#shitty gif nation

[jackhues]

simon benoit on mits off with luke gazdic jan. 31. 24

source

[narrat3333d]

ARAN RYAN HEADCANONS!!1! (explodes..starting w/ him bc he my fav..heart☹️)

FAMILY.

Declan Ryan. (Father, 52.)

Peigí Ryan. (Mother, 54.)

Aofie Ryan. (Older Sister, 25.)

Ronan Ryan. (Younger Brother, 19.)

Sean and Cian Ryan. (Younger Brothers, 16.)

GENERAL.

Previously worked as a Dockhand in the ports before he boxed, it’s where he gained most of his strength.

Knows how to swindle someone out of a pretty penny, his Ma taught him how to charm his way through any situation.

He began fighting as early as he could, (18). Though he’s most likely been illegally weaselling his way into professional matches before hand.

ALWAYS, and I mean ALWAYS gets up at 7:00am SHARP. If he doesn’t get up at 7am he’ll probably be up at 7:07, and if he isn’t up at that time he’ll be extremely pissed about it.

He uses an unhealthy amount of gel to get his hair to stay like that. No fucking way does it just do that thang.

Apart from that, he somehow has nice-ish hair despite how ratty and unkempt it looks, his Ma' and Aofie taught him how to care for his hair once he started growing it out.

Still lives at the Ryan Home, with his parents, and siblings, (though Aofie has moved out.she visits.) he’s WAY too irresponsible with his money to rent his own apartment.

Got surprisingly decent grades for how he acts.

He eats Lucky Charms for breakfast, but he usually only eats the marshmallows.

Learned Irish Stepdance from his Father, he’s trying to rope his younger brothers into learning it as well.

SOMEHOW. SOMEHOW still has his drivers license. He drives this really banged up looking car, each time he has to drive someone somewhere they exit the car hyperventilating, dehydrated, malnourished, trembling, tense, teary eyed../j

He’s tasked with babysitting Sean and Cian more often than not, he most likely drops them off with one of the other Boxers if he can’t be bothered to deal with their bullshit™️. (Which, surprisingly, isn’t all that common.)

When he was a kid, he tried to sell or trade Ronan/Sean and Cian when they were babies for something ridiculous. Like a Pokemon card, or something of the sorts.

Also tried to make his Younger Brothers’ first words a curse. (It worked for Cian, his first word was ‘Arse’.) ((Aran was overjoyed, his parents not so much.))

Owns a lot of lucky charms, almost to the point where it’s absurd.

Most of his old clothes end up becoming hand-me-downs to Ronan, Sean and Cian.

He knocked out (one of) Cian's teeth when he was younger.

He has a couple photos of his family members haphazardly pasted onto the inside of his locker door.

Plays shitty, overused pranks on some of the other Boxers.

He's coaching Sean and Cian on how to box. (And cheat, he enthusiastically encouraged the twins to keep up with their whole 'Switch-Places' shtick.)

His knuckles are bruised from the horseshoes he has in his gloves, as well as a few swollen spots on his face. Probably has a dislocated or even broken finger or two.

There's merchandise of all of the boxer's in the WVBA, sometimes there's a figure or plush of Aran being thrown at the wall or kicked down the stairs in the Ryan Household.

Most likely would try to fight with Sean or Cian in the ring. (Sort of almost a..Bear Hugger situation. But not with a squirrel. I do not know how to word this..)

Buys the shittiest Birthday presents ever. Literally. He doesn't gaf.

Was somehow dragged into a Double Scull by Sean, Aran purposefully tipped the boat and Sean didn't speak to him for around 3-5 business days.

He goes to the pub from time to time, which gives him a lot of gossip and such about the locals.

Doesn't get into Bar Fights as much as one would think.

He DEFINITELY has messy, horrible handwriting.

here,, dumps this and walks away

therr will probably be a part two,,and maybe i'll do one soley focused on his relations with the fellow boxers because ive been too scared to dip my toe into that territory yet,,(I DONT UNDERSTAND SHIPPING FOR THE LIFE OF ME, hwo does it work..) anywasy thank you for coming to my ted talk and sorry for yapping heart heart

[ghoulymadge]

All hail Rolan, master of Ramazith's Tower. Baldur's Gate 3 (2023)

[saruzzo]

Fiorello e Biagio Antonacci, circa 2002, courtesy of Techetechetè (x)

Questo gifset mi piace chiamarlo "he literally didn't have to do All That"

[mayday396]

It's 9TH OF AUGUST

HAPPY NATIONAL DAY SINGAPORE 🇸🇬🇸🇬🇸🇬🇸🇬🇸🇬🇸🇬🇸🇬🇸🇬🇸🇬🇸🇬

We gained Independence on this Day! We got kicked out by Malaya but oh well look at us now!

ALSO SUCK ON THAT WE HAVE A MERLION AS OUR NATIONAL SYMBOL, YOU'RE STUCK WITH A TIGER MALAYSIA.

Tourists! I hope you're enjoying Singapore, I recommend visiting Fort Canning where the Old Kingdom of Singapura used to sit.

Locals and Historians don't like to admit it but our Country was founded in the 14th Century.

GO VISIT THERE AND HAPPY NATIONAL DAY

[another-mikaelson]

National Treasure: Edge of History 1x05:

in which Jess tries not to jump Liam's bones (and almost fails twice)

[justaholeinmysoul]

Sometimes I think that a lot of normalised bs and a lot of shaming discourse is instilled via internet and media from America to the world youth now more than ever. A non problem becomes one, an issue is suddenly no more. It's true brainwash and it comes from thinking you're inferior to them and guilt. Stop asking them to educate you, listen and then use your brain and values, there's nothing far winged in them, it's OK.

[error-523scintilla]

There’s an interesting conversation here about how Latino communities are used about certain type of conservative Christian (catholic) flavor of statehood where we don’t necessarily discriminate by black vs white or of someone is “black” or “white” enough (not counting Argentina), but we DO have a problem with colorism and classism being heavily intertwined, where the darkest skin colors, and specially in men, tend to be more represented in poorer areas (only surpassed by natives, which are the ones suffering indisputable racism), while mid and lighter skin tones are in more often than not in middle class and upwards.

They seek for the “American dream” after our countries are destroyed by the US imperialism expansion and psy-ops operations, looking for places that share their “conservative” catholic values and customs they’re so used to, that they don’t understand being conservative in the USA is so, so different than in their countries. They flee the “woke” only to find out their mere existence is considered woke in those places, not being welcome. Outsiders. That’s the reality we live in.

They really need the reality wake up call. The punch. To understand they’re not considered part of them. To stop believing those places are just like our countries. They hate us. White USAmericans hate us, no matter how many traditional opinions or believes you may share with them.

Latinos and black people suffer under the same nationalistic white supremacy. And they don’t understand it, as it has probably never happened to them before from where they come. They’re brothers and sisters under the same oppression.

While this does not excuse their behavior nor endorses it, I do hope this explains a little where their mindset comes from. How they don’t get that their actions uphold white supremacy until it punches them in the face.

nah nah nah. y'all wanted to be white so bad, stay there with them and EAT THAT RACISM smfh

[monoukotori]

My boss: if you work hard and commit with your work, your boss will appreciate it and you'll become irreplaceable

Me:

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

(Dark!) BNHA: Toxic Relationship

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female Reader

Boys -> Hawks + Bakugo + Dabi + Deku

Reaction: Moments from your toxic relationship with your Pro-Hero boyfriend.

WARNINGS: Toxic Relationship; Abuse; Manipulation; Non-con.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

Let me know if you like this reaction format or what 🙂

–

Hawks

“Y/n is a real clutz, y’know. Can’t even walk on even ground without tripping over her own feet.”

Your cheeks flame with humiliation as the camera pans to the crowd that laughs heartily at the demeaning words, as if Keigo had dropped the funniest joke they’ve ever heard. 

“That’s adorable.” the woman laughs, “Maybe it has something to do with the fact that she has no quirk? I believe you said she is quirkless, right?”

Keigo chuckles, nodding as he crosses an ankle over his knee.

“She sure is. Can’t even imagine what type of quirk she’d have, she’s just not the type.”

Your hand grips the remote tighter. What does he mean by that? Does he think you’re not good enough to have a quirk?

You consider turning off the TV, but fortunately the interviewer changes the subject. They casually speak about the current stance of heroes and their struggles on fighting off criminals and villains.

Keigo is charming as usual, delivering answers that are a perfect portrait of responsibility with a sprinkle of humor. He’s good like that, even though his previous answers left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Somehow, they end up reaching the topic of hobbies and free time. 

“Going Pro Hero leaves little time for myself, so sadly I don’t really have much time for hobbies. Wish I had.” he says humbly. “My girlfriend has lots of them, though.”

You inhale sharply. Not again. 

For your misfortune, the woman gets interested.

Perhaps because it’s an exclusive interview and her network channel gave her orders to squeeze every drop of information they can get on Hawks’ personal life. 

“What type of hobbies? She looks like she’s a great cook.” she tries to guess, but Keigo bursts laughing, holding his belly in an exaggerated mannerism. 

“Nah, cooking isn’t really her department. Burned eggs and half-cooked pancakes are more her style. She doesn’t even-”

You change channels in a heartbeat, bursting in tears at the low insults.

You’re not that bad. Sure, you’re not amazing at cooking, but never once did Keigo complain when he eats the food you diligently make after he returns from patrols. 

And now he slanders you on national television? 

And the worst part? It’s not even the first time he’s done this. 

Dabi

“There’s nothing to eat in the fridge.” 

“There is.” 

“There isn’t.” 

You stop writing your notes, swallowing back an annoyed sigh, already aware of what was happening.

“There is food in the fridge.” you repeat, “You just have to cook it.”

Dabi looks at you, unimpressed. 

“No shit Sherlock. Maybe you can do it for me.” 

“You serious?” 

Meeting his arrogant smirk, you huff. 

“Dead serious, babe. Not like you’re busy anyways.”

Your mouth drops at his audacity and you open your arms to indicate the mess of books, papers and pens in front of you. 

“I’m studying, Dabi. Can’t you see that? Grow up and cook for yourself, yeah?” you snap your attention back to your books, but your mood has already turned sour. 

You pretend to scribble down a few words when Dabi walks to you slowly. He peeks into your annotations, snorting. 

“That handwriting is kinda shitty.” he mocks you. “Besides, what exactly are you even studying for? You’re not exactly cut out to be a doctor, y’know? Not enough brain cells in you to become that.” 

You glare at him, angrily swatting away the hand that condescendingly tries to pet your hair. 

“You’re such an asshole, Dabi. Maybe if your life revolved around something other than your stupid daddy’s issues, you would actually get a job. Not like Endeavour is worried sick about you, not when he’s got Shoto.” you spit the words venously.

Not the nicest words, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to bother. 

A dark shade crosses Dabi’s face, his amused expression turning colder. You’d be lying if the sight didn’t ignite some fear in you.

“Is that so?” his crooked smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “And why would I need a job - or Endeavour, by that matter - when I have you?”

His hand reaches for your shoulder and there’s an edge in his eyes that immobilizes you. You shouldn’t have mentioned Endeavour. 

“I’m not with you because of that bitchy attitude, you know. I like my girl to know who’s in charge. Respect is really important in a relationship and your behavior is making me really upset, baby.” his tone is scaringly soft, and his hand travels to your neck.

You hold your breath when the staples on his hand scratch against the delicate skin of your throat. “So, if you need me to remind you of your place, I’ll gladly help you with that.”

His fingers heat up at a low temperature, not enough to actually burn you but it doesn’t stop the lonely tear that slides from your eye, the only sign of the chilling terror you’re feeling.

He leans forward, kissing your forehead before sliding his hand away. 

“Are we understood?” 

The nod you give him is shaky at best, but Dabi smiles nonetheless. 

“Now, how about that food you’re gonna make me?”

Bakugo

“I have to wake up early tomorrow.”

Besides a low hum, Bakugo doesn’t acknowledge you much, too busy French kissing your neck.

His hands head for your ass, provoking a wince in you when he gropes it with unnecessary strength, your left ass cheek being kneaded like it’s dough.

Katsuki uses his grip on your ass to push your hips forward even as you complain again. The thin fabric of his sweatpants does nothing to hide the hardness that shamelessly rubs against your thigh. 

“Katsuki.” 

Once again he gives no sign of hearing you, rolling his hips with more urgency and you barely catch the tired groan that almost rolls away from you.

The clock on your side reminds you that despite the early hour, you’ll only have 6 hours to sleep. 

You really have to sleep and if you’re being honest, tonight you’re not feeling sexy or horny enough to sleep with your boyfriend. 

But that doesn’t make you feel any less awkward when Bakugo’s movements turn more vigorous and needy, humping your naked thigh as if he’s fucking it while you remain as alive as a statue. 

“Fuck, this isn’t enough.” he growls against your skin, and your heart skips a beat when his hands reach for your shorts, tugging them down halfway until you panickedly grab his wrist, wiggling your body away from his.

“Seriously, Kats, I’m not in the mood tonight.” you say, quickly pulling back your shorts. 

“You fuckin’ serious right now?” he growls through gritted teeth, still hovering above you. 

Crossing your arms over your chest, you timidly nod. 

“Maybe we can do this tomorrow? It’s just that-”

“Yeah, whatever. Not like you haven’t used that stupid excuse on me before.”  

Your eyebrows raise with surprise at the bitter tone on his voice as he gruffs, pushing himself off you. 

“I’m not making up excuses.”

“The hell you aren’t.” he looks at you, angry. “Every time I try to start something, you turn into a damn nun. Always too freakin’ tired,  too busy or not in the mood.”

He scowls, spiky blonde hair falling to his eyes. 

“All you have to do is open your goddamn legs and let me do the rest, and you can’t even do that.”

His words hit a sore spot and he turns his back on you, settling on the distant side of the bed after delivering strained punches to the pillow to soften it up.

“Maybe I go after those Dynamite's groupies that are always throwing themselves at me. Since you never want to fuck anymore.”

You’re left too stunned to speak, sadness blossoming at the cruel meaning of his words and it’s a struggle to swallow the tears. 

He wouldn’t really, would he? But your mind lingers on the disturbing thought. He’s popular with girls, even with his angry mood.

Bakugo is tall, muscular and not even the ever present scowl in his face is able to contradict the attractive facial features he’s been blessed with. Meanwhile you’re just mediocre, if even that...

Your insecurities strike back, taunting you. 

Your hand reaches for his arm before you even realize it, and you’re mildly surprised when he doesn’t shake you off. 

“The hell you want now?”

Pulling on his arm until he finally turns to the side, you kiss him. 

He groans against your lips, allowing your hand to rest on the warm plane of his chest and you let it slide lower until it touches his clothed member. 

Neither of you speak a word, but you feel Bakugo smirking against your lips while he practically shoves your shorts down. 

You allow yourself go limp underneath him, letting your boyfriend fuck you in the way he wants to. Holding back a tired sigh when the fluorescent numbers on the clock mock you. 

You really have to wake up early.

Deku

“Are you serious, Izuku?” 

The tall hero jumps, eyes widening almost comically when he realizes you’re standing on the bedroom’s doorway and not cleaning the kitchen, like he clearly assumed you to be. 

“I wasn’t- The phone-” he stammers with his words, plowing your phone onto the bed with a bit too much force.

Crossing your arms, you flash him a frustrated glare.

“You promised me you wouldn’t spy on my phone anymore, Izuku.” your stern tone has him frowning and Izuku practically sprints closer to you.

“I wasn’t spying! I was just- just checking the time.” his words aren’t convincing enough for you to actually believe in him. 

You squint your eyes at him, dodging his grabby hands with a nasty slap, despite the hurt expression on his face.

“Izuku.” 

“I wasn’t! C’mon, you gotta believe in me.” 

You don’t. 

“Even if I did go through your phone - which I didn’t - why would that be such a problem?” he complains, dragging his voice. “Do you have something to hide or what?”

You point a warning finger at him.

“Don’t you dare. This isn’t about me. You’re the one who went behind my back because you’re just too insecure to fully trust me.”

He shakes his head, emerald eyes turning feverish. 

“You’re being dramatic, of course I trust you.”

“You don’t, stop lying.”

“I do trust you!” his voice rises in volume.

“No, you don’t!” you scream, voice breaking before you crumble in tears. 

You’re exhausted. Of arguing, of dealing with Izuku, of everything. When did things turn so frustrating, so tiring? Why does he always have to ruin things for you?

Izuku curses under his breath before rushing to you, engulfing you in a comforting embrace as you cry on his chest. 

“You don’t. You never will and I know that.” he stays silent, not contradicting you this time. 

He lets you cry on his chest, his hand gently caressing your hair as he mutters apologies. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” Izuku hugs you harder, arms tightening around you. “I’ll do better, okay? I promise, I will.” 

And like a fool, you accept his promise - even if you know it’s meant to be broken.

[007reid]

stalemate. spencer reid

join the taglist | part 1

summary: spencer reid isn't very fond of you, and that you understand. you aren't fond of him either.

a/n: this was the first spencer thing i wrote and since i cant write a lot rn , i’ll push this out for u guys!! enjoy <33 lmk if you want a p2 🤍

the team didn't welcome you coldly, but they didn't hold their arms open for you to run in, either. you understand completely. they're a family, and have worked together efficiently without you for long enough to not need a second opinion from you. yet a help wanted slot was posted and you have been waiting for an excuse to transfer out of your shitty department anyway, so you didn't have anything to loose. however, now that you sit here listening to the entire team's hearty laughter bouncing off the walls, you regret ever coming to this 'celebration,' or whatever. you regret transferring out of your old department. it was shitty, but it wasn't as shitty as this.

you feel inferior, swirling the noodles in your plate absentmindedly as you think about whether or not your old boss would let you in if you come crawling back. because you would. in a heartbeat. the bau's giggles and inside jokes were foreign to you, and you didn't want to sulk in case of ruining their mood but you can't start smiling and pretending that you fit in either; that's even worse. you would excuse yourself, saying how it's late and everything, but it's fucking seven thirty. and considering how you're surrounded by the best profilers in the fucking nation, they will read the excuses by just a single glance at your face. you'd rather not risk it.

it's not like anyone's rude to you either. you look at jj, then prentiss, then to garcia. they're all leaning into each other, completely in their element. hotch is looking at them affectionately, and you rarely see the man smile but he's smiling now, at peace. then you glance at morgan, who has his arm thrown over reid, drunkenly singing and-

reid.

it's not like anyone's rude to you, except for dr. reid, who's always on his fucking guard and keeps to himself like he's all so superior and mysterious, a man with 3 ph.d's and smarter than everyone in the room and loves to remind everyone of it.

you don't realize you were staring until he catches your eye, and you immediately look away, indignant and scowling at yourself for being caught. you stab at a piece of red pepper with your fork and aggressively bite at it. fucking doctor spencer reid, you think bitterly. he looks so miserable and irritated all the time and you hope it stays that way.

***

flashback~

it's your first day at the bau and you're so excited you can't even keep your breakfast down. you've been waiting for a breakthrough your entire career, and today is the day. you heard about what it was like working in the bau from people who have watched them. they're a family.

as you button your blouse, you grow giddy at the thought of what today would turn out to be like. everyone will introduce yourself to you, and you'll take turn complimenting each other, and then you'll find an obscure interest with every single one of them to connect over. they're a caring family, and you can't wait to receive and give some of the care as you become apart of the team. you leave with your brown bag hanging over your shoulder and a pretty, modest outfit, with your hair done not too deliberately.

the people who told you the bau is like a family was right. as you introduce yourself to them, you can't help but like these people. there is something so effortlessly cool about them, making you drawn to them immediately. jj was at the front door first, waiting to walk you in, introducing herself and the moment she finished a short woman runs towards you, jewels on her ears neck and arms clinking together as she throws herself at you, and the hug feels like one from your favorite aunt. "it's been so long since we had someone new around here!" she squealed. "i'm penny garcia!"

a woman with black hair was lingering around nearby too, and she spoke cooly and slowly, the complete opposite of garcia, "i'm emily prentiss." a man behind a cubicle poked out, his eyes kind and cheerful. he winked and said his name was derek morgan.

"you already met gideon and hotch when they interviewed you, hotch's out right now, he'll be back by afternoon. gideon's getting his morning donuts. and there's reid too," says jj. "but...hey, where's reid?"

the entire team looked around. you didn't know who to look for, but you looked around anyway.

"he was just here a second ago," penny said. "maybe he went to make copies of something."

"you'll see him later," jj brushed it off, "he haunts the place. reid is about your age, comes here early and leaves late. i'm gonna show you to your new cubicle, 'kay?"

you had nodded. jj assigned you a packet to look over, and the hour passed by with you concentrating on the packet and exchanging brief small talk with everyone to get to know them. the absent reid never showed up. by the third hour, your fingers were twitching for a coffee. you set the packet down and walked over to penny's desk, since she was the nicest and least intimidating out of all the agents. "hey," you said, slightly shy. "is there a coffee machine...?"

"oh! yeah, i forgot," she jolted from her seat. the energy in that woman never cease to surprise you. "we should've given you a tour. the lunch room is right down the hall, honey."

"grab me a coffee too while you're there, yeah?" prentiss called out to you from her desk. "black. thanks, y/l/n."

you nodded. you didn't mind picking up another cup, and doing favors for someone does make them like you better and you really wanted to fit in with the team. there was no way in hell you're going back to your old desk job; it lacked the adventure you needed and the people there had no soul to them--you shuddered at just thinking about going back there.

you found the break room with no issue and immediately bee-lined for the coffee machine. you started on prentiss' first, grabbing the green starbucks black-coffee pod from the stand. a voice stopped you in your tracks.

"she takes nespresso."

shocked, you whipped around. at the small lunch table, with papers spread everywhere was a man with brown curly hair, pushed back and out of his eyes. he looked unimpressed. you recognized him immediately; he must be the famous doctor reid who was absent from his desk all day.

flustered, you take the pod back out and puts it back in the stand, taking out nespresso. you knew better than to doubt the guy; he probably heard prentiss' voice asking for coffee and he's been around for ages, he knows what coffee she drinks. "sorry," you muttered. "she didn't specify."

he blinked slowly, and if you had just focused on his eyes alone, you would've immediately been comforted; he had kind, doe eyes, patient and gentle. the scowl on his lips and the flare of his nostrils told you otherwise, though. he didn't like you, and he's not even bothering to hide the fact. while the coffee machine whirls, you stand there awkwardly, and reid scoffed an unamused snort looking at you before turning back to his papers. you turned your back to him and stare at the steam gathering on top of the pot.

what the fuck? you didn't expect to start beef with your coworker on your first day, and yet...you rack through your mind--what did you do? maybe you offended him once on the street and he remembered your face? but you have never seen him before, you're good with faces, and if you had seen a face as pretty as his, you'd remember.

at that thought, you mentally scowled yourself. he gets annoyed just from looking at you, dumbass, you chided yourself. the coffee machine beeps, and you poured out a cup, before starting on your own.

"are you the new agent?" reid spoke again, his voice flat and emotionless but you're no newbie to the game, you knew the hostility was there.

"i am," you said, turning around and found that he was already looking at you, trying to sound as confident as possible. you thought it worked, but when his eyes racked your face for tells, you hesitated. "i'm y/n y/l/n."

"i'm spencer reid," he said. you hide your grimace. i know. "sorry i didn't come out to greet you with everyone, i was kind of caught up," he said, gesturing to the messy pile of papers on the table, but his voice didn't sound apologetic at all. you could take a hint.

"no worries," you said lightly, "i understand."

he narrowed his eyes. you repeated what you said in your head. it was a perfectly normal thing to say. what was suspicious about it? he nodded once, and the coffee machine came to save the day as it beeped softly. you turned around, poured yourself a cup, then headed for the door as fast as you could manage.

"it's nice to meet you doctor reid," you said hurriedly as you're out the door, remembering your etiquette. you want everyone here to like you, remember?

"likewise." he said shortly. and that was that.

end flashback.

***

you've been working at the bau for five months now. you'd say you know everyone pretty well, and the team made room for you to slip into their lives generously. all of them except for--predictably--doctor spencer reid. he keeps his guard up dangerously high and whenever he does decide to acknowledge or address you, it's to prove you wrong or to tell you that you're on to jackshit and you should shut the fuck up.

well. he never said that to you specifically, but you know he wanted to say it. it probably recites in his mind like a mantra.

you thought you had got along with everyone pretty well, minus the doctor you won't speak of, but now that you're sitting here at this team party, you realize you haven't made any progress at all. the team doesn't need you; since you're on the team, all they can do is to be polite to you and accept you as one of their own, but at the end of the day, they're a family and you're just the stray cat lurking outside their house looking for any spare food or love.

outside the office, jareau, prentiss, garcia, hotch, morgan and reid becomes jj, em, pen, still hotch (but more affectionately), derek and spence and you stay as y/l/n. you're tough, and it shouldn't make you feel so upset but it does. you suck it up and laugh along with everyone and you are fine with that, as long as at the end of the day, you get to throw yourself in bed and scream the frustration out into your pillow. it was starting to look up a little bit, until doctor spencer fucking reid has to go butch it all up.

jj and emily has their heads all together along with penelope as they shout out which man she should swipe right on tinder and somehow, you found yourself sandwiched in the middle of these women, genuine tears springing up to your eyes from how hard you're laughing. emily is creative with her insults and it leaves you and jj hanging onto each other shaking with laughter, holding each other in place so that the both of you wouldn't end up on the floor. you feel good. when you look up, however, you see reid's sneering, obnoxious face looking back at you, a beer on his lips and morgan talking next to him but he's more busy looking down on you. for the past five months, you've been letting it slide--emily had pulled you over once and told you how reid feels about change, and you tried to get it, you really tried, but there are limits to your trying.

you try to ignore him and turn back to penelope's phone, jj and emily oblivious and still going at it and yelling out "left! left! dear god, get that man off the screen!" but the excitement is drained out of you. you shake the thought in your head; it's not that serious, you tell yourself, but another part fights back. it is serious. he might be smarter, and more experienced, and works faster, and better, but you both have the same job. he doesn't have any right to be such a fucking dick, and what the hell did you even do? you had just walked in the office one day and when he looked at your face, he had decided immediately that he wanted you gone and have tried to express it as openly as possible ever since.

you don't understand, and you don't know what you did to deserve being so looked down and underestimated. and it hurts, too, and from just a single read of your face he must've known how much you wanted it, to be apart of the team; he's definitely doing it deliberately.

okay, the last part isn't true. you're just paranoid. you untangle yourself from the group, saying over and over again "gotta use the restroom guys...i'm sorry, i'm sorry--" and when the attention is off of you, you walk over to spencer and grabbed at the tacky sweater he has on, dragging him up.

"hey," he whines, annoyed but giving up to you easily. you can sense morgan's amused stare but you ignore it. when you're both almost out the door, he yanks himself out of your grip. "i can walk by myself, okay?" it's dark, but you know he rolled his eyes. you lead him outside to the back of the place and he follows closely behind, but not without grumbling about it. "what do you need?"

you pat your back pockets for your pack and the front pocket for your lighter. usually, you'd ask your company if they're okay with you smoking, but that's the last thing you'd be doing when it comes to spencer. cupping your hand over the cig to prevent wind, you light the cigarette up.

"you smoke?" spencer asks. he sounds surprised.

"sometimes," you inhale, keeps the smoke in your lungs for a second, and exhales, making sure most of it blows into spencer's face. you can tell that it did, but he didn't cough. poker face, you'll give him that.

you take a couple more breaths and spencer (surprisingly) waits for you silently, and when you don't feel like smoking anymore, you throw the cig on the ground and grind it with the rough heel of your boot. you look up at him.

sometimes, you get mad at spencer for how unreasonably pretty he is. he has these big eyes that you swear has glitter in them because they're so fucking beautiful in the sun and when he smiles (which is rarely, around you) the lines on the sides of his face scrunches up like a chipmunk and his eyes would crinkle until it disappears from how wide his smile is. it makes you want to bash your head inwards.

the moon, shining on his face and highlighting his high cheekbones and the wisps of his curls is not helping your case right now. you wonder how a person so beautiful can have such an ugly personality. you know that spencer's personality is not entirely ugly, though; you've seen the way he acts around the team, but when it's you, he transform into an entirely different person. no one has ever been able to tell you why. he's nerdy and giggly and has this charming, childish energy to him when he talks, and you've seen it, inside meetings you're not in and when he doesn't know that you're around.

you're sick of it. without his cruel act, you think you and spencer would make great friends. he's the only person about the same age as you in the bau, and he takes the train home, just like you do. he's afraid of walking past this creepy abandoned movie theater on his way there and you are too. you both read toni morrison and children's books. it's a shame.

you look at him, and it's the only thing you can think about. it's a shame.

"why do you hate me, reid?"

you mean for the sentence to sound demanding, like a confrontation but it comes out weak and wobbly. you feel your guts being punched out of your body from the embarrassment. you sound pathetic, and you're afraid to look up, afraid to see the ridicule on spencer's face and you wouldn't blame him for it. but all you received is silence and when you look up, spencer just looks confused. he stands there like a victim when he's the one who's been acting like nothing but a total ass to you. and that caused the rage you needed.

"answer the damn question, doctor," you say harshly. this unfreezes his out of his trance, and he looks down. it's quiet for a while, and right when you were about to start demanding again, he says, quietly:

"i don't hate you."

and it sounds like a bad fucking lie.

"you don't hate me?" you ask, your voice a lot calmer than how you feel. "you don't hate me but every time i open my mouth it offends you? you don't hate me but you sneer at me all day long, every single time i look at you you're already looking at me thinking about how fucking stupid i am. you don't hate me but on my first day you abandoned your desk to work in the fucking lunch room because you didn't want to see my face. i don't know what the fuck i did to upset you, reid, but whatever i did i don't deserve this bullshit you're putting me up with!" you didn't realize that your voice was getting progressively louder until you're yelling, unconcerned and unaware of the raging party inside. "i get that you don't like me, okay, but i-"

your yell turns into a gasp when spencer grabs your face and crash his lips against yours, aggressive and all teeth. before you could even register what's happening your body goes pliant and you unconsciously lean in, but then spencer rips away and you and shoves you forward like some cheap doll.

"what the fuck?" you murmur to yourself, trying to gain back your balance and spencer's quick to catch you swaying on your feet. his hand finds its way to your mouth.

"goddamn it y/n, keep it down," he whisper-yells. "the entire team must've heard you--"

"get off of me!" you demand, but it sounds muffled and distorted through his hand . you thrash around but he holds you steady, too firm for you to fight against.

"promise not to scream and i will," spencer grimaces. you go limp and quiet and he slowly moves his hand and then backs away, like some scared deer. "wasn't that so hard?"

you stare at him. he's leaning on the railing now, looking at the moon. the moon looks back at him.

you try not to think about the small seconds after he’d kissed you and what it meant. it means nothing. "there are better way for you to get me to be quiet," you say, a little bit angrily. you should be fuming, but you find that you no longer have the energy. he turns to you.

"i didn't think it through."

"you not thinking through something?" you snort humorlessly. "i guess there's a first time for everything."

spencer sighs. “y/n…”

it’s the first time he’s called you by your first name, and it doesn’t help his case at all. "you still haven't answer my question, reid," you say, as coldly as possible (which is not much, admittedly. all the rage you've bottled up over these past few months you've already wasted on that rant and now you just feel tired. and you want to go home).

"i'm afraid i don't have an answer you'll be satisfied with, y/l/n," spencer spits back, matching your tone. maybe even colder. it shocks you a little, how a person with that sweet of a face and voice can be this much of an asshole. it's a waste of a human, honestly.

and it's not that you're saying spencer reid is handsome, either, because handsome doesn't mean anything if the person is a jerk. but everyone can admit he's easy on the eyes. conventionally attractive, one could say. a conventionally attractive jackass, one could also say.

"you're saying you just hate on me for so reason?" you say. "i'm a profiler too, reid, not some intern running around bringing everybody coffee. i see the way you are with other people. you act like a fucking angel, kind and considerate, but when it comes to me--"

"the team, they're my family, y/l/n," he snaps, "i'm sorry for not treating you like family when you're just a stranger." and it hurt, but you give him that one. you know that you're not one of them, it's been made painfully obvious to you, on multiple occasions, each blow harder than the last. but that's no excuse to treat you like a piece of shit, like a brick laying on his way. what, did he act like that with everyone too when he first entered the job? causing scenes with emily and hoping she won't punch him in the face for it?

"i'm not asking you to treat me like family, reid," you grit through your teeth. for a genius, he can be so fucking dense. "i'm just asking you to treat me like a coworker and not some inexperienced kid who just waltzed into the place with no qualifications. is that too much for me to ask?"

he stay silent at that. a breeze visits, and his curls dance. you unconsciously wipe at your lips, the feel and memory of it still photographic on your mind.

after a while, you get tired of waiting. "if you're not going to say anything, i'm going home, reid," you say finally, not expecting a response and not receiving one. not surprised, you turned away and start to head inside. you stop by the door. "i know i'm not really 'part of the team,'" you say, scared that you might sound too honest but it's hard to care too much now, "it's too late for me to transfer back to my old department, they've already replaced me. if i could, i would, and get out of your hair. i guess i'm sorry for not being what you expected."

the moment the words slipped out your mouth, you cringe. you're starting to sound way too weak and you don't want to sound that way, especially not in front of spencer reid, who's probably going to torment and laugh at you inside his big ass head forever. you leave before you can say anything else even more stupid and humiliating. spencer doesn't leave his spot.

***

when you come into work the next morning, it's like the entire world flipped.

there's a fresh cup of coffee sitting on your desk, still steaming and the logo on it says it was from the coffee shop close to the office. when you look around, trying to find the perpetrator you catch emily's eye across the bullpen, who smirk and shrug innocently.

you stride over to her cubicle, eyes glancing briefly over spencer's. his satchel is there, but he's nowhere to be found. you set the cup on her desk, the hard paper making a loud, confrontational sound. "explain."

"i don't know what you're talking about," she says, blinking her lashes. emily can be a great liar when she wants to, and right now, it's like she's not even trying to put in the effort. you narrow your eyes. something's definitely fishy.

"yes you do. tell me."

"i don't know what you're talking about," she repeats, stubborn and sly about it. "somethings should explain themselves."

"who left coffee on my desk this morning, prentiss?" you demand, a step away from stomping your feet like a child. she's playing unfair.

"take a sip," emily says, a suspiciously plotting smile on her painted lips. "see if he got the order right."

"so it's a he," you say accusingly. "you do know who it is!"

"'course i do," she scoffs. "now take a sip."

you could only oblige. bringing the cup close to your lips, you take a precautionary sniff. "there's no poison in here, is there?"

emily snorts. you take a careful sip, clicking your tongue, judging, and then tipping your head back and getting a large gulp. it's possibly the best coffee you've ever had in your life. you don't know why you haven't visited the place earlier. it's definitely exactly what you take in your coffee, alright, but better. it's sweeter but sharper, and it tastes like heaven on earth. you could bathe in it if you could. it's godsend, and that's an understatement.

"jesus christ," you breathe, looking at the sticker on the cup in wonder. emily chuckles.

"so he did get the order right," she says proudly. "knew he would."

"emilyy," you move onto your next strategy. if pressure doesn't work, bribery will. "who bought me this. tell me and i'll bring you coffee from this place everyday for a month." it's a win-win for both sides. you're going to start visiting this place from now on anyway, might as well pick up an extra one for her. it's a small price to pay for such a sacred piece of information.

emily remains firmly resilient, not falling into your bribes. it's fair, emily takes black, and it's hard to mess black coffee up. it probably tastes the same everywhere. damn her. "two months," you challenge. nothing. "three!"

bribery, crossed off the list. next strategy. if bribery doesn't work, whining will.

"emilyy," you cry, clutching onto the coffee as you turn her chair back and forth, spinning her in frustration. "please,"

perfect timing as always, hotch passes by, coffee cup in his hand and files in the other, frown already edged on his face despite it being so early in the morning. "y/l/n," he scolds. "stop bothering prentiss and start on your paperwork. prentiss, no phones."

without another word and two eyerolls behind him, hotch walks away. you start towards your desk but you leveled emily with your best puppy eyes, but she doesn't budge. you settle at your desk, and start pulling out things from your bag. if she doesn't want to give you the information, you'll figure it out yourself.

so a guy bought you coffee. thank god there isn't many guys in the bau, making the list easier for you to narrow down. drawing up a mental checklist, you immediately cross spencer reid off, making sure his name is blacked out by a red marker, memories of last night are still floating around in your brain.

morgan is next on your list. he is a plausible target. he's a sweet talker, after all, and loves to flirt, but the person he would bring coffee to is garcia, not you. they're basically work spouses. and if it was him, why would he start bringing coffee to you now, all the sudden? and there's no way morgan would've known how you liked your coffee, he doesn't remember his own sometimes and liked to switch things up. morgan gets crossed off lightly with a number two pencil.

hotch is next. definitely not. he doesn't even offer to pay at social events (but always end up paying). he shouldn't even be on your list. crossed off lightly with a number two pencil.

rossi. rossi's got the mind storecloud of a computer, he knows everything and pays attention to everything and remembers everything. its what makes him such a good unit chief. so he definitely would've remembered how you take your coffee. he probably knows how everyone in the entire fbi takes their coffee. but if it was rossi, emily wouldn't have been so sly and secretive about it, because there's nothing special to hide. rossi gets in one of his affectionate moods sometimes and is pretty obvious about it. once he got garcia a whole box of designer chocolates, or whatever those were. rossi's name gets crossed off lightly with a number two pencil.

you evaluate your list, stumped. you start lingering on spencer reid's blacked out name, considering it before scolding at yourself. no chance.

"whatcha thinkin' so hard about?" penelope asks lightheartedly, bouncing by. she stops at your desk, an inquisitive smile on her face. you look up and she squeals. "ooh, your coffee's received!"

your attention's immediately grabbed. "you know who bought me this?"

"don't know a thing!" penelope sings. she does a zipping motion at her mouth, throwing the zip away. "ping! the zip is down the drain."

"what are you and emily hiding from me?" you demand. "however much the guy is paying you to keep quiet, i'll pay you double!"

penelope whistles, and emily spins around in her chair to face you. "that is a pretty good deal," penelope says. "but the guy paid us his loyalties, and well..."

you sigh in defeat.

"and unlimited donuts every monday from now on," emily quips.

"i can do the unlimited donuts!" you say enthusiastically. finally, something you can work with. "every monday and fridays. how about that?"

"sorry honey, no deal," penelope grins, flaunting away. emily smirks irritatingly from across the room. you go back to work, but your mind lingers on the list.

who?

***

the coffees start to become a stable. you found that it's no use picking up your new favorite coffee from the shop because when you walk into the office, there'll be one waiting for you, still hot.

the profiler gears start turning. it has to be someone who arrives only minutes before you. maybe a secret admirer from another department? but then there would be an identifying note, a card for a date or something. no secret admirer would go under the radar for that long, and how you he know how you take your coffee?

you crafted a plan. you're going to start coming to work a ten minutes earlier and hide out in the dark. it should've been an immediate solution, but its so desperate you wanted to have it as your last resort. when you have bribed and begged everyone on the team for the identity of this man since apparently the entire team fucking knows and wants to keep from you, you decide you have to pull out your one last ace.

right before the morning that you were going to do it though, the entire team got flown out to arizona.

you'll do it when you get back.

***

something is extremely strange about spencer reid.

he's been strange ever since the night you dubbed in your head as the conversation, avoiding talking to you unless he absolutely has to and when you do get partnered up together, he would treat you like an acquaintance. not a rival. it's a fresh breath of air from being the end of his cruel comments to someone he's reluctant to work with, but it's definitely an upgrade.

so you did manage to get through his thick head.

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

00.1. how it happened:

➴ warnings: none!!

➴ word count: 1.2k

➴ author’s note: welcome everyone!! as i promised, here’s the start to our fuck buddies jack ‘n soph series<3 hope u love them as much as i do!

—♡

IT all started as a joke.

Not your career, no, that was very serious. Sometimes you still couldn’t believe how big you’d gotten. Seriously, it was like magic. People now paid to see your concerts, asked to take pictures with you and related to your songs, your situations.

How crazy was that?

But that isn’t the main joke.

It all started a few weeks after the release of your single, Nonsense. You were alone in your home studio, doing some writing and recording a few ad-libs for your new upcoming album— all songs dedicated to your shitty, fucking cheater of an ex, yeah— when Grace, your best friend and manager, barged in with her phone on her hands.

“Jesus,” you said, putting your hand over your heart. “Don’t you know how to knock? You literally scared the shit out of me, dumbass.”

“Knocking is for the weak. Also, I need to show you this. Ain’t no time for knocking.”

She sat on the chair beside you and showed you her phone. It was some kind of TikTok but even if you tried to understand what it was, you couldn’t.

“So?” Grace asked, a huge smile on her face.

“Hum,” you said, sounding uncertain. “Cool video! Are you leaving me for a TikTok career?”

She laughed out loud. “What?! You’re such a dumbass sometimes,” she showed you her phone again. “This, my love, is the New Jersey Devils account.”

“People who praise the devil like my songs? Didn’t see that coming…”

“Sophia, don’t you fucking tell me you don’t know who they are!” Grace furrowed her eyebrows.

“Hum… I do?” You lied.

She made a weird sound, which sounded a lot like a frustrated scream.

“They’re hockey players, they are in the NHL, National Hockey League. And this video alone has three million likes. And why, you ask me, little puppy,” Grace started using her theater kid voice and you rolled your eyes.

“Probably because they’re hot, I don’t know?”

“I thought that too. But then, I went to check the comments, and all of them were talking about your songs. So I watched the video and I realised, half of the team, grown ass men, were listening to your songs!”

Raising your eyebrows in shock, you watched the video again. And Grace was right. It was one of those “what are you listening to?” videos, but with a bunch of men wearing suits. And at least half of them said one of your songs. Mostly Nonsense, Espresso, Read Your Mind, and, shockingly, one of them even said one of your oldest songs.

Apart from that, the video’s caption said “should we make a Sophia Montenegro x NJ Devils collab??” and, to your absolute surprise, more than a half of the comments said “yes, collab, please!”

Which made you laugh. You were used to all sorts of people listening to your music. Kids, teens, adults, even old people sometimes, but hockey players? Those big ass men who liked to beat each other up during the games?

“That’s new, huh.”

“Apparently, people went crazy over the fact that they listen to your songs. And that’s not even the best part,” Grace squirmed. “Their marketing team reached out to your marketing team,” she pointed to herself. “And they asked you to perform at one of their charity dinners next month!”

You both yelled and jumped out of your seats to hug each other and jump around— being careful with her new Goddess braids. You were so grateful to have someone like Grace to help you out.

“This is, like, a huge thing for you, honey,” Grace teared up a little bit. She cried almost every time you got a new job. “They want to set up a meeting with you, nothing too fancy. They said something about the end of the hockey season and whatever that means, they want you in it.”

“That’s awesome, right?” You smiled. “I’m certain that you said yes already but I’m still going to ask you. Did you?”

“Duh, ‘course I did. You have a meeting with,” she looked at her phone again, reading something. “Shanon Anand tomorrow morning.”

“I love you, Grace Morgan.” You whispered, looking at the woman in front of you, your heart feeling full and warm.

“I love you too, Sophia Montenegro. Let’s rock some hockey boys.”

—♡

TURNS out that Shanon Anand is a very beautiful woman, with Indian features and a smile that would make any dentist proud.

“We are very pleased to have you here, Mrs. Montenegro.” She had a bit of an accent and it was so cute.

You smiled. “Thank you. It’s an honor, really. And please, call me Sophia.”

“Alright, Sophia it is,” she smiled back. “So, I don’t know if you’re familiar with the Hockey world but we’re currently walking towards the end of the seven month season.”

“I have to be honest with you, all I know about hockey is that they skate on the ice and beat each other up. That’s about it, I fear.” You felt your face getting warm.

“It’s alright, dear, no one’s going to ask you questions about Power Plays or penalties,” Shanon laughed and you sighed, thankful. Interviews were something you actually enjoyed doing but answering questions you didn’t really know the answer sucked. “We will hold a charity gala next month, and Grace told us you are available?”

“I am, yeah,” you opened your planner, looking at your summer schedule. “I do have to be in California by the second week of April to perform at Coachella but before that, I’m free.”

“You would be needed in the last week of April, on the 30th. Is that okay?”

“I think so, yes,” you nodded. “Do you have a preference for a performance or?”

Shanon grabbed a huge binder and opened it. “Actually, we do have a few requests, I hope you and your team don’t mind them,” you nodded, grabbing a pen just in case you needed to write anything. “First things first, we’d really like it if you kept it all PG,” she smiled, looking embarrassed.

You laughed, nodding with your head. “I expected it already. Don’t worry, I’ll try to keep my dirty mouth closed.”

“Perfect, thank you. Besides that, we’d request for at least three songs, and if you could maybe sing an acoustic version of them? It’s a night event and the vibes we’re going for are like, jazz club? Sorry if it sounds confusing, we’re still working on the details.”

“Acoustic? Yeah, ‘course. Do you have any songs in mind?”

“No, we thought it’d be better if you chose them. What suits your voice better and all of that.” Shanon ran her hands through her hair and blinked twice in a row. She looked stunning, but tired.

“Alright, I’ll think of a few options.” You nodded again.

“At the end of it, we’d like to take a picture of you with a Devils jersey, if you don’t mind?” She sounded hopeful.

“I don’t, really. I’m fine with it.”

“Perfect!”

The meeting didn’t last long after that and your mind was working really fast to try to have everything perfect. You still had more than a month to prepare so you knew everything was going to be fine.

At least you hoped so.

[ultrone]

we never change !

you piss shauna off during a hockey match after not seeing each other for three years ҂ smut with plot; childhood friends to strangers/enemies, aggressive hockey player!shauna, powerbottom!shauna, angry fuck ﹙6k wc﹚ special thanks to @soffsh for teaching me abt hockey for this lmaoooo

⌒ ⭑⭒ 🏒

the air was crisp and cold. you stood at the center of the rink, your breath fogging up in the cold air. the weight of the hockey stick in your hand was comforting, a steady reminder of countless hours of practice and the fact that you needed to win this game to make it to nationals. the referee held the puck aloft, ready for the face-off.

on the opposite side of the rink, facing you, were the wiskayok university team—your old schoolmates and the team you played with back in your freshman year of college, nearly three years ago. you expected to face them, but you weren’t aware of who was on their team now. as you scanned the line of players, your heart skipped a beat. there she was, shauna shipman, wearing the familiar wiskayok jersey, her face set in a determined frown.

seeing her felt like a punch to the gut. you had played together since childhood, all through high school and into your freshman year of college. while you were part of the hockey team throughout those years, she chose soccer because her best friend, jackie, had convinced her to do so. nevertheless, the two of you would meet at the rink every day after your respective practices and engage in one-on-one games for hours.

however, you wanted more. you truly desired a future in hockey and couldn’t bear to let it go after graduating. so, when you were scouted for a better team, you couldn’t turn down the offer. unfortunately, it was about a four-hour drive away from wiskayok, which wasn’t too far, but still significant.

since you left, shauna kept up with her sticks and equipment, going to the rink alone. you figured the hockey coach must have noticed her talent and invited her to join the team, and she agreed. it made sense because she always talked about hating soccer and wanting to play hockey with you instead. you never understood why she didn’t.

everything you learned about shauna after transferring was against your own will, including that she had a big fight with jackie back at the end of junior year because she was fucking her boyfriend behind her back, or so you heard from tai, your best friend. it was a shitty thing to do, but by then, you couldn't care less. tai was the only one you kept in touch with over the years, as shauna completely ghosted you when she found out you were leaving; it hurt you a lot, but she had always been that stubborn and resentful.

you hadn't seen her since you transferred, and now, there she was, standing on the opposing team. though you had to admit that hockey suited her better; you always felt she was too aggressive for soccer and way too skilled at hockey. you wondered if she even noticed you yet.

the referee's whistle cut through your thoughts, and as the puck dropped, the game began.

the first minutes of the game raced by. the puck was a streak of black against the white ice, darting back and forth as both teams fought for control. you could hear the scrape of skates against the ice, the thud of bodies colliding, the sharp crack of sticks meeting in a battle for the puck. shauna proved herself a skilled player, even better than you remembered—swift and precise in her movements, her stick-handling skills evident. despite the shock of seeing her, you found yourself matching her stride for stride, a sort of rivalry flaring up.

one thing that stood out about shauna was how easily she could be provoked. it surprised you a little, as whenever you played together back in the day, although she was always determined, there was always an underlying gentleness in the way she played against you. nevertheless, it didn’t surprise you as much, as you always knew she was fiercely competitive. any perceived slight or challenge on the ice would set her off. a well-placed block, a successful steal of the puck, or even a smirk after a well-executed play could get her blood boiling. you knew this, and you used it to your advantage. you played her like you would any opponent but with the added knowledge of what made her tick. you could see it in the way her eyes narrowed, the way her grip tightened on her stick.

as shauna streaked toward the goal with the puck, determination etched on her face, you anticipated her next move. swiftly, you closed the distance, delivering a decisive hit that sent her crashing into the boards with a resounding thud. pinning her there for a moment, you watched as frustration flashed across her features. before she could react, a teammate swooped in, stealing the puck from under her nose and launching it into the net with a triumphant slap shot.

“missed me, shippy?” you taunted, a smirk playing on your lips. enraged, shauna shoved you with all her might, fury and disbelief evident in her eyes, before swiftly skating away, her focus now fueled by a burning desire for retaliation.

as the game continued, shauna’s anger seemed to intensify. she began to target you more frequently, her every move a clear indication of her growing resentment. each time she had the puck, she would charge at you with renewed vigour, her eyes locked onto yours as if challenging you to a duel. her aggressive playstyle was a stark contrast to the one-on-one games of the past, and it was clear that she was using her pent-up anger as fuel for her performance on the ice. despite the tension, you couldn’t help but admire her dedication and skill. it was evident that hockey was indeed her true calling.

as the game neared its conclusion, both teams remained locked in a tie with only a few minutes left on the clock. seizing an opportunity, you found yourself in close proximity to shauna, who had previously pushed you aggressively. seeking revenge, you swiftly tripped her, causing her to stumble and fall to the ice. without hesitation, you followed up by literally sitting on her back, pinning her down.

"get the fuck off me," shauna spat out in frustration as she struggled beneath you. you couldn't help but giggle at her reaction, but before you could react further, she exploded with rage. as soon as stood up and turned to skate away, she leaped onto your back, sending both of you crashing to the ground. you quickly turned around to face her, only to receive a punch square in the face.

the referee’s whistle pierced the air, bringing the game to an abrupt halt. he quickly skated over, placing himself between you and shauna. you could feel the warm trickle of blood from your nose, but you swiftly wiped it away with your glove, refusing to show any sign of weakness.

“shipman, penalty box, five minutes!” the referee commanded, pointing towards the box. his voice echoed in the silent rink, the spectators waiting with bated breath for shauna’s reaction.

“that’s not fair! she started it!” shauna protested, her voice filled with indignation. but the referee was unyielding.

“another word, shipman, and it’ll be a game misconduct. now move!” he threatened.

with a frustrated huff, shauna begrudgingly skated towards the penalty box, shooting you a glare as she passed by.

as the game resumed, shauna’s absence on the ice was immediately noticeable. her aggressive defense and quick reflexes had been a formidable force for the wiskayok team. but now, with her in the penalty box, your team seized the opportunity. not even two minutes had passed when your teammate intercepted a pass, swiftly maneuvering through the opposing team’s defense. with a powerful shot, the puck sailed into the net, the crowd erupting in cheers. your team scored.

the next few minutes were a blur of action. your team maintained control of the puck, keeping the pressure on the wiskayok team. by the time the five-minute penalty had elapsed and shauna was allowed back on the ice, it was too late. the final whistle blew, signaling the end of the game. your team won.

as the final buzzer reverberated through the arena, the crowd and your teammates erupted into cheers. you exchanged high-fives and congratulatory pats before they headed to the locker rooms, leaving their gear behind for the equipment managers to handle. however, you had to take a detour.

the punch shauna had landed on your face during the game was more than just a minor scrape. your nose continued to bleed, and the area around your eye was beginning to swell. the team’s medical staff insisted on examining you before allowing you to join your teammates.

so, while the rest of your team celebrated in the locker room, you found yourself in the serene confines of the medical room, undergoing examination by the nurse. she tended to your wound, applied an ice pack to reduce the swelling around your eye, and provided you with pain relief medication. by the time you were done and made your way to the locker room, it was empty.

as you took off your jersey and removed your shoulder pads, along with the rest of your equipment, you placed them with your teammates' gear. now only wearing a sports bra and some compression shorts, you walked towards the sink, your steps echoing in the empty locker room. standing in front of the mirror, you stared at your reflection, analyzing the wound on your face. the bruise was already starting to darken, and a trickle of dried blood marked the spot where shauna's punch had landed.

sighing, you turned away from the mirror and made your way back to the lockers. the place was quiet, the only sound being the gentle hum of the overhead lights and the faint echo of departing footsteps from the rink. you were about to reach for your bag when you heard the sound of footsteps approaching. a familiar rhythm, a familiar pace. you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

shauna.

turning to face her, you couldn't help but notice her appearance, as if she had just emerged from a shower. her hair, typically secured in a tight ponytail during games, cascaded in damp, loose waves around her shoulders, with droplets of water glistening at the ends. the wet strands shimmered under the locker room lights, adding a softness to her otherwise fierce demeanour. she sported snug black shorts that accentuated her athletic thighs, complemented by a clean wiskayok jersey. her feet were clad in white ankle socks and comfortable slippers.

her face, usually set in a determined frown during games, was now more relaxed. the warmth from the shower had brought a rosy hue to her cheeks and nose, a contrast against the chilly air of the locker room. yet, despite her outward calmness, there was an unmistakable anger in her eyes as they fixed on you.

"what the hell was that?" shauna's voice cut through the air, laced with frustration and anger.

you swallowed hard, meeting her intense gaze. "i don't know what you're talking about," you replied, trying to keep your tone steady despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins. “it’s a game, shauna. i played to win, just like you.”

"don't play dumb," shauna retorted, her fists clenched at her sides. "you know exactly what i’m talking about. tripping me, sitting on me like that. that was a cheap shot."

"you're one to talk," you shot back, "what about that punch to my damn face?"

“that was nothing but a love tap,” shauna replied, stepping forward. her tone remained angry, but there was a hint of something else now, an underlying emotion you couldn't quite place.

“you call that a love tap?” you scoffed, closing the distance until you were standing mere inches apart. "looked more like you were trying to knock my teeth out," you shot back, unable to contain the sharpness in your voice. the simmering anger from the game boiled over, fueled by the memory of shauna's punch.

"maybe i was," she replied, a dangerous glint lighting up her eyes. "maybe i wanted to teach you a lesson."

you glared at her, refusing to back down. "for what? for winning? for succeeding in life more than you?"

you could see the fury in her eyes, like a gathering storm ready to consume you both.

"no," she said, taking another step forward until your chests nearly touched. "for what you stole from me. for what you took away."

your heart skipped a beat at her words, and suddenly, you felt the warmth of her breath on your face. the tension in the locker room thickened, permeating every corner.

"i didn't take anything from you, shauna," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "i moved on, and so should you."

"i can't move on," she growled, her hands gripping your biceps tightly. “not when you left me,” she hissed, her eyes burning with anger and hurt. the intensity of her grip made you wince slightly, but you didn't pull away. "you abandoned me, and now you show up here, playing against me, rubbing it in my face!"

"i didn't abandon you, shauna," you countered, your voice rising to match hers. "i left because i had the chance to play for a better team, and you chose to cut ties with me. if you want to blame someone, blame yourself for not staying in touch."

"whatever," she muttered, her voice low and husky, betraying the blend of emotions she was feeling.

"well, if you think that's going to change anything between us, then you're fucking mistaken," you spat, seething with anger. "i don't owe you an explanation, and i sure as hell don't owe you an apology for doing what i love. this was my dream, shauna, and you knew that."

the words hung between you like a heavy cloud, casting a shadow over the locker room. for a moment, you stood there, staring at each other, your eyes locked in a silent battle. then, without warning, shauna let go of your now bruised biceps and slid her hands to your hips, gripping them tightly.

"you're right," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of your own heart. "you don't owe me anything."

you couldn't help but shiver at her touch, even though you were braced for it. shauna's grip on your hips was firm, and unyielding, as if she was trying to hold onto you in a way she couldn't while you were on the ice. her eyes burned into yours, the anger and hurt now replaced with a raw intensity that turned your legs into jelly.

"but i want something," she continued, her lips grazing your ear, her breath hot and heavy against your skin. "and i'm not above taking it," she murmured, her hand sliding lower, gripping your ass tightly.

a surge of electricity ran through you at the unexpected touch. it was aggressive, almost painful, but it sent a wave of neediness through your body.

"what are you doing?" you gasped in surprise.

"what i should’ve done a long time ago," shauna growled, her lips brushing against your neck. her hands moved up, sliding under your sports bra, caressing your breasts. you couldn't help but moan at the sudden touch, your nipples hardening under her fingers.

"you're going to pay for what you've done to me, and i'm going to enjoy every second of it," she promised, her voice low and thick with lust.

her grip on your breasts tightened, and you couldn't help but lean into her. the anger and hurt that had been building up between you for years seemed to dissolve, replaced by a raw, animalistic need.

"i'll give it to you," you whispered, your voice trembling. "anything you want."

her hands moved down your abdomen, her fingers tracing the edge of your shorts. you bit your lip as she paused, her eyes never leaving yours.

"good," she breathed, her voice a blend of longing and frustration. "because i'm going to take everything you've got."

before you could respond, she pushed you back into the lockers, her lips crashing into yours in a fierce kiss. it was aggressive, full of the pent-up emotions you'd harboured for years. her tongue probed your mouth, seeking entrance, and you opened for her willingly.

you groaned into her mouth, your hands grabbing at her wet hair, tangling in the strands as you kissed. her tongue danced with yours, possessive and aggressive as if she was trying to claim you in that moment.

shauna broke away from the kiss, panting heavily. "i should’ve punched you harder," she growled, her eyes flashing with anger. yet, beneath the rage, there lingered something else—desire. she pressed you against the lockers once more, her body molding against yours. "you ruined everything, you know that?" she said, her voice trembling with emotion.

"i know," you whispered, your own breath coming out in ragged gasps. "i'm sorry, shauna." you reached up to cup her face, trying to offer some semblance of comfort or apology, but she slapped your hand away. her anger was still palpable, and you couldn't blame her for feeling that way. "but you can't keep living like this, always holding onto the past. you need to move on."

instead of responding, she leaned in again, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, "maybe i don't want to move on. maybe i just want to make you suffer for what you did." and with that, she bit down on your earlobe, hard enough to leave her teeth marks on your soft skin. you clenched onto her shoulders to contain a scream, grunting instead.

her words were harsh, but their effect on you was undeniable. your body reacted to her aggression. you moaned softly, arching into her touch. she smirked against your skin, her eyes gleaming with newfound determination.

"you like that, don't you?" she asked, her tone dangerous. "you like being hurt by me." she tugged on your ear once more, coaxing another soft moan from you. "admit it."

you hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly. "yes," you breathed, your breath hitching. "i do." you couldn't deny it any longer. there was something thrilling about shauna's anger, the way she could make you feel both pain and pleasure simultaneously.

"get on the bench," she commanded, her voice husky. you hesitated for a moment, unsure of what was happening, but the look on her face left no room for argument. you complied, settling onto the nearest bench and bracing yourself against the cold wood. she kneeled between your legs, her gaze never leaving your face. "spread them further," she ordered, her tone firm and commanding. you obeyed, feeling exposed and vulnerable as she knelt before you.

shauna's eyes roamed over your body, taking in every detail. she reached out, trailing her hands along your inner thighs with deliberate slowness. without warning, she pushed your legs apart even more, spreading you wide open. you gasped, your heart racing as she lowered her head, her warm breath teasing the sensitive but clothed skin between your legs. she moved her lips towards your inner thighs, which had just been caressed by her hands, and began placing open-mouthed kisses upon them. with each touch of her lips against your skin, the dampness in your underwear and shorts intensified. gripping onto your outer thighs with her fingers, she began to suck and nibble your sensitive skin, leaving a trail of marks all over.

you whined loudly, your hips instinctively bucking against her actions. shauna smiled wickedly against your skin, her gaze meeting yours once more. "is this what you want?" she asked, her voice thick with hunger. "my mouth on you, marking you like this?"

you nodded, unable to form a coherent response. your entire body was on fire, craving more of her touch. she grinned, her slender fingers moving towards your clothed center, pressing against it.

"so fucking wet for me," she murmured, her voice rough. "just like i imagined."

without warning, she dove in, giving a wet kiss to your dampened spot. then, she grabbed the fabric with her teeth and pulled back, letting it snap against your skin, eliciting a frustrated moan from you.

“such a shame i won’t be touching you today,” she revealed, a cocky grin on her face.

you choked out a whimper, your heart pounding in your chest. “what do you mean?” you asked, confused, watching her release her hold and stand up from the ground in one swift motion.

“take off my shorts,” she commanded, her tone stern.

not wanting her to get more enraged than she already was, you immediately complied with her request. sliding your fingers around her waistline, you pulled them down, finding it a bit more challenging than expected, given the big size of her glutes.

“now, take off my underwear with your teeth,” she ordered with the same tone.

your eyes widened slightly at her instruction, but you did as she asked. biting the edge of her panties, you carefully pulled them down her legs, revealing her shaved pussy. you couldn't help but notice the wetness glistening on her lips.

shauna stepped out of her underwear, her eyes never leaving yours. "lick me clean," she ordered, her voice low and demanding. you hesitated for a moment, but she grabbed your hair and yanked your head forward, pushing her pussy against your mouth.

"don't make me repeat myself," she growled, her fingers tightening in your hair.

as one of her legs positioned itself on the bench right beside you, you took her into your mouth, her taste flooding your senses. she groaned, her hands tangling in your hair, guiding you. "just like that," she growled, her hips bucking slightly.

you eagerly obliged, licking and sucking at her clit, while gently spreading her folds apart with your fingers. she tasted salty and sweet, her taste making you even more aroused than before. her hips jerked and bucked, her breath hitched as she ground herself against your mouth.

"fuck, yes," she moaned, wrapping her fingers in your hair, holding you close to her. "that’s it, sweetie,” she smirked down at you, her eyes almost playful now, despite the harshness in her voice. her taste was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but moan into her folds. her wetness slicked your tongue as you sucked her clit, thrusting your tongue deep into her.

shauna groaned, her fingers tightening in your hair as she ground against your face. "that's it," she panted, her breaths coming faster. "make me come."

you redoubled your efforts, eager to please her and make her feel good. her clit was hard and swollen, pulsing against your tongue as you sucked and licked it. her wetness coated your mouth, mingling with your saliva, creating a strange but delicious taste.

shauna's breaths grew ragged, her hips bucking against your face, guiding you to her core. "you like that?" she murmured, her voice thick with lust. "you like eating my pussy?"

you moaned into her, barely able to form coherent words. "i love eating your pussy," you gasped, your own arousal throbbing between your legs. shauna let out a triumphant growl, her hips thrusting even harder against your mouth. "good girl," she praised, her voice rough. "now make me come."

you sucked her clit harder, your tongue dancing over her sensitive bundle of nerves. you were sucking so hard you could barely breathe, feeling suffocated between her swollen folds. shauna's breaths grew even more ragged, her hips bucking wildly. "oh, shit," she swore, her grip on your hair tightening. "i'm close…"

the sight of her losing control turned you on even more, your arousal pulsing in anticipation. you knew you wouldn't last much longer, but you needed to make her come first. you increased your pace, focusing on her clit, flicking it with your tongue rapidly. shauna's moans grew louder, her body trembling as she neared her climax. you could feel her muscles tense, her wetness coating your face as you continued your assault on her clit. she was so close, her cries growing louder and more desperate. “f-fuck, i’m coming, i’m coming–” she moaned out.

and then, she did. shauna's orgasm hit her hard, her entire body shaking as she came. you felt her wetness flood your mouth, her walls clenching around your tongue. “god,” you gasped, your mouth full of her juices. her orgasm was intense, leaving you breathless and aroused.

you swallowed her juices, still trembling from the intensity of her orgasm. you hadn't even realized you'd cum, but the feeling was unmistakable. a wave of pleasure washed over you, leaving you weak-kneed and breathless. you pulled back, looking up at her with wide eyes, your cheeks glistening with her wetness. you stammered, embarrassed and surprised. "i… i c–’

“did you just cum without me even touching you?” she asked, her tone stiff, though a glint of pride and cockiness shone in her eyes.

"yeah," you muttered, your cheeks flushing. you couldn't believe you'd cum just from eating her out. you'd always been sensitive, but this was something else.

shauna studied your face for a moment, her expression unreadable. "well, i guess that's a first," she said finally, her voice rough. "it’s kinda pathetic if you think about it," she said with a smirk, subtly attempting to make you feel ashamed.

"pathetic?" you echoed, feeling a bit defensive. "i thought you'd be happy i made you feel good."

she snorted, adjusting her jersey. "you made me feel good, but you came without me even touching you," she repeated, a smirk on her face. "that's gotta be a record."

you crossed your arms, feeling a bit self-conscious. "i don't know why you're making such a big deal out of it," you huffed, glaring at her. she simply laughed, shaking her head.

"whatever," she replied. "i’m nearly done with you yet." she motioned for you to come closer.

you hesitated for a moment, but she pinched your injured nose gently, pulling you up by it. “f-fuck!” you cried out in pain, pushing her away as you covered your nose with your hands, which started to bleed once again.

she tugged on your hair aggressively, forcing you to look at her. “don’t fucking do that again,” she threatened. “take your clothes off.”

you quickly stripped off your clothes, standing naked in front of her once more. her eyes raked over your body, taking in every inch of you.

"i'm gonna fuck you now," she growled, pulling you closer. pinching your cheeks with one hand, she brought you close to her face, licking the blood trickling from your nose in a long, deliberate lick. "and you're gonna take it like the little bitch you are."

you gulped, your eyes widening as she pushed you onto the end of the bench, her body following you down. she straddled your waist, her eyes never leaving your face as she used her hands to guide you back until you were lying flat on the bench.

you couldn't help but shiver at her dominance, her words making your body ache for her. even after everything, you still wanted her, and that realization left you feeling helpless.

"what are you waiting for?" she growled, her eyes flashing with irritation and longing. you bit your lip, eyeing her in confusion. "put your hands above your head," she ordered, her tone firm. obeying her command, your heart pounded in your chest.

shauna leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear as she spoke, her breath hot against your skin. "if you try to escape or resist, i'll break something," she warned, her voice low and laden with menace. you swallowed hard, your body trembling in anticipation.

you winced in pain as she gripped your cheeks again, your nose still throbbing from her earlier pinch. “and if you make a sound, i’ll fucking break your nose this time,” she threatened, her warm breath wafting against your face.

you whimpered at her threat, your body trembling involuntarily. shauna grinned, her eyes gleaming with malice. "understand?" she asked, her voice rough.

you nodded quickly, your heart still racing. you knew she meant what she said, and you weren't about to test her. she released your face, reaching down to spread your legs wide. her eyes roamed over your wet folds, her breath catching at the sight.

without warning, she pressed her wet pussy against yours, her knees digging into your thighs. she was wet and hot, her scent filling your nostrils as she thrust against you. the sensation was intense, her wetness coating your skin as she moved against you. you clenched your jaw, trying to remain still despite the pleasure coursing through you. shauna's eyes met yours, her expression full of satisfaction.

you bit your lip, attempting to hold back any sounds of pleasure as she continued to grind against you. but it wasn't long before your body betrayed you, a soft whine escaping your lips. shauna's eyes narrowed, her grip on your thigh tightening. "i warned you," she growled, her voice dangerous. she slapped you hard across the cheek, the sting causing tears to well up in your eyes. "that wasn't a request," she growled, slapping you again as you bit your lip to hold back a cry. "remember that."

whimpering, your body tensed in pain, your nails digging into the bench for support. shauna's thrusts were brutal, her movements relentless. she slammed against you without mercy, each thrust sending waves of pleasure and pain coursing through you. biting your lip harder, you tried to hold back any noise that might earn you another slap.

"i'm gonna cum all over you," she growled. increasing her pace, your bodies slid against each other in a messy, wet rhythm. clenching your fingers tighter around the bench, you tried to hold back your urge.

"say it," she demanded, her voice fierce.

"cum on me," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "cum all over me," you repeated, your voice louder, though hoarse.

she smirked, her eyes flashing with satisfaction. "that's my girl," she purred, her voice full of triumph. she thrust harder, her hips slamming against yours as she reached her peak. you could feel her pussy clenching around you, her juices coating your skin.

as she came, she leaned down, her lips brushing against yours. "this is what happens when you piss me off," she hissed, her voice threatening. you shivered, her words sending a chill down your spine.

she pulled back, your bodies sticky and slick with each other's fluids. she looked down at you, her expression cold and distant. “now, clean me up,” she commanded. you were exhausted, but you knew better than to defy her. you licked your lips, swallowing the lump in your throat. “yes,” you mumbled.

she smirked, her gaze dark. she positioned herself above you, her pussy hovering over your face. you closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and then began to clean her as thoroughly as possible. her hands gripped your hair, her nails digging into your scalp as you worked. you could feel her breathing becoming heavier, her body trembling above yours. she groaned, her hips bucking slightly as you licked her clit.

though tired, you continued to lick and suck, your tongue exploring every inch of her. she could tell you were exhausted, but that didn't deter you. instead, you worked harder, your tongue dancing around her folds with precision.

as you licked, shauna's breathing grew heavier, her hips bucking slightly. you moaned into her, your lips brushing against her skin, and she growled, her hands digging into your hair. "keep going," she ordered, her voice rough.

releasing her hold on your hair, she instead grasped your wrists, pinning them above your head once more with her hands, using them as leverage as she moved her hips in a front-to-back motion against your tongue. you groaned softly into her, feeling her weight on your wrists as she pressed against your face. her movements were rough, her hips slamming against your mouth, forcing your tongue deeper into her. you whimpered, your body trembling.

she thrust against you, her movements becoming more erratic as she approached her climax. you could feel it, her muscles tightening around your tongue as she neared the edge. "oh, fuck," she moaned, her voice hoarse. your tongue flicked against her clit as she came, your body shuddering beneath her. she cried out, her body trembling as her orgasm swept over her. you lapped at her, cleaning every last drop of her juices from her center and inner thighs.

when she finished, she pulled back, your tongue sliding from her body. she released your wrists, her eyes studying your face, drenched in her juices and dried blood from your nose. "get dressed," she commanded, her voice cold and distant.

you nodded, your body trembling as you sat up. your arms felt sore where she had held them above your head, but you ignored the pain, dressing as quickly as possible. she watched you with a critical eye, her expression unreadable.

she smiled, her eyes lighting up with a dangerous glint. "i know you're not leaving until next week," she stated, her voice calm and matter-of-fact. "i'll pick you up tomorrow after dinner."

you gulped, your mind racing. you knew better than to argue. "okay," you whispered, your voice barely audible. she grabbed your neck, her fingers digging into your skin as she pulled you close, your eyes widening as she choked you slightly.

"but first…" she whispered, her eyes gleaming dangerously. she licked the side of your face, her tongue tracing the line of her earlier slap. the mixture of her juices and your blood was still present, and she savored the taste as she licked it up.

"mmm," she hummed, her eyes flickering with satisfaction. "you taste just as good as you look." she leaned down, pressing a quick, hard kiss to your lips. her lips were rough, her tongue invading your mouth for a moment before she pulled away.

"see you tomorrow," she said, her voice cold. with a sudden movement, she slapped your ass before turning on her heel, walking away without a second glance.

you stared in shock as she left. "this can't be real," you told yourself, running your hand over your neck, feeling the pain shooting through the bruises beginning to form there. your breathing was shallow, and your mind still spun from the sudden turn of events. you stumbled into the bathroom and splashed water on your face, trying to tidy yourself up as much as possible before gathering your belongings.

stepping out of the locker room, you spotted tai waiting for you, as she had offered to give you a ride home. "the fuck took you so long?" tai huffed, sounding annoyed.

"sorry, got held up by some of my groupies in the lockers," you quipped, causing her to roll her eyes. it wasn’t until she noticed your disheveled appearance, which you had done a terrible job of hiding, that her expression changed to one of concern.

"hey," she said, her voice softening as she rubbed your back. "you okay?" she asked.

you nodded. "yeah, i'm fine," you murmured, “rough game,” you said with a tired chuckle.

tai eyed you suspiciously, but didn't press further. "let's go," she said, leading you out of the rink and towards the parking lot.

[kivino]

Platonic!Task Force 141 x Eastern European!Reader

Word Counter – ~1.9k

Summary – a compilation of headcanons about how reader’s Eastern European background would affect interactions with Task Force 141 during an undercover mission together.

Tags/Warnings – Gn!reader, Eastern European!reader (obviously), Platonic!TF141, fluff, mostly.

A/n – RUSSIANS DNI (this is a personal boundary, so I ask you to respect it, if you don’t like it just scroll past this post). Very self-indulgent. Just showing more love to my fellow Eastern European readers. Since it is mostly based on my own experience growing up as a Ukrainian, I’m sorry if certain things don’t resonate with you! This whole thing was made for fun and fun only.

So, let’s assume our beloved Task Force needs to go undercover to get some information on Makarov and his merry band of goons. Obviously, they can’t do it without at least one team member, who is familiar with the way of living in Eastern Europe. So, naturally, Laswell introduces you to them – born and raised there, ready to help them and stop your sworn enemy from escalating an already pretty shitty situation.

“So, allow me to introduce your new team member for the duration of this mission” Laswell nods to the door when you walk in, saying your name and callsign, already catching some looks full of curiosity from Task Force 141.

First thing they noticed about you? Resting bitch face for days. Who needs a mask when you have a death stare that will give the heebie-jeebies to most if not all of your teammates? However, they feel even more taken aback when you suddenly greet them with a warm, welcoming smile and a firm handshake, not a trace of that sour expression on your face.

One would think that you’d spend hours preparing four of them for the mission by teaching them language, helping to memorize names and faces of contacts, Makarov’s trusted allies, and potential targets. Naturally, you did your job, but those precious hours were also spent with you standing next to a whiteboard, ranting about the politics and societal issues of your country, explaining certain national jokes, and teaching them swear words or poetry you studied at school. But hey, they’re not complaining (maybe a little).  

They were skeptical about this whole deal at first. However, there was a shared understanding between the four of them that they needed to do whatever it took to stop the spreading of Makarov’s influence and diminish his resources in other countries. With time, however, they’ve found things that made their life in a completely new environment a bit more enjoyable and interesting.

Soap would pick up on your native language the fastest out of the Task Force. Under all these jokes and goofiness Johnny’s a smart guy, inquisitive as hell too, which makes a pretty good mix. He’d try to write down how you pronounce things in his sketchbook, dedicating pages upon pages to making a small vocabulary of what you say, searching up the translations of words any chance he gets. Convinces himself that it just helps him to get more into his new way of life, and not at all because he likes seeing you all excited when he slips a word in your language somewhere in the conversation.

“So how do you say it?” he points to the sentence, messily scribbled on the page with the ballpoint pen he slipped from Gaz. There is a slight frown between your brows – the word looks unfamiliar, more like gibberish than something in your language. You can practically feel the gears in your head screech and come to a halt as you drill Soap’s handwriting with your eyes.

“Oh, wait. You made a mistake here. No wonder I have no idea what this is.” You quickly take the pen and scratch the right version of the word on the paper, while Johnny chuckles at your brutal honesty. He doesn’t say anything though. Some time passes and you’re already correcting other words he wrote down, explaining the right way to say them. And you can feel a pleasant warmth spread in your chest when you can see Soap’s utmost attention directed at you.

Johnny can’t help but feel that moments like these were somewhat of a way to bond for you two. He’d jokingly offer to give you some Scottish classes each time you playfully flick him on the forehead for a word he pronounced wrong. He never expected you to take him up on the offer until the five of you got stuck in a countryside safehouse and essentially had nothing to do while waiting.

On the topic of Eastern European countryside, Price is not an old man by any measure, man’s not even forty yet, but it would grow so massively on him that it’s concerning. When you finally got a good, reliable contact that gave you some useful information you had to lay low for some time in a safe house not far from one of many Makarov’s places where the next weapon deal would be held. And while you waited several days for his people to show up there, obviously almost all of you were bored out of your minds. Not Price though. The man went exploring. Of course, taking you with him (he only wanted company on his small journey through the cozy countryside, don’t blame him).

Soon enough, during your walk you two come across the abundance of berry bushes and fruit trees everywhere, and while you pick something to munch on from them constantly, Price only scolds you. You smirk in response, giving him a handful of ripe mulberries, your lips and fingers now a dark red color from the juice.  

“It’s going to rot if nobody eats it. People who plant these trees would rather someone enjoy them instead of fruits just falling on the ground, getting squished, and going to waste.” And Price takes note of that with a small smile. Soon enough the two of you find a spring the whole village uses, a willow standing tall beside it, providing shade for you two to rest, chat a bit, and cool yourself off with fresh water. The fact that there are not many people around also doesn’t miss him. It’s quiet and peaceful, Price finally feels like he has room to breathe with his whole chest.

“You know, I could get used to a life like this.” Price finally mutters, enjoying your simple, comforting presence, walking along the river shore, and hearing the distant sounds of a train passing through the village. You look at him with understanding in your eyes, as you see the tension in his shoulders finally slipping away. Your captain relaxes, which is a pleasant change of pace from the frown on his face that you got used to.  

All five of you had to live in the same apartment in an old panel building closer to the edge of town. Not the best place to live, but a good opportunity to blend in with the locals and find leads on Makarov’s criminal “friends”. More than once you’ve found yourself sitting together with Ghost on the balcony that creaked with each blow of the wind, in complete silence while he was smoking some cheap cigarettes that smelled more like burnt paper instead of tobacco.

“Can I join you?” Your voice is a quiet rasp, as you lean against the doorway, pushing the mosquito netting to the side. You couldn’t sleep. Not when the whole world will go down the drain if you fail your mission. Not when it’s been a month already and it felt like you were still right where you started.

“Knock yourself out” the man shrugs, patting the stool near him. You shuffle your bare feet on the newspapers that were laid out on the balcony floor, plopping down on the seat, your eyes immediately getting glued to the view, enjoying the breeze that seeped through the open window. You two sit in silence for so long, but it doesn’t feel awkward, quite on the contrary – weirdly calming and serene.

After that night these nightly smoke breaks became a sort of tradition for you two, a way to wind down after a long day. Ghost would nod towards the balcony, a silent invitation reserved only for you. Regardless of whether you’re a smoker or not, occasionally he would offer you a cigarette from his pack or a hit from the lit one. A gesture of camaraderie.

“Thought you’d be more talkative.” Ghost’s voice sounds gruff after the whole day working your asses off just to discover the lead that you had was absolute bullshit.

“And I thought you weren’t a type for small talk.” You grumble in return, just as annoyed about coming back to this dingy apartment with nothing.

“That I am” He lets out a low chuckle, flicking his cigarette into an ashtray in his hand, avoiding eye contact with you.  

Kyle found himself liking your cooking above everything else. The way he would eat anything thrown together in a hurry by you was quite flattering. So soon enough you offered to teach him how to make some of your favorite national dishes, and he couldn’t say no to your offer. So, you decided to start easy – picking out the fresh ingredients. And where do you go to do that? Not a grocery store, no way in hell. The market filled with tons of people is the place you need. A lot cheaper than your usual supermarket too.

The number of times you got discounts for fruits and vegetables on the market from older women just for Gaz’s pretty eyes was insane. He would just blink at you with confusion written all over his face anytime you glanced at him with that smile and refused to explain why you spent a lot less money than expected on the fresh vegetables. At some point, Gaz even questioned his ability to count before you told him just not to worry about it since you got a “very special bargain”. And, obviously, Kyle was the one carrying the plastic bags filled to the brim with fresh produce.  

“You know, your version of the dish is not half-bad,” You say, licking the spoon and giving Gaz a wide smile, which he immediately returns to you tenfold. Spending time like this with him was a pleasure. Each minute spent together made you loathe even thinking about the time when you’d have to part ways and you won’t be able to teach him your cultural cuisine like this anymore.

“Well, I have a great teacher to thank for that.” Gaz gives you a charming smile, so glad to finally have a distraction from the constant looming presence of Makarov in his thoughts. Right this moment he caught himself thinking that he was happy they had you here with them. It would be a lot harder if not for you supporting and guiding them through everything. He felt…thankful.

You’d bring the whole Task Force to different cafes that serve your country's most famous dishes, but Kyle would be the one to enjoy these outings the most, barely raising his eyes from the plate to participate in the conversation.

“Wow, are you in a hurry or something? The food won’t run away from you.” You chuckle, while Kyle ignores the odd saying coming from you and continues to eat with the huge appetite he had ever since this undercover mission started.

However, nothing lasts forever, so after finishing their business with you, getting all the information they needed, and “cleaning up the mess” Task Force 141 bids you farewell, returning to their usual duties. Saying goodbye is never easy, even if you knew each other just for several months you still got attached to them, just like they grew very fond of you (as much as some of them hated to admit that). But hey, they promised to visit you after they finish up with Makarov. They promised. And the four of them keep the promises they make.

taglist - @mockerycrow @stridersdiner

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[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Kinkuary Day 6

AN: Let it be known that this Chris lives in my head rent-free. I know exploring free use with a dominant partner isn't a new concept, but I still don't see it explored as much, so I thought it would be fun to try my hand at it. Especially with the king of the service doms.

Synopsis: Everything sucks. Today might be one of the worst days of your life (and that's against some stiff competition). Fortunately for you, you have a boyfriend who is more than happy to distract you.

General tags and warnings: Christopher Bang/Bang Chan x Fem! Reader, established relationship, some angst early on but, nothing too bad imo, Christopher being the nation's best boyfriend and that's it. This is pretty much porn with very little plot.

Primary kink: Free use.

Smut tags and warnings: Chris struggling to relinquish control lmao but, Soft Dom! Chris nonetheless, sub! Reader but she does take charge quite a bit in this, free use, facesitting, slight overstimulation (f. receiving), piv sex without a condom, dirty talk, lots of praise and petnames because it's Chris, Daddy kink, creampie and nipple play (f. receiving).

Word count: 2k.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

You're surprised you're able to still trudge through your front door after the day you've had. Between completely forgetting about an assignment that was due today, six separate customers yelling at you and your phone screen shattering, saying today has been a bad day would be putting it kindly. You've never wanted to just disappear to a cottage in the countryside more. You're sure you could convince Chris to leave with you.

Speaking of which, the sight of your boyfriend on your shared couch does help ease some of the overall terribleness that has been weighing you down all day. Dropping your bag, you make your way over to him. Wrapping your arms around his broad, solid body while you nuzzle against his neck. His mere presence is enough to relax the tension in your shoulders and soothe the anxiety that never seems to quite go away.

“Hi baby. Didn't know you were home. How was your day?” He asks, taking off his headphones. Placing them and his laptop on your coffee table, which does make you pout a little since he's no longer in your arms. However, he does turn to you and you're struck with just how soft and handsome he looks. That, combined with his question, makes your throat burn and your eyes start to sting.

“Horrible,” you mutter, nestling yourself into his chest and sighing contently when he rubs your back and happily crushes you to his frame. It's easy to forget everything when he holds you like this. All the shitty professors, entitled customers and piles of coursework fade away and there's nothing in your mind but, Chris.

“I'm sorry, baby. Do you want to talk about it? How can I make it better?” God, does he have any idea how irrevocably in love with him you are? Sometimes, you think you might have been some hero in a past life for him to wind up in your life. However, you mull his offer over before an idea finally sets in.

“Lavender?” You ask, blinking up at him and pressing yourself as close to him as humanly possible. Clutching at his simple, thin shirt while you wait for his answer.

“Are you sure? You have had a pretty shitty day so I don't know–”

“Yes, Daddy. I'm sure. So, lavender?” You don't mean to cut him off but, you really do need this right now. His concern is sweet and you always appreciate it but, you just need to shut your brain off for a few hours.

Exhilaration creeps up your spine as you watch the way his face shifts when your words register to him. His hold on you tightening marginally but you notice it all the same.

“Okay, lavender.”

That's all it takes for you to launch yourself into his lap. Nearly toppling both of you over in the process but, Chris steadies you while you make yourself at home in his lap. Holding his face in your hands while you slot your mouth against his. It's messy and more eagerness than anything on your end but, it feels so good to just kiss him again. Chris does try to bring some order into your uncoordinated liplock, guiding your mouth against his while his hands rest on your hips.

Sex wasn't on your mind before you walked through the front door but, now? Grinding down on the hardness you can feel starting to form under you while you explore Chris's mouth? Desire twists like a knife in the pit of your stomach. Your clit throbbing with every clumsy brush against his lap and your walls starting to clench and unclench almost painfully. It's probably some record how quickly your panties become a mess while you hump against Chris for dear life.

“Off please,” you breathe once the two of you separate to catch your respective breaths. Saliva smeared across both of your mouths and you would dive back in if you weren't so focused on getting his shirt off. Luckily for you, Chris is just as impatient as you are so he tugs it off within seconds. Tossing it to be forgotten on your living room floor.

You can't help the moan that bubbles out of you at the sight of his bare chest. You've seen it thousands of times and it still never fails to turn your blood molten. Palming as much of him as your hands can, you litter his neck with kisses and nips. Whimpering into his skin when his hands drift from your hips to grab and knead your ass over your work skirt. His hips shallowly thrusting up into you. Fuck, you're already so tightly wound.

A startled noise leaves Chris when you (gently) shove him onto his back but, he doesn't complain otherwise. Just watches you with a mixture of want and curiosity through his curly hair. His eyes widen when you eventually shuffle up his body until you're hovering over his beautiful face. A shudder runs through you when his tongue darts out to lick his full lips before his dark eyes meet your own again.

You're too desperate to care about getting undressed so, you hurriedly shove your panties to the side before easing yourself onto his face. The first touch his mouth against your drenched, puffy folds sends you reeling. You grab the back of the couch in an attempt to steady yourself but, Chris doesn't give you a chance. Lapping and sucking at you with so much intensity from the get go that you can already feel your thighs starting to quiver.

“Ah, Daddy,” you whimper when he decides to focus all of his attention and energy on your clit. “Fuck, oh my god,” comes your broken moan when he attaches himself to it. Licking and drawing patterns into that you couldn't hope to decipher at the moment when it feels like you're able to break into a million, little pieces soon. It's all so lewd and obscene and hot. The wet sounds of him eating you coupled with your wanton noises of pleasure seeming to echo throughout your entire apartment.

Your hips move on their own accord. Using his unfairly gifted mouth and cute nose to get yourself off. You're practically riding his face at this point and, based on the moans Chris presses into you, he's enjoying this just as much as you are. You know if he had it his way, he'd be using his hands to shove you even further into his face but, he's happy to lay there and let you use him until you're satisfied.

Which doesn't take all that long. Usually, you're pretty good at being able to tell when you're about to orgasm but, this time it catches you completely off-guard. A jumbled mess of ‘Daddy’ and ‘Chris’ fall from your lips as your body convulses. Your fingernails dig into the couch so fiercely that for a fleeting moment you're worried you might have ruined it.

Chris doesn't allow your mind to wonder for too long, though. Licking your gushing wetness like it's the first bit of liquid he's had in days while his nose brushes your throbbing clit. Your thighs shake and tightening around his head as the familiar burn of overstimulation starts to settle in the apex of your thighs and creep to your extremities.

“Da–Daddy,” you choke out, winding your hand into his hair and tugging his mouth away from you, “To–Too much,” you finish with a great deal of effort. Using all of your strength to move off of him until you're hovering over him. Your respective, unsteady breathing all that can be heard.

Cracking an eye open to look at him is a grave mistake. Between his wild eyes, unruly hair, flushed cheeks and full, bruised lips covered in you, you never stood a chance. And the sporadic clenching and unclenching of your still not filled pussy helps make that abundantly clear.

Chris watches you while you shift down his body. Air catching in his lungs when your hands reach for the waistband of his sweats and impatiently tug them down. He's so hard and a teasing dribble of pre-cum leaks from his tip that you can't help yourself from bending down and licking it.

“Fu–Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, throwing his head back while his hands clench and unclench at his sides. Cute. His hips just barely jerk up in search of more relief from your mouth but, you don't give him the satisfaction. You have other plans in mind.

Grabbing his thick cock, you guide it to your dripping entrance. Just barely able to keep your eyes open to watch him as you sink down onto him. You lose that battle very quickly. Your eyes fluttering shut with every inch of him you sink down on until he's fully inside of you. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You can already feel tears building up at the corners of your eyes just at the sheer fullness you feel right now.

“–so tight. Such a good girl. Always so fucking good,” Chris's words bring you back down for a moment and you blink your bleary eyes open to look at him. Your walls clamp down on him harshly when the sight of your sweaty, flushed boyfriend greets you. That's all the prompting you need to start a brutal pace. His cock just opens you up so deliciously that you can't help but bounce on it. The sounds of your skin hitting his and the filthy squelching between your thighs nearly drowning out your shared noises of pleasure.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” you chant, impatiently tugging open your work shirt and shoving down your bra until your breasts are finally free. Chris's eyes burn as they watch you palm your tits and tug on your nipples until you're just barely able to focus on fucking yourself stupid on him. “I feel so good, Daddy. Your cock makes me feel so full,” you whimper after an especially harsh twist of your nipples.

“Yeah?” He pants out, his dark locks starting to stick to his sweaty forehead while his eyes struggle to pick between looking at your beautiful face, your hands toying with yourself or his cock disappearing inside of your scorching pussy. “Does my princess like using Daddy to get herself off, hmm? Does it feel good to fuck yourself on Daddy's cock while he just lies here? Tell me, baby.”

“Y-Yes, so good, Daddy. Your cock feels ah fuck so amazing, Daddy. You feel so good, Daddy.” You whine, one of your hands snaking its way between your thighs to rub against your swollen clit. A fractured moan bubbling out of your throat while you rub frantic circles against yourself and try to maintain the pace you set on Chris's cock.

“That's good. You look so pretty using me to get yourself off, sweetheart,” he coos, giving you a smile so soft that you can feel your heart grow in your chest while your release grows closer and closer. “Are you going to cum, baby? Gonna cum all over my cock, beautiful? Hmm? I want you to. Wanna see you cum so badly. Wanna feel you make a mess all over me.”

And just like that you feel your entire body seize. You're not even aware of what's coming out of your mouth right now but, you can't bring yourself to care. Your vision blurs at the edges while your entire body shudders. It takes every ounce of you not to completely collapse ontop of him while you ride out the waves that keep crashing into your limp body.

“–my girl,” is all you hear in the distance before you feel his large hands grab your hips and something warm filling your spasming walls. Opening your eyes with a great deal of effort, you're greeted with the sight of a panting, fucked out Chris. His cock pulsing inside of you with every rope of cum that shoots out of it. That does eventually prompt you to collapse onto his sturdy chest. Nuzzling into his neck while your shared releases start to leak out of you.

“Feel better?” He asks, rubbing your back soothingly while pressing featherlight kisses against your forehead.

“Yes, thank you. I love you,” you mutter tiredly into his skin, pressing yourself as close to him as you can.

“I love you too, baby,” are the last words you hear before succumbing to the fatigue that's been calling you all day.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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Kinkuary Masterlist | Stray Kids Masterlist | Ko-Fi.

[kaypeace21]

I'm back (Announcement!) :D

Hey guys, I'm back! I got my 2nd degree and am studying for the national exams at the moment which will happen next month. I'll make a more formal 'announcement-post' about the future of this blog once I'm done with the exam.

But, the short version is I want to explore and analyze more shows/films . I've seen a few options I want to explore.

I've been watching 'interview with the vampire' and I'm obsessed! I have so many theories about the show, the characters, the unreliable narrators. I'm working on a HUGE video that will be posted here and on my youtube channel. Hopefully I can get it done before the s2 finale next Sunday (cross fingers). :) lol,I've been working on it for weeks , with my shitty imovie XD.

Hopefully some of you actually like the show. If you're a fan I think you'll be excited for it .