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pathologicalreid · 24 days ago

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burn notice | s.r.

in which your workplace is targeted by a group of extremists, and Spencer tries everything to keep you safe

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: fighting, threats, arson/explosion, politics, mass casualty event, sole survivor, greek mythology my beloved, public transit word count: 2.34k a/n: i genuinely think my laptop is going to start smoking if i leave it on for much longer.

You pull your knees to your chest, sitting on the floor next to Spencer’s desk while he speaks with Hotch about the case. JJ waves at you solemnly before she heads out of the bullpen, leaving you as the last person. Setting your chin on your knee, you close your eyes and wonder how things got so messed up so quickly.

Someone was threatening your work, the threats weren’t directed at you personally, but with the way Spencer was acting, it might as well have been. The BAU had been called in by D.C. Metro yesterday, and that was when Spencer started acting overprotective.

The letters were demanding all of the money from a political action campaign, something you couldn’t give away. The money wasn’t yours to give. “Are you alright?” Spencer asks, having made his way down to his desk.

Accepting his hand up, you sigh, resting your cheek against his chest when he pulls you in for a hug. “Just a long day,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his waist and finally letting yourself relax.

He chuckles lightly at your colossal understatement of the day’s events, gently rubbing your back before he goes to pick his messenger bag up, slinging it over his shoulder before taking your hand, “What do you say we order something out for dinner?”

You hum in response, “I think it’s pretty obvious that neither of us is in the mood to cook.” You don’t even need to bring up the fact that it’s eight p.m., you could be heading home at five and you still wouldn’t have it in you to cook a meal. You slip your hand in his while you’re heading to the elevator, waving briefly at Hotch as he locks up his office.

Spencer lets you sit on the metro, standing until it’s time to switch lines and he finds a seat while you’re headed to Farragut North. You rest your head on his shoulder, wondering if the food you ordered on the phone was going to beat you to the apartment.

You’re half asleep by the time you get to Van Ness, and Spencer practically drags you behind him as you exit the station and walk back to the apartment. As you expect, your food is waiting for you on the welcome mat, complete with the handwritten note from your favorite delivery driver, “God, this smells good.” You say, holding the warm take-out containers in your arms while Spencer opens the front door.

Setting everything on the kitchen counter, you retreat briefly to the bedroom to change your clothes, pulling on an old t-shirt before returning to the kitchen, taking your container, and sitting on the couch. “Are you going to work tomorrow?”

With food in your mouth, you nod at Spencer, watching him sit down on the other end of the couch. Swallowing, you shrug, “It’s election season, Spence. This is one of my busiest times of the year.”

“But there’s a group of people threatening to blow up the building that you work in,” Spencer reminds you, mixing up his food with his fork.

This isn’t the first time you’ve had this conversation today. “At the end of the day, it’s up to my boss to decide whether or not we get to take the day off or if we have to go into the office, and he said that anyone who doesn’t come in tomorrow gets fired.”

Spencer’s gaze narrows, “I quite honestly don’t care. I’d rather we go to having a single income than have you die in a domestic terrorism incident” He points his fork at you, “And for what it’s worth, your boss is an asshole.”

You huff in recognition, now that was something you were well aware of. This job was supposed to be your way in. A stepping stone on your way to being a liaison in the White House, but the world had started to slow down from the moment you entered the world of politics. Every ounce of excitement that you had felt when you first moved to D.C. was fleeting.

Work sapped joy from your life, and everyone around you knew it.

Fiddling with your chopsticks, you dig around in your takeout container for a carrot, “Do you think we could talk about something other than work?”

“I can’t stop thinking about how tonight might be my last night with you,” Spencer says morbidly, aggressively stabbing at his container. It was Spencer’s greatest blessing and his eternal damnation, being able to think so quickly and operate in a way that left his peers miles behind.

He saw the solution so plainly in front of him, standing in his pool of water with a fruit tree creating a foreboding shadow above him, but every time he reached out with the answer, you retreated. “DHS didn’t think it was a credible threat,” you murmur, setting your food down on the coffee table so you can attempt to have a real conversation with him about this.

Spencer huffs in response, the hair blowing strands of his hair around his face, “DHS isn’t emotionally involved in this case.”

You tilt your head to the side, “Do you think maybe you’re too close to this? What did Hotch say?”

“Fuck off,” he snaps. It was an instinctive reaction to your pushing, but that didn’t make the sting any less painful.

Crossing your arms in front of your stomach, you shrink back into your side of the couch, “Is that what you told Hotch, too?” You watch his reaction, the way he presses his lips together in acute shame for what he said to you, but he won’t take it back, and he won’t apologize for it. Not right now, at least.

He’s just afraid, you try to remind yourself. Spencer’s terrified of something happening to you and he has some sort of deep-seated inability to process fear, so when he gets scared, he gets mean. Right now, he was taking his fear out on you, and if something was going to happen to you tomorrow, you didn’t want him to spend his time lashing out.

You turn on the TV, flipping to a program that the both of you like before going back to your dinner, manifesting that the tense silence between the two of you turns peaceful before it’s too late.

“Hey, what are you thinking about?” Nadine asks you, nudging your side gently with her elbow until you snap out of your fugue. “Are you heading home for dinner?”

Checking the time on your watch, you nod absentmindedly, “Probably,” your voice is rough from lack of use, spending so much of your day just staring at election models. You have the privilege of being the only employee who lives close enough to be able to go home for meals—you’d packed a lunch, but you have to stop at home for dinner.

In an unsurprising turn of events, your team was staying late at work tonight. You’d already texted Spencer to let him know, but you doubt that he even looked at your message. “Hey, at least no crazy person came and blew up the office,” she continues, noticing your melancholia.

You laugh without humor, a dry empty sound in response to your co-worker tempting fate. “Yeah, at least there’s that,” you respond, noting the strange air that remains in the suite, people are still thinking about the threat, even if they’re too scared to say it aloud.

Walking back to the office after making a sandwich at home, you pull your phone out of your purse and try to haphazardly type out an on my way text to Nadine, but when you send it, it doesn’t go through. Shaking it off, you drop your phone back in your purse and keep walking, sirens passing on the street as something goes on in the city. You think about texting Spencer again but decide against it—it’s better to give him his space.

A passing pedestrian knocks into you, getting you to lift your head to frown at him, but he just keeps running forward, not even bothering to throw a sorry over his shoulder.

“Is that building on fire?” Someone asks, and your heart sinks into your stomach at the question, picking up your own pace as tufts of smoke billow into the sky, suspiciously close to where your office is.

There’s a mob forming behind the police line, people who were in the middle of their commutes home when they found something to gawk at. Even people who choose to keep walking are rubbernecking, making double steps to look at the building for a split second longer. “Isn’t that the councilman’s office?”

“No,” you breathe, watching the flames as they only grow. The crowd clutches their pearls as people ask about people jumping from the building, your friends who would rather jump and possibly survive than burn to death. People run past you to get closer while you can’t do anything except watch in horror.

It’s not until one of the windows shatters that you move again, the location of the window right next to where you and Nadine had been standing earlier. You push through the crowd, trying to reach the police barricade as people ask Metro PD for answers.

You try to duck under the police tape before someone pushes you back, “No!” You cry, “No, no, no! Please let me through! I work here,” you try to explain through gasping breaths, “This is my job! These are my friends!” You shout over the ruckus, the smell of the fire filling your senses.

“Ma’am, ma’am,” one of the officers talks down to you, “We’re under strict orders from the FBI that no one is allowed to get through.” His voice doesn’t have an ounce of sympathy in it, and it pushes you closer to the ledge.

You point at him accusingly, “Fuck your orders! Let me talk to the FBI!” Desperation oozes from you in every direction as the crowd steps away from the crazy woman shouting about the FBI. “I know them all,” you plead, “just let me talk to them!”

The officer holds his hands out, “Ma’am, I don’t want to have to remove you from the scene.”

But you’ve already moved on from him, noticing a familiar cascade of dark hair on the other side of the barricade, “Oh my god, Emily!” Your voice is comparable to a shriek as you try to get her attention, “Emily, please!”

Relief floods your chest as her head snaps in the direction of your shouting, a confused look quickly morphing into shock as she recognizes you. “Let her through,” She calls to the officers, looking at you as if she’s seen a ghost. “What’s going on?”

You run to her first, adrenaline thrumming through every part of your body as you point to the two officers who made an enemy of you, “Those two won’t fucking listen to me!”

“We thought you were in the building,” Emily says, her tone is eerie, almost haunted.

Gasping for air, you wave your hand around at the building, babbling something about dinner and the walk while she continues to monitor your surroundings.

She places her hands on your shoulders to stop you from bouncing around, “Y/N, Spencer thinks you were inside the building.”

It’s like she’s knocked the hair out of your lungs, you shake your head, “I wasn’t. I was at home. I left for…” your voice trails off at the realization that at this very moment, Spencer thinks you’re dead. At the very least he thinks you’re trapped inside of that building when you very likely could’ve been at the apartment that you share while the fire was set.

“Reid!” Emily calls into her radio, rolling her eyes in frustration, “He took his earbud out.”

You tug at her arm, “Where is he?” Your voice broke, grief flooding your eyes as she communicated with the team.

She nods her head to the left, “He’s on the north side of the building.”

Not even waiting for her to finish her sentence, you took off in a full sprint, ignoring other people looking at you like you’re insane because the only thing you can think of is getting to Spencer. “Spencer!” You shout, your voice ragged from running, throat swelling with emotion as you scream for him.

JJ sees you first, “Reid!”

And you see him. It looks like Derek’s holding him back, stopping him from running into the building when you call out again, “Spence!”

He turns just in time to catch you, nearly toppling onto the ground as you launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him while he holds you so tightly that your feet lift off of the ground.

“Yeah, Emily,” Derek says into his radio, “We’ve got her.”

Your hands tremble with an assortment of emotions as you grip the straps of his Kevlar vest, depending on him to keep you standing, “I’m okay,” you babble, “I wasn’t in there.”

“I’m sorry,” Spencer responds, burying his face in your neck, you hold him impossibly tight as his tears hit your skin, eliciting a sob from the back of your throat.

You gasp, “I know. It’s okay. I’m okay,” you repeat like a mantra, a collection of words that needs to be tattooed on his brain. “We’re okay,” you tell him, smiling faintly as he walks backward to an ambulance, neither of you faltering in your grip of the other.

It seems like every cell that made up his body is shaking as he holds you, “I’m so sorry,” he apologizes again. This time it’s deeper. He’s apologizing for his behavior, sure, but he’s apologizing for this event.

A cry bubbles in your throat. Everything was gone. Your friends were gone. The last two years of your life burnt to ashes.

And when you lose your footing and you otherwise would’ve fallen to the ground, Spencer keeps you up, his grip holding you together—keeping you close.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #spencer reid x fem!reader #written by margot #margotober #angstober

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deadhands69 · 2 months ago

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A Nice Fantasy with Nice Shoulders

MDNI

Katsuki Bakugo helps you after you're hit with a sex quirk, based on the same idea as the Shigaraki one here

Katsuki Bakugo x gn/afab reader

All characters in 3rd year, over 18 and you should be too if you're reading this

Warnings/Content/etc: soft but slightly possessive Bakugo, unestablished relationship, swearing, very light violence, oral (m/f receiving), slightly public/people listening, sex (various positions), walk of shame.

*the start’s a little angsty but idk how to write anything that doesn’t turn into mushy fluffy smut

**a lot of feelings of not consenting to being hit by the quirk, but the actual physical interactions are very much consensual/have been wanted for a while

***this one’s long, it got a bit out of hand [4.9k words]

“They thought it would be funny” you hear someone say. A black cloud of dust had just dissipated, leaving a shocked Monoma and Mineta in the middle. “I don’t think they actually realized how dangerous what they did is” added another voice.

You had all heard of the sex quirk villain terrorizing the city. Every news station had been talking about it all week.

While on patrol for his internship this morning, Monoma picked the villain’s quirk up attempting to apprehend him to no avail. After some brief convincing from Mineta, they assumed it would be a fun prank to make all of the fem-bodied 3rd years a little horny. What they didn’t realize is this quirk doesn’t just make people a little turned on, it drives them to insanity if not dealt with.

“A new article was posted on this today, the effects are worse than previously assumed.” you hear Iida’s nearly robotic voice over the crowd “It can cause permanent damage to quirks and mental stability if intercourse isn’t acted upon promptly!”

Oh, I could fucking kill them you think before launching yourself across the room. Monoma dodges and yells that he’s so sorry and will make it right before running out the door to get help. Mineta on the other hand, is still in shock.

You make quick work of him, leaving him tied to a chair in the common area covered in bruises. The teachers will arrive soon with Monoma and they can deal with it. Turning away and walking to your dorm room, you hear him hurling some insult at you but can’t be bothered to listen.

Most of your classmates are trickling out of the area. Fortunately, the others in your class affected by the quirk all seem to be taken care of. Your best friend Shoto is even leaving with his crush. You’re happy for him but can’t say it doesn’t hurt a bit that he didn’t bother to check on you. It’s not a big deal though, Momo needs help.

And you’ll be fine.

You think.

Or maybe you won’t be.

The happiness for your friends using this as a catalyst to confess to their crushes feels sharply in contrast with the overwhelming loneliness and dread you feel walking back to your room alone. Sure, you have a crush on someone too but he left earlier this morning and you didn’t expect him to be back until tomorrow night. Bakugo frequently leaves on the weekends to visit his parents.

You consider texting Denki or Kiri for his number but they just left with their crushes as well and you’d rather not interrupt them.

Besides, even if Bakugo was here, you don’t think that would make much of a difference. To put it lightly, he doesn’t seem to be into you. When you and Shoto hang out in the common area like you always do, his red eyes glare at you from across the room. Just seeing you seems to put him in a bad mood. He doesn’t even yell at you like everyone else, seeming to ignore your mistakes as if they aren’t worth his time to correct. He did argue with you once, the first day of school but when you threw it back at him he just stared at you. After that, he always seemed indifferent. It was disappointing, his sass seems like it could be fun sometimes.

You’d since written it off as a lost cause and tried to move on. Still, there’s something that draws you to him that you can’t quite place. Something in his eyes that hints things could be different.

You close the door to your dorm, comforted by the familiar space. Iida’s words ring out in your head again “...permanent damage...”

That’s just one article, maybe this won’t be as bad as they say you think before a dizzy spell makes you double over.

Flopping face first into your bed, you scream into your pillow.

You didn’t fucking ask for this.

Katsuki Bakugo just got back from the gym, walking into an uncharacteristically deserted common room. It is Saturday, right? His eyes light up when he sees Mineta still bound to the chair you left him in.

Someone finally snapped, good for them. He’s a little sad to have missed it.

“What happened?”

Mineta stammers at the looming figure above him before blurting out random bits of the story. “t-the villain. Sex quirk. And Monoma- we thought it was harmless but then-”

Of course he’d heard all about this quirk, who hadn’t. Clearly Mineta.

“Are you that fucking stupid?”

“N-no we just thought-”

Bakugo was losing interest, having put the dots together by now. At this point, Mineta was rambling how it would be okay, listing the names of their classmates who had left together.

“Jiro and Kaminari, Ochaco and Midor-”

“Raccoon eyes and Red, [y/n] and Icy Hot, yeah yeah”

“What? No. Todoroki didn’t leave with [y/n], he left with Momo.”

“Huh?” Curiosity replacing the disappointment in his voice. “Who’s with [y/n] then?”

“No one, they left alone. Serves them right. That delinquent’s the one who did this to me!”

“Glad someone finally did,” Bakugo mutters under his breath, smacking Mineta with a small blast while walking past him to the stairs.

“Oh come on, you can’t just leave me here - wait!”

Back in your room: you’re losing it. Every article says the same thing: you’re fucked.

You’d read as many as you could before the overwhelming desire became too much to handle and you couldn’t keep track of the sentences anymore. You tried to fix it yourself too, but no matter how hard you tried your touch only seemed to amplify the problem. Leaving you feeling overheated, your panties desperately drenched. It’s only been fifteen minutes, this will get even worse.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

It’s probably one of your friends, you think, wondering who would bang so loudly on your door (also who finished that quickly????) In the heat of the quirk, you’d taken off your hoodie - leaving you in a nearly see through white tank top and the tiny athletic shorts you’d been wearing all day. Your friend’s wouldn’t care though.

KNOCK KNOCK.

You make your way to the door, thighs clenching around your aching groin as you walk. Swinging it open, you find yourself face to face with a black skull hoodie. Your heart nearly jumps out of your chest before remembering, he doesn’t like you. And he’s not even supposed to be here this weekend. Why’s he here?

“Bakugo, why are you here?” you grumble, sounding much more gruff than intended.

“Uh, nice to see you too?” his fingers tap impatiently on the door frame next to your shoulder.

“Any other day, I’d love to word spar with you but today I just can’t.” you turn to close the door.

“Why? Are you mad your crush left with someone else?”

“What?” you rub your eyes in confusion before getting distracted. Bakugo is hot in workout clothes on a normal day. This quirk was rendering it nearly impossible to concentrate on his words. Not with the way every muscle in his thighs appears to be sculpted into his pants, leading up to his-

“Icy Hot.” he repeats himself, “He left with pony tail. ‘s why you’re pissed, right?”

Oh, that. You’d forgotten about that.

“What? No. Shoto and I are just friends. Besides, he’s had a crush on her forever and she needed his help.” you say blankly.

“You needed help too though,” that one stung. He continues, “sounds like a shitty friend if you ask me.”

“Look. If you’re just here to criticize my friendships, I can’t deal with it right now. Are you done?“ your voice breaks. You step back slightly, hoping to hide in the dimness of your room. He’s not wrong, but you really don’t want him to see you cry.

“I-” he notices the tear in the corner of your eye and knows that one hit too close. He’s off to a bad start. If he keeps talking like that, you’ll definitely slam the door in his face.

Much more quietly he tries again. “Look. I didn’t mean to- fuck, I’m so bad this.” Biting his lip, he wipes his hands on his pants before shoving them in the front of his hoodie. His cheeks flush, making the scar under his eye look pale in comparison. Is he nervous? That can’t be it.

Regaining his composure, he looks back at you. “I came to see if you’re okay, if you n-need anything.”

It’s the most quiet you’d ever seen him. He can’t look you in the eyes. Glancing down, he notices how see-through your shirt is before quickly looking away. He focuses hard on the walls of your room, hands still deep in his pocket.

Of course you’d always wanted Katsuki Bakugo in your dorm room, but assumed it would be different. You imagined that one day he’d start fighting with you like everyone else and fighting would turn into play fighting which would turn into him being nice every once in a while. You always assumed, under his prickly exterior, he’d be soft and sweet inside. You’d never seen it though. Not even when the prettiest girls in your school threw themselves at him, only to be on the receiving end of an explosion. Still, you hoped maybe one day you’d be the one who could break through that, finding something loving underneath. Your crush was all built on a fantasy, but it was a nice fantasy. A nice fantasy, with nice shoulders.

Back to reality.

He at least thought to be here now, which is better than the apathy you were used to. It’s a start.

“Come in,” you whisper “I really don’t want to be alone right now.”

Closing the door behind him, you turn to walk back to your bed when the world shifts. The dizziness had been coming in waves, this is just another one. You could expect it now. Tensing to hit the ground, you’re engulfed by his athletic arms instead.

“Holy shit [y/n], you okay?” he holds you in his arms, looking down at your face.

“Oh, yeah. This has just been happening,” you trail off, hardly aware of what you’re saying. You’re trying to find up from down, only to find every direction your body leads you to is him.

“This has been happening the whole time??” his clenched jaw could easily be mistaken for anger but the waver in his voice gives away his concern. He doesn’t seem to mind you grasping his sweatshirt to right yourself. His body feels warm against you, much warmer than you - making you wonder how he’s managing to be so overdressed right now. Pulling closer, he feels firm under his soft worn hoodie. He smells like laundry detergent and deodorant, with a subtle sweetness. The throbbing in your tight shorts worsens, the quirk-induced ache leaves you feeling empty. You need more of this. More of him.

The dizziness passes and you’re back on your feet. He lets go of you but keeps his arms near as you steady yourself against the wall.

Deep breath. If your friends managed to confess to their crushes today, you can too. Your situation might be a bit different, but he’s not stupid. He knew very well what he was walking into when he showed up. He has to expect this.

Here it goes.

“Bakugo?”

“Yeah? D’ya need somethin?”

“I need your help.”

“Whaddya need?”

“You.”

He nods, understanding. “Yeah. I can do that.”

“Really?” That’s all it took? Holy shit.

“Pshh. What kind of a damned hero would I be if I can’t even fuck a sex quirk out of ya?” the mock confidence would normally make you cringe but he stepped closer and your face is now inches from his. His hands move to the wall behind you, caging you between his arms. Looking down at you, he pauses.

He wants to throw you on the bed. To shove you face first into the mattress and make you scream his name all day for every other girl in the dorms to hear while they’re being awkwardly fumbled by amateurs. He wants to fuck you as hard as he can, so good it’ll ruin anyone else for you. He wants to make everyone jealous of you.

But when he’s right here with you.

When he leans in closer.

His lips barely brush against yours.

Bringing his arms down from the wall, he cups your cheeks. Holding you softly, pulling you in closer but just as sweet. It isn’t the rough boldness you would expect from him, but it was explosive in its own way. Every subtle move of his lips drags up wishful feelings you’d been burying deep inside you for the past three years.

He pulls back for air, his heavy eyelids opening to see you confused at him.

“Oh.” you breathe.

“Did I do somethin wrong?”

“No, I just didn't expect that.”

He rolls his eyes.

“You’re just being… nicer than I expected,” you clarify. Understatement of the fucking year.

“’m never mean to you” he mumbles. Even in the low lighting you can see how hard he’s blushing. To hide his embarrassment, he closes the gap between your lips again - this time with more confidence. Mouthes pressing together, his tongue dancing with yours.

Taking this as an invitation to move forward, your hands embrace his body. Exploring every inch you’d only dreamed of. The soft skin of his neck you’d grown accustomed to staring at sitting behind him in class. The ridges of his back you watch flex under his suit when he’s training. You take off his sweatshirt to run your hands over his arms, his black tank top giving you a better view of the muscles and scars that cover them. Fingers lingering on every curve. You pull your hands from the top of his chest down to his thighs. Your touch veers up his inner leg when his hand grabs your wrist, stopping you.

Grimacing at himself for the pause, he bites his lip to collect his words.

He definitely can’t say he hasn’t thought about doing this with you. He has. Constantly. To a point, he maybe wondered if it was unhealthy. It’s actually the reason he went to the gym this morning, he needed to think of anything else but your ass in the tiny little shorts you were wearing while casually making a cup of coffee. The ones you’re wearing now, pressed up against him.

But having you now? Like this?

“Wait.” His voice is gritty but softer than you’d expect.“What?”

“Things ain’t gonna be weird with us, right?”

“No weirder than ever. Why?”

He looks away momentarily. Not wanting to say it if you hadn’t been thinking the same thing. For his own sake though, he can’t bring himself to leave this unaddressed.

“Cuz I skipped a few steps, I was supposta take you out and stuff first.”

“Well, I’ll let you know to ask me out in advance next time I plan to get hit with a sex quirk.”

“‘m serious. ‘m not fucking this up.”

“You can take me out later.” you smile, his eyes soften looking into yours. Something in his stare makes you melt like ice cream on a summer day. Is this the sweetness you’d always dreamed of?

Feeling too hot, you take off your tank top, throwing it on the ground nearby. His eyes drop and the corner of his mouth creeps into a smile. His hands move to your waist before gliding up to trace the shape of you. He follows your lead - pulling his shirt off and exposing the scars scattered over his toned body.

Granting your own wish, your hands trail down the V along his hips and into his pants. Closer, you need to be closer.

Without thinking you drop to your knees. The pants don’t leave much to the imagination, his outline appearing rock hard already (and he didn’t even get hit with that quirk). Peeling back the fabric, his cock bounces out heavily. It’s massive in a way that would usually scare you but with the audaciousness of a sex quirk taking over your inhibitions, you only want it more. Grasping the soft skin with both hands, you bring the dripping pink tip to your mouth. You have to. It’s so beautiful and you need it. He gasps as your tongue lolls out and you bob your head forward.

One of his hands finds your neck, thumb gently caressing the back of your head; the other planted on his own face leaning over you with his elbow into the wall to steady himself. You watch his abs flex with every heavy breath before your eyes find his.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking good” he groans. You moan at the sound of his voice, sending vibrations through him.

He doesn’t last long. To be honest, he’s a little embarrassed by this but he really had been thinking about you in these shorts all day and didn’t expect this to happen. Less than a minute later, his hips are sputtering while he whimpers “wait, [y/n] gonna cum.”

Perfect.

Even in your throat, you can’t take him all the way in at this angle. Increasing the speed of your hands, you pull your mouth back enough to look up at his face again while still working his sensitive tip. His brows furrow and he bites his lip, exhaling hard while gripping your hair tighter.

“Fuck… cumming” he whines through clenched teeth. His dick gushing in your mouth.

You stare up into his crimson eyes, licking him while letting his load drip through your lips down your chest. The astounded look on his face says he’s into it.

Milking out the last drop, you let him gaze at you while catching his breath. You grab your tank top to wipe your chest and face off but he’s already pulling you up before you can finish. Pressing you back into the wall. His lips find yours as he cups his hand around your cheek.

“So fucking pretty,” he mumbles between kisses, “now it’s my turn.”

Suddenly, his strong hands grip the backs of your thighs. Not removing his lips from yours, he carries you across the room to your bed. Laying you across his lap, he takes the shirt still in your hands and finishes cleaning his cum off of you. Still worked up, every touch he gives is met with your moans. Noticing this, he works his hands around your body. Lightly grazing and squeezing where he pleases. Taking off the shorts he’d been daydreaming about removing all day. You’re soaked through your panties, pressing hard into him as his fingers gently pass over you.

“Wanna sit on my face?” he asks, knowing you’re dying to grind into him any way you can.

Absolutely, you do.

A little too eagerly, you shove him back onto your bed - he doesn’t mind. First, you peel the wet fabric from between your legs. Climbing over him, you position yourself above his face. Your ankles slide under his shoulders, fingers tangling with his above his head to steady yourself. You slam into him, dropping harder than intended (okay, you really want this.) A bit rough, but you know Dynamite can take it. Slightly overwhelmed at your enthusiasm, he groans into you before his wet tongue laps at your folds. Sucking and biting at your clit as you ride his face. His hand follows over yours as you move to grip his blonde hair.

You’re almost there.

KNOCK KNOCK.

“Hey, [y/n] are you okay in there?” Mina’s distinct voice sounds through your door, “we’re worried about you.”

“Yeah, I’m.. uhm. I’m good.” you yell back, trying (and slightly failing) to control your breath.

Glancing down, Bakugo’s eyes light up. Without warning, he shoves his tongue into you. Your world spins.

“Fuckkk” you moan under your breath, gripping his hair harder. He’s enjoying this.

Of course the other hero students would immediately jump back into helping people, but now? There’s no way you’re answering the door right now.

Shoto inquires next, “are you sure, we read more and-”

“Yeah, I’m- I’m fine!” you manage to get out before throwing your face down and exhaling hard into a pillow. You feel your pussy throb as you cream on his tongue. He’s still not slowing down, determined to make you break. His hands now squeezing hard around your thighs, pressing you into him.

“I think someone’s in there,” Mina giggles.

“We should probably give them space, it’s the manly thing to do right?” Kirishima adds.

“Wait, I wanna know who it is!” Sero’s voice chimes in.

How many people are out there??

“In that case,” Momo adds, “[y/n], I made these for you. I’ll leave them out here, okay? Hope you’re being safe!” Something slides under your door but you can’t make out what it is.

You continue to hold your breath, clenching around his relentless tongue.

Finally, their voices trail off down the hallway. Bakugo (you should probably call him Katsuki after that) lessens his grip allowing you to roll onto your bed. Pulling your face away from the drool and bite mark covered pillow, you start to catch your breath. He presses himself up, rubbing his messier than usual hair and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. After a quick kiss on your forehead, his heavy footsteps make their way to your door and back before throwing a few condoms on your bedside table.

Useful. Thanks Creati.

“Ready now?” he grins at you.

He decides it’s his turn to be on top. With your legs wrapped around his hips, he slowly presses forward. His tip slides into your wetness and you feel yourself stretch around him. Bringing his lips to yours, he kisses you like earlier - soft, passionate. He’s being so sweet you wonder how this is the same person who was just tongue fucking you, trying to get you to scream while all of your friends listened. The same person who grumbled and rushed past you this morning without a hello.

Considering his glacial pace, you weren’t really sure when it happened: he bottoms out in you before pausing. You wrap your hands around the back of his neck, scratching them through his soft hair. Thoughts of who he was earlier blur away, taking in the feeling of him in you now. He slowly resumes movement.

His tongue inside you felt amazing earlier, but his dick is even better. Hitting every sensitive spot you didn’t even know you had. He sucks your bottom lip into his, gently nipping as he picks up the pace. You’re panting hard, kisses becoming sloppier. He thrusts into you, harder and deeper.

“Fuck Katsuki,” you moan, “gonna cum.”

“Do it. Cum on my dick,” he growls back, slamming harder into you.

Your throbbing cunt pulses around him while you scream in his ear (you'd feel bad but it's not like he can hear that well anyways.) Hands dragging down his back, pulling him in closer to you.

A jolt of pain amplifies your pleasure as his teeth connect with your throat. Biting down while he whimpers into your neck. You feel him pump into you, exploding white into you while you ride out the waves of your own orgasm.

As you both come down, you run your hands over his scared face. Wanting to cling to any moment of softness you can get from him. He closes his eyes, melting into your touch.

“Thanks for your help,” you whisper in his ear.

“Help? Oh. Yeah,” his gravelly voice is soft against your cheek, “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, you don’t have to thank me.” He pulls out, leaving you feeling empty again.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks, tying a knot in the condom before tossing it.

You stand up. No dizziness yet. You test your quirk. Almost back to normal.

He picks up another condom from the table, giving himself a few strokes before putting it on.

“Again?” you ask.

“You’re not through the quirk yet, are you?” His red eyes pierce through you and you know there’s no use trying to hide anything from him.

“Almost.”

“I can do better than almost,” he smiles and find yourself pressed into the wall again. His calloused hands running over you in contrast to his smooth lips leaving a trail of small pecks over your neck.

In one fluid motion, he grips the back of your legs, pulling you up while sliding you back onto his dick - this time faster with more ease. You gasp, clutching his shoulders while he roughly thrusts into you.

“ya feel so good on my cock, you’re doing so fucking good,” he chokes out between heavy breaths, "you look so fucking pretty taking me like that."

The pressure in your gut rises every time he pounds into you before spilling out, sending pulses of satisfaction through your whole body. You shove your head into his shoulder, crying his name while he fucks you harder. Toes curling as your heels dig into his back.

Before you can catch your breath, he throws you back on your bed.

Strong hands pull you onto your knees, your back arched, and face finding your pillow again. Grabbing your ass to bring you closer, he penetrates you again. His fast pace resuming, making you whimper into your pillow.

His hands find yours, bringing his elbows to either side of your shoulders. Groaning in your ear “ya sound so fucking pretty, louder for me,” as he plows into you. You scream, feeling yourself pulse around him as your pleasure cascades through you.

“Ka-katsuki” you whine, the sound of his name in your voice sending him over the edge.

With another hard thrust, he stutters his hips into you, exhaling hard. For the third time today, you feel him flex in you, filling the condom. You stop biting your pillowcase to look at him. His bright eyes staring back at you through heavy lids.

He thinks you look so fucked out and pretty on your tear-stained pillow.

“You did so good,” he breathes, “you feel better now?”

“Definitely”

Definitely better but

So.

Fucking.

Exhausted.

You know you should clean up more, go to the bathroom down the hallway but you’re so tired you can’t manage to do more than melt into your sheets. The last thing you remember before drifting off to sleep is Katsuki helping you get dressed for bed and wrapping himself around you.

A sliver of light slices through your room. Your hands move across the bed but it’s empty. Yesterday feels like a hazy dream. The ache between your legs reminds you it was definitely real. Your neck and hips are sore too, must have fallen asleep at a weird angle. Blinking your eyes open wearily, there’s a note on the pillow next to you.

Had to leave early this morning for extra training but let me buy you coffee. Text me when you wake-up and we can meet at that place on the edge of campus.

Katsuki xxx-xxx-xxxx

You check your phone.

[you have 57 new messages and 14 missed calls]

The latest few, from Mina, asking who’s in your room. Quickly, you swipe them away. That’s a long story and you’re not sure how you’ll tell it. You can deal with it later. You text Katsuki.

You [heading out now, meet at the coffee shop?] Katsuki [see you soon]

Getting ready in a rush, you quickly throw some pants on before brushing your teeth, pulling your hair out of your face, and heading down the stairs.

Walk normal you remind yourself on the way into the common room, trying to look like Katsuki hadn’t spent half of yesterday pounding his massive dick into you. The rest of the class doesn’t know that yet and considering that it’s new, you aren’t really sure if he wants them to know. That probably wouldn’t be the best way for them to find out, anyways.

Ochoco’s voice beams behind you “Hey [y/n], you’re alive! We were so worried about you!”

“Hey Ochoco! Yeah, I’m okay!” you yell back.

Hearing you’re awake, Mina runs from the couch to hug you. “Hey!!!” Her eyes widen. “You had a good night!” she says before giggling “I’ll text you!”

Mineta scoffs at the sight of you before getting far out of your way. Good.

Tsuyu, Iida, and Jiro all stare from the couch, they wave back politely but avoid eye contact.

Denki high-fives you.

Sero also high-fives you before running to the couch and handing Jiro money. Is this about beating up Mineta? They can’t possibly know about anything else.

Deku looks mortified. “Uhm.” He grabs at the collar of his shirt.

Is there something on your sweatshirt? Using the window by the exit as a mirror, you check.

Oh, shit. There’s more than something on your sweatshirt.

Tiredly, you assumed the hoodie you woke up in was yours; this one has a big white skull on the front. Peaking out above that, a massive bite mark covers half your neck. You pull the hood up but it still doesn’t cover it.

You [just looked in the mirror] You [why didn’t you warn me???] Katsuki [now everyone knows ur mine 🧡] [you have 8 new messages]

There's a part 2 now!!

more Bakugo here: m.list

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arabian-batboy · 7 months ago

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If a war between Iran and Israel really will emerge it will not just be Iranians who will suffer, but every country in the region will be somewhat involved, which includes some nations that are already declared as one of the poorest, most war-torn and starved nations in the world. All of whom all be completely unprotected while Israel wreak havoc on their citizens (excluding those who live in puppet-states aligned with the US) with full-support and funding from the US and other Western superpowers to ensure that no matter happens, their influence and interests in the Middle East will not be lost and they'e willing to sacrifice the lives of as many non-Israeli civilians as they want to in order to achieve their goal.

This is one of the reasons they implanted this cancerous tumor called Israel in our region, to act as military base that cause instability and state-sponsored terrorism in the area so that it would be easier for them to exploit these failed-states that surround it and the best part is? All they have to do to maintain this military base is give them a couple billions and some weapons yearly so that those blood-lust Zionist settlers can do all the dirty work for them, that's NOTHING compared to the costs and casualties of other wars that had the US be directly involved in like Vietnam or Iraq or Afghanistan (off the record; but that's exactly why they're using Saudi Arabia to indirectly destroy Yemen, they learned their lesson, its always better to use a proxy.)

If a war breaks out? The US will not be in any real danger, because they're half-way across the world and all the fighting will be in West Asia and North Africa, far away from them. No American building is in danger of being destroyed, no American city is under the threat of being bombed, the average American citizen will not be in any danger and can just continue living their life like normal, hence why they're always the first ones to start making those WW3 memes, because they're not the ones in danger of dying.

This is precisely why the US's imperialism in the Middle East hasn't slowed down in decades, because they do not suffer any negative consequences from it. All the destruction and casualties they cause is inflicted solely on the native people and the native people only, for the US, they only have things to gain from these wars, whether it was stolen resources or more instability that will further their control and influence in the area.

The US, like every single oppressive empire in history, will not suddenly grow a conscious over-night and immediately halt all their wrongdoings simply because they don't want the innocent people in other countries to suffer anymore. The only way to stop their imperialism is to have them believe that its not worth it anymore, to have the cons of being involved in our region out-weight the pros.

Because at the moment if the only cons here are "innocent Muslims will die"? Then those motherfucking colonizers will NOT stop, they will only stop once it reaches a point where its also the colonizers who are dying alongside the native population and the first step for that to happen is to dismantle this giant settler-colony built square in the middle of our region and forcing these Western Superpowers to choose between continuously spending trillions of dollars to maintain their interests directly or to fucking leave us alone already and save those trillions for something else.

#anti US #anti israel #anti zionist #anti Israeli #anti zionisim #iran #gaza #palestine #palestinian #yemen #joe biden

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teaandspite · 3 months ago

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The Great Goodreads Diss List (Part 1)

Context: For many years now, I have been collecting funny lines from Goodreads reviews to share with my coworkers. (I do collection development, reader's advisory, and weeding at a public library, so I read a LOT of reviews)

Are some of these, perhaps, rather mean? Yes, but they are also very funny, and come from a place of honest frustration. In the tradition of Bargepole threads and lists everywhere, names and titles have been censored.

"First, I want to say that I understand how hard it is to write a book and how amazing it is when it is actually published. Congrats to the author for that accomplishment. That said--"

"Warning: This review will be lengthy due to pure hatred."

"I found myself feeling really, really annoyed with the world that this book is allowed to exist. We live in a universe where the passenger pigeon is extinct but this book goes along merrily being read by unsuspecting lovers of words and ideas and stories? It just seems like too much, you know?"

"Don't do it. Don't spring the cash for the hardcover. Instead, eat an entire bag of Twizzlers, spend some money you don't have at a high-end department store, look up on Facebook the shady college boyfriend that made you cry, research the current value of your home or 401K and then read all about how the big hedge fund managers are faring during the economic crisis. You'll feel about the same stomach pain if you waste your time reading this book."

"This wretched novel begins with the mugging of an old lady and it appears I may be in the process of repeating that loathsome crime as [author] was 78 when she wrote it. It is not nice to put the boot into such a poor defenseless old creature lying there with only a damehood, a Booker Prize and a few million quid. It’s a nasty job but somebody has to do it."

"I think this is the way dead people would write, if they could."

"I am considering setting up SPABB: Society for the Protection of Accurate Book Blurb. This blurb appears to have been written by someone from the publishers who met [the author] the night before, got very drunk, lost his notes and then constructed something in a fug of hangover the next morning."

"I congratulate [the author] on the early half of his book, which was thoroughly fun and made me laugh and think. I congratulate [the author] on the second half of his book, for finishing it. It reads like that was difficult."

"…a woman whose taste in contemporary literature has roughly the same batting average as a pitcher in the National League."

"The author is a pompous windbag."

"Recommends it for: No one. Recommended to me by: A friend who apparently wished to cause me great suffering."

"Makes me wonder: is it possible to obtain similes at a volume discount?"

"The repeated phrases made me want to mail a thesaurus to the author."

"I'm disappointed in myself for finishing this book."

"if the author described [character's] eyes as "obsidian" one more time I was tempted to write her and ask if her thesaurus broke."

"They say that an infinite number of monkeys with an infinite number of typewriters would, if given infinite time, eventually produce the complete works of William Shakespeare. [This book], on the other hand, would probably take the average monkey just under two hours."

"I can't imagine what the author had to do to get this nadir of Western literature printed on innocent trees, but he does seem to know a LOT about being well-connected in New York."

"This book is so bad it is almost worth reading just to make you appreciate the other books you are reading."

"Reads like it was written by a brilliant author, the night before it was due."

"raises interesting questions, like: can a book be so bad as to constitute an act of terrorism"

"has this author ever spoken to a human woman"

"This acorn has fallen so far from the tree that it can’t even see the forest."

"I’m guessing they are touted as ‘beach reads’ because no one will care if they get dropped into the ocean."

"This book begins with all the energy of a hand vacuum near the end of its battery life, and the pace doesn't quicken much from there."

"At least everybody’s eyes stayed the same color this time around.”

Part 2

Part 3

#the diss list #book review #goodreads #tumblrarians #literary criticism #library #bargepole

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jacenbren · 7 months ago

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Some actual canonical things that have happened in the children’s cartoon Ninjago: Masters of Spinjitzu

Emo theater kid manages to crawl out of hell thanks to pure spite and tries to murder his adoptive cousin

A main character becomes a tyrannical ruler of another realm for over a century while under the influence of mind control and commits acts of genocide (this is never brought up again)

The elderly mentor figure of the main cast gets de-aged into a baby and his students are left struggling to figure out how to change his diapers while fending off an attacking biker gang

An entire season’s worth of story gets wiped from existence after a main character is accidentally killed in an attempt to destroy an evil genie

A teenaged girl kills two different eldritch gods on two separate occasions

The devil from the Bible reincarnates as an evil computer virus and is later killed in a nuclear explosion set off by an autistic robot

The main characters enter a talent show to recover an ancient artifact which results in one of them coming out to his dad

A world-famous noodle restaurant chain is revealed to be a front for a cult whose leader puts on an elaborate tournament in an attempt to gain the power necessary to transform himself and his followers into snake people

A chicken with lightning powers terrorizes the main characters in their home for several days

A character dresses in drag in an attempt to uncover the identity of a vigilante that has been stealing the main cast’s thunder (he is wildly unsuccessful)

#anytime I think about this show I’m reminded of how batshit insane it is #feel free to add other notable incidents I forgot to mention in the tags lol #lego ninjago #ninjago masters of spinjitzu #ninjago

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rueclfer · 4 months ago

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casual // touya todoroki

when the boy you're in love with wants to keep it casual.

a/n: give me a gun. pt 2? or should we leave it here hehe

part 2

"You sure you're qualified to do this?" Touya eyed your concentrated expression through the mirror to your right. His head rested in your lap as you mark his ear, making sure it was as lined up and even as it could be next to his existing piercing.

"Of course I am." You say in a hushed tone, wiping off the needle with a cotton pad soaked with the rubbing alcohol you found under the sink. "You know, I pierced Toga's ears?"

"What? When was this?" He jokingly pouts. "So I'm not the only one you're putting needles through?"

You smiled at this hint of jealousy. You two had been close friends for a while- more so in the realm of friends with benefits, but of course you wanted more of him than he was willing to give you.

"Unfortunately not, pretty boy." You chuckle.

It was a late and quiet night, but of course you two couldn't sleep. Last week it was you padding away to his front door, which was left cracked open for you. This time, it was him that came knocking on your window.

"Why did I agree to this again?" He mutters in annoyance.

"You're the one who came down my fire escape remember?" You cock an eyebrow.

"Yeah, and last time you came to mine, I got an undercut. So shouldn't it be me terrorizing your appearance instead?"

"You're acting like the undercut was the only thing you received." You meet his glance in the mirror, which he returned with a knowing wink. A faint blush brushed over your cheeks, causing you to avert your gaze.

"Besides, it looks hot, and you'll be okay." You lean in to whisper in his ear, planting a soft kiss on his sideburn. "It'll only hurt for a second."

"You are dangerous. Absolutely no good for me." He sighs in defeat. "No countdown, okay?"

"Say less." You instantly pierce through the soft flesh, watching his face scrunch in discomfort. "Needle is in." You say with content.

"Let me see." He sits up, and scoots forwards towards the mirror, looking at the needle sticking through his lobe. "God that looks freaky."

"C'mere and let me put the jewelry in."

"First, One more kiss, for being so brave."

Your cheeks flush as you lean in, letting him close the space between you two. His hand finds his way to the nape of your neck, letting himself lean in deeper.

"Wicked, dangerous, captivating, beautiful thing." He mutters against your lips. "The things I let you do to me."

"Be careful or else I'll start thinking you like me." You put your hand on his chest to lightly push him back.

"You know I do, silly girl." He quickly presses another kiss to your nose.

"Shut up." You smile and reach up to grab his chin, angling his ear towards you. With the clean earring, you swiftly replace the needle with the stud.

"And done. Not so bad, huh?" You looked at your work in pride.

You stand up to throw out the bloody q-tips and safety pin. After tossing the biohazards, you turn around to see him throwing on his coat and take one last look at his fresh piercing in the mirror.

"Are you leaving already?" A twang of disappointment twists in your stomach. "No sleepover?"

"Nah, gotta sleep in my own bed at least once this week." He huffs out a chuckle, running his hand through his messy hair. "Gotta make rent worth it, you know?"

Oh.

"So true." a deflated chuckle exhales from you. "See you around then, Touya." You follow him to the window. The cold breeze rushed through, sweeping your hair out of your face.

"I'm having our people over tomorrow night for a little kickback. Of course you're invited. See you there?"

You force a light smile on your lips. "Yeah, maybe."

"Sweet. Goodnight, Y/N." He begins climbing up the fire escape and leaves you with a pinch on the cheeks and a bitter taste in your mouth.

#is it casual now?#screaming!!!#bnha #mha #mha x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #dabixreader #dabi #dabi x reader #todoroki touya #touya todoroki #dabi todoroki

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crossingthedreams · 29 days ago

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no one else to turn to — aemond targaryen x sister-wife!reader

masterlist | day 16 (@angstober) — no one else to turn to

summary: in aemond’s mind, everything he did, he did to protect his family. what he didn’t realize was how much he was hurting them in the process.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: angst. targaryen incest (brother/sister). arranged marriage. sexism. reader is one of the greens (i’m not though). slight reader x aegon, if you squint. no use of y/n. not proofread.

You were more than somebody’s wife, somebody’s sister, somebody’s daughter or somebody’s grandchild. That’s what the men in your life constantly failed to understand. You were a person before you were, involuntarily, theirs.

The matter at hand wasn’t your right to an opinion, but a right to your very own identity.

Somehow, all of the sentences coming out of your brother’s mouth began with “as a child of…”, “as the sister of…”, always justifying how you should be by taking the men in your life and putting their wellbeing and their thoughts above your own. it was degrading and belittled you, not as a Targaryen Princess — which, make no mistake, you most certainly were — but as a human being worth of the same rights as any men.

You stomped angrily towards your sister’s room, eager to share your frustrations. It wasn’t until you were inside that you were reminded she’d be very little conversational. All your worries faded momentarily when you saw Helaena curled up on the couch, a green duvet in her hands and gaze lost in the distance.

It was only a few weeks since the terror she was put through with her children. She looked so small now, and she was barely older than you.

You sat next to her, but didn’t touch her. Before the terrible events, Helaena already disliked being touched. Now, you didn’t even want to risk it. Poor girl, she didn’t deserve all this sorrow and stress.

“Sister”, you called, quietly, trying to enter her vision camp. “Sister, it’s me”.

“She won’t talk right now”.

Your mother’s voice came from the entry, and she was elegant as always. The grief clothing she wore for your father and nephew suited her. As you turned to look at her, your back straightened instantly. Your memory of tedious suppers during which she would tap your leg to fix your posture was immediate, and you didn’t want to relieve it.

She approached the both of you, and sat near Helaena without saying a word. You wondered if this was her daily ritual.

“I believed you’d be at your brother’s side, dear”, the Queen Alicent said to you, without taking her eyes off Helaena. She passed her hands through the disheveled hair of the current Queen, and you realized you hadn’t responded.

“I was”, you began, unsure whether it would be wise to continue. Not because of your family, but of the servants. Anything could go back to your brother and, depending on his mood, even the kindest words spoken about him would do you more harm than good.

Your mother raised her brown eyes to meet yours, “I see”.

Your gaze moved from your mother to your sister back and forth, before deciding this room was much too crowded. You excused yourself, filled with a new sense of horror as you left the room. Even the Queen couldn’t be protected, so what hope was there for the common woman?

You walked slowly back to your chambers, which were joined with your husband’s. You were just shy of six-and-ten at the day of your wedding, and your mother was adamant that there would be no bedding ceremony.

Your husband, then, in an unusual act of selflessness and kindness, chose to wait a while, until it was you who came to him. The joined room’s were his idea after the first night you spent together. That way you could have your space and still come to him, and have him come to you, too.

In that aspect, you were lucky. When Helaena was pregnant, she talked more, and she mentioned Aegon would be in and out of her in five minutes, and only every other night. What an awful relationship.

Yet, Aegon was still your brother, and he was severely wounded after the Battle of Rook’s Rest that took Princess Rhaenys’ life. You weren’t close to her, but you knew her, and she was always kind to you. It was a terrible loss caused by this senseless war.

According to your dearest brother, though, you didn’t have a clue as to what was necessary to the Realm.

The memory of it made you tear the necklace you were wearing and throw it against a wall. Your maid called your name, and she probably saw you as a petty, annoying Princess right now, throwing a tantrum like a child.

You stilled your breath, and turned towards her. “Please make arrangements for me to see the King this afternoon”, you told her. You hated giving orders. That was something your brother Daeron wrote about to you constantly.

Later that day, you still had your family in your mind. How did you all become such a mess?

You practically tiptoed inside Aegon’s chambers, unsure to what he’d be, look or act like. You hadn’t seen him since before the battle, and all you knew your mother and husband had told you. Apparently, he looked terrible, felt a lot of pain and was but a shell of who he used to be.

When you found his figure, laying on the bed, you realized they had been too kind in describing his state.

He was burnt in a way you had never seen before, and it went down to his body beneath the covers. His hair had mostly fallen, and his ear melted to his ear. The pain he must have felt… You felt awful. There had to be something you could do to ease him. He wasn’t a wise man, nor was he the most galant, but he was your big brother.

“What are you doing here?”, he said with difficulty, before you could even open your mouth.

You looked into his eyes, the violet of it paler than ever. Before you could speak, you decided to sit at the chair by his bedside, so you weren’t looking down on him.

“I had no one else to turn to”, you decided to tell him the truth. He remained quiet, but you saw something shift in his gaze at the realization he was still needed, and not useless. You let your head drop to your hands, feeling ridiculous to be complaining to a man who had just survived dragon fire and the loss of a child.

Still, the tears began to fall.

“You may talk”.

At his bed, burnt beyond recognition, without a crown — that was the first time you saw Aegon as a King.

Your head raised, and you wiped away your tears. Before you began, your back instinctively straightened.

“Mother is… well, mother”, you both let out a breathy laugh. “She’s deeply unhappy, brother. Daeron hasn’t sent news in over a fortnight, and Helaena is…”.

“I think it’s best if we skip over my dear wife, sister”, his gazer turned away from you. You felt honesty in his tone in a way you hadn’t ever. “I don’t know, and never knew, how to comfort my wife”.

“Marriage is tricky, is it not?”, you tried to lighten the mood, making a small jest. However, Aegon didn’t laugh.

“I’m sorry I didn’t fight harder for you”.

Your confusion must have been clear, because he continued, even though it clearly hurt for him to speak. “You were just a child, and you were thrown into a man’s bed, which can be quite the insalubrious environment, as I have been made aware. It kills me to think what married life must be for you and Helaena”.

“It wasn’t your fault”, you said, with sincerity too. “You were a kid, and you were thrown into all this. We deserved better, brother”.

You didn’t want him to cry anymore than you wanted to cry yourself. When you saw the tears in his eyes, you stood up and kissed the top of his head. A gesture of fraternity.

A sound came from the door, and when you turned, you saw the man who was the object of many conversations you had lately.

Aemond Targaryen was a complicated man, with more nuance to him than poetry, and sharper than a dagger. Your older brother who, at adolescence, took you as his wife before the Seven and, later, in a Valyrian ceremony for your family.

The fear that emanated from Aegon as soon as he saw Aemond was perceptible. You had no idea what happened amongst them, and as much as you wished to find out, you knew some things were out of your reach, even with deep curiosity.

“My love”, Aemond greeted you with a kiss on the cheek, as if nothing happened earlier. He then looked over to Aegon, taking his hands and kissing them gently. “My dear brother”.

Aegon was quiet now, still afraid.

Aemond’s hand found the small of your back as he guided you outside, not letting you say goodbye. He said it for you before the door slammed behind you, and Aegon was left alone inside once more.

“What were you doing in there?”, he demanded to know, the hand that laid carefully on your back now grabbing your arm as he walked with you in the direction of your joined chambers.

There was a part of you that refused to talk, whilst the other wanted nothing more than to rub his face in… in whatever that with Aegon was. Unfortunately, mysterious didn’t do it for you.

“Conversing with my brother, the King, who is severely injured and in need of company”, you spatted.

“I know he is injured”, Aemond grunted.

“Of course you do, after all, you were there”, you replied as coldly as you could. He turned to you immediately, his one lilac eye almost in flames.

“What are you implying?”, he said between gritted teeth.

“Absolutely nothing”. You moved your face closer to his, letting him see you smile.

You didn’t fight often with Aemond. He was your husband, your older brother and you loved him dearly… Most of the time. Today, though, today he pissed you off — and you had earned the right to piss him off right back.

“Certainly you do not think me capable of any sort of con or coup, my love”, the irony that flooded in your voice was unfamiliar even to yourself. “After all, I am but a woman”, you mirrored his words from earlier that day, when you were called upon by the Small Council to fight alongside your husband and brother. Your refusal made Aemond cruel towards you, battering words you’d never thought you’d hear from the man who shared your bed.

His one eye closed, and he let go of your arm, that would surely be bruised for days from the sheer strength he held you. You let out a long breath as your husband approached the opposite side of the corridor, the one with a view to the Winter Garden. From the garden, you could hear your mother’s voice. The long sleeved black dress you wore, with gold, green and red details, was enough to cover whichever bruises you might have. From this ridiculous exchange with Aemond or any other affair.

You sighed profusely, both from tiredness and to get Aemond’s attention. His head turned a little to look over his shoulder, but he didn’t make eye contact.

“Am I excused?”, you broke the silence, annoyed still. “Or am I to watch as you pout like a child looking for mother?”

He turned so quickly towards you his hair made a whoosh sound. He pointed one finger at you, lips pressing against each other, and then threw his hands in the air.

“I don’t know what you want from me, woman!”, he exclaimed, turning around once more so your eyes didn’t meet his.

It was wiser to let him vent at this moment instead of making another remark, so you waited for him to continue.

“All I do, I do for you”, he lowered his tone, still avoiding your gaze. “And yet, here you are. An unappreciative, ungrateful little girl”.

“Mind your tongue”, you said, feeling your blood boil. You squeezed your eyes, hand still on the arm he handled with such force earlier. “I am not a whore you visit whenever you please and talk as you please, I am the daughter of King Viserys Targaryen and sister of King Aegon Targaryen. You will not speak to me this way”.

You’d never heard silence quite this loud.

“If I cannot count on you, Aemond, then who will I turn to?”

“You can count on me to defend you, sister, but…”

“Who will defend me from you, brother?”, you interrupted him, letting the frown between your eyebrows grow. “Who will stand up for me when you bring me down in front of those pampered men thinking they can order me and my dragon around, not knowing the first thing from either me or Silverwing?”

Aemond straightened his back. He looked cold, distant at your firm tone. What an interesting sight it was for any servant who passed at the moment. The Prince Regent and his wife, in a staring match at the halls.

There was an old saying that whenever a Targaryen is born, the gods toss a coin, and the whole world holds their breath to see which way would it land: greatness or madness.

There was another thing about Targaryens, as you came to realize. The terrible loneliness. None of you had, truly had, one another. You heard the rumors about Daemon and Rhaenyra. You saw before your own eyes Aegon and Helaena. You knew the stories about what your father did to the late Queen Aemma, who was as much of a Targaryen as any of you.

You loved your husband. That was exactly why it pained you so to realize you had no one else to turn to.

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igotanidea · 5 months ago

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Boyfriend thing: Dick Grayson x reader

AKA: the wealth gap XD

***

When she started dating Dick, he quickly learned that spoiling her by taking to the best restaurants and fancy places was a no go.

It was heartbreaking, seeing her get self-conscious as the fake belief of not being good enough and not belonging in such premises haunted her mind.

Y/N would simply crouch in her chair, doing her best to shrink or better yet - to disappear so that no one would give her any look, believing she was Dick's dependent, or maybe even --.

Well the rest of that thought was getting blocked all the time. Nonetheless it was clear as day that she was uncomfortable just from staring at the prices on the menu or summary of the purchase of tickets for a concert or other event.

So having her best interest in mind, and driven solely by feelings for her, Dick slowly started picking four stars places instead of five, taking her to vacation to the places off the top5 destination list and purchasing second raw festival entries instead of first.

In his own opinion this was a bit downgrading and almost lower class, but he could suffer a little less luxury for her.

In her opinion it was all too much. Why was he spending all that on her? She was not worth it and it was all redundant and unnecessary and not what she was used to, being raised with four older siblings in a little house, learnt to watch every little expense. Definitely not having enough to order lobster for dinner or fly to Paris just to watch the sunset from the Eiffel Tower.

So one day, sitting in the little cafe where the cheapest beverage (water) was 20 $ she decided to speak up.

"Dick..." the resolve to clear the situation died on her tongue.

"Yeah? What's up Y/N?" Dick grinned, raising head from his creme brulee to meet her eyes. "Hey... hey, what's wrong?" the look on her face alarmed him immediately. "Aren’t you enjoying your dessert?"

"I am. I am, it's delicious! I just think that maybe...." whatever she thought was spoken up incoherently and with a heavy blush on her cheeks.

"Hm? Care to repeat that last part? I didn;t quite get it."

"I-think-I-should-pay-for-half-the-price-for-our-food." she said again on one exhale and with even more red face.

Dick almost choked on his food, starting to cough like he was dying on the spot, his mind spiralling.

"P-pay in half?" he stuttered as if those words were bringing him physical pain. "What do you mean pay in half?! Y/N?"

"It's a normal thing to do--"

"No?" he looked at her with terror and incredulity.

"Look, you cannot just--"

"I can and I will." he quickly snatched her bag from within her reach so she wouldn;t even get a glimpse of the idea to reach for her purse.

"Come on, please. This is not right. I got my own mon--"

Now he was sure he was getting into a cardiac attack. Was she suggesting that she used her money to use on the attraction he was obligated to provide as her boyfriend?

"Y/N... honey, look at me..." he grabbed her hand above the table, interlacing their fingers, waiting patiently for her to meet his gaze. "Who hurt you....?" His tone was soft and sweet upon realising that if she's acting like this, there must have been something in her past. "Who made you believe that--?"

"I feel like I owe you and--"

"O-owe me....?" holy shit, now he was for sure dead, cause her words were like a ton of bricks thrown on him. "For what? For loving you? For wanting to give you all the best? For making sure that all the things we do make you smile?"

"I'm not used to--" her gaze travelled lower, glued to the ground "I always thought-- I mean, other guys--"

"If they made you believe you owe them for things, they weren;t even worthy of that name." Dick scoffed, getting angry at whoever mistreated her. Making a silent promise to himself to track all those assholes down, one way or another. "Look. Normal thing is that a man provides for the woman he loves. And -" he added quickly, sensing she was about to chime in, "And before you start talking about equality I assure you, I am all up for it. But I need to pamper you ok? It;s a must, cause I might die if I don;t." he teased a little.

"You're such a drama queen" she chuckled

"Made you laugh though." he leaned over the table and kissed her cheek "but seriously, Y/N, you give me something that money can never buy - love, happiness... And I suppose that this-" he gestured over the table "-is a poor attempt to show you how much I love you too."

"But I know it."

"I know you do, but what’s worth the money if you have no one to share it with? So, please, on all that's holy, do not ever feel guilty for helping me spend this fortune in the best possible way."

"Which is?"

"Making memories with you." he smiled genuinely, his heart melting upon seeing the real happiness reflected in her eyes at the words. "So? What’s it gonna be? You'll let me do the boyfriend thing or should we call for an ambulance already?"

"You know how much I hate hospitals." Y/N chuckled rolling her eyes playfully "And that is my only reason for letting you do your boyfriend thing. "Because I'd hate to be the lovesick girl waiting in the corridor while her man is fighting for life."

"Works for me." Dick grinned "Now shall we order those world famous gelatos they have here...?"

masterlist

June 2024 masterlist

Requests are open ! :)

#dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x y/n #nightwing x y/n #dick grayson x you #nightwing x you #dick grayson fluff #nightwing fluff

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glader13 · 10 months ago

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Me and the Devil

A/N: this is true form/ Heian period Sukuna x Heian period reader

“Was this your plan all along?” You asked, “To make me have your son?”

He couldn’t hide his smirk and neither could you as you rested your body on top of his, staring into his fiery eyes, hands getting lost in his pink hair. Instead of answering, he trapped you with his arms, pressing your warm bodies even closer together. You kissed his neck, moving to his jawline, before finally landing on his lips. The kiss was lazy and sweet as his tongue softly caused your mouth to open, much different from bruising kisses just moments earlier.

“Kissing isn’t an answer,” you said, finally pulling away from him, “But I’m assuming it’s yes.”

“One of them,” he murmurs, caressing your back, as you lay down on top of him, “But you had most of the plans already thought out.”

You smiled softly, your fingers lazily tracing the markings on his skin. You didn’t fail to notice how he relaxed under the touch of your fingers, as if he was holding his breath before then. You stopped tracing his markings, and held his hand, staring into the garden, wondering if this is something, or if you are a glorified servant. He treats you like something special, he acts like you are, but are you truly worth his time? Or did he use you to help expand his reign of terror? The gifts, the jewels, the intimate moments together when he calls you his or mine, have some truth to it, right?

You have never dared to say those three words, but you thought about it, each time when he fucked you delirious, the words were always on your tongue, ready to spill over. But the binding curse, he wouldn’t do that to anyone, you hoped that he did it with the intention to keep you close, forever by his side. You hoped that it was a silent act of love, of his devotion. Your back seemed to tickle from the remembrance of the light strokes of the curse being imprinted, questioning him about how it works. You remember his kisses on your shoulders and back as you sat in between his legs, a pair of arms holding you against him as the other pair drew the curse. He explained something about if he gets sealed and awakened again, you will too, no matter how far in the future, he’ll have you. You remember feeling his dark eyes on you, waiting to see how you would react as you sat in the candlelight, feeling so close to him. As if the two of you shared one breath, feeling as if your hearts were beating as one.

“To be by your side would be an honor,” you told him then, lacing your hands together, despite wanting to say something else. Now, you felt the same three words again burning into your mind and tongue, you needed to say them so you could hear them fall from his lips. You were only aware of him and how his heart was beating steadily against your body, reverberating throughout your being. You were aware of how you yearned for him, aching for a confirmation of his love.

“Do you fear anything?” You asked, those words still on the tip of your tongue, though you were still unable to tell him.

“No,” you felt his voice rumble from his chest to your body, “Why should I have to fear anything?”

You pressed further, “To lose anything, do you fear that? That something you hold onto so closely will be taken away. You don’t fear that at all?”

You didn’t notice, but his eyes did finally lower to your face, then to your hand, which was hidden by his larger one. You felt his arms shift around you as if he was trying to hold you closer, as you relaxed in his arms, waiting for his answer, “Do you?” He asked.

“With all that’s been happening,” you sighed, “Sometimes I believe that being strong isn’t enough.”

“Well,” he says, gently holding the bottom of your face, forcing you to look into his dark eyes, “It’s irrational, so stop. You don’t need to let fear control you, not when someone as strong as me controls the earth that you walk on.”

“Understood, King of Curses,” you smiled, at which he rolled his eyes.

You slowly drifted into sleep, lulled by a mixture of his heart and the constant strokes of his fingers, he thought of how he got here, with you on him. Abused by everyone because of what you could do and see, you stumbled upon his palace. He could feel the untamed power radiating from you, and it intrigued him, along with your attitude towards him. But with some time, you convinced him to help you with your anger, and he watched you kill those who wronged you. In the blood, and the chaos of your smile, your eyes bled with something that he craved, and he was taken aback. Noticing more than just your power, it was beauty in the chaos.

He thought of these moments and watched you fall asleep all with a tightened jaw. He could never tell you about the moments when irrational fear would come over him when it comes to you and your safety, to your mortality. The attacks from those who are against him, who want to kill him, have been getting stronger, and more coordinated. Involving you when they can’t get to him. These sorcerers have focused their attention on stopping his reign and any attempts of it in the future, they don’t know if the two of you could have a child, hell, the two of you don’t even know. But with your curse technique mixed with Sukuna’s, they don’t want to take that chance. Outside of spreading his bloodline, you’re no saint, the blood of your village and countless others on your hands. They have a reason to kill you.

Your techniques, what makes you so valuable and formidable, is what makes you a target, causing him to feel irrational. It causes rage to course through him when he sees you with your injuries as you would sweetly tell him to not worry. It’s why he has kept you here as he would leave for his tasks, with Uraume to watch you. He does fear losing you, and in moments like this when you’re lying so peacefully on him, is when he feels it the most. Is this what humans call love, this feeling of wanting to protect you? Is this fear love? He lightly caressed your face, knowing that he would raze the world if your heart were to ever stop prematurely, nothing would be safe from him.

He quietly chuckles to himself, assuming that this is love.

A/N: This could be a part of a larger story, so please let me know what you think ☺️✌🏾

Part 2

#x fem!reader #anime x reader #anime x female reader #drabble #jujutsu kaisen #jujitsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #ryomen sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #heian era #sukuna x female reader

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