#and I've been ordered to show the evidence
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spiritsonic · 5 months ago
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elizabeatrice · 1 year ago
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Osomatsu-san is Not That Deep but I'm A Delusional Diver #1
I know it's from back in April BUT may I just comment on how 3/4 of the semi-finalists are duos with Oso in it?
This is like one of the reasons why kusochonan's my favorite. He just works well in the dynamics with any of his little brothers!
Makes me wonder what affects this result tho. Is it a no brainer since he's the leader? Or because of his accepting nature which makes it easy for anyone to feel comfortable being themselves around him most of the time? Or because he's the eldest? Or because he's arguably the most attached to the others compared to his brothers? Or because he's arguably one of the most flexible when switching between the boke/tsukkomi role? Or did luck just happen to shine upon him with the showdown combos that were dealt?
Some comparison below because I find the numbers interesting haha
Semifinal Individual Matsu Count
Osomatsu: 3 (choukei, beni, baka)
Karamatsu: 1 (choukei)
Choromatsu: 0
Ichimatsu: 1 (suuji)
Jyushimatsu: 2 (baka, suuji)
Todomatsu: 1 (beni)
2nd Round Individual Matsu Count
Osomatsu: 4 (choukei, beni, baka, sokudo)
Karamatsu: 2 (choukei, kinniku)
Choromatsu: 2 (wakaba, sokudo)
Ichimatsu: 2 (ichito, suuji)
Jyushimatsu: 4 (wakaba, kinniku, baka, suuji)
Todomatsu: 2 (beni, ichito)
For this particular deal of showdown, dynamics with Oso and Jyushi seem to get more votes. (Tho I mean, what's not to love about Jyushi am I right? He's the lovable sunshine ayee)
This is not a dis (because I do love Choro)! But I also find it interesting that Choro's count is zero in the semifinals. Because in another, older fandom poll I recall that he was the fandom's least favorite matsu. If I'm not mistaken, the order was Kara, Ichi, Jyushi, Oso, Todo, Choro. (Or was it Ichi first and then Kara?) Unfortunately I can't seem to find that poll to crosscheck so take this with a grain of salt.
If sokudo had made it, I think he probably would've been there as I'm also under the impression that a lot of people love sokudo. But perhaps the demographics changed? I mean, fandom members usually become less active when the show is currently not airing new content. Also I'm not sure how the Japanese demographics would affect the poll results. Would be interesting to see, tho! A Twitter poll could be fun, since most Japanese fans (or just Japanese people in general) are there. Please lmk if there's already one!
Or maybe sokudo was just unlucky to be facing off against suuji in the first round. Haha.
Yes, I was surprised beni made it. It's just that idk I rarely see beni content tbh but they ARE rather the unexplored potential. Was surprised choukei lost, too.
Of course I don't know how many of these were joke-votes or petty-votes ... but I kinda feel validated that duos containing my two favorite matsus seem to get a lot love from the fandom. Anyway, baka appreciation!
Matsubara-san please give us more bakamatsu. Interchangeable idiot - idiot enabler just sends me.
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matsu duos showdown!!!
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masterpost
round 1A results: wakaba v. iro | choukei v. nenchuu | cyber v. beni | 110 v. mine
round 1B results: sue v. kinniku | baka v. zaimoku | suiriku v. sokudo | suuji v. parka
round 2 results: wakaba v. choukei | beni v. 110 | kinniku v. baka | sokudo v. suuji
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adragonsfriend · 7 months ago
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I was reading the Attack of the Clone's script for *research* purposes, and it's been a while since I've seen the full movie but:
OBI-WAN: You look tired. ANAKIN: I don't sleep well, anymore. OBI-WAN: Because of your mother? ANAKIN: I don't know why I keep dreaming About her now. I haven't seen her since I was little. OBI-WAN: Dreams pass in time. ANAKIN: I'd rather dream of Padmé. Just Being around her again is... intoxicating. OBI-WAN: Mind your thoughts, Anakin, they betray you. You've made a commitment to the Jedi order... a commitment not easily broken... and don't forget she's a politician. They're not to be trusted.
Literally I will never be able to take the "Obi-Wan is so mean he didn't let Anakin go find his mother" argument seriously ever again. On a purely factual level, there's not a single indication Anakin told Obi-Wan his dreams showed him his mother was in danger or that he thought they were dreams from the Force. Anakin says himself that he doesn't know why he's dreaming of her, which makes Obiwan's "Dreams pass in time," so incredibly reasonable.
Wait wait wait let me update the language to the *pretentious voice* modern parlance. It'll be like a Shakespere "translation." Here we go:
Obi-Wan: you look tired Anakin: I haven't been sleeping well Obi-Wan: Cuz of your dreams? Anakin: Yeah I've been randomly having dreams about my mom all of a sudden. Obi-Wan: They'll probably go away if you wait a bit. Brains are weird like that sometimes. …
The only evidence Obi-Wan might have to the danger point is that the dreams are disrupting Anakin's sleep. But Obiwan is the one to bring up the dreams, in context of them disrupting Anakin's sleep. If Anakin was looking for an opening, that was it.
But way more importantly to me currently is the fact that Anakin transitions out of talking about his mother by going "I'd rather dream of Padmé. Just Being around her again is... intoxicating."
Wtf anakin??? Who says that??? Let alone to their brother-dad???
He seriously goes from talking about his dreams of his mother to how his crush that he's known for a couple days total at this point is really hot, and people expect me to believe that Obi-Wan was supposed to divine from this conversation that they needed to immediately run halfway across the galaxy to prevent imminent disaster?????
Let me continue my translation:
… Anakin: I'd rather dream about having sex with Padmé. She's so hot and pretty and nice Obi-Wan: Anakin remember how the beliefs you've been committed to for the past ten years are maybe important to you? Also politicians are generally corrupt, we eat the rich in this household.
This is a fanfic type miscommunication plot at best, except for some reason people act like Anakin isn't being about as clear as mud.
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pathologicalreid · 1 year ago
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buried alive | S.R.
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in which the BAU races against the clock to rescue you from a killer team
who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader
category: angsty
content warnings: kidnapping, case stuff (murder yk), suffocation, being buried alive, hospitals, blood, nausea, CPR, funerals, use of pet names, guns, and drugs. i think that's all.
word count: 2.9k
a/n: okay, so i've been reading so much spencer fanfic and i started writing it and yesterday i realized i have 20 fics written and they're doing no one any good just sitting on my computer. i decided to finally try posting one. i wrote fanfic in high school (so like seven years ago) but this is my first time writing for a TV show. i've also never really posted on tumblr so please bear with me while i try to figure out formatting. tysm for checking out my post.
part two part three
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You walked into the conference room and dropped the file on the table, allowing it to land on the wood with a satisfying splat. “The unsub’s burying them alive,” you said, letting the rest of the team know the conclusion you had come to with the medical examiner. “The M.E. found metal shavings and satin threads under the nails of our last victim. The most common materials to make up a casket.”
“There’s no way someone could bury someone alive in a casket alone, we’ve got to be dealing with a team, at least three people,” Emily concluded, standing in front of the evidence board.
It was the team’s third day on a case in Nebraska, four women had been discovered dead. Asphyxiation by hypoxia. Carbon dioxide poisoning.
“Approximately 420 people in the United States die from accidental carbon dioxide poisoning every year,” Spencer said, grabbing the file off of the table and flipping through it, taking a few seconds to read through it.
Rossi looked over Reid’s shoulder to look at the file, “but there’s nothing accidental about these deaths. Who would have access to these caskets?”
You shook your head, placing a hand on the back of Spencer’s chair, “A funeral director seems most likely.” You looked around at the Omaha field office, different agents running about in an attempt to solve these very murders. “They’d have the most access, write it off as displays. It could be hard to match the materials since they’re so common.”
Hotch leaned over the table and pressed the conference phone, “What can I do you for?” Garcia’s bright voice rang through the speaker.
“Garcia, I need you to look into funeral homes within the comfort zone. Look for a director who’s ordered more caskets than they’ve had funerals. Find anything, nothing is too small.” He told her.
“Absolutely, I’ll hit you back when I’ve got something,” she said, hanging up the phone.
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There ended up being four funeral homes in the unsub’s comfort zone, so the team split up. You went with two locals to a family-owned business, Garcia had sent you all of the files you’d need on the location. “It looks like the Varn family has been in the funeral business since the seventeenth century,” you read aloud to the two agents you were in the car with.
“Does it mean they’re more or less likely to be the killers if they’ve been in business for so long?” One of the agents asked you, a younger man named Harrison.
You pursed your lips as you continued to look over the files, “I’m not seeing any glaringly obvious stressors before the murders started, but over the years I’ve learned that’s no reason to write someone off. Psychopaths can be tipped off by the slightest thing. Things none of us would bat an eye at.”
Harrison nodded in the passenger seat, looking over to his partner Jimmy, “You and your guy sure do make an interesting pair.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment, so thank you.” You and Spencer never explicitly stated to the field office that you were dating, but you walked into the precinct this morning holding hands. The agents must have drawn their own conclusions.
The younger officer cleared his throat, “It is a compliment, ma’am. The two of you are very impressive, your whole team is.”
You smiled, “Thank you, Harrison.”
The funeral home was run by a mother and her two sons, you held up your credentials for the mother when you knocked on the door. “Are you Sheila Varn?” You asked her, raising your eyebrows.
“Yes, what’s this about?” She inquired. She didn’t really look the part of a serial killer, a middle-aged woman who was running her family business.
Pocketing your credentials, you spoke, “We’re investigating the recent murders in the area and we were wondering if you had samples of the materials your caskets are made out of. Might we be able to come in?” You asked, adding a charming smile for effect.
Something flashed across her face before she returned your smile, opening the door and welcoming the three of you inside. “Hold on, let me get my boys up here. They’re so much more versed in the goings on of the town than I am,” she said, opening the door and calling for her sons. Felix and Joss came up the stairs from the basement, now they definitely had the physique to load dead women into caskets and bury them alive.
“Why don’t you two men come with me? I’ll get you those samples,” Sheila said, motioning for the agents you were with to follow her. To your horror, they followed her around the corner. “Felix, Joss, show this young lady what you know,” she instructed.
You took a deep breath before you looked up at the two men.
They were tall, maybe Spencer’s height, but they were built like wrestlers. There was no way you could physically subdue them on your own.
You passed out before you even had the chance to pull your gun.
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Hotch was in full Unit Chief mode, Spencer watched from the corner of the room as he separated people into groups and gave them specific instructions. JJ and Morgan walked into the precinct, “What’s going on?” JJ asked looking around the room.
“The Varn Family is the team; two agents were found drugged on the side of the road and when we went to the funeral home Y/N was missing. Her badge, gun, and phone were all there, covered in blood,” Spencer said morosely, watching as Hotch finished giving orders and called the rest of the team over.
Your picture was up on the evidence board with the word “missing” written in bold letters beneath it. All of your belongings had been put into evidence for the time being. “Reid?” Hotch said his name, causing his head to snap up. “Are you okay to keep working?”
Spencer nodded affirmatively, “Yes.”
“Good, I need you to estimate how much time we have, I want a clock on these screens,” he ordered.
Morgan turned to Reid, “What do you think she has, kid?”
“The tidal volume for the average adult is point five at rest. That ends up being about six liters per minute. The average casket is approximately 886 liters in total volume and the average volume of the human body is 66 liters, leaving 820 liters to be filled with air for her to breathe. If she’s been gone for half an hour already, I’d estimate she has less than five hours of breathable air left.” Spencer explained, doing all of the math in his head while Emily put a timer on the screen next to the evidence board.
After a moment, Hotch continued, “Rossi, JJ, go back to the funeral home. Tear it apart, there has to be something there we haven’t found yet. The rest of us will split the list of cemeteries in the comfort zone and search them.”
“That’s a lot of ground to cover, we don’t have anything else to go on?” Morgan asked, looking at the list of burial sites he had been handed.
Hotch looked at Spencer, but Spencer stayed silent. “That’s all we have right now,” Hotch responded, “hopefully we’ll come across leads as we go.”
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It smelled like a garden around you. The memory reminded you of spring with your mother, tending to the vegetable garden.
The only difference was that instead of the sun beaming down on you, it was pitch black. The space surrounding you was so dark that you weren’t totally sure your eyes were open.
Your head was throbbing just above your right temple, and you observed your surroundings. Slowly, you lifted your arm until it hit a ceiling.
Not a ceiling. A lid. You were in a casket. You pressed one hand to your chest and tried to slow your breathing. Chances were that the casket was already buried beneath the surface of the earth, trying to open it could be catastrophic. You patted the pockets of your jeans, only to find your phone missing, so the team wouldn’t be able to trace the location.
Even if you had it, there likely wouldn’t be service six feet under.
Your team would find you. They had to find you.
They found Spencer, they found Emily, and they would find you.
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Spencer shifted in the passenger seat of the SUV, “You know, carbon dioxide poisoning is a rather peaceful way to die.”
“Reid,” Morgan said, turning the vehicle onto the main road, they had just finished scouring over another cemetery with still no sign of you.
He sighed and stared at his hands, “No, it’s good. We see so many people killed in so many different ways that it’s good that she won’t be in pain when she runs out of air.” He tried to convince himself.
Morgan cleared his throat, “We aren’t out of time yet, kid. We can still find her. Y/N’s smart, I’m sure she found a way to make more air or something.”
But they were running out of time, less than an hour remained on the timer set on all of their phones.
They pulled into the next cemetery, “There’s some fresh dirt over there, what are the names on the graves of people who were actually recently buried?”
Spencer starts to recite the names, and the two of them start to comb through the cemetery.
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You had done enough research on this case to understand what was going on. The light-headed feeling had started not long ago, but now you felt like you were spinning, despite the knowledge that you were stuck in place.
It was a high. Not unlike the good kids high. Except instead of trying to chase a feeling, you were dying.
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The timer went off when they were still scouring graves, shovels in hand. Derek stopped in his tracks, but Spencer kept going.
“Wait,” Spencer called out, reading the name on the card next to the fresh grave he was standing at, he moved to start digging. “Essie Dunbar was a thirty-year-old woman who was mistakenly buried alive in 1915,” he said, digging. “This has to be it.”
Derek called Hotch, putting the call on speakerphone so he could help Spencer dig. “Hotch, we got her, but she’s buried.”
“We’re on our way, Omaha police have one of the brothers in custody,” Hotch told Emily to have an ambulance dispatched.
What Reid knew that Derek didn’t was that it could take four hours to dig a grave by hand. The soil had been overturned, so maybe call it three. Your odds were still negligible. He didn’t stop, he didn’t stop when a caretaker came running at them, and he didn’t stop when Derek told him to get his digging equipment out here now.
Derek flashed his FBI badge to get what they needed. He had to physically pull Spencer back from the grave so the backhoe could dig, only going until there was less than a foot between them and the casket.
Spencer crudely attached a chain to the casket and the caretaker's vehicle. Carefully, the caretaker dragged the white container out of the earth and up a slant they had dug. It was locked shut, “Reid, move,” Derek ordered.
He leaned back and Derek fired at the lock, taking it off and opening the casket. Spencer gasped, there was blood on the side of your head, dried and raked through your hair. He was vaguely aware of Hotch and Emily arriving as they pulled you out of your satin prison. You had no pulse, but you were still warm. Immediately, Spencer started CPR.
“Reid let me do it,” Derek insisted.
What he was trying to say is that he shouldn’t have to be the one to try to save your life.
Morgan repeated himself and Spencer pulled away, allowing the other agent to immediately take over. There was a siren in the background, an ambulance. More people showed up, Spencer heard their voices, but he just kept watching you. CPR was effective if it was done shortly after your heart stopped, and even then, permanent brain damage was likely.
It had been eight minutes since they pulled you out of the ground. Clinically, you were dead for eight minutes before you gasped.
Spencer smoothed your hair back, away from your face, while you desperately tried to catch your breath. You weren’t moving, and Spencer started running through symptoms of hypoxia. His biggest fear was brain damage, that they had done more harm to you in bringing you back than they would have had you died.
The EMTs came running over to where everyone had gathered, dispersing the crowd, and placing an oxygen mask over your face. As they were loading you on the stretcher, you started trying to talk, reaching your arm out to your side. “Wait, what’s she saying?” JJ asked.
“Sometimes it’s hard to talk after CPR,” the male EMT said as they moved you closer to the ambulance. He listened to what you were saying, “It’s not coherent.”
Spencer didn’t move, all of the adrenaline that had been coursing through his body all day was leaving.
Aphasia. They were saying the lack of oxygen to your brain was causing aphasia. “No,” Emily said, realization dawning on her features as she strained to listen to you. You were whispering, rasping the same word over and over again. “She’s saying ‘Spence.’”
He stood quickly and looked at you, sure enough, you were reaching out your hand and whispering, “Spence, Spence.” Your voice no more than a whisper.
Grabbing your hand, Spencer squeezed it, “I’m here,” he answered. “It’s okay, it’s over,” he told you, moving your hair out of your face. Spencer secured your oxygen mask over your face as you tried to take it off, “You have to keep this on, angel.”
To his relief, you squeezed his hand back.
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You had been instructed to get some rest, but you couldn’t close your eyes. You asked Spencer to go back to the hotel and change his clothes because he smelled like dirt, and it made you nauseous. Your head had been bandaged, you’d been run through an MRI, and you did an EEG, so far, the only brain damage that had been incurred seemed temporary.
According to the doctors, the nausea and fatigue should wear off, but they hadn’t been able to fully assess if any permanent damage was done. At this point, the worst of your injuries had been caused by being given CPR, resulting in cracked ribs.
Despite your headache, you kept most of the lights on in your hospital room, not quite ready to be left in the darkness again. “Hey,” a voice called from your doorway, Spencer stood, waiting to be invited in. He was wearing different clothes, a button-up with a green cardigan thrown over it, and clean pants. “How are you feeling?”
A nasal cannula slightly restricted your movement, but you were sat up in the hospital bed, “Better than I was, but not perfect.”
He shook his head, walking in and taking a seat next to you, “No one expects you to be perfect right now.” Gently, he reached out and took your hand, skimming the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “They found the mother and the other son, and all three of them are going to go away for a long time,” he told you, speaking in the kind of hushed, reverent tones that are reserved for hospitals.
You sighed and tilted your head back, “Good,” you maundered. “That’s uh, good,” your voice was barely audible.
“So why do you look so worried?” He asked, leaning in closer to you.
In an attempt to dismiss his concern, you joked, “I think I owe Morgan some sort of life debt now.”
Spencer offered you a soft smile, “The two of you tend to trade those off, I’m sure you’ll find some way to make it up to him.” He inclined his head towards you as if to silently say, So what is it really?
You swallowed thickly, “I’m scared to close my eyes, Spence.”
His shoulders dropped, “oh, Angel,” he breathed. “Is there anything I can do for you?” He asked, looping a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “Wait, what are you doing?” He asked, watching you as you lifted yourself, so you were on one side of the bed.
Shyly, you patted the new empty half of the bed, inviting him to sit next to you.
He had no choice but to comply, he had the hardest time saying no to you. Leaning the bed back slightly, Spencer kicked off his shoes before he laid down next to you, wrapping an arm around you as you set your cheek on his shoulder.
Your body relaxed into his and you sighed, “Spence?” You murmured.
He pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, “Yes, angel?” He whispered back to you.
“Thanks for coming to save me,” you mumbled, slowly relaxing enough to fall asleep.
Spencer exhaled, “I’m always going to come to save you.”
part two
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certaimromance · 3 months ago
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ꫂ ၴႅၴ Allegation of Love.
Aaron Hotchner x Lawyer!reader
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Summary: When you arrive at the police station to defend a client's innocence, you don't expect the man accusing her to be the same man you've been dating for months.
Words: 1,6k.
TW: fem!reader. mentions of crime and serial killers. established relationship. aaron already divorced. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).
Note: I just love Hotch and wanted to write something with him here. To me, he is definitely the kind of man who is so tired from work that he tries not to mention it on a date (of course, after all the trauma he has been through).
Also, I'm warning you that this is all very chaotic because I'm doing a lot of serious writing lately and I need pink love, comforting and even uncomfortable chaos to relax. So I've been re-watching the first season of the show (sorry, I'm just a girl and not a fan of the last few seasons🥲) and I want to salvage a little of the Hotch we were introduced to before so much misfortune befell him.
♡ Enjoy! ♡
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It wasn't that you were annoying, particularly aggressive, or obsessed with being right, you just did your job to the best of your ability. Even if that meant being the villain of other people's stories and mentally going over every law to make sure it was obeyed.
The issue was that not everyone saw it the same way. In the workplace, where you managed, your exact memorization of the rules wasn't always appreciated if you were the one carrying the defense and doing everything to overthrow the other side's theories. For the same reason, you usually had to argue with cops, prosecutors, judges, and—on this occasion—even an FBI agent who wasn't happy with your presence.
You had in your hands an alleged confession of several murders delivered by your client under the coercion of the man who was interrogating her, without your presence there and with some pretty questionable methods to put her in an empty room without concrete evidence or an order from the judge. Unbelievably, it was a fairly common occurrence in your day-to-day work.
At least it was until the boss of the agent you were arguing with showed up and everything started to get complicated.
“What's going on here?”
The cross words and your intensity in emphasizing the injustice of the manipulation of the confession did not allow you to realize that there was someone else in the room. Much less that it was someone who looked exclusively at you until one of the police officers present cleared his throat.
“There has been a violation of the law.” You slowly turned to look behind you, and that's when you saw him.
Aaron stood stiffly, trying to look professional and serious, wearing a tie that matched your dress.
“There wasn't one, Hotch. We just got the confession.” Agent Morgan interjected into the silence provoked by the exchange of glances between you and his supervisor.
For the first time in the half hour you'd been there, you were completely silent. Even when two more agents showed up to try to defuse the situation, you didn't stop repeating the same arguments and insisting on your point. Now, however, you seemed to have lost the ability to speak.
There was a long pause before Aaron spoke carefully. “I'll take care of clarifying the situation.”
Trying to remain serious and stoic, he led you to one of the station's offices with the excuse that he wanted to talk about the case quietly so as not to attract the attention of his team. The strange thing was that he called you by name in front of everyone, without anyone having introduced you before. Maybe one of you two would have noticed if you had been a little less attentive to the other and more attentive to how the situation looked in the other's eyes.
“What are you doing here?” He asked as soon as he closed the door behind you, loosening the tension in his jaw a little, at least now it was just the two of you.
“Where's my 'Good to see you, sweetie. Please don't sue us' or anything like that?”
He raised an eyebrow at your comment, hoping you would take it seriously. Automatically and unconsciously, he had begun to move away from you and sat down on the other side of the desk, marking a distance between the two of you. Aaron had brought out his work side and you had hidden it at the mere sight of him.
“The woman your team pressured into confessing to a crime is my client.” You finally spoke in a serious tone, staring at him with some surprise. This wasn't the usual dynamic with him—you usually had a more relaxed side to him.
“Since when do you take cases like this?”
“Since it's been assigned to me.” You said, raising your shoulders. “One of the buffet partners is on vacation and left me to his clients, as I mentioned the other night.”
The other night when you were in his car, when he had his hand on your thigh as he drove home, when he smiled at you every chance he got to turn around and look at you. When the two of you weren't on completely different sidewalks and weren't supposed to act like strangers.
“This is pretty weird.” You said after watching him for a few seconds and noticing that he seemed lost in his memories. “I hope the agent I was arguing with isn't your friend. That would be awkward.”
Aaron looked at you, trying to figure out what could have happened before he showed up. He already knew you were a good lawyer, very capable and, above all, a good striker. It was too weird for him to think that you had been using your skills against his own team, against the friends he once wanted to introduce you to and that you had now met for the first time in the most unimaginable way.
“What?” You asked.
“Nothing.”
“You look at me like I'm a ghost.”
His brow furrowed again.
He didn't want to say out loud that everything related to his work had ended badly and was completely destroyed, just like his ex-marriage and any attempt to fix it. He had always felt comfortable with you because your work was just as demanding but less dangerous than his. You usually handled family cases, divorces, estates, and coordinating child care. You were away from the blood, the killers, and all the atrocities he lived with.
“I'm worried about you being in the middle of this. It can be dangerous.” He showed his concern for you and had to hold back from holding your hand.
“You should worry more about the lawsuit.” You pointed out in a tone somewhere between teasing and serious. You didn't like him worrying too much. “I'm very good.”
“This is serious.” He finally let his guard down and placed his hand on your knee from under the table, giving it a gentle touch.
That was the man you know and love.
“Me too, it's my job.”
“And you're making my job harder.” He pointed out with a small smile in response to yours.
What were the chances of your love life and work life crossing paths like this? You thought they were pretty slim, which is why you steered clear of talking about work when you were together.
You were just about to answer when you heard a tap on the door and one of the agents who had been watching you during your discussion came over to give Aaron some information about the profile. You couldn't understand him very well because he seemed to be speaking in code because of your presence.
“I'll be there in a moment, Rossi. Get the team together and we'll talk.” Hotchner finished earnestly. You could still feel the warmth of his touch on your knee. “I'm just finishing up here.”
As soon as he left the office, you looked at Aaron with surprise.
“Is he who you always mention?” You asked, and he nodded. “I thought it was 'Rosie,' not 'Rossi,' and that he was a woman.”
“Now I understand why you grimace when I mention his name.” He replied with some amusement. “You were jealous.”
Yes, especially when you found out that they'd shared a room once.
“Don't mock me, I'm about to sue you.” You advertiste in a fake threatening tone, pointing a finger at him. “And I don't care how handsome you look right now, I'll do my job.”
“Me too.” He replied, trying to ignore your compliment to keep a serious expression on his face. “And you look pretty too, I like that dress.”
The love between you seemed to be bubbling anyway, and it was impossible to hide it when you had breakfast together just a few hours ago. You went from making him coffee to offering him a lawsuit if he didn't agree with you.
“I know, I'll use this dress while I debunk your profile theory.” You got up from your seat suddenly after taking your phone out of your bag. It was then that you looked him in the eye. “Are you going to release my client now or should I call the judge?”
“You're not going to take a suspect in five murders. I'm not going to let her off the hook.” He copied your action.
“Give me the evidence then, love.”
Oh, to call him that at that point was a cheap shot, especially when you were the one who won because he had no concrete evidence, only theories and his complex profile.
“But stay away from her anyway, she can be dangerous. My agents will keep an eye on her.” He snorted after a few seconds, trying to find an argument, but failing.
At that moment, you gave him a little smile, proud of yourself and what you had accomplished. “See you at dinner?”
“Sure.” He replied without being able to help but give you a small smile in return. “But I'll pick the place.”
“Well, that's an argument I'll let you win.” You put your phone back in your bag and took a couple of steps towards the door, stopping when you saw him coming after you. “Can I kiss my opponent?”
“This is pretty unprofessional.” He said, putting a hand on your waist and leaning you against the door. Without hesitation, he kissed you firmly on the lips.
After a few minutes, the two of you walked out of the office as if nothing had happened, and the professional scene continued. Your heels clicked towards the exit with your client at your side, while Aaron met with his team, trying to find new ways to solve the case and refine the profile. The only problem was that he happened to be working with people who were very detail-oriented.
And, gosh, it was impossible not to notice the traces of your lipstick on his lips.
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reidsdimples · 5 months ago
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Can you do an angst Spencer and reader where they have an argument about their friends with benefits situation just before he goes to play baseball with Morgan and he is devastated when you don’t show but at the last minute he sees you in the crowd with a ‘Reid’ jersey on 😭😭
Situationship
My response to this request <3
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"Because, maybe I'm not ready for that step in this... situationship," you frown as you hold Spencer's face between your hands.
You're straddling him, only wearing his shirt which is open after the two of you essentially attacked each other for the last few hours. You were sore between your legs but still so turned on as you tugged on the ends of his hair. He looked up at you through thick eyelashes and doe eyes.
"It's not like that for me. I'm serious about you. I would never do what he did," he eases you off of him gently and stands. His dark jeans are open and your eyes follow his happy trail down until it disappears behind the waistband of his black boxers.
"I'm not saying you will..." you start. Your last friends with benefits situation ended in disaster.
"You can't keep comparing me to him. I think I've more than proven that my feelings for you go beyond superficial or sexual," he shakes his head and sighs.
"Spencer," you reach for him. He pulls away from your grip and enters his walk in closet.
You and Spencer had been friends for two years before one night, three months ago, things changed and... well it seemed the two of you had wanted each other for a while.
But before... you were friends with Finn for five years, a year of that was spent as a friend with benefits. Except he only led you to believe he wanted more in order to keep you in his bed. Things went south when he got some other girl pregnant. The friendship couldn't be saved after that. And in his own words, he didn't see you as worth anything more than sex.
You had to keep this line drawn with Spencer, you couldn't hope for more because what if he doesn't actually want you that way? What if he just thinks he does? Truthfully you didn't want your heart broken again and you didn't want to lose another friend.
He emerged from his closet with a lilac button up hanging over his brown jeans as his nimble fingers worked the buttons.
"You don't want more with me, I promise you," you plead with him. You pull your leggings on.
"How do you know?" Pain spread across his features in the form of furrowed eyes and puppy dog eyes that clenched your heart.
You didn't want to say you thought he was too good to be true. You didn't want to say he deserved better, because he did.
"That's what I thought," he sassed. "I know where your boundaries lie. I won't invite you to things with my team moving forward."
You could tell that the words were painful for him to say. His team was his family. You hadn't hung out with them before- for this reason.
"I want to support you, I just can't..." you knew your fear was controlling you.
"It's fine. Lock the door when you leave," he pulled on his FBI baseball cap and exited his apartment.
His words and abrupt exit felt like more of a goodbye than just him going to the game. You swallowed hard.
--
Spencer wiped sweat from his forehead. The game had been rough and he couldn't stop questioning why he agreed to participate. You weighed heavy on his mind.
He wrapped his hands around the bat, practicing his swing as he scanned the crowd. JJ and Garcia wave at him and he smiles. Suddenly his eyes spot a familiar head of hair, hair that had been curled in his hands hours before as you moaned beneath him.
You came.
You were sitting two bleachers behind his team with a big iced coffee and what appeared to be a baseball jersey. His baseball jersey. He hadn't worn it obviously as it was a gag gift from Derek.
But you wore it over your signature leggings and were smiling at him like you had resolved yourself to the reality of him affections.
Derek ushered him to the home plate where evidently the team depended on him to win the game. Wonderful.
He remembered his form that Derek taught him and squinted against the sun as he heard you cheering him on. His heart seized when he heard you cheering for him. the ball flew towards him and... miss.
"This guy's got nothing," one of the other team mates taunted.
"Come on baby!" You cheer, unyielding in claiming him. He took a deep breath and focused on the next pitch.
This time he swung just in time, sending the ball through the air with such force it took him a moment to remember what to do next.
"Run!" The team yelled.
"To first base baby!" Your voice broke through the noise. He dropped the bat and took off.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
He couldn't believe he was still running between the bases, the thought of scooping you into his arms spurning him forward. His eyes locked on the opposing teammate who was about to hurl the ball to first base as he picked up speed.
Derek ushered him in and there was nothing else to do but what he saw on TV- jump. So he did, a sliding jump sent him to home base before the catcher caught that ball.
Cheers erupted and he knew that he got the winning home run. Derek pulled him off the ground and hugged him as adrenaline pumped to his head. He was laughing and smiling as he met your eyes over Derek's shoulder.
You gave him a small wave and a bright smile.
"Come on, there's someone I want you to meet," he told his team and gestured towards you.
A sense of resolve settled within you as you moved to meet the people he called family. Maybe Spencer really was different. He pulled you under his arm and held you close as you all spoke amongst yourselves.
You knew when he left that apartment it was time to call the sexual stuff quits or take a chance and dive head first into him. You were glad you took a chance as he lazily circled his thumb over your hand while your fingers were interlocked.
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quixotical-lymbo · 2 months ago
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Helloooo! I've never requested before... so this is my first time. (Is this how I request? I'm still clueless with Tumblr)
If you can! Could you do TFO Sentinel Prime x Advisor Cybertronian Reader? 😽
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Pairing: Sentinel Prime x gn!advisor!Reader Rating: SFW-ish Summary: Working to keep the city of Iacon running as efficiently as possible proves to be difficult when the bot in charge has a tendency to throw a wrench in your plans. Warnings/Tags: cybertronian reader, implied toxic dynamics, brief mention of vomiting, one-sided attraction, or is it?, and corruption. Word Count: 1400+ words 
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Digits danced along the bright screen detailing the reports of data collected from the guards overseeing the mines. Your optics brightened as you processed the numbers and spotted a few increases. 
Shifting your weight from pede to pede, your lower derma was bitten as you narrowed in on the section of the report where the increase was evident. 
This meant another promotion was on the horizon, perhaps you should schedule a meeting with-
The datapad in your servos disappeared and when you snapped your gaze to glare at the thief, the heat of your glare was extinguished into an optic ridge lifting as your helm craned to look up at the face of your superior who came into view. 
"___." Hearing your destination roll off his glossa felt like a group of scraplets biting at your circuits. Eating away at you until you're nothing left but an empty husk of everything wrong with you. 
"...Sentinel," You greeted with a nod. Your optics locked onto the datapad before switching between the device and his face. Your arm lifted briefly as your digits curled slightly toward the pad. "May I…?" 
"Oh…this thing?" Sentinel rose the datapad above his helm, knowing your stature couldn't reach such heights. "You want this…why?" 
"It is mine." 
"And?" 
"I need it, sir." 
"Is that so?" Sentinel observed the way your dermas pursed and digits flexed stiffly. The mech felt a warm fuzzy feeling erupt in his chassis in seeing you squirm within his presence. The tip of his glossa swiped over his bottom derma, "Y'know, I've been meaning to ask you a few things and I think this is the perfect time to do so!" 
"But I-" 
"-what do you do in your spare time? Me, I like to…"
You squeezed your optics shut and blocked out the sound from your audials. Your fears grew as Sentinel turned on his heel and walked away with your datapad in servo. 
You really needed it back to be able to continue your work. Without the sensitive information on your personal datapad, you wouldn't be able to sit still for the rest of the chord unless you did something productive for the day.
"...___? You there?" 
You snapped out of your stupor and stared dumbly as Sentinel rose his own optic ridge. The corner of his intake curved upward as he shook the datapad in his servo, "Come on, I gotta show you something." 
Despite the alarm bells going off in your processor, you obeyed his silent order and followed him to his office. The large room made you visibly shrink into yourself as memories from long ago flashed in your helm.
This was the place that was a stark reminder of where you learned...that for the first time. 
 
"Where are we going, ma'am?" 
Airachnid didn't turn to look at you, not that she needed to, and simply said, "You'll see." 
You looked around the unfamiliar area. Weird, thin blade-like things sprouted from the ground and were abundant in the mountainous terrain the two of you were trekking on. 
You were halted by a servo placed in front of your chassis and when you glanced up to see Airachnid's digit pointing in a direction you followed it to see-
Your intake twisted in knots.
Sentinel, Quintessons, ships, so many ships. 
Your internal fans kicked in as your frame began heating up. You felt dizzy, nauseous even, and you somehow found the strength to lock your blurry optics to the larger femme.
The corners of her dermas stretched upward. 
You turned your helm and vomited. 
You flinched when a heavy servo landed on your shoulder pad.
"Ah!" You stumbled forward as Sentinel pushed you along toward the large windows overlooking the city. You stood straight when the servo on your shoulder lowered to the area just above your aft. 
A shudder dragged its cold digit up your back strut. The false Prime's laugh brought forth a second. 
"It's been sometime since you became my assistant, huh?" Sentinel began. "I remember the first time I met you! Heh, can't believe you couldn't look at me in the optic because of how nervous you were…but after you warmed up to me, you were quite the yapper." 
You acknowledged his words with a nod. The digits rubbing against your back paused as the expression on Sentinel's face plate darkened. 
"I missed that." 
You broke your neutral expression to look at him. 
"You, being chatty and all, now you're….boring," Sentinel patted your aft and snickered when you jumped. He turned away from you and walked over to his desk, plopping on the chair he threw the datapad on his desk and slightly shifted his legs to leave them comfortably spread. 
"What changed?" As if feigning ignorance, the mech had the nerve to appear sad. 
You stalled for a moment, optics shifting and digits digging into the palm of your servos, "I…um, got busy. It's no easy feat helping someone like you–"
Sentinel's optics narrowed and you quickly sputtered out, "-someone as famous, uh, fabulous, and..um…and well-loved run a city!" 
"Ok, ok, I get it, really." Sentinel Prime waved a servo. "You're…'busy.'" 
"Yes, sir." 
"Hm." Sentinel's optics racked over your frame. "You work a lot so you must be tired, c'mere and get off your pedes for a while." 
"Oh, I shouldn't." 
"I don't remember asking, ___." Sentinel moved one servo to rest on his lap. "Sit." 
You inched over to the desk and made your way around it, but your wrist was caught and before you knew it, you stumbled back and fell onto the mech's lap. You immediately moved to get off but an arm snaked around your midsection plating and caged you against a broad chassis. The heat radiating off of the mech behind you caused you to stiffen. 
"There you go, sweetspark." Sentinel cooed. "Let's continue where we left off, 'kay?"
"Now, what's so important it's managed to steal your attention away from me?" 
"...there's been an increase in miner productivity," You mumbled. 
"...that's what's got you in a tizzy?" Sentinel mulled over what you said before peeking over at the datapad disregarded at the corner of his desk. A noise left him as he nodded, "Oh, right…the method you mentioned in the last meeting we had…it worked?" 
"Yes," You slowly crept out of your shell. "Allowing the miners to work without tight restrictions, more breaks, and even adding more recreational areas for their enjoyment has yielded good results." 
You paused to check Sentinel's face plate. He was leaning back against the chair, the side of his helm resting against two digits as a soft smile etched onto his dermas. When you hesitated, Sentinel gestured for you to continue as his other servo rested on your hip. 
"...and I-" You continued after gaining the green-light and divulged into your plan. Sometimes, you would catch the blue and gold mech glancing between your animated servos and the lower half of your face plate. Despite this, you felt…safe. Safe enough to ramble on and on about your plans and future aspirations for the city. 
"...and I've been thinking, why not try to use some of my free time to look through our database to find information on where the matrix is-" 
The servo on your hip dug into your plating causing you to hiss. Sentinel heard and removed his servo from you, "Ah, sorry." 
He didn't sound like he meant it. 
"Matrix?" Sentinel inquired with a loop-sided grin. "You what to try and…find it?" 
"Well, maybe, I don't know the logistics, but if I can find a lead maybe you won't have to continue the deal with-" 
"-shh, shh, shh," Sentinel cupped the side of your face and leaned down. The distance between you two caused your optics to grow in size, you don't even know if you're breathing anymore. 
"Let's talk about something other than work…hey, what kind of drink do you like? Wait, wait,  better yet, let me get us some. I'll buy the whole bar out." 
You couldn't find the words to deny his request and watched as Sentinel pressed a digit to the side of his helm to comm some bot to bark his request. 
 
��this'll be a long evening. 
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😼 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. banners by @kodaswrld !!
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lanabuckybarnes · 4 months ago
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Would you write a plus size reader w either bucky or steve(or both) where they are her first real relationship and she gets scared that she doesn't deserve to be with either of them and so she tries to push them away so she doesn't get hurt but instead they show her why she is their person.... like tooth rotting fluff and the filthiest smut..... if that's okay if not no worries
| All Yours, Only Yours |
18+ Minors DNI
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✧Pairing✧ Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader
✧Warnings✧ A lil angsty, Sharon being a big bully (like seriously you’re 50 and you’re bullying someone? ick), Name calling, Angry Buck, Crying, Bucky is a simp, Confessions, Marking, Dry humping, Oral (F), Fingering (F), Teeny bit of cum play, Dirty talk, Unprotected PinV, Praise, Petnames, My shitty writing — again very tame for me but i didnt want to go overboard. If there any more I’ve neglected to add please let me know.
✧Word Count✧ 4.3K
✧Author Note✧ I really hope you enjoy this and I've done your request justice, I honestly tried my best but idk…Anyways!!! Much love to everyone, please let me know what you think. Love ya xxx
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“Still not answering?” Natasha asks from her spot in the cockpit, concern evident from the wrinkle between her brows.
“Nope” he spits his reply, reeling from the whole ordeal. He thrusts his phone into his jean pocket, sick to the back teeth of nothing but a black screen greeting him instead of your sweet little messages.
“Did you piss her off or something?” Sam tries to lighten the mood but is swiftly shut down, his hands rising in surrender at the killer glare the brunette shot his way.
“Calm down everyone, we’ll be home soon so we can figure this out” Steve, the voice of reason commands order within the small confines of the jet. He sits, a gloved hand rubbing over his friend's shoulder trying to reassure his muddled brain but to no avail.
Bucky is pissed. He’s pissed and he’s worried sick. A week he’s been gone for and he’s missing you like crazy. The only issue? You are ignoring him, straight up ghosting his brooding ass which is completely unlike you. Often on missions when Bucky clicks his phone on he’s greeted with a flurry of messages from you; photos of little birds you see on your walks, photos of alpine taken at odd angles and constant little messages that make his heart full and ready to continue his painstaking missions—none of it, just a notification from your favourite restaurant offering a discount to keep him happy.
As soon as this jet landed he was going to get to the bottom of what was going on and then he was going to cuddle you to death as punishment. Not that he’d let anyone else know that.
One Week Earlier…
Beep beep beep. Bucky’s alarm sounds at the ungodly hour of five am, his groan following. He didn't want to get out of this bed, he was too warm, his huge body wrapped around yours. Your movements spurred his own, your arm reaching over to switch off his alarm while he pushed himself into a sit, thoughts already on the mission afoot.
“Morning,” your raspy voice purrs, bringing his attention back to you. His eyes fall to your face; following the slope of your puffy cheeks up to your barely open eyes, your hues peeking through only enough to tease him. Putting his weight on his right arm he’s on top of you before you can blink, his head tucked into the crook of your neck, peppering tiny kisses along the warm skin.
“Morning princess,” he bites back his yawn, shifting so his hips slot in their spot between your plush thighs, loving the way they wrapped around his narrow waist just the way he loved. Practice truly did make perfect. His dark vibranium fingers drifted from your collarbone, over the swell of your breast until it found its favourite perch on your hips.
“So fucking pretty” he breathes, his pupils dilating to let more of you in — until you pushed him away.
“You gotta get ready Mr” you giggle, moving your foot so you could push him further away, ruining his plan B of pinning you down by your hips.
“Don’t remind me…”
His cold left hand hooks around your ankle, pushing at it until your knee hinged, bending up and out. A suspicious hardness presses against you, a wicked smile on your boyfriend’s face.
“I mean it Buck we can’t, Nat will be kicking that door down any minute” he groans at your words knowing that you are completely right. That lock had been replaced an embarrassing amount of times because of that exact situation. You hated rejecting him, knowing that he could easily put you back to sleep until midday if he wanted. After a small standoff between you both you warn him again, an arch in your brow and a growl behind his name.
“You’re such a little tease, you know that?”
You laugh, sitting up, watching him skulk around the room in nothing but his grey Calvin Kleins, “I haven’t done anything!”
“Sure you haven’t” he argues, moving over to you again, his metal fingers looping under your chin to tilt your head back to gaze up at him, “Looking so fucking sexy in the morning and I can’t fuck you stupid. That’s not teasing that’s damn near criminal.”
You groan, rolling your eyes at your pouty 106-year-old man. You inch closer to his mouth, a sickly sweet definitely not bratty smirk on your face. “Get your ass ready.”
“Fine…but only because you looked so fucking sexy ordering me around,”
“Bucky!” You shout after him, blush on your full cheeks. He only smirks over his shoulder, pushing his briefs to the floor at the entrance to the bathroom, giving you a full view of his posterior.
You get up too, knowing you had been awake too long to fall asleep again. You get ready with the shower as background noise, pulling on some workout clothes. Today you decided you’d try out the gym right here in the compound, you’d been to many different ones in the past; often polluted with the smell of days-old sweat and men reeking of testosterone, grunting and groaning at weights you could only dream of lifting.
An hour later, after waving Bucky off on his week-long mission you were in the gym.
“Hey” you smile as you pass Sharon, her blonde hair whipping as she ducks and weaves to dodger imaginary punches the bag throws out before throwing a couple of her own. She offers you a tight-lipped smile, her eyes straying from your face down your body. She takes note of your long top and shorts that settle around mid-thigh compared to her sports bra and tiny shorts — her flat stomach and sculpted legs on display.
God you wish you had just as much ventilation. Just as you go to place your earphones in your ears you hear a scoff coming from Sharon’s direction. You pay it no mind, setting the treadmill for a nice incline and pace, pressing the timer until it shone with the time you wanted.
The treadmill slowed for the cooldown. Your eyes moved from the display in front to glance over your shoulder, the gym was empty. You grab your bottle only to realise thanks to your distraction you'd finished off your water. You stop the treadmill and hop off, making a beeline for the kitchen. The walk to the kitchen from the gym wasn’t that long but with the feeling of your sweat culminating in places you didn’t want it to be it was almost torturous.
“I couldn’t believe it when I saw her,”
A gaggle of hushed laughs comes from the kitchen, stopping you. A familiar dread coils in your stomach, reminding you of when you were young, the children pointing and laughing — joking at your expense.
“she must been on that treadmill for about five minutes and she was all like huff huff” she laughs obnoxiously “Her face was like a big tomato, I almost died trying to keep myself from laughing” Sharon continues.
The group cackles again at your expense, almost doubling as Sharon makes the huffing noise again. You cling to your shirt, pulling it from sticking to your body. These women you thought were friends did just what everyone else did.
“She’s pathetic, I don’t know what Bucky sees in her” Your heart stops. That little devil on your jumps and cheers at the confirmation of what it has been telling you since the start of your relationship with Bucky. You were never enough.
“I can’t wait for him to dump her once he gets sick of her wide load.”
Tears fall on their own accord but you don't register them, too busy inside your head being suffocated by every doubt and self-conscious thought you ever had since you confessed your feelings for the super soldier. You didn't deserve Bucky and everyone thought that too.
Back at your room, freshly clean. You scrolled through your messages from Bucky. The little hearts next to his messages no longer felt genuine like he was only doing it merely to save your feelings from being hurt. You were nothing but a burden that he was forced to bear; it wouldn’t be long before like Sharon said, he got sick of the clinginess and the need for reassurance and broke up with you.
Well, you weren’t going to be a burden any longer. You wouldn’t let him break your heart first. You turned your phone off, tucking it into your bedside drawer.
“Bucky wait!” Sam calls from the quinjet but it goes ignored. Bucky’s face is twisted in annoyance as he takes wide, purposeful steps towards the tower doors. He was going to find you and you were going to tell him why the fuck you were ignoring him.
He ignores the shouts of his name as Nat, Steve and Sam follow him indoors, smashing the elevator button with his thumb and stepping inside. Once on your floor, he stormed like a charging bull to your room, slamming a gloved fist on your door in a poor excuse for a knock.
The loud knocking from the other end of the room had you jumping back in your seat, the slee overtaking you gone in an instant. Your heart lurched at the familiar face, worn from exhaustion and malice clear from the scrunching of his forehead and tick in his cheek muscle.
“Oh hello, where have you been?” Bucky snaps, glaring down at you as you use the door as a shield from his scrutinising eyes. Here it comes, the moment you’d prepared for all week. You don’t think you’ll go back to dating apps, too many weird me—
“You know how worried I was when you didn't answer me all week?”
Huh. “Huh?”
“‘Huh?’ Are you joking? You ghosted me, left me scared to death on a mission halfway across the globe and all you can say to me is huh!” His blue eyes glisten and you look at them closer. There was no anger there, only concern and fear culminating in swirls across his blue orbs, rearing its head in rage across Bucky’s face.
“Bucky I—” you try but you can’t find the words, each syllable sticks in your throat, balling up until it feels like you can no longer breathe. The week of bottled-up emotions spills forth at the sight of him — at the revelation that he was utterly terrified. Tears fall from your eyes before you know it, your lip wobbling as you keep trying to speak.
Bucky’s shoulders tense at the sight of tiny tears falling over your full cheeks, guilt replacing his earlier pain,
“Fuck c’mere baby” he pulls you close, bending at an almost uncomfortable angle just to hold you as close as humanly possible.
“I'm so sorry for being so annoyed but you have to see why I was so scared something had happened to you. You left me on read for an entire week and blanked my calls. That isn’t you, you know how scary that was for me?” He whispers so softly, backing you up to sit on your bed.
In his arms, surrounded by his warmth and scent the week you had fell from your mouth like alphabet soup, from the gym to Sharon to how hard it was to ignore your phone knowing that Bucky would’ve been calling you every single day but you did it to protect your own heart. Nothing was kept a secret.
“I’ll kill her,” he growls when you finish, muscles tightening even more around you.
“Buck.”
“Right…sorry, I won't kill her” He lied between his teeth, well sort of. He wouldn’t actually kill Sharon but he knew you'd be upset if he did anything to her which he was indeed planning to do but to save you any more pain for the evening, to keep that teeny tiny smile on your face he lied.
“What makes her think she has any fucking right to speak on other people’s appearance anyway?”
“She wasn't lying…” it came out in the tiniest little voice, maybe your way of silently hoping he didn't hear it and he wouldn’t have if it weren't for his super soldier ears.
Gripping onto your wrists Bucky flipped your world in an instant, the breath leaving your lungs as your back makes contact with the bed, your wrists caught on either side of your head.
“Are you lying to me doll?” He says, raising a brow at you.
“No…”
“You are! You're lying right to my face,” he argues, pressing your wrists further into the mattress below. Your eyes fall shut as his face inches closer to yours.
“Look at me princess,” he waits until you open both eyes again, looking up at him as if he strung the stars in the sky “There is not a single thing that I'd change about you and I mean that. I fell in love with you the way you are now, you aren't some bitch that gets off on making fun of others. I fell head over damn heels for you because you are you.”
His eyes sparkle with adoration, his hands running up and down your body softly. The juxtaposition of metal on one side and warmth on the other sends shivers up your spine.
“I love you,” he breathes, leaning down again till your lips graze his. A teasing smile pulled on the pink corners of his mouth, a similar glint in his eyes, “you know that right?”
“Yes,” you nod, pushing up to close the distance between your mouths but he pulls away.
“I don't think you do,”
“I do Buck I promise.”
“Well…” he began, the glint in his eyes dulling as want engulfed the colour, “let me make sure.”
Bucky takes his time. He has to knowing that you're feeling small. Slowly his lips slot with yours, ushering out sweet little sounds to replace the broken ones that still thrum fresh in his mind.
“I love you,” he says again, capturing your hitched gasp with his tongue as he pushes it past the seam of your mouth, the tip flicking against your own to entice it to mingle. Slowly but surely the tension drips from your shoulders, your arms moving from his grip to trail up over his rigid stomach and chest. They sink below the shoulder pads of his jacket, pushing it off his broad frame and onto the floor beside the bed. Your hands paw at the exposed skin on his arm, fingers squeezing, nails scraping over the corded muscle.
“All of yours…all of it.”
Each time the seal of your mouths broke you chase them, planting kisses teeming with nothing but raw desire onto kiss-bitten lips. The words that Sharon said are long gone from your mind now, replaced by the man in front of you. Everything you smell, taste, touch and see — it's all him.
The brunette slips off his glove; his warm and cold, metal hand grips your hips, pulling you up into his lap with a squeak.
“You feel that?” He grunts, moving from your mouth down your face to your neck. His lips suck and his teeth nibble, marking you, proving to anyone around that dare dispute his love for you again. With undeniable strength he grinds you down into a sizeable bulge poking from his tight jeans, he hisses at the contact, letting a hand fall to your ass with a small spank.
Your arousal seeps through your thin panties making them stick to your dainty folds; your clit buzzes at the delicious scratch the metal of his zip brings you — a gasp catching in your throat every time your neglected nub catches the pull tab.
As much as he worshiped the way you dry-humped his cock, soaking the front of his jeans. Bucky is desperate. After a week of no contact, not even a tiny emoji heart never mind a raunchy photo, he needs something — anything. And he's going to get it.
“Get on the bed” he demands, pushing at you ever so slightly. “Panties off.”
You do as you are told, fingers frantically hooking into the waistband of your underwear, rolling the material over your thick thighs until they hook around a single ankle.
“Spread those legs for me baby, lemme see that sweet little cunt.”
You hesitate for a second, your legs twitching to open but knees knocking again as you close them. Blown pupils snap onto your face his jaw clenched hard and his nostrils flared. Before you can react his calloused hands settle gently, luring you into a false sense of security.
They soothe down your thighs as his blue eyes study you. Inch by inch his dull nails tap over your beautifully wide thighs until he's back at your kneecaps. With a soft unassuming smile, bucky pushes your legs wide, a rush of oxygen leaving you as your sopping folds are exposed to the cool air of the room. He doesn't give you a chance to breathe before a warm hand smacks over your wet folds, your body jerks, an unabashed moan flying from your parted lips.
“Don't fucking deny me this” he growls, fire roaring in his eyes. “You ghosted me for a week, now you're gonna lie there all pretty and let me eat this sweet fucking cunt.”
You nod, biting your lip. At the first presence of him between your legs, his hot breath billowing over your labia, your eyes roll into the back of your skull. Over each fold, ridge and crevice his breath fans, a shiver rolling over your spine each time; without warning he lays his tongue flat and wide, licking a strip from hole to clit. His tongue disappears and he does it again, guttural sounds falling from him at your taste mixing with the sharp trills you let out.
“Sing for me baby, let me know how good I'm making that pretty pussy feel” He delves in like a man starved, devouring your cunt as though it were his first and last ever meal on earth. He'd die happily if it were.
You were a mess, a mess of pleading cries. Your legs shake against his powerful hold, your hands grip his unruly brunette locks. Letting his hands drop from your thighs he stops his slurping to lay a soft, sweet peck on your raw clit. He smiles up at you, his face glistening with your juices visible thanks to the city lights peeking in through your open windows. Your mind wandered, wondering if the people in the building across could see the way Bucky fucked his tongue into you, curling the long muscle up to press against that ridged spot on your upper walls — he hit it with ease every time.
Using your distraction as an advantage bucky moves a hand to join his mouth, sliding his fingers in alongside his tongue for a second before he pulls his tongue from you. He moves, looming over you with a massive shit-eating grin at how much he unravelled you. you should've been embarrassed at how wet his face was; slick ran from his stubbled upper lip over and below his chin. You had done that to him and he wore it proudly. His fingers push deeper and curl out, coaxing the coils in your stomach to snap.
“Come on baby I know you feel it” he speeds up, the sound of your messy pussy almost as loud as your harsh breaths and whimpers.
“Buckyyy” you squeal, gripping at anything you can.
“That's it, baby…you're squeezing around my fingers, are you gonna cum?”
You nod but it's not enough for your man. He dips, nipping at a pebbled nipple and that's all it takes for those tightly coiled ropes to pull taut and snap. A sound you've never heard from yourself erupts from your lungs, your fingers clutching at bucky, the sheets, anything. Stars peppered your vision, blocking out the smug image of your boyfriend, blood rushing in your ears muffling his words of praise.
“Come back to me baby, that's it, good girl. such a good girl” Bucky coos, his fingers slipping out to rub lazily at your clit. He keeps going until you jerk harshly in his hold.
“You did so well, such a good fucking girl cumming like that for me” He praises, kissing your cheek and then your mouth, a smirk pulling at his lips when you moan at your taste.
You flash him a big dopey smile in return, your eyes hazy and your plump little cheeks flushed. You look gorgeous; Bucky had seen many things in his long drawn-out life but nothing could ever compare to how you looked fucked out beneath him.
He would stay like this forever…if his cock wasn't aching for release.
He stands, fiddling with his belt and fly until it comes loose. He wastes no time in pushing them both past his round ass and onto the floor, his cock springing free. His shirt goes next, thrown somewhere in your small room letting you get the full experience of what Bucky had to offer you. Layers of corded muscle ripple beneath his silky but scarred skin, his chest peppered in tiny curly hairs that sink below his sternum and over his abs where they begin to thicken until they finish, well trimmed at the base of his thick, heavy cock.
His eyes never stray from your body as he takes himself in his hand, pumping once, twice, his thumb catching the precum leaking from his tip. He kneels back between your welcoming legs, rubbing his slick thumb over your lips. A hushed chuckle vibrates in his chest as you suck the thumb into your mouth, eagerly licking his taste from the digit.
“Such a dirty girl,” you giggle, pulling back until his thumb slips out of your mouth with a pop. “Do you think you can handle one more hm? Can you let me fuck that little hole?”
“yes Buck” you smile, your eyes falling shut as he kisses you again.
“good girl” he growls, moving your legs over his own before grabbing a pillow to squish under your hips. With one hand he pushes the head of his length through your mess, dipping into your hole before running back up over your clit. He does it a few times, occasionally slapping his cock against you, praising each tiny sound you let out.
“Please Buck” You toss your head back, grinding your hips up to meet nothing. At this rate, you were going to come to nothing more than his teasing.
“Please what?” Oh he's a piece of shit. He knows what you want because he wants it too. He waits for a beat, enjoying your huffs of frustration. “Tell me and I'll do it.”
With the last of your sanity, you cry out, “fuck me buck ple—ah”
You slap a hand over your mouth as he spears into you, stretching you like he does time and time again. It never gets any easier with a size like Bucky’s; his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust and your walls sing at the almost painful stretch.
Bucky’s thrusts are delightfully slow, letting you feel each drag and push, each rigid vein on his pulsing cock. There is no fucking involved, he's making love, making sure you know that he would spend eternity wrapped up in your body no matter what size you are. The deep coloured marks along your neck and between your thighs would attest to that.
“Fuck” he moans, mouth gaping. “Don't think ill last long princess” His vibranium fingers fall to your soft belly, skating over the smooth skin to your full hip.
He squeezes hard enough to leave marks, “fucking mine.”
His thrusts speed up, his head snapping back and eyes rolling. His balls bounce rhythmically against your ass, the bulbous head of his cock smashing into the end of your cunt where a dull ache forms — a warning of future hurt when you wake tomorrow. You don't care, not when his free hand dips between you both, pulling back the hood of your sensitive nub and flicking it over and over.
He feels the way you tighten around him, holding him in a vice grip, “hold it princess, just a little longer come on”
“I can't Bucky please” you whimper in response.
“Yes, you can baby—oh fuck I'm close” his weight falls atop yours, smothering you in him. His hips stutter, his balls pulling up towards his body.
“Cum now, soak my big fucking dick.”
The slamming of the headboard ceases when his thrusts slow to shallow grinding, his mouth swallows any sounds you let out.
“Such a good fucking girl for me—shit” he sighs, slips from you with a hiss.
“Buck—”
“Shh pretty girl you're alright” he holds you close for a while, holding you tight to his broad body. Tears fall from your cheeks but he swipes them away. You don't know why you ever doubted Bucky, he's the only constant in your life.
“I love you” He whispers as the blood rushing in your ears settles, running through your veins in exhaustion.
“I love you too”
“Don't you ever listen to those idiots again, because I will show you over and over what you mean to me” Bucky promises with a kiss on the crown of your head.
You smile, laying your own lazy kiss over your thumping heart. You like the sound of that.
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taeyongdoyoung · 4 months ago
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teddy bear
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summary: you discover your best friend's dirty little secret but after the initial anger passes, you are excited... pairing: haechan x reader genre: smut, best friends to lovers warnings: non-consensual filming/hidden camera, perv!haechan (wbk), but ALSO perv!reader, allusions to masturbation, lowkey dubcon but not rlly, face-sitting, eating out, blowjob, unprotected piv sex, boob touching, switch!haechan, inexperienced!reader, pet names, oh yeah and kissing (ew) author's note: idk what this is but 🎵 i've been a nasty guuuurl, nasty, is somebody gonna match my 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴 🎵 word count: 2k
If there is one person in this universe you’d trust with your life, that person would be Haechan. He’s always been there for you, through the highs and lows of your life. So, when you discover how he’d betrayed you, you feel like your world comes crashing down on you with all of its weight and injustice.
You accidentally find something you’d never expected would happen to you. A hidden camera in the teddy bear Haechan had gifted you a year ago. You can’t believe it. You don’t perceive yourself as a particularly interesting person. You don’t do much in your room. Except…
The idea that Haechan had seen you in your most private, vulnerable moments sends chills down your spine. You feel mortified, embarrassed but most of all, angry. How could he do this to you? How could he film you in secret without your permission? How could he betray your trust like that? And worst of all, how could a part of you get excited about that?
You invite your best friend Haechan over on a whim. With the initial plan to confront him, maybe threaten him with this newfound knowledge a little, things take an unexpected turn.
“Hey, darling, how have you been?” Haechan asks as he enters your apartment.
“Oh, don’t you ‘darling’ me, you creep!” you immediately accuse him.
“What did I do?” he tries to play it dumb but you can see it in his eyes that he knows exactly what crime he’s guilty of.
“I found the camera…inside the teddy bear,” you get straight to the point, dragging him by the hand to your room and showing him the evidence.
Maybe this is unwise. Maybe a sane person would go to the police rightaway. Maybe you should file a restraining order. But the thought of living without Haechan feels more painful than the thought he’d done something so sick. Maybe you’re just as sick in the head.
“So, you found it,” he states the obvious.
“Aren’t you gonna say anything to defend yourself? Like, maybe it came like that and you didn’t know it had a camera,” you attempt to find a logical explanation.
“Oh, I knew, alright,” Haechan confesses.
You punch his arm lightly, not meaning to actually hurt him, but he’s taken aback nonetheless.
“How could you do this to me? I trusted you with my life,” you cry out, your eyes welling up with tears.
“I promise no one else has seen the footage. I would never show it to anyone.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” you sniffle. “You saw me…naked. No, scratch that, you saw me touching myself, saw me crying all alone, saw me at my most pathetic.”
“There was never anything pathetic about you, precious. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen and I’m so sorry I made. I just…admire you so much that I did something wrong. I know it’s unhealthy that I want to look at you all the time but I couldn’t help it. I’d do anything to make you forgive me,” Haechan promises.
“Anything?” you ask, your eyebrow raising in interest, a sinful idea already forming in your head.
“You name it. If you wanna report me to the police, go for it, as long as you forgive me one day.”
“I’m not gonna report you,” you say calmly. “But I do want a favour.”
“Whatever you wish, sweetheart,” Haechan blinks at you with so much affection and dedication you know you’re making the right choice.
“You’ve probably seen me…well, struggling to reach an orgasm,” you murmur shyly. “When I feel it coming, my fingers get so tired and I just…stop in the middle of nowhere. I was wondering if you can help me with that?”
You phrase it as a question but it’s actually a demand. If Haechan wants your forgiveness so badly, he’s gonna have to earn it.
“Sit on my face,” he offers.
“Huh?”
“Go on, then. I’ll help you out, just relax and let me take care of you.”
Fuck, his words have such an immediate effect on you that you rush to take off your shorts and comfortable panties you wear at home and you don’t have the time to feel self-conscious.
Haechan seems more eager than you and pulls you closer than ever. As you make yourself comfortable on top of him, he quickly dives in, licking your pussy with so much enthusiasm that you already know he’s gonna make you feel so good. You grab his hair a bit harshly and he moans against your folds, the sound sending vibrations to your core. Arching your back, you search the long-awaited release as Haechan digs his nails into your thighs, holding onto you for support. His tongue fucks into you from below in ways you didn’t think possible. You cry out his name unabashedly as you come all over his too pretty for this world face.
You collapse backwards, head falling near his legs. As the haze of your orgasm begins to wear off, you notice Haechan’s hard cock straining against the confines of his jeans. Another idea has already been planted in your brain.
“Am I forgiven yet?” Haechan wonders with an adorable pout. You want to kiss him stupid but decide to torture him a little longer.
“Not yet,” you chuckle. “But it’s a good start. Now, I want you to teach me how to suck a cock.”
His pained expression tells you volumes.
“W-why?” he stutters.
“Oh, I don’t know. I’m not very experienced and I wouldn’t want to embarrass myself in front of guys. So, show me the right way.”
Haechan gulps anxiously. Is he jealous of these hypothetical future guys. You don’t tell him that he is the only guy you want to touch, that would give his ego an unnecessary boost. And you don’t want that. You want him to think that him being forgiven is dependent on whether he does as you wish.
“Okay. Well, to be honest, most guys just prefer fucking a girl’s mouth, or so I’ve heard. So, you wouldn’t have to do much. But I can still show you the basics.”
You nod eagerly and unbutton his jeans. Haechan gently guides you to his cock.
“Lick the tip. You don’t have to fit it all in your mouth.”
You follow his instructions excitedly and envelop your lips around his length. It’s not super long but its thickness poses a delicious challenge. Your mouth can’t possibly widen any further so you also start touching him with your small hands.
“That’s good, you’re doing so well for me,” Haechan praises you and his words make you even more enthusiastic. Your eyes teary and your throat hurting but he strokes your hair so sweetly and you must be fucked up because you don’t want this to end.
Licking and groping to the best of your abilities, his release comes sooner than expected. Are you really that good or is he just whipped for you? You try to swallow his cum but there is so much of it that as soon as your lips leave his cock so you can breathe properly, his cum comes spilling down your chest.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” Haechan apologizes for making a mess.
You shake your head and can’t resist the temptation any longer so you crash your mouth against his in a sick, feverish kiss. He appears taken aback but kisses you back with just as much passion, if not more. He buries his hand in your hair, tilting your head back, practically fucking your face with his own. He bites your lips and touches your cheek with his other hand, as you completely melt for him.
“You like this?” Haechan chuckles in disbelief once he breaks the kiss. “You like being kissed by your best friend who’s been getting off on footage of you in secret?”
“Does that make me a weirdo?” you grin wickedly.
“Oh, definitely. But I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Haechan says.
“I want you to fuck me,” you blurt out suddenly, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Are you sure?” his eyes widen in shock.
“Please?”
“Your wish is my command, princess,” Haechan responds. “Do you want to be on top?”
“I don’t know, whatever works best for you,” you really don’t care about the positions, you just need this freak inside of you. Okay, you realize you’re just as freaky but oh well.
“Wanna try riding me and if you get tired, I’ll take over?” Haechan suggests softly.
“Alright, let’s try that,” you agree quickly and take your top off.
“Oh,” Haechan licks his dry lips in surprise.
“What?”
“You’re not wearing a bra,” he states the obvious.
“So? I’m at my own home, it feels more comfortable that way.”
“I know but…you asked me over knowing that I’ve put a camera in that bear and you’re not wearing-”
“Haechan, do me another favour and stop overthinking, okay?”
He nods again, still staring at your boobs.
“Do you want to touch them?” you laugh because his face looks priceless.
“May I?” Haechan asks politely. God, he’s so cute you want to eat him up. He’s also the most perverted guy you’ve ever met. So basically perfect for you.
“Yes, do whatever you want, I trust you,” you admit even though it is probably foolish. But it is true.
Haechan envelops his hands around your tits as you climb on top of him, letting his cock slide in. You’re so wet for him it happens so smoothly, as if you were meant to fit in together. He plays with your nipples gently and you ride him, moving your hips up and down.
“You can be more rough, I’m not gonna break,” you tell him honestly.
Haechan isn’t sure exactly what you mean by that but tries his best to not disappoint you. He pinches your nipples, squeezing your boobs a little more harshly and eliciting sweet moans out of you. Then, he bucks his hips upwards to meet your wetness, fucking into you from below with impressive speed and eagerness. You are beginning to grow tired, chasing an orgasm that feels so close, yet out of reach.
“Please, take over, I don’t think I can do this,” you pout pitifully.
“Sure, angel,” Haechan flips you over so that you are now lying on your back and fucks you hard and sweet.
“Make me come, Haechan, please, please, please,” you beg him desperately.
“Let go for me, baby, that’s it,” he encourages you and who are you to argue with him?
Your orgasm hits you so suddenly and you feel yourself babbling nonsense. Soon after, he releases his seed inside or you, making you lose your mind even further. You feel so deliciously full you wish you could stay trapped in this moment forever.
Haechan slides out of you and brings you a bottle of water. You greedily accept it and after your thirst is satiated, give the rest to him. He drinks a bit and then leaves it on the bed. You look at him without saying anything and he does the same for a while. Haechan strokes your hair and you lean into his comforting touch. The silence is in no way uncomfortable but you are still plagued by thoughts. What’s next? Pure friendship is out of the question. You like him too much to entertain the thought of him with someone else. But does he feel the same?
“I don’t want to suck other guys’ cocks. In case it wasn’t obvious,” you admit without thinking of the consequences. “Do you…want to sleep with other people?”
Haechan shakes his head.
“Your ten personalities provide plenty of entertainment for me,” he jokes.
You shove him lightly, unable to contain your giggles. He grabs your wrists and kisses them fondly.
“You’re such a brat,” you say but it’s a compliment.
“Alexa play Charli XCX’s new album” Haechan shrugs.
“I sometimes wish I could be a brat, too,” you sigh wistfully.
“You? No way, you’re my good girl,” he squeezes your cheeks dotingly.
“Challenge accepted,” you give him a wink.
“Fine, fine, I’ll try my best to teach you my brattish ways,” he vows generously.
“It’s a date,” you clap your hands with unrestrained excitement.
“So…am I forgiven?” Haechan asks one last time.
You laugh and wrap your arms around him in a hug.
“On one condition,” you whisper in his ear with a smirk. “You take the teddy bear to your place. It’s my turn to look at you whenever I like.”
The End
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jawbone-xylophone · 7 months ago
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Okay time to be really opinionated: I think almost the entire TMA fandom writes Michael Distortion wrong.
Every time I read a fic about him people are emphasizing how swirly and elongated he/it is.
What's scary about Michael is that it is essentially the living personification of gaslighting. He makes everything else metaphorically swirly.
Sure there's "nobody would believe you", but most people who meet Michael think he looks angelic. He only looks scary out of the corner of your eye, or if he's feeding you just enough truth to get your guard down. He's fun to draw and describe as a psychedelic nightmare, but he is basically the gaslighting demon. It's a polite young man with curly hair and a beautiful smile who you could absolutely take home to meet your mother.
You only know he's a monster because your lizard brain starts screaming.
On a related note, its portfolio also includes dissociation and hallucinations, and nobody takes enough advantage of that– like, kissing Michael. Lots of people describe kissing Michael as a very physical event with notes of static and that tingling sensation of limbs falling asleep. A good start, but my argument: you feel him smooching your cheek and giving your hand a cute little squeeze, despite the fact that he's across the room ordering a coffee. It feels so real. You can feel his callouses catching at your fingers, but no matter how you flex your hand there's nothing there but air. You don't know if you just want it that badly and your eyes are lying, or what. He brings you a coffee and the sensation vanishes.
I know exactly what that episode about "the man who wasn't there" was because I've experienced it, and nobody utilizes that enough. Have you ever closed your eyes and tried to walk through a room, and been Firmly Convinced there was an object in front of you you were about to run into, despite no evidence of such an object when you open your eyes? It's a little like that. Any sort of relationship with Michael Distortion (not recommended and likely a way it has killed many people) would involve you getting comfortable with the fact that your senses are lying to you at an exponentially increasing rate, like a frog slowly being boiled alive.
Is he there? Is he not? Does it matter? You feel loved. You remember being told good morning and eating a homemade breakfast. Did you actually? Maybe it's a memory from a year ago you only think is from this morning. He's adorable even if his laugh gives you tinnitus. Maybe you've always had migraines. He takes care of you through them. Can you remember what he does to take care of you? ....normal people stuff, probably. Ice packs. You think he brought you ice packs once. You're sitting at a bus stop, going... somewhere, for a reason you're sure, and your body is telling you you're sitting on his lap but you keep checking, tapping with your nails, and the seat is hard metal. Does it matter? Maybe it really is him. You'd prefer if it was him. These cute little hallucinations are his way of showing affection. It's comfortable, even when the city shuts off your water because you only thought you paid your bills. He gives you his coat in the rain, and you laugh together and run through the weather, but when you get home you're holding a stranger's purse full of cash instead of a coat and you have no idea why. It's his idea of affection, though. He says he loves you when you ask about it, anyway, and don't you need the money now?
He's a lovely young man and the only normal thing in a world gone mad. The gloves only come off when it's done playing with its food.
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gaywarcriminals · 8 months ago
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Remember that time Xiao Jiu wanted to beat a kid with a brick?
The scene where Shen Jiu threatens Shi Wu is possibly my favorite scene in the whole novel because it tells us so much about qijiu's dynamic, both past and future, and namely, that they're both little freaks (affectionate) who show love in weird ways. I think it particularly exemplifies several of Yue Qingyuan's traits that often go overlooked!
I am just going in order. All excerpts are from the Seven Seas official translation, Volume 4, Chapter 24: Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu.
Shen Jiu fights for resources
“Shen Jiu, don’t think you can just throw your weight around. You don’t own this street. What gives you the right to tell us we can’t stay?!” This main street was wide and even, and many people came and went upon it. If one wanted to beg, it was the best and prime location. Some of the passersby watched this group of children fight, but even more hurried on their way. And this new brat had the gall to challenge him. Shen Jiu looked down and around, preparing to find a brick with which to teach him a lesson, when a tall youth happened to walk over. He saw Shen Jiu rolling up his sleeves, head lowered, and hastily went to stop him. “Xiao-Jiu, let’s go somewhere else.” [...] With Yue Qi standing in front of him, Shiwu grew bold. He leaned forward and yelled, “Every time we go to a new place,you always hog the best spot!
From this we know that Shen Jiu, without fail, tries to claim or fight for the best begging spots in every city. This isn't fully textually supported, but add to that the later section that mentions how Shen Jiu was far better at begging than Yue Qi and I think that, on some level, SJ feels responsible for both his and Yue Qi's wellbeing. Chasing off the other children is not just a selfish act, but also a protective one.
According to the orders given to them, Yue Qi should have wailed and wept, but no matter what, he never could manage to cry. Therefore, this task had instead fallen to Shen Jiu, even though he was faking an illness that supposedly left him too feeble to weep. But he was small and his face wasn’t too unsightly to look at, so whenever he sobbed and bawled, the passersby found him pitiful and generously opened their wallets. It would have been no exaggeration to call him a money tree.
Xiao Jiu fancies himself the breadwinner lol.
How Yue Qi reacts to accusations against Shen Jiu
That first youth took the opportunity to tattle. “Qi-ge, he’s bullying me.” “That wasn’t bullying, Shiwu,” said Yue Qi. “Xiao-Jiu was just joking around.” “Who’s joking?” said Shen Jiu. “I’m telling him to get lost. This is my territory. I’ll kill anyone who tries to steal it.”
I've anyways found this passage so telling of their eventual adult relationship! First of all, Yue Qi implicitly takes Shen Jiu's side, and immediately defends him. This seems to be taken for granted by all characters, so we can assume this is their standard dyanmic. Yue Qi, notably, does not deny that Shen Jiu was threatening Shiwu. In this situation where SJ is actively gearing up for a fight, it would be a very poor defense, and that's probably true of most messes Xiao Jiu got himself into! 
Most of Yue Qi's actions in the scene are attempts to de-escalate. This is just my theory, but I think in Yue Qi's mind, who's at fault is much less important than making sure no one gets in trouble with a higher authority. Even if he knows SJ could win the fight, it would only gain SJ more animosity, and possibly the attention of someone who would be a real danger.
I think it's evident how Yue Qi's ethos of keeping their heads down and not causing trouble or drawing too much attention would feed into how he handled Shen Qingqiu's less commendable behavior as an adult and complaints against Shen Qingqiu.
In the brothel scene later in the extras, we can see that he's conscious of their image. 
Yue Qingyuan yanked Shen Qingqiu off the bed. He was in a rare fit of anger. “Why are you like this?” “Why am I like what?” asked Shen Qingqiu. “Two of Cang Qiong Mountain’s head disciples getting into a huge brawl inside a brothel—does that sound good to you?”
Imo, now entrenched in the politics of the cultivation world, YQY sees protecting SQQ's image/reputation as an important part of protecting SQQ. Yue Qi spent his childhood managing Xiao Jiu, and as an adult, he's not able to so easily break the habit, not matter how SQQ scorns him
Shen Jiu does not get upset by attacks on his character, only from Shiwu calling Yue Qi "Qi-ge"
With Yue Qi standing in front of him, Shiwu grew bold. He leaned forward and yelled, “Every time we go to a new place,you always hog the best spot! Everyone’s been sick of you for ages! You think you’re all that? That everyone’s afraid of you?” “Shiwu,” Yue Qi scolded. Amidst the struggle, Shen Jiu kicked Yue Qi in the shin. “If you want a fight, I’ll give you one. Only losers would blame their spot for their incompetence. You bastard—who’s your Qi-ge? I dare you to say that again!”
Now granted these aren't the most cutting insults, but it's SO interesting to me that Shen Jiu doesn't react to the insults directly. To me, this is a little bit of evidence that, even at this age, Shen Jiu had already decided he was a bad guy, and stopped caring about what others thought of him. The glaring exception to that was, ofc, Yue Qi. I think part of the reason that SJ reactions to the "Qi-ge" specifically, is that Shiwu just said that no one likes Shen Jiu, and then tried to align himself with Yue Qi. I think to SJ, he sees a real threat in the idea of someone else stealing Yue Qi, the one person who likes SJ. SJ is so possessive of Yue Qi not just because he's Qi-ge, but also because, without him, Shen Jiu would have nothing and no one.
Yue Qi tries to deescalate by coaxing/appeasing Shen Jiu
“You’re the bastard! I bet you’ll get sold off soon and end up a pimp!” Yue Qi didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. “Where did you learn that kind of nonsense language?!” Then he dragged Shen Jiu off to the side of the road while coaxing him. “All right, you’re the most competent one here. Even if you didn’t pick and choose your spot, you’d be the best. So let’s change streets.” Shen Jiu stepped on his foot. “Get off me! Like I’m scared! Come on, fight me! Wanna gang up on me? Go ahead!” Of course Yue Qi knew he wasn’t scared. If he really let Shen Jiu brawl with the other kids, he would fight dirty. He’d gouge at their eyes and kick them in the belly or crotch or shin. He was terribly vicious, and the other party would be the one to end up suffering and bawling in terror. Yue Qi forced down a smile. “Are you done stepping on my foot yet? If you are, stop it. Qi-ge will take you somewhere fun.” “What shitty ‘fun’?” Shen Jiu asked savagely. “The most fun I’ll have is if they’re all dead.” Yue Qi looked at him helplessly and shook his head.
Yue Qi only barely scolds Shen Jiu, even when Shen Jiu in the wrong (tried to steal Shiwu's spot and then almost beat up Shiwu). Instead, his reaction is to distract, coax, bribe, and praise him until SJ looses interest in whatever trouble he was going to cause. Yue Qi is so biased, and he spoils him 😂. Even when Yue Qi has so little he can give, he managed to spoil Shen Jiu by giving him so much favor, attention, and affection. 
I think this is something that comes naturally to Yue Qi to the point that he can't help himself from doing the same thing as an adult, even when SJ scorns him. It's just the correct response to seeing a Xiao Jiu! He's the "why do we have hands" meme fr 
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Yue Qi smiles imagining Shen Jiu beating up the other kids
Of course Yue Qi knew he wasn’t scared. If he really let Shen Jiu brawl with the other kids, he would fight dirty. He’d gouge at their eyes and kick them in the belly or crotch or shin. He was terribly vicious, and the other party would be the one to end up suffering and bawling in terror. Yue Qi forced down a smile. “Are you done stepping on my foot yet? If you are, stop it. Qi-ge will take you somewhere fun.”
I don't have much to say about this, I just want to remind everyone Yue Qi finds SJ's violent, feral tendencies adorable. This man has no desire to train his cat, and he will insist it's friendly even as it gnaws on his arm.
In Conclusion?
This single scene shows us the trajectory of qijiu's relationship going forward, the strengths of their relationships that became pitfalls. It allows to imagine what they could have become if not torn apart by a world set to doom them.
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cartoon-buffoon · 1 month ago
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SPOILERS FOR FINDING FRANKIE
Real quick one little thing I love about Finding Frankie that I see people also going fucking crazy over is the OST/Final boss fight and the song playing during it. I've genuinely been listening to it on repeat and I don't really like dubstep but this song scratches apart of my brain that hasn't been scratched since I saw playtime with Percy and it's boss fight. Like seriously listen to → it, it's golden.
But also the "STOP MESSING WITH MY FUCKING GAMESHOW!" before the beat drop is something I find both terrifying and awesome at the same time. Before this we are led to believe monster Frankie is just that, a monster. It appears as nothing more than some beast that real Frankie sicks on us in attempt to end us and only actually stops when he realizes the MC being alive could boost ratings. It is just a monster that listens to the commands of the puppet master to kill and nothing more.
And then this boss fight happens where we get evidence that: NO! ITS SENTIENT AND INTELLIGENT! The Cartoon Frankie that hacks the TVs and cusses us out doesn't appear to be the real Frankie because it makes no sense for him to cuss us out only to then give us a business proposition. After all we are doing what we are SUPPOSED to be doing, we are in the final area providing content and boosting ratings, logically real Frankie would want us to CONTINUE because we are in no way ruining it. That just leaves the only other one who would want us dead— Monster Frankie. After all people are apparently betting who will kill us and with the Xs under Henry Hotline and Deputy Duck it's clear people anticipate us to die to Frankie and it seems like Frankie himself has had enough of our shit. This is HIS gameshow and he's enraged you are still alive.
I also believe this because for some reason real Frankie comes and hushes us as monster Frankie walks above in the sewer area. My theory is that after the vent sequence where real Frankie holds back monster Frankie from killing us, monster Frankie gets fed up with us living thus he's going on a direct path to murder us disobeying orders leaving real Frankie to come and help us get to the finale. It's his show where HE is the star, not us, and in the final conflict he lets out his rage by somehow hacking the TVs and telling us to just fucking die already showing that he's fully in control of all the slaughter he did. This is just a theory after all but it makes the most sense to me and adds a cool bit of detail to monster Frankie's character.
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dnpbeats · 10 months ago
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(Almost Solid) Proof That Dan Ran PhilsLion
I'm convinced that Dan was the person who ran the PhilsLion twit and I have receipts.  For anyone who doesn't know, PhilsLion is a twitter account that tweeted from the POV of Lion. It's commonly thought that this account was run by Phil. Besides the fact that he would interact with the account, there are multiple tweets that seem to be about him and dan. Unfortunately there's good reason to believe it wasn't Phil running it. HOWEVER there are many reasons that lead me to believe it was Dan who was tweeting from it, some of which is evidence based and some of which makes logical sense.
DISCLAIMER: All tweets I've included that are ostensibly about dan and phil's relationship are in reference to things that are confirmed by d&p themselves (e.g. the fact that d&p were romantically involved when they first met). I will not discuss anything that is not supposed to be public knowledge.
First let's look at when the Twitter was created. (Note: I am in UTC-8 so all screenshots will be in that time zone. I will say what time it would've been in UTC+0 (d&p's time zone) for clarity.)
Dan’s twitter account was created in May 2009. The first tweet from him (assuming he did not delete any older ones) was May 15 at 1:18pm. Presumably this is the day he got twitter.
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On May 16 2009 at 3:19am Phil tweeted that he uploaded “I was kidnapped.” 
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In this video he mentions his own personal twitter account, and there is an annotation of Lion saying “i want a twitter” (20sec into the video)
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About 3 hours after the video was posted (6:26am UTC+0), we get the first tweet from PhilsLion (presumably this was right after the account was created)
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May 16th 2009 was a Saturday. We know from Dan’s video “THE POWER NAP” that he worked at ASDA on Saturdays and Sundays from 5am-10am. So he would’ve been awake shortly after Phil posted the video. Also note that Dan presumably had an iPhone at the time (he tweeted something about iPhones in June 2009 and had no previous tweets before that about getting a new phone). He specifically tweeted in Sep 2009 about tweeting from his iPhone. Based on the fact that Dan literally showed up to work drunk and took a nap, I don’t think he is above going on twitter at work.
While this is not proof that Dan created the account, we can see that it’s definitely possible for him to have created the account. We know he would’ve been awake at the time the account was created, and it was approx. a day after he created his own twitter account, so making a twitter account would've been fresh in his mind.
We do have proof that Phil did not create the account. First, he edited the description of “I was kidnapped.” to say that someone [else] created PhilsLion:
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He also tweeted May 16th (10:35am UTC+0 if that matters to anyone) basically saying the same thing as the video desc, implying that someone else made the account:
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Finally in “AmazingJason” (posted May 26th) he mentions, again, “someone [else]” creating the Twitter account (about 20seconds in, the timestamp is linked). He encourages everyone to follow it and links it in the description of the video:
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So unless Phil was really pushing that someone else created it even though he himself made it, it wasn’t him.
If you want to skip to Proof™ scroll down to the next photo of Phil. Before that, I’d like to debunk the 11:11/different time zone thing–I think this is the biggest reason people have claimed that the account was not run by Phil or Dan but rather some other random fan. On May 30th at 4:12pm UTC+0 and June 3rd at 4:19am UTC+0, PhilsLion tweeted about making wishes at 11:11. In order for these tweets to be made at ~11:11 local time, they would need to have been made in either UTC-5 or UTC+7. UTC-5 is US Eastern Time. UTC+7 is a time zone mainly consisting of Southeast Asia. This includes parts of Indonesia, Cambodia, Laos, Thailand, and Vietnam. I have an explanation for this, which is certainly the biggest reach of this whole thing, but it is a plausible explanation :p
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It’s very possible that it was Dan who tweeted this if he was on vacation with his family at the time. We know Dan and his family have vacationed in Asia many times (at the very least they went to Thailand in 2006, India in 2010 and 2013, and Sri Lanka in 2016). So while there’s no proof (that I know of) that Dan was on vacation at this time, it’s certainly possible that he was. The location of the tweets would fit with where we know his family likes to go on holiday. Additionally, the second tweet talks about water skiing, which tends to be a fun vacation thing rather than something people do regularly (note this tweet would be at 11:19am in UTC+7)
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There’s further proof that PhilsLion was not always in UTC+7. On Christmas 2009, PhilsLion tweeted “goodmorning” at 6:21am UTC+0. This would be 1:21pm in UTC+7. It makes a lot more sense for this to have been tweeted in England.
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Then fast forward to January 8th 2011. PhilsLion tweets “I was up all night” at 8:05am UTC+0. This would be 3pm in UTC+7. So again, it seems that PhilsLion was not in UTC+7 at this time.
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Okay, now onto much more solid evidence. First, the handwriting of PhilsLion. This is the most tangible piece of proof. On June 25th 2009 Phil posted “AmazingAlex,” where Lion can be seen behind him in one of Phil’s shoes:
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Lion tweeted a photo the next day, saying “I’m on a boat :)” in reference to being in Phil’s shoe
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Note that the drawing/writing does not appear in the video and therefore was done by whoever runs PhilsLion. Here is some of Dan’s writing (found in TABINOF) for comparison:
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This is from the “how to draw cat whiskers” page. Notice how the As all have the crossbar quite high up, just like in the twitter picture. Additionally, the top loops in the Bs are all very skinny compared to the bottom loop. Here’s another one of Dan’s capital Bs from the blindfolded portrait page, which is similar to Lion's writing:
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I’m not a handwriting analysis expert, and yes it’s different drawing on MSPaint vs. a piece of paper, but the handwriting certainly has similarities.
And now, the more circumstantial evidence, but things that seem (imo) to be too big of a coincidence to not have been written by Dan (FYI these are going to be added in order of how much of a reach they are, not chronological order, lol). First we have “I month you”:
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This tweet is proposing an alternate word for “love” and ends with “I month you” (i.e. is replacing the word love with month), and was tweeted on November 19th 2009. AKA exactly a month after dan and phil met IRL for the first time.
Another one that seems very related to Dan and what we know of his situation is this tweet about “Lion’s” dad:
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In Dan’s own words in BIG: “I didn’t think I could ask my family for help or share my feelings about this, mainly due to my dad. Funny guy, kind of a woke hippie who did and said a lot of things I did respect but at the same time used to walk around the house saying how he hoped someone he had a problem with at work would 'die of bum cancer.' Yep, so picked the one area to be a bigot that would further traumatize your child. Nice! This experience coming from a childhood hearing the word gay meaninglessly thrown around as an insult at home[.]” 
Note that Dan was still living at home at the time, so if this tweet was made by him, it wouldn't have meant literally “getting away.” Also, Dan was at home when this was tweeted but it was 3 days before he was going to see Phil.
Next there’s this tweet:
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The “admirers” thing could be referring to anything really, but was tweeted during the time that Dan (and Phil) were in the Clipstar video contest. Also, Dan posted this dailybooth two days before this tweet, and most of the comments are just gassing him up, so lol (the pic doesn’t load but based on the comments I think it was a screenshot from his clipstar vid).
This tweet from Christmas Eve 2009. Dan and Phil were together and filming the interactive Christmas adventure:
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Proof they were together if anyone needs it:
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This tweet (tweeted November 26 5:45am UTC+0)
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Many things to note here. The song linked is called “When I See You Again.” It’s by Dave Bullas (one of the founders of SiTC), whom d&p were/are friends with. (They had other friends who were friends with him as well. PJ has the top comment on the video.) The lyrics of the song are not really happy as they insinuate a breakup. But it’s interesting to think about them in the context of wanting to see someone who you are not able to. This tweet was 3/4 days after the “I wonder how biology…” tweet and 3 days before Dan went to see Phil.
Also, Dan just LOVES recommending music to people. He does it a lot.
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(^ Proof Dan was seeing Phil on the 29th if anyone needs it)
Now a tweet exchange which doesn't technically prove anything, but I thought was curious. Phil tweeted December 29 2010 about getting a new camera:
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Lion tweeted in reference to this 20 minutes later:
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I find this interesting because Phil made no comment anywhere about manuals or ignoring them. So it could just be PhilsLion making schput, but a lot of the other Lion tweets are in direct reference to something Phil said/did. It would make sense if Dan ran the twitter acc and he was talking about something that he witnessed Phil do that we don’t know about. Also note “my new camera is here” vs. “phil picked up his new camera” (Lion giving more specific detail than Phil in terms of the manner in which he obtained the camera).
Some Tweets (1, 2, 3) which aren’t proof of anything but just sound like things Dan would say:
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For context, this is about floods that happened in Queensland. Again, I have no way to prove Dan said this. But if you’ve ever read, like, anything Dan has said in a print interview ever or watched any of his liveshows, you know that he often tries to say stuff with superfluous/pretentious language and then ends up not making a whole lot of sense. Things that he’s said have been misconstrued so many times, or just outright don’t make sense to anyone but him. So this series of tweets checks out, if it is Dan who ran the account.
This Twitter exchange which doesn’t actually prove anything but is very sweet if it is dan who tweeted it:
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The photo is a screenshot from “AmazingJason”:
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Note that two weeks later (October 23) in “Life without the internet!?” Phil says the internet led to him “meeting the best friend of [his] life.” The comments all assume he is referencing Dan, but in the video he holds up Lion, so presumably that’s actually who he’s talking about. That is, unless Lion represents Dan :p
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Lastly, this tweet which is a Fall Out Boy lyric, but again would be cute if it was Dan:
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There's a few more tweets that are interesting to think about being from Dan but don't actually prove anything so I won't put them here lol.
So, at the end of the day, could it be some random fan* who made the twitter account? Yes. But in my opinion there isn’t really anything proving it’s not Dan. On top of that, there are enough things that fit with what we know factually about d&p now, but were not well known at the time, that make it seem much more likely that Dan ran this account vs. a random person.
*technically when the account was started, Dan himself was a random fan. So there’s that too ;)
P.S. best practice is to not interact with old tweets, so pls don't go on a retweet spree
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calamari-inari · 2 months ago
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"... you become what you believe."
Dimitri and AM!Ferdinand mini doujin, 7 pages. Read right to left!
Transcript and personal captions under the cut
CW: blood
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Comic transcript. Thoughts/monologues are in parentheses. Background dialogue is in brackets.
PAGE 1
D: Ferdinand.
D: I've been wanting to ask you a question...
F: (He looks like a demon..!)
F: Yes? What is it? Please speak properly...
PAGE 2
D: Why did you leave the Empire?
D: I remember how you were during our time at the Officers Academy.
D: You placed so much pride in your heritage.
F: What is the use of pride if I have nothing left?
F: The former Duke Aegir was dismissed. My title, my land... They are all gone now.
D: ...It's because of that woman.
D: Tell me, what do you seek?
PAGE 3
F: I am not sure I understand.
D: Last night, I entrusted one task to you.
[P-please! I'll tell you what I know!]
F: Yes. I killed the Imperial soldier as you had instructed me.
D: That is what I mean.
D: You are simply following my orders.
D: You did not want to kill him, correct?
F: Dimitri, he had vital information for us and you did not let him finish!
PAGE 4
D: Anyway, similarly, I also lost the throne. I have little care for that, however.
D: Now, I'm fighting with a single mission: avenging the dead. They will not be satisfied until I have her head.
F: *sigh* You had said that, but you should not accept that as true.
D: What rubbish. Anyone that deserves to die will die.
F: Dimitri! That is-
PAGE 5
D: Silence, Ferdinand!
D: This hatred and regret I feel... Nothing I do will ever be enough until that witch is gone.
D: What are you-
PAGE 6
D: ... Hmph. What a pest you are.
D: Why do you insist on staying by my side? As you used to closely affiliate with that woman, I could easily kill you here and now.
F: You do not wish to, do you? Because your heart says otherwise. Learn to forgive yourself.
D: But do I deserve forgiveness? The guilt that weighs down on me is...
PAGE 7
F: Dimitri, while I may have left the Empire behind, my nobility has not dulled.
F: Create the grandest vision for yourself because you become what you believe. Do you understand? It is a noble's duty to support you until the end, no matter how far you may stray.
F: That is why I am here for you.
💙🧡💙🧡💙🧡
I don't really draw comics often, but this was certainly worth the effort!! I've always thought Ferdinand is the greatest support character ever, and with him joining the Blue Lions, his role won't change. Just like in the stories of Pan and Loog, Ferdinand would choose to help Dimitri on his path to become the restoration king of Faerghus without ever taking any credit. It's quite evident in his character based on some of his paired endings. I just think that's one of the things that makes them so great and sweet 🥺 I imagine Ferdinand wouldn't hate Edelgard in AM, but rather, he wants to show her that he's able to support his lord (Dimitri) in a way that she never would have thought of. After all in AM, Edelgard only ever knew his snobby academy version who would always childishly rival her.
Please let me know if you liked it!! I'm definitely creating more fanart of these two (maybe a little more intimate next time because I want to lol 🫶)
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siolixz · 21 days ago
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⋆。°✩ Of Love and Loyalty⋆。°✩
+18
Part 1
<Part 2><Part 3: final>
Pairings: Oz "The Penguin" Cobb x Reader
Reader takes Victor's place in this story. She and Oz have a difficult relationship- he clearly likes her and she is conflicted in her feelings towards him (Eve doesn't have a sexual relationship with Oz in this). While I am between chapters, I decided to write this. Life has been so busy lately- so I apologize. Everyone in this story is 18+ and consenting. I've listened to Lana while writing this sooooo
Enjoy and give feedback If you want :)
Warnings: mentions of violence, smut , gunplay (¬‿¬)
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After the death of your parents you were in a bad place, evidently. In a bad place, with the wrong type of people- stealing rims; trying to get by and scraping for food every day, life was miserable in Crown Point and it seemed like there was no way out.
 Not until he found you; shots firing by your head- he cornered you in the street- with a gun in your face. 
“P-please, please do-don’t.” all the words your stupid mouth could pronounce, he looked at you and he decided you were going to live- for the time being. 
This man, he was like a force of nature- so different, so strange. He was the most terrifying person you ever met in your life, from the way he carried himself to the way he dressed- you knew he was a mobster. Someone that the boys on the block, the ones that thought they were ‘tough’ and bullied people like you- people that needed help- could only ever dream of being like. 
Only in small glimpses could you see the man that was underneath; he was lonely, that much you knew- he was a man who dreamed of being respected, of being feared and loved, by all- maybe by you too, by the way you would catch him staring at you, the way he touched you sometimes- on your shoulder, on your hips- one time he brushed the hair out of your face, small acts of domestic kindness gave you glimpses into his desires, his wants and needs.  
“Where you from, kid?” He asked you about your life, he listened and he showed how kind he was, regarding your father and mother and your sister, for the first time since the traumatic event someone listened- everything, everything was taken from you.
He told you, “You have to be hard as nails, think on your feet.” He was right, people like you had to fight for the things they needed, the things they had to get in order to survive. He was like a mentor, you looked up to him, really- you did, but you were also scared, scared that one day you’re gonna do something wrong- say something wrong and he will put a bullet between your eyes before you know it. You couldn’t leave, if you did he was going to find you- the thought of that sent shivers down your spine.
As Robert told you about him leaving for California, you felt a rug being pulled from underneath you- he was the only thing tying you to your old life, the old you. The one who used to sneak into abandoned buildings with your friends; the one who ran home from school to meet up with him and your other friends to hang outside together- to enjoy life. 
“Why-why would you do that? Your whole life is here” you asked him. You and Robert enjoyed each other’s company, he kissed you a few times but that was all, he wasn’t your boyfriend, though you cared for each other.
“Not anymore” he told you “Our families are dead…we gotta care for ourselves now. Look at you, living in this nice apartment- it’s crazy he lets you stay here.” He looked around, almost not believing HE was here, let alone you. You told him that you do some paperwork for this club owner and he lets you stay in one of his spare apartments as payment, a good enough lie, he didn’t probe further. 
“Wh-when are you leaving?” you asked and as he told you that tomorrow night- you wanted to cry, beg him to stay.
“You could come with me” he grabbed your hands and leaned down to look at you “we could start over.” 
You looked at him and nodded “Robert, I-i’m not sure he…he will let me leave.” You took a deep breath. 
“Who? Your boss?” he asked.” Why would he care if you left? Does he-“ Robert took a pause, debating if he was going to ask you this or not “-does he ask for other things too?” You knew exactly what he was referring to. 
“N-no, nothing like that. Robert... this guy, he’s not just like a-a club owner.” you looked him in the eyes, trying to find a way to break this to him “He-he’s like…like a gangster.”
Robert’s eyes went wide “Then you definitely shouldn’t work for this guy. You need to leave.” He’s right, you did need to leave.
How is he gonna know? He’s too busy with Sofia to care for the moment, too concentrated on the new drug- this could be a way out- to get out of this city- for good this time. Leave all the pain in Gotham, start a new life.
 “The bus is leaving tomorrow night, 11pm, promise i’ll see you there?”
“Yes, promise.’ He gave you a quick kiss and left. 
After he came back home, he told you every detail he could think about. He seemed excited, that’s good. He told you he’s gonna need you tomorrow, he had a meeting with the Triads, apparently he forged an alliance with Sofia. Good, good for him, you were happy. Way too happy to see HIM happy, he was your captor- you shouldn't be happy for him.
Too bad you’re not gonna stick around to find out how the deal ends.
 While you were thinking of ways you could tell him about you disappearing while you waited in the Maserati- you were interrupted by a cop and you followed your ‘mentor’s’ words, “think on your feet”---he told you that evening that he was proud of you; as he smiled and grabbed your hand at the lunch you had to observe Luca’s wife at. 
This ‘intimacy’ he placed on you, he was going further and further every day. You didn’t want this, did you? Your stomach did a flip whenever he touched you or looked at you, maybe you wanted to be loved too, protected. 
Oz was also a charismatic man and pretty funny too, so what's not to like? Besides all the killing, he joked around with you and it seemed he enjoyed when you would give him a remark back, when you showed him you had it in you. 
You were leaving tomorrow, when he was gonna be busy at the club- his club. As he was talking to Sofia, he instructed you to be the supplier to the hookers giving the people in the club ‘Bliss’ that’s how he called it. 
His idea, you were sure.  You had to be dressed the part, in a tight white dress so short you couldn’t bend over at all in, your breasts barely covered by the material. 
Between trying to calm your nerves and trying to ignore the way Oz was looking you up and down like a starving man looking at a 3 course meal- this night was going to be hard to get through. 
But you already made a plan, when everyone was distracted, the girls with the customers and Oz with the Triads- you were going to escape. Out the back door and into the night- for a chance at a better life. 
As the evening went on the girls were becoming more and more demanding, people loved ‘Bliss’ and they sure loved you, when you came by- with the product in your purse they cheered for you; they knew your name, some even hit on you- but that’s not important.  
You had to “get your head in the game” like he would say, Oz, it felt so wrong to think like this but you felt bad, a part of you felt like you were gonna let him down- break his heart.
You weren’t ambitious like he taught you to be, you were a coward, afraid of a life like this, afraid of a life with him. 
He was always so full of confidence, of pride- you wanted him to be proud of you too.  Maybe he was going to be so happy he was gonna take the next step and kiss you, you didn’t want this, did you? This dangerous man, he killed people, he murdered them in cold blood and he liked it too.
He was also kind and funny and lonely, so lonely; you were lonely too, you could have a better life here in Gotham, as well- under his wing. 
You checked your phone “Bus is leaving in one hr, u coming?” Robert texted you.
Yes, yes of course you were coming, you had to get to the staff bathroom- upstairs, so you could leave his cash there; change into your old clothes- jeans and a t-shirt- blend into the crowd and leave. 
As Roxy called out your name and pulled you into the crowd, ‘to dance’ she yelled. You couldn’t look suspicious, play the part- play the part, you repeated in your head. 
“You two look like a match.” She yelled in your ear and smirked at you.
“Wh-who?” 
“You and the big boss” she grabbed your waist almost embracing you “Did you fuck him yet? Or are you saving yourself for marriage?” She giggled in your ear as she told you that.
“No.” You answered, clear as day. You saw the way they looked at you- back at Oz’s apartment, you just thought you looked different from them, they were all dressed so nice and you looked like you’ve been to hell and back, because you did- so that’s why they were whispering and giggling to themselves about. 
You told Roxy you had to go, said your goodbyes and you left immediately after. 
In the bathroom, you looked another time at your phone- “Bus is leaving in 30 min. Pls come.” Ok, you had to leav-
“Doll, we fucking did it! Triads are in.” The sound of the door being opened hard enough it almost fell off its hinges, made you immediately drop your phone near the sink ”Oh, it was sweet, you should’ve seen it. We gotta play it safe I mean I still got the Maronis on my ass.” he smiled at you, flashing his gold teeth and started to point his finger towards you.
“But you! Look at you, you fucking did it. I’m proud of you, so fucking proud of you!” He came closer to you and grabbed your face- cradling it, “I told Roxy to order some of that red wine you like- the good stuff, cmon!” He grabbed your upper arm and in the worst timing possible-your phone started ringing near the sink- you quickly turned around and closed it. 
“Give it to me-” He’s going to kill you. 
“Oz-”
“Now, GODDAMIT!” he yelled and you jumped. Your heart beating a thousand miles per hour, he couldn’t see what the texts were, he was going to go crazy. Now for sure, he was going to kill you. Great. You unlocked your phone and gave it to him, your knees felt like play doh.  
As he blinked and looked down at your phone, you could see him scroll through the messages. He looked up at you and you could swear you could see him think about what he was gonna say to you. This man- who was never quiet-was reduced to silence, for the first time since you met him.  God, this was a mistake, why did you want to leave, you didn’t want to leave him.
“We’re this fucking close and you wanna bail on me like that, for what? Some fucking guy who doesn’t care about you.” he said, brows furrowed. He didn’t know Robert, didn’t know if he cared about you or not, yet he is pretty sure he doesn’t- maybe he cares more than him. “With my fucking money, huh?” he asked, after looking at your purse and you. 
“N-no, I swear, it’s not-not about that.” You pleaded, hopefully he was gonna listen, please listen, you thought. 
“What did you have huh? Before I found you? Nothing.” He was right, you did have nothing “I gave you food, shelter, a job and I’m still not good enough for you-”
“Oz, n-no this isn't about that.” you pleaded.
“It sure as shit looks like it. You think you’re too good for this life. You wanna go? Whadya waitin’ for?” he moved his much larger body out of the way, so you could have a clear path towards the door “Fucking go.” He looked almost sad- desperate in a way.
“I-i can’t.” You couldn’t leave, he was going to kill you; he told you that- multiple times.
“The fuck, you think I’m holding you hostage or something? Like you’re my prisoner” Yes, you are. Maybe you liked it, maybe this whole ‘im gonna escape' thing was all a bluff, you wanted a life like this, it excited you, it made your heart race- like he did. 
He moved his hand beneath his jacket and before you knew it- he pointed his gun at you.
“Oz-oz, hey-“ you started
“What did you have, huh? Before I found you?” He slowly started to move towards you, gun shoved near your face. “Fucking nothing. You were nothing. I would kill for you- I gave you so much of what I had, you have all the opportunity in the fucking world.” He came close enough you could smell his cologne and the whiskey on his breath “But this” he pressed the gun next to your head “this is all you feel!” His voice was breaking. 
“N-no-“ you tried to find the words to change his demeanor. You almost started to cry, your heart fell to your ass and you wanted the ground to swallow you whole right now
“This is all you feel, huh? Being with me?”  He looked into your eyes, his own brown eyes were being illuminated by the bathroom you were in, almost reddish- showing the anger and disappointment he probably felt- you let him down. 
“What else did you tell him, huh?” He asked, once he removed the gun from your temple, as he trailed it down your body, from your neck to your belly. “That I’m in the mob... that I kill people, that you helped hide a fucking dead body?” 
He was so close to you, the way he pressed you against the wall- reminding you of the first time you met him. “That I wanna fuck you?” He whispered.
His question made your ears and cheeks flush with blood and your heartbeat start pounding even more- if that was even possible. His gun trailed even lower and you thought he stopped pointing it at you, until you felt the cold barrel of it on your leg- goosebumps appeared on your skin, he trailed it up and up until it gripped your tight dress from underneath. 
His pupils were blown wide and his breath was getting heavier. “Truth is, you always had a choice.” He moved the gun even higher and with the help of his hand your thongs were on full display in front of him, your dress on your waist.  
He moved his gun to the front of your panties, pressing against your pubic bone- you didn't want to look down and stare at the shameful display.  
“And you choose to stay.” As he moved the gun near the part of the thong that was covering your clit and moved it down there, you couldn’t help the moan that escaped you and you looked down, partially because this was so shameful and partly because you didn’t want him to see how turned on you were. 
As you opened your eyes when you looked down- you saw his boner in his pants and the gun he had pointed towards you and the way he held it- like he actually was going to shoot you. 
“I’m-I’m sorry.” You whispered, hoping this would be enough. Maybe you could move on- you didn’t mean it. 
“Look at me.” you reluctantly raised your head “This is what you want, this life- doing this...Don’t fucking lie to yourself. You want to be more than your parents, be someone.” He looked at your lips and then back up into your eyes, as you remained quiet he pressed the gun even harder against your clothed clit. 
“M-my parents would be ash-ashamed of me.” He pressed it even harder “please.”
“Please what? You have to use your words doll.” He gave you a glinted smile- he enjoyed this immensely, what a sick man. “Maybe I can give your little boyfriend a call, have my men go after him and put a bullet in his fucking head. “ 
“You wanna be nothing, great, you already are.” He moved his gun from the right hand to the left and replaced the cold barrel of the pistol with his fingers; the warmth of them was warmly greeted with your involuntary moan. He moved the gun right under your chin- you wanted to cry again, your eyes were closed. He was capable of anything. Don’t cry in front of him, don’t do it.  
He started tracing circles on your clit and as you opened your mouth to breath out a moan, he pressed his lips to yours- tongue touching your upper lip. You were scared, so fucking scared, all you felt since meeting him was this- attraction and fear. All of it led to this moment, a breaking point he reached once he thought you were gonna leave him.
“Open your mouth” he was mere inches away from your lips, he moved the gun next to your body again, pressing into you “open.”- you obeyed. The size of him alone pressing into you was almost suffocating. 
You tried to kiss back- in all your shocked state, truly, you tried. His touches on the most sensitive part of your body were becoming erratic, too busy with the fact he was kissing you. He left your clit and started groping your breasts, almost painfully, you gave him a groan of pleasure mixed with the uncomfortable feeling of having a man his size shove himself over you, touching you anywhere he could get his hands on. 
“You talk about leaving me but you’re so fucking wet.” a trail of saliva connected your mouths “You wanted this.” This wasn’t how you thought the night would end, with your boss on top of you. “Still think I’m wrong?” He removed himself from on top of you and grabbed your arm- putting you in front of the mirror, with him behind you; gun still in his hand.
You saw him pull himself out of his pants and shuddered, maybe in fear and maybe in lust too, this big scary man. Almost crying just because you wanted to leave him, you’ve only known him for a few weeks. 
You were holding yourself up on your hands and as he pulled your panties to the side and slowly entered you, you saw him close his eyes in pleasure and then look back down at the way you took him.
He pressed the palm of his hand on your back; so you leaned forward even more, giving him an eyeful of you and him.
You almost felt like screaming when he buried himself so deep into you the next second, you’re pretty sure you did. What if one of the girls came in? You’re pretty sure Oz wouldn’t give less of a fuck about that right now. 
“Ow fucckk..” he looked up and back down again before setting a pace that made your knees almost give out, thank God you were holding yourself up. He grabbed one of your legs and put them on the sink so he could bury himself even deeper. 
When you felt something cold once again on your head you knew he had the gun pointed again at you; your blood ran cold. “You wanted to leave me..I own you.. I fucking own you” He smacked your bum so hard you knew it would leave a mark; with his eyebrows furrowed and a slight smile he asked you “Tell me, who owns you?” he wants to humiliate you, you thought you had a choice; that you could leave, you never had a choice; never will.
You felt like your cheeks would light on fire by the embarrassment you felt, either way, you had to obey him.
“Y-you” you shamefully lowered your head; closing your eyes, God it felt good to be fucked like this, minus the gun, on second thought, maybe with the gun was better. This was sick.
“Didn’t fucking hear you!” he roughly grabbed your hair and pulled you flush against him, with one hand he held the gun under your chin, with the other he grabbed your breast and fucked you against the sink. You didn’t know what to grab- so one of your hands instinctively grabbed the one he had against your boob- to pull him away if he grabbed you as hard as he did before and with the other-you held the one that had the gun. 
He pressed his nose against your cheek, “Who owns this pussy too, huh?” he kissed the side of your face, he wasn’t going to stop, was he?
Not only were you getting fucked by a man decades older, he practically could do whatever he wanted with you; kill you, fuck you, make you beg for him.
 “You do.” You hated saying this and loved it at the same time- the way he felt inside you, his big hands on you, the same hands that killed so many people without so much as a second thought- this was too much.
“Jesus…you’re fucking drenched.” He wasn’t lying, besides the muffled sounds of music from outside- the only sound in the room was the one your bodies made and the occasional groan from him and your moans, only you two could hear them- at least you hoped. 
“I’m gonna cum…tell me you want me to cum.. tell me you want it inside.” Goosebumps appeared on your skin and your thighs started shaking a little, either by the size of him or in anticipation, you didn’t know.
“I want it, please.” you told him, at this point his face was buried in your neck and his pace was losing momentum so you pushed yourself up against him; again and again.
 “Please what? Please what?!” he asked while fucking you
 “I want you to cum in-inside.” This whole ordeal, it got you so spent up you felt tears in your eyes; he shoved himself as deep as he could inside of you, pushing your body next to the sink until it was painful and you felt the way his cock was pulsing inside of you. 
“You’re not going anywhere.” he kissed you on your cheek. “You’re not going anywhere.” he whispered again. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author's note: Dude you fucked your own criminal kingpin boss?
Hope you liked the story, have a good day xoxomxxoxoxo
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sukuslutx · 9 months ago
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Do it for me.
Feat. Toji Fushiguro, female reader
TW. Smut, filming, sexual content
WC: 2k
note | this used to be a fic I did for another character two years back but it didnt really feel like it fitted it anymore so I felt the need to change and tweak certain things and make it about Toji instead. Hope yall enjoy!
It was a quiet night. You were sitting in the dining room across the man who you wished was something more than just a late-night call. Moments like these were rare though, since both of you agreed that this would be just something casual, no strings attached, so more intimate moments were nothing but a hopeless dream. ‘’It’s easier for us both, don’t ya think?’’, you remembered his words that night when you agreed to this. You bit down on your bottom lip recalling it, hoping he wouldn’t notice the sudden shift in the atmosphere. He of course didn’t.
''I've been thinking-'', Toji spoke to you in a steady tone
''Do tell me'', you spoke back with just the same one as you were munching on the food you prepared for the two of you.
''I was thinking we should film a sex tape'', you immediately choked a little on the food you were chewing as you instantly started coughing out. Your cheeks turned crimson red and Toji just smirked in your direction knowing he managed to catch you off guard and fluster you.
''Don't say such things while I’m fucking eating Toji'', you took a napkin to clean around your mouth.
''So, I didn't hear a no... so, is that a yes?'', Toji's tone hopeful, you could see he was getting excited.
''Why do we even need to do that?'', you spoke back finally after cleaning yourself. You would be lying if the idea didn't excite you and turn you on in a way but you would not show that just off the bat.
‘’Think it’s hot, we could even sell it for some quick money, but if you don’t wanna, no pressure''
There was no response from your side so Toji was just about to drop the idea as he didn't want to pressure you to do something you're not aboard with.
''Okay-'', you spoke lowly.
A big smirk was tugging on his face while the look in his eyes was deeply lustful. He jumped out of his seat as he headed to you and picked you up.
''Toji put me the fuck down- I am quite capable of walking by myself'', you screamed at him as you squirmed in his hold
''No can-do princess'', he chuckled making his way to your shared bedroom. He lets you down on the bed as he goes to set up a camera. You expected the moment the light turned red he will join you in bed but instead he sat down on the chair next to the camera, setting it up at just the perfect angle.
''Strip for me'', his tone was lower and the words he spoke were like an order which you immediately obeyed.
Your hands moved slowly to your top as you started unbuttoning it. The silk shirt gently sliding down your shoulders and off of you. You threw it somewhere across the room, it didn't matter. Your hands moved to your breast which were still covered with a bra as you gently squeezed them, looking at your boyfriend straight in the eyes instead of the camera.
''Ah-ah princess, eyes on the camera'', he smirked at you his hand moving to palm the evident tent forming in his pants. Oh, he was already hard.
You turned your head from him to the camera as you continued to take your clothes off. Your pants coming off next along your panties. You soon after unclasped your bra and threw it at him which he catches straight away.
''Now show that pretty pussy for the camera baby and touch yourself just as you do when I am away'', you felt yourself turn completely red, how did he-, you remembered you promised him that you wouldn't touch yourself and him telling you he is the only one allowed to make you cum, yet on some nights you just couldn't help it.
''Oh? You seem surprised princess. You know I have my way in finding out everything'', he smirked at you. ''But- I'll leave the punishment for later, now show me how you touched yourself, how you touched what belongs to me'', you bit down on your bottom lip. You let your hands roam across your body. One hand making its way to squeeze your breast again and the other trailing lover to your clit as you gently circled it.
Toji hummed pleased with the sight in front of him. Your fingers then made their way to your awaiting hole as you gathered the slick and soon after pushed them between your folds. There was something exciting with him sitting there and just observing you, you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second. You started letting out low moans as you worked your fingers, but you needed him, there was no way you could reach your high like this without him.
''N-need you-'', you spoke through moans. He moved his eyes from your pussy to look at your face. ''Hm? What did you say? Speak up.'', he started to tease
''D-daddy. I- I need you inside me'', you somehow manage to mutter out. You could see the proud smirk flashing right at you as he stood up from the armchair and headed towards, the light on the camera still flashing red. He took off his shirt and threw it in some corner of the room.
''Take my pants off for me'', he was standing next to the bed looking down on you. You crawled to the edge of the bed as you quickly moved your hands towards his belt as to unbuckle it for him. He slapped your hands away instantly.
''With your mouth''
You looked up at him doe-eyed as you decided to not test your luck and just obey. You somehow managed to unbuckle his belt and pull the zipper down with your teeth while in the process never taking your eyes off him. Oh, how he enjoyed the sight, if it were even possible he was turned on even more by each second. Suddenly you felt him grip your hair and pull your head up so you were looking at him.
''Should we try anal tonight baby?'', he spoke with faux sympathy.
You shook your head no to his question. ''I don't think I can handle that'', you spoke back. Toji tilted his head with a pout on his face. ''Open your mouth'', again it was an order and you obediently did so. Two of his fingers were shoved to the back of your throat. ''Hmm I trained you well''
''Turn around, ass up'', he spoke to you as you immediately did what he said and you could feel him distance himself from the bed as he was about to go and take something. Not long after you could feel his presence again behind you.
''My bitch has the best ass ever'', he said, rubbing your ass right before you felt a sharp sting from an object coming in contact with your skin.
''Fuck-'' you screamed out as you immediately pulled a pillow to muffle your scream.
''Count-'', he spoke to you before his belt came into contact with your already reddening skin again
''TWO-'', you cried out.
Slap.
Slap.
Slap.
You were counting out, barely holding your composure. The pain was overwhelming but the pleasure was overtaking your body.
''Whose pussy is this?'', Toji inquired before giving you another slap
You mumbled some curses at him not replying to his question, your head still buried in the pillow.
He gripped on your hair as he pulled you back to his chest
''I can’t hear you slut so ill repeat again, who does this pussy belong to?'', a harsh hit of his belt lands on your already bruised ass
''fuck, is yours-'' – you screamed out, tears forming on your waterline. He loosens the grip on your hair as your head gets shoved back into the pillow.
He let his belt down as he moved back to you one hand finding its place on your hip as he moved his cock to your awaiting hole with the other hand. He thrusted his dick fully inside of you as you let a loud gasp. ''Ahh-'' you screamed out loudly. It didn't matter how much time the two of you fucked, you could never be able to actually adjust to his size and that made his ego fly out of the roof. He gripped your chin harshly as he pulled you against his chest. He was pumping in and out of you mercilessly. Your moans were getting louder and louder by each passing second
''You like that hmm? Like it when I fuck you like a cheap whore?'', his pace was just getting faster and his thrusts were harder. It seems as if his main goal was to pound you until you went dumb. From all of the pleasure you couldn't even manage to form a single sentence.
''What's the matter baby? Already going dumb on me? It’s too early.'', nothing but faux sympathy yet again leaving his lips. He pulled out of you as you slumped down completely on the bed. You believe you already came twice in that short period of time but this was far from done.
''We're not done yet'', he took you in his arms as he sat down on the edge of the bed. ''Look at that mirror'', he pulled you on his lap and turned you around to face the mirror.
''You're going to ride me now until you make me cum and while you're doing that your eyes should be on that mirror so you can see how much of a whore you are for me 'kay?'', he patted your head as he brushed off the tears that were staining your cheeks. Soon after he harshly slams you down on his thick cock. You started moving yourself up and down on his dick, trying your absolute best to keep your eyes on the mirror as he said. You could not handle any more of his punishments, it was already enough as it was. He let your sloppy attempts go on for a while but he was growing impatient.
''Is my little slut too tired to ride daddy's big cock?'', he cooed. ''N-no...'' you tried to speak back to him, trying your best to increase the pace of your bouncing on his cock and pleasing him as you failed terribly.
With his patience just at the limit he grabs your hips as he slams you down hard and starts bouncing you on his cock by himself. Your tongue falling out of your mouth as a little drool formed on the side of it.
''I'll need to train you more then baby- you're gonna be daddy's perfect cocksleeve one day'', he kissed your forehead as he kept the same pace. ‘’Stop Toji, fuck- feels weird.’’, you tried squirming in his hold trying to get away but he kept a firm hold on you as he kept going. You felt something uncoil and the next moment you squirted all over his dick some landing on the mirror across from you. ‘’Holy shit, that’s a fucking first’’, he let out a laugh impressed at how much of a whore you were for him tonight, he tipped you over the edge. He could feel himself getting closer and closer, that sight he just experienced engraved in his brain already. With a few harder thrusts into your sloppy cunt he emptied himself inside of you. Your whole body felt numb as you fell backwards onto his chest. He slowly pulled out of you, laying you down on the bed next to him. ‘My pretty girl-'' he ran his hand through your hair as he hummed. ''You did so fucking well for me’’. You just hummed back at him with not much energy left in your body to even respond, as you dozed off. You’ll leave the recurring thoughts of having something more with this man than just casual sex for another day.
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