#But I have no one who'd do that for me and it feels absolutely fucking awful to realise that

[running-in-the-dark]

it really sucks when you know you could fix something soo easily if you just.. you know, had a functioning brain and all that

#I need to finish my thesis. I neeeeeed to send my advisor an email about that. I need to choose a concrete topic/question not just the #general overall topic I have now. I need to read stuff and be able to absorb any of it but I can't I can't I can't #and fuck I know I can do it! I know I can! But it's been three years. And I just. Fucking can't. #And the worst part is that I know what would probably help me be able to do it #All I need is someone to help me. Not with writing or anything. Just someone to talk to about my ideas and what I'm doing and what I'm #having trouble with. Just someone to listen and maybe tell me if something makes sense or not #But I have no one who'd do that for me and it feels absolutely fucking awful to realise that #Fuck I just want to go back to the time when my friends and I would study and do our homework together after school #I was so... capable then #And now I'm just this pathetic loser who can't write a fucking bachelors thesis that's so fucking humiliating #It wouldn't be if it was anyone else but me? Ugh I'm the worst and I hate myself #Anyway I'll go cry and watch YouTube now 😭 #I need someone other than me to compensate for all the ways my stupid brain just won't work #personal

[mollyrealized]

How Michael Met Neil

original direct link [MP3]

(Neil, if you see this, please feel free to grab the transcript and store on your site; I had no easy way of contacting you.)

DAVID TENNANT: Tell me about @neil-gaiman then, because he's in that category [previously: “such a profound effect on my life”] as well.

MICHAEL SHEEN: So this is what has brought us together.

DAVID: Yes.

MICHAEL: To the new love story for the 21st century.

DAVID: Exactly.

MICHAEL: So when I went to drama school, there was a guy called Gary Turner in my year. And within the first few weeks, we were doing something, having a drink or whatever. And he said to me, “Do you read comic books?”

And I said, “No.”  I mean, this is … what … '88?  '88, '89.  So it was … now I know that it was a period of time that was a big change, transformation going through comic books.  Rather than it being thought of as just superheroes and Batman and Superman, there was this whole new era of a generation of writers like Grant Morrison.

DAVID: The kids who'd grown up reading comic books were now making comic books

MICHAEL: Yeah, yeah, and starting to address different kinds of subjects through the comic book medium. So it wasn't about just superheroes, it was all kinds of stuff going on – really fascinating stuff. And I was totally unaware of this.

And so this guy Gary said to me, "Do you read them?" And I said, "No."  And he went, "Right, okay, here's The Watchman [sic] by Alan Moore. Here's Swamp Thing. Here's Hellblazer. And here's Sandman.”

And Sandman was Neil Gaiman's big series that put his name on the map. And I read all those, and, just – I was blown away by all of them, but particularly the Sandman stories, because he was drawing on mythology, which was something I was really interested in, and fairy tales, folklore, and philosophy, and Shakespeare, and all kinds of stuff were being mixed up in this story.  And I absolutely loved it.

So I became a big fan of Neil's, and started reading everything by him. And then fairly shortly after that, within six months to a year, Good Omens the book came out, which Neil wrote with Terry Pratchett. And so I got the book – because I was obviously a big fan of Neil's by this point – read it, loved it, then started reading Terry Pratchett’s stuff as well, because I didn't know his stuff before then – and then spent years and years and years just being a huge fan of both of them.

And then eventually when – I'd done films like the Underworld films and doing Twilight films. And I think it was one of the Twilight films, there was a lot of very snooty interviews that happened where people who considered themselves well above talking about things like Twilight were having to interview me … and, weirdly, coming at it from the attitude of 'clearly this is below you as well' … weirdly thinking I'm gonna go, 'Yeah, fucking Twilight.”

And I just used to go, "You know what? Some of the greatest writing of the last 50-100 years has happened in science fiction or fantasy."  Philip K Dick is one of my favorite writers of all time. In fact, the production of Hamlet I did was mainly influenced by Philip K Dick.  Ursula K. Le Guin and Asimov, and all these amazing people. And I talked about Neil as well. And so I went off on a bit of a rant in this interview.

Anyway, the interview came out about six months later, maybe.  Knock on the door, open the door, delivery of a big box. That’s interesting. Open the box, there's a card at the top of the box. I open the card.

It says, From one fan to another, Neil Gaiman.  And inside the box are first editions of Neil's stuff, and all kinds of interesting things by Neil. And he just sent this stuff.

DAVID: You'd never met him?

MICHAEL: Never met him. He'd read the interview, or someone had let him know about this interview where I'd sung his praises and stood up for him and the people who work within that sort of genre as being like …

And he just got in touch. We met up for the first time when he came to – I was in Los Angeles at the time, and he came to LA.  And he said, "I'll take you for a meal."

I said, “All right.”

He said, "Do you want to go somewhere posh, or somewhere interesting?”

I said, "Let's go somewhere interesting."

He said, "Right, I'm going to take you to this restaurant called The Hump." And it's at Santa Monica Airport. And it's a sushi restaurant.

I was like, “Right, okay.” So I had a Mini at the time. And we get in my Mini and we drive off to Santa Monica Airport. And this restaurant was right on the tarmac, like, you could sit in the restaurant (there's nobody else there when we got there, we got there quite early) and you're watching the planes landing on Santa Monica Airport. It's extraordinary. 

And the chef comes out and Neil says, "Just bring us whatever you want. Chef's choice."

So, I'd never really eaten sushi before. So we sit there; we had this incredible meal where they keep bringing these dishes out and they say, “This is [blah, blah, blah]. Just use a little bit of soy sauce or whatever.”  You know, “This is eel.  This is [blah].”

And then there was this one dish where they brought out and they didn't say what it was. It was like “mystery dish”, we had it ... delicious. Anyway, a few more people started coming into the restaurant as time went on.

And we're sort of getting near the end, and I said, "Neil, I can't eat anymore. I'm gonna have to stop now. This is great, but I can't eat–"

"Right, okay. We'll ask for the bill in a minute."

And then the door opens and some very official people come in. And it was the Feds. And the Feds came in, and we knew they were because they had jackets on that said they were part of the Federal Bureau of Whatever. And about six of them come in. Two of them go … one goes behind the counter, two go into the kitchen, one goes to the back. They've all got like guns on and stuff.

And me and Neil are like, "What on Earth is going on?"

And then eventually one guy goes, "Ladies and gentlemen, if you haven't ordered already, please leave. If you're still eating your meal, please finish up, pay your bill, leave."*

[* - delivered in a perfect American ‘serious law agent’ accent/impression]

And we were like, "Oh my God, are we poisoned? Is there some terrible thing that's happened?"  

We'd finished, so we pay our bill.  And then all the kitchen staff are brought out. And the head chef is there. The guy who's been bringing us this food. And he's in tears. And he says to Neil, "I'm so sorry." He apologizes to Neil.  And we leave. We have no idea what happened.

DAVID: But you're assuming it's the mystery dish.

MICHAEL: Well, we're assuming that we can't be going to – we can't be –  it can't be poisonous. You know what I mean? It can't be that there's terrible, terrible things.

So the next day was the Oscars, which is why Neil was in town. Because Coraline had been nominated for an Oscar. Best documentary that year was won by The Cove, which was by a team of people who had come across dolphins being killed, I think.

Turns out, what was happening at this restaurant was that they were having illegal endangered species flown in to the airport, and then being brought around the back of the restaurant into the kitchen.

We had eaten whale – endangered species whale. That was the mystery dish that they didn't say what it was.

And the team behind The Cove were behind this sting, and they took them down that night whilst we were there.

DAVID: That’s extraordinary.

MICHAEL: And we didn't find this out for months.  So for months, me and Neil were like, "Have you worked anything out yet? Have you heard anything?"

"No, I haven't heard anything."

And then we heard that it was something to do with The Cove, and then we eventually found out that that restaurant, they were all arrested. The restaurant was shut down. And it was because of that. And we'd eaten whale that night.

DAVID: And that was your first meeting with Neil Gaiman.

MICHAEL: That was my first meeting. And also in the drive home that night from that restaurant, he said, and we were in my Mini, he said, "Have you found the secret compartment?"

I said, "What are you talking about?" It's such a Neil Gaiman thing to say.

DAVID: Isn't it?

MICHAEL: The secret compartment? Yeah. Each Mini has got a secret compartment. I said, "I had no idea." It's secret. And he pressed a little button and a thing opened up. And it was a secret compartment in my own car that Neil Gaiman showed me.

DAVID: Was there anything inside it?

MICHAEL: Yeah, there was a little man. And he jumped out and went, "Hello!" No, there was nothing in there. There was afterwards because I started putting...

DAVID: Sure. That's a very Neil Gaiman story. All of that is such a Neil Gaiman story.

MICHAEL: That's how it began. Yeah.

DAVID: And then he came to offer you the part in Good Omens.

MICHAEL: Yeah. Well, we became friends and we would whenever he was in town, we would meet up and yeah, and then eventually he started, he said, "You know, I'm working on an adaptation of Good Omens." And I can remember at one point Terry Gilliam was going to maybe make a film of it. And I remember being there with Neil and Terry when they were talking about it. And...

DAVID: Were you involved at that point?

MICHAEL: No, no, I wasn't involved. I just happened to have met up with Neil that day.

DAVID: Right.

MICHAEL: And then Terry Gilliam came along and they were chatting, that was the day they were talking about that or whatever.

And then eventually he sent me one of the scripts for an early draft of like the first episode of Good Omens. And he said – and we started talking about me being involved in it, doing it – he said, “Would you be interested?” I was like, "Yeah, of course."  I went, "Oh my God." And he said, "Well, I'll send you the scripts when they come," and I would read them, and we'd talk about them a little bit. And so I was involved.

But it was always at that point with the idea, because he'd always said about playing Crowley in it. And so, as time went on, as I was reading the scripts, I was thinking, "I don't think I can play Crowley. I don't think I'm going to be able to do it." And I started to get a bit nervous because I thought, “I don't want to tell Neil that I don't think I can do this.”  But I just felt like I don't think I can play Crowley.

DAVID: Of course you can [play Crowley?].

MICHAEL: Well, I just on a sort of, on a gut level, sometimes you have it on a gut level.

DAVID: Sure, sure.

MICHAEL: I can do this.

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: Or I can't do this. And I just thought, “You know what, this is not the part for me. The other part is better for me, I think. I think I can do that, I don't think I could do that.”

But I was scared to tell Neil because I thought, "Well, he wants me to play Crowley" – and then it turned out he had been feeling the same way as well.  And he hadn't wanted to mention it to me, but he was like, "I think Michael should really play Aziraphale."

And neither of us would bring it up.  And then eventually we did. And it was one of those things where you go, "Oh, thank God you said that. I feel exactly the same way." And then I think within a fairly short space of time, he said, “I think we've got … David Tennant … for Crowley.” And we both got very excited about that.

And then all these extraordinary people started to join in. And then, and then off we went.

DAVID: That's the other thing about Neil, he collects people, doesn't he? So he'll just go, “Oh, yeah, I've phoned up Frances McDormand, she's up for it.” Yeah. You're, what?

MICHAEL: “I emailed Jon Hamm.”

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: And yeah, and you realize how beloved he is and how beloved his work is. And I think we would both recognise that Good Omens is one of the most beloved of all of Neil's stuff.

DAVID: Yes.

MICHAEL: And had never been turned into anything.

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: And so the kind of responsibility of that, I mean, for me, for someone who has been a fan of him and a fan of the book for so long, I can empathize with all the fans out there who are like, “Oh, they better not fuck this up.”

DAVID: Yes.

MICHAEL: “And this had better be good.” And I have that part of me. But then, of course, the other part of me is like, “But I'm the one who might be fucking it up.”

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: So I feel that responsibility as well.

DAVID: But we have Neil on site.

MICHAEL: Yes. Well, Neil being the showrunner …

DAVID: Yeah. I think it takes the curse off.

MICHAEL: … I think it made a massive difference, didn't it? Yeah. You feel like you're in safe hands.

DAVID: Well, we think. Not that the world has seen it yet.

MICHAEL (grimly): No, I know.

DAVID: But it was a -- it's been a -- it's been a joy to work with you on it. I can't wait for the world to see it.

MICHAEL: Oh my God.  Oh, well, I mean, it's the only, I've done a few things where there are two people, it's a bit of a double act, like Frost-Nixon and The Queen, I suppose, in some ways. But, and I've done it, Amadeus or whatever.

This is the only thing I've done where I really don't think of it as “my character” or “my performance as that character”.  I think of it totally as us.

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: The two of us.

DAVID: Yes.

MICHAEL: Like they, what I do is defined by what you do.

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: And that was such a joy to have that experience. And it made it so much easier in a way as well, I found, because you don't feel like you're on your own in it. Like it's totally us together doing this and the two characters totally complement each other. And the experience of doing it was just a real joy.

DAVID: Yeah.  Well, I hope the world is as excited to see it as we are to talk about it, frankly.

MICHAEL: You know, there's, having talked about T.S. Eliot earlier, there's another bit from The Wasteland where there's a line which goes, These fragments I have shored against my ruin.

And this is how I think about life now. There is so much in life, no matter what your circumstances, no matter what, where you've got, what you've done, how much money you got, all that. Life's hard.  I mean, you can, it can take you down at any point.

You have to find this stuff. You have to like find things that will, these fragments that you hold to yourself, they become like a liferaft, and especially as time goes on, I think, as I've got older, I've realized it is a thin line between surviving this life and going under.

And the things that keep you afloat are these fragments, these things that are meaningful to you and what's meaningful to you will be not-meaningful to someone else, you know. But whatever it is that matters to you, it doesn't matter what it was you were into when you were a teenager, a kid, it doesn't matter what it is. Go and find them, and find some way to hold them close to you. 

Make it, go and get it. Because those are the things that keep you afloat. They really are. Like doing that with him or whatever it is, these are the fragments that have shored against my ruin. Absolutely.

DAVID: That's lovely. Michael, thank you so much.

MICHAEL: Thank you.

DAVID: For talking today and for being here.

MICHAEL: Oh, it's a pleasure. Thank you.

#neil gaiman #michael sheen #david tennant does a podcast with... #good omens #aziraphale #crowley #sushi #whale #the cove #oscars 2010 #coraline #mini secret compartments #howneilmetmichael #howmichaelmetneil

[touyasdoll]

Revered

pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x f!reader

word count: 1k

warnings: sex with feelings, alcohol, you've both been drinking, friends to lovers, he comes across a little possessive, dacryphilia if you squint, body worship, unprotected sex, let me know if I missed any ❤️

“Do your ears work, princess? Can you hear that?” He sneers, breath tickling the crook of your neck before he pushes himself up, biceps flexing beautifully as he looms over you.

He’s undoubtedly referring to the lewd, loud sounds manifesting between the two of you. It's absolutely intoxicating, just like his touch. You're already tipsy, but now you are drunk on what this man is doing to you.

“This is what pussy is supposed to sound like when you’re getting fucked.”

You aren't quite sure how you ended up here. With Katsuki fucking Bakugou of all people plunging his cock in and out of you while you cling to his strong arms for dear life.

You blame it on the alcohol. That's the only excuse you can think of to explain why he drew closer to you on the couch, hands and lips exploring places that your dear friend had never ventured to touch before.

Why the glasses you were sipping out of landed on the coffee tabe and he somehow wound up on top of you, his searing kiss stealing the very air from your lungs. Why your clothes lay discarded and you're now laid bare for him, limbs tangled up as sweat collects on both of your brows as your bodies move in tandem, seeking sweet, sweet pleasure.

"That pathetic excuse of a man you called a boyfriend never made you feel like this, did he?" He asks as he grabs your jaw, his touch still so gentle, even as his tone grows more desperate. "Did he?"

"Never," you reply, breathless and barely able to form the words as you lose yourself in the delirium.

Katsuki was definitely more imposing than the man who'd dumped you. He'd stood you up for the last time and it was Katsuki who'd come to comfort you, joining you in your libations as you drowned your sorrows over a man who was never worth your time to begin with.

"That's what I fucking thought," he says as a handsome smirk spreads across his face.

His expression is almost devious. It's dark and full of salascious promise as his strokes grow longer. Slower. Deeper.

It feels as if he's nearly penetrating your lungs the way that head of his cock drags against your pulsating walls and knocks against your cervix, kissing it with each pass of his hips, never giving you the chance to truly breathe as his body drives into yours with immense purpose. Like he has something to prove.

Because he does.

He's watched and he's waited. Too many men have come along and broken your heart. Used your body and never taken proper care of your heart, but that's over now.

As he peers down at your perfect form, he makes a promise to himself and to you. His hands glide along your body, worshipping every curve and dip. His mouth travels along your neck, your breasts, your jaw before they claim your mouth again.

It's heated, though that could just be the booze. It must be, you tell yourself, but no one has ever kissed you like this before. Like they mean it. Like they need it to survive. Like they need you.

"You are never going to be left wanting again, beautiful. I won't let it happen," he breathes out, his lips moving against yours before they swallow you whole again.

Your tongues tangle and you kiss him back despite how your lungs burn and your body tenses, pulled taut like the strings of an instrument that he has spent years mastering and he's performing a fucking symphony right now. To a crowd that only consists of you.

"You deserve to be pleasured. Treasured. Fucking revered," he growls through grit teeth, picking up the pace with his strokes as his hands works into your hair, cradling you with care like the prize he obviously thinks that you are.

"Katsuki," you gasp, a frantic energy swelling inside of you as the song he's crafting swells to a triumphant crescendo. "I-I'm gonna cum."

"Yes you are. You're going to cum all over my fucking cock. Like you should've been doing all this time. You are mine now. No one elses," he pants, sweat dripping from his face onto your breasts to glide down your torso. "I finally have you and I'm not letting you go. I've got you, gorgeous. Cum for me."

You hear his words, but they're drowned out by the sound of someone screaming. Of you, screaming. Howling with unrestrained need as the dam bursts and you break for him, gushing around his thick cock as it keeps on plunging in and out, nearly driving you mad.

"Katsuki!" You cry, literally, as tears prick your eyes, a warm wetness sliding over your cheeks when your eyes squeeze shut and you cling tighter to him, digging your nails into the fibers of his muscles.

"Fuck," he groans, a guttural noise echoing around your living room as his hot seed spills from him and into you, making the slick mess between your thighs a practical crime sense of passion and pure need.

His hips keep moving, drawing out the sinful noises the both of you trade as your respective highs peak and gradually begin to fade away, leaving you a weak, shaking mess beneath him.

"I love you," he confesses with the last of the oxygen in his lungs, his nose nuzzling against the crook of you neck as he lays his body on top of yours.

It's all encompassing. His presence. His words. His devotion. It feels like a safety blanket, bundling you up in all the things that you were searching for all along when it was right here in front of you the whole time.

"I love you too, Katsuki," you whisper the words you'd left unspoken for far too long against his temple.

He smiles against your skin. He's wrung dry after offering everything up to you, but your words renew him, giving him the strength to push up and ghost his fingertips along your cheek as his crimson eyes bore into your own.

"You will never want again. I'll take care of you from now on," he promises, catching your chin between his thumb and forefinger as he draws you in to another kiss.

This one is slow, sweet, and tender. It's a vow that he will never break.

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou smut #bakugo smut

[justlemmeadoreyou]

rain-kissed* (footballer!harry x

nerd!y/n)

summary: y/n and harry, former rivals turned reluctant partners, find unexpected chemistry. heated glances, playful banter ignite a spark. a near-tragedy makes y/n confront feelings, and...will they be reciprocated? ft. lots of mutual pining

words: 6.1k

warnings: Angst, fluff, mentions of a major injury, cursing, kissing, hints of smut, mutual pining.

Y/N groaned as she walked into the lecture hall for her literature class. "Are you kidding me?"

There in the very front row sat Harry Styles - captain of the football team, president of one of the biggest frats on campus, and certified douchebag extraordinaire. His feet were obnoxiously propped up on the desk in front of him as he laughed loudly with his friends. 

"This class is gonna be a nightmare," Y/N muttered, taking a seat as far away from Harry's circle as possible. She couldn't stand arrogant jocks like him.

Class started and the professor cleared her throat loudly, shooting Harry a pointed look until he dropped his feet to the floor with an eye roll. "Alright, since this is an upper-level lit course, we're going to kick things off with a big group project."

A collective groan went through the class. Group projects were the worst, especially when half the group didn't pull their weight. Harry raised his hand lazily.

"What's the project, Millers?"

The prof narrowed her eyes at Harry's casual address but proceeded. "You'll be analyzing the themes and formatting an anthology of poems, plays, and short stories from a particular era or movement. I'll be assigning the groups and topics."

Y/N mentally prepared herself to get stuck doing all the work as usual for her group when Millers started listing off the pairings. 

"Styles and Y/L/N - you'll be covering the Romantic period."

Y/N's head whipped up in horror as Harry scoffed loudly. Of course they'd get partnered up. This was quite literally her worst nightmare.

"Fucking kill me," Harry grumbled, slumping back in his seat rudely.

"I'd rather work alone," Y/N couldn't stop herself from retorting. Immediately, Millers zeroed in on her with a stern look.

"I don't recall there being a choice, Ms. Y/L/N. Unless either of you plans to drop this course, I suggest you learn to work together effectively."

Gritting her teeth, Y/N forced out a tight, "Yes, Professor."

Harry was already texting rapidly on his phone, not paying any attention. This project was going to be utter hell.

The rest of the semester only proved Y/N right about what a nightmare it would be to work with Harry. Their first meeting to divide up the work went about as well as could be expected - which is to say it was a total disaster.

"Look, I don't have a bunch of time for this bullshit poetry stuff," Harry kicked back in a creaky chair, looking entirely too at home in the empty classroom they'd claimed for their work session. "How about you just do the whole thing and I'll, like, proofread it at the end or whatever?"

Y/N stared at him incredulously. "Absolutely not! This is a hugely weighted project, Styles. I'm not doing all the work myself."

He shrugged impatiently. "Why not? You seem like a big ol' nerd who'd be into this."

Biting back a retort, Y/N forced herself to remain calm and reasonable. If he was going to act like a damn child,she had to be the adult in the relationship–or whatever this was.

 "Forget it. We're going to split everything 50/50 whether you like it or not. I'll take the poetry analysis and you can have the plays. We'll swap sections to proofread before compiling the final thing."

Harry made a face like she'd asked him to perform surgery. "Do I have to? Plays are so boring."

"Don't care," Y/N said flatly. "You're pulling your weight on this one way or another."

With a melodramatic huff, Harry finally agreed and they were able to separate the reading materials and due dates before parting ways, both dreading the long weeks ahead.

Except...after trading several heated email chains and a couple disastrous coffee shop meetups, something shifted. Maybe it was the punctuality that struck after virtually living in the library for a week straight. Maybe it was how they both surprised each other by not being complete idiots about the subject matter. But at some point, the bickering and resentful silences turned to a bearable truce and even - dare Y/N think it - a hint of reluctant respect between them.

Y/N had assumed Harry was just another brainless party bro who skated by on his looks and family money. But to her surprise, he actually had intelligent insights into the Romantic poets and playwrights - even if he still whined about having to read "this dramalogy crap." 

And Harry, who had fully expected Y/N to be an uptight, pretentious book nerd, found himself caught off guard by her whip-smart analysis...and her unexpected sarcastic quips that had him stifling laughs more than once during their study sessions. He called her nerd instead of her usual name, but was now slipping back to using Y/n more often.

"Oh my god, you did not just say that about Lord Byron!" Harry snickered as Y/N made another scalding comment about the poet's arrogant womanizing. 

"What? The man was an infamous manwhore by all accounts," Y/N shrugged unapologetically. "Self-important dickhead thought his brooding and philandering made him a genius."

Harry gasped in mock offense. "How very unromantic of you, love! Have you no poetic soul?"

Without missing a beat, Y/N deadpanned, "I prefer to admire poets who didn't give the clap to half of London."

The startled laugh that burst from Harry's lips was so warm and uninhibited that Y/N felt an unexpected little flip in her stomach at the sight. Whoa, what was that?

Shaking it off, she hid her face behind her book again, tamping down an oddly giddy–sort of feeling. Just because she'd managed to find Harry slightly less insufferable lately didn't mean anything.

And so it went, their bickering gradually becoming more lighthearted and playful rather than biting. The weeks ticked by as they somehow formed an unlikely...friendship? Bros? Sure, they'd go with that for simplicity's sake.

At some point, they started expanding their hangouts beyond just study sessions too. Grabbing food after class turned into actually sitting together, Harry regaling Y/N with stories from his frat's latest shenanigans as she pretended not to be entertained. 

On the rare nights Y/N wasn't holed up writing papers, she started joining Harry and his boys at their favorite dive bar, quickly becoming the calm voice of reason trying in vain to talk them out of their next boneheaded plan.

"Come on, PlainJane! Live a little!" Harry teased, throwing an arm around her shoulders at the bar. 

The rowdy group cackled at Harry's horrible attempt at a literary-themed nickname for Y/N, as per tradition when any new face got absorbed into their friend circle. Personally, Y/N thought it was a lame pun, but she secretly loved how easily she'd slotted into their bizarre fratty family...and maybe especially how Harry always seemed to plaster himself to her side whenever they went out.

The camaraderie and effortless banter flowing between them should've been a huge red flag that something was shifting. But Y/N was quite stubbornly oblivious, as was Harry in his own way.

At least, that was until their big group presentation day rolled around. They'd been prepping and quizzing each other for weeks, reviewing notes and analysis essays till they were cross-eyed. Harry had really stepped up, much to Y/N's surprise, retaining way more than she'd expected about the playwrights and their major works.

The whole lit class was spread out in the lecture hall, with bullet-pointed notecards and thick anthologies ready as the first group took the floor. When it was finally Harry and Y/N's turn, they moved to the front in sync, Harry shooting her a subtle wink as he grabbed the microphone first.

"Buckle up, kids - this is how you do a proper literary presentation," he drawled cockily.

Y/N rolled her eyes on reflex, biting her lip and bumping his hip with hers in playful admonishment. "Shut up and just start already."

Neither of them noticed the amused looks being swapped by their classmates at their easy rapport. Or Millers leaning back with a knowing smirk, clearly recognizing the chemistry flying between her formerly antagonistic partners.

For the next hour, Harry and Y/N launched into their meticulously prepared overview of the key figures and works emerging from the Romantic period. Their back-and-forth was flawless yet casual, almost playful at times with little ad-libs and jokes only they were in on.

At one point, Harry lightly mocked Lord Byron's arrogance with a pompous impression that had Y/N doubled over giggling into the mic, barely choking out the next lines through her laughter. When she managed to catch her breath, she shot him a look that was equal parts fond exasperation and...something more heated.

There was a noticeable spark between them that had clearly evolved far beyond the adversarial classmates they'd started as. And if anyone could miss that subtext, it became blindingly obvious at the end when they seamlessly transitioned into their concluding remarks, standing shoulder to shoulder.

"So in summary, while the Romantics may have been a pretentious bunch of melancholic lads-" Harry began.

"-their pioneering works cemented their place as quintessential figures in literary history," Y/N picked up without missing a beat. 

They shared a grin before finishing in unison, "And that's the tea, no cap."

A surprised burst of laughter rang out from their classmates at their cheeky sign-off, even the prof hiding a smile behind her hand. Everyone could see it - the easy chemistry, the almost electric undercurrent between the former rivals.

Everyone, that is, except Harry and Y/N themselves. 

As they moved to return to their seats amid the applause, neither seemed to register the weighted looks and muffled whispers following them. Harry just ducked his head with an almost bashful smile, still riding the high of how flawlessly they'd worked together. While Y/N felt her cheeks flushing under the weight of what she convinced herself was just residual adrenaline.

In the weeks after their wildly successful presentation, that same strain of electrifying connection only grew stronger between them. You'd never know they'd spent the first half of the semester low-key loathing each other based on their current vibe.

Now, when Harry's frat brothers tried to rib him about his "study buddy" at their typical dive bar hangout, he just threw an arm around Y/N's shoulders and proudly declared, "More like my brain twin!"

Y/N would just duck her head with a bashful grin, pointedly ignoring how her heart did a little somersault at both the affectionate nickname and Harry's easy touch.

Or like when they sprawled out on the quad between classes, passing a bag of chips back and forth as Harry ranted about his coach riding his ass over the big rivalry game next week. Without even thinking about it, Y/N would reach out to squeeze his knee consolingly as he huffed out his frustrations. It was such a simple, natural gesture between them now that she didn't even register the slightly stunned look Harry shot her before clearing his throat gruffly.

Even their friends couldn't resist commenting on their respective obliviousness at this point.

"Bruh, Y/N literally lets you call her 'love' without punching you in the dick," Niall pointed out bluntly one night when Harry claimed, once again, he and Y/N were "just friends." His Irish buddy arched a skeptical eyebrow. "Pretty sure she wants to ride your lancer if you know what I mean."

Harry smacked him hard while trying not to get flustered. "Shut the fuck up, asshole."

While on Y/N's end...

"Sooooo, when are you gonna admit you have a huge crush on Styles?" Her friend Riley asked point blank over brunch, making Y/N nearly choke on her mimosa.

"What? No I don't!" She insisted a little too quickly, refusing to meet Riley's all-knowing gaze. "We're just...really good friends."

Riley hummed disbelievingly. "Right. And I'm the Queen of England."

Y/N opened her mouth to protest further before clamping it shut as her mind started helplessly rehashing all her favourite little moments with Harry over the past few weeks. His warm, anthracite eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed at her jokes. The proud grin he'd get whenever she successfully understood something he'd tried explaining. The way she felt this inexplicable magnetic pull to stay pressed into his side for as long as possible whenever they hung out...

"Oh my god," she breathed out, smile slipping as the enormity of her revelation dawned. "I'm in love with Harry fucking Styles."

That's not to say the smitten epiphany immediately changed anything between the two. Well, maybe it made their lingering hugs and casual touches go on for a few beats too long. Or had them both shyly stealing glances when the other's back was turned.

***

Mostly though, they just continued their cozy, obliviously pining routine of late night FaceTimes and weekends holed up studying together for finals. All while Harry's team prepared for their annual football rivalry game - the biggest matchup of the season that would make or break their championship chances.

The night before the game, Y/N found herself inexplicably anxious as she sat in the stands amid a drunk, raucous crowd. Harry kept shooting cheesy grins and double finger-gunged winks her way whenever he trotted past her section, clearly buzzed on adrenaline.

"Go get 'em, superstar!" She shouted at one point, laughing as Harry blew her an obnoxious kiss before getting back in the huddle.

The energy in the stadium was electric and infectious, Y/N finding herself caught up in the cheers and chants despite not being a huge football fan normally. Something about watching her...Harry out there gave her swirling butterflies low in her belly though.

As the intense game raged on, Y/N was on the edge of her seat, nails digging into her palms whenever Harry took a brutal hit or made a heart-stoppingly risky play. At one point he got absolutely leveled by a linebacker twice his size, his helmet bouncing sickeningly off the turf.The roar of the crowd faded into the background as Y/N watched in horror as Harry's body slammed violently into the turf. She felt her heart stop as he didn't immediately get back up after the brutal hit.

"Harry!" she screamed, her voice drowned out by the gasps of the other spectators. 

The medical team rushed out onto the field as Harry lay unmoving. Y/N's hands shook with fear as she watched them carefully roll him onto a backboard and load him into the ambulance. She felt tears streaking down her cheeks as the ambulance pulled away, sirens blaring.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally received word that Harry was going to be okay. The doctors said he had suffered a severe concussion and possible spinal injury from the whiplash of the hit. He would need weeks of rest and recovery.

Y/N rushed to the hospital, desperate to see him. When she entered his room, her heart broke at the sight of Harry's battered body hooked up to various machines, a cervical collar immobilizing his neck.

"Harry..." she whispered, taking his hand gently in hers. "I'm so sorry."

Harry's eyes fluttered open at the sound of her voice. "Y/N? You're here..."

"Of course I'm here, you idiot," she tried to joke, blinking back more tears. "I was so worried about you."

A small smile tugged at his bruised lips. "I'll be okay, love. Harry is a thick skull, remember?"

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn't help grinning at his terrible joke. "Don't scare me like that again, Styles. I don't know what I'd do without you."

A look of tenderness crossed Harry's face that made Y/N's breath catch in her throat. But before either could say anything further, the doctor entered to check on Harry's condition.

***

Over the next week, Y/N diligently stayed by Harry's side in the hospital. She helped feed him, kept him company, and supported him through the difficult early recovery stages. Harry quickly grew restless being cooped up, but every time he tried to get out of bed against doctor's orders, Y/N was there to scold him.

"You heard what the doctor said, Harry. You need to rest and let your body heal properly," she chastised him one day as he tried to get up.

Harry groaned in frustration. "But I'm going stir crazy in this damn bed! I feel fine, Y/N, honestly."

"No, you don't," Y/N said firmly. "You could have had a serious spinal injury. You're lucky it wasn't worse. Now lie back down before I get the nurses to strap you in."

Grumbling, Harry reluctantly complied, though he continued to hate being so confined and immobile. Little did Y/N know, he was already hatching a plan.

A few days later, Y/N arrived at the hospital only to find Harry's bed empty. Her heart leapt into her throat as she rushed to the nurses' station in a panic.

"Where is he? Where's Harry Styles?" she demanded.

The nurse gave her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, he checked himself out against medical advice earlier today."

"What? No, he can't have!" Y/N cried. She knew immediately where he would have gone.

Sure enough, when she ran across campus to the football practice field, she found Harry standing on the sidelines in his gear, acting as if nothing had happened. White hot fury blazed through her veins.

"Harry!" she yelled, storming toward him as the first raindrops began to fall. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Harry turned with a cocky grin as he saw her approach. "There's my favourite nerd. What's got your panties in a twist, love?"

"You insufferable asshole!" Y/N exploded, not caring that they had an audience of his confused teammates. "The doctor said you needed weeks of rest and recovery! You could have permanently injured your spine!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Relax, babe, I feel great. Probably just overreacted with that whole backboard and neck brace nonsense."

"Are you kidding me right now?" Y/N seethed, hands balling into fists at her sides. Rain began pouring down around them, quickly soaking them both, but she didn't care. "You're incredible, you know that? You have zero self-preservation! No regard for your own safety and well-being!"

"That's a bit dramatic, don't you think?" Harry scoffed, though his casual demeanor faltered slightly under her furious glare.

"Dramatic? You could've been paralyzed, Harry! Doesn't that mean anything to you?" Her voice broke with frustrated tears. "Don't you understand how terrified I was watching you lying there, not moving? I thought...I thought I might lose you."

Something flickered across Harry's features then. His cavalier mask slipped for just a moment, allowing a flash of guilt and tenderness to shine through that sent Y/N's heart lurching treacherously. Then it was gone, the wall snapping back into place.

"Well, I'm right as rain now, so you can quit your worrying," he said gruffly, turning his back on her.

That was the final straw for Y/N. She grabbed his arm and whirled him around to face her, not caring that they were getting drenched by the downpour.

"You're so fucking reckless with yourself, Harry! Like you have zero self-preservation or even an ounce of common sense! Do you have any idea how scary that was to see you lying there, not moving? How I thought..." Her voice hitched, throat growing too tight to continue as burning tears pricked the corners of her eyes.

Through the rapidly blurring vision, Y/N registered Harry staring, chest heaving like she'd actually winded him with her outburst. His hands hung frozen at his sides, knuckles going white as he watched her come completely unraveled. And still she wasn't finished.

"You can't just keep putting yourself in danger like that! Pulling stupid fucking stunts and flipping off your own safety like it doesn't matter! Because it does, Harry. It matters so much to...to me," she finished in a thick whisper, finally allowing a tear to escape and streak down her flushed cheek.  

A weighted silence stretched between them, Y/N struggling to regain her ragged breathing as Harry continued gaping at her, utterly shocked by her reaction. Waves of tension rippled through the small space separating them.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity but was probably only seconds, Harry seemed to recalibrate. His expression went utterly blank for a beat before, out of nowhere, his eyes hardened into flashing jade. When he spoke, his tone was laced with a chilling detachment.  

"Why?"

Y/N blinked owlishly. "W-What?"

"Why the fuck do you care so much, huh?" Harry exploded, eyes flashing as he aimed his scathing hostility directly at Y/N. "Last I checked, I'm not your boyfriend or your family. I'm just some dumb jock you study with, right?"

Y/N flinched at the biting sarcasm, feeling tears prick her eyes anew at his harsh dismissal. But Harry was on a roll, fists clenching and unclenching as he visibly wrestled with...what? Anger? Fear? She couldn't tell, but his next words sliced deep regardless.

"So why do you get to flip out and pass judgment every time I take a hit, huh? You think I don't know how to handle myself out on that field?"

"That's not what I-"

"No, clearly you don't think I have any sense of self-preservation or whatever psychobabble bullshit diagnosis you want to armchair next!" Harry barreled over her attempted protest, voice rising in a sharp crescendo. 

He took a menacing step closer, using his full height to loom over her in a move that likely would've been intimidating...if his eyes didn't look so pained and conflicted behind that mask of bitter anger. "Tell me, Y/N - what gives you the right to freak out like that, huh? To look at me with those scared eyes like you have any claim over whether I live or die or-"

"Because I love you, dammit!" The confession exploded from Y/N with the force of a meteor strike.

A stunned silence fell over the field as Harry gaped at her, mouth hanging open in shock. Even the rain seemed to pause in the heavy tension between them.

After several moments where Y/N felt her panic rising, Harry finally found his voice again. "You...you what?"

Y/N took a shuddering breath, bracing herself. She had come too far to back down now.  

"I love you, Harry," she repeated, slower and more sure this time. "I have for a long time, you idiot. But you're always so reckless and careless 'bout your own safety. You take stupid risks and shrug it off like getting hurt is no big deal!"

She stepped closer, feeling tears mingling with the raindrops on her cheeks. "Don't you understand? The thought of you being seriously injured, or worse...it terrifies me. Because I couldn't handle losing you. You mean everything to me."

Harry continued staring at her, eyes blown wide and lips parted as if her confession had utterly short-circuited his brain. Y/N pressed on, needing to finally unleash all the feelings she had kept bottled up for far too long.

"I love your stupid jokes and your kind heart. I love how passionate you are about football, even if it drives me mental sometimes. I love the way you always smell like sandalwood and make me feel so safe when I'm with you. I'm in love with every obnoxious, laddish, reckless part of you and I can't keep ignoring it anymore."

She let out a wet chuckle, wiping futilely at her drenched face, her hands still shaking. "So yeah, that's why I care, you absolute wanker. That's why seeing you get hurt destroys me every single time, because the thought of being in a world without Harry Styles in it is just too much for me to bear!"

The words hung heavy in the rain-soaked air between them. Y/N watched Harry open and close his mouth a few times, clearly struggling to find a response. For once, his swagger and cockiness had completely deserted him as her feelings poured over him in an unstoppable tide.

Just when the silence was becoming too much for Y/N to bear, Harry finally seemed to find his voice again.

"You...you love me?" he rasped out, the disbelief and wonder evident in his tone. "Like, you're in love with me?"

Y/N felt her cheeks flush hot despite the cold rain. She gave a small nod, unable to meet his intense gaze. Her heart was thundering so loudly in her ears, she barely registered the shouts and hoots coming from Harry's teammates who had witnessed the whole emotional outburst.

"Shut it, you wankers!" Harry barked over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off Y/N.

In two long strides, he closed the distance between them until they were mere inches apart. Y/N's breath caught in her throat as Harry reached up with one hand to gently cup her jaw, tilting her face up toward his.

"Y/N..." he murmured, emerald eyes searching hers intently. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

She let out a shaky laugh, leaning into his touch despite herself. "And ruin our friendship if you didn't feel the same way? I couldn't risk that, Harry. You mean too much to me."

Something blazing and tender flickered across Harry's face at her confession. Slowly, giving her every chance to pull away, he leaned in until their foreheads were resting together. Y/N shivered at the intimate proximity, at the way his familiar woodsy scent surrounded her completely.

"You daft woman," he murmured, the words fanning warmly across her lips and making her shiver for an entirely different reason. "Don't you know there's nothing I want more than for you to be my girlfriend? To be able to love you the way you deserve?"

Y/N's eyes fluttered closed at that, her heart feeling fit to burst from her chest. She had spent so long forcing herself not to hope, not to read into the heated glances and lingering touches she shared with Harry. Could he truly feel the same earth-shattering connection she did?

Her eyes blinked open again at the feeling of Harry's calloused thumb brushing reverently across her rain-soaked cheek. He was staring at her with such naked adoration and longing that it stole the breath from her lungs.

"I'm so bloody gone for you, Y/N," he confessed roughly. "Have been for ages now, if I'm being honest. Thought maybe I was imagining things between us or reading too much into it since I couldn't fathom someone as incredible as you wanting a mug like me."

Y/N opened her mouth to protest, to reassure him that she wanted every infuriatingly charming part of him, but Harry pressed on before she could get the words out.

"Then today, hearing how scared you were when I got laid out...how you thought you could lose me?" He shook his head slowly, curls dripping rivulets of rainwater down the sharp planes of his face and throat. "Don't know how I didn't see it before, love. The way you care about me, put up with all my shite...it's because you love me. Isn't it?"

It wasn't really a question, more like Harry was testing the words out for the first time and savoring the way they sounded. A thrill went through Y/N at getting to be the one to put that Look of rare, hushed awe on his handsome face for once.

"Yes, Harry," she answered anyway, both hands coming up to cradle his beloved face. "I'm desperately in love with you. The good, the bad, the reckless...all of it."

A crinkly-eyed grin stretched across Harry's lips then, brighter and more vibrant than Y/N had ever seen before. He wasted no more time closing that minuscule distance between them, capturing her mouth in a searing, all-consuming kiss.

Y/N gasped against his lips as the dam finally broke, months of too-long denied want and need bubbling over in heated waves. Harry's hands slid into her soaked hair, angling her head to deepen the embrace as he licked hungrily into her mouth. Y/N clung to him just as fiercely, fingernails scraping against his scalp and shoulders as if trying to physically pull him closer.

They were both panting harshly by the time they wrenched apart, sharing the same air in the infinitesimal space between their swollen mouths. Y/N felt drugged by the glazed, predatory darkness swimming in Harry's blown pupils,by the intimate glide of their rain-drenched bodies.

"Fucking finally," he growled against her lips before diving back in, one large hand splaying possessively across the small of her back.

Y/N hummed in ardent agreement, getting lost in his dizzying taste and scent and touch once more.  It felt like a cosmic star had been reborn between them, the force of their crashing inevitability obliterating all the hurt and confusion from before.

Neither was sure how long they stayed like that, trading desperate, drugging kisses amongst the pouring rain. But eventually, Harry pulled away just enough to nose his way along Y/N's jaw, lips dragging hotly up to her ear.

"Let's get out of this downpour, hmm?" he husked, teeth grazing her shell and making her shudder. "Got some making up to do for being such a blind tosser."

Y/N pulled back just enough to catch the incandescent fire blazing in his darkened gaze. Her breath hitched at the onceiled promise flickering there, at the tips of his wicked fingers already slipping beneath the drenched hem of her top.

It seemed she wasn't the only one who had been harboring some pent-up longing and hunger.

Still, there was one loose end she couldn't resist tugging before allowing Harry to whisk them away...  "Does this mean you're finally going to start taking better care of yourself?" she asked archly, arching one pointed brow. "No more stupid, reckless stunts for my idiotically brave footballer?"

Harry audibly groaned, dropping his forehead dramatically against her clavicle as his hands flexed with bruising force against her hips.

"Whatever you want, love," he conceded gruffly. "No more injuries or shite, I swear it. Now can we please get the fuck out of here before I embarrass myself further by ravishing you in the mud right in front of my teammates?"

Y/N gave a squeak of surprise as Harry abruptly ducked to gather her up in his arms, hitching her legs around his waist in one fluid movement. He sealed his wicked promise with another lingering, molten kiss that left her head spinning.

"Now, where were we..." he growled darkly before striding determinedly off the field, Y/N clinging just as fiercely in his embrace.

The teammates' raucous catcalls and laughter faded into the rainy background as Y/N tucked her face into the curve of Harry's neck, savoring his familiar sandalwood and smoke and the feeling of being wrapped in his arms at last.

She was never letting him go again. Not if she had any say in it.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

tell me if you like this! please reblog or comment if you like, it makes my heart happy :)

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[hideawaysis]

hello. absolutely hate involving myself in fandom drama, but ifeel this is an important post to make as i have seen a lot of people taking a certain post at face value and believing it.

im referring to this one, made by @/realultimatehater

now, before i say these things, i feel the need to preface this by saying that i do not personally wish to align myself in this fandom debate. i am a tax-paying adult and do not have any energy or time to put into arguing about a tv show on the internet. nonetheless, i have seen people blindly spreading this post around and i feel this needs to be addressed.

this person is lying.

it feels like it should be obvious with the levels of "down with cis bus" energy pulsating off of this, but it's a huge fucking lie.

this person is a known harasser and has targeted children in the past. they will do anything, and i mean ANYTHING to rack up attention and internet points. they have made bold claims like this with little to no evidence in the past all so they can garner more hatred for certain fandoms on the internet. testimonies here and here, and some pretty damning screenshots here.

i advise you all to stop reblogging the post ive shown. it's disinformation, a story fabricated to direct more vitriol towards a fandom with little to no proof that it can somehow make people like this or attract people like this. this person is either a troll or just plain deranged. please stop believing what they say.

tags added for reach.

edit: i received an anonymous ask giving me extra information on this topic, apparently this person is in fact an internet troll who has gone under countless aliases and will often fake identities in order to ruin the reputations of others. more information here and here.

edit 2: another anon ask gave me a preserved version of a post from realultimatehater's first account, showing how they'd crop screenshots of dms in order to make it look like they were being harassed for simply having a negative opinion on hazbin hotel. here's the post, though do know the reblog is from a supporter of them, make of that what you will. here's another version of the post ifound showing how they'd bait people into saying these kinds of things in order to make them look bad. and here's another one! wow!

i also found a few asks showing how this person would literally approach hazbin fans and just blatantly insult them, rather than blocking them. because yeah, when you detest a fandom, you clearly must stir up conflict! that'll keep them away from you! said asks can be viewed here and here

edit 3: the anon i received telling me realultimatehater was an internet troll who'd been trolling people for years apparently was not being truthful, this does not discredit the other evidence ive listed but id really appreciate if people would stop spreading that ask around. ive removed the link to the ask, sincere apologies to anyone affected by that

#hideawaysisposting #hazbin #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #anti hazbin hotel #anti hazbin #anti helluva boss #vivziepop #anti vivziepop

[beelmons]

okay okay but imagine there’s a case where like the team needs reader to go undercover in like a bar/club or something to lure the unsub and so spencer gets to see her in a club environment like all dolled up for a night out and dancing slutty and he has no idea how to react

A/N: hehehehe this was fun cw: fem!reader, reader uses a dress

A gala. A fucking gala. Are you kidding me? Couldn't the unsub pick a more comfortable setting? Didn't he know just how uncomfortable doing police work was in heels? Of course he didn't, the profile told you as much. White male, 35 to 45, his recent stressor was losing his company due to bad management, his "loving" wife left him for his more economically stable former partner.

Clear as ice, he didn't know one thing about empathy. Oh, well, occupational hazards. You weren't an absolute stranger to a tight dress and fancy dress shoes. Your instruction was to fit in, as was Spencer's, the team member that was chosen to pose as the person you would try to seduce.

The ruse was simple. You'd arrive at a certain time with your "husband", fellow Agent Morgan, who'd leave early due to a work issue. Girl alone in a gala full of wealthy couples, you would then find a suitor to entertain you whlie your husband was working hard to give you the life you ever wanted.

Unfaithful, ungrateful women, just like the victims he was after.

To avoid much suspicion, Spencer was forced to remain at the bar. Once you had gotten a handful of potential suspects, you would reach him and begin the seduction game, prompted by a verbal cue that you would give to the bartender.

And, in time, the occasion had arrived.

"Cosmopolitan." you ordered the barman "Virgin."

That was the sign for Spencer, who was now standing next to you, to begin playing his part. However, the second he laid eyes on you, his brain was wiped blank.

"G-Good morning." he said albeit it being around eleven in the evening.

You let out a half-fake, fully-amused chuckle. "I guess it's morning someplace around the globe, hm? What's a handsome gentleman like you doing on his own on a 'morning' like this?" you tried to ease the conversation, as if trying to redirect him to the original planned dialogue.

"I-" he tried again, still unable to gather his thoughts "You look so beautiful." he thought outloud.

You blinked rapidly. That was not the exchange you had agreed on having.

"Reid. Stay on script." Hotch murmured into his earpiece.

"Right." he muttered to himself and cleared his throat "Pardon. I'm afraid your beauty stunned me." he laughed awkwardly, signature of him. "I'm Spencer, I own a psychiatric practice."

"Handsome and a doctor?" you landed a hand on his shoulder, and you could see him physically redden "Must be my lucky night."

Both of you could feel the threatening stare of the unsub somewhere among the attendants. You had successfully baited him, and it was time to guide him out.

The ruse continued and, eventually, justice came up triumphant. Of course, your ever so dedicated girlfriends had a set of tennis shoes and a FBI jacket ready for the go. You were debriefing the situation with the boss in his office, while Spencer simply observed from his desk.

Your hair was undone, makeup faded from the sweat, and your jacket was twice your size. Nonetheless, the vivid picture of your dolled-up image remained engraved in his mind. Accordingly, his heart rate was elevated, cheeks flushed, and body hot. He was never going to be able to look at you the same, that much was clear.

"You look so beautiful" a mocking voice in his ear startled him, causing him to bolt up.

It was Derek Morgan, with a taunting, all-knowing grin. Behind him, Penelope Garcia, whom had witnessed the exchange on the camera Reid carried on his tie, laughing at the teasing.

"Shut up." the blond quietly grunted.

"It's okay, boy wonder, she looked really great." Garcia mentioned.

"Seriously, kid, a cleavage like that, I would have lost my IQ too." Morgan added, earning a playful hit from Penelope.

Spencer rolled his eyes at Morgan and quickly shoved the file he was drafting into his bag. Without a further word, he hid into the briefing room to work uninterrupted.

At least, that's the excuse he had made up for himself. Truth was, if he looked at you any further, Morgan was going to be teasing him for a completely different, very hard thing.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds blurb #blurb: mine #blurb: spencer #blurb: criminal minds

[animentality]

I got sad because I realized that the only good relationship that Dark Urge and Gortash had was with each other.

Gortash got sold by his parents, was abused in hell, barely escaped, and then spent the rest of his life plotting and scheming and refusing to get close to anyone, ultimately even selling another child he took in to the same nightmarish life he'd once escaped from.

Dark Urge was forced to kill their foster family by Bhaal, and then went to a Bhaal temple, where they might've been worshipped, but I highly doubt that the murder cult weirdos really thought of them as a person, and not just an object of worship. It is awful lonely up on that bloody pedestal. Plus the way they beg Bhaal for forgiveness for liking Gortash makes me suspect that it's never happened before.

And then I hold my little heart in my hands and weep for the two of them.

Because I know gortash is a piece of shit who refuses to break the cycle of abuse. And I know the dark urge has murdered a shit ton of people and enjoyed it too.

But...but...your honor ...I still feel sympathy.

I still felt sadness in the house of hope, when that asshole admitted he used to beat Gortash black and blue for fun.

I still felt grief when I read dark urge's letter to their god for ADMIRING someone.

For caring about a person.

And then I found out that dark urge had been living a normal life until they killed their foster parents.

You can say that dark urge enjoyed it, but I just don't think that's the case.

Baldur's Gate 3 has some laughably evil villains but there is nuance. There is humanity in most of the characters, good, evil, and morally gray. Even big baddies. Ketheric Thorm notably has a rather sad backstory full of grief, loneliness, and love turned to madness, Gortash was broken as a child by parents who shattered his ability to care for anyone but himself, and even Orin, if you confront her about Sarevok's relationship to her mother, can even be seen as a tragic figure. Like what the fuck, her own mom tried to kill her as an offering to bhaal.

Maybe all bhaalspawn are laughably one dimensional villains with absolutely no human traits to them, but that's just fucked.

One of my favorite themes is how everyone is a slave to the gods, their playthings, their disposal tools.

Poor Ketheric Thorm said it best when he said that we're just copper pieces to be traded, that we might have beaten him, but the gods beat him first.

He's so right, man. Most if not all the companions are slaves to Gods and devils.

Dark Urge was a slave to Bhaal, just a means to an end, a sharpened blade pressed against the world's throat, and Gortash was the plaything of devils, traded away by parents who didn't care about him, a powerless little boy who'd grow up to be a tyrannical power hungry despot.

I choose to believe they recognized each other. They worked together initially because they had their own agendas, and were doing their usual song and dance of manipulating others, but the more time they spent together, the more they actually liked each other.

They were genuinely friends, or lovers, and it's sickening and it's driving me mad, and it's all so sad.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #ketheric thorm #dark urge #enver gortash #goretash #durgetash

[blueberrylemontea-fanfic]

Sidenote

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, oral sex (male & female recieving), fingering, piv, unprotected sex (DON'T)

Summary: When your boyfriend cheats on you, you turn to your best friend for comfort.

Eddie had hardly heard the knock on the trailer door over the clattering rain. He was a little confused who'd be showing up here at 12:30 at night, especially in this weather.

"Y/n? What are you...?"

"Can I come in?" You interrupted him.

"Yeah, of course. Come on in."

Eddie stepped out of the doorframe to let his best friend pass. The water ran of your leather jacket, but the rest of you was entirely soaked.

"I'll go get you a towel," Eddie offered, but before he even turned around you interjected

"Ryan cheated on me."

Eddie stopped dead in his tracks.

"Ryan what now?" He fumed.

"Ryan cheated on me. With Stephanie of all people. I got to Michael's party tonight and he was fucking her in a bathroom. Real class-act."

"I'm so sorry, Y/n. He's an absolute moron, you know that, right?"

Eddie's arms engulfed you into a tight hug, his shirt getting soaked in a matter of seconds, but he didn't care.

"What can I do to cheer you up? Want to watch a gorey movie? Pretend everyone that gets dismembered is him? I don't have ice cream or any of that stereotypical break-up crap, but I've got beer."

You gave a non-committal shake of your head, so Eddie continued.

"You wanna numb the pain? You know I've got the best medicine in town." He smirked as he pulled an old joint from his front pocket.

You nodded and Eddie's eyes lit up, glad he was able to help.

"I don't want weed though," you said, clouding Eddie's face in confusion.

"Alright. Did you come here for something stronger? 'Cause I thought you didn't do that."

You shook your head.

"Okay... Then I'm confused, here. How can I help, angel?"

You caught his gaze, looking at him so intently that for a moment he stopped fidgeting and floundering for something to get you. Just long enough to make him suddenly aware you'd never stepped back from the hug, your waterlogged shirt still pressed against his chest.

"I want you to fuck me, Eddie."

Eddie's heart caught in his throat.

"You...what?"

"I want you to fuck me," you repeated.

"Why?" Eddie was having a hard time focussing. He hated to admit how much he wanted you to be serious about this.

"Because I'm hurt, and I wanna feel good. Because otherwise this is just going to be a very sad night and I don't want that. And a little because I want to hurt him. That okay?"

Instead of answering your question, Eddie asked you another one

"Why me?"

"Because I like you. Because I trust you. And because, between you and the girl's bathroom, I hear things. I know you're the best kept secret in town."

Eddie smirked at your seductive tone, he knew you weren't exactly wrong either.

"Y/n, are you sure about this? You're upset, I don't want you to do anything you'll regret in the morning. Besides I quite like being your friend."

"And you still will be. You're my best friend, Eds. There's nothing you can do that'll change that. It'll just be a sidenote in our friendship. We'll just be friends that fucked that one time."

Eddie chuckled.

"I'm here because I want this, Eds. I want you."

"Fuck, say that again."

"I want you, Eddie."

His mouth was on you before you'd finished saying his name.

You felt a wave of relieve when his body covered your own, the tension flowing right out of you.

Eddie had you pinned against the cupboards, the edges pressing into your head and upper legs, but you couldn't care less. All you could think about were Eddie's hands on you, one on the small of your back, pressing you impossibly close to him, the other wound tightly in your hair.

The kiss was rough and needy.

Eddie was kissing you like he needed your air to breathe. You gladly threw yourself into the kiss just as passionately. You wrapped your arms around his neck and one of your legs around his waist.

You needed him closer. You needed to feel every inch of him against you. Flames bloomed on your skin in every spot he touched.

Eddie's fingers slipped under your wet shirt, trailing a featherlight pattern up your sides.

You hummed at his touch.

You tugged on the bottom of your shirt, signaling to Eddie to take it off, which he wasted no time at all with. His hands trailed up your body, hiking your shirt along with them. He pushed your shirt over your head and wrapped his hand around your neck. He gave you a searing kiss before letting his lips trail down your neck. His teeth scraped against your skin, marking you up.

You threw your head back against the cupboard when Eddie nipped at your collarbone. His kisses dropping down to your cleavage. He thumbed your nipple through the fabric of your bra softly, sending a small shiver down your back.

"Can I take this off?"

You nodded. "But only if you take off yours too."

Eddie tugged his shirt over his head in one swift motion before undoing your bra. Eddie slowly slipped it off you, admiring you as he did.

"Fuck, your tits are perfect," he sighed as he took one of your nipples in his mouth.

You could feel Eddie's right hand slip down your stomach, his fingers just breaching the elastic of your panties.

"This okay?" He mumbled, his face still occupied with worshipping your nipples.

"Please don't stop," you whispered needily.

You felt Eddie's self-satisfied smirk against your skin.

"Wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart."

He slipped his fingers further down your panties, the cold of his rings giving you goosebumps. His middle finger found your clit. You let out a breathy moan as he rubbed slow circles on you.

"You're so wet already, baby. I've barely even touched you yet."

Eddie grinned smugly as he pushed a finger into you.

"Eddie!"

"Hmm that's right sweetheart, say my name."

You moaned his name again as he picked up his pace, the palm of his hand pressed against your clit.

Eddie was a wonderful multitasker. His mouth had restarted its assault on your neck and his left thumb was still stimulating your nipples as he added a second finger to your pussy.

Your entire body was electrically charged. You knew you weren't going to be able to hold out for long.

Eddie's pace was brutal, but it still wasn't enough. You nudged Eddie's cheek with your nose, his eyes locking on yours, following them as they travelled down to where his hand disappeared in your underwear.

"More. Please," you moaned lowly.

This time you caught Eddie's wicked grin.

"You want more, baby?" He teased.

You nodded desperately, not even pretending like you wouldn't absolutely beg for him if he made you.

"Ask me nicely."

Your whole body seemed to whine. "Please, Eddie. Please give me another finger. Please."

It should have been embarrassing how quickly he had you begging for him, but it turned Eddie on to no end.

Effortlessly, he pushed a third finger into you, relishing in the sound that escaped your throat.

"You like that, baby?" Eddie whispered in your ear. "You like it when I stretch you out."

You nodded feverishly. "Yes, Eddie."

Eddie licked his lips, his tongue brushing the edge of your earlobe.

"Well then you're gonna love what I've got in store for you later."

The bottom of your stomach nearly dropped out at the thought.

Eddie nipped your earlobe unexpectedly and you yelped.

"Are you close, sweetheart?"

Eddie sensed the slight clenching around his fingers, the increased rhythm in your panting.

You nodded.

"You want to cum for me?"

Another nod.

"Good girl" he cooed. I

f you weren't sitting down your knees would have given out for sure.

" 's okay, baby. You can cum for me soon."

The glint in his eyes would have been a warning if you hadn't been so close to the brink of euphoria.

Without a word, Eddie hooked your left leg over his shoulder. A scream ripped through your throat as Eddie's fingers shifted deeper inside of you. You were stretched around him so good, it felt like he was splitting you open.

"That's it, Y/n. You can cum for me now on one condition, baby. Scream for me." Eddie whispered in your ear as you finally let go.

You dug your nails into the kitchen counter as well as Eddie's shoulder as your orgasm burst through you. You screamed out Eddie's name followed by a string of profanities as you pulsed around Eddie's fingers, which were still buried deeply inside of you. He held them firmly in place until you had ridden out your orgasm.

You leaned against the cupboards, a heaving mess when he pulled his hand away.

He held your eyes as he pushed one of his fingers past his lips, sucking it clean before doing the same with another one.

With a smirk and a quirked eyebrow he held his middle finger out to you, watching in awe as you painstakingly leaned forward and sucked his finger all the way into your mouth with ease.

Your tongue swirled around his finger, licking up your own juices before you popped your mouth off of his hand.

"Jesus Christ, you're so hot." Eddie smiled like a fox in a henhouse. "You ready for round two, angel?"

Your eyes widened, but before you could answer Eddie swept you off the counter and carried you through the trailer. He tossed you on the bed, watching you bounce slightly before settling into his mattress.

"Hey, Eds?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"Cuff me."

Eddie licked his lips. "The cuffs? Really?"

You nodded gingerly, "Yeah, I always thought that sounded really hot."

"My, my, Y/n... never would've guessed you were a freak like me."

Eddie grabbed the handcuffs from their hook on the wall and ran the chain past one of the radiator pipes.

"Hold out your hands."

He clicked the cuffs shut around your outstretched wrists. The cuffs had a pretty long chain, but they did link your wrists pretty close together.

Eddie took your hand and pushed your arms up over your head, his body pressing down on yours.

"Remember, Y/n," he whispered in your ear, "I can take these off whenever you want."

You smiled as Eddie kissed down your body again, teasing every inch of you until he reached the hem of your jeans. He slowly undid the button and pulled down the zipper.

He snapped the waistband of your underwear softly. "Can I take these off?"

You chuckled softly "Hurry up already, would you?"

"Oh you're gonna regret that, sweetheart, believe you me..."

Eddie grinned as he eased you out of your clothes. He pushed your legs up as he settled between your thighs. He trailed kisses along the insides of your thighs, moving closer and closer to your entrance until you were squirming with anticipation.

"You're a needy little thing, aren't you?"

"Eddie..." You whined.

"It's alright, angel, it's alright. I'm right here."

Eddie's tongue licked over your sensitive folds. It wasn't long before he had your back arching of the mattress, his tongue delving into you expertly.

Your fingers tugged on Eddie's curls as he brought you to the brink off another orgasm. You could feel the pressure building in your stomach, more intense than your previous orgasm.

"I'm so close Eddie," you moaned out. "Fuck, you're gonna make me cum so hard, please don't stop."

Eddie loved to hear you talk, lived for the sounds he could wrangle from you.

You felt the dam burst inside of you as Eddie pushed you over the edge. Your thighs clenched around his head as you screamed out his name once again.

Eddie watched you as you came down from your second high of the night. Your eyes were clenched shut, your head thrown back as your body convulsed.

He studied you as you panted and heaved. But most of all, he committed to memory the absolutely blissful smile on your lips.

"Holy shit, I can't wait to fuck you. You are just the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen."

"Nobody's stopping you, Munson," you were still breathing heavily, your legs trembling softly.

Eddie smiled a Cheshire cat smile.

"You sure you can handle it, sweetheart?"

His voice was sugary sweet.

You knew exactly what he wanted from you.

"You want me to beg for you, Eds? Want to hear me say how badly I want to feel you inside of me?"

"Look who's suddenly got a big mouth. You didn't sound so tough when I was making you cum, darling. That's alright, angel, I'll make you beg for it, no worries."

Eddie circled your sensitive clit, the overstimulation making you hold back a moan. He sofltly grazed your thigh as he picked up his speed. No matter how you tried, you couldn't hold back a yelp.

" 's Too much Eds," you gulped.

"You sure about that, angel? Really can't take anymore?"

You wanted to, so badly, but the pressure was too much...

So you said the only thing you could think of.

"How about you give my big mouth something to do first?"

Eddie genuinely laughed.

"You really are an angel, huh? Alright, sweetheart. Let's put that mouth to good use."

Eddie slowly removed his pants before moving over you. He leaned in for a soft kiss.

"You sure about this, Y/n?" He whispered in your ear.

"I wanna know what you taste like, Eds."

Eddie nearly died.

You moved your cuffed hands forward and held them out to Eddie's face. He raised an eyebrow at you and was met with an expectant look. He grinned before he spit in your hands.

"We should've done this a long time ago..."

Your hands wrapped around his cock, spreading his spit along his length. You moved your hands along him, revelling in the sounds he made, before pushing yourself up slightly and wrapping your lips around his head. You moved along his length, taking more of him into your mouth with each movement.

Eddie was trying not to move his hips into you, you could feel him straining against you. You pulled your mouth off him with a pop.

"You want to fuck my mouth, Eds?" You asked innocently. "All you gotta do is ask."

"You are so incredibly hot, Y/n." Eddie's voice was hoarse. "Would you do me the incredible honour of letting me fuck your mouth, angel?"

You nodded eagerly and licked down the underside of Eddie's cock before sucking him back down, agonizingly slowly.

"Sweet jesus, Y/n, you feel so good," Eddie groaned.

He slowly pushed his hips forward, you hollowed your cheeks and swirled your tongue around him. Eddie was rolling his hips into you, one hand tangled in your hair, the other holding himself up against the wall.

He looked at you adoringly while you stared up at him. "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, Y/n. You look fucking fantastic in between my legs."

His hips moved faster, jerking almost out of his control. "Fuck, angel, I need to fuck you so badly, and I can't do that if I keep doing this."

You increased your pressure for just a second before popping off of him.

"Fuck," Eddie groaned. He was on top of you in a second.

"You want me to fuck you, Y/n? Because lord Jesus, I don't think I've ever wanted to fuck anybody so badly."

"Fuck, Eddie, I need you inside of me, please, baby, I want to feel you."

Eddie moaned as he slipped into you. He snapped his hips up into you as you cried out his name.

"Fuck, Eddie, yes," you moaned.

Eddie was stretching you out so well, you could feel him everywhere.

"Harder, please," you begged.

Eddie moaned out your name as he pounded into you faster. You wrapped your cuffed arms around him, straining against the restrictions.

Eddie pressed needy, sloppy kisses against your neck. You moaned out his name over and over again.

"Fuck, angel, I'm so close," he sighed.

"Me too, Edds. You're so good. Feel so fucking good, baby."

Eddie groaned as he pushed your leg up between you. You cried as he hit deeper inside of you. Eddie snaked his hand between you and started rubbing circles on your clit.

You screamed out his name as your orgasm took over you. Your nails dug into his back. You thought you might pass out. Eddie let you ride out your orgasm as he kept circling your clit. It was too much. Too good.

Eddie came with your name on his lips. He was stunning, pure bliss washing over his face.

He leaned down, still buried deep inside of you, and kissed you, slowly, tentatively. "You're incredible, angel."

"Best kept secret in town," you whispered back at him.

Eddie pulled out and undid the handcuffs. You both got cleaned up and dressed again.

You kissed him softly. "Thanks, Eddie."

"The pleasure was all mine, fair maiden. How you feeling?"

"Like you turned the worst night of my life into the best. He never made me feel like that."

Eddie shrugged. "You were too good for him anyways."

"You mind if I stay the night?"

"Mi trailer es su trailer."

You hopped back onto the bed, thumbing through the dvd's on the floor in search of something that was both gorey and funny.

Eddie dropped down next to you.

"So, this whole sidenote-thing, you sure you meant a sidenote and not, let's say, sidenotes, plural?"

You turned to him, grinning.

"I think we've got room for a few more."

#stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things imagine #eddie x reader smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader

[hatchetno1]

hello hi wifi bet you won't do a scenerio where you're baking together with the pastas ‼️ I want messy ass kitchen shenanigans ‼️ who'd make a mess yet have delicious food? super clean but disgusting food?

if you don't wanna do this it's ok 🐧

hey penpen!! dw about it, since this scenario is a wholesome one i’ll try to write the wholesome fanon version of them so here goes

cw: wholesome. if you're looking for dark content, I'M SORRY word count: 482

toby would MESS THE FUCK UP like no joke the counter is full of flour there are chocolate chips everywhere. toby goes “CHOCOLATE CHIPS CHOCOLATE CHIPS—WOO!” it’s to the point you can’t tell if the whooping is real or if it’s a vocal tic.

the food you made comes out…decent. because all he did was just dump a full bag of chips into the cookie dough. no way in hell are you letting him touch the food. oh, but cleanup is going to be a pain.

ben can’t bake so he just watches you.

actually you don’t know if he can’t touch the stuff because he’s an apparition or if it’s because he just…doesn’t want to.

baking with ben is miserable. you cannot convince me otherwise. but he eats the food like a little bitch anyway.

bonus: he calls the whole mansion over to eat the cookies while you’re asleep so you have none left for breakfast/snacks tomorrow.

jeff… uh. i can see him absolutely torching the place. baking with him is barely baking, it’s more of trying to get him not to blowtorch the dough to bake it.

“y/n what if i blowtorch the whole thing” no. no, jeff. that’s not how it works.

but if you’re dating jeff, chances are you’re the type to let your intrusive thoughts win anyway.

there is no food when you’re done.

ej is actually decent!! he’s calm and collected and he knows what he’s doing. it’s more likely that you don’t know what you’re doing and he guides you.

oh, he stands behind you and gently holds your hands and guides you in kneading the dough, and you feel his breath on your neck and he says “yes, that’s it, darling. you’re doing so well.”

you’re too busy blushing by the end of it to actually savor the cookies. and all you can think of when eating the leftovers the next day is how he held you…

you’re saving baking with ej for a special occasion. your heart can’t handle this.

not sure if you want slenderman but i really cannot imagine him baking as the operator. but i did say it’ll be wholesome so here goes

slender’s tentacles basically do everything for you. “don’t worry,” he says, “I’ll do all the work. sit back and relax, my dear.” he reassures you that it’s not a burden and insists, but when you whine that it’s not fun when you don’t do it together, he lets up.

he still doesn’t let you do a lot of work though. but occasionally he’ll scoop up a bit of dough from the bowl and feed you, so you can’t complain.

if you decide to cheekily suck on his finger, he’ll chuckle.

“my dear, we can save that for later. it is unsanitary.” you pout as he washes his hands again.

the cookies come out delicious though. you can’t complain.

and he feeds you by hand. and you get to suck on his fingers playfully. you can’t complain.

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x you #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta fanfic #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta scenarios #slenderman x reader #ticci toby x reader #eyeless jack x reader #ben drowned x reader #jeff the killer x reader #ben drowned #slenderman #jeff the killer #eyeless jack #ticci toby #slenderman headcanons #ticci toby headcanons #jeff the killer headcanons #eyeless jack headcanons #ben drowned headcanons #slenderman drabbles #eyeless jack drabbles #jeff the killer drabbles #ben drowned drabbles #ticci toby drabbles #hatchet writes

[nicole-alt-delete]

It was a hot summer day in Hawkins and the kids had dragged them into helping with some game once again. Eddie was more than thrilled to help, Robin had managed to escape with Nancy on a "supply run" and Steve was currently taking orders from Max, the only one of them who'd remembered to say please.

Eddie wasn't really sure what the end goal was but it seemed like they were one step away from LARPing- just changed the name so Max and El would still play. He was helping Will by carving this big fuck-all stick into a cane for him when the gravel behind him crunched under someone's feet, and a second later Steve was saying "Hey, I'm borrowing this- Thanks-" Not stopping for the answer before Eddie felt a tug at his back pocket.

He instantly whipped around, spluttering, "Absolutely not-"  and before Steve could even take a step he was fiercely gripping his black bandana taut between them like the world's saddest game of tug of war. Steve loosened his grip a little, making a point of not tugging on it or ripping it, just looking confused as he waited for an explanation.

Eddie blushed for a moment, realizing the position he'd put himself in, how protective he got over a little piece of fabric. He stammers for a second, "I- you can't just- I need that man,"

Steve quirks an eyebrow at him, clueless. "What do you mean you need it? It's been in your pocket every day and I've only seen you actually wear it once. C'mon just for today- the girls don't have any hair ties and I need to put my hair up, it's killing me,"

He sighs a little, fully aware there's nothing reasonable he could say to Steve here. He very much cannot tell him that he *needs* it just in case some hot guy walks by and happens to know what it means. That's ridiculous- especially when the guy he most wants to see it is the one tugging it away from him in the first place. Steve has no idea what it means and Eddie doesn't expect him to but it still drives him insane thinking that it could happen.

Alternatively, the idea of Steve putting his hair back with Eddie's bandana drives him a little insane too.

So he blushes, sighs, and lets go of it. Points at Steve firmly, "You better give that back Harrington, or I swear-"

Steve smiles and starts walking backwards with it, already rolling it up into a hairband as he cuts him off, "Yeah, I know Eds, you can hold it against me forever, promise,"

He runs off back to the other kids and Eddie shakes his head at him, flustered and annoyed, and forgetting himself until Will clears his throat behind him.

He doesn't say anything but he's smiling and making this little face as he looks away from Eddie, like he knows something.

"So uh. The stick?"

"Right- yes- stick- cane- it's a cane for a mighty wizard, let's go,"

--

He didn't think he'd notice it so much, but the empty feeling in his pocket is driving him crazy. He'd been wearing that stupid thing since he learned it was a thing people do- a stolen trip up to the city on a bus he snuck onto, a weekend as a runaway before he sucked it up and went back home.

Someone had called him queer and he turned expecting a fight only to see a group of freaks who stood out more than himself. They had smiled and asking him why he was all alone, and been worried. One wanted to make sure Eddie hadn't been kicked out. Another wrapped her scarf around him, and before he knew it he was in the back of a gay bar with people he'd never met and felt like he could tell anything to.

The idea of proudly wearing something that singled him out- but only to the right people- made his hart light up. It was like a new language, like thieves' cant, something secret and magic.

He'd spent hours asking about colors and being confused and rightfully embarrassed by more than a few of the answers. Some sounded better than others, some made his face flush. At the end of the day he felt better than he had in ages and he had the courage to go back home to Wayne.

Before he got back on a bus he stopped into a second hand shop and grabbed the first black bandana he could find. He debated the whole ride home which side to put it on. When he walked back up to the trailer door ready to apologize, it hung proudly out of his back left.

--

Eddie had let Steve wear it home and it was killing him, but they had stayed out late and he half forgot anyways, and Steve's hair did look pretty cute pushed back like that. Steve had promised to give it back anyways, and Eddie trusted him fully.

He just also really, really, really wanted it back as soon as possible.

So for once he got up before noon (barely- just after eleven,)  and made his way to Family Video and hopped Steve had left it in his car or something so that he could get it back then and there.

What he wasn't expecting was to walk in and see Steve bent over behind the counter with the damn thing hanging out of his right pocket, as if he had any goddamn idea what that meant.

Eddie nearly had a heart attack and was thankful the store was empty like it always was so he could sprint over, jump the counter and yank the thing out of his pocket immediately.

"What do you think you're doing wearing it like that?!"

Steve had barely registered the jingle from the door, let alone Eddie launching himself at him, and was thoroughly surprised to say the least, nearly knocking over a display as he reacted.

"Hey!  Jesus man- you can't be- what's the big deal??? That's exactly how you wear it all the time- I was just keeping it safe til I saw you again,"

He stared at Eddie properly confused, a little on guard still from how suddenly he had leapt over and how worked up he seemed.

Eddie took a deep breath and sighed, folding the bandana up in his hands and just holding it for a moment, debating what to tell Steve.

After a second Steve makes this little head movement like 'well? go on?' clearly waiting for an explanation and Eddie rolls his eyes and sighs.

"It's- Look, Stevie, you can't wear it like that, you're not- I mean it's. It's like- a symbol, okay?"

Steve leans on the counter and frowns, confused.

"A symbol?"

"Yes- yeah, like- like those little cross necklaces moms wear or Dustin's star wars shirts. They're symbols....for the same kind of people to pick up on,"

He struggles with the words, trying hard to insinuate just enough without giving it all away, still hesitantly afraid of Steve's reaction.

But Steve just looks thoughtful. Nodding a little, putting a finger to his lip as the gears turn.

"So- okay, what's it symbolize then?"

He'd been hoping Steve wouldn't make it that far.

"It's- uh. It's really not..."

Steve stares, "Man I'm not gonna judge you- just- why's it such a big deal that I can't wear it like that too?"

Eddie can't help but laugh, "If anyone who knows what it means saw YOU with it- you would- no, you'd set yourself on fire I'm sure of it,"

He shakes his head, holding the bandana tighter in his fists.

Steve only frowns though, "Eds, what's it mean? If you don't tell me I'll just get my own and wear it until someone else does,"

Eddie looks mildly terrified by the idea but laughs at it all the same. "No- No, god do not do that Harrington-"

"Then tell me,"

"I can't, it's really-"

"Eddie, I'm gonna steal it back,"

And he does, reaches for the bandana in his hands as Eddie pulls away, the two of them starting to bicker and wrestle for it, each equally stubborn until the point that Steve actually does manage to grab it.

The tension gets to him and Eddie can't help it anymore, he just blurts, "It means I'm gay, Steve!"

It makes Steve pause and Eddie uses the moment to grab it back and quickly shove it in his back pocket again, blushing furiously and hoping Steve doesn't take it too badly.

Steve's mouth opens a little to say something in response, but the door jingles and his head snaps to it, Eddie instantly hitting the floor because he's still behind the counter where he most certainly should not be.

A man comes in and asks where the new releases are and Steve happily helps him, leaving Eddie plenty of time to crawl out from behind the counter and sneak out. He almost gets away with it too, but the door opens again, jingles and Steve twists his head.

"Eddie, wait- We're not done- I'll talk to you about this later!"

Eddie doesn't look back at him as he runs out the door past Robin who had been bringing lunch back for her and Steve. She tries to greet him but he just blurts "Gotta go, Buckley," and darts past.

If he'd looked back he would have noticed how red Steve's face was. Part 2

#Nico's writing #ficlet #steddie #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #st4 #Stranger Things #i found this in my wip docs and realized i forgot about it??? #so i figured i'd post this much and see if it convinces me to finish part 2 👀 #also uh i did not beta read this so #be kind

[gauloiseblue]

TF141 + König, Graves, Alejandro | Body Worship

[+18 | Adult Content MDNI]

Every healthy couple has done body worship to some degree, whether through compliments or something that's done behind closed doors. So when the two of you have reached that point, this is what they'll do:

Price

He'll absolutely kiss every part of your body, and his favorite spot is on the back of your knee.

In his mind, it's a reserved spot for a lover's kiss—because it could only be done in private, when the two of you lounge around.

While it's true that he prefers doing something else with you in private, he also loves kissing that particular spot, particularly when he feels like a sap, like a sentimental fool.

When you're laying on your back, he'd kiss your belly, before laying his head on your chest. He does it so often, that you'd instinctively run your fingers through his hair.

He loves doing it so much that it becomes a stress relief for him.

(One time, out of curiosity, he decided to compare his pulse before and after doing it, and his heartbeat did slow down during the cuddle)

Once, you joked that he has to find another way to destress or he'll die of a heart attack when you're gone. He didn't laugh.

Fluff aside, I think it's pretty much true that he's a giver when it comes to sex.

He's been in the position of power for so long, it's only natural for him to be in charge of everything.

(That applies to his relationship as well. Although he did tone it down, so he wouldn't end up suffocating his partner)

He'd take care of your body, and he'd make sure that nobody can make you feel like he does.

The thing about Price, is that he takes pride in knowing your body. He knows the blueprint of your pleasure like the back of his hand—he knows which button to push, and which way to make you see white.

He loves eating you out, that it almost becomes a ritual for him. And he wouldn't stop until your grip on his hair has tightened, so much so it's almost like you're trying to rip his hair out.

While he likes the term 'worship', he prefers 'giving you what you deserve'.

Also, I can picture him kissing his partner's sole or heel when he's fucking her—especially when her legs are up on his shoulder.

Gaz

He's the type of person who likes to hug his partner 24/7.

Aka, the baby monkey

He's very clingy, to the point that you can't escape from him with the excuse of 'going to the toilet'.

It's even worse when he just came back from a mission. Like, ten times worse.

He's the type that'd drag you into the shower when he's home, even though you already did it 5 minutes before. All because he misses you so much.

He knows that it annoys you sometimes, he even does it purposely just to poke fun at you, but he'd stop when you're genuinely pissed or needed space.

While he's not the type who'd worship his partner with grandiose acts, he'd shower her with compliments.

He'd tell you how much he loves your curves, or how much he wishes to be the one who hugs your body instead of clothes.

He loves his partner so much that her imperfections seem to blur in his eyes. He can't see any of her flaws, because he's blinded by love.

It might sound cheesy, but he really can't see his partner's flaws. He has no desire to search for it.

He'd be very sad if his partner didn't believe him, and he'd do anything to change her mind.

Maybe that's how the worship started

He'd call you with many nicknames, and all of them contain the word 'pretty' or something with similar meanings.

And he'll definitely abuse it in bed.

"You're so lovely when you cum like that, babe."

"Your lips are tempting me."

For some reason, I see him as someone who'd love mirror sex as a way of worship. Because he can fuck you while praising you at the same time.

(He also uses it as a punishment, especially when you don't believe him)

"Look at you. What a pretty thing you are."

And when he does it, you know he won't stop until you agree with him.

Soap

This man.

You know that post about Napoleon's letter to his wife; 'don't wash, will arrive in three days'? That's literally him.

While it's only figuratively, I do think that he doesn't mind the impropriety of it.

He's been in the army for years, with long working hours, and no time for personal care. So the smell of sweat won't bother him at all.

And he doesn't care about things that we might consider 'gross', such as hairy legs (or anywhere else, really), acne, or greasy hair. For him, it's only natural for humans to have it.

It doesn't mean that he doesn't care about hygiene. He does keep himself clean, but not too obsessed with it—mainly because he doesn't have a problem with it in the first place.

But he wouldn't mind if his partner took care of him, even though he has no idea what that toner does, or what's even moisturizer for.

Skincare aside, I do believe that he doesn't care if you don't shave. He'd still eat you out like a hungry man.

Just like Gaz, he doesn't see any of your imperfections. He just doesn't care.

In bed, he's quite dirty about it. He'd lick your sweat off your neck, and would cover your body with his cum whenever he could.

He also lets you sit on his face, until you drench him with your juice.

When the two of you had sex, he'd exhaust his endurance to its potential. Which means, you'd be covered in sweat and other fluids by the end of session.

Worry not, he'd treat you with aftercare by soaping you up in the bathtub.

Ghost

I feel like Simon would be the textbook example of body worship.

Growing up without proper care left him clueless about love, he wouldn't know how to show his affection if you didn't teach him the right way.

It might’ve felt awkward at the time, but keep in mind that he's trying his best.

It's amusing to watch though, especially when he's just started practicing. Because there'd be a time where you look at him expectantly, and he'd stand there for a full minute—trying to figure out what it means—before leaning in for a kiss.

While he looks like he's the man in charge, he actually finds solace in submission. He'll only take control when he knows that you're okay with it.

He needed a partner who's patient with him, because he'd flinch away at the slightest gesture of affection.

But beyond that point lies a loving partner. Affection won't scare him away anymore, and he won't be afraid to show it in public.

He'll kiss the tips of your fingers, your hands, or your temple tenderly.

In private, he prefers kissing the lines of your back. Trailing his kisses along your spine, and down to your lower curve.

And he'll do it with such tenderness, that it almost feels like a worship.

Did I ever tell you that he's good at massaging?

When you tell him your neck is stiff, he'll tell you to sit down immediately. He'll do such a good job on it, that he'll release all of your muscle knots in 5 minutes.

You know the joke about how men will turn a massage into sex? He's not one of them. He'll genuinely take care of you and tell you to rest.

So don't use it for that purpose, because he'd be so confused when you tease him during the massage.

In general, he wouldn't know what you want unless you say it straight to his face.

It'd change once he's comfortable with you. He'd take initiative more often, and he won't hesitate to touch you. Don't be surprised when he kisses the top of your head whenever he feels like it, even in the presence of other people.

König

This extra large size of a man is actually a scaredy cat.

He's so used to violence that he's afraid that he'd unintentionally bring it into his relationship.

One time, you hissed when he grabbed your wrist, and since then, he's afraid to touch you.

His fear pushes him to be cautious with you, and he'd treat you as if you're a porcelain.

It took about 7 weeks before he treated you like a normal person. And several days more before the two of you could get down to 'business'.

I'd like to mention something about his mask, I don't think he'd hide his face from his partner, even at the time when they've just met. He only uses it in the army, but outside of work, it's definitely off. Maybe he'd wear a mask in public, but that's it.

But since he's used to having a mask on, he sometimes forgets that other people can tell when he's looking. So when his eyes fall on your ass, you'll definitely know it.

Similar to Ghost, I do think that he needs time to learn about how to give and take. The only difference is that he has rough edges, and would definitely tease his partner.

"Don't tell me you can't reach that cupboard, maus?"

He'll definitely take advantage of his height and make fun of yours. Don't be sour about it, though. That's just his way of showing love.

He likes to pick you up, or carry you in his big arms to show the size difference. He did it so easily that he could do it with one arm, and still not break a sweat.

While he doesn't show his affection through kisses, he does it by getting on his knees.

Whenever you sit on the sofa—watching the TV, or just lounging around—he'd join you by sitting on the floor, before placing his head on your lap just like a dog.

On a rare moment, when he's feeling vulnerable, he'd lean his head against your stomach, and wrap his hands around your waist. He'd do it in such a way that people would've mistaken your stillness as something holy—as if you're a personal saint.

Like this image

Sometimes you wanted to question him about it, but you got the feeling that he'd return to his shell when you mention it to him. So you decided to keep it to yourself.

Maybe someday—if you're lucky—you'll find the answer for it.

Graves

In terms of take or give, I think he'd be pretty selfish about it. Especially when it comes to body worship.

He'll demand your affection all the time, and that applies in the bedroom as well.

He won't hesitate to push your head down, until your eyes are on the same level with the bulge on his pants. He'll be cocky about it, manhandling you and dictating you of what to do.

But here's the thing, he's very desperate for it, and you can use it against him.

If you don't mind him taking control, then go ahead. But if you don't want him to, you can literally turn things around by refusing him.

And let me tell you this; he'll do absolutely anything just to get his dick sucked.

You can ask him to kiss your feet, or buy you things, or even worse—you can humiliate him and get away with it. And when he did fulfill your demand, he'd be very submissive to you, even when you're on your knees, taking him in your mouth.

"Just like that, mon cher—" He'd moan, "Oh, yes, yes."

You can absolutely peg him, with the cost of giving him oral. Not a bad trade, right?

Outside the bedroom, he'd be critical of your fashion choices.

He'll dress you up whenever the two of you are going out, and he'll definitely hire people to take care of your hair and make-up.

"You don't like that dress? Too bad sweetheart, I already bought it for you."

(Then again, you can just threaten him with no oral, and watch him going through 5 stages of grief before he agrees with everything you say)

Aside from that, I don't think he'd do it to control you, he just wants you to have the best of everything. Because if he can't provide it to you, then what the hell is he doing?

Alejandro

As a Mexican man, he can't resist moving his body in one way or another.

Meaning, he loves to dance.

It'd be nice if you know how to dance, or at least what his dance means, but if not, he'd definitely teach you.

Think of a bird dancing as a way of courting, and you'll see his way of thinking.

He wouldn't woo you with words (although, he does have a silver tongue), or with kisses (not really, he's a great kisser as well), instead, he'd use his body to communicate his desire.

The easiest 'dance' that you can understand, is when he presses his hips onto your ass, as he sways your body—gently, and side to side—with him.

If you're not familiar with dances, worry not, he'll make sure you understand them by the end of the night.

If he pulls you to dance with him, it means he finds you interesting. If he lets you take the stage, he thinks you're beautiful. If he presses your body together, then he wants you. It's not that hard to decipher, since he's very eager to show it.

(While he prefers dancing with upbeat music, he's down for slow dancing to soft music)

You joked to him that he's always changing whenever he started to dance, and he replied with a smirk, "For better or worse?" He asked, and you couldn't answer.

Because not only he became the biggest tease, he also gave you memorabilia, in the form of copious lovemarks on your neck.

Have I ever told you that this man is obsessed with your neck?

He'd press his nose against the nape of your neck, muttering, "You'll make a slave out of me." Before placing his lips on your skin.

He likes to kiss your shoulder as well. He'd do it anywhere and everywhere, that it's become his second favorite place to kiss after your lips.

Whenever he stands behind you, you'll always catch him pressing his lips on your shoulder, absent-mindedly.

I think he's pretty much the king of body worship. Sadly, I can't describe every little thing he does to you, so I'll just leave the rest to your imagination <3

#cod #call of duty #cod x reader #price x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #konig x reader #graves x reader #alejandro x reader #cod mw2 #cod headcanons #you can easily tell who my bias is

[anime-addict-362]

Better Than a Street Whore

CW: NSFW, Shigaraki x Y/N, bottom Shigaraki, he threatens to kill Y/N a lot, begging, overstimulation, lots of kissing, half-assed written aftercare, Y/N switches between degrading his dick and prasing him for being good, I wrote this within 2 hours, forgive me, it was out of boredom promise

× × × × × ×

Shigaraki stood in front of Y/N. Why did she need to be there? She was hired by All For One, but she didn't do anything. Just sat around on her phone all day.

Despite her lack of work, All For One demanded she be there, and he was not allowed to kill her. Damnit.

"Can you leave," He asked, annoyed with the sound of her nails clacking on her phone screen.

"Nah," Y/N didn't even look at him, still typing. "Big man wants me here. I gotta be here."

"Why," Shigaraki scoffed.

"I dunno," She shrugged. "Ask him, he's your master or whatever."

"I-"

"And what is up with that," Y/N rolled her eyes. "Master used outside of the bathroom? Weird."

He blinked. What was she talking about? What did she mean, outside of the bedroom?

"Don't tell me you're confused," She finally looked up from her phone, to look at him amused. "Not bitch boy being a virgin."

Not allowed to kill her. He was allowed to hurt her.

She dodged the glass that flew towards her head with a yelp, and she grabbed her phone before she could drop it.

"I'm not a virgin," He yelled over the glsss shattering.

"Jesus," She mumbled. "It was just a goddamn joke. The fuck is wrong with you?"

"Real fucking funny," He rolled his eyes.

"So," She asked, standing up fully. "Who'd you lose your virginity to?"

His eyes widened. "None of your goddamn business!"

He wanted to dust her when she approached, but no, he wasn't allowed to.

"I bet you used that nomu," She pouted, ignoring his rage filled look. "You needed to feel in control for once so you took something you could order around with no consequence."

"I- I absolutely-"

"Or," She smirked, running a hand on his tense stomach. "You had it fuck you until you couldn't breath, just to get out of your mind for a bit. I could only imagine the cock one those things-"

Shigaraki smacked her hands when she started estimating the... girth of a potential nomu penis. "They don't even have a penis!"

"Oh," Y/N looked to him. "Still big fingers. One is around the size over a bigger than average human dick. I get you could take multiple though-"

"I'm going to murder you," She yelped with a laugh as he reached for her, and she ran.

"No killing me," She squealed as he threw her on the couch. "It's not allowed! Your master wouldn't like it!"

He groaned. Of course he told her about the rule. "Just- Leave. Get out."

"I can't," She shrugged, relaxing back. "Not for a few weeks."

He walked away, but like a fucking dog, she followed with a giggle. "So? Did you fuck the nomus?"

"No," He yelled.

"You can tell me," She pouted. "I'll share one of my fucked up sex stories if you tell me yours."

"No," He scoffed.

"Virgin," She accused.

"Shut up," He grabbed another cup but she was taking it from him before he could chuck it at her.

"Are you a virgin," This time, her tone of genuine. "No laughing, promise."

He blinked, confused on why she cared... Fuck it. Maybe it'll get her to back off.

"No," He answered honestly. "And it wasn't a nomu, you sick freak."

She shrugged. "So who was it?"

Shigaraki moved uncomfortably, shrugging. "I don't remember her name. Just a hook up from awhile ago."

"So it didn't mean anything," She looked judgey. "Have you had any meaningful sex?"

He scoffed. "I lead a very large group of murderous villains. What makes you think I have time for feelings?"

She shrugged, and he jumped at her grabbing his hand. She held it up by the palm, then traced his fingers once she turn it upright.

"Are you trying to kill yourself," He mumbled, watching her fingers trace his calloused hand.

"This is not nearly a suicide attempt," She chuckled. "How do you have sex with absolutely no feeling behind it? I never understood the hype around that."

He gulped as her hand continued up his arm. "I- I don't know. It's just how it is."

She hummed, a hand going to his chest. "You're not pushing me away."

She was right. He wasn't.

"I don't have meaningful sex," He tried to tell her, both of her hands now on him. "I don't let feelings get involved."

"That's not exactly what meaningful sex means," She mumbled, pulling his shirt up suddenly. "At least not to me."

He helped pull the shirt off. God, it was hot in there. She shoved him against the bar, hands holding his waist. He was awfully skinny, so she grabbed quite a bit of him just like that.

"I'm going to make you feel so good," She whispered, going to his neck. "Gonna let me? Let me make you feel amazing."

He huffed, staring at her body, that was pressed up against his. He gasped at the bite on his neck. "Fuck- Yes. Yes Y/N."

She grinned, bringing a hand up to wrap in his hair. She held him in place while she kissed him, roughly. He groaned, gripping the counter behind him.

"You're hot," She grinned, hands swiping over his ribs. "Lead me to your room."

Was he really about to do this? Was he really about to have sex with a woman he finds insanely annoying?

He didn't need to answer that, because the way he pulled her to his bedroom was answer enough.

Y/N pulled him back into a rough kiss the second the door was closed, pushing him against it.

"Now, listen up," She grabbed his face, holding it in place so he stayed looking at her. "I want you touching me, so go put on those silly gloves you have."

Shigaraki huffed, but listened. He moved to his nightstand and grabbed them, slipping them on easily. Once on, Y/N was back in him, kissing him, hands wandering.

He leaned down after a few moments, and picked her up to wrap her legs around his waist. "Okay?"

"Yeah, it's okay," Y/N confirmed with a small smile. She removed her arms around him to pull her shirt off... God, he better not drop her. She would be pissed.

In his defense, he seemed to be somewhat strong. At least enough to hold her.

Once the shirt was off, she proceeded to kiss down his neck. "Lay down on the bed, Shigaraki. Sit me right on you."

Shigaraki wasn't sure he had it in him to refuse. Not with the way her sweet voice sounded, so close to his ear, the way her hand tangled in his hair, the other running down his chest again.

So he sat on the bed, making sure Y/N's legs weren't trapped under him before he laid back. He didn't even think over how good Y/N would look straddling him.

Y/N smiled when she noticed Shigaraki's eyes wandering. "Like what you see?"

"It's decent," Shigaraki huffed.

Y/N pouted at that. "We both know that's a lie. I can tell by the way your face is already burning, you think much different."

Shigaraki gulped, looking up to Y/N. "I don't-"

"I also feel your hard on," Y/N chuckled, putting her hands on either side of his head. "Why not just tell me how you feel? You might get something in return."

He stared at her. "Like?"

"You're a smart man, Shigaraki. Look at our position and take a guess about what I'll do to you," She chuckled. "So? Go on."

He looked her in the eye. "You're fucking infuriating."

"Ouch," She put a hand on her heart. "Keep going."

"You're... attractive, I guess," He cleared his throat, refusing to let his voice crack right now.

"Attractive? Care to elaborate?"

God fuck, this woman.

"I hate you," He groaned, feeling a hand move to the waistband of his pants.

"I'll leave you all hard if you don't start doing what I ask," Y/N's voice was lower now, as if she wss threatening him.

He didn't care though. He could get himself off. He didn't need Y/N to make him come, even if he would probably regret it later... What would Y/N do?

Would she suck him off? Or would they just start having sex? He would enjoy either way but-

He gasped at the hand that grabbed his face, forcing him to look to Y/N. "I'm sitting right here, about to give you the best orgasm of your pathetic life and you're ignoring me?"

"No- I wasn't ignoring you," He went onto explain. But it was hard to explain the way his thoughts got caught up. It didn't matter though, because he remembered what she wanted.

"You're so hot," He huffed, grabbing the wrist of the hand that still held his face. "You're... Pretty too."

Y/N knew the word "pretty" wasn't ever in his vocabulary, but it did sound good coming out of his mouth, in that shaky voice.

"Pretty huh," She grinned, kissing him and finally letting go of his face. "You're pretty yourself, handsome."

He gulped at the compliment. He wasn't sure he liked the compliment, it sounded unrealistic. Him? Pretty? Handsome?

He wasn't given a lot of time to think it over, not with Y/N moving between his legs and pulling his sweatpants snd boxers off in one swipe.

"Y/N," He huffed, feeling her kiss the inside of his thighs. Why was she so bold? Why was she so close?

She kept kissing him, feeling his breathing picking up the closer she got to his dick. She really wanted to see him come, and she wanted it to be the best he's ever had.

Not that would be that hard. She's not the most experienced person in the world but compared to some random woman on the street? Odds are she was way better.

After a few moments, she reached down to her shirt pocket. Sweet, she still had a few condoms left.

"You know, I do think you're very attractive," Y/N spoke up, opening the condom. "I'm sure a lot of the fucked up women on the street want to have some fun with you. Probably even some men."

Shigaraki huffed. What do you say in response to that? Thanks?

"That being said, I think you're a little of a whore and always accept when someone asks to fuck you," Y/N's words made him tense.

"I am not-"

"What I'm getting at," Y/N interrupted him. "Is that I have a hard time believing you don't have some sort of STI. God knows what the people around here have. Especially Dabi."

Shigaraki scoffed. "I don't have an STI."

"Yeah? And who tested you, and when," Y/N raided an eyebrow. "I'm already lowering my standards to give you a decent orgasm, one better than those street sluts can give you, don't get picky now."

Shigaraki gulped as she slid the condom on him. "So what? You think I have a STI and you're still going to have sex with me?"

Y/N grinned. "Oh I'm not fucking you until you get tested. I'm just gonna get you off, and you're gonna get me off. But I'm sure I'll have to teach you, I doubt you know how to properly please a woman."

He glared at her. "Why are you suddenly being a bitch?"

She raised an eyebrow. "So you do know how to make a woman come? And you know, not one of those fake ones. I promise, I won't fake it."

He didn't even know what to say. What do you say to anything she's saying? She was nuts!

He groaned when her hand grabbed his dick, which was now completely covered by the condom. "If you're not gonna fuck me, what's with the condom?"

"You don't have running water here," Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Your dick is probably gross. Again, you seem like a great fuck, but I'm lowering my standards for you. They are practically rock bottom right now."

Shigaraki glared at her harder. "I could kill you at any moment."

"You're right," She smiled softly, starting to jack him off at a gentle pace. "You could. But you're not going to. You like me calling you gross. You're practically whimpering just because my hand is wrapped around your filthy cock. It twitches whenever I insult you. You fucking love this, being under me, just taking my insults."

Shigaraki groaned when she squeezed his cock suddenly, and very hard. He felt like he was close, all her dumb (and very untrue...) words were getting to him.

"Y/N," He gasped, trying to get her hand off of him.

"Beg," She grinned wildly. "Beg me to make you come, tell me how much you love me degrading your filthy cock. Do it."

He whimpered, grabbing her wrist. God, her grip was fucking tough.

"Please," He whispered.

"Hm?"

"Please," He yelled out, holding her arm. "Fuck- Please Y/N, make me come. Degrade me, do whatever, just please, make me come."

...he was pathetic. What was wrong with him?

Y/N hummed, loosening her hand. "Keep going."

"Fuck," He breathed out at the relief. "Please Y/N, god fuck, I need it. I'm so close, please."

He might kill himself later, honestly.

She chuckled, and moved her hand, just enough to get him to come. "I've heard better. But I guess I can't expect too much from you."

Shigaraki moaned, stomach tensing. "Y/N- Oh god."

"C'mon," Y/N grinned, hand moving quicker. "You can come, Tomura. You're doing so good, keep going."

Her suddenly, sickeningly sweet words made his heart tighten, and he eyes roll back. "Fuck- Y/N- please."

She leaned forward and kissed him. He moaned in her mouth, a hand going up to her back. He needed something to hold.

Y/N hissed as his free fingers caught on her skin, but just moved her hand quicker. And it worked, because he was moaning aloud again, as he came, filling the condom.

He whimpered when her hand didn't stop, and moved the hand on her back to her hip to grab more. "Y/N, please, I came already."

"It wasn't good enough," Y/N kissed just under his ear. "I wanna see you crying. I wanna hear you yell my name, I need you begging me to stop because you can't handle how good it feels."

Shigaraki let out a sob, her hand not letting up the quick pace at all. "Y/N- Its too much, please."

"You're doing so good," She whispered, and kissed his jaw. "You're taking it so good, you're being so good for me. You can take another one, I know you can."

He nodded slowly, barely aware of the fact he was drooling. He laid his head back as she kissed him. She was so sweet now. What changed? Did he do something to make her want to be nice all of the sudden?

"Y/N," He moaned quietly against her lips. "Please- I don't think I can-"

"You can," She whispered again, sending a weird feeling through Shigaraki. "You're doing so good already. I know you can be even better."

He felt another sob rip through his chest. "Be mean again- Stop."

She hummed, kissing him. "Why would I be mean when you're being such a good boy? You deserve to be treated nicely after listening,to me so well."

He moaned as her hand twisted around the head of his cock, spreading the come throughout the condom. "I'm- I'm close again- Y/N, god."

"Good boy," She hummed. "C'mon, be a good boy and come for me."

He sobbed and he felt his orgasm build up again. It was a lot, almost overwhelming. "It's- I'm coming- Y/N," He moaned shakily as he came, feeling tears fall as her hand helped him through it.

"Good job," She whispered, stopping her hand. "Such a good job."

He took a deep breath, but it only came out uneven and shaky. He yelped when her hand tightened and moved down the length of his cock slowly.

"Y/N, please," He sobbed, hands shaking, and hips pulling away.

She laughed, pulling her hand away. "Now tell me... Was that better or worse compared to those street whores?"

"Better," He sobbed again, her legs just barely brushing up again his cock. "So much better- Fuck!"

She couldn't stop grinning. But she decided to have some mercy, and stop touching his dick until he calmed down. For now, she just held him, arms wrapping around him.

She sighed at the sob and his arms wrapping around her back, tears wetting her shoulder. "You did such a good job, Tomura. Go ahead and rest."

Why was he still crying? It was done, they were done. But her consistent praise wasn't helping.

"Take a deep breath, Tomura. You did so good, you're done," She kissed his neck. "C'mon, take a deep breath now."

He was way past the point of feeling silly, so he just listened to her, taking a deep breath. He noticed something wet on his hand so he looked to where it restrd on Y/N back.

"I'm sorry," He breathed out, noticing he definitely made her bleed with scratches... It was hard to go out and get nail clippers, okay? Fuck off.

Y/N found the apology comical. He threatened to kill her multiple times and now he was apologizing for a scratch. She made the decision to lot laugh though.

"It's okay," She smiled softly, kissing his cheek. "I'm gonna clean you up, okay?"

He shook his head. "No- I need to make you-"

"It's okay, Tomura," She sat up, out of his arms. "It's alright. You're tired, you need to rest. And I'm going to clean you up."

He nodded, wiping the tears from his face.

It took a few minutes for the embarrassment to set in. It seemed the moment Y/N was cleaning his come covered dick was the moment he lost his humanity, and was officially a disgrace of a villain.

"Oh stop," Y/N scoffed as he tried to pull away. "So dramatic, its just your own dick."

He huffed, face red. "I'm good- Please leave."

"Uh huh," She finally stopped, throwing the towel next to the bed. "Get your eyes off my tits, perv."

"Put your shirt back on," He argued back.

She shrugged, and grabbed her shirt. "I'll be downstairs," He watched her get up and walk out his bedroom. "You owe me an orgasm!"

#mha smut #x reader #x y/n #dom y/n #dom reader #sub Shigaraki #bottom shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #tomura Shigaraki x y/n #top reader #dom reader x Shigaraki

[yandere-daydreams]

other batfam anon gets it. i'd just like to add that, personally, it's kinda anything that's begrudgingly platonic. adore when it's a kidnapping scenario. whether they're "respecting" your boundaries by just pushing them a teeny bit (when they feel like it (so, usually)), or because there's a delusional relationship they're trying to uphold, or they think it's the way to earn your trust/love.... all good to me. love it. love the creeping dread that they might just get tired of just platonic.

ah fjdksfjlkdjfkljlfdljs there's just something so tasty about that period of time after the older members of the batfam realizing they have a bit of a thing for the new civilian captive but before someone snaps and actually does something with their feelings. dick and tim might take a more delusional, well-meaning approach and try to justify their habit of lingering outside of you and bruce's bedroom door by telling themselves that they just want to make sure you're adjusting comfortably :), while stephanie and jason might be a little more playful about it, ""accidently"" brushing against you or disregarding your boundaries entirely because hey, you're practically family, right? meanwhile, you just have to cling to bruce (who'd sooner die than acknowledge his fucked up kids) and really play into the role that's been forced onto you, because the alternative is going from 'reluctant parental figure' to 'communal vigilante fucktoy' and you'd prefer to keep your waking nightmare limited to the one superhero.

bonus: damian is going to have to stay out of this for obvious reasons, but i do think it'd be funny if he was just involved enough to notice how the rest of the batfam has been acting and be absolutely pissed that all these orphans want to fuck his step-mom. all this shit's going on and there's just a ten year old absolutely seething in the background.

#personal #anon ask

[lemmetreatya]

babyyyyyy we’re gonna need that fútbol player!onyankapon fic asappp😩😩😩

your wish is my command wifeeeyyyy

content: afab!reader, possesive!ony, smut, missionary, marking, creampie, breeding

footballer!onyankopon always had a focused mindset when it came to his career -- seldom not occupied on his craft -- but when it came to you? things were different.

footballer!onyankopon who fell head over heels in love with you whilst you used to cheer on your brother at the stand during sunday league matches. footballer!onyankopon who'd bashfully tell you pre-game that any goal he scores will be for you and would always give you a half looped smile whenever he did

footballer!onyankopon who proposes 3 years into your relationship once he gets the greenlight that hes gonna go pro, telling you it'd be wrong to go any further without making you his sole cheerleader. you end up getting to know most of his new teammates but because youre just naturally so bubbly, sometimes footballer!onyankopon can get a bit jealous

"cant lie, if you ever fumble her, know im next in line" are the words that act as the limit to footballer!onyankopon's patience. he knows that theres a sharing mentality with most footballers and the girls they sleep with but thats just not who you are. so, you can only imagine your absolute surprise when footballer!onyankopon is a lot more pouty that night than he usually ever is

"baby, dont talk to my teammates ever again" he says with his toothbrush half sticking out his mouth.

you cant help but giggle at him from the bed, eyeing him over your book. especially concerning how quickly he rushed out the bathroom to tell you this.

"what happen now? another article suspecting theres a secret affair going on?"

footballer!onyankopon quickly pops back into the bathroom to spit the toothpaste out of his mouth before answering you from the sink, unseen.

"they want you after youre 'done' with me."

you can hear the slight despondency in his voice which makes you place down the book on your bedside table to sit up in bed.

"you know thats silly, right? like you know i could never actually be 'done' with you. its you or death."

"ay, ay, ay dont talk like that!" footballer!onyankopon comes out the bathroom having rinsed and dried his mouth. he seems slightly offput by your words but it doesnt hide the slight pang of pain that he wears on his face. even though he was coming to lie down next to you, you still open his side of the duvet for him to lie under.

"no but its true. its us or nothing. no ones having me after nobody, its only me and you papa."

footballer!onyankopon snuggles in next to you but can only find himself staring at the ceiling. he does however appreciate the heat of you next to him

"i know. its just...i dont like thinking about it."

"then dont." you say softly. "think instead about how you do have me and how you have me now. in fact i want you to show me how no one else gets to touch me but you."

footballer!onyankopon doesnt have to be told twice or given an excuse to show you that you were his. to have your anklet with his initials on practically kissing your earlobes as he fucks into you possessively. he was so eager to prove that you were his alone that hed forgotten to prep you as he revels in the feeling of your cunt hugging his cock.

its a tight fit but with how your calling out his name and no one elses?! who can blame him if "mine, mine, mine" is all he keeps chanting into your slick mouth

footballer!onyankopon doesnt mind too much when you scratch at his back in a possesive manner. it'll probably sting him during the salt water bath tomorrow but he doesnt care. he'll probably be teased by his teammates about it during the locker rooms but fuck it, even better. right now, with how pliably succumbing you were for him, there was nothing you could do that'd put him off you.

footballer!onyankopon didn't usually but he couldnt help but to empty himself inside of you; his prime showcase of possession. maybe if you were to have a swollen stomach and then a child that looked exactly like him, his teammates will know not to utter such futile words to him

"let them know that no ones ever getting a turn with me" you mumble as you lightly finger the swollen cross hatching across footballer!onyankopon's back the morning after.

footballer!onyankopon slightly hisses at the sensitivity of it but hes warmly chuckling in response. considering hes sat on the edge of the bed, he turns round to bend and lay a kiss to your forehead.

"dont worry. theyll be more than aware." he assures, smile warm

#onyankopon #onyankopon x reader #onyankopon aot #onyankopon x black reader #onyankopon smut #aot x black reader #aot x black reader smut #aot x reader #aot #attack on titan

[no-m4gic]

Hiya friend i saw u and knew I had to request heh

So I was thinking byakuya/nagito/shuichi characters w a reader who cries when frustrated/yelled at/someone angry at them :}

Lots of love also don't forget to eat and drink

mmm i'm here to pleasure the simps i'm here to pleasure the simps i'm here to pleasure the simps.

lmk if you ever want yandere byakuya, plasma /j

i had fun writing this lel, thanks for requesting! i relate to this a lot lmao

~ mod sitaya

BYAKUYA, NAGITO & SHUICHI W/ A GN FRAGILE S/O

BYAKUYA TOGAMI

"uugh. stop crying already, get up, the floor's dirty."

despite byakuya not being a patient guy, he isn't a loud one either. however that doesn't mean he won't get mad and snap at you.

he isn't a heartless monster though, if you'd just been scolded by perhaps kirigiri or ishimaru, he'd offer you his handkerchief, but i doubt he'll accept it back.

"i don't want anything that is stained with plebian tears."

isn't really the type who'd hug or like hugs, but if you do initiate a hug, he'll just awkwardly and silently hug back.

god forbid you stain his rich people clothes though.

don't worry about him being mad at you, you're one of the only people who doesn't piss him off to the core, so it's rare for him to be mad or upset with you, most of the time it's just him being annoyed and making snarky remarks.

if it was somebody who had made you mad, frustrated or upset, expect a handwritten apology letter from them.

when you ask togami about it, he'd act all innocent and clueless.

"i don't know what you're talking about s/o, i'd never do something like that for such a plebian."

NAGITO KOMAEDA

"oh atua- s/o- what happened? was it me? i'm sorry... i'll leave if you want..."

at first he'd think he was the problem and feel like absolute shit.

eventually tho, he'll find out that it isn't him, which was good on his part.

he'd ask you what happened and who made you upset.

after you're done rambling, you'll find yourself in his arms, him probably squeezing you tighter than you were squeezing him.

my guy doesn't want to lose you.

while hugging you and rubbing your back, he assumes that this happened because of his luck. he'd also be secretly plotting something against whoever yelled at you. it would definitely be something way less sinister than whatever was happening in his head, something like him acting all creepy around them.

if you're still upset, he'd bring you on a shopping spree, since you know like... he won the lottery.

if you run into someone like izuru or byakuya, you two would definitely have fun annoying them.

SHUICHI SAIHARA

"oh no- s/o, i'm sorry that happened... but what should i do? should i start crying too?"

if it'd make you feel better, shuichi would offer to cry with you and hold you.

he'd quickly run off to fetch you a glass of water

after that he'd listen to whatever you had to say, all the while enjoying your soothing voice.

if you like sulking in the dark, he'll lend you his emo hat and walk you back to your room, telling people who got in the way and were making the situation worse to fuck off.

if it's raining and you guys are outside, he'll walk in the rain and lend you his umbrella.

you'd probably have to care for him after he gets a bad fever

after dealing with you, the next person he'll have to deal with would be your attacker.

he wouldn't attack them komaeda or blackmail them like togami, he'd just walk up to them and be like "hey, could you be more careful around s/o next time? their ego is really weak. thanks."

or he'd get kaede to tell them if he decides to stay with you.

#danganronpa x reader #danganronpa #dr x reader #dr #byakuya togami x reader #byakuya x reader #togami x reader #nagito x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #komaeda x reader #shuichi x reader #saihara x reader #shuichi saihara x reader

[bloompompom]

HELLO I don’t know if you take requests but I LOVED that post you made today from the ask so if you do, I was thinking about what Eren would be like if reader called/texted him while he was at work and teased him over the phone by touching themselves? YOU ABSOLUTELY DONT HAVE TO DO THIS IF YOU DONT WANT I just love how you write Eren you are one of my favorite writers for him

hehe i wouldn't say i often take requests but i'll entertain if something tickles me. i'll always say yes to you though, especially because you asked so nicely🤍

content: ~1.5k word count. husband!eren x female!reader. nudes, phone sex, semi-public masturbation, light degradation, 18+ only.

eren didn't want to go to work, believe him. who actually wants to go to work, anyway? despite his convincing, you were still acting as if he wanted to leave your side, pouting in bed when he wouldn't spoon you for 'just one more minute' because he knew it would turn into ten.

as much as he wished he could stay home and spend the day with you, he couldn't. he couldn't even risk running behind this morning because his day was to start at nine o'clock sharp, stacked full with back-to-back meetings. but based on the look you shot him on his way out the door, eren had a feeling you were about to make his long day a whole lot longer.

he had only been at work for about an hour before you texted. enjoying your day without me? the message, though it made him roll his eyes, was innocent enough. but that didn't last long.

during his second meeting of the day, already dragging by slower than the first, eren felt his phone vibrate against his thigh. he didn't need to look to know it was another message from you, especially after it buzzed again, taunting him.

just a peek wouldn't hurt, he thought, i don't even have to reply right away. the meeting was being held over video call; no one would even know if he checked his phone.

face trained straight ahead, directly toward the monitor, he slipped his phone from his pocket. in short bursts, he flitted his eyes down to unlock his phone, then again to swipe to your messages. he tried his best to be subtle with it.

miss me yet?

below it, in a separate message, a photo of you.

yes, he tried to be subtle with it, but he failed. big time.

eyes widened in shock, eren darted a hand out to shut his camera off. he hastily blamed it on technical difficulties, all the while, he was responding to you in frenzy.

baby, you cannot be doing this to me right now. you know i’m in an important meeting!

he watched—more like gawked at the image—as you quickly typed out, call me after ♡

by the look of it, you were still lounged in bed, right where he had left you. the only thing that changed was that you now wore next to nothing. barely covered by your thin bedsheet, eren admired your form.

he had seen you like this, countless times. he had learned every curve beneath his fingertips so intimately that he could draw you off memory alone if he had the knack for it. but there was something different—perhaps something more special—about the sight when you had captured it on camera for him. knowing you settled back into your shared bed, the one he devotedly fucked you in near-nightly, spread your pretty pussy, and snapped a photo with no one but him clouding your thoughts.

eren couldn't help but stare for a minute, maybe longer. the meeting had fizzled into nothing more than white noise. if someone were to call his name right now, he doubted he'd hear it. he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so flustered, but even after all the years spent together, you still managed to have that effect on him whether he liked it or not.

it was obvious you were up to no good—practically asking for trouble, except he was the one who'd inevitably take the fall for it. he didn't have the time to call you unless he wished to have his boss chew him out. even so, he found himself stumbling into your trap. he was only human, after all; he wasn't above thinking with his dick from time to time. so he rang you between meetings, justifying it by calling with only a single earbud in, foolishly convinced he could multitask while on the phone with you.

after a few rings, you answered. at least, eren was pretty sure you answered. the line was silent. there was a split second where he thought the call had dropped. as he started to say your name, he was interrupted. he heard soft breaths on the other end of the phone. tiny noises, like hums and huffs through your nose. eren's mouth ran dry.

"ah—i need you," you breathed, gasped. "i couldn't wait for you to get home."

you feigned innocence as you said it, your voice sweetened up as if you were truly helpless. but your husband knew you better than that; he knew he didn't have a demure little wife waiting for him at home, but fuck, did he find it hot. so he'd always fall for the act anyway.

caught up in it, eren's fingertips ghosted over his keyboard with a slight tremble. his eyes were on his computer screen, but the documents were blurry and out of focus. everything was blurry and out of focus, except you of course.

he needed to know what you were doing to yourself. did you have your vibrator? if so, which one did you choose? or had you decided to use your fingers, circling the pads of them against your clit? maybe you were fingering yourself, knuckles deep but whining for more, growing wetter by the second as you dreamt of his fingers—how they could reach places yours couldn't.

before he could ask—discover if you were grinding against your hand or his pillow—the door to his office flew open.

“jaeger, i—"

eren jolted, almost to a comical degree, and his co-worker rightfully laughed, offhandedly commenting how he didn't seem the type to startle easily. eren spoke with him—well, tried to speak with him. it was a challenge because he still had you in his ear, moaning now, louder than before. you were asking where he had gone, begging for him to talk you through it—to tell you every dirty thing he wanted to do to you.

eren couldn't repeat a word his co-worker had said to him. he only waited for him to finish, cleared his throat, and told him to close the door on his way out. eren then marked out for lunch, hoping it would buy him some time.

whether it was his sense of decency or self-control that snapped first, eren wasn't sure. but when you cried out his name, he could no longer stop himself from reaching for his cock, throbbing to be touched by you. his hand would have to suffice for now.

cursing both you and himself, he tugged his slacks down to the middle of his thighs, just low enough that he could touch himself, too. eren thumbed over the leaky tip of his cock, hissing in a tangled mix of relief and utter humiliation. he couldn't believe you had brought him to his knees like this. succumbing to jerking himself at work had to be a new low, even for him.

"what a needy little thing you are," eren spoke into the phone. his voice was quiet but guttural and deeply authoritative. "thinking you can interrupt my workday just so i can help get you off."

he made it sound like a burden, but he only fisted his cock faster.

"yes," you moaned, drawing out the simple word as if it were longer than just the syllable. you were babbling now, talking to him exactly how he liked. "fuck, i'm your needy little thing—your needy little slut."

his brain short-circuited then and there, incapacitating him to the point where he could only mutter on about how fucking hot you were between breaths, squeezing his cock as if his hand could ever compare to you.

you were close; he could hear it when you whimpered, "eren—"

“that’s right," he cut in. he was right there with you. "only think about me when you come. think about coming all over my cock like a good girl."

with his free hand, eren pulled up the picture you sent him, staring at you while your moans became strained and choppy on the other end of the phone. such a perfect pussy, he thought, like it was made just for him.

your breath hitched in your throat, the final tell-tale sign that you were coming undone.

“that's it. come for me, baby." he needed to finish when you did. he stroked himself, not minding the squeak in his chair as he quickened his pace. "i wanna hear it—god, i need to hear you."

one last sob, ripped right from the pit of your lungs, and eren came with you. his stomach tightened, eyes screwing shut, as he toppled over the edge of his release. he pumped himself through it, even when it was nearly too much, until he knew you had stopped twitching and were blissfully lazed in bed.

only then did he come to his senses again, swearing under his breath when he realized his situation—the mess he made across his phone, not to mention on his slacks.

you were giggling into the phone now; eren could hear your breathless smile in it. there was no returning to work now, was there?

"fine. you win," he surrendered with a sigh. he logged out of his computer. "i'll be home in thirty minutes."

#for you my sweet #i gift you: absolute filth #i hope you like it because i have no idea where over 1k words came from <3 #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut