#why do I keep having to stress these points | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pathologicalreid · 3 days

Text

orange juice | S.R.

you and spencer have an announcement to make, but you're not quite sure how to do it

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: bau!reader, pregnant!reader, nausea and pregnancy symptoms, slightly protective spencer, mentions blood tests and doctors, not proofread word count: 906 a/n: this week has been so atrocious and awful and stressful!!! fuck cancer!! fuck student loans!!! i need spencer reid fluff!!!

“Drink it,” Spencer murmured, keeping his eyes trained on the file on his desk in front of him while noting the way you hadn’t so much as budged in his periphery. You were leaning a bit too far to the left, and the more he observed you, the more he worried that you were going to topple over. “It’ll make you feel better,” he prodded.

Your head jolted as he continued to watch you as if he had woken you from a deep sleep, “What? Sorry,” you mumbled, eyes focusing on the bottle of orange juice that he had placed on your desk upon your arrival at the BAU.

A laugh caught your attention as you slowly turned your office chair around, “Late night, pretty girl?” Derek quipped, winking in your direction before turning back to his own work.

Turning back around, you shared a look with Spencer while rolling your chair closer to your desk, hoping to be able to better prop your head up. The real answer was that you had an early morning, woken up by a roiling stomach courtesy of the first trimester.

Spencer had gotten up with you at five this morning and your queasiness showed no sign of faltering. Your stomach had nothing left to give by the time you went to your doctor’s appointment, but you assured your husband that you were fine when you arrived in Quantico after having your blood drawn.

The issue was that no one knew. Other than Hotch – for obvious personal safety reasons – no members of the BAU were aware that you were pregnant. It started as wariness, wanting to reach a certain milestone before letting your team know, but it quickly turned into a different form of anxiety. You hadn’t let your team know you were even talking about having a baby. Neither of you were entirely sure how to broach the subject or announce your pregnancy, so you didn’t.

Hidden in plain sight, resting on Spencer’s desk was a sonogram, a three-by-five, black-and-white photo of your baby, the two of you were simply waiting for a profiler observant enough to notice. You weren’t showing, yet, as you encroached upon the second trimester, you worried you were running out of time.

His theory was that your nausea was being exacerbated by low blood sugar, which is why he made sure to give you orange juice – you weren’t so convinced, orange juice was brutal coming back out.

You heard the familiar woosh of the glass doors to the bullpen swing as someone entered, the click-clack of Garcia’s heels snapping you back to attention, it was almost time for morning debrief. If you were lucky, you’d remain at your desk for the rest of the day. If your luck ran out, you’d have to pop a Zofran before getting on the jet.

Sighing, you rested your chin in your hand before going back to clicking through your emails, pausing for just a moment when Spencer reached across the short barrier between your desks and opened the bottle for you. To appease him, you took a small sip of the orange juice, pleased when you saw him settle in his desk chair.

“What’s that?” Garcia asked, nearly stumbling to a stop behind Spencer’s desk as her eyes snagged on something on the surface. “No, no I know what that is,” she continued, stammering and flicking her eyes between you and Spencer.

Penelope’s rising voice garnered the attention of other people in the bullpen, bringing them to your and Spencer’s adjacent desks. “What’s wrong, baby girl?” Derek piped up, making his way over and setting a hand on the back of your chair.

Pointing at you, the technical analyst wagged her finger as she made the connections in her brain. The doctor’s appointments and the sudden aversion to girl’s night made sense to her now, and you could see it in the way her gaze softened when she stepped around the desks in order to give you a hug, “Is that real?”

As you reciprocated her hug, you nodded, glancing over at your husband as you knew your secret was now out. “Yeah,” you mumbled into her blonde hair, “It’s real.”

“Would somebody please tell me what’s going on?” Morgan said, looking around, sharing a confused look with Emily but earning a ‘dude, really?’ look from JJ.

Releasing you from the hug, Penelope reached over the acrylic barrier, plucked the sonogram off Spencer’s desk, and presented it to the rest of the team Vanna White style, “Baby genius is imminent!” She announced, beaming at you and Spencer as you snuck around them to stand at his side.

One by one, Emily, JJ, and Derek embraced both you and Spencer, “Wait, how long has that picture been there?” Emily questioned, arching a dark brow at you and Spencer.

“Two weeks,” Spencer answered quickly, snaking an arm around you and resting a hand on your hip, squeezing it reassuringly.

You leaned into him slightly before nodding in affirmation, “Yeah, some profilers you guys are!”

Rolling his eyes, Morgan came back at you for another hug, holding you so tightly that your feet lifted slightly off the ground. “Woah, hey, be careful,” Spencer said, waiting expectantly for your coworker to let you go.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped back to where Spencer was standing while Emily spoke again, “Oh, he’s going to be insufferable by the end of this.”

1K notes · View notes

fagtainsparklez · 1 day

Note

Hey I've been observing from afar through your reaction blogging, I haven't been in mcyt as much since the dsmp ended but I still care about a lot of the people in the mcyt circle and I'm interested in what goes on - care to give a rundown of what happened at this twitch rivals thing everyone keeps talking about? (no pressure only if you want to) Aside from the fact I'm sure it was terribly run like most twitch rival events are, but it sounds like there was more to it than that

okay so. i am going to be missing quite a few details because i missed a day myself + my streamer could not care less, so i heavily encourage others to add on stuff i missed

this was a multi-day competition, running for 5 days with prize rewards from 1k to 100k. it started with i think 150 players, with select numbers of people getting eliminated each round. day 1-2 are fairly normal, at least for twitch rivals. of all the games that got played through the whole event, i'd say like 1 was actually good, and maybe 2 were decent, at best. most are bad, poorly-executed, poorly thought out, or just boring in terms of both player enjoy-ability and content creation.

DAY 3 EDIT:

now, sapnap's been sapnap for this entire event already. obnoxious, a bad sport, but most notably, playing DMCA'd songs. the event ran on proximity chat, so while he was unmuted, everyone around him would also be subject to said songs, which could mute vods at worst and terminate accounts at best. most people are fed up with him at this point. while everyone's trying to come up with solutions for the glitch, sapnap spams the discord with useless shit. couriway calls him out in the discord, calling him annoying and obnoxious, then later calling him a cunt in twitch chat. sapnap uses couriway and feinberg's name in his stream title for clickbait and talks shit about them + their friends (hbg/house builder gang). he also makes some weird comment asking if couri is homophobic because sap was talking about having skeppy's dick in his mouth?? or something?? i'm unsure exactly how day 3's issue of the glitch resolved.

day 4 is also your average experience with your usual range of average to horribly painful games. sapnap continues to be a bitch and not take responsibility for his stans attacking anyone in sight, but what else is new

day 5 is. bad. the game set for deciding the final competitors can be cheesed (if you let someone else do all the work, you can punch them in the last second and steal their win) and eliminates like 20 people at once. on top of that, a glitch happens that leaves the server on standby for at least 30 minutes while admins decide what to do. firebreathman sends a picture of a bare naked ass in the discord. someone else sends a photo of their debit card. streamers entertain themselves in various ways, including growing a cactus (fulham), playing osu (purpled), collecting other people's streams for their overlay (fruitberries), playing slime rancher (badboyhalo), and building real-life furniture (couriway). tubbo (who was already eliminated at this point) starts jumping between streams and asking in chat for the tea. the game is eventually replayed, deciding the final 4 players, but it's just as broken and at that point, no one wants to be there anymore. it's revealed through multiple streamers (purpled, i believe also feinberg) that twitch rivals games are not tested before being ran. the only testing done was a stress test to see if the server could handle all original 150-some players. this explains why the games are so bad and poorly organized (some games take over an hour, others barely 30 minutes).

the final four are sapnap, shadoune, sneegsnag, and i think feinberg. it's the most anticlimatic game of connect 4 you can imagine. sneeg eliminates sapnap, and shadoune eliminates fein. notably, fein's game glitches during a throw, which despite being obviously a glitch, the coordinators brush off as being "part of the game". fein and multiple other streamers spend time analyzing every pov frame by frame and all agree that yeah, that was a glitch. shadoune and sneeg are left for the finals. they come to an agreement that this is stupid and a horrible event. tired of this bullshit, they purposefully stall the games and run a podcast for approximately 2 hours, forcing the coordinators to bend to their commands hunger games-style. essentially since the first glitch of the day people were begging twitch to just split the money, something that wouldn't be easy according to tubbo, because everything is pre-signed and delegated before the event. sneeg and shadoune give no fucks, and force the coordinators to split the money anyway, winning the day through the power of friendship. i cannot stress enough how no one wanted to fucking be there by the end of all this.

#muse talk #bumble-punch #ask to tag #aaand scene #i think #this is very long i am sorry. a lot of shit has gone down.

970 notes · View notes

coff33andb00ks · 2 days

Text

Hopeless - LN

Lando Norris x fem!reader (mentions of Charles Leclerc x fem!reader) Summary: and you know damn well that for you, I would ruin myself a million little times Word count: 2012 Themes: angst, forbidden love(?) Warnings: cheating, charles is a bad boyfriend, cursing, Oscar knows everything, barely proofread, not a happy ending Notes: I watched one too many she chose me/did she? tiktoks and this was born. Also please don't take this as me condoning cheating (unless you can cheat with Lando).

Lando isn't one hundred percent sure how it began, not really. He remembers the first move, the bit of shock when you didn't reject him, but he doesn't remember how – or when or why – he fell for you. He knows he didn't just wake up one day saying to himself right today's the day I fall in love.

It all started so innocently. Right? He found out you liked gaming and casually invited you to his place to try out his setup when you mentioned you were looking to upgrade. He'd expected Charles to come with you but had shrugged it off, too excited to share his love for gaming. You stayed most of the afternoon, laughing and he'd had the tiniest of crushes by the time you left. And when you upgraded you asked him to come over to help you set it up.

Crush: intensified.

He's pretty sure he liked you so much because you didn't talk about racing with him. He could be "normal" around you, just like any other guy in his 20s who loved video games and driving fancy cars and blasting music. Soon he was dropping by or inviting you over on off days. He didn't think anything of it. You were a friend, and Charles obviously didn't mind, so why deny himself the pleasure of your company?

Crush: die-hard. To the point Max and Oscar teased him about it.

He likes you most in his apartment. On race weekends at a track you were calm, cool, and collected in designer brands, the picture perfect girlfriend of everyone's favorite Ferrari driver. But at his place, you were… Y/n. Yapping nonstop and dancing in his living room, curled up under a blanket on his sofa watching the latest period drama, in his kitchen baking treats he isnt' supposed to eat.

It was, he thought after hugging you goodbye one night, kind of like having a girlfriend without the stress.

He still dated. Casually. Because he couldn't justify putting all the time and effort into finding a girlfriend. It was so much easier to sleep around and be friends with you. Fucked up, yeah, but easier.

Then on an off weekend you showed up unannounced, looking like you wanted to cry.

And he would have done anything to keep that from happening.

"I just needed to get away," you said, and Lando nodded, letting you in and pretending the smell of your perfume didn't affect him.

You didn't want to talk about it and he didn't pressure you. He gave you the remote and fixed you a drink and parked himself on the other end of the sofa with his laptop to edit some photos while you found some old movie to put on.

"Lan?" you asked after a while.

"Hmm?" He didn't look away from his laptop.

"If Charles…" You sighed. "If he cheated on me you'd tell me wouldn't you?"

"Immediately," he said without hesitation. Then, as your words registered, he saved his progress and closed the laptop, slowly turning to look at you. "Do you think he's cheating?"

You shrugged, eyes firmly on the TV.

"Y/n. C'mon, talk to me." Lando set the laptop aside and picked up the remote to mute the TV.

"I'm just being stupid."

He waited, and then listened while you listed off the reasons you were considering that Charles was cheating. How he'd stayed out late the night before, had left early this morning for a last minute trip to the Ferrari factory. Facing you, he moved closer, until he could hold your hand. Then, when you finished, he rattled off the usual signs of cheating to see if anything matched.

You looked at him oddly. "Got a lot of experience with cheating?"

Lando giggled, as he always did when asked a stressful question. "What? Me? Nah."

"Fucking liar," you muttered, rolling your eyes.

"No, no, I never lie when I'm fucking," he said, wondering why the words were coming out of his mouth before he finished saying them. Glancing upwards, he pinched his brows together. "Well, wait, maybe I have… Like when it's mediocre but you need to get off so you say it's good?"

You laughed, which was always his goal with you. He loved your laugh, adored the way you threw your head back, and always joined in as soon as the snort you despised escaped.

"Oh god Lan," you giggled, and moved to hug him.

And he knew he was a goner. Because you felt so good in his arms. He hugged you close. He knew the healing power of a good hug but also held onto you for more selfish reasons, committing the feel of you tucked so close to his memory, breathing in the scent of you. Easing his grip as you began to pull away, he felt his breath catch in his throat when you paused, looking into his eyes.

"Thank you," you whispered.

"You know I'm always here for you." He smiled. He liked that he could make you feel better. Then, because he couldn't help himself, he had to go and ruin everything. Reaching up, he lightly smoothed your cheek with his fingers. "If he is cheating, he's a fucking moron. You're not even my girl and I can't find anyone that compares."

He still can't remember how you'd initially reacted. Surprise, probably. Maybe a little shock. But he would forever remember the way you'd breathed his name, as though Lando were a prayer, and that you'd both leaned in at the same time.

And he was certain that until his last breath he would recall every detail of what had followed. The kiss, everything pure and perfect, your hands on his neck. Him pulling you closer, both of you moaning. It had been frantic, every shred of neediness and longing pouring from his mouth to yours, every late night dream running through his mind, each fantasy he'd allowed himself to think of coming true before he'd tasted your skin.

You stayed the night, and he'd discovered that you'd fantasized, too.

***

"You good mate?"

Lando blinks, seeing Oscar in the doorway. "Yeah," he lies, rolling his shoulders. "Just thinking of strats for tomorrow."

"You've been listening to the same song for almost an hour."

Fuck. "No I haven't." He pauses the song, rubbing the back of his neck and finally moving to finish dressing. "It's a good song."

"What's going on with you? You've been acting weird for a couple months now," Oscar says.

Lando swallows the shame. It's not that he feels guilty. He's content with the arrangement between you. Not that anything is set in stone, but it's an unspoken agreement. You're still with Charles – who, it turned out, was cheating but it was a minor fling – and he's single. Technically. In his heart, he's yours.

He almost laughs because it's so beyond fucked up now.

But he can't let anyone else find out. He's been around long enough to know that you'd be the one labeled as a whore. Even though everyone's aware of Charles' infidelity, it would be your fault. And Oscar…

For someone whose entire persona is I really don't give a fuck I'm here to race, the bastard knows everything. He's like a cat. He's always there, and even when he's not listening he soaks it all in like a sponge.

He spritzes a little more cologne on himself and pulls on his hoodie. "Dunno what you're talking about, mate."

"You haven't gone out to celebrate since Miami."

Of course he hasn't. Miami was the night he'd gotten just drunk enough to dance too close to you. The secretly snapped pictures of his face in your neck are still popping up on social media. "It gets old after a while, Osc."

Oscar folds his arms over his chest and leans in the doorway. "For me, yeah. For you? Not buying it."

Goddamn the sponge cat for being so observant. Lando shrugs, maintaining he façade of yep I'm good. "Osc—"

"Is it because of y/n?"

Ice water floods his veins. He can feel the blood draining from his face and his palms begin to sweat. You've both been so careful, Miami notwithstanding. He never takes you out, makes a point to not sit too close to you in a group setting, and is his so-called normal self anytime someone else is around. It's different alone, but – oh. "You mean in Miami?" he asks casually, fixing his necklace and lifting his foot to tie his shoe.

"You were weird about her before Miami."

Oh god. "It was just a stupid crush." He ties his other shoe and checks his pockets for his wallet and hotel key. "I'm over it now."

"Lando."

"What?" He practically snaps the word out and instantly regrets it, but he can't talk to Oscar about this. Oscar will never be able to understand. "Look, I gotta go, need to get rest for tomorrow."

"Oh. I thought… I guess you are over it." Oscar gives a tiny shrug.

Lando freezes. "Why are you talking in riddles?"

"You didn't see them fighting?"

He jerks his head to stare at his teammate. When he speaks, his voice nearly cracks. "Fighting?"

"Well, arguing. I don't know what about, I didn't catch any of it. I only saw him trying to talk to her and she shoved him and stormed off."

No wonder you haven't replied to his texts. His hand aches to pull out his phone and call you to check on you. To make sure you're okay. You and Charles don't fight often but Lando knows of your tendency to go and cry until you figure out a resolution. "What did they fight about?"

"I don't know."

Lando swallows anxiously, pulling out his phone and checking the time. "Where'd she go?"

"No clue."

"You're really no fucking help," Lando mutters, shoving his phone into his pocket and brushing past him to leave the room.

"Thought you were over it?" Oscar asks softly.

Lando freezes again, anguish twisting in his chest at the thought of ever being over you. "I… She's my friend. It's… Y/n… She's…"

"She's what?"

Everything but his. Real and true and more than he ever thought he could have. His daily sunshine and his nightly fantasy. The open ear when he's having a rough go, the tight embrace when he needs grounding. His source of peace and his greatest torment.

"Fucking hell, mate," Oscar whispers.

"I gotta go," Lando says.

And he leaves, not sure why he feels so anxious all of a sudden. Everything feels off. He tells himself it's because Oscar knows, or at least thinks he knows, and that's got to be the reason. He's fine. You're fine. Nothing's changing just because you had a fight with Charles. It'll blow over and by morning things will be as they have been.

The trip to the hotel seems to take forever and he's even more uneasy as he sits in traffic a few cars back from the valet. He should have gotten an Uber or caught a ride with someone. Despite the air conditioning going he's sweating, because you still haven't replied to his texts, and when he tries to call you it goes straight to voicemail.

Hey y/n, call me when you can?

But you don't.

He stays up late, hoping you'll at least send him a text letting him know you're okay. His sleep is restless, plagued with the worst possible scenarios. When his alarm goes off he hits snooze one too many times and so has to rush to the track, trying to push everything out of his mind as race time approaches. Checking social media so he can engage with the team posts hyping up his and Oscar's starting positions, he can only stare at the screen when Instagram loads.

You. And Charles. Cozied up like soulmates. There's candlelight and flowers.

But all he can stare at is the diamond on your finger. And, just beneath the photo, Charles' short caption.

She said yes.

*~end~*

#f1 #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris imagine #my writings > ln

196 notes · View notes

sanjisblackasswife · 6 hours

Text

“𝔽𝕦𝕟𝕟𝕪 𝕄𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝔻𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕊𝕖𝕩 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕞”

A/N: I’m feelin ignorant rn.

Ft. Gojo, Geto, Toji, Choso, Nanami

CW: Mentions of sex and blood🧍🏾‍♀️

Toji

He got a cramp on his thigh when you were riding him, but he knew you’d literally cry yourself to sleep if he told you that so instead he just kept groaning really loudly. Plot twist: When he did finally tell you the next day you laughed and called him an old man…he was not happy.

He called you a bitch when you kept edging him and it was one of the first times you seen regret hit his face because he slapped his mouth and mumbled “‘sorry, babe.”

Geto

He was eating you out and you kept grinding your needy little body against his mouth and you were already on the edge of the bed. Geto told you time and time again to not do that it even costed you a few slaps to the pussy. This time he played along with you. You kept grinding and pushing and geto kept licking and going down up until you actually slid butt booty naked off the bed.

You were rushing to suck his dick for whatever reason and forgot how long and HARD your boyfriend’s dick was and since you were so close to his zipper when you pulled down his bottoms his dick literally slapped you in the face. Turned him on.

Gojo

I HC Gojo as a biter. AND that he has very sharp fangs that are borderline fangs so when he was sucking on your breast he got a little too excited and bit your nipple so hard he broke skin. He kept trying to convince you he could continue by just sucking the blood and it’ll feel better.

You and him got caught MULTIPLE times by Yaga at school to the point that now whenever someone sees you both go into a room Yaga sends some of his curse plushies to keep an eye on you both. Gojo managed to almost tuck you in front of said curse.

Choso

While eating you out he came in his hand and you didn’t notice when you got on top of him. He began crying almost immediately from overstimulation, but kept praising you to keep going. You were so confused why he didn’t tell you to wait, but when he admitted the pain felt so good you teased him and called him a masochist for it. He won’t admit that he might be one.

You got your period while having sex and Choso thought he hurt you. He remembered one time you got a cut on your finger and you sucked on it and it felt better. Your first time boyfriend and human not knowing the wiser pulled out, and began to actually suckle on your clit. It felt AMAZING until he looked up at you with a bit blood around his lips.

Nanami

Nanami has a very insufferable and clumsy coworker that he has to endure for about 8-10 hours of the day and he’s constantly having to call her name because it’s almost as if she has selective bad hearing. Usually he calls you during lunch and tells you about her to relieve some stress and i/ honestly so funny hearing Nanami try to speak as respectful as he can about a woman he can’t stand. However, Today she called her name about 65 times and tonight you were sucking him off, but began to choke a little and he groaned out of concern “Dammit, Abby!” He almost immediately turned RED. For a moment you caught yourself getting mad up until it registered whos name he said. You spent the rest of the evening laughing and hearing the consistent pleads of forgiveness from him

219 notes · View notes

rowretro · 18 hours

Text

𝕭𝖚𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖋𝖑𝖞 𝕶𝖎𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖘

✧warnings: Yandere/toxic themes, kidnapping, explicit stuff mentioned (this isnt my best writting im so sorry its been saur long, im working thru the reqs too<3 my drafts are filled w sm so stay tuned!!!)

❁synopsis: Sunghoon is feared by all, his name was enough to reinforce that fear, for he had grown to be a much more fearful mafia than his father, though one with morals, he never let women in his life, and he barely trusted anyone... until he saw a butterfly.

✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧

Sunghoon stepped out of his limo, suitcase loaded with cash. He was filthy rich, and he couldn't deny it, so seeing him give a suitcase of month everytime the orphanage needed money, he was happy to help. His face always had a cold look, but the children all loved him, they were only safe, and loved in a caring foster home just because of him.

The man got into his vehcile, sitting in the driver's seat as Jungwon stared at him. "I still dont understand why you don't hire a driver for yourself bro-" Jungwon simply asked as Sunghoon raised an eyebrow "The rest of you boys cant be trusted driving under stressful situations so you have one, I just dont need one." he simply said as he started his car. The man started driving, when his car came to a sudden halt.

There before him, a pretty girl "Bro- u almost hit that hottie-" Jungwon pointed out as Sunhgoon didnt even bother turning his way, his eyes glued on the girl who apologized, before gettign distracted again, chasing after the blue morpho butterfly. "Crazy bitch- fuck she scared me-" Jungwon mumbled as Sunghoon continued staring at the girl, lovestruck, the way she raised her hand, and let the butterfly sit on her finger, as she kissed near it.

"Jungwon. I want to know every little detail about that girl. where she studies, where she lives, what she likes, what she hates, everything." He stated as Jungwon frowned, yet complied. She was very pretty, her layered dark hair, her perfectly winged eyeliner, the way she walked freely like she didn't give a care in the world. Not to mention, she definitely had style. For the first time he fell in love. So he will have her fall for him.

It didn't take Jungwon too long, as soon as he got home, he printed out the necessary files "Her name is y/n, she lives with the Lee's, yes She's Lee Heeseung's sister. Her father owns many schools, and she studies in the one Heeseung teaches in, to be fair, you're going to have to get on Heeseung's good side if you want her, because they're looking to arrange a marriage for her." Jungwon concluded as Sunghoon smiled.

It was all so easy for him. She was just within reach. "What brings you here Sunghoon?" Heeseung asked as the male looked around the School grounds. "Oh? well uhm.... uhh... just looking for a potential threat in this college- He's hiding from me..." he lied as Heeseung nodded. "In that case keep an eye on my sister-" Heeseung replied as he pat his shoulder, and walked off to a group of loud students.

His eyes finally found her, a butterfly sitting on her cheek, and she didn't even flinch, still writting notes in her book. He took a seat in front of her, causing the butterfly to fly away. The girl looked up, tilting her head at him. "Mr Park! what brings you here.... you aren't going to kill me are you?..." She asked as Sunghoon snickerred "Of course not.... what could possibly lead me to hurting a sweetheart like you?" He asked, his hand softly holding her jaw, as he ran his thumb across her lips and cheek.

It's no surprise she knew who he was, he was the Park Sunghoon, everyone knows him. God her lips are so perfect, he was so soft, making sure not to smudge her makeup or hurt her. However y/n felt a little uncomfortable... She softly pulled away. She can't deny it, he's fucking gorgeous, fighting her intrusive thoughts of rubbing her thumb across his brows.

"I wanted to see how my pretty girl is doing. My pretty girl..." he smiled, as he placed a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Im installing a butterfly greenhouse in my garden just for you, Heeseung said you love flowers, I have a whole garden filled with jasmines, roses, lotuses and many other flowers you name it..." Sunghoon continued. It was all moving so fast, was this her fiancee her parents picked for her? why's he moving so fast? why him? is this a trap to kill her?

It was none of which... The Lee father fears Sunghoon, and Heeseung is like a brother to Sunghoon, after all the man did abuse Heeseung and y/n growing up, so when Sunghoon asked to marry her, Of course her parents wer happy with it, Mrs Lee believed he was a sweetheart. Heeseung wasn't too happy at first, but he wasn't a typical mafia boss, playboy with prostitutes every night, how bad could it possibly be.

"Uhm..... huh?" Y/n asked, not knowing what to say or ask. "You're parents are ok with me marrying you so, instead of circling around, im giving it to you straight." Sunghoon simply said "All you need to do is pack your belongings when you get home, you're moving in with me, your room will be right opposite mine, and we can talk about what you want in this marriage ok?" He asked as Y/n stared, stunned.

She was never told anything.... Why is everything going so fast? She was being married off to a blood thirsty beastly man who kills for a living?! As Sunghoon left, she sat there lost in thought. So she really was his?.......

✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧

96 notes · View notes

broomsick · 2 days

Note

Will the gods be upset with me if I do nothing for an entire year or more? Ive not tried to communicate, or left offerings or anything as im really not able to all the time.. and my mental health has not been all too kind. My nan also has dementia now so just been stressed and drained. Now and again each morning I will look toward my altar and say good morning to them. They are in my thoughts.

Why hello there, friend.

I’m so, so sorry to hear that you’re going through such a difficult time. There’s always mystery surrounding the thoughts of the Gods, the way they feel about our human lives and emotions. While it’s true that we can only grasp at what they think, there is also a great aspect of spiritual practice which we can all rely on to some extent: that is our faith, our instinct— in general, what our gut tells us.

And I personally believe that Gods care for us, no matter how often we can afford to make offerings, or how often we pray. I believe they care about us in spite of our flaws. I have actually shared more on my thoughts on the topic in this previous post, if you’re interested in hearing the reasons behind this belief. I’ve always thought faith was at the very core of polytheism, after all, none of us practice in exactly the same way, but all of us share one thing in common: belief in the Gods. And what you have been doing, just keeping them in your thoughts, even making the effort of saying hello every morning, is plenty enough already. I feel like the Gods sometimes act towards us like they act towards a friend: a friend wouldn’t blame you knowing all that you’re going through, right?

Now, I must also specify two things about this particular topic. The first is that I’ve never given credit to the idea that the Gods will get angry at every little “mistake”. Experience taught me that when somebody is trying to convince you that this or that deity is somehow “mad” at you, they’re very probably using a guilt tactic to manipulate you to some extent. And even if they’re not, then they’re still trying to make you adhere to their beliefs, thus placing them in a position of spiritual authority.

As I’ve mentioned, I’m no better than anybody when it comes to guessing at the Gods’ feelings. However, I’ve never heard of, or experienced a deity being somehow angry at one of their worshippers. Sure, this sort of occurrence appears in myth! But I’m always the first to point out that mythology and reality are fully distinct, and it’s important to draw that line when it comes to neo-pagan practice.

I hope you find in your heart that your deities do care for you very much. Sometimes it’s this faith that gets us through such difficult times of disconnect from spirituality. Every one us experiences these moments when we’re so busy we can barely spare a thought for our practice. But it’s nothing at all to feel guilty for. The amount of time we can dedicate to all aspects of our lives is variable. The Gods know this, and I believe they also know of our struggles as humans.

I hope you know that you’re so very resilient and strong, and that I admire you greatly for dealing with all of this, all the while keeping a thought for your spirituality. I hope you’re given all the care and support you deserve, and I believe your deities are right at your side, providing you with guidance and encouragement.

#ask #asks #paganism #spirituality #polytheism #deities #deity work #witchcraft #pagan

85 notes · View notes

whorety-k · 2 days

Note

Hello! If you get the inspiration to do so, would you write something with Roboute Guilliman + Gát from Azahriah. I think the song would fit him.

Also on another note, I love Ebony Coasts💜💜 Looking forward to the next part!

Nothing shows my absolutely awful schedule like Ebony Coasts having finished before I even got to your ask my love I am SO SORRY

I had never listened to anything in Hungarian before this point so this was actually really pleasant for me. This song got me in a mood to destroy that blueberry though, so please forgive me.

Pairing: Roboute Guilliman (40K) x gn!Reader

Song Inspiration: Gát - Azahriah [Youtube] [Spotify] [Original Hungarian] “Ezért nincsen bennem már szimpátia / Elmegyek én bárhova, ha hívnak / Mert érezni akarom, amit régen / Mert régen tönkrement valami bent / Valami bent, valaki bennem.”

[English Translation] “That's why there's no sympathy in me / I go anywhere if they call me / because I want to feel what I felt before / Because in the past something broke inside / something inside, something in me.”

Warnings: Angst, Guilliman’s struggle to adapt to a new Imperium, relationship falling apart, heated argument, hurt / no comfort

Word Count: 2.5k (THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE 1000 OOPS)

The office light was dim, drained of warmth. Roboute could barely keep his eyes focused on his papers anymore, with how each stack continued to mesh and meld together in his mind. A request for aid in the Yannsi system. Reports of ork activity along an Imperial supplyway. Another noble house asking for his audience for a vaguely stupid reason in their horse-and-pony show. With a sigh, he pushed the expensive looking envelope off of the table and into the waste bin.

Guilliman grew tired of it all.

But, in the name of the Imperium, he pushed onwards. Sheet after sheet, datapad after datapad, vox after vox.

He nearly missed the knock that rapped against the frame of the office doorway, timid and gentle. How he hadn’t seen them enter was either a show of focus or a token to his weariness, usually laser-focused senses dulled as day after day of piling issues droned by. Guilliman picks his head up out of his hands, rolling loose circles into his temples with his index and middle fingers. “Come in,” he beckons.

Your quiet footsteps echo in the chamber built to the size of a primarch. The scents of exhaustion and old sweat permeate the air, for even a being handcrafted by the Emperor himself is subject to the soil of exertion.

Guilliman’s eyes soften substantially from their stress-induced glower as you draw near, but it’s not enough to fully smooth the deep-set furrow in his brow, or the everlasting scowl on his face. “My love, has something happened that needs my attention?” he inquires, leaning forward to get a better look at you. You stand before him in your favorite robe: a simple yet practical garment that he had gifted you for a holiday celebration, ultramarine blue silks embroidered with golden laurels along the neckline. He would give you so much more if you didn’t feel so guilty at receiving his affections, always so concerned with any excess spending given the state of the Imperium. He was too— more than you ever could be— but you were supposed to be his space away from the mess. It frustrated him to no end to be reminded of his family’s failings when he was actively trying to find an escape from it, and especially because he shouldn’t have you.

You should have been long dead. After the failed Siege of Terra and the end of the Heresy, Guilliman had found you, a noble agent, desperately working far beyond your capacities within the Imperial Palace to keep things running. A tense friendship blossomed into an awkward, complicated relationship with private moments stolen whenever fate would allow. Neither of you were able or willing to put a label to it, given your pre-existing devotion to fixing the weakened state of the Imperium. Your knowledge of the parties both behind and beyond the Imperial walls proved invaluable to helping the Ultramarines hold it together, and Guilliman could not have been more grateful for your help. Roboute planned to express his gratitude and formally request your hand after your return from a diplomatic mission to help secure support from some of the world less affected by the heresy.

He never got the opportunity to do so. On the return voyage to Terra, your ship had been ambushed and knocked loose of its path in the warp. Your anticipated arrival date had come and passed, and no one heard any word from your vessel. Within an instant, any hope of creating a better future with you had been indirectly or directly ripped from him by his traitorous brothers, just as it had been before.

Roboute thought he had all but moved on by the time he was struck down by Fulgrim, thought had finally shaken the silent longing when he finally awoke from his ten millenia stasis into the disaster the Imperium of Man had become. The hellscape he has been thrust into gave him no time to dwell on any of the things he had lost ten-thousand years ago. It did not matter how hollow or angry he felt when everyone galaxy-wide was demanding something of him, and who better than the Avenging Son to fill the role?

The day the vox came in that a ship with a downright ancient signature had entered Terra’s orbit is one he would never forget. Guilliman was prepared to have it destroyed, certain that the vessel had been overrun with chaos, but the sound of your voice asking for him over the vox channels stopped him. His hearts seized in his chest when you recognized him.

Roboute, is that you?

It’s been years. We just found a way out.

Roboute, can you hear me?

“Roboute.”

His head snaps up from his daze, not noticing how he had begun to nod off, lost in his ruminations. He hadn’t made the mistake of not asking for your hand soon enough a second time. The stern tone of voice alerts him that he’s missed whatever you had said before, and he sits forward again to reengage.. “I’m sorry, love. I am listening,” Roboute says, letting out the breath he had been holding.

You shake your head, gaze falling to the floor for a brief instant before your eyes find his again. “I asked you to come to bed, Roboute. You haven’t left the office for days, and I know you’re tired.” You call attention to his lapse with a gesture of the hand.

Guilliman’s scowl deepens, looking down at the paper before him on his desk. As tempting as that offer was... “I cannot, love. I am sorry.”

“Will there be a day I don’t hear that?” you rebut, stepping closer to his desk. Your head only barely hovers above it as you come near, resting a hand on the varnished wood. “Or shall I keep hoping?”

The primarch scoffs, taken aback at the rhetoric. He didn’t dismiss you that often… did he? His blue eyes burn into yours, expression hardening. “My work is important. It isn’t something I can just stop and abscond from. You know this.”

You fold your arms in response, doubling down. “Are these the conditions in which you can do your best work? Barely able to keep your head up?”

For once, Guilliman can’t argue. His shoulders are tight, his neck tired and sore from staring down at a desk for longer than a baseline human could even stay away without death. His eyes stopped burning after a certain point, now nearly numb. He tries to blink the feeling away, only to struggle with opening his eyes again.

It doesn’t go unnoticed under your gaze. “Come to bed, Roboute,” you plead, resting your chin upon his desk. Sapphires of the softest cobalt land on you, and you reach a hand out toward him. Your drowsy voice continues, “I hardly ever see you outside of this dreaded space. I don’t remember the last time we shared a bed together.”

His massive hand dwarfs your own when he takes it, stroking the delicate skin of the back of your hand. “I would like to join you– truly, I would– but I cannot afford to step away from this,” Guilliman asserts, voice gentle yet firm in his decision.

Your expression falls, as it always does. Guilliman expects you to nod your head and concede as you normally did, letting go of your hand to pick up a pencil once more. He finds the starting line of the report and begins to peruse the document. The Lord Governor of the—

“When will it be enough?”

Guilliman tenses up, tearing his gaze away from the words he was reading. Your voice completely blindsides him, and he isn’t even sure if he’s certain he heard what you said. “I’m sorry?” he asks.

“When will you have done enough, Roboute?” you repeat, stepping away from the wooden desk. As your full body comes into view, he can see how your limbs tremble with emotion. “When will you have reached a point that you are truly satisfied with what you’ve done?” you challenge, crossing your arms over your chest once again. Your knuckles blanch with the force you grip yourself with.

It’s the second time you manage to render Guilliman completely speechless. When is enough, enough? He gawks as he looks you over, eyes jumping between your upset form and the page before him. It’s a question he didn’t allow himself to dwell on, unable to find a satisfactory answer. It has been, is, and always will be his responsibility to convert the raw data of a problem into something with a detailed solution; it was his strongest skill as a leader. He can stop when there are solutions.

You interrupt his train of thought with another siren call, holding eye contact as you tempt him away once more with your sweet voice. “Your standards you hold yourself to are honorable, but even the great Roboute Guilliman, son of the Emperor of Mankind, requires his rest.”

And by the throne, he does. He well and truly does. Guilliman could use another ten thousand years in status if it wouldn’t make his problems any worse. Instead, though, he’s content to finish one more paper and go to bed. Finally, he nods, pushing aside a stack of documents to start tomorrow. It seems that Roboute would be the one conceding today, muttering, “I will join you shortly.”

Unfortunately for him, you aren’t having any of it. “No, you will come now,” you demand, putting your foot down. You continue, stern tone softening, “Please, if not for you, take care of yourself for me.”

The words make Guilliman’s head throb, irritation threatens to flare within him as the words cause an uncomfortable roiling within his chest. He buries his head into his hands with a grunt– it’s all he can do to prevent an annoyed growl of, “everything I do is for you,” from leaving him. Instead, he takes a deep breath and tries to cool his temper. “This final document is just a report from another world. It won’t take me long,” he promises.

“Then it can wait until tomorrow,” you argue, fed up with the barrage of excuses to continue. “I am serious, Roboute. One world’s ‘report’ is not the end-all, be-all of the Imperium. I know that you are under a lot of strain to fix the mess we’re in–”

Guilliman abruptly sits up, chair flying back as he stands to full height. You can barely perceive the flash movement before the clash of the chair hitting the wall makes you jump. “And you could possibly hope to understand?” Guilliman spits, slamming his hands onto the table. The shout of the primarch instinctually drowns you in dread, and you’re unable to stop the reflexive trembling that kicks in as you stare up at him. Guilliman is furious, all of the signs of exhaustion he had exhibited so plainly before replaced with vitriol. He continues, voice laced with venom, “You could hope to understand what it is to be left with the bloated corpse of my father’s legacy, forced to pick up the pieces as nothing but a tool in his stead as everything he fought for has been so thoroughly perverted? When the mere thought of how things were before is now heresy, despite those fanatics worshiping a book written by a traitor?” His breathing labors, desk creaking precariously with the force he’s exerting upon it. At your lack of response, Guilliman scoffs again. “No,” he growls, turning away, “your mind couldn’t begin to fathom the depths of the pressure placed upon me.”

Your eyes burn with tears, cheeks warm and wet. The outburst leaves you completely shaken, clutching at your sides like a cornered animal. The sight alone fills Roboute with remorse, but you don’t give him the chance to apologize. “I was there,” you utter through shaky breaths. Roboute’s mouth clamps shut. “I lived the old Imperium, picked up the pieces of it beside you. Do you think this has been easy for me?” you press, unable to look the primarch in the eye. “I spent five years in the warp, unsure of whether or not I would ever leave it. Would I die there? Would I find a fate worse? What if one of your brothers was to find me?” Each word punches him in his chest, hearts heavy with the weight of instant regret. He can see how you tremble as you relive what you went through, all at the cost of his loud mouth. “I never gave up, even when so many others had, driven to insanity or the depths of depression. I continued to fight when even the Astartes had one-by-one resigned themselves to fate.” Hot tears roll down your cheeks, and you begin to find confidence in your words as your fear turns into rage, jabbing an accusatory finger in Guilliman’s direction. “I survived to find you again, and I have done nothing but stand by your side and help you try to make heads or tails of the absolute fucking mess we’re in. Does that mean nothing?”

Guilliman doesn’t look away from you as you verbally lash into him. Despite his pride, he knows you’re right. You haven’t truly been wrong once this evening, and in his stubbornness, he has only managed to make everything worse for the both of you. “I didn’t mean it like that—”

“Of course you didn’t, because you’ve only been thinking about yourself and what will become of you. Will your torment ever end?” you spit back, cutting him off. He bows his head, lips drawn tight. Tense silence fills the room as your words hang heavy in his mind. You shake your head, letting out a muffled sob. “I will be in the bedroom when you remember yourself, Roboute Guilliman.”

With that, you turn on your heel and march out of the room, leaving Guilliman alone in the office with his thoughts. He can only stare at the doorway before the rush of the moment leeches out of him, causing him to slump down into his chair. Guilt claws in his chest, up his throat like an angry badger. His head spins as it fills with everything he should have said, should have done, instead of making a damned fool of himself. The rift between the two of you grew evermore.

Guilliman picks up his pencil from the floor, drawing the planetary report in front of him so he can focus again on the only thing he’s actually sure he’s worthy of anymore: fixing logistics.

#roboute guilliman #roboute guilliman x reader #guilliman x reader #ultramarines #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #warhammer 30k #primarch #primarch x reader #warhammer fanfic #raven lady writings

57 notes · View notes

nyxi-pixie · 13 hours

Text

do you guys ever think about beast mori saying that ruling by fear is the most barbaric thing an adult can do.

because i do.

in canonverse, we see that he uses this kind of strategy with yosano. keeps her in line by keeping her terrified, and it works up until the point that she loses her mind. she wants to stop and he kills a man in front of her to force her hand. ruling by fear but the barbarism of it drives her to insanity. and then shes no use at all.

with the mafia, his strategy is different. he keeps his best players in line through the creation of family dynamics. the way the gifts are given when someone joins gives you a physical item tying you to whoever brought you in and we see that clothes represent loyalty a Lot in bsd (mori giving dazai his coat, dazai giving aku his, chuuya getting the hat - which in turn has its own insane connections between rimlaine).

on top of that, theres a lot of stress on group dynamics within the mafia. the ada, aside from kunikida and dazai, doesnt have set partnerships or groupings. they send whoever with whoever. in the mafia, people tend to keep to smaller groups (the black lizard + higuchi, dazai + chuuya, chuu kouyou and mori, the flags, etc)

theres interaction between everyone ofc but theres a lot more focus on these groups, and that means people spend more time w specific people and grow very attached to them. its why higuchi stays, its why tachihara chooses the pm over the hunting dogs when it comes down to it, its a pretty big reason for why chuuya and kouyou havent left despite formerly both wanting to.

dazai and kyouka get out, but dazai has to lose someone like family Knowing that mori not only let it happen but planned for it. him leaving isnt the betrayal it wld be under other circumstances, bc hes been betrayed first (or at least. in his eyes. i have a separate essay on that but. not the time) and with kyouka, shes so isolated during her time in the mafia it seems she didnt rlly have time to grow those connections (and even then, she still had the dynamic with kouyou. its Hard for her to get out and it takes a lot of outside help and shes so young that the mafia hasnt had time to take root.)

and its just interesting to me that mori learned from his mistakes with yosano and has so many more people tied down because of it. the way he interacts with her now still ironically seems to be falling into that habit. hes so open with asking dazai to come back but with yosano there has to be an air of danger attached. perhaps because he knows theres no way he can ever win her loyalty without force, and hes perfectly fine doing the most barbaric thing possible if he thinks it will save the people he wishes to save. he chose to become a doctor in the first place after all, its no wonder her ability is so important to him

#thinks about beast mori. explodes #mori ougai #bsd #oh look the essay ive been waiting to post #analysis

46 notes · View notes

blorboazula · 1 day

Text

part 2 of this, so more of the "and who knew spitting blue fire during a mental breakdown might cause damage?" AU because some people liked it. I guess cw for more detailed mentions of burn and implied past child neglect. (buy me a coffee)

Katara's not surprised that the room smells like jasmine and bonfire smoke, the princess smells like jasmine and bonfire smoke – not that Katara paid any attention, they simply stood almost close a few times. Like right now. Like right now when she's sitting on the bed, Azula in front of her and patiently watching her.

There's curiosity there, behind the instinctual apprehension, Katara ignores it. She hasn't noticed that there's specks of glimmering, pure gold among the sea of bronze so dark it looks brown sometimes. Any other situation, it'd all feel oddly intimate. Healing has that power sometimes, holding someone's life under your fingertips.

Katara focuses on not showing it on her face: the damage is nearly catastrophic.

Katara has seen terrific burns before, fresh and healed, she grew desensitized to it for her own sake. She never saw internal burns. People aren't meant to survive fire melting the flesh inside them.

No wonder Azula doesn't talk, what's supposed to be delicate vocal chords is a mess of scar tissue. It explains her general lack of firebending, or could be one of the reasons, there's no way Azula is breathing properly when the inside of her throat is narrowed by the tissue.

Katara has assumed the tenseness on her shoulders is from the general stress of her current predicament. She assumed the slight grimace that seemed set on her face has been some sort of discontentment with her situation. But then the water glows around her neck and Azula just relaxes.

All this time, she has been in pain all this time.

Katara pulls the water away, palliative care like this tends to last for a few hours, she can do the same again later the next morning. She doesn't dare poking around, testing if she can make Azula's throat just a little less swollen. She has messed around with a small scar on her thigh, one she doesn't remember why she has, and it has made it hurt and look even worse. She doesn't want to risk what might happen to Azula if she does.

Once the water is back on its pouch, Azula gently touches her own neck. She looks at Katara with what seems like some sort of thank you, or at least as much as a thank you a look can be from a princess like her.

"Do you have any other old scars that still hurt you?" Her hand moves to her shoulder but then she places both, fists tight, on her lap and shakes her head. "I wouldn't... I wouldn't mind." She shakes her head again. "Can I check your wrists then?"

She frowns, but allows. The scars are almost worse than she expected, but they have been somewhat taken care of during the healing process, they're almost faded at this point, not as deep and unattended as the one in her throat. Katara's fingers flex, in her brain, somehow, she imagined the chains leaving imprints where she had wrapped her wrists and forearms.

"Your armor burned you," she whispers. She looks up, Azula looks at her like she's saying yes, obviously. She has seen the armor in a leap of deformed metal. "They didn't check your throat for injuries? If they treated everything else."

A person shouldn't look so... nonchalant about medical neglect.

(Azula looking somewhat surprised by Katara asking if she was in pain flashed in her mind.

When was the last time someone genuinely cared about her well-being?

No surprise you were acting like that.)

"I can do healing sessions a few times a day, keep most of the discomfort away," she hopes Azula hears the I know there's more things bothering you, and I'll make you tell me. "But I can't heal any of it, I'll make everything much worse for you."

She seems impressed enough by the offer of help for the pain, so it's not like she'll demand for healing. In position to demand or not, she looks like the kind that would be quite the inconvenience about it.

Katara eyes her shoulder, one of the burns from that Agni Kai? A training accident or a wound from the war? Or maybe a too-warm hand on her shoulder, paired with honey-leaking words from the forger of a weapon.

"I'll take my leave now," she's almost reluctant at letting go of her warm, soft hands. She does, after a moment. "Tomorrow we'll do it again. Have a good night, your highness."

#azutara #pre-azutara #atla fanfic #i need an actual title #atla azula #atla katara #katara can only soothe her discomfort actually #look in my head it makes sense that Azula managed to overheat herself and the armor enough to be burned by the metal #basically girly was cooking inside the armor

28 notes · View notes

lisenberry · 2 days

Text

Blend In

Suggestive/Explicit Language, Mystery 141 x F!Reader.

MDNI!

1111k words (heavy on the -ish)

For @the-californicationist Nameless Challenge!

Congrats on 500K words, Cali!!

Put your guess in the comments as to who you think it is!

You had no idea why you’d been chosen for this assignment, but you were not going to argue. Certainly not with him.

Keeping any doubts to yourself, you checked the mirror in the bathroom one last time before exiting into the hotel room you shared with your teammate. Well, not your teammate yet, but if all went well, your fingers were crossed for a spot on his elite task force.

“What do you think, sir?”

As a mere corporal, just about everyone had a higher rank than you. There was the distinguished Captain Price, Lieutenant Riley, Sergeant Garrick and Sergeant MacTavish. Big (huge) shoes to fill, but you were ready to prove yourself.

“It’ll…do,” he muttered, turning his head quickly towards the surveillance equipment set up on the nearby desk. “And don’t call me that. We’re undercover, remember?”

“Do I get a code name or something? You all have badass nicknames, and I’m just...the new girl.” You shrugged your shoulders and tried not to fuss over the plunging depth of your neckline that barely covered your pushed-up boobs, or the uncomfortable way the fabric hugged your hips.

“No, New Girl is the new girl. You’re—Ah, fuck. Here we go. Time to get out there.” He picked up something on the camera feed of the hotel’s ballroom and pointed to it with his finger. “Target’s moving.”

“Who picked this dress? I thought I was supposed to blend in. It’s obscene for a wedding.”

“Not for an oligarch’s wedding. Tits up, back straight, and do your job.” He gave you one last look over, dragging his gaze up to meet yours, finally, before giving you an encouraging nod.

“Aye, aye. Sir.” You couldn’t help but add the last with a bold smirk. Maybe it was the dress, or the mission, or the unexpected glint in his eye, but you had a good feeling about this.

********

You’d been gone for only ten minutes, and he was already doubting every aspect of this assignment. As the only fluent Russian speaker who didn’t scream special forces in the ranks, you’d been the easy choice. But you were also soft around the edges, and sweet as hell, with a smile and an inner kindness that would lower anyone’s defenses.

What the fuck you were doing in the military, or how you’d made it this far, he had yet to figure out.

He’d only agreed to this at all because the stakes were low, as was the risk of danger. All you needed was a cigarette butt or a discarded champagne glass. A piece of cutlery left behind on a tray. Even just a partial fingerprint would be enough for Laswell to make a positive ID.

He was not prepared for you to strike up a conversation with the third most lethal psychopath on the watch list, or let him put his hand on your ass and squeeze you close to his hips as he whispered suggestively in your ear.

“Careful, sweetling,” your commanding officer gritted low into his radio. The comms device in your ear was undetectable, but he didn’t want to startle you or alert the target that you were in contact with someone.

It could also pick up your conversation, not that he understood any of what you were saying. It seemed to be mostly flirty banter and coy laughter. The man was obviously trying to get in you back to his room.

He didn’t know much Russian, but he knew enough about men’s appetites to get the idea. He’d had his own thoughts, just the good sense not to say them out loud.

And he could not believe what he was seeing on the camera. A sudden, sinking flood of anxiety made him jump in his chair and clench his fists at the stress. You were going with the man, following him as he escorted you out somewhere beyond the surveillance feed.

“Do not leave that ballroom. I can’t track you out there. Get back. Abort!”

He knew you could hear him, but you weren’t following orders. Being ignored was most certainly the root of his blinding rage, not his concern for your safety. Or the hungry way the bastard had looked at you in the dress he’d handpicked himself for the way the color made your skin practically glow.

The cut and size may have been a miscalculation, he admitted to himself, as he checked the clip in his handgun and hurried toward the door.

“Fucking hell. You’re going to get yourself killed, and if you don’t, then I’ll do it myself. When I get my bloody hands on you, Cupcake, I swear—”

“Cupcake? That’s the best you can do?” You stood on the other side of the door, with your hands on your hips as he pulled it open, with a fierceness you’d only heard about from other recruits.

Suddenly directed at you, it was worse than you’d imagined. He looked ready for war as his words caught in his throat.

“There you are. You’re alright?”

“I got his prints on my purse, his DNA on my tits, and a retina scan on my phone. And his phone, for shits and giggles.” You quickly held up your loot for his inspection, before he could catch his breath long enough to lecture you on your recklessness.

He swiped a big hand along his mouth for composure, but he still looked like he wanted to kill something. Mostly you.

“DNA?” His eyes darkened quickly, somehow even more than before, as he looked from your face to your aforementioned tits.

“Saliva, big guy. I’m committed, but not that committed. Calm down.” But he didn’t of course, because you’d never actually seen him relaxed. At least not around you.

You’d heard stories that he was a generally likable bloke once you got to know him. Earned his trust. Maybe someday you would get to see that side of him. From the looks of it, this wasn’t it.

“Your country thanks you for your service.” He deadpanned, not appreciating your snark.

“What about you, sir? Did I make the team?” You shifted on your heels hopefully, still brimming with energy from knocking out a man twice your size, watching him piss himself, and staging the scene to look like he’d passed out on his own.

“I’ll put in a request to my commanding officer as soon as we get back.”

“Really?” You stifled the urge to hug him in your excitement.

“No. You’re never allowed to leave the base again.”

You weren’t deterred as you rolled your eyes and stuck out your tongue behind his back. You’d wear him down. One way or another.

#cali’s nameless challenge #call of duty #141 x reader #task force 141 #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #johnny soap mactavish #captain john price

39 notes · View notes

sunshineandspencer · 1 day

Text

Coffee dates (Iridescent, Part 3)

A/N: I don’t know how to enemies to lovers, why can’t we all just be friends. Again, I haven’t seen past season 10, I don’t know how it works or who is present so if there are mistakes you can blame showrunners for making me too nervous to keep watching <3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!OC.

Summary: Their last coffee date before finally getting back to the office, he’s bored and wants to find out what she’s been working on.

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: swearing, spencer is an ass™

Parts: Pt1, Pt2

Let me stress, this is not Maeve from the show, but my own Maeve just named the same to send Spencer into hell whenever he thinks about it.

They’re getting close to the end of his probationary period now, and the thought of getting back to the office, and back to catching psychos was intoxicating.

Sure, she enjoyed his lectures, but not nearly enough to deal with him for longer than she had to.

There’s only one of his lectures left, and yet she still finds herself completing the last assignment he gave just like all the rest. It’s due today and mostly completed, but she just wanted to tweak a few things and add some more references. Working quietly next to him in the campus cafe as always.

He’s realised before, but now that his time was coming to a close, he was properly aware of the fact that she was always working. On all their little coffee dates - he refuses to call them that, and she only does it to piss him off - between their lectures, she’s always writing.

So far that’s been perfect, because he didn’t want to talk to her unless absolutely necessary, neither did she. The two of them avoid conversation like the plague and have silent coffee dates in his breaks.

However, he has no marking left, and finished his book, he is bored and wants to annoy her.

A quick text told him that it’s paid leave for her, which he didn’t know until now but makes the fact that she actually put up with him make sense, and means that she isn’t going over casework. He’s dying to know what it is.

When he sends her off for another round of coffee, he barely even waits for her to turn the corner towards the till to reach out and snatches the page she had been writing on.

Surprise turns him cold to find that it’s his work, set in the lectures that he expected his students to complete. Not only that, but he recognises the writing style, and she had been giving in work as someone called ‘Maisie’, lying about who she is.

Of all the people attending his lecture, he certainly didn’t expect her to do the work, much less under a different name.

Especially when the writing is so.. Good.

Maeve finally came back, sitting down and sliding his coffee across to him, not even batting an eye that he had her work in his hands. Sipping her coffee and feeling the immediate bitter tang of caffeine. Setting her own mug down and shrugging at his questioning tone.

“You’re completing the work I set?”

“Yeah.”

Part of him wondered if she would try to lie, wanting to determine what he could get from profiling her if she did. Expectedly, however, expected her to tell the truth, it’s definitely on brand for her. Suck up.

“Why?”

“I’m not allowed casework when I’m with you, in case you try to involve yourself.” Glaring at him, considering they had proved Emily right by inserting himself uninvited into her work the minute he got bored and she turned her back. Cons of working with profilers, he supposes. “I needed something to do or I would’ve gone crazy. Besides, I felt like you’d want someone completing the work because they enjoy the lecture, not because they think you’re pretty.”

He stared at her for a moment, really using all 187 points of his IQ to take in what she said, then shook his head. Placing the sheet back on the pile and picking up his coffee.

“My students don’t find me attractive.”

Honestly, he’s a little offended by the way she scoffed at him.

“The room is 80% women, they don’t even pay attention half the time, they just stare at you and your hands.” His hands? Now it just feels like she’s projecting, but she doesn’t stop talking yet. “One of them didn’t even complete your last assignment. She just handed in an A4 piece of paper with her number on, it was titled ‘Call Me’.”

He remembers, and he didn’t even look at it long enough to remember the number. The past minute of conversation feels like it shouldn’t be real. Blinking softly in confusion and trying to subtly glancing down from her to his hands and then back again.

Deciding to just hum softly, as if it wasn’t actually something new to him. Picking up his coffee to finally take a sip, irritatingly perfect - God he wished she didn’t try so hard.

“And you?”

“Me?”

“You’re a woman.”

Lifting her head, the look on her face was a picture. Feeling that, had he spoken in Dutch, he probably would’ve gotten the exact same facial expression.

“Am.. I supposed to congratulate you for correctly identifying that I’m a woman?”

He scowled over at her, and that’s a lot better. Their little coffee dates over the last 30 days had been spent mostly silent aside from snide comments and scowls, she wasn’t used to all this conversation from him. So getting him back to scowling again felt like progress.

Until he leant in, a smug grin settling on her face again that she was quickly coming to hate.

“No. But~ surely, if you’ve noticed them finding me attractive, doesn’t that mean you think I’m pretty as well? Hm, little assistant?”

Thankfully, she doesn’t even miss a beat.

“I’d rather make out with a pencil sharpener than you, Doctor Reid.”

Spencer couldn’t help the scowl on his face, even though he was still very smug on the inside. She so gets off on calling him that.

But she got up, and that startled him slightly, watching as she started to pack away her work into her bag. Eyes darting to his, meeting his scowl with a smug grin of her own for managing to get back at him again. Hoping, desperately, that he doesn’t notice that she didn’t actually answer his question.

“Your last lecture is starting soon, hurry up.”

Of course she thinks he’s pretty, but that doesn’t mean she likes him. And she certainly isn’t going to admit it to his face.

Want more?! Good!

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader

33 notes · View notes

bloody-peach · 2 days

Text

Penny for Your Sins: A BNHA League Of Villains x F!Reader series - Part 2: Shigaraki

~~~♡♡♡~~~

Goodie Bag: bondage, groping, vaginal fingering, drugging (aphrodisiac), nipple teasing, oral sex (m receiving), dom Shiggy, dirty talk, masturbation, vaginal sex, creampie, hair tugging, deepthroating, cum swallowing, he has his thumb on your tongue at one point, corruption [let me know if i miss anything!]

Now Playing: Closer by Nine Inch Nails, Lesser Key by Pale Horse, Eat Me Drink Me by Marilyn Manson,

Chapters (not in any order, except intro/outro):

START: Intro

• Shigaraki (you are here)

• Dabi

• Twice

• Mr. Compress

• Spinner

• Toga

END: Outro

A/N: No notes. Just enjoy!

~~~♡♡♡~~~

You looked at the calendar and saw it had been a few weeks since you got the ‘job’ of being the League of Villains’ stress reliever. Luckily, you’ve been following everyone’s orders when made and been doing a good job comforting everyone. You wondered when you’d meet their leader...

One night, you were in bed reading a book when you heard something rustling. You walked over and saw that someone slipped an envelope under the door. You got up and walked over to the door, bent down and grabbed the envelope, opening it. Inside was a single tea bag and a note. 'Drink me,' the note read. You smelled the tea bag and could smell peppermint and lavender. It smelled so good, you immediately got your hot water dispenser out and prepared the tea. Once the tea was finished brewing, you got a cup and poured some inside. You took a sip and smiled, loving the taste. You walked back to bed and got back to reading, sipping the tea occasionally. Not long after you finished your drink, you noticed that something was off... Tea wasn’t supposed to make you this relaxed and dizzy, was it? The words on the page were starting to swirl and warp as you tried to keep reading, but the effects were too strong. You wondered if someone spiked the tea bag before you fell back on the bed, blacking out.

You start to wake up, your body still feeling relaxed and warm, but you could feel you weren’t in your bed anymore. You felt your arms held up in the air, something cold and hard wrapping around your wrists, and your feet barely touching the floor. You opened your eyes and you saw you were chained by your wrists, dangling from the ceiling. You looked at yourself and noticed you only had your panties and bra on. “W..what...what’s going on..?” you asked, your speech slightly slurred. You saw something from the corner of your eye and turned your head. There was someone sitting in an armchair, hidden in the shadows. You heard them chuckle as they stood up and came out from the shade. It was a man, with white hair and piercing red eyes. You noticed he was much taller than you and he had a fit, muscular body, your blush growing as you look at him. He smirked, enjoying your gaze. “My, my.. You’re a real pretty thing, aren’t you?” he finally said, his voice a bit raspy.

“Who are you...?” you asked. He smiled and responded as he walked to stand in front of you, “Who am I? I’m Shigaraki Tomura, I’m in charge of the League. And you are our new plaything.” He bent forward, his face close to yours as he said, “Consider yourself lucky you caught our attention.” You were still a bit woozy from the tea, but you asked, “W..Why me?” He gently grabbed your jaw with his hand and he said in a voice laced with desire, “Why you? Oh, it’s quite simple. You see, I have a love for chaos and destruction, and what better way to indulge myself then by taking someone like you captive? Destroying your world by ripping you out of it was a great pleasure. Sure, the League needs some way to vent our frustrations, but...I’ve been craving something more... Oh yes, especially from you... Your beauty, your vulnerability, your surrender...It’s an exhilirating combination that I long for..” He let go of your jaw and he said as he walked behind you, “But don’t you worry.. I have no plan to harm you, and I won’t let anyone else do so.” He gently gripped your sides and leaned into your neck, his hot breath brushing along your skin, making you blush and gasp softly due to your body’s sensitivity. “Besides...I think you’ll enjoy yourself here...You’d be surprised what can be found in places like this.”

You gulped, unsure how to feel exactly, but there was one thing you knew. “Well....if I’m gonna be staying here for a while...I should tell you my name...My name is Y/N.” “Y/N... What a lovely name. Fits you perfectly.” His hands then slid up to your covered breasts, his hands groping each one, the size of his hands engulfing them. “Now, Y/N, let’s have a little fun, shall we? After all, you’re here to entertain me tonight..” He started to massage your breasts as his body pressed against your back. You could feel something hard pressing against your ass, making your body grow warmer. He kissed your neck and shoulder, the sensation causing shivers down your spine. Your head was still swimming, and everything Tomura was doing felt so good...

He leaned to your ear and whispered, “Tell me, Y/N... Do you enjoy pain..? Does the idea of me leaving marks on you make you tremble..?” “N..No...I’m..not a fan of pain...I..If I could choose between pleasure and pain...I..I’d choose pleasure..” You heard him chuckle then respond, “Is that so..? Then you’ll receive that in abundance..” He undid your bra then let the garment fall to the floor. Once that was off, he put one hand back on your breast, teasing your nipple as he massaged it. The sensation made you gasp softly, which made Tomura smile deviously. His other hand slid down your side and teased the band of your panties. “Now tell me this, Y/N...Have you ever been touched intimately before..?” “Well...not in this position, at least..” His lips trailed your neck again as he said softly, “Well, Y/N, this is your lucky day. I’m going to show you how pleasurable it is when my hands explore your body..Would you like that, Y/N?” His offer was so tempting, you only had one answer. “Yes...” He smiled, saying, “Good girl. Just relax and let me take care of everything..”

He then slowly trailed his fingers under your panties and down to your pussy. He started to gently caress your clit as he kissed and licked your neck. The pleasure was like a firework shooting through your body, causing you to moan and making you crave more. Tomura whispered, “Does that feel good, Y/N?” As you moaned, you said, “Y..Yeah...” “That’s it, Y/N. Embrace the feeling..let yourself be consumed by it.” He started to pinch and tug at your nipple as he kept rubbing your pussy. Thanks to the effects of the tea, you couldn’t really resist anything he was doing, and in all honesty, you didn’t want to. It all just felt too good... Tomura noticed your surrender and smiled as he whispered in your ear, his voice dripping with lust, “I want to hear you moan more for me, Y/N..Let the pleasure escape your lips..” With that, he slowly slid a finger inside you and started to pump at a slow yet steady pace. The pleasure was too much, and you started to moan louder. Soon, you wanted more pleasure, so you started to gently buck your hips. Tomura let out a deep chuckle from his throat and said, “Oh, eager, aren’t you? Such a keen and responsive little plaything you are, Y/N...” You found your head turned, facing Tomura. Your lips were so close to his and you wanted to kiss him so bad, it was almost torture. You couldn’t take it anymore and you leaned your head a bit forward and kissed him.

It was a surprise to Tomura, but he quickly kissed you back. He savored the taste of your desire on his lips, his touch becoming rougher in response to the growing intensity between you. The sounds of your moans mixed with this own, building and consuming you both. Breaking the kiss momentarily, he whispered huskily against your lips, “You’re a bold one, Y/N. But be careful...I can’t promise to be gentle with you.” With that, he kissed you again and slid two more fingers inside you, making your eyes turn wide as he curled his fingers inside you, his movements becoming rougher and more demanding, pushing you closer to the edge. It’s not too long before you cum hard, moaning in his mouth. Tomura groaned into the kiss, feeling your climax wash over you through his fingers. He eagerly swallowed your moans, grinning to himself as he does. As your release subsided, he pulled away from the kiss, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. His fingers still buried inside you, he continued to gently move them, prolonging the pleasure as he watched you recover from your intense orgasm. “Doesn't that feel good, Y/N?” he murmured, his voice filled with seduction. “But we’re far from done here. I have so much more in store for you.”

He pulled his fingers out of you and licked up the juices dripping from them, savoring the taste of you. With a wicked glimmer in his eyes, he leaned in to capture your lips once again. You could taste yourself in the kiss, the sweetness coating your tongue. You watch as he removed his clothes, then he undid your chain, making you fall to the ground. He picked you up so you were on your knees. You see his hard and throbbing cock in front of you, already starting to drip pre-cum down the shaft. You could feel your mouth water as you kept staring at it, feeling your inner core tighten as you wondered how it’d feel stuffed inside your holes. You looked up at him, wordlessly asking for permission to please him. Tomura’s eyes darkened with raw desire as he saw your hunger. He reached out, his fingers running through your hair as he pets your head, his touch possessive and commanding. “You want me, don’t you, Y/N?” he asked, his voice husky with anticipation. “I can see it in your eyes. Go ahead.” His hand tightened in your hair, applying enough pressure to assert his dominance. You may have been pleasuring him, but he was still in control. With a firm grip, he guided your head closer to his hardened cock, wordlessly granting your unspoken request. “Now, show me just how good you can be.”

You gently held his cock and you started to lick up the shaft and swirled your tongue around the head, moaning as you did. Soon, you let it slide into your mouth and you started to suck on it as you bobbed your head. Tomura grunted in pleasure as you took his cock in your mouth, the wet warmth sending waves of pleasure through his body. He watched you with a predatory gaze, relishing in the sight of your lips wrapped around him. “Such a good little cock-sucker, Y/N,” he groaned, his voice filled with desire. His hand remained firmly gripping your hair, guiding your movements as you bobbed your head, taking more of him into your mouth. As you continued to suck and tease him, Tomura couldn’t help but let out a series of low moans, the pleasure building steadily. His hips involuntarily bucked, seeking more contact with the wet heat between your lips. “Deeper,” he growled, his grip on your hair tightening. “Take all of it, Y/N. Show me how much you crave it.”

You did as he said and took more of his cock deeper into your mouth. Eventually, you were able to take his entire length and suck on it, letting your tongue rub against any sensitive spots. Tomura hissed in pleasure, feeling the tightness of your throat as you took his entire length. He watched you with a mix of admiration and dominance, his grip on your hair guiding your movements. “That’s it, Y/N,” he groaned. “You’re doing such a good job. Keep sucking, don’t stop.” He bucked his hips gently, setting a rhythm that matched the movements of your mouth. Your tongue worked wonders against his sensitive flesh, adding to the overwhelming pleasure. With every suck and every flick of your tongue, Tomura’s moans grew louder, his body tensing with the growing desire for release. He could feel himself reaching his edge, his breathing becoming ragged. “Keep going, Y/N,” he gasped, his voice strained. “I’m close...Do you want me to cum in your mouth? Show me how badly you want it.”

You put your hand on the back of his thigh to keep his cock in your mouth and you gently fondled his balls, encouraging them to let him cum in your mouth. Tomura’s breath hitched as he felt that, adding an extra layer of stimulation to his throbbing cock. The pressure and the pleasure building within him intensified, and he could feel his orgasm approaching rapidly. His grip on your hair tightened further as he looked down at you with a fierce desire, his eyes burning with intensity. “Yes, Y/N,” he growled. “Drain me. Take every drop.” With a final thrust of his hips, Tomura couldn’t hold back any longer. A gutteral moan escaped his lips as he released his hot cum into your mouth. He watched intently as you took every drop, savoring the sight of your submission and the pleasure you brought him. “You certainly know how to please, Y/N,” he said, his voice filled with lust. “But this is only the beginning. There’s so much more I have planned for us.”

As his orgasm subsided, he gently pulled you away, a satisfied smirk on his lips. When he pulled out of your mouth, you licked up every visible drop of his cum, even going so far as to lick up the drops that fell onto the hard floor. Tomura watched with a mixture of fascination and lust as you obediently licked up every visible drop of his cum. The intensity of your submission and addiction thrilled him, fueling his desire for further exploration. “You’re quite the eager little slut, aren’t you, Y/N?” he said, his voice filled with a dark amusement. “But there’s no need to waste a drop. You’re so devoted, so desperate for my pleasure.” His words, laced with dominance, sent a shiver down your spine as his hand gently cupped your cheek. His thumb brushed against your lips, coated with the remnants of his release. He pushed his thumb inside, pressing it onto your tongue, to see your reaction. When you start to pant and gently massage his thumb with your tongue, he smirked devilishly. Tomura knelt down and leaned in, his eyes dark with desire as he observed the remnants of his release still lingering on your tongue. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he felt the wet warmth of your tongue sliding along his thumb. He held it there for a moment, savoring the sensation before slowly pulling it out, a predatory glint in his eyes. “You’re so obedient, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Such a good little pet. I think we’re going to enjoy each other’s company very much.”

He leaned in to you, his mouth close to your ear. “Now, Y/N, I want you to touch yourself for me. Show me how much pleasure you can endure,” he whispered, his voice dripping with promises of even more intense experiences to come. He stood up, his gaze locked onto yours, filled with anticipation. You nodded and you sat on the floor. You started to rub your pussy, his gaze never leaving you. You moaned as you rubbed your clit and slid your fingers inside you. You pumped your fingers inside you at a steady pace as your hips matched the tempo of your fingers. Tomura’s eyes were fixated on your intimate display, a hunger evident in his gaze. He leaned back against the wall, his cock fully erect again and throbbing with arousal. The sight of you pleasuring yourself ignited a primal desire within him. He watched intently as your fingers expertly worked your pussy, your moans filling the room. The sound of your pleasure only fueled his own, and he couldn’t resist the urge to stroke his cock in response. “All those lovely sounds you make, Y/N,” he said, his voice filled with a dark desire. “You’re a sight to behold, giving in to your own desires. But remember, the true pleasure comes from me.”

He stroked his cock with long, slow motions, matching the rhythm of your hand. The anticipation of joining you, of bringing you to even greater heights of pleasure, pulsed through his veins. “Keep going, my little whore,” he murmured. “Bring yourself to the edge. I want to see you unravel, to hear you scream my name.” You moaned and slid more fingers inside, watching Tomura jack off making you even more aroused. You couldn’t help but moan out, “Ahh..yes... Ohh...Tomura... Please... I.. I need you so bad... I need you to fuck me.. Tomura, please fuck me as much as you want... I don’t care... I..I want you to fill me with your cum... Please..!” Tomura’s eyes glinted with a mixture of satisfaction and hunger as he heard your desperate pleas. The intensity of your desire matched his own, driving him to fulfill your carnal cravings. Without hesitation, he closed the distance between you in a swift motion, kneeling on the floor in front of you. His hands firmly grasped your hips, pulling you closer to him. The head of his cock pressed against your entrance, teasingly rubbing your wet folds. He leaned in close, his lips grazing your ear as he whispered in a low, seductive tone, “Oh, Y/N, you’re so eager, so ready to be filled. I’ll give you what you want, but remember, I’ll take you as roughly as I please.”

With a powerful thrust, he impaled you on his cock, filling you completely. The sensation of his hardness inside you sent electric shocks of pleasure through your body. His grip tightened on your hips as he began to move, setting a relentless pace. With every thrust, Tomura’s groans mingled with yours, creating a symphony of raw desire. His hips met yours with an unyielding force, the sound of skin slapping against skin and the orchestra of your moans filling the room. He provided the pleasure you craved, taking you to new heights of ecstasy. “Goddamn, Y/N,” he grunted, his voice strained as he bit his lower lip. “You’re so tight, so fucking wet. We’re just getting started. I'm going to take you over and over, until you can’t even think straight.” You moaned loud and threw your head back in pleasure. Oh god, it felt so much better than you could’ve ever imagined. A smile grew on your face as the pleasure surged through your body. “Ahh..! Yes..! Use me..! Break me..!”

Tomura’s eyes burned with a primal hunger as he watched you surrender to the pleasure coursing through you. He could feel the raw intensity of your desire, matching his own in ferocity. He gripped your hips tightly, anchoring himself as he continued to thrust into you with unrelenting force. Each movement was filled with dominance, his cock delving within you, hitting every sensitive area. “You want to be used, Y/N?” he growled, his voice laced with the darkest satisfaction. “I’ll give you everything you crave. Every ounce of pleasure. Every moment of ecstasy. You’re mine to break, to ravish, to mark as mine.” As his pace quickened, the sound of your moans and the slap of skin echoed through the room, a symphony of desire. Tomura reveled in the power he held over you, the primal satisfaction that came from claiming you as his. “Let go, Y/N,” he urged, his voice strained and desperate. “Cum for me. Give in to the pleasure. Surrender yourself completely.”

It wasn’t too long until you were able to fulfill his wish, cumming hard on his cock and giving in to the pleasure, your mind swimming in the purest of bliss. Tomura’s eyes burned with satisfaction as he felt your walls clench around him, your release washing over you. The tightness and pulsing sensation intensified his own pleasure, pushing him closer to the edge. He continued to thrust into you, riding out your orgasm, the friction and heat between you both driving him towards his own climax. With a final, desperate thrust, he let out a primal groan as his own release tore through him, spilling his hot cum deep inside you. As he rode out the waves of pleasure, he looked into your eyes, his gaze filled with a mixture of possessiveness and satisfaction. He leaned in close, his voice a low rasp against your ear. “You’re mine now, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice filled with a possessive edge. “You belong to me. And I’ll keep using you, breaking you, until there’s nothing left.” With that final declaration, he pressed his lips against yours in a possessive kiss, claiming you as his own.

He lifted you into his arms and carried you to the bed, laying you in it before entering it himself, the room filled with the scent of sex and the sounds of your heavy breathing, as you both basked in the aftermath of your intense encounter. You had a look of pure bliss on your face as you laid there, unable to move. “Yes...I’m yours...I belong to you...” you softly said. Tomura’s dark satisfaction morphed into something softer as he observed the pleasured look on your face. ‘God, she’s so precious,’ he thought to himself. He held you close, his touch now gentle, his voice filled with a mix of tenderness and possessiveness. “Yes, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble. “You belong to me, body and soul. I’ll protect you, I’ll ravish you, and I’ll cherish you in my own twisted way. You’re mine, and I’ll make sure you never forget it.” With those words, he gently caressed your cheek, his touch a stark contrast to the intensity of your recent encounter. The room remained cloaked in a hazy cloud of desire and peace as both of you savored the bond that had been formed, knowing that both pleasure and darkness awaited you in the future.

~~~♡♡♡~~~

#fanfiction #bnha league of villains #bnha #mha #shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki x you #mha shigaraki #bnha shigaraki #my hero academia #boku no hero fic #boku no hero smut #bnha smut #mha smut #my hero fanfic

31 notes · View notes

mixelation · 13 hours

Note

What does the working relationship with hiruzen and Minato look like after the Tori murder attempt (seems like being an anbu in hiruzens office whenever they have to talk after it would be the most stressful thing)

excellent question. i'm not sure how i want to develop it exactly, but minato's overall character arc is that he doesn't actually like spending time in konoha. hiraishin means he can just go anywhere he wants, and there's more exciting places out there. he prefers being on missions, and the people he might go to konoha to spend time with are largely also on missions. in canon he'd have his romance with kushina to keep him tied to konoha, but in async they're instead close friends and his wifeguy energies are directed at your local semi-nomadic scam artist. so he's already sort of divorced from konoha as a place

leading up to the murder attempt, hiruzen first attempts to get him in line by giving him a genin team (minato enjoys this) and then when he doesn't get in line, starts overworking him. tori interprets this as "konoha is trying to kill you, idiot" but minato is like "noooo they just need meeeee" and TBH it's a little of both. the tori murder attempt makes his view of konoha leadership sours & he's more inclined to believe tori's hypothesis

i think maybe the murder attempt makes more sense if the plan was to frame someone else. at first i was thinking it'd be a "be more obedient, bc we can and WILL take away your loved ones" type of message, but i'm not actually sure that move makes..... sense? the genin are pretty expendable people that minato has imprinted on, so they could be used against him, but also you have to be VERY confident you've read Minato's personality right and you're not about to make a missing-nin. so maybe the plan was instead to murder tori and then make it seem like some other ninja did it, in order to pull a "you see why you need to dedicate yourself more to konoha?" kind of move. either way, they get caught immediately

i want the murder attempt to be a major ideological turning point for minato, but i'm not sure what his short term move would be because i think he'd be hesitant to actually abandon konoha (or more specifically, his team, kushina, jiraiya). i might kill his old genin teammates to help shift his mood without killing anyone the readers actually care about. also part of his character arc is he just defers more and more to tori's plans so TBH he might just do what tori tells him*

tori: okay hear me out. this is what i would do in this situation. just go back to konoha and act like nothing happened. it will drive them insane but they can't say anything to you without admitting what they did. and you can keep your little genin team

jiraiya: that is a terrible idea

minato: no, no. i like this. tell me more

*minato doesn't just do what she says for the sake of doing what she says. however he does slowly join the tori logic train and is like "but this plan makes sense--"

#asynchronicity #toriverse

39 notes · View notes

maevecrom · 2 days

Text

RHYS AND FEYRE ARE MORALLY GREY CHARACTERS

(in response to an ask)

Definition of a Morally Grey Character: A character that is neither good nor bad;no motivation to do good or bad actions. They, instead, follow their own ambition rather than those of the greater good or evil. Due to their goals being detached from those attributes, they could be intrinsically vicious or virtuous if their character’s values align with their objectives. However, morally ambiguous characters may still strive to impact their world positively or negatively in some manner.

Everything Rhys and Feyre has done has fallen under this definition in some way. They are not good or bad. They try to be virtuous, but they follow their own objectives which could, to some people, consider them immoral.

Rhys Examples:

Pregnancy: His only intention was to protect Feyre and keep her as happy as possible, but his action in keeping medical information from her may deem him immoral. However, he didn’t do so viciously or with malicious intent.

UtM: Regardless of what many people say about what he did UtM and his abuse, we can all agree it was not done with harmful intent. Some may deem it unnecessary (which I discuss a bit more in another post https://www.tumblr.com/maevecrom/751672804972412928/you-accuse-nesta-of-abuse-but-love-rhysand-and?source=share), but I'd also argue that they were in a high-stress, dangerous environment. Rhys committed many crimes in general, but none of it was willing and many of which were done mercifully. In Feyre's case, his only goal was to keep her alive, and sometimes that means putting someone in uncomfortable situations. Feyre, herself, said she understood why he was doing what he did long before they formed a connection. Readers know none of it was with bad intent, just probably poorly executed compared to what a morally-good character would do.

Feyre’s Examples:

SC: Her only intention was to show the people what kind of leader Tamlin was. Truthfully, all she did was defend a sentry and kill the twins who were actively trying to mind control Tamlin and Lucien. Her objectives were virtuous by trying to protect his people (who, btw, were described as poor multiple times while tamlin's home was lavish and covered in gold, but still had to pay tithe), as well as Lucien and the sentries (who were actively being punished and abused because Tamlin didn’t like being questioned). In the end, many may see what she did as immoral because she reacted in the name of revenge, but the actions she took only held positive intents.

Nesta and the HoW: Reading back through the first couple of chapters, it's clear Nesta was not doing well. A lot of people I've talked to have argued she didn't have an addiction because she didn't go through withdrawal, but not everyone experiences those symptoms. And even if she wasn't an alcoholic, the methods in which she were drinking, to withhold her ptsd and growing self-hatred, would describe her plummeting towards that path. If it wasn't the alcohol that would ruin her, it was her mental health. And you don't need to be a genius to be able to see someone is in trouble. Feyre locking Nesta up in the HoW was not done with ill intent, though the method is questionable to many people. But I'd like to point out that if Nesta was as isolated as Feyre was, she never would've met Gwyn and Emerie, she never would've found the trove, she never would've participated in the Blood Rite, and she never would've become a Valkyrie. You can admit it's questionable while also admitting it was far different from Tamlin locking Feyre up.

People don’t like to call them morally grey characters because then it’s much harder to criticize them. A lot of readers, however, would happily call someone like Zade Meadows (a r@pist) morally grey because there’s no widespread hatred or competition. If Zade Meadows can be described as morally grey all because he didn’t “want” to hurt the fmc, then Rhys and Feyre can be labeled as such simply because they did questionable things trying to protect and survive.

#acotar #feyre archeron #pro feyre #a court of thorns and roses #rhysand #feyre acotar #feyre #acomaf #nesta archeron #feysand #feyre cursebreaker #high lady feyre #rhysand archeron #rhysand acotar #acowar #acosf #nesta acosf #pro rhys

29 notes · View notes

crazy-lazy-elder-sims · 3 days

Text

I apologize to all my mutuals and discord servers and discord friends for not talking to anyone for months now, and not making cc and just not being as active as i used to

Im completely burned out on socializing as its been extremely stressful irl work is stressful and home like is extremely stressful and people stomp on my boundaries left nd right and keep talking to me no matter how many times i ak them not to

My parents dont care and keep forcing me to listen to them even if i have a spliting headache unfortunately as i live with them i cant exactly leave the room when i please as that will make them hurl more abuse towards me Which defeats the point, and im not kidding but sometimes i'd be sitting on the train and people start talking to me one lady kept pulling my headphones it was so fucking stressful

Everyone is utterly miserable here (rightfully so its very hard to even live or breath cause everything is so corrupted and expensive) but weirdly lately they will not hesitate to vent on literally anyone infront of them

Yesterday i was in a taxi and the driver made a pun about my home street's name and i laughed because it was funny and like i like the small pleasantries between people its harmless but i kid you not the next words out of his mouth were him complaining about everything under the sun and he got so heated that he was banging the steering wheel left and right instead of idk guiding it normally absolutely terrifying and i did not need him to dump his problems on me like that and i kid you not every fucking interaction i have is like that i was at the grocery store looking at coffee and some really old lady was like "prices are insane huh?" I didnt reply and focused on the coffee The next thing i know shes holding onto my arm tightly and telling me about how miserable thing make her it started with prices and ended with her dead husband its all like that if you even glance at people while passing by they start talking and it always leads to an angey vent.

I understand the frustration i am too frustrated by this life but idk why is this the norm now

And why me ? The most introverted person in the world i barley even have social battery for myself for my own things and now everyone has turned to consuming everyone elses social battery for thier own good its exhausting

I know i have to learn to say no and be assertive but As i said i already am a super introverted person (and this is not an exsagration i once only left the house for about 5 times total in 2 years i jut dont engage with the world much as it exhausts me)

But untill i get successful at pushing back against people and also the bigger problem my parents im gonna barely have any energy to talk to people online or in discord im sorry i can only do so much at once 😞

25 notes · View notes

guy-writes · 12 hours

Text

CBF!König x GN!Reader (Chapter Five)

Warnings: no pronouns but 'you', König has a name, Physical punishment (on König)

You're confused on Alexander's recent behaviour.

Age: 13

Memory Six

“I’m glad you came”

You were avoiding him, which was a hard feat but you somehow managed. You couldn’t necessarily avoid him at school… but you made a point to barely talk to him. He seemed to get the memo though, since he barely peeped a word at you other than to say hi or bye.

You’ve talked about the situation with your dad, and even he was puzzled at Alexander’s behaviour. You two were on the couch, doing your Friday movie nights. Dad said it was a way to bond even if you guys weren’t actively talking together, you looked forward to it every week (especially when it was your turn to pick the movie.)

“So… he said you were disloyal because Alina complimented your homework?” Dad asked, he pursed his lip in thought. Dad always tolerated Alexander to some degree, but he disliked how mad he got over things. Plus, the more he got to know his mom… the more uncomfortable he got around Alexander’s family in general. You got the vibe it was mostly from Albert, Alexander’s dad, your dad said he was a troubled man. Whatever that meant.

“Yeah, I’m not even sure what he means by that… How am I being disloyal? I’ve defended him from his bullies, and I hang out with him basically every day,” You explained, idly picking at the popcorn. If you had to pick a way to feel about this situation, annoyance was what came to mind first. But you also felt a little sad… because sure, Alexander got more frustrated than the average person- but he was your first friend here, and a relatively good one at that. Plus, he was fun to hang out with when it was just the two of you… especially when he wasn’t stressed about how to act around others.

Your dad, sensing you wanted to shelve your thoughts on the matter for now, gave you silent support. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into a small hug. You got more comfortable before watching whatever action movie your dad picked for the week.

You were out on your front porch, it was a bit chilly considering fall was back in your little neighbourhood. You have been here for one year now, though it seemed much shorter than that. A lot has happened in your short time here- like making friends with Alexander…

You groaned thinking about him, he still never explained his behaviour or apologised. It’s been a few days since then and things were still on a hi or bye basis. You shook your thoughts away and decided to go to the park where you first met Alexander. You haven’t been able to visit a lot, much to your dismay, but it was a nice place to hang out (and was away from the prying eyes.)

You were coming up to the trees, seeing the park just in reach- when you stopped in your tracks upon what sounded like crying. It sounded like they were trying to keep quiet… but their sniffles gave them away. You crept over to where the noise was coming from. It was coming from beneath the play structure, right under the slide that housed a fake ice cream stand underneath.

You saw his brown hair and instantly knew who it was.

Alexander was crying.

“...What’s wrong?” You asked, Alexander squeaked when he heard you, whipping his head to look towards you. He was sitting with his knees tucked under his chin but he quickly straightened out. Alexander looked away from you once he confirmed you weren’t a threat and wiped his tears away.

“…Nothing- I’m fine,” he huffed out, crossing his arms and trying to appear smaller. Which wasn’t something he could accomplish. You sighed, furrowing your brows at him and decided to plop yourself next to the boy. The ground was cold underneath you and the leaves were a bit damp- but you got comfortable.

“Well… clearly something is wrong or else you wouldn’t be crying…” You were a bit curious, given Alexander never cried around you. You wanted to help.

“Why do you care? I thought you didn't want to be friends anymore…” He argued. Alexander just stared at the leaves, never once glancing your way.

“That doesn't mean I don't care…And I never said I didn’t wanna be friends anymore” you pointed out. He was about to protest but shut his mouth real quick. It didn't look like he had much to say on the subject anymore, so he remained quiet. He was fiddling with a piece of grass, you took some time to look him over. He never changed much, still with the same short, messy hair and chubby appearance. You did notice a few angry red marks on the back of his hands, it seems those popped up every now and then, especially when his dad was home.

“Nothing… seems to be working out for me…” He finally mumbled out. He still didn’t look at you- but he was talking, which you were relieved about.

“I did something stupid, Felix called me a pig when we were changing for gym, and my dad…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish as he started tearing up again. He hiccuped before he started sobbing. You didn’t know what to do, you never saw this side of him before. You hesitantly placed your hand on his shoulder as a sign of comfort, and it seemed to work as he started taking deep breaths after a moment. He calmed down just enough to talk again.

“Honestly, I think the thing that hurt the most was you avoiding me…” he paused,, then took another deep breath before he continued.

“I’m… sorry for what I said, I didn’t think it was bad…” He sniffled. He finally looked towards you, his cheeks were covered in tear stains and he had snot running down his nose. His hair was even messier which was impressive. You gave him a small smile, you couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty at his earlier confessions.

“It’s fine, just… you know, try not to do it again in the future,” You decided to accept his apology, he visibly relaxed at that. You were impressed he apologised without having his sister push for it.

“...Can we just sit here for a while?” He asked softly. He looked exhausted from crying but he seemed more at peace now. You nodded your head, though you were starting to get a bit chilly from staying in one spot. Alexander plopped his head on your shoulder, relaxing on you as he closed his eyes. You placed your head on his, watching the sky turn a deep blue as it was getting dark out.

“Could we go over to your house and play Ocarina of time?” Alexander inquired, hope in his voice that you would accept.

You smiled, “Sure, but I’m playing first.”

“Hmm… fine…”

"Borderline" Masterlist

Words: 1161

Chapter Six (Coming soon)

Reblogs & comments divider by @reveriesources

#cod fanfic #cod x reader #call of duty #könig #cod mwii #guy.writes #konig cod #könig cod #könig x reader #cbf!könig #konig x you

19 notes · View notes