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#< all real things I’ve heard people say
princessbrunette · 4 hours
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omg princess. I’m guessing you’ve probably done something similar already so I completely get if you don’t wanna write this out !! but like..
gooner!rafe convincing reader to do anal and being all casual about it like “nah I’ve done that before, trust me it doesn’t hurt that bad” and even though he does probably have experience with it he’s just so fucking impatient
like it just ends up with him holding you in place after minimal prep n the only proper stimulation you get is his balls repeatedly smacking your clit </3 while he’s just groaning the nastiest things ever into your ear
- ⛸️ anon (unless that’s already been taken ! )
⊹ ₊ ˚ 🎀 𓂃 ⸝⸝ ♡
he knew it was fucked up to say, hell he’d probably get ‘cancelled’ or whatever it was people were talking about these days if they’d heard him say it — but he liked the little pained noises you made. the way you buckled down, bit the pillow, whimpered — all just so you could please him. he had you wrapped round his finger, clearly.
his impatience was a flaw, he was aware. the lack of prep time causing you to gasp and clench around his cock when he pushed it deeper into your ass, lips parted and cheeks red as he stares down at it— spreading your ass cheeks for the best view. he’d had the decency to lube it up down there, and you were no stranger to him shoving his thumb in your butt during backshots — but this was intense.
you take what you can get, the way he taught you — arching deeper but only so you can catch his balls slapping your clit from a better angle— letting out little whines whilst he squats over you and uses you like a little sex doll.
“ohhh!” you cry and his eyes nearly roll back at the sound.
“yeah? got a fuckin’… tight little ass, don’t you? bein’ a real good slut today huh? letting me take what i want?”
you can’t answer, you can hardly breathe. as painful as it was it did feel good — whether that was from the physical sensation, or the fact that you hadn’t disappointed him, you wasn’t sure. through your tears, you smile.
⊹ ₊ ˚ 🎀 𓂃 ⸝⸝ ♡
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wbswag · 2 days
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Things I want to talk about/touch upon/see people mention more but cannot compile individual coherent posts about:
1. The fact Pops’ daughter apparently had a “falling out” with Pops (over her marriage??) that caused her to completely abandon the yakuza and maybe also cut contact with Pops (the dude is suspicious guys)
2. The fact that in the Overhaul-LOV initial meeting, Chisaki had to have intentionally chosen not to kill Mr. Compress.
3. The idea that many of Chisaki’s thought processes at least partially stem from his time in AFO’s facility. And of course, Pops.
4. How much Chisaki seems to lack a proper reaction to any sort of pain (He was beat to a pulp by Mirio & Midoriya, exploded himself, & got his arms cut off and I’ve never heard him so much as yelp) while still complaining about how overhauling himself hurts?? Yet he doesn’t show it.
5. (Highway scene) How Chisaki only screamed once the realization he wouldn’t be able to ever wake up Pops sunk in (isn’t confirmed but. I’m convinced).
6. The fact that there’s absolutely no way Chisaki wasn’t negatively impacted by being raised in the Yakuza. It’s simply inherent.
7. The blatant disregard Pops had to have had for both Chisaki and Eri’s well-beings to have designated Chisaki as her caretaker.
8. The endless amounts of potential for Chisaki & Dabi/Touya dynamics post-war, platonic or otherwise. (Multiple fics with this premise in my WIPs, lol)
9. The fact Chisaki seems practically incapable of holding a grudge. Like, think about it; is there a character you can say Chisaki genuinely, wholeheartedly hates and wishes the worst upon. You know what—what IS his opinion on Shigaraki/the LOV these days??
10. Realizing that in the initial Overhaul-LOV meeting, Chisaki literally just tone-matched them. Look:
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Mr Compress says all that, and then Chisaki later explains:
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Which, once you break down what Mr Compress said/how he said it, and what Chisaki said/how he said it… blunt statement of facts. Mr Compress told Toga how faded out the Yakuza have become with no sugarcoating, and Chisaki took that and said. “Well. Yeah.” But then when Chisaki did the same thing (blunt but true & valid criticisms of the LOV/Shigaraki’s leading skills (bc let’s be real, he was an ass leader at the time in terms of actual planning and execution)), the LOV got pissed. He pointed out all the relevant flaws and mistakes in Shigaraki’s leadership and then said it’d be better if he was the leader because he actually has a plan, and they got pissed at the mere prospect of serving under somebody else. Do you realize how much the story would’ve been altered if the LOV didn’t decide to just start attacking Chisaki here?? 💀 Sorry I’m exceptionally passionate about this bc the fandom gaslit me for a while into believing Chisaki was the one starting shit here 😔 but then I read it (a long time after I'd watched it in the anime) and was like. "what. he didn't initiate literally any of this shit. and everything he's saying is true??"
There’s probably more I could add to this but it’s getting long enough lol.
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x-ladydisdain-x · 2 months
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My biggest pet peeve is people who brag about being bad cat owners like it’s funny
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6ebe · 2 years
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f1 fans are so funny they’ll be like MY driver has this red flag and this red flag and this red flag and he has bad right wing politics avoids tax cheats on his partners is an open misogynist his gf is 10 years younger than him and a teenager he doesn’t believe in covid but it’s ok he’s my baby boy <3
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Do you ever listen to someone speak and marvel at how smooth, free-flowing, and free of pauses it is?
Because I sure do. I can’t do that.
Maybe that’s why I feel like most people’s speech is insincere even when it isn’t… because it sounds like how I would recite or read a script. That explains why I view people who aren’t native English speakers, have a heavy accent, and take long pauses to think of the words they need to say as being more trustworthy… because my cadence is similar to theirs; and we both stumble over words.
#I feel like that little kid “If you ever had a dream where— you want— you wish— if you could— you want….”#I’m not that bad; but I come very close to sounding like that sometimes LOL#I feel like I spoke more smoothly as a little kid…#but that’s probably because my verbal communication is almost at the same level it was at when I was eight years old#Like those people who have a growth spurt but end up being on the short side as adults because they stop growing immediately after#I figuratively shot up to 5’0” in third grade and never grew past that point#(with regard to clarity and flow specifically; not vocabulary… my vocabulary has definitely grown a LOT#but that’s only because I get sick of writing or talking in the same way for longer than a year… which is why I currently sound#like a pretentious 20th century englishman whenever I write fiction)#I have no “real” vernacular because I don’t feel comfortable with having a personal vernacular…#because using the same patterns of words over and over again for the same situations counts as para-scripting and feels fake#(to me)#sometimes I hear someone use a new word I’ve never heard in conversation; and I say “Cool! I’ll use that word myself.” But I later realize#it’s not just a fun one-time usage of a word; but it’s a catchphrase they say all the time and forsake any common synonyms of the word#— I assume — solely for the purpose of sounding smart to others (their behavior usually justifies my assumption; because these people#act like they’re better than everyone else)#And sometimes I catch myself doing the same thing; and I switch to a different word or format than I’ve been using; out of nothing#but embarrassment and twisted perfectionism#Or sometimes I come off the high of using lofty words and want to speak in a more commonplace way#and after awhile of that I start thinking “Wait a minute wait a minute…. Now I’m just trying to sound cool and normal.#This isn’t how I talk.”#But the truth is I really feel spoken language is an insufficient medium for communication.#I want a language in which the speakers pry open each others’ chests#rip out each others’ hearts; and rub them together#But at the same time it kills me that I cannot do the same amount of tonal shapeshifting when speaking#especially when my default (socially-acceptable) speaking voice sounds extremely airheaded#I’ve been trying to use larger words and more archaic sentence structures in speech lately and it feels good#but also like I’m trying to show off (even though I’m not and that’s just how I’d prefer to speak)#even then… all my speech patterns are copied from somewhere#It’s been a years-long identity crisis and I want it to end
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saetoru · 8 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ speak of the devil
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synopsis. satoru and his father don’t quite get along—you don’t think it would help that case if his father walked in on you fucking on his desk right now, but satoru doesn’t seem to care at all
FIVE PLACES RB! GOJO SHOULDN’T FUCK YOU SERIES
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length. 3.4k words (why did it take all day sobs)
contents. fem! reader, minors do not interact, college au, rich boy! gojo, as always it’s shameless satoru, you sit on satoru’s lap, brief fingering, dry humping, desk sex <3, clothed sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, perfect girl)
notes. to everyone who kept asking when i was gonna update this series: here it is. now don’t ask again <3
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the one time you decide to surprise satoru with a visit is the one time he’s nowhere to be found—it takes you ten minutes and the help of two maids to finally find satoru in his house. as it turns out, he’s in his father’s office—the only room you’ve never been in yet.
“hey,” you murmur, “been looking for you everywhere. way to ruin my surprise.”
“baby!” he grins, perking up from his spot at the chair, setting the pen in his hand down. “you came all the way here to surprise me? you must love me so much. and think i’m hot too, right? and funny? and smart? and—”
“i’m leaving,” you tease, rolling your eyes. and then you notice the papers in front of him, peeking over his shoulder as you read over them. you understand nothing. “what’s this?”
“paperwork,” he grumbles, “old man says i have to start being more responsible for stuff if i’m gonna take over someday. what a geezer.”
you snort—satoru never runs out of insults for his father. normally, you wouldn’t encourage his comments, but….well, his father deserves them. quite a bit, in fact.
“my poor businessman,” you say sympathetically, smoothing back hair from his forehead as you cup his face. he pouts, leaning into your touch as you rub over the swell of his cheek with your thumb. “you deserve a break.”
“i know,” he whines, “i’ve been doing these for like an hour. i could’ve been playing video games with suguru. or fucking you.”
“satoru!” you gasp, pressing a hand over his lips as you eye the door and listen for any signs of anyone nearby. you turn to him and hiss, “you have too many people wandering your house for you to say that so loud.”
“not like they’ve never heard us before,” he shrugs.
well, that’s satoru for you—as shameless as ever. not only has he probably traumatized the poor maids with his insatiable horniness, but he’s not even got the tact to at least seem embarrassed. not even slightly ashamed. you scoff, shaking your head as he grins up at you cheekily.
“you’re a real case, you know that?” you say in disbelief, “i think the only surface you haven’t fucked me on is your parent’s bed. and that’s only because you love your mom enough not to do that.”
“if it was just the old man’s, i’d have fucked you on that too,” he snickers. and then he hums thoughtfully, “actually, i think i have fucked you everywhere. it’s like a bucket list.”
“satoru, you’re sick in the head.”
“the showers, the guest rooms, the kitchen, the living room, the movie room, my room, of course—oh, the game room too. and we can’t forget the backyard and the pool either. i think we got it all—wait.”
he sounds serious. you look at him with furrowed brows as you tilt your head. “what?”
“we didn’t get this room.”
oh god. he’s absolutely ridiculous—and not only that but a complete idiot, too. not only do satoru and his father not get along, but his father couldn’t disapprove of you any more than he already does. the last thing you both need is for him to walk in on his son fucking the girl he probably wants to hire a hitman to assassinate.
“oh my god,” you say exasperatedly, “toru, have you not one ounce of shame? you can’t possibly think—”
“why didn’t i think of this sooner?” he wonders out loud—and oh no. satoru has that look in his eyes, the one that’s locked in on something he wants. the spoiled side of him isn’t going to let this go. the weak part of you is probably going to have a hard time fighting him.
the unwise part of both of you will probably get you both into a whole lot of trouble.
“because it’s a bad idea. you’re a smart guy, toru,” you try to butter him up—it doesn’t seem to do much, though. “the smartest. so, so genius and intelligent, so you know this is a terrible idea, so let’s just drop it—”
“i should’ve done this way sooner,” he chuckles, looking at you in awe, “bend you right over this desk and fuck you over that fossil’s papers.”
his words are so shameless and so, so wrong. but for some odd reason, your clit aches a little at that.
“no, absolutely not—”
“can you imagine? he’s signing papers right where i had you drooling for me? he’d be so mad if he knew,” satoru cackles.
god—this should not be as appealing as it sounds. you try to throw on your best stern look, but satoru is as smart as he is sly. he can see the way you shift on your feet as he smirks up at you, and he’s already got that determined look in his eye that you know well enough.
it’s the same look he has when he decides he’s hungry—for you, that is. the same look that paints his face as he eyes you like you’re his next meal. the same look that tells you he wants you—and he’ll stop at nothing to have you.
and….well, you’ve never been good at saying no to satoru. it’s your fatal flaw.
“satoru, we should definitely not be doing any of that in here, and we definitely should not be risking making your dad—who hates that we’re dating, by the way—any more angry with us than he already is—”
“sweetheart,” he chuckles, pulling you by the wrist to fall onto his lap, “you worry too much, y’know that? i should fix that. fuck you dumb over this desk so you don’t overthink in that pretty little head you have.”
you glare at him, but he’s already got you straddling his hips, arms looped around your waist as he kisses your jaw with a hum. he’s already hard from what you can feel—the bulge pressing against your heat is hard to miss. 
“satoru—”
“save the part where you say my name for later. i haven’t even done anything yet,” he winks—and then he’s kissing you. he’s clever, you think, because kissing you is the fastest way to get you to melt against him, arms wrapping around his neck as he pulls you closer. 
so close, in fact, that you can feel his cock practically twitch in his pants as you shift on top of him, dragging your clothed cunt over his aching bulge.
“this is such a bad idea, toru,” you whisper in between kisses—but not one part of you fights his touch or even attempts to pull away. he hums, pressing wet kisses along your jaw as his hands dig into your hips, moving you to grind along his hardened length. 
“yeah? you sure? let’s check, shall we?” he raises a brow, hand slipping past the waistband of your pants and brushing past your folds—wet. dripping and messy and needy, just how your pussy always seems to be when you’re with him. he grins in satisfaction and throws you that knowing look as he mumbles, “sorry, baby. this pretty little pussy of yours disagrees.”
“toru,” you gasp as he toys with your clit, rubbing slow enough circles that you whine and roll your hips, trying to get more. but satoru is a brat—always has been, right from the day he was born. he pulls his fingers away and looks at you smugly as he kisses your curled lips while you frown at him.
“want more, don’t ya?” he asks—he’s too cocky for his own good sometimes. too ridiculous and annoying and troublesome, but you’re aching to feel something, anything. preferably him, so you nod. 
“just hurry up,” you huff. your hips push against him, dragging your cunt over his cock—it’s throbbing in his pants, confined under the fabric and needy for the tightness of your walls. you gasp when he rubs against your clit, and he groans, guiding your movements with a tight grip on your hips. 
“fuck, sweetheart,” he rasps, “c-could cum jus’ like this. see what you do to me?”
“‘s not me,” you tilt your head as he nips at your neck, hand trailing to cup the back of his head and keep him in place as he nibbles at the skin and pecks along the marks he leaves, “this is all your fault.”
“all my fault, huh?” he chuckles, “you make it sound like this is a bad thing.”
his hips buck up, rolling against yours and building the friction up until your both panting messes, his lips against yours as you drink in each other’s moans—your clit rubs along his length with every stutter of your hips, and his tip leaks with more pre cum every time you press harder against his cock. it’s desperate—the way he chokes on your name and the way you cling around his neck. it feels good, and the way this is all so wrong only makes it feel better. 
“‘m close, toru,” you mewl, whining as his hand slides under your shirt to massage your tit, his eyes trained on you as he hums.
“good,” he grins, eyes dark and glinting with a sick satisfaction you don’t think you’ve ever seen on him before, “cum for me, sweetheart. right here—right on this chair,” he says lowly. 
so you do—head falling back with a sharp gasp and your nails digging into his shoulder as you come undone with a loud whine. the gojo estate is big—very big. you’re sure your voice isn’t carrying through even a fraction of the place, but still, you can’t help but clamp a hand over your mouth in case anyone is nearby. 
satoru doesn’t like that, though—his hand rips yours off as he ruts his hips upwards faster, harder, pressing against you closer. “no, baby,” he chuckles, cutting himself off with a breathy moan when you press harder against his cock, “make sure you let me hear how good you feel. feels good, huh?”
“yes,” you whimper, “yes, feels so good—need more, toru. please,” you pout, looking up at him with lust-blown eyes. 
“here?” he mocks, raising a brow, “you want me to fuck you right here? in my father’s office? where he does his work? right on his desk?”
“yes, here,” you sob, “right here—please. want you so bad. need it.”
“see?” he laughs, “now you’re getting it—not so much of a bad idea, is it?”
that’s the thing about satoru—he’s too used to hearing what he wants. being told what he likes to hear. getting what he asks for. you say no, and he’s determined to change it to a yes. but yes is never enough—it’s more. always more, more, more. it’s like all rich people, you suppose. 
they just always want more.
there’s a small, reasonable voice in your head that tells you this is a bad idea. a disrespectful one, even. sure, satoru’s father has never been kind to you, let alone polite. he looks at you like you’re an eyesore, and he’s certainly said less than appropriate things about your upbringing. but that doesn’t mean you have to stoop to his level of low and do something equally as spiteful, if not more…but you’re only human. and satoru always just fucks you so well, and cumming around nothing just isn’t enough, and…well, you think it’s just karma. 
the way the world works. 
the way you and satoru work. 
so you grin, huff out a little snort before pulling him into a kiss and reaching to free his hard, leaky cock from its confinements. he whines a little into your mouth as you smear the arousal coating his tip along his length, stroking down and squeezing at the base. 
“okay,” you whisper against his lips, “fuck me toru. right here—right on his desk.”
that, evidently, is all it takes—one second you’re comfortably sitting on his legs, pants soaked with his bulge pressed against your core, and the next second you hear his hand swipe papers off the surface to fall to the floor as your back is pressed against the cool wood. he doesn’t even bother with your clothes, just tugs both of your pants down your thighs that it’s enough. satoru has always been impatient too—doesn’t like to wait for anything when he can take it when he wants. 
you can feel him close, hovering over you. he’s warm—where his cock presses against your thigh, where his breath fans over your lips, where his hands grab your wrists and pin them over your head. he’s warm, and your head spins, and you need him filling you to the brim right now.
“anything you want, you get, sweetheart,” he murmurs, grinning sickeningly sweet, “can’t say no to my baby. what kind of boyfriend would i be?” you feel him bump his tip against your clit, making you gasp before he drags the head of his cock along your folds—they’re wet and slick from your arousal, coating his tip before he’s slowly pushing in. you gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck as he groans lowly. “can never get used to this,” he breathes, “never get used to this pussy. just takes me so well. fit in like i was made just to fuck you.”
“toru, t-toru—oh,” you squeal when he slides the rest of his length to fill you, buried to the hilt as your walls flutter around him. it’s nothing new, but it’s never something you’re prepared for all the same. how thick he is, how perfectly he hits that spot in the back of your walls, how full he makes you feel. it makes your legs wrap around his waist and pull him forward, closer, deeper. “more, toru—move, please.”
“nuh uh,” he drawls, kissing your cheeks, “first you gotta tell me how much you love me.”
“satoru,” you hiss in disbelief, “are you kidding—”
“c’mon, say it,” he giggles, “love you, toru. love how you fuck me so good everywhere in your house and make me feel like a princess. you’re the best boyfriend ever and i’ll die without your cock—”
“i love you toru,” you smile sweetly, “you know what i love more, though? when you’re too busy making pretty sounds for me instead of talking so much.”
that makes him shudder—makes him curse under his breath as your walls flutter impatiently around him. he’s aching—hot and swollen in your dripping cunt, balls heavy with cum that he needs to empty into your pussy because it was made to take him. every inch of him.
“you’re gonna be the death of me,” he breathes out shakily, “know that? gonna kill me one of these days.”
“good,” you hum before rolling your hips and making his breath hitch, “now move, baby. wanna feel you.” 
he does—pulls his hips back so that he’s just almost pulled out completely before he slams back into you, pressing against your sweet spot with his tip in the way only satoru knows how. only he knows you this well, only he knows your body so well. he knows where to kiss and hold and touch to make your eyes flutter shut, and your mouth fall open, wanton moans falling past your lips without a care in the world who can hear. 
“so tight, baby,” he whines, “god you’re so perfect—my perfect girl.”
“so full,” you gasp, clawing at his shoulders, pulling at his hair, pulling him closer and closer and closer until not even air can fill the space between you. “feel so good, toru—fuck.”
“look at you,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, “‘s a shame you can’t see what i see. then you’d know why i can’t keep my hands off’a you—’s impossible.”
you can’t speak—all you can offer him as he’s bullying his thick girth into you is a pathetic whine as his veins drag along your walls, as his navel bumps along your clit and has your head thrown back against the table. there’s slick smeared along your inner thigh, the wet sound of his cock fucking into you ringing in your ears along with his deep groans as he pants harshly against your ear. you can feel his breath against your skin, can feel the goosebumps and the flutter of your walls every time he makes a pretty little sound for you as you squeeze around him. 
“love you, toru,” you mewl—you can’t help but say it, can’t help but remind him when he pushes into you like he was always meant to fit right there, like he was always meant to feel you as you feel him too. and if his rotten, greedy, stuck-up father with a receding hairline can’t see that you love satoru, maybe you’ll just have to fuck him right where he can find you just to drill the image into his mind. 
“love you too,” he says between moans, face digging into your neck as your hand cradles the back of his head, keeping him right there, keeping him close against you like he should never be anywhere else, “love my perfect, perfect girl. feel me? feel what you do to me?”
you nod between sharp gasps and soft cries of his name—he looks down at you in wonder, at the way your lips look when they murmur that sweet little cry of toru!, at the way your pussy sucks him in and hugs too tightly around him, at the way you look so good with the slight sheen of sweat on your face. 
his hips roll, a little sloppy in rhythm now, but still just as hard and deep as before. he can sense it—the way you’re just about to fall apart on his cock, just like you always do. so he presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing harsh circles that make you cling to him tighter as you cry out another sweet string of toru, toru—more!
“you close, sweetheart? gonna cum for me? ‘m close—gonna fill you up. want that, don’t you?”
“yeah,” you breathe, kissing him with hot, open-mouthed kisses that he returns, “yeah i wan’ you to fill me up, toru—gonna cum. ‘m so close—f-fuck, so close, baby.”
you know he is too, the way his cock twitches and the way his hips are desperate in the way they roll into you tells you he’s just as close to falling apart as you are. you push your hips up to meet his thrusts, pushing him impossibly deeper into your cunt before you feel the coil snap as you cum—hard. your walls flutter around him, spasming and squeezing around him that his bottom lip is tugged between his teeth as he inhales sharply.
“f-fuck, baby—’m gonna…” he doesn’t get to finish before you feel his cock twitch and the first drop of cum fills you. it’s hot and thick, every rope he fucks into you, leaking past his tip and painting your walls white. you can feel the mess he makes—can feel the drops leak and smear along your inner thighs as he slams into you with choked whines of your name. “g-good—’s so good, you feel so good,” he says breathlessly, face digging deeper into the crook of your neck as his arms tremble over you.
the wood is hard against you, makes your back ache slightly—but it’s not nearly as bad as satoru is good. you can’t think of anything else but the way he fucks you both through your highs until your legs are begging to press shut from the oversensitivity. 
it’s silent for a bit once you’ve finished—save for the harsh, labored panting as you both calm down and catch your breaths. satoru is still buried with his nose pressed against your neck, your hand rubbing over his back slowly.
“your maids must hate us,” you mumble, “and if your mother hears? we can never show her our faces again.”
“she’s probably dead to the world and watching her reality shows,” he snorts, “we’ll be fine.”
“well, we should clean up and leave before your dad—”
“oh look, speak of the devil. he’s just in time,” satoru snickers as he cuts you off, looking over at the window as an expensive car drives up to the house, “think we can get these papers organized before he comes up here? maybe we should just leave ‘em to make him mad.”
“you’re crazy,” you say in disbelief. and then— “i think we should leave them there. make them his problem.”
you think you’ve just watched satoru fall in love with you all over again at that.
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i hate this fic but hopefully i come back one week later and reread it and think wow i ate w this. sometimes i do that. but if i don’t: if all of you donate one dollar to my family they can afford my funeral for when i drink bleach
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doberbutts · 1 year
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The thing is that, like most trans men I know, I’m more than willing to discuss my relationship with male privilege and manhood regarding the ways I’ve seen a direct benefit on my life.
I work a woman-dominated, and let’s be real an afab-dominated, job. When a known misogynist client- who has been scolded multiple times for his behavior heckles and hassles the women who work there to the point where multiple coworkers refuse to be in the same room as him- glances at me and then looks away and chooses a different target, I know why. It’s because he saw my beard and my moustache and my generally male appearance and decided that it would be far too gay to engage in that behavior with me.
But if I talk about this relationship, then you also need to listen when I say that exact same client treated me exactly the same way he treats the female staff when I was on the phone with him just a week prior, because he heard my voice and decided for me that I was a woman he was going to treat poorly.
If I talk about this relationship, then you need to listen when I say that people have called the police to report a violent black man was threatening them when all I was doing was existing in an area, an area that I have existed in as a black woman and not had people try to get the police to kill me.
If I talk about this relationship, then you need to listen when I say that I experienced terrible antiblack racism as a direct result of being one of three black girls in my entire school system, and that it did not magically get better the moment I realized I was transgender at 13 nor did the misogynistic part of the abuse suddenly stop affecting me or my mental health.
If I talk about this relationship, you need to listen when I say that being pulled over by the police due to a broken headlight takes a very different tone now that I am largely passing in my day-to-day life, and what used to be “let off with a warning” has now become “tickets and points”.
And if you are not ready to listen, then I am not willing to have this discussion, because by focusing only on one part of the equation you ignore the entire rest of my existence.
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daloy-politsey · 2 years
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“They’re trying to discharge her constructively. Do you know what Constructive Discharge means?” She asked.
As soon as I heard the term ‘Constructive Discharge,’ I knew I’d never seen it on a vocabulary quiz.
“No. What does it mean?” I asked.
She explained.
“Constructive discharge is a fancy way of saying “being forced out.” It’s not good. And if you’re not a lawyer or in human resources, you’ll probably learn what it means when it’s happening to you.”
“Oh my God. I’ve seen this my entire career and never knew it even had a name.” I thought.
You’ve seen constructive Discharge too. You may have experienced it. We’ve all made choices to avoid it.
Constructive discharge defined
“We can’t fire you, but we’ll make you so miserable you’ll quit, and then we won’t have to pay your unemployment.”
Then there’s the textbook definition:
“A constructive discharge occurs when your employer has made working conditions unbearable, forcing you to resign.”
Or as one person put it.
“I didn’t get handed a pink slip, but when you’re not wanted, people have a way of letting you know.”
HR isn’t always the secret police.
Employees aren’t always victims of evil-doers.
However, employers push employees out all the time to maintain and protect the, “We didn’t do anything wrong, YOU did,” power structure.
Constructive Discharge looks like this:
— Meeting invitations slow to a trickle, and you’re excluded from emails and generally looped out of what’s going on.
— People stop talking to you or stop talking when you walk in.
— Your emails don’t get answers, or they arrive too late to be of value.
— Suddenly, your work is not good enough, though nothing about your work has changed.
— Reviews, once good or even glowing, are now mediocre or bad.
— Instead of a bonus, you get a Performance Improvement Plan.
— Warnings and write-ups start so they can justify your eventual termination with documentation of your “poor performance”
— Your work, clients, assignments go away, or they overwhelm you with work.
— The words “Set up to fail” were practically invented to describe this scenario.
Constructive Discharge is illegal
It isn’t easy to prove you’re a target, and it’s even more challenging if you don’t even know constructive discharge is a real thing.
If you’ve ever experienced this and don’t fully understand what’s happening to you beyond knowing you’re in the process of being excommunicated, it can be hell. It’s not uncommon for the experience to leave long-lasting scars.
Talk to anyone who’s ever been through it. They’ll tell you.
Knowing constructive discharge exists and how it’s used gives you power to predict what’s coming and to protect yourself.
Seeing the endgame helps you in two ways.
You know what to expect. Having a sense of what’s coming next is enormously empowering. You can go on the offensive and protect yourself. Constructive discharge works to crush your ego, making you feel you did something wrong and deserve this treatment.
Without strategy, you end up being a miserable pawn in your employer’s endgame.
Remember, they’re almost certainly building a case to fire you in the event the hellscape they create for you doesn’t persuade you to quit.
If you’re getting pushed out, and you know what to look for you can prove constructive discharge and you can get unemployment benefits, be released from payback obligations on a signing bonus, and protect your mental health.
You’re not crazy, incompetent, or a failure. This is real and it’s carefully executed to leave you holding the bag and feeling like you did something wrong.
If they force you out, in addition to feeling horrible, you lose your paycheck, benefits health insurance, and possibly owe them money.
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clairenatural · 7 months
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Dean doesn't like the word "boyfriend." He decides this the second time Cas says it–the first time it was new, shiny, exciting. The second time, he fights the urge to cringe.
It's not the "boy" part. It's not. It would have been, for a long time, but he's dug all that shit up and unpacked all the suitcases. They hold hands in public. They kiss goodbye in front of his coworkers at the garage.
It's just–not enough. Not nearly. Jack comes home from hanging out with his friends and fills Dean on the gossip and his boyfriend and her girlfriend and–that's not them. "Boyfriend" feels like a cheap mockery. Like how demons used to tease.
He's heard "partner." He's heard it from Sam, to Eileen, but he doesn't know how he can stomach it. He's said that word too many times. I'm Agent Tyler and this is my partner, Agent Perry. This is my partner, Agent Page. My partner, Agent Stills. All lies. Sam says he likes it, that he's making it mean something real. Besides, Eileen loves it.
Good for them, Dean thinks. It makes his skin crawl.
So he sticks with “boyfriend” and he shrugs off the funny urge to protest every time Cas says it. It makes him happy, and honestly, it’s not like he has an alternative.
It’s a Sunday when he realizes that somehow, Cas does. They’re at the farmer’s market, like Cas is every weekend, but Dean had picked up weekend shifts and missed the past few. Cas is excited the whole way there, telling Dean about how he’d manage to befriend the local honey vendor in his absence, how she’d invited him to a beginner’s apiarist group she helps run. They beeline (heh) to the honey booth as soon as they get there, and the woman--Judith? Janice?--smiles up at them both, hands Cas a jar of honey like she’d been expecting him, and says “Oh, this must be the husband! I’ve heard so much about you.”
Dean stares at Cas. Cas stares at the honey. Judith/Janice stares at both of them, smile fading as the silence goes on a beat too long. 
Dean clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. The husband, that’s me! Ha ha.” Beside him, Cas relaxes, just barely. In front of him, the woman breathes an audible sigh of relief. “Sorry,” Dean shifts. “Just didn’t, um. Realize I was such a hot topic.” 
The smile he gets is almost sympathetic. “Oh, only good things. Here,” she hands him a business card. “You should also come out to our meeting on Wednesday. Lots of people bring their partners.” She leans in, almost conspiratorial. “Beekeeping can be wonderful for couples.”
It’s at this point that Cas clears his throat and finally looks up from the honey in his hand, evidently giving up hope on escaping this conversation. “Thank you, Janet.” (oh. Janet.) “Dean works late on Wednesdays, but I’m very excited to see you all.” He’s pulling out money as he says this, apparently deciding to just go ahead and end the entire interaction. He hands her the bills, grabs Dean’s hand, and is already moving away from the booth by the time Janet calls “See you Wednesday!” after them.
Cas drags him all the way back to the car without stopping for tomatoes, or Sam's carrots, or the free-range eggs that are way too expensive but Cas buys anyway because you can taste when the hen is well cared-for, Dean (whatever that means). They slide into the car, still not talking, and sit in silence for several long seconds. Dean stares at Cas, who stares out the windshield at the parking lot.
"I can explain," Cas speaks, finally, right as Dean was about to open his mouth and say anything to break the silence.
Dean pauses. Can you? Cause I feel like I missed a few chapters, he thinks.
"I don't work late on Wednesdays," he says instead.
"Oh." Now it's Cas staring at Dean, and Dean staring out at the asphalt.
He turns the keys. He drives them home.
Later, making dinner, Dean rolls the word around in his head. Husband. He's making his husband pasta (It's missing the tomatoes. He's made more with less).
Husband doesn't feel like a costume, like an ill-fitting suit and scratchy tie. It doesn't feel like high school gossip, or a monster trying to hit him where it hurts. It settles in warm in his chest.
It's just the two of them that night, and they're eating in the comfortable silence of the bunker until Dean clears his throat and brings it up. "Why does Janet at the farmer's market think we're married?"
Cas pauses, fork of pasta halfway to his mouth. He puts the fork down and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry."
"I'm not mad," Dean hurries to clarify. "It's just that there's usually, uh. Steps, you know. Like a whole....thing."
"I'm aware." Cas sighs. "She assumed, seeing us around - the first time I spoke to her without you, she asked where my husband was. And I..."
"You didn't correct her?"
"...No. I, um." Cas is looking down at his plate again. He picks up the fork, still half-full of pasta, then puts it back down again. "I didn't want to?" He says the end of the sentence like a question but looks back up at Dean and squints just a bit, and Dean knows he's watching for a reaction.
"Uh huh."
"It felt trivial."
"To tell her we're not married?"
"To call you my boyfriend." For the first time, he stumbles over the word.
Dean blinks. "You--" he stops, brain processing too much information to finish that sentence. "Okay." He leans back in his chair. Sighs. Rubs a hand across his eyes and lets it drag down his face. "Okay, listen. I don't like boyfriend either, but we gotta...talk about it."
"We are talking about it. You don't like it either?" Cas leans forward as Dean slumps back, following him across the table.
Dean snorts. "No, man." He shakes his head. "It's been a decade. I've seen you die." Six times. But who's counting.
"I agree." Cas pauses, and then, as if it's the most natural conclusion in the world, "Will you marry me?"
Dean actually laughs at this. "You're asking me that now?"
Cas quirks an eyebrow at him. "I've grown quite fond of calling you my husband at the farmer's market. I'd like to continue."
Dean stares at him in disbelief. It's not how he'd pictured it going, but he also can't think of it going any other way. Slowly, he nods. "Yeah, okay. Let's be husbands."
Across the table, Cas grins at him.
"But we're getting rings," Dean points a finger at him, because something about this is going to be normal.
"If you'd like. Although I already told Janet that you can't wear a ring because of your work at the garage, and I don't wear mine in solidarity."
"Rings," Dean insists, and decides to overlook the rest of that sentence. For now. He stabs his fork into a pile of the pasta. "And let me stop for the damn tomatoes next time."
They get rings and wear them on chains around their necks. Cas puts a beehive on the hill, and there's a small ceremony in the summer - a "vow renewal" to Cas' beekeeping group, who all receive invites attached to little jars of honey. Janet gets the nicest one.
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lovebugism · 4 months
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soooo eddie hears or reads somewhere that birthmarks are where your lover from a past life used to kiss you
and as soon as he gets home he wants to make sure that in this present life r still feel this love and that the birthmarks remain the same until their next life together (ugh so cute 🥺)
i changed this up a wee bit but i hope u like it!! — you and eddie kiss birthmarks on the other for the next life (established relationship, fluff, 0.7k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
Eddie traces shapes on your bare back, a post-sex ritual of sorts. It starts out innocent, usually — tiny hearts and flowers and planets that you try hard to guess. It almost always ends with him signing penises onto your spine and laughing out loud every time you realize.
He’s doing it mindlessly now. Touching you just to touch you. His finger trails up your back, circles over your shoulder blades, and then falls back down again. “Did you know you have a birthmark here?” he wonders, breaking the honeyed silence of his tiny bedroom.
Your brows furrow as he traces some sort of outline between your shoulder and spine. “Do I?” you murmur, muffled into the pillow.
“I think so. It’s really faint.”
“Maybe it’s just dirt,” you joke quietly. You don’t see Eddie pull his hand away to lick his finger, but you feel the wet touch of it when it swipes over your back. “Ew, Eddie!” you shout.
“It’s not dirt,” he confirms, choking back a laugh.
“I’ve ever noticed it, I guess. I don’t think I’ve ever looked that hard back there. Like, ever.”
Eddie scoffs, almost in disbelief. “That’s a shame…” he murmurs. 
His finger is gentle and featherlight as it trails down your bare back, leaving chill bumps in its wake. His hand dips below the sheets covering the bottom half of you. His palm spreads unabashedly over your ass, wide and warm. 
“…’Cause there’s a real nice view back here.”
You lift a heavy hand to swat at the boy beside you. It collides halfheartedly with his shoulder. He laughs again. “What?! I’m talking about the birthmark, babe! It’s cute— I love noticing new things about you.”
“Don’t people say that’s how you died in a past life? Wherever your birthmark is?”
Your tired eyes open to find Eddie’s screwed-up face. “Does that mean someone stabbed me in the ass? In, like, the middle ages or some shit? ‘Cause that’s a fucking gnarly way to go.”
“Better than being stabbed in the back… Literally.”
Eddie settles next to you with a huff. He lays on his stomach and shoves half his face into the pillow next to yours, all but melting into the mattress. He keeps tracing the mark on your back with an absentminded touch, never anything but gentle with you.
“Wanna know what I heard?” he mumbles.
“Hm?”
“I heard that birthmarks are where your lover used to kiss you— you know, in a past life or whatever,” he confesses, like it’s a deeply held secret. Then he shrugs his milky white shoulders. “That’s what my mom used to say, anyway. And that woman was never wrong.”
You smile quietly to yourself. Eddie doesn’t talk about his mom very often. You feel a special privilege to be hearing about her now.
“I believe it,” you hum.
His contented grin blooms into something wider and more boyish. “That means someone might’ve been kissing my ass in a past life.”
“That’s awful,” you grumble with a scrunched nose. “Now, I have to give you a new one.”
“Choose wisely, princess,” Eddie lilts and turns onto his back. He spreads his arms out wide and beams when you lean over him. “My future depends on it.”
You don’t think very long. Maybe a moment or more. You press your lips to his chest, just below the faded tattoo on his pec and right over his beating heart. You smile when you pull away, all giddy like a teenage girl, and lay back down again.
Eddie’s chest sparkles with so much adoration it hurts. He laughs it off anyway. “Alright, cheeseball— It’s my turn.”
“You have to do it in the same place!” you argue in a tiny voice when the boy lays over you. He props his weight on his elbows and entwines his legs with yours. The heavy closeness feels like heaven.
“Why?”
“So we’ll have matching birthmarks! And then, when we’re in the next life or whatever, and we look like totally different people, we’ll know we loved each other.”
Eddie scoffs. “I’ll know.”
“How?”
“How will I know that I loved you?” he repeats, like the answer’s obvious and far too silly to ponder. You nod, and he shrugs. “‘Cause I have to. I can’t help it.”
Something warm blooms behind your ribcage. “And I’m the cheesy one?” you tease with a big, girlish grin.
“It’s your fault. You bring the worst outta me, honey.”
You laugh when he drops his head to your chest, pressing a kiss over your heart and lingering there. You pray it stains forever.
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tunafruitt · 4 months
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--> ||❝ The Creator has a.. LOVER?! ❞
SAGAU || Warnings: fluff, gender neutral reader
[ The people of Teyvat find out their grace has been romantically involved with someone for a while now.. what do they think about it? ]
Character(s): NEUVILLETTE, ZHONGLI
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-> [ NEUVILLETTE ]
“Oh, the Iudex of Fontaine is the creator’s chosen suitor? Okay.. He’s a qualified and accomplished man. I can see why the creator chose someone like him.”
With the one and only hydro dragon sovereign stuck to your side at all times, it was no surprise to anyone that the two of you had gotten close. But the creator falling in love with him?? That’s different.
Of course, the people of Teyvat had all wished to have a chance with you. And of course, everyone knew it was impossible… but hope is a good thing right? They knew the day would come though, just not so soon..
When the people found out that the Creator had someone they loved more than the usual “I love all of Teyvat equally and platonically.” EVERYONE WENT CRAZY. What do you mean the creator has a LOVER? What do you mean they’ve probably kissed. WHAT DO YOU MEAN ITS THE IUDEX OF FONTAINE????
Nevertheless, no one was actually disappointed. They had heard you talk about him through the screen even before you descended to Teyvat. They were glad you were happy… I guess (though they wish it was with them.) Fontaine obviously took pride in having the creator spend a lot of their time residing there, even more pride in the fact that you were romantically involved with a citizen of Fontaine.
─━━ ꯭  ───ׂ─ִ─  ͜͡✿͜͡  ─ִ──ׂ──  ꯭  ━━ִ─
Neuvillette wasn’t quite sure how to react to all of the publicity the news had gotten. Every time the two of you go out together he feels the stares coming from the people around you. The stares weren’t the usual stares he got when he was doing a court trial.. they felt new to him. He was glad that he was at least able to say more affectionate words to you out in public though!
“Monsieur Neuvillette! I’ve heard the recent news.. haha.. so, how’s it being with the Creator? Bet you feel real lucky, huh.“
“I would consider myself lucky to be with Y/N. I feel that no amount of love give—“
“Y/N???? I-I MEAN— YOU’RE ON A FIRST NAME BASIS WITH YOUR GRACE?!”
“I am. Now, if I may continue…”
When he’s not actively working and someone asks him about you, he could yap about you for HOURS. So much to the point people avoid bringing you up even in non-professional events. He’s literally lovestruck. Heart eyes when he looks at you and everything. (everyone’s secretly side-eyeing him… out of jealousy.)
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-> [ ZHONGLI ]
“Hm.. The Wangsheng Funeral Consultant..? He is quite a handsome man, but is that all? Of course we respect him! It’s just that.. I expected the Creator’s suitor to be an Archon or something. But if that’s what the creator wants, we should respect their choice right?”
The people of Liyue had begun to put the pieces together. No wonder you were always visiting the Funeral Parlor.. wait, were the times that the both of you were spotted together at Iron Tongue Tian’s Stall listening to the telling of old stories.. DATES?? How could they have only just now realized…
Well, now that the news is out at least you can comfortably hold his hand outside of the Parlor! Not everyone is completely happy with this though.. Who might that be? The other archons of course! They all took pride in being among some of the closest beings in Teyvat to you, but now that they weren’t all equally close to you, feelings of jealousy began to rise.
Zhongli secretly felt smug about that though. I mean, of course anyone would. Being the Creator’s lover is probably the biggest flex in all of Teyvat!! Only certain people are able to even be close to the Creator, not to mention TOUCH them. (which are the playable characters.) Oh, and doing affectionate things like lovers do WITH THE CREATOR?? The things people would do to be in Zhongli’s place.
─━━ ꯭  ───ׂ─ִ─  ͜͡✿͜͡  ─ִ──ׂ──  ꯭  ━━ִ─
You and Zhongli were taking a walk in the city of Liyue as you always do. There was a cool breeze and the orange lights coming from the food stalls gave the atmosphere a comfortable, warm feeling. You looked back at Zhongli who had already been staring at you. He’s about to put his arms around you when out of nowhere—
“Your Grace! Fancy seeing you here.. ehe. Are you here for the Lantern Rite? Oh! You should come to the Windblume Festival again! We’ll make sure to make it extraaa special, just for you. Speaking of special— There’s a new wine back in Mondstadt made specially from the freshest dandelio—“
“Hello, Venti.”
“Oh. Hello Mr. Zhongli. Are you busy right now? If not, the Funeral Parlor is calling for you. You should probably go.”
“The Funeral Parlor is closed today, Venti.”
lmao archons actively trying to get you to spend time with them instead of Zhongli. (They can’t stand to see you hugging, holding hands, and doing all kinds of sappy activities with him)
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AGHHH SECOND WRITING EVER!! Had fun ^_^ might do a part 2 with Itto and Xiao (or other characters) feel free to leave recommendations for any other characters!! Likes nd reblogs are much appreciated ^_^
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luvyeni · 4 months
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❛MR. VAMPIRE❜ ( p. sunghoon )
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p. vampireceo!sunghoon x fem!reader w. 1.5k
warnings? oral ( f. receiving ), uprotected sex, biting, mentions of blood
— 𖦹 ( finding out you're your boss is a vampire ) !
authors note. i listened to mr. vampire by itzy and i was inspired✨
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“Did you hear the rumors about Mr. park?”
You perk your ears up, listening to your coworkers gossip. “which ones?” it had only been your first week at your new job, and you haven’t had the chance to meet your boss yet — but you’ve heard many things about the man.
“that’s he was a vampire.” Your other coworker laughed, standing around the table of the table in the break room. “a vampire? Come on I’ve heard everything but that’s first.” They laughed as sipped on your water. “Y/n what do you think of Mr. park?” one of them asked. “You think he’s a vampire?”
“we-well I-i don’t believe in vampires so I don’t think he's one.” You fiddled with your lanyard around your neck. “But I did hear he’s is kind of mysterious, maybe he just likes to live a quiet life — b-but I don’t know him so.” You quickly said. “I’m sure he’s great.”
“Yeah?” you heard a voice from behind you — your coworkers gasping before you turned around; the tall man stood in front of you, his skin pale — you can see where the rumor came from; even the pointy teeth; his alluring eyes — you didn’t even notice you were staring until he let out a cough. “your friends left.” You quickly grabbed your trash, throwing it away ready to leave, but he stopped you. “you’re the new employee aren’t you?” he asked. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“m-me? Y-You’ve heard a lot about me?” you pushed your glasses on your face; he smiled, eyeing your figure up and down, making you feel small. “Yeah.” You didn’t notice him getting him getting close. “Not often we get someone as sweet as you.” You were now looking up at him. “I-I’m not sure what you mean sir?”
“don’t worry, many people just said you’re hard working.” He said. “keep up the good work, okay?” you nodded, the walls feeling like they were closing in; you could barely speak, his scent was so intoxicating. “o-okay.” You managed to get out. “I’ll get back to work sir.” He nodded, you squeezed past — you swore his skin was cold to the touch when you accidentally came in touch with his hand. “have a good day sir.” You bowed walking quickly back to your seat able to breathe.
Sunghoon watched you scrambled back to your seat, your friends whispering — “what was that?” “you both looked like you needed a moment alone.” He smiled hearing your shaky voice. “I don’t know; and I must be going crazy because his hand was cold.” You said. “you don’t believe that stupid rumor?” your coworkers laughed. “of course not, it was probably all in my head, vampires aren’t real.” You said, he shook his head, walking back to his office — you could not have been more wrong.
“Hey, you going home?” you saw your coworker putting her coat on. “I have a few more things do.” You pouted. “well good night, don’t try and get home soon.” You hummed, going back to tapping at your computer.
About an hour later, you stretched letting all the tension away, checking the time — you should get home now. You grab all your things ready to; but you see that Mr. parks light is still on. Why was he still here? Most of your old bosses left early. You walked over to his door, ready to knock but the door was slightly open and he was inside, his chair turned — was he talking to someone. “sir?”
He didn’t answer you, but he wasn’t talking on the phone— so maybe he was sleep. “M-mr. park?” you open the door, walking into the room. “Are you okay?” He stood to his feet making you jump a little. “I’m fine.” He turned around — your heart dropping; his eyes red, lips red. “M-mr. park.” You stepped back ready to leave out the door in fear, but he was quicker than you. “why are you so scared?” he heard your heart beating. “yo-you’re a v-vamp” you could barely say anything. “a vampire.” He finished your sentence. “go a head, say it.”
His hand was above your head, your back pressed against the now closed door. “you’re a vampire.” You said. “I wont hurt a pretty thing like you.” He finally got a good whiff of your scent. “a special girl like you.” His hand coming down to your cup your face. “my precious mate.”
“m-mate?” you stuttered, his hand coming down, traveling from to your cheek to your neck, his nail scratching where your neck and shoulder meet. “So sweet I knew it the moment I stepped into the break room this morning.” He whispered. “S-sir, t-this is too much.” You said breathless, your legs feeling weak, his voice and the look he was giving you made a shiver run your spine, down to your core. “you feel it don’t you.” He took a deep inhale. “I can smell you darling.”
He took it upon himself to close the inch gap you placed by your hand — grabbing your wrist, kissing your lips, the metallic taste of blood on your tongue, you moaned into the kiss, he let your hand go, picking you up by your thighs, carrying over to his desk — the blood bag on his desk. “I got some much sweeter baby.” He pushed your skirt up to your waist. “so sweet baby.” He sunk down to his knees, smelling your sweet scent. “fuck baby you’re soaked.” His teeth scrapped your thighs. “s-sir.” You whined.
“sunghoon.” He kissed your clothed cunt. “say my name sweetheart.” You moaned out. “Su-sunghoon.” He smiled. “good girl.” He pulled your panties to the side. “fu-fuck you taste so good.” He dove into your cunt, licking and slurping at your folds, his tongue moving in and out of your sopping hole. “su-sunghoon, m’gonna cum.” You throw your head back. “fu-fuck!” you yelped, praying that office was empty, sunghoon couldn’t care less about that as long as he could feel you cumming on his tongue.
He pulled himself away from you, his urges taking over fully — the need to feed again creeping up on him once again — the need to mate you even stronger. “that’s okay.” You unbuttoned your shirt, revealing your pale pink bra, and you’re waiting neck — you had no idea if it would hurt or not, you were completely sure on what he even meant when he said you were his mate, but right now you wanted him in everyway — you want him to bite you.
“you don’t have to.” He said. “this must be all new to you.” you bared your neck to him, he could see your veins — the sound of your blood being pumped through your body. “I want to.”
He couldn’t fight it anymore; and he didn’t want to, you were his mate and wanted to claim it as such, he knew about the other vampires lurking around in the office and he didn’t want them to even think they had a chance. “please bite me.” Your voice sounding so sweet and so desperate — it made his cock twitch in his suit pants.
“since you’re begging for it.” He was sitting in between your legs, unbuckling his pants, letting them fall to his ankles. “but we’re gonna do it my way.” He pulled your panties down, freeing his cock from his underwear. “gonna fuck you first.” He rubbed his cock along your folds, pushing himself inside of you. “oh fuck!” you screamed as he bullied his thick cock into your tiny hole. “fuck you’re so small down there.” He cursed. “so fucking tiny.”
He began to move his hips, fucking into you.fucking into you. “you’re pussy is magic.” He groaned. “g-getting -fuck- getting addicted already. You were a moaning mess. “made for me — made for me to fuck.” He groan. “for me to breed.”
That made you made you clench around his cock. “is that what you want -shit- for me to breed you?”
You nodded. “pl-please.” You moaned. “gonna do what I wanted to do since you walked in here.” He finally bared his pointy fangs, you felt your heart speeding up. “calm down.” He slowly grinded his hips, bringing his teeth to your neck. “not gonna hurt you.” He whispered, biting down.
“sh-shit.”
You gasped feeling the blood leaving your body — his hips now moving at a brutal pace as he drained your body. “su-sunghoon.” You slurred. “g-gonna — oh fuck!” you screamed unable to speak as your mouth hung open, cumming harshly around his cock; your head feeling dizzy due to blood loss.
He finally pulled away, licking up the rest of your blood. “sh-shit m’not gonna last.” He groaned. “fuck” his hips stilled, you felt his load shooting into you. “s-so full.” You sighed, as he finished licking at your neck, two puncture wounds adorning your neck. “pretty baby.”
He pulled out of you — you whined at the sudden lost. “so greedy already.” He watched his cum leak out of you. “don’t worry princess we got forever.” He pulled your panties up. “keep it inside for me.” He kissed your lips. “you’re mine now.”
“mines forever.”
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©️LUVYENI
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shiny-jr · 16 days
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not my world [ prologue ]
– Summary: One day you wake in a foreign world with nothing to your name except the clothes on your back. A talking cat named Grim, gives you your only lead to return home. Seek out the seven gods and pray they answer your plea.
– Warning: Yes, this series is a yandere thing, although this post really isn't. Gender-neutral reader.
– Characters: Grim.
– Note: Think of this like a test, just to see how it's received. Yes, this is based off that outlander post I made a while ago. I was thinking I could make this a long-lasting series. However, it really depends how y'all like it. There's not too much going on here, because I'm trying to set the scene and I wrote it all fairly quickly. However, it's just a small taste. So, let me know what y'all think.
– Pages: 11
“So… you’re saying that you woke up here on this beach with no explanation, but you’re from another world so you have no idea where you are? You fell asleep in your own bed, in your own home, and now you’re here, with no way to go back?” 
As far fetched as it sounded, you could only grimly nod. A dream, this should’ve just been a nightmare. But that was confirmed to be false when you pinched yourself multiple times and tried to splash yourself with the nearby ocean water. Everything felt so real, from the sand between your toes to the breeze in the air and the sunlight drying the water off the surface of your flesh. You wanted it to be nothing but a dream, especially when you found a talking cat with a forked tail and blue fire in his ears. 
This was your third attempt trying to explain things to this impish but rather harmless little furball, and each time he seemed more puzzled than the last. His little black nose twitched as he sat in front of you, his paws digging into the sand as those strange eyes of his studied you closely. His voice was grating, high-pitched, speaking with a tone of doubt. “You don’t look like you’re from any of the seven nations. No pointed ears, no beast features, not even a magestone to your name! Well, it makes sense. A nobody like you obviously wouldn’t have a magestone anyways.” 
That was probably meant to be an insult, but considering you didn’t even know what a magestone was, you didn’t really take any offense at all. Pointed ears, beast features, magestones, annoying talking cats– you really didn’t care about any of that. “Because I’m not from whatever seven nations there are. I already told you where I’m from.” 
“Yeah, well I never heard of wherever it was you said. So get lost, would you, human? I’ve claimed this beach alrea–” 
A low growl rang in the air. Swiftly you scanned your surroundings, fearful that you were about to be attacked by some mythical beast. However, when you looked back to the feline who now looked quite ashamed, you realized the noise came from his stomach. Actually, the little fellow seemed pretty scrawny, and you could just barely make out the shape of his ribs poking out of his sides. 
Standing up, you brushed off the sand clinging to the oversized t-shirt you fell asleep in. Thankfully, you at least had sandals, which was better than waking up here barefoot. With one look around, there didn’t appear to be anyone for miles, and no sign of civilization here. Leaving the cat as your only option to turn to, as jarring as it was to be speaking to a cat. “Er… Look, if you could at least help me find people, a shelter, a city, something– then I’ll see about getting you something to eat. Deal?” 
“I don’t need your help! But… I’m curious, so I’ll follow anyway.” 
“Great…” You sigh, as you decide to follow a path that leads away from the shoreline and into woodlands. At the very least, you were not completely alone. This would be much more terrifying if you had woken up and there was absolutely no one around. “So, do you have a name or are you, like, feral?” 
“I’m not feral!” It hissed as it walked in tandem beside you, keeping up with your steady pace. “Since I am so great, I will allow you to know my name. I am the all-mighty Grim! One-of-a-kind and destined to one day become strong, powerful enough to defeat even the seven gods!” 
“Seven gods…?” Was this some sort of fantasy setting? It had to be. First he mentioned pointed ears and beast-people, and you were having a conversation with a talking cat! Maybe seven gods were the least outlandish thing you’ve heard today. “Well, I’m (Y/n).” 
“You’ve never heard of The Seven? How stupid could you be?” 
You frowned at his toothy little grin as he ridiculed you for your knowledge on a place you just ended up in. “Well excuse me for not knowing anything about this place I just ended up in!” Tearing your gaze away, you saw a cabin up ahead. It appeared abandoned, so there wasn’t any hope of seeing another person yet. Still, there may be something useful inside, so you approach. 
Trying the knob, you found the lock jammed. The wood of the front door was rotting, some of it in splitters and the windows were shattered. With a few strong kicks, the door became dislodged and finally gave way beneath the pressure. 
“You’re excused– hey! Tuna!” You didn’t even bother stopping the feline when he rushed into the abandoned cabin, sprinting after the few cans of tuna he spotted on an old table. At least he would get to eat. 
You didn’t particularly care for canned fish that’s been sitting there for who knows how long. In practically a blink of the eye he had devoured three whole cans of the stuff and licked the remnants off of his whiskers. 
“Okay, okay, since I feel so bad for you, and because you found these tuna cans, I’ll be your guide. That way, I don’t owe you nothin’ after this! Maybe one day, if you’re still around, you’ll see me ascend to the ranks among the archons and you can brag like I knew him! Isn’t Grim so cool and praise worthy? I might even remember you and accept your prayers! You can thank me now.” 
At his smug expression, you squinted incredulously as he began walking down the path in the middle of the woods once more. Following hesitantly, thankful there was daylight and this seemed like a particularly nice forest, save for the very depths of it further away from the road that were dark due to the cover of leaves and branches above. However, the trees closest to you weren’t so dense, and the sunlight filtered through the thin foliage. The dirt road was wide, but slightly covered with scattered blades of grass and underbrush, as if no one had used it in a long while. Squirrel-like critters darted about in trees, strange fruits hung on low-branches, and foreign flowers sprouted alongside little ponds. 
“I’ll thank you after an explanation and a little help. So, what’s this about gods?” 
“Let’s see… I’ll put it so simple that even a baby can understand! There are seven nations, and each one has a god. These gods are super-powerful! I’m talking crazy-strong, like they can level mountains and raise the sea type of miracles!” 
As he strolled beside you, his forked-tail swished back and forth. For now it seemed like he knew where he was going, so hopefully that was a good sign. Right now, you had no idea what to do or how to get home. However, if magic existed in this realm, then surely there would be some way to get back. There had to be, for your own peace of mind. 
“Maybe if you pray to one, you’ll get an answer. But the chances of that are pretty much zero, because only idiots rely on the gods since they almost never answer. You’d have a better chance trying to actually meet one of them and try to talk to them in person, but good luck with that!” 
As the road neared a cliff, you caught a glimpse of the scenery. It was a kingdom, a whole city that began right at the edge of a vast meadow. The rolling valley ended at a river, across a wide stone bridge where the city began. Miles and miles of cobblestone roads lined with two to three-story buildings, and rising above it all was a white palace with red conical roofs that pierced the very sky. It looked fantastical, like something straight out of a peculiar little story book, especially considering how unnaturally bright the flowers were and how there was the occasional mushroom as tall as a tree. 
Never before in your entire life had you ever seen a single place like this. Some stupid naive little part of yourself had hoped that perhaps you were still in your world, but this was simply proof that tore that little shred of hope to bits. “What is this place…?” 
He paused to scratch a spot behind his ear. “That’s the capital city of Heartslabyul. You see that big palace all the way over there? That’s where the god of fire lives. One day, I’m gonna live in a place even bigger, grander, than that! My worshippers will build, brick by brick, a towering temple that reaches the very heavens! It’ll make that palace look puny in comparison!” 
Dumbfounded, you nearly get left behind in your stupor once the feline begins to walk down a rocky slope again. You follow, as Grim yammered on and on, “Fire is harsh, just like that place. Trust me, I tried staking a claim there, but I was kicked out! Can you believe it? Me! They just threw me out as if I were nothing! Anyways, I already forgot what you were looking for, but whatever it is, you’ll probably find something there––” 
“A way home?” You reminded him, a tiny bit irked that he seemed to forget so easily. For such a haughty little beast with nothing to his name, he was very conceited. 
“Ooh yeah, right. That. Gods have all this magic and wisdom from their years and stuff, so they gotta know something. But if I were a god, I wouldn’t answer you, to be honest.” 
Grumpily you point out the obvious. This cat-like creature was far from the divine that you were currently picturing. “You’re not a god.” 
Yowling in response, Grim shot back with irritation, “Yet! Not a god yet!” When he spat, a small puff of smoke and a spark of flames he tried to aim at the dirt caused his blue ear flames to flicker stronger until one stray flame popped like a hot scorching coal. It went flying directly at your face, and all you could do was react quickly enough to try and step back while your arms and hands covered your face. 
However, no pain ever came. “How are you doing that?!” 
“Doing what? And you need to watch it with––” When you began to lower your arms, you saw it. When you had shielded yourself, your knuckles had been against your cheek and so your palm was facing outward. Floating in your open palm, was that small spark that came from his ears and nearly burned you. Immediately your eyes widened, and the surprise didn’t end there. As if fluctuating with your shock, the fire became a small yet harsh monetary crackling burst that caused both you and the feline to yelp and stumble back in disbelief until your palms were normal once again. 
“You big fat liar! You do know magic! Where’s your magestone?” 
Seeing his gray fur stand on edge, you quickly answered, seemingly just as confused as he currently was. “I-I don’t, I swear! I don’t even have a wizardstone! That has never happened to me before! This, magic, stuff like that, talking cats, huge mushrooms, none of this is supposed to be real!” 
“Magestone! Not wizardstone! M-A-G-E!” 
“Same difference, what do I care?” You had to double-check your hands, wanting to trick yourself again into believing it was something that could be easily explained. Yet this didn't seem like that. This was something else entirely that didn’t make sense, it couldn't be explained. Not while you were still reeling and staring at your own two hands in utter disbelief. “What the hell was that…?” 
Sniffing the air around you, Grim paced slowly around you as his whiskers twitched with each sniff. After several rounds circling you, he plopped down in front of you and peered up at you quizzically. “I really don’t smell a magestone on you… but you used my fire! It was blue! Everyone knows you can’t use magic without one! Wait a moment… this is perfect!” Immediately brightening up, the little creature gave a toothy grin as he declared, “From now on, you will be my servant! One day when I am a god, I will make you a demi-god! Everyone knows the great gods have divine or mystic servants of some kind! So you will be my henchman! Count yourself blessed, human.” 
“What…?” For now you didn’t even want to touch anything, especially yourself. What if you just tapped something and it was set ablaze? Although you felt fine physically, you were not completely okay. Mentally your mind was scrambled with trying to comprehend everything going on and being said, and now you had the additional burden of accidentally burning everything you touched. 
“Maybe it has to do with the fact that you aren’t from here, so this world’s rules don’t even apply to you… yeah, that’s it! This is great! Does this mean you can wield other elements? We should try! If it storms tonight, we’ll stand at the highest cliff and wait for lightning to strike!” 
“Definitely not!” You screech in reply, currently trying to prevent yourself from panicking and having a destructive mental breakdown all at the same time. Keeping your arms away from your body and fingers spread apart, you tentatively try grabbing stones and sticks and blades of grass to test the ability and see if anything would be set ablaze. And yet, nothing happened, so you slowly began to relax, as much as was possible in that moment. 
Grim watched with great intrigue, hoping, wishing, to see you burn something straight with your hands. However, when he saw not a single spark or sign of smoke, he sighed, “Don’t you realize the possibilities! A small chosen few can wield magic like that, and even then, it’s only one element! This means that you might be able to do more! We’ll be legendary, beating every foe we come across!” 
“Woah, woah, woah, who said anything about beating foes?” Cutting off that idea right now before it would get out of hand. It had only been a few minutes, not even an hour, and even you could see that Grim was a handful. “I am no fighter. If I magically somehow have these weird abilities now, doesn’t mean I want to fight with them. Are you insane? The most I’ll do is like… instantly heat up my food or make a light in the dark. That’s it. Actually, that first one sounds pretty useful…” 
Angrily throwing his paws up in exasperation while falling back on some patches of grass, he groaned, “Ugh, but that’s so boringggg! Where’s your creativity? You could become a god among gods!” 
Choosing to ignore his less than enthusiastic response, you proceeded, drawing his attention back to something he recently mentioned. Awkwardly you grip your hands, twisting your wrist between your fingers, yet nothing hurts. Everything felt normal, as if you hadn’t just wielding fire a minute ago. “You said a god of fire resided over there in that city, right?” 
“Yeah, you’ll fit right in with all those hot-headed fire-breathers now that you have a bit of magic.” 
As the two of you neared the bottom of the cliff and approached a smaller section of the forest that would lead directly to the road that branched off into either a vast meadow or the gates of the kingdom, the world seemed to stop when a loud rumbling rang through the air. The birds ceased their singing songs and the squirrelish creatures paused their chittering chattering. The ground shook and in the far distance, miles and miles behind the palace where there looked to be nothing but untamed wilderness, balls of fire spewed forth from what you had thought were mountains but were actually volcanoes. Seeing the smoke pour out from the peak, you debated running right back to the beach which was in the opposite direction of the rupture in the earth. 
While initially startled, Grim quickly relaxed and began his walking again just as the sounds of nature resumed their tune. As if by some miraculous work of magic, the volcano stopped its rumbling just as quickly as it began, and the smoke receded as well. Like a pot popping on a stovetop and simmering over with water, but its vapor and contents contained by a top, that’s how rapidly it started and ended. Grim proceeded to walk in front of you to lead the way. Sensing your question before you even voiced it, he called out over his shoulder, 
“Don’t look so panicked, we’re not gonna die. That happens like once a week. It used to be more sparse but… well, like I said, all the humans in the kingdom are a buncha hotheads. Especially their king! Everyone knows the god of pyro has the worst temper of all the seven, that’s why the volcanoes go off when he’s all angry! All you gotta do is gather up the courage to ask him what you want to know, and pray that he doesn’t incinerate you where you stand.”
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lowkeyerror · 1 month
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The Family Business Ch. 9
WandaNat x Reader
Word count: 2.5k
Ch.Notes: emotional turmoil, jealousy
Summary: After last night's events things only grow more complicated between Wanda, Natasha, and the reader.
An: So... I have blown through all of the pre-drafted parts I have for this and am now writing in real time the goal is to do post every monday but bare with me if I slip up.
Series Masterlist | Masterlist
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The smell of coffee is the first thing to enter your sense as you stir from your place in the bed. You can't move much as your legs are tangled with someone else’s. You can feel soft breaths tickling your face. Your brow creases, but you make no other movements.
There’s a slight shift in the bed, and that's when you begin to feel a finger dragging itself along your collarbone. It’s gentle as it draws patterns lightly tracing up your neck and jaw. A thumb ghosts over your lips, but you stay still.
“Even after this life has been so cruel to you, and you've grown this hard outer shell; your skin feels so soft. So pretty under my touch.”
You are fully awake, but something stops you from opening your eyes. Instead you scoot closer to the woman and pull her body closer to yours. Your arm flexes as you hold her in place.
“Enjoying the cuddling?” Natasha’s voice enters the room.
“She’s so peaceful like this, I don’t want to wake her,” Wanda shifts in your hold.
She maneuvers so that she's sitting up right in the bed. Your head falls into her lap, and her hands start running through your hair.
“We have to, I’ve heard from Pietro that people are already being made aware of the oil spill. They’re scrambling, he’s already at the office with Kate taking orders.”
You hear Wanda sigh, “This is nice, it almost feels domestic.”
Natasha laughs lightly, “Yes, having your wife bring you and your lover coffee, screams domestic.”
“She’s not my lover, Natasha,” Wanda’s voice sounds harsh.
It takes everything to keep your body from tensing as you listen into this conversation you aren't directly involved in.
“It’s a joke baby,” you can almost hear the smirk on the woman’s face.
“Jokes are supposed to be funny Natasha,” she deadpans.
“I agree there's nothing funny about you being in love with Y/n.”
You hear shuffling and then a quick thud as Wanda throws something at Natasha. By her exasperated sigh you can tell Natasha caught it.
“Can we save this discussion for… I don’t know, when Y/n isn’t laying in my lap,” Wanda says defensively.
“Fine, but the last thing I’m going to say is your taste in women is 10 out of 10,” Natasha chuckles.
“Fuck you,” Wanda can’t help but laugh as her wife exits the room.
Wanda refocus her attention back to you, “We have a big day ahead of us little krolik and unfortunately it starts now.”
She shakes you gently and calls your name a few times. You pretend to wake up. The sight of Wanda in the morning is something entirely ethereal. You can’t help but stare at the woman. Especially after what you heard this morning.
Your intense gaze makes the woman shift and clear her throat, “Natasha made coffee for us.”
You laugh a little, your voice groggy from sleep, “Sounds like a good thing to wake up too.”
“It can’t hurt, we have a busy day ahead of us,” she says getting out of the bed.
“Your bed is like 10 times more comfortable than mine,” you sink further into the mattress.
Natasha enters the room, “Glad to hear you slept well.”
There’s something grateful about the look you give the spy, “Thank you for that. Both of you.”
“The door is always open for you lisichka,” Natasha smiles warmly back.
With much reluctance you get out of the bed. Your feet shuffle across the bedroom floor and you scratch your head, suddenly becoming more aware of the fact that you aren’t in your home.
“I guess I should go get ready at my place,” you say stretching.
“We’ll meet you over there and head to work together, ok?”
You agree to these terms and make your way home. When you get there the composure that you usually carry yourself with slips.
The brief conversation that played out between the married couple echoed in the walls of your mind. It was a joke, that’s what Natasha said in the beginning. However after claiming Wanda was in love with you, it didn't sound like a joke anymore.
Wanda is a married woman. You know this and you’d feel confident in saying that the marriage is a happy one. Natasha is good for her, better than you could ever be. Wanda being in love with you wouldn’t make sense.
As you get ready for work it’s nearly all you can think about. Every moment where you hugged each other for too long, where her hand would find it’s way in yours, where the two of refused to break eye contact was now floating in your head.
It was hard not to romanticize it, you had feelings for Wanda since you were a teenager, and now you are being told she feels the same.
It's a heavy feeling that sits in your stomach. Every part of your being wishes it could be joy, but it’s sorrow and dread. The other accompanying thought with this revelation is, Natasha.
The woman was amazing in her own right. She deserves the same love, attention, and kindness that Wanda does. You refuse to be a home wrecker. Their love it’s organic, it’s feels true. It was enough for Wanda to bring home a wife, knowing her family wouldn’t approve. There wasn’t a reality where you’d let her throw that away.
Your thoughts don’t get to consume you any longer when the doorbell rings. You put on a face of determination as you leave your home with Wanda and Natasha.
Once you’re at the office everything seems more hectic than usual. The three of you are all whisked away in different directions, answering to the influx of calls.
The sheer volume of people you have on your line, startles you a bit as initially you thought this would be enhance the unlawful business practices, but it has also benefited the business used as a front.
This might’ve been a million dollar move. However, it truly wasn’t about the money. The supply for the family was endless. It was to regain control of the city and to assure them whether Dragos was in charge or not the Maximoff’s would be running this city.
The victory is bittersweet as thoughts of Dragos invade your mind. He should be here celebrating with you all yet he lay still in a hospital bed, using machines you couldn’t name to help him breathe. With Flora likely sitting there with him, tremendous sorrow on her shoulders and the wish that he would wake up so she could scold him.
There were bigger things to worry about aside from what you had heard this morning. The health of your father figure, the health of the business, preparing for a war, there was no room for your feelings right now and you accepted it.
“Alright, it’s time for you to go on break,” Kate knocks on your office door before allowing herself in.
“Too busy,” you mumble typing away at your computer.
“I brought you lunch, meaning you have to atop working to eat it,” Kate plops down a bag on your desk.
The smell fills your nose, making your mouth water and stomach growl. You sigh moving your keyboard out of the way to open the bag of food.
“Thanks Katie,” you say before munching on a french-fry.
“No problem, how are you holding up?”
You stretch a bit, “It’s been nonstop in both businesses. I’ve got to be careful not to mix them up as I write the orders. I’m a bit stressed, but I think this is a good stress.”
“And outside of work?”
Your face drops, “I’m barely holding on to be honest. Constantly worried about Dragos, but not just him; Flora, Wanda, Pietro, all of them. I feel so helpless, I haven’t felt this way since I was a child.”
“Y/n-”
“I feel like I’m failing, Kate. We’re fighting against a war, but it’s inevitable at this point. There’s no way Kingpin is going to take this lying down. We can’t afford to lose, but I don’t think any of us are prepared to fight.”
Kate takes your hand in hers causing you to gaze into her eyes. There’s a fire there, one that you forgotten lived inside the assistant.
“Y/n, whatever happens this family will not fall. Others might have alliances, weapons, and political power, but what every single one of them lacks is loyalty. We have people on the outside switch sides, but everyone in this building is here for the long haul. We stand by each other no matter how hard it gets. Maybe you’re right, we’re not prepared for a war right now, but we will be. You aren’t alone in this Y/n, you have a family… thee family backing you.”
She’s right and you know it. It’s a hard a reality to swallow in the sense that with or with Dragos the Maximoff’s don’t have a choice but to win. They will win, but what will be lost on the way to victory. The longer you’re in the position you understand what they mean when they say heavy is the head that wears the crown.
“Something else is bothering you. I can tell,” Kate’s voice is soft when she speaks, snapping you from your thoughts.
You can feel the tip of your ears heat at her question, but you try to play it safe, “It isn’t important and I don’t think it will ever be. We have bigger things to worry about.”
Kate rolls her eyes at you, “You’re right about having bigger things to worry about. Things that you are clearly being distracted from by what’s on your mind. So as your best friend it’s my job to sit here and press you for answers until you tell me.”
It's your turn to roll your eyes, “Can we just drop this, my food is getting cold?”
“There’s a microwave somewhere in this building,” Kate took a seat at the edge of your desk, her hand still in yours.
“You aren't going to let this go are you?”
She shakes her head a little, “Nope.”
You take your free hand and place it over your face, “I heard Natasha say that Wanda is in love with me.”
“Oh my god. Y/n that’s- what’re you going to do?”
“Nothing, I’m not going to do anything.”
Kate’s eyes widen, “Why would she say that? Did she sound mad? How did you hear this? What if she is in love with you? How would you-”
“Enough!” You raise you voice at the girl and she stops.
“Sorry, but this is crazy.”
You sigh, “I know.”
“Do you love her?”
Your eye hit the floor immediately, “I’ve had a crush on Wanda for as long as I can remember. She’s seen me at my lowest, but found value in me nonetheless. Even after all these years she just makes me feel safe and I would do anything for her.”
“But…”
“But she's married to one of the most intriguing women that I've ever met. Someone I know who feels like I do. Someone who takes good care of her and can be there for her in ways that I can’t. They’re the perfect couple. They both truly deserve each other and I refuse to put myself between them.”
It is fully intended to sound strong, but by the end of it you can feel your eyes start to water. You do your best to hold it in but tears start to fall.
“Fuck,” you attempt to cover your face but Kate just pulls you to her by your office chair.
Her hands rests on your face wiping at the tears. You lean into her touch as she begins to rub your back.
“It’s alright, you’re alright,” Kate speak gently.
There’s a soft knock on your office door that gets you to straighten up. The walls are glass so you’re aware that they could see what was transpiring.
“Is everything ok in here?” Natasha let’s herself in, knowing the answer to her question.
You look to Kate, who then looks to Natasha, “Do you want to take over?”
Natasha gives a curt nod. You watch Kate walk out of the office closing the curtains on the way out so no one could see inside. She tells you to call her at the end of your day and you make a mental note to do so.
“Lisichka, talk to me,” she takes Kates previous position. She reaches to wipe the tears from your eyes, but you flinch away.
“I’m fine,” your voice dies as you speak.
“I think we both know that’s not true.”
You glare at her, but then your eyes soften, “I’m just overwhelmed Nat.”
“Maybe it's your turn to go home early n" she suggest.
“I have to stop by the hospital before I go home.”
Natasha hesitates, “I don't think you're in the right space to be there.”
“Someone has to go check on Flora and Dragos,” you stand firm.
“Wanda and I will go,” Natasha says.
You debate for a second on telling Natasha what you heard. You wonder how she would react. However you could never do that to her , not like when she’s looking at you like this. This is the second time in 24 hours that Natasha has been there for you in a time of need.
“Lisichka?”
“I- I’ll see if Kate can take me home,” you abruptly stand from your desk.
You don’t get far before Natasha is wrapping you up in her arms. You melt in her hold, she smells good, her arms are strong. She kisses the top of your head.
“Let me know when you’re home safe, ok? We’ve got everything under control here.”
You nod before heading off in the direction of Kate’s office. When you get to her door she’s on call and you debate leaving, but when she sees you she ends the call.
“Y/n-"
“Can you take me home, please. I know I could ask Clint, but I just-”
Kate cuts you off, “Of course, let’s go.”
You stay close to Kate as you leave the office. Unbeknownst to you, Wanda watches the two of you exit. She heads to your office to find her wife in your chair.
“What happened to Y/n?”
Natasha sighs, “I don't know she wouldn't tell me. I saw Kate sitting on the desk and wiping her tears away so I stepped in. She said she was overwhelmed, but there had to be more to it. I told her to go home.”
“I just saw her leaving with Kate,” Wanda adds.
“She said she’d ask Kate to take her,” Natasha explains.
“I could've taken her,” Wanda says with worry in her voice.
Natasha shakes her head, “You have a business to run and I promised Y/n we’d stop by the hospital after work.”
“I wish she would’ve seen me before she left,” Wanda’s upset, but she contains it well.
“Jealous of Kate?” Natasha tries to tease, but there’s something in her tone that Wanda detects.
“Are you jealous of Kate?” Wanda throws the question back at her wife.
Natasha gaze lingers on her hands, “What if I was?”
Wanda carefully straddles Natasha’ lap in the work chair. She buries her head into the crook of Natasha’s neck before mumbling into the soft skin.
“Then we’d both be jealous.”
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smileysuh · 18 days
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comfort cuisine - TEASER
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🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. You’ve never felt a feral need like this before, but it’s not necessarily the primal type of drive. Instead, it’s a feeling of wanting to be close to this man- who you’ve been next to for so many years, but unable to touch. Except, he’s touching you now, and you want more.
tw/cw. unprotected sex, breast worship/massaging, big dick Johnny, fingering, pussy stretching prep, 'it's finger licking good,' praise, dirty talk, masturbation, multiple reader orgasms, cumming together, creampie, soft sex, longing, fluff, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 10.8k
🍭 aus. aged up/widower dad!John, best friends to lovers, Chef!John, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I'm so happy that people loved Line Chef Mark in my fic Real Talk, I received so many messages about giving Head Chef John his own love story, and this is what I came up with in the past four months :) it's a little different from what I normally do, but I wanted to continue with that 'slice of life' theme and venture into a plot line I've never tried before with widower/single dad John :)
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“So two line chefs called in, huh?” you prompt, tucking your legs up and making room for the large man on the sofa.
“I expected it from Haechan, but Mark’s generally pretty reliable. His girlfriend was on shift today, so I know he wasn’t skipping to be with her- I’m guessing they got pretty messed up last night.”
“They’re young,” you point out, accepting a beer from him. “We used to be young.”
“Used to be,” Johnny laughs, taking a swig of his drink. 
Looking at this man- this father, you realize maybe he never really got the chance to be young. At twenty five, he had a six year old, he wasn't running around blacking out and getting hung over, he was working his way up the employment ladder, dreaming about a better future for his daughter.
“You mentioned Mark has a girlfriend, I think I’ve heard about her a few times now, it’s interesting that she was in and he wasn’t.”
“I’m going to be honest, I love Mark, he’s a great kid- but, he can sometimes be peer pressured into things. Haechan has a hold on Mark unlike any I’ve seen, they bring out… interesting sides of each other.”
You laugh at the description, and it’s clear there’s more on Johnny’s mind, so you wait for him to continue. 
“It’s nice that Mark is young and in love, I can understand that- but at the same time, I just hope he doesn’t make the same mistakes I did. Not that Soonbok is a mistake, of course- I just mean that… life is fragile. You think you’re going to be with someone forever, and then you’re reminded of how frail things can be.”
You frown at his words. Even after all of these years, Johnny still holds so much pain about his lost wife. You want to do your best to help Johnny in every aspect of his life, especially emotional, but this is a topic you never know how to approach. He’s right for grieving, his ex was his first love, his true love- how is there anything you could ever say to make him feel better about her passing?
You open your mouth, only to close it, and Johnny watches you intently. Sometimes he looks at you, the way he’s looking at you right now, and you wonder if he feels the same level of connection with you that you feel with him. You wonder if he wants you to kiss him, if a kiss would make him feel better, if it would - if even for a moment - help him forget about the pains he’s faced in his life.
But it’s because of the pains he’s faced that neither of you can close the distance, you’d like to think about it that way at least. Even after all these years, it’s still too early, so you simply reach out and gently squeeze his hand.
Johnny offers you a smile, and you’re glad that in some small way, maybe you’ve helped him.
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ashipiko · 2 months
Text
—NIKO CIMARRON
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All information on Niko Cimarron ATM! Will most likely be updated ☆
—MORE UNDER CUT
BASIC INFORMATION:
Class: 2-A
Birthday: October 24
Height: 176cm
Dominant Hand: Right
From: Land of Pyroxene / Shaftlands
Club: Film Studies (visits on occasion, inactive member)
Favorite Subject: Magic Analysis
Best Subject: Animal Languages
Likes: Making a profit
Dislikes: Getting outsmarted
Favorite Food: Berries / Berry flavored things
Least Favorite Food: Anything too hot
Specialty: Balancing on the line of lie and truth
GALLERY:
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VOICE CLAIM:
YUU’S INTERVIEW:
— Scarabia Dorms - Niko’s Room —
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for easier reading, all yuu dialogue will be in italics and all niko dialogue will be in a normal black font instead of green.
There you are. Surprised you came to visit me, Carrots.
> You know what I’m here for, Niko.
> Why are you surprised?
No need to act like that. Interview, right? Or should I say an interrogation? If you wanted to hang out with me, you didn’t need to hide around the bush, you know…
It’s cute seeing you all dodgy, but still. ♡
> I think it matches your vibe.
> You’re one to talk.
Yeah, yeah. How many questions do we have planned for today? Don’t take too long, now. I’ve gotta start pumping out those treats for my profit.
…Oh. No need to worry about a pen and paper, I’ve got one for you.
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> I didn’t expect for you to be so prepared.
> (…They’re cuter than expected.)
Something something about matching the vibes… They’re modeled after an old movie about cops and so, interrogating. Figured you’d like them. A carrot for Carrots. It’s cute.
It’s about time to start though, huh?
> Yeah.
> No more wasting time.
INTERVIEW: START!
1. Can we get some basic info about you from… you?
A second year Scarabia student who’s a fox beastman. I guess I’m what you’d call a charmer, thief of the heart, man of your dreams… I’ve heard it all. But the real name’s Niko. Niko Cimarron. My surname means “Wild”, so you could call me Mr. Wild if you like that too. Heh, actually, it’s a business thing, so I guess you’d only call me that if you bought my products… Say, Carrots, you feeling like you need a snack? I have some lefties if you’d like.
> No thanks.
> Why not?
They’re tasty, I prommie~.
2. Speaking of which, what are your “pawpsicles” made from? How do you make them?
Those little things? Why, I’ll let you know I put my blood, sweat, and tears in those treats. Makes me happy to see other people happy, like the faces on a thaumark. To make ‘em, it’s just some tasty berries from the school grounds that get mushed up to get juice, where they go into a mold and freeze up. It’s hard work! I’ve gotta walk so many steps around the school and all across campus… You’re lucky you never saw me in my first year. Took me a while to get used to the schedule… Though, I’m a well-organized man now, I’ll have you know. It’s good for the public image.
3. You’re from the Shaftlands, aren’t you? Do you have any connections to Vil, Cater, or Jack?
Connections? I have them with everyone, really… though I don’t think those three are really aware I came from the same place as them. To be fair, the Shaftlands is a pretty big area. People even go as far to call it a utopia.
If anything, I’ve talked to Diamond more at NRC than anywhere in the Shaftlands. Is that because I never even saw him once? Maybe. So I can’t say about back then, but I can enjoy a good conversation with him now. He’s a good customer and a good influencer. Back then, he got me a good chunk of costumers off of a Magicam post, so I’ve got to give it to him. Who knew people could just follow trendy things at the drop of a hat? Crazy, right?
Vil is a major celebrity, and Jack, I didn’t even know existed ‘till this year. I’ve got nothing to say about Mr. Hardhead, but I’ve had my fair share of talks with Vil. When we were kids, I got a wave from him once… It was great bragging rights. Heh, he kinda freaks me out now though. The reason why I don’t actually participate in club activities. He’s probably too high of a standard for a lowlife like me, so it’s not something that bothers me anyway.
4. You don’t seem to have a Unique Magic. Any reason why?
Ah. Magic? A little bit of a sour topic for me, Carrots, ow… I’m just a late bloomer, is all. I’ve got magic in me, but I never played around with it when I was younger, so I’m way more rusty than all of the other guys here. It doesn’t mean I don’t know the brain stuff, though. Just inexperienced.
If I’m being dead honest, it’s kind of a miracle how I got into NRC. I guess they wanted the fox vote, huh? Heh.
5. Not sure if I’ve seen you around a lot with one particular person. Is there a secret someone?
Secret someone? Getting jealous, are you? Haha, I would’ve never taken you to be the type!
> Not the focus of the question.
> That’s not…!
It’s your fault for wording it like that. You’ve got to watch your words, Carrots. Well, the business life is a cold one, isn’t it? Being around a bunch of highschool guys isn’t really the “ideal” grounds for making business partners either, so it is what it is. At least this way, I get all the profits, so I don’t mind. If you want, I can save a spot for you by my side. ♡
> Again, no thanks.
> Maybe after I get a break from all the things this school brings.
Keep me in mind~.
6. Our last question. You say a lot of random stuff. People get annoyed with it pretty often. How do you feel about that?
…? Oh, you picked up on it, huh? Heh, I mean… I guess I could come clean. I think it’s interesting you haven’t walked away from me yet, y’know. Usually people aren’t into this stuff.
> You are annoying, but…
> (Would it be mean to say something?)
I appreciate you, Carrots. A little too much than I’d like.
Usually people don’t really like the stereotypical foxiness I bring to the table. They run away because I’m either something they don’t wanna get mixed up with, or just something they don’t like. I think you’re a weirdo who’s looking for entertainment when you come into my room and talk to me like this.
…But I guess that just means that you like the way I talk to you, right? You can’t get enough? Is that what’s happening here? ♡
> For a second, I thought you were going to need some comfort, but I guess not.
> Really, it’s fine, Niko…
Don’t pretend like your cheeks aren’t a little red. I like the reactions I get out of you. ♡
Is that all you wanted? Yeah? Alright, we’re done here, then. Hand me the pen, would ya?
> It was nice being able to talk to you like this.
> (That was a quick turnaround.)
…Yeah. Hurry on up, shouldn’t you be studying up on actual things worth studying? Live up to that Smarty McSmart Pants title. Bye-bye now~.
INTERVIEW: END!
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> (I feel like Niko’s more than meets the eye.)
> (I feel like Niko’s… hiding something.)
.
.
.
TRIVIA:
Niko is actually magicless. Not entirely, as he does have some running in his blood, so he didn’t lie, but it’s not enough where he can successfully conjure spells. Because of this, at NRC, he often has to get by with con-artist type excuses and acts. It works most of the time, as he has Crowley’s support. For now, he’s getting by with the excuse of being a late bloomer, but I’m sure suspicions are beginning to rise… Perhaps, if this were to be found out that he’s unable to conjure spells, he would be kicked out of NRC.
He made it to NRC after being dared to attempt to con his way in by his magicless best friend. His name is not noted, but he’s a very angry and violent French fennec fox. Niko is often bullied by him.
He can be considered a fan of Vil.
Niko enjoys the pop genre a lot, but is embarrassed to admit it.
Despite being a playboy, Niko is easily flustered at the thought of someone making moves on him.
Even though he doesn’t want to, he feels obligated to play into the deceitful foxiness of himself, because that’s what people naturally expect of him. It stops them from getting curious about him, as it seems like they’ve already got him figured out.
He says things that are considered shallow, like flirting or bargaining because he wants to get a reaction out of people. Niko does small things like this for small reactions — enough of these small reactions will fulfill the same satisfaction of seeing someone he loves flustered or happy, he thinks. In truth, he knows it won’t amount to much. Niko tries to satisfy himself enough so that he won’t need the real thing.
Niko feels very guilting for deceiving everyone at NRC, especially the prefect. Even still, he doesn’t have the heart to tell them that he truly doesn’t belong here, taking up a spot possibly for somebody who deserves it much more.
Niko’s way of thinking suggests that if he acts distasteful enough, it will cause people to stray far away from him. He believes that he really is just a lowlife fox, but the truth of his actions is something he think people would hate him for most; living in a lie. Because of this, he acts like a playboy and an annoyance in attempts to get people to stay away, preventing them from finding out the even uglier truth of him.
Additionally, he’s afraid to have the truth leak out because he doesn’t want to leave NRC. Though he doesn’t have much, he doesn’t want to lose the little bit he does have.
Even still, Niko craves for someone who will take time to understand him. Which is why he’s so attached to the prefect.
More to be added!
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