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#i just need advice on how to deal with this lol

aerodaltonimperial · 2 months

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so back when i was teaching, one of the things i learned to look for were the "mood makers", as i liked to call them, of the classes. there were always 2 or 3 per class, and it was easy to find them in the first few days. you got those kids on your side, and it was a ripple effect with the rest of the students - they would all follow. so winning those kids over was huge when it came to how the year would play out. and from time to time, whenever the class was sort of faltering - middle of winter, of a big project, burn-out high - i would lean back in on those mood makers again to turn things around.

one particular class, when we had a big multi-month group project happening, were just... really struggling with getting their shit together lol. they were supposed to be practicing their presentations (english speaking class) and they were doing pretty much anything but, and their presentations were supposed to start the next class day. they were also PANICKING as i started giving out some feedback - which was NOT GREAT - as they were running through the lines they were supposed to be remembering. after realizing all of them needed so much extra work, i decided we needed to have a turn-around, so i invited one of the mood makers up to the front. i held out a cup to him, with two papers inside.

"one of them," i said, "says tuesday, and if you draw that, presentations go as planned. but one of them says thursday, and if you choose that one, everyone gets extra time to practice."

everyone was like OH SHIT. OKAY. THIS IS IT. and this mood maker, he was a big personality (they usually are) so i knew he'd really ham this up, and he did. we made a huge deal, with drum-rolls and everything, of him picking one out of the cup. he opened it up the paper and announced THURSDAY to a round of huge cheers. he was the class hero. everyone had TONS of motivation to work super hard on this gifted extra day, and really put the time in. their presentations were great. morale SOARED.

the plot twist was that both papers said thursday, because they all needed the extra time. my forever teacher advice: find creative ways to make things happen so that you get the buy-in from the class.

#this memory came up in my facebook #and i was like OH THAT CLASS #i remember this hahaha

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11hedonistic · 4 months

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Astrology Observations 🌴

air venus/air mars are usually the type of people to fall for the friends or find nothing wrong with having a fwb (friend with benefits)

venus touching the ascendant (no matter the aspect) can manifest a beautiful appearance (same with mars but with mars, i would say this gives more of a sex appeal vibe)

scorpio moon/mars definitely wins the title for holding grudges the longest/being the most unforgivable if you cross them

i realized that a lot of aries mercury people don’t really think before they speak😂

taurus mercury people are those type of people to repeat what they already said just to make sure everyone understood

my gemini mercury people.. i know how hard it is for you to stay focused. you’re doing great reading this sweetie

cancer mercury people have craaazy intuition

if you’re looking for someone to tell a good story, find you a leo mercury!! these people are such good story tellers 😂

virgo mercury people can be brutally honest people when giving advice, which can hurt people in the process but that’s not their intention most of the time!

if you need a mediator during an argument, find u a libra mercury. they’re always looking at both sides of an argument

scorpio mercury people can become very rude/disrespectful if they feel annoyed or bothered. especially if they have sag/cap placements.. scary

sagittarius mercury people almost always come off as too blunt

capricorn mercury people, how often are you put in leadership positions? 🤔

aquarius mercury people and their way of coming up with ideas no one else could think of >>

pisces mercury people.. you and that imagination of yours. always in your head. i know you enjoy living in your imagination dont you (my neptune 3rd house can relate so you’re not alone lol)

taurus moon + scorpio venus lovers >>

the best omg this guy that im talking to right now has this combo and he’s always spoiling me with gifts, mind you we’re not even dating 😂 and they’re SO observant. like i play my music around him sometimes and yesterday he literally surprised me with a playlist of my favorite songs & his favorite songs (he’s moving away so he made it for me to listen while he’s gone when i miss him 💔) but wow. if you want real love, these people are it

pluto 4th house people.. how’s your family/home life?

pluto 1st house people.. how many times has it felt like you killed your old self just to make a new one? coming back stronger and stronger each time of course

im soo tired of this gemini venus slander and saying WE CHEAT! we dont cheat we just lose interest fast if you’re boring or fail to keep our brains stimulated. just dont be monotone/boring, make us laugh & we’ll be willing to work on the connection 😁 its also just that we dont really deal well with a bunch of intense emotions being thrown at us. give us time

capricorn moon people.. are you ok? and dont lie to me

scorpio suns.. how is your relationship with your father?

i saw someone say how saturn in 1st house people hate the inverted filter & they were nott wrong. my sister has this placement and she despises it. always picking at every single flaw she has whole time she looks fine lol

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feninina · 8 months

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𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐞 ༉‧₊˚.⁀➷

therapist! jonathan crane x female reader.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: when your father decided that you needed therapy, taking you to his dear friend dr. crane to treat and help you, you thought it wouldn't work at all, but it turned out to be everything you needed.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: SMUT(minors dni!!), noncon/dubcon, depression, cursing, crane is a mysoginistic prick, using therapy for unhinged reasons, smut, hair pulling, jonathan just being an creep, choking AND strangulation, dacryphilia, hitting, unprotected sex (safe sex its great sex!!), breeding kink, forced breeding, power dynamics, i think crane should be a warning himself, reader being borderline stupid and naive. also this has a lot of backstory i’m so sorry i got carried away lol.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7.1K

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: omg my first fic on here!! this is also my first work on english and my first smut ever so i apologise in advance for any mistake!! i hope y'all enjoy it anyways ahahahaha live laugh love jonathan crane👏🏻 feedback its very appreciated so i can improve and continue to publish better works, anyways enjoyyyy 💓

𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁

It was awkward, to say the least.

You were sitting across from Doctor Crane in the couch at your dad's house, legs crossed as you watched him write on his clipboard, something about it making you feel anxious, a little nauseous, even.

This wasn't your first session, you started doing this four months ago, not long after your divorce that caused you to fall into a spiral of sadness and misery. Your failed— and short marriage was the main reason you started taking therapy with your dad's friend, the chief of Arkham, Jonathan Crane, and still, you couldn't bring yourself to talk about it.

He was patient, you told him several times that he was a saint. Regardless, before you started with the sessions, he explained to your dad that he didn't really do this; therapy really wasn't his strong suit, but for a friend, a desperate one, he would gladly do it.

Your dad came to him, offering a big stack of money if he would talk to his little girl, make her recover her once joyful personality, like you had one to begin with. Jonathan really couldn't say no, and not really because of the money, he had other reasons in mind, unethical reasons.

And there you were now. You were quick to open up to him, eager to talk, to be listened and he, on the other hand, was ready to listen, to give you advice, console you and help you get through the sorrow that was following you since you were young, playing the role of your knight in shinning armor.

"I can't believe you don't actually do this" you said once, sniffling your nose with a handkerchief he gave you as he examined you with a warm gaze, an empathetic grin on his face. "You're really helping me"

Jonathan was quick to wave his hand and tell you that it wasn't a big deal, that he was just doing his job, and if you weren't so innocent, so stupid, you would have noticed the mischievous sparkle that flickered in his eyes for a split second.

You were landing right in the palm of his hand.

Not even thirty minutes into the first session you told him everything about your past; every little thing you thought he needed to know to treat you. And you were slightly right; he did need to know those things, but not to treat you, just to manipulate you and mold your little brain into what he was envisioning for you and your future together.

Truth was, you hated everything about your life, regardless of the fact that you had everything. That's what you've been told since you were a child; a big house, a lot of money, maids taking care of you so you wouldn't have to move a finger and just sit pretty and relax inside the walls of the huge mansion that confined you since you could recall.

You have everything. That was bullshit.

Sometimes, you couldn't help but think that people told you that out of pity, like they knew how miserable you felt, but not daring to say a word about it. Your dad was a powerful man, and you were aware of that, ever since you were born, he had bussines with Falcone and you knew that people feared him, he practically ruled Gotham, that lifeless and dangerous city that you had to live in.

You have everything. You were tired of that sentence. You didn't care at all about these nice things surrounding you, those dresses in your closet, those diamonds in your jeweler, that fancy car you owned since your eighteenth birthday, no, that was useless in your eyes, because all you really wanted, was love.

It was a lonely life; you learned how to do everything by yourself, how to comb your hair, how to deal with your period when it first came, how to dress up properly and do your makeup. You didn't even had to learn about boy problems because there weren't any boys in your life, you were homeschooled. So you were quiet, not really having to talk at all, there was nobody to talk to.

And since Jonathan was the only person you were talking to at the moment, you started to feel like you loved him, the idea sitting right with you without you even knowing it, thinking that this was how therapy normally went.

Loneliness striked your life at a young age; your mother died from a strange disease when you were eight, leaving you with a shattered heart thad bled everytime you walked past her bedroom, or saw a picture of her. You practically watched her die, a witness of how she lost her strength, how her once beautiful skin turned pale and yellow, and lost every little spark within herself, and the worst part was that all the money you had, couldn't even help her.

It was a deep wound that you carried with yourself, with nobody to talk about it.

Your father spent his days locked up in his office, and when he wasn't there, he was out in the city doing unthinkable things that you didn't even wanted to know about, leaving you on your own, having to fill all of those silent and empty rooms by yourself, with nobody to laugh with, nobody to hold you and see you grow. He wasn't really around, working all the time, too busy to know that his daughter didn't seem to care about all the expensive stuff he bought for her, not even taking the time to have dinner with you or hold a simple conversation. He loved you, you knew that, he just wasn't the type to show his affection with words or actions, but with gifts. And you hated everything about it.

But now, Jonathan was there, making you feel listened, finally saving you from falling into loneliness again. Your whole life, you thought you had a horrible sickness, that you were doomed to this awful destiny of sorrow and silence, but now, with his sweet words and good company, you couldn't be more than relieved.

You wished sometimes that you met him earlier, that this whole therapy stuff started before, and you even confessed it to him. And it irked him a little, that you didn't even remember how you two really met each other, hiding his annoyance with a warm smile.

Some months ago, your father started to brought you to parties he attended, parties were all the corrupts scumbags from Gotham reunited and celebrated how they were dragging the city to the gates of hell on their benefit, and you couldn't be more happy to attend them. You knew he was bringing you because he recently broke up with the young girl he carried with him— that was most likely your age, and needed a pretty thing to hang of his arm and take care of the people he didn't feel like talking to.

So you accepted this new life, eating up this role of socialite like it was made for you.

It was a chance to know people, to speak and make new friends, but you learned quickly that those people weren't there for that, and picked up on how mostly of the people who talked to you just wanted to climb up the social ladder and gain some extra points from your father.

He, even, introduced you to a couple of people that seemed close to your age, and you chatted with them, feeling extremely anxious because you weren't used to this, so it was weird to them seeing such a pretty woman, with your status and fortune, acting so shy and quiet in a place that your dad practically owned.

After a couple of hours, you learned the agenda. All you had to do was put on a fake smile, get them off your father's shoulders and pretend you were very interested in what they had to say, hiding your uncomfortable expression behind your glass of champagne, promising them that you would arrange a reunion with your father someday.

One of those nights, your father introduced you to someone, someone who you didn't pay much attention because he seemed to be uninterested too, only being there for the sake of his job.

"Pretty girl, come here" your father said, a cheerful tone of voice as grabbed you by the shoulder to get your attention, snapping you out of your train of thoughts. "I want you to meet my friend, Doctor Crane"

You looked at the man in front of your dad, his pale blue eyes already sizing you up discretely, looking at you up and down in a way that didn't go unnoticed by you, a shiver running down your spine as his eyes finally locked with yours.

You couldn't help but feel small under his gaze, your glass now forgotten in your left hand, the right one extended to take his and stretch it for a quick second, returning to your first position, his expression remaining serious.

"Nice to meet you" he spoke, his voice sounding like velvet in your eyes, not quite sensing the undertone behind it. "Your father told me wonders about you"

You grin, the irony of that sentence making you laugh a little, what wonders could your father know about you? But you kept your composure, the conversation not going any further, and you forgot about him fast enough, when in another of those annoying parties you met the love of your life — or so you thought.

That same night, when you went back home, you were thinking about spending the rest of your life with some guy that flirted with you at the bar, and Jonathan, prayed to whatever thing listening to him up there, that crossed your path with his again.

He practically obsessed with you, because it felt right. You were young, beautiful, wealthy and had a last name that could open even more doors for him, getting tired of saving Falcone's man of going to jail; you were an opportunity, tied to a nice pair of legs.

After a few weeks of stalking, it kinda broke his heart that naive as he expected you, you got married to the guy from the party; he told you then his name was Lewis, and now you doubted it that was even true.

You were finally going to get what you always wished for, a family, love. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect.

It was a dream that you were living in. A dream that shattered in front of you no longer than three months after.

After you contracted married with this man, you took care of the house, now learning all of these housewife duties that you didn't know anything about, but making your best effort to please him, to be the perfect woman ever created, departing from your old life and habits and adjusting them to his own.

You couldn't be more happy, regardless of your bad cooking, the bad-swiped floor and the half-done bed that welcomed you both every night, you finally had love.

It lasted three months. Your wholesome real life fantasy of a marriage destroyed when you found out, accidentally, that this man was just an employee of your dad, willing to get a promotion if he married you. At that moment, you didn't know who you hated more, if the bastard, or your dad who was literally bribing the bastard to love you.

But your dad only wanted to make you happy, tho.

You were embarrassed, not quite sure of how to tell this to Jonathan, because after all, he was there for you, just for the money your dad was paying him. Your cursed the day your dad became rich, because all of it was making you miserable and it felt like it wasn't going to stop.

At this point, a feeling of despite against you was growing within Jonathan, after a few weeks treating you, he quickly remembered why he didn’t chose this path of career, but remembering that he was there because of a major reason; a reason more important than your helpless cries for attention.

He was sick of you, all you ever did was complain in the commodity of your million dollar house, unaware that there were more important problems in the world. It isn’t completely your fault, Jonathan thought one day, you were just an ungrateful brat, and his work was to tame you, and he planned to do just that today.

"So," he startled you, narrowing his eyebrows, an expression in his face that you could only understand as concern. "remember, if you don't speak, I can't help you".

You chuckle and shift your weight in the chair, immediately feeling your eyes fill up with tears as you confronted the fact that you had to speak about it, right now. He was quick to offer you his handkerchief, as he always did and with shaky hands you took it, sniffling onto it, closing your eyes as you felt your whole body shake with each one of your cries.

You felt Jonathan put his hand on your knee, softy caressing the skin that his thumb could reach, opening your eyes and looking at his, Jonathan welcoming you with a pitying look. You put the tissue aside, both him being so close and his scent impregnated on the piece of fabric making you feel a little giddy, a little confused.

Why was your heart racing so much? He was your therapist, here to talk about your former husband.

Jonathan couldn't help but grin a little, knowing he was maybe breaking a rule here, touching you like this, being so close. He couldn't care less, after all, he wasn't here listening to you cry and bitch about your whole life for the sake of your well-being. He was here because he wanted you to break and get on your knees to him. Figuratively and literally.

"It's so embarrassing" you struggled to spit out "He didn't even love me, Doctor"

He hummed, dragging his chair so he was a little closer to you, you looked at him through your teary lashes and tried to keep it together, this wasn't the first time you cried in front of him, but the reason itself was enough to make you feel full of shame.

He didn't say anything, this being a motivation for you to continue.

"My dad was paying him" you murmured, cleaning the mascara off your cheeks. "It was all a lie"

The whole situation was absurd, what happened to you still felt like a sick joke they were playing on you, your dad and Lewis, probably waiting for the perfect moment to tell you the truth.

But that wasn't going to happen, right now the only thing that felt true to you was Jonathan. He set you up to that, and you blindly fell on his silly trap.

"Poor thing" he cooed you, moving his hand a little further up your thigh, noticing the goosebumps on your skin. A mastermind, that's how he felt. "How could they?"

That was all the mendacity he fed you with since you started seeing him, making you believe he was actually empathizing with you, full of loathe against everyone who hurt you, who dared to leave you alone, but now he was there, his task being to pretend to care.

"It's pathetic" you blurted out, leaning into his touch when his prying hand went up to your cheek. You really couldn't say anything more, crying against his hand like it was something you did every monday morning. "I'm so sad. I don't know what to do"

He shook his face, your eyes meeting his with a confused expression, black stained tears dropping on your lap and wetting his hand before he returned it and looked over his clipboard, pretending to think.

You were so vulnerable, ready for him to destroy. He finally got you where he wanted. He then explained you that you were so sad that it made you unaware of a lot of things, blinded by your own pity against yourself that every door that opened, you closed. It all came down to a thing; you needed a diagnosis.

He gave you a moment to process the information, ready to continue with his plan.

"Actually," he started, his tone now more firm, more strict, the one he used when you were approaching the end of the session. On the last one, he recommended you to touch yourself, to liberate oxytocin on your brain or something you really didn't understood.

It was almost evil from his side, he knew that your only thought while doing it would he him ordering you to do so.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of such awful news, Y/N" he stated, making your heart skip a beat. "But I think you're sick"

You nearly gasped, the air got stuck in your throat, more tears gathering in your eyes. You lifted one of your hands to your chest, a million thoughts crossing your head as Jonathan's clever eyes examined your expression.

Bingo.

"Sick" you repeated after a moment, almost like you were making peace with the revelation. "How sick?"

It was an innocent question, your tone of voice shaking as your inferior lip trembled, holding it with your teeth in an attempt to not burst into tears again, your whole body feeling like it was going to break into a million peaces by how much you were shaking in the couch.

Jonathan was quick, standing from the chair he was on and taking a seat by your side, his hand swiftly placing in your knee. You looked at him confused, he never got this close, maybe your sickness was serious.

"What am I, Doctor?" you whispered, your eyes showing him a hint of fear that made him finally lose all his faked professionalism. "Depressed? Crazy?"

Both of you were dying of anticipation now; meanwhile you feared that you were going to get admitted to Arkham, Jonathan was seeing the golden ticket to the best future he could ever achieve, and all thanks to you.

"Oh, no, no" he purred, his hand making its way up to your thigh. "You're sick, not crazy"

You parted your lips as his hand moved more further, not really sure of what was happening, not daring to stop him, too scared of your mental health to think about anything else, not helping the way your legs started to part too.

A sudden gasp left your lips as his hand squeezed your tight, a smile you never saw on him appearing on his face. The crying stopped a moment ago, the surprise of having him so close making you go a little numb.

"I know what a girl like you needs" he said, almost sternly, like his hand wasn't centimeters away from your panties.

Was in that moment, that you knew this wasn’t about therapy anymore.

"You think so?" you whispered, your voice still shaky, but now for a whole different reason. "And what is it, Doctor?"

"To be fucked stupid"

It almost shocked you how he said that as it was a normal diagnosis, like he gave you a name of a medicine you could go and buy at any drugstore in town. You gulped and didn't move when his grip tightened on your leg, your face growing red.

A loud gasp escaped your lips when at your lack of response, Jonathan grabbed you hard by the jaw and forced you to look at him. Your eyes glistened with nothing but fear, your brows narrowing as you mumbled something that he really couldn't understand, and it wasn't like he wanted to.

"You're sick, Y/N" he repeated, more harshly this time, his hand moving your head as he spoke. "And I'm going to cure you"

He let go of your face to clasp his lips against yours, a kiss very far away from sweet, his mouth moving roughly against yours. You never had been kissed like this, so you tried to play it along, trying to show him some of the love you felt for him, that you thought you owed him.

But he didn't care if you felt loved during the kiss, trying to assert the dominance he held upon you, his hand now holding firmly the back of you neck to prevent you from pulling away.

It was a mess; your teeth clashed, drool was dripping from your chin as his tongue explored every space of your mouth, not leaving anywhere of it untouched. Your movements were a little stiff, unsure of what to do, trying to provide the sweetness that he lacked.

His hand moved to your the front of your neck and squeezed it a little, making you yelp in surprise, the sound muffled by his mouth. You tried to get away from the kiss, confused about his rough actions against you, a little scared of him even, almost like you didn’t trust him every little part of your brain in this same couch for the last couple of months.

But then it clicked on your foggy brain, he knew you, perfectly— you only knew his name, you didn’t know what this man was capable of.

You could only move a few centimeters away from his hungry mouth, your lips parted as tears welled in your eyes from the pressure he was applying to your neck.

“Stop” you managed to stutter, your breath mixing with his. “I can’t- breathe”

You doubted that he listened to you, your voice not coming out of your throat at all and getting stuck in your larynx, your voice-box completely muffled by his strong grip.

“Shut up, brat” he spitted, his tone sounding full of abhor, your eyes wide open as you felt the air leaving your body and your lungs starting to burn. “Always getting what you want”

You weakly placed one of your hands around his wrist, another attempt of gasp elicited from your agape mouth as he lifted his other hand and choked you with both, something in your dizzy mind telling you that he was possessed.

“Crying all the time- complaining” he continued, not caring if you were listening, the suffocation being to much to bare now. “So selfish”

And maybe he was.

Your brain was filled with fear, wondering how it all went from a kiss to this— almost getting killed by your therapist in your couch. You opened your eyes to meet his, feeling like your chest was on fire as there wasn’t any air flowing in, seeing how the blue of Jonathan’s eyes has darkened and his lips were parted as well, the muscles of his jaw twitching as he choked you to death.

Your eyebrows narrowed together in terror as you noticed that familiar tingly sensation in your lower belly and your thighs clenching together. Maybe it was something about him exercising this power over you, how you felt so feeble under his touch, that was probably leaving bruises on your neck for you to carry and show around what he was making you do it.

You didn’t have enough time to think about it, you were practically dying.

“And you are enjoying this?” he said with an amused tone, probably noticing how your thighs fragily contracted against one another.

You felt yourself slowly lose your consciousness when finally the relief came and the air started to flow again to your desperate lungs, taking long and loud puffs of air when his hand let go of your neck. Your erratic breath was interrupted by a loud moan that escaped you when Crane yanked you by your hair and shoved you to the floor.

He was quick yo position you between his legs, looking at you through his unfixed glasses, giving you a twisted smile that made you quiver in fear, that growing wet patch on your panties making you feel like a really sick girl.

“Doctor-” you mumbled, closing your eyes as he pulled your hair, withdrawing a mewl off your mouth. “Hurts”

“You talk when I tell you to talk” he snickered, adjusting the way his fingers gripped your hair. You thought that he might just pull out the strand he was tugging. “I’m sick of your whining”

You felt more tears well up in your eyes; not sure if it was from the pain in your head or how his words felt like a knife that landed right on your heart. You were confused, sad, angry— a little hot, too.

“I pay you yo listen to me” you said, your voice so shaky you were lucky he could understand you. You wished he didn’t understand you.

Another sort of moan left your lips as a hard slap made a landing in your cheek, your face turned to the side because of the impact. You closed your eyes in disbelief, a cry coming out as you felt helpless, wondering if this was some exposure therapy he was experimenting on you.

He repeated himself, instructing you to talk only when you were told so, nodding in defeat as you accepted whatever this was and continued to play along with Jonathan’s sick fantasy of controlling you, without even knowing it.

You looked at him with nothing but inquietude, the look in his eyes giving you the foreboding that nothing good was about to happen now, frightened of what we would do to you.

He didn’t show any hints of letting go of your hair anytime soon, just holding it firmly to keep you looking at him through your heavy lashes, a wicked grin on his smug face.

“Let’s give that whining mouth of yours a good use” he said, and you gulped, understanding what he wanted and quivering in fear, not really understanding why the sticky sensation between your legs grew.

“Undo my pants” he commanded, and you stayed still, your eyes not leaving his even when another slap landed on your tear-wet face. “Do as you’re told, brat. This might be your only cure”

You couldn’t help but sob a little, his tone sounding so definitive, so professional. Your trembling hands reached his belt and unbuckling it ungracefully, taking longer than he expected, you heard him chuckle as you unbuttoned his pants afterwards, then putting your hands back in front of your lap.

“C’mon” he pulled your hair again, causing you to moan in pain. “Don’t make me tell you what to do”

You looked at him again in nothing but shame, trying to resist to this humiliating request of his, but complying it anyways. He said he was going to cure you, but now you doubted it, right now, you only wanted this to be over.

With a last look at his eyes you returned your attention to the growing bulge in his slacks, the shame in your brain being present at all times, not quite helping the way your eyes were fixated on his clothed member. You were quick to free him out after your staring earned you a other harsh pull of hair, your lips turned into a line when his cock slapped his abdomen, causing his dress shirt to wrinkle a little.

“Go on, Y/N” he encouraged you, as you looked at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him for mercy, knowing that even if you screamed it at him, he just wouldn’t listen. “This isn’t about what you want, anymore. Is about what you need”

A tear slid from your eyes and disappeared down your cheek when his free hand placed the tip of his hard cock on your parted lips, gesturing you to take it and not waste more of his time— more than you already did.

“Open up, whore” he said under his breath, using your hair as a device to move your head and help you shove his length down your throat. You complied, the tears in your eyes now soaking in you cheeks by the effort that you were making trying to welcome his thick shaft down your mouth.

You were sure you scratched him with your teeth a few times as he bobbed your head up and down with his strong hand, manhandling you without care for his own pleasure. You placed your hands on his knees, trying not to gag, but when his tip touched the bottom of your throat, you couldn’t help it.

You cried as you felt suffocated again, now for a whole different reason, a more humiliating one, and you almost wished he killed you then. His hips buckled everytime your lips reached the base of his cock, the room filled with the sounds of your mouth and saliva coating his shaft and the soft moans that came out of his poisoned lips.

“Take it, whore” he said, his voice now husky and distorted by the pleasure, the pain that your teeth accidentally inflicted on him turning him even more. “God- you are horrible at this”

He chuckled between heavy breaths, pulling you by the hair and releasing his cock from your mouth, a vulgar pop filling both of your ears at the sudden separation of your lips and his member. Your eyes looked at the floor, feeling such a shame that the mere thought of meeting his face with your fearful face made you cringe, the pulsating pain on the back of your head making you dizzy.

“You can’t suck dick properly” he said, his tone sounding like he was making fun of you. “No wonder why your husband left you. You’re just pathetic”

You finally rose up your face to look at that insufferable smile of his, ignoring the way his cock was still hanging there in front of you, almost brushing your nose. His fingers finally untangled from your hair and giving you some sort of solace, the consolation that this traumatic session was over.

Maybe the remedy was worse than the sickness itself.

“Jonathan, stop it, plea-”

Your imploration was completely ignored, followed by another slap on your wet cheek that made you cry even more, not understanding how this man could’ve been the same one who made you felt loved and finally listened. You fell for a lie once again.

“Get on the couch” he simply said, his words were like a bucket of cold water fell on you. “Stop the bitching, don’t want to hear it”

“And I’m your doctor. Not Jonathan” he reminded you, making you feel even more ashamed.

You did as he told, again, half-standing from the floor and sitting next to him, trying to take as much space from him as you could before he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, your face growing red as his face was now centimeters away from yours.

“You look so beautiful when you cry” he whispered, caressing your face but trying to nor wipe the tears away, almost like he was admiring you. It made you melt into his touch, glad that his kind demeanor was there again. Even if his words made you cringe— and the fact that his cock was still out, you felt your heart grew warmer by the way he tenderly touched you.

It didn’t last much longer, when his lips twitched into a malicious smile and went down to nibble your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses around the bruised skin and bitting where his fingers hurt you previously, making your fingers wrap on his hair and cry for mercy, trying for him to stop hurting you this much.

“Shut up, stupid brat” he repeated that same insult, making you swallow your cries, closing your eyes in disbelief as he continued to injure your already suffering skin.

You arched your back in surprise when all of the sudden his hands reached for your breasts, groping your tits like his life depending on it, stimulating you through the fabric of your shirt, but all you felt was fear and anger, impotence flowing through your veins because you just couldn’t scream and push him away, fear was freezing you on the spot.

The worst part? You maybe didn’t wanted to push him away. Because maybe if he gets what he wants now you would be cured and he’ll be back to normal, returning you the sweet Doctor Crane that you met once, not this monster that was groping you like a piece of meat.

He clicked his tongue and dropped both of his hands to spread your legs open, forcing your back to drop onto the hand rester of the couch. You looked at him with big eyes, your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest and scream to Jonathan that enough was enough, you just couldn’t take any of this anymore.

But your heart stayed there, between your lungs that seemed incapable to hold any air, making your breathing erratic. So nobody screamed Jonathan to stop, and he continued with his profanation against your persona— your dignity.

He bit his lip at the sight of your fucked-up face, your legs open as it showed him the dark patch on your baby blue panties, darting his eyes from your half-exposed crotch to your teary eyes.

“God, keep crying and I might come now” he growled, lowering his face to meet your pussy, kissing it through your underwear, making you mewl, closing your eyes at the sudden attention your core was getting.

You felt embarrassed at how much you enjoyed when he moved the fabric to the side and started making out with your cunt, swallowing your fluids like a starved man.

“So wet” he mumbled against your labia, the vibration making your eyes roll back, bitting your lip to prevent any moan to come out; he was raping you, why did he make you enjoy it? “I bet you like this, to be treated like a whore”

You shook your head, more tears falling out of your eyes as you felt nothing else but humiliation, pleasure washing over your body everytime his tongue brushed your clit, your back arched against nothing.

“You like it?” he said, finally pulling out and pushing his body up so his face was in front of yours, his cock grazing against your now stimulated pussy, a gasp leaving your lips, a gasp that quickly turned into a hurting moan when his hand slapped you again, this time in your throbbing cunt. “Answer me”

“I- I do” you whispered, gripping his shoulders when you felt him align the head of his member with your whole, scared of how it was going to fit. You had trouble taking it when he face-fucked you, how the fuck it was going to fit down there?

“I’m going to fuck you so good” he whispered between pants, jerking himself off before entering you. “You’re going to forget that pathetic husband of yours”

You couldn’t help but cry, trying to push him off by the shoulders, a terrified look on your face. “It won’t fit, Doctor” you pleaded, a crooked grin on his face as you keep on calling him that. “I beg you, don’t-”

“Yes, beg me” he said, starting to push his member inside you with a slow but relentlessly pace, not giving you enough time to adjust, just to scream and hit him weakly on the chest, face and shoulders before ge grabbed your hands and pinned them down, on the sides of your body. “I’m going to cure you- do you so good”

His voice was low, as he barely could speak when he felt just how tight you were, your walls hugging his cock just the right way, his pulsating head making your mind dizzy, the stinging pain starting to be forgotten.

But when he slid out and entered back it, the hardness of his movement made your insides burn with pain, a loud cry echoing in the walls of the living room as he started to trust into your pussy with a fast pace, not caring at all if you felt good.

He snapped his hips against yours with an animalistic force, growls escaped from his mouth every time his cock was welcomed by the warmth of your stretch whole, the sensation making him go even more feral, making you cry more.

He let go of one of your hands and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at his eyes as he fucked you vigorously, the blue on his iris not existent anymore, only his widely dilated pupils meeting yours, your blurred vision distinguishing the depraved expression in his face.

“You- so tight” he snarled, his voice barely audible, covered by the sound of skin slapping and your loud cries. “I bet your stupid husband didn’t fuck you like this”

You felt nothing but shame as you felt his cock now sliding in and out more easily, the wetness of your cunt growing as he spoke to you like that, that familiar heat flourishing in your lower belly as his words degraded you, your cries quickly becoming moans.

“This was all you needed- fuck” he said, his spit splashing your face as he talked, his words full of disdain. “A good dick, that’s all it takes to keep bitches like you quiet” You nodded, thinking that if you agreed he would stop. How wrong you were.

In a quick movement Jonathan took his cock out and spun you around, not giving you time to get on your ass up by laying your chest down before he stabbed your hole again, pushing your skirt all the way up to see how his pelvis came into collision with your ass.

You were moaning like a bitch in heat now, sure that the maids were listening, not really caring about it anymore. Jonathan was fucking you nice and hard, your mouth wide open as his tip brushed your cervix, screaming to him to keep it right there.

“I’m close” he said, pulling your hair back to press his chest to your back, his other hand going down to play with your swollen clit, wanting your to come around his cock like the slut he knew you were. “Come with me, you whore”

“Yes” you moaned, your tongue out as his cock hit the right spots, making your hips to move against his, grinding against his hand and dick, feeling your wetness drip down to your thighs. “Yes, yes, I want to”

He laughed, approaching your ear with his tongue to bite it, leaving a long and wet kiss underneath it that made you grow hotter, your eyes closed as you let him use you; the only thought in your mind being him and his wonder-working cock.

Truth was, he was fucking you stiffly, every slam of his hips stronger than the last one, but you were so deprived of touch, so dick-starved, that even if Jonathan was fucking you like a lifeless doll, only for the sake of his pleasure, you loved it, even when it hurt you.

“I’m going to fill you up” he said against your ear, his hand leaving your clit unattended as he grabbed your hip to increase the velocity of his thrusts, ramming your hole like a demented man, making your head drop against his shoulder and scream at the ceiling, now knowing what he meant by curing you.

“Going to get you pregnant” he said, more to himself than anything “so you don’t have to bitch about being alone anymore”

You opened your eyes with terror, you didn’t want children, you were so young. The idea made you frightened, the moaning now sounding like little nos and pull outs, but Jonathan didn’t listen.

“Doctor please, please, pull out” you pleaded, reaching for his hips and trying to push him away, one of his hands slapping your ass and pulling you down by your shoulder blade so you wouldn’t fight anymore. “Doctor Crane please”

“I will fucking fill you up, Y/N” he chanted, laughing at the idea of your round belly and your swollen tits, carrying his baby all day and feeling all worked up and needy all day, only waiting for him to fuck you all day. “You won’t be alone again. You won’t be sad again”

Then you realized it.

When he came, your hot walls creamed every single drop of his cum, making his thrusts sloppy and slow, his moans filling your ears as you sobbed under his touch, feeling his seed paint your walls and load your insides with his sperm.

That was your cure.

His hot release that now flooded inside your leaking cunt, that was your so-promised antidote. He took away your solitude by giving you his and yours firstborn, a bastard baby that would give you the company that you lacked.

You felt him chuckle as he rode out his high, the chase of his own climax made you forget yours, so now there you were, your swollen cunt looking for its release while his rested among your insides calmly, like it was meant to be.

He didn’t pull out immediately, taking his time to appreciate the sight of your skirt resting in your hips all rolled up, your bruised neck and messy hair, the way your ass was exposed to him by the way he had you arching your back. All for him— for him to wreck.

He pulled out and rolled his eyes when you started crying, now being annoying instead of hot. You sat on the couch and saw him button his pants and fix his hair, hissing when you felt nothing but pain growing in your worn-out pussy. You explained through your weak voice how he ruined your life, that he was the worst person you’ve ever met and that now you had to carry the product of his sick and twisted rapist-fantasy, even tried to hit him, but your pathetic tantrum only gained you another slap in the face, and a stern look.

When he tried to stand up and leave, you grabbed him by the wrist and begged him not to, he couldn’t just leave you, not now, not ever.

“Don’t be so ungrateful” he said, a smile that made you feel nothing but trepidation in his face. “You’ll never be alone again”

You couldn’t help but feel scared. Scared of him, of what just happened, of what’s going to happen next, scared for your future son with this evil specie of a man.

When you continued to cry, and he pulled you for a hug as he assured you that he would never leave you; and how could he? He had a long life of success waiting for him now, giving a girl of your status his last name, his children. Oh, it’s going to be wonderful, he just needed to tame you and make you the perfect slave for him, and that wasn’t going to be hard.

You were sure that you’ll never be loved, but at least now Jonathan was going to be with you. You’ll never be alone again.

thanks for reading. w/love, fenina;)

taglist: @lovesickxcherries @genini @ilunapb @ostricx @devotedlyshadowytheorist

if you want to be added let me know, it’ll be my pleasure🫶🏻

#cillian x fem!reader #jonathan crane x reader #cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy x reader #cillian smut #cillian x reader #cillian x y/n #jonathan crane fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #jonathan crane x you #cillian one shot #cillian fic #peaky blinder imagine #batman fanfiction #scarecrow x reader

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juyeonszn · 5 months

Text

BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT

THE TBZ FRAT HOUSE IS HOSTING THE BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT COLLAB BY @juyeonszn AND @itsbeeble!

YOU’RE INVITED!

PAIRING tbz x f!reader

GENRES smut ﹒fluff ﹒minimal angst ﹒crack

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! mature language, mentions of alcohol, sexual content, more warnings per individual fic!

SUMMARY have you ever wondered what your favorite frat boyz are up to in their personal lives? if so, then these fics are just for you! join us as we take a glimpse into the tau beta zeta fraternity and see what they get up to in their free time!

MORE LETS GAURRRRR i’m so excited to announce this collab with loml reese both as a cute fun little idea we had and in celebration of her 1 year tumblr anniversary! we also realized it happened to be the same day as tbz day LOL so that’s kinda crazy 😭 my boyz have been here for 6 years wow 💔 anyways i hope all of u love these as much as we do! and always, don’t forget to rb if u enjoyed!! send an ask if u’d like to be tagged in these <3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies

FALL SEMESTER

TRY HARD — LEE JUYEON (12/6)

Need to get rid of some junk? Well these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited time offer)

EXCITEMENT — JI CHANGMIN (12/6)

You know, when you told your girl friends that you’d never finished before, you were expecting it to blow over like no big deal. What you weren’t expecting was for it to spiral into a whole other mess.

SEEING STARS — KIM SUNWOO (12/10)

It’s slightly embarrassing how Sunwoo is naive enough to take Eric Sohn’s “advice” to heart. Luckily, you like idiots. Especially when they kick a ball into your face and agree to do a semester’s worth of school work for you.

CLUMSY — JU HAKNYEON (12/10)

When Haknyeon ran into you at a TBZ party for the first time, he didn’t think he would fall for you so quickly. Or literally. Or both simultaneously. But there’s a first time for everything, he supposes.

“FRIENDLY” COMPETITION — LEE SANGYEON (12/14)

The TBZ frat had always had a rivalry with the KAT sorority. At least, they did when you and Sangyeon became the presidents three years ago. What happens when you mix a little friendly competition into this rivalry of yours?

JE NE SAIS QUOI — JACOB BAE (12/14)

Jacob thought the concept of fraternities was stupid. So stupid that despite every single one of his friends being in one, he still refused to join. However, after meeting you at one of the TBZ parties, he’s starting to think maybe they’re not that horrible.

SPRING SEMESTER

LET LOOSE — KIM YOUNGHOON (12/19)

Younghoon has hated you. He thought you were stuck up with that better-than-you princess attitude of yours. What better than to just…fuck it right out of you?

(NO) STRINGS ATTACHED — LEE HYUNJAE (12/19)

Becoming friends with Lee Hyunjae after his valiant attempt to save your life (stopping you from drunk driving) was certainly not on your year’s bingo card. Also not on your bingo card? Waking up in his bed every other night following, but it’s not like you’re really complaining.

NO BITCHES? — ERIC SOHN (12/22)

When you met Eric, you’d thought he was just another frat boy, looking to get into any woman’s pants (particularly yours at that moment). You never would’ve thought that he was just a loser who really liked FNAF and just thought you were pretty.

PARTY O’CLOCK — CHOI CHANHEE (12/22)

In spite of being a frat boy himself, Chanhee could never actually see himself enjoying the luxuries of the title. Besides, how could he with all the responsibilities of being treasurer? Enter you and your carefree spirit and Chanhee’s got a real big problem on his hands.

PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER — KEVIN MOON (PT. 1 1/1, PT. 2 1/3)

It wasn’t like you and Kevin hated each other. In fact, you quite admired him despite his somewhat indifferent attitude toward you. Well, now that you’re paired up for the last dance of the year, you guess it’s the perfect time to find out why.

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nothorses · 9 months

Note

I hope this is okay to ask but I’m pretty desperate and googling stuff has failed me, so do you or one of your followers have recommendations on how to deal with the BO that comes with taking testosterone? I never had BO that couldn’t just be managed by showering enough and putting on just any deodorant but now that I’m taking T I sweat a lot and I smell bad and I nothing I do seems to fix it. My boss has politely mentioned it several times now despite all my effort and it’s so mortifying and embarrassing.

Things I’ve tried and am currently doing include so many different deodorants which I bring to work and reapply, putting baking powder in my shoes, on top of general basic hygiene. But none of it seems to make a dent and it doesn’t help that I can’t really change clothes or shoes throughout the day. I have to wear closed toed shoes and a lab coat and my job is pretty active, plus it’s 10 minutes walk from the parking lot and it’s over 100F or 40 C right now so when I arrive at work I’m already pouring sweat. I also have a large chest so it all gets under my bra and soaks into it and by the end of the day the bottom part of my bra reeks.

I know some ocasional BO on a busy day can’t be helped but none of the other people at work including other male coworkers seem to have the same issue at all, so there’s got to be a solution but I haven’t found it. Im thinking of trying antiperspirants but I also know I need to sweat and I would rather not put my health at risk. So if anyone has something that works for them please let me know bc im really desperate here.

First I want to say: you're not doing anything wrong. You probably just sweat more than some other folks, and that's not your fault, and you shouldn't feel bad about it. I'm gonna give you some ideas to try if you haven't yet, but I don't know how much you've already tried, and it sounds like you've been through a lot already.

I also have always had terrible BO, and the only thing that helped at all pre-T was "prescription strength" deodorant. I honestly have had less of an issue since starting T, weirdly enough, but part of that is also that I physically cannot stand to shower any less frequently than every single morning (not necessarily a good thing lol), and I also started using antibacterial products on my armpits when I shower.

Currently I use benzoyl peroxide body wash on my armpits, which can be drying, but it hasn't caused me issues so far (just look for Panoxyl, other brands have caused irritation for me and my partner both). I used Betadine surgical scrub before that for a bit (you collect weird shit when you work with horses 🤷‍♂️) and that worked well, too- plus it's less likely to irritate skin.

I also find that certain shirts cause me to sweat there more, and those also tend to be the more form-fitting shirts that get up into my armpits. That skin def needs to breathe.

My partner has had trouble with feet/shoes in the past, and he's used cedar shoeforms to mitigate that (cedar is also antibacterial!). He also makes sure any shoes he gets are breathable (not leather), and if they are leather, he gives them at least a day or two between wears. Probably good practice if you notice any kind of smell on any of your shoes.

You mention baking powder, and I'm not sure if you meant baking soda and just mixed them up (which I do all the time lmao) but just in case: if you are using baking powder, the one you want is baking soda.

I don't have much advice for chest sweat, except that you may want to consider bringing an extra bra (and maybe an extra pair of socks if you're noticing it before the end of the day) to change into midway through the day. You can also look for more breathable fabrics in general, especially athletic-wear, which is already designed to help wick sweat and mitigate those issues.

Lastly, I want to stress again that you're not doing anything wrong. Some people have more trouble with this than others, and if you're really struggling in a way nobody around you is, it may be that you've got something going on in your body that they don't have to deal with. This could be a medical thing as well (like acne!!), and there's no shame in seeking medical solutions for it. Talk to your doctor if you can; it sounds like it's causing you distress, and you deserve to be comfortable.

#advice #resources #testosterone #hrt #testosterone hrt

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fayes-fics · 7 months

Text

Comfort

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Benedict comforts his new wife when her courses arrive…

Warnings: mentions of menstruation, non graphic references to period blood. Otherwise, just the fluffiest of fluff.

Word Count: 2k

Authors Note: Unbetaed. Thanks to @colettebronte for help with the title. Request fill for anon HERE, where Benedict comforts his new wife when her period arrives overnight. This might be the most saccharine-sweet fluff I have ever written. For my usual smut peeps… err, apologies? Normal filth will resume shortly, I'm sure lol. <3

You stir from your slumber to a dreaded dampness you know far too well.

Oh dear heavens, no!

Overnight, your courses have arrived without warning. Or perhaps, with hindsight, there were some signs, but you had assigned blame for the symptoms elsewhere. You had put your tiredness down to the exhaustive social whirlwind of your first ball as a Bridgerton. The dull lower back pain you had felt merely due to traipsing around the extensive grounds the host was keen to show off to all and sundry.

For a few moments, you lay staring frettingly at the ceiling, unsure what to do. You can tell that your nightgown and, likely, the bedsheets will carry evidence of this unwanted early arrival. You had plans to inform your lady's maids to prepare the following night. Trust your body to be at least a day early when you least need it.

Next to you, your new husband of just fourteen days, Benedict Bridgerton, is sleeping soundly. You roll your head to look briefly at his handsome face in repose on the adjacent pillow, then bite your lip in anxiety.

Oh god, he cannot see this!! He simply cannot! What am I to do?!?

____

You had been taught a few things in the run-up to marriage by your Mama. One of them was never to mention or address the “monthly visitor” to your husband—it was a matter for you and your maids to deal with. On the nights you were “visited”, you were strongly counselled to sleep in your room rather than with your husband so he would not have to deal with “such unpleasantness”. This may have been logical advice for a regular wife of the Ton, but your mother probably never considered how non-traditional your husband would turn out to be.

Hours after your nuptials, upon arrival at your new marital home - a wonderful brick townhouse just a few streets from Bridgerton House - you had politely inquired where your bedchamber was. At first, he laughed, then frowned when he realised you were serious. It turned out he had not made plans for, or indeed, set up a room for you separate from his.

“We are husband and wife now. We shall sleep together,” he explained, drawing you into his arms and planting a tender kiss on your forehead.

“But… every night?” you stuttered, still grappling with what exactly was expected of you as a wife.

“Yes darling,” he confirmed, still sounding vaguely bemused.

____

Since that day, you have shared a bed every night, which has been delightful for so many reasons. Indeed, you have never slept better in your life than in the two weeks since your wedding, falling asleep securely in his arms and awakening to his handsome, smiling face…

…Well, that is until now.

Now, you have no earthly idea what to do.

You surmise it must be early, dawn breaking, a grey, feeble light peeking around the top of the heavy velvet drape curtains over the windows. Barely enough to see shapes and rough outlines as your eyes adjust. Not wanting to awaken Benedict by igniting a candle, you gingerly push back the bedspread and slide out as quietly as possible. In the mirror across the room, you catch sight of a scarlet bloom, visible even in this low light, so stark against your white cotton nightgown. Turning back around, your fears are fully realised when you see a mirror imprint left upon the sheet where you slept.

Horrified, you fly into a flurry of movements. Wanting to hide both your nightgown and the sheets you have sullied, albeit unintentionally. You slip as silently as you are able to the linen supplies cupboard and gather terrycloths designed for bathing. One, you wrap around yourself; another two, you decide to place upon the bed, hoping it will conceal the stain until your husband leaves the bedroom.

You cannot wait to bathe but know that running a bath would surely awaken Benedict, the noise of water being poured into the echoey copper, even if across the hallway, being bound to rouse him.

Once back next to your side of the bed, you push the covers towards the middle and start to pull at the edge of the undersheet, hoping to slide a cloth under the stain and one atop, to stop the evidence from spreading. You glance furtively at your husband as you work, who unfortunately is turned onto his side facing towards you, as he often is when you awaken.

In all heavens, could you not turn the other way just for once, my love?

You move as stealthily as you can, so very keen to be unnoticed. The most challenging part is trying to wedge a cloth underneath, the sheet pulled taut by your husband's weight pinning down the other side. Just as you are fighting with both hands shoved far under the sullied sheet, you hear a sudden sharp intake of breath.

Oh no! He is awake.

His eyes fly open, and he squints as he takes in the sight before him. Then, a frown passes over his features.

“What on earth are you doing, my love?” his voice is deep and rough with sleep.

You whip your hands out from under the sheet, belatedly realising you are also muttering a repeated “no no, no no” under your breath as you attempt to reach for the upper cover and hide what has happened, but it is just out of reach, kneeling as you are beside the bed.

“Darling,” he sits up slightly, rubbing his eyes, obviously thrown off by your agitated state. “Please, whatever is the matter??” his tone rising in volume and concern.

Your eyeline falls reflexively upon what you are trying to conceal on the bedsheets, and his tracks yours. Unable to handle your embarrassment, you bury your head in your hands and slump backwards onto your heels, certain this will be repulsive to him.

“I am so sorry, husband; I was not expecting this to happen today; please forgive me,” you mutter defeatedly behind your hands, ashamed.

You are expecting a noise of derision or disgust. What you do not expect is a chuckle and then a large, warm hand brushing your shoulder.

“Darling, please get up off the floor,” his ask caring, no rebuke to be heard.

Your head slowly tilts up, and to your shock, he is leaning over onto your side of the bed, not far above the stain, and is observing you mildly befuddled benevolence.

“But, I…” you trail off, even as he reaches for your hand.

“It is fine,” he cuts in, squeezing reassuringly with his fingers. “You are a woman. Such things happen. There is no need for shame,” his eyes are soft with understanding. “I do have sisters, you know,” he adds with a sanguine laugh, a shorthand to explain his knowledge of your situation.

Your mouth falls open a fraction, completely taken aback by his affable, almost nonchalant reaction; it is very different from what your Mama taught you to expect. While you flounder in surprise, he rolls away and gets out of bed, padding around to your side, crouching next to you and drawing you into his arms.

“You… you are not repulsed?” you stutter as you recover, your brow creasing.

“Of course not, my love. It is perfectly natural, and there is nothing about you or your body that repulses me,” he assures, kissing your cheek. “In fact, it is very much the opposite,” his tone sincere and soothing.

You get lost in his hazy eyes and gentle smile, accepting his doting kisses that make you feel warm from head to toe. It is then he looks down and spies the bathing cloth you have swaddled yourself in from the waist down.

“I assume your nightgown is in a similar state? And that you would like to get clean?” he guesses empathetically as you nod demurely. “Then I shall summon the staff to run you a bath,” he hums, delicately brushing the stray strands of hair that had fallen askew in your scrambling efforts.

“Thank you, Benedict, so very much” you exhale, relieved and still slightly unmoored by his reaction.

His face breaks into that crooked smile that makes butterflies flutter under your ribs.

“Please, my love, it is literally nothing. We have promised ourselves to each other for life. I expect to see this many more times,” he explains calmly as he rings a bell to summon his butler and presently provides instructions for a warm bath to be drawn and the bedding to be changed by the maids.

“You do not wish for me to sleep elsewhere when I am so afflicted?” you check as soon as you are alone again.

He chuckles as he did before. “Whatever for? You are my wife. I want you beside me all the time. It matters not to me if you have your courses. I still wish to fall asleep with you in my arms.” His sweet sincerity makes your heart skip a beat as he nuzzles your temple. “Although it has been a few short days since our wedding, I have rather gotten used to you being beside me. I cannot sleep soundly without you, my love. Nor would I want to try. We shall share our bed every night,” he adds solemnly.

“But, what if one of us is sick?” you inquire as he helps you to stand up from the floor, pulling you into his arms.

“‘Tis no bother. We shall surely both contract the same, seeing as we reside under the same roof; at least we can suffer in company,” he jests warmly into your ear as his hands rub your lumbar spine with a pattern that soothes the ache you feel there.

“What if you must travel for your art?” you challenge.

“I would be heartbroken if you did not come with me,” he volleys back with a playful pout that you can't help but giggle at.

“What if one day we have a child, and they will not rest without their mother?” your question is almost timid, knowing there is a bloom on your cheeks at the very thought.

He cups your jaw gently and tilts your face to look up into his. His mien is so devoted that the air is stolen from your lungs.

“Then they shall simply sleep between us, my love. It will be my child, too. You will not be alone. Not when you have your monthly courses and not in the raising of our children. Of that, I promise,” his cadence is lilting and ardent.

“Thank you, Benedict,” you breathe shakily, scarcely able to believe that the man you married is nothing like how your mother had warned. It makes you feel so grateful you cannot stop your emotions, heightened at this time of the month, from bubbling over.

A large, warm thumb blots the tears that gather at the corner of your eyes without comment; he just accepts your state, bussing a kiss onto your forehead.

“I love you, y/n,” he breathes, warm air gusting over your skin.

“I love you too, Benedict,” your reply muffled into his neck as you mould into his strong embrace, remaining there until a lady’s maid taps on the door to convey that your bath is ready.

And true to his word, over the years, you are never a night without your husband. Through many monthly courses, through sickness and health, through children and even grandchildren. It is always his face you see just before your eyes droop closed and the moment they flutter open again. Your safe space. Your comfort.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader

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captainfern · 10 months

Note

REQUESTS OPEN ?!?!?!? PLEEEEASE ,MAY I ????

May i request a piece for our boi Casper ( Ghost ) 🥹🥹? Something along the idea of : mutual pining with reader being an absolute sweetheart to Ghost (and everyone else but mostly Casper) BUT it starts with Ghost trying to make reader go away by being a dick to them to avoid dealing with the feelings, reader gets hurt and upset and then turn into the most cold stone souless person every seen by mankind and ofcourse Ghost is mad and trying to fix it but how to do that when nothing works .... Confess \o/

Can be nsfw if you want it to be, I can bet on anything that no one will mind :3

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Orion

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader

[“Orion” by Metallica]

[18+]

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• summary - a bit of grumpy x sunshine. grumpy fucks it up and really, really wants to apologise lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 5k • warnings - fem!reader, grumpy!ghost at the start but that doesn't last long lol, porn with a sprinkle of plot, a bit of subby!ghost [he begs— you're fucking welcome whores 🙏], oral [f!receiving], unprotected piv, mutual masturbation, orgasm denial?, ok it's not "a bit" of sub!ghost it's a lot of sub!ghost, he whines and whimpers in this btw, praise, begging, good lord this is self-indulgent, strong language

thank you anon !! i've changed it a little, just because i don't think ghost would be a complete dick, just a grumpy and if he does act like a dick, he doesn't mean it fr <3 but i hope you like it anyway !!

and hehe yes i made it nsfw i can't resist i mean look at that man

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He was hopelessly in love with you.

And it fucking pissed him off.

How could he not be? You flounced around base, smiling and giggling at god knows what. You cooked for the task force, helped clean, kept them company in the rec-room, all with a dazzling smile plastered on your face.

You were kind and respectful, too. Always did what Price told you, like a good little rookie. Always listened to Soap's advice, improving your shooting techniques. Always understood Gaz's signals, knowing exactly what he was thinking, and what he wanted you to do. And always, always being so good for your lieutenant.

You waited on tenterhooks at every word that came from Ghost's mouth. He watched the way you listened to him, your full attention on him. Sparkling eyes watching his next move, ears in tune to the slight huff and puff of his brewing anger. It seemed you knew how to deal with his emotions better than he did.

And it pissed him off.

You never seemed to get angry with him, frustrated or upset. No matter how many times he raised his voice, reprimanded you for doing something utterly moronic. You just nodded, apologised calmly, smiled and walked away, leaving him smouldering inside his own grievances.

"What the fuck are you doing, rookie? You're in the fucking way."

"Sorry, Lieutenant!" You chirped, bounding away.

And that wasn't the only way you put up with him.

Some days were hard for Ghost, dealing with everything going on inside his head. He struggled to admit it, too. So when he found himself in the barracks kitchen at three in the morning, frustration bubbling inside him, he threw the jar he had struggled— and failed to open— at the wall. It burst, shattering into a million tiny pieces, sprinkling across the floor like shards of crystal. The contents— strawberry jam, if he remembered correctly— slugged down the wall, a vibrant red trail smearing against the paint.

You entered, maybe awoken by the shattering of glass, finding Ghost heaving silently in the kitchen, chest moving at a million miles per hour as his heart raced.

You stretched a hand in his direction. "Are you—?"

"Don't." Ghost hissed.

You retreated.

"Do you need—?"

"Didn't I fucking say don't?" Ghost snapped, eyes flashing.

He knew that was harsh. Saw it in the way your bottom lip trembled every so slightly, and your sparkling eyes dimmed in the low light of the kitchen. But, you didn't give up. Of course you fucking didn't.

He watched you silently as you grabbed the broom from the edge of the room, and began sweeping up the glass. He continued to watch as you scooped up the shards of glass, every last glittering fragment, and toss them into the bin. You even cleaned the large smear of jam off the wall, humming quietly to yourself as you did.

Ghost just watched.

Once you were done, you turned to him, offering a sympathetic smile. Then, you walked to the refrigerator and plucked another jar of jam from the door. You offered it to him, still smiling.

"This one's raspberry. Not strawberry, unfortunately, but I think it tastes better, anyway." Maybe you were just trying to make him feel better. If you did, it worked. Spitefully well, too.

He took it from you. He didn't thank you, though, just turned away with a muffled sigh. You continued to look at him, a soft smile still on your lips.

He wondered if you were expecting a thank you. Probably. So when he went to open his mouth, when he went to mutter out a thank you, he turned, and you were gone, shuffling out of the kitchen, still humming to yourself.

A week later, Ghost was still intent on denying whatever it was he felt for you.

The five of you on a day off, relaxing around the rec-room. You played pool with Gaz, laughing. Melodic. You looked so carefree, so effortlessly beautiful, and it made Ghost's cheeks heat up beneath his mask. Fucking hell.

You were quite handsy with the sergeant, too, Ghost noticed. Hugging and touching, arms around his waist, fingers trailing his arms. Ghost watched from across the room, seething silently. Gaz made you laugh again. Again and again and the sound of your laughter was making the grip Ghost had on his glass almost earth-shattering. All white-knuckle and pure jealously. Not like he admitted that to himself, though.

You eventually turned your pretty face towards Ghost, lips curved.

"Fancy a game, L.T?" You battered your eyelashes, biting your lower lip briefly. Or was that in Ghost's head?

"Pass." Ghost forced himself to grunt, heat blooming in his chest.

You pouted. "Aw, come on, Ghost—!"

"Pass." Ghost repeated, cutting you off with his deep baritone.

You closed your mouth, but still his grumpiness didn't deter you. You shrugged to yourself, turning back to Gaz with that signature smile of yours.

"Another round then, Garrick?"

"You're on."

A few days after that, Ghost was reaching his breaking point.

He was trying everything in his right mind to keep you away from him. To stop you from being such a goddamn angel, doting on his every doing. He wanted you to see who he really was, who he felt like he really was.

You were particularly happy this day. Seemingly bouncing around the barracks, the pure essence of you permeating the entire space— burning white, tooth-rotting sweetness, smelling of everything that Ghost loved. Loved about you. Fuck, he was mad.

You circled the room, hugging each of your comrades. You hugged Price like the father-figure he was. Short and sweet, but warm and comforting. You had your head to his chest, mumbling something that made Price smile, eyes squinting.

Then you hugged Soap. The bastard swept you off your feet, making you giggle. He said something to you that had you snorting out a bemused laugh, smacking him lightly on the chest when he put you down. He pat you gently on the head before you were sprinting to Gaz.

The way your face lit up made Ghost's heart clench.

You practically threw yourself into Gaz's arms, your arms around his shoulders as his circled your waist. He pressed you close— too close for Ghost's liking— rocking you gently as you thanked him. For what? What the hell were you thanking him for?

After what seemed like an eternity of Ghost burning daggers into you and the sergeant, you broke away, and began to approach Ghost. He froze in place, back to the kitchen counter. What were you doing? Approaching him looking so happy and perfect?

He acted out. On instinct.

You opened your arms, and he skulked away.

"Don't you dare," he grumbled, backing away. "I am not in the mood for whatever it is you're doing today, rookie."

Your smile faltered. A millisecond. "But, Ghost—?"

"Seriously, rookie," Ghost said sternly. "What's got you acting like this at eight in the morning?"

At that very moment, he felt his heart break into thousands of pieces.

Your smile dropped.

The glimmer in your eyes faded.

Without a word, you left the room, and Gaz hurried after you. Ghost followed your departing form with curious eyes. Then, he turned to Price and Soap, who were looking at him in dissapointment.

"What?" He gritted, jaw ticking.

"You're a fool, L.T. A real fool." Soap shook his head slowly.

Ghost huffed. "What d'you mean?"

"You're always acting like a complete dick to her," Soap continued. "Even on her birthday."

Ghost's heart leapt into his throat, stomach twisting, making him nauseous.

"Her... birthday?" Ghost tried not to let the waver in his voice sound through.

Soap nodded. "Yeah. S'why she's in such a good mood. Gaz got her something nice, I think—"

"What Soap's trying to say is that you, being a stubborn prick, has made her special day... not so special." Price added, digging a cigar and a lighter from his pocket. He left the room, heading outside, offering no more words, making Ghost's nervousness swell.

He turned to Soap, desperation clawing his insides. "What should I—?"

"Go and apologise, ya fuckhead." Soap beat him to it.

Wordlessly, Ghost left, hurrying towards your bedroom. When he got there, Gaz was just leaving, and the sergeant gave the lieutenant a stern look.

Ghost was almost breathless. "I need—"

"No, you don't, Ghost," Gaz said softly. "You've done enough."

"But—?"

"Seriously, Ghost, just leave," Gaz continued. "You're always so grumpy towards her, anyway. Just leave it."

He pushed past Ghost. Ghost stood outside your door, the urge to open it almost overwhelming. But he didn't. Hands in fists, nails digging into his palms, he walked away.

He needed to hit something.

•º•

You successfully avoided him for a week. He commended you internally for your ability to avoid him like the fucking plague. But, he hated it. He hated the way he made you feel, and he hated the way you were making him feel. His emotions were all over the place, and he desperately needed to get them in check.

So, he came to a conclusion.

He needed to apologise.

Well, he had been trying to. You weren't having any of it. He respected that.

But now, he was inching past his ability to remain respectful. Each time your smile faded when he entered the room; each time you ignored a simple favour or request of his; each time you wrapped yourself into Gaz's arms after a long, strenuous mission.

That sent him over the edge.

It was a stormy night, complete with heavy rain and the distant roll of thunder, when Ghost idled outside your bedroom door. He was a war-machine, a killer— but he was desperately working himself up to knock on your door. He was nervous.

So when he did finally knock, his heartrate was elevated.

You opened the door a crack, peering into the shadowed hallway. Ghost saw your eyes flicker across his body; how rich they were in emotion. He rushed forward and quickly jammed his foot in the door, noticing you begin to push it closed.

"What do you want?" You hissed, so devoid of your usual sunshine.

"Can... can I talk to you?"

A moment passed. Then, you opened the door, and let him inside.

Your room was exactly how Ghost had imagined it. Just like you. Warm, cozy, sweet-smelling. It was dripping in everything that was you. Ghost inhaled deeply, watching as you plonked yourself down on the edge of your bed, body illuminated by the soft golden light of your lamp.

You crossed your arms over your chest. "Well?"

Ghost just released it all. Everything he wanted to tell you, he did. He apologised profusely, again and again. He admitted to being a complete dickhead, and then apologised for that. He thanked you for putting up with him, for listening to him, for understanding him so well. And at the end of it all, he confessed.

"I'm in love with you."

You gaped at him.

"Always have been."

You were at a loss for words.

But Ghost wasn't. For the first time in a long time, he wasn't.

"I love you, rookie. I really do."

You blinked at him, then slowly got to your feet. He watched you, heart slamming against his ribcage, cheeks stinging hot beneath the fabric of his balaclava. He watched as you neared, lifting your hands to cup his face over the material.

"Prove it."

Ghost swallowed, throat dry all of a sudden. "What?"

"Prove how much you love me." You whispered, biting your lower lip.

This time, Ghost knew the action wasn't just in his head.

Because when he pressed closer to you, placing his gloved hands on your waist, he saw you release your bottom lip and curl your mouth into a smile. The smile he loved.

"I'm sorry, for everything." Ghost whispered as he backed you towards your bed.

"I know," you said, sitting on your bed and hooking your legs around his waist, pulling him down on top of you. "So show me."

Ghost couldn't help himself. Even with the mask still on, he slammed his mouth onto yours. He expected some kind of protest as he parted his lips, tongue pressing to the smooth fabric, heat and moisture smothering yours. But you didn't— you sighed outwardly, becoming pliant as you moved your own lips, revelling in the solid heat of his tongue against your own through the fabric.

He let out a low sound, a mix between a grunt and a whine, as he pressed himself closer to you. He was slowly getting frustrated by the material barrier as he kissed you. He pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to the lower part of his mask. It snapped, and made Ghost's breath hitch.

It's like you could read his mind as you looked into his eyes.

"You wanna take it off?" You asked, fingers at his neck, where the end of the balaclava sat snugly near the base. Your fingers squeezed gently, and he exhaled loudly.

He whined, hushed, from the back of his throat. "Yeah..."

"Yeah?" You grinned, gently rolling the mask upwards. It cleared his neck, then over his jaw, exposing his mouth and nose, before finally being ripped from his head entirely, leaving him exposed to you.

He usually would have felt nervous. Self-conscious, definitely. But not tonight. Not when, as a clap of thunder sounded outside, you moaned at the sight of him, and yanked his face back towards your own. It made his cock harden, painful in his cargos, as your mouths interlocked again. Your tongue swept into his first, and he let out another low noise, your fingers tugging at the roots of his hair.

Ghost shifted you both, making sure your head touched your pillows, resting comfortably. Still kissing, his hands explored down your body, skimming your sides, your thighs. Your hands tightened in his hair when one of his hands drifted inwards, brushing your upper inner thigh. He panted as you pulled him away from you, blond locks clutched in your fist. He looked down at you, eyes and lips just as glossy as each other, cheeks pink.

"You still want to apologise?" You asked, other hand drawing around his face and cupping his jaw.

He nodded, slightly, not doing much in your grip.

"Good," you hummed, pleased. "Get on the floor."

He did as he was told. Straight a-fucking-way. Now kneeling on the floor beside your bed, you sat on the edge. Slowly, ever so slowly, you pulled down your pyjama pants. Ghost watched you, completely rapt, as your fingers worked your underwear down your legs.

"Fucking hell..." He whispered as you kicked your underwear away.

You put your backside onto the edge of your bed, beckoning him closer. He shuffled further, and you placed your legs across his shoulders as his hands snaked up to grab at your thighs. Your core was bare to him under the golden lamplight, practically glistening. He withheld a moan as he leaned forward, attempting to put his mouth on you. But, you stopped him— clamping your thighs on either side of his head.

This time, he did let his moan out, high and breathy as he looked up at you through long, blond lashes, head encased between the plush of your thighs.

You looked down at him, tutting. "What do you want?"

He blinked at you, eyes narrowing slightly.

You flexed the muscles of your legs, tightening the weight of your thighs against his ears and cheeks. He grunted, closing his eyes.

"Well?" You prompted. "Tell me, Si."

Maybe it was the use of the nickname, of his real name. Maybe it was the heat of your flesh searing the sides of his head. Maybe it was the way his erection was growing impossibly hard inside his pants. Whatever it was made Ghost whimper. Fucking whimper.

Embarrassment, red hot, flared across his face.

"Want to taste you," he whispered, face burning. "Please."

"This is how you wanna apologise?" You teased, bringing a hand down to his head, massaging his scalp. "Wanna make me cum on your tongue?"

He tried his best to reply, groaning deep from his chest, hands kneading the flesh of your thighs. "Please, baby, please."

You chuckled, releasing the tension in your legs. "Only because you asked so nicely."

Ghost was elated. He practically surged forward, licking a fat stripe up your slit. You mewled, hands clinging to his hair, as he ran his tongue up and down your folds. He repeated his actions, before dragging his tongue downwards, circling your dripping hole. Nose nudging your clit, his tongue delved inside you, making you shudder.

He was in heaven. The small, breathy noises you were making; the way you gripped and pulled at his slightly grown-out hair; the taste of your arousal that was leaking out of you. His cock jumped with each stroke of his tongue, his own arousal building with each subtle sound he elicited from your pretty mouth. His large, gloved hands massaged your thighs, groping the soft flesh. He enjoyed the warmth near the sides of his head.

"Feels good, Si." You breathed, and Ghost's cock jumped again.

He groaned into you, vibrations sending your mind spiralling. Heat was building in the base of your tummy as his nose continually nudged against your swollen clit. Ghost was grunting and groaning quietly into your sopping cunt, lapping up every bit of arousal he could. Pearls of it slipped past his lips, rolling down his chin, iridescent in the light. He didn't care. Of course he didn't. He was fucking loving it.

You moaned again when Ghost quickly moved his tongue in a zig-zag motion up your slit, before sucking your clit into his mouth, front teeth grazing it gently. Your hips bucked, urging him closer.

"Si, oh my god— ha, fuck— feels so good," you keened, pleasure unfurling inside you. "Fuck, doing so good, Si. Such a good boy—"

Ghost short-circuited as you came in his mouth. He dipped his head to stuff his tongue back into your hole just in time, catching your release in his mouth. But your breathy words, good boy, echoed around his skull and made him whine, impossibly loud, into your cunt. He felt his stomach pang, balls tightening, before he fucking came in his pants, whispering your name into your fluttering hole.

His face grew hotter than it already was when he pulled away from you, dragging his right cheek across your inner thigh, light stubble tickling you. You breathed deeply above him, watching with hooded eyes as he placed a line of gentle kisses from your bikini line to your knee.

You massaged his scalp, and his eyes fluttered.

He was wondering if you noticed that he—

You released a breathy laugh, and his eyes snapped open, immediately finding yours. You tugged your legs away, planting them on the floor. Ghost continued to kneel in front of you.

"Aww, my poor baby," you muttered, and it would've been patronising if Ghost wasn't so whipped right now. "D'you cum already?"

He grit his teeth. "Don't—"

"S'okay, Si, it's okay," you smiled, patting his burning cheek. "I understand. I tasted that good, huh?"

You laughed again, another roll of thunder cracking outside. Ghost nodded, ashamed almost, but not regretful. He'd die a happy man if he could spend even another second in your wet cunt.

"Come on then," you said suddenly, scooting back onto your bed. "Since you're so desperate, right?"

He looked at you and then slowly got to his feet, legs trembling slightly.

You leaned against your pillow— looking like an absolute angel— spreading your legs as you wiggled your bra off, exposing your tits. Ghost's cock grew again, sticky with his own spend. You dragged your hands over your tits, tweaking your nipples while Ghost clambered onto the bed, kneeling between your legs. He was still fully dressed.

Not for long, clearly.

"Clothes." You said simply, and he obeyed.

Your hands dragged down your body, skirting across your stomach as Ghost pulled his gloves and shirt off, his trousers following. He huffed, pulling his underwear off and dumping them on the floor, ignoring the obvious that was splattered inside. Now bare, he kneeled back between your legs, a hand settling on one of your ankles, the other gripping the base of his cock.

Your hands dipped between your legs, and he let out a gravelly whine as you pushed two fingers into your wet cunt, the other hand moving a finger to your puffy clit. He was salivating.

"You know, I've liked you for a long time, Si," you said, voice a bit whiny. Ghost licked his lips. You continued, voice a whisper. "Mm... 's how I touched myself thinking about you."

You demonstrated perfectly; two fingers knuckle deep in your hole, another pressing tight circles to your clit. You mewled his name.

"Oh, fuck." Ghost whispered, hips and cock bucking into his fist. Just once. The look you gave him made him pause. All fucked out, blissful, in complete and utter control.

"Mhm, yeah— my grumpy lieutenant, always telling me what to do. Always so rough with me," you crooned as you fucked yourself with your fingers, Ghost's eyes burning into you as he lazily stroked himself. "S'just... that's not you, is it, Si? You don't wanna be rough with me, do you? You just wanna be my good boy, I know."

Ghost whined, releasing his cock and crawling up to you. He grabbed your hands, pulling them away from your cunt, much to your amusement.

"Fucking Christ, don't say that—" Ghost hissed as he brought your hand to his face, drawing your two fingers into his mouth and sucking your arousal clean off.

You smiled. "What? Considering you came in your boxers untouched, I'd say you like being called that."

Ghost groaned, fingers leaving his mouth with a wet pop. A string of saliva followed, and it broke when he chased past your hand, pressing his mouth to yours. You kissed, hot and heavy, for a minute, the rain hammering the roof outside. You moved a hand down, skating down his abs, before gripping his cock.

"Hah—" He breathed, gasping into your mouth as you pumped him, fingers wet with his saliva.

You kissed him still: sloppily, as you jerked him off. He barely responded, lips pliant against yours, eyes closed as the pleasure of your hand around his cock sent him into a daze. You licked into his mouth, his tongue struggling to meet yours, as you pumped him faster and faster until you could feel him twitching in your hand.

"Mmm... gonna..." Ghost murmured, drunk, against your mouth.

You pulled your hand away.

"Ah— fuck no," Ghost swallowed a frustrated moan, voice muted as you pushed his head away.

You licked your lips as you looked at him. He could've cum from that sight alone.

"You want to make it up to me, right?" You asked.

He nodded, cheeks red.

You leaned in close, pressing a kiss to the curve of his jaw. "Then fuck me."

Ghost's mouth dropped open in a short lived moan before you were kissing him. Kissing him so hard it made him dizzy; high off the sweet taste of you.

Meanwhile, he was clumsily aligning his cock with your wet cunt, his tip reddened and leaking pre, rolling in rivulets down the sides of his rigid cock. The head notched your entrance, and you released a shaky breath. He pulled out of the kiss.

"You... alright?" He asked, sounding more than a little breathless.

You nodded. "Mmmfuck, yeah."

"You sure?" He asked, the head of his cock sitting heavy at your entrance.

You looked him directly in the eyes, and he released a low sound, bending to kiss you again.

"Please," you said into the kiss. "Need you to fuck me, Si."

"Okay," he murmured, dragging his lips along your jaw. "Okay, okay, fuck, okay—"

He eased his cock into you as he mumbled incoherently, cursing. You were so wet, so warm, so fucking tight. He nipped at your neck, distracting himself so he didn't cum straight away because he did not need that kind of embarrassment haunting him for the rest of his life. Your arms curled around his broad shoulders, fingers flexing along the rigid plains of his muscles, tips brushing each smooth scar.

"That's it, Si, that's it," you told him, lips to the shell of his ear. "Feels good— so full."

He whimpered into your neck, face and body hot as his cock sunk further into you. His hips slapped to yours as he finally bottomed out, just as he moved himself out of your neck so that he could look down at you. As usual, you looked absolutely stunning; eyes glazed, kiss-bitten lips parted.

He couldn't help himself.

"You're beautiful," he said as he pulled his cock all the way out, before slamming back into you. "So beautiful... so pretty... such a pretty girl."

You hummed a moan past the smile spreading on your lips, Ghost finding a pace and rhythm as he bullied his cock into your wet heat over and over again, heavy balls slapping the curve of your arse as you were jolted against your mattress.

Ghost's hands were all over your body, as if he was committing it to memory. Running up and down your sides, groping along your tits, fingers dancing across your throat. Large hands moved to your thighs, massaging the plush flesh. Gently, he grasped the backs of your knees and slowly pushed your legs upwards, towards your chest. You smiled lazily at him as, still drilling his cock into you, he tucked your legs to your chest, pressing his body impossibly closer.

You tossed your head back, moaning loudly at the new angle. His warm hands on your legs, the heat of his hard body against yours, his fat cock stuffing you full. The sounds he was making. You were incased in pure ecstasy.

Ghost was a whimpering, whining mess above you. The big boy with the skull-face, so dangerous and imposing and deadly, reduced to such a sensitive, desperate being.

He was still whispering things under his breath, eyes periodically closing each time your cunt pulsed around him.

"S-such a pretty girl, my pretty girl," he uttered before a keening moan. "Hah—fuck— mmm—my god."

Already, you noticed the shift in his pace and thrusts; growing sloppier, yet he still nailed that spongey spot inside you that made you dig your nails harder into his back, stretching you tighter.

"Feels good, Si?" You prompted as he flopped his head back into the crook of your neck, hulking figure still pinning your legs to your chest, his hands heavy on your thighs.

"So good," he whispered into your neck. "So good, baby, fuck— 'm not gonna last."

You arched closer into him as the head of his cock kissed your womb. You could feel him in your stomach, and clearly, so could Ghost. He moved backwards, out of your neck, parting your bent legs. He could see the imprint of his cock deep inside you, a small bump in the soft mound of your tummy. He groaned deeply, pressing a hand to it. Then, you both moaned in unison, before he was snapping your legs back against your chest and spearing his cock inside you with newfound vigour.

"Gonna cum Si." You told him, pressing kisses along his face.

"Yeah?" He caught your lips, licking into your mouth for a second. "Yeah, come on then, baby, please."

A thick jumble of come on baby, come on's left his mouth, followed by almost pitiful please's.

You came around his cock as the rain hit the roof, a flash of lightening appearing behind the curtains of your window.

"Simon—!" You gasped.

Your sounds, your smell, your everything was making Ghost go fucking insane. Your cunt squeezed him as you came, your arousal amplifying and slicking each of his desperate movements. His cock sunk in and out of you with wet faps as he barrelled towards his orgasm.

"Hah... hah... fuck— m'gonna— hngh fuck— w-where do you want me?"

He was still so deep inside you. How could you say anything else but; "Inside, please, Si."

"Ah, t-thank fuck—" Ghost muttered, making you smile up at the ceiling, eyes blinking slowly.

His whole body was burning up as his orgasm crashed over him. He thrusted once, twice, getting as deep as he could, as he came inside you. He moaned, stifling it in your neck, rutting himself against you as you were filled with rope after rope of warmth.

"Good boy, Si, so good..." You murmured as he fucked his cum into you, broad figure shuddering as he caught his breath, your fingers raking down his back.

"Fucking hell..." He whispered.

His movements stopped, and the both of you took a moment to catch your breaths. You were still pressed tight to one another, his cock stuffed inside you, barely beginning to soften.

You ran your hands down his back as he released your legs, allowing you to flop them against your bed as he settled on top of you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling his nose along the curve of your shoulder and neck, nosing the junction of your jaw below your ear. He placed a kiss to the soft skin.

You both listened to the heavy rain loud against the roof.

"You alright?" You asked, running your fingers through his overgrown military-grade cut. I guess the mask meant he didn't have to get a haircut as often.

He hummed sleepily against you. "Yeah, love."

A beat passed, then; "You alright?"

You smiled. "I'm good. Really good."

He kissed the spot below your ear again. "Good."

Comfortable silence again. Ghost felt as though he was on cloud nine— curled up with you, satiated and happy, his cock still deep inside your cunt, which was now slowly overflowing with his cum, leaking onto the bed. He pressed his nose to the pulse-point near your ear. You smelled so good.

And to top it all off—

"I love you, Si."

He felt his heart explode.

He hugged you tighter. "I love you too."

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

would ghost ever do this "irl"? absolutely not. is this fictional and am i delusional? one hundred percent.

#captainfern #captainfernsalutes #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #fem reader #ghost x f!reader #cod ghost #ghost cod #ghost smut #ghost call of duty #cod smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #captain’smetallica

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mirohlayo · 4 months

Text

F1 DRIVERS TAKING CARE OF YOU

WHEN YOU'RE SICK

including mclaren, ferrari, mercedes + verstappen, ricciardo & gasly

warning : mention of medicine, pure fluff

note : been sick for almost 2 weeks now so i thought about this idea lol

!! english is not my first language !!

ᦈ OSCAR PIASTRI 81

his poor heart cries in pain seeing you so weak. he hates when you're sick because sickness take off your positive energy which he adores much. so he makes sure you're warm enough under triple blankets, double pillows under your head for extra comfort and some movies playing on the tv. call him and he'll be standing right next to you a second later, ready to help you with anything. ask for cuddles and he won't think twice before joining you in the bed and pecking your face. he still want you to takes your medicine even though you're recovered, just in case, just to be sure you won't get sick again.

ᦈ LANDO NORRIS 4

his poor baby is pin down on the bed, coughing and sneezing every single minutes. he hates it, he wants to see you smile again, he wants you to feel better. he would stay with you until you feel good, arms around your body as he let lazy and soft kisses everywhere on your face. especially your lips. you'll probably scold him because he'll get sick too but he doesn't care, he wants to take care of his baby, it's just his job. he reminds you to take your drugs and also makes sure you have everything you need, and if not then he'll bring it to you as quickly as possible.

ᦈ CHARLES LECLERC 16

as soon as he knows you're not feeling well, he would run to you in a hurry. he would also panic because it's not in your habit to get sick. he'll call his mom to get advices, he wants to do his best to take care of you and your poor state. try to act confident in front of you but internally stress because he doesn't really know what to do. still he manages to keep you in a good mood, he makes you laugh but you just end up coughing so he stress even more. but don't worry he'll be the sweetest, showing you with loads of kisses and cuddles because either him can't get enough of them.

ᦈ CARLOS SAINZ 55

now this guy would 100% know how to manage with his loved one being sick. like he just used to it and he perfectly knows what to do and what can make you feel better. he'll put you on the bed, and wrap you in a huge blanket. he even writes a schedule for your drugs with precise times. he'll cook the warmest meals and makes you tons of tea. sit next to you to keep an eye on you, sometimes you ask for kisses and he can't refuse them, pressing his soft lips on your forehead. you say that he's doing too much for you, overreacting the whole thing. but he would shrug and reply that he just wants the best treatment for you.

ᦈ LEWIS HAMILTON 55

he doesn't really like when you're sick because he can't get along with the picture of you being stuck in the bed, a tired expression endlessly on your face. but on the other hand i feel like he'd love playing the doctor. like he'll be so much caring, asking you every little minutes if you're feeling better or not. he won't rest until you're completely recovered. also would be the type to play some music, because he knows how much it comforts you. he'll put your favorite tv show and slide under the blankets and cuddle you until your body is warm enough. and also constantly rubbing your back or arms, just full of love for his lover.

ᦈ GEORGE RUSSEL 63

he has to deal with you being pretty sick and he doesn't wait a second to take care of you. maybe first will scold you because you don't wear enough warm clothing or you just don't pay enough attention to yourself. he doesn't like that, so he reminds you to always cover yourself with extra gloves and scarf. and then he feels bad seeing you in that state. he always feels panicked whenever you're coughing a bit too hard or sneezing nonstop. like a worried expression is stuck on his face. he would lay down on the bed next to you, mumbling some "my poor baby" and things like that. you'll tease him later about how much worried he looked for you but he doesn't care because it's just his way to show you how much he cares about you.

ᦈ MAX VERSTAPPEN 33

he's extremely caring and sweet with you. he becomes softer, acting super gently because he doesn't want to hurt you. stuck on your side like the world will stop if he's not keeping an eye on you. he would bring you to the doctor even if you just have a little fever, he's just so worried about you he doesn't want you to get sick. but manage incredibly well with it. he's the best because he does whatever you ask him to do. make you laugh ? he transforms into a comedian. not warm enough ? he joins you and cuddle you so close to his body. need some rest ? he'll take a nap with you in his arms, pressing kisses here and there until you're fully recovered.

ᦈ DANIEL RICCIARDO 3

at first he thought you were joking about your state. but when he came home and saw your tired body and face on the couch, he knew it wasn't funny at all. he feels so bad and he knows he has one job : take care of you as best as possible. but he knows one remedy that always works. his humor. whenever you're feeling off or sick, his humor always lifts up your mood. so while giving you your drugs, he'll talk about funny histories, or anything that can makes you laugh. and it works so well because despite the pain you're able to laugh. and he loves it. also pecking your whole face is one of the best medicine. but you can be sure he takes good care of you.

ᦈ PIERRE GASLY 10

know how to handle the situation. like he would transform into a doctor as soon as his eyes saw something was off with you. forces you to stay in the bed, a crazy amount of blankets over your body. you tell him it's fine but he doesn't listen and keep adding more warm stuff. he would gives you princess treatment, ask for anything and you'll got it. also makes you different types of tea with all the different flavors, and it'll just ends up in a tasting session. he would also never shut up about his science, explaining you how people get sick. but over all, he's happy to stay on your side and feeding you with lots of kisses

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #george russel x reader #max verstappen x reader #daniel riccardo x reader #pierre gasly x reader

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ukeyyyo · 4 months

Text

Some headcanons with Bi-Han (relationships)

A/N: This is my first time writing something like this.I was just bored at night, so don’t judge me, please 🫠

- He’s cold at first, it’s quite hard to earn his respect and love. It will for sure take you lots of time.

- But once he will realize your feelings…He will still doubt it. This feeling is kinda forbidden for him, so he won’t really know how to deal with it.

- That’s why he may start avoiding you, sometimes even be mad for you for no reason. Maybe for making him feel weak and vulnerable.

- To be honest, I can’t even imagine how he would confess his feelings. It’s really hard to think about that lol.

- But i think that it could happen this way : he would be annoyed (either for this feelings or someone might have tried to flirt with you and he was really jealous or both) and then when you two were alone he confessed his feelings out of anger lol.

- When you wanted to hear it again because you didn’t really believe it, he would probably say something like “what you heard.“

- I’m not sure if he would spend time on talking about all of this, since his clan and his duty are always the top priority for him.

- So I think that you two would only talk about it when you have a training or when you’re on a mission.

- Since he’s not familiar with all of these things, surely everything will go really slow. you have to be patient, really.

- But i’m sure that your patience will be worthy of it.

- Since he’s also traditional, first he will make sure to analyze your relationships and then think if you two could be a couple and if you’re worthy of being his consort.

- When he’s confident about his decision, he will propose to you. but not in a romantic way. You know how men in series randomly propose to their s/o, like “We should get married”?. So it would be like that, I guess. he would say something like “I’ve been thinking our relationship over.And I have made a decision that we should get married. Our clan needs an heir so I need a wife.”

- It wouldn’t have sounded good if you didn’t love him, but since you love him you’ll for sure accept it.

- Your wedding ceremony would be really traditional. And beautiful too.

- You know, I have another cute headcanon. Imagine they had maids in their palace and one of them was an old lady, who worked here before his mother died and their mother also loved this maid, because when Bi-Han’s parents just got married this old lady would always treat Bi-Han’s mother nicely and give advices. Plus, she also helped her to take care of her kids. So when Bi-Han’s mother got married she wore a kua headset. It was really beautiful and it was carefully stored. So the old lady offered Bi-Han to give it to you as a special gift.

- Bi-Han wasn’t sure if it was right at first, because it was his mothers and he thought that it should be kept where it was.However, then he thought that maybe his mother would be happy if her daughter-in-law wore her headset for such a special day.So after that he went to the room where you were preparing for the ceremony.And then he gifted this gorgeous headset to you: “This is my late mother’s headset that she wore for her wedding.The old lady offered me to give it to you.I think you should wear it.” And you would be like “Are you sure, Bi-Han?”. He would nod meaning that he agrees and you would be really happy: “Thanks, I will cherish it. It really is a special gift.”

- When you wore it…Bi-Han would for a second see his mother in you. His parents had a portrait from their wedding but it was put in a dusty box…Honestly if he wasn’t capable of holding and controlling his feelings, I think he would actually cry.

- I’m 100% sure that Bi-Han is mama’s boy. He had a special bond with his mother :(

#bi han x reader #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #bi han #bi han sub zero #bi han x you #bi han imagine #bi han x y/n

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ef-1 · 6 months

Text

Transcribed Excerpts from Christian Horner's hour long Interview that are batshit insane and so narratively dense you'd think they're lifted wholesale from a book, featuring:

The most in depth, behind the scenes view of what transpired in 2018

Fords CEO getting in touch with Dax to gush about how much he likes Daniel

Christian feeling vindictive towards Daniel

Christian comparing Sebastian and Max

Christian comparing Daniel to Roger Federer

How Christian had to mitigate Helmut's shitshow and personally asking Dietrich to give Daniel everything he wanted

Hilarious rapid fire in the end and his perspective on the failure of Ferrari

●●● <- indicates a time skip

Dax: In tennis you see guys when they lose steam, they break apart.

Christian Horner : you see that with checo.

●●●

[Dax mentions that in Christian's position, a lot of people would not have invited Daniel back into the family. "Because Daniel turned his back on the family." ]

Christian: Daniel's a great guy. Very badly advised in his early career. Everybody fucks up at some point. I think he recognizes that he made a mistake. He didn't have good advice around him at the point he left us. Having spent time outside the family he realized what he had here was actually good. It was horrible to see that it got worse and worse after us. It was actually this time last year in Mexico where I sat down with him in my hotel room, I told him you need a complete reset- take a year out. Come back to us.

Dax: He's such a win for you guys.

Christian: Totally.

Dax: you sent Daniel to Jim Farley [ CEO of Ford] and I know Jim Farley and he got in touch with me and told me "That Daniel Ricciardo guy is the greatest!" I'm like to him: he's the dream, send him anywhere.

●●●

Christian: He's [Daniel] a confidence driver, when he's got his mojo, he one of the fastest guys on the grid.

Dax: he's lethal.

Christian: yep.

Dax: he's got that magic thing that people either have or don't have in my opinion which is: there are winners and there are not winners

[you're not ready for this lol]

Christian: He came to us, he's one of our juniors, I remember going to watch him in formula 3, he really stood out. Very smooth. Just great. Naturally. Like a Roger Federer kind of style behind the wheel, very very classic. Light touch. Great, great skill. And then he came through the system [RB program] when we had Sebastian Vettel, 4 time world champion- Mark Webber retired. We chose Daniel as the Junior, with no expectation on him and he started beating Vettels ass. he won 3 races in 2014 when we had FAR from the best engine, Sebastian never won a race that year.

Dax: Even his time at Mclaren, it sucked for him but he's the only one who won a race.

Christian: He IS the only one who won a race.

Dax: and for a long time now.

Christian: and Renault he had great performances. [...] he's got to feel the love. He's got to feel comfortable in the environment that he's in. Some of his races for us were- absolutely outstanding.

●●●

[Christian about the 2018 negotiations]

Christian: I asked Dietrich to show Daniel love. Helmut was obviously pro Max, I said if you could just balance things out, let him [Daniel] know you want him. Dietrich said "no problem, I'll talk to him" so he took Daniel upstairs after the race in Austria to talk to him, and they were there for well over an hour.

Dax: To the point you were nervous?

Christian: I thought SHIT! But they reappear, and they're both smiling, I tell him: "Dietrich, how did it go?" He says,"No problem, don't worry about it. It's not even a question [that daniel would leave]"

Christian: Then we went to Germany, and his engine blew up. His engine kept letting him down, letting him down, letting him down. But from there, we went to Hungary, and we got his paperwork [Daniel's contract] for a TWO year deal all sorted out. Daniel's manager came to me and said 'listen Daniel is nervous about the engine' because we were going to switch to Honda so his manager said: 'he'll do ONE year' I thought wow. That's not really what we talked about, because in 6 months we'll be having the same conversation. So I remember I went back to Dietrich, and I said, "it's about relationships. It's NOT about contracts. If he wants a one year contract, give him a one year contract," so at this point: he's got everything he wants. Also, at that point, Daniel was doing a test for us after the Hungarian race, I thought Daniel will sign the paperwork on Monday, suddenly Monday goes and he's in the car on Tuesday. I'm starting to smell something because this is an enormous deal, you'd have thought he'd be in a rush to sign this contract. And he didn't sign the contract before he got in the car in the morning and I thought he'd sign by lunchtime but it didn't happen. He had to get out of the car and go straight to the airport because he's flying from here to LA and I thought he'll call me. I'm feeling something at this point.

Dax: you know you're about to be broken up with.

Christian: yeah.

Dax: if your girlfriend didn't show up to lunch then dinner-

Christian: exactly. So- he [daniel] rings me, I was in the car with Geri, he tells me "I just got off the plane, I arrived in LA, and I've been thinking on the flight, all the way here- I'm not going to sign the contract. I'm going to take another contract. [...] he tells me Renault? The engine that let him down for 2 years? I was convinced, I was CONVINCED- because Daniel has got a sense of humour- I thought- he's taking the piss. I thought come on. I told him: come on. There is no way. You're not going to Renault, stop fucking about, just sign the contract. After 10 minutes he finally persuaded me that he was going to Renault. It was disappointing.

Dax: I wanna applaude you, because a lot of people who go through that experience think: fuck you.

Christian: there was an element of that. I thought: go and suck on a lemon for a bit. But actually during the pandemic, I remember he called me and said "Christian I hate to say this to you but you were right"

•••

Christian thinks Max > Vettel

Christian about Alex and Pierre being teammates with Max: he broke them

[Very confused in this part because Christian like? Says the best thing for Checo to perform is to forget about Max, stop trying to compete with him, stop looking at his data? Girl you are NOT selling it rn]

•••

When Christian is asked to analyse Red Bull's champions, he thinks Sebastian and Max are diametrically opposed . Sebastian is your stereotypical German, he would be at the track until 11 to analyse data. Max is not interested in all the detail [devasting news for all the bitches who spent years trying to dunk on Daniel by calling him not technical, Christian seems to think that Daniel and Max share a natural ability that doesn't rely on data.] He [Max] Gives you just what he needs to go faster. Max hates testing, has no interest in it.

●●●

Christian confirms he has a lucky toilet.

●●●

Christian says in 2014-18 Red Bull came this 🤏 close to selling to Audi.

●●●

Christian: Drive to Survive is the Kardashians on wheel

●●●

Christian: You get characters like Gunther Steiner. How scary is he. He used to work for us, I had to be the one to fire him.

●●●

Christian on why he believes Ferrari have failed over the last 15 years: Ferrari is a national institution instead of a Team. It needs to become a racing team again. Too many people have input at the top.

#it like. reads like fanfic #this team is so fucked up none of this can be healthy #what makes him tick #its all very insane. Machiavellian!Christian... be very afraid.#i wish Christian didnt speak about seb like that. just be more respectful. he clearly has his favourites #f1 #daniel ricciardo #Christian horner #brazilian gp 2023

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aphroditelovesu · 3 months

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Yandere Satoru Gojo Headcanons (General)

"I will take care of you." — Satoru Gojo.

❝ ㊙ — lady l: lol, this turned out longer than I originally thought, but I love him so screw it! He has a complex personality, so it was more complicated trying to describe him as a yandere, but I did the best I could. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes!! 🩵💜

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, mention of stalking (mild), death and murder.

❝㊙pairing: yandere!satoru gojo x gender neutral!reader.

You probably wouldn't even realize that he was obsessed with you, that the infamous sorcerer of the Gojo Clan, was dominated by you, because he doesn't want you to know unless he wants you to. For a while, he'll be content to just watch you from afar.

Satoru is completely aware that his thoughts, his feelings are distorted, but he doesn't care, not when he was already very involved in you. You had taken over his entire life and thoughts and he wasn't bothered by it, not anymore.

At first, Satoru hated this, hated you and these thoughts that crossed his mind about you. They were ridiculous, you were ridiculous and he was even more so for thinking of you that way. After all, what was so special about you? Yes, you were attractive but it wasn't just your beauty that attracted him, there was something more. Something he didn't know how to define.

But he stopped hating you and focused on you, on his thoughts about you. Maybe they were wrong, but Gojo quickly learned to deal with them. Push them to the back of his mind and focus on his goals. And that goal, the main one at least, was you.

Satoru isn't very good at expressing how he feels about you directly, so he preferred to show his affection in a more distant way, with some gifts and letters that could seem like threats, depending on how you read them.

He is complex and acts indifferent to many and you are not the exception. He is courteous to you, but always keeps his distance, making it impossible for you to find out about his darkest thoughts. He plays with you and has fun, but always being a little obnoxious. Maybe if you looked closer, you'd notice the clenched fists and slightly pursed lips. The anguish that surrounded him when you were around.

Satoru is extremely confident in his abilities and is sure that he can win you over if he so desires. And he wants you, but he doesn't want to admit that he needs you. He doesn't like to appear weak, because he's not weak, but you make him vulnerable and he hates that.

He is apathetic towards those who are weak and if you are a person considered weak in his eyes, this will make him stressed. Not only was he attracted to you, more than that, but to a weak person? How could something like this happen? But for you, and only you, Satoru will help you become stronger, for his benefit and yours.

Satoru is possessive and will not hesitate to destroy anyone who dares to get closer to him. You are his, maybe you don't know it yet, but you belong to him. He is aggressive and will attack without remorse, prioritizing the complete destruction of the one who angered him. There will be no remorse on his face once he is done but pure satisfaction.

Ever the cunning strategist, Satoru decided it was time to act. He began to approach you in subtle ways, taking opportunities to offer hidden advice or compliments. The letters and ambiguous gifts continued to arrive, but now you began to realize that there was more behind these gestures than you initially imagined.

Little by little, Satoru broke down his own barriers and began to show a kinder, more caring side. He offered his guidance in training and missions, always masking his intentions under the appearance of a concerned mentor. You, in turn, began to notice the duality in his personality: the cold, distant professor and the man who, somehow, seemed genuinely interested in you.

But he acted more playfully with you, loosening up in a way, disguising his feelings in any way he could.

Gojo spoils you deeply, he has a lot of money and wouldn't mind spending it on you. But he has rules and will be stingy if you disobey him and will probably punish you with deprivation.

He is cold and doesn't mind sacrificing those for what he believes in and he will sacrifice anyone for you. Satoru will have no qualms about killing anyone he believes to be a potential threat to his ideals. Blood-stained hands won't make any difference to him.

Satoru Gojo is complex and difficult to understand, but his obsession with you makes him even more complicated. His feelings are masked and will only be shown if he wants to and once he has you to himself, there is no way he will let you out.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #yandere headcanons #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #yandere gojo satoru #yandere satoru gojo #yandere satoru gojo x reader #yandere satoru gojo headcanons #yandere gojo satoru x reader #headcanons

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