#but this face definitely warranted it

[link-sans-specs]

This beautiful cartoon boy.

GMM2457

Which Body Part is Cracking?

[1doesnotsimplyhavejust1fandam]

This has unfortunately been the summer of rpf for me, so I feel obliged to note that there was not a single Bengal besides Joe on that field trying to hold Ja’Marr back. They all saw how pissed Ja’Marr was, and decided to let Joe handle him all on his own😭

[mlobsters]

person of interest s1e8 foe

🍵

[bobombun]

Had the silliest first experience of the Conclave recently.

I first did a mission that I assume made you incapable of using your guns, which went fine, no biggie, got to see a teammate Wukong Prime turn into a beyblade with the longest reach in history which was also nice. Mission ends, I leave the squad, and that's that.

Then I decide to test out the Conclave. I'm usually not that into PvP, but I figure I'll give it a shot anyways, see how it is. I end up in a 1v2 fight because apparently PvP is less than popular and we didn't have enough players for full teams. I'm a bit worried, since I figure the others are probably super high level veteran players who'll obliterate me by just looking my way, and I'm facing two of them.

I find one person, and try to use my gun. Nothing happens. I try to switch to the other gun. Nothing happens.

Did... the game not re-equip my guns after the last mission?

Surely not. It must be the Conclave game mode I chose. Right?

Then I see the opponent use a gun, and yeah. I am in PvP with only my melee weapon with me, as a first timer.

No biggie.

Long story short, I assume they must've been first timers as well, because using only a melee weapon was surprisingly effective, especially when combined with the shield Volt has against projectiles.

That's possibly the proudest and also the silliest victory I've ever had in PvP.

[foxstens]

genuinely tho how does blushing work

[bugunlikeanangel]

exposure therapy (looking at a picture of a guy i like to build up to actually gaining the capacity to look him in the face when we hang out)

[katsu28]

summer's golden haze - chapter one

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: a small town somewhere in beautiful greece, early morning coffee runs, and the cute boy that you keep running into. (4.8k)

warnings: sort of shy!reader, a bit of swearing, lando being both smooth and a little awkward

a/n: series masterlist coming soon :)

“That guy is totally checking you out.” 

You reluctantly drag your attention away from the truly addicting pasta you’d ordered to meet your friend’s gaze across the table, slightly suspicious, but also a little curious as to what she’s talking about.

Samira is grinning knowingly at you already, mischievously, like she’s got a tasty bit of information you don’t know about. Probably not tastier than the food in front of you, but your interest is piqued nonetheless. 

“What guy?” You sigh, giving into your curiosity quite easily. She arches a perfectly sculpted brow at you, then tilts her head to the side discreetly, and you follow her gaze towards—

Oh. That guy. 

You saw him on your way to your seat at first, a group of four guys sitting a few tables away in the same patio area of the restaurant, drawing your attention even before you’d sat down. Artfully messy brown curls swept up out of his face, thick dark brows framing bright eyes crinkled with laughter at something his friend had said, you’d felt yourself growing conscious of the man’s existence with just one glance. 

And then his gaze had flicked to your friends passing his table, but more importantly, your own gaze, and you’d nearly stumbled on your own feet.

Your cheeks had grown hot at the intensity of his stare following your path to your seat, not to mention the embarrassment that had flooded your veins at the thought of nearly eating shit in front of this very attractive stranger. 

Had you grown the nerve to look back at him at the time, you would’ve seen his lips quirk into a goofy grin, as well as all the shoving he’d gotten from his friends as they’d caught wind of his unabashed staring. 

Now you’re almost done with your meal, and you could swear you’ve felt him looking at you plenty more times. Not that it mattered at all, because your eyes have been firmly glued to your food and your friends only. 

Okay, so you might’ve hastened a few covert glances over in his direction too, but he’s been chatting away to his friends every time, so maybe you’re just making nothing into something. 

“Don’t even try to hide it, you’ve been making eyes at him too, girl,” Your other friend, Maren, pipes up, elbowing you in the arm playfully. The last of your girls, Camille, nods her agreement, smiling gleefully. “He’s hot.”  

Right, so perhaps not as covert as you’d thought. 

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” You reply, spearing another piece of pasta through your fork. You’re kicked under the table at that moment, hard enough to warrant the whine that escapes your mouth. “What?” Now you're met with three pointed glares your way. “Okay, fine. Yeah, he’s cute.” 

“Go talk to him!” 

“Go flirt with him!” 

“Absolutely not!” You exclaim. Your voice comes out louder than you intend and you duck your head quickly, worried you’d disturbed the peace of the quiet area. “He’s probably got a girlfriend already or something.” 

“If he does, she better dump his ass because he's been giving you fuck me eyes all damn night.” 

“No, he has not,” You hiss, which only gets you yet another look from them. You’re starting to get tired of all these looks, actually. “Has he? I mean—are they? Fuck me eyes?” 

“Oh yeah, he—” 

Camille clears her throat, cutting Samira off. “No, they’re not,” She assures you, placing a hand over yours. “He’s been smiling every time he looks over.”

“Maybe he’s looking at one of you guys?” 

“He’s definitely been looking at you.” 

You bite your lip, nose scrunching skeptically. You haven’t really been the subject of any guy’s attention before, let alone one as handsome as this one. You’ve learned it’s better not to get your hopes up when it comes to certain situations. This seems like one of them. “Are you sure?” 

“If I’m wrong, I’ll give you back your share of the villa rental.” 

“Can I get that in writing, or…?” 

Before any of them can come up with a smart remark, a plate is placed into the center of the table, on which is a large square of baklava, light and flaky with that sweet, sugary filling spilling out the sides of the piece that almost makes your mouth water. You’d seen it in the dessert section of the menu earlier, but had decided against ordering it in favor of trying an appetizer instead. 

“Oh, excuse me? We didn’t order this,” Maren speaks up, looking up at the waiter. 

He does a half turn, sweeping an arm in a vague direction. “It is from the gentleman in the blue shirt.” 

You follow his gaze, and fuck, your heart skips a beat in your chest, because it’s him. It’s the same guy you’ve been drawn to all night, and he’s actually looking right back at you this time. His hand comes up in a wave, then back down to his side almost immediately, like he’s worried about it seeming too eager, before settling with a reserved nod. All the while, he’s still got that smile gracing his face that makes your stomach flip flop. 

“He sent over a dessert?!?! I am so keeping that money, girl,” Camille hums, picking up her fork to dig in while Samira and Maren voice their agreement. 

You, on the other hand, well…you’re not sure what to think. You appreciate the gesture, but you're also confused. Why did he send something over? What did he want? 

It doesn't occur to you that he’s truly taken an interest in you until you're huddled outside with your friends talking next steps of the night. Whether you want to keep exploring this new place, or call it a day and go home. You’re firmly on the latter’s side because you're tired. But you’ll go along with whatever is decided. 

The guy and his friends have coincidentally left the restaurant at the same time as you did, judging by the sudden commotion that erupts behind you. Like a moth drawn to a flame, your gaze lands on him yet again, only this time, you actually lock eyes with him. Something jolts through you, something electric up your spine like a tiny shock. Something you’ve never felt before. You shove the foreign feeling deep down, no matter how much you’d like to explore it. 

He looks away, teeth sunk into his bottom lip to quell the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, and you avert your wandering eyes too, before anyone else notices. Evidently you’re a little too slow, because all three of your friends catch on instantly. 

“Go talk to him already.” Camille says matter-of-factly. 

“No, I—what do I even say?” 

“Maybe hello would be a good start?” 

You press your lips together, unimpressed, and you get a snicker in return, something about how you're not asking for his hand in marriage, you’re just trying to make conversation. It’s not that you don’t want to talk to him, it’s that you’re not exactly sure how to approach it. You’ve already convinced yourself of the worst, but to possibly have it play out in real life is a tangible fear of yours, and always has been. 

One of your girls (you’re willing to bet more money it’s Maren) gives you a not so gentle shove towards him, as does one of his friends over in his group. Now you’ve got no choice. You meet each other in the middle, just looking at each other for a few moments. It’s awkward and you have half a mind to turn and go, but then he speaks. 

“Hey,” He says. 

“Hi,” You reply shyly, shifting on your feet nervously. He shoves both hands into his pockets. He looks a bit nervous too, which does a significant wonder to calm you. “Thank you for the baklava. It was delicious.” 

“Yeah, of course. Glad you guys liked it. Figured you can’t go wrong with a classic.” He bobs his head, shoulders creeping up towards his ears in a shrug before dropping back down. “I’m Lando, by the way.” 

Lando. It’s not a name you’re expecting, but it suits him well. 

He sticks his hand out almost instinctively, like he’s been conditioned to do so. Maybe he has, considering the aura of professionality it gives off when you do shake his hand. 

His palm is smooth and warm against yours, long fingers curling around your hand like the sincere smile that curls his lips as you tell him your name in return. Dimples bracket his mouth on both sides. 

The handshake almost lasts a little too long for two people who’ve just met literally a few moments ago, as does the way his eyes linger upon yours. 

Even in the dark of the night, illuminated only by the warm glow of the lamps above you, you can see him much better up close. His sunkissed skin does little to hide the flushed pink on his cheeks that travels down to his chest, disappearing under the generously unbuttoned blue linen. You feel exposed under his intense gaze, looking back at those mesmerizing eyes. Blue, green, gray—maybe a mix of all three, you’re not sure, but you can’t help but want to figure it out. 

Then you remember that you don’t know this guy at all, and it brings you back to reality. 

“Lando, like…the guy from Star Wars?” You ask. It breaks the invisible tether between the two of you and he smiles, laughs a little bit too. 

He shrugs casually. “Not according to my mum and dad, but I do get that a lot.” 

“You must get tired of hearing it from people then.”

His head tilts to one side, smile going endearingly lopsided. “Depends on the person. Like, I didn’t mind when you said it just now.” You’re not sure how to respond to that, so you just smile, and he takes your reaction in stride, moving on. “Are you guys from around here, or…” 

“No, actually, we’re—um, we’re just here on holiday.”

“Oh, same! Yeah, we’ve been here a few days now, it’s been great. Is this your first time in Greece?” He asks, smile turning warm. You nod. “Have you checked out the local market yet?”

“Can’t say we have yet, no. We just got in the day before last, so…still figuring out our footing first. But I’ll keep it in mind, thank you!” 

Lando inhales sharply, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Hey, y’know, if you want, maybe we could—” 

“Oi, Lando! Let’s go, mate!” 

He glances back over at his friends, one of whom is waving for him to return to his group rather wildly, before turning back to you. Whatever he was about to say is lost now, because he shrugs loosely. “Guess that’s my cue,” He sighs. Then his gaze softens, smile turning a little hopeful. “Will I see you around again? Small town and all.” 

“Uh…I dunno. Maybe, if it’s meant to be.” You have to try with all your might not to take the statement back, even though you really, really want to. 

If it’s meant to be—who the fuck says that? Like fate has anything to do with this miraculous interest Lando seems to have taken in you. If you were him, you’d find your words quite off putting. Instead, he smirks, crooked and cute. 

“Meant to be,” He repeats, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Yeah alright, I’ll take my chances. Have a good night.” 

You bid him a soft goodnight, barely able to stifle the giggle that spills from your mouth when he nearly trips over the cobblestones on his way back to his friends. He’s awkward, you think, but still confident. It’s cute. 

Lando stays rooted in your mind the rest of the night, all the way up until you’re lying in bed, waiting for sleep to take hold of you. It’s weird to think this much about a guy you’ve just met, a guy who you’ve only had one conversation with and have left things up to chance in terms of seeing him again. 

-------

You’re the first one awake this morning, roused from your sleep by bright sunlight pouring through the window, even through the curtains. Contemplation of going back to sleep crosses your mind, but it’s no use. You’re up now, so you might as well make the most of your early morning. 

You love your friends dearly, but some alone time sounds like heaven right about now. There’s a coffee spot not far from where you’re staying that you remember seeing on your way in that seems like a perfect match to your solo walk, so you head there. You’ll be a nice friend and bring coffee home for when they eventually wake up too. 

After dropping them a text letting them know you’ve gone out, you set off. The walk back into town is short but serene, a welcome change from the hustle and bustle of your daily lives, and a reminder of why you’d all decided to vacation in this particular region of Greece in the first place. 

Someone calls out something that sounds like your name before you can step into the shop and you pause, casting a glance around to see if your ears might be playing tricks on you. You’ve only been here a few days, and the only other person who knows you other than your friends is…Lando. 

You squint a little harder to see through the glare of the sun, and lo and behold, there he is, hands linked behind his head. The grin that lifts your face is almost embarrassing, or would’ve been had Lando not been so eager upon seeing you wave at him. 

He’s clad in athletic shorts and a cutoff tee that shows off muscles you’re trying your very hardest not to stare at as he makes his way closer, curls tucked away in a baseball cap pulled low on his head. Headphones dangle from around his neck, and he’s panting, chest rising and falling heavily very clearly once he’s stopped in front of you. 

“Hey, good morning! I thought that was you,” He breathes, attempting to catch his breath. “Early riser too, I take it?” 

“Honestly, not usually! The sun decided I would be today, though, so…here I am.” 

“Here you are. Guess it was meant to be then, huh?” He chuckles, reaching up to flip his cap backwards. If you thought he was tan the night you met, he’s even tanner in the sun, bronze skin stretching over sinewy muscle that flexes as he sweeps a hand through his hair before tugging it back down in one smooth motion. “Doing a coffee run?” 

“Yeah, I’m the only one of us awake at this hour so I figured I’d bring them back a little something.” 

“You’re a saint. I’d let my mates suffer if it were me,” Lando snorts. 

You shrug. “Guess that’s the difference between the two of us.” 

“Yeah?” He hums, looking amused. “What else is different between you and me?” 

“Well, first of all, I would never be on a run at eight in the morning. Is someone punishing you, or is this a self-inflicted torture type thing?” 

That gets another laugh out of him, shoulders shaking with mirth. “Gotta keep in shape or my trainer might try to kill me with workouts instead.” 

“You’re an athlete?” You pry, intrigued. He looks the part, you think. Lean but not skinny, strong but not massively built. A runner, maybe? 

Lando freezes a split second, rocks from foot to foot, scratching at his nose. “Kind of, yeah.” 

“What’s your sport?” 

“Uh…golf. It’s more like a hobby than anything else.” 

“Golf,” You repeat, an amused smile poking at the edges of your mouth. “Can’t say I know a thing about it.” 

“Oh, it’s definitely something else, for sure. Super intense stuff, really grueling.” His words say one thing, but he’s grinning like he’s pulling your leg, lip pulled between his teeth in that same way as last night, nose scrunching adorably as he bobs his head quickly to further sell it. 

“Sure, if you say so. But d’you think your trainer would get mad if you cut your super intense training short to grab a cup of coffee with a friend?” 

You’re almost expecting him to say no, but Lando perks up instead, eyes crinkling happily at the corners. “Not at all. Shall we?” 

Over coffee, you find that Lando is an excellent conversationalist—funny and a good listener, an even better storyteller. He asks about you without seeming pushy or prying, and because of that you feel yourself relaxing a bit in his presence. Opening yourself up to the possibility of a good thing with him, no matter how short or fleeting it may be, whether it’s friendship or something more. 

A few weeks of summer in a place you've never been with a boy you don’t know is the time to be a little bolder. Chances are you’ll never see Lando again after this trip, so why not loosen up just a little bit? 

It’s only when more people start to trickle into the shop and you start to notice Lando’s eyes shifting over your shoulder more that you realize you’ve been here with him for a while now. And judging by the dozens of missed calls and texts from all three of your friends on your phone when you go to check it for the first time since you’d left, you’ve been gone a lot longer than you said you’d be. 

You know them well enough to know that they’re not above calling the local police to send out a search party for you if you don’t find your way back soon. 

“Friends wondering where you are?” 

You nod, sending a quick message that you are indeed alive and not kidnapped like they feared, before tucking your phone away again. “Guess I better get them their coffees for sure now, or else they might not let me back in the house.” 

“Lemme buy it for them,” He offers sincerely, offering you a lopsided grin. You shake your head rapidly at the suggestion, but he continues, “I’m the reason you’ve been gone so long, the least I can do is buy them drinks. Call it an apology for making them worry, yeah?” 

“You really don’t have to, Lando.” 

“I know. I want to,” He insists, looking truly genuine. First dessert last night, now coffee today. You have half a mind to push back a little more, but you get the feeling Lando is as persistent as he is handsome, so you taking a firm stance on something like this seems like a moot point. Giving in, you nod, and he mirrors it, looking proud. 

He lets you take the lead in reciting your friends’ orders once you’ve made your way back over to the front counter, stepping forward with a hand to the small of your back to pay for the drinks before you have any bright ideas to pull one over on him and pay for them yourself. 

The barista smiles politely, pen hovering above a cardboard cup. “And a name for that?” 

Lando casts a furtive glance around the area before leaning in and saying his name quietly, as if he’s worried he’ll run into someone who he doesn’t want to see. You notice, but don’t really pay it any mind. You understand far too well not wanting to talk to someone you're unprepared for. 

Soon enough Lando’s got the drinks in hand and you’re back outside, and he’s smiling again. You’ve noticed he does that a lot when he looks at you. You’re sure you’re the same way with him. 

“My mates and I, we’re planning on having a little barbeque at our villa tomorrow night. You should come,” Lando says encouragingly, tilting his head to the side. When your brows raise in surprise, he hastily adds, “And your friends too, obviously. We’d love the company.” 

“Ah! Um, I dunno. Wouldn’t wanna crash your thing.” 

“You wouldn't be. Seriously, come hang out. We’re fun, I promise!” 

“I just—I forget if we’ve got plans, that’s all.” You’re not lying when you say it, you truly forget if you’re free tomorrow night. Most of it stems from your awful memory, but a small part of it attributes to how your brain kind of stops working properly around Lando. 

“Right, well, you figure that out, and if you find you’ve got a free evening,” He balances the drinks deftly in one hand, the other fishing his phone out of his shorts pocket and swiping at the screen briefly before holding it out to you, “text me, let me know.” 

You’re not sure where you find the boldness to tap your phone number into his contacts, but you do it with confidence, saving it under your name and a smiley face. 

“Cute.” Lando smirks, chuckling as he sends a simple hi so you've got his number too. “Now, I believe these are yours, and…maybe I’ll see you tomorrow? If it’s meant to be.” 

You smile at the mirroring of last night’s words from him as you situate the cardboard tray in your own arms. “Maybe.” 

The smile hasn’t left your face even by the time you arrive back home, because you’ve been thinking about Lando the whole way. For a stranger you’ve met only yesterday, he’s sure been occupying a lot of space in your mind. You aren’t entirely sure how to feel about it. 

You’re already prepared for the berating you’re about to get as you close the front door behind you carefully, making your way to the kitchen.

“Where the hell have you been?” 

You look up to see all three of your friends sitting around the kitchen table, and none of them look particularly happy. You smile innocently, holding up the cardboard tray of drinks up as a peace offering. “Coffee?” 

“It better come with an explanation.” 

Nodding vigorously, you dole out each drink to your friends. “It does, I swear. I didn’t just disappear, I ran into—” 

“Hold the fuck on. Why does this say Lando? Why is that man’s name on my cup—” 

“Oh my god, you did not get coffee with him without telling us!” 

“You bitch!” 

That’s how you end up telling them the whole story—running into him in town, talking for ages, and that brings you to your next point. 

“We don’t have any plans for tomorrow night, do we?” 

“There’s the vineyard tour in the afternoon, but that should end around five. Why?” 

“Lando invited us to a barbecue at his villa,” You say quickly. That gets their attention immediately, all of their eyes widening in the same shocked looks. None of them answer your question though. “Is that…something we’d be interested in?” 

Samira is the first to snap out of it, mouth curving into a playful smirk. “Invited us, or invited you?” 

“Definitely just her.” 

“Whatever! Do we wanna go or not?” You grumble, doing your best to fight the grin threatening to overtake your face. The thought of him wanting to spend time with you brings you a teensy bit of satisfaction. 

“Of course we’re going!” 

After they’re done poking fun at you, you’re able to take a moment to top out a quick message to Lando. That barbecue invite still up for grabs? 

You're not expecting an immediate answer, but your phone dings with a text back before you even set it down. 

Lando: Of course. Plans fell through? 

You: seems like you’ve really made an impression on my friends 

Lando: Not sure whether to be scared or flattered…

You: your guess is as good as mine! we’ll find out tomorrow :)

Lando: Brb gotta go call my lawyer and update my will 

“You’re texting him right now, aren’t you?” 

You look up from your phone to see Camille leaning in the doorway to your room, a soft, knowing smile on her face. “Yeah, he—uh, he says he’s looking forward to meeting you guys again.” She comes to sit beside you, looking like she wants to talk about something. You set it aside, head tilting in a silent question. 

“Do you think you’ll stay in contact with Lando after we leave?” 

“I’m not sure. Haven’t really thought about it all that much, to be honest.”

If you do think about it, you haven’t even known Lando for more than a day. You’ve only just met him yesterday, seen him twice, one of which was completely spur of the moment. So what if that spur of the moment encounter was the most connected you’ve felt to someone in a long time? 

You don’t know him, and chances are, he’s not looking for anything serious. You don’t even know if you’re looking for anything serious. 

“It’s okay if you want to.” 

“I shouldn’t want to,” You say. It feels like you’re trying to convince yourself more than anything. You look to Camille for an answer, but she just pats your hand. “Right? I’m never gonna see him again, so I shouldn’t get attached.” 

“You don’t know that for sure, do you?” 

“I guess not. It feels scary, though. Opening yourself up to something when you don't know what’ll happen.” 

Camille hums, a placating, even comforting sound to soothe your worries. She’s always been pretty good at getting you to see the brighter side in things. “There’s fun in that too. Being spontaneous, surprising yourself. You never know, Lando could be just the thing you need, the one you didn’t know you were looking for. And if not, you don’t have to see him again. A win-win, I’d say.” 

She leaves you alone to your thoughts after that, left to ponder what exactly it is you want. It might be stupid and entirely over-optimistic of you, but Lando has already pulled you in. You’re not sure what it is about him. He makes you want more, want to know more. 

Whatever happens will happen, and if things don’t work out…well, Camille is right. You never have to see Lando again. 

His name flashes across your screen later in the night, right before you’re about to go to sleep. You’ve been texting back and forth all day, but this one is different. He’s video calling you right now. 

You stare at his name for longer than you should, finger hovering over the answer button a few beats before pressing it. His face pops into view once the call connects. Like you, he’s sitting in bed, leaned up against the headboard, cozied up in a soft looking jumper. He looks like he’s moments away from drifting off, but he called you, so he must want to talk. 

“Hi,” You say softly. 

“Hey, you.” He smiles, warm and sleepy and all squinty in a way that makes you want to crawl through the screen and tuck him into bed with a kiss to his forehead. “You must be tired.” 

“Eh, I’m alright. Why?” 

“‘Cause you’ve been running through my mind all day.” 

You let out a wildly unappealing snort of laughter at his poor attempt at a pick up line. “That’s terrible! Oh my god, that was awful, Lando, seriously.” 

“No?” His smile grows giddy, shoulders shaking with his chuckles. “Yeah, it was pretty bad, wasn’t it? Got you laughing though.” 

Conversation falls into the same easy nature as this morning, like you’ve known him for ages. He makes you laugh until your ribs hurt, smile until your cheeks feel the same. It still amazes you just how comfortable you feel around him, as someone who usually takes a while to warm up to people. 

Maybe you should take it as a sign. 

A jumble of muffle voices offscreen some time later makes Lando squint. “Hang on, I’ll be right back. Don’t hang up. ” He lets the phone drop onto the bed, checking once to make sure you’re still there before disappearing from sight. 

You hear his footsteps fade, then more voices you can’t quite make out. Someone laughs off in the distance, and then he’s back, resituating himself with the remnants of an amused grin on his lips. 

“Everything okay?” 

“My mates are yelling at me to turn off the light, so I’d better go,” He sighs goodnaturedly, lips turning down into a frown. Then he yawns widely, and you realize how late it’s gotten since you’ve picked up his call. Losing track of time when you’re talking to Lando seems to be a recurring theme. “I’m glad you’re coming tomorrow.” 

Your breath catches a little in your chest, both at his words and the way he’s looking at you through the screen as he says it, nothing but genuine. “Me too.” 

You’re starting to think this whole try not to get attached thing is going to be much harder than you thought. 

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[screeching-bunny]

Yandere! Game Show Host Hcs

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

A/N: I saw this request and was like this is such a cool request but what if we made him an evil game show host. Like one that would put contestants in deadly scenarios.

🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host who kidnaps all of the contestants and forces them to play this twisted game that he created for money. Don’t worry though, he rigged the entire game to be in your favor. It was discreet enough for the viewers not to really care but apparent enough for you to notice the favoritism. Did you care? Hell no!! As long as you were getting paid you and survived this whole ordeal could give a rats ass about what happened next. Even when you do manage to get certain questions wrong, he will just brush it off and pretend that it was just a warm up question. The contestants are definitely seething whenever they see this happening.

🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host is a psychopath by nature. In each round, he presents the contestants with morally ambiguous dilemmas, enticing them with promises of grand rewards while dangling the threat of dire consequences for failure. Whether it's forcing them to choose between betraying a fellow contestant or facing a treacherous obstacle, he revels in their anguish, relishing the psychological torment he inflicts.

🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host is doing everything in his power to make sure that you win the game. He can’t have his poor baby feeling upset if they fail to win the grand prize. He would absolutely give out the most insane questions that practically no one knows the answer to. The punishment for getting a few questions wrong is mutilation of certain body parts and if you get too many questions wrong then you’ll end up being sent to your death. While everyone is basically being tortured in their punishments, he’d never allow that to happen to you. At most he’d probably just flick your forehead and call it a day. I imagine that most of the people watching the show are people who paid for the contestants to be kidnapped and be brought there against their wishes. Everyone who is put onto his show is a horrible person, including yourself, and have done something to be warranted to be there.

🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host bends all the rules of the game for you, providing subtle hints or covert assistance to ensure your safety. Although he has a strong desire to see others in pain and suffering, his love for you is stronger. At first justifies these actions as preserving the "entertainment value" of the show, but deep down, he's driven by an inexplicable desire to protect you.

🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host would baby you during your time there. He’d make a fuss whenever you tried to do anything remotely dangerous or touch some blood. I could totally see him using a baby voice to try to convince you to stop what you're doing. He has no shame, and everyone is looking at him with utter disbelief/confusion on their faces.

Yandere! Game Show Host: “Oh No! Please don’t go over there! You might slip from all the blood on the ground! Come here let me carry you across.”

Viewers: “…”

The contestant with their leg cut off: “…”

🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host thrives on the power he wields over his contestants, reveling in their suffering as they navigate his challenges. As the game progresses, his demeanor grows more twisted, enjoying the contestants' internal conflicts and emotional turmoil. He taunts them with mocking laughter, reveling in their discomfort and manipulating their decisions to heighten the drama. God forbid that you manage to develop a crush on someone while you are there. He’d absolutely lose it and do everything in his power to crush them. You best believe that he’s going to keep them alive for as long as possible and give them the worst punishments known to man.

🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host has cameras everywhere and when it's time for the contestants to rest for the night he’s going to be observing you. He’s a loser who doesn’t really know how to act around you without becoming a mess. In his spare time, he likes to just watch you through the cameras and imagine himself right next to you. He’s absolutely delulu about your feelings towards him and believes that you feel the same way. Even when you do manage to win this fucked up game, he’s not letting you go. There’s no way that he’s letting you leave after you managed to steal his heart. After this is all over, he’s taking you to his house and locking you there.

🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host holds pride in knowing how many people are at the mercy of his hand. Has a minor God complex and has this skewed mindset about how everyone else is beneath him besides you. Believes that you were made just for him and that you're his one true love. Would rather die than give you up or allow anyone to “take you away from him”. He’s like an annoying roach and almost impossible to get rid of. He’s making sure to stay with you for as long as possible.

—

Yandere! Game Show Host strides onto the stage with a wicked gaze, his piercing gaze fixed on the contestants. His voice, a chilling blend of charm and malice, booms through the speakers as he welcomes the participants with a mocking flourish. Thom who were strapped onto a table with heavy objects over their heads.

Yandere! Game Show Host: “Alright contestant number one, what is the mass of the Sun divided by Planck's constant in nanometers.

Contestant One: “HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT!?!?!”

Yandere! Game Show Host: “Unfortunately, that's not the correct answer. You’ll now be facing the consequences.” In a matter of seconds, the heavy object comes flying down with alarming speed. Upon impact, it mercilessly crushes against their skull, unleashing an overwhelming and unimaginable force that distorts bone and flesh. Yandere! Game Show Host then makes his way towards you and begins to speak.

Yandere! Game Show Host: “Alright, it's your turn now. No pressure, I know you’ll do great just take your time. Okay what’s 1 + 1?”

You: “2.”

Yandere! Game Show Host: "Talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever done before, unafraid to reference or not reference, put it in a blender, shit on it, vomit on it, eat it, give birth to it."

Other Contestants: “What the hell!?!? How is this fair!?!!

[satoruhour]

Can I request Toji x reader smut (established relationship) where Toji’s dick slips out and the reader puts it back in?

CAN’T BE OUT A SECOND LONGER !?

a/n: :3 / tagging @jabamin @kizoken @kentophilia @redskyvenus @screampied ✶

warnings: soft dom!toji, fem!reader, reader deep in sub space, slight daddy kink, implied oral (both f and m receiving), sex under the influence, unprotected p → v sex, pussy slapping, breeding / creampie kink, implied multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut 

it’s simply too difficult seeing toji in proper attire, especially when he’s attending your brother’s wedding in a suit and tie, something he reserves for truly important events like these. otherwise, he’d just be in his sweatpants and compression shirt.

not that he didn’t look good in that — but it was eye-opening when he made the effort to get a suit jacket and waistcoat with a tie that matched your dress, hanging off his arm while you watch your brother go crazy on the dance floor.

“you okay there, doll?” his voice is soft over the booming sound system but you catch the concern laced in his words, knowing you had quite a few glasses of wine and mixed other types of liquor with the groom’s toast. “we can head back if you want.”

it’s all that you want but you want to do it discreetly, trailing a hand down his toned arm to twine your fingers with his. with a turned head toward him, you look up at him through your eyelashes.

“yeah . . let’s. i wanna—” toji isn’t fully sober either, the intoxication contributing to the blurriness of everyone else while your face stays in ultra focus; your exposed clavicle, your pouty lips. he can already feel himself getting semi-hard.

“you wanna what?”

you’re able to walk back to your hotel room, but with a giddy smile and laughter from your throat, pressing a firm hand against your lipsticked lips with a frown.

“no, not while you have alcohol in your body—”

you push his hand away, latching onto broad shoulders and making sure you appear as sober as you can to him, “what’s with a little alcohol, toji? you couldn’t find our floor in the elevator earlier either.”

teasing is your forte, moving a hand up and down his chest, over his waist, unbuttoning his waistcoat — and it’s true; toji’s a little gone as well, asking you a few more times until you’re shaking him by his lapels and telling him to “get naked already!”

that warrants a laugh from toji and he gives into you, definitely more open to drinking with you before you two get it on because he notices how everything just sends his skin ablaze: your mouth around his tip, his tongue slurping up your juices.

toji’s on cloud nine when you sink down on his cock, easing it into your waiting cunt after the many, many minutes of prep. your moans mingle with your boyfriend’s grunts, hyper aware of his hands that wrap around your waist to help you.

“cunt so t-tight, sweetheart, thought i stretched you out enough—” you’re silent, already half gone from the liquor in your body that it heightens your senses the same way it does to toji. with a hand, you guide him into you, whining softly at the small amount of pain it harbours.

“slow . . baby, don’t rush,” his words sound miles away when he speaks, eyes locked onto your bent body and your ass on display as you start to bottom out, “that’s it, you got it— good girl.” he maps out the line down your back, your tilted head, admiring you with one hand behind his head along the headboard; and when you start bouncing when he fully appreciates the high of whiskey.

the way your gummy walls hug his length, the fluttering your pussy does around his cock, the jiggle of your ass once you start moving — nothing compares to your moans though, hands forming marks on his thighs from how tightly you hold onto them. 

“t-toji . . nngh—” incoherent sentences leave your lips, every hump of your hips providing a little friction for your clit. “s’good, daddy . .”

“is it now?” toji hums at the nickname and smiles to himself, admiring the transparent webs of your cum that sticks to your ass and his pelvis. instinctively his hips move up to meet yours, chuckling deeply when you lurch forward and moan loudly at the way he splits you open, so much so that you can feel him against your cervix.

“you just stay there, baby, i’ll do the work,” he grunts out and stays true to his word, planting his feet down just so he can thrust up into you. your body moves with his, eyes rolling to the back of your head and legs spreading even more, but his hips are just too eager to feel your tight pussy around him that his cock slips out with a sloppy shlick.

your annoyed whine makes the other laugh again, but before he can reach forward to help you, you’re helping yourself, looking back at him dizzily and then to his pelvis, feeling around for his cock. you stroke it a few times and tap it against your folds, the dim lighting of the bedroom illuminating your skin and figure so perfectly. 

“oh, f-fuck— you’re giving daddy a show, hm?” he says, words just above a whisper, watching how your hips grind against him. but being turned away from him has you having a little more difficulty, tip slipping out every few times toji tries to ram into you and he watches in awe with every time you glance back at him through hooded lids and lolling tongue.

and every time you’re scrambling back to get his length into you, to trail his throbbing tip along your slit to stretch yourself out, to roll your hips with disgusting squelching noises that emphasised how needy you were.

“tojiii . .” you sob when it happens again and toji’s pleasantly surprised to see you close to crying, eyes welling with tears in frustration. you just want him close, but your body’s already too loopy and too fatigued to hold yourself up so toji pulls on you with a tsk.

“dramatic princess, c’mon, i got ya,” from here you can see just how much of a mess you made — juices smeared all over your inner thighs, cunt still leaking, “but i need you t’do somethin’ for me, yeah?”

you sigh as his arm wraps around your middle and his other pulls on your knee so one leg is pulled to your chest; a good enough position, as long as he could fuck you in it. “what is it?”

there’s a certain pout in your voice that he catches, “help daddy get his cock back in you, baby.”

“but—” 

“don’t worry,” toji soothes you with a kiss to your temple, adjusting you to properly accommodate you atop of body. not that he couldn’t handle your weight, oh, it was something he loved, but he only hopes you know what’s in store from the very first time you showed him how much you loved his cock in you that it almost brought you to tears.

he needs to see your focused face as you ease him into you, see that focused expression fall into pure ecstasy and a long, languid moan leave your lips as you totally surrender to him. you tick all the boxes soon after, reaching blindly for him while you both watch as you rub his pulsing dick along your sensitive clit; the other has to teasingly buck his hips to get your head back in the game.

“need to feel you ’round me, pretty girl, c’mon. don’t waste time,” he rasps out next to your ear, seeing the bite of your lip through his peripheral as you shamelessly whine at the entrance, sounds coming to a halt when you’re halfway through his length, and then a beautiful arch of your back when your boyfriend bottoms out in you.

“t-toji— mmgh—!”

“use your big girl words, baby.”

but he starts moving and you simply can’t, each vein, each twitch of his cock you can feel it with your sopping pussy as the room starts to smell like sex and sweat. toji holds both your legs, now, making sure you have a clear view of his hips fucking up into yours and relishes in how he’s already rendered you speechless.

“makin’ ya feel good? huh?”

“y-yeah . . daddy . . you feel so fucking g-good,” you barely manage to speak, not noticing the slight stutter he has when the nickname falls from your lips, but you do notice when his pace becomes regular and faster, panting out when your hand starts to rub at your clit. every slap of his pelvis against yours is like a reminder of toji’s overpowering strength over you, holding you up so easily, back curved to fit into his front perfectly.

“you feel so goddamn good too, princess,” he breaths out, feeling your rub circles into your clit and his eyes zone in on how his cock moves in and out of your cunt, taking him so nicely and pliantly that he feels his heart swell, “you know i can never get enough of y’r pussy.”

your heart and pussy pounds harder at that, fully letting your head rest along his shoulder while your body rocks limply along with his thrusts. toji can’t resist giving you kisses along your jawline, sending even more shivers down your whole body before he asks something of you.

“slap your pussy for me, doll,” he grunts into your ear and instantly feels you clench, able to feel his smile against your jawline, “so, soo filthy, just f’me.” you nod, each breath you take a moment of anticipation with someone as gruff but gentle as toji.

“now, spank it.” you obey, giving your pussy a few timid slaps until he releases one leg and shows you how it’s done — harsh, rough slaps against your clit that sends jolts of electricity, and your legs shake in his hold. his laugh is just sadistic, but you love every moment of it, even more so when he spanks your pussy again.

that paired with the noisy pap! pap! pap! sounds of skin slapping has your eyes rolling into your skull together with a convulsing body, not even able to give toji a proper warning before his hand lands on your core on a particularly hard spank and you’re cumming with a cry of his name, squirting all over the sheets and gushing over his cock.

multiple yes’s linger on your lips that it merges together into god knows what, “toji, toji— yesyesyes—” and like a good boyfriend, he talks you through until your pussy calms down and your stomach stops heaving, but god, you needed more.

your hips never stop grinding against his and toji takes it as a sign to chase his high, abandoning your clit before he slams into you like an animal, obscene squelches only highlighting how all of your cum was spraying everywhere. toji bites down into your neck and you gasp both in pain and pleasure, letting your body be used by him until his hips jerk.

“want to be buried in this fucking pussy forever,” it’s strained when he says it and groans when your cunt clenches around him. and it’s not long before he’s spilling his load, so thick and hot into your womb. it just fills you to the brim, little whimpers and mewls weasel themselves out of your throat before it’s taken by toji, a kiss that has you feeling like fire. “love my baby’s pussy, love you.”

“l-love you too, daddy,” you say with a giggle before turning your body over and you can feel his cum start to dribble out, eyes cloudy with the wanton need of more before you start to move down.

a swirl of your tongue, a hiss from toji, “and i love his cock, too.”

[der7py]

Yandere Ceo x reader

Damien Sanchez. Easily one of the world'overs biggest ceo owners ever, owning nearly over 50 companies, and being married over 42 different times since he was 18. It was no shocker. He was incredibly crude and stuck up to all of his employees. But he's more soft towards you, little butterfly.

Warnings: Mature language, age gap, implied murder, work abuse, unfair amount of power in the work field, degradation, Slight babying if you squint, unfair treatment, favoritism

Working for the Damien Sanchez was definitely an opportunity you didn't want to pass! Even if all former and current employees were strongly advising against it.

You worked as a receptionist in one of his companies on the first floor. Apparently, each floor was something completely different than the last! But it was advised in the rules you mind your own business on your own floor.

You barely ever saw the boss. But it was fine! You made bank as a receptionist, so running into the boss wasn't really any of your concern. He probably wasn't even that bad!

That was until you heard a strong voice yelling at another employee from the 5th floor.

Apparently, his coffee wasn't brewed right, and that warranted him firing the employee on the spot. Soon, the elevator made a ding, and the big man himself stomped right over to you. You could've sworn all of the employees scattered like rats.

"You! Yes, you! Go brew me a dark coffee. None of that sweet stuff now get going or so help me god I'll fire you too!" You immediately ran to the closet coffee maker to make it for him. You had bills to pay!

You rushed back over with his coffee, where he was impatiently tapping his foot on the ground. You were surprised you didn't spill it everywhere, or fall straight on your face the way you practically threw it in his hands.

_______________________

He sipped his coffee, clearly taking his time while you squirmed under his gaze. Jesus, he really was intimidating with how fast your job could be on the line. "Mm... good job. What's your name?" He asked, raising a brow at you and your squirming figure. You immediately straightened up, letting out a silent sigh of relief. "Y/n Mr. Sanchez!" He nodded his head, snapping his fingers as he drank more of his coffee. "How unique. Anyways, you're moving up in the ranks, kid. 10th floor as my new assistant, get your bags." Without another word, he walked to the elevator and took it all the way back up.

Holy shit. Holy shit! Did you just get promoted?! This job was even better than what you thought! You wasted no time packing everything up and running to the elevator, a big grin on your face. You were eating good this week! As you checked your phone to tell your friends and family the good news, you forgot you had an article about your boss pulled up.

It was no surprise to anyone that your boss had been married 42 different times. You did admire him for his pull game, but figured he had bad luck. Maybe they were all gold diggers! But apparently, people had theories of what really was happening. All of his spouses mysteriously disappeared a few days after Damien and his newly wed spouse got married. Then he'd get all the inheritance money and whatever companies they owned, considering all 42 were rich. Some people were theorizing, he murdered them. Man people were crazy with their conspiracy theories.

But you remembered you never did see the old assistant leave the building.

_______________________

He liked how eager you were to take the new position as his assistant. Maybe you wouldn't fuck up as much as his old assistant. The old bastard could barely make a coffee for him.

You took your new role very seriously, and he appreciated that about you. Even if the other employees picked on you for being relatively young. They all disappeared anyway.

Over the few weeks, he found himself drawn to you. You were his little butterfly. So full of life unlike the other scum in all of his companies.

He made sure to be extra careful and lenient with you. Oh, you accidentally misfiled an extremely important file? Oh, it's fine, darling. He used to make that mistake all the time.

Oh, you spilled coffee on his brand new outfit? It's fine, little butterfly, he has the same outfit 5 times just in case.

But anytime, any other employee dare make a mistake as little as dropping a staple while he was walking? Fired immediately. What were they thinking? Idiots.

You never noticed how much more soft he was with you. And he was determined to keep it that way. He didn't want you getting hurt over any special treatment you definitely might be receiving.

He felt alive with you. Hell! Sometimes, he upped your pay just because you smiled at him! You really were a precious angel that needed to be protected. A butterfly with delicate wings.

Just quit researching about his past spouses' disappearances, or else he'll have to clip those pretty little wings before you fly too far and find out what really happened.

[sinning-23]

Hot Tatted Uncles (Uncle!SukunaAu X Teacher!Reader)

I’ve fallen victim to the unkuna/uncle sukuna au so HAVE THIS

PART 2 UP NOW!!! <------- Click the link here!

_____________________________________________________

“My uncle be fighting people.” Yuji hums, your gaze immediately shooting to the toddler.

“O-Oh really?” You gulp, knowing kids say the wildest things but after you’re first encounter with the pink-hair boy's uncle, you would put it past him.

“Yeah, he. He told me uh-um-.” The boy sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, to which you sigh and directed him to the sink as he continues his story

“Uh- he told me that he beat up this guy and he- uh he won and that the guy lost.”

You fight the urge to laugh, his sentence seeming so long and incomplete. Typical toddler.

“Well we don’t fight our friends right Yuji? You be good and keep your hands to yourself?” You encourage, ruffling the boy's hair as he smiles, one of the fronts missing.

“Yeah! We use nice hands.” Yuji repeats, leaving you with your thoughts as he grabs ahold of a car to play with.

Why would you tell a 2-year-old you beat someone up?! You sigh, scrolling through your contacts, making a note to speak with his father, even though the boy hadn't done anything, it's still concerning that he might feel as if that’s okay since his uncle does it.

It’s quiet for a moment, your other three students Nobara, Megumi, and Mahito playing together….and then it happens.

WHAM!

A still silence falls over the room and soon a roar of cries as Mahito holds the top of his head. In all honestly the child was a problem so whatever he did to get smacked over the head with a wooden block was probably warranted. But the bigger problem was that you biggest fear had come to fruition. Yuji, had hit and essentially started to fight with another child, as Mahito had hit him back. You’d definitely need to speak to his father now.

The rest of the children had gone home now, Yuji being your last child as you closed your classroom down. Your class usually ended around 6:00 and it was pushing 6:15 now. Just as you were about to make your courtesy call, the door opened with the jingle of keys and a throaty chuckle.

"Look at you, giving your teacher a hard time?" The tatted male asks, scooping up a giggling Yuji with a toothy grin. You, however, were far from pleased, giving a tight-lipped smile as he just barely glances your way.

"Hi, I'm Miss Y/n, Yuji's teacher." You announce, taking a tissue to wipe Yuji's nose one last time before he left.

"Uh huh," He responds, grimacing as you wipe the snot away.

"So, Yuji had a pretty good day today, but I did have to have a chat with him about..fighting and hitting other friends." You explain, feeling smaller under his sharp gaze. His face is tatted too, the thick dark lines running along his nose, cheeks, and jawline.

"You in here beatin people up?" He states sharply at the boy who only nods with a smile.

"Yeah! Like how you said you beat everyone up!" Yuji admits ith joy and his Uncle's face falls.

"Yes so, before Yuji hit the other child he told me that you...fight people and I told him that we use our nice hands. But right after that, he had-" "Hit another kid. The parents mad?" He asks, a bit troubled now, most likely mentally cursing himself for kinda causing this whole debacle. \

"W-well I can't really disclose that. The point is, please just chat with him and hopefully, he can learn that's not okay." You explain, feeling a bit more relieved since the convo went smoother than usual. And part of you was a little... flustered with how seriously he was looking at you. You couldn't help but look at his tatted and flexed arm as he moved Yuji to sit on his shoulders.

"Yeah, well, here have my number so if anything else happens and I'm picking up you can just let me know." He hums, pulling his phone skillfully from his sweatpants pocket and

Holy shit...

You think to yourself, seeing the print just faintly. You swallow, taking the divide and inputting yoi contact.

The pair leaves, Your heart trobbbing as you take a breath. Being any type of romantically involved with your students' parents was highly unprofessional...but the rules never said anything about hot tattooed uncles.

-in the car-

Sukuna buckled Yuji into his seat, passing the child a happy meal he'd picked up as payment for a job well done.

"Nice work. How bout next time you mention your Uncles got no girlfriend either." He laughs, backing out of the parking space with your number and a grin.

Authors Note; Ok yes i wrote this on a whim I swear I'm trying to finish the stuff I had listed on my update post lmao

Also might make a part 2 for this cause I freaking love this au

[ladycaramelswirl]

definitely not old

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

A/N: Did I create an extremely improbable scenario just to suit my need to create another highly improbable scenario? Yes. Do I care that it’s unrealistic? No. Please forgive any typos/ grammatical errors. 

CW: suggestive content, but not explicit (like 15+?). Use of y/n one time. (Technically this would probably warrant one of those hostile workplace environment seminars like they had for Derek and Penelope. But it’s funny? Idk this isn’t serious.) Sassy Hotch. Crack plot tbh. 

Also I know the timeline doesn’t really make sense, because JJ is a profiler and Emily and Rossi exist, but I imagined Season 1 Spencer while writing this! I guess it’s 2005? Btw I do not know how tapes work, so just pretend it makes sense please. This is so unserious. 

Summary: reader wife and Hotch are private people; the BAU team is nosy. Spencer is just constantly in the right place at the wrong time. 

Enjoy!

——————

The screen in front of you depicted horror - just not the kind the BAU was used to. The UnSub had confessed to leaving a message in an old tape. He had already been arrested, but you were all hoping it might contain something that might help the conviction stick. Only he was extremely paranoid, so not only had he left the message in a code, but he had spliced it into a tape he thought people were least likely to watch. His p***. It was the last thing to do for the case and everyone was trying to help. You all sit at the round table, and Spencer shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. Derek laughs at his shyness and Emily laughs at the very unrealistic movements. She and JJ tilt their heads at the shape the two on the screen have put themselves into. 

“That does not look comfortable”, JJ mocks. 

The words are out of your mouth before you think. “Trust me it’s not”. 

Everyone at the table snaps their heads to look at you. 

“Damn Mama”, Derek laughs. “Who are you doing these moves with?”

You try to hold back a laugh. You were not ready to share about your sex life with your colleagues, no matter how close you were. Plus you’re pretty sure Aaron would not appreciate it. 

“That is inappropriate workplace conversation”, you say, pausing the video. “And you’re going to miss the next series of code”, you tell him, trying to get him to revert his attention back to the video. Emily grins at your attempted evasion.

“We already got all the code. She just doesn’t want us to tell Hotch she’s capable of all that. Doesn’t want to make the old man feel bad”.

“He’s not old. He’s only 5 years older than you”, you remind her. She puts a hand on her chest in mock offense like you’ve stabbed her. You roll your eyes. “And this is still inappropriate”.

“So it wasn’t Hotch”, Derek laughs. 

“You’re just annoyed because you haven’t tried it yourself”, you deflect, moving to sit next to Spencer who seems to actually be doing his job. 

“I’ve seen her do yoga and she’s very flexible, so if she couldn’t do it I don’t think you can”, JJ tells Morgan. 

“Oh you have no idea what I’m capable of”, he teases, which earns laughs from around the table. “I’m better than the old man for sure”. They all start laughing and talking about you and Hotch. 

You roll your eyes. “Wasn’t old in bed last night”, you mutter under your breath. You startle at the sound of a book hitting the floor and see Spencer’s bright red face. JJ, Derek and Emily look over in curiosity at what they might have missed, but you ignore them, attempting to give Spencer an apology for making him uncomfortable. He moves to drink his coffee in an attempt to avoid more of the conversation. Only he chokes on it because Hotch enters the room. 

“Have you finished working out the code?”

Everyone’s heads snap to him - JJ, Emily and Derek wearing matching grins. Hotch eyes you patting a coughing Spencer’s back.

“Are you alright?”, he asks. 

“Yes! Good! I’m good!”, Spencer squeaks, afraid Hotch is going to ask him why he’s so nervous. Aaron looks to you for some answers but before you can tell him it’s nothing, Spencer suddenly stands up.

“Got the code! Going to call the local PD. DA is waiting”, he warbles before you all watch him run out of the room. Hotch turns back to the rest of you. 

“Well then that wraps it up. Go home now, get some rest”, he instructs. Everyone starts packing up. You and Hotch walk towards the door when he realises there’s only 6 of you in the room. 

“Where’s Dave?”, he asks.

You’re about to tell him Rossi went to the bathroom when the Italian walks back in. Rossi immediately notes the paused video.

“Wow that looks uncomfortable”, he remarks. Everyone smirks in your direction. Hotch snakes an arm around your waist and looks at the screen. Then at you. 

“It was, wasn’t it?”

He smiles at the jaws dropping to the floor. 

“Good night everyone”.

—————————

A little bonus scene:

In his office later:

“You heard us talking before you came in the room didn’t you”, you question your husband. He was so private, he wouldn’t have said something like that otherwise. 

“They called me old”, Aaron grumbles, but his tone is amused. “Just wanted to shock them a little”.

You make your way over to his side of the desk, pulling him to stand up beside you. 

“Well Agent Hotchner, I have to tell you, there’s been some speculation about your performance”, you taunt. “Care to prove them wrong?”

“Last night wasn’t enough proof?”, he laughs raising an eyebrow. You run your hands up his chest and behind his neck, pulling him close. 

“The results were inconclusive”, you tease. He grabs your hips and traps you between himself and his desk, his mouth trailing kisses down your jaw. 

“Well I can’t have that kind of speculation going around”, he murmurs into your skin. Your breath hitches from the sensation of his lips on the sensitive spot on your neck. But instead of continuing, he pulls away and meets your eyes in a conspiratorial grin. “We should do an in house evaluation as soon as possible”.

You open your mouth to reply when the door swings open, Spencer finding you sandwiched between Hotch’s thighs and your blouse rumpled. His mouth drops open and suddenly all 187 iq points mean nothing when his brain loses function.

“Oh- I- um- sorry!”, he manages before running away. You stare at the slammed door then back at Aaron and burst into giggles. He drops his head to your shoulders and sighs. 

“I feel like a teenager”, he groans.

“At least you don’t feel old.”

—————————

Bonus bonus: 

Still in the conference room: 

“I want to go back to 10 minutes ago when I didn’t know this information”, Emily moans. 

“I think I need 5 more minutes before I can form a coherent thought”, JJ laughs in disbelief. Spencer walks back in.

“I finished my report. Where’s Hotch and y/n? Can we go home?”

“Probably doing it in his office for all we know”, Derek mutters.

Spencer’s brows furrow in confusion. “Doing what in his office?”

Rossi raises an eyebrow at Emily. “Is this kid serious?”

She shrugs back at him. 

“Spence, Hotch says we can go home. But you should probably report about what local PD told you before you go”, JJ tells him.

Spencer nods and makes his way to Hotch’s office. The rest of the team watch him walk away.

“You think we should have told him to knock before going in?”

“Probably.”

The sound of a high pitch yelp and the slam of an office door echo down the hallway. 

“Oops.”

——————

thank you for reading :)

masterlist

[lilacgaby]

racer!katsuki x pitcrew!reader

was this relationship inappropriate? yes. would you lose your job if you were found out? also yes, but did you care as he was making out with you in his private room, caging you into the walls? no.

you were sat on the edge of his driver's room bed, sat on his lap. you were both in your work suits and you were definitely not allowed to be back in your, technically boss's, room.

this had become a normal thing for the two of you, he said that doing this was 'good luck' and 'didn't you want him to win?'

it first happened the day you accidentally ran into his room, he was shirtless as he eyed you suspiciously. 'fuck're ya doing here?' your eyes were wide as you tried to look into his.. but your eyes tended to wander and you were just a girl at heart.

he couldn't help but let a smirk come over his face, he'd seen you without your helmet a couple times, and he thought you were gorgeous. great at your job too, averaging two seconds above your teammates. did he make you nervous? no, he couldn't be.

he walked over to you, grabbing your hand as he caged you in the wall, putting his face directly in front of yours.

'so, see sum' ya like pretty?' he said condescendingly, a mischievous expression overtaking his face. 'i have some time so, tell me what's interesting you so much.'

his hour of preparation was spent wisely, with his tongue down your throat.

and that lead you back to today, after a 20 race win-streak, everyone couldn't help but question what had suddenly changed in bakugo's life to warrant such a huge improvement in his career.

so interested in fact, they had barged into his room where you both were currently french-kissing, your eyes wide as he cursed them out and shoved you off him, trying to get you out of view.

secrets out, i guess.

[lacroixqueen]

you're too pretty to kill (18+, noncon)

deadpool x fem!reader

Summary: deadpool was hired to kidnap and kill reader but reader is just too cute so it puts him in a moral dilemma

Pairing: fem!reader x deadpool

Word Count: 2k

Warnings/Tags: bondage, brat, gun kink, gun play, praise kink

You loved days when you could just rollerblade around the city without so much as a care in the world. The feeling of the warm summer breeze running through your hair. Watching as the lights zipped by like dust lost in the wind. You wish you could do this forever. After all, it was your peace, your one true happy place. 

Until it wasn’t. 

Out of nowhere, you felt an arm wrap around your waist and a leather glove holding a handkerchief cover your nose and mouth. 

You tried your best to fight whoever your assailant was back, pulling on his wrist in a desperate attempt to rip it off your face. But before you knew it, you felt your vision blur and your head begin to spin. It felt like the world was melting right before your very eyes. 

Next thing you knew, you woke up to a sea of black. You could feel a piece of fabric cloaking your vision and tied securely behind your head. You tried to move your hand to hoist yourself up, only to find that both your hands were roped together behind your back. You tried to scream into the void, only to find that your mouth was sealed with a piece of tape.

“Mmfffhn!” you managed to sputter out, leaning against what felt like a cold, concrete wall. In fact, it was quite chilly wherever you were. Was it a basement? Warehouse? Regardless, you were shivering from head to toe. The tiny crop top and mini skirt you threw on this morning before going rollerblading was just not cutting it, unfortunately. 

You quickly snapped your head in the direction of what sounded like heavy footsteps and… clapping?

“Well, well, well,” a sly voice rumbled from the opposite end of the room. “Now what do we have here?” 

The unknown person gradually made his way over toward you, knelt before you, and removed your blindfold and gag. 

You looked up, only to lock eyes with what you could only describe as two white ellipses, narrowing ever so slightly amidst the shadows. Your eyes eventually adjusted to the darkness. 

“Such a shame,” your captor sighed to himself. “You’re so pretty too. As in, way prettier than most of my other victims. Normally my clients pay me big bucks to knock out assholes with beer bellies, bad breath, and a name on the registry but you.” He made a rectangle with his thumbs and index fingers as if to take your photograph. “You are perfect.”

“Wh-what are you going to do with me..?” you stammered, almost too afraid to ask. You never took your eyes off of him. He was tall, lanky, even. Dressed in all red and black. You took note of the gun in his holster and the two massive swords strapped behind his back.

“Oh, nothing to write home about,” he assured, ruffling up your hair like you two were childhood best friends. “Well, I guess if you are really dying to know. Someone important wants you dead. So I guess you could say, I, being one of if not the most popular hitmen on the black market, was hired to.. Uh, what’s the word, kill you! Yeahhhh, that sounds about right.”

“I don’t understand,” you muttered to yourself. “All my life, I can’t think of a single thing I did that could possibly warrant this, I mean.. why me?”

“Oh how tragic,” Wade remarked, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear while a tear slowly rolled down your cheek. “I mean, who in their right mind would want to kill someone like you? You are the literal picture perfect definition of the girl next door who wouldn’t hurt a flea. It would take a psychopath to even dream of such a thing!”

You glared at him while he carried on his little performance. “Don’t mock me.”

“Oh.” Deadpool stopped mid-sentence as he lifted up your chin with the tip of his index finger. “So it’s going to be like that, then.”

He leaned back slowly, only to gingerly remove his pistol from its holster. 

“Tell me, Y/N..” he whispered softly. “Have you ever held a gun before?”

“I.. no..” you replied, gasping as he pressed the cold barrel against your cheek. 

“Would you say you’ve ever, oh I don’t know, felt it on your skin?” he teased, dragging it across your neck and collarbone. He took notice of how you swallowed the lump in your throat nervously, and the way your lip quivered ever so slightly. 

“Or what about in your mouth..” his voice suddenly took a dark turn as he shoved the front of the handgun in between your lips, forcing it into the back of your throat. 

You felt your blood run cold. At first, it all felt like some sort of a game. Like one sick, twisted joke. But now, it suddenly became real. 

Wade was absolutely giddy, watching your soft, plump lips part open and accept the icy metal. He liked seeing how your pink tongue was forced still and how you squirmed like a helpless animal he had total control over. And the adorable little noises you made when your mouth was full. It delighted him in a way even he couldn’t explain. 

“Would you say you’ve ever.. choked on one?” he said, barely being able to contain his laughter. Without another word, he pushed the pistol even deeper, causing it to squeeze against your uvula, eliciting your gag reflex. 

“Whghnnn..” you muffled out, trying your best to mentally distance yourself as far away from this entire ordeal as possible. Your mind was racing at a pace you couldn’t keep up with. You were trying to formulate a plan, something, anything to have him show you mercy. 

“Wow, you really are so good at this,” Wade mumbled, not relenting at all as he continued to shove the gun further down your throat. “Definitely better than I thought. Hey, do you like practice or something? Because God, you are a natural! If I weren’t about to kill you right now, I’d hire you on the spot.”

You rolled your eyes at the innuendo. 

Realizing he wasn’t getting any further reaction from you, Deadpool slowly removed the pistol from your lips, watching with glee as a string of saliva connected your tongue from the tip of the barrel. 

He then proceeded to drag the side of the handgun across your chest, over your bare stomach, and finally, resting on the waistband of your skirt. 

“So.. Y/N was it?” Deadpool rambled on, as he played with the pleats of your skirt with his free hand. “Right. You know, I would say I don’t have a lot of weaknesses in this world, wouldn’t you agree? So anyways, after I got mutated and all fucked up from that bastard Francis and became who I am now, there’s very little out there that truly phases me these days. But this..”

He gestured towards your pastel pink miniskirt. “This is something else.” 

And with that, he gently lifted up the cloth with the front of his gun to reveal your lacy magenta underwear.

“A thong! Boooold,” he commented, pressing the cold metal of the barrel right up against your labia. “I was wondering if you were wearing something underneath, and this answers the question. God, that’s hot. You know what’s hotter, though? One of my best friends, Logan. There’s just something so je ne sais quoi about that beautiful man. Anyways.”

Your breath hitched. Suddenly, a wave of goosebumps cascaded over your skin, and it was like the world just stopped making sense. Why did this suddenly feel sort of.. good? Minus the incessant yapping and endless sidetracked one-sided conversation, you wanted more. More of whatever this was. 

And Wade granted your wish. He pulled the fabric of your thong to the side with his other hand and gently prodded your clit with the tip of his pistol. 

He was taken aback when you moaned softly at the sensation. 

“Oh?” he said as he raised an eyebrow.

He pressed the gun even harder onto your pink pearl, eliciting another sigh. 

“Huh. Color me impressed,” he muttered. “This entire time I thought you were fighting for your life but you are actually enjoying this? You dirty little slut! And here I thought you were prim proper little miss perfect..”

“Why.. why are you stopping?” you breathed, a splash of pink brightening up your cheeks, causing him even more of a surprise. “Just keep.. Keep going.”

And to his own dismay, he obliged. 

“How would you feel if I did this?” Wade asked, but before you could even react, he had already shoved the barrel of the gun deep into your cunt. 

You tossed your head back in response, moaning helplessly as he pushed the pistol in and out of your swollen pussy.

“Ah, ah~” you cried out, instinctively spreading your legs open to allow him even more access.

“Now that’s a good girl!” he encouraged, taking note of your subtle invitation and pushing it even harder and deeper than he did before. “Wow. You know, this has been truly enlightening, Y/N. I never in a million years would have guessed you of all people would turn out to be a freak! And you, my friend, are the freakiest of the freaks.”

“I-I am not!” you protested, gasping as you felt the cold steel pushing heartlessly against your walls. “I like normal things too.”

“Uh huh,” Wade said as he continued to fuck your insides relentlessly with his gun. “And I am a three-headed sabertooth tiger named Richard. See? We can all tell lies to ourselves! It’s fun.” 

You could feel yourself practically melting into his hands, your soul floating into the ceiling until you heard it. The click. 

“Well, it has been real Y/N,” Deadpool sighed, his index finger resting comfortably on the trigger. “I mean, I don’t know about you, but I sure as hell had the time of my life! Shit, if we didn’t meet under these circumstances, we absolutely would have hit it off in another reality. As in, I would have fucked you in a multitude of positions in a variety of exotic outdoor locations! Unfortunately, however, the fun and games have to come to an end somehow. I mean, wouldn’t you agree?”

You felt as if your heart was about to both break and jump out of your chest simultaneously. 

“B-but..” you tried to reason with him. Not that it was any use, of course. “I really liked this..”

“I know, babe,” Wade cooed, his free hand snaking up and gripping around your throat tightly. “But if I don’t kill you now, I probably never will because you are just too cute. And sometimes I just can’t help myself but make stupid decisions.”

“Please don’t kill me,” you begged, looking up at him. 

Wade was just about to pull the trigger until you caught his eye.

“Aw, FUCK!” he shouted, immediately removing the gun from your dripping snatch. “Don’t.. don’t do that.”

“Do what?” you inquired innocently, tilting your head to the side. 

“That!” he exclaimed, gesturing towards your face. “Looking up at me with those big, stupid adorable eyes. You know I can’t help myself when you do that.” 

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” you shrugged. “Besides, I thought you had already made up your mind. You sounded pretty sure of yourself after all.”

“You know, you really are a little shit, you know that?” Deadpool fired back, placing his hands on his hips. “God, and this was supposed to be sexy and dangerous, but you totally ruined the atmosphere.”

You smiled to yourself, self-assured in your victory. “Well, does that mean you are going to let me go?”

“Yeah, yeah, go fuck yourself,” Wade responded, untying your ropes and smacking you on the ass as you stood up. “Get out of here before I change my mind.”

Before you walked out of the warehouse, you stood on your tippy toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek over his mask. “Thank you.”

“Go, GO!” he yelled, pushing you towards the exit of the dingy building. “And don’t come back.”

And as soon as you came, you were free. The moonlight poured through the cracks of the tree branches outside and lit up your face. The door slammed behind you in a dramatic fashion. And with that, you finally felt yourself settling into another moment of peace. 

[alchemistc]

Everything's so damn dark when the blindfold slips off that for a second she can't see a thing.

Don't panic. Don't scream. Don't hurt the baby.

Something groans at her feet and she startles straight into the pipe behind her head.

"'lo?" A voice asks, familiar enough to give her pause, and she wonders for a moment if this is a joke, if this is a trick, if this - "s'there?"

His words are slurred. A concussion, maybe, then. Great. Biggest man she knows and he's gonna be a useless pile of puke to her.

Don't panic, Maddie reminds herself, and then she starts giggling.

"Tommy?"

He groans an affirmative.

"Oh good. I feel a lot better about getting overpowered, now."

A hand grabs for her ankle and Maddie bites back a scream. It's Tommy's hand, big and warm and - fully unbound, which feels a little unfair. "Cunt drugged me," he says, then pauses. Squeezes her ankle. "Sorry for the language."

"No, it's, uh - I think it's warranted this time."

Maddie can't remember exactly how it'd happened to her. Had she been hit? Is she injured? She does a mental tally. Her lip feels swollen. Nose and eyes feel fine, though, so maybe she bit it? Neck, shoulders, all good. She's been bending her elbows and wrists just fine, she just doesn't have the leverage to do anything about the zip ties keeping her affixed to the probably pipe behind her. Hips, legs, knees. She wiggles her toes and in the darkness Tommy chuckles. "Everything accounted for?"

He must have done his own check while she was working through hers. She can hear him rustling around. "I'm still incredibly mad at you, but it's nice to hear your voice," she says, and Tommy goes still. "Tommy? All good?"

"...why are you mad at me?"

"Like you don't know?" Oh. Actually maybe she is more mad than she is glad. "You broke my brother's heart, idiot. I don't have any more room in my entire house for the coping mechanism he's come up with." She kicks, a little. Tommy grunts and shifts. "I hope that hit something painful and non-essential to our escape."

"He's - he'll be fine."

"What exactly is your definition of fine? Because it's been a few months and he's still bringing me baked goods on a bi-weekly basis."

"Bi-weekly like -."

"Do not get pedantic on me, Kinard. Two times a week. What's your status? Moving parts all still moving?"

"I think my balls have taken a vacation, but that's more a reflection on how terrifying you are than on this current situation."

Flippant. Sarcasm in the face of Maddie trying to get a full picture. Buck had called him funny and charming. Maddie's second kick doesn't land, but only because he's got a hand wrapped around her foot. "Once we're out of here, I'm gonna punch you in the face."

He hums. "For the balls comment, or the cunt thing?"

Maddie shrugs. Remembers that he can't see it. "Which part of 'broke my brother's heart' are you not getting?"

He sounds like he's moving gingerly. She can hear heavy bulky fabric rustle and she wonders if he's in three layers like usual. She could use something warm. "I - figured he'd be over it by now."

Maddie snorts. If she had to make a guess, Tommy glowers at the noise. "Dumbass."

And then it hits her. "The cunt? Skinny, brunette, pretty? Kind of...angular face?"

Tommy hums and takes her weight as she tries to kick again. "Sounds like her."

"Oh, Buck's gonna be pissed and embarrassed. She's rebound attempt number two."

Tommy's silent long enough that Maddie has to check in. He hums, and goes back to silence. "Rebound attempt?"

"If you hadn't noticed, we've actually been kidnapped, so maybe I can save your relationship afterwards?"

"I think she was trying to kill me," Tommy admits. "Otherwise why am I unbound in this shitty Saw knockoff?"

Maddie feels some extra pieces dropping into place. Oh, Buck is never gonna live this down actually.

"Can you overpower her if she comes in?"

"If she's not quick to try to drug me again. If I can figure out where the fucking door is. If -."

"A yes or no is fine. Pretty sure she's the Bay Butcher, if that helps you answer."

His pause is long. "...maybe," he says, and accepts the kick this time without block or protest.

[queer-geordie-nerd]

I really hesitated about whether I should write this or not and I'm still unsure, tbh, because this really, really isn't about me and as a goy, I know I have the enormous privilege of being able to, if I so chose, to be quiet and go back to my normal, unperturbed life.

In the months that I've taken a vocal position on my blog - condemned antisemitism, both overt and less so, and advocated my support for the Jewish community, both in Israel and in diaspora, I have had appalling amounts of hate mail, I have had people and fandom blogs I enjoyed interacting with unfollow and block me, and I've seen people I had a great deal of respect for enthusiastically support rape and terrorism as "resistance" while completely believing they have the moral high ground and I'm some evil genocide supporter who should kill myself.

And I don't regret for one second the stance I've taken, because I feel to not have done so would have gone against everything I believe to be right, but sometimes I just feel so very sad about it all, that talking about and advocating for people facing horrific persecution is somehow so deeply unpopular that warrants such reactions. I feel like I've lost so much of the joy that I had being in certain fandom spaces and I've definitely lost faith in a lot of people.

And absolutely none of this even comes anywhere close to the daily betrayals and terror that Jewish people around the world are facing every single day and I feel like even saying any of this is taking up space that I shouldn't be, but I'm just so sad.