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delusionalwh6re · 8 days

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neteyam sully headcanons

summary: how i think neteyam would be in a relationship

warnings: 🔞 this contains sfw AND nsfw content, you’re responsible for what you consume on the internet.

he’s aged up too before some of yall even start.

im sorry but these have to be literal facts…

- protective

THIS MAN IS SO PROTECTIVE OVER YOU

especially if you’re a human, be ready for him to just randomly pick you up or hold onto you like you’re a child

even when you’re na’vi and can easily stand up for yourself he doesn’t give a singular fuck

he will not hesitate to grab onto your waist and guide you where ever you need to go

“neteyam im fine”

“oh yes you are” he smirked at you

you couldn’t help but laugh at your man “will you please let me go? im literally just going to get water..”

“i know but i can’t let anything to my cute little sugar plum” he replied playfully

you pursed your lips and stared at him

“never say that shit again”

when he’s “jealous”

- he has that stern tone WHEWWW 🫦

- like if he tells u to do something he expects you to do it…

- and if you’re the “boy you not my daddy” typa girl, oh trust and believe all of that will change

“i don’t want you talking to him”

“we’re just friends neteyam”

“i don’t care, he’s obviously trying to court you”

“and who are you to tell me who i can’t be friends with? you’re not in control over me” you rolled your eyes

“not how it was last night” he crossed his arms

were you silent or silenced? 😕

-honestly i don’t think he’s the super jealous type

-like he’s not finna go bat shit crazy when he knows he has yo ass locked down yk?

-he’s definitely not afraid to put a mf in their place when they get outta line tho

his confidence 😍😍

- like i said, he knows he has you locked down

-even before you guys were together he was still confident in himself which is a reason why he got you in the first place

- he’s not the cocky type but he’s the “my girl ain’t leaving me for any of yall bums” type 😭

- he’s never afraid to show you off either

- when i tell you EVERYONE knows, they know..

- so him being confident in himself + your relationship = future marriage

his humor

- im so tired of some of yall trying to make it seem like neteyam is so innocent or has no sense of humor

- unfortunately we didn’t get to see much of him (james check ur walls tonight)

- but i just know this mf was funny and so out of pocket

- it’s always them quiet ones im tellin u 😭

- the two of you would have such a funny and just a fun relationship in general

- especially if both of you have a sense of humor which real bad bitches have

- i just feel like neteyam wouldn’t be with someone “boring” or “dry” you feel me?

- so the two of you have quite the time together

- the things you guys say to each other are so unhinged like…

you watched as neteyam fished

the way his muscles flexed and back tensed up whenever he prepared to catch his pray

you have never been so down bad for a man and you prayed to eywa that she never took him away (well…)

eywa had really blessed you with the most gorgeous man on pandora

‘i just wanna eat him’ you thought

“what are you staring at sevin?” he caught you staring

“have you ever had it sucked from the back?”

“THATS POSSIBLE?”

and

you and neteyam were playing around in the lab

you guys were minding your business until the two of you found this thing called a ‘face mask’

it was a slimy, cold and thick consistency

so the two of you decided to play with it after asking norm for permission

it was a mess at first but the two of you got it eventually…

the two of you had the black goop all over your face and of course the two of you couldn’t take it seriously

“you look like a really old pile of shit” neteyam laughed at your zoned out face

“shut up, you look like a sky person’s soul”

the two of you laughed at each other which made the mask crease but didn’t even care

he smirked and licked his lips “you should put some on your ass”

you smirked back “you should put some on your balls”

“only if you put it on for me” he rubbed your thighs with a goofy smile

“EWWWWWW” you giggled at him

his bond with kids 🥹

- now me personally i don’t fw kids like that it really depends but if neteyam wants to make our own clan im spreading my legs IMMEDIATELY

- you find the way he is with kids so adorable

- it honestly came natural to him since he was basically a third parent to all his siblings

- you would catch him playing with the kids in the village and felt your heart physically warm at the sight

- it lead to you having thoughts

- like how he would be with your own children?

- and when that finally does happen. oh eywa.

- he’s the best father ever

- no matter if you have a daughter or son first he’s so insistent on getting rid of the eldest sibling curse

- he refuses for your children to follow in his unwanted footsteps

- he loves his family and wouldn’t trade them for the world but he definitely wish he had more of a childhood

- this causes the bond with his children to be stronger than ever

- he’s so understanding

- your kids are never afraid to come to him about anything and he always gives them advice

- even when there’s subjects he’s a little uncomfortable with he never pushes his kids away

i want him to be my baby daddy.

when there’s an argument

- every relationship has ups and downs

- yours and neteyam’s had no exceptions

- you usually talk your disagreements out since it’s the mature thing to do but when there’s an argument…

- this actually doesn’t happen too often but when it does the both of you just let out that built up frustration

- it sounds toxic but the two of you actually find it healthy to bump heads every now and then

- the arguments never get physical

- which helps because at the end of the day when the both of you calm down and sit down to get your shit together, it’s so worth it

you made your way back to you and neteyam’s hut after the big fight you two got in this morning

to be honest you were dreading it

you knew you had to face neteyam eventually and running wasn’t the smarted option, you knew he would track you down if he needed to

you audibly sighed before opening the flap

he was sitting in front of the fire and turned his head at the scent of you

“hey” he mumbled while picking on his loincloth

“hi” you gave him an awkward smile

there was a silence growing

“im sorry” you both blurted out at the same time

the two of you softly laughed at that

“come here” he stood up and reached his arms out

you practically ran to your man to hug him tightly before the two of you settled down for the night and never letting each other go

warning 🔞: NSFW content starting below!!

this man’s mouth is FILTHY.

- yall think he’s so innocent huh?

- yeah no thanks im not buying that shit

- when he has you pinned down underneath him all that goes out the door!!

- he’ll literally be pounding yo shit while you grip onto him for dear life and this mf doesn’t make it any better

“pussy so good” he grunted in your ear

honestly you didn’t even hear him, it felt so good that you literally lost your common sense

“mhm neteyam” was the only thing you could moan out

“fuck” he let out a long moan as his thrusts started to get sloppier which meant he was close

your eyes rolled to back of your head and your jaw dropped as he picked up his pace

- all you could hear was

“i could stay inside of you forever”

“cum on this dick”

“you can take it”

“we’re not stopping i hope you know that”

“wake up for me baby so you can see me cum all inside you”

“i want you bent over after this im not done”

“you’re so pretty fucked out it’s almost funny”

UM HELLO???

there’s dirtier things than that but you guys can use your imagination.. 😏

- even outside of the bedroom this man has ZERO shame

- like if some goofy ass nigga was trying to holla at you neteyam is NOT with it

- this fool will be all up in neteyam’s face talkin about some “just wait until i have y/n, she’s gonna be all mine mwahahaha”

- all neteyam had to do was hit him with the

“well when you do let me know how my dick tastes on both of her lips”

- safe to say that wannabe kept his distance…

he’s a certified pussy devouring god.

- he don’t care whenever or wherever it is

- if he wants to eat he’s gonna EAT.

- he’ll put you on the ground, rock, sand, table, chair, ceiling, bed, mat, against the door, air, upside down, on the side, bent over, in a handstand, in a split, etc

- he does NAWT care. like at all.

- he loves eating that wap

- he loves the taste and scent of you

- like it’s an actual addiction

- he loves giving and receiving

- definitely giving more tho

- the way you squirm around, grip his hair and let out those sexy moans you do every time he hits that spot

-there’s literally been times when he came untouched to just the sound of you while eating you out…

- he doesn’t give a fuck how many times you cum, if he’s not covered in your juices then he’s not done

if there was a reward for best dick ever neteyam easily got that

- now let’s be honest… are we shocked?

- nope! #bbc

- like everything else in his life that dick game is top tier

- he just KNOWS what to do with it

- you never worry about him not hitting those spots because he does every single time 😫

- he can’t help but laugh at how you act on it too

- the way you let out a breathy moan as he slides into you

- the way you throw your head back when he throws your leg over his shoulder to thrust deeper inside you

- the way you had tears streaming down your face when riding him because he felt so much bigger and deeper in that position

- the way you throw your hand behind you when he’s blowing your back out to get him to slow down only for him to slap your hand away

- yall know that audio that says “dear diary, it’s now day 16 without dick and im starting to lose hearing in my left eye and taste in my right”

- that’s how you feel every time you and neteyam spend sexual time apart

- yeah that dick is powerful.

the aftercare. omfg HIS aftercare.

- after neteyam rearranges all of your insides he immediately tends to you

- he basically teleports to get a wet towel to gently clean you up with

- he’s placing kisses all over your ENTIRE body

- he never shys away with showing you affection in or out of the bedroom and now is one of those times

- he’s nonstop telling you “i love you” “you’re so perfect” “my beautiful girl”

-now you know it’s the bare minimum BUT wait hear me out!

- he makes it feel like HEAVEN

- he massages parts of your body while soothing you in a calm tone

- “you did so good for me” “took me so well mama”

- like boy stop before we go for round 69

- you cry almost every time he lets you know how special you are to him

- he literally thanks you for giving your body to him because you have no obligation to do that and he feels lucky every time you open up for him

your head hit the makeshift pillow underneath you with a soft thud as you let out a moan of exhaustion

“that was so” you stopped mid sentence to gather your breath

you heard neteyam chuckle at you. you turned your head with a soft smile to look at him

“that good huh?” he smirked positioning himself to hold you

“yes” you blushed hiding your head in his chest

he smirked “I can tell, i got you shaking like crazy”

you lifted your head up to glare at him “alright now not too much..”

he laughed at you as always before kissing your head and laying you back down on his chest. the two of you just soaked in each other’s presence. one of the favorite parts of your day.

actually it was your favorite

as you listened to his heart beat, you felt it pick up like he was thinking about something to make his heart race

you traced hearts on his chest “you okay love?”

“yeah” he said after a while

“don’t lie to me” you slid your hand up and down his abs

he stiffened as you did that before speaking up

“i think i just fell more in love with you”

you froze

“no, i know i just fell more in love with you”

you lifted your head up to understand what he was talking about

“i just fell more in love with you too” you smiled

he smiled “you don’t understand how perfect you are. i swear i want this forever. you always make me feel at home, you are my home. you’re the reason my heart keeps beating. i couldn’t have asked eywa for a better woman. honestly i didn’t even have to ask, she just sent you to me. which is how i know we’re meant to be”

a tear fell down your eye as he moved the hair from out of your face

you jumped up to put your entire body over him

he let out a short laugh as he happily opened his arms for you to take you in. the two of you made eye contact

the type of eye contact that can make you fall in love all over again

“i love you” he gave you the most cutest face ever

“i love you more” your pupils dilated

that’s when a hard smack land on your ass

“OH HELL NAH”

“we talked about that”

you rolled your eyes

“roll em again and see what happens” he tightened his grip on your hips

“what are you gonna do?” you teased

“give you something that will really make your eyes roll back”

you giggled and placed kisses all over his face

“seriously though, i love you more”

“y/n stop fucking playing with me”

“what did i do?”

“you know what, i love YOU more”

“no”

“yes”

“NO”

“i can do this all night baby”

- and the two of you went back and forth for a while before you eventually gave up realizing neteyam wasn’t gonna let it go

- you let him think he was right even though you knew the truth

- men smh

- you both went to sleep cuddling and kissing all throughout the night

- you couldn’t have asked for a man better than neteyam sully because there simply wasn’t one.

THATS MY MANNNNNNNNNNN

okay so i thought this was a pretty cute and decent place to stop 🥹

in my next life i will be neteyam’s wife. idc what it takes.

these are some of MY headcanons, you don’t have to agree! but i would like to hear some of yours

should i do lo’ak next? 😜

love, liana

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beskarandblasters · 4 months

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New York or Nowhere

Part six: It Was Always New York or Nowhere

Bodega Owner!Joel Miller x F!Reader

New York or Nowhere Masterlist

Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Author’s note: We’ve reached the end for these two 🤍

Chapter summary: Joel breaks some terrible news at your apartment. A few weeks later, you reconnect at Beldro’s.

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, angst, friend breakup, talks of Sarah’s death, dub con (reader has consumed alcohol), oral sex (F receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (sugar, sweetheart), praising, daddy kink, no use of y/n

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics Fic recs: @kelbellsficrecs

It’s been hours since you called Joel and told him the news. You knew he just couldn’t just close up the store in the middle of the afternoon on a Sunday. So you resigned to comb the streets of Brooklyn by yourself, searching for Ellie but to no avail. When you finally get back to your apartment, you slump down on the couch, staring at the ceiling. Dozing off, your dreams are filled with Ellie, where she could be, and how scared she probably is. She’s never left Joel’s store up until coming to your apartment. She’s either lost somewhere or… and you don’t want to think about this but… she could have crossed paths with the wrong person. Before your dream can delve into that further, a knock wakes you up.

Groggily rising from the couch and opening the door, you find Joel. He doesn’t look angry or worried but instead like he’s about to deliver some bad news.

He holds up his hand and speaks first, saying, “Ellie’s fine. She found her way back to the store.”

“Oh, thank God,” you sigh. The guilt of the situation is still eating away at you but at least you can rest knowing she’s safe.

“But there’s something else I wanna talk to you about, sugar.”

“Oh, okay. Do you want to come in?”

“S’Alright. This’ll be quick.”

“Okay…”

“I think we need to slow down, sugar.”

“Slow down?”

“We’ve been movin’ too fast.”

“Oh… Alright.” His words hurt but somewhere deep down inside you, you know he’s right. It’s barely been two weeks since you first walked into his store.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t try again in the future, sugar. I just can’t right now.”

“Right…” you say, looking at the floor, “Let me get you her carrier.”

You turn and walk back into your apartment, blinking back tears. You grab Ellie’s carrier and hand it back to Joel. He takes it in his hand but grabs your chin with the other. Looking into your eyes before kissing you one last time.

“Bye, for now, sweetheart,” he says before disappearing down the hallway.

You close the door and immediately head to your bedroom, collapsing on the bed and trying your hardest not to sob over a man you’ve known for such a short time. But it was probably for the best, right?

The next morning you wake up with puffy eyes and a pounding headache. You replay yesterday’s events in your head, everything from the way Joel woke you up, getting ready for brunch, getting drunk, realizing Ellie was missing, calling Joel, and him letting you down gently in your doorway. You think about the window being open, how long it was left open… who opened it in the first place.

Jessica.

She wouldn’t do that on purpose, would she? But after all the shit she’s pulled lately, you wouldn’t put in past her.

Following your hunch, you pick up your phone, calling her as you get ready for work.

“Hello?” she answers.

“Hey, I just had a random question,” you say.

“...Okay?” she says, already getting annoyed.

“Why’d you open that window yesterday?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really? You don’t remember anything?”

“We got pretty fucked up yesterday,” she says defensively.

“Are you just deflecting?” you press.

“Nope,” she snaps.

“Mhm, I’m sure.”

“Are we done here?”

This is pointless. She’s never going to admit to opening the window on purpose. And you’re pretty sure arguing with her is costing you brain cells.

“You know what? I think we’re done here. You’ve been nothing but shitty to me and I’m tired of being your friend.”

“Are you fucking for real?” she scoffs.

“Yup. I am,” you say, hanging up the phone and flopping down on the bed. At least that’s over with. But you also don’t feel like seeing her at work so you pick up your phone and call out. Today’s a self-care day.

Four weeks later

It's been a few weeks since you last saw Joel at your apartment. You’ve avoided Beldro’s like the plague since then and neither one of you has called each other. You’re not sure when you’re supposed to pick back up with him, if at all. He said he wanted to slow down, not that he was done with you forever. He also never specified if you could see other people or not. You haven’t been anyway but what about him? Has he been fucking other women over the counter?

Probably not, the rational part of you says. But the anxious side of you tries to convince you that yes, he is fucking other women at his store.

Whatever, nothing you can do about it either way.

It’s a regular Wednesday morning. You’re heading to the subway stop by your apartment, about to make your morning commute. After swiping your metro card and passing through the turnstiles, you wait for the train.

Once it arrives you glance through the windows before it slows to a stop, not too crowded. You keep your head low and avoid looking at others like you normally would when you take the subway anyway. But once you sit down and look at what’s across from you, you see him; Joel with Ellie’s carrier. He’s looking directly at you, a soft smile on his face.

“Hey,” he says, putting his hand up.

“Hi,” you respond.

“Going to work?” he asks.

“Mhm. What about you? Where are you off to?”

“The vet. Getting Ellie microchipped.”

“Probably a good idea,” you chuckle.

The conversation falls flat, with both of you avoiding eye contact with each other. But for some reason, now feels like the time to ask him the question you’ve been secretly thinking about this whole time.

Why did he move to New York? He’s clearly not from here.

“Joel? Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“Why did you come here?”

“Like why did I move here?”

“Yeah.”

“Moved here once my daughter, Sarah, passed. She was fourteen.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Joel.”

You had no idea. He never mentioned her.

“S’alright. Happened a long time ago.”

“But why here? Why New York?”

“It was always New York or nowhere, sugar,” he says with a smile.

The train comes to a stop and he rises from the bench,

“Well, this is our stop. See you around, sweetheart,” he says with a wave.

He steps off the train, looking back at you one more time before walking out of the subway station. You think about what he said. It was always New York or nowhere. You have to agree with him.

Two weeks later

You’re at a bar with Charlotte and Nathaniel. The night is coming to an end but before you all decide to go home, you decide you need a little treat. Drunkenly stumbling out of the bar, you start to make the journey to the nearest bodega. Which, of course, has to be Beldro’s. As the green awnings come into view, Charlotte asks, “Are you sure? We can go somewhere else.”

“I’m fine, Char. We’re pretty much there already. I’ll be fine.”

She nods, letting you lead the way to Beldro’s. The bell on the door jingles as the three of you pile inside. Joel glances up from his… iPhone?! When did that happen?!

“Look who upgraded,” you tease.

“Good to see you, sugar,” he says, “And you two as well,” he adds, glancing at Charlotte and Nathaniel.

You stay at the counter as they grab their snacks, eyeing Joel up and down, taking note of how good he looks.

“How have you been? Noticed you’re down one,” he says, referring to Jessica.

“Yeah… We’re not really friends anymore,” you respond.

“Good for you. She seemed mean,” he says.

“She was,” you chuckle, “How have you been?”

Just as you ask, you feel Ellie circling your feet beneath you. You bend down to pick her up, holding her as you talk to Joel.

“I’ve been alright,” he says.

The small talk is… okay. But you really wish he was bending you over that counter again. Charlotte and Nathaniel return with their purchases but Joel doesn’t charge them.

“Someone’s feeling generous tonight,” you joke, setting Ellie back down on the floor.

“You gotta be sometimes,” he says, shooting you a wink.

Charlotte and Nathaniel bid him their thank you’s before leaving, waiting for you outside.

“Bye, Joel,” you say, walking to the door.

“See you around, sugar,” he says.

You take one final look at him before meeting your friends outside.

“You okay?” Charlotte asks.

“You know what? I am,” you say.

Just as the three of you start to walk away, you hear the door open followed by Joel’s voice saying, “Wait up!”

You turn around to find him hastily locking the door and heading over to you.

“Can I talk to you?” he says.

“You guys can go. You don’t have to wait for me,” you tell your friends.

“You sure?” Nathaniel asks.

“She’s sure,” Charlotte says smirking at you before waving goodbye and grabbing Nathaniel’s arm, leading him down the street.

“I’ve been thinking about us a lot, sugar,” he says, grabbing your hand.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah and… I’d like to try again… if you’ll still have me,” he says nervously.

You close the gap between you two and kiss him, something you’ve missed doing for weeks on end now. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. The kiss grows needier, more passionate by the second, evidence of how much you two missed each other.

“Come with me,” he says, abruptly pulling away and grabbing your hand. He leads you a couple of feet over to the cellar doors on the sidewalk. He unlocks them and opens them, gesturing for you to walk down the steps.

“You’re taking me to your basement? Never beating the creep allegations, are you?” you tease.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Get in there,” he says, rolling his eyes in faux annoyance.

You head down the basement steps, with Joel following behind you. He closes the doors and reaches for the light switch. The light flickers a few times before turning but it doesn’t do much to provide actual light. His hands are immediately on your body, palming your thighs and groping you over your dress. You let out a small gasp as his hand moves to your underwear, pulling the fabric back and snapping it against your skin.

“Get these off, sugar,” he says, sliding your underwear down your legs. He bends down and picks them up, stuffing them into his pocket. His hands immediately grab your hips and spin you around so you’re facing the stairs.

“Bend over for me,” he softly commands.

You do as you’re told, bending over and placing your hands on one of the steps. You feel him kneel behind you, pulling up your dress and hooking his hands around your thighs. He kisses the back of your thigh before bringing his face to your cunt, inhaling deeply and taking in your scent before dragging his tongue along your entrance. Your knees buckle underneath you as he eats you out, tongue swirling expertly around your clit. Your body shivers as the muscles in your core tense up in anticipation of release. You cum with his face taut against your cunt, his basement filled with the sounds of your mangled moans and whimpers.

“Good girl,” he says, kissing the back of your thigh again, “Such a good girl for daddy.”

He rises from the floor, giving your ass a squeeze with one hand while the other pulls his cock out of his pants. He rubs the head of his cock, against your sensitive cunt, teasing you as he talks to you.

“Stay just like this. You’re doing such a good job for daddy,” he purrs, pulling his cock away to gather your release on his hand. He spreads it on his cock before hooking his hands on your hips. He pushes into you slowly, cursing under his breath as he fully sheaths him inside you.

“Fuck, sugar. I missed this,” he says, drawing his hips back slowly and slamming into you.

A whimper escapes your lips, growing louder and incessant as he fucks you harder, reaching forward and grabbing you by the throat. He pulls you upright against him, never dropping the pace of his thrusts.

“That’s right. Take daddy’s cock like a good girl,” he says.

You’re unable to form a complete sentence, letting out nothing but a string of cries, whimpers, and moans. Your walls tense up in preparation for your orgasm. Tears spring in the corners of your eyes, your thoughts filled with nothing but Joel and his cock pounding into you.

“Gonna cum for me, sugar? Let me feel it,” he says, his grip around your throat tightening. You cum for a second time, feeling your release spill out of you, soaking his cock and running down your thighs.

“Fuck,” he curses, coming inside you with the head of his cock buried deep inside you. The pace of his thrusts grows sloppier as he fucks you through your release and his. But once he feels himself go soft, he pulls out of you and pulls you close against him, kissing the nape of your neck.

“I missed this. I missed you,” he admits.

“I missed you, too. So much for taking things slow,” you chuckle.

“Fuck going slow. It’s for the birds,” he says, absentmindedly kissing your neck up to your ear.

“So you want to try again?” you ask.

“Was that clear enough?” he laughs.

“Shut up, old man,” you laugh, “When did you get an iPhone by the way?”

“Last week. Thought of you when I got it. Figured you’d give me shit for it.”

“Give you shit for it?? I’m overjoyed I can actually text you now,” you tease.

“Text me all you want,” he says, kissing your neck one last time before letting you go, “Let’s get out of here, though.”

“Where to?”

“Your place, if you’ll still have me. I’ll bring Ellie.”

“You know I could never say no to her, Joel,” you say, walking up the steps back to the sidewalk. Joel locks the door and lets you back inside the store, scooping Ellie into her carrier before locking up again.

You back to your apartment hand in hand, feeling like all is right for once– down a shitty friend and back with your man (and his cat) by your side.

@pedrostories

#new york or nowhere #bodega joel #bodega owner!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller au #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller pedro pascal

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shinobus-bonnet · 2 years

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tell my brother she ours

Pairings: Rengoku x black!femreader x Tengen

Warnings: smut. (cant believe I am doing this) 2 big men tearing them walls up. you're basically they sugar baby become girlfie (just read I promise). CRINGE OH MA GOD.

DARK CONTENT CONSUMERS/AUTHORS DNI

this is my first time so please. spare me. it is very obvious that I could not use certain words or phrases because I kept cringing so.

————————————————————————

you never really asked for much in life. You had a decent job at a small bakery and two rich men spoiling the fuck out of you.

It was random. You met one in the grocery store and the other at your job. It came naturally, just the casual flirting and occasional dates with each other which led them to start giving you money even though you didn't ask.

Rent is paid for, they would send groceries to your house and send designer clothes and bags. Anything you asked for you got it.

and you are just sweet as candy to them. Rejecting some of the things they wanted to give to you even though they sent it to your house anyways

but what you didn't know was, that the two men were co-owners of the country's wealthiest company, best friends even

and they didn't know that they were talking to the same woman until the two were talking about their love life and how they liked this girl and always sending her gifts and then they had the bright idea of showing each other on the count of three.

Once they flipped the phones around, it got awkwardly silent.

"no fucking way." Tengen exclamined

they couldn't be too mad at her because they weren’t really boyfriend and girlfriend and also, she didn't know she was talking to best friends.

"so what do we do now?" rengoku asked

You were on the way home from closing up the bakery. As you got in your car you received a phone call from kyojuro.

"hello?" you spoke

"Hi my love, how was your day at work today?" he asked

The two of them melted as they heard your sweet voice come through the phone as you talked about your day.

"why dont you meet me at my house sunshine? I can make dinner and we chill for a moment, that sounds ok?" He asked

You chirped up a sure and asked for him to send the address.

The two men looked at each other and left out silently.

You pulled up to this big ass house and seen two cars parked out front and thought that they were both of his. Knocking on the door he immediately invited you in and led you the couch.

You were definitely not expecting to see tengen sitting spread out on the couch with a glass of whiskey sending you a little wave

you grew nervous at the sight of the two fine men you've been talking to for the past 9 months or so sitting there smugly as they watched you sit nervously on the couch

"relax, you're not in trouble sweetheart" Tengen said leaning over to put his glass down.

"so...yall are friends??" you asked trying to wrap your mind around everything

"yes, and business partners."

"makes a lot of sense now, i'm sorr-" you began

"no need for apologies my love. To not waste anymore time we decided to make this a partnership."

"so basically, yall both are my boyfriends now, is this what youre saying to me right now?" you questioned

"yes thats exactly what we’re saying, if you dont want to do that no worries. We just want you to be comfortable." Tengen chimed in

The tree of you sat in silence while you thought about it.

"could it really be that bad? two men loving on you, giving you the world if you wanted it. What could go wrong?" you asked your self

"what do you say sweetheart?"

You simply nodded your head as you played with your fingers. Walking over to your figure tengen lifted your chin up to meet his eyes

"need to hear you say it verbally baby"

"y-yeah, im down"

Tengen crouched down to place a soft kiss on your lips while rengoku attacked you neck with hickies and bites

You let out the softest whimpers and moans. It was all too much for you in the moment. It was getting hard to kiss uzui back seeing that Kyojuro sucked on your neck so sweetly and uzui had his hands cupping your pretty face as he was kissing you.

Sending you off to the bed room the two men took another shot of whiskey and loosened their ties and shirts

"so are we playing good cop bad cop here or no?" Tengen asked

Kyojuro looked at him with a stale face as he held his glass

"What! i'm just trying to get a feel on how we're gonna do this" he exclaimed while rolling his eyes

walking to the bedroom Kyojuro gave a small chuckle to his best friend.

you were nervous. as fuck. if you would've known you were getting fucked you would have wore something more...sexually appealing but you already here now.

your thighs kept rubbing together in anticipation from what's about to go down in this bedroom making yourself even more flustered and aroused.

hearing the door open you popped up seeing the two men come in with gentle smiles

"are you sure you want to do this my love?" Kyo asked sweetly

"yeah, I'm sure" you responded.

Tengen slipped behind you and placed you in his lap while kyojuro sat in front of you with your legs open

Kyojuro began to kiss you again from your jaw, neck, chest as his fingers pulled your underwear to the side and started to rub up and down your folds.

You held in your whimpers and moans to save you from the embarrassment

"you gotta speak up baby" uzi teased

shaking your head no he instructed kyojuro to stop fingering you

whining you threw your head back and guided kyojuros fingers back to where they were

"whats wrong tengen?" he asked confusedly

"our pretty girl isnt being so nice to us. Its almost like... we're not making her feel good"

smacking his lips he brung his hand to your face and asked "are we making you feel good sweetheart?" and then nodding your head for you

"see! she said yes now can I resume what I was doing now?" he asked

"No not until I hear some words come out that pretty mouth" tengen replied

the two of you groaned in response to uzuis antics

"oh now you wanna respond when you dont get what you want" he sneered "such a spoiled girl you are"

"please, just let me touch her uzui" rengoku pleaded

Ren had your best interest in heart. He wanted to make you feel good and see you come undone. but his best friend had different plans.

"cmon sweetheart be good for me ok?" uzui said sweetly in your ear

you softly gave an ok to him and he finally let kyojuro go back to what he was doing.

It was a sight for sore eyes seeing you sandwiched between the two big beefy men , moaning and giving them praises for making you feel so good.

Taking off his shirt kyojuro slotted him self between your legs and began to place little kisses and licks on the inside of your thighs and soon landing on your clit giving little kisses and soon sucking on it making you squrim and wrapping your legs around his back.

Tengen placed little bites down your ear to your neck while he toyed with your nipples

Between him talking so sweet in your ear and kyojuro eating you out like a mad man you were nearing your release.

"oh youre so pretty when you cum my love, makes me want to give you another one" rengoku said coming up to place a kiss on your temple

and indeed he does. plowing into you while saying the filthiest but sweetest things in you ear while your clawing at his back moaning his name so sweetly over and over asking for more.

meanwhile, uzui sat in the chair across the room hard as brick seeing you ger ravished by his bestfriend

he started to slowly undress himself and palm himself in his pants at the sight of the two of you. he grew harder in anticpation for his turn with you

He thought Kyojuro was too sweet. it made his teeth rot.

once you came for a second time kyojuro gave you some water to help your heavy breathing,

uzui got on the bed and sat you on top of him

"how are you feeling pretty girl?" he asked sweetly

"good, im doing ok" you answered back in between breaths

responding with a smile he gave you a deep kiss and slid you onto him

your little whines fueled him knowing he was slightly bigger than Kyojuro he smiled menacingly. He instructed you to bounce slowly but it you were having trouble taking him all at once.

"I need help" you moaned out

seeing your big doe eyes basically pleading for his help he gave you a kiss on your forehead and obliged.

he lifted your hips and started to thrust into you while kissing your neck and talking in your ear.

as he made you a member of the cream team for the 3rd time that night he laid you onto your chest rubbing your back trying to help steady your breathing

Kyojuro ran you a bath as you laid on your boyfriends chest.

"you alright angel? I know this could've been a lot for your first time with us" uzui asked sweetly

"yeah, just sleepy thats all." you responded with closed eyes and a very soft voice

He carried you bridal style to the bathroom where kyojuro was already there waiting for you two.

Placing you in the tub every so gently the two climbed in behind you and laid you on thier bodies

"thank you. for everything." you said softly

the bubbles were floating onto your body the water was warm and your two boyfriends were warmer and you fell asleep in their arms.

you could get used to this.

#demon slayer x black reader #demon slayer x black!reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x black!reader #kny x black reader #rengoku x reader #kyojuro rengoku x black reader #rengoku smut #uzui tengen x black reader #tengen smut #uzui tengen x reader #demon slayer smut #hot hot hot!

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mariacallous · 1 year

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The word “processed” has become something of a slur.

Say “processed food” and most of us picture unhealthy, cheap junk. Fresh food straight from the garden or the field is good. Once we’ve put it through a processing plant or a laboratory, we’ve removed its halo qualities and added a bunch of bad ones. That means meat substitutes are no better than junk food.

But this perspective is short-sighted. We’re not going to feed billions a nutritious diet sustainably without food processing. The growing backlash against processing is one that neither people nor the planet can afford.

The benefits of processed food

Processed food is more than Coca-Cola, Dairy Milk chocolate, and ready meals. Most plant and animal products go through some form of processing to convert them into something that we can—and want to—eat. We mill grain into flour to make bread. We butcher and debone animals to get meat. We pasteurize milk.

Processed foods have brought us countless benefits, many of which we quickly forget. Iodized salt is just one example; iodine deficiencies used to be common across the world, leading to increased risks of stillbirths and miscarriages, significant reductions in IQ, and reduced cognitive development. Most of the world now consumes salt with iodine added, and many countries have eliminated this deficiency. By adding nutrients to food, we’ve been able to address a number of other micronutrient deficiencies.

We’ve been able to preserve food and increase its shelf life, reducing food waste. We’ve reduced the spread of food-borne diseases. Those with food allergies and intolerances can now eat a balanced diet. We don’t need to spend the day preparing food—this has been particularly important for the educational and career development of women. Last but not least: taste. Our shelves are now lined with great-tasting foods.

Of course, when people talk about “processed” food they’re often talking about ultra-processed food (UPF). These snacks and prepared meals are designed to have a longer shelf life and be more convenient and palatable. Corporations work hard to find the “Goldilocks” flavor profile we can’t resist by adding sugar and fat to make food as tasty as possible. Many describe these finely tuned combinations as addictive.

It’s true that increased consumption of ultra-processed food has been linked to poor health outcomes. It has been associated with lower consumption of essential nutrients, such as vitamins C, D, and B12. The more of these foods we eat, the more likely we are to be overweight or obese. This puts us at higher risk of health conditions like cardiovascular disease, diabetes, and cancer. Ultra-processed foods are easy to overconsume.

The problem with most UPFs is that they are higher in calories, sugar, and fat. And they’re lower in protein and fiber, the nutrients that keep us full.

But this isn’t inherent to food processing itself. What matters is what corporations add to our food. They can create healthier foods if they want to—or if we demand it.

The growing backlash against meat substitutes

One area where I see the biggest backlash against processing is with meat substitutes.

These products try to emulate the experience of meat and include plant proteins such as soy-based sausages; Impossible and Beyond Meat burgers; proteins made from fermentation, such as Quorn, and lab-grown meat.

Passionate meat eaters and vegans don’t always see eye to eye, but they do often agree that natural is best. Vegans push back against meat substitutes because they’d rather people go straight to natural plant foods like peas, beans, and lentils. Meat eaters push back on these products for their artificiality, calling them “Frankenfood.”

Headlines critical of these foods go something like this: “People have told you that meat substitutes are super healthy, but they’re lying to you.”

So are meat substitutes better for your health or are they part of an elaborate con?

Well, “healthy” compared to what?

Are they better than meat equivalents? Are you better off going for an Impossible or Beyond Meat burger than a beefburger? Or a soy-based sausage over a pork one? Possibly.

I crunched the numbers on the nutritional profile of meat substitute products and compared them to meat. (You can find a graph of this comparison here.) To their credit, meat substitutes tend to be lower in calories and saturated fat and higher in fiber. To their detriment, some are lower in protein, and importantly, often contain lower-quality protein, meaning they contain less of the essential amino acids that we need.

When it comes to sodium, it’s a bit of a mixed bag. Substitute burgers tend to be comparable to beef. Substitute sausages look bad, but they contain less salt than their pork equivalents.

Many substitute products are now fortified with Vitamin B12, iron, and calcium. The Impossible burger actually has more Vitamin B12 and iron than beef. Many plant-based milks are fortified too. (I compared the nutrition of dairy and plant-based milks here.)

On balance, they’re probably a bit better for our health than their meat equivalents.

Are they better than whole, plant-based foods? Less likely, but possible, depending on the nutrients you’re trying to optimize for. They are higher in protein and have micronutrients added that plants don’t have much of, such as Vitamin B12. But they are also higher in saturated fat and salt.

However, this showdown between natural plant foods and meat substitutes is kind of beside the point. People who want a whole, plant-based diet aren’t the target for these products. If people want to switch to plant proteins such as peas and lentils, great. But this group is a minority. What meat substitutes offer is an easy swap for people who want “meat-like” meals. Many want an experience similar to meat: Substitutes try to give them this without killing animals—and without the high environmental cost of farming meat.

To have a chance of meeting our global climate targets, ending deforestation, and protecting the world’s wildlife, we need to eat much less meat. Both plant foods and meat substitutes have a much lower carbon footprint, use much less land, and cause less water pollution than meat. The environmental toll can be 10 to 100 times lower than that of beef or lamb.

Meat substitutes are our best shot at feeding the world without destroying it. The backlash to these products is counterproductive. And the blanket dismissal of such foods as “ultra-processed” isn’t helping. Most are defined as ultra-processed based on the methods used to produce them. But if we list the reasons UPFs are bad for our health, meat substitutes have almost none of those qualities. As shown above, they are generally not high in calories—most are lower than meat. They have less saturated fat, almost no added sugars, and are higher in fiber.

What they do have are additives. Impossible Foods adds them to give its burgers a juicy, meat-like texture. Many companies add binding agents and preservatives to extend their products’ shelf lives. People get freaked out by lists of ingredients they don’t recognize. But the notion that how pronounceable something is can determine whether we should eat it is not scientifically sound. You can probably pronounce “lead” and “mercury,” but I don’t recommend seasoning your dinner with them.

This is still an area that needs more research, but I’ve seen little good evidence that additives or sweeteners consumed within regulatory guidelines have negative health impacts.

We shouldn’t be eating them all the time, but as part of a diverse diet, there is little to suggest meat substitutes are bad for our health. In fact, some can be a nutritional plus.

Food processing could alleviate malnutrition for billions

Meat substitutes are mostly targeted at wealthy consumers. But the implications of a backlash to processed food are just as harmful for people with less money—if not more so.

More food processing, not less, could improve health and nutrition in developing countries.

Billions of people in the world suffer from “hidden hunger”—they don’t get enough of the micronutrients that are necessary for good health. The preferred way to address this would be for them to eat a more diverse diet.

That’s a nice pipe dream, but it’s decades away. These billions can’t afford a healthy, balanced diet even if they spend all of their income on food. The goal is to make sure their incomes rise, but this will take time.

What are we going to do in the meantime? Accept that billions are left malnourished and billions of children will never reach their potential?

We could solve this problem quickly and cheaply with more food processing. Simply add micronutrients to staple foods. Micronutrient fortification—the addition of key vitamins and minerals to foods such as flour, salt, bread, and cereals—is incredibly cost-effective. It can cost mere cents or a few dollars per person per year. To move from a diet that meets an individual’s energy needs—eating cheap staples that are high in calories—to a nutritionally complete or healthy diet will cost someone at least a few dollars per day. Micronutrient fortification would cost just a few dollars per person per year.

This is also true of meat and dairy products. In richer countries, we consume a lot of meat, and most people could easily cut back. Poorer countries eat very little meat, if any. Without nutritious alternatives, eating more animal products might actually be good for health. The problem is that meat is expensive—economically as well as environmentally. It’s hard to get cheap meat without sacrificing welfare and environmental standards. So we face a dilemma: Increasing meat consumption for those with lower incomes would improve nutrition but result in a larger environmental footprint.

But if meat substitutes become cheaper, we have the opportunity to make low-cost, high-quality protein available for everyone. People will be able to improve their nutrition long before they can afford to buy more meat. What’s even more promising is that consumers in low- and middle-income countries seem to be more accepting of meat alternatives. We don’t have a lot of data on these markets, but large surveys across China, India, and the US suggest that Chinese and Indian consumers would be much more likely to buy plant-based substitutes and lab-grown meat than Americans.

I’m all for a predominantly whole-food diet. But used in the right way and in moderation, processed foods could be a big boon for global nutrition. Stigma against them hinders such efforts, so rather than shunning food processing, we should embrace it in the appropriate contexts.

It’s not the process; it’s what we add that matters

I’m not here to defend ultra-processed foods or big food corporations. They’ve hijacked our food system in many ways and have created a plethora of health problems. But we need to stop throwing all processed foods into one group.

The problem is not the process itself; it’s what we add and how we do it. We can use processing to enhance nutrition or hinder it. We can embrace it where it adds value and boycott it where it doesn’t.

The backlash against food processing is a luxury that the world can’t afford to embrace. It’s not good for people or the planet. Nutritionally sound processed foods are one of many tools that will help nourish billions without destroying the environment.

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wri0thesley · 3 years

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A Well Rounded Education (4): Equality Statement (Fem!Reader x Naoya Zenin, 7.5k)

series synopsis: you are a teacher’s aid to teacher Gojo Satoru, training to be able to take over your own class next year by shadowing and helping him out. gojo, unfortunately, does not make things easy for anybody.

chapter synopsis: you make the mistake of crossing naoya zenin at a sports festival and are forced to apologise. but as you well know by now, nothing ever seems to go to plan where any of your student’s fathers are concerned.

NSFW. MINORS DNI. AFAB reader, fem pronouns. misogyny, weird power dynamics, hate-sex, piv sex, blowjobs. naoya.

(a well rounded education m.list and navigation) ♡ (jujutsu kaisen masterlist)

The Saturday morning that your first ever undokai is scheduled for dawns bright and early, and you can’t help the little thrill that goes through you at the golden fingers of dawn lighting up your room. There’d been talk of the weekend bringing rain, and things needing to be rescheduled – but it’s perfect weather, as you put on a comfortable tank top and shorts instead of your neat pencil skirt and suit jacket combination.

This will be your first event of the kind, and you’re excited about it. The kids in the class have been practising all of their cheers and routines and the like constantly, whilst the ones involved in the competitive sports have been cheering one another on and snatching time when they can to race against one another in preparation. It’s been nice to see all of the camaraderie between them – even some of the quieter ones have seemed to come a little bit out of their shell, with so much team spirit in the air.

Well. Most of them have. You’ve noticed Junpei still hanging back, face sad, uncomfortable when other boys crowd him and tug him off to who knows where – probably to get him involved in their own practises or rehearsals.

It’s been long and hard preparing for it, but even Gojo has been focused on something for once.

“There’s just something about events like this!” Gojo chirped to you, once, as he’d held up a megaphone he did not really need and called his class back into formation in front of him. “You know! The joy of youth! I want them to have the best time possible! They deserve it.”

Seeing Gojo’s mischievous eyes sparkle with determination instead of humour had made you smile at him, and you’d felt a strange pull in your chest when he’d smiled back, needing to pull your gaze away to ask Yuuji to stop poking Megumi in the back to get him to look at a weird caterpillar he’d found on the ground.

As a junior high undokai, things are a little more competitive than they might be if this were an elementary school or even a middle school event, but there’s still a big emphasis on the teamwork and the cheering on portion of the day. You’ve watched and applauded what feels like a hundred practises for the cheering section, confiscating whistles when they’re sneakily blown whilst you’re trying to teach a mathematics lesson.

Still, you’re not surprised to see that Gojo’s class have been corralled into his classroom whilst your vivacious teacher and mentor gives them a rallying encouragement that seems to contain a lot of bigging up the fact that they are, in fact, his class.

“I thought the pep talk was for them,” you say, as heads turn to you when you walk into the room. It’s strange to see all of the faces dressed in their gym uniforms instead of their school uniforms – and it’s even stranger to be wearing an approximation of it yourself.

“You look nice!” Yuji pipes up, and you smile at him.

“It is for them,” Gojo brings a hand to his sunglasses to push them down a little, giving you a charming smile and the full force of the galaxies swirling in his eyes. “I’m just reminding them that as Satoru Gojo’s class, of course they’re going to do well! We’re going to be the strongest, and win!” He looks at all of them – bright shining faces turned to him, all lit up with the excitement of competition. There’s something in him that you rarely see right now – something encouraging and bright and compassionate. He genuinely seems to want them to do well. “I believe in all of you!”

The warmth spreading through your chest at Gojo’s words is a new experience. You’re far more used to exasperation and frustration where he’s concerned.

But now, you can’t help the infectious smiles of the children and the determination in their face to do well enough for everyone to be proud of. Maybe Gojo isn’t so bad after all, you think, as he bids the children in the class farewell and tells them to go and join everyone else outside in preparation for the day’s events.

“What d’you think?” He asks you, as Junpei leaves the room, still dragging his feet a little. You can’t blame him. He’s involved in the cheering section, as so many of the less athletic kids are, but the undokai is not optional and you think that Junpei is the kind of boy who hates being looked at. “Are we gonna win?”

“I don’t think that’s quite the point of the exercise,” you say, eventually. “We’re supposed to be fostering team spirit and co-operation--”

“Yeah,” Gojo wrinkles his nose and grins. “But we’re still gonna win, right?”

You sigh.

“With Yuji and Maki? Probably. But that’s not the point!”

Gojo stands up and stretches his arms out above him. He’s in a shirt that clings tight to a surprisingly muscled abdomen, and dark grey sweatpants. He’s never been the ‘formal wear’ kind of teacher, but it’s still jarring to see him dressed so casually – and even more jarring to realise that he’s handsome, despite the fact you’ve spent most of the last few months rolling your eyes and sighing and cursing the world that you’ve ended up having to endure Satoru Gojo so much.

“I know, I know – but it’s nice to think about, right?” His grin is infectious. “Did you have time to have breakfast this morning? I know it’s an earlier start than usual, I’ve got a spare blueberry muffin in my bag – hope it didn’t get crushed too badly by my stretches--”

“I’m fine,” you tell him, already dreading the idea of him pressing a crumbled muffin into your hand. “I had a healthy, nutritious breakfast.”

“So did I!” He says, hotly. “The blueberry muffin had fruit in it, croissants are glazed with egg so that’s protein, and I had a slice of honey on toast too just because I felt like I’d have to keep my energy up today--”

You are constantly impressed by how he manages to consume all of this sugar without going into overdrive – then again, maybe that does explain a lot about him.

“I don’t really know what I’m supposed to be doing today,” you admit to him. “I mean, I know I’m here to cheer on the kids and stuff, but I don’t know what my role’s supposed to be--”

“Oh!” He comes around and begins to walk out of the classroom, beckoning you to follow him. “Didn’t I tell you? They told me ages ago--” He did not tell you. You don’t know why you find this a surprise. “You’re gonna be in charge of the refreshments table for the first half of the morning – Yuta, you know, the other teacher’s aid, he’ll relieve you for the second half so you can cheer us on and help me a bit. Not that I’ll need it! It’s not a hard job, just be polite to anyone who needs to use it, most of ‘em bring their own lunches and snacks but we find that it’s always good to have a table with some extras – especially when it’s so hot outside!”

“You didn’t,” you say, but you follow him anyway. You have learnt by now that the most you’ll get from Gojo is a shrug and an airy ‘sorry’. And you suppose, in the grand scheme of things, this isn’t so bad. It’s not like you needed to have time to stop and prepare yourself to give people a polite smile and ask them if they’d like you to pour them a glass of water.

The two of you spill out into the grounds of the school, which is already full of excited students and proud parents. You recognise a few of them – your face heats up as you see Nanami forcibly pressing a bottle of sunscreen into Yuji’s hands, and as the two of you walk past Geto who is tying back Mimiko and Nanako’s hair, ensuring the team hats that the students are all wearing sit neatly on their heads.

There’s a man stood with Maki and Mai who you assume is their father; a blond with a sneering face and a presence that makes you feel like you shouldn’t even be looking at him. Maki has her arms crossed, her chin jutting forward – the two of them are clearly involved in some kind of argument. Even as you watch, some other men are walking towards him with their heads bowed, like he’s something special.

You vaguely recall that you’ve heard some tell about the Zenins being a very rich, very old, very respected family. Judging from the way he carries himself and the way people keep looking at him, you think that must be it.

“Is that Maki and Mai’s dad?” You ask, curiously, as you’re pushed past him towards a collection of tables beneath a bright yellow awning. Gojo makes a noise that sounds like a sigh.

“Yep,” he says, sounding short. There’s some kind of history there, you think. “That’s Naoya Zenin. Better for you to avoid him, if you can – he’s not the kind of guy you want to cross, y’know?”

“But Maki’s--”

“Absolutely nothing like him,” Gojo deposits you in front of a table heaped with water jugs, ice cubes and plastic cups. “Really.”

You wrinkle your nose as you look around. At least everyone else seems happy – excited, buzzing with energy and the promise of an exciting day ahead. You can’t help but worry about Maki’s expression, though. She had looked like her and her father were having an argument that had been going on for months--

Gojo waves at you as he jogs across the field, moving surprisingly quickly for a man who ate nothing but sugar for his breakfast. You watch him go, unable to stop a smile forming on your face as he pauses by Maki and Mai. He slaps a hand onto Maki’s shoulder and says something with a bright grin that she seems to respond to with a smile, turning to follow him. Her father’s eyes narrow, as he spits something that even you can work out is venomous at the retreating backs of one of his daughters. He sighs as he says something else to Mai, a smile almost tugging at the corners of his mouth as his attention shifts back to her.

It’s clear who the golden child is there, then.

You try and shake your thoughts away from Naoya Zenin and his two girls and concentrate on the place that you’ve been given, reminding yourself that even if it doesn’t seem like a big role, you all have to work hard to make sure that today is a success. Your students have been practising and getting excited for this event for weeks, and you want all of the parents to be as proud of their students as you are.

You have a good view from the refreshments table of everything that’s going on. You watch a few of the races, a few cheering displays from the other classes to the beat of the drums – and when kids run up to you, sweaty and panting, you hand them a plastic cup full of cool water and they thank you as if you harvested it from a spring yourself instead of merely pouring it out.

Some parents ask you politely who you are, and you tell them with a smile and a bright look, hoping that you being friendly and polite will get back to other people. A few of them exchange looks when they hear that you’re attached to Gojo’s class; the man has a reputation that follows him everywhere. You give out oranges and other pieces of fruit to some of the students who need an extra sugar boost, or the ones who have a bandage wrapped around their knee or grazes from falls that have recently been cleaned. Shoko is busy today, and you often see her direct these injured children to you as a rest stop, and so their parents can find them easily.

You pause for a moment as the names are called for a relay race, and you hear Maki and Mai being summoned. This is the first race that they’re taking part in – if their team wins this one, they’ll qualify for the final this afternoon. You can see Gojo lifting his arms and hollering and hear his loud, excited voice even with all of the other people crowding into the school grounds to watch, and despite yourself you feel a smile spread over your face.

You’re still smiling when you hear a scoff.

You turn around to see what the fuss is – only to see Naoya Zenin, holding a plastic cup of water as if it’s offended him mortally. Seeing you looking at him, his lip curls.

“Is this tap water?” He asks you. He has a curious accent; slow, drawling, and clearly much superior to your own. It’s not an accent that Maki and Mai have inherited – and as he raises one eyebrow, the sun catching the rings in his ears, you find yourself glad of it. “Well?”

“I think so,” you say. You are on edge. He peers into it, and sighs.

“Don’t you have anything better? Cell-gen or Tennensui or even I LOHAS, at least?” He speaks to you slowly, like you’re a child, or as if he’s not sure whether a peasant like you would even know the names of any bottled water brands. You can’t stand being talked down to, and you curl your hand into a fist as you say, trying to keep yourself polite;

“I’m sorry, Sir. There’s just this.”

“You’d think with the money pumped in-- fine.” He sighs, taking a sip of the water, his face scrunching in displeasure at – you don’t know. The disgusting taste of tap water, you suppose. You try not to look at the bob of his throat as he swallows. Everything about this man seems to be unpleasant except the way he looks.

You take your own cup of water, just to quell some of the dryness that has made itself known in your throat at interacting with him.

The cheering gets a little quieter, and you turn to see what’s happened. As it turns out, all that’s actually happened is Gojo has stopped putting forth his own shouts to the fray, his eyes focussed on you and Naoya, a look that you think is almost sympathy spread across his face. You see that the race is about to begin, and you don’t look at Naoya as you say;

“You’re Maki and Mai’s father, aren’t you? Their first race is about to start. Maki’s been training really hard, I think she’ll pip it for us—”

A dark presence at your shoulder, and a sneering, uppity drawl.

“I gather you’re the teaching aid I’ve been hearing so much about from everyone.” he says. It does not sound like a compliment. “Maki has really found you . . . encouraging.” He says it like it’s a dirty word.

You force yourself to remain cheerful, and not ask him what the fuck his problem is.

“Maki’s really talented,” you say. “Mai’s fast, too – they’re both really good representatives for the class--”

Naoya snorts.

“They should be on the sidelines,” he says, coolly. “Supporting the men. Not running. Not getting all sweaty and hot and messing up their hair and their pretty faces.” He shakes his head. “It’s unwomanly, and if Maki listened to a word I’d said, she wouldn’t be doing it.”

“Mai is doing it too,” you point out, hating yourself for getting involved in this. But you just can’t let him stand there and be such an asshole, spewing his narrow-minded ideas when there are impressionable girls around.

“Mai’s already agreed that if they win this race, she’ll ask one of the boys to switch in for her. I’ve sorted it with the principal. It’s not ladylike for her to do any more than she has to. She’s not going to get a husband in good standing based on her athletic prowess--”

Oh, this is too far. You’re seething, though you’re trying to keep your respectable face on. You’re at work, you’re at work, you’re at work--

“Perhaps there are some other things they consider more important than finding a husband, at the age of twelve?”

Naoya’s laugh is nasty, mocking – and you hate that there’s something in it that sends a curl of heat right through you, blooming between your thighs.

“The younger a girl learns her place,” he says, his voice very slow. “The better it is and easier it is for a man to be assured she’ll do her duties. I don’t see a ring on your finger, Miss – I’d hate for them to end up working some dead-end little job just because they don’t have anyone to cook and clean for--”

Nope.

You can’t take it any longer.

You turn and you throw the cup of ‘shitty tap water’ in your hand right over Naoya Zenin’s stupid, smug, asshole face.

Gojo, for what you think must be one of the first time in his life, looks uncomfortable.

“I didn’t know you were going to throw water on him,” he tries to say, weakly. “Look, we all hate him, but . . . ugh. This is so frustrating! I hate all of this bureaucracy bullshit--”

It turns out that Naoya Zenin’s family – and Naoya Zenin himself – donate rather a lot of money to the school for such functions as the one you’re all currently attending. It turns out that nobody wants to piss off the bank-roll that’s keeping their gym maintained, their events fancy and expensive, the library well-stocked – and you get that! You really do! You know that school budgets are overstretched already, and that donors like the Zenin family are something to be gently courted and kept around for as long as humanly possible.

You just wish that the big donor for this school was anybody else.

“I didn’t know all of this,” you say, reasonably. “I know I shouldn’t have thrown a drink over him, but Mr. Gojo--”

“How many times? You can call me Satoru.”

“If you’d heard the way he was talking--”

“Oh, believe me,” Gojo’s full lips press into a thin line. “I know exactly what Naoya Zenin’s modus operandi is. Let me guess: he was all on at you about how Maki’s not a proper young lady, how the boys should be doing the hard work, how he’s trying to make sure his daughters get a proper start and a rich husband – ugh.” Gojo tugs at his shirt, clearly frustrated. “I’ve had it way too much.”

“Yeah,” you say. You find yourself sighing too.

“The Vice Principal’s in his back pocket,” Gojo says, taking a seat on top of the desk that you’re currently sat behind, cooling off some of your anger – Principal Masamichi had sent you inside to calm you down, and Naoya himself had been escorted into the building by Vice Principal Gakuganji to dry off, all the while saying placating things to calm down the school’s meal ticket. “They want you to apologise to him.”

“I suppose I should,” you say miserably. “But it’s gonna feel like swallowing gravel.”

“I certainly don’t blame you,” Gojo says, with a smile, trying to cheer you up. “Hell, I know some of the other staff members have been dying to do it--”

“Ugh,” you bury your face in your hands. “This is a horrible impression in front of the whole school.”

He pats you gently on the shoulder.

“Hey,” he says, “when this is all over, I’ll take you out for ice cream. I know the best places in the city, and they all know me too!”

You summon a smile for him. He’s not so bad, really – sure, he’s chaotic and thinks too highly of himself for his own good, but . . . at least he’s nothing like Naoya. You stand up and pull down your shorts, wriggling your tank top down to cover you as much as you possibly can. You feel a bit exposed, not in heels and stockings and a blouse.

“I should get this over with, then.”

Gojo has too much to do back on the field to escort you to Naoya himself, so he tells you that Naoya’s in the Vice Principal’s office and gives you another friendly squeeze on the shoulder.

“Good luck,” he tells you. “Remember: ice cream at the end of this!”

“Ice cream at the end of this,” you repeat, as you watch him jog out of the corridor. You’re almost tempted to tell him off for running in the halls – Gojo moves so fast that sometimes you lose track of him entirely – but you push back the urge. Gojo is being decent today. You’re thankful to him for sitting with you and helping you calm – and also, evidently, for being one of the things that keeps Maki’s fighting spirit inflamed.

You stand there for a moment, in front of the door to the office, balling up your courage tight and hot in your stomach. You do not want to have to apologise to Naoya, but you know it’s for the best. The sooner you can put this sorry incident behind you and try and avoid Naoya at every single function from herein, the better – so you tap hard on the door and wait until you hear his slow, drawling voice.

“You can come in.”

At first, you’re surprised to see that he’s alone in there – sitting in front of the desk in a comfortable chair, clearly at ease with everything. His arms are sprawled over the back of it, his legs wide apart. You chastise yourself for thinking it immediately – of course the vice principal is busy right now, of course he trusts someone as well-known to the school as Naoya to be alone in his office.

It’s hard not to think about every other time you’ve found yourself alone with the parents of your students, though. A heat crawls onto your face at the very thought of it. You find Naoya repellent, disgusting – but then again, he’s also (and you’re not being glib about it) handsome. You’d be lying if you’d said you sometimes hadn’t ignored a man’s personality for a night in favour of a face and a body that had drawn you in.

Not now.

You close the door behind you, clasping your hands together so you don’t clench your fists, and bow your head so that Naoya can’t tell that you’re grinding your teeth.

“I’m sorry for letting my emotions get the better of me, Sir,” you say, though it really does feel like you are gnashing ice to get the words out. “I should have been more polite. I can assure you it won’t happen again.”

“Mmm,” Naoya says, and you peek up at him through your lashes to see that he’s clearly enjoying having you at his mercy, his lips tilted into a smirk. His hair is still a little wet at the ends, but all that you throwing the water over him seems to have actually done is made his shirt cling tight to a surprisingly chiselled chest and stomach. Asshole. Fuck him. “Yes. I should hope not.”

You straighten yourself up, still a little stiff.

“I hope you can forgive me,” you say. “I . . . I am still learning my place in the establishment.”

He laughs, low and soft.

“Your place?” He asks, the words dangerously sweet on his tongue. “Yes. I can see you still need some help on that one.”

His eyes crawl over you slowly, dragging up and down the length of you, lingering over where your shorts cling to your hips and the tank top hugs your chest. You resist the urge to shift – you don’t want to let him know that he’s making you uncomfortable. You know, though, that he can sense that you have gone hot and prickly all over. He has that smug air; the one men who know what they do to people always seem to have cultivated. The knowledge that they are good-looking.

You suppose for Naoya, it’s the heady combination of knowing he is good-looking and powerful and rich, and you breathe through the force of all of his attention concentrated on you.

“Seeing as you’re still . . . new to all of this,” he says, bringing an arm forward to tap his long fingers on the desk. “And you did apologise prettily, I suppose I can forgive this transgression – just this once, darling.”

The pet name crawls up your spine like ice. He’s still staring at you, enjoying the view like you’re a piece of meat on a market stall he’s considering purchasing.

“Th-thank you, Sir,” you say, hating yourself a little bit but hating him all the more.

“You know,” he says. “You’re not exactly bad-looking.” He stands, rising to his full height, stretching out, frustratingly comfortable in this environment when you feel like a deer who’s about to turn tail and flee at any moment. “You’d be much better off at home raising children than here.” He wrinkles his nose. “Working for a living.” The way that he says the words makes it clear that he considers this a task far beneath the likes of him.

He’s moving towards you now, and your breath seems to get stuck in your throat as he’s suddenly in front of you, stalking elegantly. You want to snap back something about how you’d rather work for a living than have to rely on the whims of a man, much less a man like him – but as he grabs your chin to tilt it up to the light, you find that the words seem to die in your throat.

“Hmm,” he says. “Not bad at all.” He makes an approving noise that sends a flutter right through you, making you dully aware of a pounding ache between your thighs. He leans a little further in, until he’s so close that you can see the pale colours dancing in his eyes, the way the light hits his high cheekbones. “You’re trembling with rage, you know. It’s adorable.”

“You’re very easy to be angry at,” you half-breathe, half-hiss, and Naoya’s smirk is going to be burnt into your memory forever and ever.

“If you’re so angry,” he murmurs, “I can certainly think of a way I wouldn’t mind helping you work out your aggression.”

You shouldn’t do it. But your heart is beating a frantic rhythm against your ribcage and your breath is short, and part of you wants to wrestle him to the ground and dominate him so that he can have a taste of his own medicine. You grab a handful of his hair and drag him down into a bruising kiss.

Oh, and he kisses back. His mouth is soft against yours, but the kiss itself is rough – both of your tongues fighting for dominance, both of you trying to nip at one another’s bottom lip and seize the victory. You’re practically shoved backwards so that your ass catches the edge of the Vice Principal’s desk, even as you tug hard on Naoya’s hair to tell him that you’re not going to be overpowered by him so easily. You feel the feral curve of his grin as he pulls back just enough to whisper;

“Oh? You really think you’re going to get the better of me? You’re cute--” and then you push his shoulders hard, and he stumbles and falls back onto the chair he started this whole escapade sat in. You reach down to tug off your shirt, dropping it onto the floor beside you – Naoya looks for a moment like he’s going to stand back up and resume trying to wrest back the situation into his favour, but as he sees the slight bounce of your breasts in your bra he seems to decide it would be more interesting and beneficial for him to stay exactly where he is and watch you disrobe.

So you do, wriggling your shorts down past your hips – he lets out a low groan at that, as you stand before him in nothing but your underwear with your fists clenched on your hips.

You feel surprisingly powerful like this. It definitely makes a difference from all of the other ways you’ve felt when you’ve been alone with somebody’s father--

“Take off your shirt,” you tell him, and you’re almost surprised at the imperious tone in your own voice. “It’s your turn--”

He raises an eyebrow at you, but he does as you ask. Long fingers curling around the hem of his shirt, taking his sweet time pulling it off his body – and yes, it’s a nice one. Nice, too, are his thighs as he undoes his trousers that probably cost more than you make in a year and pushes them down, sitting before you in nothing but his equally as expensive-looking underwear – an impressive looking bulge outline pressed against the fabric. Even as he looks at you, he takes hold of himself through it and squeezes it, his grin crooked.

Your body does a throb of need.

“Oh,” you say, feigning surprise. “I didn’t realise you were so needy already--”

“Like you’re not dripping,” he says sharply, his eyes zeroing in on the space between your thighs. “Don’t flatter yourself. I can see the damp patch from here.”

“Who’s to say that’s for you?” You walk towards him. You can’t help but feel powerful and in control at how his eyes follow you with rapt attention, how his tongue darts out to swipe across his bottom lip as he drinks in your form in front of him.

“Please,” he says. “As if there’s anyone here more deserving.”

He reaches forward and his hands settle on your hips, dragging you closer to him – hot fingertips brushing your waist, the bare skin beneath your bra before he’s unclipping that too and your breasts are bare. He breathes in deeply.

“Pity,” he says, though his voice is thick with his own arousal. “You’re such a cute little thing, if only you didn’t open your mouth--”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t mind me opening my mouth to do something else,” you breathe, and you reach down to ghost your fingers over his cock through the tent in his underwear. He hisses through his teeth, his eyes half-lidded.

“Don’t just say it, princess,” he says. “If you’re going to run your mouth, the least you could do is make it do something useful--”

“I’d rather die than get on my knees for you.” Your mouth is very close to his neck – to punctuate the statement, you give his earlobe a tug with your teeth, and he practically groans. You’re almost straddling him on the chair, and you do not miss, either, the twitch that his cock seems to give at the tug.

It seems like for somebody who really wants to be in control, and wants women to know their place so badly, Naoya actually is rather enjoying somebody giving him a taste of his own medicine.

He grabs your underwear and pulls it down, clicking his tongue as it bunches about your knees.

“Just give into what your body wants,” he says, all saccharine sweetness in that slow, deep voice. “You’ve made a mess.”

You know you have. You can feel slick when your thighs press too close together, hot and wet between your legs. You really are practically dripping. But it’s not just from Naoya, you don’t think – it’s from the sudden power you’re feeling, the rush of being an equal participant in everything, in feeling like you have the upper hand. And not a small part, you think, is because of the adrenaline that’s coursing through your veins at the thought of putting Naoya Zenin in his place. You tip your head to the side innocently.

“What about you?” You ask, with a mean shade to the pitch of your voice. “You’re so hard it’s a wonder you’re not in pain--”

He grabs a hank of your hair with one hand whilst spreading your legs further with the other, so strong that the breath’s knocked out of you. The tip of his finger skims the outer lips of your sex, gathering your slick arousal on the pad as he growls;

“I’m still a man, darling. I see a pretty cunt to fuck and a pair of nice tits and I want to bury myself into it until the bitch remembers her place--”

“Good luck,” you breathe. “I think you’ll be the one remembering his place, here.”

He laughs breathlessly.

“Oh,” he purrs. “You’re going to be singing a different song when you’re begging me to fuck you harder.”

You give him a smile with your teeth bared; the challenge is obvious. It’s a smile that says ‘we’ll see’, even as you both tug at his underwear to pull it down and reveal what he’s been hiding beneath it.

You don’t want to admit that he’s got a pretty cock, but he has. He’s not the biggest you’ve seen, but it’s still impressive; a slight curve giving it an elegant angle that you realise with a clench will hit you exactly in the right spot when you take it inside of you.

He’s slick with his own pre-come, bubbling from the reddened slit – and as you shift forward and trap it between your thighs, he groans aloud again.

“That’s right,” he grunts, as the tip catches on your entrance and you begin to sink down upon it. “This is what you were made for, princess--”

“What?” You pant. “That would be disappointing. You barely fill me up--”

He grabs you and pulls you into another kiss as you finish off sheathing his cock inside of you – perhaps to save his pride, perhaps to muffle the noise that comes out of him, transferred into your mouth instead of his own. Whichever it is, you hate that you were right about the angle of his cock – you can feel it pressing snugly against the spongy G-spot even now, threatening you with a better time than you’d like to have.

You break the kiss to pull yourself off of him and sink back down, forcibly taking the lead and setting your own pace. You know it’s fast, you know it’s greedy – but fuck, if you aren’t boiling over with need.

You splay your hands across his shoulders, nails digging into his skin with little care to how you might mark him. You need him for leverage, as you continue to bounce up and down on his cock. Naoya tips his head back and groans, enjoying the feeling, before he remembers that you two are engaged in a battle of wits and attempts to get the better of you once more.

“I-is that,” he groans, coming to cling onto your waist and force you down on him with even more strength, helping you along in the too-fast rhythm of your thrusts and bounces. “The best you’ve got?”

“Come on,” you say breathlessly, as his cock continues to stroke that spot. You can hear the sounds of him sliding in and out of you, shamefully loud �� too, you can hear the sounds of your skin slapping against one another, echoing and mixing with the breathless pants and the attempts to trade barbed insults. “Y-you’re making me do all the work?”

“Fucking pity you’ve got such a nice cunt,” Naoya snarls, his hips flexing, somehow managing to hit you deeper even as you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet and straddling him on the chair. His words are starting to sound very far away. “You should be in my fucking bed, keeping it warm, better off than wasting away here--”

Both of you are running your mouths, overwhelmed by how close one another’s bodies are and the intense heat radiating from you. There’s a frisson of electricity in the air, showering sparks, as the two of you continue to snatch words in between moans and groans and pants and whimpers--

“You’re pathetic--”

“You’re so fucking tight, I shouldn’t be surprised when you’re such a bitch--”

“F-fuck, harder, c-can’t you even keep the momentum going? You’re weak--”

“Baby girl, you’re fucking shaking – you gonna come first? Women are so predictable--”

You can feel your release hovering on the edge of your vision, blurring it as your eyes squeeze shut and you feel tears threatening to roll down your cheeks. There’s a heat inside of you that’s close to overspilling – and as you come down on him particularly hard, the head of his cock rolls over your g-spot just right, and you feel a dam inside of you break as your nails dig hard enough into his shoulders to draw blood. You bury your face into his neck so he doesn’t get the satisfaction of hearing you cry out his name, teeth worrying into his neck to leave a love-bite reminder of exactly what transpired between you two in the Vice Principal’s office.

You feel yourself twitch and tighten around him as your orgasm rocks your body, heat running through you like veins of marble. You can’t breathe – all you can do is bite, your hips chasing the final aftershocks.

Naoya is still hard inside of you as you lift yourself off him, letting his cock slip out of you as easily as butter. His own hands clench around your hips.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He asks, his voice rough and hungry. Despite that, though, you can hear the thread of some other emotion sewn in to them – and with a shiver of delight, you realise it’s neediness. He’s been left wanting, and you’ve been handed all of the cards. “I haven’t finished.”

“And you won’t finish inside me,” you snap at him, enjoying the longing in his voice. “Ask me very nicely and I’ll finish you off with my hand.”

“Mouth,” he demands – and he grabs your cheeks, squishing them, pulling you down and reminding you of all of the power that he has even though it’s your body that’s got the advantage of the high ground. “You don’t really think I’m going to be satisfied with your hand, princess--”

“You don’t deserve it,” you spit at him, but you sink to your knees anyway.

You’re not entirely lacking in manners. You suppose you did get to come. It would be rude to just leave him like this. Especially when the whole reason you’d ended up in this office in the first place was to apologise to him politely.

“This is the perfect position for you,” he sneers, as you open your mouth and envelope the head of his cock within it. You can taste yourself on his shaft. “Fuck, that’s right – put your mouth to good use for once--”

You give him a mean, slow lick along the slit of his cock head that makes him groan in the back of his throat. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck, fingers digging into the nape so he can control you at least a little bit, pushing you a touch too far so you almost choke. You pull off it, drooling.

“Choke me again and I’ll bite,” you snarl, and he pats your cheek like you’re an obedient dog.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he says – and you narrow your eyes at him in a way that says ‘try me’ before you return to sucking at him, hollowing your cheeks. You want to do a good job. A part of you wants to make him come so hard that he regrets being an asshole to you, even though you know that’s ridiculous and not going to happen.

Still. You’re not going to back down from a challenge, so you use your tongue to play along as much of his cock as you can.

“Fuck,” Naoya breathes. “Good . . . good fuckin’ girl—”

You’ve been hearing that low, polite drawl swear and curse for what seems like hours, but that one sends another pulse of heat through you – at your heart, you can’t argue that you love being praised. You whimper against his cock, glad that the fast pace you’ve managed to establish and the wet noises of your mouth around him muffle the noise so Naoya can’t dangle it over your head.

The hand on the nape of your neck jerks, so that you’re forced to look up at him and meet his eyes proper. His hips are slamming to meet your bobs now, the noise of him fucking your mouth filling the room. His teeth dig into his bottom lip and you feel him twitch, his voice pitching--

Salt coats your tongue as he fills your mouth.

But he doesn’t let himself finish there.

He pulls out, and he pumps his cock himself two, three times – coaxing out the other ropes of come, that hit your neck and chest and breasts hot and white and glistening. You’re too surprised by it to do anything – you’d expected him to keep your mouth on him, make you swallow down everything he gave you. He seems the kind of guy who gets off on that sort of thing--

But instead, he’s sighing, relaxing back into the chair as he looks at you with lazy eyes.

“You look cute like that,” he says, his voice low and sated. “I should take a picture.”

“Fuck you,” you breathe, getting off your knees. You are so fucking thankful for the box of tissues on the Vice Principal’s desk, as you reach across and grab some to dab at yourself so you’re not sticky and disgusting for any longer than necessary.

If you leave them in his pedal waste-bin, you hope that the cleaning crew will dispose of them before the Vice Principal is even aware that they’re there. Your lip curls as you wipe your mouth. You wish you had a mint – or at least a glass of water. Even tap water would do.

For what it’s worth, Naoya seems a little agitated as he puts himself to rights too. Evidently he was not expecting you to fight back so much – he places a finger on his shoulders and scowls when he sees that you made him bleed.

“I should sue you for assault,” he says. You tap your own body, at the curve of your hips and waist.

“I’m going to bruise,” you tell him. “So I guess it would be self-defence.”

“You’re too smart for your own good,” he tells you, with narrowed eyes – and you give him another smile, one that is clearly fake, as you pull your tank top and shorts back on and re-tie your shoes.

You’re surprised as you go to leave the room and he sets a hand on the small of your back in a mocking echo of polite manners. As the two of you walk down the corridor towards the exit, he does not remove it. To the assembled crowds, you hope it will look entirely innocent – like the two of you have merely had a little chat and come to an agreement instead of heatedly fucking one another’s brains out.

You blink as you emerge out into the light, your eyes taking a moment to adjust. You see Principal Masamichi give you a sympathetic smile – and there’s Gojo, immediately charging towards you like an overprotective bear. He slows down as he sees the way that Naoya is still touching you.

“I hope everything’s alright,” he says, sounding stiffer and more formal than you usually hear. Naoya’s smile towards him is cold.

“Everything’s fine,” he says, “Perfect. You apologised beautifully, didn’t you, Miss?” Naoya looks down his nose at you, a conceited smile on his mouth. “I’ve decided to overlook this little transgression.” He leaves a pause, and you swallow as you realise what he’s waiting for.

“Thank you so much, Mr Zenin, Sir,” you say. Again, it feels like you have to force the words out through a mouthful of marbles – but they make it out of your mouth.

“Oh, don’t be so formal, Miss,” he smirks. “You can call me Naoya. I look forward to seeing you again – soon, I hope.”

“You’re just in time,” Gojo says coldly. “Maki just won the final race of the day for our team.”

Naoya’s gaze is sharp as he looks at him. His lip curls. You can tell that both of them want to do something – maybe have an out-and-out fist fight on the field. But Naoya manages to get a grip (you’re glad about it; you’re not entirely sure whether Gojo would have been able to hold back) and turns on his heel to stalk away.

He does give your ass one last squeeze, though, that you desperately hope that Gojo doesn’t notice.

Gojo’s shoulders stay set, his chin thrust proudly forward, until Naoya has been swallowed up by the crowd at large – and then, he turns to you. For the first time, you see his normally humorous eyebrows draw in with worry.

“You look upset,” he says. “Sweaty. You smell terrible. Do you need a minute?”

Your shoulders fall. Gojo gives you a sympathetic pat on the back.

“It’s a rite of passage to deal with someone from the Zenin family,” he says. “You’re just unlucky it happened to actually be Naoya today. He usually sends an underling or an uncle or someone to pretend to care about the girls.”

Wow. You sure hope the rite of passage has gone differently for everyone else.

“Why d’you think he came here today, then?” You ask Gojo. He looks at you strangely, a spark of something you can’t quite read in his eyes.

“Well,” he says, “he’s related to the Fushiguros, you know. I heard he and Megumi’s father have met up recently for drinks – it ended in a fight, of course, it always does. But maybe he expected Megumi’s dad to be here too?” He shrugs. “He can never resist an opportunity to relish over someone in his family winning, even if he doesn’t want Maki doing anything unladylike. Megumi’s dad isn’t here, though, so looks like that backfired on him--”

Your face feels like it’s on fire as you think about Megumi’s father fucking you on Gojo’s desk – and the lingering way that Naoya had said that he’d heard so much about you from everyone.

#naoya zenin x reader #naoya x reader #naoya x you #naoya smut #naoya zenin smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #not sfw #afab reader #fem pronouns #jjk teacher aid au #jjk writing #writing

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haleigh-sloth · 3 years

Note

Do you think hori got more and more vague with endeavor’s physical abuse as the story went on? Like I think an anon said, the most graphic abusive scene we got from him was that one page with todoroki puking and a smack sound effect indicating that endeavor slapped rei off page.

Much later on in chapter 302, I think, when he realized dabi was still training in secret, we see rei on the ground cradling her face and todoroki crying and shouting at endeavor to not “bully mom��. Some endeavor stans say he didn’t hit her but rather that she and shouto were napping and endeavor just came in and started verbally bashing her and rei was just hiding her face because she was scared or something.

The thing is, hori had no problem with explicitly showing shigaraki’s dad slapping and beating the shit out of tomura with a gardening tool, in the face at that, so why is he so vague with endeavor? And especially with rei. We also have yet to see what was going down in todoroki’s private training sessions. What happened that made him puke when he was five? We saw once endeavor holding a kendo bamboo blade, what did he do with it? Attack his son?

I might be exaggerating, but if his physical abuse was more clearly shown, some endeavor delulus wounds exist. Cause, for example, if we hadn’t seen tomura’s dad hitting him in the face with full force, and it was only hinted at, I bet there would be some fans saying that tomura’s abuse wasn’t that bad and his dad kept trying to dissuade him form his hero dream cause at that point it seemed as he most likely didn’t have a quirk.

*sweats nervously*

Well, yes. But also not really?

CW: Abuse

So—here’s one thing we all need to understand and begrudgingly accept:

Endeavor was retconned.

He was retconned in the sense that his M.O. was backpedaled. When he’s first introduced we are shown that he’s this physically abusive piece of shit who beats his wife and his kids, and has almost no redeeming qualities. And we're led to believe that the entire. fucking. series, but at the same time it's becoming obvious that he's going to be this redeemable person, and that he's slowly coming to terms with what he did and that he is going to have to face his past actions. Which honestly could have worked fine----until the Todofam chapters threw a wrench into that shit. THEN we're suddenly shown that Endeavor actually wasn't this violent, physically abusive piece of shit, but in fact only escalated to get that bad because of his spiraling son and him not being able to face the damage he'd already caused. Basically, the author went back and made it to where his violent actions toward his wife and kid were a reaction to a stressor (Touya's mental health), instead of just leaving him as this abusive piece of shit that he was originally introduced as, making him shoulder less blame--making him less guilty. We were still shown that he was an abusive person toward his oldest son, but it was kind of a big shock to see that he actually managed to have a strong bond with one of his kids in the first place, because as I said--most of the series we're shown Shouto and Natsuo hating him, Rei being terrified of him visiting the hospital, and Fuyumi acknowledging the tension in the house when he was incredibly angry after AM's retirement. All things that happen when you're an abusive POS to your family and they're scared of you or blame you. So seeing him have a son who craved his attention so much to the point that it killed him was kind of a shock. ALTHOUGH, I have to agree with this anon here and say that making it this way does add a certain element of sheer sadness to it. But I digress.

The thing about the retcon is that no amount of backpedaling can erase this

And because THIS ^^^ is canon and undeniably HAPPENED, we are only able to assume that it started here ⬇️⬇️

Endeavor was violent and physically abusive toward his wife. It wasn’t like that from the beginning, but it has to start somewhere. This is the starting point ^^^. This was the breaking point, Touya kept getting burned, and Endeavor lost it on Rei. And I am tired of explaining E-stans away. You don't draw two small children covering their ears and hiding in a different room while listening to the horror of your parents and baby sibling screaming at each other unless you're trying to convey the horror of that situation to readers. I don't consume bad takes so I just recommend that you stay away from them as well. Saves a lot of stress.

People can say what they want, but Endeavor's abuse was not vague. I wouldn't consider the physical aspect of it to be vague either. I think that's just the beauty of the retcon. He wasn't physically abusive from the START, but that doesn't erase the fact that he became physically abusive. But we DO know that from the time Touya's potential disappeared, Endeavor started abusing his family.

Emotionally at first, then it became physical.

The thing you gotta ask yourself is, what is the purpose of this retcon? In my opinion, Hori could have still redeemed Endeavor without retconning him. Not everybody would have liked it, but you can't please everybody. That's just a fact. The retcon wasn't necessary to redeem Endeavor. So in my opinion, and I say this with caution, I think Hori retconned Endeavor to make it more acceptable to integrate him back into the family. Or at least imply it. I think that's the ending Horikoshi is going toward. Not a fan of it, but.....look at the writing. It's got wish fulfillment written all over it. It's not gonna make people happy, but at the end of the day, it's not anybody's story but Horikoshi's. He can do what he wants with it. But no amount of retconning can erase the cold, hard truth:

Now as for Shigaraki's situation being so cut and dry without any vagueness--

Look, I would bet money that Horikoshi has had Shigaraki's story planned out for years. His entire arc is central to everything that BNHA is about. All of BNHA's themes, messages, conflicts, and answers lie in Shigaraki's story. Shigaraki is the best written character in this story for a reason. There's no retconning, and he has been carefully written with, in my opinion, no flaws in his story.

The reason he didn't have a problem showing how horrible it got with Shigaraki is because of those reasons I listed above. His story is the heart of BNHA and Horikoshi isn't gonna sugar coat or hide the tragedy in the story's central arc. Otherwise....the entire story just starts to fall apart and not make sense. You don't know what to believe. It becomes too hard to follow and unenjoyable.

Basically what I'm saying (assuming) is: Shigaraki's story is something Hori has never questioned himself about. He knew where he was going with it, and how. That's why there's none of this vagueness or sugar coating in his arc.

His arc is delivering everything BNHA is about to the readers.

#bnha #bnha asks #anonymous #cw abuse #todofam #todoroki siblings #todoroki touya #boku no hero academia #shigaraki tomura #shimura tenko #abuse #bnha meta #mha meta

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tenthgrove · 3 years

Note

Can I request the one where La Squadra thought the reader was pregnant (when she just actually visited her kid) situation for Bruno's gang?

Mother Mother- Bucci Edition

Team Buccerati x Reader (Fem), Platonic, SFW

Bruno Buccerati is feeling restless. He's not one to pry, but your behaviour lately is starting to concern him. Leaving the base for hours without explanation is no cause for worry in itself, after all, you're not obliged to inform him of your whereabouts 24/7 and you're hardly the only one on the team who does this, but together with the ceaseless obsession with cutting your finances, the uncharacteristic melancholy and the jolt of panic whenever your personal circumstances become the topic of conversation all add up to a bad picture.

The final straw for Buccerati came today, in which while passing you idly on the sofa he caught sight of the word 'parenthood' printed on the title of the leaflet you were reading. He didn't see the rest of what it said, but your guilty smile at being caught spoke well enough for itself.

Buccerati truly does feel bad about this, but with how defensive you become at even the smallest sign of confrontation, he sees no other choice. As he watches you depart your bedroom and head into the bathroom, he waits quietly for the rush of water from the shower, before sneaking into your unlocked bedroom unnoticed.

He will make clear, he thinks to himself as he pilfers through the loose paper on your desk for that leaflet, that he is not angry. If it's what your heart is set on, he isn't even that opposed to the idea of you raising the baby yourself. The squad is decently paid and their work isn't as dangerous or all-consuming as some, so they can manage. He even feels a little bit of excitement at the thought of helping you with your offspring. He's only doing this because it can't be healthy for you to conceal your pregnancy like this. Children have always been such precious things to him.

A pink leaflet flits off of the desk and Buccerati picks up his prize. He reads the title in full.

"Parenthood for the Parents of Hospitalised Children: What Doctors Advise"

Ahh. Now that changes things. Buccerati feels his heart sink at the sight of the stock image of a mother and father standing over the bedside of a sickly-looking girl. He guiltily returns the leaflet to its former place and tries to reorganise the paper as he found it, before exiting quickly.

Having learned his lesson well about making assumptions on too little evidence, Buccerati sits down with his phone book. There's a fellow on one of the intel teams who owes him a small favour, and it's time he called on it.

“Hello, it’s Buccerati, could you do something for me quickly? I need you to check the records of all the hospitals in Naples that hospitalise chronically ill children, and take a look through the names of the patients in the children's ward," he requests. "There's a specific surname I'm after, hang on, I'll find it for you." Buccerati racks his brains. If there's one thing he's certain your being honest about it's your real name. He pulls it from his memories and relays it to his friend. "No, no need to take any action once you find them. Just let me know the details, particularly of the illness. Very well, thank you," he concludes the phone call and hangs up. He leans back in the seat and sighs.

He barely gets half an hour to rest before the phone rings.

"Oh hello, that was quick. Did you find them? That's excellent. What did the records say?"

The agent relays his findings. Matching the surname he gave him is a little girl about 5 years old, currently residing in the hospital closest to Buccerati's base. The child is suffering from a frightful condition that, although rarely fatal with treatment, can leave sufferers in need of constant medical care for months on end, along with more minor support for years after.

The most concerning thing about the records is that the agent was able to find visitation logs attached to the data, and they all speak of a single, anonymous visitor with recorded visits matching perfectly with the dates and times of your disappearances.

Buccerati thanks the agent and promises to wire him a little money for his quick and extensive help. Hanging up, he broods deeply. He cannot simply allow your suffering to continue if there's anything, anything at all he can do to help.

He is broken from his trance by the sounds of panicked footsteps running in from the hall. He catches sight of Mista and Narancia sneaking in from the hallway, and is struck by the immediate impression that they are by all definitions, up to no good.

"What's the matter you two? You seem startled," he presses them patiently. He is met with two loud sounds of 'uhhhh'.

"Nothing Buccerati, we swear it!" Narancia promises.

"Yeah! In fact, we were just going to the shops and were arguing over what to get!" Mista backs him up. Buccerati rolls his eyes and smiles.

"Alright. Not too much sugar, Narancia? We don't want to find you being sick in the bathroom at two in the morning again, do we?"

"It's not me you have to worry about doing that now," Narancia mutters under his breath.

"Pardon?" Buccerati asks, confused.

"Nothing! We should go now!"

The boys immediately make their exit out the front and disappear down the street. Bruno tuts. Sometimes he thinks he'll never understand that lot. He smiles.

As he replays the encounter in his head, it occurs to him what that strange item poking out of Mista's pocket was. The leaflet from (y/n)'s room. Shit.

"Mista? Narancia? I think we should have a word please!" Buccerati shouts down the entry street. But it's two late, they've both disappeared out of earshot. Buccerati throws his hands up in despair, and returns to his room.

::::::::::::

Abbacchio knows what he sees. Mista and Narancia go running down the street and about 20 second later, Buccerati goes out shouting. As Abbacchio watches Buccerati return to the house in defeat, he makes a decision. He's had enough of those kids and their petty little antics. If Buccerati doesn't have it in him to set them straight, he will.

"You look pressed," Fugo remarks as Abbacchio pushes past him in the corridor.

"None of your business. Mista and Narancia are up to no good and now I've got to go and find them," Abbacchio grunts.

"Narancia?! But he promised me he'd work on his assignments tonight! Little bastard, I'll kill him!" Fugo fumes.

"Will you now? Better keep up then," Abbacchio says, throwing on his coat.

It doesn't take them long at all to find Mista and Narancia. Indeed, they're cowering in the very first alleyway left of the house.

"We can explain," Narancia promises.

"I bet you can," Abbacchio mutters half-heartedly.

"Take a look at this!" Narancia urges them. He pulls a pink leaflet from Mista's pocket and rereads it himself. "It says 'parenthood'. We found it in (y/n)'s room. Does that mean she's pregnant?"

"Why in god's name were you snooping around in (y/n)'s room?" Abbacchio interrogates them.

"Furthermore Narancia, you can't read," Fugo adds.

"Well, for a start, Buccerati did it first. We just went in after him to see what it was he was looking for. Second, Mista read it for me, and he swears it says 'parenthood'. Isn't that right Mista?"

"Sure is," Mista affirms. "Look."

He flicks the leaflet in front of them and, sure enough, they all read the same word. Abbacchio and Fugo curse simultaneously.

"What the hell is their game, thinking they can hide something like this from us?" Abbacchio fumes. "Does Bruno think he's protecting her or something? He's a fool."

"If I may, Abbacchio, it is most uncharacteristic of you to speak ill of Signor Buccerati," a voice from behind protests. Abbacchio turns with a jolt to see Giorno standing at the entrance of the alleyway along with a very bewildered looking Trish. They each have a couple of shopping bags in their hands.

"Are you spying on me?!" Abbacchio shrieks.

"Not at all. I simply thought that going after dark would be a much safer time for Trish to do her shopping, so I was taking her out," Giorno explains. "I overheard your voices and came to investigate, but I really haven't heard much."

"(Y/n)'s pregnant and Buccerati's hiding it from us," Mista fills him in.

"Wait, I'm lost. Did Buccerati get her pregnant? Because if so, what in the actual hell?" Trish comments.

"Fucking christ. Could you imagine?" Narancia remarks. The group soon devolves into a mess of interrupted shouting.

"All of you quiet!" Abbacchio yells. He holds up his hands in desperation. "We are going to get to the bottom of this and we're going to do it now! We are going right home, and we are getting (y/n) to explain herself, whether she likes it or not. Agreed?"

::::::::::::

You had an awful eery feeling getting out that shower would be a mistake. The last thing you expected tonight was being hounded by your dear teammates while you're half dressed and wet haired, particularly on such an outlandish concept as pregnancy.

"Slow down! What the hell are you accusing me of again?"

"You're having a baby and you aren't even telling us! Do you have any idea how much those cost?" Trish accuses. You don't even have an answer for that one, it's just so completely wrong there's no way to refute it.

"We aren't looking to judge, we just want to help," Giorno assures you, though his voice is drowned out by the rest of the rabble.

"I don't need help, I'm not having a baby!" you protest. Narancia opens his mouth.

"But the leaflet says-"

"What on god's earth are the lot of you doing?" Bruno calls from the hallway. "Why are you all hounding (y/n) all of a sudden."

"You think we don't know what you know, Buccerati?" Abbacchio confronts him. "You're complicit in this. You're helping to hide this- baby!"

Buccerati breathes deeply.

"Ah. I believe I know what this is about. Mista, I want you to take that leaflet you found and read the front page out to me. In full."

Mista complies.

"Parenthood... for the Parents of Hospitalised Children. Oh."

"You made the same mistake I did," Buccerati explains. "You saw the first word and immediately jumped to your own conclusions. But in regards to the full title I have carried out some follow up and have confirmed it is exactly what it sounds like. (Y/n) has a young daughter who is unfortunately quite sick at present, and she has understandably been taking time off to be with her."

"You know about her?" you exclaim in panic.

"Apologies (y/n), I was acting only in concern for your health. It was admittedly due to my poor caution that the others found out and, well, it went from there."

"Look," you protest, thoughts spiralling into panic. "I didn't mean for you to know. You said I could do what I wanted with my money so I did. There- there was no other way I could afford to treat her," you justify, tears starting to leak from your eyes. "Please don't kick me out. I swear this doesn't affect my work, all I need is a few hours a week to check on her!"

You collapse against the door in tears. The crowd goes into a shocked silence. Buccerati pushes to the front.

"Hey, hey, I'm not going to kick you out so don't worry," he promises. "I would never cut off a member of my squad like that, especially not when they have such a vulnerable dependent. We can talk about helping you with the money tomorrow, but now, let's get you calmed down okay?"

You nod through your tears. Buccerati guides you to your feet and leads you gently into the kitchen. The remaining group in the hall look at each other with pressed lips. Fugo takes the leaflet from Mista and reads through the front cover once more. He hits him.

#team buccerati #team buccellati #bruno buccerati x reader #bruno buccellati x reader #bruno buccerati #bruno buccellati #leone abbacchio #leone abbacchio x reader #giorno giovanna #giorno giovanna x reader #guido mista #guido mista x reader #narancia ghirga #narancia ghirga x reader #pannacotta fugo #pannacotta fugo x reader #trish una #trish una x reader

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midnightswithdearkatytspb · 3 years

Text

VelvetCardiganBucky’s Recommendations 2021: Week 16 | April 11th – April 17th

Welcome to week 16 of my recommendations, if you would like to be featured on a future list, I follow the hashtag #VelvetCardiganBucky, message me, tag me in your future works, or reblog this post and link to your story, one-shot, Masterlist, writing challenge, etc.

Be aware some if not most stories and writers on this list are meant to be consumed by an audience of those 18+. My blog is also an 18+ blog.

✨Page breaks are made @firefly-graphics✨

«Last Week

Week 17»

My Masterlist

My Fic Rec List of Mafia/Mob Bucky/Sebastian & Steve/Chris/Andy

Stuff I Posted This Week:

Lee Bodecker

One-Shots:

Rough Love by @ladyfallonavenger » Lee Bodecker x Reader — Lee wakes to his wife getting ready for the day. This work is inspired by the song Poker Face by Lady Gaga. | So very hot. 🥵

I Can’t Wait To Meet You by @not-a-great-writer » Lee Bodecker x Pregnant!Reader — Request: Lee doesn’t want to leave his pregnant wife’s side. | I summarized the requested one-shot up. It’s very fluffy and domestic and sweet. I say we petition for the user name to be changed not a great writer to a fantastic writer!

(Mini) Series:

*Give In 🎡 Pt.21 🎡 Pt.22 by @not-a-great-writer » Soft!Dark!Lee Bodecker x Shy!Reader — She didn’t think she was anything special. So when the intimidating Sheriff takes an interest in her, she can’t help but feel a little unsettled. Her boring life is about to get a little interesting. | Can I just say this story is just *chefs kiss*? Lee Bodecker? *chefs kiss* Reader? *chefs kiss* It’s just all so perfect and so is the smut.

Bucky Barnes

One-Shots:

I’m In The Water by @nsfwsebbie » Dark!Winter Soldier x Reader — He’s in the wind, and you’re in the water. Nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter. | Read the tags, this is extremely dirty as well as dark, but I honestly enjoyed it. Sabrina really blew my mind with this one.

Show A Little Gratitude by @thicccsimp » Bucky Barnes x Reader — You discover a new kink with Bucky after making a bad call during a mission. | Hot, Hot, Hot 🥵

Just Wondering by @infernal-fire » soft!dark!Buck Barnes x Reader — Reader is pregnant and has some mixed feelings. | This is sort of adorable, and pregnancy hormones really come out in this.

Sunday Kinda’ Love by @msmarvelwrites » Bucky Barnes x Reader — You weren’t sure when it happened, falling in love with Bucky Barnes. | Brontë is such an amazing writer who wrote something that made my heart squeal while the rest of me just thought it was really hot.

Don’t You by @pagesoflauren » Bucky Barnes x Reader — Bucky sees you for the first time after breaking up with you. | Taylor Swift and Bucky Barnes what more could you ask for in life?

(Mini) Series:

Just Like Dad 💋 Pt.2 by @ladyfallonavenger » Bucky Barnes x Reader — The Reader loses Bucky in the snap and life presents a whole new challenge. | It’s got your angst and your fluff, everything you need for a perfect one-shot.

Sweet Dreams Pt.3 ✨ Pt.1 ✨ Pt.2 by @jedimastermelkor » Bucky Barnes x Reader; Mystery Avenger x Reader — Your daily routine involves waking up in the morning, going to work and sulking at night. But then you meet the man you’ve fantasized about for your entire life, Bucky Barnes. At the same time, you’ve caught someone else’s eye and his first step in winning you over is to cook you breakfast. But will you be welcoming of that person’s affections? | You can tell Bucky really likes the reader in this and the reader has a crush on Bucky. Now you add Peter who you know has a crush on the reader. It's sort of adorable. I highly recommend it. It will keep you at the edge of your seat and your jaw hitting the floor a couple of times along the way.

Stucky

(Mini) Series:

The Miracle Pt.3 ✨ Pt.1 ✨Pt.2 by @heavenhatesme » Soft!Dark!Stucky x Reader — When infertility threatens mankind with extinction and there hasn’t been a baby for almost 18 years, what happens when two certain super soldiers fall for the same woman and accidentally impregnate her? | Heed the tags folks. I want to call them soft!dark, but they are pretty dark, but it’s up to you the reader to decide. The smut in this is great, and the storyline just as good, it also pulls on your heartstrings.

Vampires Will Never Hurt You by @missgraceomalley » Steve Rogers x Darcy Lewis; Bucky Barnes x Darcy Lewis; Steve Rogers x Darcy Lewis x Bucky Barnes — Darcy's been hiding something and Steve can't pin what it is. Can the serum help him? Or will he be compelled away? (AO3)| I love stories that take you on twist and turns, I also love vampires, add in Damon Salvatore plus the two Super Soldiers? You make me very happy!

*Brooklyn Wars by @world-of-aus » Mob!Steve x Reader, Mob!Bucky x Reader / Eventual Mob!Stucky x Reader — Childhood friends pulled apart by a move and a rivalry between families, will a shared promise of ‘till the end of the line’ be enough to keep them together. Or will a deal struck up gone wrong, and an indecisiveness to choose who your heart loves be the ‘end of the line.’ | I spent my Saturday morning re-reading this and loving every part and wishing for more. @world-of-aus is such a fantastic writer that doesn’t get enough recognition in my list.

Steve Rogers

(Mini) Series:

*His Koala Bear by @kinanabinks » Dark!Steve Rogers x Innocent!Reader — You and steve have been best friends since you were 5. for the longest time, he has wanted so much more from you. and it’s getting harder for him to stop himself from taking it. | Prepare for the emotional roller coaster this story is going to take you on and to change your underwear or perhaps to take a cold shower, maybe both.

*Lipstick and Crayons 🖍 Pt.5 by @oneoftheprettynerds » Dark!Mob!Steve Rogers x Single Mom!Reader — Steve can’t ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can’t get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob. | This story makes you feel like you are watching a Dark!Mob Romantic movie staring Steve Rogers. It’s just that good and I love it.

Ransom Drysdale

One-Shots:

Sugar by @chrissquares » Ransom Drysdale x Reader — Reader sees Ransom in his glasses for the first time. | Let’s be honest, I wouldn’t mind seeing Ransom in his glasses more often, especially if he looked like that.

(Mini) Series:

Stolen What’s Mine Pt.1 by @wanderinglunarnights » Ransom Drysdale x OFC!Charlotte Callahan — Charlotte and Ransom are up for the same promotion at the publishing house. She hates his handsome ass, especially when he steals the job as editor in chief out from under her nose. | Charlotte is sassy and she isn’t going to take any of Ransom’s nonsense, I love it! You can tell it’s going to be a good one!

Andy Barber

One-Shots:

I’ll Be Here by @candlefics » Andy Barber x Reader — Jacob grew up with you around. What happens when he’s convicted of murder, and his family falls apart? What will your relationship with Andy turn into? | I like this take on a show I have still yet to watch. It was sweet and emotional, a must read in my book.

(Mini) Series:

*Moment’s Silence Pt.3 🥞 Pt.1 🥞 Pt.2 by @syntheticavenger » Frank Adler x Reader; Andy Barber x Reader — The tumultuous relationship between twin brothers Frank and Andy takes a turn for the worse when Andy offers to wipe out Frank’s debt by asking for the one thing Andy wants that Frank has. | This story has me wanting to bite my nails in anticipation even though I can’t. So freaking good!

Misc.

Drabbles:

Good Behavior by @syntheticavenger » Dark!Andy Barber x Reader; Soft Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader — Andy’s special delivery arrives with a familiar face. | This is hot in a way you wouldn’t expect it to be, and I’m sort of wishing for a part 2.

One-Shots:

*Distractions by @rebelwrites » Jax Teller x Reader — I requested “Can you please put a shirt on?” | Let me just say this prompt was just so well written and it put a smile on my face. I would welcome Jax as a distraction any day, as long as he threw one of his signature panty dropping smiles my way.

Seal Team

One-Shot:

I’m Not Good Enough by @rebelwrites » Sonny Quinn x Reader — “So, we’re just going to ignore the fact that you drunk-dialed me to tell me you love me?” | This broke my heart than it fixed it. 💗

No Damsel In Distress by @rebelwrites » Clay Spenser x Reader — #3 and #13 for Clay Spenser. “Even when we were kids, i always kicked your ass!” And “How is my wife more badass than me?” | So hilarious and badass.

You Aren’t Allowed To Be Sick by @rebelwrites » Clay Spenser x Reader — “What do you mean you’re sick?! You’re my partner in crime!” | Clay can buy me flowers and take care of me any day.

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jayz4dayz · 3 years

Text

Kakegurui character headcanons that are canon in my eyes (Part 3)

Midari:

You already know this bitch has done hard drugs. She’s probably a dealer at Hyakkaou too ngl

Actually very intelligent and could get all A’s if she cared enough to

Canonly lesbian

She/they vibes

Hardcore energy drink consumer. Monster and Redbull cans are all over the floor of her dorm room

If you simp for her… ya got mommy and daddy issues, luv-

Is physically touchy toward everyone, but lowkey recoils when someone she doesn’t know or trust touches her

Actively tries to annoy the shit out of both Sayaka and Yuriko as her way of showing her affection

Night person

I can see her actively practicing witchcraft

Favorite holiday is Halloween

Probably has a glass eye somewhere but doesn’t bother putting it in because the eyepatch is a ✨look✨

Was the kid in school who ate glue or play dough

Is best friends with Sayaka. Do not fight me on this

Needs to go to therapy. Honestly, who doesn’t in that school

Weapon of choice is her revolver, of course <3

Will often lay in Yuriko’s lap because Yuriko actually lets her. It’s one of her favorite things to do when she needs to unwind

Slytherin. 100% a Slytherin.

Has at least one tattoo somewhere and nipple piercings too if we’re being honest

Can’t stand hot weather and prefers the cold

Avid fan and listener of the band Mother Mother

Canonly almost shot a person on accident or on purpose with her revolver

Will flirt with Kirari just to piss off Sayaka

Will flirt with Yuriko just to see her get flustered

(Y’all can come after me all you want for this one) Has a crush on Yuriko

ESTP-A personality type

Has a pet tarantula

Most likely had a pen explode in her mouth while she was chewing on it in class at some point

Everyone asks “where is Midari?” but no one asks “how is Midari?”

Favorite color is black or purple

For SURE owns at least one choker

Yuriko:

Refuses to take hard drugs but has accidentally gotten high off her ass from an edible. Midari’s edible, mind you

Is the mom friend of the group

Owns a minivan and drives Midari and Runa places

Has a dent on the side of the same minivan because Midari hit the side of it with a shopping cart that Runa was in

Nurse vibes tbh

Keeps her eyes closed because she’s lowkey blind and can’t see much anyway

Ravenclaw all the way

Was a horse girl in elementary school

Has either really beautiful emerald green eyes or average Hudson-river colored brown eyes. Will we ever know?

Is secretly a cat girl. Why else do you think I used that image in particular for her

Easily flustered

Has a crush on Midari but is still confused about her sexuality

She sure as hell ain’t straight tho. Not in that school...

An only child

Is struggling, but wears a smile regardless

Stepped on a butterfly once and sobbed

Ya know... say what you want, but I get vegetarian/vegan vibes from her

Avid hot tea drinker

Has pollen allergies

Morning person

Prefers warmer weather and hates the rain

Has spa days with Yumemi once and a while

Can’t lift anything heavier than twenty pounds probably

Would be on the Volley ball team if she wasn’t head of the Culture Club

Several girls in her club have a huge crush on her and compete against Midari to gain her affection and attention

Has straight A’s

Idk why, but I can’t see her knowing how to swim

Gets cold easily

Wears kimonos even when she’s at home

Enjoys reading classical literature

Also enjoys listening to classical music

Would never admit this, but she listens to K-pop

Has a hidden talent for drawing

ISFJ-T personality type

Weapon of choice is a bo-staff (which is really just a broom stick) or Midari

Can speak Japanese, Korean, and Mandarin

Runa:

Has absolutely done crack and likely a handful of other drugs

Has a sugar addiction, but we already knew that one

G R E M L I N E N E R G Y

Most likely has ADHD or ADD or both even

I saw somewhere that said she’s 18?? Like, what?? She looks like she’s 12 tf...

Asexual/Aromatic icon

Hufflepuff vibes, but I can also kinda see her as a Slytherin

Jokingly homophobic towards Kirasaya and Yuridari

Will drink nothing aside from soda or energy drinks

Not a furry, contrary to popular belief. Just enjoys her onesies. Let her live her life jeez

Canonly a baddie

Short, but will not hesitate in destroying your kneecaps

Actually really close to the Momobami and Ikishima family

Plays video games with Midari almost every day after school since Aoi left

Ironically uses “UwU” and “Ara, ara” but does not ironically call people a simp. Can you blame her? She’s surrounded by wlw

Will beat you in Mario Cart. Yes she will. I don’t care how good you think you are

Has managed to not break a single bone in her body despite her size

Is good at every subject except for geography

Can’t drive, but owns a scooter which she’ll use to get to school if Yuriko is unable to drive her

Owns a pair of Heely’s with wheels

Unironically wears socks with sandals

Also wears crocs

Listens to rap

Is fast af. “Zoom, zoom, bitches!”

Secretly a badass gambler

Gets approximately 2-5 hours of sleep each night because she stays up playing video games

Naps during her classes

Listens and ignores whenever Kirari is pining over Sayaka and talking to her about it

ENFP-A personality type

I can see her owning a hedgehog for some reason, but also a rabbit

Would probably get away with murder if we’re being honest

Is not a natural blonde

Two faced. Like seriously, don’t get on this bitch’s bad side. She’ll destroy you

#kakegurui #kakegurui headcanons #midari ikishima #Yuriko Nishinotouin #runa yomozuki #midari x yuriko #yuridari #kirasaya #These headcanons are becoming more and more crackish #I rly wanna make one more of these

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reidgraygubler · 3 years

Text

take care (lesley smith-juniment/gender-neutral!reader)

Title: take care Requested: no Couple: lesley smith-juniment/gender-neutral!reader Category: fluff Content Warning: drinking, drunken shenanigans, there was only one bed trope, reader throws up, talks about sex (but it doesn’t happen, just talked about) Word Count: 2641 Summary: Lesley takes care of reader after they had too much to drink A/N: this was written for @imagining-in-the-margins only one bed challenge! This is the first time i’ve written lesley, so bear with me! I appreciate you <3 i really hope you guys enjoy this :D check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

I should have realized how much I had to drink the night before. My head was absolutely pounding and my whole body was killing me. I hardly remember what I did last night. It was just one shot of tequila too many, and then everything was gone.

Damn tequila… And damn my friends for buying shots. At least I wasn’t too much of an embarrassment. Or at least I thought. Drunk me is very, very different than sober me. Drunk me was the life of the party, sober me was not.

I wish I could remember what I did the night before. Lesley was there, and Summer was there. And… Summer’s finance joined, too... I do, however, remember Lesy trying to stop me from drinking but… He’s not my babysitter.

Or… Was he?

My body instantly popped up as I realized I wasn’t in my own room. It was a hotel room, but it wasn’t mine. It was… It was Lesley’s. His boots and clothing neatly set to the side easily told me it was his room.

But it was also him asleep beside me that told me it was his room. Lesley was on the total edge of the bed, on top of the sheets, and his back facing me. I knew he’s never slept in the same bed as another person before, but the least he could have done was act like it was fine.

I tumbled out of the bed, nearly falling to the floor. It was quite the surprise when I realized I was wearing just a shirt (which belonged to Lesley) and underwear. No wonder he was on top of the sheets, and on the extreme edge of the bed.

“Fuck,” I whispered as I searched the room for my clothes. My shirt and pants were thrown around, and my shoes were hiding under the bed. I hope nothing bad happened last night. And by bad I mean I didn’t actually say or do anything… inappropriate.

“Are you okay?” Lesley asked after a moment of silence. I looked over at him with a raised eyebrow. “I just… I heard you fall off the bed, and I’m sure you have a killer hangover. You had like… A whole bottle of tequila with Summer,” he nervously chuckled as he looked at me. I looked back at him with wide eyes.

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay. Headache would be correct,” I nervously laughed as I lifted a hand to hold my head. “I was just about to go find… Bacon! Bacon and grease and water and… Yeah, it helps hangovers.” I looked down at the ground.

“It’s probably too late for shitty continental breakfast, right?” Lesley asked as he slipped out of the bed. I stared at him for a moment.

“Probably… I was just going to go to the Denny’s down the street,” I muttered as I gestured in the vague direction of the breakfast restaurant.

“Can I… go with?”

“Yeah, of course you can, Les,” I answered with a smile. Although my smile felt disingenuous. Maybe that’s what I meant. I still don’t know who I was last night, I could have done anything…

Our journey to the Denny’s was pretty silent. I must have been real bad last night if Lesley didn't say anything. It wasn’t till I had my coffee and breakfast sitting in front of me that I said anything.

“Can… Can you tell me what exactly happened last night?” I asked, as I dumped the two sugar packets into my coffee. Lesley looked at me with a raised brow. “Like you said… Whole bottle of tequila,” I chuckled.

And then he told me… {***}{***}{***}

Drinks… That was exactly what I needed. Work sucked, home sucked, life sucked, everything sucked. So I needed drinks, because drinking fixes everything. I shouldn’t say that. That’s not true, but drinking can fix a lot.

Summer and her fiance had invited Lesley out for drinks. Which in turn, Lesley asked me to join them. I couldn’t say no to Lesley. To be honest, I wouldn’t have gone had Lesley not invited me. Sure, Summer is one of my greatest friends. But I hated her fiance, Bradley… I wasn’t the only one who hated him though. Lesley hated him just as much, if not more. We had our different reasonings though. I hated him simply because he was a dick, and Summer was amazing.

It was hard to say just how many actual drinks I had, and I lost count of how many shots were consumed. But the majority were done between me and Summer. We were both so far gone, but we were having fun. So who cares?

To answer my own question, Lesley. Lesley cared because he’s my best friend. Of course he’d care. He cared about our safety more than Bradley did. Bradley was too busy drinking himself to notice Summer or me.

I think I was just drinking so excessively to get his attention, too. He was so busy pining over Summer that he didn’t realize I was right in front of him. My plan did work, though. I had most certainly gotten his attention as I stumbled up to the bar and ordered another round of shots for Summer and I. Summer was somewhere, dancing with a bunch of strangers while I did this. She was the one who said get more shots.

“Hey Pal… Are-Are you okay?” Lesley asked as he appeared by my side. I lowered my margarita glass to the counter as I looked at him. I hated the way that he looked motion blurred as I stared at him. The world around him was moving a touch too fast for me to pay attention to him.

“I-I’m fucking great, Les! Fucking awesome!” My words came out like a slurred mess. There was no apparent lie in my words. I felt awesome. It was the tequila talking. “I think… I think it’s time for another shot! You want one?!” I shouted as I turned back to face the bar.

“No, no! I don’t want one. I think we should go. Get you back to the hotel so you can-”

“You want to leave!? Lesley! Tonight’s the night, Dude! We can’t leave! What if we died tomorrow?!” I shouted as I turned back to him. My hands found their way to his shoulders and I looked at him. “We can’t leave now!”

“I think we should,” Lesley retorted as he grabbed my arms. I stared at him before looking over at my drink. I grabbed it and drank the rest of it in one go.

“Okay now we can go.” I looked back at him. Lesley stared at me with a worried crease between his brows, causing me to smirk. I was too far gone, and he knew that. I was about to make his life a hell, and I couldn’t help it. That’s how it was when I was drunk, though. He played the concerned friend (but he’s always concerned), and I was the drunken toddler.

“Alright, c’mon,” he mumbled as he wrapped his arm around my waist. I stumbled away from the bar counter. I was thankful that Lesley kept his arm around me because I was sure to fall without him. He was always there to pick me up whenever I fell.

Maybe that’s why I liked Lesley so much. And not just as a friend. He cared about me in ways other people haven’t ever cared for me. Sure, Summer cared about me… But she’s not the one making sure I get back to the hotel safely.

“We’re not gonna say bye to Summer and Bradley?” I asked as Lesley brought us towards the exit of the bar. I looked over my shoulder to see Summer still dancing away with the strangers while Bradley flirted with other women at the bar.

“I told Bradley we were leaving,” Lesley muttered once we were finally outside. I took a deep breath of the fresh and cool air. It was so vastly different from the muggy air inside the bar.

“But I wanna say bye to Summer!” I exclaimed as Lesley took the lead towards the hotel. It was already too late because I had said that when we were blocks away from the bar.

“You can tell her where we went in the morning when you see her,” Lesley looked down at me. I sighed and rolled my eyes. Again, Lesley cared about me and I was grateful for that. I probably wouldn’t have ended up at the hotel if he didn’t take me now.

As I stumbled down the sidewalk, with Lesley’s arm around me, I rambled about everything, while at the same time nothing. Random things that didn’t matter, or silly things that crossed my mind. I didn’t even notice when Lesley just replied with the same three responses: ‘mhmm’, ‘oh really?’, ‘that’s funny’. I’m sure he had given up on holding a conversation with me. I’d do the same thing.

Somewhere between halfway and almost at the hotel, I forgot where we were going. But I was too afraid to ask him till we were inside the hotel lobby, waiting for the elevator.

“Where are we?” I murmured as I hung off Lesley’s shoulder. He looked down at me before looking back at the elevator doors.

“The hotel…”

“Are we going to your room?” I giggled as I threw my arms around his neck.

“I-Uh…”

“PUH-lease?” I begged as he took a step forward. A squeal came from me as he began dragging me towards the elevator.

“Okay! Okay! We can go to my room. I can sleep on the floor, or the armchair.” “Yay!” I jumped off his body and clapped my hands together. Lesley laughed nervously as he helped me into the elevator. “But… But why do you have to sleep on the floor or the armchair?”

“B-Because!” He shouted as he pressed the button to his floor. I squinted as I looked at him. “I shouldn’t have to have a reason.”

“Wait… Wait… Lesley, have you… Have you ever shared a bed with someone?” I looked up at him before batting my eyelashes. Lesley’s body stiffened as he looked at the scratchy silver elevator doors. I smiled as I threw my arms around his middle. “Am I taking your bed sharing ver-ginny-titty?”

“No, you’re not. I’ve shared beds with my moms.”

“That doesn’t count, Lessy. You know that,” I looked up at him with a smile. “I thought you’ve had sex before!?” I shouted as the elevator doors slid open. Two older women were standing on the other side. They heard me yell something about sex.

“Stop… Talking,” Lesley said in a harsh whisper as he looked at me.

“But! How have you never shared a bed with someone if you’ve had sex before!?” I continued to shout as Lesley pulled me off the elevator.

“Have a nice night,” he said as he looked at the older ladies. I looked at them and waved as he dragged me down the hall. “I have had sex. But…” Lesley stopped talking as he began looking for the room key. I stared at him, waiting for the rest of his answer. “I haven’t slept in the same bed as someone,” he finally finished once the key card was in his hand.

“H-How do you-”

“It just happened.”

Lesley looked at me as he unlocked the door. I smiled as he pulled me into the room. If he wasn’t holding onto me, I would have stumbled into the room and fell right to the floor. But since he was holding me, he caught me and held me upright. I looked over at him with a smile.

“So I am taking your bed sharing ver-ginny-titty,” I cackled before stumbling away from him. Lesley watched me as I approached this single queen bed. The bedding was still perfectly made, no sign of human life was seen in this room. Give or take the small suitcase sitting by the desk and a few toiletries in the bathroom.

That was until I was sitting on the bed… throwing up on the floor and my feet. Once the contents of my stomach made its home on the floor, I fell back and groaned.

“I’m so sorry, Lesley. I frew up.” I threw a hand over my face once I realized what had just happened. I could feel Lesley’s anger from my spot on the bed.

“It’s okay. I’m gonna… I’ll clean it up.” His voice was soft as he spoke. I knew he was mad, but to be fair, if someone had thrown up in my hotel room I’d be pissed, too.

I stayed quiet as Lesley worked on cleaning up the mess. Part of me wished I could do something to help, but I’d probably make it a bigger mess than it already is.

Once he was done cleaning, he sat on the opposite end of the bed and looked over at me.

“Can you go to sleep?”

“I don’t know. Can you go to sleep, Wes-wee?” I looked up at him as I readjusted so I was in the bed properly. He looked at me with an obvious tired expression in his eyes. I looked away from him before going under the covers. “Yeah, I can go to sleep,” I whispered as I shifted closer to him. “I love you, Lesley,” I sighed deeply into his chest before passing out.

{***}{***}{***}

“Oh my god, I’m never drinking again.” I pressed both my hands to my face and let out a deep, resigned sigh. Lesley nervously laughed, causing me to look up at him.

“Do you really like me though?” he asked before taking another bite from his pancakes. I froze, my fork stabbed in a pancake. The syrup oozed out of the sides as if it was blood. It was unfortunate that I was probably not going to finish my food. I was really looking forward to pancakes, too.

“I like you a lot more than you think, Lesley,” I nervously laughed again before looking down at my coffee. It was mostly gone anyway, and I wished I had more. “And have since I started working for you.”

“Oh…” He looked back down at his coffee cup. I looked between him and my mostly empty cup, feeling my heart race. “Really?” he asked, searching for confirmation. I swallowed roughly before nodding lightly.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“Uh, well, you’re sort of my boss,” I breathed out a laugh before shaking my head. “Little bad when it comes to serious things and don't want to lose this job or you… But I guess because I was fucking drunk last night and told you everything, I don’t care that much,” I rambled and rolled my eyes. I lifted my mug to my lips, only to be disappointed by cold coffee, which consisted mostly of grounds.

“You didn’t want to take a risk?” “Considering I was the first person you ever shared a bed with, Lesley, you shouldn’t preach to the choir.” I glanced at him. Lesley lifted his hands in defeat. I laughed lightly and shrugged. “Like I said, I didn’t want to lose you. So I didn’t want to take that risk.”

“You want to know what would have happened if you had taken that risk?”

“I think about all the outcomes… Mostly the bad because that always happens to me,” I laughed again.

“I would have told you I loved you too,” Lesley said as he reached across the table. I looked down at my hands just as his clasped over mine. I stared at them for a moment before looking up at him.

“Really?” I asked for confirmation.

“Yeah.”

{***}{***}{***}

if you have any comments about this one-shot, let me know here i'd love to hear what you thought!

#shadow writes stuff #shadow posts stuff #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler oneshot

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lord-explosion-baku · 4 years

Text

Lying Is A Formal Pleasure

Yandere!Hawks x Pro Hero!Reader

Forced into a “relationship” to better your image, you agonize through the night as you pretend to be head over you heels in love with a douchebag.

warnings: non consensual touching, light violence

A/N: I posted this a few months ago, but after a bad mental health night, I deleted it like a day later. But now I’m screaming over my oneshot inactivity and the 80 WIPs that remain unfinished, so I figured I’d post something that’s done fhjfv. :’D

Blinking flashbulbs and whispering onlookers flood your audio and visual spaces, forcing you to pause while you take a moment to gather yourself, swaying uneasily in the too-high heels you’ve been forced into. You’re close to being overwhelmed when Hawks places a smooth hand on the small of your exposed back, ushering you closer to his side. He waves to a camera flickering with a red dot, the one that tells the two of you that you’re live on air. The warm impression of his fingers on your skin offers you an insincere sense of security. You’re not as used to being on screen as your ‘lover,’ so you let him take the lead. It’s easier this way, as resentful as you are to admit it.

A thin woman in a red dress holds a microphone up between the two of you and asks if the happy couple has high hopes in regards to their award nominations. Hawks, always quick to flash a charming grin, leans into the mic and says, “we’re both just very honored to be here.”

It’s not like him to be so humble, especially not when he has an audience, but your publicist recently advised you that although his pride is fitting for his singular image, nobody quite likes a power couple who, in her words, “thinks they’re the shit.” People want to see bashful, blossoming love. They want to see you be together, grow together, and develop together. You have to be shy—show that you’re excited to be by his side, and he has to be supportive—happy to introduce you to the sensational side of being a hero. It’s all a facade, even your relationship, but if you stay true to your new role, your popularity will see a serious incline.

Hawks runs his hand up your spine and you get a chill when you realize that the reporter asked you a question: how long have the two of you been together?

“Oh-” you start, shifting to look up at your partner. Amber eyes bare down on you and you swallow dryly, trusting that you look enchanted, rather than sick to your stomach. If you were to be honest with her, you’d say, ‘too long,’ but it’s not your job to be honest tonight. You have to be delightful and charming, cute and coy. So instead, you timidly blink up at Hawks, cover your shy grin with your elegantly gloved hand while leaning into him, and say, “nearly two months.”

The number two hero chuckles, moving his hand over to your side to squeeze it a little harder than necessary. He’s telling you one thing: wrong answer.

“Well, she says two months, while I say three.” Hawks is all confidence and little to no self-doubt. In a way, he’s everything you want to be, and every time you think about it in that light, the more you seem to detest him. You hate that you virtually need him in this respect to get you where you want to be in your career. You hate that he’s living this farce up. “It took my little angel a while to finally agree to go on a date with me. Even then, I knew that we were meant to be together.” His eyes slide back to you, and his tone takes a dark edge that nobody besides you will be able to pick up on. “From the very first moment I laid my eyes on her.”

It’s not entirely a lie. Hawks had barrated you to go out with him for about a month before your publicist told you it would be good for your public image to have a pro—the number two pro—by your side. Apparently, you and him work well because of your quirk: siren. Her reasoning is that you sing just like birds sing. Hawks is a bird. Therefore, you and him should go hand-in-hand. The public aptly named your relationship birdsong and you’ve already done a photoshoot where you had to pose behind a golden birdcage where Hawks sat inside, gripping onto the cage’s bars, staring up at you while you had your lips pursed subtly, pantamiming a song. The irony of your situation is that there is a metaphorical prison in your fake relationship, but it’s not Hawks who sits in the cage. The second irony of your situation is that hawks don’t sing at all; they prey.

“Awwww,” the reporter whines in a shrill, albeit melodramatic voice, looking adoringly from you to Hawks, “I couldn’t imagine how anybody could ever say no to you! That must’ve put a damper on your ego! Poor thing.”

Hawks shrugs like he does—another thing you despise. You can smell the smugness wafting off his chest that seems to puff up as he speaks. “I knew she was just playing hard to get.” He winks at you, sliding his hand down to sit not so obediently at your hip. You feel him drifting towards your ass cheek, and you struggle to not change your fraudulent smile into a full on sneer. “And she knew I liked the challenge.”

The reporter’s eyes aren’t even on you when she asks, “really, how could you say no to this dreamboat? I certainly wouldn’t be able to!”

If you want him, you can take him, you think tartly as you maneuver your arm around Hawks. He makes a sort of low, sort of grunting noise when you lace your fingers through his heavy feathers, and you realize that this might be the first time you’ve actually touched his wings. You’re bitter to admit that the feel of them in your hands are soft to the touch—enjoyable, almost. They might be the most redeeming thing about him.

You tighten your hand into a fist and tug, softly at first, but when you feel him tense next to you, you pull a little tighter, enjoying the brief sadism break you allow yourself.

“I must have been too darn shy at first!” Your words are syrup dribbling over glass. You wrench your hand, twisting into Hawks’ wings. He clears his throat in an attempt to cover up a groan, his hold on your side worsening infinitesimally. “Or maybe I just couldn’t believe that the number two hero was actually interested in me. Honestly? I was starstruck! I thought I was being used for some kind of joke!”

“Hah…” Hawks’ thumb rubs circles in your back when you guide your hand along the stream of his wings and grab at a different bunch of feathers. He whispers, “take it easy, chickadee…’

But you don’t want to take it easy. Hawks’ cheeks redden a bit more every time you move your fingers through his wings. He must be incredibly uncomfortable and you take pride in the fact that, for once, it’s not you who’s suffering. You lean into his shoulder, offer the reporter woman a smile so sickly sweet, you can practically feel sugar coating your gums when you say, “now every day I get to spend with him is a dream come true!!”

One of Hawks’ eyes twitches when you give the tuft of feathers in your hold a final twist. He spreads his palms wide on your back, and slowly curls his fingers inward, pulling on your skin.

After a few more questions, the reporter notices Hawks glancing down to the large hall being used as the ceremony venue, and thanks the both of you for indulging the public with information about your relationship. Sending a final wink to the camera, Hawks guides you through arched doors and nods at a few other well-known heroes attending the ceremony. You sneak away when you think Hawks is about to get lost in another conversation, but when you slip into an empty lounge reserved for award nominees, he’s right on your heels.

Ignoring his presence completely, you fix yourself a drink at an unattended minibar. You swirl the ice around in your glass and finally turn to scowl at your partner. He looks off, or not very present, still smirking, but dazed. Maybe he tied his tie too tightly, and he’s blocking the blood flow to his brain. You grin at the thought of choking him out while you sip on your beverage. Hawks grins back.

Engulfing and consuming the space around you, he takes a confident step towards you. You feel nothing short of a shadow to a tree with his wings puffed out and spread proudly like they are.

“Nervous?” He asks, placing a hand on the bar as he leans closer to you. You give him a half-hearted shrug, trying to be nonchalant. Even if Hawks knows you're uncomfortable, you aren’t willing to show him an inch of fear.

“You shouldn’t be,” he goes on, staring at your lips. He watches you suck down your drink and clears his throat. “You were great out there.”

“Believable?” You ask sarcastically, licking your bottom lip. You reach out to stroke the inside of his wings, running your hands along his feathers teasingly slow, enjoying the sight of each row of his crimson plume twitch down along with your touch.

“Believable,” he chuckles. “I had no idea that I was your dream come true.”

You scoff and place your empty glass down. “Mhm, my everlasting, waking nightmare.” You bring your arm back to your hip. “I’m truthful when I can be.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up into a goofy half-grin. It’s off-putting. He isn’t any less sharp than usual, but there’s something about him right now that has goosebumps raising on your arms.

“C’mere,” he coaxes, grabbing your wrist. You snap it back immediately.

“Oh, please.” You push past him, intentionally brushing into his wings, and begin strutting away.

“You’re such a goddamn tease,” he rasps, hooking you sideways. Both of his hands curl around your hips, and you’re immediately pulled back against him. “Have I ever told you how sexy your back is?”

“Get off of me,” you say without enthusiasm, because it’s not the first time he’s gotten handsy with you in closed spaces. Call yourself jaded, but it’s something that you’re semi-used to. So, when he doesn’t let up, all you can do is roll your eyes and fetch your compact mirror out of your clutch. While you fix your lips, Hawks lays his chin on your shoulder. His eyes find yours, and though they’re looking straight at you, they are, at once, incredibly ambiguous and eerily hyperfocused. He squeezes his arms around your torso, then brushes his lips across your cheek. Against your stubborn will, your stomach flips when he plants kisses on your jaw and trails down to your neck. The scruff of his beard tickles your skin, making your shift around in his embrace. That's when you feel a stiffening behind you.

“Hawks, what the hell are you doing?”

“Shame on you-“ his breath is hot on your ear- “touching me like that on camera, baby? Who knew my angel could be so naughty…”

You jerk your elbow back into his gut.

“I never touched you,” you seethe, ready to actually throw hands, when he rushes you forward, pushing you against the bar so that you’re lodged between it and him. Hot blood floods your face when you feel him pulse against your ass, and it doesn’t help when he snakes a hand through the back opening of your dress, sliding around to cup your stomach. He pulls you back so his bulge rubs between your cheeks.

“You’re seriously crossing the line right now!” You push against the bar, trying to bump him back, but he crowds you with his wings, shrouding you just like the metaphorical birdcage you’ve been stuck in for two—three months. You grasp a fistful of his feathers and yank on them hard, but he only snickers in response.

“Oh, little dove,” he groans, rocking his pelvis against your ass. It’s like he doesn’t even hear your protests. “Fuck. How’d you know I like it rough?” He kisses the hollow of your throat and hums appreciatively when you reluctantly shudder in response. “You have no idea how badly I wanna slip my cock into you right now. Finally wipe that sour look off your face as I drive myself in, inch by inch.” His fingers move down to pet your pubic bone. You want to scream in defiance when you feel a flash of liquid heat pool between your thighs. He dips in between your folds and he croons. “Bet you’d hug me nice and tight too. You don’t spread your legs for just anybody, do you babygirl?”

“Certainly not for you,” you rebuke. You grasp your abandoned glass, smash it against the bar, and spin yourself around, swiping your makeshift weapon across the number two hero’s face.

There’s a moment of shocked silence that falls between you two. A streak of red falls from the cut on Hawks’ cheeks and falls in spots on the whites in between his tuxedo coat. He dabs at the wound and examines the blood on his fingers, then his chest.

He snickers.

“Oh man, I wonder what they’ll think about this.” He shakes his head, grinning. “What do I tell ‘em: we were getting a little too frisky in the lounge, or do I lie and say it was an accident?”

“You can tell whoever, whatever you want,” you mumble. You know you should apologize for the sanctity of your status, but seeing his blood is cathartic to you, in a way. At least, until he speaks again.

With a clever fox smile, smug as the king of hell, Hawks drawls out, “the rising hero, Siren, is unstable and shouldn’t be trusted by the public.”

Your eyebrows pinch together. Hawks’ grin crawls wider, contented by your reaction to his threat.

“I was telling her not to get her hopes up about the awards ceremony. ‘There are a lot of other promising heroes gunning for The Best New Hero award,’ is what I told her, and she lost it…”

“Hawks—“

“She came at me with a glass she broke on the bar. Honestly, I’ve been worried about her drinking habits since day one, but I didn’t do enough to help her with the issue. In a way, it’s my fault this happened.”

“It is your fault!” You stomp your heel and throw an accusatory finger into his chest. “You attacked me!”

“Who do you think they’ll believe, sweetheart?” Hawks takes your hand in his, brings the back of your wrist up to his mouth, and kisses it. “The new hero with a pretty face, pretty voice, but is otherwise unknown, or me? Hero numero dos: Japan’s most trusted.”

You glare at him and he loves it. He enjoys every minute he puts you through mental turmoil.

“I could tell them it was an accident,” he sings, looping an arm around your waist to briskly pull flush up against him. You let him, but keep your head turned so you don’t meet his gaze. He continues—“but you’d have to make it up to me, little dove.”

His wings fall over you, shrouding you closer to him. He presses his lips to your temple, but doesn’t kiss you—doesn’t even speak again. He’s waiting for you to ask how.

“I’m not going to sleep with you,” you say into his shoulder.

“You don’t have to,” he hums, the vibration of his voice buzzing down your neck, “we can just end your career tonight.”

“Hawks.”

“Don’t act like you’re not soaking wet right now. I felt that cunt, babe. Turns out, I’m not the only one who likes it rough.” He turns your head to face him. “You want me-“ he sneers-“and I didn’t even have to stroke your feathers to get you there.”

You close your eyes when his lips greet yours. The kiss is quick, but it lingers like old faith. If you let him in, he’ll stay there. You know that. But he’s backed you into a corner.

“You’re my girl,” he coos, “and I wanna be civil—I do, baby. You know I only want what’s best for us. But you’re gonna have to meet me halfway in order to get us where we need to be. Do you understand?”

Us...we…He throws those words around as if they matter. Then again, they do matter. They must, to him at least, but not to you. The only thing you really care about is me. Still, you nod.

“I’m gonna need you to say it, Siren.”

You sigh. “Yes, Hawks. I understand.”

“Good!” He chirps enthusiastically, any dark tone he previously took vanished. He spins you around to face the door that leads back to the hall. At first, you think he’s going to continue where he left off, but his hand finds its place at the small of your back, and he guides you forward.

“Now, let's go win us some awards,” Hawks says, bringing his hand down to pat your ass, “then we can make sure both of our dreams come true.”

#yandere bnha #yandere!Hawks #yandere!hawks x reader #tw yandere #bnha x reader #bnha reader insert #reader insert #hawks x reader #yandere male

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forever-rogue · 4 years

Text

Afterglow - Part 5

A/N: Thank you guys for the support on the last part, and your mutual hatred of Ch*d. He really is the worst...As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx 💕

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Reader

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: None

AFTERGLOW MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

We’ll always be together.

Everything will work out like it was supposed to.

We’re going to go away to California and we’ll start our new lives there.

Nothing will ever tear us apart.

We’ll get away from this town and they’ll never see us again.

I love you.

“Hello? Hello…” you were barely aware of the hand waving in front of your face as you stared out of the large window, watching the late night traffic of the city. You shook your head as you snapped back into reality and found Chad staring at you with an annoyed expression on his face. You set your fork down and pushed your plate away, having lost your appetite some time ago and growing tired of going through the motions of eating. Chad sighed heavily, grabbing the fine linen napkin off of his lap and tossing onto the table, “what’s going on with you lately, sugar plum?”

“Nothing,” you cringed at the nickname but tried to keep your face a true mask of neutrality as you pushed the memories of your youth with Frankie to the back of your mind. You don’t remember exactly when you’d zoned out during the conversation, but a teenage Frankie, one that had promised you the world as you laid in the back of his old beat up pickup and stargazed had occupied all of your thoughts. You sat back in your chair and sighed, dismissively crossing your arms over your chest, “it’s just been a long day and I’m tired…”

“You seem to be having a lot of days like that lately,” he shrugged with a sour expression as he reached for his glass of wine and drained the rest of the dark red liquid in one go. You didn’t want to fight, not again, as you seemed to be doing every day lately, but you also weren’t about to let yourself get walked all over.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you scoffed at him, flagging down a waiter and silently asking for the check.

“You’ve been spacey, you’re always claiming to be tired, forgetting appointments, and you don’t seem to want to do anything with wedding planning,” he huffed at you. You were willing to coincide that much - he was right on the money. You’d been preoccupied with thoughts of your youth, your past that you’d thought you’d buried well enough, but had let them back in. They had become all consuming...and frankly, planning a wedding you were constantly arguing about wasn’t something that seemed particularly appealing, “what’s going on with you? Are you...are you pregnant?”

You almost spit out the water you had been drinking, your mind quickly running a million miles an hour at the question. You weren’t….surely you weren’t. No, luckily you’d had your period about three weeks prior and it’d been even longer than that since you’d last sex. It wasn’t exactly a thrilling time lately. Just before you could open your mouth to say anything else and reassure him that you most definitely were not pregnant, he blathered on, “you can’t get pregnant before the wedding...you know how bad that would make us look? It’s only two more months, after that we can try and get it out of the way. But not before.”

You snorted, grabbing the little bit of wine you had left over and downed it, to prove your point that you weren’t pregnant. Get it out of the way, you could have laughed at the statement if it hadn’t been so shocking. You never thought you’d have had a child with a man who thought it was just something to get out of the way. Maybe you’d get lucky and never have a child with him...it would spare both of you.

“I’m not pregnant,” you hissed at him, “and don’t worry, at the rate we’re having sex, I’ll never get pregnant anyways.”

“You can’t,” he lowered his voice and looked around to make sure no one had heard him, “you can’t just go around saying things like that!”

“What?” you asked as the waiter came over with the check. You took it and thanked him with a smile as sweet as honey, not even bothering to check the tab as you tossed one of your cards into the sleeve and set it back down. Chad normally always insisted that he pay, stuck in his old school thought process that men should be taking care of their wives and girlfriends, not the other way around, “I shouldn’t be saying the truth?”

“I’m not going to fight about this,” he insisted sharply, his eyes filled with nothing but malice, but his outward expression suggesting he was happy and content, “look, we have a lot to do before the wedding, and after tomorrow I’m going to be gone for three weeks-”

“For work,” you finished forward, trying to read his face to see if you could detect even the slightest flicker that he hadn’t been honest with you. He was a lot of things you weren’t a fan of, but you didn’t think he would ever cheat on you. If nothing else, the fear of getting caught and having his personal life and image blow up in his face was even to deter him.

Sometimes though, as you laid next to him at night, unable to sleep, you wondered if he truly loved you, or he just liked the pretty picture you presented, and the name that you carried. You loved him, truly you had, at one point anyway, but now you were questioning if you still did. Rather, you loved him, and you never would wish him ill, he wasn’t a bad man in that sense, but were you in love with him? That was the question that you had been struggling with. You often wondered if you were just going through the motions to go through them, to mold yourself into the image that everyone had of you. Were you truly happy? You weren’t even sure anymore.

“Yes, for work,” he agreed, keeping his face calm. You often considered yourself a fair judge of character and you didn’t detect anything that suggested he was lying, “and there are a lot of things that need to be done and finalized while I’m gone for the wedding. How can I trust you to do that when you can’t even remember dinner with our families?”

“I’ve got everything in my calendar, with alarms and reminders,” you promised, “it’ll all be taken care of.”

“Including your dress fitting,” he reminded you, “that’s the most important thing. We can’t have you going down the aisle in an ill fitting dress.”

“It will all be done and taken care of,” you promised quietly, “there’s nothing to worry about. Whatever’s going on with me, I’ll pull myself out of it.”

“Good,” he responded, offering you the first smile you had seen that evening, “I just want everything to be perfect on our day.”

“Of course,” you signed the receipt that was dropped off, making sure to leave a generous tip, before sliding your card back in your purse. Chad stood up and waited for you, and the smallest bit of joy that had been sparked always started to disappear already. Autopilot was on and you were once again going through the motions.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“When’s the big day? You are going to make the most stunning bride,” the young girl that was assisting your dressmaker was looking at you with the softest, most awed expression you had ever seen. You couldn’t help but smile at her, remembering that when you were young you had always dreamed of a day like this. You turned back and studied your reflection in the large, golden and gilded mirror, admiring the dress. It was a beautiful gown, made just for you, of course, as no one would ever let you forget if you wore a predesigned stock dress.

“About two months,” you said softly, watching as Imelda, the woman who had dreamed up the dress from scratch after first meeting you, came back with a veil. The veil itself was just as gorgeous as the dress, also created by hand, stitch by grueling stitch. You stepped down from the small pedestal and let her place it on the crown of your head as you blended magnificently with the dress.

“A fall wedding,” she sighed dreamily, “if I ever meet the one and get married, that’s what I’d want too. I think it’s the perfect time of the year, and so romantic.”

“It’s...it’s something,” you found yourself at a loss for words as you turned back to your reflection, finding the look complete with the headpiece. Every single inch was stunning, highlighting all your favorite parts of yourself. It was a dress borne of love, and made you look more like a princess than a woman who wasn’t even sure anymore if she wanted to get married. Every day that had passed since Chad had left for his work trip about two weeks ago had been agonizing as you tried to figure out what you really wanted. Did you really want to get married to him?

“I bet it will be so magical,” the young girl sighed wistfully. It took you back for a moment how much she reminded you of yourself, “how did your fiancé propose? Your ring is gorgeous too. I bet you’re both so beautiful together!”

"He's a very handsome man," you admitted, knowing that most women would fall to their knees for a chance at a man like Chad. He wasn't the type that you had been drawn to when you were younger, but he was still easy on the eyes. He had that soft, typical all American boy sort of look to him, tall, lithe with the blonde hair and blue eyes that women often found so dreamy. It just wasn't...what you had envisioned when you were younger, "and smart, he's an attorney, and just...yeah. A good man."

For the right person he might even have been perfect. You wondered how things would be different if you were the perfect match for him.

"You'll have gorgeous babies," the girl brought forth a tray of jewelry for you to examine and pick through to find the perfect match for your dress. Imelda softly tutted at the girl, suggesting a pair of brilliant diamond earrings for you to try.

"Maybe," you decided to dodge that bullet and grabbed the studs, popping them into your ears to see how they went with the dress and veil.

"But the proposal - what was it like? I bet it was so dreamy..."

"It was simple," you admitted. It was simple compared to others you had witnessed, but still more over the top than you had needed or had desired. He'd waited until you were at an outing that you swore consisted of everyone you had ever known. There was no doubt in your mind that he had done it to make himself look good and show off the huge ring that now sat on your hand. It was almost too big for your taste and you'd often thought about trying to get something more subtle. But you hadn't wanted to argue over it, so you just accepted it, "it was at a dinner with our family and friends. A little lowkey, but he did it over champagne and dessert."

"That's perfect," she sighed wistfully, "I hope that if I ever get engaged, my future girlfriend does something like that, or I can do if for her."

"I hope you too," you promised her with a fond smile, "you deserve the world too and the engagement and wedding you dream of."

"Hopefully I'll look as pretty as you," she smooth parts of your dress down as she looked you over, "hopefully Auntie Imelly will make me a dress just as pretty."

"You already know I've got everything planned for you," Imelda promised her niece, "you just have to wait until you find the perfect girl and the time is right. I want nothing but the best for you, and I won't see settling for just anyone."

"Never," the girl nodded at her aunt.

"But now," she turned back to you and held out a stunning tennis bracelet, "what about you? Do you like everything or should we make any more changes to the veil or dress?"

You took a long while to study the woman staring back at you in the mirror. She was beautiful, that much was easy to see, dressed in the most stunning wedding gown and jewelry. Everything about her was breathing taking, but there wasn't even a trace of a smile on her face, no light or life in her eyes.

"No," you whispered softly, running your fingers gently over the delicate lace of your the veil. You knew it must have taken Imelda hours and hours of hard work and care to make perfect it, "everything is stunning. This is...it's beautiful, every last stitch. Its an honor to be wearing this dress right now."

"Perfect," she beamed at you, "then we'll get it all put and stored safely until your big day. I'll of course bring it to that morning and make sure its perfect for you."

"But I can't...I can't take it," you said and the room grew so quiet you could hear a pin drop, "I can't accept this beautiful dress, this veil, any of it."

"What do you mean? I created this just for you..."

"I know," you said as you stated to peel off the jewelry and placed it show back in the soft, velvet case, "and I will pay you double what you originally quoted for it. I want you to keep it and give it to someone you deem worthy. Someone that desires to wear something so beautiful, someone that is marrying the love of their lives. I'll even pay for any future alterations, but I can't...I can't do this."

"What do you mean?" Imelda's face wen through a range of various emotions as she hastily helped you to pull off the veil.

"I can't get married," you stated, finally saying out loud the words that had been plaguing you for some time now. You couldn't do it. You weren't going to subject yourself to a marriage you didn't want with a man who wasn't the love of your life, "I'm not going through with this. I can't...no. I'll never be happy with if I do."

The young girl brought your clothes back for you as you started to strip off the dress, not caring in the slightest about any propriety anymore.

"Listen, sweet girl," you told her as she pulled the dress off of you, almost buckling under the sheer weight of it until you helped her, "never ever settle for anyone. Wait until the right person comes along...maybe it'll take ages, but you'll be happier. Don't make the mistake I almost did."

You pulled on your jeans and t-shirt, casual clothes that Chad would likely have abhorred, and turned back to Imelda, "I am so, so sorry to do this to you. All the hard work and time..."

"I'm just glad you kept yourself from making a huge mistake," she whispered as she pulled you into a hug, "that's the important thing of all. The dress will find the right home, and one day your heart will as well."

"Thank you," you said softly, feeling the wave of emotions that you'd been suppressing for so long wash over you. For a therapist, one who told her patients to express themselves however they needed to, you'd grown too comfortable with settling and being content, but not truly happy. Something was bound to break at some point and this just happened to be the straw they broke the camel's back.

"Thank you," you brushed away a few tears, finding more comfort in her touch and kind words than you had in anyone else in a long time, "truly, thank you. And please, send me the bill. Whatever you want, I'll pay it."

"Of course," she gently wiped your tears away, her niece giving you a small wave as you turned to leave the shop.

As soon as you stepped foot into the busy street, reality came crashing down on you like a ton of bricks. This was going to change everything, emotions would be all over the place, and dealing with two controlling families would be an ordeal within itself. But regardless, you felt lighter and happier than you had in a long, long time. Nothing else mattered right now. The only thing you were focused on was the little bit of light that had crawled back into your heart. It wasn't an easy decision to make, but you knew it was the best one - the right one. It had been a long, long time since you'd been able to say that about anything...

»»————-　♡　————-««

As soon as you stepped foot into your apartment, you threw off your coat, snatched your phone out of your purse and tossed it onto the floor. Quickly searching for Chad's contact, you paused for just a moment to let out a long breath before dialing his number.

You stormed into the bedroom and ducked into the closet, pulling out a suitcase while you listening and anticipated him picking up any moment. Your heart was beating like mad, threatening to burst out of your ribcage as you hastily tossed whatever clothes you into the large suitcase. It was a haphazard disaster, but you didn't care.

"Hello?" He finally answered after several long rings, sounding somewhere between surprised and annoyed, "what's wrong sugar plum?"

"I'm leaving," you blurted out before you could think about how to word anything or form a coherent sentence.

"What? Leaving where? What are you talking about?" he hissed under his breath, as you heard him walk to the door, shut it and work it, "what's going on?"

"I'm leaving you," you finished throwing the clothes that were easily accessible and jammed into the bathroom to grab your things from there, "I can't do this. I'm not marrying you, Chad. We're over."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he must have heard you frantically scurrying around, as his voice had a shake to it, "what on earth are you talking about? You're not thinking clearly!"

"No," you said firmly, "I'm thinking clearly for the first time in a long time. This has been something that I've been thinking about for a long time. Chad, you and I...we're not meant to be."

"You were supposed to finalize your wedding dress today," he hissed under his breath, clearly not realizing what you had said. Or if he had, he has pointedly chosen to ignore everything you were saying. Typical. And one of the prime reasons you were ready to be done with him and move on. You could couldn't imagine a lifetime of this - you'd never be happy again. You held the phone away from your ear for a moment and let out a long groan, "have you been drinking?"

"What?!" a look of annoyed disgust your features as you rolled your eyes at him, "no, of course I haven't. This is exactly what I mean, Chad. You just get so like...this and I'm tired of dealing with it. Are you even happy?"

"It doesn't matter if I'm happy," he huffed. Of course it didn't...that’s exactly why your relationship had been doomed for a long time. Status, money, image was everything to him. That had never been your wants and goals life - that was how you'd always been different from your family. You just wanted to be happy, nothing else mattered. That's why you had dreamed of moving to California and starting a life there with Frankie, "that's not what this is about."

"Of course it is," you insisted softly, "that's what...that's what matters in life, Chad. Life isn't about money and status and what others think of you. Its about being happy, love, being kind..."

"What are you on about? What kind of delusions have been put into your head?" his words were cruel and you couldn't deny the fact that they stung. This was everything you had rebelled against when you were younger, everything you never wanted to he. But here you were...someone you couldn't even stand, "your parents wouldn't stand to hear you talk like this."

"Yeah," you agreed quietly, "that's exactly why I need to do this. I never wanted to be like them...I don't want to be anything like this. I don't care about it. I just want to be with someone I love and to be happy."

"You're setting yourself up for failure-"

"Maybe so," you agreed quietly, "but that's a risk I'm willing to take. It's better to try than just to accept a life without happiness."

"Look," he sighed, deep, weary sound, and you could just picture him sitting there in frustration, "we can talk about all of this when I get back. Its a few more days...maybe you'll be thinking more clearly by then. Just make sure get your dress and have everything figured out. We can't afford to get behind."

"No," it was a firm, resolute statement. Part of you was shocked that he wasn't understanding or getting into his thick skull that you were being serious. Then again, part of you was not surprised.

"No?"

"You don't get it, Chad," you cradled your phone between your ear and shoulder before pulling off your over the top engagement ring and slamming it on the dresser, "when you come back, I won't be here. I'm not kidding, this isn't some sort of game. I'm done - we are done. I'm leaving and I'm not coming back."

"You can't just leave!" a little bit of panic had crept into his voice as he slowly came to the realization that you were serious - dead serious, "what are you going to do? Where will you go?"

"I can just leave and I will," you insisted, "this has been over for some time, Chad. We both know it. I'm taking my things and leaving everything else. The ring is on the dresser. The apartment is yours anyway, keep it. Keep it all. I don't want a thing. I’ll figure the rest out on my own.”

“If you walk out that door and if you’re not there when I get back, this is over forever,” it almost sounded like he was trying to give you an ultimatum, but it just caused you to laugh lightly. Everything about this situation was life changing - you were breaking away from your life’s charted trajectory, but it felt like the right thing to do. The girl you were when you were growing up would have when horrified to see what you had become. But she was slowly clawing her way out and coming back to life, just how she should have been, how she should have always been.

“That’s the plan, Chad,” you sighed softly. You weren’t sure if he was ever going to get, or if he would only understand when he realized that you weren’t there. Maybe he had to experience the full reality of everything before he accepted it. You sat down on the edge of the bed, realizing that this was the last time you’d ever be here, “look, I’m sorry for not doing this sooner or expressing how I felt. I-I’ve tried but you always shut me down. I know this changes everything for both of us, but it’s the right thing to do. You’re not a bad man, Chad, but you’re just not the one for me. I don’t wish you anything but happiness, truly, but it’s just not with me.”

“People will talk, no one will ever have you back-”

“Yeah, and I’m okay with that,” you admitted, “those people? They never cared about me, none of them care about anything but themselves. I’m okay without them in my life. The people that matter will stay and they won’t care.”

“Sugar plum-”

“Don’t,” you cringed at the nickname, “don’t call me that, I hate it. I’ve always told you I hate it...and yet you never listened. I should have known, I should have tried harder to let you know. We should have talked more - you should have listened and I should have tried harder. This mess could have been avoided a long time ago.”

“You’re a therapist and couldn’t figure this out,” he scoffed and you could tell he was trying to go for a low blow. He was mad so he was going to try and fight dirty, “must not be a very good one then. What do they even pay you for?”

“I didn’t think you’d resort to saying something like that,” you stood back up and finished stuffing things into your suitcase, making up your mind to try and leave as quickly as possible, “but you know, I am good at my job and I try and help people. Just because I don’t always take my own advice, doesn’t mean it’s wrong. See, that’s why we would have never worked out - you’re so quick to anger and we’re never once had a rational discussion when you get like this. I mean, this wedding, everything that’s when going on has been for you and what you think people want. I’m not...I can’t do this anymore. This isn’t who I am, it never used to be. I need to be the person I truly am again.”

“You are making a huge mistake,” his declaration was enough to make you laugh as he desperately tried to do anything to make you feel small and to stay. If you believed that you needed him maybe you would stay. The sad thing was that he wasn’t even so concerned about you, or the fact that he loved you, it was all about how this would look to other people. Pathetic.

“No,” you disagreed, “and even if I was, I guess I’ll learn my lesson the hard way. I’m okay with that. Listen...I’ll take care of cancelling everything for the wedding and telling my parents. You can tell everyone else, blame me, make yourself look good. I’ll have all the money refunded to you, I don’t care about it, I just don’t.”

“You’re really doing this, huh?” he laughed; it was a bitter, stunted sound. You finished throwing your clothes and few items from the bathroom into the suitcase and were in the process of zipping it shut. You already felt so much freer, so much lighter.

“I am,” you acknowledged, grabbing your things and heading for the door, “this is goodbye, Chad. If it means anything at all, I am sorry for how this came about, but I’m not sorry for doing it. This is the right thing to do….even if it doesn’t feel like it now. In the future you’ll realize it too.”

A few beats of silence passed between the two of you, and just when you thought he was going to say something, the sound cut out and the call ended. You groaned lightly as pulled the phone away from your ear, tapping the corner of it against your head a few times. After all this time, this was how things were going to end? You knew he’d be mad, but you didn’t think it would be like this…

Figuring that while you were already in the middle of dealing with everything and that lovely response you had might as well call your parents and get that over with at the same time. How much else could go wrong? If you were going to be disowned, than you might as well find out now. Scrolling through your contacts, you quickly found your parent’s house number, dialing and quietly wishing that neither of them would answer. Maybe they would be too busy running around -

“Hello?” your mother sounded cheerful as ever, and while you didn’t always see eye to eye with her on everything, you still cared deeply about her. You considered hanging up, but decided against it, figuring it was time to get this done and over with.

“Hi Mom,” you said softly as she grew excited to hear from you. She startled rattling on, not even letting you get a word in edgewise as she went on and on about your wedding, “Mom, stop.”

“What do you mean?” she asked suddenly, taken aback by your little sharp comment, “this is your wedding we’re talking about it, honey, it’s going to be here before you know it.”

“That’s the thing...that’s why I’m calling-”

“You got your dress finalized today, right? I can’t wait to see it, I know you wanted it to be a surprise for everyone, but I wished I could have been there…” you could tell she was getting emotional, but it caused a light pang in your heart. It was never going to change your mind, of course, but still gave you a moment of pause, “tell me, honey, do you love the dress?”

“There’s no...no dress,” your voice was soft as a gasp came from the other end, “because there’s not going to be a wedding.”

“W-what?” she asked, fumbling on some words as she tried to wrap her head around what you were saying. No wedding? Surely you must have been pulling her leg. Your wedding was the talk of the town, everyone knew about it…”what do you mean there’s not going to be a wedding? Of course there...it’s in two months…”

“No,” you repeated again, “there’s not. It’s not happening. I told Chad, I’m leaving, I can’t go through with this. I don’t love him, Mom, not like that. I cannot marry a man that I do not love.”

“You already told him? You’re going to call this whole thing off?” she was getting hysterical and you immediately regretted telling her. Well...she was going to find out one way or another...at least this way she was getting it directly from you, “just like that? What’s going on with you?”

“Yes, just like that...but honestly, it’s been a long time coming,” you dragged your suitcases to the door and took one last look around the place, giving it one last look over, “it’s...I wasn’t happy, not for a long time. And it’s my fault for not dealing with it sooner, but I couldn’t go through with this. I’m not going to subject myself and him for a life of unhappiness.”

“But what about-”

“None of that matters,” you promised, “I don’t care what anyone thinks. I just want to be happy and if I ever marry anyone, I want to be in love. Maybe that will never happen, but that’s better than a lifetime of going through the motions.”

“But Chad is...he’s perfect…” rolling your eyes, you tossed your eyes onto the counter and took off the apartment keys, laying them on the table for Chad, “the two of you…”

“Look great together? Would have 2.5 wonderful looking children? A dog with a big house and white picket fence?” you finished for her, “I know that’s what everyone says and thinks. But it’s so much more than that. Chad is not a bad man, and I know that, he’s good and he’ll be great for the right person, that person just isn’t me. I don’t care about anything else...I want to be happy, and right now, I know it will hurt him, but eventually he’ll be happy too.”

“Are you sure about this?” she sounded resigned already, knowing that it wasn’t worth it to argue with you. You always had a stubborn streak when you were young, and that had never changed.

“I am, Mom. I just...I want to be happy, truly happy, and if I had gone through with everything, it would never have happened,” you explained, “isn’t that important too? Does my happiness mean so little to everyone?”

“Your happiness is important, sweetheart,” she said softly. You could tell this was crushing her spirits and that no less than a million things were running through her mind, she always was the analytical type, stemming from her many years as an attorney. But at least she was trying; trying to understand your thoughts and respect them, even if it was hard for her, “are you positive that this is what you want?”

“I am,” you felt sure and confident in yourself as you headed for the door, propping it open and dragging your suitcases into the hallway, “this is the thing I’ve been more sure about lately than anything else.”

“Well,” she cleared her throat, “then that’s what matters. You do deserve happiness, my love. What are you going to do now?”

“I hadn’t really thought that far ahead,” you admitted, “I’ll figure that out as I go...which I guess is now.”

“Your father and I are here if you need us,” she promised, surprising in a way because you were sure that you would be subjected to her wrath, “we do love you, you know, despite how it may seem sometimes.”

“I know, “ you closed the door slowly, listening to it shut with a soft click, bringing about a bit of finality to the life you were leaving behind, “I appreciate that. Right now, I just need to figure a few things out.”

“Call us if you need anything,” she insisted, and you took a deep breath before nodding.

“I will,” you promised softly, ending the call and tossing your phone into your pocket. At least that was done. Now you just had to figure everything else out.

Everything else suddenly seemed unbelievably daunting. You’d gone through periods before where everything you had known fell completely apart. You’d gotten through it then and you would again.

You had been broken and forced to pick up each tiny piece of yourself before. You’d do again and again and again if you had to. At least this gave you a chance at happiness.

This was just the first page of a new chapter. You can do this, you kept repeating to yourself as you started to walk away, you can do this.

On the outskirts of town, in the small, quaint house he called home, Frankie startled awake, out of his midafternoon nap. He looked around to see what the cause for the sudden wake up was, but could find nothing. He sighed as he sat up and rubbed his tired eyes, his heart panging with an odd, pulling sensation.

He wasn’t quite sure what it was...but it was something.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #afterglow #triple frontier #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

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cactusnymph · 3 years

Text

Prompt fill #3 for @dimension20alphabet:

Cooking

“Are we really sure that this is necessary?”

“Don’t be such a baby about it!”

“I’m not being a baby, I just don’t see how this would ever be relevant to my life—“

“May I remind you that your dear mother tried to heat up a whole cantaloupe in a pan in an attempt to make it ‘pop’ when I went on a short vacation, Master Fabian?”, Cathilda interrupts Adaine’s and Fabian’s argument.

Fabian opens his mouth to speak, then shuts it again before crossing his arms over his chest. Cathilda regards him fondly and pats him on the shoulder.

“Master Fabian, there might as well come a time where you will have no one to take care of your food, so I have to agree with Mistress Adaine. A little bit of independence never hurt anyone”, she says and watches as Adaine smiles triumphantly.

“And I do not want to risk you or your mother hurting yourself over such a simple thing as a cantaloupe.”

“Okay, maybe the cantaloupe was a bit of a disaster, but I feel like we can put it aside now”, Fabian says only for Adaine to mouth “A whole cantaloupe. In a pan!” at him. Cathilda pretends that she doesn’t notice and steps closer to the kitchen counter.

“So, Master Fabian, are you ready for a new challenge?”, she asks with a smile and feels accomplished when she sees Fabian’s eyes spark. He’s still his father’s darling boy and backing down from a challenge was nothing that Bill ever did.

“Well. I guess. Let’s make some pasta.”

Adaine has requested to learn how to make pasta with red sauce and meatballs.

“Why the hell did you even want to learn cooking?”, Fabian asks Adaine while he’s trying very hard not to cry over an onion. Adaine stands next to him, carefully cutting tomatoes while Cathilda takes care of the garlic. Fabian looks like he’s trying to murder the onion, but aside from that he’s not doing a bad job.

“I talked to the others and all of them knew how to make at least one thing. Even Riz. And he mostly consumes coffee and cereal. Apparently him and Sklonda have this meatloaf they make for Riz’ birthday... Anyway. I thought about how it would be, living on my own. And then I got kind of scared that I’d just burn the whole house down. And it’s always nice to learn new things.”

She shrugs and looks a little embarrassed so Cathilda points to the heated up pan on the stove for Adaine to put the tomatoes in.

“Well, I don’t see why I wouldn’t have a maid doing these things for me—“

“Do you want me to bring up the cantaloupe again?”

“Oh, come on!”

“Master Fabian, can you hand me the sugar, please?”

Fabian blinks in confusion as he turns around to look at her.

“Sugar?”

“Yes, Master Fabian.”

“But it’s meatballs.”

“That is very right, Master Fabian, but there always needs to be a spoonful of sugar in everything you make with tomatoes.”

“That sounds... wild.”

“Well, there is quite a bit of acidity in tomatoes and to balance that out it’s good to put some sugar into it”, Cathilda explains patiently.

“Oh! It’s basically science!”, Adaine says and sounds excited.

“God, you’re such a nerd.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, as if you weren’t head over heels for—“

Fabian almost throws all of his cut onions onto the floor as he lunges himself at Adaine to put his hand over her mouth. Cathilda chuckles as Adaine wrinkles her nose as Fabian’s hand touches her face—most likely because it smells a lot like onions.

Cathilda pretends, very politely, to not pay any attention to the two of them as she stirs the tomatoes that have started losing a lot of water inside the pan.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about”, Fabian hisses and Adaine snorts against his palm.

“It’s quite alright, Master Fabian. I won’t tell anyone”, Cathilda offers kindly and she watches out of the corner of her eye how Fabian’s face turns a bright red as he pulls his hand away from Adaine’s mouth.

“I have no idea what you two are talking about”, he growls and goes back to hacking the onions. Cathilda gently takes the knife from him.

“Those look very nicely chopped, Master Fabian. Well done. We can start frying them with the garlic now”, Cathilda says to ease the tension. She watches the two of them form meatballs—Fabian seems to be under the impression that this is some kind of contest, while Adaine nervously tries to make all of them exactly the same size.

Cathilda feels an immense feeling of pride well up in her chest as she looks as Fabian and Adaine watching over the meatballs slowly browning in the pen, bickering about how to best turn them over to fry them evenly.

“This might be the first time we’re spending time together without the others”, Adaine says at some point.

“Old money squad”, Fabian answers with a grin and holds out his fist for Adaine to bump.

“Maybe we can find any other squad name?”, she asks, her voice full of exasperation, but she still raises her fist for Fabian to bump his against.

“You say that like coming from old money is a bad thing.”

“Well, I don’t mean it that way. But I’m not exactly proud of it.”

“I won’t be calling us the meatball squad, Adaine.”

“Dad-killer squad?”

“Oh, that sounds badass. I like it!”

“Dad-killer squad it is.”

“Oh, to be young again”, Cathilda sighs amused as she turns down the heat of the stove and starts explaining how to pick the best kind of pasta for the recipe. Adaine starts taking notes, Fabian laughs at her for it. At some point Adaine conjures a magical hand, grabs some of the tomato paste and presses it into Fabian’s face.

Cathilda decides, since the sauce is still simmering gently and these children deserve to have normal, teenager-appropriate fun, to leave them to it for a while. She listens to the shouting from the living room while folding laundry.

It’s certainly good to know that the kids are going to be alright.

#adaine abernant #fabian seacaster #dimension 20 #fantasy high #fabian aramais seacaster #cathilda the black #cathilda calie #fanfiction #d20alphabet21 #mi writes

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whispelanix · 3 years

Text

Gameplay features we should have in a future Fallout title

Based on what we’ve had in previous games. Just some random storyline stuff and game stuff I’ve enjoyed so far:

Regions (Fallout 4, 76): Yes, I know every game has regions, but I'm talking about the difference in how life grows in certain areas and the level of radiation in said area kind of thing. The regions in 76 have so much personality. Fallout 4 only had the Commonwealth/Glowing Sea as its base game regions in how nature has evolved, but in 76 it's so diverse. Different mutated creatures are more native to different areas, and it has the flora to go alongside with it.

Plans (Fallout 76): Yeah, most of the 3D Fallout games has a few schematics for some weapons, and maybe a small variety of unique consumables, but I like how 76 makes you actually work and spend caps for Plans in order to know how to make something new. Not just weapons, but food, drinks, armor, workshop, etc. Because if this was real life, you wouldn't magically know how to make everything all of a sudden. They keep basic knowledge food items like deathclaw steak, which you can just cook up, as recipes you already know and you find recipes for more "advanced" dishes, and I really enjoy that.

Consumables System (Fallout 76): The amount of variety you have in regards to consumables in this game is amazing. There's so many mutated animals to cook up, so many plants to make soup, and you can make tea and even make juice out of something like mutfruit. I also love the additions we can put into consumables now (sugar, salt, pepper, honey, and we FINALLY have milk). So what they gave us in Fallout 4 with the better cooking aspects has been taken to new heights. Your food spoils now, and boiling water doesn't purify it, it just makes it boiled, which means you NEED a purifier to make it clean.

Eating/Drinking consumables without using Pip-Boy (Fallout 76): This is extremely useful, especially in an online game, and I think it'd work well in single player as well. You no longer have to hoard a bunch of stuff to just eat it, you now have the option to eat it on the spot as well, and move on with your life.

Layered Armor System and the ability to wear costumes over them (Fallout 4, 76): Fallout 4 introduced to us the layered armor system, which is one of the greatest things we've been given in regards to customizing outfits in the game, and now with Fallout 76 we have two different outfit options, armor and clothing. Now, not only can we wear underarmor and armor over it to protect us, but we now have coveralls as well to do so in style whilst retaining the effects of whatever else we wear underneath it.

Distant Weather Systems (Fallout 76): Pretty self explanatory - the ability to see storms coming from a distance as well as nuclear explosions along the horizon is pretty great if you ask me.

Faction Reputation (New Vegas, Fallout 76): I really like these features, because let's be honest, you can't stay on everyone's good side forever. There was only one case of this in Fallout 4, and that was the "You are now enemies with X faction". That ain't good enough. If we could get a mix of the faction reputation system in NV/76, I would be very pleased.

Karma and Affinity (Fallout 3, New Vegas, Fallout 4): The ultimate decider of good and evil. While in NV you had reputations amongst different factions, the karma system is the ultimate decider of where you stand in the wasteland. I like the individual Affinity system with companions as well, because it gives you the chance to either be a certain way, or pretend to act a way to gain trust. I can see why Karma was removed in 4 though, because Karma is based upon what everyone in the wasteland knows of you, so that would've limited the ability to stay on all the companions good sides if your Karma was at a certain level. If there was a way to balance it out though, that would be great. Or maybe they could find a way to make Karma separate from companions, and still make it work out nicely with their individual Affinity.

Maybe Karma in regards to companions could be the determiner of "first impressions", and then the Affinity you develop with them is the determiner of who you really are. They did a reversal of this in Fallout 4 where companions such as Cait, MacCready and Hancock have a more badass reputation when you first meet them, but as you get to know them you find they've been through a lot of suffering. But they still keep their initial reputation among outsiders. If it can be done with NPC's, who's to say it can't be done with the player?

"You are now dressed as a member of X" (New Vegas): The ability to disguise ourselves as members of different factions was a great addition, and really should be bought back. You can get into places you couldn't before, amongst people you normally couldn't, but I think if it's bought back, then factions you work alongside with should be able to detect whether or not it's you, unless you wear a mask or a facial covering.

Clothing is as clothing does (Fallout 4, 76): Suits shouldn't just magically turn into dresses just because you decided to play as a female. If you wanna alternate between "male" and "female" versions of an outfit, then let there just be suit/dress versions of certain styles of clothing. I liked how 4/76 did this, because now, if you wanna be a guy in a dress. Guess what? You can be a guy in a dress.

Workshops and C.A.M.P features (Fallout 4, 76): I doubt we're going to get the ability to make an obnoxious amount of settlements again (maybe), but I admire the chance we're given to build and really make a part of the wasteland our own, and I even more so love how 76 really gives us all those buildings and furniture and decorations to really personalize what you have. Who knows, maybe a future title will give us a combination of workshops you naturally have in place for construction, settlements to help build up (because saving the day always seems to be the job of the player), and then C.A.M.Ps that we as the player can move wherever we like. Maybe we could be given the option to build campsites for other NPCs as a temporary or permeant home. Maybe what we build up will have the ability to be destroyed like in 76.

Grey Morality/Politics (A bit over all titles, talking especially about New Vegas, The Pitt, things of the sort): The factions we were given in NV all had good and bad sides to them, making it sometimes difficult to have a truly perfect utopia. I hope we get back more morally grey choices as well as factions and politics, or instances in where there is no right answer other than wrong and a little less wrong. I don't really need to explain in detail, you've seen how things have played out across titles.

Old Dialogue System (Every game but Fallout 4): Options yes, no, no but actually yes and sarcasm aren't good enough. I love the cinematic aspect FO4 had, don't get me wrong, but conversation is so limited. I also loved the ridiculous way the camera would zoom right on someone's face (I feel sometimes in 76 you can just be way too far from someone talking sometimes) and I'd like to be able to walk out of the conversation whenever I want as well.

Certain Perks/Stats result certain outcomes (Most of the old titles): I wanna be able to get away with low intelligent speeches, flirt with people to get my way, things of the sort. Pretty simple.

That's all I've got for now since I've been working on this list for hours but yeah. Feel free to add things you'd like to see. Personality I'd just like to see the best features and aspects taken from all the games to create the "ultimate Fallout experience".

#fallout #stuff #thoughts #idk

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feeling-weirdy · 3 years

Note

I loved your Halloween fic!!!!

Would you consider writing a follow up where Wanda and Vision finally get to walk down the yellow brick road 😉😉 once trick or treating is done and the kids are asleep? Maybe they have to take a shower to get all the makeup and stuff off???

Love everything you write!!!

Make sure you check out part 1 first!

Explicit for suuuuure

"Looks like the kids are down for the count. I never thought a sugar crash would be our saving grace, but there you have it." Vision plopped himself on the bed, straw pieces littering the bed with every movement. He and his costume had been positively spent and he found himself no longer caring where the bits of his costume fell. “The night is officially over.”

Wanda came in from the bathroom, meticulously removing both of her earrings with a thoughtful glance. "That wasn't too bad now was it?"

"You do have to admit...” Vision grunted softly, pushing himself up so that he was leaning on his elbows against the bed. “Your costumes are a bit...outdated." His face scrunched at the word, his lips tugging outwards as his eyes scanned her perfect form. The blue and white checkered pattern suited her quite nicely, a small slip of fabric hugging her waist together in a most delicious way that only stopped once it twisted around itself to form the bow that sat at the small of her back.

"Outdated?” She scoffed, making her way towards him. Placing the earrings on the nightstand, she leaned over him and placed one delicate kiss on his lips. “I think you look quite handsome if I do say so myself."

"Mm, thank you, darling." As she pulled back, he followed her sneaking in one last kiss before she stood up straight. “Yours is definitely worth all the fuss. I think I could get used to seeing you in little numbers like that.”

“Oh yeah?” She giggled, sauntering toward the bathroom with exaggerated movements. Her hips swung back and forth as she peered over at him with a loving glance. "Maybe you should help me get this little number off then. Find something else you'd enjoy more?" Wanda leaned against the bathroom door, daring him to follow after her with teasing eyes.

Vision cocked his head to the side, a knowing smile gracing his lips.

"Pretty sure we're supposed to follow that yellow brick road, hm? You wouldn't want to keep me from finding my way home, would you Mr. Scarecrow?"

Vision chuckled, pushing himself to his feet as he closed the distance between them. "I'm pretty sure we can drop all that, yeah? Maybe it's not quite as sexy as I thought it was." Slipping his hand around her waist, he used his right to trace the edge of her jaw, pulling her lips up to meet his.

"Worth a shot." Wanda shrugged, grinning up at him. "Maybe we should just...take this off and put things back in order."

"I think that would be for the best."

They kept their eyes locked on each other. Wanda reached around her back, slowly undoing the bow that kept her little dress tight around her body. She turned, silently asking for help with the zipper. Vision complied, brushing her hair out of the way as he steadily pulled the zipper all the way down her back.

Slipping his hands beneath the fabric, he ran his cool digits along her skin, tracing the indentation of her back until he reached her shoulders. He flicked the straps off of her shoulders allowing the entirety of the dress to fall to the floor, revealing her voluptuous body.

He allowed his fingers to explore her skin, tracing over the patterns of her black bra. With a soft sigh, she turned in his arms, stretching her arms around his neck and pulled him down for another kiss.

"No fair," she breathed against him, peering down at his still clothed body.

Vision laughed. " I wouldn't even know where to begin to take this thing off." He raised his arms slightly, feeling as if he had been sewn inside this blasted thing, and as the person who did the sewing, she knew full well what she had done.

"Can't you just...?" Wanda's eyebrows danced, moving in all sorts of directions in implication. "Plus...you gotta change...all that anyway." She circled her finger around his face, a dazzling smile crossing her face. "If I'm going to make love to my husband then I'm going to make love to my husband."

"Ah...right." His human disguise dissipated, giving way to the reddish-purple tint of his normal outward appearance. Changing forms gave himself the opportunity to shed his costume, leaving him in nothing but his black boxers. His wife gazed up at him, her approval evident.

“Much better...”

Vision set to work where he left off earlier in the night, peppering kisses along the nape of her neck. Teasing his cool fingers along the sides of bare skin, eliciting all sorts of sighs and squeaks as he made his way around her body. He could feel Wanda’s warm fingers make their way along his hard chest, the temperature difference sending shivers through his very core. Soft moans escaped her lips, nagging him on until it was his tongue trailing along her soft, delicate skin. While he couldn’t taste in the same way a human could, he could still feel the metallic tang rest along his tongue. He could take in her heat if nothing else, only growing more pronounced as he made his desires known.

Not allowing himself to rush, Vision took his time as he worked his way up her neck drawing out all sorts of delicious noises from Wanda’s lips as she wrapped her arms around him. Her fingertips scraping along the sensitive part at the base of his neck only driving him mad.

Finally making his way to her mouth, Vision crashes his lips to her, his hand trailing back down to the tip of her waist as she pressed against him. The passion between them built by the moment, pulling each other closer until air no longer existed between them.

Wanda hops and wraps her legs around his waist and he carries her to the bed, stripping off her panties in one quick motion. She arched her back, hurriedly removing her bra, never breaking their kiss as he climbs on top of her. Tossing her underwear to the side, she allowed her fingers to explore his body once more, reaching down to tease him through his boxers. A powerful feeling exploded within him as she ran a finger along his cock, coaxing him forward.

Happily obliging, Vision pressed himself against her center, teasing the folds with the bulge keeping them apart. The feeling of her warmth against his swollen muscle drew him, easily phasing through the last of his clothes until he was completely engulfed within her.

Despite her attempts to keep herself quiet, Wanda’s whines dripped from her lips unashamed as he buried himself within her. She bit her bottom lip, digging her fingernails into the plates on his back as she braced herself for the friction that built up between them.

He kept a steady rhythm, her warmth drawing him deeper as he gripped the sheets beneath them. Wanda traced her fingers along his cheeks, pulling him down for another hungry kiss.

They moved together, keeping a uniformed pace as he closed the distance between them again and again.

Vision could feel as she reached her climax, her walls tensing against his member as she tried desperately to keep herself quiet for their children’s sake. She never could quite get that right, though they had been lucky those same children were hard sleepers. He hurried his pace, hoping to help her along as she fell over the edge.

Her breathing staggered, her heart rate increased as she began to convulse, biting her bottom lip to keep herself from screaming as he chased his own release. Vision was never far behind, her soft and desperate expressions only pushing him faster towards his own convulsions.

His systems erupted with pleasure as his programming replicated the experience of an orgasm. The intense feeling overtook him, squeezing his eyes tight as he allowed it to wash over him. Wanda’s fingers danced along his arms, determined to catch her breath as his movements slowed.

Vision kept himself towered over her as she caught her breath. She leaned her head back for a moment, sweat peppering her brow. “Now we’re definitely going to need a shower. Care to join me?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Vision answered, pressing his lips hard against hers one last time into a deep kiss. Even after all this time together, her kisses sent electricity throughout his entire system. They spent a moment just absorbing each other in a truly blissful, happy moment. With a smile and a quick kiss on the nose, Vision pulled away from her as she giggled beneath him.

Following her to the bathroom, the two spent the night consumed with one another.

Check out my other drabbles here or feel free to request some!

#scarletvision #wandavision #the vision #wanda maximoff #rini drabbles #scarletvision smut #sitcom au #look this is your one smut prompt for now #don't test me #writing smut makes me so nervous lmao

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