#those two wants can co exist

[potahun]

i want ppl in-detco-universe to be nice to furuya because he needs nice things. i also want people to kick him

[jewreallythinkthat]

The most moderate, nuanced and productive people I have discussed the Israel-Hamas war with have been Jews, Israelis, and people with Palestinian family. Everyone directly affected by this just wants it to stop and to have peace and safety in the region in a way that minimises the casualty count.

The most extreme and performative and vile things I've been told are by people who have no connection to this and like to think they are experts because they have covered adjacent topics during learning, or read stuff online.

If all the randos in the west would just shut up for ten minutes and let those of us actually affected, with an understanding of the history of the land and the culture and the generational trauma experienced by Jews and Palestinians alike talk, we might actually have a chance to salvage this and stop it spiraling

[wazzuppy]

me wanting to get into elden ring vs seeing how absolutely fucking rancid the community is towards anyone who dares to ask for difficulty settings and accessibility options.

on that note: HERE is a link to abledgamers

[jeysbvck]

raw time aaaaaa😍

can't wait to see my baby boys again let's pretend that they're not gonna get screwed over by tjd for the tag titles again🫠

[auroralwriting]

the gun

spencer reid x genius!bau!reader

oh yes, oh yes, oh yes, they both reached for the gun, the gun, the gun…

"you just needed to prove to Spencer, once and for all, that you had all the skills to be the best agent, the best genius."

word count: 2.3k

warnings: cm violence, blood, enemies to lovers, kinda rushed im sorryyyy, fem reader slightly mentioned

a continuation of this story can be found here

Spencer and you always competed. He had an eidetic memory, you had a photographic.

The difference between you two was anything you ever saw, read, you held in long-term memory. Spencer’s, though, resided in short term. However, Spencer was also an autodidact, meaning he could teach himself anything. You also had a vast emotional intelligence. You had such strong empathy, you could detect any micro-detail anyone displayed, making you the perfect lie-detector one that even Hotch couldn’t evade.

Spencer was Jason Gideon’s special boy. Gideon helped Spencer make his way in the BAU. You were David Rossi’s special girl, him noticing your skills from a young age when he met you during a case. He guided you to make all the best choices, leading you to the BAU as well. It took a few years, timing and all, but you got there.

When Dave transferred to Quantico’s BAU, he requested your transfer as well. He thought you would mesh well with the team. More specifically, he assumed you and Spencer would become a genius duo; totally unstoppable.

Oh, how wrong he was. It was from the moment you’d corrected Spencer on some statistic he spewed, you both became enemies forced to co-exist on the same team. There was never a civil moment, always some fight. It was sad, too. You remembered the first time you saw him, you were struck by how cute he was. Too bad he decided to hate you before you got a chance.

Vividly, you remembered the most intense fight you both had.

“So someone with a medical degree,” Hotch muttered. “That’s got to be impossible.”

“It’s more likely that have a nursing degree.” Spencer replied. “We’d be looking at around one hundred eighty thousand people a year. If our unsub is a new graduate, that’s the numbers we’d be looking through.”

You shook your head, “It’s actually one hundred fifty seven thousand. Also, narrow it down to nursing degrees in New York, and you get around eight thousand. Eleven percent were men, so around six hundred. Lower it even more to those who don’t have any family members, most likely from group homes, you can get maybe seventy?”

oh, yes

Garcia clacked away at her keyboard, “My baby’s got it! Seventy two people. If we’re looking at NYU specifically, thirteen.”

Pride filled your system. It was fulfilling when you were able to get things right. Spencer, on the other hand, wasn’t too happy about that.

“You know, nobody asked your opinion.” He scoffed.

“It isn’t opinion, Reid. It’s purely fact, ones you should probably get right.” Your reply had Spencer clenching his fists.

How dare you insult his intelligence? His IQ was much larger than yours, you weren’t one to speak on that. “Maybe you should focus on the case instead of trying to be a people pleaser,” Spencer sneered your way.

His reply made you roll your eyes, “At least I can tell what people want. You’re oblivious, Reid.”

oh, yes

Slowly, the two of you began to go back and forth, your voices raising. Before the situation blew up, Hotch stepped in, trying to mediate. However, Spencer mumbled something under his breath, something you couldn’t just let go. It hurt, stung like a bee, and you weren’t going to let him walk away feeling victorious.

“At least my mentor didn’t up and leave me.” you snapped. “He’s still with me, he didn’t just vanish with a stupid little note as a dingy goodbye.”

Spencer had paused, face dropping. You read him like a book, you’d gone too far. He showed minuscule signs of distress, grief, sadness. The room was silent, no one quite knew what to say.

oh, yes

“Reid, I-”

“Save it.”

Spencer had walked away, leaving you to feel shameful of your words. Rossi just squeezed your shoulder. The man knew you didn’t mean it.

they both

Since then, it was like the two of you were on each other’s cases, constantly bickering and arguing. Now, you were almost subconsciously battling each other for the genius role of the team. Was there any need to? No, not at all, but your fights had become not a battle, but a war.

You stood outside the bank with your team. “They have hostages,” You identified, attempting to peer inside. “There’s no way we can go in. It’s a suicide-murder mission.”

oh, yes

“There’s gotta be a way,” JJ shook her head. “Maybe there’s another way in.”

“It doesn’t look like it,” Derek sighed.

After a few hours, Will made the decision to go inside. You had to help hold back JJ as he walked in. Hearing the bullets made you sick. You physically had to double over, holding back the tears. It suddenly hit you how dire the situation was. You went back to the van with the team. No one really knew what to say.

"Did you see where he was shot?" JJ asked. "Is he alive or dead, Garcia?"

Penelope's breath was shaky, "I don't know."

"He was wearing a vest." Emily reasoned. "He might be okay."

JJ gave a smile, but it was one of disbelief. "Might be," She muttered, shaking her head in reply.

It was then that the team decided to go in. You shoved your gun in your holster, "I'll take first point," You offered. "Check and see if Will's okay. I'll try and manipulate them into letting me go to him." Hotch nodded. With your knowledge of psychology and your emotional intelligence, Hotch knew you could do it.

they both

"L/n, it's too dangerous." You heard Spencer say over the phone. "Just wait for me to tell you where to go in."

You rolled your eyes, "Reid, I'm not stupid. I've handled multiple hostage situations."

Spencer didn't reply. You liked that. This was the first time you'd be able to prove yourself without Spencer's help. This was honestly just a way for you to prove you were the better of the two. Your actions were motivated by the desire to be the best; a classic narcissistic move. You weren't a narcissist, though. You just needed to prove to Spencer, once and for all, that you had all the skills to be the best agent, the best genius.

Oddly enough, hostages flooded out of the bank as you made your way back outside. Maybe Will was alive and managed to get them all out. Once none more came out, you and two other cops began to make your way inside stealthily.

Right as you got in the middle of the bank, you heard Rossi's panicked voice over your comms, "Abort, abort!"

oh, yes

There was no time to reply. It all happened so suddenly. You heard the explosion before you felt it. It was hard to breathe. You couldn't see, hear. It slowly registered that there was a bomb, and it went off.

they both reached for

You had no clue where you had been thrown to. Everything felt cold, really cold. A loud ringing filled your ears as you slowly sat up. You touched your head, pulling back to feel stickiness on your fingers. Your vision was blurry, but you knew it was blood. You had to get out of the building. You needed help, medics, your team. Was anyone else in your team inside yet?

they both reached for the gun

A grunt left your lips as you stood up. You felt your legs give out under you, and you went down again. The desire to live was stronger than your physical weakness, and you stood up again. It was so dusty and hazy that you couldn't see. You leaned on the nearest wall for support, slowly using it to try and find your way out of the building. All that you heard in your head was get out, survive, get out, survive.

After what felt like ages, you felt a breeze against your skin. You followed it, hoping it would lead out, and it did. The light was harsh on your eyes as you tried to scan the area. It was then you saw Spencer and Hotch-- what was Spencer doing here? He was still at the BAU last you'd checked. Maybe the blast knocked you out cold.

Trudging your way over, you weakly called out. "Aaron, Spencer,"

the gun

Spencer knew he heard his name. He looked up from the blueprints of the building to see you, blood covering different parts of your body, your skin covered in debris and dust. You had limp, and your eyes were blown out. "Oh my god," he muttered, running over to you.

the gun

The genius took your in his arms as you fell into him, "How'd you get here?" you asked. "What's for dinner?"

Spencer took notice of your confusion as he allowed you to lean on him. He took your face in his hands, "Y/n, look at me. Focus on me,"

the gun

You couldn't directly look at him. Your eyes darted all over the place. "Where's Rossi? Did he go in?"

"No, Rossi's okay." Spencer leaned over his shoulder, "We need a medic!" He yelled, quickly turning his attention back to you. "It's okay, you're okay."

oh, yes

"I can't feel anything," you breathed out, "That can't be normal. Is that normal? Spencer, am I dying?"

oh, yes

Spencer shook his head, "You're okay, it's okay."

"I can't die," You softly whimpered. "I'm sorry, Spencer. 'M so mean to you, I don't mean to be."

Deep down, Spencer knew you meant what you were saying. The fear of dying without getting your true feelings out always lead to admissions of the truth. "I know, I know," Spencer smoothed your hair. "I don't hate you, I don't. You're going to be okay." Spencer slowly became anxious as he noticed the amount of blood seeping from your head. "Look at me, please, keep talking to me."

"'M sorry," You muttered, feeling your eyes grow heavy. Spencer's face began to fade as you collapsed in his arms.

Spencer felt his breathing grow heavy as he held you tightly. "Medic! She's-- oh, god, Help!"

they both reached for the gun.

A steady beeping was the first thing you heard as you woke up. The light was a blinding white, and you let out a groan at it. Your body hurt like hell, and your head was pounding.

"Shh, shh. It's okay, here, let me just--"

The white lights went out and all that was left was the stream of daylight coming through the windows, along with a lamp that was a warmer light. It was much more comfortable that way. You quickly guessed you were in a hospital. The beeping, white lights, smell of rubbing alcohol that you just identified.

"How do you feel?"

Spencer. You turned your head to look at him. His face held deep concern. He was holding your hand. "I--" You paused, considering his question. "I feel like shit."

He let out a soft chuckle, "Yeah. You kind of got exploded." That's right, the bomb.

"Oh, Will, the team, are they okay?" You softly asked.

Spencer nodded, "Everyone's okay, we got the unsubs. It's all okay now."

You remembered Spencer's words. You should have waited to go in. If you had waited, maybe you wouldn't be in this situation right now. "I should've listened to you." You stated weakly. "You were right. I was being stupid."

"Hey, no," Spencer quickly interrupted. "You were doing your job."

"I wasn't," you shook your head. "I wanted to prove myself. I-I wanted.. to show that I didn't just do victimology and simple hostage relief situations. I wanted to prove myself like you have." You stopped, sucking in a pained breath. You felt your eyes become glassy. "I wanted to prove to everyone I was just as good as you."

Spencer felt his heart break at your words. You both knew overall, he was smarter. It never occurred to him that your constant bickering was to prove yourself, and not to prove him wrong. "You're better." Spencer decided to say. "I mean, I can't relate to our victims, hell, our unsubs the way you can."

"Spencer,"

"I'm serious." He continued. "You're so important to this team. You-you push us to be better." Spencer cleared his throat, "You push me to be better."

You stared at Spencer blankly for a moment, "I never told you that I like this haircut."

Spencer gave you a slightly surprised look. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," You hummed. "It makes you look, I don't know, less like Einstein and more like, uh, a really smart James Dean."

"James Dean," Spencer repeated, "I've never gotten that one before. Are those meds talking right now?"

You shook your head slowly, "Probably the clearest I've thought in a while." You replied, causing Spencer to smile. "Why did you stay with me?"

Spencer paused for a moment, "I wanted to make sure you were okay. I know we bicker a lot. Well, more than a lot. Probably several times a day, but I still care about you. I-I was.. really scared for you. I don't think I could forgive myself if I let you walk in there and you'd died."

"It wouldn't have been your fault," You tried. Spencer just shook his head.

"It would have been. I should've rationalized it with you. When I saw you, I just thought, 'What have I been doing this whole time? Have I really been wasting my breath arguing with you when we could've made the best team'? I remember when Rossi first introduced you, I was like, 'No way someone this pretty is doing this', when you should've been some model or something." Spencer rambled. He did that, paired with hand fidgeting, when he was nervous. He rambled as he played with your fingers.

You took a breath in, hoping for the best. "Hey, maybe we could, uh, go to one of those team based trivia nights at O'Keefe's?"

"Are-are you asking me out?" Spencer asked.

"Only if you're saying yes." You responded. "I, uh, maybe thought we could start over."

Spencer gave a chuckle, "Yeah, trivia night sounds good. I'd like a retry at this. Maybe we're, uh, meant to be more than just a team."

You smiled at him, knowing that a simple friendship wouldn't be highest point of your new relationship with the genius.

[devosin]

— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! prologue : a series of unfortunate events . .

♡. Spotify playlist | Updates, every Friday !! — Vil Schoenheit x reader | Vil pov . .

Vil sighs, scrunching his eyes shut, which proved to be more difficult than it appeared with the mud mask that he applied over half an hour ago still on his face, currently drier than the gluten free bread he bought last week. He melted into his couch, feeling an overwhelming sense of boredom settle into his otherwise restless body. 

Before he knew it, he found himself mindlessly scrolling through Magicam, looking through the self proclaimed critique’s 30 to 60 second reviews on his new movie or the finale of some show he was in, for a hit of dopamine. Which clearly wasn’t working, as each video was the same thing washed over and over again repeated with new synonyms bundled together to sound authentic (Which it rarely was) and of course, there was those few criticisms here and there, nothing uncommon. 

Vil lays his head back, scrolling some more, “Influencer Tartaglia joins the new soon to debut boyband, D!CKZ—”, he shuts his phone and tosses it to the side carelessly . . Did he ever mention his distaste for influencers moving into the entertainment industry? . . It makes his blood boil, just a tiny bit, since most of the influencers tend to ruin it for a lot of genuinely talented and lesser known actors out there, not to mention they’re so-called talent is usually mediocre at best. 

And he could go on and list all the reasons why influencers do not deserve a spot in the spotlight with the elite, and they may all seem reasonable at first, but it’s a cover-up for the real reason.

He feels some weird sort of envy, towards those individuals who put in zero effort and somehow make it, and get all these big protagonist roles right away, and how they aren’t criticized for their faults or terrible acting skills, just because they have a huge built fanbase of delusional fangirls ready to defend them from the get-go. 

Or how they aren’t criticized when they look less than perfect on screen, although he appreciates that current age viewers can acknowledge that it’s only human to get acne or maybe a pimple here and there, he didn’t meet the same fate when he was younger . .  It just makes him feel bitter . . and he’d never speak those feelings into existence, but deep down he does feel a bit hurt by the shift, it sometimes makes him feel like all those previous breakdowns were for naught. 

Vil snaps out of his pity party for one, getting up and stretching, going into the bathroom to wash off the mask before it dries out his skin (It probably already has), burn-out has hit him hard, and as much as his love for acting runs-deep, he’d rather take a break before his audience starts noticing his shift in acting. 

Which is why he agreed to hosting the show in the first place, he wanted to switch up his career, for awhile at least, he’s taking a break from acting but doesn’t want to directly leave the industry, because it’s difficult to fit right back in place once you leave, as there's always someone who could come and steal your position, and maybe even do better . . that’s why this industry is so hard to survive in, and as pitiful as it sounds, he’s practically married to his work, he can’t exactly risk it, in peace. 

Vil dries his face with a towel and then moves to grab his moisturizer, when his work phone rings. 

“Hello, this is Amanda from Descendants. Inc. We talked before reguardinging ‘Late nights & Flashing lights’ . ” . . . “So, due to a multitude of reasons, we’re kind of in a time crunch to get the premiere launched, by the end of this month actually . . . but, we’ve received confirmation on who’ll be co-hosting with you, Y/n L/n!” 

“ . . . excuse me?” 

“This must be such a shock, but Y/n has actually been our top pick for this role, and the internet seems to really want to see the two of you on-screen together, considering your screen presence, I honestly think you two will be a perfect match for the show.”  

“I—”, Vil’s voice was hoarse as he tried to mentally wrap around all the information that was just dropped, “Ah—That’s time, we’re so excited to see you on set next week.” . . . “If you’d like, I could send you y/n’s number beforehand, so the two of you could talk things through?”, that seems to snap him back to reality, as the professionalism seeps right back into him, “That would be lovely, thank you.” 

The doorbell rings, informing Vil that his takeout that he ordered about two hours ago had finally arrived, but he didn’t feel like eating anymore.

Drinking is completely legal at 18-19 in my country, so I'm just putting that over here before someone tries fighting with me about it (This has happened before), also Vil is currently in his late 20's.

Don't expect everything to play off of Vil in-game, since this is placed like a decade into the future, so things will be changes and messed around with to fit the current age and setting more. <3

Profiles | Masterlist | Next chapter . .

— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! ♡. Synopsis : VIL SCHOENHEIT recently signed a contract under Descendant. Inc for his very own late night show, only to find out his co-star and fellow co-host is none other than Y/n L/n, someone he hates despite knowing very little about them and never having met them, previously. Y/N L/N, an actor who made their debut 3 years ago and hasn’t been able to catch a break since, recently decided to sign a deal with Descendants. Inc to host their new late night show “late nights & flashing lights”, as a break from acting . . Only to find out their favorite long-time actor will be co-hosting with them. Tune in every Friday, for a new episode of “late nights & flashing lights” to see if these two hosts can find a peaceful work-bond amidst their judgements . . and quite possibly even love? . .

♡. Want spoilers ?! . . Join my server . . !! (or for updates)

— taglist ♡ ; @well-look-at-this , @honkai-freak , @kingnem10 , @merviolet-asks , @katzline , @pebble-bb , @meigalaxy , @lordbugs , @crowbird , @yuus3n , @azriel-sama , @reivelmin , @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 , @eliza-be-t-h , @feverish-dove , @yejiswifex , @l0v3r666 , @cece-cherries , @frootloopscos , @abell2029cluster , @ephemii , @alienlatteinspace

♡ . Ask to be tagged... (If you don't see yourself up here, I cant tag you)

© devosin , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.

[discoursedumpster]

@puppypalice what do you think a Zionist is, though? Because this implies that there's some kind of Zionist organization or political party that people can join.

As far as I can tell, there are two different definitions people are using for "Zionist."

People who don't think Israel should be violently destroyed.

A specifically Jewish movement of people who love genocide in general, or genocide of Palestinians in particular.

But there's not an organization for either of those things.

You seem to be picturing the second definition? But like... what are they joining? The IDF?

I know they're not joining some evangelical megachurch that wants Israel to exist so that the End Times can come or whatever.

Because nobody is protesting those. They rarely even get mentioned.

I know they're not joining Hamas/PIJ/PFLP, despite the fact that Sinwar said he would fight until the last child in Gaza; despite Haniyeh demanding "the blood of Gaza's children, women, and elderly;" despite the fact that Gazans loathe Hamas for starting the war, routinely torturing and executing dissenters, and committing countless atrocities against them over the past 15 months.

Because at best, nobody gives a shit about Hamas. And at worst, they buy the propaganda that Hamas is "the Palestinian resistance." (Instead of the We Want To Live movement and the Gaza's Liberators movement.)

Are future historians going to be saying this about anyone who hates and opposes Hamas? Because that seems to be what usually gets Gazan activists, and Jews, denounced as Zionists.

If so, that now includes not only most of Gaza:

But also, the rest of Palestine:

That's from one of the co-organizers of the We Want To Live movement, who has twice been jailed and tortured by Hamas for organizing marches in Gaza.

He's only 24, and he's repeatedly put his life on the line for Gaza's freedom. And there is not one person in the pro-Palestine movement that will platform him, or anyone like him. Even Ahmed Fouad Alkhatib -- another Gazan activist, one who hates Israel significantly more than Howidy -- gets pre-emptively blocked.

Anyway, the context for the whole "they'll call them Zionists" thing was that the Hind Rajab Foundation filed 12 complaints against IDF soldiers.

Which does make it seem like that must be what everyone's going to be called Nazis for joining?

The Hind Rajab Foundation is chaired by a former Hezbollah member: Dyab Abou Jahah, a Belgian man from Lebanon who also:

founded a Holocaust denial group;

has repeatedly called for the violent destruction of Israel;

says Europe makes "the cult of the Holocaust and Jew-worshiping its alternative religion";

questioned the existence of the Nazi gas chambers;

and calls gay men “AIDS spreading faggots”...

...just to hit the highlights.

The article notes that there were no troops around when Hind Rajab was killed. Which is news to me, because I only learned about it on social media.

So basically, a guy who is at best a Nazi apologist started a group named after someone who wasn't killed by the IDF, but who he wants us to think was. And now that group is running "a campaign... to identify Israeli soldiers who have published videos to social media in which they commit, claim to have committed, or appear to endorse committing potential war crimes, and to file complaints against the soldiers on that basis."

@stoptheantisemitism blocked me after I said you can't just report people you assume must have committed a war crime. Because surely you can, since "they've posted themselves committing atrocities all over social media" or whatever.

But in fact, the article they posted literally says that the campaign includes people "who appear to endorse committing potential war crimes."

And no matter how despicable or disgusting that is, it's also absolutely fucking silly to be like, "Hey!! Sri Lanka!! SRI LANKA!! This guy who tweeted about wanting to burn Gaza City to the ground is in your country right now!!! Arrest him!!!!!!"

The fuck you want Sri Lanka to do about that??? He didn't commit a crime on their soil, and he's not a citizen of their country.

So I'm assuming you're talking about the IDF. But what's the point of saying that future historians will imply people were Nazis for joining the IDF even if they don't hate Palestinians? People are already calling them that today.

More to the point, it's not like there's a massive movement to move to Israel and get permission to join its military.

Is the point just to make sure we damn everyone in the IDF, whether they personally hate Palestinians or not, whether they were conscripted or not, etc?

Is the point just to call them Nazis?

Is the point to minimize the Nazis by deemphasizing what they did?

Because it seems important that Hitler not only industrialized mass murder and killed a peak of 500,000 people a month, but also:

declared a state of emergency,

seized dictatorial powers,

stripped Jews of their citizenship,

made relationships and sex with them illegal,

pressured white people to boycott all Jewish businesses,

and banned them from leaving the country without turning their property and money over to the Nazis,

none of which Israel has ever done to either the Palestinalsians, or its own Arab citizens.

like, I would assume that nobody is making a conscious attempt to minimize what the Nazis did. But it minimizes what they did either way.

[animeyanderelover]

Hello can I request a yandere jjk x angel reader.

Geto, Gojo, Yuta, Sukuna. Thank you!!!

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional tendencies, cligniness, paranoia, sadism, abduction, isolation, violence

Tags: @lovley-valentine7

Angel s/o

Ryomen Sukuna

🗾​This is no forbidden lovestory. No tragic fairytale of two people who aren't meant to be together. No, the only emotions brooding between the two of you are those of repulsion, disgust and, on only Sukuna's side, an attraction that only fuels the hateful obsession. He is the King of Curses, you are a being of pureness and protection. The two of you are supposed to be enemies, intertwined in an eternal fight until one of you falls through the hands of the other. Those emotions though, they shouldn't be there. He should loathe you, he does loathe you. So why does he experience those sensations whenever the two of you clash? This thrill pumping through his veins goes beyond the bloodthirst and sadistic ecstasy when fighting someone, beyond the fantasies of slashing and devouring. Other feelings co-exist within those carnal desires Sukuna is so familiar with and if he would be someone lesser he would accuse you of bewitching him. Only someone weak would fall for a cheap trick that were to influence their perceptions in such unfamiliar ways, twist them into something so pathetic. You only add salt to the wound within his ego as he is the only one suffering from such a disease.

🗾​A primal part of him longs to slash you into bloody pieces so that your body and face may never tempt him again. Far too merciful would that be though, not enough for Sukuna's heart yearning for revenge. He has suffered a great humiliation because of you, feelings of love and attraction that have weakened him and his resolve. You deserve something far worse than death. He will drag you into a pit of hellfire even deeper than his, will break you and shape you until you are even more pathetic than he is. You will be punished for the seeds of feelings you have planted within him. You will be captured, kept and tamed by him until you are too tainted to return to the holy place where you originated from. He is going to enjoy ruining you and weakening your resolve, to shatter you until you have no option but to stay with him. As soon as you are in the position where he wants you to be, you will be kept as his obedient pet. Your abilities are going to be of great use for his plans after all. It's affection that keeps him still chained to you, a bond that even he will be unable to sever. You will be his. Because if you aren't, then he will burn you alongside the world you have sworn to guard over.

Gojo Satoru

🩵​His appearance and his powers have always put Gojo closer to a being closer to a deity, at least in the eyes of some people. The power that emits from you is something that even non-sorcerers can sense though they do not sense what you are. Gojo with his Six Eyes instantly discerns that you are an existence that no sorcerer has ever encountered. A messenger of an even higher being that has graced earth for purposes unknown. Gojo proceeds with a healthy mixture of caution though as he believes those in power to be rarely innocent. Being close to you is a dizzying experience, the energy you emit strong enough to evoke reverence within an average person. Even Satoru is not entirely immune to those feelings yet he isn't swayed as easily as he remains wary when around you. Every word, every gesture, every flutter of your eyelashes is something that he observes closely as he tries to figure out your purpose for your ascendence to earth and its people. He fails to inform people of highest position of your existence though as he would only dread what they would do with that information. Maybe, just maybe, there is also a part within him that wants to keep this extraordinary experience to himself.

🩵​The rapid fluttering within his chest, the warm adoration pulsing through every fiber of his being, the weightlessness he experiences whenever his gaze falls upon you. Around you Satoru feels a safety and a comfort that only someone like you could provide him with. It initially scares him, the sensation of a heaven on earth something that has never been granted to him. Soon he gives in to everything though and that is when the clinginess and paranoia start. Both of you are from different worlds entirely as his life is but a short spark in comparison to your life of eternity. It is this knowledge that he is a being chained to time that torments him greatly. He doesn't wish you to move on, to forget him as the centuries pass. It is a selfishness of the highest degree, perhaps even blasphemous in the face of a holy creature like you. Gojo is only human though, riddled with flaws and an imperfection that someone like you could never possess nor understand. It is you who triggered those feelings within, you who made him this way. If you truly are what history hails you to be then stay and save him from his solitude. Do that or watch him fall victim to his dark side where he will only accept salvation from you.

Geto Suguru

🗻​How utterly ironic of the monk to be met with an otherwordly being as yourself. Geto is not overly welcoming, at least not anymore the moment you voice your own doubts about his vision. A cast of judgement from someone like you cuts deep, so much deeper than Suguru would have ever imagined. In his mind he does what will be best for his own kind, his opinion of non-sorcerers tainted in nothing but hatred. What you try to protect is a creation that is beyond saving. Just take a look around you after all and see what the barbaric feelings of those monkey give birth to. They are the reason curses exist, they are the reasons why his kind dies in an attempt to save their ignorant lives. But for what reward? If they were to find out about the powers the sorcerers possess they would revert back to witch hunts and fear. He has seen it. There is nothing worth protecting within the non-sorcerers. But he could create a paradise like it is written down in so many ancient works across the globe, a place where the hatred and judgement wouldn't exist anymore. His own belief clashes with your own passive one yet to him never before has approval mattered as much as it did with you.

🗻​Suguru obsesses over the fact that he wants your approval for his plans. His mind is set and nothing can stop him, not even you. He will execute his plans with or without your blessing yet he cannot stop himself from obsessing over it anyways. It is an unbearable burn within his heart to know that a literal angel like you are do not agree with him. He constantly seeks you out, tries to convince you to understand his greater vision. He even takes you with him to show you the pettiness of humans, to make you see that they are beyond saving and that a future only lies within sorcerers like him and all those who have joined his cause. The silent look you always give him though always threatens to tear him apart as you gaze at him like he is a lost child who needs saving. He doesn't need that though. He has discovered the light already and yearns for you to join his cause. If he were in possession of your approval, of your love, there would be nothing in his way anymore. If you refuse though, if the threat arrives that you may disappear, Suguru will do his everything to keep you bound to his side. He is no sinner, not at all. He has seen a different salvation, one he will have you understand.

Okkotsu Yuta

💍​He should stay alerted, he should stay cautious when he approaches a being so out of this world. However, your mere presence is enough to eradicate any hostility that he could have possibly harbored for you. His whole body forcibly relaxes as if put under a spell, the grip on his katana easing. A heavy gulp that has his Adam's apple moving before he slowly steps closer to you, each step filling him more with sensations of elation and joy of the likes that he has never experienced before. Rika seems to be slightly uncomfortable within your presence though, baring her sharp teeth and hovering over Yuta as if warning you to not try anything on him. Rika's presence seems to be something that elicits a reaction out of you just as much. For one short moment he dreads that you will exorcise her, won't like her due to being a Curse. To his relief you deem her to be a creature that can do more help than damage though, sparing him the horrible scenario where he would have to defend her against someone as magnificent as you. You are beautiful, a fact that Yuta can't deny. Every time he does as much as think of you he feels those butterflies erupting within his chest.

💍​Your presence is addicting, every touch of yours electrifying bliss and your appearance radiant, transcending the beauty that he has been familiar with so far. Your figure visits him in his dreams, your voice a call he can only answer. Yuta wishes to worship you, to go down on his knees and praise you for the holy being that you are. Someone like you is too pure for this earth though, a place crawling with curses and humans. He feels this unexplainable urge to slash all those who commit evil, to rid your path of such unsightly beings so that you may only experience the good. It is a thought that grows louder each and every day, becomes hard to reign and only quietens when he is with you as if your presence cleanses him from such inpure desires. Still, the urge never disappears and manifests itself every time he catches sight of an ugly curse or a human who you should not have to witness with your magnificent eyes. His own spiral into insanity is not something he is oblivious to and it threatens to pull Yuta down with shame. How can he protect you after all when he himself has such unholy thoughts about you? You should need protection from him.

[rotthepoet]

Need theo and lorenzo head cannons 😔

Good morning sweet pookie, i gotchu!! I needed a little break after that threesome so I did some random, some silly, some fluffy, and some smutty, kay? It’s really just a big brain dump on how I characterize the boys <3 Hope you enjoy, love ;)

P.s. if I have any reoccurring anon’s, if you want me to differentiate you, please feel free to assign yourself an emoji <3 unspoken rule i thought i’d say out loud

Theodore Nott

I agree with literally everyone on this app, he is a smarty pants, but i refuse to believe he sits down and studies

It’s not that he doesn’t care about his grades, he just doesn’t have to try to get good marks. Queen absorbs information like a sponge and retains that shit forever. Doesnt have to waste time with a boring textbook because he commits everything to memory.

That being said, he will remember everything about you. Your favorite movie you mentioned in passing, he saw you eat something particular multiple times he can infer its your favorite and will buy it for you often, he knows your habits, your aspirations, your desires. All of it. Does it for his close friends and lovers <3

Huge smoker. Like. Oral fixation final boss. Needs to have something to smoke or at least chew on at all times

I mentioned before how I think Mattheo and him laugh at people who vape, but Theodore Nott is a two faced LIAR and actually keeps a menthol alto with him at all times. For convenience sake. If you ask him, it’s different because its not a fun lil fruity flavor.

Speaking of Mattheo, those two are best friends. Like ride or die. Like. These two are bread and butter, inseparable and delicious.

Will internalize everything. This is why he gets so worked up and fights people. It may seem like him getting pissy over nothing, but this boy has some unresolved trauma and unmedicated issues.

Theo has ADHD prove me wrong and fuck you for trying(jk love you, but i will die on this hill.) severe anxiety issues, def some depression going on, hes working through some shit.

Theo can process a lot of stimulus at the same time. Watching him hold 3 steady conversations while reading a novel at the same time is a sight to behold.

Smokes weed a lot too. Mostly bud, but he’s smart and keeps a cart on him too for quick bathroom breaks when he needs to chill tf out. It slows down all the thoughts racing around his head. Lets him relax. Lets him feel peace. Let him feel comfortable. He’s been searching for that feeling his whole life.

Mommy and daddy issues check?

Anyways!

Theo is a player, and its not even because he tries to be.

Girls flock towards him, and he needs an outlet.

Sex is a good outlet.

Sex and drugs? Now we’re cooking

He doesn’t care much for the dating scene, didn’t think he was cut out for it. Bad home life. No mom. Depressed and emotionally distant evil dad. Friends and his family are all death eaters? Causes some bad views on relationships as a whole.

Omg but when he falls in love it takes forever but its so hard. Its so devastatingly hard.

It goes from “wow they really make me happy” to “omfg i need to marry them they make me feel complete and comfortable and it feels like i can finally be myself around someone this is the feeling i have been searching for my whole life” really fast when he falls

He’d never love at first sight. Refuse it. He might think someone is pretty or handsome, but he won’t ever describe it as love at first sight.

100% friends to lovers

He’s a quality time kinda guy i think

Just likes co-existing really

Stay in the room with him in silence as he reads and hes so golden

But that will bump up several notches and enjoy every other love language too

He wants to make you love him. He’ll do anything for you. Buy anything for you. Tell you everyday how wonderful you are

He’s being so genuine too

His friends would know

He never shuts up about you

If you had never spoken to his friends, never met them, they’d be able to come up to you in a grocery store and say “oh. You’re <you>, right?”

And dear god he genuinely cries a little in relief when you finally say yes

He’s buried his face in your hair and hugging you so tightly and he tries not to cry because he finally has everything he needs in his arms

He’s such a good boyfriend

Will never question you(at least not at first or without good reason)

Literally worships the ground you walk on

Will apologize first immediately after every meaningless petty fight

Thats different about real fighting though. Stubborn ass bitch

Anyways

Dotes on you everyday

Calls you so many sweet names in Italian

Has an Italian accent but sometimes tries a British accent to throw everyone off.

Argues in italian

Lowkey hates snow

Runs super cold so loves lovvesss hot weather

Will take you to Italy over the summer

Demands you go

Fucks you on the balcony of his family home

Fucks you stupid on the beach

Sorry where was I going with this

Ah yes anyways

Runs super cold so like is a big fan of cuddles. Lots of sweaters for you to steal

He likes turning cuddles into more slow and intimate things

Slowly fingering you as you spoon

Cockwarming in the morning or late at night<3

So much worship.

So much

Just adores you.

Loves fast rough sex but honestly could go on about slow love making for hours

Literally cant stand American reality tv

The biggest kardashian hater

Knows all the gossip because he’s quiet and listens

Doesnt care to share it though

Lorenzo Berkshire

Bitchboy extraordinaire

If I met Lorenzo Berkshire he would become #1 on my shitlist so fast

I called theo a two faced liar as a joke

But Enzo actually is one

Literally puts on the nicest mask for pretty girls, but every ex, and every guy in hogwarts knows he’s a conniving bitch behind closed doors

One of the richest in the group and it shows

Flaunts his money everywhere he goes

His ears are pieced

Also he likes having his ears bitten it can make him hard as a rock in seconds

Dates, but it usually only lasts a month and Hes the worst boyfriend ever

Dumps them whenever he gets bored

But omg when a person gives him his attitude back

Well first he gets even meaner

But also he likes you so much like… that was hot

And if you ignore his existence? On you like a moth to a flame

Craves attention

Such an attention seeker

Still will fight, isn’t very good, but will try

100% a prefect

Showers his pookie with so much love and attention

When he finally gets the person he wants, hes on top of them 24/7

Never a hand straying to far

Literally obsessed

Big fan of exhibitionism

Will fuck uou on the train, the bathrooms, the common room, the classroom

Its all fair game

Would love to see you all tied up in pretty ribbons for his birthday

Ass man 100%

Likes to just get a fistfull while you hug or cuddle

Mattheo and him are the biggest gossipers

Has like 4k followers on instagram because hes so pretty

Father and mother are hirh death eaters. Does anyone know Berkshire lore because i def dont

Like fr can someone explain him to me

Pairs well with anyone in the grouo, really

Gets along especially with Theo or Mattheo

Amazing at card games, and says he’s amazing at chess too. Hes not.

Literally refuses to snack, says it’ll ruin his physique

On the quidditch team much like everyone else he’s friends with

Slays at herbology

Maybe a bit of a smoker? Not often, and def more weed than tobacco

Light weight for reals

Like severely light weight

He’s the laughingstock of the friend group for it

Him and Mattheo have a running bet on who can fuck the most women

Omg omg omg because they so do the alphabet challenge im so sorry but its factual

Lorenzo is currently winning with 15/26 letters in the alphabet but Mattheo isnt too far behind

Its because Lorenzo is so charming and Mattheo…. Is himself.

Anyways back to being his significant other

Will spoil you

Relentlessly

Lowkey expects head in return but that will wear ofd eventually

109% more likely to start a fwb situation than anything else

Treats you like a girlfriend this whole time

Kisses you sweetly, holds uou close when you sleep, mumbles about how special you are

Just being a girlfriend without the title because then it gets too weird

Loses his shit if you get tired of trying and break it off

Genuinely ballistic if he loses you

Will pull as many favors and as many strings as he can to get yiu back

Seriously considers murder for a while

Anyways he gets you back baby<3

Speaking of babies hes super good with kids

Look at that face

Amazing dad face

Scared of marriage lmao

Bad parents. Fucked up views on relationships

Its a thing for all of them tbh

[mellowwillowy]

Yan! Boyfriend x GN Reader

—𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 - 𝑳𝑰𝒇𝑬 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 , NSFW

Yan! Boyfriend who you thought to be a golden retriever only to have him turn into a Doberman the moment you are away from him.

Yan! Boyfriend who is the "all 5 love language combo" for you and you only!

Act of service? Fun, especially when his head is buried into your crotch. That aside, yes he does all those sweet ass stuffs. Anything you think of, he has done it, even to the very most downbad shit you could think of.

Physical touch? PDA if you are into that, else either a hand around your thigh, squeezing them with love or shit ton of pecks.

Words of affection? 'My love looks so gorgeous as usual! What a refined beauty my love is, no wonder I can't stop falling head over heels for you!' And you were on the bed with bad hair, drooling on your pillow.

Gifting? How many gifts have you received today from him? Starting from something little to something large? The most surprising would be him coming home with a pet for you.

"Ta-daaa! You've been saying you want a pet so I think you will like this!"

Quality time? Not a problem for him. He has a lot of time for you. Hm? Work? Better not question him further about it. All that matters is that it's enough to give the two of you more than enough, even allowing the two of you to laze around. (Unlike Yan! Lawyer Husband and Yan! Antagonist who barely has any time for darling pfft-)

Yan! Boyfriend who is practically on his knees like a dog waiting for his treat when you are about to do something ✨️ r o m a n t i c a l ✨️ on him. Say who's a good boy and you could have sworn you saw his non-existent tail wagging excitedly.

"Who's a good boy hm? Who's a gooood boy??"

"Me! Blue! Blue is a good boy!"

Well, at least he is now because he wasn't when you first met him. He's changed a lot just for you, didn't want to disappoint you the next time you see him.

Yan! Boyfriend is the guy who you can really depend on for everything. Financially? Yes. Wanna beat the fuck out of someone? Call him and that person will have a taste of all the martial arts he has learned back then, not to mention he was quite the delinquent back then. Mentally? Yes. He's always there for you, either making it worse or better.

Yan! Boyfriend who likes to show you off to his friends and co-workers so much as though you are his prized possession. The hand that never leaves your waist and the dagger he shot at the people who stared at you for a bit too long are threatening enough to scare them away. Will definitely have a separate chat with them later,

"The fuck you are looking at my love for hm?"

Ignore how their nose is red and bleeding okay? If only Blue was able to do more, he would have had his fist buried into their face even more and harder like in the good ol' days. Has no choice but to be good else someone might rat to you about his behavior again.

Yan! Boyfriend who really likes to sleep on your lap, being able to feel you this close just makes him feel all giddy like a teenager in love. Would litter kisses and licks if you are not wearing anything that covers your thighs.

Yan! Boyfriend who will almost have the same taste in music as yours because he's just like that. Sucking in everything about you and ends up liking it.

Yan! Boyfriend who will vibe with you nonstop. If you are the crack type person, he will just be as crack as you, making people think whether the two of you are high in crack or not. Will always make you feel like it's okay to do anything you want without having to be embarrassed. Too shy to sing? Well, watch him scream his lungs out (Lemon and Grape chilling with ear muffs) and his hand motioning you tag along.

"BABY WON'T YOU LOOOOVEEE MEEEE"

"What do you say we gag him up with the mic?"

"Great, I'll hold him by the neck."

Yan! Boyfriend who really loves watching you sleep. No, he's not a somnophilic bastard like Yulian. He just adores seeing you resting so peacefully. (while Eleanor panicking over darling sleeping)

Yan! Boyfriend who enjoys cooking breakfast for you. You'll wake up greeted with him standing by the kitchen or sitting by the dining table waiting for you to wake up. Hm? If the food has gone cold because you woke up late, he'll just reheat it. Nothing biggie so no need to feel bad about it ^^

Yan! Boyfriend who is always keeping his mental state in check just in case it cracks open the ugly side of him again. He's embarrassed of it yet he is grateful for it because it brought the two of you to meet. Just staying next to you is enough to keep him sane so try not to stray too far from him okay? He might really snap again and the place you once called home might be nothing but ruins.

"Love you... dear."

Yan! Boyfriend who hates being away from you! If his work suddenly requires him to be somewhere away from you, he will bring you along with him! (I might make a chart of the difference for all the LIfE Pro casts)

"Almost feels like a vacation eh? Let's visit this place once I'm done with work love!"

Although he always brings you along, there are times when he'll have to leave you with Lemon or Grape, either asking them to stay with you or you stay over their place.

"Try not to dent his sport car again yeah? He was yapping at me for hours ahaha! I will ask Grape to watch over you as well, she'll do well as your nanny. Hm? Not a little kid anymore? Oh no no, better be safe than sorry. Don't want those nasty ghosts keeping you awake during the night yeah?"

Afternote:

Blue is my second favorite! Yulian has always been the first so no one sees Blue that much... he's just so sweet... although the story he shares with Eleanor tangles everything up...

[always-just-red]

Hello! Y'know that one line of Sylus talking about his muscles saying "They're not real. But they move." The way he casually admits to not being entirely human

Could I request something angsty where Sylus has an uncanny valley aura about him where you just FELL something's not right and Sylus is all :( cause he can't make the MC feel comfortable around him but it's not like he can fix it either

Just a quick little fic for this whilst I work on a longer fic! Realised like two paragraphs in that I had the opportunity to do the most evil thing ever, so I did!! 😇 I'm really proud of this one guys pls show it some love! And thanks for the prompt, anon! You are my co-conspirator in all this evilness, mwa ha ha DISCLAIMER: This work does not reflect the feelings of the author, who would die for Sylus! Wants to hold Sylus's face in her hands and tell him he is everything good and pure in this dark, cynical chess game we call life! 😎✨

Monster

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: A Deepspace Hunter's instincts never lie...

Genre: angst oh my GOSH so much angst

Warnings/Additional tags: f!reader, AU I guess as this is a different spin on an existing scene, *passes you some tissues* here you might need these! 🥰

| Word count: 800 | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

You know monsters.

Earth-shattering. Sky-shearing. Teeth, reckless: always striving for something soft to sink into. To make a home in and to eviscerate. You’ve been grazed by it— kissed by that violence more times than you can count— and you are not soft anymore; there isn’t space for it. There are scars and then there’s armour, the kind you carry with you, the kind you couldn’t shed if you tried, and you haven’t tried, because why would you?

Horror isn’t loud and cataclysmic, it’s quiet. It’s those few seconds before your Hunter’s watch signals a fluctuation of Metaflux. A premonition, trained, or maybe just human instinct, raw and vulnerable: something is wrong, here. That prickle on your skin— the tip of that claw, raked, snaked down your spine. You feel it whenever a Wanderer lurks in the shadows, or beneath a stretch of water that’s unfathomably deep and far, far too still.

Sometimes, you feel it when you look at Sylus.

I know monsters.

Before you, a fragment of a mural tells a very old story, and beside you, a red-eyed man is thinking of flowers. It’s late, and the museum is quiet. You look at the fragment’s centre, where a female warrior is plunging a blade through a dragon’s heart. “Look,” you say, nodding at the figure with a half-smile. “My predecessor.”

Sylus hums thoughtfully. “What makes you say that?”

“Because that looks like a standard Tuesday to me. Some things never change, huh?”

But other things do. With a chuckle, Sylus draws closer to you. The rumble of his laughter is warm and familiar, and his hand is near yours as he bends to examine the mural. He wants you to take it, to thread your fingers through his like you do when you resonate, when you need his power and he needs yours, except neither of you need it now. Why, then?

You know. Of course you know.

The man is all softness, voice and gaze like an afternoon sun in late summer that lulls you to sleep with thick, golden light. Always trying to evoke a dream. It’s weakness, it’s the dragon on the mural with a split heart, bleeding, and you’ll never understand why Sylus wears his on his sleeve.

It’ll be the death of him, one day. It’s set in stone. Right here.

When Sylus touches you— when the tip of his finger catches yours and makes an honest, desperate request— you don’t pull away. Something inside tugs at you, warns you, tells you a monster without a sword in its chest is one that can bite. What colour of blood would your hands prefer? His? Your own?

Your veins are cold and something is wrong, but no, you don’t pull away, because Sylus knows monsters too. Some declare themselves with twisted horns, razorlike wings and a long, barbed tail. Others declare themselves with something as subtle as a touch, withdrawn.

When Sylus steps away from you, that gash of dread closes up inside you. Heals like his wounds: no mess, no scar, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

He’s had a long time to look at the mural, and he smiles wistfully at the woman at its centre. “Some things never change,” he echoes, and it sounds as though there’s blood in his lungs, his throat, and that he has to swallow it down to say anything at all. It must sting.

“All in a day’s work for a Deepspace Hunter,” you joke flatly. You’re not even sure Sylus hears it.

Both of you stare at your fragment of history: an execution, a liberation. A matter of perspective. “Maybe…” Sylus begins, but then thinks better of it.

“Maybe what?”

He’s seeing something you don’t.

“Maybe what, Sylus?”

He spares you a glance. “The pose,” he says, indicating the warrior. “It’s ambiguous. Perhaps she isn’t slaying the beast, she could be—”

“Saving it?”

You’re considering a new perspective. Tapping a finger against your cheek as you lock eyes with your history— that elusive dream— ever oblivious to what’s behind you:

There’s a look of sheer, infinite longing— a gaze that’s been empty of you for too long, so sick of starvation, and determined to have its fill in the few, fleeting moments it can. It’s ravenous: dangerous, sharp, and irrevocably yours, if you would only turn around.

There are teeth and claws, but they’re all of them tame, and that makes them soft, doesn’t it? You could trust them on your skin. Turn around.

You do, and you are not the girl from the mural who tucked wildflowers into his hair and who sung him a song he still hears in his sleep. Sylus’s heart aches.

You are the girl from the mural who’s slaying a dragon, because it’s the oldest story, the only story.

Your eyes harden.

“Who would pull out a sword to save a monster?”

[kkanabel]

co-pilot mischief ✫ soaked & see-thru ✫ chapter dos

captain curly x teasing!reader

it’s been a month since your epiphany that Captain Curly has a sweet little crush on you, and you’ve been teasing him the entire time. what happens when you push him even closer to the edge?

directory/m.list ⇦ previous chapter - next chapter ⇨

words: ~3.1k

t/w: STRONG sexual references but no actual yucky (yet), so imma say this is rated mature, reader being lowkey sadistic, cute curly <3, gn!reader/pronouns but reader wears a bra, mentions of curly's mayo slinger , depiction/description of nipples, (service?)dom!curly

a/n: hi. been obsessed with this video game recently—well, especially with Curly (go figure. i like fictional men). i needed to make something self-indulgent bc i just like this man way too much. and because i just want to make a world where none of them have to suffer. enjoy~ 

~janana does not exist in this world~

Planned Shipment Duration: 382 Days Elapsed Transit Time: 322 Days

It’s been a month since your epiphany that Captain Curly has a sweet little crush on you.

Once you realized it, there was no going back. Since then, you’ve made it your personal mission to tease him, dangling his attraction above his head like a packet of sweetener just out of reach. At first, you thought he’d crack quickly—his stammering, red ears, and darting eyes gave you plenty of hope—but it turns out he’s much harder to break than you expected.

Curly’s resolve, it seems, is made of iron—or at least something close to it. He holds tightly to his professionalism, though you can tell it’s a battle for him. He does his best to pretend nothing’s happening, no matter how blatantly you flirt or how often your hand "accidentally" brushes against his when passing tools or rations.

The moments he falters, though? Those are pure gold.

Like when you "forgot" to zip up your jumpsuit all the way, the collar slipping low enough to reveal the delicate lace of your bralette and the beginnings of cleavage. You’d leaned over the cockpit console, close enough to invade his personal space, pointing at a diagnostic screen that didn’t really need his attention.

“Captain,” you’d said sweetly, tilting your head just enough to let your hair brush against his arm. “Do you think this reading looks a little off? Or is it just me?”

Curly froze, his broad shoulders stiffening as if you’d just launched a torpedo into the ship. His eyes darted to the screen, then to you, then back to the screen again, avoiding your neckline like it might blind him.

“I... uh, it looks fine to me,” he muttered, clearing his throat. His voice was strained, low, like he was barely keeping himself together.

You watched, delighted, as his ears turned bright red.

And that wasn’t the only time. Every brush of your hand against his, every teasing glance, every accidental bump into him in the narrow halls of the ship sent little tremors through his carefully maintained composure. Once, when you deliberately lingered at his side during a crew meeting, your shoulder grazing his arm as you leaned against him, he shifted uncomfortably, his jaw tightening. You didn’t miss the way his hand flexed at his side, like he wanted to move but couldn’t.

It was adorable, really, how he tried so hard to maintain control. His lips would press into a thin line, his eyes locking onto anything but you, but the faint blush crawling up his neck always gave him away.

You couldn’t stop yourself from indulging in the little thrill of it. His reactions, subtle as they sometimes were, made your heart flutter in ways you didn’t entirely expect. It wasn’t just the fun of teasing him—it was the way he looked at you when he thought you wouldn’t notice. That mix of yearning and restraint, like he wanted so badly to reach out but knew he couldn’t. It was intoxicating.

One evening, you decided to push him a little further.

The ship’s artificial lights cast a soft glow over the cockpit as the two of you worked on a recalibration for the nav system. You’d been at it for hours, but you didn’t feel tired—not when you had Curly as your company.

As he bent over the console, his strong hands deftly adjusting the inputs, you let your eyes wander over him. The curve of his shoulders, the faint stubble on his jaw, the way a lock of his blonde hair fell across his forehead... it was all so unfairly attractive.

“Hey, Captain,” you said, your voice light and teasing.

He glanced at you briefly, a suspicious flicker in his blue eyes. “What is it?”

“You’ve been working so hard lately,” you cooed, stepping closer. “Don’t you think you deserve a little break?”

He straightened, standing to his full height, which only made you want to tease him more. “We’re on duty,” he said, his tone firm, though his nervous countenance betrayed him. “No time for breaks.”

You tilted your head, letting your lips curve into a mischievous smile. “Not even for me?”

His jaw tightened, and he exhaled through his nose. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

You held in a laugh in favor of feigning innocence, widening your eyes. “Enjoying what?”

“This.” He gestured vaguely between the two of you, his hand hovering in the air before dropping to his side. His blue eyes were filled with an unreadable emotion. “Whatever game you’re playing.”

You pressed a hand to your chest, mock-offended. “Game? I’m just trying to help my captain relax. Is that so wrong?”

His gaze flickered to your hand, then back to your face. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, he closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath like he was trying to steady himself. There was trouble written all over his handsome face.

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you added sweetly, grazing past him to grab a tablet from the console. Your chest brushed against his arm, and you swore you heard him mutter something under his breath—something that sounded suspiciously like your name.

You walked away, hiding your smile behind the tablet. This was too much fun.

But as you glanced back at him, catching the way he ran a hand through his blonde hair in frustration, your heart gave a little flutter. Maybe you were having fun teasing him into madness, but you couldn’t deny that part of you that wanted him to finally snap—wanted to see what would happen when that carefully constructed professionalism finally broke.

A couple of days later, you woke up an hour too early. The mistake had been drinking coffee with Curly too late into the evening. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, a casual moment of camaraderie with the captain, but now you were left wide-eyed in the dark, staring at the ceiling of your cabin.

Giving up on the idea of returning to sleep, you decided to make the most of the situation. Slipping out of bed, you grabbed a water sachet and padded down the quiet halls toward the cockpit, still dressed in your pajamas—just a white T-shirt and the shortest of pajama shorts.

Usually, for the sake of decency, you’d slip on a bralette under the shirt during film nights or crew gatherings. The last thing you wanted was to flash someone like Daisuke or Swansea and scar them for life. But now, in the stillness of the ship’s early hours, you felt a little more emboldened. Besides, you couldn’t help but think about how Curly might react.

You’d caught him looking before, though he tried so hard to hide it. When you wore an extra tank top you found in the cockpit locker (It was Curly’s, and it was at least a size too big), exposing just a hint more skin—shoulders and the teasing curve of the side of your chest through the arm holes that were too big, his face turned a violent shade of red, and he’d buried himself in a book—upside down. The memory still made you grin. His excuse about following “Pony Express directives” to “practice” reading things from unconventional angles was laughable, yet endearing in how desperately he tried to cling to professionalism.

Though ever since then, he’s found it difficult to meet your eyes or even glance at you.

Tonight, the shirt’s white fabric was a little more thin than you usually dared, and you knew it fell off the peaks and curves off your body in just the right way. The thought made your pulse quicken, imagining how Curly would react—if he was going to refuse to look at you, you were going to find a way to force him to.

As you approached the cockpit, the faint hum of the ship’s systems buzzed softly, and the doorway glowed faintly with the green and white lights of the control panels. Curly was there, of course, hunched over one of the consoles. His wavy blonde hair caught the artificial light, strands tousled as though he’d run his fingers through them in frustration.

From the doorway, you took a moment to admire him. He was all rugged edges and quiet strength, his broad shoulders casting a silhouette that almost filled the chair he sat in. His stubbled jaw was set in concentration, the faint shadows of fatigue underlining his blue eyes as they flicked between readouts. Even in moments like this, when he wasn’t putting on his usual air of command, he radiated a certain kind of allure.

Curly’s mind was a storm. He hated this—how easily you unraveled him, how effortlessly you bypassed every wall of professionalism he’d built over the years. It wasn’t just the shirt or the skin it revealed—it was you. The way you moved, the way you smiled at him like you knew exactly what you were doing.

And even then, he felt guilty. Deeply, horribly guilty.

This wasn’t how a captain should think about his crew—especially not about you. He couldn’t stop his mind from straying. He admired your sharp wit, respected your skills, and relied on you more than he cared to admit. You weren’t just capable; you were remarkable.

And that was the problem. Because the more he admired you, the harder it was to ignore the way his thoughts veered into forbidden territory. And tonight, when you stepped into the room, bleary-eyed and relaxed in your white t-shirt, his heart had nearly stuttered to a stop. 

“Captain,” you called softly, leaning against the doorway.

His head snapped up, eyes widening slightly before he schooled his expression into something more neutral. “You’re up early,” he said, his voice low and gravelly from disuse, quickly flicking his eyes away from you and towards the ship’s monitors, a habit he’s developed recently.

“Curly?” You said again, waiting until his eyes finally met yours. You stepped inside, deliberately slow, letting him take in your appearance. His gaze darted to you briefly—just a flicker—but his lips pressed into a thin line, and he immediately focused back on the console.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you said, shrugging as you approached him. “Thought I’d keep you company.”

He cleared his throat. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Oh,” You frowned, “but I wanted to.” You leaned over the console, pretending to inspect one of the readings. The motion caused the shirt to shift ever so slightly, revealing the crux of your neck and the faint outline of your collarbone.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him freeze. His strong hands, usually so sure as they worked the controls, stilled. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, and a faint pink began to creep up his neck to his ears. “I—uh…” He faltered, his words caught in his throat. “It’s not much to look at,” he managed, gesturing vaguely to the display.

You glanced at him, catching the way his blue eyes flicked nervously to yours before darting away again. His jaw clenched, the stubble along his chin shifting with the movement, and you noticed the way his broad shoulders seemed to tense as though he were bracing himself.

His hands betrayed him, gripping the edge of the console as though it were the only thing anchoring him.

The curves of your chest moved freely with each step you took. The material was thin, revealing your shadowy valleys. The shirt cupped them like a gentle hand, and the peaks of your nipples pushed against the fabric. 

He scolded himself silently, jaw tightening. How could he let his thoughts wander like this? It was unprofessional, inappropriate, and downright wrong. You were younger than him, his crewmate, his second-in-command—he was your boss! And still, despite all the reasons he gave himself to stop, he couldn’t help but notice the way the fabric of your shirt caught the light as he cursed himself for having these thoughts while being your superior.

He noticed too much—the curve of your lips when you smiled, the sway of your hair when you moved, the way your presence filled the cockpit and left him fighting for composure. 

You’d casually stepped into the cockpit, rubbing your eyes and clutching a water sachet, (trying to look) completely unaware of the chaos you were stirring. The ship’s dim lighting hummed softly around you as you took in the familiar sight of Curly, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as he focused on the console in front of him.

Your gaze drifted for a moment, taking in the quiet stillness of the cockpit. You liked moments like this—when the ship felt like it was holding its breath, everything running smoothly. Your eyes quickly darted back at the ship’s monitors, looking for anomalies. But your attention quickly shifted back to Curly, and concern tugged at the edges of your thoughts.

The dark shadows under his eyes and the faint redness around them told you he hadn’t gotten much sleep. His posture was rigid, shoulders tense even in stillness, and you found yourself frowning slightly.

“Curly,” you said softly, your voice breaking the silence. He turned his head just enough to acknowledge you, his blue eyes weary but alert. “When was the last time you stood up to take a stretch?” you asked, tilting your head in gentle inquiry.

His brow furrowed, and he let out a quiet sigh. “I’m fine,” he replied, though his tone lacked conviction.

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Captain,” you said with mock sternness, “don’t make me log a report about your poor self-care habits.”

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face before reluctantly pushing himself to his feet. “Fine,” he muttered, his voice gruff.

You stepped back, giving him space while pretending to busy yourself with your water sachet. In truth, you were staring as he stretched. His arms reached overhead, his broad shoulders and defined muscles shifting beneath his Pony Express t-shirt that was too tight in many places. You let your gaze linger for a moment, appreciating the sharp line of his jaw and the way his stubble caught the faint light and the upper half of the coveralls that were hanging casually at his hips.

But you weren’t entirely selfless. As he finished, you casually lifted your arms to stretch as well, arching your back just enough to emphasize the thin fabric of your shirt. You didn’t dare glance at him directly, but you were sure he noticed. You could almost feel the tension in the air shift, his silence betraying his discomfort—or was it something else?

Then, as you reached for your water sachet, the corner of your hand snagged it, tipping it forward and sending a stream of cool liquid splashing onto both of you.

“Oh no!” you gasped, stepping back in shock as the water soaked into your shirt and splattered onto Curly’s lower torso.

“I—I’m so sorry!” you stammered, grabbing for the stack of napkins you always kept nearby for emergencies. “I didn’t mean to—hold on, let me—”

Holding the napkins, you stepped closer and began dabbing at his shirt, focusing on the damp fabric clinging to his lower torso. His breath hitched when your fingers brushed against him, and his hands twitched at his sides as if he didn’t know what to do with them. His breathing had grown shallow, his eyes darting anywhere but at you.

“It’s fine,” he muttered, though his voice was strained. 

But you were too focused on drying him off to notice the growing tension in his body. His shirt clung to his lower torso, outlining the solid planes of muscle beneath, and you worked methodically, your brows furrowed in genuine apology as you dabbed the napkins all over his lower stomach and upper thighs.

“I’m such an idiot,” you muttered under your breath, shaking your head. “I don’t even know how I…” you murmured, your voice frantic as you continued your drying. The napkins glided over his shirt, and though your touch was light and innocent, the intimacy of it was anything but. His stomach muscles tensed under your hand, and you felt a pang of guilt for causing the situation.

“Y-you don’t have to—”

“But I do!” you cut him off, leaning in just a bit closer. “I made the mess, so it’s only fair I fix it.”

His breathing grew heavier, though he was trying his best to keep it steady. His gaze flicked toward the damp, clinging fabric of your shirt again, and his cheeks burned even brighter. Your napkin drying eventually ended on his upper thigh—you’d dabbed that place a couple of times already, but this time, you noticed that it was… bulging. And hard. 

And massive.

Then you noticed something else.

The air around you suddenly felt charged, and when you glanced down, your face lit up in horror. Your wet shirt was clinging to your chest like a second skin, the thin white fabric leaving very little to the imagination and turning almost entirely transparent. Splotches of color from your areolas were clearly visible under the fabric.

“Oh my-,” you whispered, your cheeks burning as you instinctively crossed your arms over yourself.

Curly’s gaze darted to you for a fraction of a second before he whipped his head away, his face flushing a deep crimson. He instantly peels off his t-shirt and places it over your head to cover you. If he gets just one more look at you exposed, he’ll-

“Thanks, Curly.” You say, relieved. 

He looks down and sees your nipples still poking through the two layers of fabric, and he lets in a sharp breath before he tears his eyes away from you. You hold back an amused chuckle from what just went down, and you sigh wistfully as you take in his shirtless form.

“Darn,” you said finally, straightening and tossing the used napkins into the trash. “I guess this means you need to go take a shower and change into dry pajamas. Maybe even get some sleep while you’re at it. I’ll take care of things here in the meantime.”

He blinked at you, looking dazed and overwhelmed, his lips parting as if to protest, but no words came out. How could you have bounced back so quickly?

You smiled sweetly, your tone light and teasing as you gestured toward the exit. “Go on, Captain. That’s an order.”

For a moment, he just stood there, his jaw working as though he wanted to say something. But then he gave a sharp nod, his eyes avoiding yours as he muttered a gruff, “Fine,” before turning and leaving the cockpit.

As the door slid shut behind him, you let out a soft chuckle, enjoying the scent of his t-shirt (albeit wet) wrapped around you. You try to ignore the heat that builds up in your stomach when you think about him, in the shower, taking care of his “little” problem, wrapping his hand around himself with a groan.

a/n: let me know what y'all think!

oh yeah.. smut.. tomorrow…?

taglist is open! lmk if you want to be on the taglist for just curly/mouthwashing characters or if you want the news on alll my fics… also might be accepting requests hehe! i can’t guarantee that i can do em, but i’ll accept ideas!

btw. not beta read, please let me know if there are any typos or inconsistencies stay safe & hydrated as always!

(and go to sleep if you’re reading this super late. don’t be a curly. take care of yourself!)

thanks for reading! <3

crossposted on ao3

directory/m.list ⇦ previous chapter - next chapter ⇨

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - sex doll au, implied dub/con, unhealthy relationships, possessive behavior, and generally depraved behavior.

You're starting to wonder if you should've gotten a different pair.

You knew what you were getting into when you decided that, of all the androids in Teyvat's stock, you were going to be one of the few brave souls that dared to put two members of the Akademiya Collection that weren't Tighnari and Cyno under the same roof. The salesperson had cringed as you made your selection, your more tech-savvy friends pursed their lips and asked if that was really for the best, and you couldn't mention your specific preferences on any public message board without being berated off the platform entirely. You didn't care, thought. The heart wants what it wants, and apparently, your heart wanted two burnt-out post-grads to rail you into next week.

That's what you told yourself until you got Alhaitham and Kaveh home, at least.

The bickering, you were prepared for. You weren't surprised by the constant passive-aggression, the subtle pokes at Alhaitham's arrogance and Kaveh's bleeding heart, and you managed to stomach it the first time your dreams of a multi-major threesome were dashed because Kaveh mentioned some ancient philosophical principle and Alhaitham couldn't resist the opportunity to correct his wording and you were left bouncing yourself on Alhaitham's cock while he dispassionately flipped through a textbook you haven't opened since you were an under-grad. Minor hiccups, nothing you couldn't forget about when Kaveh buried his face between your thighs or Alhaitham split you open on his fingers while reading your latest research paper aloud, denying you an orgasm for every grammatical error. That part, you wouldn't trade for the world.

The jealousy, though - you could live without that. You've heard that there's supposed to be fail-safes for this kind of thing, measures the developers take to make sure any companion droids can co-exist without tearing each other apart, but their mutual distaste seems strong enough to overwhelm whatever barriers their creators put in place. You've lost count of the number of times there's been a false-alarm in some other part of your apartment while you're on your knees at Alhaitham's feet, how many times Alhaitham's flawless hardware has suddenly 'malfunctioned' while Kaveh has your ankles propped on his shoulders.

Not getting laid, you can deal with, but it's a little hard to be so forgiving when Kaveh spends the better half a day pouting because you took Alhaitham to work and left him at home, when Alhaitham deletes your registered commands from his memory bank because you had the nerve to take Kaveh to a farmer's market that that he'd rather die than step foot in. You've tried to be fair, to divide your time evenly, but they're not happy with that, either. Neither of them would ever say it out loud, but it's clear enough that they both want to be the center of your attention. It'd be cute, if they weren't so spiteful.

The only thing worse than their jealousy is when they put aside their spitefulness, their petty arguments, and decide to agree on the only thing they can ever agree on: that their beloved 'master' should be the one to make up for all those hours of neglect. It's a little like your fantasies, but not quite; your chest pressed against Alhaitham's Kaveh's chin resting on your shoulder, the former inside of you while the latter whispers sweet-nothings against the curve of your throat. It's more violent than anything you ever would've expected from two men so scholarly, more aggressive - teeth buried in your skin, bruises in the shape of their palm painted across your thighs, fingers forcing their way past your lips whenever you so much as consider using your safe-word. You're left strung-out for hours after they're done with you, and Kaveh's free to press himself against your side while Alhaitham tries to pass himself off as the caretaker he so clearly isn't. It's the only time they don't waste their breath on bickering. It's the only time they ever get along.

It's the only time you don't have the strength to focus on anything but your two precious, precious androids.

[cwritesforfun]

Hi!!

So, I'm so desperate for a Emma D'arcy x Fem Reader fic!!

Pleeeasee

Ok here you go: hope you enjoy!!!

Emma D'Arcy x Fem!Reader: Co-Workers or Something More? (Request)

Y/N = Your Name using She/Her/Hers pronouns Emma's pronouns are They/Them ** I do not own any House of Dragon plot points briefly mentioned

Y/N's POV

Getting the role of Alicent on House of Dragon was nerve-wracking. You were a huge fan of Game of Thrones and even read all the released books. You've been working for years towards getting a role in any TV show or movie. You have been in some indie films and when you got the call to be Alicent, you thought you were dreaming. It was amazing. It was probably one of your favorite days to ever exist.

At the table read for the first season, you were pouring a cup of coffee for yourself when you heard, "So you're playing Alicent?" You turn and see someone beautiful staring at you. You felt lost in their soft blue eyes for years if you could. You instead say, "Yes I am, my name is Y/N. Nice to meet you, what's your name?" The person standing opposite you says, "It's lovely to meet you, Y/N. Y/N is such a beautiful name. I'm Emma D'Arcy and I'm playing Rhaenyra." You reply, "Emma is a beautiful name for a beautiful person. Rhaenyra is a Targaryen, so I am jealous." Emma lets out a laugh and says, "I'm flattered. Say, do you want to grab a bite to eat after this?" You nod and answer, "Sounds great." You both take your seats next to each other, and the table read begins. It lasts several hours.

Afterward, you and Emma make your way out to a restaurant that claims to have great cocktails. You arrive, get seated in a booth, and both order drinks. Emma orders a Negroni Sbagliato with prosecco in it and you order a Gin Martini with a twist. (If you know, you know.)

The night carries on with you two discussing your career, your lack of a love life, and dragons. It's a great night with even better company.

The next 10 months as you film season 1, you become close with the cast, especially Emma. You both hang out outside of filming time and you really like Emma. You find yourself dreaming of Emma some nights and you can barely meet their eyes. It's so embarrassing to have a crush, especially on a coworker. Emma also flirts when they get drunk and it's always directed to you. You don't know if they're just drunk or actually like you.

Season One finishes filming and the whole cast is at an open bar. You're sitting sipping your second gin martini and you are starting to feel tipsy. You hear, "Is this seat taken?" You see Emma standing there in all their glory and you shake your head. Emma sits next to you, leans back, and puts an arm around the back of your seat. Should you lean back... or what...? You lean back and Emma's hand finds your shoulder. Emma exclaims, "I was wondering if you were going to move closer." You reply, "Sorry, what was that? I keep getting lost in your eyes, what too cheesy?" Emma laughs and asks, "Is that why you've been avoiding me on set?" You shrug and answer, "Yes, you exist in my daily life and in my dreams. It's hard to look at you after I dream about you." Emma raises an eyebrow, places their other hand on your thigh, smirks, and asks, "And what are we doing in those dreams, may I ask?" You place one of your hands on Emma's hand on your thigh and answer, "Oh you know hot stuff." Emma smiles and asks, "Wanna get out of here?" You nod.

You both leave the party together and head to Emma's place.

When you get there, Emma complains about being hungry so you agree to cook with them. You both cook pasta, listen to music, and dance together. You both eat dinner so fast while laughing whenever you make eye contact.

You both walk to the couch and Emma asks, "Just a question, but when you said hot stuff in your dream with me, does that mean you have a crush on me?" You answer, "It's so embarrassing being a 30-year-old with a crush, but yes I do like you like that." Emma says, "I think the only embarrassing thing would be if I didn't feel the same way... I like you too. I really like you. I want to kiss you, but I know we're both really tipsy." You reply, "We can still kiss tipsy. I give my consent." Emma smirks and replies, "I think if we kiss, I won't be able to stop." You smirk and ask, "OK then what should we do?" Emma answers, "We could just watch a show or sleep."

You both watch a part of a movie until you both start falling asleep and waking each other up. You go to the bedroom to sleep and you wear one of Emma's shirts to bed. Emma is the big spoon and cuddles you as you drift off to sleep.

You wake up cozy and with a raging headache. You groan and twist a little. You hear Emma groan next to you and they say, "Morning. Is it just me or did those drinks really break your head?" You say, "I'm in pain. Yeah... but I liked waking up next to you." Emma replies, "I liked waking up to you too. You're a good cuddle buddy."

You both get up, you borrow clothes from Emma, and you go out to eat breakfast. You eat breakfast sandwiches and start to feel like a human. You go back to Emma's place, get back into pajamas, and turn on the TV to watch something.

Emma exclaims, "Let's kiss." You smile and say, "OK." Emma cups your face gently and you kiss. It's even better than in your dreams when you kiss them.

Part Two

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Baby whisperer

A/N: My baby fever with Mr. Stark is baacckkkk. Anyone care to join me???

Pairing: Tony Stark x F! Reader

Warning: 18+ fluff

.

You were on the verge of tears at this point.

It had been hours and you were still struggling to get your baby to settle. You had tried everything that normally would get her to fall asleep, you’d fed her, bathed her, placed her in her favourite rocking chair, even sang to her but it wasn’t working tonight.

Nothing was.

With the ever raging hormones, you felt like a failure who couldn’t even get her two month old child to sleep. Her wails were proof enough that you weren’t doing enough.

You were pacing back and forth in her nursery, patting her back gently while she screamed, your clothes already ruined when she spit up earlier. You’d have to take another shower, you thought. But all you wanted was for your baby to settle so you could too.

Like every new parent, sleep was non-existent these days but holding your precious daughter, watching her toothless grin and listening to her incoherent babbles made everything worth it.

She was everything you and Tony ever wanted.

Speaking of Tony, you asked the AI where your husband was, not hiding the irritation in your voice as she informed he was down in his lab, as always.

“Tell him it would be grand if he cared to visit his daughter and distraught wife, would you FRI?” You grumbled, still pacifying your baby whose cries had settled to a certain extent, but she was still fussing about.

“Did someone summon Daddy Stark? How are my favourite girls?” Tony’s arrival didn’t hinder your pacing, his eyes widening slightly when you threw you him your ‘you’re in trouble’ glare.

“She won’t settle today. I’ve tried everything.”

Immediately your baby squirmed in your arms, it was as if she was waiting for her father to hold her. Passing her to Tony carefully, you let out a sigh and took a seat in the plush armchair that sat next to her crib.

“Hazel M Stark, I heard you’ve been a little cranky today. How about we close those beautiful eyes and show Mama we can behave, huh?”

You watched in awe as Tony spoke to Hazel, his voice soft as ever, holding her against his chest as she settled down in minutes. He began humming a lullaby in Italian, one that made her drowsy in no time.

You knew this lullaby since he would often sing it to you during the last few weeks of your pregnancy when you were getting little to no sleep thanks to the discomfort that came with growing a baby in your belly.

He had been a calming factor throughout when you had initially presumed he would freak out the most. Whenever the baby’s kicks woke you up in the middle of the night, all he’d have to do was place his hands over your tummy and she would settle.

It was from then you knew that she’d be Daddy’s little girl. And every day ever since, was just proof that you were right.

It was heartwarming to watch, but equally annoying in times like these. All he would do was lovingly take her in his arms and she’d be content. But to be fair, you were the same when you’d initially got together with the man.

Shocked and offended as you were, you were relieved to see your baby finally calm and quiet, fast asleep before Tony gently laid her in her crib, making sure she had her stuffed rabbit and blanket secured around her.

“Are you sure you don’t secretly have more kids running around?” You joked, shaking your head in disbelief as you gazed down at Hazel, who was now sleeping blissfully.

“Excuse me? If you must know I have three.”

You chuckled, accepting Tony’s hug as he rubbed your back soothingly, placing a loving kiss against the side of your head. It was then when you allowed yourself to fully feel the exhaustion you were ignoring, the ache in your muscles, the heaviness in your eyelids, all of it. If you could, you’d sleep for sixteen hours straight but you knew there was only a couple of hours you would be rewarded with before your newborn would wake up for her feeding.

“Come on, Mama. Let’s get you to bed. I got another special lullaby for you.”

[sungvrhs]

ATTENTION - Park Sunghoon

Genre: Smut | CEO Sunghoon!male x reader!female

Word Count; 3.0K

Having numerous attempts at getting his attention? No way, either of those came across your mind and each and every one of them were so bland that you almost decided to drop out of this idea of yours. 

Not to mention how difficult this job was even after he was your husband, you weren't willing to give up- not just yet. “Y/n, maybe you should simply go and confess it out to him that you don't like it when doesn't attend to you or stuff. That is a hundred times better than the numerous failed attempts you are making to grasp his attention.” Your co-worker, Sarah spoke, causing you to groan as you ducked your head down on the table. “It's such a bummer to a pretty face with a pathetic personality.” You mumbled, lifting your head up to glance at his picture that was secretly displayed on your lockscreen. You didn't know if he ever wanted you to show him off, which you never did, or even be possessive towards him when other girls would twirl their hair or give one the most seductive looks to him. What surprised you was how ignorant he was to them. As a man, he had more than what you could label as ‘control’ over greedy desires which you were pretty thankful for, but you despised it a little when it came to you. How can he not change himself just when he is around you? Just a little bit? It was all that you ever wanted. 

You were thankful to have married a loyal man who wouldn't raise his head to meet the gaze of another woman that wasn't his, or would never cherish their existence in any way to make way for any sort of expectations. But if that was being applied to you too, then you didn't know what to feel about it; unlucky or thankful? 

“Come on Y/n, don't think much about it. I hope your man realizes that soon.” Sarah spoke, patting your back as she felt guilty for not being much of help to you. Just as she was about to leave, your eyes widened as you sat up straight, causing the latter to get her attention back to you. “What what? What happened?” Sarah questioned you worriedly, looking back at you with a smug expression resting on your face. “I can do this one last thing I haven't done yet.” You spoke, giving a pause to your sentence as Sarah sighed. “And that is?” “I can make him jealous.” You spoke, grinning as Sarah rolled her eyes. “You think that after what you have told me about Sunghoon, he would fall for this?” You thought for a while, as you spoke “He might if it is his best friend.” You spoke, raising your eyebrows as Sarah finally understood. “No way you're pulling Jake into this.” You whined a little at her response, “Please Sarah! This is the only chance I got. I promise I won't emphasize on anything like that ever again!” You gave her the most doey eyes that you could as to which she sighed. “Fine fine, I'll talk to Jake.” She spoke as you lunged forward to give her a big hug, muttering a small thank you as to which she smiled. If that is what can fix her friend’s life, then she was down for it. Both of you knew that Jake and Sunghoon were like two peas in a pod and having him as your bait was a perfect plan. And with him being Sarah’s boyfriend just added cherry to the top of your well designed plan. ‘This shall be it.’ You thought to yourself as you vowed never to turn back to this request after this attempt. 

“This is it. Does this look fine?” You asked her as the three of you sat in your office, to which Sarah gave you a thumbs up. “Well you look pretty, regardless of how you dress up in your usual days.” Jake spoke, suppressing his laughter as to which you threw the ribbon on his face. “Respectfully fuck off Jake.” You spoke as to which the latter shrugged his shoulders. “I can, but you both have bound me not to.” “Well it's all this once Jake, I hope that knocks some sense in your best friend to not keep hurting Y/n.” Sarah spoke, her hand resting on his shoulder as to which he sighed. “I’m gonna be dommed once he finds out that I’m the one flirting with you.” He spoke, facing you as to which you smiled. “At least he would notice. Unlike the rest of the days.” The last phrase almost came out as a whisper, causing you to bite your lips to suppress the disappointment that was evident in your voice. “Hey, it’s going to be fine. Trust me.” Sarah spoke, causing you to give a soft smile to her. “Well, if this doesn’t work, I’ll surely go talk to him.” Jake spoke, your smile evident at his expressions. Well, at least something happened to be good today. You were thankful to have two good friends here. Otherwise, the workspace would have been more like a prison to you. 

The meeting was unexpected and you were thankful for wearing your makeup in the morning otherwise you wouldn’t have looked presentable. And to add fuel to the fire, you were running late to the meeting room as you sprinted through the hallway, the clock striking exactly 3.03pm which meant that you had messed up. Reaching up to the meeting door, you pushed it slightly, the former voices dropping down to dead silence as you peaked your head, noticing how the pair of eyes were looking at you. Nervousness took over you as you made your way inside, muttering a small sorry to the people for interrupting as you made way towards the table. It might have escaped your lips as a whisper but it was audible enough for your friends to notice as Sarah motioned you to sit beside Jake. You took your seat, skipping your usual empty one that was next to Sunghoon as you made way to sit next to Jake, exchanging a small smile with him as you failed to notice a raging pair of eyes at you both. 

“Is he looking?” You asked Jake, not making it evident by looking at the screen as to which he responded, “He is, though he seems a bit unbothered.” You heard him speak as you scratched your nape, turning your head to look at where Sunghoon was seated, his cold gaze from his specs meeting yours as a chill ran down your spine. ‘How could he be effortlessly breathtaking?’ You thought to yourself as you were quick enough to break eye contact. “You can take off your coat, that might help.” Jake spoke, motioning his eyes to Sunghoon as you slightly nodded, taking off the coat as Jake helped you out. You could see how Sunghoon was clenching his jaw, definitely pissed off at your actions as you smirked to yourself. You could see that Jake saw it too as he was trying his best to suppress his laughter. 

Adjusting his specs after the employee finished with his short presentation, Sunghoon was quick enough to agree with the ideas as the meeting was called off. “That's it for today, everyone is dismissed.” You turned around, looking at Jake as he was confused at how straight forward he was. “It's alright, we will figure something out.” You nodded, as you hugged him. “Thanks a lot though.” You spoke, breaking the hug as he nodded sideways. “Chill Y/n, I just helped you with your coat, nothing else.” His orbs moved across to meet Sunghoon’s bizarre ones as he grinned. He knew he was going against the plan but he was 100% sure it was going to be worth it. Leaning close to your ear as his hands rested on your shoulders. “ This may sound stupid, but I think this will work.” You pulled back a bit confused at his words as he made way to good your hand, kissing the back of it as he passed you a wink as took a few steps back, leaving you stunned, your face heating up at his actions. You were definitely not prepared for this but you cleared your throat, grabbing your files as you made way to exit the door before you heard a voice reaching out to you. “Except for you, Park.Y/n. I would like to exchange a few words with you.”

Your ears perked up at his icy voice, movements halting at his words as if your body had failed to respond after he called you out. You could easily pick up hints of another vibe reflecting in them as your eyebrows furrowed at the sudden swift in tones. You turned to face him, watching his every move; how he would set his specs on the bridge of his nose, his slender fingers sliding across the page of the file as he kept his one leg on the other, adjusting the tie loose around his collar. Not going to lie, it was all more than to make you feel a blazing sensation across your chest. And whilst you were busy admiring the small details, you heard the door being locked, pulling you back to reality as you turned to find him messing with the buttons of the CCTV camera and the sound adjustment. 

"Done staring shamelessly at your boss?" His raspy voice snapped you out of your trance as you mentally scoffed. ‘The attitude.’ You rolled your eyes at him as you spoke, “I wasn’t staring. Why would I stare at someone whom I loath the most?” You spoke, causing him to turn around on his heels, raising an eyebrow as he let out a chuckle, nodding sideways at your words. It was unbelievable to his ears that you would ever loath his presence. “You? Loathing my presence?” He spoke, taking slow steps towards you as you took a step back. “Of course you would when you got my best friend to flirt around with.” You couldn’t believe his words, but the fact that he caught you right on point was itching a smirk on your lips, but you tried to avoid it, maintaining a poker face.

“Excuse me? I wasn’t flirting with him. We are just friends-""Y/n, the attitude you had a few minutes ago clearly doesn't justify your words." He cuts you off, his slow steps towards you progressing up with every passing second. The echoes of his steps were syncing with your heartbeats; rapidly taking pace with every passing second. “What is wrong with you Sunghoon? Your dual personality is a growing headache for me. It's either you despising me and not sparing a glance at your very own wife or you’re completely pissed off at me talking to my friend-””I don’t care if you talk to someone or not.” He spoke, now completely in front of you as you mentally cursed the table for existing right behind your back right now. “What I despise is how happy and smiley you seemed with him.” His hands made way to take away the files from your hands as he kept them beside on the table. “How you both talked as you both shared a loving eye contact.” His other hand made way to tuck a hair strand behind your ear as he leaned closer, his cinnamon breath hitting your cheeks as he continued to speak. “How you were seeking his help to take off your coat.” His hands traced down your outlines, slowly and sensually as it didn’t fail to give you tingles. “S-Sunghoon.” You whimpered, your breath becoming shaky at his actions as he chuckled deeply. “What? You can’t handle it? I didn’t even start anything.” He spoke, raising an eyebrow as he undid the buttons of his coat, slowly and painfully as you found it hard to maintain eye contact with him whilst his actions did the opposite. He knew the right buttons to press and this is exactly what he wanted to do. You found yourself at the loss of words as your mouth was hung at his actions. Letting the coat dangle free around his body, he swiftly took it off, flexing his chiseled body under the white clean shirt as he turned to throw it on the table, watching it land down as he turned attention to you again, his tongue poking his inner cheek.

“You did this on purpose didn't you?” He questioned you, his hands resting on either side of the table as he had you trapped in between. You looked away, finding it hard to meet his gaze. ‘That was not how this was supposed to go.’ “What? Cat got your tongue?” He scoffed, knowing very well the impact he was setting on you was like setting up a jenga tower, step by step. You gulped at his actions, trying not to get away with his little play. The thin white shirt was clearly not helping as it traced out the outlines of his whole body; from the top of his broad shoulders down to his sculpted abs, your gaze went to his muscular biceps that followed his veiny hands, settled right beside yours as his figure trapped yours. “Eyes up here love.” His slender fingers came in contact with your chin as he raised your head to level your eyes with his. A moment of silence follows, with only the rhythmic breathing of the two of you syncing whilst his calm attire contrasts your freaked out one. It was nowhere close to being intended but seeing him all pissed off by the way his darkened orbs pierced through yours, it wasn’t helping the heat that was arousing between your legs.

“I hate you.” You spoke, tongue poking your inner cheek as you pushed him back, creating space between the two of you as you heard him scoffing. “If you lie,m try to be a bit more evident, my love. The way you were technically undressing me with your gaze speaks the opposite of what you just ‘meant.’” Emphasizing on the word ’meant’ as he clicked his tongue, his hands resting on your waist as your cheeks turned into hues of red. He spoke nothing other than leaning down next to your ear, his hand squeezing your waist as you held back your gasp. “Try a bit harder to hate me, your body language ain’t helping you either.” He chuckled in your ear, his husky voice ringing like a melody as you turned to face the opposite side, hating how weak you were becoming in front of him. He pulled back a little, his cinnamon breath fanning across your lips whilst his chocolatey orbs captivated your hazel ones once again. 

“Tell me that you hate me in front of my face.” He spoke, his gaze flickering between your lips and orbs as he inched closer to you ever so painfully whilst you gulped down the lump forming in your throat. “I hat-” Before you had the chance to declare what your heart never desired to you felt his lips meeting yours, pulling you in a feverish kiss as his hands gripped yours wrists, pushing them behind your back as he held them in place just by one of his hands, earning a groan from your end as to which he only smirked. He knew you very well and seizing the right opportunity was his art. The bridge of his specs kept knocking against your nose as to which you simply wanted to adjust it in between his locks, but the very next second he pulled back aggressively from the kiss, leaving you perplexed as he shook off his head to the right, letting his specs fly across the room as your eyes widened. He wasted no time in letting you mumble as his hands seized your tiny waist, pushing you up on the table whilst he had his guard in between your legs, pulling you close by the nape in another kiss once again, this one being more passionate than the earlier one. 

Pulling apart after your hands tapped his shoulder at the shortage of breath, a string of saliva had your lips connected, leaving you both panting for air. “Oh you do hate me. Hate me enough just to kiss me.” He smirked, knowing very well how much of the impact he had on you. You were beyond flustered at his words. This side of him was definitely unexpected and you were enjoying it. His fingers played with your pants, eye contact never breaking as he continued with his verbal declaration. “You hate me just enough to let me slide past the barrier.” He pulled down your pants, leaving you in your lacy underwear as he pulled them down, his other hand crept under your shirt, rubbing circles on your back as the contact of his cold hand with your warm skin made you hiss. “Just enough to undress you.” His hands made way to pull off your shirt, as you helped him up, too drunk in his words as you simply obliged to his unheard commands. “Just enough to finger you.” He muttered his fingers skillfully diving into your cunt, running waves of pleasure through your body as you clutched onto his biceps. “S-Sunghoon please.” You mumbled, suppressing your voice to the lowest as you whimpered, your face scrunching as his fingers continued to waver like magic around your walls. You didn’t even pay enough attention to how and when he unzipped his own, holding his shaft as he almost rode you to your high, a familiar knot forming in your stomach as he pulled out just before you could feel the relief, earning a groan from you. Your eyes shot open at his actions, brimming orbs meeting his mischievous ones as he leaned closer to your ear, whispering the last words before he devoured you. “You hate me just enough to let me fuck.you.raw.” He let those words sink in your ears, pushing his shaft right in you as your back arched. “Let me give this pretty little cunt of yours all the attention it needs. Since my woman can’t pleasure herself enough, can’t she?” 

note: Hi!! MY HANDS WERE ITCHING TO POST SOMETHING ABOUT HOON IN SPECS AND I A CHUNK OF IT EVEN BEFORE THE PICS WERE DROPPED. I tried to mingle the plot that I wrote earlier with a few good ideas. If there are any grammartical errors, feel free to ignore cause english ain't my first language! Reblogs and likes would be appreciated!