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tender-rosiey · 8 months

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hii, hope im not bothering uu!!

my brain is obsessed with ur daddy gojo ficsss!! 🤭🤭 just a thought though. what if gojo brought his kid to work since reader couldnt hire a babysitter and had work to do!! 😱😱 kid can be a baby or like, 7-10?? or something? (idrc i jus need to feed my head with more dad gojo fics 😔😔, kid can be a girl or boy!!) hopee u have a nice dayyy!! ❤❤

missing – gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: I wrote the kid being around 5 or 6 max, I think?? hope you like this as well! <3

you are standing at the door, checking over everything with your husband, "satoru, you got the toys?"

like the proud and confident dad he is, he replies with ease, "yep."

"the snacks?"

“of course,” he grins, pulling up the bag of snacks and toys to show you.

but you’re still stressing, "what about—“

"wifey, relax!” he starts rubbing your shoulders soothingly; “I got everything she needs. you have nothing to worry about,” he presses a loud kiss to your cheek.

"last time you said that, you teleported with d/n to the maldives."

he laughs loudly, before pulling you into a big hug, "aww, babe; I said I am sorry,” he is swaying the both of you, “you know I wanted you to be with us."

"that's not the point!"

"oh wowie, look at the time!” he looks at his fake watch and starts gently pushing you towards the car, “you’re gonna be late sweetheart."

"oh god!" you gasp, quickly giving satoru his goodbye kiss, and running to your daughter to give her own goodbye peck on the cheek as well, “I will miss you; take care of dada, okay?”

“aren’t I the one who is supposed to do that taking care part?!”

“bye ‘toru; bye d/n! love you!”

“love you too!” they both reply in unison before looking each other in the eye. satoru grins at her, “do you want to see uncle nanami?”

“nanamin!” she squeals then runs to god knows where.

soon, they finally get to jujutsu tech.

it took longer than usual because the little missy ran off and decided to play hide and seek. in addition to that, since the madlives incident, you banned satoru from teleporting with d/n because it gets her really dizzy and she starts puking.

so like the common people, he takes a car and has to wait till they arrive there. he wants to grumble, but, at least, his princess is there to play with him and make conversations.

they are finally in class when nobara coos, crouching down in front of d/n, “oh, you’re so cute!”

the little girl grins, “thank you!”

“also, I love your dress!”

“oh; thank you!” d/n gasps and starts twirling around, “mommy picked it for me! It’s so pretty, right?” nobara nods eagerly at her and it makes d/n giggle.

d/n pauses for a moment, a pout on her face and eyes get teary, and looks at satoru, “mommy…”

satoru pats her head, “we will see her soon; don’t worry.”

“wow; I am surprised you’re acting like a proper dad,” megumi comments, waving at d/n who grins back at him.

swiftly, yuuji defends his teacher’s pride, “hey! sensei is a great dad!”

d/n starts swinging her arms around and running in place like she is preparing for something. soon. it is revealed what she is waiting for. the door opens and she launches herself at the new guest, “nanamin!”

nanami effortlessly catches her and secures his hold on her, “d/n, that was dangerous; what if you got hurt?”

she looks down with yet another pout, “I know…’am sorry. just missed you.”

nanami sighs before patting her head, “it’s alright,” a tiny smile creeps up, “are you having fun so far?”

she nods happily and starts rambling about how cool nobara is or how much fun yuuji is to be around. meanwhile, satoru is standing in a corner with his arms crossed and grumbling, “that’s my daughter, you know.”

“imagine losing your daughter’s affection to someone else,” megumi pops up from behind satoru.

he retorts with no hesitation, “imagine not having a father.”

satoru looks petrified at megumi who is so very offended. satoru starts mini-panicking, “wait—megumi, I was kidding!”

“divine dogs.”

satoru shrieks and d/n squeals, pointing at him, “minmin, daddy’s playing with ‘gumi’s dogs!”

nanami averts his attention to gojo playing (read: being attacked). he nods slowly at the suffering man, “he is having so much fun; isn’t he?”

“yay!” she throws her arms in the air.

nobara snaps a picture of d/n, “she’s adorable!”

yuuji sobs beside her, “I know right?!”

that was at the beginning of the day, but, right now, satoru has to attend a meeting for some reason with the higher-ups, including yaga. though, it hardly counts as a proper one considering that satoru laid out d/n toys so she can play with him.

“daddy, you’re not supposed to give him the green shirt; he needs the blue one.”

satoru quickly obeys, “yes ma’am,” and he changes the doll into his fabulous blue outfit. d/n giggles and holds his face to kiss his cheek.

one of the higher-ups clears his throat, “refrain from such disrespectful behavior during the meeting, gojo.”

satoru smiles humorlessly at the elder, “last time I checked, my daughter’s happiness is a lot more important than the nonsense you spout every single time.”

d/n carefully makes her way down the table and pulls on satoru’s pants, “daddy, toilet, please.”

“this was a fun meeting!” he beams, collecting d/n’s toys in her bag, “I have more urgent matters to attend to so adieu!” he mock bows, before bending to pick his daughter up, “let’s go princess.”

the door closes after satoru and d/n leave, and everyone looks at yaga. he takes a deep breath, “listen, that's his daughter. asking him not to pamper her is like asking a cat to let go of her kittens. you will get bit.”

time passes and satoru is chilling with d/n in the common room. she is laying on his lap and curled around herself. she groggily looks up to him, “when are we going to see mommy?”

he starts stroking her hair, “soon; I promise,” he takes out a candid picture he took of you and hands it to her, “how about you take this until we go back home and see mommy?”

she nods slowly and hugs the photo close. satoru smiles softly and presses a kiss to her forehead. not much after, d/n falls asleep with your photo secure in her hold.

it makes satoru chuckle. it reminds him of how he can never sleep without you either.

that’s why when he goes on mission, he scrolls endlessly through your photos until sleep takes over him or he listens to any voice message you sent. it helps him with the dilemma of missing you, and he is glad it helps his daughter the same way.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @sonder-paradise @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

#gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jjk imagines #jjk x you #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo imagine #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk gojo x reader #jjk gojo x you #jjk gojo x y/n #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru x y/n

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way2gosuperrstarr · 10 days

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stupid lil au/just thing ive been thinking about for the past couple days (^ᴗ^)

superstar daycare grand opening ..,,... fbheugsdj

so ,,,, basically,,, yn (who has 0 childcare training, mind you, only previous petcare background) gets hired for a daycare position, under the impression they will be receiving training on site. sun (and moon, by extension) have just been converted to a daycare bot with some childcare protocols messily slapped into their existing code. the code is, frankly, very shoddily put together. at least one human being was legally required to be present with the children so they weren't alone with a robot, so that's where yn comes in.

the daycare's grand opening is coming up. shenagans ensue.

i was gonna continue but im losing steam here outta embarassment dfguwieb. yn's background is very self indulgent for me, since i work in dog care euughfhhdjf (๑•́‧̫•̀๑),, here are a collection of the doodles ive done for it so far ehghjdv

#salmon scribbles #my art #art #hope the concept is enjoyable/entertaining i guess jbfrbvkds #withers away into the floorboards #hhgggggg #cpr for children and animals are relatively the same #but for the sake of the bit #i will be drawing moon soon dw <3 #i just ran outta space on the canvas #Superstar Daycare Grand Opening #dca fandom #dca community #sun fnaf #sundrop #sun x y/n #sundrop x y/n #fnaf security breach

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notjustjavierpena · 2 months

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Practice Makes Perfect

A/N: You know I had to. Can you tell I have studied rhetorics at uni?

Summary: You are Mr. Ted Garcia’s political advisor and you help him with practicing his upcoming speech.

Pairing: Ted Garcia x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, oral sex m receiving, strip tease, dirty talk, verbal humiliation, praise kink, come swallowing, face-fucking

Word count: 2.4k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54597913

Practice Makes Perfect

“Go over it again,” you order as you are perched on the desk, one leg crossed over the other by the knee and your red-bottom stiletto dangling from your toes. You are gripping the edge of the table, and whereas your position looks downright sinful, the smile on your face sports innocence, “Go on, Mr. Re-elected Mayor.”

Ted whips around to face you, reaching up to loosen the knot on his tie. He smiles, a little uncertain of what to make of you, “You don’t know that yet, sweetheart.”

“I know you won’t win the reelection if you don’t practice,” you shrug your shoulders and then move your hands to lean back on your arms.

“I’ve gone over it a million times,” he says with a sigh, “Would much rather call it a day and order some food. We haven’t had Chinese in a while, have we?”

“Ted,” you stop him, “I need the speech tomorrow to be absolutely flawless. I’m your advisor; it’ll reflect badly on me if you stumble. Not to mention, I’m a woman so I have to work twice as hard to earn the public’s respect. They probably think you hired me to suck cock. That’s what they’re saying anyway.”

“Didn’t I?” He jokes and steps towards you.

You glare at him but there’s no malice in it, “I could get you fired for that statement, you know.”

“I should fire you for being so distracting,” he retorts. When he gets close enough, he reaches out to curl a strong hand around your thigh and uncrosses your legs. He steps between them but you shake your head when he tries to lean over you.

“Go over it again,” you repeat. You lean back a little further until you are able to lift your leg and place your heel on his chest, pushing him backward and away from you. He follows your silent order of staying back but still grabs your ankle hard enough to make you shiver.

“From the top,” you say to not lose face.

“And if I don’t, Ms. Advisor?” He challenges.

“You’ll regret it,” you tease him by sounding almost bored, “Try and see what happens.”

Ted sighs and lets go of your leg, simultaneously letting go of the idea of getting to fuck you as a way of ending his work day. He moves back to the center of his office, clears his throat, and shakes his arms as if trying to loosen up his tense body, “Right, let’s give it another go.”

You cross your legs again and wait. He is going to have no idea what hits him.

“Ladies and gentlemen, citizens of our beloved city, as I stand before you today, I am filled with hope and optimism for the future of our city…” He begins and his tone is laced with a charm that you know better than to believe. Others, however, will eat it up.

“Very good, Ted,” you praise when he is a few more lines in. He meets your eyes for approval, a playful smirk on his lips. You wipe it off his face not a moment after, having reached up to unbutton your shirt until it falls open and reveals your lace bra, “Continue.”

Ted’s gaze shamelessly lingers on your chest for a few seconds before he does as he is told. It is so easy, like Pavlov’s dog.

“We stand at a crossroads, where the decisions we make today will shape the trajectory of our city for generations to come,” he speaks with confidence, fuelled by the shirt falling off your shoulders and pooling around you on the desk. He looks deep in thought as he tries to remember the keywords that guide him forward in his speech but when you let a shoe fall to the floor, only to let the other one follow, he looks up to satisfy his curiosity, “And I believe that embracing technology is not just an option, but a necessity if we are to thrive in the 21st century.”

“God, you are killing it, Mr. Garcia,” you are only in your skirt and bra now but the bra won’t stay on for much longer. You reach up behind you to unclasp it but there’s no follow-through. You raise a brow in disapproval, “Well?”

“Fuck, where was I?” He runs a hand through his hair. You don’t blame him for forgetting because he doesn’t seem to have blood in his brain right now; it appears to have gone south where he is tenting in his suit pants.

“A mayor doesn’t swear,” you tut with a little shake of your head, hand still in a waiting position to expose your tits to him. You decide to help him, “My vision for our city…”

“My vision for our city is one where technology serves as a catalyst for positive change!” His voice is slightly louder than normal as if relief floods him because he knows by now that remembering will get him to see you naked. He straightens, “Where innovation brings economic growth, and where every person has the opportunity to succeed.”

You undo your bra and let the straps fall down your arms until you teasingly drop it onto the floor. Your breasts are exposed to the air conditioning unit sending out cold air in the mayor’s office, immediately causing your nipples to harden at the temperature drop. You let out a teasing moan and jump off the desk to make your tits bounce obscenely, “I wanna hear more, Ted. Please.”

“I— uhh,” his gaze is fixed on your chest.

You place a hand on the skirt’s zipper along your side, teasingly pulling it down along your thigh. It seems to kickstart his memory again, “Where smart infrastructure optimizes traffic flow, reduces energy consumption for a greener future, and - Jesus, baby - and thus enhances public safety. A city where access to high-speed internet and the newest devices is not a luxury, but a fundamental right…”

“God, you are so sexy like this,” you say with a grin, hoping that he catches onto the way your eyes drop to his mouth when he speaks, “Nearly convincing me, baby.”

You start to wiggle your hips to get out of your pencil skirt, causing your whole body to shake as you move the fabric down over your legs. It makes Mayor Candidate Ted Garcia’s whole brain go dumb because he stops reciting his speech altogether and simply admires the way your breasts jump with every movement of your lower body.

“Did I tell you to stop?” You ask when the skirt lies in the pile with your bra and shoes. You hook your thumbs into the waistband of your matching lace panties, “Just a little more.”

“But you’re nearly undressed,” he points out and hits his chest to clear his throat when his voice seems to have gone up an octave. He looks almost pained when you stop any motion to step out of your underwear.

“Listen, here’s what’s going to happen,” you move to stand in front of him with only inches between the two of you, “You’ll make the rest of the speech I wrote with your sexy, big cock in my mouth, and I won’t make you finish until you’re finished.”

Ted swallows thickly. He nods and tries to be cocky one last time during your relentless teasing, “You sure I didn’t hire you because of your fellatio skills?”

“Why don’t you use your own tongue instead of worrying about mine and make those little words roll off it?” You bite back, “One more line.”

“H-however, embracing technology is about a lot more than just improving efficiency,” he tries his best not to stutter too much. Oh, you cannot wait to hear him lose it when you close your lips around his beautiful cock.

“Mhm, what’s it about then?” You encourage. The panties come off then, pooling around your feet until you kick them to the side.

“It's also about fostering a culture of innovation and entrepreneurship,” he replies with his eyes between your thighs to watch your throbbing cunt. Despite your cool demeanor, you have never wanted him more than right now, and seeing him desperate and faltering because of something you have done is a feeling out of this world.

You sink to your knees with a dirty smile, keeping your eyes on him the whole time to watch the satisfying sight of his burning desire corrupting his concentration. You wish to tell him that he is so good today, that he hadn’t lied about going over the speech a million times.

You settle for showing it instead, undoing the button on his black slacks and then the zipper. He twitches behind the fabric. You are salivating by now, aching between your thighs to taste him on your tongue. You pull out his cock with little effort, grinning mischievously up through your lashes as it springs free and nearly hits your cheek.

“I’ll start dripping on your floor if you get it right, don’t you want that?” You say it and then start to gather spit in your mouth, preparing yourself for his generous size to slide past your lips.

“I want that,” he breathes, “Fuck yes, I want that.”

“Then tell me what you envision,” you hint and then you take him into your hot, waiting mouth. He tastes so fucking good, heavy on your tongue as you relax your jaw until he stabs the back of your throat.

He sucks in a breath as you hollow your cheeks and slowly pull off, only to repeat the move again and again, “I envision our city attracting the brightest minds from around the globe to come—“

You hum around his girth at the choice of word, a giggle bubbling up in your throat. The vibration of your noise makes Ted settle a hand on top of your bobbing head, ready to yank if it becomes too much and he needs release right then and there. He corrects himself professionally but falters once more because you moan at the taste of his precome oozing from the tip, “I mean work together and create the next huge— b-big thing.”

You reach underneath his dick to cup his balls and massage them in your palm, working your lips up and down his shaft simultaneously. You have to breathe deeply through your nose, resulting in your neck muscles tightening slightly while he speaks.

Ted moans out loud for the first time then, having gone past simply stuttering and swearing. He looks down at you with a slack jaw, and when he stays quiet for just a little too long, you start to pull off. He sounds panicked, yelling out a no.

“Of course, with great technological advancements come great responsibilities. We must be vigilant in protecting the privacy and security of our citizens,” as soon as he starts again, you go back into it with even more enthusiasm, removing your hand from his balls to reach up and grip his hip. You pull at it to show him what you want, and he breaks the long streak he has had with simply reciting his speech for tomorrow, “You want me to fuck that dirty little mouth? Huh?”

You moan in confirmation, nodding with his cock far down your throat. The eyes you send him have him breathing hard and nodding repeatedly, doing an experimental thrust, “Yeah, that’s what you want. You just wanna please your local elected official, you little slut.”

He can’t fail now. You furrow your brow up at him, trying to look displeased despite how wet you are right there on the floor. He catches on, tries his best to talk comprehensively whilst sliding wetly and repeatedly past the very tight space at the back of your mouth, “R-right, where was I? Shit, that’s right. That's why I will do everything in my power to implement the correct measures and promote trans - fuuuck - parency.”

You press your thighs together when you hear him moan through the end of his speech. He sounds so sexy that you can’t imagine stopping even if he doesn’t get to the last word, and you whimper around his thick cock to push him closer to the edge.

It’s the first tear that falls from your eye that has him on the brink but he still powers through, “Together, we can use the power of technology to build a city where innovation knows no bounds, and where the sky is truly the limit.”

You are sure it looks like you’ve pissed yourself with how wet you are by now, a patch having formed underneath your dripping cunt. You move your hips to find some kind of friction but to no avail. Above you, Ted rounds off his speech.

“So I ask you, my fellow citizens - fuck, honey, I’m gonna come… I’m gonna come right in your pretty mouth, ah, ah, a-almost - uhh, to join me on this journey towards a brighter future,” he thrusts his hips even faster at this point, his pitch climbing until he is whining instead of talking. The way you can feel his pulse on your lips lets you know that he isn’t lying, so you allow him to fuck your throat frantically even if it hurts a little, “Let us embrace technology with open arms, and together, we will— we will— shit, we will build a city that we can be proud to call home. Thank you!”

He comes as soon as he has said those last two words, and they become his mantra as he spills down your throat with several twitches of his cock that simply will not stop, “Thank you, oh fuck, thankyouthankyouthankyou.”

You swallow greedily, sucking him completely clean until he shakes his head in oversensitivity and pulls out of your mouth. He tastes like himself and power, enough to get you drunk.

“You are fucking fantastic,” he groans when tucking himself back into his pants. He crouches down to meet you at eye level, marveling at the way you are practically fucking yourself onto the air, “My sweet girl.”

“Fuck, I need you,” you pant with tear-streaked cheeks.

“Here’s an idea since I did so well,” he starts, reaching into his pocket to hand you his phone, “How about you call and order us some food and I rub your cute little clit while you do it? Then we’ll see who is the real professional orator here.”

You want to reply but you can barely press the number of his favorite Chinese place and you almost come the second he touches between your thighs.

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#pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #eddington #ted garcia #ted garcia smut #ted garcia x reader #ted garcia x you #my writing

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niqhtlord01 · 3 months

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Humans are weird: Do a human a “Solid”

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

On Xenthari it was both culturally acceptable and almost mandatory to participate in duels. They could be fought for honor, profit, social status, or for the sheer thrill of it should one be of that disposition. Participants could even choose champions to fight for them instead making the position of professional duelist a very lucrative occupation.

Lulu did not particularly enjoy the idea of dueling. She never was good with a sword and would more often end up losing, and she lacked enough funds to make hiring someone in her stead near impossible. At school she had few friends and the ones she did have would never volunteer to be her champions when she was eventually challenged to duels.

It wasn’t because she was actively searching for them. She rather liked her quiet life and avoided such confrontations that would lead to a duel being issued. Yet she was a social outcast and picking on her had been deemed a past time for some of the more aggressive students at her school. They would easily disarm her and then take great relish in attacking her.

Duels for those underage were different from official duels. One could not deal a lethal blow in underage duels. Rules stated that while surrender was a great dishonor, a duelist could surrender and forfeit the duel after being dealt one blow. Because Lulu hated fighting she would let her opponents get a blow in and then surrender. With that though came dishonor to her name and her standing as an outcast only further grew.

Lulu had resigned herself to this fate until one day a transfer student came to school.

Her name was Trisha Yulie, but she preferred to be called “Triss”. Her family had sent her to Xenthari after several “incidents” happened at her school back on her homeworld. They thought that being in such a drastically different environment and society would make her appreciate the things she used to have. Little did her parents know that the combative nature of Xenthari would only increase these tendencies; one of which introduced Triss to her new friend, Lulu.

The two had never interacted with each other until one day in the cafeteria Lulu saw Triss near one of the food dispensers. She was rummaging through her pockets and looking upset; Lulu figured the human did not have enough currency to purchase an item.

“Here.” Lulu said as she walked next to Triss.

She leaned forward and put a token into the machine and then smacked the side of it three times in certain places. The machine sputtered and beeped for a moment before a food package emerged from the dispenser. Lulu took it and handed it to Triss.

Looking down at the food Triss smiled as she gratefully took it. “Thanks,” Triss said as she followed Lulu back to a table, “was getting so hungry I started wondering if there were any horses around here.”

Lulu looked at Triss and something must have shown on her face as Triss realized she would have no idea what a horse was. She was just about to explain when a group of students came up behind Llulu and shoved her.

“Get up.” The leader of them laughed. “It’s time for your correction.”

Lulu didn’t need to see who had shoved her as she recognized the voice even before she stood up and turned around.

Ulia, the most popular student and heir to a wealthy transit corporation run by her family, gave a sadistic grin as her gang of lackeys laughed. She loved to pick on Lulu and normally she would have just allowed the duel to happen, but Triss had other ideas.

“Oi, fuck face!” Triss spoke up as Ulia shifted he gaze to Triss. “Me and my new friend here were having a conversation and you weren’t invited, so piss off!”

“How cute.” Ulia chuckled. “You let your dog speak for you now, eh Lulu?”

“Did she just fucking call me a dog?” Triss asked a still silent Lulu. “Have you looked in a mirror? Your face is so ugly it gets flagged for indecent exposure online.”

For the first time Lulu could ever remember she was Ulia’s face twitch in anger.

“I see that I need to teach our new exchange student here some manners.”

Triss sighed loudly. “I was going to give you a chance to apologize, but now I’m just going to kick your ass.”

The surrounding students pulled tables away to form a circle. Ulia drew her sword and activated its power field. The blade lit to life as it was enveloped by a green glow casting shadows across the room.

Ulia grinned as she drew the blade close to her face “Draw your blade so we can end this farce.”

To her surprise Triss shook her head and shrugged off her school jacket revealing a well-toned body of raw muscle. “Don’t need a fancy stick to beat you when I got these.” She shook out her hands and brought them up as clenched fists.

“Your funeral.” Ulia laughed as she took up a ready stance. One of her lackeys stepped between Triss and Ulia and acted as ref. “The duel will begin when I step back out of the ring. First one to verbally surrender or be rendered incapable of continuing the duel will be designated the loser and thus ending the duel. No lethal blows are allowed.”

With that the lackey stepped backwards beginning the duel.

Ulia lunged forward ready to run Triss through with the tip of her sword. Triss stood motionless for the last second until the blade was inches from her.

Pivoting to the side at the last moment Triss avoided the blade as Ulia’s forward momentum kept her going. She was about to spin her blade around when Triss drove a hard right punch directly into her jaw.

The blow was heavy enough to stagger Ulia as she tried to recover but Triss gave her no time. She was within Ulia’s guard in a flash and delivered another blow to the opposite side of Ulia’s jaw.

“Waaagh?” Ulia stammered as she stumbled back into the crowd of onlookers. Her eyes went wide as she gurgled more noises with increasing frustration but no intelligible words came out.

“By now you’ve probably realized your jaw has been completely dislocated from your skull.” Triss spoke as she circled Ulia. “I didn’t want you giving up too early; gotta lot of steam I need to blow off.”

Ulia shoved the people around her away and tried to shout something only for it to be slurred beyond recognition. She brought the sword down hard in a long sweep towards Triss but she backed away to avoid it.

Unleashing a flurry of blows each one capable of cutting through flesh, but Triss continued dodging them left and right like a prize boxer. She opened up another devastating blow to Ulia’s midriff causing her to vomit a large amount of fluid.

The crowd watched with horrified silence. Never had they seen a duel with fists before. It was something utterly foreign to them and had been taught to be barbaric. Yet here was a human who with only her fists was decimating a sword wielder.

Triss circled Ulia who had collapsed to the ground. “You want to give up princess?” she mocked. “Just say the word and…oh wait! You can’t much say anything right now can you?”

Ulia swept her blade for Triss’s ankles. With a swift motion Triss lifted her right foot and brought it down as hard as she could on Ulia’s hand holding the sword, crushing the wrist with a loud wet crunch. The blade fell from Ulia’s hand as she cradled her now broken wrist with her remaining hand.

Triss picked up the blade and inspected it. “What you think Lulu?” Triss called over to Lulu who was standing in the gathered crowd. “She started messing with you; want me to rough her up some more?”

Every eye in the crowd suddenly turned to look at Lulu. Lulu’s mouth opened to speak but nothing came out as Triss continued.

“I wonder, how much credibility do you think you’d lose if you were cut by your own blade?”

She held the blade out against Ulia’s cheek as her eyes went wide. “Bet you’re little groupies here might bail on you.” Triss leaned down and whispered to Ulia. “Or maybe you’re more worried about what your family would say?”

Tears of pure teal formed in the corners of her eyes as Ulia tried to speak only for Triss to shush her by putting a finger over her mouth.

“If you don’t want that to happen, I think you should leave me and my friend alone from now on; else the next time we have this little dispute you won’t end so peacefully.”

With that Ulia nodded and collapsed to the ground.

“Looks like she can’t continue,” Triss announced proudly, dropping the sword in, “I think that means I’m the winner.”

The crowd parted as Triss walked back to Lulu and put an arm over her shoulder. “I think we were having lunch before all that happened, want to get back to it?”

“Ssssure.” Lulu stammered as she let Triss lead her back to their table. As the pair sat down she finally worked up the courage to say “Thank you.”

“For what?” Triss remarked as she tried to pull open the food package Lulu gave her earlier.

“For standing up for me.” Lulu replied. She leaned over and pressed a button on the package and it flash cooked the meal and opened itself.

Triss nodded her thanks and began digging in. “You did me a solid so I do you one; tit for tat.”

“So because I got you lunch you fought a duel for me? Lulu asked, astounded when Lulu nodded.

“A solid is a solid, doesn’t matter if it is equal or not; that’s what friends do for each other.”

#humans are insane #humans are weird #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01 #doing a solid #fighting #dueling

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delicrieux · 11 months

Text

—𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭, ch.1: things of present and future importance

pairing—carmy berzatto x f!reader genre—drama, romance, age gap, boss/employee relationship warnings for this chapter—trauma, anxiety, swearing, and sum depression as dessert word count—2k

uh-oh, carmen is losing it again, this time in front of his new employee, too.

author’s note: give me this wet dog of a man and give him to me NOWWWWWWWW

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | read on ao3 . next >

important! some of the dialogue scenes are written as a script & dialogues that overlap are marked in [] <3

there’s a lot of things wrong with this situation, but carmen does not have it in him to care. maybe he never will, and that’s okay, because it’s his fucking restaurant and he knows he could be kinder, could be gentler, could, maybe, keep all of those splinters in his gut from hurting too bad if he took a few deep breaths just how they say in therapy. deep breaths, slow breaths, and then they look at you like you’re a toddler having a meltdown in the middle of the street and suddenly, suddenly, it’s all go fuck yourself and the door slamming shut.

carmen’s an abandoned puppy – disheveled hair and round eyes that have been unloved (by him, most of all), with his head bent and shoulders tense, not sure whether to flee or attack, but offense is the best defense and just like a bad dog he bites when frightened. it’s all teeth and anger and desperation; jaws lock and teeth sink and he doesn’t let go because he’s starving, even if what he’s fighting for is nothing but a cadaver of a place, space, body – brother? no, don’t think of mikey. he’s starving, has been for ages – approval? don’t say that – and that hunger bubbles to the surface when confronted by a minuscule imperfection, like sauce on the stove left to simmer for too long.

it’s a bad first impression, second impression, third, what the fuck, he’s good at food and not very good at math, unless math comes to food and then, maybe, he can sort it out. still bad, still fucking terrible, to be honest, and somewhere in the frying tangles of his mind he knows that yelling doesn’t help, and that yelling in front of the new hire doesn’t bode well for retention. the last enzymes of his sanity warn him – calm down, just, just calm down, carmen, you’re making it worse, you’re making it fucking worse – but the to-go machine keeps beeping, and the kitchen is too hot, and his staff is too anxious, and everything is amplified tenfold by his brother’s looming shadow that exists to him only. don’t think of mikey.

“can someone please turn that fucking thing off?” it’s his voice, laced by such scorn and a barely contained anger that makes him tremble by the pans. he’s losing his mind. sweat collects on his temple and his eyes sting from the fumes billowing onto his face, “sydney!”

“yes, chef.”

sydney’s a trooper, doesn’t bend under pressure like steel, and he sees her maneuvering in his peripherals, quick and agile to not get into anyone’s way, least of all his. briefly, he thinks about burning this place down. he blinks. the beeping stops – she ripped the cord out of the socked, dropped it onto the floor that sent an echo.

the new hire watches this shitshow unfold by her station, eyes wide and weary, ears perked for orders. her hands move – strong hands, swift hands, long fingers and rough palms that cradle a knife the way a mother would cradle a child. she doesn’t look at what she cuts, but she chops and slices and it’s all automatic – trained response? – and if carmen were to take a ruler and inspect the pieces, he’d be impressed to find that most are even and none are crooked. he’d hum, then, skim through the folders of his mind to re-check her experience, re-check the college she went to. he’d say something like, “good work, chef,” and maybe she’d smile at the bare bones of the compliment he’d given her, and when he’d be alone in his dingy office he’d pull out her resume and examine it with more interest because he’d be too embarrassed to ask.

he’ll grow familiar with those hands, with the dips and curves of knuckles and the tiger stripes of scars running down their expanse; he’ll grow familiar with the touch, too, soft despite the callouses, but only to him. not yet, though, not for another few months till a completely expected storm will halt the trains and he’ll have to drive her home. it’ll be weeks after that awkward silence in the car and stolen glances at soaked t-shirt-clad skin.

her form is unfamiliar to him – he hadn’t any interest to look, nor would he find anything curious when all is covered in oversized fabric and a blue apron. at present, she’s his colleague, nothing more, and a young one at that, too young and too talented to be stuck in such a place and with him running it.

but he will look. sooner than expected, and not for any devout reason, unless loneliness can be considered holy.

he’ll feel bad about it, too, and he’ll feel worse when everything escalates, because it always does.

for now, he cooks by the open flame, letting hot oil sizzle on his hands and the fire lick his fingers, and maybe, just maybe, he likes the pain because he knows nothing else. it’s become empirical to him. an indication that he’s still alive. that he’s still in control of something, even if he isn’t.

richie, richie, good fucking god, richie always picks the worst moments to bitch about.

“are you fucking with me?” carmen’s voice, again, a bit higher this time and just a gruff. doe eyes narrow at the bell-tower named richard jerimovich that has the audacity to look clueless, “do not fucking fuck with me right now.”

richie: shove that stick outta [fuck you] your ass, cousin carmen: are you deaf? richie: boutta go deaf if you keep yapping [don’t got time for this]; listen, i just [you just?] came to talk [talk? now? talk?] yes, to talk, look carmen: now you wanna talk? now? you wanna [jesus] fucking talk right now?

the tension in the air is sharp enough to slice through skin. everyone pointedly pretends not to hear this conversation. carmen doesn’t want to hear this conversation, either. there’s a line of people waiting. he reminds richie of that, and richie reminds that oh, he knows, and –

“richie!” it’s sydney, cheeks glowing with sweat and bandana crooked, “not now.”

richie huffs, looks at carmen with a certain exasperation, a wordless question of ‘really? really? you’re letting her run the show, now?’, and carmen needn’t be a genius to know that richie’s gonna bring this up later. he’ll never hear the end of it, he scarcely does now. it’s a headache in the making. his heart skips, or maybe stops, and for a moment he feels white-hot panic shoot through his veins. it passes with a shiver he doesn’t show. he breathes just a tad quicker – not enough air, not enough fucking air, jesus.

richie retreats with his arms raised in surrender, amused and annoyed simultaneously. a quiet follows his departure, and carmen looks at the staff, gaze jumping from one to the other before settling on her. she’s unperturbed by the chaos, working, watching, assessing, and later he’ll learn she wears that face the same way he wears his anger – as armor.

eyes meet and there’s a certain understanding that glimmers in the depths of her iris. but what could she understand? three weeks from now, he’ll come to learn that she’s used to rough edges and loud voices: he’ll learn that she’s the daughter of the chef that made his life hell back in new york, he’ll learn that she took up cooking because she wanted to appease her father, he’ll learn that her parents have split and her mother is sick and that she’s not calm but disconnected and that she tends to live in her head just like him.

but he doesn’t know that now, so he blames the shitty lighting that blinks and buzzes and, “fak, for the love of fucking god, please fix it.”

he said please this time, and it means he’s cooling off. he thankfully misses the quick look the staff shares – a mixture of relief and pity. either would have been devastating to recognize.

the only upside is that the day goes by fast. too much to do, too much to stress about, and carmen’s used to running on nothing but nicotine and adrenaline and an odd spout of desolation, and he manages everything, keeps the pieces glued together until eventually everything becomes too much and then he crumbles. still picks them up gently, like handling broken glass. he visits the storage often. closes the door for a moment and just lets himself breathe, reminds himself how to. doesn’t calm, only collects, reigns in the anger that coats loneliness. don’t think about mikey.

the staff cleans in a similar silence that douses after a storm.

the night's clear, crisp air compounded with cigarette smoke. he leans on the wall of the restaurant, staring into space, listening to the white noise of a restless city. by now, sydney has flipped the CLOSED sign; by now, his new hire is probably thinking about quitting, elbows deep in cleaning detergent as she scrubs the floor. he’ll have to go over her work and double-check. just in case there’s something more to do for hands that are always restless.

he tries to think but his head is scrambled. too many thoughts rushing in and out, loud, obnoxious, too quick to leave a lasting impact. he’s tired. he’s always tired. he wants lay on his bed and let sleep swallow him whole, but he knows that won’t happen. if he sleeps, he dreams of new york, he dreams of fire, he dreams of voices coming from the other room. one, in particular, holds a familiar rasp and drawl, punctuated by laugher, weaving a tale and stop it, don’t think about it anymore, just stop it, don’t think about –

he tosses the cigarette, watching the embers burn.

don’t think about mikey.

he enters through the back exit, stalks through the restaurant like he's haunting the place. briefly stops to stare at the mirror behind the bar. doesn't really recognize the man staring back.

the clock reads 00:30 am.

marcus was the last to leave, or so carmen assumed by the silence that shrouds the place, but as he makes his way to his office, he hears a locker shutting, and the sound rattles him so much his heart beats in his throat. all of that previous exhaustion ignites into anxiety that makes his limbs lock up.

she halts by the mouth of the kitchen, hair matted from sweat and lower lip marked where her teeth sunk, drooped eyes widening a fraction as she regards him. he can only stare at her in return, at her messy hair and pinched eyebrows and the slight downward curl of her lips.

“you could use a coffee,” she utters, and her voice is jarring – not for any unpleasant reason, but for the fact that he didn’t expect to hear it. he’ll grow to like it, crave it, even, because it’s a lovely cadence and it’ll sound even lovelier when she says his name.

he’s frightened by it now, if one can be scared of such a thing. so he bites.

“it’s almost 1 am.”

“right,” she mutters dryly.

“why are you still here?” he questions, and it almost sounds like an accusation, because he thought he was alone, only to suddenly be proved wrong. feels like an invasion of privacy, to be fucking honest, “your shift ended like an hour ago.”

“oh, I, uh, had some things to finish, so…” she trails off, but she still looks at him, and it’s unnerving, really, how she doesn’t budge under the weight of his stare. he bends under hers, though; the floor is spotless, he has nothing left to do. he misses the visible tension in her face, misses the quick swipe of her tongue on her lower lip as she opens and closes her mouth. it’ll take two whole weeks to grow entranced by the sight. misses the polite smile, too, but hears it in her voice anyway, “night.”

her sneakers squeak and echo and the door shuts. silence settles heavy on his shoulders. he’s not sure if he’s more distraught by her sudden appearance or abrupt departure. both somehow feel bad. in less than half a year, he’ll come to realize that the latter is worse.

ch.2: thank you, love you

#the bear #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy x reader #the bear imagine #imagine #imagines #reader #xreader #give him a moment he jacks off in chapter two #hes so pathetic i love him

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signedkoko · 6 months

Note

Hi hi!

How would Striker, Bee, and poly Stolitz (romantic) react to their chubby s/o being very physically strong and working out a lot?

No pressure to write this, and If you don't write for this many characters, you can choose who to focus on!

Sending lots of love your way 💚💛��

-🐻

Beelzebub | Blitzo & Stolas | Striker [Romantic]

In which you are considerably physically stronger than them, and work out plenty to match.

Naturally, all of the sins are extremely strong in comparison to any overlord or sinner

Even so, you were surprisingly up there, without her magic Beelzebub couldn't begin to carry half the weight you did, and usually had to resort to her larger form- or just asking for your help

It's part of why she found you so attractive, it felt like in some way you could protect her more than anyone she knew

A lot of the people around her were already small, so it was also nice that you compared to her in size, though she found you to be much more curvaceous than her own lanky figure

" Ugh. I'd kill for hips like these, babe. "

She loves to feel you up and down and hold you close because god, you are just sooo comfortable

And when you flex your muscles it drives her crazy! She thinks you're the hottest person she's ever met

She also may be partially to blame for your chubbiness, because she never stops feeding you sweets, oops!

Both of these fools are physically WEAK, however strong they might be with guns or magic

They recall their first encounter with you was when someone was making fun of Stolas for dating an imp, and you totally rocked their shit with a punch straight to the face

Blitzo is already on you, asking so many questions about who you were, why you did that, making jokes

And Stolas has a faint blush because god, that was so attractive

They kept inviting you over until eventually you were closer than most- present on every date, called by the same sweet nicknames

Stolas likes to go with you when you work out, he especially loves to see you boxing

Being able to cheer you on against an opponent, or imagine you protecting him- oh it was just so exciting

Blitzo enjoys walking around hell with you because he gets to see everyone fuck off

Scary dog privileges

Stolas is always squishing your cheeks and hugging you tightly while speaking of all his fantasies involving you both

Blitzo is sneaking pictures of you after workouts for his office

Stronger? Than him? Sure thing

Striker first heard it at a place he frequented for drinks, that there was a guard for hire poster put up on their bulletin, someone new

When he hired you to see what'd happen, you sweeped the floor of some royals security team in minutes, and all he had to do was pull the trigger

Admittedly, he didn't feel the need to work with you more than that, as he enjoyed the hunt as much as the kill

But it was certainly fun seeing what someone else pulled

He’s straightforward about that, but also admits that he'd like to keep in touch

OBVIOUSLY so he can hire you on tougher missions, not because he thought you were interesting or fun

Suddenly, he's always popping up in the places you go, always offering you a drink, always getting tipsy enough to invite you to dance

Oh yeah, he certainly wants you

Fortunately for him, you're his lovely significant other only a few weeks later

He enjoys practising sparing with you, though he usually loses with just strength to strength, hsi wits certainly make him a tougher opponent

Striker find your resolve fiery, and something about you ignites something in him that leaves him wanting more

Author's Note - Actually love these guys sm... good crew you chose bear non I respect it!

Also I CATCH all the love you sent my way and EAT IT 🖤

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #beelzebub #beelzebub x reader #stolas #stolas x reader #blitzo #blitzo x reader #striker #striker x reader

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1d1195 · 9 days

Text

Ding - Round 4

Read Ding here | ~4.7k words

Warnings: angst, fluff

From me: Sorry for the delay. Honestly, might be for the best. I know this is a little shorter but I think it will help spread out some of the plot points I have planned for parts 5 and part 6. I think it might be a little rush but I promise hope it will be worth it.

Summary: Cupcake wants a proper date. Harry wants a Cupcake for dessert.

Harry was fresh out of college when he took out a loan and bought the gym. It was a steal, an investment, and exactly what he wanted to do. He didn’t have a lot of staff—in fact, Harry taught a lot of classes, cleaned the showers and toilets as much as possible. He got Niall and Louis to help as well. Once he was settled a little more, he got his college roommate, Mitch and his girlfriend Sarah to help as well. His own little family. Niall managed it most of the time and while he still liked to teach classes and train with Louis, he hired a few more staff members (and honestly? Even though he hired a few custodians, he didn’t mind cleaning the bathroom every now and again). His family was his life and he tried to maintain a proper balance which required a certain number of employees.

But adding in the sweet girl that dinged his car threw him for a bit of a loop. A good loop.

Louis was insistent he focus more on his training. Any time not spent teaching classes or going over the paperwork in his office was spent training for his big fight. He was going to be boxing a guy from a few towns over; someone also undefeated. It was being publicized as their own state’s match of the century. Harry didn’t care truthfully about it. He just wanted to remain undefeated. Harry was competitive and he would rather never box again than lose his undefeated record. The added bonus of Driven getting more publicity wasn’t a bad part of the deal either.

Truthfully, the part where he might win $100,000 was also a bigger influence on him than he was willing to let on. The fame of the fight had sponsors and publicity, and more good stuff for him than he wanted to believe he could have.

Harry wanted to give his niece a substantial chunk of money to kickstart her college fund. But even still, he would have plenty to give her and then he would consider, finally, purchasing a house—which seemed silly because he nearly lived at Driven and if he wasn’t at Driven, he was at his mum’s...or Gemma’s with the baby.

But that pretty girl with an apron and sprinkles had him thinking about all kinds of future things. Like a house with a fence. A garden that they could have picnics in during the summer with a dog that needed to be walked two times a day but didn’t mind lounging with them among the flowers while they read. A massive kitchen where she would bake cupcakes for their little ones when they had birthday parties and—

No, he just wanted to win.

Maybe if he had lost at some point in his career he would have felt differently. But the “0” in the loss column made him cocky. He was good, and he knew it. Harry was smiling at his phone, a picture of his sweet niece smiling for the camera while he went over the bills for the current month. There was a knock right outside his office.

“Hey,” Niall smirked. “Your class is about to begin.” Harry was dreading it. They had chatted a lot more and gotten a lot closer than they previously were, but the class made him irrationally angry. Maybe it was the space and just knowing why she was there, that had him so grumpy. “Thought you would want to see her,” Niall murmured when he didn’t respond and also looked like someone pissed in his cereal.

He sighed, putting the bills into a folder for later. He thought about taking them home and dealing with them while he watched a show before bed. Since he’d been teaching her self-defense moves, he found himself riled and angrier than normal—especially after her class. It made it difficult to focus on bills and his calendar when she was there feeling unsafe. “Course I want t’see her,” he mumbled.

Harry stepped out of his office and headed to the room with Louis. She and Louis stood close together speaking quietly, like two old friends. She was smiling brightly, looking adorable as ever. Her T-shirt was bright blue. It said A Pinch of Sprinkles across the back and was littered with sprinkles like rain over the design. Louis caught Harry’s eye and then tilted his head toward him. She turned to face him. It was like a reflex and her smile was so bright, Harry couldn’t help but feel better than he did when Niall alerted him about the class. He felt all the anxiety and frustration leave his body and he headed over to her.

“Hey, Cupcake,” he put a hand on her arm gently giving it a friendly squeeze. “How was your day?” He asked.

She smiled in return. “Good, relaxing. I went to visit my dad.”

He thought so. He may or may not have spent his lunch hour being creepy and noted that her car wasn’t in the parking lot near A Pinch of Sprinkles. Nor was it there when he drove by in the morning on his way to the gym...and if he ran his four-mile cardio workout outside rather than on the treadmill to see her car still wasn’t there right around the four o’clock shift change then who would really know?

“S’nice,” he smiled. “How is he?” He asked.

She hesitated ever so slightly that if Harry wasn’t so focused on her, he might not have noticed. But before he could ask more about it, she simply nodded. “Good,” she offered. Harry needed to remember to circle back to that when they were alone. He wanted to know more about her family and why she seemed so guarded at times.

Which reminded him of what he really wanted to talk to her about. “Hey, Cupcake, would you want to—”

“Alright, let’s get started everybody!”

Harry was looking forward to “accidentally” punching Louis tomorrow during his training session. He sighed. “Stay a minute after class?” Harry asked and headed toward the front of the room.

“Since this is the second to last class, we always offer to have a bit of a celebratory send off the final class if you are interested,” Louis said knowingly. Harry was looking at the floor, then picked the lint off his pants. The grumpiness he felt with Niall returned rapidly. There seemed to be a long pause while the group decided if they wanted to celebrate next week. “Oh, thank God, love,” Louis sighed causing everyone to laugh. “You don’t want Harry or I baking for the masses.”

“I can make cupcakes,” she promised with a giggle.

Harry looked up realizing she was offering her kindness to a bunch of strangers, bonded through their own traumas and the need to feel empowered because of it. His lips curled into a smile. Even though he was still a bit frustrated. It was kind of her to offer. He wasn’t surprised. Someone that worked with sugar that much had to be sweet.

“Can you make the chocolate chip ones?” Someone asked.

“The blueberry lemon ones are my favorite, it’s a shame they’re a summer flavor.”

“I can...” she laughed lightly, and Harry felt so warmed by the sound; all the frustration he felt melting off him. “I can make a list before we leave.”

Harry truly thought there was no one sweeter.

It killed him she was in this class learning to protect herself. Especially now that he knew why. But as mad as it made him, he was so happy to see her. Having her in the class was just more time he got to look at her and note how beautiful she was. Her strength, her resilience, all these qualities he instantly admired as he got to know her more and more. That first night where she dented Clay seemed like ages ago, not months. He was wound around her finger, and he didn’t care.

They went through the moves they learned the weeks prior and discussed more scenarios. Harry had Louis help her more when she needed it. Frankly, it was too hard for him to do it without getting irrationally angry. “You want t’make sure you’re continuing t’practice these moves even after the lessons end,” Harry told the group as their time was ending for the night.

“So, we should be fighting our significant others over the dishes?” Someone called from the back of the room. It caused everyone to laugh once more, and Harry chuckled.

“No, not what I would suggest,” he snickered and even though there were at least fifteen other people in the room, Harry could pick out her giggle among everyone else’s.

“We’ve discussed a lot of reflexive moves and how a lot of the fight back instincts that take over don’t always help you get away,” Louis continued. Harry’s face returned to its neutral position. Although if she was asked, it was one of the sourest expressions she saw on him. But she was intently listening to Louis repeat the spiel once more. “Remember that’s your goal: to get away and find help as quickly as you can and as safely as you can.”

Harry didn’t dare look at her.

She stood next to Sarah’s desk taking down orders for their celebration the next week. It was a long list. Harry wasn’t a baker nor the owner of a bakery, but he knew that if they came to her store, it would have cost a pretty penny to sell all that was listed on her slip of paper.

“I can pay for it,” Harry offered coming to stand in front of her.

“Oh God, no. Don’t you dare,” she smiled and shook her head. “You’ve made all of us feel so safe and so empowered. It’s the least I can do—besides, it’s almost blueberry lemon season so I need to practice anyway,” her shrug was casual as she crossed out different parts of her list and added tallies to the other parts. “Maeve and I can handle it. I usually end up giving the leftovers to a homeless shelter anyway, or the nearby nursing home.”

Harry wondered if she was magic. Made of flour and sugar herself that was dipped into all her treats at that bakery and decorated with a pinch of sprinkles. There was simply no one as sweet as her. He was certain.

She watched as Harry’s eyes softened around the edges as she spoke. It felt warm and nice to look at Harry so intensely. He was so handsome and so kind to her. No one had made her feel so safe in ages. Not even Louis who propped her hands and feet into their proper positions and told her how to execute a stomp to someone’s instep.

“Cupcake, do you want to—”

“I’m sorry, Harry, one second,” she held her hand up toward him and turned her attention to a girl from their class. “Did you say Jack?” She asked.

Harry tilted his head curiously but watched as the recognition on the girl’s face blinked in surprise. “Uh...yeah?” She held her phone out to show a picture. Harry watched as her whole body stiffened and she glanced away. “Why?”

She bit the inside of her lip. “Look, I don’t want to prevent you from having a nice time, but he tried to force me back to his place. I would feel horribly guilty if I didn’t tell you. Maybe it was just a me thing. But I think I would like to know ahead of time. He’s why I’m here, taking lessons,” she looked at her pleadingly. “One girl to another,” she offered. “That’s all I want to say. I’ll mind my business now.”

The girl looked back and forth at her then the phone curiously. Her friend was silent.

Harry was shaking again. His hands clenched into fists. He saw the picture of him. He tried to place him in her bakery the other day and couldn’t identify where he was. Harry stalked off toward the back room without another word to her or the other ladies.

His focus was on making his way for the punching bag as quickly as he could to release the stress and anger he felt. He didn’t get to hear the rest of the conversation, nor did he want to. He hoped that girl took her advice and didn’t go out with him. It would serve that sorry excuse for a man right, and of course, most importantly, keep her safe. Harry would lose his mind if he found out he hurt someone else the way he hurt his sweet sprinkle girl.

His breath was a series of uneven pants. Not the regulated breathing he practiced while he trained with Louis. His emotions and frustrations clouded his head taking over instinctively. When he finally ran out of breath with one final punch he stopped, held the punching bag, and rested his forehead against it trying to relax his breathing.

Softly, she cleared her throat. Harry blinked, his eyes opened and turned to the sound. “Sorry,” she whispered. He steadied the swaying bag and looked at her, his eyes intense and as focused on her as ever. “I know you...” she sighed. “I had to tell her.”

He nodded. “I know.”

She paused awkwardly standing in the doorway. “I’m okay,” she offered. “Actually... I’ve learned at least five ways to incapacitate you to get to the front and tell Sarah to call 911,” she smiled weakly hoping it would make him smile.

It didn’t.

Biting the inside of her lip, she felt a wave of anxiety come over her. He was too mad right now. She should have just left. “Do you want the raspberry filled?” He continued to stare at her. Unspeaking, unmoving. Her heart felt sad that he didn’t want to talk to her any longer. “Um... okay... I guess... I’ll see you around, then, Harry.”

It felt like he was holding his breath until that moment and then released it as if all the air in his lungs had been there since the day, he met her and whooshed out of him for a good thirty seconds. “Cupcake,” he murmured running a hand over his face. She turned back, stood far away from him as she could without being in the other room. “I’ve been trying t’ask you on a date all night—well, for days really. And... s’jus’ not the right time—never the right time. We keep getting pulled into other conversations. Or training or your timers for cookies. Then m’mad or m’tired or—”

“Yes,” she whispered.

Harry stopped speaking. This time he thought he had stopped breathing altogether. “Yes, what?” He asked.

“I would love to go on a date with you,” she answered. Her cheeks were pink—he could see how flushed she was by the concept.

“You would?”

“I’m glad you’ve been doing the repeating lately,” she smiled.

“Are you sure, Cupcake?” He ignored her joke. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable; and I know I’ve been a lot... Plus your last—”

She closed the space between the two of them and pressed her lips to his cheek. He tasted like salt from the sweat that poured over him throughout the day. He was in desperate need of a shower. “I would really like to go out with you, Harry,” she repeated softly. “Whenever you want.”

Harry swore his heart skipped a beat. “Yeah?”

She nodded, still smiling. “I would really like that,” she promised. Harry sighed with relief.

“Tomorrow? I’d like to take you t’dinner,” he offered.

She nodded. “I would also like that,” it was the happiest she ever felt in her whole life.

The guilt of it was overwhelming.

“Good night, kitten,” he cooed softly.

“Night, Harry,” she headed for the door again. Harry watched, smiling after her as she turned in the doorway. She leaned against it, her hand pressed to the frame, and she tilted her head against it. “You’re going to kiss me, right? After our proper date?”

Her smile was so pretty, Harry felt light-headed. “I hope so, Cupcake.”

Harry did kiss her.

In fact, he kissed her so much they didn’t even have dinner at the restaurant. He could hardly stand how pretty she looked he couldn’t leave her doorway when she opened it. She had spent the better part of an hour fixing her hair into a perfect style rather than the stringy, rainy mess he saw the day he met her. Or the way her hair was almost always up and out of her face to deal with baked goods. She put on extra makeup too. She felt beautiful—but Harry’s reaction made her feel... gorgeous.

He put a hand over his heart and smiled, stepping back a pace to take in how beautiful she looked. She laughed at his dramatics. “Wow,” he tapped his hand over his heart. “I thought y’were beautiful with the apron and sprinkles.” She laughed; her pretty cheeks turned pink. He put his hand against the top of the doorframe and leaned in toward her. “M’not going t’make it through dinner, Cupcake,” he shook his head. “Can I kiss you now?” His eyes were soft.

“Now?” She whispered back.

He nodded his eyes focused on her lips. “Repeating again?”

“What about dinner?”

“I’ll take y’after.”

Honestly, she didn’t think there would be an after if they didn’t go now. Harry looked unbelievably good. He wore a pair of dress pants and she had only ever seen him in sweats and shorts. Those did things to her heart that she didn’t know the dress pants would do. His button down was tucked into his pants, and he looked like he was ready for an interview. He was so handsome.

“I’m pretty hungry now,” she told him, her eyes dancing flirtatiously.

“Me too,” he answered and leaned closer. His forehead rested against hers. She could feel the exhale of his breath against her skin. “May I kiss you, Cupcake?” He asked. She nodded breathlessly. He shook his head. Rested a hand on her waist and pulled her closer to him. “You have t’say it, kitten,” he encouraged softly. “M’not messing around with this,” he assured her. “I’ll give y’anything y’want, but y’have t’say it,” his voice was so gravelly and low she felt it in every inch of her nervous system. She shivered involuntarily and nodded again.

“Please kiss me,” she whispered so quietly he barely heard her.

But he did hear her. Harry would give her anything she wanted so he pressed his mouth over hers, and it felt like he was supposed to kiss her. The way her lips felt against his, the exhale of her breath against his skin. It all felt so perfect. His hands rested on her hips, and he tugged her closer to him, so she pressed snuggly against his body. Her hands came up to the sides of his neck, her fingertips curling to the back of his head and sliding into his hair.

“Your hair is so soft,” she whispered when they broke apart for air. Harry chuckled and kissed her again, his lips slotting between hers and he brought an arm around her back leaning toward her, so she tilted back just so slightly. “Can we go inside?” She whispered.

“Do you want me inside?” He asked against her lips.

She nodded quickly. “Very much.” Harry didn’t break from her lips to push her inside the doorway. She slipped out of her shoes; shoes Harry didn’t even get to look at because he was so distracted by how much he wanted to kiss her he couldn’t take in the rest of her and how pretty she looked. He took a moment now to note her dress, all black with some buttons and a tie sinched around her waist. It fell to just below her knee but left room through the slit for him to see part of her thigh.

She was stunning.

“God, Cupcake, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured went back to kissing her. His hands roamed over her waist making her insides turn to mush wherever he touched her. She shivered again letting her tongue run over his lower lip as he kissed her. He groaned into her mouth. Her hands held onto his belt loops, tugging him closer to her. She could feel the way their kiss was affecting him. It made her want more to feel his arousal.

“Can I...?” She swallowed pulling from his lips and her hand started for the front of his pants.

“Oh fuck,” he croaked.

“I...” she looked at him nervously. He made consent sound so sexy but she felt stupid for asking.

“Yes,” he nodded firmly. “Whatever y’want, Cupcake, m’all yours.”

For whatever reason she thought of Niall saying how Harry was whipped for her when they hardly knew each other. He called Harry her boyfriend and now she wanted to take his belt off and rip his pants off.

Was it too fast? She didn’t let Jack take her home and she knew him about as much as she knew Harry at the time. Was she overreacting? How could he ruin this moment even though...? How come—

“Cupcake?” Harry asked quickly. “Y’okay there, sweetheart?” He asked softly. She blinked in surprise, realizing she spaced out as her thoughts reeled. Harry was holding her face gently. “D’you want to stop?” His pants were unzipped and unbuttoned—she didn’t even realize she had done that. Her fingers tucked into his beltloops once more, ready to pull them down further. The Calvin Klein band poked out from his shirt and the shift of his pants falling lower on his hips. Harry was staring at her nervously. Her gaze was blank as she looked back at him; as if she was unsure of her own actions. “Kitten?” he repeated and removed his hands from her face. He tugged her fingers loose of his loops. “Can y’talk t’me please?” He asked, separating them a bit more. He pulled his pants back up, zipped and buttoned them. “You’re making me nervous, Cupcake...” he trailed off eyeing her uncertainly.

Her heart felt sad for him. He was so gentle, so nice, so careful. He steered her to the couch, putting space between the two of them. The only part of him that touched her was his knee bumping into hers. “Sorry,” she whispered, finally.

Relief rushed through him at the sound of her voice. “There’s nothing t’apologize for, Cupcake,” he promised reassuringly.

“But you’re—” Her eyes looked at the bulge against the zipper of his pants. He shrugged.

“S’not important.”

She disagreed strongly. That bulge nearly made her mouth water but as much as she needed her brain to focus on it, her mind had other ideas. “I just... need a minute,” she leaned back against the sofa and sighed. She stared at the ceiling, her hands covering her face. Harry was hot. He was so kind. His lips tasted like sunflower oil—perhaps it was his chapstick. He smelled so good and looked so good. It was unfair that someone from nearly a month ago could continue to ruin her date.

“You can have all the time in the world, Cupcake,” he continued to assure her so soothingly, it made her heart melt. “Did I do something—”

“No,” she shook her head and looked him straight in the eye. “You didn’t do anything,” she promised.

He sighed with relief and leaned back beside her and smiled. “Good,” he draped an arm along behind her head across the back of the couch and kissed her temple. “Take your time, Cupcake. M’not going anywhere.”

She swallowed hard, the lump in her throat trying to break her esophagus open wide. “He ruined it,” she whispered.

“Ruined what, sweetheart?” Harry’s voice was so soft. Like the way it felt to snuggle in bed on Christmas Eve when she was little. It was so comforting. It made her feel safe. She sniffled and turned her face away from where Harry was.

“Our first date.”

“No, he didn’t,” his voice was still soft, but the tone was firm. He was certain when she very much wasn’t.

“But I want to—”

“I know, Cupcake.”

“Don’t you want to?”

“Do I want t’have sex with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met before we go to dinner?” He asked bluntly. “No, sounds like a terrible waste of m’time.”

She blushed, closed her eyes; still turned away from him. “I don’t know who this most ‘beautiful woman’ is you’re talking about. I just see a snively baby.”

He snorted. Gently he coaxed her to turn her around and look at him again. His expression was still gentle, and she was sure he wanted to be mad. She wondered what kind of self-control that took. Maybe it was the Oxytocin covering for him.

“Show me,” he murmured.

“Show you?” She repeated.

Harry smiled. “Practice.”

“Practice what—oh. Oh,” she looked at him in confusion. “You want me to practice my self-defense moves?”

“I like when y’repeat me,” his eyes were warm, smiley on their own.

“I’m wearing a dress.”

“Look, I could say m’dying t’know what’s under your dress if that will make y’feel better.”

“Harry!”

He pushed off the sofa and moved the coffee table toward the side of the room. He grabbed her hands pulling her up, so she was standing in front of him.

“Well, t’be really honest, Cupcake. You’re not going t’have much say in the matter of what you’re wearing if y’need t’use the moves,” he reminded her gently, he cupped the side of her face and looked into her eyes as if his life depended on it. She gulped in response. He was so intense. It made her forget every one of the moves she was supposed to practice. “C’mon, it’ll make you feel better...and me, honestly.”

“You?” She questioned.

He didn’t even comment that she repeated him. “Want t’know you’re safe, Cupcake,” he skimmed his thumb along her cheek. “Always.” She grabbed his hand against her cheek and smiled at him.

Then swiftly she pulled his arm behind his back and twisted it up. He chuckled peering at her over his shoulder. “Good. Again.”

After a while of practicing her moves, Harry ordered pizza. He took his jacket off and described a series of moves she could try that she hadn’t learned in the class. She took them seriously; the little pucker of her brow made her so adorable—Harry wanted to kiss her.

“Let me make brownies,” she offered heading to the kitchen and mixed the ingredients within minutes of opening her cabinets. It took maybe ten minutes and soon her place smelled like brownies. Once the pizza was delivered, she pulled out seltzers that Maeve left behind after a girls’ night in. She put on a reality show about baking that she watched two years ago when she was sick with the flu. “The cake challenge is my favorite part,” she told him.

Harry had his arm around her, her body slumped into his embrace, and she snuggled deeply against him. He was so happy to be curled up on the couch with her. It was like they had watched TV together for their whole lives. Had been spending date nights in for twenty years. It made him unbelievably at ease.

Eventually, without realizing, they fell asleep on the sofa. Harry woke up with a slight strain in his neck that he was certain Louis would be pissed about, but the sight of her sleeping beside him made him smile. He scooped her into his arms and carried her toward the bedroom. “Are you kidnapping me?” She yawned.

He chuckled, kissed her temple. “No, Cupcake. Putting you on the bed. Want you t’be comfortable. I’ll go back on the sofa.”

“You don’t want to sleep with me?” She pouted.

He chuckled. “I do,” he promised. “Do you want me to sleep with you?”

She nodded. “Do you have to work tomorrow?”

“No,” he shrugged. “Do you?”

She shook her head. “Do you want to stay here?”

“Always, Cupcake. Always.”

taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals

@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams

@summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland

@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

@kissinthekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @indierockgirrl

@michellekstyles @just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter @whimsy-willows

@hannah9921 @fangirl7060

ding: @ell0ra-br3kk3r

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

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inkskinned · 5 months

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i think a lot about exactly 1 thing from the roman empire: the concept of bread and circus. the idea was that if your population was fed and entertained, they wouldn't revolt. you are asking us to give up our one small life, is the thing - for under 15 dollars an hour.

what would that buy, even. i am trading weekends and late nights and my back health. i am trading slow mornings and long walks and cortisol levels. i am trading sleep and silence and peace. for ... this. for what barely-covers-rent.

life really is more expensive right now. you aren't making that up. i make almost 3 times what i did 5 years ago, and despite an incredibly equal series of bills - i am still struggling. the most expensive line item i added was to own a dog. the money is just evaporating.

we were okay with it because it's a cost-benefit analysis. i could handle the customer harassment and standing all day and the manager's constantly changing temperament - i was coming home to hope, and my life planned in a blue envelope. three hours would buy me my dog's food for a month. i can give up three hours for him, for his shiny coat and wide, happy mouth. three days could be a new mattress, if i was thrifty. if i really scrimped and saved, we could maybe afford a trip into the city.

recently i cried in the car about the price of groceries.

business majors will be mad at me, but my most inflammatory opinion is that people should never be valued at the same place as products. your staff should not be a series of numbers in an excel sheet that you can just "replace" whenever you need something at that moment. your staff should be people, end of sentence.

it feels like someone somewhere is playing a very bad video game. like my life is a toy. like someone opened an app on their phone and hired me in diner dash ultra. they don't need to pay me well or treat me alright - they can always just show me the door. there is always someone more desperate, always someone more willing.

but i go to work and know i could save for years and not afford housing. i am never going to own my own home, most likely. i have no idea how to afford her ring, much less the wedding. my dog doesn't have his own yard. everything i love is on subscription. if i lose my job, i have no "nest egg" to catch my falling.

this thin life - they want me to give up summer for it. to open my mouth and throat and swallow the horrible hours and counted keystrokes. they want me to give up mountains and any non-federal holiday. to give up snow days. to give up talking to my mom whenever i want. to give up visiting the ocean and hearing the waves.

bread and circus worked for a while, actually. it was the kind of plan that would probably now be denounced by republicans as socialist commie liberal pronoun bullshit.

but sometimes i wonder if we should point them to the part of the history book that says: it worked until it didn't.

#spilled ink #warm up #writeblr #i have a good job please shut the fuck up before telling me to get a better job #girl i have vision and dental.#if u blame the victim that's wild. do u know about economic systems

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queersolarfandompage · 5 months

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Hilson Masterlist:

A bunch of fics I’ve read in the last month, month and a half. All works are completed and over 9,000 words per fic.

My Love’s an Arbutus - Rated G

House gets a soulmate, WIlson gets Hanahaki. It ends suprisingly well for both of them.

Handle with Care - Rated G

This is the story of how James Wilson ended up on his best friends doorstep with a baby in a carseat he’d stolen from the maternity ward, and the chaos that followed.

A Thousand Teeth (And Yours Amoung Them) - Rated T

Sometimes, when House gets too overwhelmed by his emotions, he gets a little bitey. This is five times House bites Wilson, and one time Wilson finally bites him back.

Systemic - Rated T

Ever since Wilson moved in, House has presented with some inexplicable symptoms. Fortunately, he has a team of talented doctors to aid him with his diagnosis.

Touch Therapy - Rated T

It’s not that House needs the human contact. It’s just that when you’re sharing an apartment, these things happen sometimes.

I Never Sleep With Married Men - Rated T

House and Wilson are married. It’s not what you think.

Double or Nothing - Rated T

House kisses Wilson’s cheek as part of an ‘act’, it feels too natural to him, so, of course, he has to turn it all into a game, Wilson catches up pretty quickly. The duckings try to not get scarred for life.

The Line of Thought - Rated T

Cameron, Foreman, and Chase keep on trying to get into the little details of House’s love life. House doesn’t like that one bit.

In the Eye of the Storm - Rated T

House does not want Wilson to invite his subordinates over for dinner, and he definitely doesn’t want them to be stuck there due to an unexpected snowstorm. But could the two of them find what they need?

Drew Stars Around my Scars - Rated T

James Wilson loves Gregory House in secret, but perhaps he is closer to knowing than he realizes.

Oreos, a Cane, and a Hell of a Lot of Diapers - Rated T

Hilson AU in which House and Wilson are waiting for the birth of their two babies. Watch them survive their first few weeks of parenthood along with the struggles it takes to be a parent.

Impossible - Rated T

“Wilson, hey-“

“…This is James Wilson. I can’t get to the phone right now, but if you leave a message, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

Oh.

There was a long, sustained tone, and House cleared his throat.

“Wilson. I’m sorry for what I said to you in January. It was over the line, and I shouldn’t have gone there in the first place. I know you don’t want to talk to me, and… I’ll respect that. I just wanted you to know that I’m…”

He looked down at the flowers.

“I’m sorry.”

House and Wilson both have Hanahaki Disease, and would rather die than give up their feelings.

No Need to Worry (Making Up Your Mind) - Rated T

House makes the mistake of telling his mother he can’t join her for Christmas because of his new boyfriend. Somehow, this becomes Wilson’s problem.

Something to Prove Series - Rated T

Something to Prove

When House suddenly want to initiate a relationship with Wilson, Wilson is overjoyed. The feelings he’d held for years are finally mutual. Or are they?

Marathons

House and Wilson decide to let the other people in their lives in on the fact that they’re dating. But no, they can’t just sit them down and tell them. Of course not. That would be too boring.

After School - Rated T

Gregory House is incredibly bored with his life when James Wilson is hired to teach Anatomy & Physiology alongside him at Princeton Plainsboro High School. Though he wants to maintain that same monotony he’s grown comfortable with, House quickly finds out that one school year can change a lot.

Life’s Harsh and Sweet Lessons - Rated T

House and Wilson find out that a simple act of kindness can turn into something so much more for all involved. (I love this fic so much. They’re just gay dog dads.)

Losing Balance - Rated T

There’s a new case for House, in which Wilson gets stuck by chance. The relationship between the patiend and his best friend brings up new issues House and Wilson have to deal with. While the first simply chooses to ignore them, the second is forced to face the changes in their friendship and the influence that the people around them have on it.

Gaseous Nebula - Rated T

After a hard day at work, House and Wilson intend to spend their evening watching the Princeton Philharmonic Orchestra. Instead, the building collapses, leaving on of them trapped in peril and the other desperate for answeres. The chaos drives them to revelations about themselves and each other, but it may be too late.

Ship of Fools - Rated M

The Captain’s a tyrant and possibly a madman, but when the crew rebels it’s Wilson who gets caught in the crossfire.

Bait and Switch - Rated M

Wilson tricks House into participating in a bachelor auction to benefit the hospital.

Fool’s Gold - Rated M

Don’t threaten what isn’t yours. (Dragon AU)

Old Machines - Rated M

Wilson said, “So we’re just two friends who want to have sex with each other, who aren’t going to do anything about it.”

Spoken with the increduility of a beautiful person with low impulse control. House shrugged.

“We’ve been that for years. Why mess with success?”

Wilson was looking at his mouth. He sounded strained. “I don’t think what we’re doing qualifies as success.”

Not as Easy as it Looks on TV - Rated M

House and Wilson share an intimate moment. the likes of which Wilson had never seen before in their three year relationship. It drives Wilson to realize he wants to marry House, but of course it’s never that easy, is it?

That’s How Strong My Love Is - Rated M

For once, Wilson doesn’t fall into a relationship, much to House’s irritataion.

Fresh Feeling - Rated M

House is tricked into going on a team-building trip with his colleagues. He does far more bonding with Wilson than anyone else.

Love Is The Drug - Rated M

What happens when two best friends love each other to the point of hating each other? They try to date and sulk about it.

The More It Took Away - Rated E

House has been hiding this little secret of his for years. Too bad it’s coming back to bite him on the ass.

The Escalated Butt Dial - Rated E

He thinks it must be an accident. Because all he hears is shuffling and soft… clapping? He’s about to hang up and laugh because House butt-dialed him while drunk when he hears it.

A very, very obviously sexual grunt. A moan, if more specific. Whatever. Not whatever. He can’t really breath right now, or think; call back laterr.

He wants to hang up. This is an invasion of privacy. This isn’t okay. House butt-dialed him while masurbating, for fuck’s sake. And it’s not like he wants to listen. Right? So. Just hang up.

The One-Eyed King Takes All - Rated E

The classic crew plays strip poker.

You’re the Only One That Never Gets Old Series - Rated E

You’re the Only One That Never Gets Old

An accidental kiss… and a few taht are not so accidental.

Let’s Take A Breath (Before We Go, Go, Go)

House kisses Wilson to piss off an homophobic patient. It might ahve been his best idea yet.

Keep Me Where the Light Is - Rated E

House has his Earth shattering, (good) knee weakening, life changing revelation about Wilson at such an inopporune time, that he’s tempted to laugh. He would have, if he hadn’t been hands deep in his patient’s organs.

Absinthe - Rated E

Wilson wants a new apartment, House is up to no good, and strange metaphors abound.

Experimental Procedures - Rated E

An offhand comment leads Wilson to test out some unusual methods of pain relief for House. (They’re extremely effective.)

Familiarity (Breeds Contempt) - Rated E

House and Wilson stumble into a relationship, but they run into problems before long.

Around We Go Once More - Rated E

Stuck in a small university town out of the country with Wilson, House is up to day 104, of a ‘grounghog day’ style constatly recurring day scenario. Seeing as the day will repeat, he figures it would be safe to try and seduce Wilson; the one he’s always been attracted to, but never acted on it, for fear it would ‘ruin the friendship.’ This is not as easy as he planned, particularly as Wilson refuses to take him seriously.

Stay With Me - Rated E

House has always depended on Wilson’s friendship, but now he finds himself depending on him for his very life - and Wilson realizes that both mean more to him than he ever realized.

I’ll See You In Court - Rated E

Every year, the council chooses ten alphas to participate in the breeding run — this year Wilson has been chosen. He’ll be forced to bond with whichever omega he knocks up whilst he’s in heat. When House hears, he’s forced to take action. There’s only one way to get pulled from the yearly run, and taht’s to file an intent to bond. And in order to file an intent to bond, you need an omega willing to go through with it.

There’s only a week until Wilson’s heat, but luckily, House knows just the omega for the job.

Things That Go Bump - Rated E

Wilson has nightmares. House gets a headache. Everyone tries to diagnose just what’s going on between them.

If He Spends That Dough (Imma Throw Him a Bone) - Rated E

James Wilson loves to feel needed, so who is hOuse to refuse him?

Money, sex, and love is all you need. In that order.

Howler Tone - Rated E

The calls always happen late at night, and they’re extremely sporadic, with weeks, sometimes months bridging between them. They talk on the phone otherwise, of course; about patients, or dinner plans, or carpooling. Typical stuff. But the calls that always end a certain way always start a certain way.

House develops a new vice. Wilson, as always, enables him.

He Won’t Tell You That He Loves You - Rated E

In which Nolan pulls at the Wilson thread, and House can’t stop it all from unraveling. Repression is a hell of a drug.

A Valuable Friend - Rated E

Wilson has been recieving mysterious late night phone calls. He’s rather House kept his nose out of it - but we all know how well that goes.

Baby Mikey - Rated E

House gets a visitor that will change his life, while Wilson struggles to figure out exactly who he is and where he fits into House’s new life.

Buy Some Time, It’s On My Dime - Rated E

The one where House is a phone sex operator.

You’re So Fuckin’ Special (Run) - Rated E

It was full of pictures.

And all of them are of Wilson.

In Every Lie, In Every Truth That You’d Deny - Rated E

Wilson just needs someone to take care of while he recovers from yet another divorce. That’s all this is.

Ath least, that’s what House thinks.

A Patient’s Guide to Living with ICS - Rated E

House and Wilson share a hotel room at a medical conference.

Hooked (On Feeling Low) - Rated E

There are things even House cannot control.

Can Wilson continue picking up the pieces?

A Modest Proposal - Rated E

Tritter’s case agianst House still depends on subpoenaeded testimony from Wilson. To save House from losing everything, the doctors of PPTH decide on an unusal solution, which in turn leads to unexpected consequences. This is a story about the sacrifices we make that turn out not to be such great sacrifices after all.

Silk, Lace, and Satin Bows - Rated E

“What’re those,” House lilted, taking a firmer hold on the blanket and tugging, even as Wilson cluched the blanket to his chest, his eyse impossibly wide as he shook his head.

“It’s nothing,” Wilson gritted out, cheeks flushing hotly. “I just… I borrowed some underwear from Sam. It’s nothing. Just get out, House,” the younger man hissed, clutching the blanket more firmly to his chest.

The Marrying Kind - Rated E

The one where House is a wedding planner and Wilson keeps on getting married.

TGIF - Rated E

House is stuck living the same Friday over and over and over and over again. A Groundhog Day AU with a medical mystery, the pursuit of true love, and egregious references to Bill Murray and Andie MacDowell.

Correlation Does Not Equal Causation - Rated E

“This… this hasn’t happened before.”

“Most people say that in the opposite situation.”

Alternatively titled: Wilson Doesn’t Actually Have Whiskey Dick

Don’t mind me just adding another fic here.

Grin and Bear It - Rated E

In a world where soulmates can feel each other’s pain, Wilson had always grown up wondering if he really had a soulmate. Sure, he could feel the occasional twinge like that of a bruise or cut without actually seeing one, but he had always chalked those up to random aches and pains that everybody got.

Wilson would keep this mindset until both he and House begin feeling agonizing leg pain, and a realization dawning from it causes Wilson’s entire life and well-being to change forever.

I’m always looking for new Fics so if there’s a fic you think is missing from this list, let me know and I’ll check it out!

#house md #hilson #james wilson #malpractice md #medical malpractice #greg house #gregory house #hate crimes md #house #fanfic #masterlist

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omgthatdress · 4 months

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Ray Bourbon was one of the most popular vaudeville performers of the 1930s, performing both as a drag queen and as a regular comedian. He was a frequent collaborator with Mae West, having starred in both Sex and The Pleasure Man, and regularly appeared on tour with her. In 1949, he performed his act Don't Call Me Madame: A Midnight Revue at Carnegie Hall.

The 1950s, more and more laws began restricting drag performances, and he was arrested several times. Taking a note from Christine Jorgensen, Bourbon made the claim that he'd undergone gender reassignment surgery, and changed his name to the feminine Rae.

He built a whole comedic album around his "operation," which you can listen to here.

Bourbon's act didn't age terribly well into the 1960s. A new political gay rights movement based on respectability was underway, and Bourbon's swishy stereotype was at odds with it. Along with that, with the sexual and cultural changes of the 1960s, his act just wasn't that outrageous and shocking anymore.

Everything came to an abrupt and bizarre end when he was arrested and charged as an accessory to murder. Bourbon had been traveling across the country in a junky old car with a trailer carrying about 70 dogs towing behind it. After losing his car to a fire, Bourbon sent his dogs to the nearby Blount's Kennels, where he left them for several months. When he finally had the money to buy a new car and to bail out his "children," the owner of the kennel informed him that his pets had been given away. It's not clear exactly what happened to them, but Bourbon took it to mean that his dogs had been sold to a chemical company to be used in experiments.

Bourbon hired two young men to go look into the matter, to find out where his dogs were, and to rough up Blount. They killed him, instead. Bourbon plead not guilty, but was still convicted and sentenced to ninety-nine years in prison. He died there in 1977.

#history of drag #drag #gay #queer #lgbt #gay history #queer history #lgbt history

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heartfullofleeches · 10 months

Text

Mad Scientist Darling + Frankenstein Dog Hybrid Yans - A recluse who's lost many companions over the decades. They haven't the time to shed a tear to the tragedy or the heart to do so either. Their main stick up over their loses was the lack of security to do their work without prying eyes and ears.

"We've seen you down at the cemetery again, Y/n." "Your science is a crime against God, Y/n." "Their body hadn't even frozen over before you took it." What headaches. They had fewer problems when their hounds were alive. Next to zero really with their loyal pets ready to snap at anyone who so much as raised their voice at their master. Sweet angels with their caretaker's safety at heart - god rest their souls. Unfortunately, after their deaths the scientist was unable to purchase more as they had been banned from all pet stores despite never using animals in their research before. Hypocrites.

They couldn't hire any human guards since they'd stab them in the back at the first sihn of greater opportunity. Alone in their study, the scientist had an epiphany. They could have the muscle and brawn of humans, and the loyalty of their hounds by simply merging the too. They weren't a genius for nothing.

A few trips to the local cemetery and morgue here. Some stitches and coding there. Sweat, tears, and more litters of blood than a person should legally be in possession of - and the scientist had their hounds back again. They were alot bigger and definitely more talkative, but they were still the same old loyal pets they once knew. There was one problem however. The hounds seemed to remember alot more of their pasts than intended - yet they never expressed any desire to return to them. The scientist was sure to bury all memories that didn't include them...

"You don't remember me, Y/n?.... We went to high school together and you were my date to prom until you stood me up. I was never able to get over you, and was hoping you'd be at the reunion."

"I was a reporter that followed you around for my big break... You let me stay the night once - after one of your dogs bit me. I kept the scarf you used to stop the blood."

"...It's none of your business..."

These....creatures. How could they have made such a mistake? This experiment turned out to be the greatest, yet most disastrous study of their time. Their pets kept the riff-raff away as instructed, but their mannerisms were - barbaric. Each would happy trot back up to their master's door with a torn limb in their mouth to trade for head pats and the scientists affection. They crowded the human's single bed and referred full rooms of their own. It wasn't uncommon for the scientist to be tackled by whomever was brave enough to encourage their frustration for a few seconds of lovestruck smothering. The loyalty of their hounds and whatever the humans held for them had warped into something truly twisted. The scientist no longer had to worry about outside threat for their security was more danger than any worry the paparazzi may bring

Crackpost under cut

Scientist Reader: Shake?

[Yan hounds shakes their hand]

Scientist Reader: Drop?

[Whining, the hound coughs up an eye into their hand]

Scientist Reader, scratching them behind the ear: Good puppy~ Now - go fetch with the others.

[Yan hound sprints off to continue mauling the screaming trespasser surrounded by the others]

[Scientist Reader stands in front of a counter as their hounds stand behind them attached to leashes - jaws snapping at the frightened cashier.]

Scientist Reader: Hello, Timothy. The last time I came in here- I specifically asked for no pickles. We won't have that problem again will we?"

Yan Hound #1: wahhh, master - they stole my arm so I couldn't hold your hand when we go out again since it's my turn.

Yan Hound #2, chewing one of their fingers: they're lying

Scientist Reader: It's alright. We'll go shopping for a new one later

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere scenarios #yandere x reader #yandere blurb #yandere oc #yandere harem #yandere hybrid #Franken-hounds

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noroi1000 · 1 year

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could i request a gojo x yn where yn is a famous supermodel while gojo is like businessman mafia and she meets him in a part for influential ppl and some rival of gojo attack the party to catch gojo but can't do it and to save y/n gojo takes her with him in a hurry to make sure she's fine ( bro fell in love at first sight while y/n doesn't really care bcs yk very hard to be impressed type of lady ) but a plot twist in this setting sort of is that there has been cases of many murders recently and the serial killer is impossible to catch ( the killer is y/- ok yes u get it but she killed them bcs she ruined her family or sum like that so our baddie is taking revenge ) well this is a dark theme dark romance request so yep ofc there's dark content and no one knows abt y/n's past at all despite her status no matter how hard they try and gojo after taking her makes her stay with him bcs she's one of the few ppl who saw his face so for privacy purposes and gojo barely finds out abt y/n's "dark deeds" when she throws hints playfully ( she's kinda devious morally grey sort of woman ) and idk what to add much more honestly but yea a smexy romantic love story ( SUB GOJO PLEASE 🙏😍😩 ) and gojo brings her a person to kill every year on her bday bcs she feels "stabby" ( mindfuck book series ref if ykyk ) also ofc y/n continues her career as a supermodel bcs 💅🏼👠. as another personal preference don't make y/n younger as it's uncomfy to me so yeah jsjdndbdnfn

whew this was quite a lot

have a good day !

Beautiful Vengeance

cover by @blvckryx my advisor and friend

paring: Mafia boss Gojo x model reader (killer)

words: 4,7k

warnings: murders, violence, guns, some kidnaping, smut (sub Gojo/dom reader)

Your mother always wanted you to have a good life. That's why when you told her you wanted to be a model when you grow up, she supported you as much as she could. To give you what you might need to make your dreams come true.

Your career took off when you were a teenager. When you were 16, you won a modeling contest, and your name made headlines.

And because you took the victory from one person, your life was about to end...

You competing with a girl whose family was more important than yours. You won anyway thanks to your innate charm, which made you stand in the first place and people considered you a beautiful, future model.

Thanks to this, your career could continue to roll and grow. And you couldn't take that chance.

You've worked so hard. You were the pride of your parents.

But your only opponent was a spoiled female dog who after losing to you all she wanted was to get rid of you.

She was the niece of mob boss Q. A man going by the name Q, who made his living by killing people for hire, dealing drugs and weapons. Even human trafficking. His mafia teams were everywhere.

You didn't know about it until you saw a group of people enter your house.

You were in your room then, and you heard screams and sounds of fighting.

As you quickly made your way down to your parents' living room, all you saw was pools of blood covering the soft carpet.

And three people dressed in black with black masks on their faces. In their hands bloody knives that they used to make your parents lie on the floor with open but dead eyes.

You were sad. You were afraid. You lost your parents. You wanted to cry over their loss. They were everything to you. They loved you, you loved them. You could have lived with them 16 years of your life. And now... It's all over.

Or you die and join them. To shorten your suffering.

But something else popped into your mind. To make them suffer.

You could have died at their hands, or you could have gotten revenge for your parents by killing them.

And you want revenge for the destruction of your life...

So you silently walked over to the cupboard until the opponents saw you, and unscrewing the bottle you let the water flow out of the plastic, soaking the entire floor where one of the people was standing.

You smashed a nearby lamp on his head and stabbed him with the sharpened glass at the end. Throwing the damaged item onto the wet floor, you jumped back quickly, letting his body quiver with the current coursing through him.

You hit the other's neck with your elbow, pulling his head back until you heard a crack.

Such easy ways to kill someone...

You've already killed two people with your own hands. Even if the metallic, disgusting smell of blood was nauseating.

Before you were stabbed by the last man, you took the knife from the dead body, and plunged the bloody blade into his chest.

While his body was still moving, he managed to scratch your head with the tip of the knife, just above the ear. Cutting off some of your shiny hair. Making your ear and the side of your neck covered in drops of blood.

The man in front of you writhed in pain as you pushed the knife hilt towards him, holding the knife in it. Stuck in his sternum in the chest.

Even though you saw the fear of death in his eyes, you felt no regret. Even if he cried and looked at you pleadingly, you showed no mercy.

Just like they had no mercy for your parents.

As he fell to the floor, the knife fell out of his chest, staying in your hand. Covering your hands in scarlet liquid.

When he was twitching and moving away with the last strength, you just walked over to him, and sitting on his stomach, you drove the knife into his heart, slowly watching the life fade from his eyes.

You felt your pajamas soaking in warm sticky blood. However, you didn't let go of the blade as you walked over to your parents and hugged them, not caring how dirty and bloody you were. You slowly and gently closed your eyes and left the house. Heading to a place where you know where a girl used to live surrounding herself with people with "Q" marks on their clothes.

There was a calm expression on your face as you walked straight down the runway, focusing on going perfect. The flashes of the flash bouncing off your eyes. The outfit you're wearing looks so good on you. One of the collections of one of the most famous fashion designers has been selected for you. Alternating with two other models, you go out there, showing the clothes on your body for less than a minute. A then you go back to change into your next outfit, and leave when it's your next turn.

It was your job.

You like it. You are a famous model.

And you don't mind that people only look at what your body looks like.

You go to clothes exhibitions, you take part in advertisements for clothes, cosmetics, nail polishes, jewelry. You are the face of many advertisements.

A lot of people who hire you choose you because you're sexy. And there is mystery in you. And your eyes show killer sexiness.

Your pose is flawless, sophisticated.

Everyone who knew you talked about this mystery in photos and videos. Something obtained without photomontage and without any additional make-up.

And Dark Beauty when you're seen in the ads for the blood red collection. Everything from lips to nails was a rich red.

That color just reminded you of what had happened over the years of your life. You don't care as long as no one knows about it.

Besides, your revenge isn't quite complete yet.

When you were 16, you swore revenge on those who hurt your family and you. You are 23 now. You are a famous model that neither the media nor anyone knows the whole truth about.

Nobody knows anything about your childhood, nobody knows anything about your past.

"Our killer only kills those from Q? Pretty good..." the white-haired man muttered, looking at the lists of names killed by one person this month. Three people. He couldn't feel sorry for these people. Each of them had the symbol of the Q family. How could he worry about the death of his enemies?

"Gojo-san, there's going to be a fashion show party soon with Q's boss."

He looked at the man who had spoken to him.

He stood up, adjusting his white shirt, adjusting the collar. He put on a black jacket and black glasses hiding his face.

"I couldn't miss it. Let's get together, guys. Time to bust some Q's heads."

Upon arrival, Gojo sat in a chosen spot next to the raised stage for models.

Soon after, the lights all around went out. The stage was lit.

This made it difficult for them to find their target.

So they decided to wait until the main banquet and party started to catch their enemies then.

Those who hinder his mafia cannot exist. Creating a business is a daily routine for the great "Six Eyes. And when people who have contracts with him are suddenly found dead with a "Q" burned into their skin, he can't sit idly by.

When he watched the fashion show, he thought it was everything he had seen before. All models the same, with fake smiles, with everything to make them even more attractive to the viewer. In none of them, in his opinion, was one whose eyes reflected the soul. And Six Eyes draws attention to human eyes. He knows people's eyes when they show fear or anger. When they show emotion. According to him, there was nothing interesting in the eyes of these women.

Until you came out from behind the curtain, walking calmly ahead. In an elegant black dress.

Your face showed a certain coldness, but warm at the same time. Your eyes were so mysterious.

White hair caught your attention, and you looked at him once.

And then, the mysterious darkness in your eyes made his heart beat faster.

Despite your emanating true model face, coupled with a nice façade, he felt your beauty was deadly. And he liked it very much. Mysterious danger.

A beautiful cat that can scratch her claws at any time. Even to death.

His eyes sparkled behind his glasses as he felt a little blush appear on his cheeks.

It was the first time he fell in love with someone at first sight.

No... It was the first time he truly fell in love. And he didn't want to lose this chance.

That's why he memorized as many details of your face as possible to catch you at the party after the fashion show. Because he sincerely hoped you'd be there.

Even if this party here may be bloody and trashed tonight.

But the moment everyone heard a few shots and one man fell to the floor lifeless, Gojo knew that this was no time for love or fun for him.

After all, he came here to get rid of enemies in an easy way.

And the orders to anyone who came with him said only: "If you see someone from Q, shoot without hesitation. They're definitely here."

All the people panicked and started to run.

And then each of them took out a gun and started shooting at the enemies.

When the white-haired man saw that you were standing behind the curtain on the stage, without a moment's thought he ran ahead, jumped on the platform and pulled you on his shoulder, to sit behind a meter high and shoot to protect you. His goal in sight has already killed three opponents today.

"What're you-?!" You screamed as you pulled away from him.

You already had a plan to approach one of the Q's from behind and slit his throat!

And he interrupted you.

"Don't be afraid, you won't die." He said to you.

You couldn't see his eyes clearly through his glasses. But you know he's not a cop.

You are in the middle of a fight between mafias.

Arrows started raining in your direction and he then quickly pulled you in front of him, making you kneel in front of him, and he lowered your head to his chest as he bent down so they wouldn't shoot him.

As he knelt, leaning forward, you were underneath his body. That's how he protected you.

You don't know why he did it. But you guess there's a deeper meaning to it.

It was the first time anyone protected you. It was nice of him. Because that man didn't even know you. You only looked at each other once during the show. Few minutes ago!

When there were fewer shots in your direction, you crawled out from under his chest, heading around the narrow stage.

And you, too, reached into your thigh and pulled out a folding knife.

Ignoring the screams of the white-haired man behind you and the shots, you kept walking. Until you finally saw a man with a "Q" tattoo on his neck.

You literally felt the knife sharpening in your hand and you quickly walked over to him without making a sound and smashed the knife into his neck. And then to the side of the head.

You quickly pulled away and sheathed the knife to check for blood. Fortunately not.

You were pulled to your feet by the same man who tried to save you right after all the shots had stopped.

You looked at his face without glasses.

You noticed the beauty and unique vigor of the eyes.

You heard another shot.

You looked to the side to see a dark haired man firing a gun at a man who was sitting with his back against the stage to make sure he was dead. With his head on the side. Because of this, no one could see the hole in his temple and neck, which is why he died.

"That's everyone. None of them managed to escape." He said, addressing the white-haired man. "What about her? Shoot? You don't have glasses."

He pointed the barrel of the gun at you.

You'd love to fight. If only that guy's hands weren't on your shoulders.

"She saw my face, huh... It's okay. We're taking her with us." He said with a smile.

"What?!" you shouted pissed off.

"Baby, you couldn't see my face. It's not against the rules of my Mafia. No one except those closest to me has seen my face or knows my real name. According to the rules, I should kill you or lock you up so you don't tell anyone. However, killing you would be a great loss. You're so beautiful and you got me curious... I don't want to kill someone I fell in love with."

"...Hold on!" You screamed as you pushed him, but he only held you tighter.

"Come on. I just have to admit there's something mysterious about your eyes. What you show on stage is not the real you, is it?"

"Fuck off!"

"Aw, honey..." he mumbled sadly.

He started to drag you by the wrist to the car. And even though you kept leaning against you, when the other man helped him to immobilize your arms, you were put in the car and he got in right behind you. The door was closed.

You noticed the black window in front of you, separating you from the driver.

That's good. Maybe you can kill him.

When he looked away for a moment, you put your hand under your dress, pulling your knife from the belt on your thigh, and suddenly jumped into his lap, putting the blade to his throat.

"Hey, baby, this is how you repay me for helping me? Understand that these are the rules we have." He said with a smile, hands raised in front of you.

"I could handle myself." You growled.

"Such a dangerous, beautiful woman. What part is the real you?"

"Who are you?! Someone from Q?!"

"Slow down a bit. Actually, it's like I'm taking you, so I should be the one asking the questions. But okay. I'm Six Eyes. Mafia boss. And when it comes to Q, I'm their biggest adversary."

You wondered if you should trust him. He didn't seem threatening now. Also, there was no Q anywhere here.

Holding the knife to his throat, you hesitated for a moment on what to do.

This caused his hands to quickly pull you down to the seat. His both hands held your wrists while his hips touched your ass as you lay on your stomach.

"If I was from Q, I'd rather kill myself than be there. And besides, everyone from Q would pay no attention to anything. They would just tie you up, rape you, kill you, and then dump your body in a ditch. Did I do that?"

"If you tried, I'd castrate you." You growled.

"Dangerous. I like it. However..." he let go of your wrists and sat in his place, giving you space. "I don't know if you could do something for me. I must admit your ferocity and hostility is strong. But let's say I'm the Mafia boss and you're the model."

"Do not underestimate me..."

"So tell me, (y/n) (l/n), why shouldn't I underestimate you? Tell me something about you. Because you are famous, but your biography is not known by anyone."

You were locked up in the large villa that was his home for several days. Why? Because he didn't want to lock you up in your old garages. He didn't want you gagged and bound while you sat there for who knows how long.

Your relationship was closer because you liked him. However, there was still some tension between the two of you.

Him, the annoying, selfish asshole and egotist who spoke to you the way he wanted to, and always came in when you least expected it.

He was able to come to you in the bathroom while you were taking a bath.

And he joined you.

That's why things became intimate between the two of you quickly, even though you weren't even a couple. You could just be considered friends now.

And you both liked the relationship you already had.

Nothing changed for the next two weeks.

It doesn't matter how many times you hit him with a pan until he finally let you go.

Of course he didn't because he acted like a child after being hit on the head with a pan. He pretended to cry.

You took good care of him and checked him for any head injury. Everything was fine. So you didn't have to worry.

And then he wouldn't let you get out of bed, wanting to make you feel guilty for doing it.

He was lying on your stomach, making you rub and stroke his head because it hurt. And it was your fault.

You apologized to him, and what else were you supposed to do?

It was your revenge for him locking you in here. And for skipping one of the most important performances where you were supposed to show clothes on stage. However, you couldn't complain, because as compensation for your lost money, you received from him a wardrobe worth half a year of your work. Or even more.

If only he was still good at sex, then you wouldn't complain so much. Because your partners were terrible. It's as if they couldn't do anything.

Besides, you've also been given a luxurious house that you have to live with him anyway.

"Come on. I already apologized to you..." you said, running your fingers through his white hair.

"But it hurt..." he said, pretending to cry.

"You don't even have a trace of it. There isn't even a bump on your head."

"But it still hurt...

"You've probably watched the ball through your opponents more than once, right?"

"Not at all..."

"You're in the mafia, Satoru..."

So yes, he told you his real name with the idea that you can't leave him and leave his house anyway. So your names were used by you on a daily basis.

"I've been in the mafia since my mother gave birth to me. I took it from my father... Besides, nobody ever shot me. Because I shot faster and more accurately than they did. When I was 15 I killed a spy who was looking for our weak point in our defense." He laughed, purring as your fingers swirled in his hair.

"So you had a bloody childhood too?"

"I doubt you shot anyone when you were a teenager." He laughed. "How old are you anyway?"

"I'm 23." You replied.

"Same as me! You see? We are made for each other!" He stood up suddenly, looking at you with sparkles in his eyes.

"Apparently you have a headache." You laughed as you saw him quickly lay down on top of you again. "Come on. Come, let me stroke you a little more."

"Which means you had a bloody childhood?"

"Do you really want to know? Don't you prefer that I leave my mysterious eyes?"

"You're smart and cold, or so you think. At fashion shows and commercials, you change it to a mysterious and sensual façade. However, you can care for someone else."

"I hit you with a pan. Is this supposed to be taking care of someone?"

He laughed slightly.

"It was different. Because I don't forbid you to be aggressive. I understand that you hate me. But now you're stroking and hugging me. You wash me while I wash you. We are not such enemies. Can you say we're lovers?"

"I don't know. But when I was 16, I also did something that probably no other model has ever done." You laughed.

He looked at you for a moment, analyzing what you said.

And 7 years ago, almost 10 people were murdered. And from that moment on, the murders of everyone in the Q group and family began. Starting with some of the closest ones from the family of the boss himself.

And these murders continue to this day. The murderer is impossible to catch because no one knows who he is. The gender of this person is unknown. No one knows what his goals are in these murders.

"This knife... You..." He looked at you questioningly.

"I have a knife scar under my hair. And the blood stains are washing off the skin." You said softly. "You can beat me if you know the truth now. If you think I'll be in the way or I shouldn't kill people like them. But remember that if you try, I will try to protect myself."

"You know it doesn't matter to me We may even be partners in crime. Because this is the woman I fell in love with at first sight." He hugged you, holding you tight.

Your actions for revenge are not ridiculed by him. On the contrary. He supports it.

And he promises that everyone from Q will die.

Because he fell in love with mysterious dark eyes. Eyes that from the beginning hid something murderous. So beautiful.

Just like all of you.

Your relationship was like lovers and enemies at the same time.

Or was it more like partners in crime now?

Dark lovers who don't care about the lives of their enemies. You has a mafia boss, the famous Six Eyes, wrapped around your little finger.

You guided him. His heart.

Such a powerful man was so small and sweet to you. So submissive.

That's why you could give that big little boy what he wanted.

You were still riding his cock until you were out of breath that night.

Or rather, his breath.

When you wonder if he's good at sex, you thought he was going to be average.

However, it is different.

He has a big nice dick.

It really stretches you out. It goes so deep. It hits all the best places.

You could barely feel the thin condom against his thick length as your pussy slid over him, lovingly inviting him into your tight warmth every time you lowered your hips.

His arms were bound with the string you found. It felt so good in his muscles.

He couldn't move while you scratched his arms and bit his neck.

You were riding him, making him moan. His hips pushed upward to meet your warmth. Your hand on the back was catching his balls and you were squeezing the skin in your palm. You pinched his thighs. You ran your hands over his lower abdomen, running your fingers along the veins running down his pubic bone.

Your fingernails ran over his chest, occasionally grazing his nipples.

While riding him, you massaged your clitoris to make you come faster. And you smiled as you watched as his head was thrown back as he red-faced moaned at the feeling of your pussy sucking him. His chest heaved rapidly.

His cock twitched inside you.

And then you pulled it out of you, leaving it out in the air. Only with a thin condom on it.

He moaned as your fingers tightened on the base of him, not allowing him to come.

It was his first ruined orgasm you gave him.

And you think he was always driving during sex. He was downstairs now, but he didn't protest. This guy just needed someone to dominate him the right way.

Very slowly and unbearably, you took the condom off him as the precum began to form a transparent puddle in the sperm reservoir.

Leaning down to his red cock, you kissed his head, listening as he moaned, his hips jumping as he felt a sudden touch against a sensitive part of his body.

He was so red and sensitive from a ruined orgasm. It was so cute.

You sat on his hips, and rubbed your pussy against his length, pressing his shaft against his muscular belly.

At the same time, you pulled his face down to your chest, doing something he always did when he saw you shirtless. You put his head in your breasts and he immediately started sucking on your nipples. Feeling the softness of your skin.

Soon after, he started moaning again and you stopped touching his cock again. If he wasn't tied up now, he would grab the length of it and start stroking himself to feel relieved. But alas, his hands were tied. There was nothing he could do and he was at your mercy.

You pressed your fingers against it again. Ensuring not one drop of his cum will come out of his tip. He couldn't come yet.

You want to see him throw his head back and moan when he wants to cum so much.

You sat on his cock when he didn't have a condom on, and he hissed through his teeth at the hot and tight feeling when he had nothing to separate your insides from his sensitive skin.

You grabbed the second condom and ripped open the wrapper. Only then did you get off of him, watching his wet tip drool.

You put the rubber all the way down his length, and then you sat on him again.

Warming his cock until his eyes were glassy and hazy and his face was so red.

As he threw his head back and his shoulders and hips trembled, wanting to start thrusting into you to come, you gave him some mercy.

You started jumping on top of him, smiling as you watched his heavy breathing and closed eyes.

The mighty mafia boss began to moan beneath you. And his ragged moans coupled with light sobs were the cause of his intense orgasm which was a combination of the three he was about to get. His thighs trembled as he came filling the condom inside you, the heat from his fluids pushing his sensitivity to the limit.

As you pulled him out of you, his cock fell soft against his stomach. You took the filled condom off him and tied it, putting the sticky rubber on his abs.

You lay down next to him, untying his hands, letting him pull your body against his.

Your nights together made him unable to resist you. So when you wanted to go back to your dream job, he had to agree.

Two people followed you across the city.

Even if he trusted you not to tell anyone.

He had your secret and you had his.

Little cameras in people's suits let him see what you were doing.

Well, he knew what you would do with those two.

Besides, he didn't feel sorry for them. They were two deserters who ran away from Q to join his mafia.

And he promised you that everyone who is or even was with Q will die.

That's why when he suddenly saw a pool of blood on the other side, he wasn't surprised and didn't even feel sorry for the two people.

Then he saw your face as you held the camera in one hand and your knife in the other.

"Not nice, Six Eyes ~. I don't like being followed. And we'll keep your punishment for that for later, Okay?"

When you said that, he felt a pleasant shiver that passed over his spine. And he couldn't wait for you to come home.

You were his dark queen.

His dark, beautiful queen will have her beautiful vengeance.

Because you will get everything.

Every year, on your birthday, he would take you to one place where the dirty work of killing was often done.

As a surprise, you got one or two high-ranking Q people.

Because his beautiful queen will always get what she wants.

So if you want revenge, you'll get it. In the best way for you.

You are his killer beauty. His deadly love.

#gojou satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader smut #Mafia boss Gojo #jjk #jjk x you #jujustu kaisen #gojo #jjk x reader #Sub Gojo

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anime-addict-362 · 1 year

Text

Better Than a Street Whore

CW: NSFW, Shigaraki x Y/N, bottom Shigaraki, he threatens to kill Y/N a lot, begging, overstimulation, lots of kissing, half-assed written aftercare, Y/N switches between degrading his dick and prasing him for being good, I wrote this within 2 hours, forgive me, it was out of boredom promise

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Shigaraki stood in front of Y/N. Why did she need to be there? She was hired by All For One, but she didn't do anything. Just sat around on her phone all day.

Despite her lack of work, All For One demanded she be there, and he was not allowed to kill her. Damnit.

"Can you leave," He asked, annoyed with the sound of her nails clacking on her phone screen.

"Nah," Y/N didn't even look at him, still typing. "Big man wants me here. I gotta be here."

"Why," Shigaraki scoffed.

"I dunno," She shrugged. "Ask him, he's your master or whatever."

"I-"

"And what is up with that," Y/N rolled her eyes. "Master used outside of the bathroom? Weird."

He blinked. What was she talking about? What did she mean, outside of the bedroom?

"Don't tell me you're confused," She finally looked up from her phone, to look at him amused. "Not bitch boy being a virgin."

Not allowed to kill her. He was allowed to hurt her.

She dodged the glass that flew towards her head with a yelp, and she grabbed her phone before she could drop it.

"I'm not a virgin," He yelled over the glsss shattering.

"Jesus," She mumbled. "It was just a goddamn joke. The fuck is wrong with you?"

"Real fucking funny," He rolled his eyes.

"So," She asked, standing up fully. "Who'd you lose your virginity to?"

His eyes widened. "None of your goddamn business!"

He wanted to dust her when she approached, but no, he wasn't allowed to.

"I bet you used that nomu," She pouted, ignoring his rage filled look. "You needed to feel in control for once so you took something you could order around with no consequence."

"I- I absolutely-"

"Or," She smirked, running a hand on his tense stomach. "You had it fuck you until you couldn't breath, just to get out of your mind for a bit. I could only imagine the cock one those things-"

Shigaraki smacked her hands when she started estimating the... girth of a potential nomu penis. "They don't even have a penis!"

"Oh," Y/N looked to him. "Still big fingers. One is around the size over a bigger than average human dick. I get you could take multiple though-"

"I'm going to murder you," She yelped with a laugh as he reached for her, and she ran.

"No killing me," She squealed as he threw her on the couch. "It's not allowed! Your master wouldn't like it!"

He groaned. Of course he told her about the rule. "Just- Leave. Get out."

"I can't," She shrugged, relaxing back. "Not for a few weeks."

He walked away, but like a fucking dog, she followed with a giggle. "So? Did you fuck the nomus?"

"No," He yelled.

"You can tell me," She pouted. "I'll share one of my fucked up sex stories if you tell me yours."

"No," He scoffed.

"Virgin," She accused.

"Shut up," He grabbed another cup but she was taking it from him before he could chuck it at her.

"Are you a virgin," This time, her tone of genuine. "No laughing, promise."

He blinked, confused on why she cared... Fuck it. Maybe it'll get her to back off.

"No," He answered honestly. "And it wasn't a nomu, you sick freak."

She shrugged. "So who was it?"

Shigaraki moved uncomfortably, shrugging. "I don't remember her name. Just a hook up from awhile ago."

"So it didn't mean anything," She looked judgey. "Have you had any meaningful sex?"

He scoffed. "I lead a very large group of murderous villains. What makes you think I have time for feelings?"

She shrugged, and he jumped at her grabbing his hand. She held it up by the palm, then traced his fingers once she turn it upright.

"Are you trying to kill yourself," He mumbled, watching her fingers trace his calloused hand.

"This is not nearly a suicide attempt," She chuckled. "How do you have sex with absolutely no feeling behind it? I never understood the hype around that."

He gulped as her hand continued up his arm. "I- I don't know. It's just how it is."

She hummed, a hand going to his chest. "You're not pushing me away."

She was right. He wasn't.

"I don't have meaningful sex," He tried to tell her, both of her hands now on him. "I don't let feelings get involved."

"That's not exactly what meaningful sex means," She mumbled, pulling his shirt up suddenly. "At least not to me."

He helped pull the shirt off. God, it was hot in there. She shoved him against the bar, hands holding his waist. He was awfully skinny, so she grabbed quite a bit of him just like that.

"I'm going to make you feel so good," She whispered, going to his neck. "Gonna let me? Let me make you feel amazing."

He huffed, staring at her body, that was pressed up against his. He gasped at the bite on his neck. "Fuck- Yes. Yes Y/N."

She grinned, bringing a hand up to wrap in his hair. She held him in place while she kissed him, roughly. He groaned, gripping the counter behind him.

"You're hot," She grinned, hands swiping over his ribs. "Lead me to your room."

Was he really about to do this? Was he really about to have sex with a woman he finds insanely annoying?

He didn't need to answer that, because the way he pulled her to his bedroom was answer enough.

Y/N pulled him back into a rough kiss the second the door was closed, pushing him against it.

"Now, listen up," She grabbed his face, holding it in place so he stayed looking at her. "I want you touching me, so go put on those silly gloves you have."

Shigaraki huffed, but listened. He moved to his nightstand and grabbed them, slipping them on easily. Once on, Y/N was back in him, kissing him, hands wandering.

He leaned down after a few moments, and picked her up to wrap her legs around his waist. "Okay?"

"Yeah, it's okay," Y/N confirmed with a small smile. She removed her arms around him to pull her shirt off... God, he better not drop her. She would be pissed.

In his defense, he seemed to be somewhat strong. At least enough to hold her.

Once the shirt was off, she proceeded to kiss down his neck. "Lay down on the bed, Shigaraki. Sit me right on you."

Shigaraki wasn't sure he had it in him to refuse. Not with the way her sweet voice sounded, so close to his ear, the way her hand tangled in his hair, the other running down his chest again.

So he sat on the bed, making sure Y/N's legs weren't trapped under him before he laid back. He didn't even think over how good Y/N would look straddling him.

Y/N smiled when she noticed Shigaraki's eyes wandering. "Like what you see?"

"It's decent," Shigaraki huffed.

Y/N pouted at that. "We both know that's a lie. I can tell by the way your face is already burning, you think much different."

Shigaraki gulped, looking up to Y/N. "I don't-"

"I also feel your hard on," Y/N chuckled, putting her hands on either side of his head. "Why not just tell me how you feel? You might get something in return."

He stared at her. "Like?"

"You're a smart man, Shigaraki. Look at our position and take a guess about what I'll do to you," She chuckled. "So? Go on."

He looked her in the eye. "You're fucking infuriating."

"Ouch," She put a hand on her heart. "Keep going."

"You're... attractive, I guess," He cleared his throat, refusing to let his voice crack right now.

"Attractive? Care to elaborate?"

God fuck, this woman.

"I hate you," He groaned, feeling a hand move to the waistband of his pants.

"I'll leave you all hard if you don't start doing what I ask," Y/N's voice was lower now, as if she wss threatening him.

He didn't care though. He could get himself off. He didn't need Y/N to make him come, even if he would probably regret it later... What would Y/N do?

Would she suck him off? Or would they just start having sex? He would enjoy either way but-

He gasped at the hand that grabbed his face, forcing him to look to Y/N. "I'm sitting right here, about to give you the best orgasm of your pathetic life and you're ignoring me?"

"No- I wasn't ignoring you," He went onto explain. But it was hard to explain the way his thoughts got caught up. It didn't matter though, because he remembered what she wanted.

"You're so hot," He huffed, grabbing the wrist of the hand that still held his face. "You're... Pretty too."

Y/N knew the word "pretty" wasn't ever in his vocabulary, but it did sound good coming out of his mouth, in that shaky voice.

"Pretty huh," She grinned, kissing him and finally letting go of his face. "You're pretty yourself, handsome."

He gulped at the compliment. He wasn't sure he liked the compliment, it sounded unrealistic. Him? Pretty? Handsome?

He wasn't given a lot of time to think it over, not with Y/N moving between his legs and pulling his sweatpants snd boxers off in one swipe.

"Y/N," He huffed, feeling her kiss the inside of his thighs. Why was she so bold? Why was she so close?

She kept kissing him, feeling his breathing picking up the closer she got to his dick. She really wanted to see him come, and she wanted it to be the best he's ever had.

Not that would be that hard. She's not the most experienced person in the world but compared to some random woman on the street? Odds are she was way better.

After a few moments, she reached down to her shirt pocket. Sweet, she still had a few condoms left.

"You know, I do think you're very attractive," Y/N spoke up, opening the condom. "I'm sure a lot of the fucked up women on the street want to have some fun with you. Probably even some men."

Shigaraki huffed. What do you say in response to that? Thanks?

"That being said, I think you're a little of a whore and always accept when someone asks to fuck you," Y/N's words made him tense.

"I am not-"

"What I'm getting at," Y/N interrupted him. "Is that I have a hard time believing you don't have some sort of STI. God knows what the people around here have. Especially Dabi."

Shigaraki scoffed. "I don't have an STI."

"Yeah? And who tested you, and when," Y/N raided an eyebrow. "I'm already lowering my standards to give you a decent orgasm, one better than those street sluts can give you, don't get picky now."

Shigaraki gulped as she slid the condom on him. "So what? You think I have a STI and you're still going to have sex with me?"

Y/N grinned. "Oh I'm not fucking you until you get tested. I'm just gonna get you off, and you're gonna get me off. But I'm sure I'll have to teach you, I doubt you know how to properly please a woman."

He glared at her. "Why are you suddenly being a bitch?"

She raised an eyebrow. "So you do know how to make a woman come? And you know, not one of those fake ones. I promise, I won't fake it."

He didn't even know what to say. What do you say to anything she's saying? She was nuts!

He groaned when her hand grabbed his dick, which was now completely covered by the condom. "If you're not gonna fuck me, what's with the condom?"

"You don't have running water here," Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Your dick is probably gross. Again, you seem like a great fuck, but I'm lowering my standards for you. They are practically rock bottom right now."

Shigaraki glared at her harder. "I could kill you at any moment."

"You're right," She smiled softly, starting to jack him off at a gentle pace. "You could. But you're not going to. You like me calling you gross. You're practically whimpering just because my hand is wrapped around your filthy cock. It twitches whenever I insult you. You fucking love this, being under me, just taking my insults."

Shigaraki groaned when she squeezed his cock suddenly, and very hard. He felt like he was close, all her dumb (and very untrue...) words were getting to him.

"Y/N," He gasped, trying to get her hand off of him.

"Beg," She grinned wildly. "Beg me to make you come, tell me how much you love me degrading your filthy cock. Do it."

He whimpered, grabbing her wrist. God, her grip was fucking tough.

"Please," He whispered.

"Hm?"

"Please," He yelled out, holding her arm. "Fuck- Please Y/N, make me come. Degrade me, do whatever, just please, make me come."

...he was pathetic. What was wrong with him?

Y/N hummed, loosening her hand. "Keep going."

"Fuck," He breathed out at the relief. "Please Y/N, god fuck, I need it. I'm so close, please."

He might kill himself later, honestly.

She chuckled, and moved her hand, just enough to get him to come. "I've heard better. But I guess I can't expect too much from you."

Shigaraki moaned, stomach tensing. "Y/N- Oh god."

"C'mon," Y/N grinned, hand moving quicker. "You can come, Tomura. You're doing so good, keep going."

Her suddenly, sickeningly sweet words made his heart tighten, and he eyes roll back. "Fuck- Y/N- please."

She leaned forward and kissed him. He moaned in her mouth, a hand going up to her back. He needed something to hold.

Y/N hissed as his free fingers caught on her skin, but just moved her hand quicker. And it worked, because he was moaning aloud again, as he came, filling the condom.

He whimpered when her hand didn't stop, and moved the hand on her back to her hip to grab more. "Y/N, please, I came already."

"It wasn't good enough," Y/N kissed just under his ear. "I wanna see you crying. I wanna hear you yell my name, I need you begging me to stop because you can't handle how good it feels."

Shigaraki let out a sob, her hand not letting up the quick pace at all. "Y/N- Its too much, please."

"You're doing so good," She whispered, and kissed his jaw. "You're taking it so good, you're being so good for me. You can take another one, I know you can."

He nodded slowly, barely aware of the fact he was drooling. He laid his head back as she kissed him. She was so sweet now. What changed? Did he do something to make her want to be nice all of the sudden?

"Y/N," He moaned quietly against her lips. "Please- I don't think I can-"

"You can," She whispered again, sending a weird feeling through Shigaraki. "You're doing so good already. I know you can be even better."

He felt another sob rip through his chest. "Be mean again- Stop."

She hummed, kissing him. "Why would I be mean when you're being such a good boy? You deserve to be treated nicely after listening,to me so well."

He moaned as her hand twisted around the head of his cock, spreading the come throughout the condom. "I'm- I'm close again- Y/N, god."

"Good boy," She hummed. "C'mon, be a good boy and come for me."

He sobbed and he felt his orgasm build up again. It was a lot, almost overwhelming. "It's- I'm coming- Y/N," He moaned shakily as he came, feeling tears fall as her hand helped him through it.

"Good job," She whispered, stopping her hand. "Such a good job."

He took a deep breath, but it only came out uneven and shaky. He yelped when her hand tightened and moved down the length of his cock slowly.

"Y/N, please," He sobbed, hands shaking, and hips pulling away.

She laughed, pulling her hand away. "Now tell me... Was that better or worse compared to those street whores?"

"Better," He sobbed again, her legs just barely brushing up again his cock. "So much better- Fuck!"

She couldn't stop grinning. But she decided to have some mercy, and stop touching his dick until he calmed down. For now, she just held him, arms wrapping around him.

She sighed at the sob and his arms wrapping around her back, tears wetting her shoulder. "You did such a good job, Tomura. Go ahead and rest."

Why was he still crying? It was done, they were done. But her consistent praise wasn't helping.

"Take a deep breath, Tomura. You did so good, you're done," She kissed his neck. "C'mon, take a deep breath now."

He was way past the point of feeling silly, so he just listened to her, taking a deep breath. He noticed something wet on his hand so he looked to where it restrd on Y/N back.

"I'm sorry," He breathed out, noticing he definitely made her bleed with scratches... It was hard to go out and get nail clippers, okay? Fuck off.

Y/N found the apology comical. He threatened to kill her multiple times and now he was apologizing for a scratch. She made the decision to lot laugh though.

"It's okay," She smiled softly, kissing his cheek. "I'm gonna clean you up, okay?"

He shook his head. "No- I need to make you-"

"It's okay, Tomura," She sat up, out of his arms. "It's alright. You're tired, you need to rest. And I'm going to clean you up."

He nodded, wiping the tears from his face.

It took a few minutes for the embarrassment to set in. It seemed the moment Y/N was cleaning his come covered dick was the moment he lost his humanity, and was officially a disgrace of a villain.

"Oh stop," Y/N scoffed as he tried to pull away. "So dramatic, its just your own dick."

He huffed, face red. "I'm good- Please leave."

"Uh huh," She finally stopped, throwing the towel next to the bed. "Get your eyes off my tits, perv."

"Put your shirt back on," He argued back.

She shrugged, and grabbed her shirt. "I'll be downstairs," He watched her get up and walk out his bedroom. "You owe me an orgasm!"

#mha smut #x reader #x y/n #dom y/n #dom reader #sub Shigaraki #bottom shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #tomura Shigaraki x y/n #top reader #dom reader x Shigaraki

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