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#i’m like. one more bad thing from just fucking doing it
kingkaizen · 3 days
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𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓱𝓬'𝓼
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∘ desc: breeding scenarios revolving around the jujutsu kaisen boys, hope you enjoy <3
∘ ft: gojo, geto, nanami, sukuna,+ choso
∘ a/n: first post on the blog! im so excited for you all to read. pls let me know if you want something similar for different characters, i'm open to ideas!
∘ includes: nsfw, breeding, dirty talk, creampie, crying
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Gojo
↠ this man has one of the biggest breeding kinks, this isn’t up for debate he’s so serious
↠ he can’t help but love the possessiveness of it all, the way you squeeze around him so tight while he mumbles over and over about how much he wants to fill you up
↠ “Fuck princess, you’re clenching around me so hard..makes me wanna give that pretty pussy what it deserves.”
↠ “Yeah, you want me to cum inside you baby? How bad do you want it? Tell me baby.”
↠ he can’t really make out your desperate response, but he could tell how much his words are affecting you by the way your back begins to arch paired with your eyes rolling to the back of your head
↠ the thought of getting you pregnant turns him on much more than he’d like to admit to you, why wouldn’t he want to put his claim over you in the most primal way possible?
↠ gojo can’t stop himself from pounding into you harder, reaching impossibly deeper as he presses your legs against your chest 
↠ “I can’t wait to see you all full with my cum, with our child.” 
↠ his fingers stroke at your clit before moving up to rub your tummy
↠ “right here? im gonna fuck a baby into you.”
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Geto
↠ geto’s breeding kink isn’t something that he’s ever mentioned to you before
↠ truthfully, it isn’t really something that he’s put much thought into in the first place
↠ it’s more of an “in the moment” thing
↠ he’s always been very rational, but all sense goes out the window once he hears your voice
↠ “god, you always sound so cute for me. begging for my cum just how i like.”
↠ he wants you to tell him how much you want it. He won’t give it to you unless he knows how desperate you are
↠ but even then, he knows that there’s no way that he could ever deny you anything
↠  so when he finally does let it all go, he doesn’t stop until you’re shaking underneath him
↠ “i’m gonna fill you up again and again until i cant anymore, you deserve it all.”
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Sukuna
↠ breeding to sukuna is a privilege
↠ he doesn’t care how needy you get, if you don’t deserve it, he won’t give it to you
↠ he’s a huge tease, so even if you think you’ve been good, he’s still never going to make it that easy
↠ he loves it most when you work so, so hard just to prove it to him
↠ with your hands gripping the sheets beneath you, he has you on all fours, towering over you casually as you push back against him
↠ “god you’re such a slut, i didn’t think you were this desperate to get me off.”
↠ his laugh sounds so sinister coming from him, smiling so wide at the way your arms shook as they began to give out
↠ sighing deeply, he braces a hand against the headboard, other hand gripping your waist as he finally moves you on his cock himself
↠ “you’re so pathetic, making me do all the work when you promised you could make me cum yourself. i guess you’d rather have me finish on your back then, hm?”
↠ the sound of your whining in response makes him feel that much more powerful
↠ “calm down, im just kidding. i’ll make sure you take it all inside of you like a good girl.”
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Nanami
↠ nanami isnt someone that i can see wanting kids
↠ sure, he probably would be very good with kids but it isnt something that he necessarily wants for himself
↠ the only aspect of this kink that nanami enjoys is the mess
↠ sex with him is always so passionate, he puts his everything into making you feel good
↠ he can’t help but crave the sight of his cum leaking out of your cunt, and the way it always leaves you twitching and begging for more
↠ “you always feel so good, getting me so worked up already.”
↠ after he’s through with you, he never stops there
↠ carefully placing your sore legs back down from their previous spot on his shoulders, he slowly plunges his fingers into your core
↠ he’s almost ashamed of himself by how much he gets off to your fallen tears as he scoops his cum from inside of you, hushing your soft hisses with rough kisses to your face 
↠ “c’mon baby, i want you to see how good we taste together.”
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Choso
↠ breeding for choso isn’t about the potential risks or even the mess
↠ he simply just wants to bury himself deep inside of you, completely losing all and any sense of control
↠ he never really indulges you in this kink unless he really just needs to let off some steam
↠ seeing you wear literally anything is enough to get him in the mood, he’s so attracted to you
↠ you were both on your way to meet up with some friends, but he couldn’t help dragging you into the bathroom
↠ you soon found yourself being fucked against the wall, choso not having a care in the world about anyone who could just walk in
↠ “i’m sorry baby, i couldn’t wait, j-just wanna be inside you.”
↠ he thrusts into you with such urgency, so needy for his release so that he can watch the way his cum trickles down your thighs
↠ your nails dragging down his back while creaming all over him sends him right to the edge, loud and desperate groans making its way to your ears as he sets you back down
↠”now you’re gonna walk back out there and hold my cum inside of you until we’re done here, okay?”
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© kingkaizen | do not copy, steal, or duplicate!
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tayytayy12 · 2 days
Text
Off to the races | CS55 x Reader
Summary - When your father sold you off into a loveless marriage with a feared mafia boss, you knew it wouldn’t end well, the two of you hardly ever speaking, but one night when your husband promises he’ll start doing better, you cousins help but believe him.
Warnings - swearing, whatever you’d expect from a Mafia story really
Requested - No - Yes
Type - Written
Not been proofread
You knew from the money that your father told you about the little arrangement he had made with Carlos Sainz, the most feared man in all of Spain, that you’d be unhappy as the result of it. You’re whole life you’d grown up lacking the luxury of having a lot of money, but you had a loving family that were worth everything to you, so you was content, but apparently your father didn’t feel the same.
He done something stupid. Something so incredibly stupid and wrong, he borrowed money from Carlos Sainz, money he knew for a fact that he would never be able to able to repay, so when the man showed up at your family’s home, a gun pointed at your fathers head unless he could offer up some kind of repayment, your father offered you up to the man without a moment of hesitation.
Carlos’ men came and hit you the next day, no matter how much you screamed and begged your mother and father to make them not take you, to let you stay at home with your family, they didn’t listen and you was taken away and married off to Carlos at the next available date.
He didn’t love you, he didn’t care for you, he needed you for one thing and one thing only, an heir. One to take over for him when he wouldn’t work anymore, to keep his family name leading the mafia past his lifetime, that’s all.
You didn’t have fun at the wedding, you never had fun, you woke up, had breakfast, wandered around the halls of your home, and went to bed, you hardly ever saw Carlos, it was rare he even came home at night.
You sighed, flopping onto your back as the moonlight shone through the crack in the curtains, yet another night that sleep seemed like something far out of reach, another night where Carlos wasn’t home and he was out doing god knows what.
You could never sleep alone, back at home you shared a room with your younger sister, your whole life you’d never have to stay in a room all alone, it was too quiet and empty.
“Fuck this.” You muttered as you threw the blanket off of your legs and slipped some shoes and a robe on as you walked out of your bedroom, the two guard that were always near you following a few steps behind, another annoying habit of your husband, having guards follow and track your every move.
You went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea, something your other used to do when you was a child and couldn’t sleep, and went to go sit on the back porch of your house, looking out onto the anchors of land that she now partly owned.
You groaned as you heard the door click open from behind you, “Mr.Jackson, I appreciate that you’re just going your job, but it’s a glass door, can’t you just look at me through it instead? It’s bad enough you’re always two feet behind me. No offence.”
“Is that how you talk to all my staff?” You instantly sat up straighter when you heard your husband’s voice instead of the British accent of your assigned bodyguard, you cleared your throat, “Sorry Mr.Sainz, I didn’t know it was you.” You whispered, your eyes still stuck on the land before you.
“No need to be so formal, cariño,” he said as he sat on the seat beside yours, “we are married after all.”
You scoffed and rolled his eyes at his words and muttered a quiet “Barley.” But he still heard you and turned his stare towards you, “and by that you mean?”
You rolled your eyes once again, “I see you four times a month if I’m lucky, Carlos. You’ve never wished me a happy birthday in two years of marriage. You see me as the key to continuing your family name. Nothing more.”
He didn’t know what to say, he was angry, not at you. At himself for letting you ever think the words leaving your mouth were true, “I’m sorry I’ve made you feel this way cariño.”
You shrugged and took a sip of your tea, the warm liquid gliding down your throat, “Don’t be. Our marriage is and always has been a business proposition, nothing more.”
He wanted to say so many things in that moment, how he picked you because from the moment he saw you, your enchanting eyes and sweet as honey laugh, he fell. He could get any woman from anywhere to continue his family’s legacy, but he chose you.
“Trust me, cariño,” he whispered as he moved from his seat and got on his knees in front of you, confusing you greatly as he took the warm mug from your hand and placed it in the ground, “you’re much more than a part of a business deal to me.” He whispered and he placed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, “I’ll do better by you, you’re my wife, my main priority,” he whispered, this side of him was new, so new you was scared to say that you liked it, “tell me what I can do to start making it better.”
You swallowed lightly, having no idea where this Carlos was coming from, “You can actually spend the night with me tonight.” Yous aid in a quite whisper, but he had no protest, he just nodded with a smile as he stood and picked you up, a,ing you help in surprise as your legs wrapped round his waist on instinct.
He carried you to your shared bedroom and placed you down into the bed and he went to change, when he tenured you was asleep against the soft pillows, the tea having worked its magic and your exhaustion catching up to you, he smiled down at your body as he got in bed careful besides your sleeping frame and pulled you into him, he was going to do better. He was going to be better, for you. He was.
—————
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turcott3 · 2 days
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First of all thank you for the Rempe content
Second of all, I’ve been thinking about this:
You’ve been dating Matt since just after he got to Seattle. You’re openly aware of his fighting and you don’t mind it but once he gets to the NHL you can’t help but let the media and the backlash get to you about Matt fighting. When he gets ejected from a game on a match penalty, you find yourself going down to see him, clearly upset and trying to drill into it him that he doesn’t have to fight all these people, he has nothing to prove. He doesn’t see it that way and you two go back and forth for a little while. He turns to you and says ‘this is who I am. I am working on it, I ask you to accept that’ or something like that and then you have to accept that his fighting is a thing but it doesn’t mean you’re happy about it still. So now every time he gets in a fight he brings you flowers and chocolate after the game
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kisses
matt rempe x fem! reader
warnings?: cursing, mild arguing, fluff, kisses
masterlist
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“matthew rempe.” you yell busting open the door.
“jesus you scared me.” he jumps, giggling.
“what have i fucking told you matt.” you say sternly as the boy sits down in front of you.
“what?” he shrugs.
“matt please for the love of god stop all this fighting crap. i mean it.” you press, tears welling up in your eyes.
“it’s fun, i never mean any harm by it.” he replies.
“matt, i know. but please. just stop. for your own sake and the sake of your health please. it hurts my heart having to stitch you up after every game. please just at least take a break from it, or only fight when it’s necessary. i just wanna see my boys face healthy again.” you say wiping a tear of frustration that fell.
“come here baby.” he says lowly, opening his arms for you to sit on his leg as you brushed his soft hair from his face.
“i’m sorry, i didn’t know you felt that way. i’ll try to dim it down okay? this is just the kind of player i choose to be y/n, and that’s how it is but i promise im gonna try to dial it down for you.” he says pressing a kiss to your temple.
“but just know if any guy ever chirps about you they’re dead, okay?” he giggles wiping your tears away gently with his thumb.
“okay.” you smile lightly, finding it hard to ever stay mad at him.
“and i’m sorry for getting ejected again, i know you like staying for the whole game.” he giggles with his chin rested on your shoulder in a hug.
“it’s okay baby. i can’t be mad at being able to have you at home sooner. i always miss you when i can’t come.” you giggle, scratching his scalp with your nails, something he always loved you doing.
“is it bad that i feel that way too.” he says pulling away, locking eyes with you.
“no it just means you love me.” you smile, squishing his cheeks like a baby before he pulls your hand away.
“would you stop that, you know i don’t like it.” he laughs
“well i think it’s funny, and i feel in this moment you deserved it.”
“touché”
-
“matt.” you mumble under your breath as you sat on the couch with a load of emails on your laptop, the game on your tv. of course, another fight. a much more evenly matched one this time. you shut your laptop with anxiety waiting for the final buzzer of the game to sound, eventually dozing off as your mind scrambled at what possible injuries you would have to ice or stitch tonight.
“y/n?” you wake up to the sound of matt’s voice in a low volume, trying not to startle you as his hand rested softly on your leg.
“what, huh? oh my gosh.” you say realizing that you had fallen asleep.
“i got you these.” matt says, revealing the gorgeous bouquet of roses and your favorite chocolate.
“awe matt what is this for?” you ask with your lip pouted, observing the sight in front of you. a beautiful bunch of roses and your beautiful boyfriend.
“for breaking my promise. i’m sorry baby.” he says as you lean over to kiss him on the lips.
“it’s okay my love, you know how hard it is for me to stay mad at you for literally anything. these are beautiful.” you smile lightly at him.
“i had to hand pick them, only the best for my beautiful girl.” he smiles kissing your hand delicately.
“but seriously, promise after tonight, im gonna try to be better.” he swears, setting the objects on the coffee table.
“all i ask is for you to try.” you reply as you stand up, wrapping yourself up in his large frame.
“i’ll think of you out there, every game. every time i get challenged. i swear to god i will.” he mumbles into your hair as he kisses you on top of the head.
“i love you so much.” you say looking up into his deep brown eyes.
“i love you too.” he smiles, leaning down to attach your lips once again.
-
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clockwayswrites · 11 hours
Text
Minx Part 2
Minx is a placeholder name, maybe Part 1, Masterpost CW: references to drug use, allusions to past torture, grabbing
Jason had to suck in several careful breaths as he took in the wound splashed across Danny’s ribs. “No fucking John did that to you and if they did—” if they took some sort of hot poker to Danny’s side— “I’ll kill them if they did.”
Danny blinked up at the ceiling, avoiding Jason’s gaze. “So the John thing may be a cover story?”
“Fuck’n—” Jason clenched and unclenched his hands, trying to work out the urge to punch someone. It wouldn’t do any good with no target to punch. Jason had kept an eye on Danny, best as he could without being invasive, and the other seemed clean of Gotham’s shit. “What are you messed up in Danny? Is it someone’s business? Did you see something you shouldn’t on the job? Hear something?”
“No— I mean, yeah I’ve heard things, but nothing to do with this. This is,” Danny’s hand moved to cover up the mark, as if hiding it would make the problem go away. “This is just some shit from my past catching up with me. It’s nothing you need to worry about, Boss, it’s not Gotham business.”
Jason held back a growl, pushed it back into his chest. “Did it happen in Gotham?”
“No, it happened down in sunny Florida— of course it happened in Gotham.”
“Then it’s fucking Gotham business.”
“Yeah, fuck it is, you stay away from it,” Danny snapped with a smile like a bear trap. He got up and grabbed his shirt with a waver. “Dealt with it anyway. It’s done and—”
Danny froze as Jason reached out to grab his arm.
“Danny—”
“You let go of me, Hood. I don’t care who the fuck you are, you do not grab me like this. No one grabs me like this.”
Jason slowly, carefully, lowered his hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to fall over but I shouldn’t have stopped you like that.”
“You fuck’n shouldn’t have.”
“I shouldn’t have,” Jason soothed. He wasn’t good at soothing, not any more, but he would try if it would stop Danny walking out of there injured like that. “Just sit back down and let me treat the wound. I’ll stop asking questions.”
Danny sized him up, eyes sharp with the perfect winged liner. Then he sighed and sat back down.
“Thank you,” Jason murmured as he rummaged around in the well stocked first aid kit for something to treat burn wounds. “How bad is the pain.”
Danny shrugged. He had his chin on his hand and was purposefully not looking at Jason.
Guess he was still in the dog house then.
“This will help the topical pain, but I know burns hurt deep. I’d like to give you something. Have you been drinking tonight?”
“You found me outside a pub,” Danny answered dryly.
“Doesn’t mean you were drinking, Danny, I know you know how to fake it.”
Danny sighed and tilted his head to glance up at Jason. He looked tired now, like the glamor had finally worn off with the stroke of midnight.
“Yeah, I was drinking. Helps with the pain and I knew I could take those shits drunk off my fake tits.”
“Bet you could,” Jason said, allowing himself a little smirk behind his helmet. He’s seen Danny play pool before and it was a thing of wounder. “Okay, we’ll do an IV then, rehydrate you and get some pain medication in your system in one go.”
“IV?” Danny repeated, his voice small.
“It won’t hurt, I can put them in smoothly,” Jason said as he started to work on treating the wound.
“Yeah, I’m sure you’re real gently like,” there was a wobble under Danny’s bravado and twang, ��but I’m not much fond of needles.”
“I’ll be here. I won’t leave you alone with it in.”
Danny snorted. “Yeah, gonna hold me the whole night so I don’t panic?”
“If that’s what will help,” Jason answered without hesitation. He could feel Danny watching him, judging him for that statement, but Jason just kept carefully working on the wound.
“Don’t be stupid, you can’t wear your helmet the whole night,” Danny said as if that would be the catch.
“Then I’ll take it off before I hold you the whole night so that you don’t panic.”
“Will you?”
“Said I would, didn’t I?”
Jason smoothed on the last of the gel.
“Yeah… okay,” Danny said with a tired sigh. “Okay, let’s try the IV.”
-
Jason sat with his back against the arm of the couch and the pillow propped there. One leg was against the back cushion and the other on the ground still. Danny, make-up washed off and dressed in a set Tim sized sweats, was tucked back against Jason’s chest.
It was easier to sit that way than take Danny staring at his face covered only in a domino and black hair spray on the white streak.
Jason gently ran an alcohol wipe over the inside of Danny’s arm.
And froze.
“Not what you think.” Danny’s voice sounded small and far away. “Hood, breathe.”
Jason sucked an unsteady breath. “What?”
“I said it’s not what you think. I’m not using. I was… sickly, when I was a teen. It’s— that’s why I don’t like IVs and needles and stuff.”
“Promise?”
“And cross my heart,” Danny said, going through the motion. “Girl Scout’s honor.”
Jason barked out a laugh that was still a little too sharp. “Yeah and I was a Boy Scout.”
“I don’t you, you do a lot of community service,” Danny said, draping his head back over Jason’s shoulder.
“Yeah, well, I work with different birds than eagles.”
Danny’s nose scrunched up.
Jason liked it better when he could see Danny’s pale freckles.
“Eagle Scouts are the highest level of Boy Scouts,” Jason explained.
“Why the fuck do you even know that?”
“I know a lot of shit,” Jason said.
Danny flinched at the pinch of the needle, but Jason had a good grip on Danny’s arm and was able to get the IV in fully. Jason soothed his thumb over it after he taped the IV down.
“There you are.”
“Don’t leave.”
“I won’t,” Jason promised. “I’m right here.”
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alittlebitofsainz · 3 days
Text
- why am I still writing pages? -
prompt: “but if the story’s over, why am I still writing pages?”
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
summary: you and your teammate are cursed by a case of right person, wrong time. but a crash makes you both reconsider everything.
warnings: implications of sex and mentions of a crash, but nothing explicit.
a/n: lyrics of course from track #16 death by a thousand cuts by taylor swift
masterlist | the spotify wrapped collection
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you knew it had been a bad idea.
right from the start, the voice in the back of your head was screaming at you not to do this. this was the only way it ever could’ve ended, and yet at the same time… you knew it would never end. not properly.
you could tell you and charles would get along from the moment you met; faces cracking into grins when you caught his eye across the debrief room, turning into whispers in ears about gossip from the rest of the grid, turning into subtle touches on the shoulder, on the knee, on the curve of your back as he passed by. you could feel yourself falling, even though you were trying so hard not to. and how could you not? he was charming, funny, handsome, and something about his unwavering determination, his dedication and commitment and loyalty to his team, to his dream, captured you in ways you never imagined anything could.
the first kiss was inevitable, a moment in his drivers room full of so much tension that you left to head to the first free practice session suspiciously breathless. the two of you danced around labelling whatever it was going on between you, until eventually there was no point pretending anymore; neither of you were interested in pursuing anybody else but each other.
but you were drivers. and drivers were competitive, and ambitious, and separating your off-track relationship from your on-track relationship…? let’s just say that difficult was an understatement.
“they told me what you said on the radio.”
charles had looked up, the irritation that had been on his face giving way to surprise as you appeared in the entrance of his drivers room. usually when you came to visit his drivers room the door was locked behind you, and when it reopened half an hour later you had to check the corridor to make sure no one saw you emerge with your hair a mess, cheeks flushed and your shirt still half unbuttoned. but this wasn’t one of those times. the tension in the air was not the welcome kind.
“what?” charles had the audacity to pretend to not to know what you were talking about.
“‘y/n’ is such a fucking idiot. what is she doing?’ don’t pretend you didn’t say it.” you replied. even having to repeat the words felt like a knife in your chest. you’d been fighting for a podium, and your defending had been a little… aggressive, more so than it probably should’ve been considering charles was your teammate. and your partner. charles sighed, dragging a hand down his face.
“I’m sorry. you know what it’s like out there. we all say things in the moment that we don’t really mean.” he apologised gently, weary eyes searching yours for any sign you forgiveness. you hummed in response, the anger that had built in you as you’d marched down the corridor from the garage to his drivers room dissipating the longer you had to process it. charles held his arms out to you, and you let out a sigh as you knew that you would forgive him, crawling into his lap as he murmured apologies into your ear.
it hadn’t been that incident that had caused your relationship to break down. it had been an accumulation of all the times that followed, all the little comments and digs over the radio about each other when you were fighting on track. it was the way the media continually pitted you against each other, the two of you constantly leap-frogging each other in the drivers standings, rumours of renewing of contracts and in-team fighting that eventually became all consuming and impossible to ignore. when charles had looked at you with a face like thunder that masked the true pain he felt, telling you he didn’t think he could do this anymore, you couldn’t find any reason to argue. to fight what was happening. maybe this was just right person, wrong time, you’d agreed. maybe in another life.
it had hurt, but at least you’d remained friends, even if it was only due to the forced proximity that came from driving for the same team every weekend. and without the added pressure of a relationship, things between you and charles actually improved, after a while. first the smiles across the room came back. and then the two of you started gossiping again, giggling at secrets that only the two of you knew, footage of you, charles and pierre laughing together during the drivers parade appearing all over social media. and then the touches, the brushing of skin, the blush creeping up into your cheeks as his fingers caught on yours as you walked side by side through the paddock. the way his knee pressed against yours during a press conference when a question came up about your crash the weekend before, the one that had had charles racing to the medical centre as soon as the race was over, almost in tears just at the sight of you.
“I came as soon as I- merde, y/n, are you okay?”
charles’ voice was shaky, his heavy breathing revealing just how quickly he’d rushed over from the garage. the race wouldn’t be restarted for at least another half an hour, the barriers requiring extensive repair work after the damage you’d caused, giving charles just enough time to come and see you.
“I’m fine, charles.” you waved him off as you pushed yourself up with a groan, “it wasn’t even that bad, I-“
“wasn’t that bad?” he cut you off, eyebrows creasing into a frown as he perched himself on the bed beside you hesitantly, cautiously, as if scared to move for fear of hurting you. “y/n, it looked… awful. for a moment I wondered-“
“I got lucky.” it was your turn to do the interrupting, not wanting charles to go down that train of thought any further. “I’m fine, I promise. a bad concussion and… everything hurts, but nothing serious.”
you’d never seen charles cry before - even when things had ended between the two of you, he’d made sure to do that in private. it broke your heart, to know he thought, if only for a moment, that he’d come so close to losing you, and you leaned forward to pull him into your arms, ignoring the ache in your limbs.
since that weekend, you and charles had fallen back into an old routine. it was dangerous, but just like that very first kiss, it had been inevitable. neither of you wanted to cross that invisible line again, both too scared of repeating past mistakes. you couldn’t afford that type of heartbreak again. but you knew your story wasn’t over. not yet.
a/n: this was becoming longer than I intended, so I might do a second part to wrap it up properly :)
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ham1lton · 3 days
Text
another day, another drama.
pairing: lando norris x fellow driver’s sister!reader.
summary: the one where you think o/s is hiding something from you, so with the help of your boyfriend and his friends, you try to figure it out. too bad you find more than you bargained for.
author’s note: part of the nepo sister universe. i fear we might be coming to the end of the nsu soon…. also there is a poll at the end, help a struggling writer out and vote pls mwah.
— part one | part two (coming soon).
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liked by oldersistersbff, yourbff and 287,737 others.
yourusername: just saw these pics of my bf and burst into tears. fuck f1 for taking my bf and my sister away from me….
oscarpiastri: ur welcome ☺️
-> yourusername: SICK SICK MAN!!!! 😒😒
user1: not u acting like a war widow 😭
-> yourusername: my husband (boyfriend) has been taken as a prisoner of war (forced to do his job) thousands of miles away (no this part is actually real).
user9: i’m new to this. are they lovers?
-> user8: worse.
*liked by oscarpiastri.*
formula1: we apologise yourusername! but you’ll see him soon we promise! :)
-> yourusername: RETURN MY BF IMMEDIATELY….
-> user5: girl what about your sister??
-> yourusername: she’ll be fine 😘
user6: girl um did u see ur sister’s newest interview???
-> yourusername: no??!! BRB!
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liked by zendaya, simonebiles and 3,288,728 others.
vogue: the paddock’s princess came to talk to us about being our newest cover girl, winning her most recent championship, going viral, her love life and what her favourite smoothie combination is.
user3: shes so cute 🥺🥺
user1: o/s has been notoriously single since her breakup with paul like five years ago… why is she giggling and smiling when asked about a man???
-> user2: no i noticed that… omg is she seeing someone?
user7: face card never declines!
user4: when gav told her that she’d won and the first thing she did when she left the car was hug him and cry??? she’s so cute. i’m so glad i live in the y/n domination era.
-> user5: the edits with that video are sick… o/s is keeping the tiktok editors in business.
-> user9: have you seen the ones about her and lando to the song lacy??? INSANE…
-> user5: DM ME RN
user31: her saying she doesn’t ever want to be defined by her wins and rather by who she is a person. we love a charitable queen!
yourusername: love life… hmmm….
-> user4: oh no….. she’s plotting 😭
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liked by oldersistersbff, user72 and 2,833,617 others.
oldersister: family reunion.
yourusername: no credits for the pics??
-> oldersister: no. you take enough credit from my card.
-> yourusername: … fair.
user1: she’s deadass married wth.
-> user6: family reunion out of nowhere? talking about her love life suddenly after years of not even having one? photographed with two separate men?? shopping with o/s/bff in a bridal boutique and cordoning off the area?? it’s adding up sis ur not even delusional for this one….
user9: WHO’S UR MAN @/oldersister
user5: stop with the married jokes y’all…. i can’t lose my queen to some MAN….
user3: are you planning on changing ur surname from l/n.
-> oldersister: never.
-> user16: oh so you do see these comments…
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SPYING TRANSCRIPT - THURSDAY, 6PM.
- written by LANDO NORRIS, for his boss Y/N L/N.
LANDO NORRIS - i think she’s dating carlos. i’m putting my cards out there.
OSCAR PIASTRI - put your cards back. no way that’d happen. i think she’s dating someone else. look at these photos. that guy isn’t carlos.
DANIEL RICCARDO - just tell y/n she’s dating me and we can all go to sleep. i mean look at my incredible good looks, it would be sacrilegious to not want me.
PIASTRI - if she was gonna go for the hottest driver on the grid she’d go for lewis or charles.
CHARLES LECLERC - oh thank you oscar! very nice.
NORRIS - you’re moving away from the point. wait… is someone knocking on the door?
(everyone looks at each other concerned)
RICCIARDO - oh i ordered pizza. i forgot. my bad!
LECLERC - how about her dating another athlete? someone who understands this life but won’t affect her position here.
NORRIS - smart… what athlete has she been seen with recently?
PIASTRI - according to social media, simone biles?
NORRIS - isn’t she married? nah, who else.
RICCIARDO - she was telling me the other day that she went to the psg game. i asked her why and she said she had a friend who played for them.
LECLERC - kylian mbappé? that makes a lot of sense actually….
NORRIS - do you feel a kin to him? i mean, you’re both frenchmen after all.
(OSCAR PIASTRI would like the transcript to include the following: — after this, charles hit lando. i laughed.)
PIASTRI - it could be that this is all a big misunderstanding. she could have been shopping for a bridesmaid dress. why would she get married and not tell her sister who she’s incredibly close to? that makes no sense to me.
RICCIARDO - anyways….
NORRIS - what about leonardo dicaprio!
LECLERC - she is under 25….
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dazednmatthews · 2 days
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sick!matt headcanons
based on this ask n answer i saw on my feed!! all credits to both of these amazing ppl for the idea!!!
-matt is definitely the type to be a whiny mess when he’s sick
-we alr know his ass is in his room and sleep 24/7 but the second he starts to feel even a little bit ill he’s in there with blinds drawn and bundled in his blankets so tight
-he’d be texting you every second he is awake though, begging to see you
-“please baby. i just want to be next to you.”
-and ofc course you don’t give a damn about getting sick because that’s your man and you’re gonna stick beside him!
-“i know, honey, i’m coming. gotta stop at the store to get you some things.”
-matt always likes to find new shows to watch. it’s like his thing, but when he’s sick it’s a constant marathon of all his comfort shows and movies.
-“can we watch taken?”
-“again?”
- “it’s such a good movie, babe. liam neeson is just too good not to be a real spy.”
-“whatever you want, matty.”
-you love taking care of him, but getting him to take medicine is the most annoyed you feel
-“that shit tastes so bad, i’m not drinking that.”
-“do you want to feel better or not?”
- you’d argue back and forth for a little while but you get your way regardless
-“matt if you don’t take this fucking cough syrup, i’m going home.”
-“…fine. where is it?”
-a lot of naps. constant napping.
-you’re both cocooned underneath several blankets, legs intertwined, matt’s head on your chest. he’s been in and out of sleep all day while you’ve been watching the movie playing softly on the t.v. your hands are running through his hair affectionately. his hands are wrapped around your waist tightly. you think this is the closest to heaven you’ve ever been.
-when you eventually have to get up, you do your best to unwrap yourself from his hold, but his ass will not let go.
-“where are you going?” his voice is thick with sleep and a little nasally cause of his congestion.
-“babe, i have to pee.” you pat his head affectionately. “you’re gonna have to let me up.”
-“nooooooo,” here comes the whining again. “stay.”
-“the quicker you let me up, the quicker i’ll be back, matt.”
-chris and nick make fun of him so bad for it.
-“he’s fucking insufferable when he’s sick. i don’t know how you’re doing it right now.” nick says.
-“he’s not that bad,” you roll your eyes while heating up some soup for the two of you.
-chris laughs, “this is hilarious. big, bad, tough guy matt getting his ass kicked by a cold.” he’s much more happy than he should be at that. “mr. tough guy getting spoon fed soup by his girlfriend.”
-you let them have their fun for a while before you light heartedly shut them up. “lets not forget that mr. tough guys girlfriend has cleaned up your-” you point at nick, “vomit, and has also babied you when you got your ass kicked by a sunburn.”
-they shut up after that
-sleepy matt is one of your favorite versions of him
-when you come back into the room he’s sat up against the headboard shirtless, doing that cute thing where he rubs his eyes incessantly, blankets pooled at his waist
-his hair is strewn about, fluffy and wispy. he stretches, enough for you to see the top of his pj pants
-he looks at you as you enter, gatorade and soup balanced in your hands
-you put the dishes and drinks on the bed side table and he smiles at you oh so warmly
-he moves from his spot to the side of the bed where you stand, opening his legs for your to go in between them. he looks up at you, pulling you towards him. your hands find his shoulders, kneading softly.
-“thank you, baby.”
-“of course, matty. you’ve gotta stay hydrated if you’re gonna get better.”
-“no, not for the soup. well, yes for the soup, but i mean for everything. for staying with me. for taking care of me. i know i’m a lot right now.”
-he looks sheepish, so you bend down to kiss his cheek.
-“you’d do the same for me.”
-you stay there for a couple sweet moments, his face pressed into your stomach and your hands playing with the hair at the nape of his neck
-eventually you both lay back in bed, ending the day doing your favorite thing, just holding each other
-of course you end up sick
-you’re a lot better at being sick than matt but it never matters
-he’s babying you just the same
-“can’t believe being a good girlfriend got me sick. i hate you.”
-he rubs your back while your head is in his lap
-“i’m sorry sweetheart. don’t worry, though. i’ll take good care of you. just rest.”
-you’re not worried in the slightest. he always does.
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syrupfog · 2 days
Text
Sanji who just wants a job as a sous chef but has yet to be hired, but has somehow managed to enter the world of being a private chef for extremely wealthy families. 
He hates them they remind him of childhood but he needs the cash. 
He starts working for Mihawk.
Mihawk who only eats odd, simple foods. Things that Sanji feels insulted to make. A LOT of toast with cream cheese and jam, honestly. 
Sanji’s bored out of his mind (he starts canning the fruit from Mihawk’s garden to pass the time)
Then one day, bursting through the front door come two people his own age, a woman with pink hair and a man with green, DEMANDING to know why Mihawk moved without TELLING THEM, HIS OWN CHILDREN
Sanji immediately pegs them for stuck up assholes. He’s grown to respect Mihawk, at least (he’s better than the Charlottes were). Spoiled rich adult kids who expect their lifestyles to be funded. Ugh. 
Mihawk blinks and says that he DID tell them.
There’s a lot more shouting as Sanji quietly pickles beets in the background. They come to some sort of truce around the idea that Zoro (the green haired one) lost his phone, and Perona (pink hair) blocked his number after Mihawk called at 2am about his yams.
They’re good yams, Sanji thinks. 
He also learns that they were on a “road trip of self discovery”. He’s not sure what that means. It sounds like rich kid speak for “spending spree”.
They integrate into the household though and, after being introduced to Sanji, Perona demands pink. Anything strawberry. 
Zoro says he’ll eat anything. Sanji doubts that. 
He tests it. 
He makes extravagant dishes. 
Zoro doesn’t seem to even notice, eating without complaint.
Honestly it’s good practice. He uses it as an excuse to get back into the hang of the fanciest things Zeff taught. 
But he still doesn’t like them. Rich assholes. Mihawk’s simple toasts get him a pass.
One thing about Zoro though is that he seems to spend all his time working out, so he comes looking for food at the ODDEST times. And SOMETIMES Sanji is ASLEEP. He’s got a room in the old servants’ quarters and Zoro will appear at any hour.
After the third time being awoken at 2am, Sanji snaps. 
“I’m preparing you a fucking shelf full of onigiri,” he says, pointing with a judgmental finger at Zoro’s chest. “That’s going to be your midnight snack from now on! Some of us need our beauty rest!”
Zoro blinks down at the finger. “Okay,” he says. “I mean. You clearly need it.” 
Sanji scoffs in outrage. He’s still half asleep. He aims a kick at Zoro’s head before he can process his one rule (“don’t hurt clients”). 
Zoro dodges. 
His face breaks out into a grin.
“Didn’t know you had it in you, Curls,” he says. 
Sanji stumbles. He regains his footing and stomps down the hall, face aflame. 
He makes thirty onigiri. 
Zoro eats seven. 
“There, that’ll last you three more nights,” Sanji says.
Zoro nods. “So what time do I wake you up to get you to fight me again?” 
Sanji splutters. “No!!” He shrieks. “It’s three in the morning! I know you’re a rich fuck with nothing to do but some of us have jobs! I’m on call 24/7 here!” 
…he regrets it as soon as he says it.
Expects to be fired on the spot. 
Zoro frowns. He crosses his arms. “Fine,” he says, tersely. “Go to bed.” 
Sanji… does. He avoids turning his back on Zoro as he leaves the room, a bad feeling churning in his gut.
When he makes breakfast the next morning, he’s expecting to be fired as soon as Mihawk arrives, but Mihawk mentions nothing. 
Neither do Perona or Zoro when they appear, hours later. 
Sanji feels like he’s walking on eggshells until Zoro appears in his kitchen in early afternoon.
“Hey,” says Zoro. “I talked to my dad.” 
Sanji hangs his head. “So I’m fired?” He asks, dread pooling in his stomach. 
“Fucking what? No, Jesus. I just said you should have a regular work shift. Only like, ten hours on call.” 
“So you docked my pay,” Sanji says flatly.
“Now you’re being an ass,” Zoro growls. “NO, you’re being paid the same, you’re just going to have time off when I can’t bug you. That cool?” 
Sanji frowns, suspicious. “What do you get out of it?” He asks. 
Crossing his arms, Zoro scoffs. “Not getting yelled at at 2am, mostly.”
“You could’ve just not woken me up,” Sanji says. 
“You make it real hard to be nice to you, Cook,” Zoro says, running a hand through his hair. “I know you don’t like me, but I was just trying to do something nice.” 
Sanji melts a little, but he’s not willing to give in entirely. “Well thanks,” he says. “For not firing me, too.” 
Zoro rolls his eyes. “We’ve all had shitty jobs where we want to yell at customers,” He says. 
“Now I KNOW you’re lying,” Sanji argues. “I know how rich you are. I know what Mihawk pays me.”
Zoro looks… funny at him. “Did he ever happen to mention that we’re adopted?” 
Sanji blinks. Thinks of Zeff. “Uh, no?” 
“Yeah,” Zoro says. “Fucking Daddy Warbucks situation. I was seventeen. Trust me, I know customer service. Had to work to eat.”
“Well that’s not fair,” Sanji says. “Now I feel like a fucking ass.” 
“You ARE a fucking ass,” Zoro says. “Want to fight when you’re off work? Officially your shift ends at 6 now.” 
“Dinner is for seven so that won’t work.” Sanji says. “Shut up I have a chef’s integrity.”
“You’re not turning down fighting me?” Zoro asks, sounding oddly hopeful. 
“You spend all day working out so it’ll be unfair,” Sanji says. “But sure, I’ll kick your ass. Winner chooses what filling goes in your onigiri.” 
“Spicy salmon,” Zoro says. 
“Pickled plums,” muses Sanji.
They do end up fighting after dinner, out in Mihawk’s fancy topiary garden (he maintains it himself). 
Bruised and panting, they end up making out behind the large rabbit-shaped tree. 
It becomes A Thing.
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madaqueue · 2 days
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then beg
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pairing: suguru geto x f!reader
a/n: BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK srry guys idk what came over me when i was writing this (i need him so bad)
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you aren’t sure how much longer you can hold out, your teeth biting down into your lower lip so hard you could nearly taste blood.
“c’mon now, sweetheart, just one little word and this’ll all be over,” your boyfriend purrs above you, his black hair cascading over his shoulders and tickling your bare skin.
you shake your head no, grasping onto any remaining pieces of resolve, collecting the shreds of your determination, to last just one more minute - that’s all you need, you try to reassure yourself.
truthfully, you never thought you’d be the one in this position - after all, it was you who originally made the bet with suguru.
you had put up with enough of his teasing, enough of being called ‘needy’ for just wanting to kiss him, and today you decided to stand up for yourself.
when he walked into your apartment, he just looked so perfect in his work clothes, his dress shirt rolled up above his elbows, his bangs falling across his forehead, how could you not want to fuck him on the spot?
“you’re so sweet when you’re all desperate like this,” he chuckles as you paw at his belt before he even has a chance to get his shoes off.
“suguru, i’m not that desperate,” you huff, stepping back and crossing your arms over your chest in defiance.
"oh yeah?" he tilts his head in amusement. "you couldn’t even wait ten minutes from when i got home, you needed me to fuck you so bad.”
“yeah. and you know what? i’ll prove it,” you state confidently. “ten minutes. i bet you i can go ten minutes without you fucking me.” 
“you’ve got yourself a deal, angel,” he smirks, slowly waltzing over to you. his hands meet your waist, his touch sending shockwaves through you as his palms kneed the soft flesh of your ass.
“d-deal,” you stammer, conviction beginning to waver as he leans over, placing wet kisses along your neck.
and now, it’s been nine minutes of geto cruelly teasing you, bringing you to the brink of your release before pulling back.
he rubs his cock over your slick folds, the pressure driving you insane as you rut your hips up off the bed, craving anything more he’s willing to give you.
but, of course, he was not going to lose so easily.
“you poor needy thing,” he coos, watching you writhe in agony below him. “i told you, all you have to do is say ‘please’ and i’ll fuck you.”
it was becoming too much, the constant taunting and temptation overwhelming you. your body felt like it was on fire, everywhere he touches igniting new flames.
before you can stop yourself, your lips move on their own.
“please,” you blurt out weakly.
“what was that, princess? couldn’t quite hear you,” he teases, holding a hand up to his ear.
“please, pleasepleasepleaseplease,” you babble desperately, “please fuck me, please suguru, please.”
with your eyes tightly shut you can’t see the way he grins, more than happy to give into your demands.
without a moment of hesitation he thrusts into you easily, a moan escaping your lips as you finally get what you had been craving. your warm walls envelop him as your eyes nearly roll back, your pussy beginning to clench around him.
“h-hah,” he whispers, “don’t tell me you’re gonna cum already, i knew you were desperate but fuck.”
his words sound fuzzy, far away; right now, all you can feel is him, the fullness, the stretch, the sweet burning pleasure of his cock inside you. after what felt like an eternity of being denied it, you get suddenly pushed over the edge of your orgasm.
“p-please,” you moan, the words aimlessly tumbling out of your mouth, “please, please.”
your vision goes white as your entire body shakes, racked with wave after wave of ecstasy. broken pleas continue to fill the room, and you’re not even sure what you’re begging for anymore, you just know that you need more.
as you come down from your high, you finally open your eyes to meet suguru’s, a glimmer of desire in his dark irises.
you feel his thumb stroke the tears off your face that you hadn’t realized were falling before he wipes the drool that had pooled at the corner of your open mouth away. he kisses you messily, his tongue easily sliding between your parted lips, his cock still buried inside you.
“you really are needy,” he breathes in awe through a smirk, “but since you asked so nicely, i’ll keep fucking you like the desperate slut you are, how’s that sound?”
blinking up at him through glazed-over eyes, you nod. “please?”
123 notes · View notes
scoonsalicious · 2 days
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Unwanted: Chapter 25, Unprotected - Pt. 3
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,
WARNING: THIS PART HAS A MAJOR THEME THAT SHOULD HAVE A WARNING, BUT I DO NOT WANT TO SPOIL THE PLOT. THEREFORE, IF THERE IS SOMETHING YOU FEAR YOU MAY NOT BE ABLE TO HANDLE, *PLEASE* DM ME FOR THE WARNING BEFORE READING!
Word Count: 1.7k
Previously On...: Uh... something went horribly wrong.
A/N: BUCKY IS BACK, and just in time <3
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43
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You weren’t sure what woke you up– the incessant beeping or the dull ache between your legs. 
“Ugh, Sam, turn off your fucking alarm clock,” you muttered, pulling your blanket above your head. When had the apartment lights gotten so hideously bright? “Sam’s not here, doll. ‘Fraid it’s just me.”
Your eyes shot open at the sound of his voice, and you slowly pulled the blanket down from your face. You were lying on a bed in the middle of a hospital suite, and Bucky Barnes was sitting in an armchair in the corner. He looked haggard, as if he hadn’t done anything but worry and fret since arriving. 
“What the fuck are you doing here?” you asked him, fighting to keep your voice steady. You’d hoped time would have helped lessen the pain you felt at the sight of him, but no– he still tore at your heart.
“You never changed your emergency contact,” he said, getting up from his chair to sit at the edge of your bed. Lovely. You were going to have to re-traumatize yourself because you hadn’t been assed to update fucking paperwork. 
You rubbed your eyes with your hands. “What happened?” you asked.
“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Bucky said. He reached for you but you, but you pulled away, leaving him to frown at the space where your hand had been. “All they would tell me was that your distress beacon was activated, and when SHIELD operatives responded to your safehouse, they found you passed out in a pool of blood. They had you in surgery when I got here.”
“Surgery?” You began patting your body, searching for bandages or stitches, some sign of an incision, but you found nothing. “I don’t feel like I had surgery.”
Bucky shrugged. “That’s all they told me. Since I’m technically not family, they wouldn’t say anything more.” You scoffed. He was a lot less than ‘technically not family’.
“Well, I’m not dead,” you said dismissively, “so no reason for you to stay.” You shooed him away with a flap of your wrists. “Go on home now.”
Bucky snorted. “All laid up in the hospital and still, you got jokes,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere. Sam called Steve on his way to the airport, told him what went down with A.J., so looks like you’re in need of a new mission partner.” The smirk behind his eyes was enough to make you sneer.
“No,” you said, crossing your arms, and you were sure you looked very intimidating in your hospital gown with an IV sticking out of your hand. “I’m good, thanks. Don’t need any help, especially not yours.”
Bucky rolled his eyes at you. “Always so stubborn,” he chided. “Doesn’t matter what you want, doll. Captain’s orders; I’m here to stay, at least until Sam gets back.”
Fucking wonderful. As if you didn’t have enough to worry about, with girls getting murdered, Hydra funding the Wiggle Room, you randomly bleeding out and collapsing, and poor A.J.’s condition still unknown. Maybe there was something so seriously wrong with you, they’d make you go back to the Tower to recover and Bucky would be forced to stay down here, alone. God, was that actually what you were hoping for, now? Your life had indeed gone to shit.
There was a soft knock on your door and a man in a white doctor’s coat and glasses entered, carrying a clipboard.
“Ms. (Y/L/N)?” he asked. When you nodded, he continued: “I’m Dr. Carson; I’ve been attending to you during your stay with us. I’m glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?”
You barked out a humorous laugh. “Like I’ve been thoroughly fucked by a cactus, Doc. Care to explain what the hell happened to me?”
Bucky suppressed a snort as the doctor blushed and averted his gaze. “Yes, well, it’s quite normal to experience some mild discomfort following a D&C,” he began.
You sat up straighter, positive you had misheard him. “I’m sorry,” you interrupted, “a fucking what now?” He couldn’t have said what you thought you heard him say.
Dr. Carson coughed. “A Dilation and Curettage,” he explained. “It’s a procedure to–”
“Oh, I know what it’s fucking is,” you said, raising your voice. “What I don’t understand is why I would even need one in the first place!” Except you did. There was only one reason, and it made everything make perfect sense– the vomiting, the fatigue, all of it. 
Before the doctor could answer you, Bucky spoke up: “Uh, I don’t know what it is. One of you care to explain to me what the hell all this means?”
“It’s none of your fucking business, Barnes,” you grumbled, just as the doctor spoke over you:
“It’s a surgical procedure that requires dilation of the cervix and the removal of tissue from the uterus,” he said. “In this case, that would be necrotic fetal tissue.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
“Um, okay,” Bucky said as he considered the doctor’s words. You watched as the realization came over his face. “Holy shit. Fetal tissue? Like… like a baby?”
Dr. Carson nodded slowly. “Yes.” He turned back to face you. “I’m very sorry for your loss, Ms. (Y/L/N), but it appears that you’ve experienced what we call a spontaneous miscarriage. Near as we can figure, you were about sixteen weeks along.”
You brought both hands to your temples. Was this real life? 
“Were you not aware you were pregnant?” the doctor asked, taking in the look of complete shock on your face. “When was the date of your last period?”
Before you could control yourself, you began laughing with the absolute absurdity of the entire situation. “I’ve been slightly preoccupied,” you managed to get out. “Between the baby’s father” you thumbed at Bucky, “cheating on me with my greatest enemy, working undercover to save a bunch of women from sex trafficking and now solving a murder, too, I guess, so forgive me if I haven’t really been keeping track.”
The look Dr. Carson gave you then was a mixture of concern and alarm, and you were fairly confident he was this close to having you held for a mandatory psych eval. Good; you could benefit from a vacation.
“Could, you, uh,” Bucky cleared his throat, “give us a moment alone, please, doctor? I’m sure Pock– I mean (Y/N) needs a minute to collect herself, to process.”
“Yes, of course,” Dr. Carson said, seeming relieved that one of you appeared sane, at least. “I’ll send a nurse over in a little while to check your vitals, and we can see about getting you discharged.”
Bucky nodded and offered the doctor his thanks on your behalf, because you were still laughing. Dr. Carson left the room, his haste evident. 
“Pocket,” Bucky said, trying to get your attention, but you ignored him. “Pocket,” he tried again, this time grabbing both your shoulders in his hands and gently shaking them. “Hey, get yourself together, come on!”
Your laughter tapered away and you wiped a tear away from your eye. “Oh my god,” you exhaled. “I’m sorry, but this is just… I’ve been running around pregnant for four fucking months? Come on! That’s, like, an entire third of a year! You gotta admit, that’s fucking insane!”
Bucky studied you. “You really didn’t know?”
You snorted. “Of course not! If I knew, I wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with, because I would have taken care of it the second I found out.”
A frown took over Bucky’s face. “What do you mean, ‘take care of it’?” he asked. 
“I mean, like, I would have aborted it,” you said, as though the answer was so unbelievably obvious that it was stupid of him to have even asked, but Bucky’s frown deepened. “You can’t honestly think I would have kept it?”
“It was our baby, Pocket,” he said after a beat, his voice a rough whisper. “You would have killed our baby?!”
You rolled your eyes. “What? Just because you knocked me up, I’m supposed to forget everything you put me through and play happy co-parents with you and step mommy Carthage for the next eighteen years? No fucking thank you.”
“I would have married you,” he said, and you noticed for the first time that his voice was full of sorrow, his eyes lined with tears. Jesus Christ, this was hurting him. “We would have raised him or her together. Been a family.”
You laughed, the sound harsh and awkward to your own ears. “There’s no way in hell I’d marry you,” you told him. “Not after what you did. A clump of cells doesn’t just absolve you from your sins.”
“That was our child,” Bucky said, with so much anguish in his voice that you pulled yourself back. “That was a baby we made, out of our love, and you’re talking about it like it’s… it’s inconvenient garbage.”
“Yeah, well, I guess the trash took itself out,” you said bitterly.
Bucky looked at you in abject horror. “You don’t mean that,” he said, as though trying to convince himself as much as you. “You’re… you’re in shock. You’ve been through a trauma, and you’re not thinking straight.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You don’t mean that,” he reiterated.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, James.” You turned your head away from him, not wanting to see the way he was looking at you, as if you were a complete stranger. 
The suite’s door opened again, and a nurse came in, dragging a portable computer cart behind her. Saved by the vitals, you thought.
“This conversation isn’t over,” Bucky said under his breath, and you sighed, knowing that you weren’t going to be able to table this discussion for long, but not knowing what he hoped to get out of you. 
He couldn’t seriously have expected you to want to have had a baby with him, could he? Not after everything. To be forced into close proximity with him for the next two decades, and be tied together for the rest of your lives with a constant reminder of what could have been, should have been, with what he prevented you from ever having? That was just… delusional. 
Even though, if you had given yourself a chance to truly think about it, outside of the initial shock of it all, that was what you would have wanted, too.
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gr7mes · 2 days
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PHOTOGRAPH “we keep this love in a photograph.” carl grimes x fem!reader
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tags: angst, death, use of y/n, 8x9, some fluff
a/n: first angst, i was bawling my eyes out while writing this 😓. based off photograph by ed sheeran, lyrics r in italics. i hope ygs enjoy!!
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loving can hurt sometimes. you never really understood how much until now.
FLASHBACK. 
“we should do something.” carl says, fiddling with your promise ring which he got you. he saw it while on a run and thought it was pretty, “pretty items for a pretty girl.” he thought. you were sitting criss cross applesauce in front of him, him doing the same. both of his hands were interlinked with yours, giving light squeezes. “and what’s that?” you ask. “we should take a photo. you know for the future.” “for the future?” “like to show our kids.” you wanted to kiss him until you couldn’t breathe. did he really just say that? did he mean it? this boy would be the death of you. 
“wait okay so- i just do a random pose?” you say, looking at the camera carl held in his hand. “up to you baby.” he never failed to make you feel special. you were so in love, and you knew he was too. “m’ ready!” “sweet.” he angles the camera to fit you both into the frame before you press your lips onto his cheek. his lips curve up into a smile before you hear the click sound from the camera. 
carl held the photo of you both in his hand, examining every part of it. mostly examining you. the way your hair fell perfectly upon your face, the way your lips looked perfect on his skin. god, he just knew he was going to make you his wife one day. you giggled at the light kiss stain you left on his cheek. 
PRESENT TIME.
you held the necklace you got when you were fifteen, heavy tears flowing down your face at a rapid pace.
FLASHBACK.
“carl.. you didn’t.” you say, looking at the beautiful silver heart locket in the small black box carl handed to you. “you like it?” he says, grinning from ear to ear. “i love it. i- you didn’t have to.” you say, your eyes getting mistier by the second. “don’t cry pretty girl.” he says, putting his hand on your cheek. “i love you so much carl.” “i love you more.” 
PRESENT TIME.
holding him closer til’ our eyes meet. did it have to end like this?
FLASHBACK. 
“carl you can’t leave me like this. i wo- i won’t allow it. this isn’t fucking fair.” you say, hitting carl’s chest softly. you were so angry, and sad, you didn’t know how to feel. “y/n you’ll be fine. i know you will. you’re a strong girl. it’ll b-“ 
“what about- what about the plans we made? who am i supposed to talk to late at night when i have nightmares? w-who am i supposed to cry about stupid things to? carl i can’t do this without you.” you started to choke on your words, the realization hitting deeper and deeper that you would never get to see, to talk to, to hold, to kiss, to love carl grimes ever again. 
carl pulls you into his chest for one last hug. you embraced him tightly, trying to make the best of it while it lasted. he then cupped your face and pressed his forehead onto yours. “my girl, my y/n, i love you.” 
PRESENT TIME.
you kept his last words deep within your soul. your hands quivered as you slowly opened the piece of paper which carl left for you. your heart stopped when you saw his handwriting. all of his words written on the paper. you wished it could’ve lasted longer. you wished you had more time with him. 
“my dearest y/n. i remember when we first met. you looked so scared. you were always quiet, always alone. i felt so bad for you. i would always admire from afar, watching the wind blow through your hair. you were so pretty. i don’t know how i ended up having you as my girlfriend, but it’s the best thing i could’ve ever experienced. 
i know you’re sad. i know you’re angry. i’m frustrated too. i meant it when i said i wanted to show the photos to our kids. i meant it every single time i said i love you. because i am truly in love with you. every part of you. and nothing will ever change that. in another lifetime we will reunite once again. i will always be with you. don’t ever be scared. we keep this love in a photograph. we made all of these memories for ourselves.
so you can keep me, hidden in the pocket of your ripped jeans. you won’t ever be alone. wait for me to come home.” 
you look at the photo which fell to the floor while you were reading the letter. quiet laughs mixed with sobs come out of your mouth when you remember that day. forever you will have this memory. captured in a photograph. 
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2309analysis · 2 days
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Luffy smut — My Sweet Cherry ⟢
This was very indulgent. I was extremely horny, and I wanted to see a very specific submissive Luffy. So, I just decided to make it myself. (It’s hard to find sub!Luffy) I’m very satisfied with how this has turned out. I think it’s one of the best, if not the best things I’ve written.
Word count: 3351. Pages: 6. TWs: Pegging (possibly thinking about getting rid of it), overstimulation, shaking orgasm, chokehold, restraints, cussing, begging, blow job (head), fingering, male receiving, mentions of edging, edging.
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Sweating, aching dick, constant denial. He was on the verge of begging and losing his sanity for you. Tied up, on your lap, close to your face. Both noses practically grazing each other. Heavy breathes. Squirming with anticipation. A firm hand holding his neck on the side. Caressing his firm skin.
“You’re such a good boy. You’re so pretty like this. Strapped up against the bed frame, edged against your will. Ooh, baby, you’re wonderful. You’re all mine. I’m the only one who gets to see you like this. You’re way too precious for anyone else’s eyes.” You don’t exactly praise, nor egg on, but it gets him panting. He’s shaking just by your words, weak, and delicate, sensitive as hell.
Naked for only your view. Hickey’s all over. Drool running from his mouth on all ends. “P-please, mommy, just relieve me. I-I can’t focus like this. You’re too much — uhghhh! M-mommy…” You softly touch his nipples, and sucking on the other one. Taking him by surprise, sending chills down his spin. He shivers through the coldness and warmth of your mouth.
Twitches. Slight twitches from his legs kneeled on your lap. Your free hand over his mouth, preventing him from turning into a moaning mess. You’ve edged him all week. Pinning him to a wall and giving him a quickie before his high. Then suddenly return to your other duties. Almost trembling, he blushes fiercely and shakily walks off.
“Oh, my baby… are you having a rough time? You’re too adorable to just please immediately. I want to help, but first, I want to experiment. Break you. Weaken your senses. Make you dizzy. Fill you up with so much pleasure you will go drunk just from touch. I’m obsessed with you. You’re all I need. You’re my sanity.” Softly massaging his back. With cold hands, he squirms some more. Blushing like hell, and embarrassed, he closes his eyes to avoid eye-contact.
“N-nghhh… please, please, please, please, please just fuck me already!” He squirms under your touch. You smile even wider. “Be patient, my cherry.” You whisper to his ears. Softly licking them. He feverishly whines and whimpers. “Ugh… how long do I need to wait? I’ve been a good boy, haven’t I?” You seductively hold up his chin and force him to watch you smirk and sexily stare him down.
“Yes, my baby boy. You have. Although, teasing you is so much funnier than just hitting it off. Wouldn’t you agree? I love you so much. I’d do anything for you, but to edge you on, oh, baby, that’s my favorite part.” He wraps his legs around your waist. Giving in. Yearning for at least a kiss. “Can I at least get a kiss to ease my pain? Please, mommy, I want you so bad…” You kiss his neck, and cheeks. “Mmmmh, maybe, but I want to search your body s’more.”
As you kiss his delicate, and desperate body, he starts to gulp and sweat more. “Oh, god. You’re so good… it’s almost not fair. You take it so well. You make me go feral, y’know that?” He pants while your voice memorizes his ears. He’ll worship it. Your voice is like heaven to his ears. Can’t live one day without it. As he bites his lips from your touch. He tightens his grip around your waist with his legs, shaking.
Hitching under his breaths, face heated up, “M-m-mommy… please… just, uuuhhh.” Barely slurring out his sentence, panting like a dog, sweating bullets, shaking violently from every touch. Emotions swelling and tying knots in his stomach, embarrassed but loves this side. He loves you dominating him. He loves the way you make him weak, the way you ferally devour anything and everything out of him. He can’t live without you. He’s too developed around your façade, touch, demeanor. He desires you like no other, nothing could or can compare to you. You please him through the heavens.
His dependency on you is like life-support. You softly smooch his lips. “I love you. That will never change. You’re too good to leave. I can’t live without you, I need you, I need you. Ooh, you don’t understand.” You worship his grace. His heart jumps out of his chest, panting, just barely holding on the threads of sanity. He adores you so fucking much. “I-I do too, mommy. I understand well, too. I know much more than you anticipated… but… I need you more. I crave for you. You’re my only solution, the reason I can be pleased. You’re perfect.”
His intensity on you gives you chills. Lust swirling in each other’s eyes. Precum sits bedazzling on his dick. His bulging is just enough to soak you up. “Mmmmmh, am I ready? Mommy? Will you please fuck me now? I’m dying here. I need you. Please, please, please.” You chuckle from his constant begging. “Oh, I’m having too much fun to just stop. I’m going to rile you up to the point when I finally relieve you, you’re cumming by the first touch.” You kiss his neck some more, and softly trail some drool to decorate his neck.
“M-ngh…” his hands grip hard on the rails of the bed frame. He wants you so bad, he needs you so badly. He doesn’t know how much longer he can last before going into a fully moaning and begging to be fucked mess. “Pleeaase!! Ju-jus… haaaaah,” groaning from a few soft and light touches. You’re trailing your nail over his tip, teasing him to the point he’ll break. Growing teary from all the teasing, squirming intensely, sweating to the point where you can smell his bodily fluids.
“Baby, do you know how cute you are? Sometimes I wonder if I’m the one who’s really going insane right now. I wish you could be like this all day, every day, but you’re too good for that. You’re way too amazing for anyone else to be able to see you like this. My cherry.” His eyes spells out things his trembling mouth couldn’t admit. He yearns for a kiss. The kiss full of lust and desire from you both. He’s earned it. He’s been such a good boy for you. Oh, how wonderful and sweet he is. Almost hurts.
“Baby, do you want that kiss? I think you’ve been patient enough.” You chuckle, practically touching his lips with yours. Closing the space between you two, he inches closer. You back away a little, “Awh, don’t rush things. It’s not fun when you get whatever you want without any fight. I want to drain your fight, drain the sanity left. I want your mind and brain to only circulate around the arousal of my pleasure. You’re so radiant. I can’t stand not teasing you, you’re so pretty… oh, you’re too enchanting for my brain. You make me go crazy, to touch you like this, to even see you like this, to be the reason you’re like this. Do you realize how much that arousals me?! How much it turns me on? You’re so damn luxurious, it’s too good. Way too good. You can’t leave without atoning for the vile crime you’ve committed. You made me obsessed.”
You caress his hair. Trailing your fingers along his face, his skin tensing after each agonizingly slow embrace of your finger. You slowly feel his lips, deeply staring into his eyes, his low and unsteady breathing fills the air. The silence. It’s too much for you two. You’re wanting to take him whole, but know it’s better to take bites. “You’re my salvation.” After mindlessly whispering it into his ear, you roughly kiss him. Leaving him no time to react, choking on his breathe, eyes widening. “M-mhmhm…” His chest tightens up, arching his back, deeply engraving to your kiss. He can barely keep up with your pace. Your right arm cradled around his neck, intensely looking deeply into your lover’s eyes.
He’s feral at this point. Dripping from arousal, intoxicated by your touch, your voice, how you make his heart race. Tongues intertwined with each other’s drool. Hard panting’s from both of you, on the verge of losing your breath. Both of your mind’s on the tip of losing it all for each other. You softly depart from the kiss. “Let me feel you,” like animal instinct, he sits prettily, mouth open, letting you dig your fingers inside. Circling his tongue with your index finger, softly kissing his mouth with the taste. You toy around with his drool on your fingers, tangling it inside your tongue, you rub his lips with his drool. Swiftly kissing his sweet nectar.
“You taste is so elegantly sweet. I can’t have enough, I need to seep through everything. You’re so possessively sexy. You have me under shackles. I can’t stand to not look at you. You’re too glamorous. Glorious, even. My dear, sweet, Cher’.” You passionately dive through his shoulders, caressing them with your kisses. He softly gasps, you can feel his trembling arms. His mind seeps farther and farther from sanity. Head pricked up, back arched, arching legs, sore arms & hands.
He was on the brink of moaning your name, gushing out his groans, he needed you more than anything. “Y-Y/N… please… I beg of you, just touch me! Fuck me, fuck me until morning. I don’t care anymore. I need it, I need you.” His achingly whiny voice seduces the drums of your heart. His head bobs up from the bliss of pleasure as you lick his scared chest. “Haaah… mommy…” you perk up, enchanted by his pureness. “You’re the best… so pretty.” His shaky head angled down back at your body on top of his. Lustful eyes connect with yours.
You lean into his face. You decided to kiss his forehead, his cheeks, and softly kiss his lips. He was motionless to all of this. Covered by exhaustion, panting, and sweating like he’s been in lava. “I don’t c-care anymore… please… just take me a-already.” You smirk slyly, “in time, darling. You’re being so good. If you can feel how enchanting you are to me. You have me bound by bliss and desire.”
His shaky legs were screaming silently for your touch. He was so ready for you. He desired you, yearned for you, enchanted by you. You brought your right hand down to his thigh, slowly massaging it, inching closer and closer to his dick. “I think you’ve earned some pleasure, wouldn’t you say?” He pants. Teary-eyed, “m-mom— uuuuhhhhhggggg…” you softly brought your hand to his dick. Slowly, and agonizingly caressing it.
“You’ve been such a good boy. You’re so dazzling, tied up, helpless, gorgeously vulnerable. Oh, it just gets me soaking without even trying. You’re too enchanting. Watching you pant like this, effortlessly look so prettily and captivating. It gets more going, cherry.” You dazzle your way up to his head while still deeply staring into his eyes. He squeezes his eyes shut after he feels your sensation on the tip.
Swirling your index finger lightly around his dick, he pants even harder. More drool dropping off the edges of his mouth. Perked up lips forbidding to moan anymore. He was quite embarrassed, even more so than if he would lose a fight. Embarrassed about how all easy this was. Exhaustingly trying to feel everything you’re doing. “M-mommy… haaah, please, please, please, please, please, just fuck me already!! I’m too tired of waiting. I need you. I’m begging. I surrender! What else is there for me to do?”
He dizzily demands. Tired, panting, sweating like an animal, feral enough to moan out in pleasure just from mere sight. The sight of your lover being this needy and eager to have you fuck him was so captivating. Like a moth luring into an open flame. Yet, for the moment all you do is smirk and softly dangle your fingers around his precum. Making him softly mewl in response. His eyes hazily peering onto your figure. He has his legs laying down, making it easier for you to play with him. He opens up his neck some more causing you to lick your lower lip narrowing your stare.
You kiss his chest leading it up to his beautiful and bare neck. You run your nuzzled nose around his neck’s edge. Caressing his beauty with your nose, absorbing his undeniable scented body. You kiss his cheeks and run your free hand through his hair. Feeling his lips, he softly gapes his mouth open for your entry. “For a second there, I thought you were going for my neck. Heh, way to fool me.” You chuckle as you softly kiss his lips. Yet, he’s left breathless, fully aware of the effects you have on him.
It will never matter how prepared he’ll be. You’ll always captivate him and leave him huffing for more. Earning an extra satisfaction out of you. You knew that he practically needed you at this point, but always was so embarrassed for it. It always aroused you. His effortless way to captivate you had you outmatched from the very beginning. What can you do without him? Absolutely nothing. At least, it’s what you convince yourself. You’re in such awe with his beauty you can’t even imagine a life without him in it.
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I’ll make build-up after I finish the fic, and post that alongside pinning the posts all together.
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janeyseymour · 2 days
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La Cosa Nostra- pt 11
cowritten with @schemmentis
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10.
Summary: Melissa's pissed with recent news, the Feds are back at it, and you go to a place and person to find some comfort.
WC: ~2.05k
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At this news, Melissa quickly slips into the seat on the other side of Dom's table. “Are ya crazy? I told you they've already torn this place to shreds, and you want to bring the money in through here?” She hisses as she leans more into the middle of the table. “Listen, losin’ the salon is already bad enough. You know what it did to Y/N when you took her off it.”
“That didn't come from me, Mel. I just had to deliver the message. You know that.”
“I don't care who it came from. You knew, and you did it just the same. Now you have the coglioni to sit here and say we should run it through here. I already ain't gonna forget the slightin’ of my wife, youse know that- the lot of you. You wanna tell me I gotta run this shit through my restaurant? Then tell me. Don't act like this is some proposition, Dominic. Tell me what to do, and I'll handle it. ‘Cause you and I both know how this shit works, but I am tellin’ you,” Melissa points an index finger at the man across from her sternly. “Right here, right now, I am tellin’ you; this fucks up my restaurant and youse all are gonna have a much bigger problem than the fuckin’ Feds, capisce?”
Dominic's face remains neutral, though there is an amused glint to his eyes as his palm shifts along the head of his cane. He nods quickly and respectfully to Melissa. “We want things to go well even more than you do, kid.” He says softly.
Melissa leans back in chair, arms crossing over her chest. She raises an eyebrow, silently urging him to say what he needs to say. 
“We'll work out the details on our end. You only have to make sure you're here when the money comes through. Simple as that.” Dom says. He sighs when Melissa still merely stares at him expectantly. “Sí, sí. We're telling you this is how it's gonna work from now on. Clear out a spot in the office in the back. Nobody else needs to know it's anythin’ different than a regular shipment comin’ once in a while. None of it happens if you ain't here. This is big, Lissa. They're trustin’ you.”
“Like they trusted my wife?” Melissa spits out as she pushes herself out of the chair. “Texts only. They call and wake up my girls while they’re sleepin’, I'll take one of my bats to their kneecaps.” She adds on her way past Dom in his seat to storm back toward the kitchen.
You raise a brow as you watch your wife storm into the back and Dominic starts to slowly make his way out. You grab one of the other servers milling about, silently asking them to keep an eye on your girls while you go check on the redhead.
When you get into the back, she’s slamming her fist into the linoleum counter where they prep the food. Her hand is already bruising, and you take her fist gently into your own.
“My love,” you whisper as you hold her hand in yours.
“Let me go,” she hisses.
You shake your head, refuting her request. “You’re hurting yourself. You know I can’t let you do that.”
“I don’t give a shit,” she grumbles as she starts to curl her other hand into a fist. You grab the other one before she can even think about causing damage to that hand.
“Melissa.”
“They’re usin’ the restaurant as their new front,” your wife tells you quietly. “Said that it’s what we have to do, and they trust me… that we’re in the clear because the feds saw how busy we are and that we bring the girls around here, so it has to be safe.”
“I’m not letting you do this,” you tell her. “And I’m not letting them put the girls in danger.”
“We don’t got an option, Y/N. I told Dom I would handle it,” Melissa sighs as she leans against you. “And I will. You just… take care of the girls. No matter what happens.”
“Melissa, don’t talk like that- like you’re gonna die.”
“I’m just being realistic. You did the same when they were using the salon,” your wife says softly. “We both knew that if something happened, I’d have to keep the girls safe. But now, it’s on me, and I know that you’d do the same if something were to happen. We don’t have a choice.”
“Fuck,” you whisper again. “Shit.”
“Get… get the girls out of here, and tell them that I’ll be home late tonight,” your wife runs a hand over her face. “I have to make it work here.”
“No,” you say softly. “I’ll… I’ll get someone to come pick them up so I can help you.”
“Y/N,” Melissa grits out. “Go. I can handle this.”
You give her a look, one that tells her she doesn’t have to do this- that you’ll handle it. You don’t want to have her be the one in danger.
But she just shakes her head and insists you get the girls out of here- just in case Dom did give the two of you up, and he’s setting you up for failure. The girls cannot watch their mother(s) go down.
You cradle her face in your hands, kissing her a few times. “No more punchin’ things, hey? Can't have you bustin’ up those pretty fingers more than you already do.” You whisper. “I'll take care of the girls. You do what you gotta do.” When she nods, just a little, you kiss her one more time before finally turning away.
You gather your girls with a thank you to the server watching them for you. 
“Mam! We have to wait for Mommy!” Cat is insisting as you walk with both your girls out the front door.
“Auntie Val needs Mommy's help tonight, sweetheart. So, we're gonna go home and make sure everything is cleaned up and nice for her, okay?” You speak to your girls though you're glancing around the parking lot on the way to your car.
You take note of Dom's car pulling out but don't see any cars with sirens or lights careening into the lot afterward. You carefully buckle your girls into the backseat. When you're shutting the back door after making sure they're both safe, you look around again on the walk around to the drivers side. There's nothing different or out of the ordinary. No sign of agents or officers. Which means Dom has only done exactly as he said he did.
You slip into the driver's seat, throwing your seatbelt on. You swallow as you carefully pull out of the spot and towards home. Dom telling the truth is maybe worse than if he had flipped. They're really putting this on Melissa and Twelve Tables. Part of you despises it. The amount of risk it puts on your wife. You know it intimately. The other part, the part that grew up in all this and doesn't know anything else, that part is proud as hell. It isn't anything to turn your nose up at to be entrusted with the process of mafia money. It speaks volumes. Volumes that equally excite and terrify you.
Danik and Shaw are back at the precinct, contemplating everything that Dominic told them- that you and your wife had nothing to do with the murder of Bobby. He told them that even if you did have something against the man, you could never do anything- you rescue wasps because you don’t have the heart to kill them despite the fact that your wife is always screaming at you to kill the damned demons. They go over the fact that you bring your twins into your restaurant, you take the girls to church with you, you always are on time to get the girls to and from school. If you were a part of the mafia and mob that dealt with things pertaining to ordering hits and murder, you wouldn’t be such dutiful mothers.
But they also know that you never brought the girls into the salon- they’ve only ever seen the two girls with you at the restaurant. And that is a bit suspicious in their eyes. So, they plan to head back to the salon the following day.
When they get there, you aren’t there- which is unusual. You’re almost always there, and they know that. Instead, Tony is out on the floor with the other stylists. But you are nowhere to be seen; your car isn’t even in the lot. And it isn’t in the lot because you’re somewhere else.
You’re sitting in the sanctuary of your church. After dropping the girls off at school and leaving your wife to her restaurant turned mafia front, you go to the one place where you can find some sort of solitude- because even now your home reminds you of everything happening in your world.
There’s no service today, so you find yourself sitting in the back pew by yourself, looking up at the ceiling. You’re speaking silently to whatever God is out there to please spare your family from all of the heartache that you can only imagine is in your inevitable future. Finally, you bow your head, and you begin to weep silently. 
You’re shaken out of your thoughts when you feel someone slide into the pew next to you and wrap an arm around your shoulder. Your eyes pop open in surprise, and when you look next to you, Barbara is sitting there.
She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t ask why you’re here and not at the salon or at the restaurant. She doesn’t mention that she knows what the two of you do outside of your legal businesses. No- she sits in complete and utter silence as she holds you gently. And you can’t do anything about it. You can’t explain why you’re here in a puddle of your own tears, not without giving away what she already knows to be true. So you don’t say anything. You just continue to cry out your fears and worries over everything while clinging to the shawl that Barbara has draped over her shoulders. And when you pull away, you let out an ugly, choked out laugh.
“You probably think I’m crazy.”
“Crazy? For coming to the one safe little corner of the earth where you can feel anything and do anything and not be judged for it?” the woman asks you. She shakes her head silently. She takes your hand in her own, and together the two of you pray. You don’t realize that she is praying for the same thing that you are, but she is. The two of you silently pray that you’ll somehow get yourself out of this mess- that your family will be able to return to some sort of normalcy- or better yet turn a new leaf and start a new life where there is no mafia or mob, no illegal businesses that put everyone in harm’s way.
And when you lift your head, hers is still bowed for a few seconds before she lifts it with a quiet, “Thank you, God.” And then, as if nothing happened, she pats your hands gently with her own and goes on her way. 
You take a few deep breaths once Barb is gone. Carefully trying to get yourself together. You wipe at your cheeks and eyes, focusing on the distant altar at the pulpit. You sit in the last pew, breathing deep and slow. Staring at the large depiction of Jesus on the cross behind the altar. Slowly, you feel the serenity you were hoping to. You don't know that praying will do anything, actually change anything, but it's at least felt like getting it off your chest. In a way that doesn't jeopardize your family or anyone else. You suddenly understand Barbara's devout faith. You can't say that will ever be you but you get it. You make the sign of the cross over your head and chest as you finally rise from the pew and slowly make your way out of the quiet church.
TAGS (and let me know if you want to be added!): @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld
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urfavlarry · 3 days
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REQUESTS ARE OPEN AGAIN LETS GOO!
I just have this crazy idea which is kinda cringy but can you do a soulmate au with tyler where the last thing your soulmate says to you is written on your wrist, but it changes when they are in the phantom realm and then tyler dies, or something like that
i know it sounds stupid but thanks if you decide to do it ヾ(^-^)ノ
Meant to be part I.
Tyler Hernández x reader
warnings: swearing, bad grammar
genre: fluff
A/N: soo about the thing your soulmate says to you is on your wrist.. I made it so it’s the sentance your soulmate WILL say to you.. like the thing that is written on your wrist will happen in the future yk ?? like you have it ever since you were born and it dissapears when you meet your soulmate and they say the sentance to you! hope thats not confusing lmao
A/N 2.0: FUCKING HELL I JUST REALISED I MESSED THE WHOLE REQUEST UP OMG GIRLLL.. nah I’m so sorry but in the part two ill make it that in the phantom dimension its the opposite of the real world, you have your soulmates last words on your wrist so bare with me here okay
。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆⋆ 。
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╰┈➤ ⋆。‧˚ʚ 🥀 ɞ˚‧。⋆
“She’s probably the one that played that stupid prank on us.”
That was the sentance written on your wrist for about 16 years. You have no idea what it means since you weren’t the type to prank people since you thought those kinds of things were stupid and childish. You walk through the streets of Savannah, staring down at your phone. You were in Savannah for a school trip, another school coming along with you for 2 days. While you were lost in thought you feel someone crashing into you and groan, putting a hand on your head since they kind of hit you in the head pretty bad. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!” A girl with short black hair and tattoos sats to you, quickly getting up and looks you up and down; “Maybe as a sorry I could give you a tour of the Sorrel Weed house?” She says and eagerly waits for your answer; “A group cancelled on me so I have some free tickets left?” You look down at your phone, seeing that you still have about an hour left before having to go back to meet up with your class. “I um, sure? I have time.” She smiles and hands you one ticket and drags you to what looks like a very, very old house. She tells you to look around for a bit and that she will be back with some more people in a few minutes and not touch anything.
A few minutes pass and she comes back with a group you noticed when you were walking to your room at the motel. You notice a boy with dark red hair and a girl, who is most likely his twin look at you. The girl smiled at you so you did so as well to not seem rude, but the boy just.. glared?? You shrugged it off and admired the old architecture of the house. It was a cozy but creepy looking house, it had some hidden details you wondered about. You liked imagining about what kind of memories the people that lived here had. Maybe they were a noble family that were secretely some sort of criminals? Or maybe it was a big family that struggled to keep themselves on their feet? You follow the others as the black haired girl, whos name you couldn’t remember lead you into an eerie looking room. You get chills down your spine and put on your hoodie, a really evident drop in temperature being in the room.
A phone ringing echoed through the room, the black haired girl excusing herself and left the room in a hurry. You eye the group who were whispering something to each other, the boy from earlier still eyeing you as you were some sort of pray. You hear the ginger girl talk about some sort of sensitivity to sound, the blonde boy and the grumpy one were fascinated by it. You walk past them and turn towards them, eyeing them from behind. You notice a strange figure behind the ginger girl, getting creeped out you gasp, alerting the others as well. “Ashlyn.. Behind you.” A boy with glasses says and you shiver, your whole body tensing up.
The girl flinched and falls to the ground, the mysterious figure disappearing in a heart beat. “What was that thing?” “A ghost maybe?” The blonde boy says as if this whole encounter was the most hilarious thing ever. The brunette boy scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah as if, ghosts aren’t real.” He looks towards you and his brows furrow. He steps closer to you and pushes you towards the group. You stumble back, tripping on your feet but catch yourself before you could fall on your ass. “Rude much..” You mumble but immediately shut up when you see his pissed face.
“She’s probably the one that played that stupid prank on us.”
Your face goes pale, a tingly feeling welling up in your arm. He was your soulmate. You don’t say anything and just push past them. leaving the creepy house and hurry back to meet with your class. You were quiet the whole time at your hotel room, your roommates doing their own thing as you just layed there on your bed. It was about 11:43pm and you couldn’t get that boy off your mind. The other school, which they were from was just on the floor below yours. You wonder what your first words to him will be. You decide to go and speak to the ginger haired girl, thinking that she looked pretty nice you went downstairs and went to what you think was their room, at least that’s where you saw them enter. You knock on the door and pray for them to not be asleep when you hear the door open, and there she was. “Hey um, I was the one that was at that weird house with you guys.. I was wondering if we could um.. be friends?” You ask and mentally face palm at your shyness. She looks you up and down and yells some girls name. The girl, AKA the grumpy boys twin appears behind her and speaks up; “Hey! I remember you! You were with us at that house. Come in!” She says with a smile and you nod, walking in. “We were about to go to sleep but we could have a sleepover.” She says and you nod, introducing yourself; “Oh and by the way, I’m Y/N.” You say and they introduce themselves as Taylor and Ashlyn. You sit down on the floor and when you go and speak, your whole world goes black.
。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆⋆ 。
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╰┈➤ ⋆。‧˚ʚ 🥀 ɞ˚‧。⋆
A/N: haha bet you didn’t expect a cliffhanger !! I’ll make a part two soon so dw and make sure to take care of yourself guys~ :D
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imyourbratzdoll · 1 day
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I crave a good fluffy fic with wolverine, his wife is a badass and when someone threatens him she loses her shit and kicks their ass🫡 with so much disrespect.
hey baby, I'm so sorry for taking so long! I hope you enjoy what I did, it's a bit more violent than you probably wanted.
summary - a dumb 'bad guy' lures you and your husband out, things take an escalated turn when he threatens your husband.
warning - SUPER violent, like extreme level probably, swearing, mentions of sex, dude talks of touching what's his but nothing triggering, dick and balls suffer rip.
18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips
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You couldn’t believe this guy, he was really threatening your husband right in front of you. Thinking he was all tough because he could throw fire or some shit? You didn’t know what he could do, except talk a lot of shit. That was probably his power. What was his name again? Captain Talks Shit? Shits A lot? Little Fucker? Who cares, all you care about right now is that he’s threatening your man. 
You walk out of the shadows, having heard enough because honestly. Why do the bad guys always talk for so long? Have none of them realised or picked up from past bad guys mistakes? It was tiring and a waste of your time because you and Logan could’ve been gone by now, screwing each other silly, probably somewhere extremely risky. But, noooo. You had to listen to this jackass.
“Listen, dick licker. If you don’t stop threatening my fucking husband. I’m going to rip your arm off and beat you with it.” You growl, moving to stand in front of Logan. (Sure, he would have protected himself and it may look weak to the other guy that a woman is standing in front of an extremely large man, in more ways than one, wink wink. But you happen to know that this turns your husband on and who are you to deny him his fantasies?)
“Is that a threat?” Captain Dipshit sneers.
“Did it sound like a fucking compliment, Princess?” You watch as he eyes you, sizing you up and in his mind he’s probably thinking ‘yeah, I can take this chick.’ You hope his ego deflates before you kill him.
“Listen, Babe. This is between us men, now why don’t you run along and go make us a sandwich or something. Maybe put on some cute lingerie and wait for me in the bedroom ‘cause once I’m done with your husband here. You’ll be creamin’ around me.”
Logan shakes his head, stepping way back. He remembered when he accidentally said something similar and he was in a coma for a whole month, not even his fast healing could help him. 
It was like a switch turning on, the beast that lived within you had been released from its cage and not even God could save this man now. You stalked towards him, he still smirked thinking he was safe. You jump, wrapping your legs around his neck and twisting, bringing him down using a move your good friend Natasha had taught you. You move swiftly while he is down, sending a harsh kick to his face, hearing the satisfying crack of his nose and possibly jaw breaking. You grab him by his hair and lift him, a large grin covering your face as you bring him eye level with you. 
“You wanna repeat that, Princess?” You bring him closer, whispering in his ear. “How bout you go make me a sandwich, put on a cute set and I’ll bash your dick in with a baseball bat. How do ya like the sound of that? Cause I love it.” 
He struggles within your grip, trying to swing at you but with your other hand that isn’t gripping his hair. You snap his arms, relishing in the sound of bones breaking. His screams echo the warehouse, dumbarse had lured us in here without a backup plan or backup. 
You let go of your grip on his hair, immediately switching to gripping his throat instead. “You don’t like my plan, Princess? Rethinking the whole thing? Cause ya already pissed me off by threatening the man I love, but then you had the balls to say THAT? Tell me, Princess. Just between us girls. Did mummy not give you any hugs as a kid? Cause how did you think this was gonna go? You could’ve ‘killed’ the Wolverine, but he wouldn’t have stayed dead. No. But if he heard you touching me, touching what’s HIS. He would’ve torn you to shreds, but slowly. Very slowly. It’s what makes me love him.” You pat the man’s cheek, grinning as he winces. 
“How bout an apology and I won’t kill you.”
“F–fuck you.” He spits at you, SPITS. Not even clear fucking spit, this shit has blood in it. You lift your hand, wiping the spit with the back of it and then onto his clothes. 
Your face screwed up. “Well, that was stupid.” With quick movements, you throw him, watching him crash into a wall so hard that it leaves a dent. Your hand reaches out and a bat flies into it. “You’re not wearing that cute set and I don’t have a sandwich, but this will do.” He tries to shuffle away, his eyes wide. You stalk toward him and swing, smashing his dick and balls with one hit. Think Superman merged with Hulk strength, how do you think his twig and berries did?
A scream rips out of his mouth before his eyes roll back and he falls backwards. You frown and poke him with your bat. “Hey mista, you dead?” You look at Logan, “Bitch passed out.” He shakes his head at the pout on your lips. 
He walks over and places a kiss on your head, “C’mon, let’s go home now or better yet. You ready to do something real risky, Sweets.” Your eyes light up.
“Do you mean…?!”
Logan nods, smirking. “I’ll finally let you fuck me while I drive.” Your squeals escape as you jump into his arms, smothering his face with kisses.
“OH THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! You’re the best husband a woman could ask for!” And with that, Logan carries you out as you stare at him dreamily.
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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loveandplanet · 3 days
Text
Miss Americana
Now playing: You’re On Your Own, Kid
C/W: Mentions of abuse, violence, ellusions to rape, Marshal is a perv, misogyny/sexism, angst, Goose has no idea how to Scottish slang. As always, italics in “” depict Norwegian.
A/N: Things are getting juicy! I’m really falling in love with Evelyne’s story now, and I’m the one writing it lmao. Constructive criticism is always welcomed in a positive way. I’m sensitive.
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It’s dark; the house is quiet. Evelyne squints into the darkness. Her clock says it’s 3am. It’s only been a few hours since her fight with her father. She rolls out of her bed and makes her way down the hall. Andrews door is shut, when she tries the handle, it’s locked. “Lorris?” She calls out to him, hopefully the nickname will make him open the door.
To her luck, he does. The door practically rips off its hinges from his anger. Andrew glares at her, the same look, she realizes, that he gives their dad.
“The fuck you want, Evelyne?”
“Are…are you okay? I know Marshall was pretty harsh this time.” Her cheek still stings from the slap she received, and she can only imagine how her brother feels. He huffs, rolling his eyes at her.
“You’ve taken it too far with this Scottish boy, Evelyne. I’m not covering for you anymore.” “But you said-”
“Doesn’t matter! This is your problem, not mine!”
He turns to go back into his room, leaving Evelyne there in shock. Andrew stops and looks at her one last time.
“Oh, and another thing, Marshall knows there isn’t a ‘Malic Greene’ in your class.” Then the door slams in her face, making her flinch.
“You’re on your own, kid. You always have been.”
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“Lass?”
Evelyne blinks at him, her curls matted to her face from the rain. She barely remembers how she got here. She’s still in her pajamas; an old nirvana shirt and cotton sleep shorts. She didn’t even put on shoes in her desperation to get to him. Falling into his arms, she sobs out a single word. “Johnny,”
He pulls her into the house. She’s never done this; shown up at his Aunts house at the crack-ass of dawn. John bombards her with questions. What happened? Are you okay, lass? Evelyne doesn’t respond to any, only sobs. God, she feels so stupid. The more she gets Johnny involved with her, the more she puts him at risk of Marshal’s wrath. The roses were bad enough. It’s not until John pulls her away from his shoulder, tucking stray curls behind her ears with a gentleness she’s never felt, that Evelyne realizes what she has to do. She stares into the sea of blue that is her boys’ eyes. “I can’t keep doing this, Johnny.”
“Doing wha’?”
She shakes her head. Please, she begs, don’t make me say this. Evelyne thinks that God may just be on her side when Johnny’s eyes widen. The pair stare at each other for a beat in silence. And then-
“Come with me.” “What?”
“To Scotland. Come back home with me, to Scotland.”
“John you know I can’t do that! What- what about Nellie and Claire? I can’t just leave them alone. With him!”
“So yer just gonna let him beat ya to death?”
“To protect them? Yes!”
Johnny purses his lips, thinking. “Just, just try, for me lass. I leave tomorrow night; come with me,” He grabs her hands, bringing them up to his chest. “Please.”
Holy hell. When did he have the time to pick up Norwegian? Evelyne sighs, looking up at him.
“Okay,”
His face lights up.
“Really?”
“Really,”
Johnny’s kisses were always passionate, as was everything the boy did, but Evelyne felt like she was on fire when their lips met. Her hands went to his poorly done buzz cut as his went to her waist. If this is what she was giving London up for, it was worth it. “I’ll run away,”
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London airport is bustling, people rushing to their terminal, to their loved ones, or to a taxi. Evelyne clutches her carry on bag to her chest as walks in the building. Johnny was in Gate C9, where he and his family were waiting for her. She feels nauseous; she’s really doing this. Leaving her family, her childhood, her sisters, behind. She ignores the constant buzzing of her phone in favor of rushing through the airport.
“From sprinklers splashes to fireplace ashes,”
Evelyne confirms for the fifth time that she is, in fact, at Gate C9. The problem? Johnny’s not here. There’s no terrible haircut, no loud Scottish slang. Evelyne’s vision blurs as tears form in her eyes; again.
“I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for this.”
Three hours later, the plane is long gone, and it’s dark outside. Evelyne gathers her bags and makes her way outside. So much for coming home.
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“Where that fuck have you been, girl?!”
“I went for a walk,”
Evelyne makes it two steps before her curls are roughly grabbed. She yelps before falling back. “You don’t do shit without my permission, you hear?!”
She looks at her father. His dark skin has a slight yellow tint to it. His liver must be failing. She can practically taste the shitty beer he drinks. “Yes, sir.”
Marshal looks shocked for a half a second before he smiles and his eyes roam. Evelyne wants to puke. “Good girl. It’s about time you learned.”
He releases his grip on her hair, allowing her to cower away. Evelyne lugs her bags up the stairs and into her room.
“You’re on your own kid,”
The panic starts before she can stop it.
“Yeah you can face this,”
Evelyne rips her stained sheets off her bed, shoving them into her closet.
“You’re on your own kid,”
“You always have been.”
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@going-to-ikea-for-the-fries 👀👀
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