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aerofbreath · 5 months ago

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Actually writing something based off of this post. Y'all really seemed to like it and I got scared LOLOL

(How it will probably go (written poorly written cause it's almost 7AM and I haven't slept yet) . Also I have no idea what I'm doing. This will be rewritten better in a fic maybe.)

Jason sighed as he made his way into Gotham University's gym. It was the middle of the day and Jason was there at a Startup Event posing as a guy who was interested in what people had to offer. He had only had maybe a total of four hours of sleep since he had patrol the night before. Granted, this wouldn't have affected him as much if he was more mentally prepared to be awake. The only reason why he's out here was because Bruce had woken him up an hour ago to tell him a little last minute about what he needed to do today. Originally, the plan was to do absolutely nothing. But now he has to investigate a guy that Bruce had his eye on as of lately.

The person he's looking for is a man named Danny Nightingale. Apparently he's been in Gotham for a couple years and only recently started making a mess of things. How it went under Bruce's nose is beyond him considering how freaked out Bruce was once he did find out.

Apparently, the guy has been making life changing machines. Little mechanical bees have been flying around Gotham really just sucking up all the pollution in the air and just depositing it somewhere. According to the media, they go back to some headquarters and into a bee hive looking structure to deposit all the pollution and sludge. From the photos shown, it's actually pretty impressive. Some guy actually making a change around here.

For Bruce- no. For Batman, this is just highly suspicious. Why would some guy make these positive life changing machines? For the better? No. No genius with the power to change the world would do it for the better. There's got to be some ulterior motive behind it.

At least, that's what Batman thinks.

Jason thinks it's all interesting. Maybe there is an ulterior motive but even then, at a scale so large that it's literally affecting the city in a positive way? You've got to be literally more insane than the Joker if you wanted to plaster your face everywhere at an event like this. Everyone else at this event seemed to show promise but compared to Danny Nightingale's company? They're literally all small fry.

Surprisingly enough, however, no one else seems to be at Danny's booth. Not even Danny. Jason frowned as he approached the booth and just looked at the machines on them. The Bees are kind of just flying in place and the moment that Jason even looked at them, the Bees immediately got to work. They flew around him like a puppy with wings, nuzzling against him and bumping into him so dumbly. And honestly?

It was actually kind of cute. You would think that being on such little hours of sleep and being grumpy the whole morning would really affect the pits inside him but no. He's surprisingly calm.

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry! They don't usually act like this," a voice stuttered out. A man hastily walked towards Jason as he gently plucked the Bees out of the air and brought it close to him.

"Uh, don't worry about it. I thought it was kind of..." Jason trailed out before locking eyes with the man who spoke.

This was Danny Nightingale. He was much shorter than Jason, only standing tall at 5' 5". His hair was fully black with only a white money piece right on his bangs. And his eyes? An alluring blue with only a hint of green at the center of his eyes. Honestly, the sight of Danny just about took Jason's breath away.

There was a subtle glow to him, almost making Jason think of there being some sort of meta activity going on but looking around the people in the area, no one but him seems to notice. Danny was concerned about Jason, that much is obvious. The way his eyes burrowed in concern then into confusion. It's strange why just looking at him made Jason's heart skip a beat, even though in hindsight, Danny looks much worse off than Jason.

That man looks like he hasn't slept in 3 weeks. But even then he was...

"Cute..." Jason finally finished his sentence a little too late.

Danny blinked in confusion, tilting his head to the side. His bangs fall freely over his eyes. Just the sight of that almost made Jason blush. "My bees were cute?" Danny spoke, the tone of his voice (very tired) sounded like a sweet harmony in Jason's ears. "Oh! You're interested in Nightech? No one else seems to be interested in my stuff yet. I can tell you all about this company and how it works? I put in a lot of work and love into these little guys and I'm sure you would love them too!"

Blah blah blah. Proper name. Place name. Backstory stuff.

Nothing of what Danny is saying is registering in Jason's brain right now. Maybe some. ("I... Love... You...")

"I love you too!!" Jason blurted out.

Danny blinked before widening his eyes. "Wh-What...?" There was that look of concern again but now there's another look. Recognition...

Whatever. None of that right now. This is embarrassing!

"I-I said I love your company. Uh. Do you have a business card? I can let Bruce Wayne know about this."

Wordlessly, Danny gave an information card to Jason before that poor brick of a man just ran out of there, not once even looking back. Honestly, from the way it's playing out in Jason's head right now, he feels like a princess running away from her prince at the stroke of midnight. The earpiece crackled before a voice started to speak.

"Jason? What the hell was that?" Bruce's voice questioned.

It was only when Jason left the gymnasium that he answered, "Me digging my own grave for the second time, old man. Let me go die in peace."

"No, no," Dick's voice chimed in, "Only after we replay that very short conversation about 50,000 times. Thank you very much."

Jason only groaned in response.

Danny, back in the gymnasium, only stared at the door that Jason left from in horror. The only way for people to react that way to him like that is for them to be dead or liminal. Now he has to figure out a way to tell Bruce Wayne that this person that he seems to know is a little bit dead!

This actually is a part of whatever the fuck I'm writing. I'm still thinking of a fic name. But all of the random posts go together in some way.

#dp x dc prompt #dp x dc idea #danny phantom #dcu #batman #batfam #dead on main #dead on main ship #im honestly just trying my best #this is part of a fic im writing #in hindsight this ship might be problematic #gotta figure out a way for it not to be problematic #but its still a work in progress #it will be rewritten better #aeri posts #aeri writes

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thewritingfairy · 2 months ago

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↪ 06. Your first day at work!

Inspired by acid-xx, rizzanon, nikovraskol

PREV PART trigger warnings: medical + emotional + physical neglect, misgendering (reader isn't out to the bad family yet), filler chapter main m.list series m.list

You hate feeling angry, you hate feeling so tired. But you would always feel like this, well as long as you are in this house at least. You hate feeling like your own pain was nothing but just a pinch of salt compared to your families suffering. But that’s why you got a job, and that’s why you are pulling yourself out of bed. That’s why you are holding yourself together besides the anger raging inside your body.

That anger is the reason you are taking care of yourself, that anger will keep you going for years to come. Even when it disappears. You’ll live on your own and your mind would be your own. Your resentment and anger will no longer keep you in your bed, hiding under your covers.

You are just going to do what you wish for, and today that’s making a breakfast for yourself and get to work.

So that’s what you are doing, ignoring how Tim stumbles in to make some coffee, only for him to sit at the table and scroll on his phone. “You look fancy,” he says, and you sigh. You didn’t want to talk, but of course the day that you dress up for your job Tim decides to have a conversation with you. “are you going anywhere?”

“I’m subbing in for a friend at his work,” you lie, brushing some of your hair behind your ear. You just hope that this was the last of his comments.

“Nice of you to do,” Tim mumbles, he knows you’re lying but then again, does he have any right to call you out? “how late will you be home?”

“I don’t know,” you snap, smacking the pan you’re holding down on the counter. “Why do you care?”

Tim doesn’t flinch him, he doesn’t even look up from his phone as he spoke; “There are rumours that the Joker is out and about.”

“When isn’t he?” You mumble, shoving your food in your mouth. “I’m not scared of someone knock-off clown.”

Tim sighs; “Just be careful.”

You roll your eyes, at least you got breakfast and you took your medication. “I’ll be safer out there then here.”

You could see Tim wince, at least someone feels guilt in this household.

The restaurant was coming along nicely, the sign looks pretty and the building looks a lot cleaner then the first time you were here. You just have to find the employee entrance… “Over here!” you suddenly hear, your head snaps back and there was a young man. His eyes kinder and his posture’s relaxer then Bruce when he plays up the playboy Brucie persona, it makes you nervous. He’s too relaxed for someone working for Penguin... “Yes you, Mx. (last name)! I am your trainer~!”

You hum as you get closer. “You know my name,” you start as you hold out your hand. “but I don’t know yours.”

“Well,” he grins. “you can call me whatever you want, ignorance is bliss isn’t it, darling?”

NEXT PART Honestly, I had a health thing during the holidays, I am mentally checked out with my mom and I just wanted to write something light hearted and short. So here, hope you enjoyed it<3.

Taglist: @prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue, @bunniotomia, @devotedlyshamelessdetective, @princessbonnie-bell, @seemee3, @pix-stuff, @venomsvl, @amber-content, @stove-top96, @frank-vanderboom, @leeiasure, @1abi, @shadowytravelerlover, @chericia, @lithiumval, @lingxio, @cssammyyarts, @marsmabe, @foolishseven, @kore-of-the-underworld, @bunbunboysworld, @homeless-clown, @miashico, @alwaysholymilkshake, @1cxndy, @kittzu, @rtyuy1346, @exactlynumberonekryptonite, @hopingtoclearmedschool, @artistwithcreativeburnout, @alishii, @vanessa-boo, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @91-kya, @ryuushou, @jjsmeowthie, @justthere1956, @depressed--therapist, @xzmickeyzx, @cheappremingerfromdelululand, @plsfckmedxddy, @itsberrydreemurstuff, @trashlaternfish360, @leogf, @dirtydiavolo, @lilyalone, @welpthisisboring, @kenman00001, @nxdxsworld, @icefox8155, @ironsaladwitch, @holderoflostmemories

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pix-writes · 10 months ago

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Stanford Pines relationship HCs

(ford pines x reader) there will be smut so, 18+ below... Some angst, mainly fluff, I HC that most if not all of the pines family are neurodivergent in some way.

A/N: I had a long journey last week and all I could think about was the stans, so this will become specific... 😅 Will do the same for Stanley too in the future.

Ford has a lot to catch up on when he comes back through the portal, but he won't jump into a relationship immediately, it will still take a little time, he's got a lot to adjust to in his home dimension and being with someone has not been his forte.

But once he does he's surprisingly clingy, will want to cuddle up to you, in bed, on the couch, wherever you both are. Not one for real PDA, but will be close to you and call you terms of endearment out in public, just a little less than he does at home. I HC that he'd call his partner "dear" "darling" "honey", looooves your hips and putting his arm around your waist (it's a great way to pull you in to snuggle).

Doesn't hold your hand at first but since you like him to hold your hand and give him assurance over the fact that you like his six fingers, he does. It loosens his insecurities around his hands a lot.

Gets addicted to kissing you, doesn't care whether it leads to more or not, Stanford simply loves kissing whether it's brief or a good long make out session. But he does prefer to take his time over it.

Stanford is very logical, good at patching himself up from decades of portal hopping and therefore will do the same for you if you need it, is meticulous if you get hurt in any way but also has an appalling bedside manner! Doesn't tell you if he's going to do something that will sting and tells you not to be overdramatic if you react negatively to it (you know how people can get a little angry when someone they love gets potentially seriously hurt?). And yet you know him to be a gentle man, generally touches you softly like you're made of glass (unless it's to pull you away from something dangerous), so having him take care of you can also be comforting, he'll never do something painful unless it's necessary. (Don't worry though, his brother will make you stan cakes to cheer you both up.)

Speaking of food, Ford definitely prefers his home universe food to what he had in the other dimensions, tried lots of different unusual dishes, some he even liked, but none of it can compare to his homely comforts. When not sailing and adventuring, he puts on a few pounds. Satiates his sweet tooth and caffeine addiction with mabel juice (is the only other one of the pines to like it), prefers it to coffee. Stanley swears his tastebuds must've been affected during his time away. Doesn't like it with as much edible glitter as mabel does, but this is the only deviation from the original recipe he has.

Excellent teacher, you want to learn how he does something? More than eager to teach you with a steady hand and clear pace. Will teach you regardless how to shoot his laser and magnetic guns, how to defend yourself and how to meditate (if you didn't know these already). Can get into the information and ramble like you know about a topic and then realise (eventually) that he needs to break down or explain what he means.

Despite this he also has a romantic streak, whilst he can forget everything aside from his work or adventures, including important dates, he can also be a very considerate and supportive partner and post-portal wants to include you as much as possible in his life and conversations. You can talk for hours about any and all topics and he loves to be mentally stimulated in a relationship, however that may be.

Does sometimes have nightmares and deep guilt over Stanley and is dealing with it as best as he can, likes to know he can count on you for comfort and guidance, makes him feel less panicked or paranoid after Bill. He and his brother talk things out too and these talks can go on all night into the early morning and it's best for them to have space, Ford is grateful for your patience and willingness to be involved in his life, especially as he knows he wasn't good at opening up to you when you were starting to become friends let alone a relationship.

Ford would be shy at first, but once he gets comfortable with how to pleasure you, expect this man to be kind of obsessed. That absorbing focus he can have on his projects and studies? Yeah that can be transferred to you just as easily, which can be a little intense!

You off-handendly mention something about sexual experiences, perhaps even a joke about things you haven't tried, catching his perplexed look afterwards, you say it's simply fantasy and not really something you need to experience. However what you took for confusion or slight insecurity was actually Ford processing what you said. In fact, it doesn't leave his mind and so he does something he's good at: he does some research 😏

One night you might even wake up from sleep to find him sitting upright, lightly snoring, bedside lamp on, clearly fallen asleep whilst writing on his portable writing desk (it's either a gift from you or the twins, not sure which to choose!), when curiosity gets the better of you and you sneak a page out into your hands, you're faced with his attempts at organising fantasies, what he thinks you would want to try, how would you react to different stimuli or some of his own fantasies... Mainly figuring out how many orgasms he could coax out of you or how long he thinks he could edge you over time, what positions or rp you might like: he's worked it all out in a haphazard kind of way, like he's brainstorming the best approaches.

It's so plan-sexual scientific it's frank but... attractive, because it's so... him.

Whether he wakes up on his own or you wake him up, he ends up blushing, though he's not really sorry that you've found it. He's looking at you with this mix of nerves for how you'll react and new found smugness when he sees that you've been affected by what you've read... And yeah, neither of you are leaving that bed for a long time.

Basically, like a true scientist, he is down to experiment! 😄 He's willing to try anything as long as it's not going to seriously hurt you or it's something he wouldn't try on himself first, this is a boundary he's never willing to cross. Trust and open communication is an important thing for him post-weirdmaggeddon especially, and he's getting better at it as he goes along, so even though he often doesn't feel confident, he is infuriatingly good at aftercare and all the rest!

This means when he's not tripping over his words or flustered by you himself -he can be a damn tease at times and will chuckle to himself when you curse him out for the subtle touches he'll give you over the course of the day before pulling away. Sometimes he doesn't even know he's done it, which is evil.

Stanley will make grumbly jokes about how "you two lovebirds need to get a room!" Or about needing to move out 😅 but honestly he's truly happy his brother is happy and if you get married he will sob the whole time, even through his roasting joke filled best man speech! (Cracks a joke more than once to you that you need to make Ford an "honest man" and then laughs at it himself before whispering to you that he can get the rings if you really want to.)

Will and does suffer in the warmer months because he will wear long sleeves, full length pants and or a turtle neck for the comfort aesthetic

Personality wise him and Stan are different as can be but they often sync up physically in their mannerisms or what they say, as freaky as it is cute in a way, when you are tired/drunk you can swear you're seeing double, which amuses both of them.

His favourite shared past time with you is any kind of board or card game, some of them the rest of the family will join in for, but will also love someone to play d&d&md with if you're willing! Loves to get into the details of the rules of whatever you're playing together and it can get quite heated (secretly finds your frustrated side quite attractive, as long as you're not actually angry at him).

I feel like Stanford would get into videogames as soon as he becomes more adept at technology in this dimension, likely it's dipper who is the one to introduce it to him and he loves it (nerd). Will marathon catch ups on all the movies and shows he's missed; especially the series he was into that got continued after the portal incident. You lose him to Star Wars prequels etc for at least a couple weeks of him getting his head round all the lore and how it works, may have controversial opinions and needs to work it all out, may need to contact dipper about this.

Regularly has calls with the family (mainly the twins) over video chat (and will always call it 'video calling' no matter what platform they're using), so once you're together that includes you too and be prepared to be bombarded with questions from them (your their new graunty or grunkle after all) ❤️

#stanford pines x reader #ford pines x reader #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls hcs #stanford pines hcs #stanford pines imagines #gravity falls imagine #pix writes stuff #more random hcs than specifically relationship I think but some of it is spicy! lol #I keep the nd diagnosis ambiguous for them tho because it's really up to the reader but I #want to take my hcs into account when talking about them/writing them

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thoughtfulfiction · 3 months ago

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People Watcher

Author’s Note: Poll winner, anon requested protective Joe!

Joe wasn’t one to hover. He never tried to control you or tell you what to do. That wasn’t his style. You were smart, independent and more than capable of navigating life’s challenges on your own. But that didn’t stop him from looking out for you in his own way, subtle, steady, always intentional.

Like on game days.

“You sure you’re good sitting in the suite?” Joe asked, tugging a hoodie over his head as he walked out of his office Wednesday evening after a long film session. His voice was casual, but there was a weight behind the question, one you knew well by now.

“You know I don’t mind,” you smiled, adjusting her earrings in the mirror. “Your mom’s fun. She gets loud when you’re winning and she’s always super proud of you. Both of your parents are.”

That earned you a quiet chuckle from Joe. “Yeah,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Just…you know. It’s easier that way.”

He didn’t have to say what that way meant. You knew he wanted you away from the chaos of the stands, where emotions could run high and things could turn ugly fast. It wasn’t that he thought you couldn’t handle yourself. Joe knew better than anyone that you could. But the idea of you being out there alone, surrounded by strangers who didn’t always know when to stop, didn’t sit right with him. In fact, it made his skin crawl a little bit.

“I know,” you said softly, stepping over to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll even text you when I get there.”

Joe’s hand covered yours, holding it still for a moment. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Do that.”

He usually didn’t respond to pregame texts, locking himself away in the depths of his mind and replacing his usual nonchalant self with a stone cold killer, the mentality he had to maintain while on the field to perform at his best. And yet, it eased his mind getting that text from you when he checked his phone one last time beforehand. A reminder of what he was coming home to.

Joe never asked for much, he rarely actually said be careful or stay safe, but that simple request had always been his way of saying both.

It was like that all the time with him. Tiny acts of service that didn’t seem big until you put them all together. How he always asked you to text him when you got somewhere, even though he had your location. How he’d casually mention alternate routes home if traffic was bad or if he heard about an accident nearby. How he never asked you not to go out with your friends but would always remind you to call him if you needed anything, no matter what time it was.

He wasn’t the type to be openly affectionate in public. The man wasn’t one for big grand gestures, preferring to show his love in quieter ways. In the extra hoodie he always left in your car because he knew you got cold easily. In the way he’d ask if you had someone to walk with you to your car if you were staying at the office late.

It was thoughtful without being overbearing, protective without being possessive, just Joe, in that calm, steady way that made you feel safe without ever making you feel small.

“You know I’m okay, right?” you asked, giving his hand a squeeze.

“I know,” Joe said. His lips quirked slightly, just the faintest smile. “But humor me anyway.”

Funny thing is, the trip was supposed to be for the girls. Your best friend Rachel’s requests were concise and clear, a drunken weekend in miami that you’d either never remember OR you’d have memories that would last a lifetime. With those instructions you started figuring out an itinerary. You looked at places to stay, how long the trip would be and where exactly you’d be spending way too much money on green tea shots every night.

“We could do the Gale for a week?” You suggested one evening, your laptop open comparing prices and amenities for you, Rachel and a few other girls that had let you know they would be joining.

“I like that place,” she smiles, tossing a jalapeño chip in her mouth. “The beds are super nice and we could stay in those two bedroom suites.”

Joe pops into the conversation, grabbing his keys that were previously resting next to your computer. “Wait…you’re gonna be gone for days? I thought we all were gonna do something together, you know, to make sure Rachel doesn’t do anything illegal. Just because it’s your birthday doesn’t mean you’re above the law,” he gives her a pointed look, “this isn’t The Purge.”

“I mean…you can come if you want,” you said, trying to sound casual as you leaned against the kitchen counter. “But I know Miami’s not really your thing.”

Joe, who was halfway through tying his sneakers, paused and gave you a look—one eyebrow raised just enough to tell you he wasn’t buying your nonchalant tone.

“You want me to come with you to Rachel’s birthday trip?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Rachel said. “We wanna go for a few days. Just some beach time, clubs, you know… typical Miami stuff.” She shrugged. “We’d just all be one big group and we can all hang out. It’d be fun.”

“I would’ve asked earlier if I knew you were interested. Figured you’d probably rather stay home.” You added in.

Joe nodded slowly, like he was considering it. Truthfully, a loud week in Miami didn’t exactly sound like his idea of a good time. Crowded clubs, overpriced drinks, endless social energy? Not really his scene. But before he could answer, his best friend Zacciah’s voice chimed in from the living room.

“Wait, we’re talking Miami?” Zacciah grinned as he leaned against the doorway. “That sounds like a good time to me.”

“I’m in,” Trae added from the couch, like this was already a done deal.

Joe shot them both a flat look. “I didn’t say I was going.”

“Yeah, but you are,” Zacciah smirked. “Come on, man. It’ll be fun. Beach, clubs, a big group of us—it’s not just her friends.”

“Yeah,” Trae added with a grin. “We’ll make it a whole thing.”

Joe sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine,” he muttered. “But if I’m going, we’re doing it right.”

The next thing you knew, Joe had chartered a private flight and rented a sprawling beach house with enough bedrooms for everyone to have their own space.

“You know this was originally supposed to be a casually chaotic weekend with the girls, right? Now you’ve turned it into an episode of Selling Sunset.” You teased when he showed her the house listing.

He paused, furrowing his brows. “Isn’t that set in California?”

“Right, so you do pay attention when I watch?” You ask suspicious of him since he always said the show was stupid and that you were losing brain cells every episode.

“Anyway, you’ll still get your chaotic girl time,” Joe said with a shrug, moving on from the previous topic of discussion. That alone answered your question. “I just didn’t want you stuck in some overpriced shoebox with no A/C.”

You smiled, shaking your head. He wasn’t loud about it, no grand speeches about taking care of you, but this was Joe in his element. Quietly looking out for you in the most thoughtful ways.

And honestly? You weren’t mad about the upgrade.

As the group filtered into the spacious Miami beach house, everyone was buzzing with excitement. The huge windows opened up to an expansive view of the ocean, and the pool out back practically screamed “boujee vacation.” Rachel played soft music, curating her perfect birthday week playlist in the background as everyone started to claim rooms, tossing bags on beds and getting settled in.

Joe, ever the planner, wasn’t about to let anything slip through the cracks. He’d seen this kind of trip before—a group of people letting loose, and inevitably, a few hangovers in the morning. He wasn’t about to be unprepared.

He was already on his phone, tapping away.

“Alright,” Joe called out to the group, his voice cutting through the chatter. “We’re doing a grocery run online. Everyone needs to add in whatever they want. Let me know if there’s anything specific you need.”

He wasn’t asking for suggestions, he was in charge of this, and everyone knew it. They scattered, pulling out their phones to check in. But Joe had already begun filling in his list.

“Got your Gatorade, your ibuprofen…” he muttered to himself, typing rapidly. “Liquid IVs. Don’t forget the snacks. Chips, candy, all that crap you’re going to want after a night out.”

He shot a glance over at you, raising an eyebrow as you rummaged through your suitcase. “I’m putting all of your favorites on the list. I know you’ll need ‘em. We just won’t mention the Gatorade purchase to my Body Armour people.”

You rolled her eyes with a playful smile. “You know me too well.”

Joe didn’t respond. He just kept typing, making sure he’d covered everything he was sent. He added a few extra things, more water, some fruit for the mornings, and whatever random drink Zacciah had requested. The usual crew was already bouncing ideas off each other, but Joe remained methodical.

“Alright,” he said after a moment, placing his phone on the counter. “List is done. Should be here in a couple hours.”

It was a small thing, but it wasn’t surprising. Joe took care of the details in ways people didn’t always notice. The Gatorade, the medicine, and the snacks weren’t just for the group; they were specifically for you. He knew what you liked, what you’d need after a long night of dancing and drinking. It wasn’t a huge deal, just another way he quietly looked out for you.

“Thanks,” you said, walking up to him. You brushed your hand against his arm. “You always think of everything.”

Joe just nodded, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Someone has to,” he said, his tone steady and matter-of-fact. “Besides, I’d rather be prepared than have to force Trae to run out and grab things in the middle of the night.”

“Fair point,” you replied, smiling up at him.

For Joe, it wasn’t about making a show of things. It was just how he was, always looking out, always a step ahead. The house was amazing, the trip was going to be fun, but as always, his focus was on making sure everything ran smoothly. Even down to the little things.

The club’s bass thrummed low and steady the next night, vibrating through the floor as Joe slid into a booth near the back. It was his kind of spot—dim lighting, tucked away from the chaos of the dance floor but still with a clear view of everything. The sunglasses he wore inside weren’t just for show; they made it easier to watch without being watched.

His arm draped loosely over the back of the seat, and when the server stopped by, Joe kept it simple.

“Gin and tonic,” he said, then glanced at you. “And whatever she’s having.”

“I’m doing shots with the girls,” you grinned, your hand resting on his thigh for a second. “Don’t wait up.”

Joe’s lips curved into a small smile. “I’ll be right here.”

He watched as you weaved through the crowd toward the bar, easily finding your friends. The way you laughed, tossing your hair back as you all clinked your shot glasses together, made something warm settle in his chest. You were in your element—carefree, glowing and just having a good time.

You caught his eye from across the room, your smile lingering when you found him watching. Joe nodded with a side smirk as a silent ‘I see you’. Your grin widened before you turned back to your friends, vanishing into the crowd.

Joe leaned back, taking a slow sip of his drink. He trusted you with every fiber of his being and wasn’t worried in the slightest about your safety in public settings because he knew that you’d take care of yourself. That confidence that you could handle things on your own and your own self assurance was one of the things he loved most about you. But still, whenever you were out, Joe couldn’t help but keep an eye on things because he knew what could happen when guys didn’t take no for an answer.

His gaze followed you out to the dance floor, where you moved effortlessly with your friends. The lights flickered across your face, and Joe couldn’t help but smirk to himself. You looked good —too good—and judging by the attention you were getting, he wasn’t the only one who thought so.

But what Joe cared about most was the way you kept sneaking glances back at him—not for reassurance or for permission, but just to check in. A quiet confirmation that he was still there, still watching out for you in that calm, steady way you appreciated.

He takes his glasses off while looking at you, just enough for you to notice and he puts them back on. You smiled softly, your expression saying ‘I know you’ve got me’.

And of course he did. He always did.

Joe’s fingers tap idly against the side of his glass, his eyes still hidden behind his sunglasses. Outwardly, he’s the picture of calm —shoulders relaxed, one arm slung lazily over the back of his chair. But beneath that stillness, his patience is wearing thin.

The guy’s been circling for a while now—too long. Joe’s watched him linger near your group, pretending to bump into you once, then again. Each time, your smile tightens a little more, your body language shifting from relaxed to guarded. You’re handling it. Joe can see that. But the guy’s persistence is starting to cross a line.

Joe exhales slowly, setting his drink down with deliberate care. He leans over to Zacciah, voice low and steady.

“Hold this for me,” Joe says, sliding his glass toward him.

Zacciah barely reacts, just takes the drink with a small nod—like this isn’t the first time he’s seen Joe move like this. Calm. Collected. Controlled.

Joe rises from his seat, adjusting his sunglasses with one hand before weaving through the crowd. He doesn’t move quickly— no chest-puffing or bravado—just slow, purposeful strides. He’s not here to start a scene; he’s here to end one.

Your friends were still on the dance floor, their laughter and cheers echoing across the room.

“You look like you could use another one,” a voice said beside her.

You turned your head and found a guy standing there—possibly late twenties or early thirties, well-dressed, with a confident smile that leaned a little too far into cocky.

“I’m Xavier,” he said, offering his hand. “I’ve seen you around tonight. Just had to say…” His eyes dragged down and back up again. “You look amazing.”

You gave a polite smile, shaking his hand briefly before tucking yours back around your clutch. “Thanks,” you said. “That’s really nice of you.”

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, leaning closer like he already knew what your answer would be.

“Oh,” you said with an awkward laugh. “That’s sweet, but I’m actually here with my boyfriend, so I’m gonna pass.”

Xavier’s smile barely faltered. “Boyfriend?” He glanced over his shoulder toward the crowd. “Haven’t seen you with any guys tonight, just your friends.”

“He’s here,” you said, your voice still friendly but firmer this time. “I promise.”

Xavier chuckled under his breath like you’d made a joke. “C’mon,” he said with a grin, motioning toward the bartender. “One drink won’t hurt.”

“I’m good,” you repeated, shifting slightly to put a little more space between the two of you. “But thanks.”

The bartender set your drink down on the counter, and you grabbed it quickly, hoping the conversation was over. But Xavier stayed put, his smile lingering like he wasn’t quite ready to give up yet.

“Look, I’m just saying,” he added with a lazy shrug, “if he’s letting you stand here alone, maybe he’s not paying enough attention.”

Your fingers tightened slightly around your glass, frustration flaring in your chest. “Trust me,” you said, meeting his eyes directly, your patience thinning. “He’s paying plenty of attention.”

A shadow shifted behind Xavier, solid and unmistakable and suddenly the air felt heavier.

Joe was there now, standing just behind him. Close enough that Xavier could probably feel the shift in space before he even turned around.

Xavier paused, some instinct telling him something was off. Then he turned and stopped cold.

Joe didn’t say a word at first. He just stood there—calm, unmoving, looking profoundly unimpressed. His sunglasses were still on, but the message was crystal clear: You know exactly what you’re doing, and you need to stop.

“Whoa…” Xavier blurted, half-laughing. “No way, you’re Joe Burrow!” He grinned like he’d just bumped into his favorite celebrity at a steakhouse, completely oblivious to the tension radiating off Joe. “Man, I’m a huge fan! Bro, this is crazy! I can’t believe you’re here!”

Joe didn’t smile. Didn’t blink. Just turned to the bartender and said, “Two waters.” His voice was calm—too calm—and he stayed exactly where he was, comfortably crowding Xavier’s space.

“So… what were we talking about?” Xavier asked, turning back to you with a grin like he’d just won some imaginary game of charm.

You stifled a laugh. “Um—oh you were saying something about how my boyfriend isn’t paying enough attention?”

Xavier snapped his fingers, clearly feeling bold again. “Yeah! I don’t know where ol’ dude is or if he’s even real, but he’s messing up right now. Are you sure you don’t want a drink? Or, you know… someone better to spend your time with?”

Joe’s eyebrows lifted behind his sunglasses, and his mouth twitched, not quite a smile, more like the ghost of one. “Someone better, huh?” His voice was mild, almost amused. “Yeah…wonder where she could find that.”

It took a second for Xavier to connect the dots. His face dropped like a cartoon character realizing they’re halfway off a cliff.

“Oh…shit,” he muttered, suddenly a lot less confident. “Listen, man, I didn’t know she was with you. No hard feelings, right?”

Joe leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “Doesn’t matter who she’s with,” he said quietly, the steady calm in his tone somehow more unsettling than if he’d been angry. “If a woman says no, you leave her alone. Whether her boyfriend’s a pro athlete or not.”

Xavier’s smile flickered and died. “Yeah…yeah, you’re right,” he stammered, already backing away. “Didn’t mean anything by it. My bad, man.”

Joe watched him disappear into the crowd like he was making sure he wouldn’t change his mind. Only once Xavier was out of sight did he turn back to you, sunglasses sliding down just enough for you to see his eyes.

“You okay?” he asked, voice softer now.

“Yeah,” you sighed, tension draining from your shoulders. “He was just…persistent.”

Joe exhaled through his nose, muttering, “Persistent gets people embarrassed.”

You laughed quietly, leaning into his side. “You know, you’re kinda scary when you’re calm.”

Joe shrugged, completely unaffected. “It’s efficient.”

You smiled, slipping your arm around his waist. “And hot. Thanks for stepping in.”

“Always,” Joe said simply. Then he grabbed the two waters from the bar, handing one to you. “Now drink this,” he added, “I know you’re not ready to head out yet so I need you to hydrate.”

“Whatever you say, boss.” You respond, taking a sip and leaning into him.

The night out had been a blast—the club buzzing with energy, the lights flashing in time with the music. But as the group made their way back to the house, you felt the familiar weight of exhaustion and the ache in your head from the drinks. You weren’t too far gone, but you were definitely feeling the effects of a good time.

Joe had kept a watchful eye the entire night, noticing the subtle shift in your mood as the evening wound down. When you all got back to the house, it was clear you were ready to crash. Your energy was starting to dip, and he was already prepared.

“Hey, let’s get you upstairs,” Joe said gently, his hand finding your back as they walked toward the stairs. You slipped your arm around his waist, leaning into him just a bit more than usual.

“You’re carrying my shoes? How sweet.” You said, a sleepy grin tugging at your lips.

Joe smirked, his expression cool but with a hint of affection. “Wouldn’t want you to break your ankle on the stairs.”

“I think I can manage,” you teased, though you didn’t fight him when he practically carried you up the last few steps.

Once you reached the top, Joe pushed the door open to your shared room, making sure you were settled before heading to the bathroom.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back,” Joe said, heading downstairs.

You nodded, mentally preparing yourself for the journey of getting ready for bed. He returned shortly with a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers, handing them to you with a quiet, “take these.”

You took the pills, downing the water quickly, before letting out a small sigh of relief. “Thanks,” you murmured, eyes closing for a second. “I’m gonna need this for tomorrow…”

“You’re gonna need more than that,” Joe said, grabbing the Gatorade from the nightstand. “Drink some of this too.”

You shot him a half-smile, letting him help you sit up a little more as you sipped the Gatorade. “Thank you for always taking care of me. Not just tonight but…every night.”

“It’s my second job. And it arguably pays better” Joe said, his tone still calm, his voice laced with affection. It was just who he was, always looking out for you.

After you finished the drink, he handed you a soft towel. “Come on, let’s get that makeup off.”

You scooted over, pulling herself into a seated position on the edge of the bed. Joe stood beside you, a steady presence as he gently started wiping off your mascara. His movements were slow and careful, making sure he wasn’t too rough, his focus entirely on you.

“Okay, now you’re all set,” he said softly, tossing the wipes in the trash before turning toward the closet. “Pajamas. You good with just something comfy?”

“No,” you said, grinning. “I’m on vacation, I need something cute. You’re picking.”

Joe raised an eyebrow at you, a little surprised, but he didn’t argue. He walked to the closet, searching for something cute, but simple enough that you’d be comfortable. He picked out a soft set of matching shorts and a loose, flowy top.

“Here,” he said, holding them up. “This good?”

You made a small sound of approval. “Perfect.”

Joe turned to let you change, standing by the door to give you space but still staying close, like he always did. When you were done, you crawled into bed, and he helped pull the covers up over you.

He stood next to the bed for a moment, just looking at you. There was something about you —about how you trusted him, how you let him take care of you. His heart softened, but he didn’t show it.

“You’re the best boyfriend I’ve ever had, you know that?” You said, your voice a little sleepy but filled with sincerity. “You’re gonna be a really good husband one day.”

Joe felt a lump form in his throat. He didn’t know what to say at first, because in that moment, it hit him harder than ever: he could see it. The future. With you. The ring that sat waiting for him in his desk drawer in Cincinnati wasn’t just a thing he’d bought on a whim. He’d been thinking about it for a while now, and your words just made it that much more real.

“Get some sleep,” he said, his voice steady, betraying none of the emotion rolling around in his chest. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You smiled up at him sleepily. “You always are.”

Joe leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, thinking about how you’d touched parts of his heart and soul he didn’t even know existed. He didn’t need to say anything more. His actions spoke louder than anything he could put into words.

“Goodnight,” he whispered.

“Goodnight,” you murmured back, your eyes fluttering closed.

And as he stood there for a moment longer, watching you settle into the blankets, Joe’s thoughts drifted to the future. He didn’t know how he could possibly put how you make him feel into a few meaningful sentences. He didn’t know exactly what day he’d ask you, but he knew he would. And when the time came, he’d be ready.

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x you #joe burrow fanfic #nfl imagine

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midnightshindig · 4 months ago

Note

OMG your Cecil X reader writings are my favorite!! Can you please do some headcanons on Cecil being married to a superhero!female!reader who’s very bubbly, naive, and a bit incompetent. People see the two of them together and they are always so shocked they are married. Cecil would for sure be the type to say “what has my silly wife gotten to this time” with a straight face on a daily basis

Cecil x Superhero!F!Reader

Oof okay requests- i'm so normal after the last episode yeah man I am chilllll

thank you for the request!!

hcs under the cut

Cecil is relatively at peace with his lot in life

He has a routine, he has a purpose, he's got people who depend on him and that's important.

He does important work and gets appreciated for it

But a man has to have a hobby

and lucky for him, he found the best of hobbies in the best of women

When you joined the GotG, it was instant sparks

You were so refreshing, a true breath of fresh air compared to the mess he'd been cleaning up his whole career

With you it wasn't "is Y/n going to start a coupe?" or "Is Y/n going to cause irreversible damage and cause a lot of casualties?" It was just a matter of seeing what you'd gotten into

Honestly, this whole superhero thing was a hobby for you as well

Your ability: Cartoon Logic, is relatively OP, allowing you to get into all types of mischief

The only stipulation to your powers is that they only work as part of a punchline, so you have to be reaaaaal funny to actually use your abilities.

So Cecil will hear about you pieing supervillains in the face with hidden detonators inside, comedically exploding your enemies from

And he can't help but sigh wistfully

You add a touch of whimsy to an otherwise fraught situation, you're always there to brighten his day

This expands to other things, not just fighting

You routinely hit Cecil with a zap handshake

or using hammer space to pull out random gifts and doo dads to give him, such as a flower or new tie clip

"Oh shit- Y/n, honey, I forgot my wallet..." he watches you, smiling

both of you know he only does this to watch you reach behind your back

your back which is bare except for the dress on your figure

and pull out a random fistful of cash from god knows where

"I got it!" you grin goofily, straightening out the bills and laying them on the table

You could probably end food insecurity, but that wouldn't be comedic, would it?

Cecil notices all your odd little mannerisms

humming to yourself, walking on your toes, the way you jingle when you walk and he can never discern which part of your outfit is making the noise

all the way down to the way you comedically squeak like a chew toy when a supervillain lands a hit on you

It's so hard to take your health seriously when you squeak oh my god-

Cecil over here at the GDA trying to keep a straight face

he only laughs because he ultimately knows you're fine and can take whoever it is on

You're a great dancer, following your fancy wherever it takes you and having a very graceful pattern of motion

Cecil had spy training when most people were out clubbing and learning these dance skills

He.... let's just say Robot dances smoother than Cecil.

but he loves the way you dance around the house, doing whatever it is you're doing that morning

You're always humming something or another under your breath and he's always mesmerized, trying to place the tune as you invent it

Cecil's favorite thing

and I mean his favorite thing at all

is when he's having a stressful day at work, but not something that he can throw himself into

too many supervillain attacks, too much paperwork, so much to do

and then Donald or some assistant will come into his office and inform him that you've gotten into an altercation with a supervillain

he turns on his personal tv to watch the fight in the background, amused by the sounds of you walloping some poor guy for trying to kill the president or rob a bank or something

it relieves him to be able to take a mental break from his work to see you on the field

two people who love each other working for the same ideal

it warms his heart

#invincible #invincible show #invincible fanfic #invincible season 3 #invincible x reader #cecil stedman #invincible cecil #cecil stedman x reader #cecil invincible #cecil x reader

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hotheadedhero · 1 month ago

Text

Preoccupied (18+)

AN: Is Bay Raph constantly on my mind? Yes. Should you be on his mind constantly? DAMN STRAIGHT! I need not say more 😘

(NOTE: I had to delete the last post and reupload because for some reason it wasn't coming up on Tumblr under any of the tags. If the world doesn't need my smut just tell me now 😭)

Raphael x Reader

All characters are aged up

Warnings: NSFW, smutty content, 18+, MDNI, swears (though that's probably the least of your concerns in a fic like this), dirty thoughts, bordering on obsessive, masturbation, angsty because, damn it, I can't help myself, this got weirdly biblical for some reason, idk how to tag nsfw content, an insomniac trying to grammar, my first official smut so apologies if it stinks :'D

You’re a damned distraction, and Raphael doesn’t know what to do about it. He isn’t without his distractions. In fact, he’s classically known to get torn up in his head over things, especially when there’s an injustice thickly rooted in whatever nameless problem ails him. You, on the other hand, agitate him in ways he wishes not to be true. You’re everywhere he goes, just not physically, like a phantom limb - a subjugator who has conquered his very being.

Many times, over and over, he has tried to categorise you, label you, so he can file you away and forget; anything in an attempt to get you out of his mind, as abnormally pragmatic as it is for him to go such a route. Are you a friend? Best friend? Something more? He bristles at the thought. ‘More’ is dangerous. ‘More’ is a bridge he’s not sure he wants to cross because of how deep this goes, how dark it is.

He catches himself thinking about you at the most inopportune moments. When he’s supposed to be strategising with his brothers, he’s replaying a conversation with you in his head, dissecting your words, searching for hidden meanings. He sees you in the flickering neon lights of the city, a fleeting silhouette blending into the urban tapestry of this concrete jungle. When he’s meant to be watching a game, he’s picturing your hands intertwined with his, your voice fluttering out his name, your body…

You’re not just a distraction, you’re a disruption, and the universe is hellbent on finding ways to toy with his teetering lucidity.

Grumbled curses and wet footsteps can be heard long before you’re seen, but silent curiosities would have been better left when you eventually appear in the lair. Three of the four brothers find themselves around you, each snickering at the pressed spring that is your body. Your crossed arms only tighten further into themselves, lips pulling in between your teeth at their lack of sympathy, but then you remember, they are boys.

Leo is the first to compose himself, matching your exaggerated stance with a raised grin. “You’re not looking very weather-appropriate.”

“I was up until about five minutes ago.” Your hands wipe away at your scrunched-up face. “One moment, sun.” You fling them down, the water hitting the ground with an offensive slap. “The next, a bunch of angry clouds piss on me.”

Laughing semi-heartedly, you loosely gesture at yourself, but dilated pupils behind red cloth have been trained on you the moment you walked in. Head-to-toe, you’re soaked: your clothes stick to you in a way that feels intrusive, accentuating every curve and contour he's learned to admire from a distance, only daring to steal glimpses when you’re not looking. The damp fabric clings to you like a lifeline, his of which is fleeting, and it just highlights your shape, each detail so clear, too clear. It shatters the fragile walls he’s fought to keep intact, a crude violation of the mental boundaries he's desperately trying to maintain. Raphael can’t stand it, and he loathes how the rain has matted your baby hairs to your forehead, a small, insignificant feature compared to the rest, and yet it leaves you looking the most exposed.

In the hazy realm of conversation woven between you and his brothers, he drifts, utterly unaware now. He thinks he catches a flash of Donnie hurrying away, yet the essence of it all slips through his fingers like mist. His form is anchored to this corner, while his thoughts wander far beyond the grasp of the present moment. He wants to lick the rain off your cheek and whisper unspoken secrets he never knew he could keep, what he’s been aching to do to you for so long. He can almost picture how you would taste against his tongue, how soft your skin would be compared to his calloused touch.

As his gaze drops out of focus, you inch closer, lowering to a crawl. Staring up through your lashes, you stop on your knees in front of him, eyes glazed with his deliverance and his destruction all at the same time. He can practically see everything from this angle, each wet crease of material grasping closely onto your body, impersonating one of those marble statues that seem impossible to make by hand. Your damp palms press into his thighs to hoist yourself up, the cold doing little to cool him, doing the opposite, in fact - warm puffs of air feathering against his starved face. His breath shortens, but he does nothing. This should stop; he can’t find it in himself to press that big red button, but this needs to stop. As you close in on him, lips ghost over his own with expectant sighs mixing between each other, and then-

The towel draped over your shoulders is the fire blanket to his perverse absorption; he’s pulled back into reality, where he is, but it doesn’t completely snuff out the embers. His eyes have had a taste of you now, a sample of the meal that he hungers so hopelessly for. You glance around, your gaze lingering on Raph for a fraction of a second before panning away, and he jolts, like a live wire has been threaded through his veins. In that second, he thinks you know, he thinks you’ve caught a glimpse into his vulgar mind, and he expects you to run off, but you don’t. Instead, you pull the towel closer and laugh at something Mikey says, the short spit of eye contact already falling from your awareness whilst it nails into his with a hammer.

Raphael’s fists clench under the table, knuckles paling beneath the wraps. You have no idea. He's thankful for that but it almost pisses him off that you have no clue just how much you invade his everything. He doesn’t quite know when this all started, but he hopes to God it has an end because he’s not sure how much longer he can handle it.

There's a deep shame that comes with these daydreams, an itch that burns within the lowest parts of his belly every time his mind so much as wanders. Unfortunately, the image of you, any image of you, scorches him worse than that guilt, which is why he can't resist those long nights of rutting against his pillow, endless scenarios flicking behind his eyes like a roll of film that goes on forever. There were many reasons that he was thankful for finally getting his own room, more so now than ever. It doesn’t matter what you do, he finds himself in the same place by the end of each day. There’d be the occasional brush of arms, a weightless touch that would burden his skin with gooseflesh, or moments when he’d manage to make you laugh, and the sound itself would drive a tremble through his shell. He thought this was an innocuous crush to begin with, all signs pointed that way, and then it happened.

Shit.

He remembers how this all started now.

It was one of those instances when you didn’t want to go home, too tired after a particularly harrowing shift at work. You had gotten a decent amount of TLC at the lair, but arguably too good, as you found yourself drooping on the couch. The boys would have happily escorted you back home, even volunteering to carry your sluggish form if that’s what it meant, to which you threw out some languidly-humoured remark about them trying to kick you out. Not even. Not ever.

“Take my bed,” Raph had offered without a second thought.

The proposition felt harmless at the time, and his intentions were so. There was no way he was going to let you sleep on the worn mound of springs and pillows that had endured the weight of four mutant behemoths for so many years. He could take it for the night, no big deal. It wouldn’t have been the first time, and truthfully, he was more than willing to sacrifice his comfort for yours. He hadn't even considered the implications of you sleeping in his bed, nor did he think of the consequences: this seed of yearning that would be planted that night to bloom and blossom into the twisted, prickly vine that now chokes his thoughts.

You, bless your oblivious heart, had accepted readily, a tired smile gracing your lips. "As long as you’re sure, Raph. I don't want to put you out."

"Positive," he'd confirmed, a little too quickly perhaps, and then retreated to grab a blanket and pillow.

That night, he barely slept. The couch was uncomfortable, sure, but there was something else: something that nagged at him. He couldn’t quite place his finger on it. His first thought was the lack of activity from the day, barely any thugs had tried their hand at disturbing the peace, or whatever peaceful looks like for the streets of New York. Chances are, he was just restless from how many skulls he didn’t crack. Maybe not. At the time, he was stumped for an explanation, and that only secured his inability to suspend consciousness.

Before long, the early morning had arisen, and you along with it. Raphael’s failure to nod off meant he caught your freshly woken self tiptoeing out of his room. He made no effort to greet you, playing into the idea that he was genuinely asleep as you thought him to be, some parts convinced that he might have been. You slid through the lair with a swan-like equanimity he didn’t want to disturb; each clip of your shoes against the floor calculated and measured to soften the blow of your steps. He probably would have woken up were he soundly snoozing, but the attempt was still appreciated. Raphael never regarded himself as the type to silently observe, to pick up on the little details with such ease, but he had found that he was a little more introspective about these things since you’d been around.

Once you had disappeared completely, he rose from his “slumber” and slipped into his room. He figured he’d be able to get at least a couple of hours' sleep under his belt. He was very wrong about this, however. Upon entering his room, he quickly realised that sleep would be much harder to come by now. The lacklustre day had left him restless, that’s what he kept telling himself at the time, but that wasn’t the real reason. The real reason was the apparitional warmth of your presence on his bed, and if he tried really hard, he’d almost be able to perfectly emulate your body lying in his company. Moreover, it was the lingering scent, faint as it was, that had truly undone him - sweet, undeniably yours, intoxicating. Slowly, he had descended atop the mattress on his side, his cheek brushing against the pillow that you had previously lain on. He could picture you in his place, as you had just been minutes before, curled up in his blankets, comfortable in his space.

He inhaled deeply, committing the fragrance to memory. Succumbing to this was crossing a precarious line. He thinks he knew that, but he couldn’t help himself. A thick rope had taken hold of him without his knowledge, narrowing its taught breach the more he let himself surrender. As he took another heavy breath in, his hand crept down to the beating, almost painful throb that had somehow alluded him until that moment.

This was wrong. Perverted. He was taking advantage, in a way, of your trust, of the virtuous act of offering you comfort when you needed it. You wouldn’t want this. You wouldn’t want him thinking of you this way. And yet, he just could not stop. The essence of you clung to his sheets, whispering promises he had no right to entertain.

A groan escaped his throat, muffled by the pillow he was now pushing into his face, practically suffocating himself in the hints of you that were lingering deep within it. He imagined you hearing him, recoiling in disgust, the trust in your eyes replaced with disappointment, with something akin to fear. The thought was a sharp, painful stab, but still, it wasn't enough to halt his sudden fit of impure mania. He was too far gone, caught in the undertow of his appetite.

He came quickly, shame immediately washing over him in a freezing wave. The pleasure was fleeting, unsatisfying, tainted by the knowledge of his transgression. He lay there, panting, the scent of you now heavy and cloying, no longer intoxicating but strangling. He wanted to scrub himself clean, to erase the moment, to rewind and never offer his bed in the first place.

In his post-nut clarity, it hits him, the disgrace of it all: how badly he wants you, how desperate he is to feel the weight of your body on his, how much he needs every plush piece of skin to become tainted under his hands.

The days that followed were torture; worse than torture if there’s a word for it. He knew he had to avoid you, at least for a while. There was no way he could bear to face you, to see the innocent trust in your eyes. He needed time to process, figure out how to reconcile the image he had of himself with the reality of his actions, but any moment of closure would be met with opposition. Annoyingly, small things: a hair clip in the dojo, a book on the kitchen counter, a faint smudge of lip gloss on a discarded coffee cup. In your absence, these tiny objects served as landmines to his crime, a reminder of what he had done and what he couldn’t have.

Instances in which you were present to share the same air as him, however, were worse, and they still are. If you’re reading, he’s watching the curve of your neck. When he hears you laugh, he hears a calling that simply doesn’t exist. He may catch you licking your lips when they dry, an inattentive habit that makes him envious of your tongue. Each one of these details slots into a catalogue, stored away in the private chambers of his mind to be revised during those lonely nights.

Even his epiphany about stepping back and admiring from afar has been contaminated. Productive revelations have been spoiled and replaced with this thing he doesn’t know how to name. That act of defiling a space you occupied had undeniably tarnished any interaction with you, and in doing so, he had tarnished himself.

He’s a terrible person. People don’t have thoughts like this about their friends. Or, if they do, they’d at least stand a better chance of enacting these thoughts. He should just exonerate himself from you entirely, retreat to the shadows as he has always been taught to. The temptation itself almost makes him laugh. That would imply he has the will strong enough to remove himself from your life, a will he no longer possesses now that you’re in his.

Why can’t it be so easy?

That morning that started this all, something inside him had irrevocably broken. A dam had burst, unleashing a torrential wave of depravity he never knew existed within him. Before that, he’d just thought of you as someone who occasionally wracked his nerves in confusing ways if the circumstances were right. Now? You are everything: his obsession, his undoing, his most profound and concealed secret.

If only this were a simple crush, he could settle for that. It would come with its own problems, he knows, but he could at least sustain it with more prudence; deal with it.

He remembers a time, before you, when his nights were his own, when he could lay his head down after a job well done and bid the day farewell. His skin twitches if he tries to keep any urge at bay, fever lurches behind his eyes any time they close, and if by some miracle he can find his way to sleep without giving in, you all but manage to torment his dreams, too. Vivid, explicit, and utterly mortifying. He’ll wake up drenched in sweat, heart pounding, and worst of all, with morning wood just to add more to this mess for atrocities' sake. He really shouldn’t be thinking about you in this way. You’re a friend, that’s the operative word he strains to keep in mind, but his body, his innate calling, doesn’t care about propriety.

It’s especially bad when he wishes he could practise his older brother’s restraint and condition himself to keep you out of his head. Leonardo’s calm, almost serene detachment is a lifestyle away from his turbulent fixations. Leo, the picture of divine patience, can seemingly shut off any unwanted thought with the flick of a wrist, whilst Raphael is a wildfire, and you the kindling. It’s not as though the routine tactics of his brother would serve him aid in this situation, anyway. Meditation has never done him any good, and it’d only give you the space to tangle yourself up in his imagination again. Instead, he buries himself in his workouts. He tries to sweat it out, tire himself to the point of mindless exhaustion, but the sweat itself stings, and the ache in his muscles is a feeble attempt to dull the sharper ache in his shell.

When he isn’t riddled with pliable what-ifs and maybes, when there is a moment that these lascivious infections decide to leave him be, he has the camera peering down at himself. How long can he actually keep this up? How long will it be before he cracks, before he says or does something he’ll live to regret, regret more than what he’s already done in the dark corners no one dares tread? He’s a ticking time bomb, and you, naively unaware, are holding the detonator.

One way or another, you’re in everything he does, absentminded things like fiddling with his sai; the touch of cool steel against his palms imitates the delicate curve of what he imagines your jawline to feel like. Even the harsh rasp of his father’s voice during sparring matches can't silence the whisper of your name, a prohibited prayer that lingers in his ears. He can't keep you out of his head. He hates it, this constant, burning awareness of you – a forbidden fruit he longs to taste but knows he can't. The self-disgust, the guilt, the painful longing; all of it is a cruel torment, a self-inflicted wound he can't seem to staunch.

He wants to scream, especially on these restless nights, to shatter the silence and break free from the invisible bonds that chain him to this impossible, unbearable infatuation. Yet, all he can do is lie there, a prisoner of his desires, and you visit him once again, not as the friend he knows, the one who laughs easily and quips back with no effort, but as a vision of his indecency. Your smile is a siren's call, eyes a bottomless reservoir of promise. You say things he can only ever dream of hearing from your lips.

This is a fantasy he’s played out innumerable times, but each rerun feels like the first.

You lie back, sprawled across his bed like a fallen angel. Is he your rescuer, or the bastard who shot you down just so he could have you? He can fool himself into thinking this is a mutual salvation, but his jealousy of the stars will have you dragged into the pit with him, where he can savour your divine spirit all to himself. You would never willingly step away from heaven’s light to meet him, of course you wouldn’t, but at least he can pretend, even for a short while, that he has somehow convinced you to fall into this madness with him. He can delude himself that he isn’t quite so alone, and so he follows the illusion of you and takes, moving like a man possessed, lacking dignity, lacking regard.

He stops fighting these premonitions now. He thinks that if he wholeheartedly appeases this greed, abandons all virtue to the fever dream that paints you as his willing partner, that he’ll be set free. He lets the imagined warmth of your skin banish the cold reality of his isolation. He allows the phantom scent of your hair to fill his airless room, drowning voluntarily so that he can fall to the ocean’s depths where he may finally find peace.

This dance with delirium, sometimes culminating for hours, eventually has to conclude, however. Your mirage blurs into nothing the closer he gets to the end, hoping with a crossed jaw that this will be the last time he sullies your good name inside his fist.

It never is.

No matter how many times he relieves himself to your notion, it never alleviates the want, the need, the dependency that’s been conceived on this idea of having you. It only makes it worse. His stomach empties more each time, and his head bloats with new possibilities just to mock him. Every instance in which he falls victim to his imagination, he staggers closer to Hell, and Earth’s core will burn him alive long before he ever admits to the degeneracy of his vestige’s mind. This false impression of reality is much sweeter, bitter in its aftertastes, but easier, a dark bubble without complication, without an outward looking in to tell him how wrong this is.

You’re a damned distraction, and at the cost of his sanity, Raphael can’t find it in himself to do anything about it.

This is kind of an idea I coined off of @moxfirefly (called Obsesión on AO3) when I realised the similarities halfway into writing, so go read that!! It's a good one yo 🙏

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grandline-fics · 7 months ago

Note

Could you maybe do Ace and Shanks with getting caught and maybe some jealousy?

DESCRIPTION: Prompt: Getting Caught with being jealous

WARNINGS: some suggestiveness, jealousy but mostly fluff(?)

CHARACTERS: Shanks

WORDS: 1,515

A/N: Hi there! Thank you for this request. I'm still not feeling great but wanted to write. I was only able to get something put together for Shanks for this request but hopefully I'll be able to put something for Ace out at another date. I decided to do it more that Shanks got caught being jealous as a little twist on the prompt and I hope you enjoyed what I came up with

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

You knew something was up, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it or really place why you knew but deep down, something inside you knew Shanks was up to something. He hadn't even done anything yet that you knew of but when you watched him return to the ship after a night of drinking at the bar your eyes immediately sharpened as you sensed the change. Despite the charming captain laughing and talking away to the others as they all drew closer to the Red Force you couldn’t shake the feeling that something else was simmering below the surface of his outward warmth. You nearly felt the need to pull your jacket tighter around you body even though it was a pleasant summer’s night. The only thing you could compare it to was the stories of people being able to sense a storm was imminent with no signs. You just knew Shanks was plotting something and when he looked up and smiled at you with a lazy wave your suspicion only grew that he’d drag you into it somehow as well.

You greeted each of the drunken crew and mentally took note to ensure no one had gotten lost and the others hadn’t noticed. With a warm smile you watched them make their ways to their desired sleeping places for the night, whether they actually made it to their rooms or not was a separate matter entirely. On more than one occasion members of the Red Hair Pirates- yourself included- would wake after a fun night of drinking and find themselves in the strangest of places. When the last of the returning party disappeared you glanced out of the corner of your eye to see Shanks draw closer until he was behind you. You tried to fight a smile when you felt him nuzzle his head against your neck and wrap his arm around you loosely. “Not turning in Red?”

“What? Go to a cold bed all on my own? Seems boring.” You could feel Shanks’ breath and lips tickle against you and instinctively twisted in his hold but made no real effort to move away, used to his antics. You were still suspicious however, and that feeling only grew when you could immediately tell Shanks wasn’t drunk. He’d had a drink or two you suspected but not what he normally would and given the state of the others, you felt worry begin to twist in your stomach. You were about to ask him what was wrong when he moved closer, his hand slowly dragging to settle on your hip while his lips trailed up to your ear. “Missed you tonight.”

“You know I’d have gone with you if I wasn’t on watch duty tonight. Speaking of I need to get back to it.” You tried to reassure your Captain and lover lightly but his actions and your suspicions that something was going on was throwing your mind in confusing circles and your focus began to slip once more when Shanks’ deep laugh rumbled in his chest and the vibrations carried through your frame.

“Watch duty’s just formality for us though. You mostly just sit back and relax because you know no one’d try anything with us.” Shanks spoke confidently, smirking against the shell of your ear before he started to kiss down your jaw and neck feeling your breathing hitch and body suppress the small shudder. “This is our territory. This is an Emperor’s ship. Only a fool would think they could compete…that they could take something from me.”

“Shanks ah-!” You were cut off when he unexpectedly switched the feather-light kisses against your skin to abruptly bite against your pulse point and soothe it immediately after with another kiss. Except compared to the others this one was drawn out just a little longer. You turned finally to fully face Shanks only to yelp when he wasted no time in lifting you to sit on the railing so he could stand between your legs and continue his desired path of trailing kisses along the column of your throat newly exposed to him. “What happened out there?”

“Like I said I missed you.” Shanks explained tilting his head back to look at you. While you didn’t doubt the desire in his eyes for you and while you weren’t telling him to stop you weren’t getting the full story and in order to get to the bottom of it all you had to be strong and firm. With a lot of restraint you placed one hand on Shanks’ wrist pausing him as his hand was beginning to snake under your shirt while the other lightly cupped under his chin to halt his attempt to finally claim your lips against his. As much as you hated stopping him, you couldn’t deny the amusement you felt seeing the all powerful Captain, and one of the four Emperor’s of the sea, Red Hair Shanks pout.

“Talk to me, love.” You requested softly, your words gentle and sweet but more compelling to Shanks than anything in the world. Anything you wished for was yours, he’d even give up his other arm if it meant you got what you wanted. Secretly he’d hoped you wouldn’t notice the tension in his body and twisting thoughts that had soured his mood but had gone to great lengths to hide but that’s what made you you. The perception you had for him was unparalleled. Shanks watched you lean in to place a tender peck on his lips. Your ability to play dirty and lower his guard was also unparalleled. “Please?”

“I overheard something in the bar.” Shanks began, the scowl growing on his face as he remembered. “Seems you’re very popular with the locals. One in particular is the eldest son of the town’s mayor.”

“Wait…” You began, a smile of pure disbelief growing on your face. “Shanks…were you jealous of some civilian having a crush on me?”

“I guess.”

“But you don’t get jealous. You’ve practically sat back and laughed when I’ve turned people down.” You lost count over the years of how many times people have tried to seduce you and Shanks only for them all to be let down firmly. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt jealous over Shanks’ admirers and this was a first for you, seeing your lover jealous. “What was so different this time compared to the others?”

“I guess because I could actually picture you with someone like that. Seeing you have that kind of life.”

“Married to a future mayor?” You asked letting your thumb rub a soothing circle against his hand still in your hold in the hopes it’d reassure him. “I can’t picture that.”

“Maybe not the person exactly, but the life you’d have. Safe, comfortable-”

“Boring.” You interjected with a soft smile. “I did the civilian thing before we met remember? Not for me so you can relax. You provide for me in ways those locals can only dream of Shanks. Promise I’m only yours.”

“Sure about that?” Shanks asked, his own effortless grin appearing and you could tell his worries had lifted thanks to your reassurances. Now the playfulness and confidence that you knew so well had returned to Shanks, allowing you to breathe easier. “He had a lot of coin and lives in a manor.”

“Oh well in that case, I’ll go introduce myself.” You joked, pretending to turn so you could leap off of the ship’s railing and head into town and see the desirable suitor and his manor for yourself. Instead you let out a yelp when Shanks had you lifted with ease and thrown over his broad shoulder and began striding across the deck to head to his and your private quarters.

“Nah, I don’t think you will.” Shanks chuckled underneath you as he lightly kicked the door open, carrying you inside. Now in the lit room you caught sight of your reflection and your eyes widened. In the short amount of time Shanks had been at work on the deck had already caused marks to show against your neck.

“Shanks!” You lectured as he lightly tossed you onto the bed and joined you, leaning in close with his eyes gleaming with the same desire as before. “Look at my neck. What were you thinking?”

“Don’t be mad, love…the jealousy made me do it.” Shanks explained innocently with no sign of remorse in his eyes as he looked at his handiwork. If anything he looked proud and you shuddered when you caught that familiar feeling overcome you once more and your heart skipped when Shanks smirked at you. “In fact I think I’m feeling jealous again.”

As Shanks’ mouth finally moved to your lips and the feeling of his hand and body against you working in tandem with the dizzying kiss the only coherent thought you could muster was that of course Shanks would manage to make the fact he was caught being jealous work in his favour in the best way possible and you were not complaining in the slightest.

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa

#one piece #one piece scenario #one piece fic #one piece imagines #one piece fanfiction #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece shanks #shanks x you #shanks x reader #red haired shanks x you #red haired shanks x reader #red haired shanks #akagami no shanks #red hair shanks #shanks #op shanks #shanks one piece

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devotionlest · 1 month ago

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*Epically punch a hole through your door to unlock it then proceeds to crashes through the the wall right next to the door* Hey can I request the survivors thoughts on the new Survivor reader who has the abilities of a Fisher?

The plot Idea or whatever you want to call this: the survivors are happy that you are around because they no longer just have to eat pizza or chicken but they are worried that when the trials (idk what they're called in lore) start you might not last that long but luckily for them you were able to take care of yourself and be a major help like: (these are just ideas for the abilities you don't have to use them) they can use their fishing rod to pull the killer or the survivors near them like Isabel's fishing rod from Smash, set a cage trap, and maybe have a harpoon for self-defense.

🎣 survivors x reader w/ fisher abilities 🐟

generally, the idea of a new survivor itself was exciting for everyone. it certainly wasn't every day that someone new fell victim to being (unfortunately) dragged into this hellish realm, so they were rather stoked and intrigued to meet you in the cabin face-to-face for the first time.

it wasn't overwhelming at all. in fact, it was very peaceful and welcoming. everyone took turns asking basic questions and greeting you, enthusiastically taking their time to get to know you. and you got along with them well! though, the most common question that everyone took particular interest in: what exactly do you do..?

it was quite a surprise to see you actually pulling up into your first round carrying around fishing equipment with an unreadable expression on your face as if this was an every day thing. some even expressed their worry that they fear you wouldn't last very long without their protection. you insisted that you could handle yourself, so everyone decided there was no time for questions and instead should be busy making it through the next hour.

as the round went on and you expressed more of your abilities, your fellow teammates eventually caught on. elliot took particular interest in your healing capability, incredibly relieved that there was another person who could help him help out everyone else. he even makes sure to spare you a slice even if you aren't very low, just making sure you that have enough to get through the rest of the round. if anyone knows how stressful it is to chase people down to heal them, it's definitely him.

not only that, but you could also lure the killer in with bait right into an efficiently placed trap! a few people seemed to favor this little ability of yours the most, using the killer's moment of weakness to slash their daggers and swords.

builderman and guest always give you a pat on the shoulder for your proficiency, constantly cracking fish related dad jokes that never fail to make you smile despite how cringe they can be. 007n7 can only force himself a smile at these jokes as well, mentally adding them to the list of 'dad jokes' he's been keeping track of for future reference.

the fact that you can do so much with your limited amount of supplies is mind boggling to everyone, basically covering every field of survival.

two time, though, takes high interest in your method. usually sticking by you during the rather calm rounds to question you. unfortunately, their touchy tendencies driven by curiosity never do seem to die down, always poking at your gear and asking you to demonstrate your abilities personally for them, only because they're so mesmerized by how easily you can swing your rod around without struggle.

chance is also one to tag along during exceptionally slow rounds, comparing the concept of fishing to the gambling he enjoys doing in his free time. at first, you thought it was kind of a stretch in comparison, but the two of you actually ended up forming a friendly bond over that conversation.

what appeared to be seemingly useless skills proved to be so much more than some had thought. despite the silly concept and initial judgement, the survivors trust in your ability to fend for yourself, praising you relentlessly by the end of the round for your helpful aid!

post script: this idea is really cute & i hope i portrayed it well enough for your standards! sorry only a few survivors are included here..i unintentionally rushed this a bit

#roblox #forsaken #roblox x reader #forsaken x reader #two time x reader #007n7 x reader #elliot x reader #builderman x reader #guest x reader #chance x reader #shedletsky x reader #if you squint really hard

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muletia · 8 months ago

Text

[tfp] optimus prime x human!reader

summary: you feel insecure about your boring life. optimus is quick to make you feel better about yourself

cw: angst, fluff, yapper (reader) x listener (optimus), optimus is fucking obsessed with you, bad writing, silliness

word count: 1033

The last thing you expected to see after leaving work was a massive red-and-blue truck parked perfectly at the curb, just a few meters from the entrance. You’d recognize that color scheme and vehicle type anywhere — someone had come to visit. You didn’t even try to hide the smile that crept onto your lips.

"Is that your boyfriend?"

Your coworker’s voice pulled you out of your brief trance. You’d completely forgotten she was even there, though just moments ago, the two of you had been making small talk.

"Yup."

"You never mentioned him."

Because he’s a damn alien, you almost blurted, but you bit your tongue in time.

"He’s a long-haul truck driver, so he’s rarely in Jasper. Hey, thanks for the recipe, but I’ve gotta go. See you tomorrow!"

After a quick hug, you headed briskly toward the truck. She’d surely grill you for details tomorrow, and you’d need to have your excuses ready, but that was a problem for later. You had far better things to do now.

You opened the passenger door to avoid drawing attention to an empty driver seat and climbed inside. The familiar interior immediately put you at ease, and when the owner of the truck spoke, butterflies that had been dormant in your stomach suddenly came to life. You’d known him for years, yet his voice alone still made you feel like a giddy teenager. The perfect man, as it turned out, was actually an extraterrestrial being.

"Greetings, my dearest."

"Hi, love. To what do I owe this visit?"

Optimus started the engine and took the route toward the base. You knew it by heart, having traveled it countless times with Bumblebee or Bulkhead when you needed an escort. Yet, despite being your partner, Optimus rarely had time for dates. You didn’t hold it against him; you fully understood the duties that came with being a leader. But there were moments, many intimate moments when Optimus wished he could spend more time with you. He wanted to be there for you through every good and bad moment, but he couldn’t, and it tore at his spark.

"Front lines have been quiet for now. I wanted to take the opportunity to see you."

You reached out and caressed the panel in front of you. You didn’t miss the momentary, louder hum of the engine. Adorable.

Out of habit, you started recounting all the work and life events that had happened during your time apart. You summarized the movies that had intrigued you, bored you, or changed your brain chemistry. You talked about books and poetry, focusing mostly on those he probably would enjoy as well. Optimus then offered his thoughts, sharing his perspective and making a mental list of works to study when he has the time, so he could discuss them with you in depth later. Maybe, if he got lucky, you’d agree to analyze them together, curled up against his neck.

After catching up on the past few weeks, you naturally transitioned to today’s events, animatedly describing how a certain Cameron had gotten on your nerves.

"I asked him a few times to fix my work computer because, you know, it’s his job, but no! Every time, he came up with some stupid excuse just to avoid—"

"Optimus," Ratchet’s voice broke in over the radio, interrupting your rant. "I hate to disturb your rendezvous, but your presence would be helpful at the base. No rush, though."

Oh, right. For a moment, you’d forgotten about your partner’s responsibilities, bombarding him with stories about work that didn’t even begin to compare with Optimus’s adventures. A pang of guilt hit you. The enthusiasm drained away, replaced by a sudden self-resentment. Instantly, the story that had been the highlight of your day shrank to the size of an atom, meaning absolutely nothing in the grander scale of beings you shared a relationship with. It wasn’t the first time these thoughts had interrupted your fun, but you’d never voiced them out loud, burying them deep within. Too bad they always found their way back to the surface.

You hoped Optimus hadn’t noticed your sudden change in body language, but deep down, you knew he had. He always did. Always perceptive and caring.

Trying to mask your discomfort, you gave a small smile.

"Hi, Ratchet!" you greeted.

The medic grumbled something under his breath.

"I am on my way to the base," Optimus reported, and the connection cut off.

"[Your Name]," he began, his tone changing. From the usual military formality, it softened into a gentle warmth. He’d seen right through you, as always. "Is everything alright?"

You didn’t want to perform tough. Not today, not in such a raw and tender moment.

"No. I don’t think so? It’s just… in your life, everything is so grand and significant; there’s always some action. My workday is interesting if a bird lands on the windowsill by my desk. Sometimes, I feel like my stories bore you because, let’s be honest, they’re boring. My job is boring."

"I understand. I am sorry you feel that way. It was never my intention to belittle you."

As always, he put all the blame on himself. You wished you could hug him, to take away at least a fraction of the guilt he carried every day on his shoulders.

"I know," you sighed. "You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry for getting all worked up."

"There is no need to apologize. I am grateful that you opened up to me. Personally, I do not think your life is uninteresting. It is yours and yours alone; no one else in the world experiences it in quite the same way. To me, your stories are unique, as they differ so drastically from the realities of my life. I wish you could think of them the same way—to be proud of who you are and what you represent."

"You always give me something to think about before bed," you laughed. "Thank you, love. I’ll try to work on myself."

"There are still a few Earth minutes before we reach the base," he informed you, and you raised an eyebrow. "Would you like to finish the story about Cameron?"

#transformers #transformers x reader #optimus prime x reader #optimus x reader #tfp #tfp optimus

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soangelbaby · 2 months ago

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love love love your writing 𖹭.ᐟ

idk if you've done this before or not and i missed it somehow but if you haven't could you maybe (only if you want ofc) write about how ur bro!rafe and dad!rafe are afterwards? like does he act like it didn't happen until it happens again, does he stay afterwards, does he see other people while also being with her?? your fics have given me so many thoughts and i'd love your insight

wtf nonnie tysm for picking my brain i literally luv u for thiss bc the psyche behind these characters is everything to me 😣 <33

bigbro!rafe ; at first, he ghosts. not completely, not physically — he’s still in the house, still around, still acting like the ‘normal’ big brother — but there’s a distance now... like he’s afraid of what he did… afraid of what he’ll do again. and sometimes you’ll catch him watching you from doorways, then quickly looking away. brushing past you in the kitchen but flinching like your skin might burn him.

but it doesn’t last. the silence makes him sick. the guilt festers into obsession. he starts spiraling inwards, convincing himself you wanted it, needed it. replaying the way you said yes, moans ringing in his ears, the way your eyes rolled back, the way he felt inside you, the way you clenched around him. he twists it all in his head until he believes you’re the one who ruined him… and now? he’s addicted.

he stays though. not right after the first time… he might disappear, go fuck someone else, try to scrub you out of his head. but he always comes back. and when he does? he’s softer than you’d expect. of course rough during, violent even, but after? he’s cradling your face. kissing your neck. whispering “you just make me crazy, sissy. i can’t stop thinking about you.” lingering like a shadow. like a secret wrapped around your throat. you’ll wake up and he’s already in your bed. he won’t say good morning. he’ll just pull you under him again like it’s the only thing keeping him sane…

dad!rafe ; oh, he’s a nightmare… he’s not leaving. he’d keep you close, keep you protected under his thumb, until it becomes second nature. he doesn’t feel guilty, no.. he acts like it should have been happened. this is rafe at his most twisted — like, you were born to be his. he’s waited, raised you to be soft and good and loyal. for him.

and if you cry? if you say “but you’re my dad”? he just wipes your tears and says, “and that’s why no one else will ever love you the way i do.” he might keep up appearances outside the house, trying not to get caught… but inside? he’ll walk into your room like he owns it. like he owns you. he’ll brush your hair while you’re studying, kiss your cheek, call you “my good girl” and stroke your thigh just out of sight.

but once he’s marked you, it’s hard for him to share. if he hooks up with anyone else, it’s a mental game. it’s about keeping you in your place, knowing he can still get whatever he wants from other women, but you are his real possession. no one compares. he’ll tell himself that he doesn’t need anyone else — he’s got all he needs right here with you. deep down though? he’s torn. torn between his need for you and the twisted sense of self-righteousness that comes with the control he has over you.

#𝜗𝜚 ─˚˖﹒୧ asks #i adoreee thisss #tw inc*st #daddy!rafe #dad!rafe #rafe cameron #bigbro!rafe #brother!rafe #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron x reader #nonnie #outerbanks rafe

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strawberrynightmere · 11 months ago

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heyyyy <3 can i request an andrew x virgin insecure reader? i feeln kind of angsty tday :')

if you do smut, id like to request him taking like readers virginity (no ashley, no incest.)

It took me a long while of thinking of whether I should write it or not.

I'm not very good at writing smut, but I hope this is good enough.

Headlock [Decay! Andrew x Fem! Reader]

Warning ⚠️ : dark content, toxic friendship(?) (Ashley), mentioned murder, sexual content/18+/nsft(?), I have no idea how the Decay route goes, but neither do you, so let's half-ass it. It had a plot, but that got dropped halfway. The title? I guess. Again, I'm not good at this.

A/n: it's not exactly as requested

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

How did you get involved in this? It all started when a 'parasite' was found in the buildings' water pipes and the inhabitants got quarantine. Only later did you find out that you were all being starved to death so your organs could be harvested.

Why you were still staying with the Graves siblings is a question you had no answer for. Was it because you three were criminals, or simply because you didn't want to be alone anymore? Maybe the quarantine did its toll on your mental wellbeing?

Who knows?

Andrew was nice, normal-ish, and chill person to be around. Maybe you caught some feelings for the guy, but let's be honest, compared to the crimes you committed with them, your "little" crush is the last thing to come to your mind.

And then there's Ashley...

She tends to be, how would you put it? Brutally honest? Sometimes rude? Wellmeaning... in her own twisted way? Alright, now you're just trying to defend her. She tends to passive-aggressive comments about your body as if she knows about your insecurities. For some god forsaken reason, you just chuck it up and think it's her messed up way of helping, even if her comments did make you cry once you were alone.

Yeah, it's terrible.

But there were times when you two would just interact normally. And by that, I mean you just listened to her talk and complained about Andrew on what he did or who he was with.

You noted not to interact with him when she was around.

But boy, oh boy! Did things drastically change when Andrew came back alone.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

You jolted when the door of the motel room was busted open. To your relief, it was just Andrew. But where is Ashley?

"Where's Ashley?"

"She's not gonna be a problem anymore."

"What do you mean by..." You end up trailing off as you notice the blood on his hands.

"Exactly what I said." He replied.

What are you going to do now... how are you supposed to react to the news that Andrew just brought?

"Wh- ha?! What are we gonna do now?"

Andrew just rubbed his face, clearly tired.

"I'll think about it tomorrow." What sort of crap answer was that?! He just killed his own sister and the only one who could get visions. now what are you gonna do?

"I took the charm. We can still use it."

Oh... Well, alright.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

One of Andrew's arms held you in a headlock, and with his free hand, he was rubbing your clit in circles.

You try to keep your moans down, as you were embarrassed by the sound that could get out. Mind you, this was your first time being intimate with someone.

To your unfortunate surprise, Andrew gently bit and licked from the nape of your neck going upwards, which made you gasp loudly. He quickened the pace in with his fingers, making you get out small whimpers as you felt close to cuming. However, Andrew had other things in mind as he removes his fingers from your clit and gets you to to turn around and face him.

For a scrawny-looking guy, he sure had a lot of strength and stamina.

He hooked one of your legs around his waist as you held on to his shoulders, trying to keep yourself balanced. You feel his hand hold your lower back, and you feel the tip of his dick rubbing your clit before moving straight to your hole.

You slapped your hand across your nose and mouth to block out the sound that was gonna abruptly come out of your mouth.

"You're gonna fall like that." The first thing he said since you started this. Andrew guided both of your arms around his neck. "Now hold on tight." He warned before hooking your other leg around his waist. You quietly whine when you feel his member rubbing up and down against your walls as he moves you both to the bed.

Your back hits the soft mattress, your legs loosen up, and your hands go back to holding on to Andrew's shoulders.

Andrew pressed his face onto your shoulder and held your hips with both hands. Once again, you covered your mouth with one hand when he started moving and gripped his hair with the other.

At first, he moved at a slow pace as you had adjusted to his length. He soon picked up the pace, and his tip was hitting a specific spot, which made pressure build up in your lower stomach, which all released and spread warmth through your body when the tip hit that spot againg for the last time making you groan in pleasure.

Feeling numb and tired, you wanted to rest your eyes a bit, which ended up with you falling asleep.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

"You mortals are really something else."

"Bah!" You jump in surprise only to see that it was Lord Unknown floating beside you. You also noticed you had your clothes on again, which meant you were asleep.

"At ease simple soul. As you are aware that you will receive a vision now." The being indicated to the door standing in front of you.

You nervously approached the door and turned the handle, getting it to open.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

A/n: This is as best as I can do, and honestly, I'll just leave it at that. Hope you enjoyed it.

#tcoaal x reader #andrew graves x reader #decay route #x female reader

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makeitmingi · 4 months ago

Text

When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 16]

Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho

Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?

[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]

Word count: 3.3K

"(y/n)!!!" Hongjoong heard Wooyoung's excited footsteps as he ran past the captain's office, heading down to supposedly greet you. He hadn't spoken to you since that day at the tracks and right now, he didn't really know what to say to you so maybe it was best he avoid you today again.

"I'm always apologising to her." He grumbled and slapped his forehead with a shake of his head as he typed on his keyboard.

"Good morning." You greeted an excited Wooyoung, who threw his arms around you. Luckily the driver was carrying your fragile things for you or you would have dropped it.

"Seonghwa, I made more kombucha for you. Sweetened with local honey and flavoured with hibiscus." You informed.

"Thank you, (y/n). I'm excited to see how this compares to the pineapple one you brought last time." He smiled, watching you.

"They're in here." You dug through the bag the driver was carrying for you and took out two big glass bottles. Seonghwa received them gratefully and brought them to the kitchen.

"Any goodies for me?" Wooyoung tilted his head.

"Sorry, Wooyoung." You rubbed the back of your neck. San shook his head and slapped the back of his best friend's head.

"He doesn't mean it. We'll let you get to work, (y/n)." San tugged Wooyoung away while you bowed and went to the garden. There was no sight of Hongjoong yet.

While you were starting your work, you didn't know that Hongjoong was looking at you from his office window. Luckily you never thought to look at the windows facing the garden or you would have seen him there in his office.

"Not gonna say hi?" Seonghwa asked, sipping some kombucha in his glass. Hongjoong shot him a flat look.

"Every conversation I've had with her always started with an apology from me." Hongjoong sighed as he reviewed the papers that Seonghwa just brought to him.

"I'm surprised you're the one sitting here while I'm the one working." Hongjoong scoffed.

"I just had to greet (y/n) first." Seonghwa shook his glass.

"Yeah, I know where your priorities lie, Hwa." Hongjoong rolled his eyes. Seonghwa was mentally snickering at Hongjoong's subtle sulking behaviour.

"She'll be here the whole day. Maybe go say hi to her just once while you're here." Seonghwa suggested and got up to leave.

"Hyung, we have a suspicious tailing." Yunho came to get the two oldest members.

"Where? Show us." Hongjoong frowned. Yunho handed the iPad to Hongjoong and Seonghwa that was mirroring the feed that Jongho was watching in their computer lair downstairs. There was a car that was tailing the police commissioner's car, keeping his distance but definitely following him.

"Contact the driver now. They need to stay calm and do things as per normal until we find out more of who is tailing them." Hongjoong said as the 3 of them headed down to the computer room.

"I've run the plates. Of course they're stolen but I'm trying to run traffic cams to see other possible sightings." Jongho informed.

"I'll let the commissioner know." Seonghwa took his phone out.

"Text him, don't call him. At this point, we have to assume the car is bugged." Yunho said, having just informed the commissioner's driver of what to do.

"Damn, I have my meeting." Hongjoong cursed as his phone beeped with a reminder for him.

"I can go." Seonghwa volunteered.

"No, I should go. Those rich brats have been causing too much trouble outside their parents' country club premises. I need compensation today." Hongjoong sighed.

"Hyung?" Yeosang poked his head into the computer cave, looking for Hongjoong. The captain nodded and held a hand up to wait.

"See how long the driver can drive without causing suspicion. Get Mingi to go deal with the stalkers." Hongjoong ordered those in the room before leaving the room. He went up to change into a nicer suit and grabbed his coat.

"Let's go, Yeosang." Hongjoong said, coming downstairs. As they were going to head to the basement carpark, he caught a glimpse of you working in the garden.

"Hyung? Is everything okay?" Yeosang tilted his head. Hongjoong chewed on his bottom lip.

"Yeah, come on." He nodded and went downstairs with the younger male. Since he couldn't drive yet, Yeosang was the driver.

"Mingi ah, you got the license plate?" Yunho spoke to his best friend on the phone since Mingi was out and in the area, able to go see the car that was following the commissioner's car.

"On it."

Mingi said from his end and those in the computer room could hear the revving of his engine as he sped.

"Don't confront the car yet, Mingi ah. The commissioner will be heading home now and they will follow but we believe they won't do anything. Only after he leaves, take him." Seonghwa instructed.

"Yes, hyung. I'm on it. I need eyes, there are too many cars on the street now."

"You're on the right road, Mingi hyung. You'll be taking the second exit coming up. Head in the direction of the commissioner's house, we have told the driver and the commissioner to head home. At least it is guarded there. The car will either follow them or split when they realise he's going home." Jongho said.

"Got it... Okay, I see the car. You're right, they're splitting up since they know there's a police car parked in front of the house. I'm going after them now."

With that, Mingi hung up the call. Seonghwa left Yunho and Jongho to get updates from Mingi since he had a meeting to get to too.

"Oh, Seonghwa." You bumped into him as you were coming out of the restroom.

"I'm heading out for a meeting. If you need anything, let the others know or the staff." Seonghwa smiled and you nodded your head with a slight bow as he walked to the main door.

'I temporarily forgot (y/n) was in the house. Despite all the issues coming up, let's remember to please be discreet. - Seonghwa'

Hongjoong glanced over at the message that was sent by Seonghwa and put his phone back down.

"We're very sorry, Mr Kim and Mr Kang. Please accept our apologies, our children will be disciplined." The 4 sets of parents bowed to Hongjoong and Yeosang, who remained seated with stoic expressions on their faces.

"Not good enough." Yeosang said.

"We'll pay for all the damages and more. Whatever amount you want." One of the fathers spoke up.

"You think we want money? Do I look like I need more money?" Hongjoong spoke calmly, raising an eyebrow. Yeosang merely tilted his head as he met the scared faces of the parents.

"It's sad that our generosity, letting you build your private country club here, is repaid as such." Hongjoong let out a sigh.

"We're sorry, Mr Kim." The parents all kneeled on the ground with full bows.

"The company stakes." One of the mothers gasped.

"That's more like it. Come, let's talk business." Hongjoong smirked. The two were pleased, that was what they came for. They didn't need money but company stakes gave them power.

"Please understand, we cannot make all these decisions on our own. There's still the board of directors and-"

SLAM!

Yeosang stood up, slamming his palms on the table, making the other people in the room, except Hongjoong, jump in fear. He was someone with a 'pretty' face and calm demeanour but he could be fierce and he was one of the strongest in the group, alongside Jongho and San.

"Are you giving us excuses? Would you prefer to say goodbye to one of your kids?" Hongjoong offered.

"No, please." The mothers begged for their children's lives. There was no sympathy here, these were rich children that abused their power and broke the rules.

"Go ahead, we'll give you one more chance to make an offer worthy of our time." Hongjoong smirked, gesturing to himself and Yeosang.

"Hey, (y/n)." You turned around to see Jongho standing there with a big tiered lunch box.

"Hey, Jongho. What's that?" You stood up.

"Lunch. Would you like to have lunch outside with me?" He asked. You blinked, not really expecting him to ask you that. You checked your watch, not realising it was already past noon.

"Sure." You smiled. The two of you sat in the gazebo. Jongho handed you a wet tissue to wipe your hands as he laid out the food.

"Wow, this is a lot of food." You chuckled, seeing all the food nicely arranged in the boxes.

"Hope you're hungry then." Jongho said with a smile, handing you a pair of chopsticks. It was nice and peaceful to sit with Jongho to each outside. What you didn't know was that Jongho was sent to distract you as Mingi dragged a beaten up body to the basement.

"So, have you been busy at the shop?" Jongho asked as he chewed. From the corner of his eye, he could see San helping Mingi drag the person across the main foyer.

"It's alright. Of course not as busy as holidays like Valentine's or Christmas. But I have some events coming up." You shrugged.

"You do event arrangements too?" Jongho tilted his head.

"I... try... I'm content with what I do, not like I'm looking for much publicity. But it's nice to change things up a little. Arrangements for events are so different." You chuckled.

"Take the chance to learn something new?" Jongho asked, he was now aware of your open mindedness to things.

"Yes." You giggled, taking a bite of the beef sushi that tasted absolutely delicious.

"So, tell me about your new big project then?" Jongho probed, resting his head on his hand, showing you interest. As you opened your mouth to say something, two voices emerged.

"Oh, Yunho, Wooyoung." You blinked as Yunho slid beside you and Wooyoung slid beside Jongho, taking the chopsticks out of the youngest's hands. Jongho clicked his tongue with much annoyance and slapped the back of Wooyoung's neck. But the older didn't care and started eating.

"Are you hungry, Yunho?" You asked the tall male beside you.

"No thanks, I just ate. Just came out for some fresh air. But please, continue your conversation." He chuckled, leaning against the back of the bench.

"I was just asking (y/n) here, about her new upcoming project as she branches into event arrangements." Jongho explained.

"Give me that." He snatched his chopsticks back from Wooyoung, who pouted as he chewed.

"It's nothing much, really. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if the whole thing is a scam. But it seems like a big event, a gala of some sorts." You explained to them.

"These are the designs." You pulled up what you sent to the organiser and showed it to them on the phone.

"Wow, they're really nice! Pretty." Wooyoung complimented.

"Thank you, it's not much but I'm still learning. I'm glad the organiser approved of them. And I have my friends helping me make the different flower arrangements for the event." You informed.

"Have you ever thought to hire any help? Like a shop assistant?" Yunho asked.

"I did think about it but I don't think I would make a good boss. Managing myself has always been easy but managing someone else, being responsible for them and their pay. And there's no fixed schedule with how I work." You said.

"Nonsense, you'd make a great boss!" Wooyoung insisted.

"Maybe in the future, I'll think about it. Right now, I like my space and schedule of working and studying botany." You laughed. The three nodded, understanding where you are coming from.

"Hey, (y/n). Sorry for interrupting your conversation but guys, Hongjoong hyung needs us for a meeting." Yeosang said.

"We'll continue this." Jongho smiled as he packed up the boxes with the help of the others.

"No worries, I-I should get back to work too." You forced a smile, feeling a little weird at the mention of Hongjoong's name. So he wasn't out, he was home and probably avoiding you.

"Have a great meeting." You wished them as they waved and headed back into the house while you continued your work.

"Things are finally starting to look right." You smiled, proud of yourself as you dusted your hands.

"Hi." You jumped when Mingi's face appeared in front of yours with a cheeky grin. Being so tall, he had to lean down quite a bit in order to get to your crouched height.

"Mingi, you scared me." You placed a hand over your heart.

"Sorry! I was just curious to see what you were doing." He chuckled. On the outside, Mingi was someone that looked fierce, charismatic and confident. Frankly, all 8 of the boys were. But you have also come to learn that he was rather clumsy and scared of a lot of things, he acted like a princess sometimes.

"I finally finished repotting the plants so this is it. Everything is in the right place and should grow a lot better." You explained to him. He nodded his head, listening intently.

"Did you forget that spot then?" He tilted his head, pointing to the empty plant box on the right.

"No, I didn't. There are actually seeds there that are planted and going to grow so it's not empty like it looks." You giggled.

"Do you want to help me put the signs in?" You offered. He nodded like an excited child as you handed him a little signs that you made at home to mark the soil.

"There." You guided him on where to stick the signs into the dirt.

"Ooh, cucumbers. Wooyoung hates cucumbers." Mingi said as he read one of the signs.

"Here. You can water them too. Just go across the bed." You handed him the hose. But of course, Mingi underestimated the strength of the hose and water went everywhere.

"Mingi!" You squealed and he dropped the hose in shock, resulting in himself getting soaked too. You reached over to turn the hose off.

"Is everything okay?!" Having heard your scream, everyone else came running out, seeing you and Mingi there, drenched from head to toe. Meeting Hongjoong's worried gaze, you cleared your throat and looked away.

"Mingi ah, what did you do?" Yunho facepalmed.

"Why did you assume it was me?" Mingi asked his best friend, a betrayed look on his face.

"Because it obviously couldn't have been (y/n). You're the bumbling fool in this scenarios." Seonghwa crossed his arms, making Mingi scoff. San came over to you, draping his jacket over your shoulders.

"Thanks, San." You smiled gratefully, feeling yourself start to shiver as the cold wind blew against your drenched body.

"You should take a shower and change into some new clothes, (y/n). You'll fall ill." Yeosang said.

"I-I don't have extra clothes." You laughed awkwardly.

"It's fine, we'll find something for you. Come, let's get you out of the cold and into a nice, warm shower." Wooyoung wrapped his arm around your shoulder and led you into the house.

"Wow! Thanks for showing me concern too!" Mingi yelled as all 7 of his brothers walked into the house with you.

"Come upstairs. You can use my bathroom, it's the neatest." Seonhgwa said, much to the protest of the others there. Except Hongjoong, who stayed back and just watched. He was worried that you were hurt or would get sick but couldn't find it in him to say anything or voice any concern.

"It's okay, I'll use the bathroom downstairs." You shook your head.

"Nonsense. Go shower and we'll find you some clothes." Seonghwa led you upstairs to his room. It was such a neat and elegant space, much like how Seonghwa was as a person.

"Sorry for what Mingi did and interrupting your work." He asked as you were going to enter the bathroom.

"No need to apologise, all in good fun." You smiled softly and closed the door behind you.

It was a grand, luxurious bathroom. You removed your wet clothes and placed them in the sink, not wanting to create a puddle on the ground. But you placed your underwear on the towel warmer.

"Oh my..." You stared at the expensive soap brands that lined the shelf in Seonghwa's shower stall.

Taking a deep breath, you just took a shower like normal, following the labels on the bottles. You grabbed a spare towel from the shelf.

"I smell like Seonghwa." You chuckled as you wrapped the towel around your body and stepped out. Thankfully, there was no one in the room but you noticed an outfit laid out on the bed and the towel warmer dried your underwear.

"(y/n)!" Mingi came barrelling down the hall the moment you stepped out of Seonghwa's room. You blinked in shock, taking a small step back just in case he crashes into you.

"I am soooooo sorry!" He bowed and apologised repeatedly.

"It's okay, Mingi. It was an accident, I'm not hurt or anything. Don't worry." You patted his arm.

"So, we cool?" He winced as he held his fist out. You laughed and nodded, bumping your fist against his.

"(y/n), hand the maid your clothes. We'll wash it and dry it." Seonghwa said, coming up the stairs with a maid following behind him. You walked into the room, remembering your clothes in the sink.

"You don't have to. You can just put it in a bag and I'll bring it home to wash." You waved them off.

"No, we insist." Seonghwa nodded to the sink. The maid bowed and retrieved your clothes, disappearing before you could protest.

"Anyway, thanks for letting me use your bathroom, Seonghwa. And where ever you got these clothes." You giggled, holding the ends of the shirt that was way too big it extended past your thighs. The pants were also too big but luckily you could pull the drawstrings tight to tie a knot to help the pants stay up.

"No need to thank me just because you used my bathroom, (y/n). It's alright." Seonghwa laughed while you rubbed the back of your neck in slight embarrassment.

"Ah, I'm just wondering how to work now. I don't want to dirty these clothes." You sighed.

"If there's no rush, you can just do it next time, (y/n). Or if you want to work, I'm sure Hongjoong won't mind." Seonghwa said.

"Oh... These are Hongjoong's..." You said slowly in realisation. Seonghwa nodded with a hum. He opened his mouth to say something until his phone rang in his pocket.

"Excuse me." He held a finger up and stepped aside to answer the phone.

"Miss, have some tea." The butler came over with a friendly smile, placing a cup of tea on the coffee table.

"Thanks..." You sat on the couch, alone in the living room. Now knowing who the clothes belonged to, you noticed how much they smell like Hongjoong.

"(y/n). Are you alright?" Speak of the devil, Hongjoong stood there. He cleared his throat as you put the tea cup down and stood up. For some reason, you felt so small under his gaze even though you had nothing to feel guilty about.

"Thanks for lending me your clothes, I'll wash them and return them as soon as my clothes are dry." You bowed to thank him.

"It's fine, (y/n). There's no rush for the clothes. Don't worry about it." He shook his head.

"If that's all, maybe I shouldn't take up more of your time." You forced a smile. It was starting to get awkward and you wanted to get away from this.

"No, wait. You're not... Can we talk? ...Please." Hongjoong asked.

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actualbird · 3 months ago

Note

who do you think makes the most money amongst the NXX men. we have luke with three sources of income (NSB, antique shop & private detective gig), marius whose a literal CEO of the biggest corporation, vyn who has his own research centre + is a psychiatrist + nobility (not sure if that counts tbh given his complicated relationship with his haspran lineage) and artem whose a lawyer. i feel like marius makes the most, and then it’s kinda debatable between vyn and luke, but artem’s for sure last, and that’s wild because he makes BANK. he’s only in fourth place because someone has to be there 🧍‍♀️

anon, i need you to know this simple question sent me into a spiral. it had me googling things like "How much does James Bond make annually???? (adjusted to present day inflation)" and wondering things like "hold on, what currency do we use for this, because Stellis uses their currency of Stellins and the income will definitely depend as well on the strength Stellin as a currency and the cost of living within Stellis, but oh god we don't really have any good information on how much Stellin is in comparison to IRL currencies, but fuck, i do need to pick a currency to base this off of or else we're not getting ANYWHERE [PULLS AT MY FUCKING HAIR]---"

okay. all that said, this question sent me through so many tabs of googling, but after all that research and my own headcanons and views, here is my answer.

1ST PLACE = marius von hagen

obviously. he's the CEO of one of the most powerful and influential corporations in the country of Stellis. he makes like a gazillion bajillion fuckoff-illion Stellin annually, we dont even have to find a number for him because he's definitely at the top.

did you know canonically, marius never checks the price tag of any of the things he buys? yeah. i think that says enough

2ND PLACE = vyn richter

im not going to do any numbers or math for vyn either because i agree with you that vyn is at second place. vyn technically has the following sources of income

psychologist/psychiatrist

owner/co-founder of Giannovyn Mental Health Research Center

visiting professor at the School of Psychology of Stellis University

being Royalty (but this is...complicated)

being a visiting professor is basically negligible, income-wise. i come from a family of teachers so i know teachers, even at a university level, are paid horrendously. but his practice as a psychiatrist and the income he gets as the owner and co-founder of his research center must be Big Bucks

as for the being Royalty part.....i dont think thats Income, per se, but vyn definitely doesnt need to WORRY about money tbh. worst comes to worst, shitbag dad eirik haspran will throw svartish currency at vyn's face, which vyn will ABSOLUTELY HATE, but that doesnt get rid of the fact that it Is money that he's got access to.

in terms of attitudes and behaviors in regards to spending, his placement of 2nd place seems to align here: vyn lives with many fancy luxuries!! nowhere near as extravagant and out-of-this-world as marius, but it's There: the clear see-through grand piano in his pre-moving-in-together bedroom, the upper class hobbies and interests like wine tasting and horse riding, that kind of stuff. so i think he fits here in 2nd place.

INTERMISSION = i need to take you through my process, methodology, and struggle here (so you understand what i WENT THROUGH)

okay now it was artem and luke that tripped me up the most for this response. my gut instinct when you said artem was last place just made me go "that can't be right...."

i originally tried to solve this conundrum by doing actual math and conversion. my process was:

search the job's annual salary in China (because Stellis is based on Chinese cities in general. this would mean we would be working under Chinese living costs and the Chinese Yuan)

convert those values into Philippine Peso simply so that i can comprehend the numbers

compare who's higher!!

but then that made me realize a big issue with this process.....artem's job is easy, he's a Senior Attorney. but luke....what the FUCK is his actual job title for the NSB??????

in Main Story 05-01, he describes himself as part of the "Financial and Technological Crime Section" of the NSB, and he joins the NXX Investigation Team as a "special investigator" but like....WHATS HIS TITLE. WHATS HIS POSITION. WHATS HIS JOB DESCRIPTION AND WHAT ARE HIS RESPONSIBILITIES???

on NSB missions or during his NSB era, luke has been seen doing undercover work, hacking (idk a more formal term for this), combat training for new recruits, AND THE LIST GOES ON. essentially, searching for his "job" in the first place tripped me up

hence why i landed at this reddit page

it seemed like a lost fucking cause to use actual IRL sources for luke's job so i went into the realm of fictional secret agents, james bond being the most known and, well, luke pearce is basically james bond at this point, what with everything he's had to do already.

HOWEVER, i won't be using the exact numbers that the above reddit thread came up with, because those numbers are based on the living costs and culture of Europe. that fucked up all the numbers ONCE MORE

SO WHAT I INSTEAD DECIDED TO DO WAS extrapolate the answer based on Vibes and Living Conditions

"zak why did you tell us all of this if you were gonna disregard it anyway" because you all need to know how much i wENT THROUGH, FOR THIS ASK SKJFBDLSKFJSD.

3RD PLACE = artem wing

he may have a normal job but consider the fact that he bought a penthouse apartment straight out of college.

additionally, after consulting an Artem Knower, she mentioned and reminded me of the fact that Pax is Themis' client. so artem is getting them BIG PAX BUCKS.

his living conditions are sleek, elegant, and luxurious. not at the same level as vyn and marius, but it is very swanky. in his pre-moving-in-together apartment, he literally had his own private cinema room. his kitchen had two ovens. these are signs that he makes BANK.

4th PLACE = luke pearce

"but zak!! luke literally has THREE SOURCES OF INCOME!! AND ONE OF THOSE IS BEING A GOVERNMENT AGENT!!!" to that i say:

the income from Time's Antiquities is honestly negligible because 1) its main purpose, canonically, isn't actually to be an establishment but instead a front for his PI business. yes, he does do restorations and make sales, but that's not his priority. and 2) HE DOES SO MUCH SHIT FOR FREE. LUKE, THIS IS NO WAY TO RUN A BUSINESS!!! KBSLFBLDS

the income from his Pearce Private Investigations is also somewhat negligible because, again, HE ALSO DOES CASES FOR FREEEEEE or at the very least is very flexible about payment

as for being a government agent........the government does Not Pay Its Employees Well

"but unlike artem, who has an apartment, luke has an entire 3-floor building to himself!!" yes he does! but he did not buy that. it was canonically left to him by his deceased parents

with those matters out of the way, i wanna say that luke making the least among the boys (WHICH DOESNT MEAN HE MAKES LITTLE. he definitely still makes Money, just not as much as the other three) makes sense given his Vibes and Living Conditions

in terms of vibes, luke is a very simple boy. he tends for "low-brow" hobbies and indulgences and food. in terms of living conditions, his pre-moving-in-together living space, which was just one floor of his 3-floor building, was very simple as well, even cramped. his bed was on a palette on the FLOOR. LUKE, FOR GOD'S SAKE, SURELY YOU MAKE ENOUGH TO GET A PROPER BEDFRAME //SHAKES HIM

conclusion = never make me do this again

i went through a crisis trying to answer this ask. people are allowed to have different opinions of course, but this is My View. i hope this response was at the very least entertaining. KBKSJFSDF

#asks #anon #tears of themis #marius von hagen #vyn richter #artem wing #luke pearce

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