#i think i managed to write a post that would piss anyone off | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

milaisreading · 1 year

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I just found your account when you started posting the blue lock managers posts and I instantly followed and turn notifications on-

I was debating on requesting something but was nervous ehe😅

But if possible can you write something about manager having a like a obsessive fan of some sort that is always trying to get into the blue lock facility somehow to see her? I just wanna know what the bllk/u-20/egoist will do/react to that- especially the possessive(imo) ones(rin/sae/barou/Kaiser/ness etc) I feel like they will be very overprotective and threaten the person ngl-

Sorry if it doesn’t make sense- It made more sense in my brain but ya🤣 can’t ignore if too complicated!

Author: I like the idea and idk if I will be doing more parts to this, I will leave it up to you all, but I will go for now wit the characters you suggested. Thanks for the request🩷

Warnings ⚠️: Reader uses she/her. Mentions of blood and stalking. Requests are open

⚽️Blue lock belongs to:Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

'BATHROOM!' (Y/n) yelled in her head as she ran down the hallway. The whole morning she was trying to find an excuse to leave the training ground, but was stopped either by one of the coaches or by one of the boys who were making the most random requests. Now she found an escape in the form of Shion pissing Rin off, and while everyone was busy watching them, she escaped the room. Before she opened the bathroom door though, (Y/n) felt some weird shivers go down her spine and she looked around the place.

'Is someone... watching me? No, nobody is here. I think I just lack sleep.' She shook her head and walked inside.

'She looks even prettier in real life than on TV.' A figure thought as they watched (Y/n) from behind the corner of the hallway.

'It took me so long to finally get to her, and now she is finally within my reach. Thank God they didn't control who are the real staff members and who the fake ones are.' The boy giggled as he observed the bathroom door.

'She will finally be mine!'

The boy smiled as he noticed the door open and he quickly ran over to the door.

"Finally." The girl sighed, ready to return to her duties when a unfamiliar voice called out for her.

"(Y/n)~"

"Ha?" The girl turned around quickly, only to come face to face with a staff member she never met.

"Wh...who are you?" (Y/n) gulped, noticing the crazy look in his eyes.

"I am your biggest fan~ I came here to rescue you from this place. Full of filth and people who don't deserve your presence." The boy giggled as (Y/n) grew nauseous, noticing she has really no way to escape him.

'What now?!'

"I-I seriously don't know who you are. Please leave this place, I promise I won't tell anyone about this-"

"No! You don't understand!" The boy yelled, growing angry at her protests and grabbed her shoulders.

"Do you not see how this isn't for you?! You shouldn't be fulfilling wishes of these germs! I know what's best for you and your best is to be with me!"

"I don't even know you!" (Y/n) yelled, flinching as his grip tightened.

"That's ok... we have all the time in the world to get to know each other-"

"What the fuck?!" A new voice appeared and (Y/n) felt the soul leave her body as she looked at the figure in front of them.

Rin:

'R-Rin...' (Y/n) thought as she looked at the teal-eyed boy, who looked ready to murder the boy holding (Y/n).

"The hell are you doing with my manager, lukewarm?! Let her go!" Rin ordered as he walked closer to the boy.

"Is this really who you want to stay with? You would be treated way better if you were with me." The boy said as he looked at the horrified girl. Somethings snapped in Rin as he heard those words.

'Some... some nobody thinks he can take (Y/n) away from me? And treat her better?'

Rage bubbled up inside of him and he punched the guy in the face, causing him to let go of (Y/n) and fall to the ground.

Using this opportunity, (Y/n) ran behind Rin.

"What us going on here?!"

"What's with the loud noises?" Two other staff members ran over and looked at the trio, horrified at the scene.

"Take this asshole away from here before I do it myself. He tried to kidnap (Y/n)." Rin said in a threatening manner and took the boy away.

Once gone, Rin seemed to have calmed down a little and turned to look at (Y/n), who was still in shock.

'That asshole... should have punched him harder. But now I have to focus on her.'

"Come on, let's calm you down first." Rin said, picking the girl up and walking towards the medic room.

"B-but your training-"

"It can wait. Just relax, it's only me here. Nothing will happen to you." Rin said in a softer tone as (Y/n) nodded her head, easing up a little bit.

"Thank you, Rin." She said softly, laying her head on his shoulder. The boy sighed and looked at the path in front of himself.

'I will protect you... no matter what. A nobody will not take you from me.'

Sae:

Now Sae was always a calm person and tried not to lose his temper in front of (Y/n) of all people, to show her he was mature and thought with his brain. But something just snapped in him and the rational part flew out the window when he saw a literal nobody grabbing onto the girl and scaring her to the point where she started crying. The older Itoshi lost every piece of self control at the proclamation the guy made and in a matter of seconds he was on the ground, passed out as Sae stood over him with a bloody knuckle. Sae seemed to have not noticed how strong his one swing was, strong enough to break some of his skin off.

"What the..." one of the security guards muttered as he looked between the three.

"He... uh... he..." (Y/n) stuttered, still in a daze from the previous events, but the guard seemed to have understood what had happened.

Once the guy was carried away, Sae seemed to have calmed down a little.

'He dared to touch her...that nobody touched her... I will kill him.' Sae's eyes narrowed as he tried to walk after them, but was stopped by (Y/n).

"S-Sae... your hand is... we need to treat it."

The boy looked at (Y/n), his eyes softening as he saw her worried look.

"It's nothing, it doesn't even hurt. It would have hurt more if that maniac had hurt you." Sae shook it off.

"Still, come on it will get infected. We can't gave you returning to Spain with wounds from a fight." (Y/n) tried to joke, but Sae didn't like it.

'It was for your safety.'

The older Itoshi put a hand on her head and gave her a small smile.

"I don't mind, as long as it's for you, these wounds don't hurt."

"Sae..." (Y/n)'s eyes widened at those words.

Shidou:

Bow Shidou was known for a lot of things, a great football player, aggressive when playing, questionable behavior at times and also for being very protective of the ones he holds close to his heart. So it came to no surprise to anyone when he stomped over to where (Y/n) and the unknown guy were, grabbed him by his collar and threw him away.

'It looked like he did it with 0 effort too.' (Y/n) thought with wide eyes as Shidou stood in front of her, shielding her form from the guy.

"It seems like some bottomfeeder forgot his place here. Who are you to come here and touch (Y/n) like that? Trash like you can just watch her from a distance."

Shidou said, his grin making his whole presence even more ominous than it already was.

"Who I am? I am the only one of you freaks who will know how to treat my (Y/n) right, you all don't even deserve her." The boy argued back.

"My (Y/n)? You seem to want those teeth knocked out, huh?" Shidou grinned wider, scaring the boy as he cracked his knuckles.

"Shidou... just call a guard... please." The blonde stopped in his tracks and looked over at (Y/n), his eyes widening when he noticed the tears running down her face.

'I will kill him one day. He deserves the worst pain.'

"Alright." Shidou said, picking the boy up by his collar.

"You are lucky she is here now... but don't worry, you will meet my fists very soon." Shidou whispered to the boy, who looked ready to throw up.

Kaiser:

For Kaiser the highlight of visiting Japan is pissing Isagi off and take (Y/n) away from the group to spend some alone time with her. During that time he would try to get her to come back to Germany with him, and so far it didn't really work. With that being said l, Kaiser had always his eyes on (Y/n)'sform, at any time. So when he noticed her leave, Kaiser decided to wait it out for a few minutes and then went to look for (Y/n), and he sure regretted waiting for so long after the scene he witnessed.

"I will teach you a lesson on touching my girl. You little piece of shit." Kaiser whispered as he punched the guy for the 3rd time, a wide smile on his face when he noticed the blood running down his face.

'I will kill him! I will kill him-'

"K-kaiser! Please stop... you will get hurt."

The boy looked away from the passed out one and looked at (Y/n). The worried and horrified look on her seemed to call him down and he sighed, getting up and walking to her.

"But I need to teach him a lesson. Didn't he scare you and touch you?" Kaiser questioned, trying to keep his cool as he remembered the scene.

"H-he did... but it's not worth to hurt yourself because of it. I already called a security guard. Come on, I need to clean up your hand." The boy seemed to have had an epiphany and he pulled the girl into a hug.

'Mine.' Be thought as his grip tightened on her.

Ness:

Now Ness was generally a calm guy, unless you insulted (Y/n) or Kaiser, then he will go full on mental. And while he kept that side hidden from (Y/n), he just couldn't do it now. Because when Ness saw the creep touching her and causing her distress, he was ready to commit murder.

'That bastard.' Ness smiled tightly and walk up to the duo.

"What... what do you want, freak?" The guy questioned, but got no answer in return. Instead, Ness grabbed the man's jacket and pulled him away.

"I will be back in a minute." The magenta-eyed boy said to (Y/n), who said nothing in return.

"What is it? Just say something, pig?" The boy said glaring up at Ness, who laughed and moved closer to the boy.

"Listen up, you piece of trash. Just because I am calm now doesn't mean that's how I feel. If I ever see your ugly self near my angel, I will make sure not even your own family will recognize you, once they find your body. (Y/n) is off limits for everyone, especially you." Ness whispered into the boy's ear and then moved away, satisfied with the pale look he caused him.

"Now, scram." Ness said in a low tone as his smile turned into a frown.

"Are you alright? He didn't hurt you?" Ness asked once he got back to (Y/n). The girl shook her head and wiped some of the tears away.

"No, I am fine. What about you?"

"I am alright, don't worry about me. Now, let's get you out to calm down a little. I know just the spot for it." Ness smiled and pulled (Y/n) along.

"Thank you, Ness." The girl said as the boy shook his head.

"It was nothing."

#blue lock anime #bllk x reader #blue lock manga #bllk #blue lock requests #rin itoshi #rin itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #sae itoshi x reader #blue lock shidou #shidou ryuusei x reader #michael kaiser x reader #michael kaiser #alexis ness #alexis ness x reader #manager reader #blue lock x reader

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 4 months

Text

A Promise Woven in Silk

18/12: Letters & Lingerie Kink - Tom Bennett Word Count: 2.1k~ | Warnings: suggestive letters, masturbation (m), p in v sex A/N: thanks to @ewanmitchellcrumbs for checking my Tom Bennett was cunty enough 🤭

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

Tom couldn't wait to be off this fucking boat.

It was a sort of slum in motion, but with the threat of being killed or drowned.

He made his own fun, practically forcing people's hands into betting on the day his canary laid an egg, pissing off the commanding officer and choosing rather colourful language when he was speaking to people of a higher rank than him. Not like he gave a shit.

But he only did those things because he was Tom.

It didn't make him really happy.

The only thing that managed to pull a smile to his face were letters with her handwriting on the front.

It felt wrong to call her a sweetheart so to speak. After all, at first there was no expectation of anything deeper, not wanting to get involved in something so trivial before he decided to disappear abroad. But it was exactly that expectation that drew him to her.

She wasn't desperate and needy. And yes, he'd tease her for it, but she was so fiercely independent, she turned her nose up at how a woman should conventionally act towards someone she liked.

He loved her for that.

He leapt onto the top bunk, checking the room was clear before pulling the sealed letter from his pocket, the paper slightly crumpled with her swirly feminine handwriting decorating the front.

Dearest Tom,

I hope you are settling into navy life well and are not causing too much trouble for the people who have the displeasure of being around you all day and night.

He smirked. She knew him too well.

As I write this, my stomach flutters at the thought of your upcoming shore leave. I have been entirely too impatient to not tell you that I have concealed a great secret from you, one I should hope you will be pleased to uncover upon your return to me.

Picture me, with delicate lace trimming framing the curves of my body, meant for your eyes only of course. The fabric, as smooth as a moonlit ocean, holds promises of stolen moments where you are once again by my side.

I must confess, once you are back I scarcely think I could ever let you go again. The mere thought of you being here with me has a pleasant, exciting effect on my inhibitions. An effect, I dare say, you are keen to replicate.

I anticipate the shared warmth of our reunion, one I have no doubt you have sorely missed.

Yours in fervent longing…

He swore his mouth was agape, before a sly grin slipped onto his face.

Jesus Christ.

Tom's baby blues flitted over her handwriting, as if needing to commit the words to memory over and over to make certain he was reading the same thing.

His fingers gripped the delicate paper noticeably tighter as his mouth went dry.

Cheeky fucking minx.

Completely naturally, he brought the paper to his face, sighing longingly at the familiar scent of her perfume. She'd no doubt spritzed it a few times before sealing it, intent on torturing him even further as if the words alone had not done so.

Her scent flooded his mind, making way in his brain and pushing all the blood there south, his manhood pulsing almost uncomfortably at the memory of her.

The way he'd left her lingered there.

She had his white shirt around her shoulders and completely nothing else, her breasts peeking teasingly against the thin fabric as if to tempt him to stay when she knew he couldn't.

He'd almost jumped right back on her when she rose to her knees and plucked the post-coital cigarette from his lips to have a sweet, shallow drag of her own, her eyes aglimmer with mischief and sparkled with lust.

And he's not ashamed to say that the image of her lips around the cigarette had him wishing they were around him instead. Looking up at him through her eyelashes, massaging the length that would not fit in her perfect mouth.

And so here, miles and miles from her, but unable to think of anyone or anything but her, he slipped his hand into his trousers, keeping her letter close to his face and pumped himself needily, imagining it was her grinding her hips atop him, her moist lips parted with those sounds he loved so much slipping forth.

He spilled himself over his knuckles in no time with a choked moan that he had to keep quiet.

It was sweet, sweet torture.

“Cheeky. Fucking. Minx.”

Tom practically skipped through off the train onto the platform, resisting the urge to break into a run as he played the route to her flat in his mind and how to get there the fastest.

It felt like he'd had a perpetual need for her ever since he read her words, which was more akin to pornography than an innocent love letter, having the desired effect of keeping him rock hard, fists clenched and jaw tightened.

God, she'd pay for that.

His boots thumped as he made his way up the back stairs to her flat, fists rapping on the door rapidly and excitedly, his chest feeling all tight and fluttery.

Every second there was no answer, his leg bobbed with anticipation.

Tom's tongue poked his cheek as the door slowly cracked open, a smile working its way to his face.

Her hair was waved over her shoulders, a satin dressing gown around her and tied at the middle, accentuating her waist, with her legs all bare and poking tantalisingly out beneath the rich fabric.

She herself gave a smirk, pulling the cigarette from her lips with two of her manicured fingers.

“Hello, sailor.”

Fuck, her voice.

She squeaked in surprise as Tom's tall form had to twist to force his way in, his bag forgotten to the floor with a thud, finding better purchase on her body as he surged down to meet her lips halfway. She smelled and tasted just as he remembered.

Bodies touching and smirking between fervent kisses, he mumbles between them, “Hello, beautiful.”

Heat rose to her cheeks, and equally sank to that spot between her thighs that grew moist, aided by the endless weeks without his presence.

“I can't believe you sent me such racy letters. You just want to get me in trouble, don't you... and believe me you're doing a fantastic job at it.”

She hummed, pulling away to look up at him, smirking as he plucked the cigarette from her to take a drag for himself.

“You've got to have something to look forward to on shore leave, Bennett.”

He grinned with all his perfect teeth, stubbing it out once he was done with it and running his tongue over his lips.

She scrunched her nose, her hands around his shoulders as she craned up to meet his misty gaze, “in any case, I don't know what you mean. My letters were perfectly well-meaning and innocent.”

He scoffed, the smoke leaving between his pink lips, blonde eyebrows raised, “innocent? Those letters could be classified as a war crime.”

Her lips part involuntarily, warmth gathering in her gut as his hands lay flat either side of her waist.

"Now, where's my promised prize? To celebrate my return.”

She bit back a grin, her hands sliding down his chest to the tie at her front, fingers pulling it loosely unbearably slowly.

Tom swore he ascended to heaven once the silk parted to reveal what she'd promised beneath, a delicate lacy number that seemed to drift over every curve and left very little to the imagination.

“Now that's what I call a greeting and my reward.”

His hands assisted in pushing the silk off her shoulders, leaving her standing in her silk sleepwear, the front dipping right where the shadow of her breasts appeared.

He grinned like a schoolboy, raking in every piece of her he'd been unable to see for weeks. God, maybe even months.

“You know, I almost thought you were lying in your letter and you didn't actually have this... but you surprised me.”

Her eyelashes fluttered as they both leaned in, dragging his nose over her cheekbone and placing several kisses, too chaste for his nature, along her jawline.

“I couldn't possibly do that to you, Tom.”

She giggled girlishly as his hands were now unable to stop their journey around her body, squeezing and moulding the flesh to his palm as he guided her to her bed. He stood, looking down as she lay there waiting for him with that honey-like gaze, biting her lip when she saw him work on his own clothes.

Once he got to his belt, she lifted her hands to the straps of her brassiere, to pull them down, until Tom tutted at her, kneeing her legs apart in reprimand, earning a confused expression.

He loved it when she looked all dumb like that.

He smirked, “Maybe I want you to keep it on. You look good in it.”

At this she lowered her hands, eyes glimmering with mischief as she watched him struggle with his belt.

She smiled smugly, “have you gone soft on me, Tom Bennett?”

“Soft is the opposite of what I am right now, love.”

A soft giggle slides past her lips as Tom looms above her, shoving his trousers past his hips as they snag on nothing, his eyes hardening the more frustrated he gets. But it quickly dissipates, core clenching around nothing once he pulls himself from his underwear, hardly having to stroke himself to full attention.

His fingers creep along the side of her thigh beneath the delicate lace, swiping the pads of his fingers against her, grinning widely when he finds his words and actions have had the desired effect, her hips twitching upwards at his touch.

“Oh, love. You’re fucking soaked for me.”

His ministrations become rough almost instantly, tugging the silk to the side and running the fat head of his cock, red and weeping against her womanhood. She watches the way his chest inflates and deflates with heavy breathing, at how the dog tag there glimmering in the low light around his neck, looking down between them, the air feeling hot and only the sounds of pure carnal desire rumbling in their throats.

“Tom - please -”, she mewled longingly, trying to move her hips to gain friction as he teases her bud with the tip of his length.

A dark chuckle rumbles in his chest, “God I fucking love it when you beg. What do you think, should I make you do it again?”

She shakes her head quickly, closing her eyes and turning away with a warm face at the intensity of his gaze down at her.

He huffs another laugh and lays atop her, pushing her leg apart with his knee and pressing a kiss to her temple, “It’s alright, love, too fucking impatient for that.”

Her mouth falls open, warmth flooding her as he pushes into her agonisingly slowly, splitting her apart on his length to slide into her slick walls. Tom can’t help but screw his eyes shut, burying his face in her neck and inhaling her perfume as her warmth squeezes him and her fingernails leave crescent-moon shaped marks on his back.

He barely waits to reach the end of her before he moves, his hips meeting hers softly at first, but increasing in vigour once he hears her tiny little whimpers, and the way she presses her lips together to try and be quiet.

Ever stubborn.

Skin meets skin with quiet smacks, neither needing to say anything (except for the occasional ‘fuck’ encompassed by a low moan from Tom) but just basking in this closeness they’d been deprived of in all the time they’d been away. He is sure he could stay between her legs all fucking day, squeezing the flesh of her thighs and tasting her lips on his.

“Fuck - ‘m gonna-”, he moans lowly, his hand running up the nape of her neck and pulling the strands of her hair through his fingers, not enough to hurt. Her core tightens around him, head thrown back into the mattress, lips parted.

“oh - fuck, yes-”

With a choked moan, he takes her over the edge with him, holding her so tightly that had he been in his right mind, he’d think he was hurting her. But she doesn’t protest. She only loosens her grip on him when his thrusts falter to a stop, but his length remains tucked inside her, shuddering when he feels her core clenching around him in the aftermath of her peak.

His normal attitude clouded by the haziness sex, he rests on his forearms above her, giving an exhausted smile that she returns.

“That the greeting you were hoping for?” she asks, her breath coming in short, hot pants.

And just like that, the Tom Bennett grin returns, leaning down to capture her lips again, “Yes, but I’m not done with you yet.”

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cheesecakethots · 8 months

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hiii I came across your blog and fell in love with your yandere illumi posts!! <3 can I ask how you think it’d be like if reader actually WAS pregnant and forced to carry the child to term?? if ur comfy ofc!!

ahhh thank you!!

tw// unwanted/forced pregnancy, implied noncon, reader depression, reader su1c1de attempts. this is SAD. just SAD. minimum comfort from this. also you have a baby and you don’t like it

this is the worst possible outcome

i try and kinda base reader off of how i would react in that situation, and my reaction would be BADDDD.

the second you realise that you’re pregnant you’re already making plans to throw yourself off the nearest balcony or down the steepest stairs in the manor. unfortunately, illumi is going to account for this. he’ll probably realise you’re pregnant before you even do, and soon enough the whole manor will be “baby proofed”.

there’s going to be butlers following you every step of the way, anything sharp is taken from bathrooms or your bedroom, even illumi has started to cut your food up for you. it’s extremely demeaning and only settles to make things worse.

you’ll start growing quiet as the pregnancy progresses, first out of spite and then out of genuine sadness. as far as you think, you’re truly just a womb to illumi and his family.

illumi will notice how depressed you’ve gotten, but he’s not exactly a comforting person. he’ll monotonously give you compliments, silently hand you bouquets of flowers, and tell the butlers to prepare your favourite foods as though any of those things are what you want.

occasionally, if his worry starts to grow, he’ll allow you outside into the garden for a couple of hours. he’ll even arrange a little allotment for you to plant your own. you might not even like flowers, or gardening, but the distraction is nice. if not, you can still wander the grounds, as though it can give you some illusion of freedom. it doesn’t.

illumi tells you that during your visits to the garden you’re truly on your own; no guards, no butlers, no maids, and none of his family watching. it’s not necessarily true. he’ll be behind you every step of the way, hidden in plain sight. he once believed you’d start appearing happy when no one was around, proving that it’s all a rouse and that you’re fine. he quickly discovered it wasn’t fake when the first time he watched you in the garden you found a bench and cried on it the entire time.

he starts to convince himself that when you give birth to his child you’ll recover, and you’ll love them and feel less lonely.

you don’t.

the birthing is messy, probably due to your stress, and it’s the first time anyone in the manor has seen illumi so nervous. it may not be obvious to you, but to those who have known him his entire life, it is.

you don’t love your baby. sometimes you can’t bring yourself to even look at it. you know that illumi and his family are going to be training it to be as bloodthirsty and murderous as them, so you tell yourself that there’s no point in even bothering trying to grow close with it.

in all honesty, you’re in for a fucking awful time. illumi might get irritated with your lack of love for your child. he might think another will make you feel less lonely. only when you stop talking and stop reacting entirely does he realise that he truly has broken you.

i don’t really enjoy writing about reader having kids because it would be my worst nightmare. literally horrifying. that’s why illumi is so damn scary, he’s having a child whether you like it or not.

if you do manage to get rid of it before you give birth, illumi is going to be fucking pissed. expect yourself to be taken into the basement for a week, at the minimum.

best case scenario for this is that reader can’t have kids. fuck this shit.

i could potentially see illumi turning away from his family and their insistence for him to have a bunch of kids, but only if your pregnancy was that bad. if you almost died during childbirth, i could imagine him being extremely shaken up about it, and may not want to see you that way again. that a very big if, though.

#tw yandere #tw.yandere #yandere #yanderecore #yandere hxh #yandere illumi zoldyck x reader #yandere illumi x reader #yandere illumi zoldyck #yandere illumi #tw noncon #tw pregnancy #tw unwanted pregnancy #tw forced pregnancy #tw forced marriage #tw: noncon #tw suicide #tw suicide attempts #tw su1cide #tw childbirth

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captainjamster · 2 months

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Price x Reader - Training and Punishment

Pairing(s): John Price x Reader Warnings: NSFW, blowjob, face-fucking, authority imbalance, choking, Y/N is used once, light dom/sub, reader is short and a bit of a brat, also not so subtle ghost/soap if you squint Wordcount: 6.4k Summary: Captain Price is a man that prides himself on his strong sense of justice and sensibility - so he knows that stupid feelings for his inferiors are the last thing he should be having. Yet thoughts of a new Second Lieutenant plague his mind after an off-hand comment, and when he sees the opportunity for an intimate scolding, he quickly finds it incredibly hard to walk the line between his desires and maintaining professionalism. AO3 Link: Right here! <3

A/N: I've been meaning to post this on Tumblr for a while, but I've been holding onto it so I can post it when I'm struggling to write/upload - aka right now :p This was the first COD fanfic I ever wrote and uploaded, and I think it's one of my most popular so I'm proud lol

Full fic is under the cut <3

John Price is a good man.

At least, he thinks that he is for the kind of man that the world has made Price to be.

But lately, devilish temptation has been weighing on his shoulders in an unfamiliar way.

"Good morning, Captain."

Your eyes glance over him in a flash that he hopes he doesn’t imagine as you settle in your chair. Price doesn't care for formal seating positions in these meetings, but as you take your seat just two across from his, he can't tell whether he appreciates that decision or not.

The scent of your shampoo and fresh soap tickles his nose and he takes a sharp breath in, lustful images flooding into his mind like they were just waiting for an excuse. But like the hardened, controlled man Price tells himself that he is, he's shaking away the thoughts before they can go any further.

"Good morning, Second Lieutenant."

For a second he isn't sure whether you appreciated his reflection of rank in his greeting, but as he sees the corners of your lips quirk, a delighted warmth builds in his stomach. Before he can find anything else to say, Ghost pushes through the doorway, nodding at Price. Price doesn't even have to raise an eyebrow before Ghost speaks gruffly. "Takin' a piss. Said he'd be quick."

The large man seats himself at the opposite side of the round table and to anyone else it would seem like a calculated move to make distance, but as you pour over your morning notes, Price notices how Ghost shifts his foot to push the chair next to him out in expectation.

The files are still warm in his folder as Price opens it, spreading out training schedules, operation plans, tactical maps and other notes to go over. Ghost's absence of a folder is displeasing to Price, but equally unsurprising. As he shifts through the folder and passes two pieces of paper to Ghost, he's grateful that at least Ghost gets his paperwork done, compared to another one of his Lieutenants.

Like that Lieutenant was summoned by Price's thought, Soap can be heard from the corridor before he even enters the room, trailing behind Gaz as he babbles about something. His demeanour is too bright for such an early morning start, but at least he looks much more awake than Gaz, who is nursing a steaming cup of coffee between his hands, strong enough for Price to smell immediately.

"Mornin' Cap'!"

"Captain."

Soap takes the pushed-out seat next to Ghost, and as Gaz follows suit, Price is relieved to see they've managed to bring their folders; despite how he cringes at the torn, dog-eared edges. Ghost hands Soap the second paper as Price slides another to Gaz across the table.

Two other second lieutenants make their way through the door. They move to sit next to you, finding companionship amongst the shared rank, though Price notices one falter as they observe your proximity to him. It was a brazen move to seat yourself so close to the captain. He likes your boldness, respectful but confident. As a couple others filter in and take their seats, Price begins the meeting. It's a standard monthly meeting, something Price has done so many times he doesn't even need to think, but today he feels nervous. It would make him a poor excuse for a captain if he let it slip him up, so he powers through the unrest in his stomach each time his eyes catch yours.

He tries to keep his eyes off you during the meeting, tearing his eyes away each time he glances at you. When you stand to speak, he almost feels relieved to have a reason to look at you while you address the table. Price doesn't know why he finds himself so distracted by you during the meeting, or why he wants there to be something behind the way your eyes linger on him.

When he dismisses the meeting, his shoulders release a tension he didn't know he was holding. Another effect of your presence, he thinks, and this realisation sparks something impulsive within him. He watches as everyone moves to the door, eyeing you lagging behind as you shuffle your notes, a pace behind your companions.

"(Y/N)."

Your name is out of his mouth before he realises it and you pause in your step, turning to look at him. "I..." Price falters, wracking his brain for something. "You spoke well in the meeting." He nods stiffly and manages a smile, kicking himself for speaking in the first place.

Confusion furrows your brow for a moment, but you look pleased as you smile, nodding back in thanks as you continue out the door. Price sinks back down into his chair, pulling a cigar and lighter from a pocket on his pants and sparking it. Off the field, he tries to limit himself to just a morning and afternoon smoke – not that he’s happy about it. He takes a long, slow drag as he eyes the "no smoking indoors" sign, neatly paired with the smoke detector that seems to be blinking at him disapprovingly. Next to fucking his inferior officer so hard they couldn't walk for days, smoking indoors seemed like a minor rule to break. ---------- It had started weeks ago, after a bitter comment he half-heard from some rookies in the common room after an exhausting session, designed during the previous monthly meeting and run under your command.

"- no way the Lieutenant worked for it; I'm telling you the bitch sucked someone off."

Their backs were turned to Price as they sat at the table, unaware he stood a distance behind them – seeing the captain occupying such spaces was rare, his work keeping him cooped in his office, and it was only checking the supplies that needed to be replenished that had brought him here.

"The Captain is too old to fuck with her, I'd bet Lieutenant McTavish. She serves under him anyway, yeah?"

The other rookie scoffed. "I bet she serves under him alright."

Price decided he’d heard enough and cleared his throat, turning around and stepping over. The soldiers bolted up, standing to attention.

There was no need for you to hear this, he mused, especially when he could handle it himself.

"Finished with training, boys?" They respond with a “yes sir” in unison, and Price saw the hope in their eyes that he missed their conversation.

"Not if you have breath to talk like that. Do it again, whole thing."

A cruel punishment when an office discussion would have served, motivated by the flush of anger he felt in the moment at the suggestion his officers would be so easily corrupted. But as he laid in bed that night, their words echoed through his mind. Sleeping with you? He could genuinely say he had never thought of that before; the battlefield keeps his mind hostage, no space for fleeting fantasies. He was a good captain and respected his inferiors, perhaps beyond what other captains would deem as wise. He wasn't going to fantasise about you because you were a human with breasts and a vagina.

But then he thinks about your first meeting with the team, remembers shaking your hand, the firm grip warming his palm as you beamed at him. Your hands were soft in his, barely weathered despite your time in the field. Soap was delighted at being the only Lieutenant assigned a Second Lieutenant that had to be transferred in, despite Price's insistence that it was a purely random decision to implement someone trained in new combat drills. You were equally as smile-y as the Scot behind you, and Price thought if your smile was any brighter it would hurt his eyes.

Your hands and that beautiful mouth. He wonders if all of you is soft, how your work has left you scarred, what else is hidden underneath that tight-fitting uniform and heavy gear. How it would feel to run his hand up your arm, pull him against you under the sheets, his fingers wet with your spit as your tongue runs over them, keeping those pretty eyes locked with his as he’s pushing right up against there –

He shoves his face against the pillow until his lungs ache for oxygen, only pulling back for a gulp of air when he feels the burning in his lower stomach dissipate. These were just silly thoughts the rookies planted in his mind, and his tired brain indulging in primal nonsense. There was nothing deeper, certainly nothing regarding you. You were a good recruit and he liked that; he’s just looking out for you, right?

I would’ve reprimanded any junior talking about their lieutenant that way – nothing more.

A small spark of rage reignites within him as he thinks of the comments, rolling himself onto his side with a huff. And as he falls asleep, the captain tried to ignore the quiet voice asking him whether he feels angry at the idea of his Lieutenants being tempted, or if it was the temptation being you. ---------- The next time he bumps into you is the evening a few days after the meeting, when dinner has finished, and most are retiring to their rooms. There's an unmanageable amount of folders in your arms as you hurry down the halls.

For a second he falters, dragging his step as his brain works to compute the next best option; does he wave? Pretend he doesn’t see you, lost in thought? Smile and hope you don’t want to stop for a conversation, busy with work?

It wasn't that he was hoping to avoid you, but your presence makes him feel stupid, unassertive as he fumbles uncharacteristically through sentences. The next morning after his encounter with the rookies, he burnt himself pouring water into his mug when you walked in, and soon Price realised he stumbled every time he noticed your presence. The latest meeting affirmed what Price had been trying to deny; not only did you stir something within him, the times you look at him make him hope you feel something back. Your eyes automatically flicker to him as each footstep brings you closer, a smile growing on your face when you recognise him, accompanied by a respectful nod. He could just nod back and keep on walking. Yet despite all his hesitancy, he finds himself to be the first one opening his mouth.

“Lose another bet with Soap?”

You let out a laugh this time, better than the small smile he got before and after the meeting. He can’t help the way that a smile tugs at his lips from just hearing the melody. The papers rustle as you readjust your slipping grip to stop and talk, and he prays that you don’t notice his lingering look at the way the folders pressed against your chest.

“Let me help you, soldier.”

From the apprehension that flashes across your face, he can predict your rejection before it leaves your mouth, cutting you off.

“You think a captain doesn’t do paperwork too? C’mon. You’ll save me from doing more when you drop those folders and lose something important; missing file reports are a bloody bastard to get done.”

To his relief, the smile returns and blooms into a grin.

“When you put it that way sir, I can’t refuse.”

You struggle to keep everything organised as you separate the piles, and Price instinctively swoops his arms underneath yours to catch any strays that might fall. The move pulls him closer to you, and he hates how he can feel his heart beating faster in his chest. Mumbling a thanks, you manage to divide the stack and hold out a half. Price grabs them, ignoring the way his fingers brush over yours as they hold the stack steady. The pile he takes is heavier than it looks, and he’s surprised you were carrying double the weight without more strain. They’re warm from your grip and he ignores the terribly childish thought about how this is some kind of indirect hug.

“Gettin’ in some extra weight training lugging this around, son. Got a strong set of arms on you.”

He needs to stop complimenting you during every goddamn interaction.

“Thank you sir, guess it’s assurance our training works well. It’s just to my office; you won’t have to carry them for long.”

He hums in approval, letting silence fall between you as he keeps a slow pace, listening to your footsteps fall in tandem. The hallways are empty, and a selfish part of him hopes they stay that way as he basks in your presence.

“It wasn’t a bet, by the way.”

“Sorry?”

“The paperwork, sir, it wasn’t a bet. It was actually really funny – we had some time to kill after training, and Lieutenant Riley and Lieutenant McTavish thought they would try and give me some lessons on hand-to-hand combat.”

“Based on your evaluation feedback, eh? Good lad, working for improvement.”

His approval seems to bring a warm flush to your cheeks that he can just catch in the poor barrack lighting, and suddenly he’s not sure he wants to stop complimenting you.

“Yes sir, thank you sir. L.T. McTavish promised me some lessons and it was convenient that Lieutenant Riley was there too.”

“What was so funny about training, then?”

He can see the door to your office come into view as you turn the corner, and his weary arms feel a little grateful it isn’t much further.

“Oh, it wasn’t the training, sir! They decided to show me some basic combat, and when we’d played around with that, we got to using prop guns as close combat weapons. After a while they started using the guns as weapons to fight each other, and then – “

Price frowns as you cut yourself off sharply, falling silent as the smile drops from your face. He raises a thick eyebrow at the break in speech, but your eyes are suddenly glued to your destination of the door with a feverish interest.

“And then?”

There’s a hesitant quiet before you respond, and Price thinks he can almost hear the gears in your brain turning.

“Lieutenant McTavish… thought it was not a good idea. Because it was irresponsible and could break the decoys or hurt someone.”

If the pause wasn’t suspicious enough, the (rather specific) answer most certainly was. Lieutenant McTavish? Thinking something is a bad idea? You come to a halt at the door, and he stops in turn, watching you.

“And that was funny?”

“Uh… Yes, sir.”

The door swings open as you turn the knob, stepping in and letting the folders fall on the desk with a sigh of relief. Price follows suit, letting the door fall closed behind him as he places his folders neatly next to the pile on the table before turning to you, crossing his arms and resting his hip against the desks’ edge. You stand next to him in front of the desk, eyes flickering between his intimidatingly relaxed stature and the closed door. Instinctively assessing the room and its exit points. Like prey.

“Can’t imagine McTavish would suddenly find such sensibility in the middle of fuckin’ around.”

The way your eyes look anywhere but his face would be amusing if he wasn’t slightly concerned about the state of his Lieutenants and the training equipment. Though, he assumes since Soap and Ghost thought they could get away with it by using you as their little lackey, nothing serious enough had happened to warrant any immediate action; he would confirm with his lieutenants later though, knowing their irritating tendency to shrug off anything but life-threatening injuries.

“You had to…” He watches you swallow as your eyes finally meet his. “You had to be there to get it, just... Funny in the moment kind of thing.”

“Right, right, ‘course. So, if I was to look through these folders…” He picks up one sitting on top just to make a point, watching your reaction. “… This extra paperwork wouldn’t happen to be accident report and equipment replacement forms, eh?”

Nothing comes from your lips as you part them to speak, and you settle for a nervous shake of your head. He notices the flexing of your arms as they rest behind your back, at an informal stance of attention; fiddling with your hands, he suspects, and the way he’s making you nervous sends a rush to his head. You were never arrogant in your responses, but sure and steady, and the sudden change in your demeanour was thrilling to him. Lying to others clearly escaped your many capabilities, and although he could just bust you right now, he doesn’t.

“And if I went to the infirmary logs, I wouldn’t find a muppet or two listed as treated at some point today? All prop guns will be neatly organised in their respective storage spots?”

There’s a pleading in your eyes as they meet his again, and Price knows he should stop tormenting you with this game. That this game is leading his mind to a dangerous place, and he doesn’t know how long he can maintain the boundaries of professionalism as you tremble in front of him. But he won’t be the first one to break, and something inside him can’t but enjoy the interaction, egging him on – so he lets you suffer before applying more pressure.

“You were asked a question, soldier.”

He watches you flounder for a few more seconds, stuttering and stumbling over the excuses racing through your mind. “I-I think I should start my work sir, thank you for helping me carry-“ As you reach out to take a folder from the top of the pile, he uncrosses his arms and moves in a flash to capture your hand against its surface, pinning it there.

“Sir?”

The silence is almost ringing in his ears as he takes a moment to watch you, caught into leaning closer towards him. If Price took not even a step closer, he’d be towering over you; any further and he could feel you pressed up against him.

“I think there’s something you’re not telling me. S’important to keep the Captain informed.”

Every muscle screams at him to give in, to pounce on you. To satisfy the urge to move he slides his arm between you to put the folder back on the table. He lets it fall from his grip before he forces it back to his side, goosebumps prickling where his arm brushes against your shirt. He doesn’t know what miracle is keeping his self-control hanging by a thread, but he’s listlessly thanking every lesson in self-restraint and patience he’s had. He can’t keep the gruffness out of his voice, scratchy as it rumbles out of him.

“Not bein’ entirely honest.”

His eyes flicker down to your lips, and the stutter in your breath tells him that he wasn’t as inconspicuous as he hoped. But you don’t pull away and your hand stays under his, warm, the shaking lulled beneath his steadying hand.

“Sir…”

He takes the step closer, keeping his hand atop of yours. You need to look up to keep eye contact with the captain, and he knows that this is the last time he’s ever going to get to be this intimate with you. Even as they rush by faster than he can keep up with, one stream of thought is loudest: he can’t be doing this. Price had seen this path before, dismissed soldiers from service who had followed it. Even if he did resign to the idea he liked you, it couldn’t go anywhere. Two soldiers couldn’t fraternise, let alone an inferior and their captain.

And it wouldn’t even matter; you were going to pull away. He was making you nervous, wishfully interpreting your fear as desire. Classic fuckin’ projection. This was going too far; a creepy, old officer taking advantage of a good, young soldier. He can’t make himself move, can’t retract his hand from yours, and he knows it’s a matter of time before you do it for him. He breathes in your scent, surprised he can even inhale and waits for you to move, wishing the moment wouldn’t end.

The world doesn’t feel real when you make the first, most unexpected move. You close the gap, body finally against his, and he knows that this is all a dream when your lips connect. But the way your hand cups his cheeks, rubs against the bristle of his beard feels so real, and the shock begins to subside as he kisses back tenderly, afraid the move will shatter whatever illusion he’s experiencing.

His heart wrenches as you’re pulling back too soon, missing your skin against his lips and cheek, but looking at your expression immediately tells him why. Something almost like shame stirs when he realises he’s been paying enough attention to you that reading your thoughts has become easier, but it’s not a challenge when they’re just an echo of his own; we shouldn’t do this, I shouldn’t have done that, we need to stop right now. But Price’s thread of self-control has snapped – it snapped the moment your lips met his – and he doesn’t care about regret or reservations anymore.

There’s only one thing that’s stopping him. He wants to be sure you want this, wants to know this isn’t a mistake.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t–“

“Will y’do it again?”

The question makes you look as stunned as he feels by the kiss, and the playing field suddenly feels a lot more level. Confidence surges back into him, and as words escape you once more, he has a better idea.

“Just tell me to stop.”

His empty hand snakes to your waist and pulls you back into him, letting you rest for a few moments as he waits for rejection. Nothing but a small huff escapes you at the collision, and Price has never moved faster in his life. When your lips meet again, he kisses you like every second breathing is a waste of time; passionate, breathless and hungry. Finally unpinning your hand from the folder, he moves it against his chest. It spurs you to life, fisting the material in a tight grip as your other hand makes itself home in his hair. Price feels himself twitch in anticipation for the moment that it’s guiding him between your legs, and the jolt keeps him grounded. He needs to take it slow, give you enough time to stop. This was already taking too much in his mind, and he was only stealing as much as you would give him. But the way you kiss him back is almost bruising, and the grip on his shirt wouldn’t let him step back if he tried. He breaks the kiss to press his mouth into your neck, and the way you whimper rips a groan from somewhere deep. It takes effort that makes his body hurt to not bite down as he leaves a trail of kisses, finding a place on your collarbone to suck at, until there’s the smallest mark fluorescing against your skin.

Straightening up lets him take a good look at you, flushed and out of breath from his ministrations. He wishes that he’d done this sooner, and an overwhelming urge to make up for lost time hits him so hard that he feels lightheaded. It’s delightfully easy for the captain to man-handle you, spinning you against the desk and nudging your thighs apart with a careful but firm knee. The hand that was in his hair clutches his shoulder for support, and he keeps his hand steady on your waist. But his knee doesn’t press up yet, keeping his distance.

“Y’know what happens to inferiors when they disobey their superiors, don’t you?”

The way your pupils dilate is exhilarating and he feels him twitch again, slowly pressing against the tightness of his pants. Whatever doubt that’s rooted in his brain is drowning underneath the hunger for you, but he refuses to take chances. He can feel the need rising in his stomach, and the fiendish desires that come with it. He wants you to know what you’re getting into – and maybe a small part of him is still in denial, craving reassurance. One last chance to back out.

“They get punished.”

Anything; the grip on his shirt slacking, a twitch backwards, a crease in your brow. But you just peer up at him with anticipation, unswayed by his conviction, jaw slightly agape as he watches the words sink in. He takes his hand from his chest where it encapsulates yours, bringing it to meld against the plush of your cheek, and the way your bottom lip catches under the thumb tracing it has his mind set on what’s coming next. You kiss the pad of his thumb, and as a small hiss slips from him, something sparkles in your eyes.

“Punished? I’m just doing paperwork, like I’m told, sir.”

Then he feels it; the roll of your hips, barely enough to brush your crotch against his thigh. His grip on your waist stiffens as he tries not to tremble. Your breath catches in your throat at the pressure, and he hopes it frightens you. So unaware of what he wants to do to you.

“Doing like you’re told?”

A stray piece of hair brushes against his hand and he pushes it behind your ear, meticulously using the move to drag his fingers down your neck until he can extend his digits, fitting your neck into the crook of his hand. Feeling you swallow underneath his grip is pushing him, and the way he throbs against the seam of his pants is fighting his urge to drag this moment out until he can commit it to memory.

“Funny. I didn’t tell your hips to move. Didn’t tell you to give me cheek.”

With his hand around your throat, you still give him that bratty attitude.

“Part of the service sir, free of charge.”

He has no question that you want this, the reality has sunk in, and it’s only a matter of how fast he can get you on your knees.

“Second Lieutenant, I think you’ve forgotten how this works.”

A gasp breaks from you as he tightens his grip, just enough to make breathing difficult.

“You report to my Lieutenants. My Lieutenants report to me. I am your Captain. You report to me, with honesty.” Price squeezes harder, completely restricting your airway, watching as your face reddens.

“I think you… need another lesson. Y’need a reminder of what your mouth is for, how you should be usin’ it. As Captain of this platoon, it’s my duty to reinforce punishment for misbehaviours.”

The hand around your throat falls to his side, and he lets go of your waist to pull your hand from his shirt, the fabric wrinkled and creased. It pains him to vacate his leg from the warm, plush thighs around it as he takes a step back, but he’s well aware that it’s going to be worth it.

“On your knees, solider.”

Without a word you push off the desk, sliding down the sturdy wood of the desk and to your knees, right at his feet. The lack of resilience is intoxicating, wrapping around his lungs and squeezing the air out of them. Without waiting, your hands are running up his thighs but before they can get to his zipper, he snatches them into a tight grip to press against your head.

“I don’t think so. No hands.”

The stare he fixes you is stern enough to keep you in place as he unzips his pants, just slightly tugging them down. His fingers slip further to his pocket, pulling out a cigar to hang in his teeth and an accompanying matchbox. A lifetime of smoking has the move perfected, and he doesn’t even need to watch, keeping his eyes locked with yours as he strikes the match and burns the cigar butt with a slow, deep inhale. Anticipation is doing his job teasing you, and he can see your thighs squeezing together; good, wearing yourself out for him. When you squirm on your heels, he exhales a plume of smoke, dropping the matchbox on the desk.

“See? Wasn’t that hard t’listen.”

The conflict in your mind is apparent; take the degradation or not. Heat rushes through his stomach at the way your jaw clenches, biting back whatever retort was on your tongue, and he thinks the attitude adjustment deserves a reward.

“Good pet, keepin’ your mouth closed. Maybe you won’t be too hard to teach.”

Price takes another long drag, taking the cigar between his fingers.

“Hands behind your back. Get started.”

“Of course, sir.”

He tries to open his mouth to reprimand your snark but instead a growl tears through him as your cheek rubs over the damp material at his tip, leaving it sticky and glistening when you pull back.

You don’t let him catch a breath, delicately grasping the band of his underwear between your teeth to begin tugging them down. The grip on his cigar is precarious and another drag steadies it as you pull down far enough for his cock to fall free, already tacky and wet from being pressed against him.

“Everythin’ out love, not just my cock.”

Teeth graze against his skin as you nip the band again and he hisses, fixing you with a stern glare. But the way his dick jumps at the pain betrays him, so he settles for another long drag, watching as you finally accomplish your goal. You let go of the band with a snap, the tight pressure of the elastic under his sack making his shaft throb; on purpose, he suspects. You sit back on your heels and take it in, almost admiring your work. He loves the way you look at him, studying his twitching and weeping cock, but Price wants to be in control of this moment. A hand tangles in your hair to attain a dominant grip, tugging your head to stay still exactly where he wants it.

The small noises of surprise are muffled as he pushes your face into the shaft, an upwards roll of his hips pressing his balls against your lips. It’s almost pornographic as each thrust of his hips drags his aching cock across your face, leaving your skin shimmering with trails of pre-cum. Your cheeks are soft and pliant as they smush against his cock, and the hot rush of air and wetness of your spit each time his cock glides over your lips is almost unbearable. A needy moan vibrates against his cock, the sensation eliciting one of his own. The idea of cumming from just rubbing against someone’s face sounds ludicrous, but as his muscles tense, he needs to pull away before he splatters across your pretty face and gasping lips. Your hair falls from his grasp as he clutches your jaw, gripping it with enough force to hurt, tilting your gaze towards his.

“Gonna tell me what my Lieutenants did?“

“They were…”

Satisfaction bubbles in his stomach as you look up at him, sticky, flushed and messy while you lick your lips. He wants you to give in, admit defeat and let him reward you.

“They gave me a close combat lesson and then cleaned down the room, sir.”

It’s so quiet he can hear each breath you take as the satisfaction is replaced with a fiery determination. He doesn’t react or respond, just watches as your eyes dart around his face, trying to gauge some level of reaction. Nothing gives as he rights himself up, dropping your jaw from his grip. The spark of his cigar is dying out, and the last embers glow as he takes a final puff.

“Y’had more than a fair chance, soldier.”

The cigar crunches as he fully extinguishes the expired butt on the desk, letting it fall with a thunk. With both hands free, he tenderly gathers your hair into a bunch, before yanking it back and pinning it against the desks’ surface. The back of your head hits the edge, and he’s satisfied at the yelp and indignant frown it draws from you.

“I’m gonna fuck this mouth ‘til you remember how to be a good soldier. At least work out the fuckin’ stress y’cause me.”

Keeping one hand to trap you against the desk, he wraps the other around his shaft. Spit gathers on his tongue before he opens his mouth, letting it fall down and splat onto his member, making a sticky noise as he rubs it along the length.

“Open up.”

You part your lips, hanging out your tongue and he can’t stop his eyes from rolling back when his cock finally enters your mouth. He knows this isn’t going to last long; Price is a man of drive over energy, stamina ebbing and flowing that’s compensated for by his meticulous touches, manipulative and focused on drawing out every pleasurable sensation he can create whether it’s with his cock or another tool. But in your office, after hours and pressed up against a desk isn’t the right place to bring you apart underneath him, and he has to settle with leaving you a taste only he can satiate.

The way you can’t do anything but let the captain work his hips is erotic, brows crinkled in desperation, eyes wet and pleading, helpless to do anything but speed up the process. It's a miracle he remembers how to speak as shallow jerks massage pre-cum across your tastebuds. In the same moment, he can feel your tongue press against him and his hips stutter.

“Bloody hell, darlin’. Use that fuckin’ tongue.”

Price thrusts further into your mouth, working his way in. You try to swallow around him, spit dribbling from your lips as you do your best to manage the intrusion, and he grunts at the suction it causes.

“Needy little love, eh?”

Another moan vibrates his cock stronger than before, and an animalistic growl is the last thing you hear before he forces the full length in. The way your throat tightens as you gag has his knees weak, and when his balls are flush with your chin, he takes a moment to regain his breath. A slick noise catches his attention, and he realises a hand is between your thighs, slipped under your panties and working away. He’s too close to draw the punishment out any longer, ignoring your absence of permission, and the fact that you’re getting off to being face-fucked is enough to reinvigorate the man.

“Can’t lie for shit, hm? Your body can’t either, just fuckin’ look at that. Playin’ with yourself as I use you.”

Every noise you make courses through him like electricity, and the degradation has you humming and whimpering. Picking up the pace again, lewd, watery plaps fill the air as he fucks your throat. Fluids trickle down his balls, droplets splashing onto your clothed chest with each slap against your chin. The deeper thrusts keep you gagging, stimulating tears that fall down your face, running the military-permitted mascara in black streaks as your eyes squeeze closed. The way you’re falling to pieces underneath him is exhilarating, better than any wet dream or weak fantasy he’s been entertaining himself with. His thrusts grow more erratic, both hands gripping the edge of the table.

“Look at me. Fucking – Look at me.”

Tears drip down your cheeks, nose buried against his pelvis as he feels your throat convulse around him. You blink rapidly up at him, trying to clear your eyes to meet his.

“Watch me while I fill your fuckin’ throat.”

When the words leave his lips, he can see your hand working faster and he feels heat rushing to his loins, thrilled at the idea of coming with you. He picks up the pace, each rough movement driving your head against the wood, and a faint voice in the back of his mind notes to grab Panadol after. The peak of his climax rapidly builds as praise falls from him between pants, telling you how "fuckin’ good" you look taking every bit of his cock.

As he throws his head back, a hand wrapping in your hair and driving his cock the deepest it can go, he prays the walls are thick enough to muffle the depraved grunts and groans he makes while emptying his balls. He feels your body spasm as your own orgasm rushes through you, the high-pitched vocalisations ringing around him as your hips gyrate into your palm and the other clutches at his pant leg. The adrenaline is rushing through him, feeling lightheaded but finally satiated. A hand unclenches from the desk and the other releases your hair, massaging your scalp almost apologetically. When he feels himself soften, he resigns to slowly pulling out, wishing he didn’t have to break the intimate connection. The cum you can’t swallow spills, leaking out and slowly seeping down your neck, onto your chest and shirt.

You look beautiful, face covered in liquids, dishevelled, and still recuperating from your orgasm. Affection overwhelms him and he crouches down, hooking his arms under yours to pull you up from your kneeling position, and sitting onto the desk. A small noise of discomfort makes him feel guilty and Price pushes between your thighs, tentatively pulling you closer into him as a hand rests against your back. The other covers your knee, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into the pressure marks. He feels relieved when you melt into him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your head to his chest. The room is peaceful, heavy with the scent of sweat and sex, and he rests his chin against the top of your head. Although logic returns to him and rationality begins compiling the consequences of his disobedience, he can’t find himself to care, breathing in that same shampoo smell. He hopes next time – will there be a next time? – he can shower with you, surrounded by your scent. As he loses himself to thoughts of possibilities, a small voice breaks him away.

“It was only a decoy pistol, sir.”

It takes a moment to comprehend what you mean, but the realisation snatches a snort from him.

“... And two SA80s.”

Suddenly, the situation is a little less funny, but he settles on the idea it could have been worse.

“… They ripped a mat open and Ghost had a concussion.”

Of course. He closes his eyes, mentally cursing the two idiots and the additional work they’ve added to his already bursting schedule. But he feels your shoulders shake with laughter, and he can’t keep a smile from his own face. While he’d never tell the two men, they could’ve burnt down the barracks and Price wouldn’t care; as long as it led to right here, with you in his arms.

#price x reader #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #price x you #john price x you #captain john price x you #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #jams fics #jams writings

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bibittybopittybadbxtch · 4 months

Text

Attitude Adjustment

Pairing: Felix x Reader

Summary: You’re having a rough day and take it out on Felix. He gives you a much needed attitude adjustment.

Warnings: SMUT BELOW THE CUT, MDNI, 18+, Petnames (Baby, Princess, etc…), Honorifics (Daddy), Oral (F receiving), Dirty Talk

Word Count: <2K

A/N: Hi loves! I’m a Felix girl at heart. What can I say? He’s who I think about so he’s who i write about lol. I also forgot i wrote this 💀 ENJOY!

XO,Bibi 🩷

P.S.

I do NOT consent to have my work posted, translated or published to any third party site or app.

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Your mom had called and pissed you off. You should’ve known seeing her name on the screen before 10am was going to lead to some bull shit. She was in a bad mood and couldn’t have one alone. You swear she called you just to ruin your morning. After the longest five minutes of your life you manage to get off the phone with her. Felix was at dance practice for at least another hour, so you had time to cool off before he got home. At least that’s what you thought. You had just gotten comfortable on the couch with your favorite movie playing when you hear his key in the door. You sigh heavily, it’s not that you don’t wanna see him, of course you do. But you’re still in a mood from your conversation with your mom. Felix bounces into the living room, where you’re sitting.

It takes him all of a millisecond to pounce on you. He’s missed his girl, you were sleeping when he left so he didn’t get a kiss. Felix begins placing kisses all over your face to make up for lost time. Unbeknownst to him you are increasingly getting annoyed. “Lix, baby get up please” you try to shuffle from underneath him, but he’s not having. “Wait, I missed you. Let me get some affection.” You understand where he’s coming from but you simply aren’t in the mood. “Felix, come on. Get up. “ you try again, but he ignores you and nuzzles his face in your neck. At this point you’ve had enough. You shove him, not too harsh but enough to get him moving off you. You sit up and glare at him. “Yongbok, fuck. off.” in retrospect probably not the best choice of words and actions. Felix looks pissed, not only do you two never speak to each other in that way, you didn’t call him Yongbok ever. It was just something you never did, he never called you, Y/N. You both preferred to use terms of endearment with the other.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Felix asks perplexed. “Nothing, I don’t wanna talk about it. Leave me alone, please.”You turn your head away from him, hoping to avoid more conversation. You know your words from earlier struck a nerve, so you try to soften the blow of what’s coming next. Felix grabs your chin and pulls you close to him, you’re so close that the tips of your noses are touching. “No. That’s now how we handle things and you know it. Plus your little outburst needs to be dealt with.” Felix may have be sweet and bubbly and almost submissive everywhere else, but with you he was always in charge. From the day he met you he said that you were like a wild stallion. You think you know what’s best and won’t hear it from anyone unless they made you. And boy did Felix have a way of making you listen. You bashfully look at him, “Okay.” He kisses you harshly, before releasing your chin. Felix pulls you to straddle his lap and looks you in the eye. “First we will talk about what’s bothering you, and then we will handle that bratty little attitude, yes?” he says to you. Although it’s formulated like a question, you know it’s not. “Yes, Sir” you say before you begin recanting your conversation with your mother.

“I was hoping I would have more time to cool off before you came home, but i hadn’t looked at the time.” Felix nods his head in understanding. “Well…I understand where you’re coming from. I know how much she frustrates you sometimes. Im sorry that your cool down time was cut off. That being said, you lashing out like that. Not okay." Felix sees the fire ignite in your eyes before you even say a word. He saves you from yourself by smashing his lips to yours. At first you’re taken by surprise, then your tongue starts fighting Felix’s for dominance. Felix stands and lays you on the couch on your back. He stands and looks at you. You’re not wearing anything but his old t shirt. He can just barely say your pretty little pussy peaking out the bottom. He climbs on top of you and starts kissing down your neck.

You’re a soaking wet, moaning mess. “Please Daddy.” You beg. You don’t know what you’re asking for but apparently Felix knows what you need. He slides the shirt up to take it off, leaving you exposed to him. He takes a taunt nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting it. He takes one of his hands and starts toying with your clit, before giving your other breast the same attention. He then begins to kiss down your abdomen, before his mouth joins his hand on your pussy. He takes your clit in his mouth sucking harshly. “Oh Baby. You’re so wet and you taste so good for me.” You moan as you feel his fingers breech your hole. Felix is magic with his tongue on your clit. You can feel your orgasm building. “Daddy, Can I Cum” He say breathily as your body begins to quake. Felix stops abruptly, “No.” Your head shoots up in shock, “What!”. “You heard me. No. bratty girls don’t get to come.” He tells you before starting to finger you again. This goes on for thirty more minutes. Felix bringing you right to the brink of an orgasm before stopping. You have tears of frustration rolling down your cheeks as you cry out. “Please! I’m sorry Daddy. Please let me come.” “There it is. I was just waiting for you to remember your manners.” Felix tells you before resuming his suckling on your clit. His fingers diligently work in and out of you. You feel an orgasm building, “Daddy, Can I Come? ” you ask him sweetly. “Yes Princess, let go for me.”

You come all over Felix’s hand. He moves to kiss you on your forehead. “Good job. You did such a good job for me, Pretty Girl” He gets up to grab something to clean you both off with, but before he can you reach out to him. “I'm sorry. It's not your fault. My anger was misdirected. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It was uncalled for." a tear falls from your eyes as you sniffle. Felix is quick to wipe the tear. “I accept your apology Baby.” He kisses your mouth gently before heading to the bathroom to grab a towel.

#skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids #felix x reader #lee felix #skz #skz stay #stray kids felix #stray kids smut #yungbok #felix x y/n

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earlgraytay · 1 year

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The Author's Darling

So I follow a lot of people who post a lot about OC/self-insert positivity. And that's genuinely great. I love people's OCs and self-inserts. But occasionally, I will see someone, in an attempt to Defend The Honour of OCs and self-inserts, defend a particular kind of writing mistake. And that pisses me off, because it does everyone a disservice.

There are plenty of people who write OCs and self-inserts who do not make this writing mistake, and equating the two is unfair to every OC writer who works hard at their craft. There are also plenty of people who write canon-character-only fanfic or original fic who do make this mistake-- and that hurts both them and their potential readers.

The mistake I'm talking about? Writing a sort of character I'm going to call an Author's Darling.

I'm going to talk about what Author's Darlings are, why they're bad, how you can avoid writing one, and what an Author's Darling isn't. I put a cut in this post, because it's long.

What is an Author's Darling?

An Author's Darling is a character who cannot fail at anything that matters to the author of their story.

What this looks like in practice depends on the author-- different authors prioritize different things. Some authors think their Darling should be stone-cold badasses and never lose a fight. other authors are fine with their Darlings getting knocked out every time they try to throw a punch, but would be very upset if their Darling got rejected romantically.

Plenty of characters succeed at most things they try. Superman wins most of the fights he takes on, but he's not necessarily a Darling. But if you look at a character and you can say, "oh, this character would never lose a fight", or "everyone loves this character and would never get mad at them"? You've got an Author's Darling on your hands.

And- especially in fandom- a character can be a Darling in the hands of one author and a perfectly fine character in the hands of another. Steve Rogers/Captain America is an example of a character who gets Darling-ified a lot. Captain America is supposed to be a shining example of The Best that humanity has to offer- he's virtuous, strong, brave, and oh so pretty. It's easy to fall into the trap of making him incapable of failing at whatever you want him to do, whether that's "punching a lot of Nazis" or "supporting Bucky in his recovery". But a lot of writers manage to thread the needle and write Cap as the lovable, flawed person he's supposed to be.

Why are Author's Darlings bad?

Well, two reasons:

Writing an Author's Darling is a really good way to give yourself writer's block, especially when it comes to the plot. If your character can't fail at anything important, this means that it's really hard to build tension. If your character is going to automatically succeed at anything that's important to the plot, all you're writing is "and then they win, and then they win, and then they win". It can get pretty monotonous pretty quickly, especially if you're writing genre fiction. You can run out of ideas, or your inner critic can go "this isn't how stories work???? the FUCK???" and block your creative flow. If your character can't fail at anything- important or not- it's hard to come up with a good story for them at all. You know how sometimes you get a character rattling around your head but you can't get a plot for them at all? One of the first steps in fixing that is making sure you're not writing an Author's Darling.

Writing an Author's Darling makes people not want to read your work. Now, look. I know everyone says "you should write for yourself, and screw anyone who says otherwise!" But let's be honest here: it sucks to spend hours working on a piece of writing, post it, and then get, like, 2 hits and no kudos, or 1 tumblr like from your friend who likes everything that crosses their dash. It's incredibly demoralizing. Author's Darlings are one of the big factors that make people stop reading a story. As soon as a reader gets the sense that the protagonist can't screw up- that they're "too perfect"- the tension in the story is gone. There's no reason for them to keep reading, because they know the character's just going to Press The Win Button And Win. So they'll click out without saying anything, and you'll wonder why no one's reading your fic.

What isn't an Author's Darling?

This section is haunted by the ghost of Mary Sue. If you're reading this list and you're new to fandom/young, you might wonder why I'm calling out certain specific things; this is a fandom war you missed, don't worry about it.

An Author's Darling is not a character of any specific gender. Male, female, and nonbinary characters can all be Author's Darlings.

An Author's Darling is not necessarily an OC. In the current fandom climate, it's way more likely that a Darling will be a 35-year-old canon male character the writer calls "babygirl".

An Author's Darling is not necessarily a self-insert, but it's really easy to make a self-insert into a Darling. There's a reason people recommend that newbie writers avoid self-inserts- it can be really hard to write a character based on yourself that screws up something important. It takes a lot of vulnerability and courage to write, and it's not something you want to show everyone.

An Author's Darling is not an "overpowered" character or a "cool" character. Your character can have sixteen katanas and do air dashes and still not be a Darling- and your character can be a powerless human in a superhero setting and be the biggest Darling to ever Darling. Having "too many" powers or standing out "too much" in the setting is often a symptom of a Darling- if you don't want your character to fail at anything important, and being The Coolest Person In The Room is important to you, you're going to make your Darling overpowered and good at everything. But it's not the thing that makes an Author's Darling bad.

An Author's Darling is not a 'perfect' character, or a character without flaws. There's a lot of overlap in the Venn diagram, don't get me wrong... but you can load up a character with "flaws" that don't matter to you. A lot of dudebro male writers, for example, will make their Darlings emotionally constipated, mean, and Bad At Relationships. These genuinely are character flaws... but these writers don't give a flying fuck about the character's relationships. They're happy to let their Darling fail at this stuff to prove he's FLAWED!!!- but try and make them write a fight scene their Darling loses, and they'll break out in hives.

Why should I care? Writing is supposed to be fun, and writing characters failing is not fun for me.

Writing is a craft. It is no different from knitting a sweater, making a stop-motion film, or trimming a bonsai. There are ways to do it well, and there are ways to do it poorly.

It can be fun and rewarding to knit a shitty sock with holes in the heel where you forgot how the pattern works and weird lumps in the calf. It is more fun and rewarding to get good enough at knitting that you knit socks you can wear.

Similarly, it can be fun and rewarding to deliberately write stories about overpowered Author's Darlings that are boring to read for anyone who isn't you. But it is more fun and rewarding to get good enough at writing that you write stories other people will want to read.

And you know, maybe you don't care about that. Everyone needs a hobby that they're bad at and have no interest in getting better at; it keeps you humble. Maybe writing is yours.

But plenty of writers do care. And tarring every writer who writes OCs and self-inserts with the same brush- the brush of "this is supposed to be fun! we're writing deliberately bad things! yay!"- is an insult to anyone who writes OCs and cares about their craft.

If you want to write well, you should be aware of what an Author's Darling is, and if possible, you should try to avoid writing them. If you don't care about writing well, that's fine- but please avoid implying that every OC or self-insert character is badly written in this particular way.

#general malarkey #tumblr malarkey #fandom malarkey #on writing #author's darlings #the earl speaks #the earl grumbles #the earl has an opinion

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an-au-blog · 4 months

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I need to get this ball rolling and to write this au idea out anywhere so pllleeease indulge me and listen to me try to put a spin on Shuggy soulmate au.

Setting: a world in which soulmates are connected by a string of fate that shows only for a short second when two peoples hands touch, doesn’t even have to be romantical, but if you are connected to someone with that string it means your souls are interwoven in some way. Shanks and Buggy share such a string. In the beginning they both believed they were more along the lines of „platonic complete opposite soulmates who’s differences and conflicts drive each other to become their best selfs“ but after Laugh Tale they both realized that at least the „platonic“ part was complete Bull and they become a couple.

The inevitable happens. Rogers excecution, Buggy feeling betrayed by Shanks decision, breakup in the rain, but Shanks still holds out Buggy will come and join him again soon. Then one night Shanks wakes up with a feeling of absolute heart wrecking despair washing over him and at first he thinks he had another nightmare about Rogers execution, but then he realizes that he’s in physical pain, his heart is actually aching and a deep sadness envelopes him as he scream sobs and curls in on himself. Buggy has cut his string.

Years later. They meet again at Marineford and things proceed mostly normal. Shanks doesn’t hold a grudge against Buggy, doesn’t even mention it, doesn’t even confront Buggy about it, he still feels deeply for his soulmate and he never managed to cut his string, because he couldn’t bring himself to do it, but he knows Buggy has moved on. And Buggy is pissed as expected about Shanks being so nice and friendly and “Oh the map? You’re still angry about that?” And GODS he wishes Shanks would be at least a little bit pissed… and part of him is glad he isn’t.

… because thing is, Buggy didn’t cut his string either. Oh he tried alright, and it was as awful and painful as it was for Shanks, an immense physical pain combined with the worst sadness and loneliness he ever felt in his life and that’s saying something coming fresh of his father figures execution. But through the sobbing and heaving he suddenly realizes with dread that the string has reattached himself to him. He once again curses that damn fruit That bereft him not only of his ability to swim but also to cut of the person he never wants to be hurt by ever again in his life. But he can’t. But Shanks thinks he did. And the least he can do after hurting his soulmate this badly, doing the one thing that everyone tells you not to do another human being because the pain is so immense, is to never let Shanks know that he couldn’t cut it.

I'm not even joking when I say that literally half an hour before seeing this ask, I was thinking about red sting soulmates Shuggy omfg get iut of my head ahhagah

Anon imma name you just so whenever you write/post this pleaaaase send me the link! I'm naming you Meltan because anon, this melted me this is amazing :')

The thread hurts like cutting off a part of one's body. Some say it's even worse. Shanks had experienced that already, but it was fueled by the urge to protect. He lost his arm for Luffy and that was fine by him. He still feels bad that he regretted it for a split second because he thought that that was the hand that had Buggy's string on it. If he just prayed to anyone and anything that he never had to choose between the two.

Ever since they realized their bind was more than just platonic, the string felt a bit more lively. "Lively" probably wasn't the best word to call it, but it seemed somewhat vibrant. Shanks took pride in it and in the little time they had together before their breakup, he'd take any chance to touch Buggy and look at the thing that connected them for life. Even if they parted, he thought, they would still fate connecting them and pulling them together.

I'd like to think that Shanks knew, that Buggy's parts always came back to him. But he's under the assumption that Buggy's string isn't on him anymore, so it hurts even more because that would mean Buggy didn't feel their connection as a part of himself.

Shanks sometimes still felt the string but he thought that it was like a phantom limb syndrome. He had one arm less anyway, and he would still feel like it was there, but the string felt more tangible. He assumed it was because it was cut off more recently.

(Dare I improvise that- ) Buggy, when they meet again, started wearing long gloves and long sleeves again. He didn't want to risk Shanks knowing. One late night, Shanks gave him a big hug and for a millisecond their skin brushed. Buggy jumped back in a moment of shock. He felt it. And if he felt it, then Shanks also felt it. It was like a warmth after being in the cold for more than a decade. It felt like the first drops of water after wandering a desert for too long. Shanks maybe tries to tell him what he felt but Buggy denies everything and makes jokes of the sort of "Shanks are you drunk again?" "Haha, okay buddy, time to go to bed now" or just tires to make an excuse to leave. In any case, he rushes to shut the door behind himself because he knew he was going to crumple. He leans against the door and slides down, face in his hands, cursing himself for letting himself feel what he's been trying to stay absent for so so long...

Why did he need months of rehabilitation every time he saw Shanks again. Why did being sober hurt this much...

#AAAAAA anon/meltan I'm begging you please send me if you ever post this pleaaaaaase I'm crying #shuggy #shanks x buggy #buggy x shanks #soulmate au #answers #op

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marunalu · 6 months

Text

Careful long rant incomming! If you are a bakugou fan its better to not read any further, so you are warned!

So regarding the new chapter. Well, like I already said, when I actually didnt believe hori could turn bakugous fake death and resurrecction even more terrible then it already was to begin with, he surprised me again. Its just SO bad!!! I have no idea what he thought when he wrote that bullshit and I really dont get how some people can defend it. I have seen many MANY terrible written fake deaths in fiction, but bakugous takes the crone! It didnt contributed ANYTHING to the story! It was just there to shock the readers and that backfired so hard that even hardcore bakugou fans were like "yeah right.... as if hori has the balls to kill his biggest money maker off". It was written in such a cheap way that NO ONE believed even for a second that bakugou would really stay dead and it pissed people on both sides (bakugou lovers and haters) off! And then, just to proof that it was indeed just for the shock value, right in the next chapter best jeanist and edgeshot come to the rescue. And in fact the most unlogical rescue I have EVER seen in shonen! They do a heart surgery on bakugou IN THE MIDDLE OF A BATTLEFIELD, with edgeshot desinfecting himself with SOAP BUBBLES before entering bakugous body and him and best jeanist stitching up bakugous RAPTURED heart and the hole in his chest, without giving him any oxygen or a blood transfusion for 30 MINUTES and he still didnt fucking die!!! Two guys with ZERO medical knowledge managed all of this, but now comes the best!!! They couldnt make his freshly operated heart beat again (lets also completly ignore the bloodlose and lacking oxygen!!!) so WHAT does it instead? A FUCKING SWEATDROP?????? THAT EXPLODED IN HIS BODY AND MADE HIS HEART BEAT AGAIN??????

WHAT THE FUCK HORI????? 🤣🤣🤣🤣 How can anyone defend that shit?!?! Listen you dont need to be a medical genius to know that a small exlosion near a heart will absolutely not make it beat again!!! Honestly I think, just like @tengoku-izumi mentioned in the comment section of one of my posts that hori is aware how terrible he fucked up bakugous "death" and resurrecction to the point even bakugou fans had to facepalm themself and now is desperately trying to explain his crap writing. There was ZERO reason for this! Bakugous "death" didnt do ANYTHING for the story! If he wanted bakugou out of the way for a while to focus on other characters he didnt had to "kill" him just to resurrecct him in the VERY NEXT chapter! And now he didnt even had the balls to kill off edgeshot despite that it was said, he wouldnt be able to return! 🤣🤣🤣

Absolutely no one of the hero side fucking dies in this final WAR, how I am supposed to care or be worried about the chatacters if I know for a fact that hori doesnt have the balls to kill them off. Its supposed to be a war! People DIE in war and not only the bad guys! At this point he could rip someones head off and I wouldnt be worried at all that the character doesnt survive!

Now lets go to the bakugou vs afo fight. First off, the mere thought that bakugou should be able to FIGHT after he just woke up from a heart surgery, lost A LOT of blood, didnt got any oxygen for HALF AN HOUR, but still for some fucking reason can fight against the main villain now, is the most utterly ridiculous plot armour shit I have ever seen! He shouldnt even be able to MOVE!! And now BAKUGOU gets to fight the main villain AGAIN, not the actual mc of the story, NO the most horrible written side character in shonen history?!?! Are you fucking kidding me??? 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

It almost feels like as if hori all of a sudden realized that bakugou is the only more prominent character in the story who doesnt have his own villain and was like: "uhmmm well uhhhhhh.... lets just give him the main villain then." At this point its not my hero academia anymore but "bakugous hero academia". Not only is he the one who safes all might (I would be fine with that even if he shouldnt be able to move in his condition), he also gets to fight the main villain, while the mcs fight against shigaraki till to this point happend almost completly OFFSCREEN!!!

There is just one good thing about the fact that bakugou fights afo. It proofes even more that there is a connection between afo and izuku. Hori really REALLY doesnt want izuku and afo to interact (yet) with each other! He is hiding something. There is no reason to not let afo and izuku see and interact with each other. Afo is the main villain and NOT ONCE did he and izuku directly talk or see each other face to face. And I think its maybe because izuku would recognize afo. There is no reason otherwise. Hori could still make bakugou fight against afo, AFTER afo managed to reach izuku and tomura but he stupornly makes sure afo and izuku dont interact and thats suspicious as hell! Also Im still confident that afo has an ace up his sleeve (like the overhaul quirk for example). Also this is the perfect oppunity for afo to mention little tsubasa (on of bakugous childhood friends/minions) and to explain what happend to him. Espicially if afo actually wanted to turn bakugou into a nomou, but he had to be fine with tsubasa, because bakugou was always to close to izuku to vanish unnoticed.

All in all it was an horrible written chapter. The worst hori has written so far. Bakugous plot armour really destroys this manga for me. I think I really need a break.

#bnha #bnha spoiler #bnha dad for one #anti bakugou #anti katsuki bakugou

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ryuichirou · 2 months

Text

TWST x Horror game setting

comedydoctor18 asked:

Who do you think of the twisted wonderland crew would survive a horror game (or love them a bit too much for everyone's liking) and who would be screaming in terror?

It’s such a good question, I am very sorry it took me so long to write this one. I keep coming back to this ask and smiling at it, it’s so right up our alley…

Also, as you read this, you might say "but Ryu, I meant it as if they sit down and play the game, not they as if they are inside the game", and yes, I kind of got confused there, so please bear with me. I will write a proper list for your actual question later, but for now please accept this slightly off interpretation of it.

I think what I ended up writing is in a way similar to the HC list about the cast getting kidnapped, but the specifics are quite different, so I hope this is going to be a somewhat fun read.

Also, the default state for all of them is “going through some kind of semi-abandoned place with enemies running around” and doing it solo, simply because otherwise the post would be too huge and take ages to write lol

Sooo.

Riddle would be terrified and pissed off at first, because this is his reaction to any type of intense confusion, but when he finds a place to hide and starts thinking about the situation, he’ll manage to calm himself down somewhat (he’ll still tremble a lot) and plan how to play it smart. If he’s lucky, he’ll survive the game, but he might also start to use his magic too much, overblot and kill all the enemies at once lol

Ace is kind of reckless but he is a fast learner, plus his self-preservation would kick-in. He makes stupid mistakes, but he learns from them. Still, he would have a lot of moments of “wow I almost died just now”. He’ll get scared, but at some point this feeling would shift into frustration and anger, similarly to Riddle. He would still prefer to be stealthy and smart though… as much as he can, of course.

Deuce is surprisingly good at handling monsters. He prefers to kick the shit out of them, because hiding requires more thinking, and it’s very difficult for him to think when he is scared. And he would be super scared, his brain would probably shut off completely at some point, especially if he is all alone. Of course, it’s always better to have someone by your side, but I feel like Deuce would be affected by being alone the most when it comes to his mental state.

Trey though, ironically, has better chances of survival if he is doing it alone. Maybe because if he is alone, he doesn’t have to hold back or to think about making sure the others are safe and well. He has this vibe of a horror game protagonist, who is just a guy with glasses, but somehow is capable of running for an entire day, fighting monsters with some piece of metal he’d found somewhere and healing himself with drinking dubious potions lol

Cater would be super scared, but ironically I think he would have a bigger reaction if he had someone around than if he was alone. He would also his clones to confuse the enemies and try to be as stealthy as possible: he doesn’t want to fight anyone, he just wants to get out of here. It would probably take some time for him to calm down and focus, and if he sees someone, he would cling to them instantly.

Leona is supposed to be a smart and strong guy, but I still think he would fuck up somehow in a very stupid way; but then again, he would also probably spend a couple of days just sleeping somewhere, maybe thinking about the plan, maybe just conserving energy. He has good chances against the enemies, but he doesn’t want to fight them if they’re just going to keep spawning again and again.

Ruggie is a champion of surviving, he is stealthy and resourceful, so he would probably plan ahead and end up having a lot of first aid kids, food, ammo, anything that could be helpful. He won’t use all of this himself of course, but he’ll sure as hell trade if there is someone stronger than him running around… In general, Ruggie has good chances, and he isn’t scared because he doesn’t allow himself to be: he has to act smart and be quick about it.

Jack is super bad at hiding lol his floofy tail is very obvious. So he would go Deuce’s route: fighting everything he sees and trying to kick and bite his way out of the situation. His main downfall is that he is a softie, so if he sees or hears someone who needs help, he’ll prioritise them over his own life. He would be scared, but similarly to Ruggie, he wouldn’t allow himself to be, albeit for a different reason.

Azul is a scheming motherfucker. He is that one shady guy who offers to form an alliance because “we’re stuck here together, right, so why don’t we work together?”. He is also that one guy who backstabs you immediately when you’re no longer needed. He is smart, stealthy, resourceful and super careful, so he has good chances even when he is alone, but mentally he wouldn’t be okay at all: he hates being out of his element and being surrounded by nothing but unpredictable violence. He is surprisingly strong when it comes to physical combat, but also painfully slow… His perfect plan would be to find someone who is physically strong to carry him around and do all the hard work lol like in the Beanfest.

Jade and Floyd are difficult, because in our heads they are just the twins from Outlast…. They are so horror game monster coded for us that it’s difficult to picture them on the other side of the situation. I feel like they would want to join the chaos and have as much fun with it as possible. Of course, they are concerned over their own safety, so he’ll take care of themselves first and foremost, but the moment they feel more comfortable, it’s the Purge, baby. They’ll completely alter the course of events and make sure the game (there isn’t any game, you sick fucks, we’re just trying to survive out here!) lasts as long as they want it to last.

Kalim wouldn’t survive if he is all alone in this lol is what I was going to say, but Kalim has this weird Kalim luck, so he is probably going to survive SOMEHOW. Like he would hide in a bunker and then a huge bang is going to destroy the entire map. It’s almost comedic. Kalim is going to be very scared the entire time though, and also think about Jamil all the time. He’ll try to think what Jamil would have wanted him to do, and the thought of Jamil maybe being out there and needing his help would motivate him to leave his hiding spot and go looking for him… which isn’t the smartest decision, but then again –Kalim’s luck.

Jamil has good chances, but he really needs to use someone as a shield. For the majority of time he’ll hide and avoid combat as much as possible; in the perfect scenario he wouldn’t face any of the enemies at all. But he has the opposite of Kalim’s luck, so he’ll have a very hard time. I can even picture him having a mental breakdown when the enemy catches him, like the laughing-crying type of breakdown, but he has to go through a lot for that to happen.

Vil has very good chances of survival. We’ve seen him during the Beanfest – he is very good at figuring out where to hide, when to attack and how to fight. Plus, he’s physically strong and has good stamina. He would still get scared, but wouldn’t show it much aside from his hands trembling. He’ll also get super messy because he just has to, I want to see him bloody and dirty lol Ironically, his demise would probably be him trying to help someone. I just really like this as a twist… Especially if there was no one to save (no one to appreciate his heroic act) and it was just a trap. He’s perfect for stuff like Dead by Daylight.

Rook – let’s be honest here, this man would survive any type of horror. It’s not like it’s impossible to scare him, but it’s pretty difficult. He is mostly worried about his loved ones than scared for his own safety. This is Rook we’re talking about: Slenderman is scared to see him when he turns around.

Epel is that one virgin that miraculously survived all of this. It’s not going to be easy, it’ll be messy and he’ll get hurt a lot of times. He’ll give up every two hours or so, but then get angry and somehow persevere. His Unique Magic is going to be pretty helpful, but it takes too much energy, and Epel is already weakened and very very scared. But then again, he’ll even get to directly punch a bad guy! And maybe bite them…

Idia is that nerd who knows all the tropes, so on the one hand, he knows that he is probably immune because he is a virgin, but then again, he is that nerd who knows everything, so his chances of dying are pretty high. He’ll give up on his life pretty quickly, though after thinking about how his own thought process is: this is real life, not a videogame or a movie, so of course he’s going to die in about 10 minutes. But when a really dangerous moment happens, he’s going to surprisingly feel such strong desire to survive that he’ll run away successfully… He is fast when he’s running away from someone lol And he is probably good at hiding, plus tries to play it smart. I think he has some chances of survival, but they aren’t very high, if he is all alone by himself.

Ortho wouldn’t die, he would be excited about this experience lol But he would definitely be worried about Idia, so instead of surviving, his goal is going to be finding Idia and making sure he is okay. If he can’t find him though, he could get very distressed, and then it’s game over for all the monsters and any other fools who are currently trying to survive :(

Lilia wouldn’t have many problems, a lot of times he would have this “heh, I’ve seen worse” type of vibe. I would say that the only thing that’s going to slow him down is that his experience is pretty dated + he is much older now that he used to be, but is this really an issue if he knows modern media quite well and probably is familiar with a lot of horror tropes? So yeah, peepaw isn’t scared at all.

Silver’s sudden sleepy time would sabotage him a couple of times, but in general he is very good both with his combat and survival skills. But he is similar to Jack in terms of wanting to help if he feels like there are other people (or animals) in danger. In a way, he is even worse about it than Jack, because he is very self-sacrificing.

Sebek has good chances of surviving, but he has his problems… First of all, he would be very angry, partially to cover the fact that he is a bit scared: stealth isn’t his stronger suit, but he compensates it with his brute force and combat skills. But then again, he is both angry and a bit scared, so he always jumps to fight even when he is supposed to run away or hide.

Malleus is too overpowered to have any issues with any type of horror game I think lol He wouldn’t be scared, maybe surprised and annoyed? We have to nerf that man somehow lol But anything that isn’t amusing to him would end up being burnt to a crisp by him.

#replies #headcanons

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leviathism · 2 years

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Hello Piko ^^

I wanted to ask you if you could write the reaction of the brothers to a MC that’s distant towards Mammon ?

The MC doesn’t hate Mammon but they don’t pick up on his Tsundere tendencies, they think he means the insults seriously and that Mammon genuinely doesn’t like being around them, therefore the MC keeps distant so that Mammon isn’t forced to spend time with them, when they don’t need to. (Because of the protector duty)

But one day the MC helps Lucifer in the kitchen and MC asks Lucifer, if they could get a new protector, Lucifer immediately thinks Mammon has done shit again, but MC quickly reassured him and told him that Mammon doesn’t seem to like being around them and therefore asks if somebody else could take Mammons position, so he is no longer forced to spend time with them, when he clearly doesn’t want to (in MCs eyes). Plot twist the rest of the brothers were gathered at the dinning table and heard everything including Mammon. How do you think they would react ? If you don’t want to do all the brothers, then just do Lucifer, Mammon, Levi and Satan please.

I’m sorry that I ended up being so long, I hope you are well and have a good day/night :)

gender neutral reader

Lucifer just tells you he will pick someone else. It’ll most likely either be himself or Beelzebub. He also knows that Mammon is playing hard to get, but he will do nothing directly to resolve this. He wants Mammon to learn his lesson and fix it himself for once.

Mammon is guilty but unsure how to fix this. He tries to think of every possible way to fix this but… in the end he recruits his brothers for help.

In some extreme, elaborate plan, he manages to both piss you off and embarrass himself in one go. Then, he will just have fully come clean and admit his ‘tsundere’ act. His brothers watch and laugh.

Leviathan saw this coming a mile away. He is pleased, watching it all unfold: Satan’s rolling eyes, Mammon’s fear stricken face, and he can only imagine how Belphegor could’ve reacted. It would’ve been hilarious.

He doesn’t like the part where Mammon pesters him for everything he knows about you. A normie like you? Levi thinks Mammon is better off without you. (He wants to be your protector secretly).

Satan is surprised since he thought anyone with a brain could pick it up. He will only help by dropping a few hints on what Mammon is really like, but he doesn’t really care. He offers to become your new babysitter if only for the chance of destroying Lucifer’s hopes and dreams somehow. He’ll figure it out as he goes.

never quite sure what to put when the reqs are super long but i hope you like it!!! i think your prompt could be the post itself haha. great idea tho

#obey me x reader #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x you #obey me x gn!mc #obey me x gn!reader #obey me x y/n #obey me #mammon x reader #satan x reader #lucifer x reader #leviathan x reader

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manyothermusingsofmine · 11 months

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so huyandere posted this on twitter with the notion of like “did anyone write a detailed analysis of kristoph’s solitary cell already bc why is there a pink chair. Insane.” and like I don’t know if it counts as a detailed analysis but I certainly have Opinions about this. I’m a bit sick though so this is really rambly and not on track in the slightest. and if you click the read more it’s all there so uh like

Okay first of all I’m going to have to fact check this but I feel like the wiki told me Kristoph apparently talked the guards into getting him all this stuff?

-one wiki search later- “He managed to call in some favors to some of the prison guards whom he had befriended to get various items into the cell, turning it into something of an office.”

Okay yeah so that’s fucking terrifying? Kristoph already doesn’t strike me as the type to have legitimate friends because everyone is a means to an end with him, but- bro that’s not pulling favors that’s mafia boss behavior what the hell.

But like the bigger Thought I have about the whole thing that derails a little from huyandere’s original question is just. The fucking paralells between Simon and Kristoph? Like okay no hear me out actually.

They’re the same character archetype, in a way. They’re both cool, collected, kinda detached loners- arguably the flip side of each other’s coin because where their character wildly diverge is in motive. Kristoph’s whole motive in his story is greed and envy; wanting the fame and fortune others have and feeling like his rightful place in the spotlight is being usurped by people who don’t deserve it Simon on the other hand’s whole motive is undying loyalty to protecting someone he cares about. He’s on deathrow for a crime he didn’t commit, but can we not gloss over the fact that he’s doing so to protect Athena, who, at this point if the story gets spun in her direction, would befall the same faith? That’s -deskslam- why I’m so mad actually that Simon and Klavier don’t interact in Dual Destinies. Like, at all. And that’s a fucking crime because no matter how you spin that their dynamic would be so interesting! Like, would Simon’s similar demeanor freak Klavier out and does their coworkership therefor become kind of strained and uncomfortable? Or are you like me and do you think that Simon takes one look at Klavier and goes “-Markiplier voice- oh he’s traumatized” and instinctively adopts this weird rockstar prosecutor as his brother because eh what’s another adoptive sibling at this point. And in that case does Klavier look at Simon’s behavior and just go “well thats similar to what I was used to anyway so yeah you can stick around.”? Also I’m not done you clicked on this that was your choice entirely it’s even more fascinating to think about Simon and Kristoph spending even one day in the same jail establishment because first of all I feel like Simon would look around that jail cell and just go “show off” and leave it at that. And while I think the fandom has a point in that Simon probably wouldn’t like Kristoph, have we even considered how much Kristoph would fucking loathe Simon? Simon is pretty much the better version of him because Simon has honor and loyalty; things Kristoph definitely lacks. Furthermore with his background in psychology and just the general way he is Simon wouldn’t fall for any of Kristoph’s manipulation tactics, and there’s not much else Kristoph can do because there’s no way in hell that he would win in a physical fight against Simon; the man’s build like a fucking tank come on now. Do you have any idea how much it would piss Kristoph off that he has this absolute powerhouse of a man in a cell next to him and the bastard’s completely immune to his manipulation skills?! And before I forget the fucking?? paralell?? between Simon owning a trained hawk that I can only assume he trained himself which takes time and talent and trust and sfmdfmg the sprite of him petting Taka makes me feel things. Vs Kristoph having a dog where the general consensus seems to be that it’s a golden retriever, which makes me feel things as someone who has owned golden retrievers and who knows their unconditional love, because he wants to be loved unconditionally with no questions asked FDS,MFNSDFG,MNDF,GM-

#ace attorney #headcanon territory #simon blackquill #kristoph gavin

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babiebom · 4 months

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Hey!! I love ur writing for stardew so much. I was looking at ur rules & things u write for. And saw u do criminal minds ??? Like fuck yeaaaa!! I was wondering what ur headcannons would be with dating Spencer Reid? (Especially with him dating a genderfluid / nonbinary person with adhd) Thank you sm!!! Ur work is so amazing!! 😭😭😭

A/N: yeah!!! I do write for criminal minds, mainly the fic im working on is on ao3 and I’m debating on posting it here~ also thank you thank you for enjoying my writing!!!

A/N 2: B R O T H E R I WROTE THIS ENTIRE THING AND TUMBLR DIDNT SAVE IT SO NOW I HAVE TO REWRITE AND ITS GONNA BE WORSE THAN THE ORIGINAL BECAUSE I CANNOT FOR THE LIFE OF ME REMEMBER WHAT I WROTE!!!! And I know whoever reads this (not you anon) will be like “why don’t you remember it’s your headcanons” ITS BECAUSE I FORGET JUST AS QUICKLY AS I WRITE LEAVE ME ALONE.

Tw: some cursing, adhd being portrayed by a person that doesn’t have it

Criminal Minds Masterlist

So before I get into these headcanons I do like to point out that I do not have adhd and I also identify as cis so I’m not writing this from a personal pov. Obviously I am going to try my best but I just want to warn people and say that if anything is inaccurate let me know!!

So what I know about ADHD is there is three main types

The inattentive type the hyperactive type and the combined type

And personally I feel like Spencer would know the differences in how it affects you and would behave accordingly.

But we’ll get to that in a second because either way gender-fluid or nonbinary has absolutely nothing to do with how he treats you!!

Like dude is in love with you he doesn’t care about how you identify as long as you’re happy he’s happy and he will always introduce you as his partner or significant other.

Like unless you’re feeling a certain type of way and want to be introduced in that way he is more than comfortable with everything just being neutral.

Like sometimes I think that he does go about these things in a logical way, so I feel like it could be very helpful as well as sometimes unhelpful y’know?

Like there are pros and cons to everything EVEN someone being the most understanding anyone could ever be.

The adhd can however come with self esteem issues and I know sometimes even if you’re proud of who you are and what you identify as, there will be some hard days where everything just seems hopeless.

And while I think he would do his absolute best to comfort you, he just doesn’t understand what you’re going through from a personal point of view.

He does stay with you through it and does whatever you need him to because he high key would feel awful that someone he loves feels awful.

OKAY now onto the adhd aspects

I think the differences between the three types means that there will be different ways that he handles everything.

So for the inattentive type I think he would become more conscious of everything around him that way he can help you whenever you need it.

While yes he wants to help you work on finding ways to manage the symptoms and stress he also knows that it takes TIME and that helping in this way makes everything slightly better for you.

So when you’re together and he can see you’re losing focus he either remembers everything that was said and retell them to you or try to get you to pay attention again without making it too obvious.

Like he doesn’t want you to be embarrassed and he doesn’t want the other person to feel bad or angry so he tries his best.

Or he reminds you of simple things like did you remember to place your keys in this certain place? No? Okay let’s look for them or y’know just put them there to make sure we can keep track of everything

Reminds you to eat

It honestly just seems like he’s a doting boyfriend but I feel like it would feel like much more than that

Like you’re cared for and loved

But also it depends on the type of person you are because someone doing this could also piss someone off and make them feel dumb.

I would hope that you’d be okay with it because it’s not a bad intention but I also understand that sometimes intent and impact are very different things so….

Sometimes gets his feelings hurt because he does like to go off on tangents ably things that he finds interesting and sometimes it’s hard for you to pay attention for an extended amount of time.

Knows you don’t mean it and that he’s used to it due to usually being cut off but it still sometimes hurts.

ONTO THE HYPERACTIVE TYPE

I think that this type would be more difficult for him to help with in my opinion

Like he himself has lots of things to do and has to no time to relax. So him being on the go and you being on the go is just too much.

He still wants to help but helping in this situation is difficult especially because trying to get someone to sit and relax when their mind is racing is almost impossible

Like sitting there thinking about how many things you need to do gets you more agitated and upset.

BUT I think that this type is more comical in a way with him because your conversations are just both of you going off on tangents and interrupting each other.

But it’s not offensive because both of you understand that’s just how your conversations work.

Also I think while it’s tiring for both of you there’s no one upset about both of you being gone all the time because I honestly think in this timeline you would have a job that allows you to maximize and take advantage of your adhd powers.

You understand that he’s just unavailable sometimes and he understands for you as well

I think it makes those days where you can spend all day together that much more special.

Does want to help you control it though, and if you want his help he will find ways that you can relax more because everyone needs a break once in the while.

Now with the combined type of adhd I feel like it’s more….unmanageable than the other two due to it being a combination of things working against each other and together.

Again if I’m wrong tell me (be nice though I’m trying)

And this type causes the both of you distress because he really does want to help but with everything clashing it makes it hard to be okay.

Like according to what I looked up it seems like EVERYTHING is impacted by it.

Like sleep problems, memory problems, self esteem issues, sensory issues, like damn stepping away from these headcanons are y’all ALRIGHT?

This is something that he would be like lmao I don’t know how to help you so all I can do is be here for you if you need something

Which is enough y’know

He is there when you’re breaking down, there when you’re happy. He helps you with your confidence and with loving yourself

Tries to help manage everything but in a less hands on way than the other two types.

Like with one or the other the things that are impacted are very specific things so it’s easier to help(not saying that it’s easy don’t get me wrong) but this impacts a lot more and is more general so it’s difficult

Does his best to be someone you can depend on.

I think he is very helpful with these things because of his experience with his mother

Like they’re not the same thing; adhd and schizophrenia, but like he’s used to dealing with people he loves not being in the best of mental states.

When he is not helping with everything I think in general he is a very touchy person ngl

Like he wants to be on you at all times

Not sexually and sexually like he just likes being with you.

Best guy best bf love him 💖💖💖

#criminal minds #cm #criminal minds headcanons #cm headcanons #spencer reid #criminal minds spencer reid #cm spencer reid #spencer reid headcanon #criminal minds x reader #cm x reader #spencer reid x reader

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aceofroses-queenofstars · 7 months

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This post will contain discussion of rape and sexual assault

i'm writing a whole essay on this but. I don't know how many people know the opera Don Giovanni who aren't musicians or musical scholars. But I have Many Thoughts and need to share them.

Number one: HOW in the HELL do people think Donna Anna is in love with Don Giovanni? She explicitly states how terrified she was when he broke into her room and assaulted her. Her driving force through the opera is rage and a need for revenge for both her attempted rape and the murder of her father. She is actively invested in ensuring that no one else is a victim of his crimes, and is pleased at his death. Donna Anna is a victim, and an incredibly strong character.

Number two: How in the WORLD have we gotten to a point where Don Giovanni is idolized as a heroic character? People forget or aren't told that the full title of the opera is (roughly translated) "The Dissolute Man Punished, or Don Giovanni". The Point of the Opera is that he is a terrible man who has commited Literally thousands of sexual crimes, as well as murder, and he gets what he deserves. He gets dragged down into hell for it, and he refuses to repent.

I am starting to understand how it came to be that the public perception of this opera is so far from the text (i am reading some INCREDIBLY interesting papers about this) but the main thing I am seeing is that scholars, when writing papers and textbooks, are either jumping to wild conclusions from the text or being incredibly picky when it comes to the evidence for their claims and straight up ignoring contradicting scenes. Also, many of them view Donna Anna, Donna Elvira and Zerlina as crude stereotypes. Some go as far as claiming that (I genuinely hate this) Donna Anna was better off for being assaulted. Talk about rape culture and victim-blaming!

And that's the real problem with the perception of opera. So much of the literature surrounding it has been written by scholars (predominantly male) who have been influenced by a culture of misogyny and rape that they refuse to see the complexity of any of the three female characters, and turn a blind eye to anything that paints Don Giovanni for what he truly is: a rapist. Every interpretation of anything is influenced by the culture from which it comes, and that is So Incredibly Clear in the literature surrounding Don Giovanni. It pisses me off.

Anyways, if this post manages to reach the dashes of people who have heard of or studied Don Giovanni, I want to know - how was it taught to you? Was Don Giovanni portrayed as a dashing, rascally hero? Did you study the female characters, and if so, in what light? What stood out to you about the opera? I'd love to know!

Also, if anyone would like to read the papers I've been studying, lmk and I'd be happy to post them!

#rose rambles #classical music #mozart #wolfgang amadeus mozart #don giovanni #opera #feminist literature #tagging anything that i think will get this post to the people who get it #music #music school #music history #donna anna #urgh i get so mad about this which is why i need to write a bomb-ass paper #history

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ilovemycrayons · 1 year

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you smoke & I’ll have a drink [emily prentiss x reader]

Hey I sneezed. I’m currently in love with Emily Prentiss & It is quite sad the literal choke hold she has on me. But that’s not the point. Anyway, I slammed this together while sT0n3d as shit, per usual how I spend my nights & this is how i imagine being in a relationship with Emily where she is okay with her girlfriend smoking & loves it because it makes her girlfriend more honest & fun to play with.

I don’t post what I write usually so I don’t know how to do warnings but if you’re not a fan of drinking or smoking w33d then this is kind of full of it. fingering, praise talk i think is in here, probably self esteem issues i wouldn’t put it past me. I don’t know I’m sorry i tried. Just be warned I guess. But if I missed any please let me know. also yes the grammar is probably piss poor & i think it is written in 2nd person or something i’m so sorry in advance.

Okay lastly, some background i wrote this imagining season 16 prentiss with season 12 Prentiss job if that makes a lick of sense. My brain has created this beautiful mix of silver fox prentiss as bau leader. So that’s what I did & that’s what this is.

Everything was working out perfectly. It was Friday night, the new case they had picked up earlier in the week was finished and the suspect was in custody, and to celebrate it was girl’s night. You had heard all about it from Emily on her drive home, making your heart sing hearing the happy and relaxed tone in her voice. it was also warming to know she had managed to find some time to go out with her BAU girls especially after such a case from the little details you got from the news coverage & Emily.

“i want you to come with us. i also know what you need to do to feel comfortable in a setting like that, if you want to smoke first i can pick you up in 30 minutes if that works for you.”

the line was silent for a minute while you tried to collect your already high as a kite thoughts. “i- i don’t understand what you mean. i would never do something like that… like smoking.” it was so forced and such a lie anyone could have caught it. you had a suspicion that was one of her favorite things about you, the fact that you were such a bad liar. she must find entertainment in you always scrambling to find a good lie to bark out at her.

“absolutely baby, not a little stoner at all. i will see you in 30 then.” you could picture the smile on her face and your stomach flipped just thinking about it. you hung up the phone and ran into your bathroom to get in the shower.

you had no idea what it was that kept her so interested in you. she was the head of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, studying and catching some of the worst serial killers ever. smarter than anyone you have ever met, but you’ve heard rumors about Dr. Spencer Reid. you had a good job & made enough money where you were able to afford an apartment comfortably by yourself, but exactly as she said, you were a smoker. you only smoked at night mostly to go to sleep & relax and when you went out you chose to be high rather than drink. after your shower you dried off, did your hair and makeup, before throwing on a big tshirt to wait until Emily was close to picking you up. you had fifteen minutes left before she would be at your door. turning on something on your tv you smoked until you got the text from emily that she was on her way. you ran back into your room and picked out your favorite dress that was short at the perfect length and showed off your chest quite nicely.

in perfect synchronization with putting your lipstick away in your bag for the night, the doorbell rang. you took a last look in the mirror you had by the door and opened it to reveal a smiling emily. she was still in her work suit but it complimented her so well and she knew you loved it when she wore them. lately, emily had been letting her hair grow out and the beautiful gray show more which was making you weaker in the knees each time you saw her and sending you through the roof. it took you too long to realize you were admiring her until you looked up at her and saw the look on her face. “h-hello.” you finally squeaked out.

“hi little bird, you look very pretty.” she smiled scanning your figure, her eyes following your curves leaving a small smirk on her face. “are you ready to go?”

“yes,” you smiled and put your bag on your shoulder and took your jacket off the hook. you closed & locked the door behind you then followed emily down to her car. the rest of the night was filled with high energy & great drinks. you had met penelope & jj before at a night out with the team but never this intimate. you relaxed through the night as they asked questions to get to know you better and you all made jokes about some of the guys that tried to come up to the table.

after a few hours you all said goodbye and you were soon back in emily’s car heading back to your apartment. “i’m glad you came out with us,” she smiled and placed her hand on your thigh. “did you have a good time?”

feeling her hand on your thigh your back was now flush against the car seat. “i had a lot of fun. it was nice to meet JJ & Penelope outside of the group, they are so nice.” you quickly glance down at Emily’s hand that seemed to be a little further up on your thigh than before, but you both knew you weren’t complaining. the drive back to your apartment was a comfortable silence until emily parked and turned to you and smiled.

“thank you for a wonderful night. would you like to come up for another drink before you go?” you you look up and can’t help but smile when she turns the car off and grabs her bag from the back seat.

“i would love to.” she smiled and kissed your cheek before getting out of the car. as you walked up to the door you got your keys out and led her inside. you were happy to see your apartment was clean enough for a guest. you walked to the little bar in the corner of your kitchen and made emily a quick rum & coke which had been her drink of choice for the night. “thank you baby,” she smiled and took a sip. “will you be smoking i assume?” emily smiled and walked through the apartment looking out the back slider to the deck, smiling at the rolling tray on the table.

“oh, uhm if you don’t mind sure. we can sit outside, it’s my favorite spot in the whole apartment.” you smiled and walked out with her. you had spent so much time making a small corner of the patio to be a perfect smoking corner. you sat in your usual spot while Emily sat right next to you and sipped her drink, answering some messages on her phone. you got to work making a little joint, picking out the perfect nug, fitting it into the grinder just right, and you definitely enjoyed hearing the sound of the weed being grinded, knowing that a beautiful pile would be waiting for you in the middle chamber. After you were done, you pulled out what you needed to roll. you pulled out her new favorite lighter -of-the-week and lit the joint.

Everyone knows the best hit is the first, and this one did not disappoint. you felt all of the muscles in your body (except your lungs) completely relax and tensions were all gone. Instinctively you pulled out your phone and opened your favorite app and began scrolling while continuing to smoke. It was amazing to you that Emily didn’t always need you to entertain her. you two were completely comfortable just being with each other, whether you were talking or playing around, or just being in the same room together without saying a word. This was the perfect time to just sit and enjoy each other’s company while Emily sipped her drink and you smoked your perfectly rolled little joint.

After some time had passed, you put the remains in your ashtray and sat back in your seat. “That felt amazing.” you giggled as you felt the slow buzz go through your body. “This is my favorite flower I’ve gotten so far.”

“i hope you will be able to get it again,” Emily said in a soft voice while picking up her hand and bringing it to her lips to kiss the back. “Why don’t you come over to the couch with me,” she smiled. “I feel like it has been forever since we actually sat together.” she stood up and gently pulled you up with her before getting as comfortable as she could on the outside bench. Luckily it was padded, but it didn’t add much. It also didn’t help that she pulled you down onto her lap. she wrapped one hand around your waist and the other on your legs keeping you close to her. “Now this is more comfortable.” she chuckled.

“Think so? I’m definitely comfy.” you smiled and nuzzled into her chest. you stayed still while she held you, leaning her cheek against the top of your head and rocking you both very gently which soothes you a little too well.

Emily pulled back and smiled at you. “I think you deserve another. You’ve been so supportive this week,” her voice was soft and low, sending chills through your whole body. Emily definitely noticed as she put her hand on your cheek and you nearly melted against her. “If anything, baby, do it for me.”

Carefully, you got down off her lap and set yourself up between her legs facing the table. Surprisingly, it was more comfortable than you thought. you started the same process again, but was distracted when you felt Emily’s lips against your neck. The jar that held your flower was put back down on the table and you leaned back against Emily’s chest.

“Bird what happened? Can you not concentrate?” she leaned you up and pulled the table closer. “Maybe you can’t reach, maybe this will help. ”

you picked everything up again, starting where you left off. It wasn’t long into your process until Emily started again. A slow trail of kisses on all sides of your neck, this time accompanied by some traveling hands. All on your sides, trailing down to your thighs and back up again to your chest (which you were grateful for the fact you chose against any kind of bra.) you playfully pushed her off so you could stand up to reach the roller on the other side of the table.

When you did, your panties were pulled to the floor, leaving you completely exposed under the skirt of your dress. you turned around to Emily laughing. “Really? Are we children?” you reached down to pull your panties back up but was stopped when Emily grabbed your waist.

“I thought you would be more comfortable this way.” she smirked and pulled you back down onto the couch with her. Emily’s lips were back on your neck and her hands lying comfortably on your thighs. “Anyway, continue.” she hummed. Emily slowly trailed her hand up your body from your thigh and up to your chest and softly began to massage your breast, while placing light kisses along your shoulder and back up again. Her other land lightly glided up your thigh, getting closer to where you wanted her to be.

Emily’s hand on your chest slowly got more aggressive, grabbing more man massaging and mixing between teasing and pinching your nipple that was now between her fingers easily slipped under the top of your dress. The hand that was on your thigh was now drawing light circles against your clit, slowly leaving you a shaking mess against her.

“Oh fuck Emily, I’m so close.” you finally whined out. Her lips were on all of your sweet spots along your neck and shoulder, her hand on your breast twisting and pulling at your nipple, and her fingers moving in a faster circle while your climax was rushing over.

“Cum for me baby.” she hummed and kept her pace helping you through your climax. “Good job baby, you did so good.” she hummed and held you when collapsed back against her, breathing heavily trying to collect yourself. “I think you deserve that second joint now.” emily laughed lightly and kissed your cheek.

You laughed and sat back up again finishing what you started. You set everything up and looked around the table for your book of papers, only to realize they were on the other side of the table. “Shit,” you mumbled. “My papers are on the other side of the table.”

“So then get them.” Emily smirked looking up from the message she was answering on her phone.

You gave Emily a suspicious look but decided to trust her. You hesitated another second before standing up and reaching over the table for the papers. When they were in your hand, just as you predicted, you felt two of her fingers slide inside you. “Oh fuck!” you screamed but quickly bit your lip once you were reminded you were outside.

Emily laughed with a teasing tone and slipped his fingers out before pulling you back down on the couch. “Oh birdie, so wet for me already. Are you finished rolling yet?”

“I just have to add uhm, the paper. So one more step.`` As you explained, you completed each step and were finally greeted by a beautifully rolled joint. You picked it up and held it in front of your face. “Perfection.”

Emily handed you a lighter which you happily took and lit the joint in your fingers. You enjoyed the first few hits before Emily took your body and turned you towards her to kiss her. Emily’s hands traveled again and her tongue started exploring your lips, teasing against you. She broke the kiss turning to face you forward before scooping you up and sitting you on the couch while she got comfortable next to you. Emily placed her hand on your cheek slowly down your body until it was between your legs again and sliding her fingers over your entrance knowing it was teasing you more than ever now. “Don’t forget about your joint.”

“Please?” you whined and leaned your head back taking a hit and blowing it out. “Please.”

Emily slipped two fingers in and waited for you to adjust and get comfortable. Instinctively, you started grinding against her hand, causing emily to smirk. “Oh fuck Emily.” you moaned.

She wrapped her other arm around you and slipped the strap of your dress down, exposing your breast, giving her more room to go back to playing with your nipple as she did before. “Look at you baby, you look so perfect for me, grinding against my hand, you’re so wet for me too. Are you enjoying yourself bird?”

Hearing all of her words of praise, and nursing the joint you made sent sparks through you helping you keep a steady pace of your hips. You bit your lip harder as your climax built, holding on to the arm and back of the couch for support. “It feels so good Emily. I’m gonna cum again, I’m so close.”

Emily chuckled playfully and leaned down to take your nipple between her teeth, giving a soft bite and softly kissing as an apology. “Cum for me birdie, now.” she barked and leaned back, enjoying the moment. On command, another and stronger wave washed over your body and after what felt like an eternity, you finally collapsed next to Emily, who brought you into her side, but careful of the blunt that was almost finished. On the last hit you took before you exhaled, emily softly put her hand on your neck giving it a small squeeze as you exhaled before she kissed you again.

A little surprised by her actions you ended up with a little bit of a coughing fit but got it under control quickly. “Wh-what was that? I’m not complaining, I’m just asking.” she took the finished joint from your fingers and put it out in the ashtray before sitting back on the couch with you.

“Oh baby, I’m full of surprises. You’ll just have to wait and see.” Emily smiled as she curled you up in her arms close to her chest and lightly rubbed your shoulders and back. “I love you.” she whispered.

~~~~

Anyway, I told you it was kind of a mess but i had to get the idea out. Let me know what you think of this one please. Again, i know the grammar and spelling and everything isn’t good i told you i tried my best & just worked on getting the idea on paper & if you might be interested in another work in progress that i can rewrite to prentiss.

taglist because they interacted with the post from earlier :

@darcyfangirlsfrequently @strawberry-miku @natasharomanoffisbaebby @kennedy-alexis @evilregal2002 @ssalinaprentiss

#criminal minds #criminal minds evolution #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #i hope you like it please leave comments or send messages what you think about it #okay love you bye

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