rather take a moment to adjust over an answer.

His soles circled the tiny space, eyes dancing between the fairy lights on the wall, the moonless sky —and by extension the empty driveway outside your window—, the three Polaroids on your desk that depicted an old family trip to Seoul (your mother silently accusing him from the frame for the crime of wearing his shoes inside the house), and lastly, you. His gaze feasted on your body as if he’d been starved for ages and you were the first oasis in the desert, his expression gradually easing into a lopsided smile as he cocked his head to the side.

“Got a name, sweetheart?” he asked in a syrupy sweet tone, the nickname he’d come up with making you doubt he’d use your actual name even if you shared it.

You set the ball aside and hopped on your feet, standing on somewhat more equal ground, though not equal enough to completely diminish the difference in height. He was massive, and you were still processing the kind of person that possessed the power to end this man’s life.

“Name’s Y/N,” you extended your hand. “You must be master Zen’in, nice to meet you!”

He merely glanced at your gesture, leaving you to embarrass yourself without a single qualm. “No one’s called me that in some time,” he expressed wryly. “You know about me?”

You nodded, wiping your palm against your shorts. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen a spirit act all high and mighty, a Zen’in at that. “Who hasn’t heard of the greatest sorcerer there’s ever been?” you chuckled, Gojo’s bootlicking advice coming in for the clutch. “You are somewhat of a legend in the Jujutsu world. The one who mastered the ten shadows technique like no other.”

“Is that who I am now,” he pondered out loud, his index briefly scratching his jaw. “I guess I am,” he grinned with confidence. “That why you summoned me? Wanted to meet with great ol’ me in person?”

“Something like it,” you admitted, finding it hard not to smile back. “I just so happen to be acquainted with this idiot who’s a big fan of yours. Had me use my technique for a passing grade.”

A low hum prompted you to continue. “He’s a real pain in the ass,” you groaned. “Calls himself ‘the strongest’ and acts as if he’s ‘teacher of the year’ when he forces me to fish out intel like some lackey— Actually, you might have heard of his family name before, they’ve been around for ages. Gojo,” quickly adding “Satoru.”

At the sound of your teacher’s name, the man’s eyes widened, his darkened pupils blown with an emotion akin to rage. You weren’t sure what great calamity the Gojos had brought upon him in his previous life, but being familiar with their descendant you doubted they put much effort into it.

“The six eyes is your teacher?” he asked, not giving you enough time to question how on earth he knew that title before he pitched in another question. “So, ya just a kid, huh?”

“I’m not!” you objected. “Turned 18 a while ago.”

“A while, you say?” he arched a brow.

“I’m closer to 19 if anything,” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“19,” he mocked, his droopy eyelids incapable of hiding the way he sized your figure up.

You didn’t even think to put on a bra before the ritual started. Just like you could vividly picture what his pecs looked like under his clothes, your flimsy outfit left little to the imagination, the sweat that’d shimmered across your collarbones and cleavage working in your favor.

“Nah, you are right. No kid could ever have a body like that. Plump and ripe in all the right places,” his tongue lapped over his bottom lip, salacious stare prodding at what your arms kept hidden. “That’s a woman’s body, no doubt.”

Heat spread from your chest all the way to your cheeks, and for once, it wasn’t because of the room’s overbearing heat. Your toes sunk inside the carpet, thighs awkwardly rubbing together. You’d found yourself in such a position before, yet never with a boy like him— never with a man like him.

“Th-thank you,” you mumbled, your fingers hesitantly sliding down your elbows.

He took a step closer, lacking hesitation as he lifted your chin with two fingers, his thumb gently caressing it.

“Gonna let me look at the rest, baby?” his other hand encompassed your hip, the size of his palm alone making you feel oh-so small and fragile before him. “I’ll make ya a deal if you lemme. Tell ya anything you wanna know and more— heh, I’ll make sure ya pass with flying colors.”

“I don’t… I’m not-”

Depriving you of the chance to deny his advances, the man slotted his lips between yours and pulled back almost instantaneously, overjoyed to catch you leaning into his touch for more.

You weren’t sure why this was happening— why you were letting this happen. He was a stranger who barely qualified as being alive, and at the time of his death, he was closer to your father’s age than yours. But he was there, and he was paying you attention, and the way he spoke to you as if he already knew your answer ahead of your mouth had warmth spiraling to the lower parts of your body.

Rather than giving in to your pouty lips, the man whose name you didn’t even know cupped your breasts in both his hands, calloused thumbs making quick work of your nipples as they peaked below the drenched fabric, rolling the sensitive buds into full hardness.

“Such a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” he praised, kneading at your supple skin almost adoringly.

The straps of your top slid down your shoulders, and you felt the ghost of a smile press onto your neck, his warm mouth smearing wet kisses right to where your neck and shoulders connected. You bit back a sigh, your breath audibly strained.

“Bet you wanna be touched, hmm?” he continued, finding the sweet spot you didn’t know you had, and pressed on, his sharp teeth digging into your flesh coaxing a purr from deep within your throat. He chuckled, the vibrations making you shudder. “That why you’re dressed like a slut? Wanna be treated like one, mm?” his lips parted again, tongue lapping over the delicate bruise his teeth left as he pinched your nipples harshly. A moan was ripped from your slack jaw, the insult he carelessly threw adding to the slick between your thighs.

“Sounds about right,” he smirked. “Well, I’m not complaining. You’re a sight for sore eyes, kitten.”

He didn’t ask for permission before he tugged at your shirt, your breasts spilling out with a single bounce. You saw him wet his lips once more, fingers seizing your now-exposed nipples and lustful eyes admiring them up close. You hadn’t noticed how close he was standing until his hips bucked against yours, alerting you to how painfully hard he’d gotten underneath his pants. The six-year-long refractory period his body was subjected to was far too cruel— though you wouldn’t know about that until much later.

“Tell me,” he requested, pausing just so he could look you dead in the eye. “Have you ever done this before?”

His lips traversed the valley of your breasts, rough palms sliding languidly across your ribs and waist. You could see him hold you like that while being inches deep in you. Slamming your frail little set of bones against your desk’s wooden surface. Pounding your hole for your parents to return to their precious daughter bent in half by some stranger. Bruising Gojo’s star student until the smug smile was wiped from his obnoxious mouth for good.

All those reasons made you nod at his question, not caring that he’d be ten times rougher because of your white lie. If anything, you looked forward to that.

“Sure you’re not lying to me?” he read your mind like an open book, the elastic of your shorts being torn away from your body. “Won’t be mad if y’are. I love myself a sweet little virgin. Love how whiny their voices get. How,” he lowered himself onto his knees, palm pushing you to sit on your bed “cute their little tight cunts look all stretched around me.”

His hot breath fanned over your soaked panties, index lazily rubbing back and forth between your clothed slit, the added friction sending a pleasurable tingle up your spine.

“You really aren’t one, are ya?”

You shook your head repeatedly like a bobblehead doll, propping your weight onto your elbows as he lifted your legs on his shoulders, the reality of his choppy raven hair nuzzling to your thighs finally hitting you.

“You said all you wanted to do was look, right?” the finger that was hooked around your underwear stopped. “That was the deal…”

For a brief yet conscious second, his eyes bore into yours with such spite that you thought you’d completely messed up. Only a virgin would dare say something this stupid. If he wasn’t bound to you by the ritual, he’d be out the door the moment you spat those words, you knew it, but then his knuckles brushed over your abdomen to find the hand that clenched onto the sheets, and you realized that wasn’t the case.

“Deals get altered and terms renewed all the time,” he mumbled distractedly, deeply inhaling your scent on his nose, while your fingers unfolded between his lips. You gasped, the sight of him fucking them in and out his mouth —tongue slithering right in the middle and saliva dribbling down his chin as he popped them out— enough to hypnotize whatever sense out of your brain.

“I’ll make ya a new deal,” he hummed, gently directing them to your mouth as if he beckoned you to do the same. A smirk tugged at his scar as he watched your pink lips obediently part and round around your own fingers. He didn’t let go until he heard you choke, secretly plotting to replace them with something else—sooner, than later.

“My technique is what interests you, right? How about instead of telling you, I show you?”

You tried to remove your hand, but he shoved it back in, his true colors pouring into a devilish smile. “I’ve had enough of your voice. All you gotta do is sit back like the good little girl I know you are and keep your legs nice and spread for me. How’s that?”

The only thing your head could manage was pathetically bob up and down in agreement, your fingers stuck in your mouth like a damn pacifier, while your cunt pulsed at every single word he uttered; derogatory or not. Were it any other guy talking down to you like that, your knuckles would be leaving an impermanent imprint on his cheek. Were it any other guy treating you as if you had no volition of your own as if you were just a toy for him to break, and you—

There wouldn’t be any other guy for you ever again. He’d make sure of it.

He ripped the fabric into a single shred and tossed it over his shoulder without caring where it landed- your bedside lamp. He looked down at your pussy, debating to himself whether to start with his tongue or fingers first, calculating the time it’d take for him to prep you for his cock down to the last second. He might’ve been a lot less nice than he pretended to be, but he wasn’t about to go out of his way to hurt you. Not intentionally, at least.

“Let’s see,” he tipped forward, the way his forefinger slipped between your folds without any resistance whatsoever bringing you shame. It didn’t go unnoticed by him, his digit triumphantly pulling out and smearing your slick all over your puffy lips. “Is that all for me, sweetheart? So fucking wet just for me?”

Your hips bucked forward as an answer to his question and he thought he wouldn’t mind taking things slow for once— see how much you could take before you came completely undone.

“Girls like you make the best fuck,” he cooed, voice echoing right through your core. “Surrendering to the first sweet word they hear.” His thumb circled your clit, flicking at the little bundle of nerves. “Leaking at the slightest of touch.” His middle and ring fingers joined in the action, burying themselves as far inside walls as your tight hole let him push. “Breaking so easily.” He drooled, coating your entire pussy in his thick saliva before allowing himself a taste, tongue lapping at the mix of juices straight from the source.

Your thighs clenched around him, muffling the lewdness of a whimper as he looked up at you, his smirk loosening with every kitten lick across your flesh. You wanted to say something, to call out his name and moan for him, but it all felt so unpracticed— similarly to how unpracticed your cunt was when it came to the girth of his fingers; much bigger than yours, more experienced too. He reached depths you didn’t know existed, bringing your body such pleasure that had you writhing for more, hips slamming against his face.

He groaned, his own arousal throbbing against his lower abdomen, begging him to get this over with. “Wanna fuck my face, baby?”

You felt your cheeks ignite anew, the eyes you’d fallen for at first sight overflowing with lust, convincing you it felt as good for him as it felt for you.

“Can’t let ya do that,” he parted your folds, fingers spreading your thighs apart while his tongue darted between your lips, his nose intentionally nudging the pink nub with each deep stroke against your spongy spot. “Gotta earn it first.”

You stared at him like an idiot, wondering to yourself if somewhere between his refusal to shake your hand and his eagerness to quench his thirst with your body you’d passed away because that was what heaven ought to feel like. That was what angels ought to look like.

“Got something to say, princess?” his eyes shot up and he gestured for you to unlatch your mouth.

“S-so pretty,” you whispered.

“What was that?” his ears perked up, not because he hadn’t heard you the first time, but because he could do with some affirmation himself.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this… f-fuck—” a yelp punched its way out of your lungs as he folded you in half, pinning your thighs onto your stomach, and crawling onto the bed right after them.

He’d had enough of this little game.

“Good girls shouldn’t cuss like that. Six eyes didn’t teach ya that?”

Holding you down with one hand, he dived back into your pussy, his fingers pumping in and out of you at a furious pace that had your upper body tossing and turning, the first unregulated moans ushering him to keep going. His tongue toyed with your swollen bud, the squelching of your cunt growing significantly louder from this angle, reverberating throughout the four walls of your bedroom. You were close, and so was he to getting his dick wet with all the mess he’d helped create.

His mouth watered just at the thought of his seed being the one to dribble down your thighs instead of his spit. He could picture you in one of those cute blue-navy skirts hanging from your closet and hoped you weren’t a tights person. He wanted to see you off to school every morning with your thighs sticking together so deliciously that anyone smart enough would understand how meticulously he’d fucked the brat out of you—

If only there was a mirror for you to see how stunning you looked. All fucked out and writhing, disheveled hair stuck on your tits and forehead while you nuzzled to the pillows, your shaky voice calling out to the surname he’d left behind. Would you still do that if you knew he played you like a fiddle? If you knew he was no esteemed Zen’in or sorcerer, for that matter, but a man hell-bent on ruining you for his own sick satisfaction?

Your body reciprocated his vile thoughts, your pussy fluttering around his digits. “Gonna cum for me?” he panted, forcing your legs to the side lest he missed a reaction.

Neither of you realized how his one hand had sneaked into his pants, stroking his veiny cock closer to the ecstasy he craved. Precum leaked hot out of the reddened tip, his thumb frantically swiping it over his length in sync with his thrusts. He’d stopped listening to your pleas and instructions. He fucked his fingers in you as he pleased, slowing down only when his balls began to dangerously tighten. Only then did he tear his fingers away ‘cause God forbid he busts his load in his palm like some fucking untouched teenager— regardless of how obscenely pretty you appeared for him or not.

Once he regained his composure, words made sense again. Harder. Faster. More. He hated being told what to do but absolutely loved how pliant you were. A people-pleaser, he bet. Going above and beyond what was asked of you, bending and breaking into whatever molds others force you to fit. He could work with that. Shape you into a mold only he could fit in.

“Cum for me, baby. Show me how much prettier y’ can get.”

His cock twitched as he felt your walls clamp down around his fingers, your sweet face contorting with pleasure, lips swollen with how hard they’d tried to contain the last bits of debouched decency.

How cute.

He set your legs down and moved up to meet your face with his, a wave of genuine softness rushing over him as he thought to kiss your lips tenderly, hushing whatever emotion had you spasming. You were so sensitive. Even if you’d been with another guy before him, he doubted they knew what they were doing— not like he did, anyway. He’d make you scream out his name for the neighbors to hear what a dirty slut lived just next door from them.

After a short while of his stroking your hair and whispering filth into your ears, he decided he’d been good enough to get his trick. He took your hand in his and guided it to his cock, grinning like a little kid as your smaller palm traced the outline over his pants, knowing full well both hands would do nothing to cover his girth.

He’d really missed this— so much that he didn’t mind letting a grunt out in appreciation, certain that more would follow.

Your eyes met, the spark in them telling him you understood what he expected you to do, and even if you didn’t, he’d teach you. He’d teach you everything, snatch you from that piece of shit and make you into his star student, so long as you kept touching him and let him do all the things he’d spent the last thirty minutes fantasizing about.

Everything and anything, all for you to take—

The thoughts that failed to reach your ears along with all traces of the man whose weight alone -up until a moment ago- threatened to crush your body into a fine powder evaporated, the smooth sound of his voice replaced by the crude breaks of your father’s car as he pulled into the driveway— your mother’s kitten heels soon clicking atop every step they climbed.

Shit.

A/N: I actually intended for this to be a one-shot, but I guess it sort of ended on a cliffhanger so, oops. Lemme know if I should write a second and final part, or if you have any Toji ideas/requests ♡

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theleotarot · 5 months

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What Makes You Different From Your Future Spouse’s Previous Partners? ♡

Requested Reading ♡

Choose the image you are most drawn to or resonate most with… pile 1, pile 2, pile 3, & pile 4 ✨

18+ pac readings available here 🔥

Pile 1

(Tarot cards: Queen of Pentacles, Three of Cups, Seven of Swords, Eight of Pentacles, Two of Swords, & The Empress)

The first thing I’d like to say about your future spouse’s previous partners is that they may have been much older than you, or they have experienced more in life than you have. They have this well-grounded energy and seem to very well-off with finance. Even though your future spouse’s previous partners are abundant and seem to be experienced, I am getting that they are deceitful, or even have been a cheater to your future spouse. Their previous partners also get along well with other people, and they may have many friends, but I’m seeing that they may have partied too much. As a result of being a party person, for some of you, I am seeing that your future spouse’s previous partners have cheated on them at a party or a bar, and they have lied a lot to them when they are with their friends.

For you, you are a wonderful work in progress, and you’re still pursuing your goals and dreams. I can see that sometimes you may be indecisive at times about certain things, but you always manage to make the right decision. This is what separates you from your future spouse’s previous partners; you know right from wrong. Even through during difficult situations or arguments with your future spouse, you would never go out of your way and cheat on them and be disloyal. You know the good values in a relationship. You are also more nurturing and caring than their previous partners towards your future spouse. Your future spouse knows how much you love them, unlike their previous partners who made them feel uncertain about their love. You may also be more independent and do things alone by yourself a lot, rather than being an intense party-goer.

Pile 2

(Tarot cards: Judgment, The Devil, Four of Swords, Nine of Cups, The World, & The Moon)

Pile 2, the energy I am getting for your future spouse is that they have not taken their previous partners seriously, or if they have been in relationships, it is built based on lust or physical attraction only. With their previous partners, there is also an air of toxic energy that I feel. Since your future spouse may have had relationships built on physical attraction only, I am getting that there may be jealousy from their previous partners and even possessiveness. I don’t believe that there is real love between your future spouse and their previous partners, instead, there is a controlling and toxic bond that may be mistaken as “love.” Them and their previous partners lack the emotional connection, and I’m getting that your future spouse has gained anxiety or stress due to not finding anyone who has fulfilled their emotional needs. Another thing I’m getting for some of you is that your future spouse and their previous partners have kept their relationship as private or secret. I am getting that they did this because as said before, they didn’t take their relationships serious due to lack of real love OR there was abuse (emotional or physical - take what resonates).

On the other hand, you are everything that your future spouse has been looking for. Seriously. With the 9 of Cups and The World coming out for you, I already know that your future spouse is not only so physically attracted to you, but they are also very mentally and emotionally attracted to you. They are very emotionally fulfilled by being with you. You are quite literally the whole package to them, and they love that they have finally found someone that they can connect with in all ways. The 9 of Cups also tells me that in your relationship, you won’t be overly jealous and possessive with them like their previous partners were. You’re not jealous or possessive because you have that self-love and don’t rely on anyone else to make you happy. Ultimately Pile 2, you give a really healthy love to your future spouse. They appreciate that you have put an end to their uncertainty about love and that you opened their heart up to a safe, emotional, and fulfilling love.

Pile 3

(Tarot cards: Three of Swords, Temperance, Six of Swords, The Fool, Three of Wands, & Three of Pentacles)

Okay Pile 3, I am getting that your future spouse and their previous partners have had a lot of troubles and difficulties in regard to differences in future plans and goals. I am really getting that them and their previous partners have different priorities which have led them to separate ways. For example, if your future spouse wanted to have children, but their partner didn’t want children, that would be an issue to them. It could also be different lifestyles that the both of them couldn’t handle with each other. With your future spouse and their previous partners, there was also a lot of waiting for the other to change, and they both lacked a lot of compromise with each other. I am also getting that for some of you, your future spouse and their previous partners were attracted to each other because of similar traumas, or they use each other’s company as an outlet to get away from their hardships. This really explains why them and their previous partners played the waiting game so long with each other- They had love for each other that was built from past experiences, yet they couldn’t work out because they were both actually very different from each other individually.

With you, instead of connecting with your future spouse on a trauma level, you connect with them on an adventurous and fun level. You are more about the fun and creative side of life and more on the “live in the moment” side of things. This is actually great because I can see that your future spouse admires that you have introduced them to their light and playful side, which they thought no one could bring out of them (Wow, that is so sweet). You also are a great planner with your future spouse as well! With the 3 of Wands, I can see that you and your future spouse do not butt heads with each other in your future plans, and the both of you are very successful in expanding your life together! In addition to the 3 of Wands, you also received the 3 of Pentacles, and evidently, the both of you work very well as a team. That is what separates you from your future spouse’s previous partners- you bring the light and joy into their life by being courages and supportive, and your dreams and goals align with theirs.

Pile 4

(Tarot cards: King of Cups, The Fool, Wheel of Fortune, Three of Wands, Five of Wands, & The High Priestess)

Your future spouse’s previous partners may have been people who are older, yet exude young energy at the same time. I am getting that they have this young and adventurous side about them that is not afraid to take risks, but they are also balanced by their emotional intelligence. They are full of adventure, yet they have a calming demeanor of emotions. I believe that their previous partners are more on the relaxed side while still enjoying life to the fullest. For instance, they might be the type of person to quickly and eagerly travel everywhere, but once they’re at the destination, they just like to sit back, relax, and enjoy the stay. They may have traveled a lot or have got really far into their career already. Their previous partners may also be very well-known in their community and seen as very affectionate or emotionally supportive.

With you Pile 4, you are more fierce. You love to playfully bicker and argue with your future spouse, and they find this spontaneous about you. They love the fiery energy you give off. You have a lot of inner strength and power to take charge in your own pathway. You are also always opened to overcoming new challenges and trying out new opportunities. I get a younger energy with you as well, but you are more independent, and you like to shine by yourself. While you are fierce and bold, you also exude feminine energy. Your future spouse puts you on a pedestal. It’s kind of like, you know your own worth, so you have standards of your partner treating you with good respect and even do chivalry with you. I can see a scenario where you drop something on the floor, and you ask your future spouse “Can you please pick that up for me?” and they do it because you are the queen. Overall, you exude this energy of a bold and fierce leader to your future spouse, which their previous partners lacked. With their previous partners, your future spouse was the one to be initiative, but with you, you take control to be initiative on your own will as well.

#tarot reading #love reading #future spouse reading #relationship reading #free tarot reading #pick a card #pick a pile #pac #daily tarot #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #pinterest pictures #love pac #fs reading <3 #pac <3

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randombush3 · 2 months

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Kinda miss Fleur and Alexia bickering 🫣 can I get a request a one short of them getting into a fight

sorry I took ages to do it - I've been trying to think of a scenario. I imagine that the dutch players have had a very miserable international window lol

[...]

I slam the door behind me.

There are few things in life that cause me absolute devastation, but this week has been one of them. I’m tired, I’m angry, and, what’s worse, I’m resenting the fact that Alexia’s apartment is bright and happy.

She smiles as she emerges from the bathroom, perhaps not hearing how I entered as I used my own key.

I take it as smugness. (I want it to be smug.)

“Hola, mi amor,” she says with caution, heading over to greet me after not seeing much of each other for the best part of a week. She must sense the tension because her smile dampens, victorious glow from winning fucking everything fading away.

“Hey,” I mutter, tone clipped and curt and dripping with resentment. Alexia approaches, concern beginning to make her frown, reaching out gently to touch my arm.

I jerk it away from her.

For the briefest of moments, I feel a long-dead emotion: hatred. I loathe Spain’s success, am jealous of it, and it is not fair that it comes at my expense. Not when we are together, not when we are no longer enemies.

It was easy to play against Alexia when I was her rival. I could tackle her freely and let my teammates foul her when she was too good to beat, able to watch on without remorse. Seeing her hit the grass brought about a vindictive, satisfied feeling, and I relished in it.

Being her girlfriend is a lot harder, and it has been a while since I have had to play on a different team to her. It has been a while since we lost to Spain, but, just like they did in August, they have crushed our dreams once more.

My dreams.

The Olympics are more special to me than any other tournament, and will continue to be until the games are no longer valued in women’s football. They are my family’s history, the gateway into my relationship with my mum, and they are now out of my reach.

I huff out a breath, struggling to contain my emotions. “We lost twice so we won’t be going.” I tell her what she already knows but she does not rub it in. “Jaimie is going to qualify.”

Alexia looks at me, piercing eyes seeing through the floodgates I have shut. She must realise that I have cried on the plane – maybe even that I hadn’t stopped crying since we played Germany, only reining it all in as I made my way up the stairs to her place.

“What do you want, Alexia?” I snap as she attempts to touch me again, blinking myself back into reality and hoping I don’t start to cry.

Clearly, my wounds have not been nursed enough.

Alexia recoils, hurt flashing across her features before she schools them into something harder. Her jaw clenches. Maybe she thinks I am being immature. “What’s wrong with you, Fleur?” she asks, her voice tinged with frustration. “I know you're upset….”

“Oh, like you care,” I retort, bristling at her words. “You seemed happy to run around with Jenni, celebrating your socks off!”

Her eyes narrow, patience wearing thin. “Excuse me?” She doesn’t sound convinced that I am the real Fleur de Voss, looking me up and down to check I haven’t been replaced with someone else.

“You clearly have let it get to you. Have you forgotten what it’s like to lose?”

“Oh, of course,” she scoffs, “because that has never happened to me before. I was inconsolable after we lost the Champions League final; I didn’t come out of my room for–”

“Please, spare me the sob story.” I roll my eyes. “You’re on top of the world right now, Ale. Spain wins everything and you keep adding to your list of victories, crushing anyone who dares to get in your way. And the worst part is, you don’t even play! You don’t even play, and you act like you have done it single-handedly, with the biggest grin on your face–”

“Do you think I enjoy seeing you in pain?” She trembles with anger. She shouts, and she hasn’t meant to be the first to do that because she instantly steps back in regret. I may have flinched at the shock of her volume, but now I square my shoulders, daring her to fix my heartbreak. “Do you think it didn’t take all my willpower to not go over to you, to not comfort you, or hug you, or try to make you feel better? Do you think I wasn’t trying to get to you as soon as I could? Or that, in Sevilla, I didn’t look at flights to Germany so that you wouldn’t have to spend the night alone?” She steps towards me. “I know how much going to Paris meant to you, to your family. Believe me, I heard what your mother said to you – even if my English isn’t that good.”

“Your English is fine,” I mutter, instinctively destroying her stupid insecurity.

“Fleur, how could you think I take pleasure in your losses? You know me better than that.”

I shake my head, unable to quell the storm of emotions raging inside of me. “I feel like I don’t know anything right now,” I admit, hardly audible.

I was going to the Olympics. I was sure of it.

Jaimie and I were going together, and, although Mum competed for a different flag, we were going to follow in her footsteps; continuing her legacy because she promised me I would be good enough to do that. She promised us both, time and time again.

She may have left us, but she was the one who wrangled me a spot in the Australian youth teams. She started my international career for me, and I was going to repay her by showing her it was worth it.

What is it worth now?

“All I know is that I’m tired of feeling like my best isn’t good enough, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending everything’s okay.”

Suddenly, this is about more than just losing the Nations League and not qualifying for the Olympics. This is the fallout of the Ballon d’Or, and we both know it. Alexia seems to have seen this coming.

“I’m sorry for not being there when you needed me,” she begins, though guilt courses through me because I know it would have been asking the impossible of her, “but I’m here now.”

#woso #randombush3 #woso fanfics #woso imagines #barca femeni #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader

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charliedawn · 2 months

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Hey this is some stupid fear I have but how would some slasher ( whoever you want. ) React to a nurse who is young like in 20s and isn't scared at dying at a young age or isn't scared of dying like any time, but it's scared to grow up? It's really a stupid fear I have personal.

P.S you don't need to do it tho.

( sorry for the bad Grammer, English is my second language. )

Pennywise:

"Yeah. Growing up is scary, kid. I won’t lie to you. But, guess what ? It is part of the process." Pennywise hesitated before patting your head. "Cheer up. Being mortal isn’t all that bad. Living forever is a bore honestly."

Pennywise’s throat tightened as he realised that you would grow up. He knew it was a process and that in the blink of an eye…You would be gone. He waited a few seconds before surprising you by pulling you into a hug. Your eyes widened as you realised that he was shaking.

"Pennywise…" You uttered in a whisper before sighing and hugging him back.

He didn’t say anything. Truth was ? He was scared too. But, he didn’t want to tell you with words. So, he hugged you and hoped you’d understand that he was scared too…but that he was happy that whatever little life you had left, he’d be right next to you until the end.

Penny:

Penny lost so many people in his life that he asked Pennywise to erase his memories of the people he used to love. When you shared your fears with him however, he tilted his head and seemed to ponder on it for a moment before shrugging.

"I could make you live forever. Would you be happier if I did ? Make you immortal ?"

You started thinking about it.

Living forever ? You smiled sadly and shook your head negatively.

"Thank you, Penny. But…I don’t think I would like to live forever. Life is meant to be precious…It is not meant to go on forever."

Penny tilted his head and looked puzzled, but he didn’t say anything. It was odd. He had never seen his life as precious when he was alive. But yours ? His jaw twitched slightly. Yours. He valued.

Vincent Sinclair:

Vincent is an artist. He sees beauty in everything.

When he heard that you were scared of growing up, he just started taking as many pictures as he could of you and showed them to you. He then told you in sign language that you’d live forever—in his camera.

And that if you were scared ? Well, you just had to look at the photos and remember that that was how he would remember you forever. He then started stroking your hair and pressed his forehead against yours to calm you down.

Vincent knew he would eventually have to say goodbye.

But, to him ?

You would always remain a masterpiece.

Five Hargreeves:

"Growing up is scary. But, being stuck as a child is even worse. Children never get heard. I would know. I was a child. Twice."

He said and looked down. So many years spent in solitude. So many years wasted. He lived for decades and yet, Five never thought that he was truly alive. He was feeling better with his siblings, but he never actually had any moment in his life that he could say that he felt like he was enough or enough. Sometimes, he even wondered if the world would have been better without him.

It was only when he was admitted in St Louis that he realised he wanted to be something more and make his life a good one. It wasn’t until he met…you.

He looked at you and smiled.

"You gave me a life. And even when you get older and start forgetting about how you changed everything for me, I’ll be there to remind you. Every single day."

Jason Voorhees:

Jason never had a real childhood. He was bullied as a kid and his overprotective mother never allowed him to get out of her sight. When she died, he had no one to look after him and felt lost and lonely. He tried to reach out to people, but he could never create attachment with anyone.

So, he just kept killing and making sure people stayed away, because it was better than to get hurt.

And then, he met you.

He started caring for you more than he’d care to admit and soon enough, he wasn’t feeling as lonely anymore.

Jason *hugs you tightly*

Jason started looking up to you and even though he was also afraid of what will happen when you get too old to keep him company, he still wanted to keep you close to him—no matter how sad he would be once he would have to say goodbye.

Brahms Heelshire:

Brahms looked at you and shook his head—as if he didn’t believe you.

"Y/N…Never going to grow old. Will stay young forever. Young forever with Brahms."

He hugged you and closed his eyes.

Deep down, he knew that you’d eventually grow old and disappear. But, in his mind ? You’d always be perfect. No matter how old you get or how afraid you get.

Brahms : "Don’t worry, Y/N. Brahms is here. Brahms will stay with you…"

He held back tears and just hugged you tighter.

Norman Bates:

Norman: "…Darling. Listen to me. I am the oldest slasher to have ever existed. I was born in 1932. I am old. Very old. But…I would give up a whole eternity just to be with you. So, it is not about having a long life, but a good one. A worthy life. And just meeting you made mine worth it. And if I was to die tomorrow ? I can say…I lived a good life." He smiled and stroked your cheek affectionately with his forefinger. "You should do the same. Stop worrying about when your time is gonna run out or because of the few wrinkles on your face. Just remember to have fun and enjoy your life. Take the advice of a man who’s seen it all."

He then put down a tray on the table.

"Now, tea ?"

Jack Torrance:

"Old ? Ah. Don’t you worry, sweetheart. You’ll be one hell of a cute old lady, if you get there." Jack never got the chance to grow old. He secretly misses being alive. He would have loved to grow old with his family and be a father to Danny. But, he never got there. He died—frozen and alone. He then came back as some sort of ghost who feeds on fear. So, no. Growing old isn’t something he would find scary, or losing you. Because he knows that when you do grow old and eventually leave this world, you will go to a nice place—unlike him. And if you don’t ? Well, you’d be trapped with him. Either way, he knows you’ll be alright. So, he isn’t worried.

"You’ll be fine. I know it. Now, stop worrying and come have a drink with me."

Hannibal Jr.:

"You will always be a Hannibal in my eyes. No matter how old or wrinkled you get…You will always be my beloved daughter." Hannibal Jr. told you when you shared your fears with him. He stroked your cheeks and smiled. "Always."

You smiled at him and hugged him tightly. He returned your hug and whispered in your ear.

"You will always be part of this family." He then kissed your forehead. "No matter what."

Ghostface (Eddie Munson):

"…Don’t worry. We will grow old together. It will be less lonely." Ghostface told you and smiled at you. Unlike the other slashers, Ghostface can grow old. He is not exactly a slasher. It is more of a multitude of people taking the role with time. Eddie won’t be Ghostface forever. Once his mission over, he will start growing old as well until he just gives his mask to someone new.

Ghostface *scoots closer to you and wraps an arm around your shoulders* : "I bet we will be the coolest old people ever…" *smiles*

#pennywise x reader #pennywise 2017 #pennywise 1990 #vincent sinclair x reader #five hargreeves x reader #jason voorhes x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #norman bates x reader #jack torrance x reader #hannibal jr #hannibal x reader #ghostface eddie munson

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aureutr · 1 year

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Glass Onion and COVID masks as character shorthand

I wanted to talk real quick about the scene where Benoit and our suspects first meet on the dock. The mask shorthand is not necessarily needed, we’ve been introduced to almost everyone already and can get a good idea of who’s an outright asshole and who might have more layers (ha). But I still appreciated it.

This is what I think about the scene in general, if you have a different interpretation I’d be interested to read it!

Benoit - Patterned cloth mask. This was not uncommon to see in late 2020 and beyond, but this is only May 2020. He (or his husband) likely sewed it himself. This is a conscientious, yet stylish, man who pays attention to what’s happening and adjusts his behavior accordingly.

Lionel - Black cloth mask. This mask does not provide adequate protection for others because he is wearing it over substantial facial hair. He’s a man of science who cares... but perhaps only so long as he does not have to make any personal sacrifices for it. In this case, it would be shaving his beard or finding a masking solution that forms a better seal. In other cases....? :)

Claire - Ill-fitting beige mask. Her nose is hanging out through half of the scene (also is that a tampon hanging out of it when she gets out of the car?). Similar to Lionel, she has values that she supposedly stands for. But she is either ignorant of the full picture or is willing to set those values aside when she thinks she needs to.

Birdie - Golden mesh “mask”. Birdie has already been shown as uncaring about COVID earlier in the film with her party (”it’s okay, they’re in my pod” my ass). Here she flaunts the fact that she is aware of what she should be doing, but is choosing not to. There is also an underlying thread of her general ignorance, as she foregoes anyone’s safety (even her own) for style and glamour.

Peg - Standard surgical mask, perfectly fitted, complete with twisted ear loops. She is meant to be bland and in the background, at least in-universe. Peg is imminently practical, and while she might like finer things (later in the movie she is visibly disappointed to be given a Solo cup when others receive personalized glasses), she is willing to forego them to achieve her goals. There is not much more that can be gleaned from her mask alone.

Duke and Whiskey - No masks at all. Duke is a far-right asshole with no regard for the safety of others, and little regard for his own. Whiskey does as he says, even though she later mentions that she doesn’t want her politics completely defined by his. She might not want that, but her actions speak louder. There is nothing subtle about Duke and little about Whiskey, they are as they appear.

Andi - No mask. But I’m willing to forgive this one in the name of movie magic, given that the shot is meant to be lingering and mysterious. At this point we don’t know anything about this character, but it seems unlikely that she’s in the same camp as Duke. Or, perhaps given that all of the other characters are masked (or not) in meaningful ways, her lack of mask is a subtle misdirection about Ms. Brand.

Under the cut find another quick note about the mysterious “puff gun”.This does contain spoilers for the end of the movie, so tread carefully

We learn at the end of the movie (though it’s not exactly subtle from the get-go) that Miles Bron is an utter moron. Explicitly, anything good he does is not his idea and many things he does on his own are idiot mistakes that others go with because of his power and influence (and money). Whatever this mysterious “you’re good” puff was, I seriously doubt it was a COVID cure of any sort.

My headcanon is that everyone who left “Pieceshite” Island alive dealt tested positive for COVID a few days later.

Also, I called her “Andi” and not “Helen” so as to not spoiler anyone. ;)

EDIT: Several people have pointed out that Lionel actually has a KN95 mask, not a regular cloth one. My bad! Thank you for correcting me. I still think my take otherwise works since his beard breaks the seal.

#glass onion #knives out #movies #rian johnson #daniel craig #benoit blan

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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 3 months

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I’ve been thinking a lot recently about Jesper Fahey and religion.

Whilst we know that Matthias follows Djel, Inej follows the Saints, Nina was raised with the Saints but is atheist because of her understanding about Grisha, and that Kaz and Wylan adopted atheism based on their childhood experiences, we don’t get a lot of information about how Jesper feels about religion. We know he was raised with the Saints and that when he swears he says “Saints”, as does Nina, where Wylan says “Ghezen”. It’s notable to me that Matthias and Inej either rarely or never invoke a name in vain; I think Inej may say “Saints” in that context the odd time I can’t remember, but I’d argue in that case it’s probably because she isn’t specifically naming them to do so whereas Matthias would have to but I’m working off memory there so please feel free to correct me. But Jesper’s actual relationship with the Saints is arguably quite ambiguous, with no particular passages that point us in either direction. (Show!Jesper is highly implied to be atheistic in season 1 when Inej asks him what he thinks about Alina and he says he doesn’t care whether she’s real or not so long as they get paid, but there isn’t really anything like this in the books to my recollection) I think that might be because he has a far more complex and painful relationship with religion than we see on the surface level, and this has particular links to Nina’s belief that the Saints were possibly real people but were simply powerful Grisha not religious saviours/martyrs.

When Jesper was a child, his father would read him bedtime stories “from his Kaelish book of Saints”. At the same time, Colm was unintentionally damaging Jesper’s view of Grisha power and of himself by forcing him to hide it and telling him “that’s what killed your mother. That’s what took her away from us”. Alongside the self-hatred this cultivates in Jesper, seen mostly in Crooked Kingdom since he’s most open about it in the beautiful, heartbreaking chapter 24, I think it may have also impacted his relationship with religion. To be told as a child that these people are worshipped and valued for the things they could do, the same kind of things he saw his mother do and that he could be capable of, but that his power is a curse and a shameful secret that has to be hidden from the world is so damaging. It effectively raises the question: If it’s different for me than it is for them, what’s wrong with me? Why am I less worthy of love?

When Jesper already had these feelings growing inside him, feelings that went on to massively impact all the relationships in his life (most notably his relationships with Kaz and Wylan but I would also argue his relationship with Inej is affected by this as well) and actively endanger him when he began to try and fill the void he felt with gambling, to emphasise these emotions with something that could have been so beautiful and given him so much comfort by turning it into something that can be used against him by labelling him as less than others is so heartbreaking and honestly painful.

Obviously this is just an interpretation or a theory but this is how I feel about it when I reread, if anyone else has thought about this please feel free to add anything or contradict it with your own interpretation I’d love to read it.

#grishaverse #six of crows #crooked kingdom #leigh bardugo #inej ghafa #kaz brekker #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #nina zenik #matthias helvar #Wesper #jesper my beloved #soc jesper #jesper #six of crows jesper #jesper and inej #jesper and wylan #jesper x wylan

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silverthehedgehoganalysis · 12 days

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Here is a list of traits Silver has shown in the games, Sonic Channel and other Sonic Team made content:

Righteous, has a strong sense of justice and is driven to make things right

Kind-hearted, puts other people’s happiness before his own and will drop his mission to help others, is motivated by his desire to protect smiles, wants to use his powers not for himself, but to help others.

Extremely Determined

Optimistic and Hopeful, believes there’s always a chance as long as you don’t give up, inspires hope in the people he works with in Forces, the final story of Sonic 06 and when he helps Elise through her performance anxiety

Pure, has a “sincere, unpretentious and kind” demeanor and wears his heart on his sleeve, this genuineness and purity gives him an “enduring charm” that is one of the biggest things his friends, particularly Blaze, enjoy about him and makes others want to support him

Forthright, is very direct and frank with people and has a straight to the point mentality, is straightforward in his actions and thinking

Earnest and blunt to the point of naivety, expects people to believe and cooperate with him when he says he’s from the future, hides very little and is so honest that he announces himself when attacking Sonic

Not trusting post 06, doesn’t give Sonic a Chaos Emerald until he proves he’s real in Sonic Generations and is the most suspicious of Dodon Pa

Snide and Sarcastic, sneers at Eggman’s theme park in Sonic Colors and has a snotty attitude towards anyone he can one up, remarks “What am I doing?” when going with Amy

Brash, has rude/informal mannerisms and can be abrasive, particularly to people who are not his allies

Juvenile, described as young and immature by his creator Shun Nakamura, this immaturity ties into many aspects of his character as well as his purity but is also the source of his snotty attitude and rude behavior, supposedly he doesn’t like green peppers which is the Japanese equivalent of children not liking broccoli

Focused, proactive and practical mindset, seen particularly throughout Sonic Forces

Focused on his goals, Does not care what the plan is called in Forces, only that it works and when asked about his favorite race item he says that he likes Jade Ghost because “It lets him disappear and focus on the race”

Inquisitive and proactive, questioned others about how the world was destroyed in the Iblis future his whole life, fought Iblis to try and clear the sky himself, spent most of Team Sonic Racing cracking down on Dodon Pa and Eggman, reads into “Ancient Wisdom” in the good future

Sharp and intuitive, Figures out how to revive Sonic in 06, sees through Eggman Nega's disguises by noticing small details, does successful detective work in Sonic 06 and Team Sonic Racing, intuits Blaze trying to control great powers when seeing them for the first time, has solved various puzzles and mysteries by himself, “knows a lot” according to Sonic in Silver’s Sonic Channel introduction story

Skilled and Crafty, skillfully accomplishes various tasks during his Town Missions in Sonic 06, turns his fight with Sonic into a race to collect Chao in Sonic Rivals 2, Vector refers to him and Blaze as professionals in the Team Vector Nintendo Dream interview, has had jobs as a delivery boy, a figure skater, a “genius” skating coach and a butler

Trains off-screen and makes steady efforts to improve his abilities, seems to be self-taught in his skills

Sometimes takes everything on himself

Warrior with a warrior mentality, described as a warrior, enjoys fighting and will fight his friends for fun, fought and struggled for half his life in the Iblis future, values bravery and facing things head on, dislikes cowardice and indirect tactics, can endure “pain beyond description” and is undeterred by injuries (Shadow’s infamous kick to the head only made him mad)

Competitive and proud/confident in his abilities, has a smug attitude about his abilities and can get competitive over something as simple as handling Orbot and Cubot, clashes with Blaze the first time(s) they meet because of this

Headstrong and Confrontational, confronts Infinite alone because of this, gets offended when Blaze she calls him “weak” and treats him like an amateur

Very Emotional, tends to rush in and deal with things too head-on because of the strength of his feelings and start confrontations because he gets heated, his passion drives him forward but this same passion can cause him to be rash as his actions are dominated by his feelings

Hot Tempered and impatient, can be easily angered and gets frustrated or indignant when things don’t go his way, can get annoyed at things that get in the way or impatient with things that aren’t to the point, his sense of justice causes righteous indignation at great injustices, his temper can be quite similar to Blaze’s

Has Aggressive energy in both his demeanor and body language, generally has confident or determined expressions, often makes fists, punches things when he's frustrated and gets up by punching the ground

Can be Ruthless, has resorted to playing possum, sneaking past Soleanna guards, robbing people and killing to accomplish his goals

Courageous to the point of being Reckless, puts other’s safety before his own, instantly reacts to protect those around him when attacked in Sonic Comic, Instantly battle ready when surprised in Generations, fought against Iblis and its monsters from a very young age growing up in an extremely hazardous devastated future, both values bravery and dislikes cowardice, recklessly went off to face Infinite on his own and is noted to not back down even in the face of his mighty power, will sacrifice himself without a second thought if necessary

His way of life inspires others and makes them want to cheer him on, this even extends to real life as the illustration at the top this post inspired everyone in the office to give him a high five that day

Cannot lie but can change the subject

Doesn’t know how to explain/express himself at times

Scratches his head with his index finger when processing his thoughts

Feels joy and anger loudly but is quiet in sadness and contemplation

Gets rowdy, riled up and puts his all into things he’s feeling but is very low and quiet when something is on his mind or he’s feeling down(He’s totally autistic, this is autistic volume)

Has a mischievous side

Like apples, ate apple flavored rations in the Iblis future

Deeply appreciates peace, prosperity and people‘s smiles, beautiful vistas and people living peacefully leave him breathless

His desire for peace is seemingly driven by strong empathy for both the people and environment around him, blue skies make him feel at peace, natural beauty and people living prosperously takes his breath away, desolate or destroyed areas sadden and upset him, he can’t help but smile when he makes others smile and can’t stand to see the suffering in his destroyed futures

Has a very quiet, introspective and empathetic side (he deeply and quietly reflects on the morality of his mission throughout 06 and quietly takes in everything about Elise’s past)

AB blood type meaning that he's dual natured and adaptable based on the situation

Is a Taurus

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skywlker-sluvtt · 1 year

Note

jealousy angry sex to fluff what do you think I really love a jealous ani like in the clone wars

I adore jealous clone wars Anakin. The whole Padme and Clovis thing was just so 🤤 especially when Anakin beat the shit outta him. Here's a lil headcanon-y piece. I went a lil overboard but...I kinda like it 🫣 I hope you enjoy lovey.

Warnings: degrading, dirty talk, no protection (please be safe), spanking, possessive asf behaviour, and more 18+!!!

Word Count: 1.5k

༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹▫◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ

➮ Anakin is so vocally jealous. He’s a cocky ass hole and he will talk to the person flirting with you in the most condescending way ever and it gets on everyone’s nerves.

➮ He’s just so possessive of you and wishes you just wore a sticker on your shirt saying “Anakin’s my husband go away” so everyone fucks off. He also starts getting annoyed at you if you seem to be entertaining someone's flirtatious behaviour. Anakin’s watching you with some douchebag and he’s thinking “Yeah I bet that dick head can’t make you cum as good as I can” cause his mind goes straight to sex.

➮ It starts with his firm assertive ‘I’m the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy, fear me fucker’ voice. He stands up straight, with crossed arms and a clenched jaw as he storms over to retrieve you. (this part is incredibly sexy because he’s so hot and jealous)

➮ You can just feel the envy radiating off his body and you almost enjoy it. Anakin will make some shitty excuse to take you away making it somewhat obvious you’re his and only his. He’ll firmly grab your arm basically pulling you away from the guy. Anakin shares his partner with no one. If anyone is even talking to you with any kind of suggestive tone Anakin will go for their throat and sometimes it can be a little embarrassing if he makes it seem like you can’t take care of yourself.

➮ “Anakin! That was humiliating I can look out for myself I don’t need you constantly lurking around me asshole” You complain pacing your shared bedroom. “Oh I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of your new boyfriend,” He says sarcastically. “You possessive jealous little boy. Get over yourself” You roll your eyes frustrated with his behaviour, but knowing where it will get you is the real goal here 🤭

➮ “Possessive? I’ll show you possessive” He growls standing up and towering over you. His large muscular frame is just too much to deal with. He grabs your face gripping your jaw to make you look at him. “Do you not value my protection love?” He asks his eyes are dark with lust. “I don’t need you over my shoulder constantly” You huff. “You’re so naive Y/N” He states. You turn your head avoiding his dangerous gaze. “Darling, who do you belong to?” He asks in such a fake-sweet-sounding tone. This is when he decides he’ll just fuck the bratty attitude out of you. “I don’t belong to anyone” You reply. He scoffs before pressing a hard, lewd kiss to your lips.

➮ Knowing what’s coming next you return the kiss threading your fingers through his hair as you both fight for control in the kiss. His tongue dominates yours and he pulls away smirking. “Strip for me, then get on the bed” Anakin whispers lowly in your ear giving your ass a smack and you’re quick to do as he says. As you take your panties off he snatches them from you. “Hey!” You try to grab them back and he smirks. “I think I might keep these in case I have to gag you” He replies swinging them around his finger and making you turn bright red.

➮ He’s the kind of guy to act fake sweet and humiliate you before angry fucking you till you can’t cum anymore.

➮ Slowly, you get on the bed as he takes off his own robes. “Touch yourself” He states still standing at the end of the bed. “What?” You reply shocked by his request. “Touch. Your. Self. Don’t make me repeat myself” He says again as you hesitantly move your hand down to your dripping heat. Biting your lip you slowly begin to circle your swollen cunt and Anakin can’t help but smirk watching the way your eyebrows are drawn together and the breathy moans you let out. “For someone who doesn’t need me you’re soaked princess” He sneers coming even closer to you, his eyes trained on your pussy. “Not for you” You reply. “Really?” Anakin laughs. “Should I leave? Maybe I’ll find someone at a bar who wants me” He sighed getting up. “N-No, no Anakin I-I didn’t mean it,” You whine reaching up to grab his arm and pull him back.

➮ He puts you on your back and cages you between his arms. “That’s what I thought, you're just my needy little slut aren’t you,” He chuckled, the sound of his breathy laughter making you rub your thighs together in pleasure. “I am” You whimper pulling him down for kisses. You yelp as he flips you on your stomach and roughly squeezes your ass while kissing your neck and back. Anakin’s a sloppy messy bitch and decides to lick up your spine and make you squirm first. “Ass up,” He says firmly. You shift positions gently and he gives you a few hard spanks making you moan.

➮ “God you’re so easy,” He tells you grabbing your hips and pushing his hard cock inside of you. “You just love all this attention don’t you, is that why you flirt with these creeps? You’re an attention whore huh?” He asked. You stay silent and he grabs a handful of your hair tugging you upward and keeping your back to his chest. “Answer me” He whispers biting your earlobe. “Yes” Is all you whisper wiggling your hips desperate for him to move. “Please Ani” You continue before he lets you go and starts fucking you at a merciless pace letting out his pent-up anger on your tight pussy.

➮ You’re whining into a pillow moaning at how deep he is inside of you. Anakin’s hands gripping your hips, his cold metal hand probably leaving marks. “You like it when I fuck you, dumb sweetheart, I bet your boyfriend couldn’t make you feel this good” Anakin grins in your ear. “H-He’s not my b-b-boyfriend” You stutter barely being able to speak from pleasure. “I’m the only person that can turn you into such a dumb cock drunk whore” Anakin continues his dirty talk the whole time.

➮Then he reaches down and grabs your throat pulling you back into him. You let out a loud moan at the angle change and he’s holding you up tight against him while he’s fucking you. “Ani” You whimper and he gently squeezed your airway closed. “Good girl taking me so fucking well” He rasped. He lets go of your throat he uses that hand to play with your clit. “Tell me who owns this pretty little cunt baby” His sadistic grin is crazyyy. “You do Anakin! You” “Mhm yeah I do”

➮ “Please l-let me cum Ani I promise I’m yours all yours” You moan before he flips you on your back. Anakin loves the sight of you all messy and sweaty desperate for his dick. “Good girl, you are mine. You don’t need anyone else” He continues fucking back into you causing you to start scratching his back. “I’ll make sure they all fucking know your mine” He groans leaning down to suck the biggest, purple hickeys across your neck to get his point across. “Cum on my cock sweetheart,” He says licking across the marks. “Anakin! Oh, fuck Anakin” You moan coming undone around him quivering in ecstasy. “Mhm, baby I’m gonna cum so deep inside you, get you all p-pregnant with my child. No one will ever touch you if you see you big and fucking swollen with my baby” He growls before finishing deep inside of you.

➮ Afterwards he goes all soft on you. “I love you so much” He whispers so softly making you grin at his sudden change in tone. “You know that?” He asks. “Course I do…I love you too” Laying beside you he smiles and presses the softest kisses to your face. “Y’know I don’t mean any of that right?” He makes sure. “I know, it’s fun” You grin squeezing his bicep. “Let me get you cleaned up pretty girl” He grins.

➮ He’s quickly cleaning you up and getting you a cold glass of water. Eventually, you’re just cuddled up to his chest as he strokes your hair. “I’m sorry for getting so jealous. I just hate seeing other guys talk to you like that. I know you can handle yourself…I just like protecting you” He blushes. “It’s okay, I like how possessive you are Skywalker. It’s cute” “I’m not possessive, I just love you” Anakin whispers kissing your temple making you giggle. He he fully believes with his whole heart he is not possessive, but like bro he so is “Don’t laugh at me” He grins kissing his cheek. “Love you Ani…m’all yours,” You say softly. “I’m all yours too” Anakin replies pecking your lips once more.

#anakin skywalker #anakin #anakin smut #anakin headcanons #anakin fic #anakin x you #anakin x reader #ani wani #tcw anakin #jealous anakin #anakin angst #star wars fic #star wars smut #sw prequels

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sophie-frm-mars · 6 days

Note

Hi, ex-supporter here. Genuinely hope you’re doing well. I have been tempted to start up my support again because you genuinely are a talented writer/creator and I do enjoy your work.

I hope you understand supporting your Patreon is somewhat fraught. Your private life should be none of our business, but sadly it is relevant here. Moral action, both private and political is central to your work; you have called out plenty of people for abuse & morality drives your politics. We know abuse took place on your end, but that’s all.

A lot of people like myself might be emotionally rooting for you to bounce back from this, but are unable to support you right now because that moral dissonance has not been resolved. We really don’t know if you are like other ‘cancelled’ leftist influencers and just use leftist values to deflect attention away from abuse, or you are actually trying to do better and working on yourself.

You don’t owe us anything. However, many of us who are eager to support you are forced to hold back because trust has been damaged, and there has not been any real sign of reparation or reconciliation. Maybe you think those kind of questions are invasive, maybe you don’t think we are real fans for not sticking by you despite the allegations.

I don’t know, I just want you to know that there are plenty of people who do want to support you, but feel they need to trust you first. And that can’t happen without addressing some things.

Anyways, best wishes. Take care.

Hiya, thank you for speaking to me on this.

Before I say the rest of what I say I want to be clear that between me and the people I was involved with in 2023, there were some instances where I was responsible for harm, there were instances where I received harm and there was also a general pervasive ecosystem of harmful behaviours in the community I was in. This includes people who signed the statement against me, and in one instance one of them did something which everyone to whom I have described it has agreed is sexual assault, though there is more besides.

For the time being I'm not talking publicly more about what happened because it was a very messy situation, and although I have been seriously harmed by issues in my personal life being litigated in public in this way, I don't want to give my full account of my relationships with everyone involved because I don't want that type of harm to be done to other trans women. There are plenty of complicating factors as there often are in real life that social media isn't really capable of parsing. I have made it clear repeatedly that I am open to hearing anything that people involved want to say to me, and I talked in this post in January about that and about what I would be doing to ensure that I put in the work and make sure I don't cause harm like it again

https://x.com/sophie_frm_mars/status/1745414530455261531

I think that that post says everything I would like to say for now, although I regret saying I agree that my behaviour was abusive, because with more distance and perspective I don't think abusive behaviour was actually described to me.

As I understand it via the support that my therapist and friends have offered, my problems in 2023 were that: I wasn't taking my mental health seriously, I didn't learn good kink practice, I had very little appreciation of my own boundaries and when I shouldn't be doing something that someone asks me to do, and I was high basically all the time. I am in therapy and doing DBT and taking my mental health deadly seriously, I have done a huge amount of reading assigned by my therapist about kink, sex, relationships and mental health, I am working in an ongoing way on learning how to effectively communicate, know my boundaries and understand myself well enough to not be in the kinds of situations that risk harm, and I'm no longer high all the time.

(If anyone is interested in those book recs, so far I've read: Tomorrow Sex Will Be Good Again by Katherine Angel; The Right To Sex by Amia Srinivasan; Screw Consent (I hate this edgy title) by Joseph Fischel; Playing Well With Others; The Loving Dominant by John and Libby Warren; I Hope We Choose Love by Kai Cheng Thom; The New Topping Book by Dossie Easton and Janet W Hardy; and Dissociation Made Simple by Jamie Marich. There have been some others, and I've written a bit about them in the book club channel on my discord as I've been reading)

I haven't heard from the people involved. The last I heard from anyone was one of my exes calling me a pathological liar and saying that they just want to move on with their lives, so while I'm doing the work to make sure I act better in future I am just trying to get on with my life and let them get on with theirs. I hope this clarifies why I have not talked further about the situation.

I will say that the last few months have been hellish for me. I have been frequently suicidal, I spent Christmas and new years alone, I lost a tooth because I couldn't afford proper dental treatment, people from within the community I've been ostracised from have been putting pressure on my remaining friends to cut ties with me, Keffals had my abuser on her twitch stream, a bizarre exaggerated and monsterised version of my personal life has been publicly gossiped about by trans people, fash and "leftist" drama streamers alike, I have been doing other work to make sure I can still pay rent and afford my bills and my HRT, and to survive. As I've been getting more stable and more able to focus on things besides this, I've been working on new writing because all I want with regard to my work and my channel is for my writing to help people. I don't want to talk about my private life, but I do understand that some number of people will feel after what has been said about me that they can't move forward with me without hearing the full details. Lots of people in my life have repeatedly encouraged me to publish a full account of everything that happened but I know how the Internet works and I don't want other trans women to be harmed in the ways that I have been harmed.

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mistydeyes · 11 months

Text

fake hypochondriac

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hypochondria

hy·po·chon·dria noun

excessive concern about one's health especially when accompanied by imagined physical ailments

summary: If an apple a day, keeps the doctor away then what keeps a pharmacist away? Whatever it is, Ghost wants to eradicate it. This man's small crush will send him to extremes. A sequel to "a panacea"

pairing: Ghost x pharmacist!Reader

warnings: medical/pharmacy terminology, medical inaccuracies, swearing, depiction of wounds, fluff, and flirting

a/n: by popular vote, ghost's sequel won! don't worry though, price's will be coming real soon ;)

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The unit had been a buzz about your work as a pharmacist officer. From clearing Gaz’s congestion to the ridiculous bandage you gave to Ghost, they simply would not stop talking about you. Soap even tried to convince the doctor that he needed to visit you for a malady of reasons but your colleagues were smarter than that. You had to give it to him, the fake food coloring blood applied to his stitches was a nice touch. It became a running joke in the medical wing. Some of your closest work friends even gushed about how the men would talk about you as if you had discovered the secrets to eternal life.

All joking aside, in all your years here, people had called you pet names and made small attempts at flirting but you always had your main goal on your mind: provide the best care so they can stop bothering me. However, one man caught your eye. No one would ever know that the masked man who wore a star bandaid was the one who stole your heart.

Of course, you’d never want anyone to have to constantly come visit you on the pretense of needing medication but you valued the time spent with him. Somehow he ended up needing every single vaccination. From pneumococcal to typhoid, you wondered if you should tell him that these were all voluntary.

Little did you know, he made every effort to miss the optional clinics and went straight to you upon his return. Your soft touch and even softer laugh were like music to his ears. He didn’t know how many people were graced by your presence like this but he tried to make himself the most memorable one.

His younger self would have laughed at his antics. His mother used to say an apple a day keeps the doctor away. Even though you weren’t a doctor, he would cut down every apple tree and burn every pie if it meant seeing you daily.

One day, Soap gave him an idea. The team was ending another debriefing with Laswell and making conversation as they left the room. “I wish I could visit the lass but all she does is either give me my meds or gives her whatever you call recommendations” Soap groaned as he lugged the large number of building layouts and files in his arms.

“Pharmacological and non-pharm recommendations, Sergeant” Price corrected. “You better learn their terminology, they didn’t go to school and experience those muppets at the local chemist’s for nothing.”

That was it, Ghost would ask you for some silly non-pharm recommendation like Gaz had and keep coming up with new ailments to keep visiting you.

The plan was in place, following the lunch rush he walked to the medical wing and made his way to the pharmacy.

You stood in the back, answering yet another phone call from a doctor. “As I said before, you need to find out what their reaction is to penicillin and other beta-lactams. I don’t care if they say they have a true allergy, you know anaphylaxis is the only indicator. And no, I’m not ordering something off the formulary just because your patient says they were sneezing after a bout of amoxicillin. Just call me back after you spoke to them and if you really need it, then you know where to reach me.” With that, you slammed the phone down and let out a groan. You knew pharmacology was no doctor's favorite subject but this was antibiotics 101.

Your technician came around the corner, “Captain L/N, is everything alright?”

“You know we’ve been working together for what 2 years now? I’m just Y/N especially back here in this phone call hell.” you laughed as you sat down in your chair. “I’m alright, just another medic trying to get me to order something off the formulary for kicks”

“Well Y/N, there is someone here to see you. Just a soldier complaining of a sore throat. He says the doctors won’t prescribe anything because they haven’t observed anything wrong.” Your tech responded before disappearing amongst the shelves to fill some incoming scripts.

You made your way to the front where you were surprised to see Lt. Riley wearing a face mask (although still with the ghost print). Even though he had been coming for months now, live vaccines had to be spaced out by 28 days, you had not seen his face fully. His eyes were trained down and you noted his surprisingly light eyelashes. He still had the ever-present eye black and you wondered how he kept his lashes so pristine. If it was a mascara or a brand of makeup remover you needed to know!

“Simon,” you spoke in a cheerful voice. By now, you were on a first-name basis. It only took one tuberculosis skin test for him to encourage you to call him by his name. To be fair, when you held his arm gently to measure the area he would’ve told you anything.

“You aren’t due for any vaccinations you know. You’ve cleared me out! I’m sure the doctors would think I’m sticking you for my pleasure and your pain.” you joked. You were teasing but you knew there was no way he was here for yet another immunization.

“Not this time, love. I’ve got this tickle in my throat. It hurts when I swallow and I swear Soap saw my tonsils angry and inflamed,” he replied.

“And the doctor didn’t diagnose you with bronchitis or call for your tonsils to be removed?” you questioned. It wasn’t unusual for them to miss anything but you were realistically unable to prescribe anything to him.

“Well let me take a look. If you want to head over to the vaccination area then you can take your mask off. I’m sure you are familiar with where it is.” With that, he nodded and walked toward the designated area. He appreciated your kindness and that you valued his privacy.

You let your technician know where you’d be and they waved you off saying they could handle the onslaught of soldiers if it came to it.

As you entered the corned-off area, you saw Simon there, fiddling with his mask. You didn’t understand why he was so nervous, how could someone so well acquainted with violence be nervous of a flashlight and quick examination?

“Don’t worry, I’ll sure to be quick. I just need you to remove your mask and open up wide,” you explained and fished in your pocket for your pen light. To any recruit, they would’ve made a cheeky comment to your command but Simon obliged to your ask.

As he lowered your mask, you couldn’t help but admire the man in front of you. He was gorgeous. He looked like he was carved from a model like some Greek deity. His face was adorned by various silvery scars that looked painted on a portrait with metallic paint. His jawline was sharp and his lips were blush pink with an even sharper cupid’s bow. You made sure not to ogle for too long and began your assessment.

As you pointed your flashlight, you examined his throat and tonsils, trying to find if the doctor had missed anything. But when you saw no redness and his lymph nodes weren’t swollen, you didn’t know what to say.

“Hm, well good news and I guess bad news but I’m not seeing anything here. I’m not sure what to tell you but I wish I could help” you said in a defeated tone. You looked saddened by your lack of discovery and this made Simon want to scratch his whole plan.

“But,” you began, as he put on his mask, “my grandparents would always say ‘Y/N, all you need is to get some good rest and have a cup of tea with lemon’” you explained, trying your best to impersonate your best old person voice. Simon chuckled at your attempt. God, you really knew how to brighten someone’s day, and who could not love your sweet, grave voice?

“Sorry to take your time, love, but I’ll be sure to let you know,” he said and stood up before giving you a thankful look.

“The pleasure is all mine, Simon. I try to do what I can for one of my favorite patients,” you replied. You were laying on the flirting hard, something you would lie in bed cringing about later.

With that, he walked out of your little bubble and went about his day. You watched his muscular ass figure exit as you too returned to your day.

Although you thought you had cured him with some good advice, you were visited every other day for the next few weeks as he still had the same complaint. You had recommended everything following each checkup. From spoonfuls of honey and thyme lollies to encouraging hot showers and steam therapy, you were out of options. By what seemed like his 10th visit, you were prepared to march him down to radiology and make sure that this wasn’t some terrible looming illness.

“Still having that sore throat, huh?” you questioned as he walked through your doorway. He nodded in agreement and you picked up the landline. “I’m making a quick call, we’ll get this sorted out.”

“Hi, this is Captain. L/N. I have Lt. Riley here and he has been complaining of a sore throat for weeks. Is there any way the lab could run a throat culture as well as some blood work for me?”

And that’s how Simon ended up in the doctor’s office with a cotton swab down his throat and multiple needle pricks to his veins. He should’ve picked something more benign like reoccurring IBS but then again he might have ended up with a finger up his ass instead of the swab.

Two days later, you received a notification that the results were in. To your dismay, the results showed nothing. The swab was negative for every infection and his blood cell counts were all within normal range.

Frustrated, you told your tech you’d be back and walked your way to Cpt. Price’s office.

You knocked on the closed door hoping not to disturb the man. His baritone voice echoed into the hallway as he told you to enter.

“Hi Captain, sorry to bother you,” you said noting the mountain of paperwork on his desk as well as his extinguished pile of cigars. “But I was wondering if you had noticed anyone else in your unit with a sore throat. Lt. Riley has been coming to the pharmacy for a few weeks now and no one can figure it out.”

“Not that I know of. We haven’t run drills either so I know our quiet Ghost isn’t necessarily screaming at the recruits. He hasn’t come to me either with any complaints,” he explained and leaned back in his chair. He knew that Ghost was wasting your resources so he decided to let you in on a secret.

“As their commanding officer, you know I highly value the word of my men. But I do remember during my school days, that boys would tend to lie about an illness just to get sent to the infirmary and eventually home,” he explained. “It’s no secret that some soldiers, even Ghost, show a fondness for you.”

You blushed at his response, you couldn’t imagine that of all people, the stoic Ghost had a schoolboy crush on you. Hell, you hated your school nurse and always dreaded going to the doctor. You went days before telling your mom that you might have broken your finger during recess (you can still remember her rushing to the emergency room the minute she saw your bruised and puffy finger).

“I’ll talk to him the next time he comes in, which I hope he doesn’t,” you said, “thanks for the advice. And don’t forget, I always have a pack of nicotine gum for you if you ever decide to quit.” He chuckled and politely shooed you away. As you shut the door, you shook your head as you heard a lighter flick and smelled the familiar scent of a cigar.

Right on schedule, Simon came strolling into the pharmacy. You had just finished chatting with Soap and chastised him for yet another antibiotic prescription. This time it was for an infected foot wound after forgetting to change his socks and wading in still, grimy water during a mission.

As Soap gave you a cheeky smile saying he’d be back, Ghost tried to suppress his jealousy. Why did Soap have to be blessed with a purulent foot wound instead of him? Maybe he’ll try that one next.

“Ah Simon, I’m heading out to lunch if you’d like to join. I’m presuming it’s still the throat issue so I can check it out after.” You said and reached into the fridge under the counter to grab your food.

You made sure to lock up the pharmacy and lower the protective barriers, you couldn’t let anyone access the “good stuff.” Your tech said their goodbyes as they went to the mess hall for some warm food.

It was the dead of summer but today was surprisingly balmy. You knew there were some tables outside so you pushed the exit door and sat down on one side. He sat opposite you as you opened up your salad and half sandwich.

“So, can I tell your story?” you said before taking a bite. He nodded watching you intently.

“There was a time I broke my finger during recess and didn’t tell my mom for the next 3 days. You should’ve seen her face when I revealed my oozing, bruised ring finger. The thought of missing school and recess was devastating so I hid it like a child.” you explained and held up your left hand showing how your ring finger was slightly askew compared to the others. He laughed heartily, which made you also laugh in return.

After wiping some tears from your eyes you went on, “And that’s why my mom was so shocked when I got my MPharm. She always tells my dad that she doesn’t understand how someone so adverse to doctors went into healthcare.”

“We all have our weird obsessions, plus you are a natural,” he said and was almost at a loss for words as you smiled back at him, the sun hitting perfectly on your face and dancing in your hair.

“Anyways, I told Captain Price that story and he had such a different experience. He said that as a young lad, he and his mates would do anything it would take to get into the infirmary and home. I couldn't believe kids were so smart and had the forethought to plan something like that!”

Ghost knew where this was going. He also received notification that the tests came back clear of any illness. He knew the jig was up but couldn’t run away from the confrontation.

“Now, I’m not debunking your mystery illness, Simon. But I just wanted to talk to you privately and ask if there was anything else that you haven’t told me?” You asked and knew you had got him hook, line, and sinker. His eyes glancing around and his sweaty palms were confirmation of your theory.

He took a few moments to answer and you both sat in silence. You finished the remainder of your food and wiped your hands neatly as he stroke the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“I guess I was just finding an excuse to talk to you,” he began to explain and you could see his extremities begin to grow flush. “I, uh, didn’t know how to so once I ran out of excuses with the shots, I decided to fake a sore throat,” he sheepishly replied.

With his confession, you couldn’t help but laugh. And laugh you did. Hard. It took you a minute before returning your composure.

“You know that the other soldiers can just have a regular conversation with me. I don’t bite and I swear I’ve talked Gaz’s ears off about pollen and flowers. I just feel bad now for making you undergo all those tests,” you said gently placing your hand on top of his.

“I do see what you mean though. If I had a doctor as handsome as you, I would have every illness, injury, and question under the sun.” You couldn’t leave him thinking you didn’t reciprocate your feelings. With that, it was your turn to blush.

“It’s rather childish isn’t it?” He said as he gently caressed your other free hand. “Sorry for wasting your time.”

“How about you make it up to me with dinner? I can show you that there’s more than just textbook knowledge to me” you offered, “I know a surprising amount about languages, I can flirt with you in 10 different ones.”

“It’s a date, gorgeous. I’m all ears for anything you have to say,” he said and you both looked like lovesick teens, “As long as you keep this a secret. You know the doctors would never believe me if I actually got sick.”

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

After months of dating, you revealed a secret. “After I spoke to Price, I had a suspicion to check your medical record. You know I could see you never went to the doctor right? You never logged any visits for your alleged sore throat.” You said jokingly and lightly punched his shoulder. “I just can’t believe you roped everyone into it. I can have a normal conversation, babe.”

He laughed at your reveal and kissed the top of your forehead. “I just wanted to make sure your university course load prepared you for anything.”

#task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #cod x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #modern warfare 2 #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty #mw2 imagine #madebyizzie #mw2 #pharmacist! series #izzie is writing

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akane171 · 4 months

Text

Things about Ron Speirs that live rent free in my head

-“SPEIRS, GET YOURSELF OVER HERE!”

I don’t know what I like most about this scene. The fact Dick just furiously passed Sink and ignored his commander, because his boys were getting screwed? Speirs running to him and then without a single word sprinting to do the job? Or Nixon with his binoculars liveblogging the whole battle? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

-The change in his voice and intonation between “I’m taking over” and “First Sergeant Lipton!”.

-The church scene, when Lipton says Easy men didn’t care about the gossips… It was HILARIOUS. Like, Lip? Sweetheart? Ron scared the shit out of Christenson and some poor innocent kids in the same damned ep. I could hear Pat’s sobbing in the background during that scene, mixed with the nuns’ chorus.

-A man needs a hobby and his was trolling people. Aside of the whole “did he or did he not shot the prisoners”, he enjoyed the gossips, appearing suddenly out of nowhere, while giving creepy speeches and traumatizing people. And he did it fabulously. Legend.

-His little, millisecond pause, when we watch his back while Lipton says “Well, maybe they keep talking about it because they never heard Tercius deny it”.

-And two things about this scene. Lipton knows Speirs was trolling people and it was amusing him. And Ron’s answer “Well, maybe that’s because Tercius knew there was some value to the men thinking he was the meanest, toughest sonofabitch in the whole Roman legion” - he knows Lip knows he was trolling people and (not directly) admits it. He never did that to anyone else, what also means he really respected Lipton (gross sobbing).

-Anyway, this whole church scene is a pure love and I adore every second of it.

-He was a history nerd ;_; I’m kind of sad, we didn’t see him and Buck taking about some ancient battles in Gaul.

-He kept tabs on Easy xD how much he’s learnt from creeping in the shadows and eavesdropping – no one knows xD

-The fact real Speirs was shot in the ass on some of his solo patrols proves he was just meant to be Easy’s CO. Fucking destiny.

-His favourite sergeant was Grant (ok, ok, put the pitchforks DOWN, I said sergeant NOT lieutenant, geez).

-The fact no one called him “Sparky” in the show is a crime against humanity. But at least we got one “Ron” from Winters. Still…

-I think I read somewhere here, that he wore his helmet so low, because it was too big and… yes? Absolutely? Whoever noticed it – I bow to you.

And it reminds me all the promo pics where we have most of the characters standing together and he stands on the side, a little farer and looking awkwardly like “mom said I have to socialize more, so here I am, ugh…”.

-Also, he looks tiny compared to the other guys on many shots/pics, what is hilarious on many levels.

-I realized it after the second watch, that he not only stole cigarettes from Buck, but he offered them to the German POWs. Not his cigarettes, but the shit he stole. I don’t know why, but it’s just so super HIM xD

-I wonder when exactly Easy Company did realize that their new CO is not exactly the meanest, toughest sonofabitch in the army, but a big ass weirdo, with poor social skills, suspicious hobbies and sticky hands.

-Ep 8 look >>>>>>>>>>>>> everything else.

-The moment when Webster throws himself to the ground and Ron just stands in the background, watching the missile like it was meh (he had a personal ranking of “Things that almost killed me” and that missile was not even on the Top 10).

-“No. You don’t have any experience.” How the fuck Jones didn’t drop dead right after is beyond me. Also, A+++ acting.

-The fact is that Lipton was his social-skills-only-working-brain-cell and it’s beautiful.

-The moment Perconte asked him to give him back his lighter, I guess it was the moment Speirs knew his reputation crumbled to dust xD

-Unpopular opinion, but I don’t think Malarkey scared him on a purpose. I think it was accidentally, what for me, makes it even funnier. But the fact Don started as someone who was scared of Speirs like no one else and ended scarring him – it just warms my heart.

-And that pure annoyance on Ron’s face when Malarkey’s approaches him a second after he scared him, will never stop making me laugh. It the look could kill the bottle in Don’s hands would explode.

-On some point Lipton was sitting with his head in his hands and moaning that he was not paid enough to keep his crazy CO with suicidal tendencies alive and Luz was there-thereing him.

-All the things he's done to keep Grant alive.

-Basically, Speirs gives me a stray cat vibes and the fact he kind of, adopted Lipton and whole Easy proves it.

-And finally, the way he went from “we are all dead, just accept it” to “ok, I guess I’m going to stay in the army to keep the idiots alive (sighs)” is one of the best character developments and is so… sooo … you know? ;_;

Anyway, the thing I like the most about his character is how unexpected he is. I didn’t expect to like him so much. I didn’t expect him to change so much in such splendid way. But here I am.

We meet him in the show as “a cold blooded soldier” stereotype and we learn in the end he was just deeply compassionate man (and a weirdo), who applied being a sociopath to be a better man of war. It just makes him very human - thanks to the fact his character was based on a real man, I guess. And that applies to all BOB’s characters.

And BIG kudos to Matthew Settle for doing such a great job and creating an iconic character. I read and watched some interviews, where he admitted he had a big problems with grasping the role, but damn, in the end he absolutely NAILED IT.

EDIT: Part II (x)

#band of brothers #ronald speirs #carwood lipton #i should have written Top 100 not 10 ;_;#part I

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yanderemommabean · 1 year

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Southern yandere being raised on those good morals and Christian values until they meet reader. Being the apple of the towns eye and everyone’s favorite golden boy turned into a savage mess when anyone dares to mess with his darling! Perverted once he see’s reader in revealing clothes for the summer (to beat that southern heat!). Suddenly he has to pray more often since only not so sacred thoughts come to mind when he thinks of you (which is ALL the time). The polite manners being CRANKED UP when they are in ur vicinity. The oh so bold flirting! BEING COURTED by the most desired guy in TOWN. And no one would help u girl, u think THE (his name) would bother stalking YOU? How pretentious. Knows how to court a lady but if you keep on playing hard to get he’ll just have to show you he’s the BEST and ONLY option for you.

“Well hello there August!” You say with a sweet smile, fanning yourself by tugging at your shirt as sweat seeps into the fabric. “What brings you by? Needing more chicken eggs?” you ask, used to the man asking for one or more things he could buy from you or help you out with. Always so courteous and gentlemen like, even when you insist he doesn’t have to be.

It’s sweet, you’ll admit. He’s been trying his best to be sweet and kind to you, even the town is beginning to think you’re all he worries about anymore. His duties often get neglected when you’re on his mind, which seems to be every hour of the day.

“No, no, I was just comin by to see why you’re working in heat like this. You could get killed if you aint careful y’know? Jesse nearly had a heat stroke a few days ago ‘cause he thought he could handle the stables all by himself”

You snort, dusting your hands off on your jeans “Well, I ain’t Jesse. Jesse needs to learn a thing or two about asking for help when he needs it too, I learned that lesson the hard way”. August laughs at that, tipping his hat as he does so. “Yeah, boy aint the brightest. I’ll give you that. You wouldn’t mind taking a break for sweet tea or anything would ya? I’d love to waste your time for a bit”.

Nodding, you begin to walk into your house, heading to the sink to wash your hands from the dirt and muck covering them from the chores. “I’ll make ya a glass in just a sec, let me get a bit cleaned up. You get your things done today? Pastor told me to yell at you a bit if you lagged behind one more time. Think he meant it too, ‘is face was redder than hell”.

August comes up from behind, wrapping his arms around you as you stand at the sink. Your face dusts pink as he lays his head on your shoulder, his breath right on your ear as he gruffly says “Don’t worry about what he says. I know what I’m doing, and how I’m gonna do it. Anyone gives you more trouble you come to me alright?”

The sudden playful mood felt more tense, his arms squeezing you tight against him as your voice struggled to come out. “You’re like a hen, I swear. I'm not some dainty little belle, I can tell a pastor off if I need to. Now sit down, I’ll make you a glass”.

You two sit and chat for a while, August giving you stares that you couldn’t quite read from time to time as you mention how your life here was going. He was a real sweetheart, a man of manners and good values, it’s no wonder the whole town loves him. But there's something there, stirring and growing, you just don’t know it yet.

It’s a dark, unleashed beast of a thing for sure.

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

Six months have passed since you’ve moved down here, and the winter seems awfully brutal. Your house is refusing to stay warm lately, and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re terrible with a wood cutting axe. Never could get the aim right.

As if on cue, the towns most beloved bachelor comes driving into your yard in his truck, practically leaping out as he runs to you with a worried and dare you say frustrated appearance. “What on earth has gotten into you? Put me down!” you hollered, being lifted up over his shoulder with ease as he carries you inside without so much as a hello.

“Me? What’s gotten into you? It’s below freezing and you’re out there trying to cut wet wood that won’t burn! You’re gonna get frost bite, and momma won’t let me hear the end of it if I let you get hurt!”

“For your information I was doing just fine!” you scold, being dropped down gently onto your couch as he stands over you, arms crossed over his chest. “...I ain’t moving until you promise me you won’t go back out there in weather like this”

“Unfair game to me. Seeing as alls I gotta do is tickle you in the right spot to get you out of my way”

“Dangerous game to play to me, seeing as your touch would do a bit more than tickle me” he says with a seductive tint to his voice, his face coming down to meet yours as you become more flustered “A touch from a sexy thing like you, wouldn’t make me move out of the way. It’d make me pick you up and show you how I wanna touch you too”

You both stay there for a minute, your eyes becoming playful and your tone more flirty as you lean closer, daring to kiss his lips. “Hmm. And what would your momma think if something happened before marriage?”

“Who says I can’t make you say my name without breaking that rule?”

“Oh now you’re just being a mean old flirt. Is this your way of warming me up? Cause as much as I like it, I do need to get work done”

August doesn’t budge. If anything, he seems determined to tower over you like this, keeping you in place. “I think you’d be better off at my house for a few days. Especially since the holidays are coming up and the weather is only gonna get worse” he says as if he didn’t just act like he would go a few rounds in the bedroom with you.

“We’ve talked about this-”

“I know. You’re worried about the animals and such. Never said I wouldn’t let you come by to do your stuff, I just think you need a place with actual heat since this place is clearly in need of more repair than we thought. It ain’t gotta be a month or nothing, just til we get it fixed”

You worry your lip, unsure and not exactly comfortable with just staying a few nights at his house. “The town will think we’re being a bit-”

“The town also thinks aunt Susie's pie is the best, but they ain’t right in that regard either” he cuts you off, taking your cold hand and kissing your fingertips softly “I won’t do nothing, I promise. I’ll even let the church and every gossiper in town have a piece of my mind if they start making you upset. Just please, let me keep you warm. It’ll break my heart if I know you’re suffering like this any longer”

His eyes are so sweet as they plead, and how he holds and warms your hands makes this deal all the more enticing. What can you say? You really have no other choice, and you’re so lucky to have him here for you like this. “A-alright, August. Just until we figure out why my heat aint working. No more than that”

Oh, just knowing you’d come willingly at all is more than he could’ve asked for. He hates having to force his hand in these situations, but it’s needed! That’s why he had to ruin your heating system, to show you that he’d be the better option in the long run and he could get you out of that shithole house faster.

But he won’t tell his little secret. The plan is to get you in his home, then in his bed, and in his arms. Town can think whatever they want, but no one would suspect him of sabotage and stalking. He plays his role very well, knows how to manipulate anyone who tries and ruin his chance with you. If they push too hard for you to leave, he might just stage another accident or two.

Whatever it takes to keep you with him and him only.

((HI! I hope this didn’t go too off the rails, I really enjoyed it! I hope you did too! -Mommabean))

#yandere male #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #mommabean #southern yandere #August my oc #my ocs

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