Tumgik
#Definitely more discipline in writing
heyifinallyhaveablog · 6 months
Text
The Defeated
Borderline proud of myself yet again for not succumbing to laziness, and sleeping my way through the Sunday. And bringing myself to finally see this through.
The taglist remains:
@melancholicmonody , @ambidextrousarcher, @chaanv, @vidhurvrika, @bleedinknight, @stxrrynxghts, @supernatasha, @kalpansh, @alwaysthesideofwonder, @raat-jaaga-paakhi, @slayerofthevampire, @demonkidpliz and anyone else at all.
Factual corrects, comments, and constructive criticism are always welcome.
Also, please feel free to drop in with any prompts that you may have. I'm officially out of ideas for any writing at all, and hence on the lookout for inspiration to dawn as an epiphany.
__________________________________________
Fandom: Mahabharat | Star Plus Mahabharat
Pairings: Bheema/Draupadi
Warnings: Mentions of War | PTSD | Trauma | Bloodshed
Summary: The Second Pandava deals with ghosts of the War. Alone.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a work of fiction, based on an idea I had while reading C. Rajagopalachari’s version of the Mahabharata. But I do have to say this, this has a lot to offer that is different from the Mahabharata that is actually popular. I just hope that this resonates with the readers, and you read this, and find this worth your time and your feedback. Please leave a short comment or a like, whatever you may deem fit. And as always!
THANK YOU!
Note: Link to the said source: Here
Links:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2, and
Chapter 3
____________________________
Chapter 4
The Ghosts
“The Grandsire’s Mother,” Draupadi said, after an eternity, “hasn’t been able to cleanse all, it seems.”
“I’d felt it, My Love,” Bheema rose from her lap, breathing into his palms as if trying to regain his breath, “when Jyeshth performed his last rites. The Holy River is never turbulent, never acerbic. She took in all his penance, while he cried himself hoarse. She let him vent his grief, but-”
- “I doubt even she could have borne it all. I felt his grief assume the most tangible form it could as I held him, as I might have heard her calm whisper, as if she unburdened some his grief on my form.”
- “Trust me Panchaali, Pavanputra hasn’t granted me the strength to heave this angst.”
As if it were in Him to erase the sanguine trail of Kurukshetra.
____________________
She thinks of it all, once again.
The Kuru Palace seemed to assume the form of a grandiose crematorium. Dead bodies everywhere.
Gone were the decorated halls, and, perfumed chambers.
Gone were the regal, elephantine embellishments, of gold and silk.
Gone was the resplendence. 
All was bereft of everything, but death, and the pallor of destruction.
Krishna always seemed to emphasise that the means were warranted for the end. But, at the end of it all, what deific poultice could heal wounds that were irreparable? Which God could reverse the deaths of those multitudes?
Could the land of Kurukshetra be cleanse of the rank odour, and sanguine of The Great War, even if their burden was to be meant to be borne by posterities on end?
She tries to not let her memory go down that rabbit hole. The incidents, haven’t yet let themselves take leave of the inner recesses of her memory. Her being still doesn’t allow it.
“I still wonder, Arya,” she breathes, “what if I hadn’t been-”
“Don’t, Panchaali,” Bhima cuts her short.
That was another mark of shame that his mighty frame had been unable to bear, even after all these years -
- Even today, now that the War was over.
- Long over.
It was for them to deal with the Ghosts of their past, their present, and
Their future.
6 notes · View notes
girlscience · 3 months
Text
Well, I went from 970 words to 1203 words and the order is better and a lot of editing was done (went up to ~1500 words for a bit and edited back down), but wow I can't focus for shit. This paper is still definitely not the quality it needs to be and for trying to work on it for about 9 hours today and only ending up here, I am honestly super disappointed with myself. I have never been the fastest writer, but this is abysmal. I will not make it through grad school if I can't write papers.
#I apparently have very little ability to make myself write without a lot of external pressure#because even though I have a deadline for this.... if I don't do it nobody but me will really care#I have to be doing it for myself and my life#and apparently that's not sufficient motivation to get past how much I don't like writing#which is DUMB#I write on here all the time. I write huge dissertation type messages about stories I like#I write whole documents on worldbuilding that I'm doing#I also think I'm very much out of practice with writing unfortunately#and my last memory of writing papers is reallllly terrible (senior year end of semester covid and being at home fucked me over)#and I think all of that is compounding on top the fact my attention span is smaller than it used to be#and so it's like trying to herd cats just to type a fucking comprehensible paragraph#I know I spent probably 7 of my 9 hours on the computer today on youtube or tumblr#and I probably spent 1 hour just staring at the document#I just want my brain to WORK#I don't know how to make it WORK#productivity hacks really don't help much... I am think I need to try the boredom one more though#that was definitely what got me to make calls and write emails the past couple weeks#maybe I can make it work for this. I just have to get up the discipline to not get on another website#the hack is basically 'if I won't do this thing I need to do I just have to sit here till the boredom is so strong I'll do anything'#so you can't get on another website or clean or listen to music or anything#just sit until your brain is screaming that it will do ANYTHING to not be bored#and so it forces you to do the thing because at least that's doing SOMETHING#but it does mean I have to be strong enough to not do anything else#which has mixed results. but it has worked a little bit so I guess we'll try that this week more
1 note · View note
Text
What kind of bubble is AI?
Tumblr media
My latest column for Locus Magazine is "What Kind of Bubble is AI?" All economic bubbles are hugely destructive, but some of them leave behind wreckage that can be salvaged for useful purposes, while others leave nothing behind but ashes:
https://locusmag.com/2023/12/commentary-cory-doctorow-what-kind-of-bubble-is-ai/
Think about some 21st century bubbles. The dotcom bubble was a terrible tragedy, one that drained the coffers of pension funds and other institutional investors and wiped out retail investors who were gulled by Superbowl Ads. But there was a lot left behind after the dotcoms were wiped out: cheap servers, office furniture and space, but far more importantly, a generation of young people who'd been trained as web makers, leaving nontechnical degree programs to learn HTML, perl and python. This created a whole cohort of technologists from non-technical backgrounds, a first in technological history. Many of these people became the vanguard of a more inclusive and humane tech development movement, and they were able to make interesting and useful services and products in an environment where raw materials – compute, bandwidth, space and talent – were available at firesale prices.
Contrast this with the crypto bubble. It, too, destroyed the fortunes of institutional and individual investors through fraud and Superbowl Ads. It, too, lured in nontechnical people to learn esoteric disciplines at investor expense. But apart from a smattering of Rust programmers, the main residue of crypto is bad digital art and worse Austrian economics.
Or think of Worldcom vs Enron. Both bubbles were built on pure fraud, but Enron's fraud left nothing behind but a string of suspicious deaths. By contrast, Worldcom's fraud was a Big Store con that required laying a ton of fiber that is still in the ground to this day, and is being bought and used at pennies on the dollar.
AI is definitely a bubble. As I write in the column, if you fly into SFO and rent a car and drive north to San Francisco or south to Silicon Valley, every single billboard is advertising an "AI" startup, many of which are not even using anything that can be remotely characterized as AI. That's amazing, considering what a meaningless buzzword AI already is.
So which kind of bubble is AI? When it pops, will something useful be left behind, or will it go away altogether? To be sure, there's a legion of technologists who are learning Tensorflow and Pytorch. These nominally open source tools are bound, respectively, to Google and Facebook's AI environments:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/18/openwashing/#you-keep-using-that-word-i-do-not-think-it-means-what-you-think-it-means
But if those environments go away, those programming skills become a lot less useful. Live, large-scale Big Tech AI projects are shockingly expensive to run. Some of their costs are fixed – collecting, labeling and processing training data – but the running costs for each query are prodigious. There's a massive primary energy bill for the servers, a nearly as large energy bill for the chillers, and a titanic wage bill for the specialized technical staff involved.
Once investor subsidies dry up, will the real-world, non-hyperbolic applications for AI be enough to cover these running costs? AI applications can be plotted on a 2X2 grid whose axes are "value" (how much customers will pay for them) and "risk tolerance" (how perfect the product needs to be).
Charging teenaged D&D players $10 month for an image generator that creates epic illustrations of their characters fighting monsters is low value and very risk tolerant (teenagers aren't overly worried about six-fingered swordspeople with three pupils in each eye). Charging scammy spamfarms $500/month for a text generator that spits out dull, search-algorithm-pleasing narratives to appear over recipes is likewise low-value and highly risk tolerant (your customer doesn't care if the text is nonsense). Charging visually impaired people $100 month for an app that plays a text-to-speech description of anything they point their cameras at is low-value and moderately risk tolerant ("that's your blue shirt" when it's green is not a big deal, while "the street is safe to cross" when it's not is a much bigger one).
Morganstanley doesn't talk about the trillions the AI industry will be worth some day because of these applications. These are just spinoffs from the main event, a collection of extremely high-value applications. Think of self-driving cars or radiology bots that analyze chest x-rays and characterize masses as cancerous or noncancerous.
These are high value – but only if they are also risk-tolerant. The pitch for self-driving cars is "fire most drivers and replace them with 'humans in the loop' who intervene at critical junctures." That's the risk-tolerant version of self-driving cars, and it's a failure. More than $100b has been incinerated chasing self-driving cars, and cars are nowhere near driving themselves:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/09/herbies-revenge/#100-billion-here-100-billion-there-pretty-soon-youre-talking-real-money
Quite the reverse, in fact. Cruise was just forced to quit the field after one of their cars maimed a woman – a pedestrian who had not opted into being part of a high-risk AI experiment – and dragged her body 20 feet through the streets of San Francisco. Afterwards, it emerged that Cruise had replaced the single low-waged driver who would normally be paid to operate a taxi with 1.5 high-waged skilled technicians who remotely oversaw each of its vehicles:
https://www.nytimes.com/2023/11/03/technology/cruise-general-motors-self-driving-cars.html
The self-driving pitch isn't that your car will correct your own human errors (like an alarm that sounds when you activate your turn signal while someone is in your blind-spot). Self-driving isn't about using automation to augment human skill – it's about replacing humans. There's no business case for spending hundreds of billions on better safety systems for cars (there's a human case for it, though!). The only way the price-tag justifies itself is if paid drivers can be fired and replaced with software that costs less than their wages.
What about radiologists? Radiologists certainly make mistakes from time to time, and if there's a computer vision system that makes different mistakes than the sort that humans make, they could be a cheap way of generating second opinions that trigger re-examination by a human radiologist. But no AI investor thinks their return will come from selling hospitals that reduce the number of X-rays each radiologist processes every day, as a second-opinion-generating system would. Rather, the value of AI radiologists comes from firing most of your human radiologists and replacing them with software whose judgments are cursorily double-checked by a human whose "automation blindness" will turn them into an OK-button-mashing automaton:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/23/automation-blindness/#humans-in-the-loop
The profit-generating pitch for high-value AI applications lies in creating "reverse centaurs": humans who serve as appendages for automation that operates at a speed and scale that is unrelated to the capacity or needs of the worker:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/17/revenge-of-the-chickenized-reverse-centaurs/
But unless these high-value applications are intrinsically risk-tolerant, they are poor candidates for automation. Cruise was able to nonconsensually enlist the population of San Francisco in an experimental murderbot development program thanks to the vast sums of money sloshing around the industry. Some of this money funds the inevitabilist narrative that self-driving cars are coming, it's only a matter of when, not if, and so SF had better get in the autonomous vehicle or get run over by the forces of history.
Once the bubble pops (all bubbles pop), AI applications will have to rise or fall on their actual merits, not their promise. The odds are stacked against the long-term survival of high-value, risk-intolerant AI applications.
The problem for AI is that while there are a lot of risk-tolerant applications, they're almost all low-value; while nearly all the high-value applications are risk-intolerant. Once AI has to be profitable – once investors withdraw their subsidies from money-losing ventures – the risk-tolerant applications need to be sufficient to run those tremendously expensive servers in those brutally expensive data-centers tended by exceptionally expensive technical workers.
If they aren't, then the business case for running those servers goes away, and so do the servers – and so do all those risk-tolerant, low-value applications. It doesn't matter if helping blind people make sense of their surroundings is socially beneficial. It doesn't matter if teenaged gamers love their epic character art. It doesn't even matter how horny scammers are for generating AI nonsense SEO websites:
https://twitter.com/jakezward/status/1728032634037567509
These applications are all riding on the coattails of the big AI models that are being built and operated at a loss in order to be profitable. If they remain unprofitable long enough, the private sector will no longer pay to operate them.
Now, there are smaller models, models that stand alone and run on commodity hardware. These would persist even after the AI bubble bursts, because most of their costs are setup costs that have already been borne by the well-funded companies who created them. These models are limited, of course, though the communities that have formed around them have pushed those limits in surprising ways, far beyond their original manufacturers' beliefs about their capacity. These communities will continue to push those limits for as long as they find the models useful.
These standalone, "toy" models are derived from the big models, though. When the AI bubble bursts and the private sector no longer subsidizes mass-scale model creation, it will cease to spin out more sophisticated models that run on commodity hardware (it's possible that Federated learning and other techniques for spreading out the work of making large-scale models will fill the gap).
So what kind of bubble is the AI bubble? What will we salvage from its wreckage? Perhaps the communities who've invested in becoming experts in Pytorch and Tensorflow will wrestle them away from their corporate masters and make them generally useful. Certainly, a lot of people will have gained skills in applying statistical techniques.
But there will also be a lot of unsalvageable wreckage. As big AI models get integrated into the processes of the productive economy, AI becomes a source of systemic risk. The only thing worse than having an automated process that is rendered dangerous or erratic based on AI integration is to have that process fail entirely because the AI suddenly disappeared, a collapse that is too precipitous for former AI customers to engineer a soft landing for their systems.
This is a blind spot in our policymakers debates about AI. The smart policymakers are asking questions about fairness, algorithmic bias, and fraud. The foolish policymakers are ensnared in fantasies about "AI safety," AKA "Will the chatbot become a superintelligence that turns the whole human race into paperclips?"
https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/27/10-types-of-people/#taking-up-a-lot-of-space
But no one is asking, "What will we do if" – when – "the AI bubble pops and most of this stuff disappears overnight?"
Tumblr media
If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/19/bubblenomics/#pop
Tumblr media
Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg
CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en
--
tom_bullock (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/tombullock/25173469495/
CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/
4K notes · View notes
kairologia · 2 months
Text
Your untapped talents according to your fifth house.
Tumblr media
In traditional astrology, being Venus’ joy, the fifth house is (among others) a signifier for natural talents, as well as hobbies you would enjoy most or thrive at.
Which are yours?
· Aries in the 5th house (Sagittarius rising): you possess a proficiency in competitive or energetic sports and activities, a natural ability to lead a team, an uncanny ability to face & overcome your fears, as well as high stamina & endurance. Steadfast in your beliefs and capable of debating in their favour anytime of the day.
· Taurus in the 5th house (Capricorn rising): you’re naturally talented in gardening & cultivating a beautiful, lush & luxuriant outdoor space, effortlessly skilled in arts like painting, sculpture, or pottery, and excellent at cultivating artistic talent in others (would make a great art professor).
· Gemini in the 5th house (Aquarius rising): you have unrivaled storytelling and writing skills, an innate versatility in performing arts such as acting or comedy, & skilled in employing incisive language to convey complex ideas or emotions. You may have a talent for photography, drawing, or manual/visual arts.
· Cancer in the 5th house (Pisces rising): you’re skilled in acting out intense scenes or writing emotionally charged stories, talented in interior design and making every new place you inhabit feel like home. Usually talented in cooking &/or baking. Great swimmers too.
· Leo in the 5th house (Aries rising): Leo fifth houses are highly creative in fashion-related endeavors such as designing clothing items or costumes, have natural flair for performing arts and a natural ability to captivate an audience or command attention. Great at improvising and coming up with stories on the fly.
· Virgo in the 5th house (Taurus rising): you’re talented in crafts like knitting or woodworking, editing or artistic critique, photography. You’re the go-to person for event organization & planning. Skilled at DIY crafting projects, scrapbooking, manual creations such as jewelry making or ceramic works. Great debators, too.
· Libra in the 5th house (Gemini rising): you have outstanding diplomatic skills & are capable of negotiating your way through just about any situation. You're skilled in creating harmonious compositions in visual arts or music. You would definitely enjoy ballroom dancing, painting, & decorating spaces. You also have a natural sense for aesthetics & beauty.
· Scorpio in the 5th house (Cancer risings): you would make a great taboo/erotica/crime fiction writer or visual artist. You're also talented in writing intense and charged scenes or lyrics, & are capable of evoking strong emotions through artistic expression. You would probably enjoy investigating mysteries & delving into occultism.
· Sagittarius in the 5th house (Leo rising): you’re amazing at inspiring others through creative expression, great at documenting experiences through photography or journaling whether in remote destinations or within your hometowns & making the mundane seem interesting. You’d make a great writer of philosophical or esoterical fiction or analysis.
· Capricorn in the 5th house (Virgo rising): usually great at forms of art that demand focus and discipline. you're the type of person that can master more than one classical instrument if you were to put your heart into it. You would enjoy collecting antiques as a hobby, & have potential to be an eloquent & articulate speaker & writer.
· Aquarius in the 5th house (Libra rising): terrific at advocating for social change & making unheard voices feel heard through artistic or creative expression, and creating experimental or avant-garde works. Potential great musicians. The type of person who can turn even the blandest looking items into something uniquely gorgeous.
· Pisces in the 5th house (Scorpio rising): you have an innate versatile talent at anything creative as you’re capable of creating immersive artistic experiences that can even cloud the senses. Potential talent for dancing, occult or spiritual pursuits and intuitive painting as well. Would definitely enjoy swimming & marine life exploration.
P.S : one configuration cannot describe your entire experience. you may not relate to certain points, as you have had life experiences that shaped you and an entire chart consisting of inextricable elements that need one another to make sense.
Click here for readings !
2K notes · View notes
inuyashaluver · 2 months
Text
boyfriend - leah williamson
leah williamson x reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media
description: in which your girlfriend is just the definition of boyfriend
warnings: swearing, a little suggestive
a/n: i was writing my requests and got the overwhelming urge to write this because leah is just the definition of boyfriend, i don’t make the rules, i also saw the picture of her this morning and died so here you go lmao
⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆
your girlfriend, leah, was the literal definition of boyfriend. and yeah, maybe that didn’t make sense, but it did to you.
leah williamson was incredibly protective, supportive and disciplined to the public eye, but to you, she was just your leah.
your leah found comfort in burying her face in the crook of your neck to avoid the rest of the world.
your leah loved to hold your hand or any part of your body at every given moment so everyone knew you were hers and she was yours.
your leah was incredibly stubborn, especially when it came to you. your leah worshipped the ground you walked on.
you and leah grew up together in the arsenal youth teams, quickly gravitating towards each other when you both realised how passionate you were about football, exactly like the other person.
when you both got selected for the england teams, you two grew extremely close, finding comfort in just being around each other. you both brought out the best in each other and everyone could see it, both on and off the pitch.
you and leah didn’t have many issues surrounding your years of pining, the two of you would shamelessly flirt from the time you were both 19 and changing that dynamic of being best friends to something more.
“baby, do not go on this date” leah pleads as you held up a forth outfit up to your body, “what do you think?” you turn to face her, a scowl evident on her 19 year old face as she sat on the edge of your bed.
“you look gorgeous, that’s not the point, (y/n)” she spits out, “i don’t want you to go,” leah crosses her arms over her chest and glares at you chuckling in the mirror.
“i want to go, lee baby” you tease, making the girl huff in frustration when you brought out yet another top against you.
“fine, wear the second outfit, see if i care,” she grumbles, picking at her cuticles while you smile at her through the mirror.
you were just pulling her leg, there wasn’t really a date, you just loved to tease leah but you also wanted your relationship to progress, to finally call her yours.
“babe” you call out, moving to stand in between her spread legs, she looks up at you curiously, her glare still a little evident as you smiled down at her.
“what?” she sighs, your hands make your ways to her shoulders, massaging them gently and feeling her relax under your touch.
“there’s no date, you git” you chuckle, leah tenses again, “sorry?” you really couldn’t help but laugh at her face of relief but also mischief as she looked up at you.
“i’m fucking with you, there’s no date” you laugh, leah grabs the sides of your hips and chucks you onto your bed, moving to straddle your hips as she tickled your sides.
“you’re such a little shit!” she laughs, smiling brightly at the bright laughs coming out of your mouth.
“why would you tell me there was a date?” she breathes out, lacing your fingers together as she pinned them by the sides of your head.
“wanted to see how you’d react” you say breathlessly, your chest heaving while an affectionate smile adorns your features.
“you seemed a little jealous, williamson?” you say teasingly, leah shakes her head, pinning you by your hips to the bed with her own, “fuck off, i was not” she defends, giving your hands a squeeze as you laugh up at her.
your heart was beating out of your chest, so was leah’s, but in a good way. a weirdly familiar way.
“you so were” you smirk, “i don’t want you to go” you mock her accent, she rolls her eyes fondly, lifting your hand up and threatening to bite your fingers.
you yelp when her teeth actually does graze your pointer finger, making her chuckle against your skin.
her eyes flicker between your own before falling to your lips, subconsciously wetting hers with her tongue as she looked back up at your eyes.
“looking a little flushed there, gorgeous, you alright?” she teases, you shake your head at her, “i’m fine, but you look a little flushed there, babe, anything you want to tell me?” you tease right back.
she giggles at your words, kissing the corner of your mouth, your breath hitched at how close she was to your lips, feeling her smirk against your skin as she trailed kisses along your cheeks.
she pulls back, dangerously close to your face as she chuckles, both of your pupils were blown out, cheeky grins evident on both of your faces.
leah puts you out of your misery and gives you that kiss you’d both been dreaming of, it was as perfect as a first kiss could go.
a little inexperienced at first but quickly learning from each other as it continued. you hummed against leah’s lips and she can’t help but grin into the kiss.
the kiss lasted for a couple of seconds before she let go of you, pulling you to sit up cross legged in front of her while she offered you a sheepish smile.
“be my girlfriend?” she breathes out, you nod instantly, making your way into her lap and kissing her until the air was knocked out from your lungs.
when you both pulled away, you tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear and leah’s heart fluttered. at the gesture but also the fact you were doing it as her girlfriend. “took you long enough” you grin, she pinches your hip and smirks when you squirm in her lap.
“how about i wear outfit number two and we go out on our own date” you smile cheekily, she presses a quick, tender kiss to your lips in response,
“you’ve got yourself a deal” she whispers against your lips, her hands gently squeezing your hips as you ended up in another kiss.
in present times, you and leah moved in together, both of you were extremely successful in your football careers.
leah was the captain of the england senior team and you couldn’t be more proud, showing her how much you loved that armband the first time she wore it.
you and leah had so much love for each other it was sickeningly sweet. both of you were head over heels, affection an understatement for the two of you.
it was obvious in the way you acted around her, dropping anything and everything if she needed something. telling her verbally how much you loved her no matter where you were. giving her heart eyes every two seconds that had her stomach swarming with butterflies.
and in leah’s case, she’s been called a simp way more than she’d like to admit but she didn’t mind. it was true after all.
“baby, you’ll get sick like that” leah scolds as you walk out of the change room onto the pitch where she was waiting for you for a pre match lap, your puffer unzipped in just your training kit.
“i’m fine, love” you smile, walking up to her and promptly puckering your lips up at her, she shakes her head fondly, pressing a couple of kisses to your lips while you sighed happily.
she pulls away from you, tugging you closer by the sides of your puffer and zipping it up for you. you smile at her appreciatively, she pinches your cheek gently before grabbing your hand and interlacing it with hers as you both walked around, posing for photos together with cheesy grins if needed.
your cheeks were a little red, not only from leah but the cold as well. leah moves you to stand in front of her again, her arms wrapping around you and prompting you to do the same as she pulled you closer.
she kisses your cheeks repeatedly, feeling them warm up under her lips as she spreads her love on both. “still cold?” she says softly, you nod with a cheeky grin, “very” she narrows her eyes at you amusingly but continues spreading kisses over your entire face, relishing in the soft giggles you were rewarding her with.
suddenly, she gasps, reaching into her pockets with an excited smile. “i forgot!” she exclaims, pulling out two heat packs that were warming up in her pockets, she only did it for you.
she places both of them against your cheeks and you smile happily, letting leah press little kisses to your lips again as she held the packs gently on your face, making sure not to burn you. she would whisper in conversation with you in between the kisses, your stomach lurching at her softness.
“ugh, you two make me sick” beth dry wretches, victoria and alessia laugh while watching you both pull away, “fuck off, beth” leah groans, tugging you impossibly closer as you tucked your head under her chin.
“i’ll remind you she’s my girlfriend, bethany” you tease, leah kisses your temple softly, “you think i don’t know that? you’re attached at the hip” she teases, “leave them, bethy, they’re cute” alessia coos, you send her a little wink of appreciation.
“they’re cute until you catch them fucking,” beth exclaims, you and leah both roll your eyes in unison, “you came to our home, unannounced, uninvited, with the spare key” leah grits out, holding onto you protectively. your hands rub up and down her back in an attempt to calm her down but leah was your defender.
“i told you i was coming over!” beth accuses, “you did fucking not!” leah yells, alessia and victoria laugh at the the thought of you and leah being caught. especially knowing how protective leah was of you. let’s just say a lot of yelling happened that day.
the bickering went back and forth for a bit as you and leah kept cuddling up together.
“you could have the same if you just go up to viv” leah shrugs, beth rolls her eyes at that, “i don’t need to be attached to my girlfriend to show our love” beth defends, “the kisses are nice, beth” you smile, looking up at leah with a smile.
beth chuckles and seems to give in, you and leah giggle as you watch beth run over and latch herself to viv, watching her struggle for a bit before giving up and pulling her into an embrace similar to yours and leah’s.
“we should be couple’s therapists,” you rest your chin on her chest, looking up at her with a soft smile. she kisses you softly again, “we can be whatever you want to be” she says cheekily, making you chuckle when her kisses make their way to your neck, jokingly biting you a couple of times to make you laugh.
whenever you and leah were in a large crowd, her true boyfriend nature came out that you just ate up. you were both at the pride of britain awards, her hand firmly planted on the small of your back as you walked around, posing for cameras on the red carpet.
when you two got pulled for interviews, leah tucked you into her side as you answered questions, she would focus on you intently, nodding along with your words and smiling proudly as you talked.
when you’d catch her gaze, her bright smile would make you falter slightly and you’d have to recover while her hand rubbed gently up and down your back.
you both answer generic interview until you approach a very special one. “it’s one nil” the interviewer says, leah and your eyes visibly widen, leah pressing her hand into your back as you both approached.
“are you joking?” leah smiles, “no it is!” the interviewer exclaims, “arsenal?” leah questions excitedly, “did you hear that?” leah grins at you, “yeah, baby i did” you chuckle affectionately, your head falling to her shoulder for a minute while she chats excitedly with the interviewer.
“this girl bleeds arsenal” you smile up at her, she nods without a second thought, showing off her earring with a proud smile.
“so, leah, if you had to pick between (y/n) and arsenal, who would you pick?” the interviewer says jokingly, though leah takes it seriously,
“now, hold on, i’m gonna go with my girl in arsenal, without a doubt” she says smugly, seemingly proud of her answer.
you laugh brightly, kissing her cheek fondly as she grins, “she was joking” you laugh, leah looks down at you cheekily, “don’t care” she taunts, her hand moving to rest on your hip to answer the rest of the interview.
you both got invited to an after party, making your rounds together with bright smiles, seeing people you haven’t seen for ages.
everytime you would talk to leah, she would bend her head to your level to make sure you were speaking directly into her ear, not wanting to miss out on anything you say.
and so, when you mentioned to leah you wanted to go home, you both left promptly with leah leading you out.
another instance of your girlfriend just radiating boyfriend energy was when you both needed to go on a bus for the lionesses on camp.
leah was talking to keira and georgia who she hadn’t seen in a while so you went on the bus first.
a few of the younger girls send you a wave so you go over with a bright smile. sitting next to maya as you entertained the young ones as they teased you about your love life.
it was until your girlfriend got on the bus with a little scowl at realising you left without her. “who do you think you are?” leah grumbles, grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the seat you were in to another one closer to the back.
you hear the laughs of the girls as leah drags you from your seat.
“leah!” you reprimand with a laugh, “who?” she whips her head towards you, about to shove you into the window seat.
“love,” you sigh, she smiles cheekily, “that’s better” she pushes you towards the window seat, draping your legs over hers as you both chatted.
leah snapped a photo of you and smiled at the result, adding it to her folder dedicated to you. “you’re so cute” leah coos, kissing you quickly and dropping her grumpy attitude. “you’re cuter” you grin, pressing another kiss to her lips before you snuggle up to her.
“i’m running out of storage” leah frowns, going to her camera roll and gasping at how many photos you have.
you lean over and gasp as well, grabbing her hand with the phone in it and looking at the screen, “baby, oh my god, what’ve you got in there” you laugh,
“i don’t know, let’s see” she makes you sit closer while you both went through her camera roll, laughing at some of the funnier pictures and shoving her phone down at the more explicit ones.
“i need to revisit this picture later” she winks at you when one of you and leah during that first day of captaincy. “leah cathrine” you warn, she smirks, “sorry” she coughs.
your heart quickened when you realised how many photos she had of you, making up almost all of her camera roll.
“lovey, you can delete some photos of me, half of them are duplicates” you chuckle, leah looks at you offendedly, “excuse me? they are all different” she scoffs, flicking between two nearly identical photos while pointing out little differences.
“babe, that’s the same picture” you laugh brightly, leah stifles her own laugh, “it is not! god, just break up with me then, you awful woman, can’t even have a picture of my wife in my phone without you on my ass” she grins,
“wife? i don’t remember you proposing?” you tease, “in due time, my girl” she smiles, kissing you breathlessly until you were completely flushed in the face.
“here, i’ll help you delete some photos,” you hold your hand out for her phone and she holds it instead, “you delete a single one and i’ll really break up with you” she mocks, you gasp offendedly
“i’m wounded” you pout, she makes quick work of fixing it with a kiss, “kissed it better” she grins, squeezing your thigh gently as your head fell to her shoulder.
⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆
you know the drill - just pretend it’s you, ily beffy
Tumblr media
liked by alessia and 44,232 others
leahwilliamsonn: she’s baby girl
view all comments
yourname: it was brilliant, it was powerful, it was leah williamson!!!!
↳ leahwilliamsonn: stop it
↳ yourname: never, it’s literally my job
↳ leahwilliamsonn: your job is football
↳ yourname: my job is annoying you for the rest of my life
↳ leahwilliamsonn: can’t wait xx
bethmead_: sick
↳ yourname: stop hating, bethany
↳ leahwilliamsonn: yeah, bethany
↳ viviannemiedema: yeah, bethany
↳ bethmead_: the betrayal
1K notes · View notes
csuitebitches · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Things I Have to do for My Sanity
1. Wake up at the first alarm - no snoozing and no going lying around in bed. Getting up straight away and head to the bathroom. It’s going to suck initially but you’ll get used to it in a few days.
2. Mental self care: 30 minute meditation, brain games mental math, reading, news. Knowledge is sexy and don’t deny yourself sexiness.
3. Daily review in my diary at the beginning and end of my day: what went well, what didn’t, what I need to accomplish to achieve my goals. This has tremendously helped my goals and keeping my motivation more consistent, especially at work. Analysing and correcting incremental changes creates long term success.
4. Cleaning up before bed - clothes, shoes, organising my bag, etc. I set a timer for 5 minutes and try to get as much done as possible.
5. Pick out my clothes the night before and steam iron them for the next day.
6. Face masks twice a week, a hair mask once a week, I scrub the soles of my feet with that foot scrubbing thingy once a week. Manicures every month because my nail beds are too sensitive to do it biweekly, iron supplements so that I’m not a moody bitch. Matching underwear to feel good about myself. Lavender spray on my pillow before sleeping so that I don’t get weird dreams.
7. Reading biographies and autobiographies. My mentor had suggested this to me and it’s amazing how literally I don’t have a single original experience - everything I’ve felt or mistakes I’ve made have already been done by someone else.
I’m going to curate a list of business books that I feel that have helped me the most recently.
8. I write a short essay everyday in the language I’m currently learning. I also end my day by talking about my day for at least 2 minutes in that language and I record it in voice memos to keep a track of my progress. I want to be fluent to a level where I can think in this language.
I don’t generally share a lot about my personal life - none of you know my name or where I’m based and I feel comfortable doing that. But I do want to start giving out more insights to what I’m doing personally in my career - the good, the bad, the ugly.
Being self aware and honest to myself has helped me improve a lot. I know that shame is my Achilles heel, so now I’m reading books to combat that. I’ve caved in and decided to try therapy for a bit to see if what I’m doing is useful or not. My first session is tomorrow. Staying disciplined was my initial hurdle but the systems I’ve set (waking up early + habit stacking) have helped me slowly overcome that.
Work side, I’ve started establishing myself publicly more. I don’t want to reveal too much about what I do exactly but the good news is that our biggest competitor has noticed my progress (a former employee of that company came to us for an interview and directly asked our top management about me). It’s been 4 months that I’ve been working here but I know that next year I really have to swing the bat and hit a home run. I’ve decided to work on the field more and less in the office to really understand people’s needs and create unique solutions.
The daily/weekly/quarterly diary is definitely credited to my recent wins. That’s the biggest change I’ve made in my routine and i can already see that it’s working well. I’m going to continue refining and implementing that method.
Recent work methods I’ve decided to start working on (I’m not required to do these but I do it for my growth):
1. I’ve started studying popular companies’ business and revenue models in detail. Everything is adoptable and adaptable, you just have to figure out how to tweak something for your company’s clients and needs. Now I’ve decided that I want to keep a track of our competitors, their business models, their owners names, pricing strategy, their target audience etc etc on an excel sheet so that I’m aware with what’s happening in the market. 
2. I’ve started making client profiles. Every time I meet a client, I note down their name, the company name, what they were like, anything specific they seemed to like or want, how much they had paid us for a service, what their paying capacity could be, etc. 
1K notes · View notes
hyewka · 7 months
Note
soobin + hybrid pls :33
⭑ warnings; hybrid!au, sub!soobin, blowjob, breeding, impregnation kink (this is filth good god), big dick soob, dubious consent somno
⭑ send in a small prompt with the format of (member) + (nsfw prompt) and ill write you a small drabble!
Tumblr media
owning soobin as your eccentric bunny hybrid who goes around humping literally everything you own, his favorite being your poor couch. you'd have to stop the poor thing from unknowingly going at it on your leg in pure daylight or when guests are over, thankfully after a while he learnt to control that part of himself, saving you from anymore future awkward encounters in public. you've searched and looked all over the internet for anything to help tone it down just a little bit but every pill that promises to get rid of it completely only does so for an hour or two before your bunny starts it again like the horn dog he is.
using your mouth on soobin was a home remedy that surprisingly worked for longer than a few hours and you're beyond surprised, he loves it. 'not gonna play with you like this again if you continue ruining my couch bun, know that right?' he nods and nods and he doesn't stop, his tongue out panting so dumbly as you squeeze the base of his bunny dick, satisfied with his obedience. so that marks the day you dump out all the useless vitamins and pills, emptying your bathroom vanity.
of course, all this really does is get him obsessed with you sucking off his dick, retaliating by ruining your couch even more. does he like the feeling of you punishing him? does he know that you're weak to his eyes and you always give in the week of denying his begging and pleading? yeah, you needed to practice some self discipline--your knees would thank you.
when week two comes around, and soobins sulking around everyday, trying his best to get you to give in, because he's so so addicted to the warmth of your mouth the moment you had got on your knees for him but you're really strict this time and he feels like he could cry. it gets even worse when he feels a fire in his tummy in the middle of the night, heating up rather quickly, and he groans. heat period, now of all days.
he really is cursed but bunny!soob is unhinged, he can't stand being hornier than usual so what does he do? he goes to your room, tries to think over his options but fuck it, he goes in, climbs in your bed, as careful as he can, he tries to make it quick, just a little bit of your warmth and your scent and god, he clumsily pulls down your panties in one go, dick standing up tall, rubbing against your cheeks and he's already sent to overdrive. you're murmuring, moving a little bit. when he looks over to check your face you're not opening your eyes, he sighs. he'd definitely get punished for life for this so he swears he won't cum at all and if he feels that he would, he's running straight to the bathroom.
unfortunately bun soobin isn't known for having self control, so when he's done prepping, rubbing your core and collecting at your arousal, he doesn't let your body get used to his cock, bottoming out, stretching you out to unimaginable degrees. if you pretend to be sleeping before, you aren't now.
"s-soobin, shit, d-do you wanna--get punished?"
he ignores all your threats to taking away his little blowjob privilege because this is a hundred times better, this is heaven. bunny soobin who really doesn't stop, he can't, he physically can't, his thrusts are erratic yet it felt like his stuffing cock was hitting your womb each time. you feel so full already, you weren't ready for what comes next. soobin promised to himself he won't cum, he can't or you'd kill him, but he's too far gone, his eyes rolling back as he feels his high coming rather quick. "wanna fuck a baby into you, please let me-- 'm cumming, cumming!"
he can't hear your protests-- it's all background white noise, he's just fucking into you, sopping sounds coming from your pussy as he mewls, your ass feels like it's bruised with how hard he slams into you, bunny's just sooo so obsessed with your cunt. and when he eventually cums, and you then later, he doesn't stop. you're past overstimulation with how much he filled you up, and yet he still keeps going and going, switching positions with him hovering over you with your legs pressed to your chest like all you were was a breeding bitch for him to spill his load in. all hybrid!bunny soobin does the night is plan to fill you up with his seed, cute scut twitching every time he jizzes lol >_<
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
bivht · 3 months
Text
Astrology Observations
tw: ED
A lot of people in my life with chiron-saturn hard aspects have one parent emotionally (or physically) absent and the other emotionally manipulative. Also common is intergenerational trauma/childhood trauma. This individual has difficulties relying on people for support. It sucks bc it’s quite a common aspect. I’d estimate roughly 25% of my class has this
Chiron-saturn hard aspects also make me think of someone with a wounded sense of restriction and discipline. In extreme cases it can lead to mental health conditions like eating disorders I.e. Karen carpenter with Saturn square Chiron. Eugenia cooney with Saturn opposite Chiron. Tbh this is more of an assumption, both individuals have mars square Saturn which could also be a factor
mars square Saturn is where the ability to feel motivated, take action, and progress is restricted by Saturn. And the square aspect makes it sooo difficult to overcome, it’s locked in place like a safe. Their sense of discipline is also kinda f’ed up. Potential to be self-punishers.
pisces moon with hard aspects to pluto can have emotionally manipulative mother in which the child believes their mother is their best friend but it’s really just an unstable relationship with lack of any emotional boundaries :/
moon-pluto/moon-saturn hard aspects is having at least one traumatic event relating to their mother by age 16
Venus-Chiron/chiron in the 7h can have a fear of people leaving them for someone better
Melpomene (18) conjunct pluto is so frickin’ powerful when they delve into tragic art such as sad songs/dance/writing. Melpomene is the muse of tragedy. Even if it’s a really happy or cute person, they’ll catch you off guard with their suitability in tragic roles
This is obvious but fatme (866) can have weight struggles
pisces moon is asking your mum for privacy and she says “I’m your MOTHER, I’ve seen you naked since you were a baby!”
virgo mercury is the definition of “oh no… anyway”
640 notes · View notes
apricityxoxo · 3 months
Text
Help and Care
Tumblr media
✧.* Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem! Reader
✧.* wc 5,786 (teheeheee)
✧.* summary: he definitely didn't need help, he doesn't need someone to care for him. no one has ever helped him before, and no one ever cared so why would they start now. he doesn't care, he definitely doesn't need help. so why does he keep ending up in the infirmary with the beautiful nurse? and why does he keep coming back to you?
✧.* contents: fluff, a bit of angst, and a sprinkle of suggestive dialogue
here's the whole story! it took me a while but I hope you all enjoy it, sorry I'm a perfectionist. I had a lot of fun writing this but let me know what you all think. i might write a pt 2 to this idk. Also pls excuse the medical and military inaccuracies
enjoy
Help. He hates help. He can’t stand it. When others look at him, when he looks at himself, he doesn’t see himself as someone dependent on others. Why else would he enlist, he didn’t need help, he learned that the hard way. No one ever helped him and he adjusted, so why would he need help now? People are dependent on him; they rely on him. When someone is injured, scared, or dead it’s up to him to fix the situation, to solve the problems of others, to carry the fallen.
When Price told him to go to the nurse he was upset, actually, he was pissed. He was not a child who scraped his knee playing football at school. He was a soldier; he was more than a mere man. He knew how to endure, he knew how to carry his weight, and he knew that he didn’t need to see the nurse. He knew what was wrong with him, he just bruised his ribs. He didn’t need some old woman with a bad attitude to tell him what he already knew.
He endured and he resisted the pain for exactly two weeks, but the pain was only getting worse. He was confused and didn’t know what to do, he hoped that no one had noticed and he didn’t want people to start. He didn’t want questions or concerns, he wanted relief and nothing more.
He thought no one would notice and he was so wrong.
Training.
Simon hated training the new recruits, they were cocky and they didn’t know their place. They thought after joining and passing the initial physical exams, they were done.
They were most definitely not done. They needed to adjust, physically and mentally, to fit in. Many people think the initial physical and mental exams are where new recruits break, no they break here, during training…with him. He hated it but knew why Price asked him to do it.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆❀⋆˚୨୧⋆。 ˚⋆
Price usually did rounds during training, he watched the recruits and the techniques of the other task forces. The smell of sweat, dirt, and blood filled his system and that smell drew his attention to Ghost. Today he felt the need to check on Ghost and see how he was doing. Ghost was a good teacher even though he didn’t realize this, Price did though.
Ghost was mean, harsh, and disciplined, and the people he taught tended not to last long, however, the ones who did turn out to be great because the one thing that Ghost teaches best is endurance.
When Price was watching him train, he started to get upset and confused. This was most definitely different from the big and bad Ghost he was used to. He thought at first that "maybe Ghost was pulling his punches?" When he paired Ghost up to train some of the rookies, he thought maybe Simon was finally going soft.
Usually after training, the rookies would be sore, and in pain, sometimes they might even need to be excused to nurse. However, these past few weeks the rookies have been surprisingly...fine. Maybe even better than fine and it's been making them cocky, it's boosted some of their egos.
It would probably boost his ego too, Price chuckled. If he were to beat the big, brutal, scary Ghost while still a rookie. However, they are starting to get obnoxious because they are taunting and boasting, which is certainly something that Price could not have. It was starting to piss him off. Price was going to tell Ghost that if he didn’t put these pricks in line, there were going to be consequences.
That was the plan, but then he took a closer look and that’s when he saw it.
He saw the way that Ghost taking more hits than normal, he was slow to react and he was even slower to respond. His stance was off as well, usually his form made him feel like a giant among men but now he looked like he was shrinking himself, like it was his first day of training. Ghost wasn’t pulling his punches, he wasn't holding back, he was weak.
Now he was pissed.
Price knew.
Price knew exactly why Ghost wasn’t as strong as he usually is, why his punches aren’t as powerful as they normally are. Ghost was a disobedient bastard and Price was pissed.
“STOP! That’s enough training for today, soldiers.”
“Ghost, come now!”
“Yes, Captain” Ghost replied in his thick Manchester accent.
“The hell is wrong with you Lieutenant!”
“Nothin' Capt’n, I'm just-”
“You’re just hurt, did you go to the nurse?” Price knew the answer.
“I didn’t feel the need to go to the medical facility Capt’n”
“You didn’t feel the need to go?” Price asked Simon and looked at him like he was crazy. Since when did his soldiers feel the need for an opinion?
“If you don’t get your ass to the medical facility right now, you’re going to be training these pricks for three months straight. You understand?”
“Yessir!”
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆❀⋆˚୨୧⋆。 ˚⋆
Unbelievable!
He doesn’t need to be here. As he walks to the nurse’s offices, he feels everyone's eyes on him. He’s rarely ever here and because of that it draws the eye, lots of them. He thanked his balaclava every day because without it, based on the face he was making, some might think he was actually nervous.
He doesn’t want some old hag telling him what to do and degrading him for not coming sooner. Some old nurse or doctor telling him everything he already knows just to insult him and show off their vast vocabulary just to try and make him feel small. that’s what they all do, that’s what his father did.
He approaches the front desk and the older woman tells him to go to office number 222. He makes his way over, navigating the hallways,  and he finds the office. The sign is decorated with small pink flowers and a white cat with a red bow. He resists the urge to roll his eyes.
Before he goes and knocks on the door, he dries his palms on his pants, desperately hoping to get over this.
Knock-knock.
Some time passed but then he heard a soft voice say…
“Come on in”
He opened the door and he was surprised that the soft voice matched a beautifully soft face. A face with beautifully unique features that worked together in harmony to make the beautiful woman that sat before him.
God damn.
Those were the only words on his mind.
It wasn’t an old woman who looked like she had a chip on her shoulder and carried a deep grudge, nor someone who looked like they were going to insult him… no. definitely not.
It was a young woman.
A beautiful young woman.
A beautiful young woman with the most inviting features. Absolutely gorgeous, he’s never seen a woman this beautiful ever on this base. He feels like she doesn’t belong here, her face is an exact contrast to the environment he surrounds himself every day. He has a million questions he wants to ask her, and he feels the strong urge to get closer to her. He’s such a creep. He doesn’t even know her name.
He feels his mouth goes dry and his hands sweat. Gross. He hasn’t felt this way since Secondary School, he feels like a dork and he doesn’t know what is wrong with him.
“Good afternoon, how can I help you!” Her voice was cheery and if he was a little bit more nervous, he wouldn’t notice the shock on her face and the tremble in her voice. He was used to that reaction; it was probably due to his appearance. her voice matched her face and he felt his heart beat faster, he finally was going to die.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆❀⋆˚୨୧⋆。 ˚⋆
He was just staring at you, he was just looking. You’ve heard rumors of him, of his personality. The big bad Ghost, the professional killer who lacks mercy for anyone. He was just staring at you and it was freaking you out. What’s wrong with him, why is he here in the nurse's office? Did he hurt someone? Or worse…
He’s still staring.
“… excuse me, is everything alright?”
“Erm…yeah, sorry” he responded and if your mind weren’t running a mile a minute you would have heard the way he sounded nervous.
He clears his throat and then replies “Captain Price has recommended I take a visit down here.” God his voice was so deep. He was so smooth, he had a thick accent that wasn’t like any of the others you heard on base. His voice was not at all soft but the way he spoke made something bubble inside you. 
Wait. ‘take a visit down here’
Oh. He needed help. 
“Oh… okay sir, what seems to be the problem?” You try your best to put on your customer service voice and hide the fact that you're wondering what this man might need help with. 
“Erm… last deployment I bruised my ribs real bad, don't know how…”
You try to listen, you have to pretend to do so. You're writing as he describes his symptoms. He has stomach pain, difficulty breathing, tenderness in his abdomen, and bruising. He describes his symptoms and you feel so bad for him and at the same time, you feel disgusted in yourself. 
Disgusted because instead of being focused on how he describes his pain, you focused on his attractive ass voice. You can't help it, you're just a girl. 
No, You need to remain a professional.
“Okay Lieutenant Riley, if it's all right with you, I’d like to examine your abdomen.”
“Yeah… that's fine” he sounds hesitant you feel bad… you feel like you need to reassure him.
“Don't worry lieutenant, I'm sure everything is going to be just fine.” you try to reassure him and when you do, you unconsciously give him a soft smile.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆❀⋆˚୨୧⋆。 ˚⋆
Well, you have to ask him to take off his shirt. That was something that didn't occur to you. He doesn't have to comply, you could do the whole checkup with his shirt on. You hope he doesn't so you save yourself from embarrassment. 
“Sir, if you do not mind, may I ask you to remove your um… t-shirt?” you ask, trying your hardest to remain professional. It's completely reasonable for a medical professional to ask a patient to remove their shirt when they had an abdomen injury.
“You don't necessarily have to I'm sure I can find a way to…”
“I don't mind” Lieutenant Riley cuts you off as he agrees.
He sits on the examination table and removes his shirt.
You think you just died. You are short of breath and you think you died because there's an angel right in front of you. If you were anywhere else you would admire his powerfully built body, but you were more concerned with the bruising on his stomach.
You feel and you touch his body, extremely concerned about his well-being. His stomach was black and blue, his stomach was sore, and he could barely bend over. 
You were worried but also shocked because this man worked and trained in such a condition for about a week. You knew of Simon Riley and you knew of his reputation and this just supported the fact that he's an absolute abled-bodied unit… it was almost scary.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆❀⋆˚୨୧⋆。 ˚⋆
“I believe you have a few broken ribs…sir.” You say almost scared of his reaction. He needed x-rays, actually he needed time off. 
“I'll recommend you an off-base X-ray Tech to take pictures of your abdomen, I also recommended to your captain that you take time off to heal. After we get your x-rays, I recommend you visit me every two weeks so we can look over your progress ” You tell him, distracted as you look over all your notes.
“Oh ok, every two weeks, and how long will it take to heal…” Luitenent Riley asked, he sounded nervous and you started to feel bad for talking to him so nonchalantly about his condition.
“Um should take about two months to heal. Ribs tend to heal rather quickly, however, since they weren't treated earlier it might take a while longer. Don't worry I’m sure you'll feel better rather quickly.” You try to give him a little bit of comfort. You give Luitenent Riley instructions, stating how to take care of himself and treat his injuries. 
He collects his stuff and is getting ready to leave before he turns around looks you up and meets your eye. 
“Thank you so much luv, ‘preciate it.” He tells you, in a soft accented voice.
“It's not a problem Luitenent.” You tell him and you feel your heart pick up its pace.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆❀⋆˚୨୧⋆。 ˚⋆
Week 2 
He was supposed to visit today, you were expecting him today. You had all of his notes laid out and you were just waiting. 
Waiting.
Waiting. 
Other patients came and went but you were still looking forward to one specific client. The first time he visited you had no time to admire his large and confident stance when he walked into the room. He walked into the room with utter confidence as if he knew it would have an effect on you.
AND GAHHH LEEE
When he removed his shirt, you don't know how you controlled yourself. You knew he was a big man with a hefty build but you were not expecting what you saw. Your eyes were blessed with a solid, broad-shouldered, athletic man.
The literal definition of manly, if he wasn't in the military you were sure he would be off somewhere chopping wood or something. If you weren't at work you're sure you would be lying in bed kicking your feet.
When he spoke to you he had such a deep and low baritone voice that was heavily accented. You never had a thing for accents but he was something else completely. Low and intimidating, his language was professional but you could tell that he was trying not to curse and use slang. It's embarrassing to think about the things you'd do to hear him, swear or even say your name. In your head you know you’d sound like a rabid dog if he’d said it in that attractive ass voice-
Then you hear your name and think you might die. Actually, it was your last name and your medical title. But still—
It’s him.
He’s here. 
Remain professional! you scream and shout at yourself.
You greet him and try to make small talk, asking him how he’s doing, how he’s feeling, and what he’s been doing with his time off. It's hard, he's such a beefy and attractive man. You can't even see his face but based on just the way he walks, you know he's fine. 
Admittedly, working on this base that’s far away from your home made you forget how to act around an attractive man…
“Been reading too, I'm trying to distract myself. If ya have any recommendations just let me know.” he interrupts your thoughts and you relate to him. It gets boring between deployment he tells.
“What do you usually do between deployments?” you ask, sincerely.
“Train, train myself then train with others.” He replies.
You don’t ask anything else, you know that he must miss training every day. The way he says it makes you feel bad. You know many of the soldiers find solitude when they work on themselves and train. It calms them and helps them recover, it's almost a form of therapy. Simon can't do that, not with his injury. You feel a pang in your chest. 
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆❀⋆˚୨୧⋆。 ˚⋆
You go over his notes and x-rays. You give him a checkup and note that he’s healing rather quickly, based on the other scars you know that this isn’t his worst injury. 
You catch his eyes when you are going over everything with him and explaining your notes to him. He’s looking at you with his golden green eyes, staring you up and down. You feel sort of embarrassed because you don't feel cute at this moment. You didn’t put makeup on in the morning, just gloss on your plumped lip and curled your eyelashes. Your wash day is coming up too so you wrapped your hair in a colorful scar today.
The way he looked at you was the way men would look when you would walk into a club. When you had a full face and your hair was freshly done. When you had a tight and short dress that would accentuate your beautiful curves. When you knew that you looked stunning that's the way he was looking at you, right now.
His visit was finished and you put the date for the next visit in your calendar. Before he leaves he thanks you.
“I don't like doctors but I appreciate all you've done for me, miss.”
“Thank you Luitenenent, if you ever need a book recommendation you can always come see me.”
“Thank you.” He tells you and even though you can't see his face, you feel a smile radiate off him.
You feel like he’s such a kind man.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆❀⋆˚୨୧⋆。 ˚⋆
Week 4
Today, on his next visit, he’s not as kind.
You know why. You can tell that he's antsy, that he wants to get back to work. He’s rushing the process and wants to do everything you told him not to do. He wants to disregard all the instructions you gave him. You’re used to that, soldiers want to get back to their daily routine and they’re itching to do something strenuous during the healing process.
You would be fine with that if it were not for his shortness with you. He was annoyed and that was completely acceptable but there was no need to be curt and downright rude to you.
His answers were short. After each question, while trying to make small talk he replied with a ‘Mmhmm’. He didn't make eye contact with you and when you would suggest activities for him to try and distract him, he would roll his eyes and brush it off. 
He didn't want to chat and you feel like this is not the same man, who came to visit last time.
Today’s visit was short, there was clearly no need for small talk on his end and no time for the flirting you wanted to do. 
You did yourself up today too and now that you think back at it, it feels like a waste of time. You enjoyed the visit you had with him last time you were looking forward to today's visit. However, that feeling quickly dissipated, when Luitenenent Riley came in with a bad attitude and short tone. You had no time for this today, you think you even returned that same energy. So the visit was short and he left with a slammed door following behind him.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆❀⋆˚୨୧⋆。 ˚⋆
Lunchtime came around and you were most definitely looking forward to it. After a long day, that wasn't even over, all you wanted to do was eat. You grab your book and sit in your designated corner to eat in the loud cafeteria.
You feel relaxed when you start eating and open up your book. The loud cafeteria with the chatter of men and women surrounds you. It's kind of calming when you think about it. The laughs, small talk, and clattering cutlery fade in the background around you. This is just what you need after such a long and tiresome day. 
You try to focus on your book but then you are interrupted by someone clearing their throat.
“Is this seat taken?” You glance up from your book, you find him standing there, his presence commanding attention even in the busy room. Lieutenant Riley is looking down at you with a food tray in his hands. He refers to the seat across from you and you shake your head no. You try to avoid eye contact when he sits down, still feeling annoyed from earlier. 
He lifts his balaclava over his mouth and you both eat in silence. There’s a growing tension around you both. 
You eat your food and busy yourself with your book, however you can feel him looking at you. He ate in silence, his eyes occasionally meeting yours before darting away.
It was irritating.
Earlier he was being rude and barely talking to you and now he was acting timid, the audacity. You started to pick up the pace and eat your lunch faster.
Then he interrupted his silence with his deep sultry voice.
“I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier. I was disrespectful to you when you were only trying to help. I'm sorry. I've honestly been sick and tired of sitting around and doing nothing that I took out my anger on you and for that, I apologize.” It sounded like he practiced this. It makes you smile thinking about the Ghost practicing an apology in the mirror. You can just imagine him practicing and it warms your heart that he put this much energy into an apology.
“Thank you for your apology.” You reply in a soft voice.
There was silence for a while but it was interrupted by your voice.
“Um…I know it's hard, not being able to do the things you used to be able to do. I'm sure soon you will be able to get back to your routine and do everything that you want to do… and more. If You need to talk to someone, you can always come and see me. ” You tell him, a bit timidly. All you want to bring comfort to him and reassure him.
“Thank you,” he replies.
“No problem Luitenent” you respond.
“Call me, Simon.”
That was the end of the conversation. There was a soft smile on your face, and you both sat in a comfortable silence, taking quick glances at each other.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆❀⋆˚୨୧⋆。 ˚⋆
Week 6
This next visit was much more casual than the previous two. Throughout the whole week before this upcoming visit, he’s been stopping by your office. 
In the beginning, he would just stop and say hello and indulge you with some small talk. Nothing more than checking in on you and asking how your day was. However lately, he’s been getting comfortable here. He’s claimed the large decorative leather chair in the corner of your office, closest to your desk. 
He would just sit there and talk to you about anything and everything. Conversations went from favorite foods to his most recent reads to how long you’ve been an RN. 
The other nurses in the building have gotten used to his presence in your office. When they come to visit or drop something off, his presence doesn’t throw them off anymore.  They’re used to the large man sitting comfortably in your office. 
Today was no different, he stopped by in the morning and you both got to chatting. An hour went by when it felt like mere minutes. Time flew by so fast that you almost forgot about his checkup.
“Oh!” You exclaim. “I'm such an idiot, I almost forgot why you were here Simon.” you shoot up from your desk and walk over to the examination table, slapping it twice with a big grin on your face
“Alright Simon, let’s get this over with!” You sell him with a large smile on your face. 
Simon slaps his knees and pushes himself off of the deep and comfortable chair. He makes his way across your office looking at all of the flowers around your office and the Sanrio Characters you have scattered around. 
When he gets to the examination table, just as you're about to move out of the way, he grabs your waist and moves you to the side. He lets his hands linger and he makes eye contact with you as he sits on the chair. 
You're certain he’s smiling under that stupid balaclava.
Cocky bastard. 
You clear your throat and attempt to focus on your work. The checkup only lasts a few minutes, he’s getting so much better. You would be so excited to tell him that he can start getting back to his normal routine, but you're distracted.
Distracted because he’s so touchy. First, he touches your waist, he must know that it has some sort of effect on you because then he touches your clothes. 
During the checkup when you need to do something basic and mindless, he grabs the corner of your coat and rubs yours between his fingers. When you speak to him he’s doing the same with your black scrubs.
“You can start getting back to your regular routine, like training and stuff. Don’t rush it or anything, just …baby steps'' you say, you move yourself to stand in between his legs.
“That right?” He asks but he’s not focused on what you say. He’s focused on your plump lips and you think it’s turning you on. His eyes slowly make their way back to your eyes. 
“Mmmhhh! But nothing too rough.” You reply looking back at him. You feel his hands make their way up your waist. 
“Not even a little rough?” He asks. You both start to lean closer and he takes one hand off of your waist and takes it toward his mask. 
Oh god! What is he doing? Is he going to show his face? Kiss you! Or maybe—
Knock Knock
The loud knock draws your attention away from Simon and you pull yourself away from between his legs.
You clear your throat and attempt to fix yourself even though you two have done nothing. 
“Come in!” You shout, voice cracking a bit. 
One of the more intimidating on-field military nurses enters your office. Unlike you, this nurse is trained for the field and it shows. She is tall with broad muscular shoulders, and she confidently walks into the room with a skeptical look on her face. 
She takes a look at both you and Simon before addressing you. Telling you that your presence is wanted somewhere else. 
“Oh okay… I’ll be there in five ma’am.” You reply and she makes her way out of your office with a raised eyebrow at Simon. 
“Okay, Simon! your next check is in two weeks and that’s your last one, congratulations.” You address Simon trying to make it seem like you don’t remember the moment you two had before you were interrupted. Simon stands and makes his way over to you, stops right in front of you, and towers over you. If he was anyone else you’d give them hell for popping your personal space bubble.
“Alright…Can I see you tomorrow?” he asks, looking down at you. 
“Are you injured?” You ask sarcastically. 
“Got a paper cut. That’s what I get for reading” He shows you his thumb and starts to chuckle. You laugh right along with him. You look up at him and nod, you smile while biting your lip. 
“See you tomorrow Si”
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆❀⋆˚୨୧⋆。 ˚⋆
Week 8
Two months.
He’s known you for two months and he still doesn’t know how to act around you. This past month he’s seen you almost every day constantly visiting you. He feels like every day he’s getting to know you better and better. You’re a genius, graduating high school and college early which explains why you're so young. You love this little Japanese cat thing that’s called Hello Kitty. Your favorite flowers are tulips, and that’s something that stuck out to him. 
Tulips stuck out so much that he used his last day of time off to go out off base and buy you some. Today is his last official visit with you but he most definitely doesn’t want to make it his last time seeing you. He wants to see you more, a lot more. He wants to see you outside of work, he wants to see you outside your work clothes. He wants to see you in jeans, a dress, in his bed—
He shakes his head, trying to stop himself from thinking like that. It’s disrespectful to you, he hasn’t known you for longer than a couple of months, and he can’t think about you that way. 
It’s hard not thinking like that. He thinks about his third visit with you, when you both were rudely interrupted. He thinks about what your waist feels like, what your face looks like. He thinks about it often, especially at night–
He cringes at himself, he feels like a teenage boy who’s never touched a woman. 
He tries to distract himself by looking at the tulips he bought for you. They’re closed and pink with long green stems. They’re beautiful just like you. He doesn’t understand, how someone can be so effortlessly beautiful. 
When you wear makeup or no makeup: beautiful. When you have your hair down and natural, sleek and bone straight, or up in braids, buns, or a scarf: beautiful. He can’t begin to comprehend it. 
Not only are you beautiful on the outside you have the personality of a goddess. You’re kind and compassionate but not afraid to snap back when someone gets out of line. That’s what makes him nervous, the doubts start flooding his mind. 
He’s still staring at the tulips when Soap enters his room. Unannounced. 
Soap comes into his quarters and scatters around the room. He looks in draws and under furniture, he's scattering stuff around as if he lives here. He is tossing his stuff around and looking in places he shouldn't be. Ghost hasn't even looked up, hasn't even acknowledged his presence. Ghost rolls his eyes so far back into his head when he hears Johnny whining to himself. 
“What’re ya lookin’ for Johnny?” He inquires in an irritated tone. 
“Lookin’ for my char–” He cuts himself off as finally looks up at Simon. He sees Simon slouched over his bed looking at the pot with pretty pink tulips and a wide, knowing, mischievous grin appears on his face. He looks like the Cheshire cat.
“Look at you Simon, those for that bird you've become so fond of…”
“Watch it Johnny” Ghost finally looks up, he's not pleased. Johnny continues like a mindless, careless, idiot.
“I've heard the rumors, some field nurse says she saw you two in her office…alone. Good on you Riley. Yer getting old now, ya deserve something like that. Herd shes a beauty too. ” He laughs obnoxiously at his own jokes. He slaps Ghost on the hard on his back and continues searching around his room
Ghost sits in silence for a while, thinking about Johnny’s words, he knows that he is joking, he’s not serious.
‘“Whatdya mean by I deserve something like that?” He finally inquires, the question was practically running around his mind. Johnny continued searching around the room as he answered his question.
“Well you know, ya have had a hard life. Yer always helping people, always trying to be the best, and ya never really had that soft life. I know ya don't think it but yer a good man and you deserve a good woman. We don't live forever so think ya should take the risk and do what you have to do… Are you sure you don't have my charger? He asked after giving some of the most meaningful advice that he'd ever heard.
“Get out,” he replied annoyed by his short attention span.
“Maybe Gaz has it,” he says and leaves the room as if nothing happened.
Those words resonate with Simon and he thinks about them for a long time. The time of the appointment was getting closer and closer. He couldn't stop thinking about it, about what he was going to say to you. He wanted to make it meaningful, he wanted to ask you out on a date. 
He wanted your friendship to continue and he wanted your relationship to grow and become more and more personal. He hasn't done this in a long time and he wanted it to mean something. 
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆❀⋆˚୨୧⋆。 ˚⋆
15 minutes.
He had 15 minutes to figure out what the hell he was going to do.
As he made his way down the familiar hallway toward your office, every step seemed to quicken the pace of his heartbeat. The clock was counting down, each second would go by, getting closer to the moment. In his hands, he held a bouquet of vibrant tulips. He knows that he is catching the eyes of the people around him but each person he passed seemed to fade into the background.
It felt like when he visited you the first time, his hands were sweating and he was nervous. He says ‘hello’ to the woman at the front desk. Even though her attitude has always been rude and uptight however he thanks her every day for sending him to office number 222. The number that completely changed his life.
Now, standing just a few steps away from your door, his mind blanked, and his carefully rehearsed words were completely forgotten. Doubt starting to flood his veins. His hands are sweating again, and his heart is beating a mile a minute. He doesn't know if he can do this, he feels like it is a mistake but his feet won't stop. 
They won't stop because even though his brain is telling him to stop, his heart won't let him.
It's been years since he's ever felt this nervous, he felt like he was going to have a heart attack. He finally arrives in front of your door and holds the flowers behind his back. He gets ready to knock and says a silent prayer to whoever or whatever higher being is listening.  
He knocks.
He waits a beat and then he hears your beautiful voice say “Come on in.”
Right as you say that without thinking Simon impulsively rips off his balaclava off his face and opens the door. He watches as you slowly look up and he swears he sees a natural glow around you. 
“Hi, how can I help you?”
He doesn't respond, instead, he slowly brings the tulips to his front and presents them to you with a soft smile. You look at the man and he watches as you raise an eyebrow, it's like he can see the clogs turning in your head. Then he sees the pieces being put together in your head and your face lights up.
“Simon?” You ask with a gorgeous smile.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆❀⋆˚୨୧⋆。 ˚⋆
giggling and kicking my feet
432 notes · View notes
riddlesb1tch · 5 months
Text
Opposites Attract
Part 1
Azriel x reader
summary: you’re messy and unorganized, love staying up late and sleeping in in the morning, so what’s going to happen when you’re forced to work with the shadowsinger, the most disciplined person you’ve ever met?
warnings: none!
a/n: this is the most I’ve written in a while but I’m liking how this is turning out. I feel like this could’ve been one part but I don’t really wanna write a 10k word fic so I’ve decided this is gonna be a series. hope you enjoy <3
~●○°●○°●○~
Azriel, by your viewpoint, had always only been the Spymaster, the epitome of propriety, with an excellent work ethic and an affinity for discipline. For that reason, you felt like you’d never get along with him.
You were messy, unorganized and a little clumsy on occasion. This always led to some interesting stories later on and a lot of teasing from the rest of your family. You pretended to be annoyed at them, rolling your eyes at their snide comments and making fun of their flaws in return, but secretly you loved when they let loose.
Azriel, however, never joined in on this teasing, despite the two of you having known each other for well over a decade. You assumed that it was your lack of discipline that irked him and so he chose to stay away but the High Lord didn't consider this before meddling.
it was a Sunday morning when, in your half-dazed state, you made your way to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.
"Y/n," Rhysand called from behind you.
You groaned in response, not bothering to turn around to face him. It was way too early to be seeing people.
He stayed quiet for a couple of seconds, no doubt waiting for a more proper acknowledgement of the High Lord of the Night Court. When he realized he wasn’t going to get it, he huffed and proceeded with what he needed to say. 
"I need some reports filed quickly so from tomorrow you're gonna be working with Azriel to get them to me by the end of the month," Rhysand stated.
Your eyes widened, now feeling more awake than the strongest coffee had made you in the morning. You whipped your head around to face the smirking High Lord, knowing fully well this wasn't an urgent task but a way for Rhysand and Feyre to intervene in your love life. The inner circle loved to joke that because you and Azriel were opposites of each other, you’d get along great. It was all fun and games until Feyre got obsessed with the idea of actually giving you and Azriel a try regardless of whether you and Azriel wanted to or not.
“Can’t someone else do it?” You asked. “Why does it have to be me?”
“Because everyone else is busy doing their work. Besides, Azriel will be a good influence on you. Maybe he can teach you some discipline.” That smirk was still on his face and you’ve never wished more for Feyre’s abilities to make animals out of water. You’d love to leave a bear on Rhysand right about now, but unfortunately, he was your High Lord and his wish is your command, so you settled for the next best thing. 
“Your shirt is covered in lint,” you side-eyed and walked out with your coffee cup in hand, leaving a gaping Rhysand swatting at his clothes. 
At least you still had the day to prepare yourself for tomorrow.
After training, you were in your room having just come out of the shower. Someone knocked on your door and you had a feeling you knew who it was but strongly hoped against it. You made your way to the door and right before you could open it, your foot caught in a shirt on the ground and you fell with a loud thud.
Grimacing, you stood up, rubbing your elbow where it hit the floor. Opening the door, you saw Azriel standing on the other side with a smirk, no doubt because of your fall. Gods you couldn’t even open the door without being clumsy. Meanwhile, Azriel stood his back straight, shoulders pulled back, wings neatly folded and hands behind his back. He looked like the definition of grace.
You truly were opposites.
“Y/n,” he nodded in greeting, ignoring the knowledge of your fall to save you from further embarrassment.
You smiled slightly in return.
“I’ve been informed that we’re working on the reports together till the end of the month,” he stated.
“That’s correct,” you confirmed.
He nodded. “Meet me in my study tomorrow morning at 8,” Azriel said and walked away.
You stood startled for a second before calling after him, “Eight in the morning? Are you serious?”
Azriel turned around with a confused expression. “Yes.”
“Who starts work at 8 in the morning?” You questioned in disbelief.
“I normally start work at 6 but for you, I’m starting late. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He gave a final nod of farewell before turning around and walking away.
You gaped, internally cursing Rhysand for putting you in this situation. For a person like you who preferred to spend nights awake reading, eight in the morning was like the middle of the night. You didn’t know how you’d survive like this until the month's end. Groaning, you shut the door and slumped face-first into bed. 
Cauldron have mercy. 
~●○°●○°●○~
The next morning came around sooner than you were ready for. You’d set an alarm for 6 so you’d have ample time to wake up, enjoy your morning coffee, take a shower, and be ready for a day of torture. However, when 6 A.M. rolled around, getting trampled by a horse in your sleep sounded better than waking up, so you snoozed your alarm and fell back asleep. 
When Mor burst into your room, you woke with a start.
“Good morning, princess!” she yelled, walking in wearing her night clothes still but looking as if she was ready for a night out at Rita’s.
“What time is it?” you gasped, frantically reaching for the clock at your bedside. 
Mor jumped onto your bed. “What's up?” 
8:02 A.M. 
“Fuck!” you screamed, jumping out of bed and running to the bathroom. “I'm late!” 
You shut the bathroom door, rushing about your morning routine, brushing your teeth, then hair, and slapping on some moisturizer. 
“Relax! He lives in the same house!” Mor shouted from your bedroom. 
You rushed out of the bathroom, reaching for the pair of shorts on the floor. “Yes, but we live in very different worlds,” you replied, slipping on the shorts and looking around for a shirt. 
Mor lay on your bed, head propped up on one arm, and looked at you with an amused expression. 
You threw on a random shirt you found in the closet and started to tie your hair into a messy bun. Mor took in your look and frowned. “Are we sure that top works with those shorts?” she asked. 
You looked at her incredulously. “I don’t care about that right now!” you exclaimed. “Where are my shoes?” you went on your knees to look under the bed and pulled out a pair of white shoes you’d kicked under there last night. You glanced at the clock while putting on shoes and cursed under your breath. 
“Girl, you know he’s not going to eat you alive if you’re 20 minutes late right?” Mor asked. 
“No, but with the amount of lecturing I'm about to get, he might as well,” you sighed, getting off the bed and finally heading out the door. 
“Good luck!” Mor called behind you as you headed to the door. 
“Thanks,” you replied and rushed outside. 
~●○°●○°●○~
Azriel’s study door was ajar so you peeked your head in to make sure he was there. 
Azriel was sitting in his chair, head down, looking over some paperwork when you walked in. 
“Good morning,” you greeted, going to sit in the chair opposite his. “I’m sorry I’m late.” 
Azriel looked at the clock then at you, and said, “You’re earlier than any of us expected, actually.” 
You were taken aback slightly by the statement. “Us?” you asked. 
“Rhysand, Cassian and I,” he replied. “In fact, you just cost me quite a bit by being only twenty minutes late.” 
Now you were straight-up offended. “You three bet that I’d slack off?” 
You felt rage towards Cassian and Rhysand for thinking so little of you, but you decided to deal with them later. For now, you were stuck with Azriel for a good eight hours, and those were not going to be easy if you were upset with him the whole time. So, you shook his words off and put on a smile. 
“So what are we doing?” you asked. 
750 notes · View notes
inkykeiji · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
anonymous said: i just wanna sit down on sukuna’s massive thigh. is that so much to ask?? character: ryomen sukuna notes: anon, i want to ride sukuna’s massive thigh so so so badly!!!!! and so of course i had to write something!!! warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, daddy kink, size difference, thigh riding, implied cureless!au, fem!reader, humiliation and degradation, toxic relationship, bit of noncon overstim right at the end words: 1.8k
Tumblr media Tumblr media
It’s custom practice, at this point, that Sukuna places you on his lap whenever he’s engaging in an activity that requires sitting; when he’s working in his office, when he’s in a meeting (because his precious little baby is always with him, no matter what time or place or occasion), when he’s reading, when he’s lounging, when he’s eating. 
It isn’t always in the same position; sometimes you’ll rest against him, your back pressed flush to his chest, one thick arm wound around your waist for stability; sometimes you’ll straddle his massive thigh, your face buried in his neck, lips painting strokes of saliva across his collarbone in messy little pecks, lashes leaving gentle butterfly kisses against his shoulder.
But irregardless of the situation and your posture throughout, if he’s sitting, you are there with him.
It is also customary that you behave while you’re in Daddy’s lap—no fidgeting or squirming, no whining or whispering, no complaints of boredom at all, and no getting down until he releases you. 
So it’s not a shock, exactly, that a low, dark chuckle rumbles beneath his ribs the moment your hips begin to rock—barely anything more than shallow ruts, something that might’ve been mistaken for an innocent restlessness, had he not known better.
But he knows you much too well.
“I thought Daddy had a rule against wiggling, sweetheart.” 
“Can’t help it, Daddy, swear I can’t.”
“Is that so?” he hums, flexing the muscles of his hard, defined thigh between your legs, snorting a little when you gasp. “And why is that?”
“M’horny, Daddy,” you whimper, nuzzling your cheek against the column of his throat. “Don’t wanna bother you, Daddy.” 
“Oh? And what makes you think this isn’t bothersome?” 
It’s not—you know it’s not.
Because as well as your Daddy knows you, you know him, too. 
His four simple rules don’t exist because he can’t concentrate when you’re on his lap—he most definitely can. If there’s one thing you’ve come to learn about Sukuna in the short but intense time you’ve been his, it’s that he retains an exceptional amount of control over himself—body, mind, and soul—and it’s a fact he takes immense pride in. 
Because, sure, Sukuna may live for the pursuit of pleasure, a hedonist in the purest sense, but that doesn’t mean he can’t control himself, his self-discipline and restraint sharper and stronger than a tungsten needle when he wants it to be. 
His four simple rules are all about power. 
Doesn’t mean they’re going to stop you, though.
Your hips are still shifting, cunt pressed flush to his thigh with only a thin layer of lace separating it from his pants, slit sliding along his firm, strong muscles in slow, hard strokes.
“Are you sure one pitiful little orgasm from pathetically humping my thigh is worth it?” 
No, you’re not. One measly clitoral orgasm probably isn’t worth the hefty punishment that’s going to follow, but you’re too sleepy, too needy, to care. 
An indistinct little noise vibrates at the back of your throat, head moving in ambiguous motions, rubbing thick cords of drool across his shoulder, leaving tiny webs shimmering on cashmere.
Your hips roll with more purpose, falling into a steady rhythm of rocking—back and forth, back and forth, smearing your cunt along the sleek muscle between your legs.
It already feels so good, using his thigh to stroke your clit in repetitive motions, the cotton twill of his trousers providing just enough resistance to make the friction delicious, a dull, dense heat flooding the pit of your stomach.
“God, look at you,” he scoffs, a peculiar mix of disgust and devotion saturating his voice. “Trying to fuck my thigh like you’re some sort of animal.”
Exhaling a snort, he jiggles his thigh in accentuation, sneering a little at the choked moan you try so hard to snuff out, pleasure clawing at your tongue.
“I guess it doesn’t make much of a difference to a desperate little slut, does it? My sick little girl will take whatever she can get, won’t she?” 
Your head nods lethargically, smearing your own saliva over your chin.
“Aren’t you embarrassed to be acting like this? So eager, so ardent.”
“Jus’wan’ you, Daddy,” you slur out. 
Because it’s true; you just want him, in any way you can have him. 
Maybe you really are just a dirty, desperate little slut. Maybe it doesn’t matter either way.
“You know, I can feel your slick soaking through my pants,” Sukuna says, lips against the curve of your ear, dark, low voice reverberating against the cartilage—little tremors that snuggle into your flesh, skittering down your spine in a shiver. “It’s fucking disgusting, how wet you are from this.”
It is, he’s right, an obscene amount of arousal already staining his leg—far too much to be decent, to be normal, don’t you think, baby?—the copious amounts of slick making the grind along his strong muscles effortless, lace molded to your drenched folds and soiled all the way through, leaving a large gleaming patch on the material of his trousers, fabrics gliding together easily, aiding in your motions as your humping gains speed.
“Do you hear yourself? Do you hear how fucking lewd your cunt is?” 
You do, of course you do, vulgar squelching echoing out among the home office with every buck of your hips, sopping clothes sloshing together, procuring a sick sort of gurgling.
It’s so humiliating, salacious sounds complemented perfectly by his silky laughter, but you can’t stop, movements accelerating to hard, quick gyrations of your hips as you lose the friction of his pants, now too slippery to be anything other than teasing.
His derisive remarks, coated in icing sugar, do nothing to tame the blaze in the pit of your tummy, his voice like kerosene, flames flaring with every word that drips from his mouth.
“You’re so easy, aren’t you? Easy to please, easy to pleasure, all you need is something nice and firm to rub your cunt on, huh?” 
“Feels good, Daddy,” you mumble against his neck with another clumsy nod, words weighted with spit. “Feels s’good.”
“Yeah, I can tell, baby,” he snorts. “Look at how fucking sloppy you are!” 
Leaning back a little in his office chair, he looks down at where you’re conjoined, a soft whine slipping from your lips at the loss of his chest. A thick layer of sheen coats his thigh, turning the charcoal shimmery in the beams of sunset streaming through the windows. His tongue clicks against his teeth in a disapproving tut, as if it’s such a shame that you’ve ruined his trousers so terribly. 
It really is, though, sticky substance having accumulated on his pant leg so much that it’s merely collecting atop the material now, unable to soak any further. You whine again, yearning to bury your scorching face, pricks of humiliation stinging your cheeks.
“I should make you lick it up, honestly,” he muses to himself, humming a little at the prospect. “Such naughty little girls should be made to clean up the messes they make, don’t you agree?” 
Aside from the light notes of beguile infusing his voice, he sounds normal—calm and unaffected—and you’d think him to be, too, if you couldn’t feel his massive cock, hard and straining against expensive slacks, brushing against your thigh with each of circle of your hips. 
It twitches a little with every gentle graze of your body, but Sukuna does nothing to pursue it, nothing to satisfy it or solve the problem, too focused on you to care.
Your arms wind around his neck, bringing him back to you with a discontented little mewl, and he laughs again, going willingly. 
Always so needy. 
You’re really riding his thigh now, vigorous enough that the wheels of his office chair shift against the hardwood, Sukuna planting his feet more resolutely, keeping you both in place, muscles pulled taut with the motion.
Damp little moans seep into the skin of his neck as your hips work, each one pushed from your throat on an airy little gasp, and he can tell that you’re close.
Because that’s so easy, too—you’re so fucking obvious with it, with the way your thighs keep tensing around him, almost as if they’re trying to readjust their grip; squeeze him tighter, hump him harder, siphon his thigh up further, urgently chasing that building high.
That heavy heat is amassing in the pit of your stomach, sinking into your gut as it grows with every swivel of your hips, hotter and hotter, higher and higher until it feels smothering, sweltering, engulfing you from the inside out and weeping through your pores, ragged little pants of his title exhaled from parted lips. 
“You’re such a perverted little girl,” he murmurs in your ear, voice deep and decadent, tinged with just a hint of amusement. “What would everyone think if they knew how sordid that pretty little mind of yours really is? All of your university professors who praised you so much, all of your esteemed colleagues at work, how would they feel to know of your true nature?” 
“They’d be disgusted,” you sigh out, almost dreamily. 
A chuckle rumbles behind his ribs, rubbing his jaw line along your temple in a possessive caress. 
“Yeah, they would. And you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’re so sick.” 
“Only for you, Daddy, always for you, Daddy.”
“That’s right,” he purrs, hands finally finding their rightful place on your hips, so massive the tips of his thumbs overlay your ribs. “Now be a good dirty girl for Daddy and make a mess all over his thigh, sweetheart.” 
And that’s all the permission you need, really. 
Oh, it’s so cute, the way your cunt clenches against his sculpted muscles, the way he feels your hole flutter eagerly around nothing as wet, sticky warmth floods his thigh, the way your clit throbs in time with it, pressed tightly to his leg.
You’re whimpering out his name, skin clammy and glittering with sweat, tiny dewdrops beaded along your temples catching in the waning sun rays as you snuggle into his jaw, pliant and languid.
But Daddy isn’t done with you just yet.
The hands on your waist flex, blunt nails carving deep crescents into the flesh—latched onto you, firm and stable, using his grip as leverage to force your hips to keep moving, even as they start to jerk.
A hiss is spit through the gaps of your teeth, sharp and sudden, whole body recoiling from the involuntary overstimulation. Shudders ripple through your flesh in vicious bouts as Sukuna aggressively rubs your sensitive cunt along his leg, pressing his thigh upward and grinding strong, defined muscle into your aching clit. 
“Daddy!” you wail, clinging to him despite the agony, fingers twisting knots in his immaculately pressed dress shirt. “St—ah!—S’too much, it hurts!” 
“Oh, poor baby,” Sukuna pouts, oozing condescension. “You didn’t really think Daddy would just allow you misbehave in such a manner and get off without some sort of punishment, did you?” 
No, you didn’t; of course you didn’t, but—
“Quite stupid, my pretty girl is,” he shakes his head with a chuckle, spikes of ice prickling your spine. “You wanted to ride Daddy’s thigh, so you are going to ride Daddy’s thigh, over and over and over again until your cute lil cunt has been rubbed raw, until Daddy decides it’s enough.” 
947 notes · View notes
saturnrevolution · 10 months
Text
Jupiter through houses
Jupiter in the 1st house
You are a curious person, always looking for the next activity that will help expand your identity. The negative manifestation of your Jupiter sign is a tendency to focus a lot on other people’s perception of you and allow opinions to say who you are. When you are in your power, you don’t express yourself by societal definitions, but create new ways from within. You are also vouching for justice and you take life as an adventure. Most blessings come to you when you are willing to learn, when you are open to knowledge, you travel and explore through experimenting. You create your own luck by shining bright.
Jupiter in the 2nd house
When it comes to receiving from the Universe, you have this ability to allow abundance, especially material and financial, to come to you. You do this best when you are letting things unfold, when you are living in the present moment and have a positive outlook on life. It’s important to follow your values and philosophies. Financial gain can come to you fast, but you can also spend it just as fast. So, it’s important to be disciplined in your ways, while still allowing yourself the freedom to do whatever you want. Invest in things that help you grow and build your independence, as later on you might be a strong pillar for others.
Jupiter in the 3rd house
Your words matter, sharing your wisdom with the world is part of what brings you luck and abundance. There needs to be a fair balance between what it is you speak up on and how much you hold in. You can find wealth in your hometown or home country. Short distance travels help you refresh your mind and put you in a good mood. You could become a teacher or coach, however you need your words to be heard. You have the ability to manifest through your thinking, so know that negative thoughts will expand in more negative thoughts. Write them down and let them go, then focus on the things you are grateful for to succeed.
Jupiter in the 4th house
Your luck comes from your ancestors. Your lineage is protecting you and wants you to succeed. Whenever you spend time connecting to your roots, your culture or living place, you discover new sides of yourself. Speaking on your goals with family and loved ones helps you manifest them. You might sometimes get stuck in a victim-like mentality, so make sure you are surrounded by people that support you. Having a home that makes you feel inspired is crucial, decorate it in a way that helps you shine. Spending time in your own comfort is restoring, but taking risks is too. You might move abroad or live abroad one day.
Jupiter in the 5th house
Whenever you nurture your inner child, you are on the path to success. You are someone that enjoys the little things in life, that wants adventure and passion. You are creative and talented, and your expression speaks louder than words. However, sometimes you might take your talents for granted and not nourish them enough. While it’s amazing to have fun, discipline would be a game-changer for you. You sometimes find abundance through romance, but do not give your power away by not setting boundaries. Value yourself. Take yourself on dates, do those things you loved as a child, your passions and dreams will unfold.
Jupiter in the 6th house
There is nothing more healing for you than living with intention. Caring for your body and health, offering yourself what you need is putting you on the right path. However, overindulging or over-worrying or stress puts you off your path. This is why, the best approach is to create a routine that you truly resonate with. Find the things that work for you on a daily basis, listen to what your body needs, and find ways to make every activity feel like it was made for you. You like music? Listen to it while you cook, offer love to little things, and you will gain it back. Your ability to get disciplined will offer you success.
Jupiter in the 7th house
Why is it that others are able to see your warmth, but for you, it’s much harder? Whenever you connect to others, you spend time with people that make you smile and feel empowered, you thrive and attract abundance. Abundance can come in the form of people too, collaborations, projects that just take off. However, if you spend your energy on people that drain you or make you doubt, you will attract more lessons. Your knowledge is contagious, accept the side of you which thrives and allow positivity to come in. This way, you will live the life you have always imagined and attract love from in and out.
Jupiter in the 8th house
Some people are scared to dive deep. But not you. Your inner world is one of the most valuable tools you have. If you focus on your negative feelings towards a situation, those feelings will grow. However, if you focus on what makes you feel good, what offers your life meaning and purpose, you will attract blessings. You have the ability to shine alight on what seems dark, you have the ability to trigger people in realizing what they need. Whenever you research into the occult, taboo subjects, or you bring up difficult subjects, you are able to make others feel seen. Just open up more, people are waiting for your ideas.
Jupiter in the 9th house
You are a teacher and a student of life. You are someone who is able to create wonderful stories through living their life and then share their knowledge in concepts that inspire others. You are able to change paradigms if you allow yourself to truly believe in your philosophies. However, you need to also open yourself up to other people’s ideas as a way of relating to people. You attract blessings through studying, travel or reading. While your experiences are important, be careful not to get so lost in this search for meaning that you neglect those that want to be a part of your success. Stop and look back at times.
Jupiter in the 10th house
You career is where you are lucky and will receive blessings in this lifetime. You have the ability to reach your goals, as many opportunities are aligning for you. However, it’s yup to you to decide which ones are here to help you grow and which ones are selling a false promise. You could be a leader or thrive in a management position. The best way to reach your success is by not getting carried away with work so much that you forget to play. It’s in those moments of rest and contemplation when inspiration comes to you, and when you offer yourself the space to push forward. Dream big, rest bigger.
Jupiter in the 11th house
You are blessed in this lifetime with many life-changing connections. You have the ability to create friends wherever you go and to seek their support whenever you are in need. However, be careful with setting boundaries. When you feel you are tired or you simply want to be alone, allow yourself that space. Blessings come to you when you spend time in communities of people that share the same interests as you. You could easily become influential online by speaking on your beliefs. Allow growth to happen by trusting your authentic self and showing up as it in front of others. You could also become an activist.
Jupiter in the 12th house
Your inner wisdom is the most subtle thing about you, but also the most valuable. Whenever you take decisions based on your intuition is when you thrive. You have the ability to evolve spiritually, if you just allow yourself to face your shadows. Sometimes it might feel as though it’s harder to tap into your luck, but the truth is that the power lies in your hands. Daydreaming can be a great tool of manifesting, although sometimes you might forget to take care of your body. Find a balance between the ethereal and the physical world and you will thrive. Meditating and breathing techniques are your best friends.
1K notes · View notes
redtsundere-writes · 4 months
Text
Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen
Tumblr media
mma fighter!sukuna ryomen x femalecoach!reader
Part 1. The King Of The Ring.
| Next →
Spynosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Warnings: Cursed words. Sexual harassment. I only read it once, lmao Word count: 2899 words. A/N: Hiya! Well, I am up-to-date with Jinx, and even tho it's so fun to read, I just fucking hate Joo Jaekyung so much! So, I decided to kinda write my own version with my favorite toxic man. Hope you like it, folks!
Tumblr media
“Sukuna Ryomen, ladies and gentlemen! He demonstrated again why he is the king of the ring!” The excited narrator exclaimed, meanwhile the king flexed the golden belt around his waist after another amazing fight. 
His body was glossed with sweat, his lips were smiling proudly and the blood of his opponent was sliding down his skin. A dangerous beast who just caught his prey. They showed the repetition of the final hit in slow motion, a perfect punch in the perfect moment. Luck doesn’t exist in the world of mixed martial arts, we have unique opportunities instead. I also used to believe that luck didn’t exist, until I witnessed it in person. 
“It’s here,” I thought out loud when I saw the giant sign that read Team Black MMA Gym in bright white and red letters. 
It was the most important MMA gym in Tokyo. I heard that they only accept the fighters with most potential of the country. My trainer told me that I should try out but, as a woman, I wasn’t particularly interested in entering a male-exclusive gym. The only woman there is the physiotherapist. 
I took the elevator to the gym’s floor. When the doors opened, the smell of sweat and the sound of the metal weights welcomed me. I just stepped inside, and I had already eyes of me, was expecting it to be honest. A woman in a gym filled by rugged men isn’t something you see every day. It didn’t help that I was using an oversize gray hoodie which covered my shorts, making it seem that I wasn’t wearing any pants. 
The gym was divided is training areas. In the corner, there was a real ring that stood tall for fighters to simulate real combats. Along the gym, there were several punching bags, weight stations and resistance equipment. Also, there were more areas designed to practice different fighting styles. 
The sound of the punches and kicks, mixed with the instructions of the coaches, created a threatening and energetic environment. You could easily notice who were the fighters with discipline. Those were working hard to perfect their skills, showing off their determination in every move. The place was impregnated with a spirit of self-improvement and sportsmanship, where the passion for martial arts was in every corner. 
“Welcome, miss.”  A tall blonde man called me.
“You must be the manager, Nanami Kento,” I greeted with a bow, which was reciprocated. 
“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person,” he greeted back. “Let me introduce you to your trainee.” He leaded the way through the heavy equipment to the outstanding ring. 
Sukuna was simulating a fight with another member of the gym. Nanami and I just waited for them to finish so he could introduce me. Sukuna was constantly moving towards his opponent, creating closure enough so he could punch him better. The power difference could be noticed from what they were wearing. Sukuna was just wearing a black compressed shirt and gray shorts, meanwhile his black haired opponent was wearing the gym uniform and all the protection equipment available. 
It was a different experience watching live the king of the ring in action. The details like the sound of the punching winds and how Sukuna’s muscles flexed with every move were lost on the TV. When Sukuna threw a definite left jab that left his opponent in the floor, I couldn’t help to gulp hard. He was a killing machine. 
“Great job!” Nanami applauded along some other fighters who were witnessing the fight as well. I clapped so I didn’t look so out of place. 
Sukuna turned to my way and a grimace of disgust appeared on his face, a total stranger with no pants on. He took his gloves off and throw them to my feet. “So this is how it is going to be?” I asked myself, not even bothering picking them up. Sukuna gritted his teeth when I didn’t react. 
“What an awful cleaning lady you hired, Kento,” Sukuna disdainfully said. 
“She is not a cleaning lady! She is your new coach,” Nanami introduced me, ashamed by the attitude of his star athlete. 
“Kick her out, I don’t need a new coach,” Sukuna groaned. 
“If I knew this was going to be like this, why am I here?” I asked myself in my mind, starting to take back my decision of becoming the coach of a well-known fighter with anger issues. Ah, I remember now. I needed to see something for myself. 
“Hello? Am I talking with y/n?” A couple of weeks ago, Nanami Kento called to my gym, desperate. 
“You are talking with her,” I answered, thinking he was a recruiter or someone in the UFC. 
“Great. My name is Nanami Kento, and I am Sukuna Ryomen’s manager.” A famous fighter in the MMA world. The world champion in the light heavyweight division. The king of the ring and a wild tiger during interviews due to his lack of humbleness. A horrible person to the simple eye, a magnificent opponent in the ring. 
“I’ll be straight forward. I don’t if you saw his last fight…” Sukuna’s last fight was in Las Vegas against Suguru Geto, another amazing fighter. The interesting thing about that encounter was seeing two great fighters specialized in opposite areas. Geto specializes in floor fighting, meanwhile Ryomen is an incredible boxer. Everyone went crazy when the fight was announced, could Sukuna beat him with just his bare punches, or would Geto be able to bring him down to his advantage?
In the middle of the fourth round, Geto pulled him to the floor and Sukuna was in problems. Obviously, Sukuna has some training in floor fighting, but he that wasn’t enough when you are against the best. Sukuna tried to set himself free by the force, but his punches weren’t good enough to win the fight. 
“It will be a technical knockout.” I thought out while watching the fight from the comfort of my living room. I was eating chips mindlessly until I saw a unique opportunity. 
Sukuna, in some way, could free himself from Geto’s strong grip. With great momentum, Sukuna delivered a precise punch to the jaw that completely knocked Suguru out. I jumped from the couch to watch closely the repetition. I had seen Geto do that chokehold a thousand times, no opponent can just simply free themselves like that. My eyes couldn’t believe how clean that punch was. 
“The thing is that his coach and I believe he must improve his floor techniques,” Nanami explained the situation.
“There are many more renowned trainers who specialize in floor, why me?” I asked, curious at the whole conversation. I have heard rumors that Sukuna is pretty picky with whom he lets in his gym. 
“You are right. You have been the tenth coach I had called today,” Nanami honestly answered. “Sukuna is too stubborn and doesn’t want to admit that he was also beaten in his last fight. He goes out of his way to get rid of every coach we bring him.”
“Why do you think I will accept?” I asked. If he was calling me, a woman, there’s must be a reason. 
“If I believe someone can humble him and teach him some discipline is you,”  he declared. 
An offended smile appeared on my face. I wasn’t going to let Sukuna Ryomen treat me like if I was a slack to deal with. Now I understood why every coach gave up on him, you cannot train something that doesn't want to be trained, but you can tame it. 
“Sukuna, we already talked about this. You should train with someone who specializes in floor so what happened in Vegas doesn't happen again,” his coach said, Satoru Gojo. A tall white haired man in an all black coaching uniform. He was standing beside him with his arms crossed, clearly stressed from dealing with his bratty attitude all day. 
“What happened in Las Vegas stays in Las Vegas. I don’t need another stupid coach,” he defended himself while he brushed his hair back with his fingers. 
“You win, I won’t train you,” I said in defeat. I turned around and was making my way to the elevator. “Either way, I don’t train assholes,” I said with a sly smile. A howl from the fighters who heard me echoed through the gym. 
“Stop!” He barked. I turned around to see what he wanted. 
“You didn’t want me to leave?” I asked, trying not to smirk. 
“What did you call me?” He dared me to repeat myself. 
“Did Geto hit you so hard that you went deaf? I said, you are an asshole!” I shouted from my place. 
Nanami quickly got to me so I behaved better, but I couldn’t back down now. Sukuna scoffed and snapped his fingers at me. 
“Get up here,” he demanded as another fighter gave him back his gloves. He wanted to fight me.
“You don’t have to, miss,” Nanami warned me in a whisper. 
“I know what I am doing, don’t worry,” I answered in the same volume. 
I put the teeth protector I brought with me on my pink shoulder bag. I wrapped my hands in bandages while Sukuna was analyzing me from top to bottom. It was understandable, I was a dangerous wasp in his bee hive. The rest of the fighters stop training to get around the ring to witness the match. When I finished wrapping my hands, I took off my hoodie, revealing my abs and toned arms. Some whistle and applauded as if I was a stripper, when I could shut them up with a kick in the nuts. Sukuna, in the other hand, just kept staring, looking for weaknesses. He was being serious. 
“You better not be wasting my time,” he angrily barked. His red eyes still looking me from head to toes without shame. 
“You are already wasting mine,” I answered. Sukuna smiled, offended.
“We are really going to let this fight happen?” Nanami asked Gojo.
“It looks like it's the only way he will accept her,” Gojo said before stepping inside the ring. “Touch gloves so we can start.” I placed my gloves in the middle so Sukuna could bump them, but he just backed away. “Fucking pussy” I thought, backing up to my side. 
A small audience formed around the ring for an unusual show. A light heavyweight champion against a random girl that just showed up. It looked like the possibilities of winning weren’t on my side. I started moving my legs and arms to relax my limbs. If Sukuna was a lion, I had to be a fast gazelle. His preying eyes were on me all times. I smiled at him. He could look me everything he wanted, he didn’t scare me. It was my time to show him who was boss. 
“Fight!” Gojo shouted. 
There is a gold rule in mixed martial arts: “The first hit is the most important.” Sukuna flew towards me with a superman punch. He was open. I dodged it fast enough so I could jab him against his left cheek. The surprised audience gasped collectively. Sukuna quickly got used to my rhythm and changed his posture towards me. I created distance between us, so I could evaluate my options. I didn't have any other option than going for his legs, but that wouldn’t be a simple task. His legs were too strong to just swoop him off his feet with a single kick. I needed to do something more drastic.
Sukuna kept closing the distance between us to punch me directly, he was looking for the knockout. He was more of an offensive than defensive fighter, like I already knew. Sukuna hit me a couple of times that were celebrated by the public. They stung with power and intense pain. He was giving the best of him. I needed to answer with the same power, but in a more clever way. 
I kicked him in the stomach so he could back down, but he pushed my hand down just in time, so my kick didn’t connect well. I tried kicking the other side, this time he stopped me by grabbing my ankle. Big mistake. I impulsed myself with my other leg to kick him on his face to knock him to the floor. Sukuna fell with a big slam that made the whole audience to howl in surprised. 
I quickly got onto him to lock him down against the mat with my legs around his neck and torso. He tried getting up, just like with Geto, but I wasn’t going to let him. This was the only chance I got to beat him. I could listen to Sukuna growling under his breath. He punched me against my sides, but I couldn’t give up. I latched my left leg on his right arm, making him turn around slowly. The audience screamed confusing instructions to Sukuna because they knew if this continued like this, the fight was over. I made Sukuna turned around on his belly. I reached for his head, so I could chokehold him in between my biceps. The screams kept getting louder, but I didn’t give a damn. I needed to end him, if I wanted a place on his gym. Sukuna started to breath with difficulty while this hands tried to loosen up my powerful grasp. He was reliving what happened in Las Vegas. 
“Come on, Sukuna! Finish this!” Gojo ordered among the hollering. Sukuna sighed and obeyed. He tapped my arms three times in surrender. A technical knockout. I quickly released him and I stand tall, leaving him space so he could breathe. 
“y/n “Medusa’s snake” y/ln is the winner,” Gojo announced while raising my arm in victory. The fighters applauded me in approval. I took my dental protector to breathe comfortably through my mouth. Even though I won, I wasn’t finished. 
“Good fight…” Sukuna groaned under his breath, giving me his hand to shake. I did shake it, even though he was visibly mad. I could understand why, I just kicked his ass in front of his entire gym. 
“This means you will train Sukuna?” Nanami asked me with hope in his voice. 
“No, I said I didn’t coach assholes” I shrugged. Sukuna’s face turned from angry to offended in a hot second. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you?! I am a world champion, you should be honored to train me!” He shouted on my face, but I didn’t budge. He wasn't upset that I had to train him. Now, he's just mad because I didn't want to train him anymore. We were making progress. 
“I am not interested in training the world champion of assholes,” I seriously said before putting my hoodie back on. 
I hung the bag on my shoulder and quickly walked away from the whole situation. I dodged the other fighters on my way out. Nanami kept following me, asking me to reconsider the offer. I took the elevator, leaving the chaos behind me. Once the doors closed, I collapsed against the wall behind me. Fighting against Sukuna was an entire workout. The bruises started to show up in purple hues, my legs were trembling weak, and my lips were begging for water. Dealing with Sukuna wasn’t an easy task. 
The elevator’s doors opened on the first floor. I stepped out just to rest my body for a minute. I took my water bottle out to drink some while I waited. What I was waiting for? I really didn’t know, but I needed to wait for someone to come chasing after me to beg me to stay. Maybe it was going to be Nanami, Gojo or any other fighter. It could be anyone. 
“Wait!” The last person that I thought would come for me said behind me. It was Sukuna. He looked tired and agitated. He was wearing a black hoodie, and he wiped the sweat off his forehead. 
“What do you need, asshole?” I asked without taking the straw off my mouth. 
“Don’t call me like that,” he groaned. 
“I will once you stop acting like one,” I said, putting my water bottle aside. Sukuna rolled his eyes and sighed. He was so done. “Now you know that you need me?” I asked with a confident smirk. 
“I don't need you, but you are good. I want you in my team,” he corrected. 
“Fine, with one condition.” Sukuna raised his chin at me to continue. “You must accept that you are terrible in floor fighting.” He laughed at the “absurd condition.”
“I am a world champion, I am not terrible in floor fighting,” he angrily said. 
“It’s not good to lie so much,” I said, replicating his tone. I turned around to exit the building. “If you don’t want to fulfil my condition, I can’t train you.” 
“Wait!” Sukuna grab me by my arm to stopped me. “Fine,” he sighed again. “I am terrible at floor fighting, are you happy now?” I turned to him with a bright smile on my face. 
“See? That wasn’t that hard.”
“Hush,” he groaned, clearly embarrassed. His cheeks were a bit flustered, it was kinda cute.
“When do we start?” I asked with a proud heart. The Medusa’s Snake had beaten another terrible man. 
“Right now,” he pulled me with him, back to the elevator.
Tumblr media
Next Part→
Masterlist.
Order your own fanfic!
Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!
417 notes · View notes
crimsonbubble · 4 months
Note
Hi! Liu Kang thirst anon, back at it again with another thought about my mans. Like, we all seem to unanimously agree that Liu Kang’s an absolute sweetheart and the softest dom to ever dom, but I kinda want to flip the script a little bit. Like, I want to see what he’d be like if his partner decided to deliberately push his buttons and get him to snap so he’ll punish them. I still don’t see him being mean about it, but I definitely see him as a brat tamer, and I think he’d honestly be amused by their antics. But yeah, if you want to write it, I’d love to see Liu Kang taming a bratty partner, thank you and ily! 💜
cw. nsfw, gn!reader, brat taming, spanking, slight degradation *not proofread, just pure horny
[im crying but not from my eyes]
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I love soft dom liu kang
But I also love seeing normally calm and level-headed men snap
Soft dom liu kang has my heart but the thought of him getting irritated enough that he resorts to ‘physically’ disciplining you drives me crazy
First off, it takes a lot to get him angry
And I mean, like a lot
He has an insane amount of patience, given that he is a god
He starts with soft chides and gently redirects you
He laughs along with you as you pull another stunt
But his actions get slightly more harsh as you continue to poke and prod at him
You can see that you’re getting to him by how he crosses his arms over his chest and the tightening clench of his jaw
He gives you barren glances, his tone of voice becoming more stern
But the second you hear the screech of his chair being pushed back as he stands up abruptly, you know you’ve done it
He is quick to drag you over to his desk, holding your wrists against your back as he bends you over the polished wood
Uses his other hand to drag your pants and underwear to rest just below the curve of your ass
The type to say “If you utter a word, I will start over.”
And he’s a man of his word
The second you speak after he starts, he pauses for a moment, letting out a deep breath
He can hear the shit-eating grin on your face as you laugh
He starts again, this time harder than the previous attempt
You interrupt again, but this time he swats at your ass with the strength he has never shown you
The level of strength that he only uses in kombat
You’re sure that he’s gonna leave a mark
He doesn’t stop until there’s a sufficient amount of marks on your ass, tears streaming down your cheeks and pleasurable sobs raking your body
He’ll revert to a calmer mindset and apply a soothing gel to your sore skin
He’ll take care of you before carefully sending you on your way
But don’t worry, he’s nowhere near done with you yet <3
Tumblr media
451 notes · View notes
Note
Hi lea!!!! Can you write about an clarisse la true x apollo!reader
Clarisse got in trouble for something (what's new tho) and got a punishment of helping out with the little demigods art class for 2 weeks (or however long) the volunteer teacher is reader. At first Clarisse did NOT wanna be there she acted like a baby for the first few days but after she got more involved and started to understand she enjoyed it (she would never admit it), she started talking to the kids more (she totally has favorites, reader has to constantly tell her dont be so obvious about her favorites 😭) it got to a point where the kids would start talking to her outside of class. Also Clarisse definitely doesn't develop a crush on reader. AT ALL. SHE DEFINITELY HATES HOW PASSIONATE SHE IS ABOUT THE KIDS AND ART AND HOW GOOD SHE IS WITH KIDS SHE DOESN'T THINK ITS CUTE AT ALL. SHE DOESNT THINK OF THAT CLASS AS ONE BIG FAMILY. I mean what???? Who said that???
Anyways when it's time for her to go reader takes some of the kids to make a goodbye sign for clarisse; clarisse takes her 100% not favorite kid on a secret mission to make an 'I'm staying' sign. Then reader and Clarisse present them at the same time and it's all cutesy!! After class, reader asks clarisse on a date via showing her a pain she drew of them on a date and hopes she gets the message!
Thank you! :)
you got an artist inside you - clarisse la rue
Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary where clarisse finds herself falling in love with a girl over paintbrushes and a punishment
fic type fluff
pairing clarisse la rue x fem!apollo!reader
word count 1.8k
warnings none
Tumblr media
The camp was usually sleepy, quiet, and mostly empty apart from a few stray campers training here and there. But with summer already beating down with a burning force, it was full of kids running around, training left right and center, and all-in-all just general chaos.
So with the burning heat came grumpy older campers, which meant fights.
And a fight at lunch is what led to Clarissa having to help the younger campers with art class, with the co-teacher being none other than you, Y/n L/n, counsellor of the Apollo cabin. Additionally and otherwise known as the girl Clarisse was smitten with.
"Clarisse La Rue if you don't stop whining like that right now, I am going to smack you," you grumbled in utter frustration for the fifth time that hour, when she complained to you about some kid not cutting the paper the way it was supposed to be cut.
For a child of the god of war, she was such a wuss sometimes.
"But they're not following-" she began to protest, but a smack upside the head with a roll of wrapping paper shut her up.
"They're seven year olds in a summer camp art class," you emphasised on those facts. "They're gonna do their own thing!"
This was how the first few days went. She complained, you disciplined both her and the kids. But once she got used to the whole routine of you both giving instructions and the final products having irritatingly distinct variations, she cooled down.
If this was going to be a punishment for the next two weeks, she might as well enjoy it.
The art room, as usual, was a mess. Glitter was everywhere, coloured pencils were strewn around, papers were on the floor, blackened and trampled on. The strong scent of glue made everyone a bit woozy, and there was enough shouting for supplies across the table to give even the calmest camper a sensory overload.
Clarisse sat in the danger zone where the most glitter was being thrown around and spilled, and her soft skin was already glimmering with purple and red glitter as she tried restoring order. However, instead of yelling as usual she was laughing along with the little kids.
One kid in particular, you noticed, she helped far more than the others. A Hephaestus kid named Dennis, who was the sweetest little thing with big, round glasses and bronze hearing aids that you had Charlie customise so they looked like metal elf ear tips.
You pulled Clarissa aside and scolded her with a smile, “Clar, you cannot pick favourites!”
Clarissa loved your smile with everything she had. So naturally, she was so captivated by it that she didn't hear you the first time. Nor did she register the scolding.
"Excuse me, but Dennis deserves special treatment--" She began, but you cut her off.
"No, he's just like the other kids, okay? Just make sure you don't pick favourites, please," you sighed and walked away, going back to showing the kids how to make paper butterflies.
But you're my favourite, she thought to herself. She wished she had the courage to say it out loud, admit her feelings for you, but she couldn't.
Later, as time went by, as days of standing in clouds of glitter and glue fumes began and ended, Clarisse found that she was apparently likeable. After classes, during training, during dinner, she'd have little kids pulling her sleeve to talk to her, she'd have kids randomly hugging her at odd times of the day, or giving her small artworks like a wonky bird or a odd-looking Cerebrus. It shocked the campers beyond belief.
But for you it just made your love for her grow.
One day during class, a Demeter kid named Flora started to cry because glitter went into her eye. You rushed over immediately and helped her up, holding her in your arms as you took her to the basin to clean her up.
"Shh, don't cry, baby, it's okay, I'm gonna wash it out, alright?" You said softly.
"Guys, focus on your work, Flo's fine," Clarisse said, clapping her hands to direct the staring kids back to work, her eyes fixed on you as you washed Flora's eyes with water gently, telling her that she should not to go so close to the page when blowing glitter off in the softest voice the child of war had ever heard.
You were so gentle, like the softest summer breeze which didn't make the leaves rustle, but cooled one's warming skin. You were so precious, with your soft smile and loving words. Your voice was sweet like honey, no matter who you talked to or how.
If your voice was bottled, she swore to the gods that she'd get drunk on it every night.
"You okay, champ?" She asked, gently ruffling Flora's soft brown hair as the girl sat down. "You're a strong girl, aren't you? Showed that stupid glitter it's place."
You giggled at the way she spoke, covering your mouth with your hand to hide it. It was ridiculously obvious that Clarisse thought the kids in the art class were like family, and it was genuinely so adorable.
Seeing her like this, curly hair pulled back in her red bandanna, arms splattered with paint here and there, with glitter shining off her smooth caramel skin with every movement she made into the light, lit up something inside of you. Seeing her without her usual scowl, pulling funny faces with the kids as she showed them how to draw a monster, made your heart beat twice as fast.
However, two weeks went by with heartbreaking speed, and before she knew it, she was in Chiron's office, listening to him gleefully say she was officially un-grounded.
But honestly? She didn't share his happiness.
Nor did you.
"What?! Already!?" You exclaimed that evening as you sat in your cabin at your desk, which had plans put out for what to make for the next art class.
"Yeah," she grumbled, lounging on your bed. "I hate it."
"That's rough, but it's okay, you can always hop in to volunteer,"
"What do we tell the little ones?"
"The truth?"
"You're fucking crazy if you think they'll go with it,"
"I'm out of options, Clar," you leaned back in your chair and put your hands over your eyes. "I love that class, and I love teaching art."
"I know, and as much as I hate to admit it," she sat up. "So do I."
The very next day, Clarisse rushed to Chiron and begged him to let her stay for that class. Even going to lengths that she told him how she felt for you.
"Fine," he relented. "You can stay with the class for as long as you'd like,"
She'd never run to the forges to find a kid so fast.
"Beckendorf!" She exclaimed, looking at the cabin counselor. "Hey, where's Dennis?"
The boy looked around, and his eyes landed on Dennis, who was inquisitively watching one of his half-sisters mold a few practice swords, helping occasionally with putting the swords in water.
"Dennis!" Beckendorf exclaimed, "Clarisse wants to talk to you!"
Dennis immediately ran over, grinning broadly, showing his gap-toothed smile. "Hi, Clarisse!" He said, excitedly.
"Hey there, big boy!" She smiled back, giving him a high five. "So listen, I'm going to need your insane artistic skills and your help..."
While you did help the other kids make a 'goodbye' sign for Clarisse, on the side you decided to confront your feelings.
You knew you liked her from the beginning, from when you first saw her infectious smile, from when you heard her deep laugh reverberating through the empty Apollo cabin on days where you both would plan lessons.
She held the key to your heart, she knew her way past your walls. She clearly also knew how to remain in your thoughts, subconscious and conscious, to the point where you found yourself in the art studio, canvas on an easel before you.
Thoughts of her, of feeling her coarse, battle-worn hands on your skin, of gazing into those deep brown eyes which were like the colour of the rain-kissed earth, and when she fought were like the evening sun, golden enough to put the wings of Icarus to shame, made your paintbrush move. It made your colours flow like the blood in your veins, made each stroke perfect enough to create the scene you most desired on the canvas in front of you.
You stepped back once you felt the need to express yourself flow away, gazing at the canvas. A scene it held, and what a scene indeed. The sky was cornflower blue, a cloudless day, with the sun’s rays shining down on a big oak tree. The leaves were paler as the golden light kissed the surface, casting sharp shadows on the pillowy grass.
But then there was vivid orange and red, a flash of bronze. In the foreground there sat both you and Clarisse, the latter having more detail than any part of the drawing.
Then the dreaded day came where you all had to say goodbye to her.
The little ones were devastated, not letting Clarisse go anywhere without following her around like baby ducklings, making her explain to them that she's not going away from camp, she's just not going to teach them anymore.
At the end of the final class, just as everyone unveiled the 'we'll miss you' poster, she and Dennis revealed their 'I'm Staying' poster, causing a loud, thunderous cheer to erupt from all of you.
Later, you pulled her aside to give her your canvas painting.
Nerves wracked your body, your palms began to sweat.
When was the last time you had felt this nervous? It was probably your cello recital the day you had come to camp...
"Holy shit, Y/n this looks absolutely amazing!" Clarisse exclaimed, taking the painting in her hands.
She didn't miss the detail you had given her, drawing her angelically, despite her thinking she was the opposite. It was so well done that the brush strokes weren't even visible.
Please get the message, you blockheaded, oblivious fool...you thought.
Deciding to act against your nerves, you asked her in a shaky voice, "That's a painting of us on a date...would you like to go on one with me sometime?"
Clarisse's heart stopped. Had you just asked her out on a date?
She was at a loss for words, they didn't touch her tongue, nor did they pass her lips. She stood there, speechless, gaping at you for a moment too long.
"I mean, I get it, you're probably not even a les--" you began, but a pair of gentle lips on yours silenced your words.
Sparks flew, butterflies went haywire, your brain short-circuited. You didn't know what to doo, just stood there frozen with shock. Kissing the girl you had liked for the last few months now.
Clarisse, however, was ecstatic. Her mind was a burst of colour, her body was ablaze. She felt like she had wings, and her heart was taking her up, up, up.
Once she pulled away, she winked at your blushing face and dopey grin.
"It's a date, L/n."
Tumblr media
hi, it's me! lea! i hope you enjoyed this long overdue oneshot <3 requests are open via dms or asks!
244 notes · View notes
calicoheartz · 6 days
Note
need need need more nsfw hc of Caitlin
Tumblr media
Caitlin Clark hcs ; nsfw edition
Tumblr media
꣑୧ — summary | nsfw hcs of Caitlin Clark !
— warnings | NSFW under the cut ! read @ ur own risk !
my master list ㇀♡
a/n : old draft !! sorry for not posting much lately ;( life is getting to me LMAO! Anywaysss enjoy ◡̈
Tumblr media
definitely is a pleasure top. Prioritizes your pleasure over anythinggg else
i hc her as a switch , don’t get me wrong she absolutely loves taking care of you (and is dom like 75% of the time) but also loves it when you take control! she finds it so hot oml
not a strap girly (don’t cancel me!!!) i just feel like she’d rather feel herself in you. She loves having you get off on her tongue , but i mean she has 10 fingers of a reason…
her favorite place to leave hickeys on you is in between your thighs. where only she can see them
is super into sweet & soft sex , I don’t hc her as much as a aggressive partner during it
best believe ur having the BEST sex after a win
as far as kinks go…
i feel like she enjoys disciplining you , if you’re being a brat in public ; best believe ur in for it when you get home 😆
loveeees edging u! definitely wants to give u the best high / orgasm possible ! and (plus she loves the faces u make while you’re under her)
wants you to sit on her face 🤭
random ;
determines how many round you do based on how many points she loses by…
will deff tie u up if u asked !
is pretty open to try new things , down for whatever whenever
I don’t hc her as a super kinky person. Shes definitely more vanilla but not entirely
okok im deff gonna do a Paige version of this !! I feel like she’d be easier to write these for ngl… as always tysm for reading !
Tumblr media
221 notes · View notes