#how can the world of men have let me here...
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Fishy Business (Mermay'24)
Mermaid!Soap x Reader
4k words - masterlist
Cw: injuries, smut, oral sex, unprotected p in v, monsterfucking(?, let me know if I missed any 💙
Johnny has been living in the tank for two weeks now.
Discovering mermaids were real, shock the world, but in all honesty, only for a couple of days before the evil human mind started to think of ways to profit out of them.
Luckily, mermaids were not stupid and knew perfectly fine that they needed to stay away from the human reach; almost able to smell the putrid aroma of ill intentions pouring out of them.
But no matter how good they hide, humans still find the way to, even if not on purpose, to damage the ecosystem. And when you get the call that a mermaid got his tail tangled on the propeller of a boat and needed urgent care, you weren't really surprised.
You sent your instructions, so the poor thing could get the needed treatment while you made your way to Pentland Firth.
It only took you a couple of days to reach John Price's aquarium. Gruff, big guy that offered the empty tank at his fish sanctuary to keep the merman until it got released.
A solid handshake was his welcoming greeting when he opened the door and he let you into his house. “It's nice to finally meet you, Doctor. You’re making quite a name for yourself lately.” He said, a kind smile on his face making his beard move with it and wearing a funny looking hat more fitting of a sailor on his head.
“Well, not so hard to do so when there is so little competition in mermaid care.” You answered, not completely lying. Little was known about the mermaids, and almost every paper that got published was the first of its kind. Your name just happened to appear on most of them.
“Then I can assume you know your way around them? Sneaky little shits, with kind eyes and sharp teeth.” He said, a chuckle leaving his mouth as if he just remembered something.
“To be completely honest, you have probably seen more than me.” You admit, as you walk next to him, trying to keep up with his pace. “I hear they are quite a number up North, they must like the cold.”
“They like the lack of people.” He almost interrupts you with a low unhumorous chuckle. “This one swam a wee bit to the south… and look what happened.”
You see him shake his head, as if he felt guilty himself of the creature getting hurt. “Anyway, ready to meet him?” He asks, the kind smile back on his face as he takes a corner. He opens the only glass door on the hall, and with a hand on the small of your back, he lets you into the platform sitting over the water surface inside of the tank.
The metal platform rustles with the weight of the man walking alongside, only stopping when he walks up to the man standing at the end of the gangway. Standing just a couple of feet away from them you are able to comprehend their size, massive men, broad, strong, muscular, tall men. They definitely don't look like the classical marine biologist who would own a fish sanctuary.
But then the water splashes, making you look to where the surface of the water is rippling, but without any sign of what causes it.
“Simon, let me introduce you to the doctor. Doctor, Simon here has been the person in charge of following your instructions.” He slaps Simon's back hard, it reverberates against the tank walls but the blonde looks like he didn't even feel it. He is wearing a surgical mask and the rest of his body is covered by a wetsuit. A little contradictory thing.
“Nice to meet you, Simon. How has it been?” You ask, smiling as you look up at him.
“Like givin’ a stray cat a bath.” He mumbles, shaking your hand with a strength that has you trying your best not to shake with it.
“And him? How is it?” You ask, trying your best to be professional and not act like a kid in a candy shop. But the truth is, this is the first time you are going to interact directly with a merman.
“Hm… Like a stray cat that got splashed with cold water.” He says, shrugging his shoulders.
“You are good with metaphors…” You mumble, hearing Price snickers behind you. “So… not really happy with the treatment, then?’
Simon shakes his head, looking back into the water. “Nah, the sashimi shit doesn't want anyone to touch him, and his tail is looking more and more grey as days go by.”
You hum, nodding as you turn to also look into the water. “I'll work on some antibiotics to pour into the water… it won't be as effective, but it'll be a start.”
Price turns as well, all eyes on the water looking for the creature that seems to have disappeared into the water. Camouflage abilities are not to be dismissed taking in consideration how little is known about them, but if Simon was just dealing with him, they should be able to see it.
You look into the deep end, the hairs of your nape rising when you feel eyes on you. But the water in front of your eyes is empty, not a droplet moving out of his place and the only thing you can hear is both men breathing next to you.
“How does he look? Maybe if I have a mental image I can-”
You don't get to finish your sentence, at least not before you feel a wet hand wrap around your ankle and pull it. Hard.
It doesn't give you time to use your hands to stop the fall before your chin knocks the metal of the ground, the skin bursting at the hard hit. A single drop of blood mixes with the water underneath before two pairs of hands grab your arms keeping you from going under the water.
At the pull of your body, you feel sharp claws rupture the surface of your skin where they are holding you, only stopping when Simon stomps his foot right beside yours, threatening to step on him next.
“Enough, Johnny!” He snarls at the creature, standing between you and him, while you cling to Price's legs. If you end up underwater, you are not going alone.
It is hard for you to focus your sight on anything, panic and pain mixing in your system. Only being able to see the creature when you hear him hiss at Simon. The stray cat comparison of Simon being really appropriate now.
The merman captivates you, looking perfectly human, still knowing that no human would stand so high over the surface in open water like him, your brain forcing you to remember the fish-like tail under the water.
You can't bring yourself to pull your eyes from him, both your hunger for knowledge from finally being so close to a real breathing merman and both for the fine specimen of a man staring you up and down like you will be his next dinner.
It's Price the one that pulls you away, helping you on your feet and keeping his arm around your waist to help you walk without resting weight on your foot as he walks you out of the tank. Behind you, and without you noticing, Simon and Johnny share a knowing look, only broken when Johnny gives him a short nod before sinking back in the water, the taste of your blood still floating on it..
It's already night time when you hear the noises, like a piece of furniture falling against the floor. And against your better judgement, you walk, well, limp out of the room you were laying down in.
Turns out Simon and Price are not the only ones living in the sanctuary, and there is a third man called Kyle who was the one that bandaged up your foot and chin.
The ground trembles under your feet as you walk closer, each step you take letting you know with more certainty that the sound is coming from Johnny's tank. You see it before he sees you, standing in the shadows behind the glass door as the merman swims in circles.
Gaining inertia before slamming his body against the wall of the tank making it shake. You see his nostrils flare with his troubled breathing, the grills on his neck moving just as fast. It's such a worrying behaviour that your doctor brain makes you act on it before you can realise how stupid of a decision it is.
You turn the knob opening the door, barely managing to get a foot in before a deep voice startles you. “What th’ fuck did ye pour intae th’ water?! I'm fucking drowning!”
It takes you a second to realise it is the merman talking to you, muscular chest rising with each hard breath as his arms, big enough to crush a skull, hold his body over the water surface.
It also takes you a second to realise that what he means is the medicine in the water, the pungent taste of the chemicals probably making him struggle to breath as normal as before.
“It's the antibiotics.” You answer, almost mumbling. The lights from the tank making the water reflect into the walls in a beautiful imaginary that almost works to trick your brain into ignoring the danger. “For your tail.”
“My tail is perfectly fine! I dinnae need yer bullshit! I need tae go back!” He shouts back, slamming his fist on the metal like a petulant child.
“It is infected! If it enters your blood system you could die!” You shout back, setting both feet a step further into the tank.
“Lies! Human inventions! I'm perfectly fine!” The water splashes around his body when he waves his tail to push himself further out of the water.
“If you were fine you wouldn't stink of rotten fish!” Another step closer to him.
“I dinnae stink! That's just how I smell!” He sits on the gangway, pushing his body out of the water to do so, the massive tail that forms his lower body making the metal creak under his weight.
The sheer size of it doesn't stunt you, it being just proportional to the width of his upper body. But the scales that cover it, dazzling with the light of the reflections and looking like its own miniature sea. Speckles of blue, green and silver dancing around making it hard to look away from it, and making it impossible to miss the pink colour of the exposed meat. Not grey anymore.
“It is already looking better…” You explain, pointing to his wound as you keep walking closer. “You cannot tell me that it doesn't hurt less.”
He follows the direction you point at, quickly moving back so it is under the water; away from your gaze and making you frown at how little time you had to stare.
“That's just because time went by…” He says, almost mumbling and averting your gaze. “I need to go back.”
“Why?” You ask, the volume of your voice also lowering as you bend down to sit, crossed legged but with the injured one still sticking out. “Somebody waiting for you?”
“Yes!” He raises his voices once again, exasperated with your ignorance of his issues. “Everyone is fooling around, and next year when they all havd their wee bairns I'll be alone and I dinnae wantae! 'n' I cannae dae nothing about it cause a'm stuck here!”!”
His words slowly clicks into place, his eagerness to leave, the specially shiny scales, wandering outside of his territory. “It's mating season… mermaids have mating season?”
This is not the time to be asking these questions, you are here to help the merman heal not to study him like an aquarium specimen. But you can't help yourself to ask, only second guessing yourself when the merman looks at you like you just grew a second head. “Obviously… humans dinnae?”
You stare at him, thinking it thoroughly before answering. “Not… really, no.”
“And when do humans mate?”
“...anytime”
The disgust appears on his face as if you had just insulted him and everyone he has ever loved.
“Ye spend th’ whole year shagging, and then have the balls to call us beasts… hypocrites.”
“It's not like that!” You exclaim, suddenly afraid of disappointing the beautiful merman. There is a split second in with you remember every singles fable that talk about dangerous mermaids are, how they lure people in with pretty songs and prettier faces only to get eaten alive, how they trick sailor man to crash their boats in the rocks and then they have a feast on the corpses.
The alarm bell is loud and clear in your head, but just as easily it gets silenced when his wet warm hand lands on your injured foot, right under the bandages. He looks confused at it, eyebrows furrowed and slight pout on his lips.
You shouldn't let him grab you, last time he didn't drown you because Simon and Price picked you up. But you are alone now, and instead of pulling your foot back, you lean in, closer to the creature, and peel the bandages up, showing him the wound.
“I did this?” He asks, his fingertip grazing the skin surrounding the wound. You nod at him, your eyes glued to his face not wanting to lose a single expression of him. He furrows his eyebrows again, his hand moving to rest on the underside of your calf. “Humans are weak… I barely touched ye.”
“We are not weak… You just have sharp nails…” The sound of your voice makes him pull his gaze up, catching how you scratch the skin close to the wound of your chin, the sting from the stitches making you itch.
He pulls your leg again, softer this time, and it should worry you more with how much ease he is able to move you, with a grasp of your foot he easily slides you closer, leaving your feet hanging over the water.
He lays his hand flat beside your leg, propping himself up out of the water. With his arm completely stretched he towers over you, making you pull your head back so you can see his face. He looks down at you, cocking his head.
His other hand finds his way to your jaw, pulling your head even further back so he can see the wound on your chin. You can't see him with the new angle of your neck, but you can feel him get closer to your throat.
The feeling of his breath on the skin of your neck makes every hair on your body stand on end. The alarm bells ring in your head again, this man, as handsome as he is, is still an apex predator in the water that would be able to dismember you in seconds if he wanted to.
Still, and with that knowledge in mind, you have to bite your tongue to keep any tell-tale sounds from escaping you when you feel his face so close to yours.
"I dinnae do this one.... Are ye going to stick to yer theory that ye'r not weak? Or are ye just soft?" his deep voice murmurs, causing a shiver to travel down your spine.
His hand that was on your jaw moves down, resting on your thigh for a second before squeezing the soft flesh. Moving up slowly, dragging it over your skin to your hip, his thumb anchoring itself in the crease of skin between your thigh and your belly. Squeezing the flesh once more making you jump.
As his hand continues to move up, squeezing and whispering against your neck. "Soft... Soft from head to toe.... See? Soft, soft, soft..."
With each repetition of the word, he grabs a different part of your body. Your thigh, your hip, your tummy, your waist and it is when he reaches your chest, his hand wrapping around the soft flesh of your breast that he finally gets a sound to fall from your lips in the form of a faint moan of his name.
"What is it, my soft girl? I can feel yer pulse rising..... It's not fear, innit? Or something… else?" The whine that escapes your lips echoes against the walls of the tank, encouraging the merman in his movements.
The merman presses his wide body between your legs, forcing you to spread them apart to accommodate his width. And before you are able to form a full thought, about everything that is wrong with your actions; how morally wrong, how dangerous, what this could mean for your career... you feel the man's wide tongue travel from your collarbone to behind your ear, scorching your skin with the heat of his body.
Your hands grip his shoulders on impulse, feeling the strength leave your body as you feel him roll his hips against yours.
His assault on your neck continues, nibbling and licking until you instinctively wrap your legs around his hips. By the time you realise you are lying on the platform, opening your eyes to see the massive merman on top of your body with lust in his blue eyes.
You look down to where his hips are pressed against yours when you feel an unfamiliar weight over your pubic bone. Once again, a day's worth of interactions with this specimen is proving more productive than previous years of study, for the great unknown of how mermaids reproduce has just been revealed to you as you see the merman's member lying on your body.
And you are only aware of what kind of expression you have to have on your face when he speaks to you. "What's the matter, ye humans donnae have this either?"
"No, no, they have it, like... some do, but not so... like this.”
Once again, a deep chuckle drips from his chest making you look up to him as he looks down on where your pyjama shorts stick to your clothes when they get wet from the water dripping from his body. His fingertips bury themselves under the hem of your pants, trying to pull them down but grunting when he can't because his body is in the way.
He leans back, sinking back into the water and finally pulling your pants and underwear off, leaving you bare and exposed to him from waist down. You try to think of a reason as to why you seem so unbothered by his advances, it must be some kind of mermaid powers. The guy that took you on a date and asked to go to your home later? No. The guy you met online that asked to meet? iugh. But the merman on the tank that could ruin your career? Yeah, he's alright.
But mermaid powers or not, the way you feel his tongue lap at your soaked folds is very real and so is the whiny moan that falls from your lips. You feel him bury his face even deeper into your cunt, slurping the juices and moaning at the taste of them making you curl your toes. His hands move under your thighs, locking you in place so he can peacefully devour you.
Even though the man has no intentions of pulling back, you still grab the hair at the top of his head urging him closer which he happily complies making you moan softly. One of his hands moves closer to your cunt, dragging his claw over your skin making you shudder at the feeling.
You worry for a second that the merman will scratch you just like he did on your ankle, but instead he uses two fingers to spread your folds leaving you as exposed as he can before shoving his tongue into your entrance making you arch your back. The muscle dragging along the ribbed walls of your cunt, flooding his mouth with the taste of you.
A shameless whine escapes your lips when you feel him pull his face back, your grip on his head lacking all force. He coos at you, shushing your cries as he turns you on your stomach, keeping one of your knees bent as he slots himself behind you.
He props himself on an arm, keeping his chest flush against yours as his other arm hugs you pulling you impossibly closer to him as he rolls his hips to slide his already hardening dick between your folds, making you buck your hips to meet his movements. The heat of his wet body making you ache for more, to feel him closer, deeper.
You lower your hand, placing it between your legs and keeping his cock from moving forwards, making it sink into your welcoming walls. A harmony of moans filling the tank when he slowly sinks into you, the weight of his shaft inside of you feeling comforting in the cold of the tank.
The merman buries his face on the crook of your neck, biting softly your skin, just enough to feel you between his teeth as he moves his hips back, moaning at the feeling of your tight warm cunt sucking him back in.
He moans in tandem with you, a song of your voices accompanying the dance of your bodies. Everytime Johnny's hips move forwards, yours move back, the sound of skin slapping growing louder as his movements get faster.
Every snaps of his hips threaten to pull the air out of your lungs, leaving you unable to do anything else but moan at the feeling of his length hitting so deliciously deep while stretching your gummy walls to accommodate his girth.
“A'm gonnae tak' ye wi’ me once I'm out… would ye lik' that, bonnie lassie? Keep ye close, fucked ‘n’ dined, nae a single worry inside of that bonny head of yers but to take my big fucking cock as good as yer right now…” Every filthy word that leaves his lips, falling like melted honey into your ears making you clench around him, is accentuated with a snap of his hips making you bounce on his arms.
His arm that was hugging you moves lower, fingertips travelling down between your legs and rubbing tight circles over your clit making you whine as you close your eyes. You can hear his tail splash in the water with his movements, and you can tell when his thrust starts to become sloppier, almost losing the rhythm, but keeping it long enough for you to combust around his shaft.
He groans on your shoulder when your walls clench around his length like a vice, milking him for what he's worth, making hims moan against your skin as he keep moving his hips, slowly, letting the two of you ride out your orgasm as you try to get air back into your lungs.
Under the tank, on the underground level of the sanctuary and hidden in the shadows, three pairs of eyes see how Johnny kisses your shoulder softly.
“You know… I was feeling bad about dragging the poor girl into this mess, but… I don't think she minds it too much.” Gaz says, eyes glue to the two of you.
The thing is, that just like sailors knew that the earth was round long before anyone else; they also knew mermaids were real long before the rest of the world. But being able to communicate with one of the sea apex predators has its benefits, and negotiating with them usually translates to an improvement on the business.
And if the merman they accidentally run over with their boat says he wants a cute little partner to repopulate the north sea in exchange of pushing the fishes towards their fishing nets… they will get him a girlfriend to keep him happy.
After all, since humans always find a way to benefit from mermaids, it's only fair that mermaids benefit from humans too.
I hope you guys still wanted some mermaids, I don't know how it took me so long 🩷
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#john soap mactavish#soap cod#soap call of duty#soap mw2#soap#john mactavish smut#john mactavish imagine#johnny mactavish#johnny soap mactavish#soap smut#call of duty#cod#cod modern warfare#call of duty modern warfare#cod x reader#cod smut#call of duty x reader#soap x reader#cod mwii#john mactavish x reader#john mactavish#mermay#mermay 2024#Lovi writes 🩷
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Will you stay?
A/n: save me sad dragon general, save me... sad dragon general you better get ready cause I'm sending happiness your way whether you like it or not
Content: Jiyan x Reader (fem implied, but no pronouns used), angst undertone but it all turns to fluff, Jiyan referred to as a husband, word vomit, non sexual nudity implied, not proof-read, maybe a tiny bit ooc? Feedback is appreaciated
Moonlight cascades through the open window in silky streams, showering the white sheets with silver and shimmer. The world is at peace, and quiet prevails all around, much unlike the main battle front. For only a few hours he spends here, Jiyan feels as if his lifelong wish is fulfilled. A facade it is, a dream, but it is comforting in all its delusion. Maybe one day it will come true, and he won't be forced to abandon your warm embrace for another month, and more, to fight.
His eyes move from the window and down at you where you have nestled yourself against his chest, your arms draped around him. It’s well into the depth of the night, yet both of you are denying sleep that so obviously hangs heavy over your eyelids - as any hour more means longer time spent together. And up until that point he has been listening to you talk about your days in the city, your fingertips tracing his chest and the occasional scar that paints itself thin and textured, different from the rest of his smooth skin. When you trailed off, he was quick to notice. His chin dipping slightly down to look at you.
Your finger neverending in its work of drawing him out, feeling him in all his warmth, living warmth - and your eyes lost themselves in images your mind conjured of what the battlefield looked like now. Red skies and twisted lands soiled with blood of people from the same city you were in now, the same people that were once someone’s little boys and girls, daddy’s girl and momma’s boys. Only now they were decades older with heavy bags under their eyes, lying in the desolate lands under trees for cover.
“Don’t think about it.. don’t.. let that plague your mind, my dear” Jiyan spoke up, his hand coming up to cup yours that had begun to shake over his chest, fingers curling into your palms. Jiyan wished he could take this worry away from you, he wished he could protect you from the horrific unknown and all the terrifying images of your imagination, but such a task was an impossible one. Your bare body can only share his warmth and hold on to what is currently there.
“(Y/n).. “
“Tell me about your days..” you whispered, cutting him off as timidly as a petal of a flower. You pick your head up and place it on top of his chest, gazing into those golden eyes you had dreams of when he was gone. Pretty in all their glory, even as they regarded you with worry and question. Jiyan sighs softly, his eyes wandering to the ceiling and the small swirly patterns that show up with the moon. That was your choice to put up there, little swirls and dots and constellations..
“Days are long and tiring. I often miss the smell of the city while out at the front, and your cooking. The ingredients and supplies are scarce but we are alright, we are holding together, my dear” his words resonate softly in your ears, and to an extent they bring you comfort. His thumb is rubbing the inside of your palm, massaging the soft skin until the shakiness subsides, and furthermore. “During the down-time, when there’s no danger to confront, the soldiers always seem to find new ways to entertain themselves” at that a small smile broke over his solemn and tired features, prompting you to smile as well. He has told you before how men would jest and play, little children stuck in bodies of adults, chasing one another after one of them threw a boot at someone. It was a reminder all of these soldiers were people and that they were alive, but most importantly they still held onto their humanity and hope. So much hope that one could feel it from a mile away.
“The other day, before our departure towards here, they were bold enough to attempt a small jest about me and it backfired, well it was unintentional frankly, I just happened to walk in on them. I suppose a new rumor broke out how I dismiss people from the military after I give them medical assistance”
“What? That’s ridiculous.. You wouldn’t send anyone home unless they were really badly behaving or injured”
“Yes. But that doesn’t quell the rumors, especially among the new cadets, which makes me think this is some ploy of the more experienced bunch as to scare the youth But..as I was walking by the tents and corners I ran into this group huddled under the lamp, talking about this rumor. I’m not sure what came over me, but I just marched up to them and coldly began to question them, about what they were doing and such” A stupid smile came across his lips now, a childish one you relished in seeing and it make you physically perk up to hear the rest of the story. Your leg came over his waist as you tried to comfortably lay on his chest.
“One of those men had a pretty bad leg wound from the day prior, but nothing life threatening. However, he has been quite snarky with Captains and other soldiers, so I gazed at his bandaged wound, then up at him, and then I asked if he wanted me to take a look at it. The team went silent as a grave, my love- I..”
“The rumor had so much effect on them? Pfftt-” “Yes! I was quite shocked too, I had to hold back my surprise, but he went pale, I can’t even describe it to you. Whoever created this rumor really was creative, I need to give them that, but I really couldn’t play so long afterwards. I had to clear it up..”
You giggle at his words, forehead pressing against his collarbone as your chest flutters with warmth, just imagining this scenario was silly - has your husband become such a menace in the army? Him? Sure, he was skilled beyond belief, but the way he laid beneath you and the way he touched you could never make you believe he was scary. You know him, for crying out loud! And due to that, this was all the funnier.
Jiyan joined your fit of giggles, other hand rubbing and holding your back, pushing you up against his chest that jumped with cackles. “Goodness- now you’re laughing at me as well” he comments lightheartedly.
“Apologies, apologies, I can’t help myself” you respond and slowly come back to your composure with a long sigh of relief. “Those poor souls, scared by my precious husband. Perhaps I should start scolding you at home more often” Your hand sneaks from his hold and pinches his cheek teasingly, causing him to click his tongue and pull away, reminded of the way his mother would do the same action when he was younger, although not so teasingly or playfully. His arms squeeze around your shoulders, his other arm soon joining its pursuit of keeping you still against him.
“Perhaps you should not. I missed you too much, but then again.. If scolding me is the way to hear more of your voice, I could get used to it..” Jiyan says as he releases his tight hold of you, letting you slump against his chest with a small exhale. “But now..” his lips found your forehead, pressing a lingering kiss to it before pulling away. “You must rest. I know how little sleep you got the last few days..” he says and reaches for the covers that were pushed down in your small tussle. The blanket covers your back and you instantly feel warmer, nestled here against him.
The thought of him leaving makes a pang settle in your heart once more, heavy and sharp. “Jiyan.. will you be able to stay for breakfast at least?” you ask him, hoping, wishing, praying.. just an hour will do.
“.. I will. I’ll wake you up, aright? We’ll cook something together..” There’s promise in his voice and it is undeniably prevalent and true, otherwise he would not be saying these things. Jiyan kissed your forehead again, hugging you against him and closing his eyes.
The upcoming morning suddenly became something to look forward to.
Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.
#jiyan x reader#-dragon.treasure#jiyan#jiyan imagine#jiyan x you#jiyan x y/n#wuthering waves#wuthering waves x reader#wuthering waves x you#wuthering waves fluff#wuthering waves imagine#wuwa x reader#jiyan wuwa#jiyan wuthering waves#jiyan fluff#wuwa
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Sanemi Shinazugawa standing up for you
Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader
Word Count: 2,1k
Synopsis: You are used to no one believing in you, to get picked on by other corps member because you're a girl. Until one of them crosses the line and starts a fights. Until a certain someone stands up for you when no one else does.
Warnings: not proofread bc I have a gym date with my boy (in order to have a biceps as beefy as (y/n)'s lmao), reader gets reduced to being a weak woman when she is anything but that, bad girl energy, Sanemi being a cutie
„I can’t believe they allowed a little girl to participate.”
“Look at her. There’s no way she survived the training of the former sound hashira, the serpent pillar and landed here.”
“Probably nothing but luck. Or she cheated.”
Don’t listen to them, just focus on staying hydrated and eating enough for your upcoming training. It has always been this way. You, a girl in a world of boys against everything. Why is it so hard to believe that you are capable of doing what they do when two female hashira show them how it’s done? You work your ass of day in and out, stayed consistent for your whole life. You’re always the first who appears in the morning and the last of them who falls into bed after practice. Nothing in life is given you for free, especially when it comes to strength. But apparently, they fail to realize this even after being a part of the demon slayer corps for quite some time.
“I bet she slept her way up.”
Your heart drops to the floor, eyes widen in sheer disbelief. You, sleeping your way up?
“Yeah, maybe she aims to be the fourth wife of him or something.”
“So that’s why he’s always going easy on her.”
“I can hear you. Loud and clearly”, you finally speak up.
They are talking about you as if you are nothing but air, as if you wouldn’t share the same air. Anger begins to rush through your veins uncontrollably. All this work only to be called the mistress of a former hashira?
“I couldn’t care less about the existence of a woman who fucked her way up”, one of them spits directly into your face.
“How are your trainees doing?”, the white-haired men questioned while staring into the sunset.
“Most of them are trash. That one though…”
Instantly, Sanemi’s gaze is glued onto Obanai who now sits next to him.
“Really? You’ve got one that has some balls?”
“A girl, to be exact. She seems decently skilled and Actually just transferred to your training”, Obanai clarifies.
“I never heard of a girl getting through Uzui’s basic training until now”, Sanemi replies while rubbing his chin.
A girl, huh? He can’t put a finger on the last time he ever trained one. But if Obanai talks so highly about you, there sure must be something going on.
“She’s got potential. Let’s just hope there’s enough time.”
“Instead of lying around like the loser you are, try training next time. I don’t need to fuck my way up, I’m all good by my own”, you bark back along with straightening your shoulders.
Who does this guy think he is? Talking behind your back like that while you don’t even know who the fuck he is.
“You’re nothing but a weak woman, I’m sure it was way too easy for you to wrap them hashira around your finger.”
You draw closer, his dreadful eyes piercing like arrows through yours. But you couldn’t care less. No, this is enough.
“Bold coming from a guy who obviously never touched a woman in his entire life. To be honest, I could give you one or two reasons for that. But it’s not my job to tell you what kind of loser you are. Now excuse me, the training session with the wind hashira begins soon and you definitely aren’t worth being late to that.”
“Why do I have to waste my time with those losers?”, Sanemi mumbles to himself while walking towards the campsite where all the trainees are located.
Or wait, didn’t Obanai talk about a skilled girl earlier? Maybe she’ll last longer than that bunch of losers. While getting closer, his eyes fall on a crowd of multiple guys cheering and staring of what looks like a sensation in the middle.
“What the hell is going on over there?”
You manage to escape his punch just before he hits your face with full force, so unexpected that your eyes widen. Did he just try to slap you? In your face?
“Are you out of your goddamn mind? We are here to get trained and not to fight each other like animals!”, you roar at him.
Another dash forward, another failed attempt to hit you with full force while everyone around you starts eyeing you up and down. This must be a cruel joke, a nightmare. You joined the demon slayer corps to fight against injustice and to support peace. But in this very moment, you find yourself surrounded by your comrades who definitely try to hurt you.
“You just have to play the smartest one, don’t you? I don’t give a damn about your little game. I will never respect a woman who fucked her way up”, he jeers back at you.
You force yourself not to cry, to not show them how much their fucking words sting. All your life, you were forced to fight against those who wanted to see you suffer, does who didn’t put trust in your abilities. Your neighbors, your friends, even your own family. Never more than a little girl with crazy dreams, never more than average with no one who believes in her.
“You have no i-“
An enormous storm of air swirling around you catches you completely off guard and almost sweeps you off your feet. You aren’t able to see anything anymore, let alone move. Fuck, what is this? Definitely not the power of that jerk from before. Your lungs feel like bursting under the immense pressure, chest so tight that you have to force air in and out. What on earth is this?
“That’s enough. Who do you even think you are?”
When the storm calms down as rapidly as it came, you find yourself landing onto the floor with your knees just in time while everyone around you bumps into the ground head-first.
“S-she attacked me! It was her fault!”
Your eyes widen in sheer horror when you begin to realize who was responsible for this. There he stands with his katana in his hand, his white cloak still flowing in the wind.
And his dreadful orbs are set on you.
You try to scream, try to defend yourself, but all of the sudden you forgot how to speak. This is the wind hashira, Sanemi Shinazugawa. After all those countless sessions with Tengen and Obanai, it was your goal to get here, to impress him.
But now you’re kneeling to his feet while countless men point their fingers at you, claiming you’re the one responsible for this mess.
“So, this was you?”, he questions.
There is no doubt in the fact that his ask is directed towards you. Not when he looks at you so serious with his hand clutched into a tight fist.
“I didn’t mean to cause trouble”, you finally press out.
Defending yourself is a waste of time. With all those men saying you’re the problem, your words mean nothing. All you can do is sit here and hope that you’re able to stay, hope that the wind hashira won’t send you back home like everyone predicted.
“You have to be fucking kidding me”, he mutters with low voice.
It’s over. This is it, your final time at the hashira training. Even giving your best wasn’t enough, apparently. Not when nobody believes in you except yourself. You should have kept quiet, should have ignored their stupid sayings. You furrow your eyebrows, wild eyes going hard.
No. You did everything right. No one is allowed to talk to you in such a manner, to say all those nasty things about you. It was the only right thing to defend your honor. There is nothing to regret.
“Are you really trying to make her responsible for this when I heard your dumb ass talking shit about her? You have some fucking nerve, lying into the face of a hashira.”
Time stands still, you don’t dare to make a move while the crowd around you goes silent. Did the wind hashira really just…Stand up for you?
“Now get lost, all of you brats. If you’d be as good at fighting as in talking shit, we would have beaten all demons already.”
He doesn’t have to tell them twice. In the matter of seconds, the usual crowded area is deadly silent with only you and the white-haired man remaining. Your heart almost beats out of your chest, eyes now fixated on his back. Why would he even stand up for a stranger, especially a girl? It’s probably best if you get away from here as well-
“No, not you. You definitely stay”, he instructs you after you take one single step forward.
You freeze right in your tracks. What now? Will he kick you out, send you back to your family? What if he didn’t mean those words he said earlier, what if he’s not convinced that you are in fact innocent?
“Listen, I’m sorry about t-“
“You really have some balls, dealing with a bunch of guys like that. My honest respect for that.”
“What?”, you blurt out.
And there it is. The most breath-taking smile you’ve ever seen, a smile that makes your heart and stomach flutter, that leaves you standing there like an idiot. You never actually believed in love, let alone to fall for someone. But the wind hashira, standing in front of you with his katana casually placed over his shoulders and his hand on his hip while smiling at you…
You’re lost. Deeply, completely, utterly lost.
“It’s clear that you’re working hard and I admire that. They have no right to talk to you this disrespectfully. I’m the only one who’s allowed to do that”, he replies with his charismatic low voice.
“Thank you for standing up for me. For a second, I was pretty sure you’ll send me back home”, you admit while avoiding his gaze.
Maybe you’re still able to prove them all wrong, maybe you will make it after all. The hashira training is your chance to finally show your true self. You grab the handle of your katana tightly. And you will do everything you can to use that chance.
“Why would I send someone like you home when you’re one of the best corps members? These guys don’t know shit about you and it’s clear that they’re jealous. Don’t listen to those people and keep up the hard work.”
The man in front of you definitely isn’t the monster you’ve heard of. The rough and loud wind hashira who has zero control over his emotions, who rejected his own brother. The man who means nothing but violence, nothing but trouble. No, that man in front of you is smiling at you, teasing you in order to become better. And you’ll do everything to thank him for believing in you.
-one week later-
“You can’t keep her for yourself any longer. Apart from Kamado, she’s one of the greatest chances the demon slayer corps have. It’s Gyomei’s turn to train her”, Shinobu explains calmly, earning one of the deadliest looks ever from the wind hashira.
Truth is, he doesn’t want to let you go. He wants to see you every day, wants to train with you as often as he can, wants to talk with you into the night. What is left when you’re not around except the effect you had on him, the admiration he holds for you in his heart? Sanemi thought he’d never be able to find love again, that no other woman would ever catch his heart. But there you are with your determination made of stone and heart made of gold.
“She’s better off with me”, he mumbles with a pout, not daring to look into the insect pillar’s eyes.
It’s clear that he’s acting ridiculous. When it comes to gaining more strength and abilities, you’re definitely not better off by his side only. He can’t just gatekeep you for his own will.
“Don’t tell me you started liking her”, Obanai comments dryly.
“Sanemi, is it possible, that…that…”
“Don’t you dare saying that”, he warns the pink-haired girl opposite of him.
“ARE YOU IN LOVE WITH (Y/N)!?”
“SHUT UP, I NEVER SAID THAT!”
“YOU DON’T HAVE TO SAY IT, I CAN SEE IT IN YOUR EYES!”
“WHY? BECAUSE THEY’RE BLOODSHOT!?”
Him, in love with a woman? How ridiculous…
Right?
He huffs to himself. Yeah, there is no denying in the fact that he fell a little too hard.
Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld
@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake
@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345
@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen
#kny#kny x reader#kny sanemi#kny fluff#kimetsu#kimetsu fic#kny fic#kimetsu sanemi#kimetsu fluff#kimetsu no yaiba x reader#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer#demon slayer fic#demon slayer x y/n#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer x you#demon slayer x female reader#demon slayer fluff#demon slayer sanemi#sanemi shinaguzawa#sanemi shinazugawa#sanemi x reader#sanemi x you#sanemi fluff#sanemi x y/n#demon slayer shinazugawa#kyny shinazugawa
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this will sound like one of those "let men be masculine" level niche internet community brained posts, but i honestly really was embarrassed of how much i like drag for a while. in the circles that i run in, liking drag too much is seen as pretty cringey and for wealthy cis gays. like everybody knows a few cool avante garde local performers that they fuck with who run queer dance parties that are inclusive and the like, but very few people that i know will just go to a drag show at an entertainment or social engagement for their own sake. it's almost seen as a tourist thing, a normie gay thing.
but its one of the few spaces where i can actually recognize a lot of feminine men and nonbinary man-thing-girly-freaks like of the particular type that i am. leather bars are so masc and buff and im often invisible. bear bars are really nice and i do feel welcome there! but people are only feminine in their mannerisms, not presentation very often. the more explicitly gender inclusive trans/queer spaces cater to more of a wlw and adjacent crowd whose relationships to masculinity and femininity are different from mine. circuit gay bars are obviously terrible.
drag is nice. there's guys with weird little haircuts and long earrings who aren't buff and are swishy and dress interestingly but are a little uncomfortable as their regular selves and have to don alternate personas in order to be outgoing. and i even like that it's okay to be bitchy and insulting sometimes in drag world, like sometimes that is just your genuine feedback on the work someone has done and it's not the end of the world. there's lot of open conflict in the drag world that actually works out pretty alright.
it's a local nightlife scene like all the rest, its got its theater kid bullshit and egos and superficiality out the ass and so many people are trying to be famous or make money, but even to this day i forget that i can just be a really weird feminine guy until i'm around some of them and watching them prance about. i worry about how i look or am being read and then even just watching a fucking drag race episode i'll see like 9 different guys who are so fucking androgynous with their weird assymetrical self cut haircuts that they pass less than i do and they're cis men. they have bodies or faces like i do. and in the local scene it's obviously even better because you're looking at real life people. maybe i should be over it by now but im not, i need to see weird little awkward feminine guys with funny outfits playing dress up and crying and fighting with one another because they never got over their last picked in gym class baggage. its meeee i relateee. i even like that its a little toxic! we've got some issues out here, let's joke with them and make a character of them instead of pretending to be nice!!
i tend to be pretty skeptical of "representation matters!" type shit but part of that is probably because i never really feel represented. i know, boo hoo, thin white man doesnt feel depicted on screen, sounds very silly. but then i see kade gottmik on drag race and i swell with emotion and suddenly feel like who i am is POSSIBLE in this world and i realize that even with all my privileges i am starved for representation and that it does benefit you to have it. theres trans guys on screen but thats not close enough to ping that ooh!!! ahh!!! i can love myself!! radar for me. it has to be a very particular kinda person. matt bernstein makes me feel similarly
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Mmmm, may I order myself a bloody pomegranate sundae? Looks quite delectable! ♥️
❝ THANK YOU FOR YOUR ORDER、 @yandere-romanticaa .ᐟ ⟡ HERE IS YOUR RECEIPT FROM CAFÉ YUME ⟡
𐙚BLOODY POMEGRANATE SUNDAE：disturbingly red but it smells good at least．．
𐙚 dish desc。．yandere hsr men’s reactions to getting caught in the middle of one of their messy crimes.
．。𝜗𝜚 labels。general yandere themes, mentions of gore and violence, manipulation, filthy, light minors dni warning
．。𝜗𝜚 ingredients。aven, sunday
#AྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིVENTURINE ⇢ “so what if i’m crazy? the best people are”
。no literally
。this man has no shame at all. he’d give you the widest smirk in the world, staring at you straight in the eyes with those intimidating eyes of his while carelessly wiping off some blood from his expensive attire.
。“oops, you caught me.”
。it would be rather unsettling about how unfazed he is. when you call him a murderer and all sort of insults you can think of, he’d just laugh and tell you it’s all part of the ‘game’ you two were in.
。he’d love the horrified look on your face, though, so do be prepared for now intentional bloody corpses anywhere you go.
。aventurine himself knows what he’s doing is wrong. unlike a certain someone but he will submerge the voice of reason inside him if it means that it’s needed for his ‘end goal’ — which is securing you all to himself. he knows you’re breaking him apart, ruining his mind with your thoughts that gnaw on his morals like parasites, but at some point he had just decided to succumb to it. after all, he does not have anything left to yearn for if you’re gone.
。it is almost like he clings to you for his own sanity, ironically enough. you are the cause of him breaking down and yet you are also the one who lets him know why he’s still alive, so for him, killing someone is equal to reminding himself about what he’s living for.
。this gambler won’t know when to stop— he relishes in the thrill of it, he even likes getting caught by you. his sick mind thinks it’s hilarious.
“YOU DON’T have to stare at me that much,” aventurine chuckles.
how could you not, with the obvious residue of blood splattered all over him, he doesn’t even bother wiping it off. the dim candlelights flicker to illuminate your mortified face, because the seat that was occupied moments ago before you excused yourself to get something, was now empty. your dinner date with your friend was cancelled by force.
the man in front of you carelessly slides the scarlet chair out to sit in the formerly occupied place, the chair making an ugly creak as he does, crossing his legs- leaning back leisurely as he smiles at you through despicable eyes.
“i know my attire is ravishing tonight, but please, feel free to order anything else.” he gestures to the spread menu. you can’t even touch it with the substance that contaminated it, no, contaminated the whole table you were sitting in— the angelic white rose jar decoration is broken and red is bleeding into their fragile petals, the ravishing steak is inedible, broken utensils are scattered everywhere on the luxurious tiles of the restaurant, and it’s eerily quiet except for the soft romantic jazz that echoes creepily across the silence.
when you try to leave- to get away from this insane monster that is him, he stops you and pouts, telling you he’s waited for so long, surely they could have an impromptu date. you were his fiancé, it was natural for him to want to treat you to dinners alone- he’d say with a chuckle.
“dates out of the blue are always fun, don’t you think?” he would say with a smile as he eats the steak without caring much about the taste- he has his pretty princess all to him, that’s what matters more. that should be the only thing that matters.
#SྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིUNDAY ⇢ justifies himself
。this paranoid and obsessive man will have the most difficulty suppressing his desire to make a complete massacre
。he just can’t stand seeing someone even close to you. but as the head of the oak family, he’s also the most reputable person so he cannot risk that to succumb to his needs.
。he still will though, just not obviously. his murders are calculated and too well-woven to be suspicious of from the public eye, he knows how to pin crimes on someone else and it’s certainly not his first time doing this.
。when you raise eyebrows- he’d smile and laugh about how you’d think such lowly of him. he was your sweetheart, so you didn’t think much of it either.
。“please, love. now im quite offended.”
。he was definitely pondering over how you caught up though, so he’s going to put in extra effort to cover his tracks.
。but there’s times he loses his composure and doesn’t bother to cover up his crimes. he snaps, letting go of the thin string of sanity that held him together- and when you see that, he’d suddenly go all sweet, cooing to you that this was all for your own good.
。“they were hurting you, angel. hurting you. you’ll never be heartbroken again, not in my arms.”
。sunday is a master manipulator. human emotions are something he has dealt with tons of times. he will know what to say and what to do to pull on your cogs as if he’s performing clockwork.
。when even his reasoning and silver tongue doesn’t work on you- he would hate to do it, he doesn’t want to artificially make his darling, but for the greater good, he would, brainwash you. like mentioned, he’s a firm believer of the end justifies the means.
STANDING upon you is a fallen angel with his attire drenched with blood that isn’t his. you can tell with the way his pristine gloves are stained to oblivion.
you see his business smile crack slightly when he sees you standing in the doorway, horrified. “apologies,” sunday says with a smooth voice, but his eyes waver a little, but soon harden- as if there’s a completely rational reason why he has done whatever he did to your poor friend that was waiting for you in your room.
“what…?”
his cold eyes suddenly melt at your mortified look- he sighs with condescension, as if somehow you’re the one in the wrong. “it’s my sincere apologies i intruded your room without warning, but I must say, the situation was rather… suspicious, hm?” he slowly walks towards you- every step pronounced and clicking against the tiles as if death is knocking on your door.
“another man sitting in the bed we share? I don’t think that’s appropriate, don’t you think?” he’s close enough to push you onto the wall- blocking your escape route. “isn’t he the same person who forgot to send you presents on your birthday?”
sunday doesn’t actually care about the presents part- he was the one who discarded his gift before you could get it, anyway. he’s using it as an excuse to reprimand you.
“y-yes, but that’s not an excuse to—“
“ah ah, I don’t think there’s much of an excuse to make here. you’re dodging the point. tell me, am i not enough for you?” his sickly sweet voice isn’t paired with the sweetest gesture- in fact, you can feel his stained hands press your neck ever so slightly.
you have no other choice but to say you’re sorry- begging him that you really weren’t cheating on him; and it was just an unfortunate coincidence your friend was on the bed. every time you pleaded, he’d sigh and shake his head as if he’s giving in to your desperate begging to not leave you here alone, but inside, his heart pounds with delight seeing you break down and lose your reason.
“oh, you pathetic little dove. always needing someone to protect her from evil.” his hands caress your head, leaning into you to envelop you in a tight embrace he doesn’t plan to let go of. “you keep trying to fly away, yet you know nothing about the world around you.”
your pleas echo louder as his fingers touch your lips, stinging your nose with the metallic smell on them, and he pulls you in for a kiss that makes you choke, his tongue intruding your mouth that spills out drops of saliva from the lack of breath.
“—so I’ll make you a lovely cage, sweetheart.” he whispers against your lips, smiling through his devilishly handsome gaze before devouring them once more.
#𐙚．。articles#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail smut#sunday x reader#hsr smut#honkai star rail yandere#sunday smut#sunday x you#aventurine smut#aventurine x reader#hsr x reader#yandere hsr#yes I only write for these two at this point
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Okay, I’m going to do it. I have been holding back and just telling my closest fandom friends my crazy theory, but what the hell. Most of you think I’m batshit anyway.
Here we go.....
What if we have been on the receiving end of a long played out psyop and Louise has been a way to make the public want Milex?
Okay, hear me out...
It’s 2017/8 Alex has abandoned Miles after EYCTE. He has gone to France to write and record TBHC, having realised their little TLSP bubble could never last (see Star Treatment). Without Alex, Miles is a little lost and lonely in LA. His reputation is also at rock bottom after the journalist incident. Miles decides he wants to move back to England, and Alex decides he wants to move back to, as we know they can never be more than a few minutes away from each other
Taylor either wouldn’t or couldn’t leave LA, so she and Alex break up. But they need a new girlfriend to keep up the straight image (especially with the new badly-received album and a world tour about to begin). On the original version of OPP as seen on the AM in Mexico video, over the turtle segment Alex sings ‘One More Year I’ll Call It Quits’ maybe the plan was to give it all up,but he had signed a contract to do another album and tour after TBHC, and with Miles’ reputation so bad, if they were together then they would both be cancelled.
So a European girlfriend is found and this is where the subterfuge begins. We start with old Instagram posts with tags like #alexturnerwillyoumarryme, then we get professionally shot videos of her backstage at AM’s concert (all the time Alex is ‘still with’ Taylor) so as soon as they launch, the first image of Louise the public get is a negative one, as a fangirl who has set out to get Alex, not caring if he cheats in his current girlfriend.
Before I list the reasons why I think she is fake, can I say this idea he has stayed with her as punishment for cheating on Taylor is absolutely ridiculous. Men who are serial cheats aren’t known for wearing hairshirts. Especially when you’re a handsome, wealthy rock star who could easily get another girlfriend.
So, the idea is, Louise is the most unpleasant person who makes Alex miserable, and if most people are honest, they want Alex to be happy..
So, let’s look at the evidence..(where there is a * it means there is a Miles counterside)
Louise doesn’t work. She claims to be a feminist, but her job seems to be being Alex’s girlfriend.
She openly copies selfies posed by previous girlfriends, making her look like she has no personality of her own
She boasts in her IG posts ie the ‘we just fucked’ pic and the panties on the piano.
She claims to be a musician but we rarely see her writing or recording anythjng.*
She writes embarrassing things about itAlex on social media (beautiful dick).*
Openly takes a neutral stance on Palestine.
Claims to wear vintage clothes but they rarely are*
When Alex was ill after the third London show, it is publicised that he leaves the Emirates with his parents, no sign of Louise. She’s too busy taking pics in the hotel with Matt and Amanda
Meanwhile Miles has worked hard on his public image. He has shown he is a hard worker. He rarely mentions Alex on social media and when asked about him in interviews, whilst admitting they are good friends, is insistent they are not working together. Which is good because he has always been accused of riding on Alex’s fame.
He frequently gives updates when he his writing and recording, treating us to little snippets, something Louise never does.
Is it a coincidence that holiday gate is the same as the week One Man Band’s release. Alex looking miserable with Louise Vs Miles being charming and hard working.
Not long after Louise starts going on about her fake vintage, Miles posts a whole real of him going proper vintage shopping so he looks authentic.
Even in Dublin there is no duet with Alex. Miles not using Alex’s,fame,but also those who monitor social media can see how hungry they are for Milex interaction.
The river Mersey comment – another way of guaging public opinion. Finally the legion of doom 😍😍 comment on the NY recent. The fandom went crazy at Milex acknowledgement.
Alex....
His face..Alex is a pro. He has had twenty years of faking smiles after arguments with the other Monkeys, girlfriends, even Miles. He could fake a smile with Louise if we wanted to when they call their friends at Backgrid to take pap pictures. But instead he chooses to look like someone either on the verge of tears or else being held hostage. And in the latest set of pics, Louise looks the same.
The Taylor tattoo....it looks like he thinks so little of her he has kept that tattoo.
‘I don’t wanna be hers, I wanna be yours’ quite often at gigs where Louise is in attendance.
Not one song on the car written about her.
And now of course with the tour over, a lot of people return to watching TLSP videos. Happy, muscly, healthy looking Alex having fun with Miles as opposed to skinny, miserable Alex trapped with Louise.
Apart from Louise’s most ardent fans, most people want to see him away from her and would be overjoyed at a TLSP reunion, and for us Milexers, a declaration of their love.
So, has this been a long game? A way of making the people think they want Milex? I told you it was crazy, but just remember the world of public relations is completely underhand and insane.
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Reckoner: Part One
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.3k
Summary: Your world is turned upside down when you get in trouble for something you didn't even do. The entire team is in uproar over this but Hotch says he will take care of it. Can he? Or are you doomed to live out the rest of your days in misery?
Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill
Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.
x
"Justice without force is powerless; force without justice is tyrannical." - Blaise Pascal
"How is your knee feeling?" you ask Spencer when you walk out of the elevator.
"Still hurts, but the brace you have around it is helping. I'm not moving it too much."
"I might not be a doctor in medicine but I know a thing or two."
You two walk into the bullpen where the rest of the team is. Derek, Emily, and Penelope are huddled around JJ who is showing them pictures on her phone.
"What are you guys looking at?" you ask and set your things on your desk.
"Pictures of Henry."
"My Godson? Let me see!" You and Spencer head over to her and admire the pictures of her son. "Look at his chubby cheeks. He's so cute. You guys are still bringing him over this weekend, right?"
"Yes. Will and I are very excited to go out of town."
"Well, don't worry. Spencer might be crippled but we can take care of him," you joke.
"Hey!"
You look up and see Hotch and Rossi in Hotch's office with an agent sent from the Witness Protection Program. Everyone knows it's Jack's birthday so it's especially hard on Hotch right now. The agent leaves promptly, leaving both older men to talk alone.
"How he is doing?" you ask and nod to your boss.
"How do you think?" Derek sighs. "That agent came by earlier to show him a video of Jack. It sucks but that's about as much as Hotch is gonna get for it."
"We're gonna catch Foyet before something bad happens," you promise.
"We should get to the briefing room," JJ announces and puts her phone away.
You're about to follow everyone when you see several Virginia police officers walk into the bullpen.
"Excuse me, where can I find SSA Y/N?"
"Right here. What can I do for you?" you ask and step forward.
"You're under arrest for the murders of Juan Lopez, John Dimateo, Chase Williams, Eric Price, Jeffrey--"
As the officer is speaking, he turns you around and handcuffs your wrists behind your back. Your gun and badge are still on your person which he also removes. He says two more names which makes a total of seven people he thinks you're responsible for. The entire bullpen is in chaos as Spencer and JJ protest against your involvement, Penelope is just confused and asking why, and Derek immediately gets Hotch and Rossi involved.
"Hotch! Rossi!" Derek yells.
Hotch looks through the window and sees you in handcuffs. He and Rossi are out of their seats and out of the office in record time.
"Excuse me, what is going on?"
"Who are you?" the officer who handcuffed you asks.
"I'm her superior. What is going on here?"
"She's being arrested for the murders of seven men."
"Hotch! I didn't do it!" you say but they're already pulling you away.
"Wait, where are you taking her?"
"Virginia Police Department for questioning."
"Hotch! Spencer!" you say as they practically drag you away.
For five seconds, no one can say anything. No one can believe what they just witnessed. You? Murder? You dedicate your life to helping others, not to end their lives. You've had so many bad things happen to you and by doing good, you think you're making up for the bad. Why would you go out and murder seven people? When would you have the time to? If you're not at work, you're at home with Spencer.
After those shocking five seconds, all hell breaks loose. Everyone starts talking over each other. What is going on? Who are these victims? There has to be some kind of mistake. Y/N would never murder anyone. They've got the wrong woman. Even people who are not on the team start whispering to each other.
"Everyone calm down," Hotch says loudly. He turns to Rossi who is trying to keep a confident face on. "Take the team with you to Long Island." He addresses the team. "Listen, I'm going to go down there and figure out what's going on. In the meantime, there is still a case going on that needs our attention. JJ and Rossi will brief you on the case. When I'm done, I'll fly up there on my own."
"Let me go with you," Spencer says.
"Spencer, I know how hard it is for you right now, but I need you with the team. I'm going to take care of it."
Everyone hates that they can't be there for you right now but they understand where Hotch is coming from. When Hotch was released from the hospital, they all wanted to take care of him but stayed with the team and worked on other cases. However, Hotch was bedridden. You're in fucking jail.
After Hotch leaves and the rest of the team is getting ready to fly to New York, Spencer is still stuck in his spot. He can't seem to move from it because all he is thinking about is you. He wants to cry. He wants to break down at the thought of you being all alone in that interrogation room. Derek does a double take and walks over to Spencer.
"She's going to be okay, man. They have the wrong person. We both know this."
Spencer has to believe this otherwise he doesn't know what he is going to do. Everyone piles into the briefing room but it's like they are zombies. No one knows how to act because your chair is empty. Spencer won't be able to concentrate on a word JJ says much less anyone else, but she begins the briefing.
"Last night, Ben Vanderwaal was killed in Commack, Long Island. He was shot at close range once in the heart, once in the head with a .22 caliber. They found hair and blood trances from Ben's wife, Heather."
"Not Heather?" Rossi asks.
"No, she's still missing and presumed dead. The caliber and placement of the bullets match that of two previous victims. The first is Rita Haslat. Eight months ago, she went missing from her home in New Jersey. Four weeks later, she was found in a trash bin."
JJ puts pictures of what Rita looked like before and after being found.
"She went from that to this in under three weeks? She's totally emaciated," Emily says.
"Ligature marks on her wrists and ankles indicate she was constrained." Derek looks over at Spencer to see him staring at the desk. "One in the heart, one in the head like Ben."
"It sounds more like an execution," Rossi says. "What about the third victim?"
"His name is Bill Levington. His appearance was certainly altered."
JJ allows the others to read about what happened to Bill. There's no way she's going to put those pictures on the screen. Spencer grabs the file and flips through it but he's not really reading it. He's only doing this so he doesn't get in trouble for not paying attention.
"His genitals are missing. Though the method of mutilation is different in each crime, there is clearly a signature. The question is, what?"
"In Ben's case, his hands were taken. Bill's genitals were taken. Rita was completely different. She was starved, tortured, and executed. There's no sign of postmortem mutilation," JJ says.
"Why would he take Heather and not simply kill her?"
"Maybe he hasn't and she's still alive," Derek says.
"The only thing concrete is the MO which depicts an efficient no-nonsense murder. We need to figure out what each act of mutilation means to the unsub or to the victim. Wheels up in twenty," Rossi announces.
He gets up, takes out a file from his inner jacket pocket, and places it in front of Spencer. The noise of the paper slapping the desk is enough to break Spencer out of his trance. He looks at the file and then up at Rossi.
"What's this?"
"You told us you were cleared to fly. You lied."
"Naughty boy," Emily chuckles.
"No, I didn't. I am a doctor, so technically, it wasn't a lie," Spencer stutters.
"What was it, then?" Penelope asks.
"Second opinion."
"You're my bitch now," she smiles and walks out of the briefing room. Everyone else walks out leaving Spencer alone with his thoughts. He allows his tears to fall now that he's alone. Penelope pauses when she hears him sniffle so she backtracks into the room. "Spence..."
"I'm fine," he sniffles and wipes his eyes.
"No, you're not. We're all not fine. She's going to be okay. Hotch is going to get her out of this."
"Yeah, I know," he whispers.
Hotch arrives at the Virginia Police Department sooner than he thought. He won't let you go down for something you never did. He's known you for around five years. He knows the kind of person you are, especially when you tackled him away from a car bomb and stayed by his side when he was stabbed by Foyet. He's not going to let anything happen to you.
The police department must know he was coming because they are on his ass as soon as he walks through the front door.
"You can't be here. You have no authority. This case isn't Federal," the arresting officer says.
"Like hell, I can't. I am her boss. She has rights."
"Which have been read to her. She hasn't lawyered up."
"There is a big misunderstanding here--"
"There is no misunderstanding. Y/N committed these crimes and didn't try to hide it very well."
"With what evidence?"
"Oh, we got a buttload of evidence and it all points to her. Sorry, but you're not on the case. I can't release that kind of information."
"I need to see her. I have a right to talk to her as her superior and as a lawyer."
The officer knows he's not going to win this argument so he decides to let it become his supervisor's problem.
"Be my guest."
The officer leads Hotch to where you are. They took you to one of the interrogation rooms as soon as you arrived, and you've been sitting here with an incompetent officer asking you questions. You're handcuffed to the desk even though you've shown no signs of being violent. You've complied with all of their rules but you haven't said a word to them. You know how interrogations work. You know how someone can incriminate themselves just by talking. You're going to let them get all their questions out before lawyering up.
"Care to explain to us why we found your DNA on all seven men?" No answer. "All seven men were murdered with different weapons that we traced back to your apartment. Your possession. Care to explain?" No answer. "My question is how did you manage to murder seven very fit and strong men that brutally? You're an FBI agent. You must know how to cover your tracks, no?"
"I want my lawyer."
The officer sighs and closes the file they have on you. He can't ask any more questions until your lawyer arrives. He chooses to leave the file there and exits the interrogation room. You immediately grab the file and look through it to see what they have. All seven men were brutally murdered like he said, but you didn't think it would be this bad. You're a strong woman but not strong enough to do this kind of damage.
Each man was killed with a different murder weapon--all that you recognize. They're items from your and Spencer's apartment. A kitchen knife that JJ gave you as a set for you moving into Spencer's apartment, a worn-down hammer you got from your parent's house to put up more shelves, one of your heels that Spencer got you as a present just because he loves you, the fire extinguisher you keep underneath the sink, the iron you keep in the bathroom, one of your phone chargers, and a box of Spencer's matches.
All of these items can come back to you since you're the one who bought them all besides the heels. Who are these men? Who actually killed them? They were all killed in close proximity to your home and work, so whoever killed them must be local to the area. Why frame you for the murders? What does this person or people get for framing you? There are a whole lot of questions that the police aren't asking.
It seems like all they see is murders, some DNA that belongs to you, so you must be the killer without asking the important questions. The door opens and you quickly close the file and return it to the spot in which you found it. You go back to the stoic look on your face but that drops when you see Hotch at the door.
"Hotch!" He closes the door to give you two some privacy even though you know someone is watching you. "I didn't do it. You have to believe me."
"I know. I believe you," he nods and sits across from you, "but someone did and they really want you to suffer for it."
"I've never even met these men in my life. I don't know who they are. How could I have murdered them? I practically live at the BAU."
"They say they have strong evidence against you but they're not saying what it is. I'm not your lawyer."
"How's Spencer?"
"As much as you'd expect him to be. He wanted to come here but the team is on a case on Long Island."
"Hotch, what do I do?" you sigh with tears in your eyes.
"I'm going to do everything I can to get you out of here. It's just a matter of time. You might be spending a few days with PD."
"Yeah. You should go to Long Island and help the team. Like you said, they're not gonna let me leave anytime soon. I'll probably still be here when you get back."
"I can stay here."
"Hotch, go help the team. People are dying. I'll be fine."
"Okay."
Hotch gets up to leave but you stop him before he can.
"Tell Spencer I am okay. My family has a lawyer I am going to use. Tell him I will be home soon."
"Alright."
As soon as Hotch leaves, your confident shell fades away. You're not sure if you're going to be okay. PD has their suspect in custody. They're not going to let you go easily.
x
Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds angst#criminal minds series rewrite#criminal minds season 5
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Hey, can you do Emily, Charlie, and Verosika mayday x male!reader who was abused to death by his step father (reader is 20), reader is traumatized and depressed and is scared of men’s?
"Androphobia" ; Charlie Morningstar, Emily, Verosika Mayday
She feels utterly horrible hearing about the way you died! She has such a loving relationship with her dad, at least now, she hates the thought of someone going through something like that from someone who was meant to protect and care for them!
She's one of the most understanding of depression and trauma, but kind of a pushover about it, actually?
She'll try and reacclimate you to men starting with Angel, someone fairly androgynous, and Lucifer, seeing how generally polite and timid Luci usually is.
But she makes sure to always tell you that she'll be patient!
"Don't worry, S/O, if you're not okay yet! Sometimes, it's okay not to be okay... You have to feel it to let it run its course."
She'll let you hide behind her if you're ever frightened of the men around, too. After all, who would mess with the Princess of Hell's boyfriend?
She also puts this really intricate and overexplained sign on the door that tells people: "If you're a male or masc-presenting, please do not enter this room because this resident has trauma".
She'll take it down if you ask, though.
Like Charlie, Emily is utterly horrified. But unlike Charlie, she's also disgusted. Disgusted that someone you were meant to depend on could treat you like that!
She's quick to, if that person is deceased, either find them and punish them personally, or have Sera cast them down to Hell.
Yet again, super understanding of trauma and everything! Will have an entire discussion with you over boundaries, discomforts and triggers, things that make you feel comfortable after you've been triggered, etc.!
And she won't try to "make" you heal, she understands that these things take time, and with enough time, you'll start to heal all on your own...
She'll also use her wings to shield you from any men who may approach, but still be polite to the person if they weren't trying to be malicious.
"Hiya! Oh, my boyfriend? Don't mind him, he's just a little frightened. And speaking of which, I'd appreciate if you'd be able to turn around and maybe come back later when he isn't around so you don't scare him more! Please and thank you."
Speaking of, she'll also let you mess with her wings whenever you're getting anxious, trying to keep you distracted.
She's also going to politely tell anyone who makes you uncomfortable to back off, and won't honestly get more angry unless they refuse to back off. She hates anyone making someone uncomfortable, but especially you.
And she's also probably the most patient person in the world.
"Don't worry, S/O! Take all the time you need. Eden wasn't built in a day, you know? And I'll be here every step of the way. You can count on that."
Marry her.
She is... an utter bitch to literally everyone who makes you even the smallest amount of uncomfortable, even unintentionally.
"Excuse me? Who said you were wanted here? Can't you see there's someone infinitely more important to spend time with?"
I'd honestly be surprised if she doesn't make someone cry doing that.
She'll also make sure to give you special seats with either all-women, or by yourself at all of her events and concerts, just so she doesn't risk you having a panic attack while she isn't there to help you.
She'll try to acclimate you with the men of her crew, but aside from that, she doesn't really mind if you want to get along with other men or not.
She's also one who's surprisingly attentive to depression, always making sure you take your meds if you need them, managing you with a proper diet, and trying to help you sleep at times.
Whenever you have to go anywhere in public, she'll either go with you or have Coco, Milky, Apple, or Kiki go with you.
Like Emily, she'll shield you with her wings if she sees a man approach when she's out with you, that way you don't have to interact with them.
And if they comment on it?
"Why's your boyfriend hiding behind his bitch?"
"Why are you still a virgin living in your mom's basement at forty-five?"
Yeah...
Well, at least she cares. :')
#verosika helluva#helluva boss verosika#helluva verosika#verosika helluva boss#verosika mayday#helluva boss x reader#helluva boss#helluvaboss#helluva boss x y/n#helluva boss x you#helluva x reader#hazbin x reader#hazbin x you#hazbin x y/n#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x reader#emily hazbin hotel#hazbin emily#hazbin hotel emily#hazbin charlie#charlie hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel charlie#charlie x reader#charlie morningstar#charlie magne#hazbin charlie morningstar#charlie magne x reader#charlie morningstar hazbin hotel
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Hi! You're brilliant. Literature major here and someone who's loved Swift a lot growing up. I absolutely loathe who she is as a person now that the blinders have been off for a year and also the utter embarrassment that is TTPD. I'm seeing Swifties say "actually Taylor IS allowed to use female rage because she's had AI porn of her, been sexually harassed multiple times and won the court case for it, belittled for her art and is never taken seriously despite being stolen from" and despite the very obvious argument that "the TTPD setlist has 0 songs alluding to any of this to supposedly be about her female rage", I would LOVE to hear your take on this argument. My perspective is that despite these being very real experiences *building* to female rage Taylor has been through, she has never once spoken about them seriously outside of how they have impacted her as an individual. In this very album she's the epitome of a pick-me with her "you said other girls were boring" and "i can fix him" lines in her songs about the rat. This is opposed to the deep rooted community backing that comes with representing female rage as a topic (again, Paris Paloma's Labor is so good at representing that). Anyway I just have been subject to too many Swifties claiming Taylor has every right to co-opt Female Rage and it's making *me* rage. I don't have plans to battle anyone about it cuz the critical thinkers are coming to these conclusions themselves but I would love to hear your very well articulated thoughts on this supposed "argument" Swifties have about her being allowed to use the term. The fact that she's been through sexual harassment in the past and continues to despite being the biggest artist in the world.
Hello! First, I am so happy to hear you are a fellow Literature major <3 <3 Wonderful! And thank you for your kind words, I appreciate it. I hope you enjoy your study while finding it all as beautiful and important as I do!!!!! Sorry, it took me so long to write back- I was busy thinking it all through. I understand your frustration though, believe me. I feel it too.
Okay, let’s talk about your question. It’s an intense question- but I do think that just shying away from the conceptual point within the Swifties argument would be to give a shield against criticism- and I truly believe that nothing is above criticism. Criticism keeps us grounded in reality- but more than that it keeps us humble in self-reflexivity.
The argument is as follows: Taylor Swift is allowed to claim the term “Female Rage” because she has experienced harassment based on sex classification- correct? The swifies then levy four pieces of evidence for her experience of sex-based harassment, 1- she has had AI porn made of her, and 2- that she was in a sexual harassment lawsuit, 3- her art is often belittled, 4- her masters were never owned by her.
Okay, now that I’ve laid out Swifties argument- I am about to go full Analytic Philosophy major on it. <3.
The first piece of evidence is about the AI porn scandal. I want to express that the current mess of AI porn being made of women is despicable- there are sick, sick men out there who seem to think themselves entitled to viewing any womans naked body- real or fake. I am firmly against the creation of AI porn- and truly feel empathy for Swift having experienced it. I am sure that it was a negative experience. However, how exactly is this evidence in favor of her using the term “Female Rage” to describe her work when in fact none of her work addresses the AI Porn issue? Her work never even describes or addresses any of the issues implicit to the patriarchally permissive culture that allows for men to feel entitled to create AI porn in the first place. If this is to be a direct defense of her calling her actual body of work “female Rage” then I am going to need to see evidence of her being mad about the AI porn in her work.
She literally never even condemns the patriarchy in her music. Not even one of her songs is about how the patriarchy, in connection with the digital age, allows for men entitlement to bleed over in the creation of AI porn. It is a systemic issue too- more than just Swift experiences AI porn being made of them without consent- so it could be the subject of song to express “Female Rage” at this being a systemic issue- yet Swift did not do this. Thus, it is not an accurate defense for calling her work “Female Rage”
It is much the same case for the second piece of evidence. The closest we get is her singing “Clean” in Denver a year after her trial concluded, and during the time leading up to “Lover” in which a “dollar” was an Easter Egg. She famously wanted only a dollar for winning her trial. That easter egg, however, never had anything to do with the trial. In any case, there is still nothing in her work to suggest “female Rage” about being sexually assaulted. As far as I can tell- and I’ve listened to every song she’s ever written multiple times- there are only a few songs that can be loosely interpreted as dealing with anxiety and sadness. If we want to give benefit of doubt here- anxiety could tie into her experiences; I find this loose tie, however, uncompelling, because most of her music about anxiety- directly ties into some proto-capitalistic fear she is expressing.
Again, I’m sure that she did experience something negative during her trial- and did feel passionate about its verdict; however, there is nothing in her music about this instance- nothing. There’s no Paris Paloma style call-to-arms against the Patriarchy for enabling men to commit sexual assaults.
Before I move on- about the first two pieces of evidence- Swift is not obligated to write music about it- but if she is going to claim her work is “Female Rage” based on her experiences with either of the two things above- then I would expect to see reflection of these experiences in her work.
Onto evidence three and four. The claim is that her art is belittled based on sex-discrimination thus qualifying it as female rage. The connecting claim is that she was never given the opportunity to own her masters.
Her art is often regarded as simple pop-music made for adolescents- because that is what it is. I failed to see how this is belittling. It’s saying that the music does what Swift wants it to do- which is entertain children, teenagers, and those among us who want “family-friendly” pop-music. What’s the problem? I like simple pop music. I listen to a lot of pop music, because it’s fun and easy and simple. It does what it sets out to do- how am I belittling her by saying she writes basic pop music- not poetry.
People often only draw issue with her music when she tries to claim it is more than simple pop music. I draw an issue here- because it doesn’t live up to the standards of real, robust artistic music. It just doesn’t- again it’s not really belittling anything. This is the difference between belittling- and giving legitimate criticism. None of these complaints against Swift’s musical ability, lack thereof, or lacking creativity as a groundbreaking talent is at all related to discrimination based on sex or on her identity as a woman. It literally has nothing to do with her being a woman- she's just not a serious writer. She’s clearly not even a classically trained musician.
The fourth piece of evidence is again predicated on industry standard injustice. She did not own her master's- and was not offered the chance to own her master's. I, however, don’t really believe she was never offered to buy her own catalogue- I think she just gave a low-ball offer and got rejected. Personally, I feel like the amount of capitalistic rage that was unleashed after that- and the spiteful nature of her re-record issue- is because she was angry about getting her offer rejected. We all know, by this point, Swift can’t stand being told no. In any case, her not owning the masters of her catalogue is industry standard.
It could be likely that perhaps the two men buying and selling her music were rather sexist- I do recall the “I own Taylor Swift” Scooter incident. While that is clearly a sexist remark, I do think that Swift’s response to this incident is less directly correlated to feminist effort and more in line with her own personal feelings of dejection- and feeling capitalistic rage. If anyone want further detail on that- it's all in my previous post on Swift’s rage in my discussion on “Mad Woman” (2020).
The closest we get to a feminist-forward remark is her saying “Master of spin has a couple side flings” in which she is essentially outing Scooter as a cheater. That can only loosely be described as female rage- if you squint and look at it sideways. Otherwise, it’s just her trying to denotate a bomb in his life- it's very “eye for an eye” revenge that really doesn’t correlate to feminism or female rage. Because “revenge” is not the point of “Female Rage” or Feminism- The Point is JUSTICE and Showcasing WOMEN as Equals To MEN! AHHHH! It’s not like the guy was even cheating on her- she literally just wanted to ruin his life. (Not that I have sympathy for him. I’m just saying this situation was a personal vendetta for Swift- not some grand feminist declaration). But again, the interior motivations of her rage at Scooter- and the rage of women for centuries culminating into Female Rage as a movement- are drastically different motivating factors. In this instance she is lashing out with personal rage in which she is only advocating for her own point of view and personal hurts - not the community-driven concept of female rage.
I do also find it strange that only on point three and four, the two points directly connected to her power and money, are the only two things we can directly trace into her music and her work. She literally only gets angry about threats to her money and power-
Thus, I support my conclusion from my other post on Swift’s so-called female rage, that she is expressing corporate rage, or capitalistic rage. It is a different thing altogether, because, as I said in my other post:
Female Rage is grounded in experiences of oppression and injustice- yet marked too by its ability to clearly advocate for women’s rights in systemic, patriarchal issues. Female Rage necessitates extending empathy to other women- who have suffered the patriarchy too. It’s a call to community and a call-to-arms against intersectional forms of patriarchal abuse.
Never, in any of her four points of evidence, does she legitimately utilize her music to critique the patriarchy- which is an implicit necessity for art relaying themes of female rage.
If she ever did actually broach the subject in her music in a way that gives legitimate criticism to the patriarchal standards she claims to hate- then I will change my mind.
Where exactly has Taylor Swift ever really advocated for anything? She gives us the world's most lazy, throw away lines about “Girl Power” and “Being a Boss” and even a few “you can want who you want/ girls and girls and boys and boys” (“Welcome to New York” 2014) - yet never does it culminate into any remark upon injustice in society. She never once modulates into a reflection into the mores of society in which some demographics are considered lesser- it's all just bleak pop-music wherein she appeals only to the most populist- surface level aspects of social issues. Notice too- that she only ever mentions social issues when it becomes most likely to have good reception from the public. She only became a feminist- after it became popular on social media.
Where was she when I was a young lesbian feminist fighting for my life in the early 2000’s? Oh yeah, she was writing homophobic versions of her debut singles- and adding lines like “My Daddy’s gonna show you how sorry you’ll be” (“Picture to Burn” 2006) as an appeal to the patriarchy - I forgot. LOL. Where was she when feminism couldn’t be commodified- made fluffily and easy to “copy and paste” into her shitty pop-songs? Nowhere.
It’s not about feminism, or female rage, for her- or standing up for anything at all in the face of the larger social system. For her, it’s about commodification and economic power.
She's literally not a feminist. She’s not a LGBT activist- She's a goddamned opportunist and that has made her incredibly rich.
Anyway, about TTPD, specifically, I need a whole separate post to talk about the overt anti-feminist, pro-patriarchy messaging of that album. Can’t do it here- I've rambled long enough. And I have a boat load of textual evidence to incorporate into my discussion on Swift so-called “feminist music” that I want to discuss in depth soon. I also have a Feminist-Marxist analysis lined up- that one I did just for fun 😊
Ps- If you like any aspect of this argument or think that it might be true feel free to use it if anyone brings up the argument with you again. Sharing is caring.
If you disagree and wish to burn me in effigy- Well, catch me if you can. <3 hahaha
#anti taylor swift#ex swiftie#anti swifties#taylor swift criticism#fuck taylor swift#taylor swift critical#ttpd#mad woman#folklore#feminism#fuck the patriarchy#white feminism#marxism#patriarchy#female rage#paris paloma#labour#literary analysis
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The hate Taryn gets is way too exaggerated and disproportionate. It’s just straight up misogyny at this point, in my opinion. The fandom needs to get over it.
I could literally write a treatise about Taryn-hate at this point lmao. I’m going to share some thoughts (this actually got quite long), but I want to include a big ole disclaimer: at the end of the day, everybody gets to engage in fandom in the ways they want. everyone is free to love or hate whichever characters they want, for the reasons that feel valid and real to them. that being said, the treatment of Taryn specifically is really troubling and bizarre to me.
I think it’s worth pointing out that when we say Taryn-hate seems misogynistic, that means a lot more than just “people who hate Taryn hate her because she’s a girl.” in my opinion, fandom misogyny toward her often gets couched in broader terms. some examples of what I mean by this are:
(1) Taryn does things that are bad and I don’t like that - uhhhh okay. everybody in these books does shitty things, so let’s think about why specifically the actions of Taryn (a 17-18 year old girl being manipulated by multiple men in her life) fall into the category of unredeemable for you. the reason we might point to this being misogynistic is because it’s a double standard that doesn’t apply to other characters—we’re willing to forgive Cardan his cruelty, or centuries-old Madoc for the trauma he's inflicted and his ongoing need for bloodshed, but Taryn is just a stupid, evil girl for trying to secure her place in Elfhame through the levers of power that are available to her. she can never be forgiven nor redeemed no matter how loyal she is to Jude moving forward. why is that? what sin of hers are so particularly evil to warrant this response? and we have to answer these questions in the context of Elfhame & its moral code, not in the context of our own world.
(2) I could never see myself acting in the way Taryn does and therefore I don’t like her - okay? I can never see myself acting like Madoc, or even like Vivi (don’t get me started on Vivi & the fact that she gets passes Taryn never does), but that doesn’t mean I can’t have empathy for them. I understand that we experience the books through Jude’s perspective, so we’re automatically more prone to rooting for her—and to be clear, I love Jude! but fiction challenges us to experience the world through other perspectives, and it’s my opinion that Taryn acts in a way that is completely consistent and understandable with her experience of Elfhame. “I’m not like you,” she tells Jude. “I want to belong here. Defying them makes everything worse. You never asked me before you went against Prince Cardan—you didn’t care what it brought down on either of our heads.”
while Jude’s defiance is held up as girlboss behavior (by me, too! I love a “get worse” arc), Taryn’s more traditionally feminine approach to finding her place in Elfhame is reviled (@slightlyrebelliouswriter23 has a great post on the fawn response to trauma & on passivity). more on this point below.
(3) Taryn isn’t a “girl’s girl” - I am begging fandom to think critically about why Taryn betrays Jude & what that says not just about Elfhame, but about our world. these girls live in a world that affords them little power and agency. we meet them on the cusp of adulthood, and they’re both hyper-aware that they need to secure their place in Elfhame. Jude refers to knighthood as “earning” her place and is uninterested in marriage, but Taryn seems aware that she’s more likely to secure her place through the latter option (and also expresses the fear that Jude is going to leave her behind). it’s an oversimplification, but a useful one for the sake of this conversation, to point out that Jude chooses a more traditionally masculine approach, while Taryn chooses a more traditionally feminine one.
the tragedy is that this world—and particularly the men in their lives—pit them against one another. Locke offers Taryn the thing she wants most, requires a vow of her secrecy, and then begins flirting with Jude (and that's not even to mention him being a gancanagh!). at a point in her story where Madoc and Oriana are the only family who are still around for Taryn, Madoc capitalizes on Taryn’s ignorance (and also her awareness that she's never been the favorite daughter) & uses her to betray Jude. I almost never see these complexities brought up in conversations about Taryn, which is just gross to me, and echoes the ways that patriarchal power structures pit women against each other in the real world.
I’ve seen people argue that while Jude’s approach is also flawed, she at least doesn’t betray Taryn. and like… kind of? she certainly doesn’t betray Taryn as directly as Taryn betrays her—but some of that just strikes me as dumb luck. consider what might’ve happened if Dain hadn’t died at the end of book one. what lengths might he have asked Jude to go to in order to prove her loyalty to him? or if we rewind even further—it’s honestly just dumb luck that someone didn’t harm or kill Taryn (Valerian, for example, could've chosen the wrong window). Jude’s antagonism of Cardan & his friends had a direct effect on Taryn’s life, and even though Taryn begged her to stop, she bullheadedly charged on. the difference is that Jude’s risky decisions ultimately work out for her, while Taryn has to face the consequences of hers not panning out the way she wanted them to.
this isn't exhaustive, and there’s so much more I could say, but this is already so long. so in conclusion, the reason all this matters to me personally is twofold:
at its best, fiction teaches us empathy. part of why I love tfota is because it takes characters & dynamics that are really messy & helps you, the reader, understand where everyone is coming from & why. the fact that we love Madoc is a testament to fiction’s ability to do this. so why is a teenage girl treated like the true villain of this story? what about her makes us incapable of empathy? why, in the mind of the fandom, is she not allowed forgiveness (or even just a chance at redemption) for the harm she's caused, while other characters are? I see people stanning Nicasia, who actively tortured Jude (over a boy, no less!!) ffs
fandom misogyny reflects our world. why are people eager to forgive toxic male love interests, yet hold the bar impossibly high for girls? why is there such a narrow set of choices & behaviors that we consider acceptable for female characters? Holly wrote a story about two young women carving out places for themselves in a world hostile to them, hurting each other in the process, and ultimately deciding to forgive, love, and root for one another—and fandom has taken that complex narrative and pitted them against one another, upholding one as the girlboss who can do no wrong while treating the other as scum. misogyny thrives on women treating each other like the problem, so if this is our attitude toward a fictional story where we’re afforded direct looks into characters’ thoughts, how much worse are we going to be in the real world, faced with real, imperfect women?
anyways, in conclusion: you're entitled to dislike taryn, but if you feel such vitriol toward her that you're literally making hate posts (or commenting under fanart of her!! holy shit), I invite you to interrogate where that hate actually comes from. fin.
#if you want to argue with me that’s fine - I just ask that you’re respectful#one critique i do have is that holly didn't allow jude & taryn to have a good convo in qon#taryn didn't have the full picture until pretty late in the narrative#and i think allowing them to hash things out would've really helped with a lot of fandom's shitty behavior towards taryn#because instead what we get is her repeatedly *acting* in ways that support jude#like she's pretty ride or die for all of qon#and i read that pretty redemptively#but it's not explicitly stated/talked through#so#thanks for the ask <3#will anyone read all of this?? we shall see#long post#tfota#the folk of the air#taryn duarte#tarynposting#jude duarte#taryn discourse#taryn hate#fandom misogyny#tcp#the cruel prince#twk#the wicked king#tqon#the queen of nothing#anon
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"somehow, in spite of all of my feelings of isolation and detachment form the world, my sarcastic spearation and absurdist observing, i am a part of it, im there, and its letting me. the world is letting me pass. im doing just fine. i can stop into the gas staion and fill up the tank and pay with a card and not get arrested, not get flooded with lights and snipers, not be jumped by men of tired jokes and boring clothes and poor musical taste, throwing a sack over myhead and asking mke who i think i am. i cant talk to most people, i cant agree, but somehow ive slipped through the netting and am here, alone, unaccompianed, unstopped. how can i be in lisbon? what the fuck am i doing in lisbon? how can the world of men have let me here? im not that kind of man...i look up at planes overhead and start laughing out loud, start laughing like a maniac as loud as i can and still am left alone. there are old buildings and cars, yes, but there is still ocean and grass and sky, im still there and conneceted through those pieces of nature. and i can laugh at the things i see and wonder at the words people tell me and feel so alone, but im free to do so, i am free to act and think this way. i am getting away with it."
#i feel like i've posted bits of this one before but i don't feel like checking#this is one of those dave malloy pieces that has altered my brain chemistry#ill be on the bus on my way to work#or sitting in the theater on my lunch break#or walking down the street in a new part of town#and just think#how can the world of men have let me here...#im not that kind of man...#alone unaccompanied unstopped#i'm getting away with it#dave malloy#pointless dave malloy
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Why bother? (Why bother?)
It's gonna hurt me. (It's gonna hurt me.)
It's gonna kill when- (Why bother!)
-You desert me! (Gonna hurt me!)
Set after Nightmare. Laios is reminiscing and contemplating.
#laishuro#laios touden#i make a lot of jokes on here since part of the fun of this blog for me is limiting myself to only expressing ideas via drawings#as much as I can to try to see what I can try to convey in the limited time I have to draw each day which is sometimes like 15minutes#but laios idea of who shuro was to him and who he continues to be and how it ties into his own feelings of self worth and self hatred#not to mention being so thoroughly defined by having never been indulged before by the men in his life#are so compelling to me#and then of course you mix in toshiros own mind prisons#and their established dynamic of him begrudgingly putting up with him because he feels he has to and bc hes cursed with obedience#whilst laios genuinely thinks shuro does it because he likes it and likes laios because why else would anyone act like that#when everyone else in his life has not hesitated to Let Him Know#this is what is so fun about relationships like this…forever passing by each other’s true feelings like ships in the night#and on toshiros side umineko said it best People are riddles. They want someone else to solve their riddle#they live life wanting someone to solve the riddle that they are#the most difficult riddle in the world#without love the truth cannot be seen sighhhh many such cases#sometimes i get embarassed how deep i get for some of the characters in this series it really is that deep sometimes but not always#but WHATEVER#i never even engaged in or was interested in shipping the several years i read dunmeshi EXCEPT laishuro lol#which i sadistically wanted to stay one sided and miserable forever. I rarely get fed such genuinely fraught dynamics as their one in manga#so i became obsessed#and walked through the desert alone for 40 years and then checked in as anime started airing that other people ship this and gaf#and decided to unleash the jokes and ideas that my like 2 friend who like anime previously suffered alone as though they were jesus christ#now tho as much as I still enjoy tragedy and pain and emotional suffering I’ve let love and peace and requited fulfilled yaoi into my life#with laishuro. and its great!#my comics
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literally just saw some radfem bullshit on my dash, & then when I went to their blog to block them not only was it full of anti-trans half arguments & accusations of other people being childish, but one of the very first posts was about how a certain show would be better if one of the main characters was a young woman instead of an old man because they "don't like old people"
#there is no point to this other than i'm pissed and tired of having terf bullshit pass my dash#i feel like i'm gonna have to get that eye thing because i don't super vet the blogs i interact with casually#so as long as they're not immediately anti queer i usually don't notice#and then i've got fucking radfem shit in my 'based on your likes' feed#all because i interacted with feminism stuff that - without the anti-trans lens - seemed totally fine#& like terfs are already shitty people but i feel like the anti older person sentiment just further highlighted the fact that#terfs are just shitty hypocrytical people who play the 'poor me boo hoo you're all childish' card & act like they're so fucking superior#& that any trans folks are terrible#and then turn around and spout all kinds of bigotry#but it's okay i guess because they've got a vagina <3 (& experience the exact same kind of misogyny that tons of us do but they're special)#ALSO#I learned what 'moid' means and you guys are fucking assholes#men are not just mindless sex freaks you fucking cunts#& the fact that you think that just shows how warped your sense of the world is#you 'hate the patriarchy' but aren't interested in actually dismantling it#how could you when you don't even view half of the people involved as really human!#fuck off#terfs and radfems aren't welcome here and you can all kick rocks#i try my best for this to be a queer friendly space and i want that to be clear right fucking now#if anyone who follows me has bothered to read this please let me know if i've accidentally reblogged something from the 'drop the t' crowd#i am not the golden standard queer or whatever the fuck the term is#but i dont ever want someone to think that i'm part of that crowd
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having to restrain from saying anything when my dad dares to say that men get paid LESS than women. in what world. are you out of your fucking mind old man.
#ow.err#IN WHAT WORLD ARE MEN PAID LESS THAN WOMEN.#like. i shouldnt be surprised he said that bc he watched and/rew t/ate and jo/e rog/an so like. of fucking course he'd think that.#but like dude. you have no idea what youre talking about.#and there is NO WAY im gonna even try to tell him otherwise bc he is. loud. yk.#im just gonna. leave that there. bc its not my responsibility to 'fix' my parents as much as id love to try.#its just not my responsibility. and itll prob just end in me getting screamed at anyways since they wont listen to me or anything i say#cuz im still a kid in their eyes ! ! ! !!!! ! ! so cool ! ! ! ! ! !#almost 20. father doesnt think i know how to wake myself up w/o being woken up by someone else.#SO INSULTING BTW. i always get up on time. no matter what. nearly 20 and he thinks im a fking child still#both my mom and dad do but my dad does it in an 'underestimating' me way and my mom does it in a 'tries to overly coddle me' way#you know? i dunno. i dunno. i wanna move out but money is so fked rn. and idk how to do like. anything. so im just...#gonna do my classes and try to get a nice job and save up for awhile before i actually move out to my own place#im also kind of scared bc idk if ill have the. will to care for myself once i move out. like im worried ill just let myself die#sso. things to. work on before i get out of here i guess. but the thing is this environment will not let me heal. ahhh !!!!!!!!!#the only way out is through!!! through and scared!!!!!!!!!!!! tmrw marks the start of my life potentially starting to change. for the bette#but still changing. and oh man. im very nervous. its scary#cuz like. i didnt think id live past like 12 ??? so to be almost 20 and very behind on 'adult things' is. scary?daunting?#it all almost feels unreal. like im reaching a part of my life i never thought id actually reach. it feels like ive been living on#borrowed time since 12 so now im like. damn i have to live dont i. i have to actively make this life worth living now#some days i still worry itll be my last but ... im just gonna try to take it one step at a time. its all i can do.#be as prepared as i can. and take it one step at a time. i clutch onto the hope that my life will get better#and i clutch onto it with an iron grip. because damn it. it has to get better than this. it has to.#wow this got derailed. oh well my poast my rules.
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AGE IS NOTHING BUT A NUMBER — GETO SUGURU.
kinktober day two — overstimulation ; find masterlist here
synopsis. befriending nanako and mimiko has its perks—like fucking their father, for example. suguru might have aged over the years, but that doesn't mean he's lost his touch. don't believe him? that's okay—he can always just show you instead
length. 5.3k words (bro this fic was agonizing)
contents. minors do not interact, fem! reader, dilf! suguru, college au (reader is a student), age gaps (20+ difference), jealous suguru, teasing, cunnilingus, fingering, edging, nipple play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, angel)
notes. this took me so long bc i hate it so im posting it and running away to play genshin to slave away for primos
most people can tell their best friends everything. not you, though—you have a secret. a dirty, shameful, horrible little secret, in fact.
no one knows that every chance you get, every small little moment you can possibly squeeze in, you fuck your two best friends’ father—and it’s going to stay that way, unknown and forever hidden. suguru is young as far as parents go, just barely in his twenties when he’s found himself a single father of two, but that doesn’t mean he’s not too old for you. and it especially doesn’t mean that it’s not inappropriate to fuck the man that raised your two closest friends.
you meet nanako and mimiko during your freshman year of college—the rest is history. the first time you spend the night at their place, suguru (he insists you call him that on your first meeting) is overjoyed that his girls have someone as lovely as you.
who wouldn’t be? you’re smart, well-mannered, respectable, and incredibly studious. what a perfect role model for his girls—after all, every father’s worst nightmare is his sweet, precious daughters venturing off to the real world. men are dogs—suguru should know. they’re sleazy and prey on young women who are naive and unsuspecting, taking advantage of their hopefulness before completely destroying their innocence. suguru can’t bear the idea of his perfect little girls becoming victims of such sinister behavior—but that’s all quelled when he meets you.
but he never thought, not even for one second, that he’d become one of those men.
those older men who fuck girls half their age—the girls that are barely in their twenties and still don’t even really understand how taxes work. the girls that have just started to learn how to hold their alcohol and can only recently buy it legally. the girls who don’t realize how complicated adulthood can be, just barely spreading their wings and learning what it’s like to be free.
suguru has always found those men deplorable. they’re the awful, disgusting, untamed vermin of society—women must be protected from them at all costs.
but now? well….now he’s one of them—and he finds, even as disgusted with himself as he is from time to time, he has little regrets.
not when you’re sprawled under him, hands tracing over his bare chest, feeling the soft skin under your palms in wonder. suguru, though he’s not let himself go by any means, is past his prime—he still frequents the gym, and he has more time to go now that the girls are gone most of the day, but he’s not immune to the effects of aging.
his hair has more than a few strands of white sprinkled in now; nanako makes sure to remind him not to pull them out unless he wants more. he’s still managed to keep the abs he was once so proud of in his youth, but they’re still not as hard—layered over a slight belly that he can’t seem to get rid of no matter what he tries. his skin is a bit looser, and his eyes have slight wrinkles in the corners of them, but despite it all, suguru still looks as handsome as ever.
he’s aged well, still looks remarkably young for men his age, and still looks like that dashing young man he once was who stole hearts. in fact, he still hears about his looks, especially from nanako and mimiko’s friends—he’s always chuckled to himself and shook his head in amusement.
that’s your dad? god, he’s so hot.
what? he’s single? oh my gosh, do you need a mom?
i can’t believe he’s never been married—women in his generation don’t deserve him. i’ll take him off their hands.
wait, do you have pictures of him when he was younger?
oh my god, he’s so fine. are you sure he’s in his forties?
nanako and mimiko, bless their hearts, have always crinkled their noses at the…less than proper comments they’ve had to witness about their father. in fact, they’ve watched teachers practically throw themselves onto suguru at parent-teacher conferences. it’s bothersome—a little disturbing to hear their friends talk about all the things they’d let their dad, of all people, do to them.
but you? you don’t make unhinged comments. they appreciate that.
but if only they knew…
if only they knew that sometimes, like right now, when you’re spending the night, you don’t actually sleep—instead, you sneak off to their father’s room, lay on his mattress under his body, and feel his touch. you can feel him, hard and throbbing in his sweats as his clothed cock presses against your thigh—but he takes his time with you, and doesn’t do anything about the clear arousal pooling between your legs just yet.
instead, he focuses on remembering your body—it’s been a while, after all. he hasn’t felt your hips, hasn’t tasted your skin, hasn’t heard your voice.
“missed you,” suguru breathes, hovering over you as you hum, nipping at your skin as his nose brushes along your neck. your hand is playing with his hair, twisting long, black and white strands along your fingers. “haven’t seen you in a bit, angel.”
“i’ve had midterms,” you murmur.
suguru knows—nanako and mimiko have been studying for them themselves. he’s more than a little disappointed that you haven’t come over to study with them yet. but then, just the other night, mimiko mentions you’ve been spending your time with a boy at the library, sharing a table as you lean over his shoulder to look at his laptop. nanako giggles that you might have finally gotten yourself a boyfriend. mimiko hums and nods as she murmurs it’s about time.
suguru swallows down every bite of dinner with an aftertaste of bile that night.
a boy—a boy? you’ve been skipping coming over to study with the girls (and, by default, seeing him) just to study with some boy? what’s got your attention on the guy so badly? why would you break the routine you’ve had for the last few semesters for someone you just recently met? have you finally started to realize that this is a mistake? is suguru a mistake?
he thinks maybe not, now that you’re back in his bed—but he still has too many unanswered questions.
“so i’ve heard,” he says lowly, “i’ve also heard there’s a certain boy on your radar.” he smiles bitterly, pulling away from your neck to stare at you with those dark, sharp eyes of his. “a much younger, and fitting match for you, i suppose.”
you roll your eyes, snorting.
“is that what nanako and mimiko have told you? honestly, those two,” you huff fondly, “i told them already. he’s just my partner for a presentation. we’re practicing.”
“oh?” suguru raises a brow—and then he shivers lightly when you lean up and kiss his jaw, eyes fluttering shut at your touch.
“yes,” you giggle, “no need to be jealous of someone half your age, you know.”
“that’s exactly why i’m jealous,” he breathes, leaning in to kiss you softly.
your lips taste like honey—probably sweeter, in fact. they drip with that decadent, saccharine taste of youth. he feels twenty again every time he kisses you, feels not a day older than his glory days.
“oh, you poor thing,” you grin, cupping his face as you scatter kisses along his cheeks and nose, thumb tracing the skin. fuck, is this what it feels like to be in love? it makes him feel so young, so free, and hopeful for the future. when was the last time he felt this way? “have you been losing sleep over my nonexistent college boyfriend?”
“well, kids your age fool around quite a bit,” he says in that father tone that he uses on nanako and mimiko, “what was i supposed to think?”
you’ve heard that tone so many times before; the one where he talks like he knows better, like he’s wiser, like he’s aware of something you’re not.
girls, make sure you share your location with me—i need to find you in case anything happens. it’s for your own safety, end of discussion.
make sure you watch over your drinks, okay? men these days take every chance they get to spike them when you’re not looking. mimiko, i was your age once, too. i’ve seen this happen plenty.
don’t walk alone in the streets at night. call me. i’ll pick you up—no, nanako, it’s not lame. the streets are dangerous at night. there are creeps, you know.
don’t get into any boy’s cars, girls. you never know what’ll happen; one mistake is all it takes to ruin your life—hey, don’t roll your eyes at me. one day, you’ll understand i’m right.
“i’m not a kid,” you pout, and then, smugly this time, you wiggle your brows. “did’ya lose sleep over my imaginary boyfriend? you need plenty of sleep at your age, y’know.”
“no, you’re not a kid,” suguru agrees, “you’re a brat.” and then he’s back to pressing those hot, open-mouthed, hungry kisses along your jaw, humming in delight when you angle your head to give him better access.
sometimes, it’s fun to get under suguru’s skin—it’s fun to break that carefully built, mature patience of his, pulling a twitch of his eye and a furrow of his brow from him. so, you grin widely as you murmur, “who knows? maybe he’d fuck better—more stamina, y’know?”
it’s supposed to just tease him, to make him glare at you unimpressed so you can giggle and kiss between his brows—but suguru stills at that, painfully stiff for a moment before he bites at your skin. hard.
“oh yeah?” he hisses, his voice low and dangerous as he pulls away to glare down at you, “you think so? what, you think an old man like me can’t fuck you long enough?”
you don’t get a chance to reply—not before he pulls your pants down your waist to reveal your soaked panties, pulling a hum from him as he grins at the damp patch of fabric. his fingers circle over your clit for a moment, right over the cloth, making your breath hitch as you buck into his touch.
“suguru—”
“look at that,” he chuckles, “wearing my favorite one, huh? can’t fuck you that bad if you try your best to impress me. isn’t that what you wanted? is that what you were thinking when you put these on before coming over? how precious,” he murmurs—he speaks so condescending, so knowingly, as if he’s read your mind just by looking at the red lace covering your dripping cunt. you cover your face in humiliation, but he grabs your wrists and pins them over your head, clicking his teeth in disapproval.
part of you knows you should quit while you can—the other part? well…it wants to test the limits a bit longer. suguru has never been so easy to rile up, you want to indulge in it for just a bit longer if you can help it.
“well,” you huff, “what’re you waiting for, then? don’t tell me the age has slowed you down—”
“you really don’t know when to quit, do you?” he says in a low snarl, “fine, you want me to hurry up? you got it, princess.”
it all happens before you can even register—one moment, you’re grinning at him with mischief in your eyes; the next second, he has you in nothing but your bra, bare in his bed as he pulls your legs apart and leans close to your pussy.
“you know the thing about guys your age,” he hums, toying with your clit lazily as you gasp with a twitch, “is that they really don’t know how to take care of anyone but themselves. guess they just don’t have enough experience to really figure it out.”
his lips latch onto your clit, sucking before he rolls his tongue over the sensitive bud as his fingers sink into your core, pushing past your folds and stretching you open. it’s slow—deliberately so, in fact. it makes your head spin, and your fingers curl into the bed sheets as you pant.
“suguru, m-more—”
“don’t worry,” he coos, pulling away from you to grin up at your glossy eyes, “you’ll get plenty, baby. we’ll see if you’ve got the stamina. y’know, since you’re so young.”
his lips are back to wrap around your clit, fingers sinking and curling exactly where you’re most sensitive—suguru finds your sweet spots instantly the first time he has you sprawled under him. didn’t even take a moment of trial, just knew where to touch and kiss to have you unravel in his hold. that much still hasn’t changed—his fingertips press against the sensitive spot in the back of your walls, pulling pretty little whines from you as his tongue flicks over your clit.
it’s always been a blessing that nanako and mimiko’s room is across the house—had they been closer, they might hear the mewl you let out as his fingers bully into you faster, unforgiving as they brush against your walls and build the ache up between your legs until it’s about to burst.
“s-suguru, ‘m close, so, so close—”
“already?” he gasps, chuckling as he presses a kiss to your clit with a sly grin, “thought you had more in you than that, baby. so youthful—figured you’d last a bit longer.”
he’s mean about it—rubs it in your face some more that you’re so close so fast before he pulls his fingers away and doesn’t even give you the satisfaction of falling apart on his digits. it makes you sob, hips bucking up to chase the friction of his fingers, but he’s already gone, leaving your walls empty and fluttering around nothing.
“no,” your voice breaks, “n-no, so close, please. i want—”
“that’s what he would’ve done,” suguru hums, “pulled out before you even finished. that’s what guys your age always do—they don’t know how to make girls finish. you ever had that problem with me?”
“no,” you say quickly, shaking your head. you’re a pretty little thing, he thinks—pouty, wobbly lips and those glossy eyes as you sniffle. “no, you always make me cum—please, i wanna cum, sugu.”
“yeah?” he pouts with faux sympathy, “didn’t feel good, huh? feels better when i take care of you, doesn’t it?”
“uh huh,” you nod—you’re still panting through the aftershocks of having your orgasm ripped from you, chest rising and falling harsh enough that it fills him with pride he can pull such drastic reactions from you. no one knows your body like suguru—he’s too good at giving it what it wants for anyone else to compare.
“think that boy—” he spits the last word like it’s poison on his tongue, “—can take care of you?”
“no,” you whimper, “no, he can’t. not like you, never like you.”
“that’s a good girl,” he nods approvingly, rubbing his slick-coated finger over your clit, toying with it teasingly as you writhe, whining for more. “you know something else about men your age? they don’t care to please a woman—don’t bother to appreciate them enough to make them feel good. you think that boy would be here—” he pauses to motion between your legs, where he’s currently situated, “—willingly? taste you willingly? let you cum on his tongue willingly?”
“i-i don’t…i never asked someone to—”
“did you ever ask me?” he interrupts, raising a brow at you, “you ever have to ask me? i just do it. wanna know why? because i know what i’m doing—know how to treat you right, how to give you what you need. isn’t that right?”
“yes, yes—you always give me what i want—”
“what you need,” he corrects, “and you know what i think you need right now? this.”
his tongue licks a stripe along your entrances before you can say anything else, pulling a gasp out of you as your hands find his hair and tug—suguru groans at that, feels his pants get impossibly tighter as the aching erection he sports throbs between his legs at the way you pull at the strands so desperately, so needy. for him. only ever him.
his tongue fucks into you, messy with the way he devours you, the slick arousal pooling from your cunt coating his lips, his cheeks, his chin. you moan—and really, it’s almost a squeal—when his fingers are sinking back into you, tongue flicking away at your clit mercilessly as he thrusts his digits in and out of your pussy. you’re close, painfully so, the pressure steadily building and building until you just can’t hold it back anymore.
“sugu—’m c-cumming. god ‘s so good—feels good,” you babble, thighs closing around his head as his fingers curl into your sweet spot over and over again, not stopping for even a second as he helps you ride out your high. your walls spasm around his fingers, tight as they flutter around him and make him groan at the thought of being inside you.
he watches, hungry and in awe, as your back arches off the mattress and your mouth parts, broken little wails of his name rolling off your tongue in a sweet melody.
“i bet he’s never seen someone look like this,” suguru murmurs, watching the way the ecstasy takes over your features as your face falls slack from pleasure, “so pretty when falling apart. bet he’d never even get close to making you look so fucked from just his tongue.”
your orgasm ripples through you—it’s not new, the way he makes you feel so good, but it’s definitely nothing to get used to either. your body slumps back onto the mattress as you finish, panting harshly while he climbs up to hover over you once again.
“that felt good?” he asks, nosing at your cheek as you nod breathlessly.
“yeah,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“hope you’re not tired out just yet,” he says smugly, eyeing the way sweat clings to your forehead and huffs of air exhale from your lungs with each labored breath, “because we’re nowhere near done, baby. not even close.”
just like that, your bra is unclasped and pulled off, freeing your tits for his mouth to latch onto a nipple, sucking and lightly grazing his teeth along the bud while his fingers tease at the other, pinching and rubbing over it with his thumb. you whine, eyes squeezing shut as your hand cups the back of his head and keeps him in place.
“bet i could make you cum just from this,” he says with a laugh, “i don’t even need to fuck you.”
“please,” you dig your nails into his shoulder, moaning as he switches to wrap his lips around the other nipple, “please, sugu—n-need more.”
“be more specific,” he says lowly, looking up at you in amusement, “gonna need more than that, princess. you gotta help me out here—i’m afraid i don’t know what i’m doing.”
suguru is doing everything he can to drag this out—if you’d known one small comment would have him riled up like this…well, truthfully, you can’t say you wouldn’t have made it anyway. it’s exciting in its own right when he’s so determined to show you why you need him, why no one else but him is meant to see you like this, make you fall apart like this, have you sprawled under them like this.
no one can know about you and suguru—not nanako and mimiko, not your other friends, not your family. you know what they’d say, how they’d feel.
disgust—shame, even. he’s far too old for you, you know they’d say; he’s a red flag for getting with someone so young. no one can know that you come here, dead in the middle of the night when your friends are asleep, and fuck their father. not only that—lay with their father, talk about your hopes and dreams for the future with their father, giggle as you gossip with their father, fall in love with their father.
something tells you the feeling is not unreciprocated—that suguru feels the same, that he loves holding you in his arms just as much as you love laying in them. maybe it wasn’t a joke, what you’d said. not to him, at least—maybe deep down, it stung; maybe he had something to prove. that boy might be closer to you in age, but he’ll never, ever treat you the way suguru does—no one will, for that matter. perhaps he has to show it so you really know.
so you look him in the eye, pull him closer until his forehead is pressed against yours and you can press a delicate kiss to his lips before you murmur against them, “fuck me, suguru. please—need you.”
he groans at that, closes his eyes before his hips move to press the thick tip of his cock against your folds, dragging it along your entrance as he coats his head with your slick. it’s flushed a deep pink—it’s been neglected for so long that he shudders at the way it aches, at the way even the slightest friction along the sensitive tip pulls a soft gasp from him.
for a moment, he wonders if he really will last long enough to fuck you properly—he might not, with the way your walls always squeeze around him, always have him ready to fuck his load into you just as soon as he’s inside you. the thought alone almost makes his cock twitch—but suguru is a man of patience, so he slowly pushes into you, inch by inch, looking down and watching as his girth disappears inside you.
“look at that,” he coos, grinning wide as he looks back up at you, “took me so easily. ‘s cause when you do it right, it doesn’t take much, does it?”
“f-fuck—” your head presses back against the pillow, mouth hung open as you breathe heavily, trying to squirm and get even the slightest bit of friction from him as he stays painfully still. “move, suguru—please, c-can’t wait anymore. jus’ wanna feel you.”
“i know,” he chuckles, “patience is a virtue, sweetheart.”
despite it all, suguru is not feeling very patient anymore—it’s been long enough. his hips roll slowly at first, a shallow thrust of his hips that makes you both moan lowly before he all but pulls out and slams back in, hard. you can feel the burning stretch of his girth practically splitting you open, every thick vein dragging along your cunt and every brush of his tip against the back of your walls. it’s loud—the sound of skin slapping against skin, the sound of his deep groans and your breathless whines, the sound of the headboard hitting the wall as he fucks you into his mattress.
“god—fuck, suguru—th-there,” you mewl as he slams into you right where you need him.
you’ve lost count of how many times suguru has fucked you like you’re his. in his bed at night, in his shower in the mornings, on the couch when you drop by when the girls aren’t home, in his car that one time he drove you home when it rained, in your apartment that one time he dropped off your laptop because you forgot it. there’s one common denominator—the way he makes you feel, not just from the way his cock ruts into you, but from the way his fingers tangle with yours, from the way his mouth finds your jaw to kiss, from the way his forehead presses into your shoulder with warmth.
it’s exciting, maybe. at first, it’s scandalous and a little thrilling in its own right. by now, it’s something much more than that—you don’t think anyone could make you feel the way he does, fuck you like he does, even if they tried. even if they knew where to touch and where to kiss. even if they knew what you liked and what you didn’t.
they couldn’t be suguru—would never be suguru.
“there, huh?” he pants, moaning softly as he feels your walls flutter around him tightly, “i know. i know how to fuck this pussy—my pussy. you think some boy you hardly know would know? think he’d care to learn? think he’d even try?”
“no,” you gasp, shaking your head as your hips buck up to meet his sharp thrusts, “no. no one would make me feel this good. make me feel so good, sugu.”
“ngh—sh-shit,” he hisses at your words, cock almost swelling harder at the way you praise him, at the way your words are almost slurred with no real thought behind him. it’s a little pride-inducing, the way you’re still able to sing his praises without having to really think about it first. he can hear it, the way you’re lost in the drag of his cock, drunk in the haze of pleasure, unfocused on everything else besides the way he bullies his thick girth into your abused cunt.
it’s a mess, it’s filthy the way there’s a mix of pre cum and your slick at the base of his cock, along your inner thighs, coating your skin as the squelching sound of him nudging past your folds fills the room.
it’s good, the way he makes you feel—he can hear it in your voice as you wail his name.
“s-suguru—oh.”
“what, you gettin’ all fucked out on me? ‘m not even close yet, princess,” he hums, leaning down to kiss your neck as he sucks softly into your sweet spot. you throw your head back, rasping out a cry of his name again as his balls slap against your ass with a harsh roll of his hips.
and then his hand makes its way between your bodies, thumb attaching itself to your clit before rubbing punishing circles into the bundle of nerves—you sob at that, back arching up as your chest presses against his, nipples hard as they brush along his skin.
“s-sugu—close, ‘m gonna cum a-again—so close,” you pant brokenly, every sentence cut off with a sharp gasp as he thrusts into you.
you’re close—you can’t fight back the way the coil in your belly snaps as he teases your clit. it’s still sensitive from the last orgasm, every nerve still burning up from before as he gives you more, gives you too much, almost. you cum harder this time—your second high creeping up on you when you least expect it.
it makes your eyes roll back, makes your thighs quiver, and tears stream down your cheeks as you chant his name over and over. suguru, ‘s so good. suguru, ‘m cumming. suguru, ‘s all for you.
every sentence makes his cock drill into you faster, sloppier in rhythm, maybe, but faster. needier. bordering on desperate.
“f-fuck, baby,” he grunts, “squeezin’ me so tight—such a tight fuckin’ cunt. you think just anyone deserves this? think you can just walk around and let anyone fuck this? ‘s bullshit—ngh.”
you don’t answer—can’t answer, in fact. it’s all teary eyes and soft sniffles as you mewl with every thrust, voice breaking between every pretty little sound you make. he’s still fucking into you, still dragging his cock against those sensitive walls, still bumping against your clit with his navel, still nudging against your sweet spot with his thick, swollen tip. it’s almost too much—it is too much, making you writhe under his body as you try to form the words.
“‘s t-too much, sugu—c-can’t anymore,” you try, “can’t.”
“what?” he gasps, furrowing his brows in mock confusion, “you’re tappin’ out on me already? but ‘m not even done yet, sweetheart. haven’t even finished yet—don’t tell me you’re already spent. how will you keep up with your little boyfriend’s stamina if you can’t even take an old man like me?”
“c-can’t take anyone but you,” you sob, “jus’ you—only you. promise.”
“yeah? you swear?”
“uh huh. jus’ you, sugu—don’ want anyone else. won’t fuck me the same.”
“atta girl,” he coos, chuckling as he leans down to kiss your jaw, trailing soft pecks until he meets your lips, “that’s what i thought. make sure you don’t forget, okay?”
“fuck, suguru—’m…g-gonna…”
“gonna what? cum? you’re cumming again?” you nod at that—he grins wide, pride settling into the crinkles of his eyes before his thumb rubs harsh circles into your swollen clit once more. he looks pretty like that—hair framing his face, the mix of black and white strands sticking to the damp skin of his forehead. his skin is flushed, abs flexing as he pants over you. sometimes you feel guilty that half of why you come over to visit nanako and mimiko is to fuck suguru—the guilt is quickly extinguished when you see him like this, bottom lip caught between his teeth as his arms barely hold him over you, eyes shut tight as he groans.
“i-i’m—fuck, fuck, fuck,” you can’t form sentences anymore as you cum—again. not that you really could before that, but now all you can offer is croaked half-syllables and shaky sobs. your walls squeeze around him, tight as they hug around his throbbing cock.
it takes one, two, three more sloppy rolls of his hips before he lets out at a low, “baby, fuck—’m gonna fill you up. want that? want me to cum in you? make you mine? always been mine, haven’t you?”
“yes, yes—yours, sugu. yours, yours, yours,” you babble, words slurred between breathy moans and broken sobs. “wanna be yours.”
you can feel him—feel the way his cock twitches in you, the way he grinds into you to ride out his high, the way sticky, hot ropes of cum fill your walls, the way he fucks his load deeper into you with every sloppy thrust of his hips. his arms quiver as he holds himself over you—just barely, though. you can hear the way his voice cracks as he gasps your name over and over, as he mutters lowly about how you’re his, how you’ll always only be his.
“mine,” he grits, “you’re fuckin’ mine—see how you’re suckin’ me in? see how i fit in this pussy like it was made for me? ‘s cause you’re mine.”
his body slumps onto yours as he finishes, head pressed into the crook of your neck as he kisses the skin while you both catch your breaths. you whimper, still sensitive, as he pulls out of you, a soft chuckle falling past his lips as he pulls his head up to look at you and press a kiss to your cheek.
“so,” he starts, eyes laced with amusement as he takes in the fucked out look on your face, the tears still drying your cheeks, the swollen flush of your bottom lip, “still think you need someone with more stamina? someone who’ll fuck you better—”
“god,” you groan, slapping his shoulder, “will you drop it already? you got what you wanted, didn’t you?”
“no,” he murmurs, pecking your lips, “still wanna hear it some more.”
“your ego needs a reality check,” you huff as you brush a strand of hair from his forehead, “think i’ve fed it plenty all night.”
“actually, i think you crushed it,” he pouts theatrically, “talking about some asshole who doesn’t care about you right in front of me. after i take such good care of you, too. the girls already think you should date him,” he adds the last part with a slightly bitter roll of his eyes, pulling a giggle out of you.
“they think i don’t know how to talk to men,” you snort, “imagine they knew i was talking to men old enough to be my father.”
“hey,” he clicks his teeth, falling onto the mattress beside you—he pulls you into his chest, letting your cheek rest on his bare skin. it’s so wrong—lying in bed with the father of your best friends. but somehow, suguru feels like the only thing you’ve ever done right. “age is nothing but a number, sweetheart.”
if i have to see the word cock one more time im going to eradicate all humans that have them
do not comment about a part 2 !!!!!!!!!!
#🎃 — kinkteeber !!#teepods.writings#fics.#thirstee!#geto x reader#geto smut#geto x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#geto suguru smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut
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TAKE OFF YOUR PANTIES, HUH .ᐟ
ft. jjk men & their reactions to your new lingerie set <3
cw : highly suggestive. cursing. mentions of oral f!r, fingering, squirting. allusions to s3x. petnames ( angel, baby, sweetheart, my love, doll, good girl ). @sinugu @vegazm for youssss !! :>
ᰔ˚⊹ — GOJO
satoru thinks nothing in this world could ever top the sight of you in pretty white lace. you look like an angel, he’ll say. when he comes home from a long day at work, you’re his darling deity here to rescue him from his stressful life. satoru will stare at you, clad in your cheeky white panties and silky laced white bra. and maybe, he’s the devil to your angel, because he’s ready to ravage you like a wild animal as soon as he walks through the door. he rips your brand new set ? that’s alright, he can always buy you a new one.
“ all dressed up f’me ? fuck, s’pretty. c’mere angel, promise i wont bite. ”
ᰔ˚⊹ — GETO
suguru swears under his breath the moment he walks into your shared room and sees you all dressed in pretty pastel pink. he’ll pretend to be all nice and calm at first, but don’t let the good guy act fool you, because as soon as he reaches the end of the bed where you reside, you’re absolutely done for. he’ll make you keep that set on when he’s licking a stripe up your panties, only letting you take them off when you’re practically begging for him to stop teasing. that’s only the beginning of it, because you’re still clad in your pink bra 3 orgasms later, and he’s still nose deep in your pussy.
“ oh ? s’cute, baby. now lemme get a taste of those new panties, yeah ? ”
ᰔ˚⊹ — CHOSO
choso is almost as flustered as you are. walking in to see his precious girlfriend, all dressed up in periwinkle lace and frilly hems. oh, you just look so cute and so tempting he cant help but grow hard almost immediately upon entering the room. his cheeks will grow into a furious blush, face red and hot as he compliments you and your stunning new lingerie. but be careful, because once choso has you, you might not be able to get away. he’ll beg you to keep the whole set on the entire time, sucking around your plush tits and running his fingers over your soaked panties, completely desperate and eager to have you all to himself.
“ you look so beautiful, sweetheart. can i touch you ? please ? wanna feel you so bad... ”
ᰔ˚⊹ — SUKUNA
ryomen gets cocky from seeing you all dressed up, and it’s just for his eyes only. his hands will explore every crevice of you they can, finger hooking on your red bra strap to chuckle at the way you whimper when it snaps back. he’ll have you sat on his lap, holding you still at his mercy on his kings chair. oh, and you might want to get yourself another set of garments, because those panties are going straight into his pocket for later when he’s done with you.
“ yeah ? got all prettied up f’me ? come sit on my lap like a good girl, you deserve a throne. ”
ᰔ˚⊹ — NANAMI
nanami thinks that this is just what he needed. coming home to his pretty girl after a days worth of frustration, eager to let out his stress on you. and god, that lingerie looked so good he practically fell to his knees the second he made it through the door. he’ll have you pressed up against his chest, shushing you as you whine and squirm in his hold as his fingers drill into you at an unforgiving speed. he’ll keep going, pleasing you to no end until you’re bucking your hips and squirting all over his hand.
“ so gorgeous, my love. such a good girl f’me. let me show you just how much this means to me, hm ? ”
ᰔ˚⊹ — TOJI
toji believes that he’s just won the lottery, and you’re his shining prize. all fancied up in sleek black lingerie, lace and mesh covering the expanse of your desirable skin. he’s ready to give you exactly what you want, if you’ll let him have you. and don’t be upset if he rips your pretty fishnets, because he’ll just fuck that cute pout off your face. he’ll pound into you mercilessly from behind, obscene hole ripped into your tights so he can fit inside you just right.
“ aw, how precious. don’t worry, i’ll treat ya nice. face down, ass up, doll. ”
©KISSINKOU — do not copy, steal, plagiarize, take inspo from without consulting, or translate my work.
@/nyyrami has plagiarized this work of mine. please beware !!
#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#geto suguru#geto x reader#nanami kento#nanami x reader#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#choso kamo#choso x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk#choso smut#nanami smut#gojo smut#toji smut#sukuna smut#geto smut#jjk scenarios#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk gojo#jjk geto#jjk toji
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