#just the idea that he's going to go through that makes my heart stop.

[satorena]

❛ UNPROFESSIONALISM ! ❜

⟡ content warnings. explicit content. foul language. ceo!satoru. secretary!reader. mentioned past flings. fondlīng. fīngerīng. afab!reader. p in v. unprotected. brēēding. squīrtīng. gojo satoru is his own damn warning. 4.9k.

⟡ serena's note. oh if y’all knew the lengths i went thru just to post this damn fic. . .

“ugh, this is such a painnn!”

“the sooner you finish your paperwork, the sooner you’re off, sir.” you sigh, arms crossed over your chest. you’re used to your boss’ childish antics by now, having worked side by side with him for nearly a year. you check the time on your watch, “work ended about half an hour ago— you might want to hurry up.”

“but y/n!” he drags out your name, voice all whiny and pitched in a telltale manner. he pushes himself off away from his desk, chair rolling back from the impact as he lolls his head back. “this shit is sooo lame. didn’t i hire nanamin to take care of the boring stuff? how come he isn’t here handling this god forsaken load of terrorizing agony?!”

you click your tongue, clutching tighter at the clipboard in your hold. you wonder if he’d been dropped on the head as a child, his lack of self-awareness so painful it makes you reconsider if the check at the end of the week is ever worth it. “he’s scheduled the week off to keep his wife and newborn in check. he signed off about a month ago.”

he snaps his head up so quickly, you’re positive he’s gotten whiplash. gojo blinks at you through big blue eyes and snowy lashes, a dumbfounded look on his face. he lifts his index to scratch at the corner of his lips, and cocks his head to the side, “ahh. . . ‘s that right? wait— nanamin’s a dad?!”

you feel the vein in your head inevitably tick.

“sir,” you let out an exhausted sigh, completely baffled by his ineptitude. he must purposely choose to do this to you, there’s simply no other explanation. “we attended his wife’s baby shower a few months ago—the one you mistook for a bachelor party and had me escorting the escorts back home.” you lift your pointer finger, brows cinched as the memory burns into your mind. he tilts his head to the side, affirming the idea of his cluelessness even more.

you raised a second finger, “we showed up to the hospital to congratulate them on their baby— and you got them that ridiculous cutout board of yourself that sings when you press on the—”

“the button on my dick, yeah!” gojo cackles as if it’s the funniest story ever, as if you hadn’t need to dump a bucket of water on the cutout figure to get it to shut up before he could get his company sued for emotional distress.

you huff, the stressful reminder of that unfortunate day having you anxiously tugging at the hem of your skirt, “yep. that’s the one.” between the baby’s obnoxious cries and exaggerated mecha-gojo moans, you’d rather not think about that encounter.

“and this whole time i figured she was his sister,” gojo snorts, wiping a faux tear from the corner of his eye. he sighs when his laughter dies down, and pulls him chair back into his desk. “man, his wife’s a babe. guess that explains why she looked at me all crazy when i called her fine the other day.”

“you sure that’s the only reason?” you mutter under your breath, the insult flowing off your tongue so naturally that you couldn’t help stopping it, even if you wanted to. that man was all kinds of deranged, his ego and head much bigger than it needed to be.

“ouch, that’s mean, doll.” gojo pouts, clutching at the material of his blazer above his heart. the back of his free hand lands on his forehead as he dramatically leans back into his seat. his eyelids shut tightly, “you’re wounding me. ‘m too young to die. i can’t go on like this— tell my mother i loved her. sign off my will for me, wouldya? make sure to terrorize nanamin some more. oh, and empty out all my search histories. wouldn’t wanna ruin my reputation. and get rid of my porn magazines beneath my bed. ‘ve got some pretty nasty stuff there. and check up on my kid every now and then. and—”

“alright, alright. i apologize.” you cut his rambling off before it spiralled into something far worse. there’s a full headache throbbing at your temple, your feet ache from your heels, and your stomach rumbles in hunger. you’re ready to go home now, but that won’t be possible unless your big man baby of a boss finishes up his task. “i’m sure you’ve a very suitable man. many would be grateful to have you. my apologies, sir.”

he peeks through an eye, a smug smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. his beaten-puppy look is quickly replaced by one you know far too well now— the look he gets after beating his rival company in terms of stock. the look he gets after successfully shitting on his higher ups. the look he gets after getting you to cum on his fingers after a long day— you’ve stroked his ego. “i’ve trained you well, princess. always flattering me, ohh, however did i get so lucky?”

whatever have you done to get so unlucky? “time’s ticking, sir. you can’t afford to pick up megumi late from practice again.”

“nanamin’s wife might be a babe, but you’re a gem, y’know?” your boss entirely ignores you, leaning his elbow onto the pile of work he’s now completely erased from his existence. he leans his cheek into his palm, fingertips tapping at the side of his head. “one helluva girl. i mean it— i really lucked out with ya.”

you cross your leg over the other, shifting your hips over the suede material of his couch. you recognize the sultry undertone to his voice, and your clear your throat, “is that so?”

gojo chuckles, flashing you all thirty two teeth, “i mean it’s not everyday you find a woman with your patience. god, you must be in love with me or something.”

you roll your eyes, despite the small smile that creeps up on your lips, “that’s certainly not why i stayed,” which wasn’t entirely true, but it’s not as if you haven’t inflated his ego enough today. “you may be a handful but your pockets sure are generous.”

“wouldn’t kill you to make a guy feel good about himself from time to time, ya know?” he fiddled the black pen between his fingers, twirling the object from knuckle to knuckle. he pauses when you don’t answer, noticing you noticing his finger movements. and so he proceeds with a smirk, “you’re always so tense all the time. . . tell me, when’s the last time you’ve been properly fucked?”

you nearly lose the grip on your clipboard at his audacity, the question throwing you off guard. though, you quickly keep composure— a fierce facade that’s always labelled you as the calm and collected kind. though, you’re doubtful it worked against your own boss.

“that’s an unprofessional question, sir.” you grit through teeth, nails scratching at the wooden back of your board. highly hypocritical of yourself, as you’re absolutely no better than he is— having already opened a window of no return that fateful night you accepted his invite to come inside his home.

“pretty sure we’re past unprofessionalism.” he pushes himself off of his desk, rising to his feet. your eyes trail his movements, from the index finger that hooks at his tie to loosen the knot, to the cock of his head to the side that has his hair bouncing, to the sound of expensive shoes clicking with every stride closer to you.

his presence can be oddly intimidating at times— you’ve noticed while working with him for a while. there’re moments like whenever he steps up on a podium in front of thousands of people, or when the elevator doors slide open and presents him to the building. despite his childish antics, he exudes an aura so enchanting that serves as reminder of that at the end of the day, he’s the boss.

you swallow, eyes following his lean figure until he stops right before you. it’s hard to read him in moments like these, when he’s so unlike himself (or maybe finally truly himself). his hands sit in the pockets of his slacks, legs parted enough to entrap your own legs between his, as he tilts his head forward. his irises darken behind tinted shades, bangs curtaining the raise of an eyebrow.

“unprofessional?” he repeats, and your eyes narrow at him, subconsciously gripping at your board tighter. it’s the only thing that you seem to have control over, since it clearly wouldn’t be this conversation. “you mean like that time i had you creamin’ all over my fingers in the back of my car? or unprofessional like that time you bent over my desk and came all over my face? or was it that night when i had to tie your hands together to keep you from runnin’ away?”

your gaze flickers away from his, the heat of embarrassment creeping from your neck all the way to your face. he wasn’t wrong— your relationship with him had passed morally ethical the moment you pulled him in closer to kiss you instead of pushing him away.

“we’re still at work.” you quip, the last bit of resolve tattering away the longer you feel his eyes on you. your roll your ankle nervously, thighs tightening against another.

“work ended half an hour ago sweetheart, remember?” he reminds you, voice as taunting as ever, and you sure as hell don’t need to see him to know he’s smirking. right side of his lips pulled with a moon crescent dimple on the side— he’s making fun of you. “forgettin’ already? can’t have my adorable secretary so overwhelmed that it’s meltin’ her brain. that should be my dick’s doing only, of course.”

you click your tongue, eyes casting back up to stare him dead in the eye. naturally, he’s already meeting your own, with the same damn smirk you’d predicted, “you have paperwork to finish, sir. better get on that quickly.”

“oh?” he laughs at your command, pulling his hands out of his pockets to rest at his hips. he runs his tongue against the top row of his teeth, and you hate the way your mind instantly travels back to days prior when you’d once had that same tongue working in and out of you.

he hums in faux thought, tapping his index against his chin. his lips fall into a pout before instantly stretching back to its default state, his infamous smile, “i suppose you’re right. come help me finish then, hmm? teamwork makes the dream work.”

you’re skeptical— you know him too well, but you’d rather divert the focus of attention from you to those papers. anything to prevent your mind from wandering off further into endless unprofessional possibilities. “lead the way, boss.”

he curtsies dramatically as you rise to your feet, stomping over to his desk. you notice he’s got shit done, and you’ll most likely be here for a minute. and so, you stand next to the chair he’d abandoned and pick up the pen, waiting for him to sit so you both could get started.

only you should’ve known you’d fallen right into his trap the minute you agreed to his ridiculous offer. you feel him pressed up behind you, lurking over your shoulder to study whatever you had going on. he’s unreasonably tall, frame so large it has you feeling frail in his presence, and his cologne so strong you feel it already clouding your judgement.

damn it all.

clicking your tongue, you tilt your head to the side to narrow your eyes, “well? are you not going to sit?”

gojo blinks at you, “how come? i enjoy the view here much better anyway.”

you roll your eyes, before turning back to his desk. he was a complete idiot if he thought you hadn’t already anticipated his next moves. the more your wrist flexes, mumbling the words you read on your sheets as you write them down, the more you felt him. you could feel the back of your thighs meeting the from of his, you could feel his bulge rubbing at your ass, you could feel his warm breath fanning at the slope of your neck.

damn it all.

“sales have risen to a—ahhn!” your pen falters in your grip, scribbling on the white sheet as it hits the desk. your eyelids shut close, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip as a warm mouth kisses at that sensitive spot behind your ear. your palm lays flat against the surface of the table, side by side with gojo’s, body tensing as his mouth trails down lower.

“oh you bastard,” you mutter, shaky hand attempting to grab the pen in an unsteady hold. his chuckle rumbles deep from his chest, and you feel the vibrations against your back. you’re determined to stand your ground, despite the urge to push your hips back into him. he may have soft lips and an annoyingly hot voice, but you would not falter— no matter the moisture of his breath sending shivers down your spine.

you think you have it set in stone, the pen in your hold— albeit unsteady— despite his large hand creeping up your thigh. every trail of his touch leaves an electrifying feeling, and you’re sure he’s noticed your trembling knees if the way he subtly slid his leg in between yours to keep you steady said anything.

it’s when you’re ready to scribble out your mistake to replace it that he decides to plunge his canines to your jugular. the moan that erupts from you is squeaky, your hand clutching tightly at the pen as your back arches into his chest from the painful pleasure.

gojo nibbles and sucks at your skin, running his tongue over the throbbing area to soothe the pain, fingers trailing closer to your now aching core. you’re positive your skirt has now hiked up with how much your hips are pushing back into his, head lolled forward.

“aweee, what’s the matter sweetheart? ‘s too much for you already?” gojo coos, sultry voice sending chills from the shell of your ear down to your core, finally slipping his hand inside of your skirt. his fingertips brush at your clothed clit, the material of your thong shamefully damp in arousal. you huff, nails scratching at his desktop when his index and middle finger rub painfully slow circles at your clit. “but we’ve barely done anything? tsk, can’t afford slowing the company down because you’re too distracted to focus.”

your thighs and arms threaten to give out, body heating with lust and desire. you want to say you hate this, that this is against your typical work ethics, to tell him to fuck off and do the work himself. but the focus on your pussy really has you melting puddle, bottom lip tugged on to suppress any louder sounds to escape.

“y-you’re the worst.” you complain, though it fades into another moan when he pushes his thigh up in between your legs. you’re internally thankful, because had this gone any further, you’re certain you would’ve sunken to the floor.

“love you too, pretty girl.” he presses a kiss at your jaw, fingers pushing past your panties. fuck any resolve you’d held onto— you chuck the pen far away, planting both palms down as you allowed him to take control. every rub of his fingers at your clit had you dripping down his thigh, to where your hips shifted and rolled down his leg, dragging out that blissful heat in your gut.

“givin’ up already? y’didn’t put much of a fight this time, can’t say i’m a disappointed.” his free hand grips at your thigh and trails up to your hips, resting at your flesh to guide you down his leg. he’s all too enthralled by your sensitivity, gaze zeroed in on your expressions— from the slackness at your jaw to the way your brows furrow.

“just h-hurry up already,” you grit, eyelashes fluttering as your eyelids lift. your gaze meets his instantly, and gulp at the hungry look in his eyes. his skin is already flushed pink, lips parted as he pants heavily. “you’re no—ngh, better than i am, dickhead.”

“well aren’t ya damn mouthy,” gojo acknowledged, though clearly unbothered, as his fingers pinch at that bundle of nerve. you gasp, cunt clenching as it leaks more of your essence down on him. your head drops back against his shoulder, the slope of your back curving as you grip onto the closest thing in your vicinity— the hem of his blazer. “hm, whatever happened to my obedient secretary? always so polite and respectful, don’t tell me i haven’t trained you enough?”

“m-maybe you haven’t,” you pant, chest heaving as you feel his fingertips teasing the entrance of your folds. they’re slow movements, applying just enough pressure to ignite the spark in your guts but not enough to leave you wanting more. “can’t even do your damn j-job right and you call yourself boss? hah, wonder if mister geto would have this issue— fuuuck!”

“low fuckin’ blow, sweets.” gojo chuckles darkly, now two fingers knuckle deep in your cunt. he wastes no time to plunge himself inside, knuckles rubbing at your velvety walls. you clamp down on his digits, desperate to keep him in for the sake of that orgasm you craved. “and here i was ready to put this pretty pussy in my mouth. you’re dickless for a few days and catch an attitude wimme? that’s cold, baby.”

“dickless?” you cock a brow, teeth gritting as you focus all your energy left on delivering your next line. he always got so cocky whenever he had a slight advantage. “a-according to who—ooh, god, shit!”

“ooh god, shit!” gojo mocks you, a third finger now joining the others. he scissors your cunt open, the slick of your arousal simplifying the slide in. you’re dripping down to his palm, so wet despite the front you’re putting up. he knows you love it whenever he angles his fingers at this angle, the one that has you knees weak and ready to fold. “face it sweets, i’m the only one who treats this pussy the way it deserves. see how well she responds to me?”

and you wish you could negate or deny him, but unfortunately, you both know he’s correct. he’s only got his fingers inside of you and you’re already at your limit. your hips eagerly chase his fingers whenever he pulls out just to thrust them back in, the pad of his thumb drawing infinity signs at your clit. your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, knot in your tummy tightening from the stimulation.

“nghhh, ‘m gonna cum,” your hand slides down the slope of his forearm till where his wrist begins. you claw at the bone, clutching and grabbing at him eagerly. damn him and his damned fingers— driving you to mush with all six inches. “more, hah, need more— gimme more!”

“manners, pretty baby.” gojo coos at your ear, despite upping his pace. his hands reach all the right spots, pussy desperate to hold out to his fingers as they fuck your cunt open, soaking the digits in your slick. “c’mon girl, what’s the magic word? i know you’ve got it in you.”

“p-please! pleasepleaseplease—” you’re cut off by your own gasp as the dam in your stomach finally breaks. you leak on his fingers, squirting your juices as your muscles convulse, walls entrapping him in. your back arches away from him and you grasp at anything in your reach, your mouth gaped. you’re cussing like a sailor, vision blacked out beneath your eye lids as your hips twitch and stutter against gojo’s ruthless pace.

your high washes down, as you lose feeling in your limbs, falling face down to the desk. your skin is moist with heat, mouth parted as drool coats the abandoned paperwork beneath you. your body twitches with oversensitivity, thighs quaking as your last few spurts spray all over gojo’s thigh.

“don’t tell me you’re all worn out from a little foreplay?” your boss teases, his free hand delivering a blow onto your ass cheek. it recoils as you jolt, snivelling like a baby. you hear the sound of his belt unbuckling, slacks falling next and pooling at his ankles. the next few moments happen in a blur, but sooner than you’d realized, you’d been turned onto your back with your legs propped over his shoulders and your folds were being played with again, the overstimulation having your toes curling in your heels.

“anddd there we go,” gojo strokes at his bricked cock, your essence serving as lube to coat his dick. he drags his fist from the base of his shaft to the tip, both your fluids and his pre cum mixture softening the jerk. “you fuckin’ water park. jeez, maybe i should plug this tiny cunt to prevent any further leakage, yeah?”

“fucking hurry already!” you don’t whine, or so you hope, though the grip of your legs at the back of his neck does tighten. with your skirt hiked up and your panties pushed to the side, gojo has a clear view of your twitching pussy, a hole designated intentionally just for him. he can already feel the cum in his balls ready to burst and fill your womb.

“and back to mouthy she goes,” he chuckles, using the leverage of his hand at his cock to slap his dick at your folds. the impact causes you to whimper, your hands clutching at the border of the desk. you wish you could wipe that smirk off his face, but fuck if the way he didn’t rub himself against you arouse you in ways that would surely haunt you after the orgasmic high faded away.

“take a deep breath for me baby, kay?” gojo instructs, thumb brushing over the skin above your hip bone, and before you’re able to retaliate, he slides in his dick.

his length is nothing to scoff at, and although you’ve already dealt with it in the past, all that prepping he’d done earlier seemed in vain. he bottoms out quickly, balls deep into you cunt. both your moans blend in harmony, overlapping one another as you settle with the aching stretch. your pussy clenches around his cock uncontrollably, both eager to push and pull him away.

“shittttt,” he whines throatily despite the huge grin on his lips. the flush pampering his skin has gotten significantly deeper, pale brows furrowed to the centre of his forehead. his hands grip at your plush thighs, fingers digging deep into your skin, surely enough to leave bruises. the bastard— he knew you’d be forced to wear your own slacks tomorrow to avoid suspicions.

“no fuckin’ way ‘m already set to bust— hah, fuck, what in the magical pussy is this?” gojo groans, snowy hair bouncing with his head thrown back. the tighter you grip at his cock, the tighter he grips at your thighs and the deeper his breaths are.

you push yourself up to your elbows, giggling at the irony of the situation. “already huh? so it wasn’t the liquor’s fault last time.” surely you were no better, entirely stimulated and body excreting all kinds of fluids from all over, but the ball was now in your court, and you planned on taking advantage. “s-should’ve known.”

naturally, he doesn’t rise to your bait, instead moving his hips away from yours, slowly dragging his cock out until the only part left in your cunt is his pink tip. “don’t make me make you eat your words, sweets.”

you raise your hand and rest it right above his pelvis, eyes set straight on his. you’re both clearly eager and ready to go, but you still had your dignity to uphold. you drag your palm upwards his torso, nails trailing up his button-up top teasingly before clutching at his tie. with the strength left in you, you yank him down and closer to you.

the shift in position stirs his dick in your cunt, knees now pressed closer to your chest. he hovers over you, a newfound look in his eyes you aren’t ready to divulge into—he was a very expressive man after all. both your lips ghosts one over another, breaths hot and mingling. you feel fuzzy, all senses fucked but collectively drawing at a same conclusion: wanting him to fuck your brains out on this desk.

“fuckin’ hell that was sexy.” it almost comes off a whisper, his tone breathless as his eyes bare deep into your. you feel the warmth of his hands fading away in favour to cup at your waist.

you tilt your head to the side, nose grazing against his. your fingers fiddle with the hem of his tie, despite never breaking the eye contact. “you gonna rock my world now?”

nothing more has to be said as he engulfs your mouth into his, knocking the wind out of you. his tongue explores the warm cave of your mouth, no inch left untouched. you moan and kiss him back just as eagerly, sliding the hand from his neck tie to his nape. your fingers thread through his soft locks, nails scratching his scalp and tugging at the roots.

he whimpers pathetically, the pain sending courses of arousal straight to his dick as his hips slam right back against yours. his thrust is rough and deep— leaving you gasping, as he takes the opportunity to kiss you even deeper while simultaneously working on his strokes.

the curve of his cock reaches even deeper than his fingers could manage, rubbing at your gummy walls and stretching them even wider. the sounds of your bodies connecting, your skins slapping, both your fluids mixing— everything felt so wanton, so filthy. he was everywhere, so far in your stomach you swear you could feel him in your throat.

the stretch of his cock at your pussy sent a fiery feeling spreading towards all of your limbs. the squelching of your pussy tightening and clenching at his dick filling the room. he soon picked up his pace, railing into you with every fibre in his body, loving the way your body bounced up in reaction to his thrusts.

“s-shit, oh fuck— don’t stop, ngh, right there!” you begged, throwing your head back against the hard surface. you’d given up on trying to keep your eyes open, the intensity of his dick ramming into your guts so fierce, you’d never felt anything like it.

he takes a sharp inhale of breath, followed by a whiny exhale. you were driving him insane, your sloppy cunt greedily clamping on his dick as if it were its lifeline. “suckin’ me in so tight, shitttt baby, ‘s like you want me to fill this perfect pussy full of my nut.” he dives his tongue deeper into your mouth for extra measure. you’re in a turmoil of multiple emotions at once but you kiss him back— until your lips feel tender and your mouth tastes of his breath.

he was annoyingly intoxicating, whether you wanted to admit it or not. your body spoke every word you were ashamed to say, responding with his own almost too perfectly.

when he slips his thumb to toy at your clit, your toes curl in your shoes and you’re accustomed to the oncoming feeling all too well, nails clawing at his skin. your words come out all fumbled mixed with tongue and drool, “s-satoru, i— ‘m gonna, don’t you stop— fuck ‘s too much— hnng!” you pull away just slightly, eyes all dazed as they roll to the back of your skull.

“shit, oh shit, me too,” he swipes at the drool dribbling past your mouth. from there, he plants more kisses at your skin, nibbling at every inch of you. he’s rutting like a madman, pace unforgiving as he focuses on that same spot that has you mindless. he finds you prettiest when you’re this way— all obedient for him. “my pretty girl— where do i— fuck, where—”

“inside.” as if you’d wanted to kill him, just as quick the word left your lips, he emptied his balls in your cunt. he sobs, his orgasm wracking over his entire body as he slams and fills your pussy full of him. the mixture of sounds is downright sinful, and whether it’d been the focus on your clit or his inhumane stamina, you soon met your similar end.

you cream on his dick once more, legs trembling as your second orgasm washes over you. your mind gone dumb, you do nothing but lay as you take the pounding inflicted on your worn out pussy. with each stroke you see stars, breasts juggling at the match of his pace. it’s damn near painful, but in the best enjoyable way. you feel yourself getting fuller by the second as you spray more of your arousal onto him.

the high eventually comes down for you both, the room reeking of sex. you’re both panting heavily, muscles twitching from overexertion. you couldn’t recall the last time you’d been fucked to the point of a momentary blackout— but you’d be damned if you’d ever let him know. he was too busy crying over your cunt anyways.

after a moment of silence, “. . .shit.”

“what?” you hum tiredly, rubbing the back of your hand to your tired hands. god, you could barely muster enough energy to do just that. what did this man eat?

he skips a few beats, before sheepishly chuckling, the hand that’d once been tracing patterns at the skin of your thighs now moving to your side. your gaze follows his movements, and it’s only when he retracts his hand does your heart sink to your chest.

“we definitely fucked these papers up.”

. . . shit.

io baby.. if you ever end up reading this i did it :c

#stargirl★rena. #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n

[erwinsvow]

wait imagine rafe’s reaction when shy!reader is talking (for once) and his friends start interrupting her and her words slowly die out, or even as a shy girl i always get self conscious when it looks like people aren’t paying attention to what i’m saying so i just stop talking at all😭 which i feel shy!reader would do with rafe.

this was the sweetest prompt ever for these two ♡ i completely feel the same way have always been like that too! my favorite thing in the world is asking people to finish their stories after someone else interrupts or remembering where they left off. small angelic behaviors!

"-and it's about two brothers, um, it follows the idea of cain and abel through different generations, so it's the brothers and then his sons, but-"

you're perched next to rafe, one of his hands around your waist keeping you in place, the other around his beer. he takes a sip, looking down at you talk about the book you were reading.

kelce had asked, and rafe is glad he did. you're too shy for your own good, clamming up around everyone. he wants to make you comfortable around his friends, at the very least. it's been going well so far, while you ask questions to them over sips of lemonade and reply thoughtfully when they answer.

you're interrupted by topper and the girl he's picked up ever since he stopped chasing after sarah.

"sounds like an english class book," topper comments.

"those books were always so boring. remember that one about the guy and the eyes-" his new girlfriend continues.

"i need another beer. kelce, need one?" topper asks, and you fall silent, curling up further next to rafe. he looks down at you, wondering why you're not continuing. you're quiet, leaning your head on his shoulder and playing with the hem of your dress.

they're talking about beer and classes now, even kelce sucked into the conversation. rafe doesn't like that, not at all, not the way your excitement faded away the second they stopped paying attention, the way topper interrupted, the shit they're talking about now instead of getting to know you, especially when you had listened to them so attentively.

"top, shut the fuck up. and stop cutting my girl off." they go quiet at once. you can hear your heart thudding in your chest. you look up at rafe surprised that he said anything. "keep goin', kid. so they're brothers?"

when it's just the two of you later that night, you hug rafe tight, pressing your head into his check and staying like that for minutes, feeling him rub your back and kiss your forehead, before pulling you away by your neck.

"what's that for?" he mumbles.

"for listening to me."

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

[naturesapphic]

Hey could you write a fanfiction with Nat x Reader who's very clingy. So one day one of the others Avengers comment Readers behavior and Reader gets very insecure and trys to stop clingyng on Nat.

So basically Fluff/Angst

Hope you like the idea at least a bit

Have a nice day!

Insecurities

Natasha romanoff x clingy!fem!reader

Warnings: some members of the team being mean, angry nat, hurt/comfort, cussing

You have been very distant from Natasha lately and she wonders why. She didn’t say or do anything wrong did she? She hoped she didn’t and even if she did, she would hope that you would come to her so y’all can work through it. Natasha was fixing her a peanut butter sandwhich when you came into the kitchen and saw her. You gave her a small smile and she gave you a bigger one.

“Hey sweetheart. I’ve missed you. Would you like to train with me? I was waiting and hoping you would join me.” She said hopefully and before you could answer snickering was heard which caused you to look behind you. Tony and Steve were standing there looking at you with judge filled eyes that made you uncomfortable. “Oh look! There’s Natasha’s clingy ass girlfriend! I bet she even follows nat to the bathroom to watch her use it!” Tony snickered as Steve laughed loudly, as they didn’t know Natasha was in the same room as them.

Tears filled your eyes as you brushed past your girlfriend and ran off into your room. Natasha felt herself lose it as she rounds the corner and see the two men she considered as friends still laughing but their faces turn pale as they see who’s in front of them. “O-oh hey nat…” Steve squeaked out as he tried to act innocent. Natasha went behind her back and pulled out two of her batons and shoved them against the wall with the deadly weapons against their throat.

“You hurt my girlfriend and made her cry. Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you.” She said lowly as she looked at them with killer eyes. “I-it was just a joke!” Steve sputtered out as he struggles against Natasha’s hold. “A fucking joke is supposed to be funny. My girlfriend crying and feeling bad about herself is NOT funny you fucking dick heads.” She growled and didn’t appreciate what they said so she turned on her batons which shocked both men.

They got electrocuted by the batons and fell to the floor on their faces which made Natasha smirk. She left them on the floor as they twitch every now and then and went to go after you. She found you in your room sitting on your bed with your head in your hands. She shut the door and immediately sat beside you on your bed and took you into her arms. “No matter what they have said to you, I love when you are clingy to me babygirl.” Natasha reassured you as you nodded your head slowly.

“They keep making comments and making fun of me everytime you aren’t around…they always tell me how clingy and annoying I was and that soon you will see it too and leave me..” you sniffled as Natasha feels her heart break. “Oh dove…I could never hate how clingy you are to me and you never ever annoy me…you never could…” she reassured you and you smiled up at her. “And don’t worry about the boys…I’m plotting their deaths now and they won’t ever be mean to you again. Not as long as you are my girl.” She said with a smile as she kisses you softly on your lips which you immediately recuperated.

No matter what anyone has said or will say. Natasha loves when you are clingy and you will never annoy her for as long as you are alive.

A/n: I hope this is what you wanted anon and I hope you enjoyed it along with everyone else! Requests are still opened for all my characters and remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all :)

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha avengers #natahsa romanoff #natalia alianovna romanova #natasha marvel #natasharomanoff #natasha #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x reader #scarlett johansson x fem!reader #scarlett johansson oneshot #scarlett johansson masterlist #scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson #black widow x fem!reader #black widow x fem reader #black widow x female reader #wlw blog #black widow fluff #black widow x you #black widow imagine #black widow mcu

[delicatebarness]

i think he knows | chapter seven

Summary: How much exactly did Bucky get from the bet?

Warnings: I'm not crying, I'm sweating from my eyes.

Word Count: 1358

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A/N: This might be my favorite chapter so far. However, enjoy, I'll be back writing on Saturday <3

Tags: @bigtreefest | @caplanbuckybarnes | @angelbabyyy99 | @mega-kittyglitter-1 | @cjand10 | @armystay89

The room felt too small, you felt like you were suffocating with him standing this close to you. You could sense that you hurt him, his eyes lost the small glint of hope the second you said it. His head dropped, no longer looking down at you but more at his sock-covered feet. 

“I wanted to talk to you,” His voice trembled, causing your heart to sink to the pit of your stomach. You didn’t know how to feel. “About everything.” 

The memories of the weekend flooded back, causing your eyes to tear up. Here he was, standing in your room, willing to talk. You had the opportunity to get your answers, but, you couldn’t bring yourself to want to hear it. 

“I, I don’t,” you stuttered as you began to flush, trying to find the right words without hurting him more. “I don’t know if I’m ready to talk,” you admitted softly, barely audible.

When he lifted his head back up to look at you, you watched a tear begin to fall down his cheek. His eyes were searching for something in yours, you weren’t sure what.

“Come for a ride with me,” he gestured toward your window, you assumed the open window was how he entered into the room earlier. “Let me take you for a ride, I promise it will only be a ride. We don’t need to talk, just,” he raised his hand to your cheek, barely touching it, he quickly pulled away stopping himself from going too far. “Please, come with me.”

Looking between Bucky and the window, you fought a silent battle in your mind not knowing what to do. Your mind, that was telling you that it was a bad idea. If you go with him, you’ll be giving him more power in the situation. Your heart was telling you the opposite. It told you what you felt that night at The Overlook was real enough. 

Your mom’s voice began to overpower all the warning signs in your head, “If you truly want to know the truth, go with your heart. Your head will make up reasons to not do something that is meant for you” The advice she gave you on Friday night after giving you your space. 

With a sigh, you nodded agreeing to go on the ride with him. His face lit up with glee as he rushed over to put his shoes and jacket back on. You set your textbooks and backpack down in their usual spot before heading to the window. Bucky climbed down first, waiting for you at the bottom. Looking up he watched as you sat in the same spot on the ledge as he did only a few nights back. Guilt once again rushed through his veins, it disappeared as quickly as it came when he noticed your heavy breathing while you looked down at the ground. 

“I’m here,” he called up to you, bringing your attention to him rather than the hard ground below. He stood watching you, his arms pulled up toward you. “I’ve got you, I promise.” 

A promise he kept, with his reassurance you began to climb down and once you were within reach, he helped you the rest of the way. As you landed, you crashed into his chest. Both of your breaths hitched, and looking up at him you caught the remorse in his eyes. For the first time since that moment with him at The Overlook, your mind went quiet. 

~

The engine hummed below you, your mind eased while you pressed against his back again. The street lights began to turn on as you rode past them, the sun disappearing below the horizon. You could have sworn he rode down every street in the town, it felt like you had been riding for hours before he stopped the bike by the lake. The silence was deafening the second he stopped the engine.

You walked side by side down to the lake, taking his jacket off he laid it over the grass, gesturing for you to take a seat on top of it. You accepted the offer with a small smile. You sat with your knee up, chin resting on top. You could feel his gaze on you as he sat beside you on the grass. 

The silence lasted the entire time you watched the sun set completely. It wasn’t until it had disappeared that you found the confidence to speak.

“Who won?” Your voice broke, and your throat felt scratchy as if you hadn’t used your vocal cords in months. Turning to look at him, you noted a confused expression on his face. “The bet, who won?” 

“I promise you, this,” He gestured between the two of you, suggesting you and him were the ‘this’. “This had nothing to do with a bet.” He spoke with confidence, never breaking eye contact with you. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, he was giving you the truth-telling signs but you weren’t fully convinced. “Sure, getting close to the quarterback’s sister, making her let down every wall, distracting her from everything she’s worked for, taking her first kiss,” the tears began to well in your eyes again, you wondered how, how were you still able to cry. “Doesn’t sound like one of your games, at all.” 

Bucky’s expression faltered as he watched the tears stream down your flushed cheeks, he reached out, his hand hovering as he debated whether to touch you or not. “I messed up, I know, I’ve got a reputation.” He pulled his hand back, running it through his hair as he let out a breath. “But this, this is different. You’re different.” His eye pleaded to you as his voice softened. He needed you to believe him. 

“How can I believe you? How do I know that you’re not just,” You couldn’t bring yourself to finish the sentence. You didn’t want it to be the truth, you desperately wanted to believe him.

“I wish I could make you understand that you mean more to me than you’ll ever know,” he sighed, his jaw tensed in frustration. “I knew you didn’t see me, for all these years, but I saw you.” He looked away from you, his gaze now focused on the water ahead of you. “I’m sorry, I did manipulate this, just not in the way you or Steve or anyone else would think.”

He stopped for a moment, he rubbed his face in his hand before back through his hair. He continued, cut you off as you began to speak. “I knew if Steve caught me looking at you, he’d tell you to stay away. I knew if he did that, you’d notice me and it was less of a risk to have you come to me than me come to you.” 

“James, I -” He looked back at you as you tried to find the right words. They didn’t come. Instead, you reached your hand out to his cheek and pulled his face close to yours. For a few seconds, you locked your eyes with his, giving them a chance to show you a reason to not do what your heart was telling you. 

He looked back at you with remorse and guilt, the kind that showed you his heart had pure intentions. They showed you just how much thinking he had hurt you, hurt him. 

You allowed yourself to take a moment to get lost in them. Until his lips parted slightly as if he was about to say something. Pressing your lips against his, you silenced him. 

The kiss was soft, bare. All the doubts and insecurities melted away with every passing second. You explored every inch of each other's mouths, not wasting a single opportunity. Your hand pulled his cheek, his fingers were tangled in your hair, and you both tried to pull each other closer. 

When you finally pulled away, a spark of hope appeared over his smile, a genuine smile. Smirk is nowhere to be seen. You both caught your breath as your hearts pounded together. 

He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. “Can I call you, Sunshine?”

---

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#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky x female reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #high school au #i think he knows series #i think he knows #bucky fic #james bucky buchanan barnes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x sister!reader #steve rogers x y/n

[buckttommy]

how do you think Tommy would've reacted if he and Buck (or with Eddie too) had already been dating when Buck was hit by lightning?

absolutely just. filled with the kind of fear you don't even think exists until you're experiencing it and you find, oh. it's actually real after all and this is the worst thing i've ever felt and ever will feel. it's like. you know in books when they say "her heart stopped?" yeah his heart literally stopped. he'll swear it to the day he dies that something in him died the moment he got the call, heard eddie's broken, fragile fucking voice on the other end of the line and like. he's known eddie for quite some time at this point and he's never heard him like this and that's terrifying in its own right because eddie is both all the parts of the army that tommy threw away, and all the kindness tommy always had to fight for. he's his rock, basically, whereas buck (evan) is the sun and hearing your rock so fucking. shaky and terrified is such a surreal and nightmarish experience like you don't actually get it until you Get It.

so he gets in the car and breaks all kind of speed limits trying to get to the hospital and when he gets there and he gets eddie in his arms he swears on his life that something in him dies again in the half second between hearing the words "buck's heart stopped" and "but we were able to get him back" like. his boyfriend could be fine the next day and some small part of his brain would still always be right back in that moment where he learned buck died. like. there's no coming back from that, no matter how well things turn out because now he's been forced to reckon with this idea that it doesn't matter how good his life is going, like. someone he loves is going to die and he can't do anything to stop it and that's shit.

so. eddie is basically the same as he was in canon. very quiet. very grieving widower. very much so doing everything he can to just stay functional except tommy is there to pickup all the little pieces that fall. he gets christopher to and from school and he makes eddie go home and rest and he absolutely does Not think about the fact that buck died. he just keeps pushing forward, keeps pushing forward, holds onto eddie when he hits a wall and clings to and comforts him while he shakes and just tries to get himself to fucking look at him (not that tommy's judging. he can't look at evan either). and that's just how they survive until buck wakes up. and then. then tommy gets his moment. and he's so like. he's happy of course because buck is alive and apparently he's had this enormous revelation and blah blah blah, but tommy. tommy has spent the last three (?) days stressed beyond belief. he's exhausted and overstimulated and it's coming across as anger/irritation even though everyone knows that's the Last Thing he should be feeling.

but buck. buck sees right through him. of course he does. they lock eyes over the sea of people/loved ones between them and when buck kicks them out and holds out a hand for him to come closer, that's the moment where tommy's brain decides that actually we're going to have a breakdown about this now. and the hospital bed is, like, far too small for the two of them because they are both firefighters and are built like tanks. but that doesn't stop buck from making room for him and tugging him down beside him and holding him while he cries and finally releases all that pent up terror that's been turning his stomach for days. and then once that passes and tommy has kissed him (reminded himself he's still alive), eddie comes back in. and the hospital bed is definitely too small for the three of them but goddamnit if they aren't going to try so tommy gets behind buck, buck gets cosy so he's cradled in the space between his legs, and then eddie lays on his stomach, kind of half on buck and half on tommy, so that his head is resting on buck's abdomen. and i know in my soul those nurses are SICK of them when they come in to check on buck and are like ....what the hell.... because why are three grown men sleeping here??? but like. buck didn't die and in this moment everything is alright, and the nurses can fucking deal with it thank you very much

#I got this message when I was sitting in the supermarket parking lot and then immediately proceeded to get nauseous about it #jack answers mail #tv: 911 #bucktommy #buddietommy

[gloomwitchwrites]

Just Like Dad (4 of 4)

Content & Warnings: referenced military career, domestic fluff

Word Count: 957

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

Checking through his daughter’s backpack strikes up a difficult conversation.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // just like dad masterlist

Price has no idea where his daughter’s disorganization from, but it certainly isn’t him.

Opening her backpack, Price cringes at the mess. It’s all crushed papers, broken pencils, scattered crayons, and food wrappers. Sighing, Price turns the backpack zipper-side down, the contents crashing to the dining room table.

She is going to sit down tonight and organize this. No exceptions.

Frowning down at the wreckage, Price begins sorting through the papers, glancing at a few just to find some order in the chaos. He picks up a piece of paper and pauses, his gaze landing on the title.

All About Me reads the top of the page.

Price smiles as he starts to read over his daughter’s answers.

Favorite color? Blue.

Favorite animal? Dragon—all capital letters with lots of exclamation points.

Happiest memory? That one just says “ghostie tree.” Her teacher will have no idea what that means, but Price knows, and he laughs so hard he almost chokes.

Price’s daughter adores Simon, and whenever he’s around, she turns into a koala, hanging off every limb. It doesn’t matter if Simon is standing or sitting down. And how does Simon feel about it? He’ll act bored, like it hardly bothers him, but then he’ll strike, tickling her until she runs away screaming only for her to return minutes later to do it all over again.

Flipping it over, Price continues to read, pausing when he reaches information about parents and guardians. This is where he slows and observers her writing. She already filled stuff out about mom, and Price knows you’d get a laugh out of her answers, but the sections about him cool his amusement.

Her answers are idyllic versions of himself, nearly whimsical in the way she describes what he does and how proud she is that he is her father. That makes him ache, brings a tightness to his chest that pushes out all other feeling. Price is proud of his work, and of his career, but it is not a beautiful thing.

It is not sweet or kind or tender.

It is rough. It is hard.

It is heartbreaking.

He has lost so many people. So many good men and women. He’s done horrible things. Stained his palms with blood. These are difficult truths he faces every day.

But there are softer moments in his career of watching those he’s mentored be promoted, of victories and celebrations, of marriages and births, and of all those he’s worked with who have gone on to lead fulfilling, happy lives.

All of that, and this isn’t what stops him.

It’s her answer to the question “what do you want to be when you grow up?”

I want to be like my dad.

Price sighs and sets the paper down on the table.

How does he respond to that? Should he even take the initiative? Should he approach the topic at all?

Price isn’t certain.

“Daddy.”

Price starts at his daughter’s voice. He turns. She’s standing just inside the archway to the living room. She has a perplexed look on her face as she glances between him and the mess on the kitchen.

“What’ve you done with my backpack?”

Price blinks, and then chuckles. “It’s a mess, love. We’ve taught you better.” Her face flushes slightly as she slowly walks up to the table. “You’re sitting down and going through this. No exceptions.”

She nods sheepishly.

Price picks up the questionnaire. “Want to talk about this? I have to sign off on it.”

Her flush grows deeper. “Did you read it?”

“I did.”

She looks up at him expectantly and Price waits a moment to see if she’ll say anything. She doesn’t.

“You said some nice things about me,” he says softly, and she beams. It reminds him of your smile, and that melts his heart down to his toes.

“It’s true,” she says brightly, happy that he’s mentioned anything at all.

“You want to be like me?” She nods. “And what do I do?”

She blinks. “Didn’t you read what I wrote?”

Price barks a laugh. “Yes, love. I did. But I want to hear it from you.”

She squares her shoulders and looks up at him with fierce determination. “You protect people. I want to protect people.”

True. But not entirely.

“How do you think I protect people?” He can see her brain processing the question and attempting to formulate an answer. She chews on her bottom lip, shoulders sagging slightly.

“I don’t know,” she finally says. “But I know that you do. You protect me and mom.”

“That’s because you and your mother are mine to protect.”

Protect is not the right word. While his actions and the things that he does might prevent horrible things happening at a global level, doing so often results in pain and suffering. It’s just what happens even when he tries to prevent that.

“Can I not do that?” she asks.

“You can do whatever you want when you’re older.”

But military life? No. He doesn’t wish that for her, and it’s not because she’s a girl. He’d feel the same if she has been born a son. No parent wants to see their child in potential danger. Doesn’t matter what age.

“So I can be just like you?”

He wants to say “no,” but instead diverts the question elsewhere. “You can’t be anything if you don’t organize this backpack.”

She groans and starts rummaging around in the mess.

Price kisses the top of her head. When he glances up, you’re standing in the archway, a soft smile on your face. Did you hear the whole conversation? Or just the end?

You stride forward and reach out. Price meets your outstretched hand, threading his fingers with yours.

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[finniestoncrane]

Your One True Nemesis

Chapter 39: also on AO3 Masterlist Here Arkham!Riddler x Female!Reader, word count: 1.5k am i going to cry because this is almost over? maybe lmao💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: some angst, but mostly ambiguous feelings

“My dear, will you please join me in the workshop?”

Eddie’s voice rang out through the hall. Loud, but not sharp. Oddly soft. And there was no hint of sarcasm, no patronising tone, to the pet name he offered you. This alone was enough to make you suspicious, sending pangs of cold, chilling fear through your body as you worried what might be in store for you. That was your default as of late. Things had been difficult since the orphanage, and you had settled comfortably on that being all your fault. And now, anytime you spoke to Eddie, anytime he needed to speak to you, your first thought was always negative, jumping to fearful conclusions that had you so on edge that you were finding yourself exhausted constantly, strung high and forever tetchy.

As you walked into the workroom, he turned to you, his face coloured by an expression you hadn’t seen often in him, making it difficult to recognise. Confusion? Lack of understanding? Lost without an answer. Unlike him. But, despite looking as though he had no idea what he was doing or what he was going to say, he spoke anyway. Very much like him. 

“I would like to assuage some… concerns I think you might have been having. Some that I shared until I spent the night dedicating my immense and spectacular brain power to this little conundrum.”

He paused, expecting you to roll your eyes at his ego, but you were staring, unblinking, waiting patiently and focused for his next words.

“As you will know, I have been incredibly busy this past few weeks. I apologise for that, and I apologise for not involving you as much in my work. I felt that you needed a rest, or deserved a rest, or… it doesn’t matter. This work… I’m intending on it being a surprise. For everyone, but mostly for you.”

Your mouth twisted into a confused look, at least that part of your worries could be filed away for now. It had been a while since he had asked anything of you, and to know it wasn’t out of anger or disappointment, or, god forbid, him practising living without you, you could feel the knots in your stomach easing slightly.

“For some time, I’ve been working on a project. One I couldn’t involve you in, even as my assistant. As a trusted party, as a friend. Or more than a friend.”

There was a struggle behind the words, as though he were worried about how they would come out. Scared he might commit to too much, to overstep a boundary neither of you had placed by calling you something more. 

“I don’t want you to be hurt.”

Your heart thudded, deep in your chest. Like it had fallen from your throat to the bottom of your rib cage. It knocked you back, the feeling, the knowledge that he cared enough to leave you out of something dangerous. To stop you from doing what was still your job just to make sure nothing bad happened to you. But you were still nervous, still speechless, and unable to speak before he started talking again.

“I think this is why I find it difficult to express my intentions for the future. Because I do have plans, but…”

He gestured around the room, at his failed plans, broken creations, settling his fingertips on old and new scars that covered his body.

“... Completely asinine to plan ahead when you’re… someone like me.”

You hated how right he was. The future, especially to an unreformed criminal, was always blurred, never quite there. Never manageable or predictable, no matter how much they would like it to be. No matter how smart they were. 

Eddie’s hand on your shoulder pulled you from your thoughts, your eyes settling on his as he focused intensely on you.

“I hate for this to be rushed, but Halloween is fast approaching and I have it on good authority that we will be rather busy come the big night. So I need you to know now that I will require you to be at this exact address at this specific time. Tomorrow night, the furthest tunnel, 9pm. Can you do that?”

You chose to ignore the tone, his question sounding very familiar to the sarcastic ones he would ask you when you first began to work for him. When he would ask if you could do something simple with the shit-eating grin of a man determined to get to you. Which of course, he had, and still did. 

“Is that… the question you had to ask me?”

Eddie reached his hand out, placing it awkwardly, almost formally, against the side of your upper arm.

“No, my dear. That has to wait until tomorrow. I just need to know… that despite everything, you’ll be there.”

The pause before you answered was a little too long, distressing on your end because it meant you didn’t immediately know the answer. Tortuous on Eddie’s as he waited to find out what his future really held in store. 

“I… I’ll be there, Eddie.”

He let out a sigh of relief, grabbing your shoulders as he placed his hands down firmly on them.

“Good. Good… Thank you.”

You offered him a smile, one that was so obviously awkward and forced to you both, before you turned and began making your way back to your room. Eddie hadn’t asked you to leave, but you knew he wanted you to. And you needed the space to think. Some time alone to settle your nerves and wonder what kind of cryptic bullshit Eddie was rambling about this time. 

A smile crossed your lips. At least that felt like normal. Eddie being strange, difficult to comprehend, frantic in his delivery of emotions. Strangely comforting. 

It really had been actually. Comforting. It was awkward, yes, but only because you let it be. You were in the headspace for that. You had been thinking negatively prior to even seeing Eddie’s face for the first time that day. But maybe the tone had been light, or would have been if you had let it be. Maybe there was something warm and tender in the way he said he needed you, to be there, to trust him. That there was an overarching meaning behind his behaviour, behind the words he said, the things he did. His future, though complicated, would be one you were a part of if he had any control over it, and that you had to trust him of that. The question he had to ask-

Fuck. 

This could be it. 

It felt like it. 

The rushed speech, the way he held your arms, looked deep into your eyes. Frantic, but excited. That felt like the mood you recognised from terrible sitcoms. The preamble to an inevitable proposal. An engagement. A declaration of love of the highest, most official, order. 

Mrs Nigma. What a complete gas. What a twist. What a… nightmare? 

Maybe he was going to do it. Maybe it would be ok. Maybe it was right. But it didn’t feel right. Did it feel wrong though?

It did feel wrong. It felt so wrong. So rushed. So unlike him. The guilt felt like it could almost swallow you, envelop you in an inky black substance that erased any other emotion you might be capable of. You had, for some reason, put an immense amount of pressure on everything. On your relationship, on Eddie. And he was responding like one of the rats in the sewer, stuck in a trap that it had tried to wriggle free from, but had eventually accepted its fate and succumbed to the slow death. Was that what your relationship was? A stifling, suffocating trap? Were you hindering his work? Stealing his focus? Making him make choices, take actions, that he never would have before or under his own will? 

But really, how much influence did you really think you could have over him? Realistically, you knew he was still, at his very rore, Edward Nigma. The Riddler. And you were still just you. Maybe a version of you that he cared for, and one he had learned to compromise with. But still, you couldn’t imagine that his feelings towards you would sway his very lifestyle or his long standing goals. 

And yet… you could let yourself believe that in fantasy. So then came another pang of guilt. You had to admit to yourself that if you could have Edward, if you could take him away from the things that gave him purpose, you would. Selfishly. You might be able to convince yourself that it was better for him in the long run, but what did you know? You weren’t his psychiatrist or psychologist or therapist. So many had tried and failed before you. What made you different?

Love? Compromise? 

So why couldn’t you compromise? 

Why couldn’t you accept your status with him? What? It wasn’t enough to just be with him anymore? You deserved more than that? 

Each hour that passed by only brought more worry, more questions without answers, possibilities both positive and negative that clouded your mind. The only thing you really were sure about was that, if he asked the question you suspected he might ask, that you wouldn’t say no.

Or would you.

Shit. 

Turns out, you really didn’t know anything. 

Just like Eddie had said when he first met you. Always right. Of course he was.

#finnie writes #arkham riddler #arkham edward nigma #riddler x reader #arkhamverse riddler #the riddler #arkhamverse #riddler #the riddler imagine #riddler smut #the riddler fanfic #riddler fanfic #riddler x you #edward nigma x reader #edward nigma #arkham!riddler #the riddler fanfiction #arkham!verse #finnie yotn

[crepes-suzette-373]

Sanji black fire theory

I know a lot of people already were talking about it, but because the theories I saw tend to associate it with some demonic epithet, I have been very hesitant to adopt it. The theory I have is that his max power would have a godly/holy name (my theory/explanation here), so I had been very reserved about the black fire thing.

I have now somewhat changed my mind about it.

It occurs to me that if the black fire is the manifestation of conqueror haki, it can still have a "holy" epithet. For example, Shanks's haki attack is called Kamusari 神避, or translated as "Divine Departure".

With that in mind I'm gonna revisit the "foxfire" idea I once mentioned, just with some slight tweaks.

"Foxfire" is kind of a fire ability that is not entirely explained. Back when Sanji said it in Thriller Bark, it was being portrayed as a joke. However, Kin'emon later uses "foxfire technique" that actually interacts with real fire. It produces fire, and also cuts fire.

Unless I missed something, I cannot find explicit description of what exactly makes the fire, but it seems to be implied to have been Haki ability. Once again, until proven otherwise, based on this I will assume that somehow Haki can generate fire.

In which case, it's not impossible that Sanji's "foxfire" joke can later manifest as a full-fledged fire ability that allows him to actually fly (like Ace).

In the same Thriller Bark context we already had a joke manifesting into reality. Remember that when Usopp told Sanji about Absalom, he just went completely berserk, and Zoro told Usopp to stop lest he "henshin into something"?

Well... further plot development shows that if Sanji get really angry, he can now indeed "henshin into something":

Some people have also theorised that the black fire will be related with the Germa modifications because of this, since the name "Stealth Black" implies that a successful modification would've made Sanji's hair black.

I somewhat agree with it, though I don't subscribe to the idea that Sanji's hair will turn black if he unlocks the ability to use black fire.

Going back to Kin'emon's fire ability. Assuming that it's indeed haki, then it means that he makes the fire by channelling the haki into his sword. In which case, maybe that was the same with Sanji, except that it's channelled through his leg and not through a tool or weapon.

It may be possible that if Sanji manifests advanced Conqueror Haki, which can be infused in body parts or weapons, his fire legs will be black flames. It would also match his already existing epithet, "Black Leg".

This also fits my theory about Sanji being symbolised by "solar eclipse" in relation to Kamen Rider. I may have to re-explain it based on the new material I have, but the short of it is: I see Sora as representing "sun", while Germa is "moon". Solar eclipse is a phenomenon where the sun and moon lines up.

The Kamen Rider connection is that Kamen Rider Black, whose name and powers symbolise solar eclipse, has all the body modifications given to him (including an exoskeleton armour) by the evil organisation. However, due to still having human heart, he uses all that power for good. I strongly feel that sensei used this particular character as Sanji's reference.

Therefore, I feel that this means that Sanji will use "both the sun and moon together", not see the "moon" as a hindrance. He will "redeem" the exoskeleton and other Germa modifications that he has. Someone somehow will fix it later so that it will not affect his ability to empathise and be kind, and he will combine the exoskeleton (Germa science) with Armament Haki and Conqueror Haki (Sora's influence) to use the black flames.

Why is Haki "Sora's influence"? Because as we've seen with the other brothers, not having fear of death means that they also don't have a particularly strong will to push themselves to the limit. They do have some fighting spirit still, but it doesn't seem to be enough.

Even if you argue that Perospero's candy is too strong to break, you don't see the Vinsmoke brothers bothering to even try. For example, until proven otherwise, Yonji's power was supposedly some kind of superstrength that is above Ichiji and Niji. Why is he talking about the weapons and not trying to break free?

Compare that to Luffy, who we know has very strong will, using all his power to try to pull himself free from the book pins that trapped him. Nami and Opera both told him it's no use, but he still tries anyway.

Haki is a power that comes from willpower. No strong will, no haki. Therefore, Sanji's ability to use haki is because of Sora's efforts to preserve his "heart".

Aside from the symbolism, we already saw that he needed to have the exoskeleton in order to use Ifrit Jambe. His normal body is not strong enough to withstand the heat. If black fire is even more powerful than Ifrit, he will need the exoskeleton even more than this.

It would be really cool if the flying foxfire joke manifests as black fire wings, really. It would be a close allusion to the Lunarians, without actually making him one.

My personal favourite guesses for the "godly/holy" names Sanji might use for his max power are: Acala (Fudou Myou'ou is a god connected to solar eclipse), Garuda (Lunarians resemble Garuda), Archangel (as a counter to Seraphim)

I'm sort of reserved about Garuda, honestly, because Sanji knows that was Judge's name. The clones were saying it when the two fought. Sanji might not want to use it as his own power name, because he hates Judge, and even "redeeming" the Germa ability for good usage might not erase his distaste for the name.

Still, maybe it will turn out that Garuda has a much deeper significance in One Piece lore. A personal favourite theory of mine is that Germa in the past is actually a force of good, and Sanji will be the one to "reclaim" that good past somehow. Maybe Garuda is related to that, and so if the good outweighs the awful stuff Germa has become, maybe he'll be okay with it.

Secondary guesses that are still cool, but not my personal preference: Draco/Dragon (due to yin yang symbolism), Vulcan (fire god), Surya (sun), Ignis/Agni (also fire).

A rather unlikely option, but it would be funny if it's true: "Erasmus". St Elmo's fire is sort of the Western version of foxfire, and "Elmo" is the shortened form of "Erasmus". Funny because then we can make Hellmo memes about it.

#one piece #analysis #germa 66 #vinsmoke family #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #theory

[wheels-of-despair]

Live A Little | A Worth It AU | Ralph Penbury x You | Masterlist

In This Edition: The unsinkable ship sinks! Words: 3.2k

You're recovering from a particularly passionate round of love-making when someone knocks at Ralph's door.

You draw the sheets up to cover your exposed chest with wide eyes. Were you too loud? Has someone reported you? Are you going to be carted away for having premarital sex on an ocean liner? Is it Aunt Molly, here to tell you that she was only joking about not coming back to your room tonight? Is it Victoria, coming to ruin your night?

As your mind goes wild with worry, Ralph reaches for the pocket watch beside his bed.

"It's after midnight," he grumbles, but stands and pulls on his robe. He notices your fear, and his grumpy face softens. "Stay there, love, I'm sure it's nothing. I'll take care of it."

You slink further beneath the covers and close your eyes, hoping whoever it is has no idea you're in here.

"Yes?"

"Sorry to wake you, sir, but the captain has ordered everyone to put on their life belts and come to the boat deck. Be sure to dress warmly, it's quite cold out."

"What's happened?" Ralph asks, but there's no answer.

You come out of hiding when the door closes.

"They want us to put on life belts and warm clothes," Ralph recaps, scratching his head. "But he wouldn't say why. Suppose we ought to?"

You clamber out of bed silently and get dressed as quickly as you can, with the assistance of Ralph. Disturbing first-class passengers in the middle of the night? That decision was not made lightly. Something is wrong.

"I should go check in with my aunt," you say quietly, shaking with fear. Ralph notices, and envelops you in a warm hug.

"And get your coat," he reminds you with a kiss to your forehead. "Let me finish getting dressed, and I'll escort you to her."

"Thank you," you whisper.

Ralph finishes dressing and pulls two life belts from the wardrobe. He drapes the life belts and his coat over his arm, and guides you from the room.

The hallway is bustling with confused passengers.

"One second," he says gently, stopping to knock on Victoria's door. "Victoria!"

"What?!" she snaps from within.

"Did the steward tell you to put on a life belt and come above deck?"

"It makes me look like a damned cow!"

"Are you coming?"

"Do not rush me, Ralph!"

"Let's go," he sighs.

You hold tightly to Ralph's hand as he leads you through the crowded hallways. You open the door of your cabin to find Aunt Molly, already dressed for the cold and wearing her life belt, rifling through the wardrobe.

"There you are honey, I was getting ready to come find you! Here, put this on."

She holds out your coat, and you let her help you into it.

"Are you alright?" she asks. Are you? Your hands are shaking, and your heart is beating much faster than it should be. You can't seem to find your words.

"It's a little hectic out there in the halls, she'll be alright once things calm down," Ralph answers for you. He slips your life belt over your coat and ties the laces while you stand there, shaking uselessly.

"You better suit up too too, darlin', don't want you catching pneumonia out there."

Molly's concern for Ralph brings a smile to your face, and kicks your body back into gear. He shrugs into his coat, and you step forward to help him into his life belt. He smiles in thanks.

"Alright, are we ready? It's probably just some kind of drill, we'll be back to bed in an hour. But it's better safe than sorry!"

Your aunt's calm and positive demeanor makes you relax enough to nod in agreement. Ralph wraps an arm around your back and leads you out of the room. You look back to make sure Molly is following.

"I'm right here, honey," she says.

A crowd has gathered at the end of the hallway. You and Ralph stop, rather than force your way through them. This feels wrong. Everything about this feels wrong.

"The man said to the deck, people!" your aunt reminds them. She steps around you and starts walking. After a few bumps, people begin to move aside. You and Ralph follow in her wake. There's not enough room to walk side by side, so his fingers intertwine with yours, and you follow closely behind. You hold on to him gratefully; you're never letting him go.

You step out onto the deck, and the frigid air bites at your exposed skin immediately. You hold Ralph's hand tighter and follow him through the crowd. The deck is packed with bodies. Crewmen shout orders all around and struggle with ropes holding up the lifeboats, the crowd buzzes with questions, and something mechanical is making a horrible racket. It's overwhelming. When Ralph finally stops, he turns to you.

"Are you alright, love?" You don't respond, but he pulls you close.

The unsinkable ship is sinking. They're evacuating passengers. They're sending tiny toy boats out into the massive sea, where humans will be separated from the darkness and creatures below by a single strip of wood and a prayer.

The thought makes your knees give out, and Ralph grabs you and holds you to him.

"It's alright," he says into your ear. "It's going to be alright."

You cling to him, trying to focus on his calming presence and warmth, rather than the chaos and cold around you… until a familiar voice sends a chill down your spine.

"There you are, Ralph!" Victoria huffs, shoving her way through the crowd to get to him. "I can't believe you abandoned me in my time of crisis!"

"I'm sorry," he apologizes, although he doesn't need to. She hadn't sounded like she needed any help. She and her girlfriends have opted out of the unflattering life belts, donning fur coats and hats instead.

"Honestly, running off with some trollop instead of looking after your own sister. What's gotten into you?!"

Before Ralph can reply, one of the officers yells something you can't hear, and the line lurches forward. You hold tightly to him, for fear of falling and being trampled. He gives you a squeeze and keeps you right next to him.

"WOMEN AND CHILDREN ONLY!" the officer bellows.

Before you can start panicking about what this means for Ralph, Victoria and her girlfriends rush forward. They knock into the pair of you as they pass, eager to get closer to the front of the line.

"Victoria?" he asks in a small voice. It's a wonder she even heard him.

"You heard the man, Ralph!" she snaps. He stands there, frozen, watching his sister push her way to the boat.

"Oh! Ralph!" she says, turning. Has she realized that she's leaving her brother to his death? Is she at least going to say goodbye? "Do you have any money on you? Geraldine cleaned me out at dominoes after dinner, and that worthless maid of mine said the purser's office was closed," she pouts.

That's when you see Ralph's heart break for the third time during this short trip.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" You've been struggling to find your words all night, but your rage unsticks your tongue.

"It's not like he's going to need it," Victoria shrugs. Your jaw drops. You'd very much like to push her over the edge of the ship, but that would require leaving Ralph's side.

"You're next, miss!" a crew member announces. Victoria pushes one of her alleged friends out of the way and steps to the front of the line, and a man lifts her down into the boat and out of sight. Ralph's face crumples, and you pull him to you. The line lurches forward again, but you don't care. The only thing you care about is Ralph.

"Come on," your aunt shouts a moment later, waving you toward her from her place at the front of the line she's reclaimed, now that Victoria and her friends have been seated. You can't let Ralph go. You watch an officer help Aunt Molly in, and she turns her attention to you as soon as she's inside.

"Get in the boat," she orders, firmer now. You shake your head.

"Girl, get over here!"

"No," you whisper, knowing she can't hear you. She fixes you with a fiery glare. "I love you, Aunt Molly," you say a bit louder. "Tell my parents I love them, too." Ralph lifts his head to look at you, not quite comprehending what's happening in his heartbroken state. One look at his tear-streaked face is all it takes to know you're doing the right thing.

It's the only thing.

"Don't you dare!" Molly gets up from her seat to come get you, and nearly knocks over the woman climbing in.

You take Ralph's hand and begin backing away. He doesn't put up a fight; he follows blindly, tears still streaming down his face.

"I'm not done living yet!" you yell to Aunt Molly before disappearing into the crowd. You and Ralph keep stumbling backwards until you hit a wall. While it's mostly women at the front, the men stand here in a cloud of cigar smoke, probably hoping the officer will soften or call for a volunteer oarsman.

You focus on Ralph, who's still in shock over being abandoned by the person he entered this world with. Sobs rack through his body, their volume lessened by sound of the chatter and machinery nearby.

"Come on, sweetheart." You wrap an arm around his waist, made bulkier by the life belt and coat, and begin walking away from the crowd. By the time you reach the other side of the deck - less crowded, but more tilted - Ralph has started coming to his senses.

"You should've gotten on the boat. I should have made you."

"Do I look like the kind of person who can be made to do anything?" you ask, looking up at him with a playful smile. He does not return it.

"We're going to die here," he trembles.

"Ralph, we're all going to die sometime," you say gently, reaching out to wipe away a tear. You don't know how or why you're being so calm about this, but a sense of peace has washed over you since dragging Ralph away from the crowd. His face crumples again. You wrap your arms around him and hold him tight, letting him sob on your shoulder until a thought occurs to you.

"Ralph?" you place a hand on each of his shoulders and push him back so you can look at him. Tears stream from his eyes and into the corners of his mouth. You reach up to wipe them away. "I've got a story for you." Holding his face in your hands and staring into his bloodshot eyes, you smile. "It's about a girl who decided she'd rather spend the next ten minutes with the boy she loves… than a lifetime with one she doesn't." His chin quivers. "How's that for romantic?" you laugh, wiping away a tear of your own.

"You're mad," he says in disbelief.

"You're not the first person to tell me that," you chuckle.

"I can't believe you missed your chance because of me," he shakes his head, "You shouldn't have--" You silence him with a warm embrace.

"You're worth it," you whisper into his ear. "I love you, Ralph."

"I love you too," he mumbles into your neck. "Would you really have married me some day?"

"Absolutely," you answer with sincerity.

Ralph pulls back and chuckles darkly, wiping his eyes. "Finally find someone who actually loves me, and now we're both going to die."

"But at least we get to do it together." You share a smile and lean your foreheads together, closing your eyes and savoring each other's warmth on this cold night.

There are worse ways to die, you suppose.

"Miss!"

Your heads snap up and turn in the direction of the shout.

"Come along, miss, there's still room," an older gentleman with a mustache holds an inviting hand out. Behind him, a small gathering of men part to reveal an impatient officer and a half-full life boat.

"Not without him," you say firmly.

"Don't be stupid," Ralph mutters. You don't move.

The mustached man turns to the officer, who waves you forward. "Come on, then." You grab Ralph's hand and rush toward the boat before the officer can change his mind.

"Are you sure?" Ralph asks as you approach. You mentally shush him.

"Can't fill a boat with women when there are none," the officer shrugs. "In you get." Two men help you climb into the boat, but you don't sit until Ralph is halfway over the railing behind you. Once he's in place beside you, you survey the crowd. There really are no more women here. It seems they've all gathered on the side where it seems safer.

The officer waves more men forward. You and Ralph cling to each other for dear life as they clamber aboard, rocking the little boat with each step.

"Right then, that's enough. Lower away!" The officer orders, before a great drop makes your heart rise into your throat. Ralph holds you tighter, and you bury your face in his shoulder. You're probably only dropping a few inches at a time, but you're sure that with each drop, the boat is going to tip over and you're going to fall into the ocean. You close your eyes tight and cling to the man you love, feeling sicker with each drop, until you hit the water.

Only then do you open your eyes. You're in the ocean. One tiny little boat on that great wide sea. You look up at the officer, smaller in the distance now. The sky lights up behind him with a flare, signaling for help. The men in your boat remove the ropes and reach for oars.

You want desperately to shut your eyes and block it all out as you leave Titanic behind, but you can't look away. You can't even blink. Are your eyes frozen? You don't know how you were able to stand upright on that tilting ship; her front is considerably closer to the sea than her back. Everyone still on board looks crooked.

You thought the sight of the ship's tilt was terrifying, but nothing could have prepared you for what came next.

You and Ralph hold each other and watch the next several minutes unfold in absolute horror. You can't move. You can't speak. You can't even cry as you watch the sea snap the unsinkable ship in half with an ungodly roar and pull her beneath the surface to claim her.

But you can hear the people she left behind.

The only thing louder than the screams is the silence that follows.

You and Ralph sit together, huddled as close as you can get on the dark and tiny boat, for what feels like days. It's pitch black. You've never been so cold in your life. Your only comfort is knowing that Ralph is beside you.

When the sun begins to rise, you close your eyes for what you imagine is the first time in hours. You feel the rays warming your frozen face, and breathe out a shaky sigh. It's a comfort, despite the choppy sea and the biting wind that had arrived with the dawn.

"Look!" someone shouts. You don't have the strength to turn, but gather from the excited shouts that a ship has been spotted. You stay tucked into Ralph's side as the men with the oars begin rowing faster, with renewed purpose, toward the ship that's come to your rescue.

The Titanic's lifeboats reunite beside the ship. Carpathia, her bow reads. You watch from below as a rope ladder is thrown down, and survivors begin climbing it one by one and disappearing into a hole in the side of the ship. The children, and others too weak to climb on their own, are hoisted up in a canvas sack.

You wait patiently, close to your Ralph, until your boat arrives at the ladder. He begins rubbing your hands between his, trying to get some feeling back into them before you have use them to climb. You'll die before you let them hoist you up like a child.

The men insist the ladies go first. You insist on being the last. The men encourage you when it's your turn, like you've been holding back because you're afraid. You're not afraid. You just don't want to leave Ralph behind. You look at him when it's your turn.

"Go on, love, I'll be right behind you," he croaks out. You squeeze his hand and take hold of the ladder, looking up at your seemingly impossible task. You can do this. This is nothing. You begin your climb, counting each rung as you ascend, until you're pulled into the ship by two pairs of strong hands. You collapse on the floor behind them, summoning the last bit of your strength to crawl to the wall and get out of the way.

A moment later, Ralph joins you on the floor. Your names and necessary information are recorded in a logbook as the hallway fills with people from your boat.

When everyone is out, a steward asks you all to follow him. You and Ralph haul yourselves off the floor and weave through a labyrinth of hallways and stairs, into a lounge of some sort with plush carpets and chairs everywhere. You're each given a blanket, instructed where to find tea and coffee and hot soup, and left to your own devices. You look around helplessly for a moment, not sure what to do or where to go. At least it's warm. Other passengers are curled up in chairs, or shakily drinking tea, or frantically searching for loved ones.

Spotting a quiet corner behind a table and chairs, you pull Ralph toward it. His feet drag as he follows. Neither of you has the energy to hunt for food. Sleep seems like the best option. You begin to untie your life belt, but hesitate with a look at Ralph.

"Why does it feel like we should leave them on?" you ask, your voice hoarse.

"Because nothing will ever feel safe again," he responds, with no emotion in his voice. You give his hand a quick squeeze and begin untying yours.

"I think I'll take body heat over a slab of cork today."

Ralph unties his as well, and you set them aside. You use your coats to create a makeshift bed on the floor, and lie down with your back to the wall. Ralph joins you without hesitation.

He snuggles close in your little nook behind the chairs, and you combine your blankets and pull one up over your heads. After being exposed to the cold wind on the frozen sea for so long, this warm little cocoon with Ralph is the only place you want to be.

"Love you," he whispers, eyes already beginning to drift closed.

"Love you, too," you whisper back, using your last bit of strength to lean forward a few inches and kiss the tip of his frozen nose.

And then, you both pass out in your quiet little hiding place, completely oblivious to the hundreds of people flowing in and out of this room.

Note: The order was "women and children first." Officer Lightoller, on the port side, interpreted this as "women and children only". Officer Murdoch, on the starboard side, interpreted this as "women and children first… then men, if there's room." There were boats with men-folk, from all classes - and several working men, too - and they did not have to bribe their way on. They just had to be in the right place at the right time.

And thanks to our love for Ralph, that's exactly where he was.

This is where you and Ralph spent the night.

#writings of despair #ralphtanic #ralph penbury #ralph penbury x you #ralph penbury x reader #ralph timewasters

[mid-nightowl]

…can i ask you to share more of your thoughts on fem!jaytim vibes

hi cory!!!! yes, yes i can :) <3

most of my thoughts come from this lil snippet and my tags.

my thoughts on fem!jaytim can be boiled down to this line: “Her successor fascinates her. She kind of wants to let him dissect her, little freak that he is.” 

like tim is a freak who would absolutely want to dissect and take jaye apart piece by piece just to get to the bottom of whatever the hell is wrong with her (obsessive) and jaye would let him bc she wants to know what the hell is wrong with him (affectionate). 

It’s almost a scientist and their never-ending experiment, but not quite?

like the dissection, its the act, the intimacy, the trust in being vulnerable and completely open on the table for them to see, a show and a sight but not a performance, it's the ‘i’m going to take you apart piece by piece, not to fix you or change you, but just to understand you’, and 'i’m going to get my hands dirty and dig into you, and it can be voluntarily or not, it can be with anesthesia or nothing but im going to know you whether you like it or not,' paired with 'you are going to have to cut me open to get to know me, it has to be cold and violent, it has to be artful and methodological.'

but jaye started off with ‘i want to destroy you, take you to the brink, the edge of despair and fury and hatred and let you go without any catharsis,’ kind of like capturing a wild animal, testing on it, and then releasing it back into the wild with a tag to see what it will do after being changed (will it return back to it’s normal routine or will it come back for more?)

and then tim kept coming back. and that's when jaye is like alright yeah, i'll let you rip me open and give me a name (or maybe give me back my name?) and tim does, and he does it carefully, adoringly, obsessively.

and i think tim’s obsessive focus, paired with the idea of the knife/scalpel = love, is what jaye would respond to best. she was raised in violence, and probably thinks that fighting and pain is caring and love, AND she’s never been a priority in anyone’s life. so for tim to obsess and know her in ways that no one else has before (or have even bothered) is captivating, exciting, and absolutely mind-boggling, and i think jaye would get possessive, like ‘this robin, this little freak is mine.'

i, hmmm. running out of coherent thoughts after this, so um i guess enjoy? <3

#asks #felinemotif #i don't write/talk about jaytim very much; ive always been a jaydick girlie #but this was a lot of fun to think about and like actually get down my thoughts in a somewhat coherent manner #i think there's another piece here about the dissection as an intimacy that only requires the subject and the surgeon/scientist #and the idea of labelling and taking photos of the parts something about learning and teaching but also remembering #another part: once the dissection is done once tim knows all of jaye does he stay? #which i think devolves into jaye going out of her way to prolong the dissection bc she thinks it may be temporary between her & tim #whereas tim is thinking okay i know all the pieces and parts which means im the perfect partner for jaye #no one knows her better than me AND no one will get to know her like i do #(the whole dissection thing too like tim is not afraid about hurting jaye whereas bruce is bc he knew her before) #(bruce thinks “dissection” would = change bad or good while tim knows it just means learning and knowing) #like it's going to be painful before it gets better and bruce doesn't want to go through the pain of knowing this version of jaye #bc it means acknowledging what he's done or not done #and tim's a fixer at heart but to fix things you gotta know what you're dealing with #problem is tim fell in love and realized fixing things would just make it worst so #he is very content with his tall gf that could kill him with her thighs and lets him do his freaky experiments<3 #okay wow i was not done with the thoughts ajfkagjbsg imma stop now #jaytim #fem!jaytim

[toyfrogs]

help 😀

#I feel like I managed to accustom my friends when it comes to my mum’s weird restrictions and reactions because I tell them pretty much #everything that happens in our relationship and usually ask them for advice #but the one thing that frustrates me is that my boyfriend has no idea how bad things are and thankfully doesn’t understand what it’s like to #have a parent that controls the way you dress/wear your makeup and hair and dictates what you’re supposed to do for a living because they #want you to have a comfortable life and not go through extreme poverty like they did (I know her intentions are the best but she just #doesn’t know how to act in a way that I can comprehend fully…I love her with all my heart and it would literally kill me to have to cut ties #and I’m currently freaking out because I still haven’t told her I’m dating someone who’s not the ideal type she thinks would be a good fit #for me and it’s destroying me because I’ve never felt this good and have never been treated with so much care and respect and I’ve never had #so much reassurance that I’m loved and this relationship is just something I’m not willing to give up on or have it be taken away from me #but at the same time I NEED to tell her because how am I supposed to keep lying about which friends I’m going out with and not be able to #freely spend quality time with the person I love without stressing about time and being scared she’s gonna call or ask for pictures or #I’m planning on telling her but I’m SO terrified to lose him and also scared he’s gonna make my life a living heel and think I’m lying #about every little thing I do in the future and stop me from seeing him or having a phone or idk???? #things are way too unpredictable in this house and have always been and I HATE that

[padfootastic]

I don’t know if anyone else has had this thought (wouldn’t surprise me) but I’ve never seen anyone talk about it.

You can not convince me that James Potter didn’t enchanted his glass to do cool shit. Perhaps he got them to function kinda like the map but for anywhere and everywhere he is. Maybe they can show the entire lay out of the building or area he’s in, let him see through stuff, show him what people are thinking, replay memories not just his own but those of others (sorta like a pensive) maybe they can identify dark wizards or something I don’t know! But there is NO way James and Sirius didn’t come with this ✨brilliant✨ idea. The possibility are astounding.

I don’t think he’d enchant them to cheat in school he didn’t need the help nor do I think he’d use them in that stereotypical way of seeing through peoples clothes or anything of that sort. That’s stuff kinda lame in my opinion.

anon be honest, did u see my answer to another ask comparing james to tony stark a while ago? *squints suspiciously*

lol i’m kidding but u cannot tell me that isn’t ridiculously futuristic innovator of him. and i love it. j&s’ troublemaking was always breaking rules & pushing the boundaries of magic (for me) and this fits perfectly for them. i bet they had so many half-discarded genius ideas for how to make things around them different or better.

lol @ james potter fucking around and accidentally inventing not just muggle television but *portable* muggle televisions. very on brand.

#james potter #sirius black #ok fully agree that our boy won’t engage in that kind of sleazy behaviour #BUT. one caveat. pls. #he tweaks it specifically to look thru sirius’ clothes (w his blessing + help of course) #(only if sirius gets a matching pair) #look my prongsfoot + exhibitionist heart couldn’t help it ok? #(now i’m wondering about the poor soul who accidentally picks up the glasses and gets an eyeful lol) #back to ur idea tho. imagine if they knew about the dark mark in the first war #and make like an x ray thing that detects specially that under clothes/charms bc it’s connected to the dark magic in it #or there’s like a detector that picks up traces of magic so u can see if it was cast in the vicinity #like i just imagine him fucking around with runes one day #(i fully hc these dumb boys w no regard for their life were playing around w those carelessly) #and just stumbles upon these revolutionary uses #but also. u know those casual geniuses who don’t realise they’re doing something groundbreaking? just throw it in random conversations #like that. he’ll just mention over breakfast one day ‘yeah i managed to see bone through the human body yesterday. it was weird.’ #everyone’s like ??? and he’s just snacking on an apple like ‘moony did u know u have minute cracks going up yours?’ #anon look at the pandora’s box you’ve opened here #i cannot stop thinking of oblivious genius james now lol #i’m also kind of obsessed with magical + muggle overlap in inventions like the *potential* #pen’s asks

[duuhrayliegh]

consequences

a/n: I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE THIS CAME FROM BUT HERE YOU GO

also i'm more than happy to continue this if yall want more, just LET ME KNOW

other works

“You want to what?"

"To open our relationship."

You stare at him in disbelief, clutching the soft blanket in your hands. There's a sharp ringing sounding through your eardrums and everything around you slows. He keeps talking, his voice breaking through the barrier of fog that encompasses your senses.

"I want us to remain honest with each other, but this is the only way to keep our relationship healthy."

He steps away from the kitchen counter, wearing the sports jacket you bought him for your sister's wedding.

"I want the both of us to disclose when we start dating someone else. That's the main boundary, we can hammer out all the ground rules later. Right now, I'm going on a date, so uh," he pauses as he checks his reflection in the mirror beside the door one last time, "don't wait up."

You try to focus on his words, but no matter your efforts you weren't able to process anything. His keys jangle in his grip and you faintly recognize the sound of the door slamming closed and his footsteps echoing down the empty corridor of your apartment.

"I still can't believe he said that to you."

The singular ice ball hits against the sides of your glass with each tilt of your wrist. You take a long drag of the dark liquor before laughing sardonically.

"It's been six months of him parading his dates around." Another sip, your work skirt digs into your thighs painfully. You distract yourself by reaching for a peanut from the nearly empty bowl. "And what's worse is that he still expects me to be the doting wife that he comes home to every night!"

The bartender refills your glass while you sneak another peanut. You card your fingers through your hair as you continue to rant. A dull throb radiates in between your brows so your eyes slide closed as you take deep breaths.

"Well, I can't imagine you're doing so bad yourself."

You hum questioningly at the man, focusing your gaze on the dark-haired bartender, his stubble dusting his sharp jaw as the muscles work beneath the skin. His eyes haven't left you since you sat down in front of him.

"I see you in here." You begin to pick at the skin around your nails and he nudges a bowl of peanuts in your direction. "Men come up to you all the time. You've been on dates too, right?"

You reach for a peanut and crack open the grainy shell, biting the inside of your cheek. Your bartender laughs incredulously and then presses his hands into his side of the counter to lean over toward you. The cloth he tosses over his shoulder must be damp because the fabric of his white button-up is darkened there.

"Focus on me, Peanut."

Your eyes snap to his, unable to keep the overflow of expression from brimming beneath the surface. Your heart cracks further as he visibly softens, crumpling against the counter to cover your hand with his. A tense silence stretches between the two of you, charging the air with unwelcome emotions.

Your bartender’s spare hand cups your jaw and swipes away the glistening tears fleeing down your cheeks. Sniffling loudly while straightening in your seat, you pull away from his touch—effectively stopping yourself from melting into him.

You’ve worked so hard to make this shitty dive bar your safe place, you’ll be damned if you ruin it with a fling.

“I don’t even know why I’m wasting tears on this whole thing.” You take three deep breaths—whiskey and apples invade your senses. The man in front of you tilts his head to the side while drying a few crystal glasses.

“You’re avoiding my question, Peanut.” He turns briefly and you try to figure a way out as the cups clink softly. “You have been dating too, right?”

Your teeth trap your bottom lip, peeling off the thin layers of skin. You purposely avoid his eyes, doing less than nothing to hide your answer.

“Jesus, Peanut. What’s stopping you?”

You huff, focusing your attention on the patrons around you. There’s noticeably less than there were when you first arrived. The bar guests go about their business, underlying emotions kept close to their chest and out of sight to everyone else. You wish you could be that way, instead of sewing your heart to your sleeve for anyone to rip pieces from.

“I--" You hesitate, twirling your glass, watching as the ice fights to keep up with the sudden movements you force on its surroundings.

"Some small part of me still loves him. No matter how much he hurts me with this whole open relationship bullshit. I'm still thinking that one day he'll wake up and remember that I've been his loving wife and partner for the past six years. This can't be my new reality. It just can't. He's meant to be my partner for life, not my partner who has really good friends. Not my partner with a girlfriend or some fuck buddy across town."

This is the can of worms that you'd hoped to keep locked away from the Commando's dive bar. What you've held close to your chest every night you slink past the blonde bouncer, Steve. The information you never let slip to the six-foot-five bartender with the metal arm. And now, you can't seem to stop the words from leaving your mouth.

"He's supposed to be my husband. Why isn't he my husband? Is it me? He said that we would talk about what the reason was, but I can't get him to sit down with me. I can't even get him to reply to a text, much less answer questions about our relationship."

You spit the last word before downing the rest of your drink in one go. Bucky stands patiently as you let loose every emotion that you've bottled up for the past six years. Further in the bar, someone shouts for the last call.

"Why don't I date? Because I love him. Because outside of him, I don't know who I am. I don't date because I've been with the same man for almost a decade and I wouldn't even know where to begin. I can't see past where I'm at right now. There is no future for me outside of the hell that I find myself in now. I can't date because I want to be there for when my husband remembers that I exist. I want to be there for him like he wasn't for me because I know the novelty of his flings will wear off soon enough. And maybe that makes me worse than him, but I don't know if I have the energy to care anymore."

There's now a heavy silence covering you and your whole body slumps because of it. Despite feeling the biggest breath of relief of getting those emotions out in the open, you now have to deal with what they mean. You were always taught that saying your emotions out loud would only lead to more issues, but here you fucking are. Sometimes these things are unavoidable.

"I call bullshit."

Your jaw drops as your bartender rocks away from the counter. You flounder as he starts performing closing duties. You stare at Bucky's back, slightly distracted by the muscles working underneath the tight material.

"Did you just bullshit my feelings?"

Bucky turns halfway, eyebrows raised, "Yep."

Your bartender plucks the glass in front of you and drops it in the sink on his way to the cash register. If you were in a whole state, you'd smack back with a witty comment, but you're tired.

"You can't bullshit my feelings."

He holds a stack of twenties in one hand and he pins you with the same expression as before.

"Uh, yeah I can."

He continues to count the register and tosses a goodbye to the other bartender. A long lull stretches between you. Now it's just the two of you in the bar, and that must have been what he was waiting on because it's only now that he really talks.

"Peanut, how long have you been coming here?"

You furrow your brow at the question, not sure where he's taking his line of questioning.

"I don't know, four months?"

“Four months, twenty days."

Bucky's retort is quick and final. A fact. Something he's committed to memory. You're taken aback by the heavy tone he layers between the syllables.

"And for those four months and twenty days, I've stood behind this counter and watched you wallow. I've watched you turn down proposition after proposition. I've had Steve throw out dozens of men for how they speak about you. I've sat back and tried to be the listening ear that you need because you're clearly going through a really difficult time. I've never been in the position that you're in and I'm not going to pretend that I understand the half of it."

He slams the drawer closed and rounds the countertop. His boots thud against the floor violently, stopping beside the barstool next to you. Your bartender leans down and swings your stool to face his before taking a seat.

"I've stood behind that bar and was able to listen to quite a bit. But what I can't have is you thinking that you're the issue."

His hand slips into yours, his thumb tracing the knuckles of your fingers. Tears begin to brim at your waterline again, but you refuse to let them fall.

"Peanut, you're the most loyal person I've met in recent years. You love fiercely and you hurt even harder. Hell, you've been with this guy for almost ten years and he's been fucking you over for the past six months and you're sitting in this bar defending him to a relative stranger!"

"But he--"

"You're husband took the decision away from you and then framed it in a way that made you out to be the bad guy. He put you in a nearly impossible situation because he knew you were too loyal to him to do anything about it."

"He didn--"

"Yes, he did."

Having it laid out like that by the one person you wanted to be kept away from all of it was eye-opening. Your shoulders crumple and a new wave of tears threatens to escape.

"Now, this isn't the best time, but I feel like in a situation like yours there's never going to be a 'right' time."

Bucky sits up straighter and sticks his metal hand out to you.

"Hi. I'm Bucky Barnes. I'm a retired Army Sergeant and I now work in the Howling Commandos bar. I've been your bartender for the past four months and twenty days. Over that time, I've grown to care for you, more than a bartender should. Because of that fact, I want to take you out on a date."

You suck in a breath sharply, immediately going to deny him, only for Bucky to cut you off.

"You don't have to give me an answer right now, Peanut. Just think about it and whenever you're ready, I hope I'm your first call."

You chew on the inside of your cheek, gnawing on the idea. You have grown fond of Bucky. He's become a sort of safety net for you these past few months. Going home has proven to be more and more of a chore so you spend hours on end in the Howling Commandos.

What if you and Bucky go on a date and you hate it? What if you date and you have a huge falling out? What if you--

"I can see the wheels turning, Peanut." He taps your temple with a cold metal finger. "What are you thinking?"

"What if we end up not working out?"

"What if we do?"

The question hangs. The implication is clear. You could spend hours going through the what-if scenarios, both positive and negative. You'll never truly know until you take a leap of faith.

"What would your boss think of you dating one of your new regulars though?"

You're grasping at straws, but you're really trying to convince yourself that taking that leap with Bucky would be the worst thing in the world.

"Peanut, I'll sell the damn bar before someone other than you tells me that I can't date you."

Your eyes meet his and all you can see is the adoration and sincerity in them. His thumb is still working over your knuckles, but it's also expanded to tracing aimless circles into the back of your hand. The cool metal is the only way you've grounded yourself to reality.

A slow smile spreads across your features, the first of its kind tonight and you both know what it means.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bartender!bucky #bartender!bucky x reader #bartender!bucky barnes x reader #seb stan #sebastian stan #sebastian stan character #seb stan character #seb stan x reader #sebastian stan x reader #bartender!bucky x you #bartender!bucky x peanut!reader

[loveluvrs]

the slip up l lando norris x reader

request/summary – lando and reader are in a secret established relationship, until lando accidentally slips up on stream

author's notes – first piece of writing, feedback appreciated!!! this is just my thoughts written down honestly, i didn’t have much idea where i was going with it so enjoy.

Max was streaming with Lando at his place. Lando drags his feet over to the stream room, sitting on a chair next to Max. He was scrolling on his phone, trying to pass the time. 

“Mate, I’m gonna leave, you’re being so boring,” Lando joked under his breath as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“I’ll make things more interesting then. Chat, wanna know something really interesting about Lando?” Max asked with a mischievous smile as he looked back at Lando. Lando watched with suspicion of what max could say next. 

“Lando’s got a secret girlfriend,” Max sings to annoy Lando. Lando’s eyes shot up, his heart pounding as he turned off his phone, the same phone he was using to text you, his girlfriend. “I don’t, chat, don’t listen to him. He’s just trying to piss me off,” Lando says as he shoots Max a glare. 

—————

A few months later, everyone has chalked up that interaction to Max simply trying to annoy and rile up Lando, and no one thought much of it. On a miracle of a night in spring, Lando was in Monaco and decided to stream. He had a hoodie on, his hair all messy, but a smile on his face. About an hour into the stream, I knock on the door of his stream room quietly. Lando immediately turned off his video and mic, telling chat to give him a minute. 

I walk in, a black slip dress on with a cropped white cardigan, my hair and makeup done all fancy. “Hi, baby,” Lando says as he pulls me in by the waist, onto his lap. “Girls night tonight, right?” He says with a soft smile. He always makes sure to pay attention to anything I’ve mentioned to him, including my plans to hang out with Lily and Carmen tonight, Alex and George’s girlfriends. 

I hum in response. “Yeah, we’re gonna get dinner and then take some Instagram photos,” I say as I stand up from his lap, “you like the dress? It’s new.” I give him a little twirl to show off the dress. 

Lando smiles brightly. “I love it, baby, you look gorgeous. Like always,” he says as he leans in for a kiss. “Text me when you’re done and need me to pick you up, yeah?” I nod and smile. 

Once I leave, Lando puts his headset back on, turning his mic and camera back on. He scrunches up his face as he’s met by shouting from Max into his headset. “What’s your problem, man?” Lando asks with confusion. Max sighs. “Lando, you had your mic on the whole time. People heard that whole conversation and I was trying to tell you but as always, you ignored me,” Max says with some frustration in his voice, but mostly amusement. 

“Oh,” Lando says as he realizes what has happened. Not knowing what to do, Lando panics and ends stream. 

When my friends and I reach the restaurant, we find it pouring rain, which was the most of our worries since the restaurant was outdoor. With frowns, we all pile back into the car and drive ourselves home. I arrive home only twenty minutes after I left, my dress soaked. My brows furrow in confusion to see Lando on the couch on his phone when i come back, and not on stream. 

I slip off my shoes. “I thought you were streaming?” I ask softly as I make my way over to him. “What happened to you? You’re all soaked! Here, let me get you a towel and you can get dressed into some of my hoodie and sweats to get comfy,” Lando says, trying to avoid the fact that he had just live streamed his whole conversation with his girlfriend. 

I saw the panic in Lando’s eyes. “Stop,” I say as I stood in front of him, “what did you do?” Lando shoots me a bright grin. “I love you, babe. So so much. And you know I’d do anything for you.” This made me even more suspicious. “Lan,” I say as my eyes narrowed.

“Okay, okay. I might have forgotten to mute my mic when we were talking right before you left. I swear I thought I had turned it off!” He says as he panics before beginning to ramble. “And I called you baby, and gorgeous, and your voice was heard too. And Max was telling me the whole time through my headset, but it was off and even if it were on, you know I don’t think about anything else when I’m with you. And there were thousands of people on the stream and you specifically told me you wanted to keep it private because you didn’t want to get hate crimed by the fans and you wouldn’t be able to handle it and I mean, I wanted to but it just slipped and im so so sorry but-“ He stops in confusion when a giggle escapes my lips. “Why aren’t you upset?” He asks slowly.

I smile as I slip my arms around his neck, his hands instinctively wrapping around my waist. “Well. Number one, you’re cute when you panic. Number two, no one saw me, so it’s okay. I mean, considering how in love you are with me, they were bound to find out at some point that you had a girlfriend,” I tease with a smile tugging at my lips. 

He scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully at me. “Okay, yeah. I am absolutely in love with you. Still, you’re not bothered by this?” he asks slowly, hesitation lacing his voice.

“I promise I’m not. It was a mistake. Plus, that just means it’s gonna be all the more fun trying to watch them figure out who it is you’re dating,” I say playfully with a giggle. 

“That’s true,” Lando says softly with a hum, “I love you.”

“I love you too. Although, don’t make me have to have you on adult supervision every time you stream now to make sure nothing else slips out of your mouth,” I tease as I playfully poke his side. 

“Ah! Okay okay, promise,” he says with a giggle as he leans in for a gentle and loving kiss.

#lando norris x reader #lando norris imagines #lando norris oneshot #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

[pixiesndberries]

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃, 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 —

a small series of Jujutsu Kaisen men as your husband !

☆ OUR STARS : Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Choso Kamo, Aoi Todo, Toji Fushiguro, and more !

━ REQUESTED BY : none

━⁠ WARNINGS : none

ෆ PIXIE'S NOTE ! : heya pookies I know it's been a while 🙏🏻 but here I am creating another series to pay off the days I wasn't posting so much —⁠ forgive me my pookies 🏃🏻‍♀️💨 we have holiday break so I'm going to grind a lot 😝

NANAMI KENTO, as your husband !

• Nanami is the perfect standard for male wife, argue with the wall —⁠ this man knows how to cook, clean his home, does his own laundry, and mostly basic life skills that most men barely know which is pretty much a big turn on.

Nanami who always supports your decision as long as it doesn't have any bad effects in your life, he respects you a lot to whatever you do in your life —⁠ he thinks that just because you are married it doesn't mean he have full possession on you, though sometimes when you asked for his opinions about your decisions in such situations he isn't shy of what he thinks.

Nanami the type of husband who will always do small and big things for you even though you can do it yourself —⁠ carrying groceries for you, helping you in the kitchen, sending you to your work, helps you clean the house, and goes to the mall with you.

; he surprisingly took the shopping bags form your hands gently "your hands will get numb, this is pretty heavy." he says with his usual tone as he looks at you softly, you can't help but to smile in his small little gestures and gosh it's making her heart melt.

"thank you, kento." you say as you gave him a big smile and pressed a kiss on his cheeks making him grin.

Nanami who is being a worrywart when you don't reply quickly when you're out with your friends late night —⁠

; kento | sent a message.

10:24 pm

kento : just got home love ❤️

kento : what time are you going home?

11:04 pm

kento : love, tell me when you're going home I'll pick you up ❤️

kento : is everything going alright?

kento : kind of worried, hope you respond soon 😅

11:07 pm

kento : please reach out to me when you can so I can pick you up ☺️

kento : I'm worried 😢

you : love I'm fine sorry, we we're drinking just a tiny bit 😭

you : you can pick me up now 🏃🏻‍♀️💨

Nanami the type of husband to use cringe emojis but you appreciate it anyways, he barely use his phone or try to use emojis —⁠ headcanon : he learned using emojis from yuji or gojo 🙏🏻 you find it silly and cute anyways.

Nanami who's phone is always filled with your photos and some sceneries with you in it —⁠ he doesn't like taking photos of himself that much though, he loves taking photos of you and look through it when he's not busy or when he misses you and he's at work.

Nanami when he learned how to use Instagram and he can't stop posting you —⁠ Gojo probably tried influencing him to use social media once and he was like no??? not until one time you took a photo of him during one of your dates and you asked him, "hey can I post this?" and of course he said yes and after that you kept posting him at some times which led him to the idea of posting you as well since he thinks you deserve it too.

; nanami.kento1990

tagged : @y/n.igcom | ❤️

itaaa.yuji and 13 others liked this post.

gojosatoru | he knows how to use Instagram 😦 ???

gojosatoru | WHO TAUGHT YOU ⁉️

itaaa.yuji | first post !!

nobaraaaa | parents 🙏🏻

Nanami who is nervous to talk about the future he wants with you — not totally nervous it's more like when you talked about kids you wanted soon with him he will always be like, "sure I also thought about that." with his usual tone but deep inside talking about it was his hyper fixation and he can't stop thinking about it.

Nanami who never in his life forget about giving you flowers in small or big occasions —⁠

; "happy mother's day." he says softly with a grin in his face as he hands you a bouquet of your favourite flowers, "kento, I'm not a mother yet." you laugh as you take the bouquet from him, admiring the flowers for a second. He never fails to make you feel happy, "maybe soon?" he chuckles then makes his way to give you a hug. "sure." you laughed and happily hugged him back tightly, exchanging I love you.

Nanami who never left by your side especially when you are not okay, he will leave his work for a day or even weeks if you really need him by your side —⁠ he will never get tired of comforting you; if you need a shoulder to cry on? He's there. He can stay all day in bed with you to make you feel better —⁠ take you out in a vacation if that's what you really need or probably do every house chores just to make you rest.

─ REBLOGS, LIKES, AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED FEEL FREE TO REQUEST!

#nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #jjk nanami #nanami angst #nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #jujutsu nanami #nanami smut #nanami kento angst #nanami kento smut #jujutsu kaisen smau #jjk smau #gojo x reader #choso x reader #geto x reader #jjk men #toji fushiguro #aoi todo

[diejager]

random thought but… stepdad!König fucking reader after finding out they wanna be in a relationship with him and saying “I’m going to marry you” or “I’ll make you mine one day” or smth like that. 🤭 and dbf!Horangi just kinda agreeing with him while sandwiching reader from the back, already having an idea of being the husband’s best friend that fucks his wifey 💝💝💝

—🎀—

Gah- that pink bow has my heart😵‍💫 cw: smut, STEPCEST, DUB-CON, creampie, sex marathon?, phone sex? Double penetration, p in v, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, cheating, marriage, tell me if I missed any.

For a second, he forgot how to breathe, his knees weak and fingers twitching, his cheeks flushed with the joy he felt. Your little confession riled him up, your sweet tears and pout gave him the hardest erection he’d ever lived. Sweet, innocent words that would’ve seemed blasphemous to any other, sounded erotic, making his blood boil and arousal simmer under his skin. It worked through his body with tight and rushing pleasure, pumping blood down to his engorged cock and heavy balls.

“I want you,” sealed the deal, commanding his body to pound you into your bed, make you forget you ever had a life without him - he promised it.

And promised he did, he fucked you all day, pressing you down on your bed, folding you in half as keened loudly. The bed creaked and the wooden headboard slamming into the wall behind it with every rock of his hips, fingers gripping your soft bedsheets and toes curling over his shoulder. You were stuck beneath him until the time he knew your mother would be back, taking every moment he had to watch his cock push in you and back out with a ring of cum and slick around his thick cock.

At first, he took you alone, slamming into your while you mewled out, your sweet sounds reaching the hungry ears of your neighbour on the phone. König had called Horangi in a blur, his mirth infectious, making Horangi happy, chuckling out praises to you and giving his word that he’d come by after his exercise at the gym. Your stepdad kept his friend on the phone, the Korean wearing EarPods during his whole course, working out with his cock throbbing and pushing against his shorts.

An hour in, waking up after you passed out in pleasure, eyes rolled to the back of your head in white pleasure, Horangi made himself home, naked and kneeling between your thighs. You let out a surprised moan, back arching when he drove his tongue inside your twitching hole, his thumb rolling your sensitive clit. He took his take taking you apart, watching you flay and cream all over him, covering is face with slick.

Near delirious and body oversensitive, you felt them push into you, softly alternating between both cocks stuffing your stretched cunt. You were trapped between them, body pushed back and fourth, feeling them fill you up, bottoming out, balls slapping the other man, pulling out to the tip and slamming back in. You bucked your hips, chasing their cocks, nails digging into Horangi’s shoulder, gasping and moaning with your legs spread open by König’s hands.

“I’ll marry you, ja, Schatz?” König growled, pumping you full of cum, womb stuffed full with his and Horangi’s charged load. “Breed you and make you mine.”

“Fuck, I can’t wait to suck your tits,” Horangi couldn’t stop himself from agreeing, mind conjuring every image of your swollen stomach and wobbling walk. “Drink your sweet milk.”

“Do you want that, Schnucki?”

All you could do was nod, throat sore from screaming and body limp in your stepfather’s arms, your eyes were heavy chest puffing with loud, exhausted breaths. You liked their idea, marrying, breeding, becoming theirs, perhaps their delusions finally got to you.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly

#x reader #cod mw2 #tw: cheating #tw: dubcon #tw: stepcest #stepdad!konig #Stepdad!könig #Dbf!horangi #Mw2 smut #cod smut #horangi x reader #horangi mw2 #kim horangi hong jin #horangi smut #horangi x you #konig smut #König smut #konig x reader smut #könig x reader smut #könig x reader #konig mw2 #könig mw2 #konig