#i like both. i enjoy both. i see the reasoning for both. and I respect both!

[jaqobis]

man so i've been rereading tdr and i've been really noticing here that the reason egwene has such a hard time with nynaeve is because she keeps being reminded of renna

and egwene doesn't even fully realize this! nynaeve doesn't even know she's doing it!

but egwene spends this whole book on HIGH ALERT, because the last time she trusted anyone, she got carried off to the seanchan!! siuan's directive about the black ajah only feeds into her own paranoia after being deceived by liandrin...who, you know, was black ajah. it's not undeserved fear!! but egwene has a hard time looking at anyone she doesn't know (or doesn't know well) as anything but a potential threat. she spends the whole first meeting with aviendha and bain and chiad thinking about ways to protect herself or defuse the situation, when in actuality everyone's wondering why she seems so on edge and ready to attack. aviendha literally catches her embracing the source and hastily goes I WOULD NEVER HURT AN AES SEDAI BTW, FOR NO REASON, JUST FYI,

but coming back to nynaeve...the thing is, renna — and this is really emphasized in the book, where most of the torment is off-screened and told to us later in absolutely horrifying anecdotes — really abused egwene in the way of alternating punishment with "kind" and "humane" treatment. she acted like the owner of a recalcitrant animal she really cares about, or...wait for it...a particularly abusive older sister. renna is the one with the knowledge, the right answers, and egwene was her foolish damane who was learning the ropes. who, when she was punished, was hurt because she'd brought it on herself.

nynaeve, village wisdom, also acts like the older sister with the knowledge, and with the right answers. she also favors egwene with the affections of an authority figure. it's totally different, of course, because nynaeve actually loves egwene and respects her deeply. nynaeve would never hurt her. but we see moments like nynaeve giving egwene's hair a playful tug after egwene compliments her...which completely sours egwene's mood....and is also reminiscent of renna patting her hair when she "does well." both nynaeve and renna position themselves as teachers who have taught egwene lessons, which they ask her to recall! and though their behavior and treatment of her are wildly different, egwene is unable to separate her reactions to nynaeve and feelings about nynaeve with her visceral disgust at her time as a damane.

egwene doesn't WANT to be a "good girl," because with the seanchan she was forced to be a "good girl," a pliable damane, or she'd be hurt until she became compliant. but she is free now, and she's determined to keep her freedom forever, so she CANNOT be the foolish girl who trusted an adult and got captured and tortured. she CANNOT be the valuable damane who had no recourse but to learn her lessons and attempt the smallest resistances allowed to her. she won't agree with an authority figure just because they're an authority, and she won't enjoy their kindness when they agree with her!! all of these experiences have been completely poisoned for her. and, importantly, nynaeve is safe to act out with. egwene couldn't react this way at the white tower, because they have the power to withhold her education, her future as an aes sedai (which she conflates with safety because she will have power), and because they too are willing to apply physical punishment. nynaeve, at worst, will get frustrated or say something sour, but she would never meaningfully hurt egwene. and there's the part of egwene that knows that, even with all of the trauma informing every choice she makes.

tl;dr as usual rj wrote some really compelling trauma material in the wake of egwene's horrific experiences with the seanchan. i love his commitment to depicting the messier, uglier trauma responses people can have and the sympathy with which he does it

[wondersky]

2:45 AM

Pairing: Idol!Chris x YOU (fem reader) Genre: Friends to Lovers, Smut, Smutty fluff. Honestly I feel like its pretty light smut.

Summary: After the confession, they unravel. And its everything they've both been aching for.

DISCLAIMER: MDNI. 18+ please. This is a work of fiction. I have no idea what this man would be like in bed, what he likes and doesn't like etc. This story depicts in detail finger penetration, vaginal penetration, consensual safe sex (we love a respectful aware king). If this makes you uncomfortable please do not continue.

A/N: Holy fucking over thinking. I wrote and rewrote almost every section of this story. I hope I portrayed something enjoyable. Smut, or more sexual content is so hard to write! Why is that? ( I mean I can come up with a few reasons why but I digress). I hope you all enjoy. This is a straight continuation of 2:08AM. But I think anyone can enjoy it without reading pt. 1. I would really really appreciate feedback for this one! Hopefully I can improve writing this genre in the future. Thanks for reading!

Read Part 1 here.

You don’t remember how you ended up straddling him, but one kiss led to another and another and another. Now your hands are tangled in his hair and he’s kissing you slower this time. Like he’s trying to make sure you don’t disappear in the middle of it. 

His hands slide underneath your shirt, fingertips brushing the skin right above your waistband. He exhales sharply against your lips. 

“You’re so warm,” he mumbles. 

You tremble when his touch skates across your ribs “So…soft.” He whispers “Do you ever miss something that you’ve never done? Because I’ve missed this.”

You laugh breathlessly “What are you even saying? That makes no sense.”

“It does” He says kissing your collarbone “It feels like i’ve missed this…maybe just missed out.”

You shiver as his lips trail up your neck. His palms press against your back, pulling you in even closer to him. You're clutching the fabric of his hoodie, the only thing keeping you grounded.

“Is this okay?” He asks quietly

You nod.

He lifts your shirt, slowly, eyes flicking to your face, checking for hesitation. When he finds none, he takes it off completely, eyes drinking you in. 

“Fuck” He breathes. “You’re….god, you’re so beautiful.”

He leans in, kissing down the curve of your shoulder, the slope of your collarbone, slow enough to make you head fall back, You feel his hands tremble just a little where they hold you. He’s nervous, but so are you. 

You tug at his hoodie, clumsily trying to pull it off. 

“Off. You too.”

He laughs, under his breath, voice low “You sure?”

You sit back a little on his lap “Chris, C’mon we’ve all seen you shirtless” you tease

He grins, eyes sweet but darkening “okay, okay.”

He peels off his hoodie, the fabric dragging across his flushed skin before he tosses it aside forgotten somewhere on the floor. 

Your mouth drops open, because even if you had seen him shirtless, nothing could have prepared you for seeing him like this underneath you.

His chest is broad, his skin warm and flushed, damp with just a hint of sweat. He’s not overly built but lean, toned, the kind of strong that’s born from years of dancing, lifting, living in a body trained to move. Defined pecs, tight abs, that soft but firm spread of muscle across his stomach that dips into a deep V, disappearing beneath the waistband of his sweats.

“You’re staring” He says a little smug, but his ears are pink.

 “You’re naked,” you whisper, blinking at him.

He laughs, head tilting. “I’m literally wearing pants.”

“Not for long, I hope.”

“Oh?” His hands find your hips again, thumbs dragging along the hem of your underwear. “That a promise?”

You nod. “Help me?”

You stand up and he pulls your pants, along with you panties, down slowly, eyes on yours the whole time. When they’re gone, he pulls you back onto his lap, dragging his hands up your thighs, spreading them over him. He groans, clutching at your skin.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, like he can’t believe it. “Already so fucking wet for me.”

“Because of you,” you fire back.

His slides a finger through your slick folds, slow and teasing.

“Shit,” he breathes. “Baby, you’re dripping. I could’ve just gotten off like this. Just watching you like this.”

You whine, hips twitching. “Chris…”

“I know.” He kisses your neck. “I’ve got you.”

He strokes you slowly, slipping two fingers inside with practiced ease, curling them just right. You clench around him and his jaw tightens.

“Doing so good for me. So warm. So tight. God, you’re so perfect.”

You ride his hand shamelessly, moaning into his shoulder, until he slows you with a firm grip on your waist.

“Not yet,” he whispers. “I want you to cum on my cock.”

You blink, dazed. He kisses you once slow, grateful then gently lifts you off his lap to reach into his bag behind the couch.

“You carry condoms in your studio?”

He huffs out a shaky laugh. “No judgment, please. I’ve had the same box in here for like… two years. But yeah. Just in case.”

You smirk “Smart boy.”

He tears the foil open and fumbles briefly with his sweats, pushing them low enough to free himself. Your breath catches when you see him. Thick, flushed, already leaking for you as he rolls the condom on with a hiss through his teeth.

“God, I’ve dreamed about this….about you for so long,” he says so sincerely, steadying himself under you again. “Can’t believe this is real.”

You shift your hips above him, eyes locked with his. “Then don’t make me wait.”

He grips himself in one hand, strokes once, twice, then lines himself up at your entrance.

“You sure?” he asks again. “You want this?”

“I want you.”

He swears, eyes fluttering shut for a second, like the words physically hit him. Then he’s guiding you down, the tip of his swollen cock pushing inside slowly, burning in the best way.

“Oh my god,” you gasp. “Chris—”

“Shh,” he soothes, forehead to yours. “You’re doing so good. Let me in. Just like that. That’s it.”

You stretch around him inch by inch, legs trembling as he fills you. He’s big, deep and it’s overwhelming. But you can feel how carefully he’s holding back. His fingers dig into your hips like he needs you to ground him, too.

“You okay?” he whispers, voice breaking.

You nod quickly. “So full. You feel…fuck, you feel so good.”

Once you’re fully seated on him, he kisses you again. Soft, sweet, desperate.

You move your hip slowly, dragging every inch of him through you. You sob into his mouth, nails scratching down his back.

“That’s it,” he breathes. “Just like that. My good girl.”

You whimper. “Yours.”

“Mine,” he says, more sure now. “Fuck…it feels like you were made just for me.”

He keeps talking and praising you. Whispering between kisses, moaning into your skin as he fucks up into you with more need.

“You feel like everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“You’re so fucking beautiful when you fall apart for me.”

You’re close and he knows it. He reaches between you, rubbing tight circles over your clit until your body snaps. You cry out, clenching around him, falling forward into his chest.

“That’s it,” he pants, still thrusting into you as you cum. “So good for me. I’ve got you.”

It pushes him over the edge.

He gasps your name, thrusts once—twice—then spills into you with a broken moan, holding you tight as his hips stutter to a stop. His head falls back, eyes squeezed shut, voice barely a whisper.

“Fuck. Fuck…”

------------------------------------------

When it’s over, it’s quiet again.

You collapse against him, sweaty and shaking, and he wraps his arms around you like he’s afraid to let go. His lips brush your temple. He’s still breathing hard.

“You okay?” he whispers.

You nod, face buried in his neck, smiling. “More than okay.”

He chuckles, soft and wrecked. “Good. Because that was… fuck.”

You lift your head. “Yeah.”

He kisses you again, slower this time. Full of everything he couldn’t say before and promises of what your future together holds.

He leans his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering closed.

“Stay,” he whispers. “For tonight. For tomorrow. Just… stay.”

You gently kiss him again.

“I was never going anywhere.”

[cxffinpinnk]

QFTIM CUPHEAD; MENTAL PSYCHOSIS AN THE EFFECTS OF A CONCUSSION.

Will include art from the comic source , enjoy my small ramble about him :3

.. - ..

SO TO BEGIN, He was already not that well from the start but appeared asymptomatic with his feelings. Cuphead was already a very straight-forward, no nonsense, just get the job done and we'll live. Very clear with what he wanted, and seemed to cover up such feelings of stress with humor and determination to do his job. Said job; Killing Bendy and Boris. This is important to mention.

Despite the calm, the brothers got extremely antsy and messy with their work due to the fact they were right against the mark, to Cuphead and Mugman, it wouldn't matter much if they got dirty with their work. If they had their scent it wouldn't matter much and they could clean their mess after, being they've never been caught or recognized by authorities AND nursing staff, to them they're citizens and nothing more.

Cuphead must've been extremely stressed and rushing his work to kill since Bendy was RIGHT there, he was just rapid firing out of nowhere which was the start of his spiral

Now after he shot Mugman the stress and mental load he was taking on got to the best of him and seeing that he (ALMOST) killed (to him in the moment, he DID kill. He's called a "dangerous killing machine" for a reason, it could imply he believes he is (AND NOT HIS EGO TALKING) strong enough kill someone in one go)

He tanked and it was very clear. He became erratic with his thinking and he wasn't aware of what he was doing, he's not really mentally in control of his thoughts and actions. "I just want to kill ya" that's his JOB, he's constantly repeating what he's gotta do which is really telling that his thoughts have become massively scattered to that point, not to mention the mental tank has rapidly spiraled and causing him to become delusional and calling for someone he thought off the bat was killed. Sometimes the brain will erase memories to it sees as traumatic, which more than likely was NOT helping his case in the slightest and it was a reason why he ended up just about taking his own life. That was also a sporadic decision he made whilst undergoing a massive episode

When he woke up after treatment his recollection is barely there, as though he blacked out completely, reaffirming he was having a major manic episode. Episodes come very diversely and this was his

NOW

He's still suffering the repercussions of his episode and his meatal health is worse than what it was, the psychosis he went through more than likely wasn't given proper treatment but he's not bottling it up like he was already, which is not going to be very helpful if a time comes he has another manic episode for some reason or another. I wanna theorize he was on the brink of one, but having his brother there to be there and the fear of losing him again gave him a stronger resolve to not lose himself to a horrific spree.

I also wouldn't think he'd ever treat Mugman with such manipulative talk if he wasn't thinking straight. He's an ass to him yes but manipulative ON PURPOSE? They had a talk about faking being friends with Bendy and Boris before joining their crew in order to gain their trust, tactful manipulativeness that Mugman himself joins in on. He has a facade of being a gentle giant when really he can be fucked up, but he really doesn't like the fact he has to do it and is more vocal about it, unlike Cuphead who feels the same yet wants what's best for them since this is a life or death scenario they got into. But again, Mugman is VERY MUCH WILLING TO BE A MANIPULATOR.

Cuphead and Mugman have their ways of being as such, one uses verbal manipulation and the other emotional manipulation, both boil down to psychological manipulation but with the respective b-bro they know will take the bait(edited)

Getting that out of the way, we know these two aren't pleased yet talk about things knowing they're in the same boat and want to get to a safe point. Anything to survive right? with that being said the way these two talk is FAR different than what we get when they're approaching the first piece to the Ink Machine aka The Cog. This is after the events that took place and we see how much Cuphead's still suffering, showing signs of PTSD (or we can say C-PTSD if we count the traumas he's been through, hurting Mugman the straw that broke an already frail camels back).

The way he talks to Mugman vastly overcasts how he use to talk to him, yes he was strict but he very much cared for him and never shown any form of strong agitation. I'm leaving out the part when he tugged on him to leave cause tbh it all seemed like a goofy shtick incorporated like a Looney Toons shot)

What he's saying to him feels like he's still somewhat not all there and having said repercussions from his previous manic episode. The conversation being had between these two would have gone a whole lot different if we take into note their plan of faking being friend's with Bendy and Boris work if they help them too. Cuphead would know that better than anyone else if he was in the right state of mind, but he's not.

Aiding friend's gains trust and why would he not want them to gain points like that, extra manipulation, it can be of use when they actually get all of the Ink Machine parts. This is assuming this is what their plan is, seeing as they previously concluded they could get all the parts before them yet they don't have the map of the Heavens. Befriending them means they'll be lead to the pieces and they got mad that Felix was there since he was another obstacle, but he can't really do anything if they hurry to the chase.

Cuphead is not in his right state of mind and it wasn't treated well

His agitation and lack of critical thinking, overseeing details he would have seen if he could think, nobody but Bendy has thought to see if he was actually okay but at the same time, Bendy only thought it was because he's fearful of hurting Mugman again, it's on his nose but Bendy is still not fully letting it click that it's NOT the fear of hurting his brother again.

The damage to his head also, wanna mention could have really added onto his lack of thinking skills, I don't wanna say he now has a layer of having a concussion but he defiantly is suffering Blunt-Force trauma now, or something of the likes.

He's not all there and is trying to force himself through stuff that needs serious medical attention, but if he isn't aware of even this? Someone in the group has to notice at some point but I believe that's a 50/50 fate. Either someone takes notice of the fact he needs a doctor yesterday OR he could either end up progressively worse than what he already is, because it's clear he's showing signs of a progressive downfall that was out of his control

End of my analysis ! :3

[hcgossips]

Orange Is The New Black

You might not see and, in Hollywood, nothing is what it seems. This PR stunt with Viscuso (as many prior ones) was a staged plot to, once again, sell Cavill as the straight confident guy, what I believe he isn’t. It was necessary to create a convincing story on how they met, to justify their connection and to introduce the stunt in a way that it wouldn’t jeopardize his image. So, they promoted her with a fake title.

But, this PR stunt was imediatetly discredited and it jeopardized the image Cavill always wanted to sell of himself: The straight, confident womanizer, who bangs all the women he knows. It discredited him as a man, increased the gay rumours. So, it became imperative to insist on the PR stunt, pushing it throats down to save Cavill from bad publicity and unsuccessfully, try to "save" the rep they were trying to create for Viscuso. What better way than giving him a persona of a guy in a steady relationship (marriage) with a kid?

This PR stunt was, later, essential as a smoke screen to his sexuality, because the gap between both Cavill and Viscuso was huge, called even more attention after Viscuso’s blow j*b photo was released and viral, and it totally discredited the plot of an involvement between both. It demanded a troublesome damage control that could have been some breakup story, like KC’s. But, it ended up as a diversion plot to avoid the gay rumours.

But, parallel to the PR stunt, they also had another bigger problem: The humiliation of TW and Superman. For this one, they had the idea to use a project taken from a top hat (WH) - that would work as another diversion, deviating attention from Superman and Geralt’s fiascos -, to which they involved the PR so as to give her meaning, some function and justify her connection to Cavill.

Cavill should have never promoted his intimate, private, sexual life. But, he always did. And, apparently learnt nothing. Fake or not, he chose to promote himself as a sex symbol and a womanizer. He’s the only responsible for what he has received in response. And, the insistence in being in so many PR stunts is a red flag. First of all, he is a marketer and a professional escort, selling from products to women. Escorting PRs is a job as a smoke screen for his sexuality and as a bargaining tool.

So, I believe this guy is gay. But, even if straight, I don’t believe he’s in a real date (or whatever relationship this is) with Viscuso (for reasons I already presented here on T). I think this is a “ You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours” thing. Of course it’s possible he could have gotten laid. She’s a promiscuous and apparently single woman and an exhibitionist. He’s a single guy. So,...

I believe it’s possible Viscuso had a baby, but there’s no way I believe Cavill is the father. He has other priorities and I doubt he would choose a promiscuous sl*t to be the mother of his child. But, there’s taste for everything. And, maybe, that’s the type he enjoys. The plot became imperative, because the deal demanded to promote her as a respectful pro in the industry, while going against the gay rumours.

And, I also don’t put faith on WH. I don’t think it will come to life. It started as a fake story do deviate attention from TW and Supes’  fiascos. Yes! They could, now, have found an interested investor, but it’s a huge project and I really don’t put faith in Cavill as producer-director. I don’t think he has what it takes. Playing games on a computer is not the same as producing- directing a movie. And, he's not a guy with initiatives. He needs someone to tell him what to do.

What I believe is he is just paying someone to really do the job for him, while he gets the credits as the person in charge. But, he doesn’t have the experience nor the emotional strength to be in charge of something so huge. What leads me to the idea he’s paying someone to do it - while he takes the credits and title - someone, who could also be Viscuso’s real lover and dad of her child ( which I believe could be a boy).

[azurefaire]

Regarding prev's thoughts, I wanted to add my perspective a bit more regarding the original movie:

I feel what many people don't know about the fans who really admire the original movie concept is that when we compare it to the finished, finalized version- that it is more from an artistic appreciation and curiosity perspective than it is a definitive one. We don't have opinions on a movie that didn't come out, we have opinions on a movie that did- that came out different than what many marketing materials promised that used a different art style. Both me and ZZ's curiousity stems from a dissatisfaction with the Lassetter version that we both actually had as kids with the first film.

For the longest time, I have thought about this film and wanted to uncover the lost secrets. On a basic premise, yes I prefer the original cut to the film but since the movie never came out I can't exactly say I prefer one or the other.

I'm honestly quite surprised on how many people are "split" on this topic, it's been a common sentiment to say that they'd prefer the version that came out- but this movie is still quite elusive so personally I never understood that idea. Still, I respect this opinion as many in their childhoods were incredibly attached to the final, edited version of the film. Where as I really viewed it differently, even then. Sure many promos were very short and I actually loved the movie, but I really believed Tinker Bell as a movie would look and feel different (this is all because of executive scrambling). Characters like Bobble and Clank were added really late into promotion as well so I was confused on their input. In many ways we were attached to the wrong Tinker Bell movie, the one that didn't exist. I wish I could say the production troubles didn't take away my enjoyment of the original movie, but I still have my memories as well as the fact that some stuff still made it in, wonderful art from artists like Mark Cote who struggled on this film.

In many ways I don't think this version shouldn't exist (not counting Lasseter's involvement), rather that the some original artwork should have at been least kept in even if they were going for a more natural direction. It's also really jarring to me that John Lassetter really disliked the original version of this movie and then went on to direct Luck.

The truth is, the production for the first film was a dissaster and the entire franchise has the unfortunate ties to John Lassetter. That is the reason we sort of "dread" the original film- from an an perspective of analysis and different ways we enjoy our thoughts on the movies are often more complicated. Especially when it comes to the labor and talent on the movies. Similarly, many other movies had their development affected by John Lassetter because he thought the plots were "too complicated". This is why both of us- to varying disagrees- dislike the original movie. There's also the fact that many narratives online about the film and the franchise in general have an incredibly negative bias.

A lot of people enjoy this franchise really differently, including the lost media perspective- it's actually really cathartic for me oddly. I feel like I view the franchise as a whole differently, I don't really see it as "movies first"- I find comfort in the stuff that doesn't usually matter to a lot of people, like how I really like the books and really like analyizing the art direction and pre development art. In many ways it's in a similar childlike awe to that I had when I was a child, it never really went away- just changed as I grew.

Also, I have been following each other for a while and I always loved your tags and thoughts on many posts, thank you for sharing them with me! 🫶

Decided to rewatch Tinker Bell (2008) to see what short cuts they took when dismantling Ring of Belief (ROB). So here are some of them. Tumblr won’t let me add more than 10 images so this isn’t even all of them.

So first off the little dandelion seed things are reused from ROB.

The barrage boat where Hook captures Tink and Silvermist in with Peter and the lost boys, makes an appearance.

Oh also George and Mary are in the film too for some reason in the background for like 3 seconds. They are like the only background people in the film, like WHY- waste of models imo but I think they were from the ROB draft so what can you do.

Hooks ship is also just chilling there.

I’m thinking this tinker bell model they used for one scene is also from ROB because her wings are very tiny, and we know newborn fairies were a thing (they still come from a child’s laugh but they’re like baby’s/younger, kind of like how everyone could tell Prilla was the youngest fairy in the Disney fairies books when she arrived because of her wing size and features) because of the flash game and young fairy concept art.

Yes I’m sure the concept art is fairies look at their ears and their dresses are made out of flowers.

I’m not sorry but Terence is just Peter Pan’s Ring of Belief Model with a tik tok filter slapped on it and a side identity theft.

They had a remaining budget of like 3$ and since Lasseter cut Peter from the film he was just extra so my guess is they reused him to make Terence, which is why Terence’s face is different from the books. Now don’t go hitting me with the “but all of tinks friends look different and they were in the books too”. Well duh, that was intentional, they were created in marketing, they were taken and made specifically for the film, Gail had no involvement with them. They were just added in later with corresponding designs to promote the films later on. That’s also why we never got tinks book friends in the movies because they were created for the books, they weren’t meant to be “movie marketable”.

Another case of identity theft. Like come on. They dismantled Victoria and turned her into Wendy. Wendy shouldn’t even been in this film because of the last line from Peter Pan where Wendy’s dad, George, says he’s been to never land before. That isn’t possible here because Peter isn’t even in Never Land yet, Tink was just born and Wendy exists. Would make more sense if they used Victoria instead and made her like Wendy’s grandmother.

Over all the Tinker Bell films we got feel like their own bad timeline. They threw almost everything out from the books in a way and called it a day. ROB was at least consistent with the books lore and timeline. We had the purple pixie dust tree, we had the ring of belief, we had mother dove references, we even could have had the book fairies at one point. Disappointed with the Tinker Bell films rn smh. This movie is a 4/10 at best and I’m mad at it rn because it’s just stolen scraps glued together with an Elmer’s glue stick.

[toukasspouse]

thinking. about mirauta again.

[fushitoru]

seperation anxiety! a (clan head) gojo satoru fic

pairing ⸺ clan head!gojo x wife!reader

summary ⸺ satoru begs you to attend a meeting with the higher-ups, but not for the reasons you thought. inspired by this art by @/baobei-bu!

warnings ⸺ SMUT, gojo is a warning by himself, VERY public sex, reader has a vagina, fem reader implied, no penetration, fingering, fondling, making out, panty-ripping, exhibitionism, kinda cucking but the only ppl humiliated and humbled are the higher ups, porn no plot, but plot if you squint, reader is a strong independent woman (until gojo charms her, bc who wouldn't turn into a cockslut for gojo?), this took me at least five hours to write for no good reason?, not edited (like always....)

a/n pls enjoy and thank u to the queen for making such delicious art (p.s. go to their twitter for nsfw ver i squirted)

general masterlist

“Pleaseeeee,” Satoru has his face buried in your chest, nuzzling in further while complaining. It’s almost comical how he—head of the biggest clan in Jujutsu—is leaning down to match your height. You, meanwhile, stand firm, arms crossed, regarding him with a mix of exasperation and reluctant affection as he leans down to meet your gaze. “Will you come with me?”

The question comes as the dreaded meeting with the higher-ups looms, a gathering he's been dodging all day. It technically began ten minutes ago, and you barely managed to wrangle him into his formal kimono just twenty minutes earlier. You sigh, fingers brushing his hair. “Satoru, you know what they think of me. I'm not exactly their favorite person.” You’re both standing in the middle of your shared bedroom, you imploring him to be on time for his meeting to avoid getting even further shit from the higher-ups.

Mind you, you’re the more rational one between you and Satoru—in fact, most of the people who know you would agree that you’re a very mature, wise person in general (with the exception of some circumstances, of course). And despite the respect your skill commands, the higher-ups have never warmed to you, not since you refused to play a pawn in their games. Marrying Satoru, the one jujutsu sorcerer they could never control, only amplified their discontent. They see you both as threats—powerful sorcerers bonded in defiance.

At the mention of "higher-ups," Satoru's pout deepens, and his pleading voice grows more insistent. “Pleeeease,” he drags out, practically whining. “I have separation anxiety.”

You feel a pang of sympathy. These meetings are miserable for him—hours trapped in a room with men twice his age, trying to dictate his every move. “I don’t know, Satoru…” you murmur, hesitating.

But Satoru takes advantage of your softening resolve, hugging you tighter, his face pressing into you again. “Don’t make me go in there alone!” he says, his voice muffled. “You have no idea how much you silence them. One word from you, and they all think twice. I’m already one step away from wanting to kill them all.”

A sigh escapes you as you realize he’s not letting up. And while you’re reluctant, you know that your presence, your opinion—one of the few he truly values—might actually give him a sense of calm in that harsh room. “Alright, alright,” you concede finally, hand smoothing the fabric of his sleeve. "But no making a scene." 

His answering smirk is smug, giving you a fat, sloppy kiss on your cheek that you’re not afraid to show your partial-disgust about. You all but have to wrestle him off of you white he’s smothering you in kisses, getting out something about how much loves you, oh so thankful to have such a wise wifey like you as you get ready in a kimono similar to his and head to the limo waiting outside of the manor you and Gojo reside in. 

As soon as you get in, Gojo turns sharply to Ijichi, who’s shifting the gear. “Put the divider up.”

“O-Okay, Gojo-san.” A little intimidated by the commanding tone in your husband’s voice, he quickly presses the button to activate the screen, and Gojo pounces on you, grabbing you and hoisting you up by your sides to put you on his lap.

“Satoru!” you exclaim, surprised as he captures his lips with yours. His hands roam your body as he moans, almost obnoxiously, because he knows you’re always paranoid whenever he initiates anything in public. Your crotch aligns with his thigh, big and stuffed with muscle as he drives your hips to grind on him, and despite yourself and your circumstances, you find yourself leaning into his touch.

“My pretty wife,” he purrs, now trailing kisses down your jaw and into your neck. “So pretty, so supportive.”

Despite his dizzying movements, you try to get a hold of yourself. “Satoru, we shouldn’t be doing this here. We need to discuss what to sa—”

“Fuck that,” he sighs, so breathless that you want to cave in.

“No, but—”

His eyes darken, and his hands start creeping up your legs, going slowly and slowly closer to your pussy. “Baby, you know I value what you have to say,” and his fingers graze your folds, making you leak even more with his teasing, “but I wanna listen to something else.”

He drags his index finger up and down your slit, making you whimper. His fingers then prod into your hole, putting pressure there but not quite delving in. “Satoru,” you whine out, clutching his upper arms as he has his way while toying with you.

“Yea, that’s what I wanna hear,” he groans, giving you a kiss. It is then that he rewards you with inserting his digit in, curling to hit your spot as he fingers you. HIs other arm is around you, holding your panties’ crotch to the side to allow him to touch you. “My good girl.”

As he’s touching you, the squelching sounds fills the enclosure you’re in and you’re desperately praying to God Ijichi can’t hear the lewd things the both of you are doing in the back. You’re just reduced to whimpering, unable to reject Satoru’s dizzying touches, his free hand leaving your panties to grope at your inner thighs, ass, and breasts. It’s like he’s devouring you with his kisses, urgent, as he continues curling his fingers. 

Between kisses, you try to get out a “Satoru—mmph,” smooch, “we shouldn’t be—mm” smooch, “shouldn’t be doing this here!” 

“What,” he drawls, and with the glint in his eyes you know the fucker’s trying to toy with you, knows what he’s doing is mischievous. “I can’t touch my wife?”

Before you could utter a response, however, the limo suddenly slows, and the sensation of using the brakes to stop the car makes you sober up. “We’re here, Satoru we need to go—-” As you’re trying to rip yourself off his lap, he pulls out the finger that was inside you and uses his hand instead to entangle it with the crotch of your panties, pulling and pulling until the cloth is nothing but shreds, falling off your body.

Oh my god, you were not paid enough for this shit.

With his oh-so-irritating eyes—the same ones that you spent despising in your early school years—he looks at you through his pretty white lashes as he makes a show of sniffing the now tattered shreds that were your panties and putting them in his pocket. Under your kimono, you can feel your slick escaping your panties as the cool air wafts through it, landing on your pussy. You look at him in disbelief. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

He giggles, giving you a kiss on the cheek while helping you off his lap, putting a hand on your head to make sure you didn’t bump your head against the car’s ceiling. “Let’s go and deal with those hags, my love.”

To be honest, you don’t really understand why Satoru is so handsy today. He’s on some sort of man-ovulation, you think, as you stride into the room. Even ripping off your panties was a bit excessive, if not out of pocket (no pun intended). Breaking out of your thoughts, you grounded yourself in the present, noticing hostile eyes turned towards your husband, and then you. You match their barely-subtle glares with a stink eye of your own, holding your chin up as you walk past them dismissively. Just as you’re about to take a seat next to Gojo—being mindful of your kimono so you don’t flash any of these old bastards—one of them speaks up. 

“Gojo-sama, why is this woman here?”

You continue to take your seat, noticing Satoru’s jaw clenched. But right as he’s about to say something, you cut in for him. “This woman,” and you smile, deceptively sweet, “is the lady of the clan. It would do you well to remember the hierarchy of the Gojo clan.” You don’t need to turn to look at your husband to know he has a proud smile on his face, making no effort to hide his smugness. What shocks you instead is that he swings an arm around you, effectively dragging you closer to him until you’re basically sitting on his lap, and his hands go to roam your sides.

Now, some old grandpa starts talking, commencing the meeting, on their usual bullshit of the need for extermination of Sukuna’s vessel, but Satoru pays them no mind. Instead, what they receive in response is non-committal hums as his hands drag themselves up your stomach and down where your legs are crossed to the hem of your kimono, and then under. 

Any semblance of paying attention to the meeting and responding to their infuriating beliefs leaves your mind as you blank out, panicking that Satoru is trying to commit public indecency with you. As an argument erupts between the higher ups about something, you turn to Gojo to furiously whisper, “What is wrong with you today?! Cut it out.”

In your life, you’ve fought many curses, first grade and even special grade included as you climbed up the ranks of Jujutsu sorcery despite having a non-sorcerer upbringing. What you will never be able to defeat, however, is your husband’s charm. Satoru knows what he’s doing as he lets out a deep moan in your ear, making you squeak and become even more flustered, as he continues to make lewd noises, puffs of his breath fanning across your neck. 

a/n gojo the type to start moaning randomly to make you fold #sorrynotsorry 

The indecency of all of it—-Gojo basically whimpering in your ear sweet nothings like good girl, that’s my wife, gonna let me finger you in front of all these ugly hags, right?—-being loud in your ear but also just quiet enough that you’d only hear made you so wet, heat throbbing between your thighs as Satoru’s hands start rubbing your fold. It’s a teasing touch, one not enough to satisfy you but to stimulate you nonetheless. 

It’s just when his index finger starts slowly circling around your clit that you buck your hips slightly, making him look at you teasingly, peering down at you from above your shoulder. “Oh you liked that, didn’t you?”

“I hate you,” you puff out, trying to fight the heat creeping up your neck as Satoru’s circles on your clit get more tangibly, simulating you oh so deliciously. To make sure you hold yourself up, you set your elbows down on the table, Satoru’s arms engulfing you as you’re forced to take whatever touches he’s giving you under the table. 

“She’s so loud,” he whispers, pointing out the noises your pussy was making as his digits roved over your folds. The squelches were tangibly there, audible to anyone who would strain their ears. You could tell your lack of response to the meeting was catching attention, because there were several eyes towards you, waiting for something; it was then you realized that they had posed a question but were simply too fucked out to respond. 

A voice comes out to reprimand your husband sharply. “Gojo-sama, this is hardly appropriate.”

Satoru chuckles, not stopping his ministrations as he picks up a cup filled with water, his smug gaze still turned towards you while observing and appreciating your every hiccup and reaction. “Can’t my spouse attend this meeting? I value her opinion above everyone else’s in this room, after all,” he drawls, lodging his chin in the curve of your neck. “Besides,” and he flashes a dangerous grin to the man who spoke out, “weren’t you the ones who were oh so worried about me not having an heir?” 

At this point, you’ve filtered out all noises, focusing and honing in on the sensation of your orgasm coming. His digits are playful, curling up to hit your g-spot repeatedly, his palm tickling your clit. Each time he hits your spongy spot a bout of electricity runs up your body, pulling you closer and closer to your orgasm. 

“But guess what,” and he gives you a kiss on the cheek, despite the aversion the rest of the higher ups have to any displays of affection, “we can solve that problem right here, right now.” He punctuates it with a harsh sink of his fingers into your plush cunt, and, with that, you finally cream his fingers, a result of Satoru teasing you all day now. You try to temper the shakes wracking your body by slamming your fist against the table, trying not to moan out.

It seems that no one’s seen you riding out your orgasm out so visible, because there are gasps around the room at how obscene Gojo’s suggestion was. “It is shameful of you to be saying such things, Gojo-sama!” one of them sputters out, red with anger and outrage. 

Your husband not so subtly rolls his eyes. “Then don’t bring it up all the time, old man.” Satoru knows how touchy and vulnerable you are right after you cum, so he’s running his hands softly up and down your thighs to quell your quivers affectionately. “Actually, what about this? You all haven’t witnessed us consummate our marriage, correct?” He smirks. “What about witnessing the heir-making next time?”

general masterlist

a/n pls see the vision like i want gojo to claim me and rail me into next tuesday while the higher ups just watch uncomfortably like maybe i am a freak like that. like gojo would be so obsessed with how he's claiming you in front of the fuckers that piss him off so much...might do a part two if pookiesa like this :P

comment and reblog to let me know ur thots :3

[cosmogyros]

.

[nanamisgirly]

cw geto is maybe bi here idk, chubby nerd!reader with a bit of attitude, tbh there's no cw it's borderline between smut and fluff

part.2 part.3 part.4

˖ 𑣲 comments and reblogs are always appreciated ma girliees :33

womanizer!geto loves fucking women. truly he does! they are all wrapped around his fingers and all he has to do is glancing at them. and this goes for the whole campus!! even boys would fuck him if he'd give them the chance. and maybe, if the mood struck just right at a party or in a messy, drunken threesome/orgies, he does fuck the boys.

but womanizer!geto has also a nerd bestie. the typical nerd girl. she was everything but his type. nothing that looked like his usual hookup girls. she was not fit, but not exactly fat. just chubby. her acne scars from high school still there with still some pimples that comes and go. and of course the infamous nerd glasses that didn't seem to want to stay on her nose.

you were not someone womanizer!geto would ever fuck. that's why you're friends. strictly platonic. he liked how you never batted an eye at his reputation, never judged, never treated him like a conquest. you both grow close through the years together in the same degree, during the late nights session study in the library before exams, for you it was monnnths before exams, you're a little ball of stress.

womanizer!geto doesn't like when guys approached you. not because he cares—why would he? it just...doesn't make sense. you're not the kind of girl men chase. not the kind they brag about. so he makes sure to lecture you about it—especially about frat boys. "they’re the worst," he mutters, arm slung lazily over your chair as his knee bumped against yours under the table. "trust me, nerd. they only act nice 'cause they wanna see how you moan." you rolled your eyes, setting your pen down with an amused scoff. "do you think i've never fucked, suguru?" you shrugged, smirking at his clueless expression "just 'cause i'm shy and a 'nerd' doesn't mean I don't enjoy a good fuck." well, you were lying but he doesn't need to know that. you were probably having sex every couples of months and it wasn't even that good. your voice was light when you added, "thanks for the concern, though." something in his chest stutters. and for some reason, he has to look away.

womanizer!geto has no shame. he lets girls climb into his lap, lets their hands wander, lets them grind against him right on the couch with people around. almost fucking them on the spot. but never when you're around! why? well, he tells himself it's respect. at least, that's the excuse he clings to. because why else would he pull away from a pretty thing palming his cock just to go talk to you? right? he's just...pitying you. that's all. and yet—when he finally starts to feel his cock hardening in his pants, he tells himself it has nothing to do with your wide, innocent eyes blinking up at him. nothing to do with the way your lips part, soft and expectant. his dick is...delayed. yeah. just slow to catch up to the last girl's game. horrible by the way.

and of course womanizer!geto is trying to subtly adjust his pants. he's forcing his mind elsewhere—anywhere else—because if he lets himself think too hard about how fucking pretty you look right now, he's going to have a problem. a big one.

womanizer!geto keeps a polaroid of you in his wallet. only because you are his bestie! don't get any ideas on that. he found the picture cute that's it. the two of you, standing under a canopy of cherry blossom, petals floating around you like something out of a dream. his strong arm wrapped tightly around your plush waist, your round soft tits pressing against his chest. it had been an innocent day. really. he had dragged you out after hours of studying, calling you a nerd and insisting you needed air before your brain cells ended up smeared on the library table. what was supposed to be a thirty minutes walk turned into four hours. and when you reaching this pretty alley he couldn't help but suggest a pic—just for the memory! and obviously his arm was around you only to male sur you both fit in the camera frame. obviously. he was not dying to touch you!

and now here it was. the damn polaroid in gojo's hand. the white-haired menace grinning like he just found the greatest blackmail material of all time. "damn, suguru, you look so whipped." geto's eye twitched.

"look at this! holding our nerd like she's breakable—aww, how so sweet!!" gojo snickered, flipping the photo dramatically. "and—hold on. did she kiss your cheek?" suguru said nothing, jaw locked as his mind instantly flashed back to that moment—how you rose on your tiptoes, one hand pressing slightly on his broad shoulder to steady yourself as you leaned in, brushing a soft kiss to his cheek. he had frozen for a second and he vividly recall your flushed face, wide eyes as you apologized profusely, muttering something about being 'carried away by the moment' and how it was simply a 'friendly' gesture.

his cock begins to stir at the memory of your soft lips against his skin. his heart skipping some beats.

"wait—holy shit." gojo barks out a laugh. "you keep this in your wallet? what, you jerk off to it?" your entire soul leaves your body. geto sees the way your eyes go wide, the way your hands fly to your face in horror.

and that's it. geto slowly stands up, cracking his knuckles and rolls his shoulders. "satoru," he said, voice eerily calm. gojo gulped. he was a dead man walking.

womanizer!geto tells himself he's just messing with you—that the way his fingers linger when he wipes a stray drop of your melting ice cream isn’t because he’s imagining how warm and soft your mouth would feel wrapped around his fingers. he convinces himself that when you lick your spoon, tongue flicking over the tip—his cock is not aching dreaming to be at the metal-stenciled place. and his rock-hard cock has definitely nothing to do with the way your thighs spread soft and full against the couch or the way your tits bouncy sightly every time you shift.

womanizer!geto is totally fine when you stretch on the couch next to him. arms up, back arching, body pushing forward, making your curves more prominent, making that cute little tummy press out—wait what?? geto shook his head trying to get back to his senses. no need to highlight it was impossible with the way his cock twitched in his pants.

womanizer!geto, obviously, does not want something with you..he does not want to bury himself into the plush softness of his nerd best friend, does not want to hear how sweetly you'd whimper his name. she's not his type!!!!

°‧★ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁( 。 •̀ ᴖ •́ 。)

a/n chubby girls are the biggest win 🙂‍↕️☝️

[harrysfolklore]

i see your face in every crowd - op81

summary: the asutralian grand prix is right around the corner and oscar's face is everywhere in melbourne, his ex girlfriend can't help but miss him (he misses her too)

folkie radio: if you know me you know i'm a sucker for an exes to lovers trope, and honestly this one is one of my faves i've ever done. ENJOY AND LEAVE FEEDBACK

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by oliviarodrigo, lando and 2,107,399 others

yourinstagram back home for a bit... needed some time to reset & breathe. been writing loads lately - the songs are just pouring out 🌊 feeling more inspired than ever tbh. can't wait to share what i've been working on with u all soon. huge thank u for all the love lately, means more than u know xx

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username1 BABYYYY

username2 i'm happy she's home and surrounded by love

sabrinacarpenter miss ur face already 😭 these songs are about to end lives fr

chappellroan THEYRE NOT READY FOR WHAT'S COMING!!! also pls come back to LA soon i'm dying without u

username3 chappellynbrina is a forever thing

username4 the way melbourne gp is gonna be so awkward next month...

└ username1 why does everyone have to make everything about that 🙄 let them live

└ username2 no fr like can we focus on the music instead

username5 oscar ain't shit anyway, ur so much better without him queen

└ username3 y'all don't even know what happened, stop being toxic

└ username6 they literally both asked for privacy can u respect that maybe

alexandrasaintmleux being home suits u sm! can't wait for the new era

└ username2 once a wag always a wag

username7 THE BREAKUP ALBUM IS COMING AND IM HERE FOR IT

username8 take all the time u need but also pls drop a song soon we're starving 😩

lando yooo text me when you get the chance !

└ username1 THEIR FRIENDSHIP LIVES

└username2 oscar piastri you can't break this one

username9 some of y'all are being so mean for no reason, they were cute together and now they're not, it happens

username10 manifesting a collab with sabrina on this album 🕯️

liked by lando, alex_albon and 467,958 others

oscarpiastri Last few days of prep before heading home for the season opener. Ready 💪

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username1 THATS MY BABY GOAT

username2 we're so taking that wdc this year

lando looking a bit weak mate might need another few months of training

└ oscarpiastri stick to gaming mate

└ carlossainz55 Children, behave 😂

└ username1 THIS INTERACTION

username3 we're so back. man's entering his thirst trap era and we love to see it

└ username1 healing through gym pics, real

username4 the transformation from rookie to absolute unit we love to see it

username5 melbourne's gonna go crazy for him

└ username2 the city will be pretty much covered with his face

username7 the post-breakup glow >>>>>>

username8 bro said watch me get faster AND hotter

username9 yn is stronger than me bc i definitely would've given him another chance

georgerussell63 Looking strong 💪🏼

└ lando but still slower than me

└ oscarpiastri We'll see about that mate

└ username3 WHAT IS LANDO'S PROBLEM

aussiegp Our hometown hero getting ready to give us a show 🇦🇺

username10 YN GET BACK WITH HIM I BEGGG

liked by shortandbrina, livbedumb and 119 others

definitelynotyn not me stalking his instagram at 2am with a glass of rosé in hand... why he gotta post gym pics looking like THAT 😭 someone take my phone away fr because what if i do something stupid like text him rn???? also why does he have to look so good while training I HATE HIM

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shortandbrina girl DELETE instagram rn i'm not joking!! calling u in 2 mins

└ definitelynotyn too late i already watched his story 3 times help

midwestprincess this is why we don't drink wine alone bestie... coming over with ice cream and we're watching mean girls

└ definitelynotyn pls hurry before i do something stupid like listen to our playlist

livbedumb first rule of breakups: BLOCK THE GYM PROGRESS POSTS!!!! trust me on this one

└ definitelynotyn but what if i just want to check if he's doing okay 🥲

└ gracieeeeee she's lost it completely someone intervene

arithegood not me literally writing a song about this exact situation last week 💀 wine drunk stalking is universal bestie

└ definitelynotyn pls send me the song i just know it'll hurt so good

phoebenotbuffay okay but like... we've all been there 😭 remember when i almost texted #him after he decided to walk around in those short shorts

└ definitelynotyn at least urs wasn't wearing race suits that make his arms look like THAT

whostaylorswiftanyway time to write a song about it bestie x

└ definitelynotyn already got three verses and a bridge done ngl

liked by username1, username2 and 6,974 others

f1updates Melbourne is getting ready for the Australian GP! The city is covered in @/oscarpiastri billboards and posters as they prepare to welcome their home hero

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username1 imagine being yn trying to get coffee and boom there's your ex's face on a 50ft billboard 💀

username2 the way you literally can't escape his face anywhere in the cbd this week

username3 the way this gp would've been so different if they were still together... remember last year?

└ username1 they were the cutest in the paddock

└ username2 pls she probably won't even be in melbourne this year

username4 our boy is everywhere and we love to see it!!

username5 the promotional team really said oscar piastri world domination

username6 the billboards are giving everything they need to give tbh

username7 maybe she should drop the breakup album during race week for maximum chaos

└ username1 now that would be iconic behavior

└ username3 the way the charts and the podium would be fighting for his attention

username8 MELBOURNE IS OSCARLAND

username9 imagine not being an oscar fan rn… or worse, being his ex

username10 CAN SOMEBODY THINK OF OUR GIRL YN

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liked by lando, charles_leclerc and 597,388 others

oscarpiastri Seems like there's a few of me around Melbourne at the moment... has anyone noticed? 😅

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username1 OSCAR FUCKING PIASTRI

username2 HE DID NOT

lando bit of an upgrade for the city tbh └ oscarpiastri Better than your face mate

username3 OH HE'S MESSY FOR THIS ONE

└ username1 posting this RIGHT after her story i'm screaming

username4 he chose violence today and i'm here for it

mclaren Our guy's everywhere! Can't wait for the weekend 🧡

└ username2 admin pretending they don't see what's happening here

username5 THE TIMING OF THIS POST??? someone's feeling petty

username6 he really said "oh you can't escape me? let me show you why" 💀

georgerussell63 Just ran into your face in the airport

username7 the way he probably had these pics ready and WAITED

username8 bro saw her story and chose chaos

danielricciardo looking good mate! although i remember when it was my face everywhere 👴 └ oscarpiastri Times change old man

username9 it's giving "oh you miss seeing me? here's more" energy actually

username10 focusing on the important stuff: he looks good in every single billboard

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liked by harrystyles, sabrinacarpenter and 1,389,647 others

yourinstagram missing tour life so much today! can't wait to get back on the road and see all your beautiful faces again 💕 thankful for the memories we've made together x

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username1 MY GIRL I MISS HER

username2 the way she posted this exactly after THAT story... we see you

└ username3 damage control era

troyesivan SUPERSTAR 🤩🤩

username4 girl we know what (who) you're really missing

└ username2 not her trying to distract us 😭

username5 we're not fooled bestie but we support you

sabrinacarpenter miss you too angel!! ❤️

└ yourinstagram love you sabs 🥺

username6 NOT THE DAMAGE CONTROL POST

username7 WE NEED A TOUR ASAP

gracieabrams I miss being on the road with you 🥹🥹

username8 EVERYONE TALKIG ABOUT OSCAR HELP

username9 can we talk about how good she looked on tour though??

username10 the way she's probably sitting with sabrina rn planning damage control posts

└ username11 the group chat must be WILD right now

liked by midwestprincess, livbedumb and 109 others

definitelynotyn well. something just came in the mail and i think i might actually throw up. universe really said "you thought that instagram story wasn't enough embarrassment for one day?"

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shortnbrina GIRL CHECK YOUR TEXTS RN

└ definitelynotyn I'M HAVING A CRISIS

midwestprincess the way i SPRINTED here when you texted

└ definitelynotyn help what do i do

└ midwestprincess BREATHE FIRST

gracieeee wait is that what i think it is? 🏁

└ definitelynotyn 🙃🙃🙃

└ gracieeee OH MY GOD????

livbedumb the timing… someone's been plotting

└ definitelynotyn don't. i can't think about that.

maddiebeer okay but like… are you going?

└ definitelynotyn MADS PLS I'M ALREADY SPIRALING

└ maddiebeer that's not a no 👀

arithegood manifesting a rain delay so you have to stay longer

└ definitelynotyn I HAVEN'T EVEN DECIDED IF I'M GOING

└ arithegood sure jan

phoebenotbuffay imagine if you'd actually posted this on main too

└ definitelynotyn DON'T EVEN JOKE ABOUT THAT

└ phoebenotbuffay too soon? 😂

dulapeep at least you have time to plan outfits

└ definitelynotyn NOT HELPING

└ dulapeep the green dress. trust me.

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liked by lando, charles_leclerc and 665,583 others

oscarpiastri Close. Bring on tomorrow

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username1 THATS MY BABY GOAT

username2 oscar piastri man of few words

username3 pole position if he was still with yn

mclaren Our home champ 🧡

username4 OKAY CHAT DO WE THINK YN WILL ATTEND THE RACE??

└ username1 maybe focus on racing?? this isn't about his ex

lando sorry about that

└ oscarpiastri Should've just let me keep it

username5 can't help but think about yn in parc fermé for his win tomorrow but they're not together anymore

username6 HES WINNING TOMORROW THERE'S NOTHING THAT CAN CHANGE THAT

charles_leclerc An existential crisis later

└ carlossainz55 Let him breathe

└ username1 HUUUH WHAT ARE THEY TALKING ABOUT

username7 brb listening to yn's songs about him.. specially lover

liked by midwestprincess, shortandbrina and 107 others

definitelynotyn watching from my couch because apparently i'm the biggest coward in the universe. the pass is literally staring at me from my coffee table. i hate myself.

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shortnbrina GET IN YOUR CAR RIGHT NOW

└ definitelynotyn I CAN'T

└ shortnbrina YES YOU CAN I'M CALLING YOU AN UBER

midwestprincess GIRL THERE'S STILL 40 LAPS YOU CAN LITERALLY MAKE IT

└ definitelynotyn and then what?? walk in mid-race??

└ midwestprincess YES EXACTLY LIKE A MAIN CHARACTER WOULD

livbedumb not you watching his every move on tv when you could be there

└ definitelynotyn this is less scary ok

└ livbedumb is it though??

maddiebeer remember when you said you'd never be that girl who's too scared to face her feelings?

└ definitelynotyn low blow mads

whostaylorswiftanyway THE PASS IS RIGHT THERE GO GET YOUR MAN

└ definitelynotyn STOP YELLING AT ME

└ whostaylorswiftanyway NO

gracieeee remember when you said his note was the sweetest thing ever? remember crying about how much you missed him? but sure stay on your couch

└ definitelynotyn this is emotional manipulation

definitelynotyn FINE YALL WIN. CALLING A CAR RN

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liked by shortnbrina, landitooooo and 113 others

definitelynotyn we did some talking. then we did some kissing. then we did some more talking. then we did some more kissing. might have cried a bit (him too). wearing his sweatshirt again. life's funny sometimes.

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midwestprincess OH GOD FINALLY

gracieeee I'M SOBBING

leclercccccc FINALLY you accepted the follow request

└ definitelynotyn oh my god

└ leclercccccc i helped with the speech you know

└ notoscarpiastri mate.

└ leclercccccc you're welcome btw

landitooooo took you both long enough bloody hell

└ notoscarpiastri says you

└ landitooooo oi what's that supposed to mean

└ shortnbrina no idea really

└ definitelynotyn lando norris and sabrina carpenter... there's stuff you need to explain

arithegood THE TIMELINE HAS BEEN RESTORED

└ definitelynotyn dramatic much

└ arithegood says the girl who showed up mid-race

whostaylorswiftanyway I expect a full debrief tomorrow but I'm happy for you my girl

notoscarpiastri Can we go back to the kissing?

└ definitelynotyn please

liked by username1, username2 and 8,594 others

popbuzz YN AND OSCAR PIASTRI SPOTTED TOGETHER IN MELBOURNE

view all comments

username1 THE SWEATSHIRT THE SWEATSHIRT THE SWEATSHIRT

└ username2 SHE'S WEARING HIS CLOTHES AGAIN

username3 FROM SPINNING OUT TO BREAKFAST DATES IN 24 HOURS

└ username2 character development at its finest

username4 IM GOING TO CRY THEY'RE BACK TOGETHER

username5 Sources say he went to her place last night...

└ username1 and didn't leave 👀

username6 I CAN'T BELIEVE THEY REALLY GOT BACK TOGETHER

username7 this is proof that crying over your ex on main actually works

username8 YN IS A WAG AGAIN OMFG

username9 everybody say thank you australia gp billboards with oscar's face

username10 OSCAR LOVE SONGS ARE SO BACK

username11 WE WON SO HARD

liked by yourinstagram, lando and 876,494 others

oscarpiastri Home race took some unexpected turns both on and off track. P9 wasn't the result we wanted, but somehow still ended up winning this weekend.

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username1 HE'S SOOOO

username2 LOST THE RACE BUT GOT THE GIRL??

lando mate that's actually smooth

└ oscarpiastri Learned from the best

mclaren We'll take this kind of victory too 🧡

username3 THE THIRD PICTURE IM SOBBING

username4 mans really said forget p9 i got the girl

username5 HE'S SO BOYFRIEND WE'RE SO BACK

nicolepiastri ❤️

username6 OSCAR PIASTRI THE MAN THAT YOU ARE

username7 oscar's guide to get back with your ex with just ten simple steps

sabrinacarpenter FINALLY !!! OUR GIRL CAN STOP MOPING AROUND

└ chappellroan now we need oscar's friend to grow some balls too

└ oscarpiastri @/lando

└ lando well...

└ username1 OMFG LANDO AND SABRINA??

└ username2 WHAT JUST HAPPENED

username8 I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS IS REAL LIFE

yourinstagram 🥺🥺 i love you

[ryemiffie]

I love imagining the scenario where one of Bruce's kids is getting married but no one knows Bruce's identity and it creates shenanigans. Like for example, Dick is marrying Starfire and she doesn't know Bruce's identity.

And they of course want Bruce at the wedding since he's Dick's dad, but they also want a hero as security due to the nature of the wedding, not only as a wedding between two heroes but also a Wayne wedding (not to mention holding a wedding like that in gotham is never easy) which is a pretty big deal in both respects and garners a lot of attention to be the perfect opportunity for a villian attack. So Starfire and Dick decide to request a justice league member there as security. Some heroes are eliminated due to them already being meant to attend as guests who are meant to be able to enjoy the wedding and some already have missions that need their attention, like Wonder Woman, Aquaman, and the Martian Manhunter are busy off-world, Shazam and HawkGirl are busy with a villian who's been on the run, and Superman is supposed to be doing press for the wedding as Clark, so they decide to give the task to Batman seeing as he's more than qualified and is already accustomed to the area (gotham), he can't figure out a way to decline the mission without risking his identity being leaked since he really has no reason to not be able to do it, except of course saying he has civilian business, on the day of the wedding, at the exact time of the wedding.. yeah hell no, Batman is way to paranoid to say something like that! So he agrees to do security as Batman for the wedding while also agreeing to attend the wedding as Bruce, ya' know, so people don't suspect anything about his identity due to the situation.

And before you ask yes Dick has realised the situation but no he is not helping Bruce out of it because its fucking funny to him, and none of the other batkids agree to where the suit for the day since they're also guests and they also find the situation funny as hell. So cue Bruce trying to constantly switch between making appearances as Bruce and doing security as Batman, like the classic sitcom episode where the person has to constantly switch between one date to the next, but it's Batman just trying to enjoy his kid's wedding.

[ranboolivesaysstuff]

HEY! Just because I am now 20 I think having something to kind of re establish boundaries would be good! Considering the ones I put all those times ago have changed :D GENERAL RULES! Do not be racist, sexist, homophobic, antisemitic, ableist, or discriminatory against anyone for any reason. Please if someone is calling you out for things you have done or said, please self-reflect and take the proper steps to change or remove yourself from the community. If you see something you do not like, and it IS MADE WORSE BY BRINGING ATTENTION TO IT, THEN IGNORE IT! Bringing attention to problems that just arent really problems with either the community or me in general are not worth it! Please use common sense when thinking about what/what not to engage with! I personally wish that people in the community do NOT engage with people who just obviously do not like me! Chances are they want a reaction from it so it is MUCH better to just not argue with someone whos mind you will not change! ALLOW CRITICISM OF ME AND MY CONTENT! IF YOU DONT AGREE OR DONT LIKE THEN DO NOT ARGUE ABOUT IT!!!! ALL IT WILL DO IS CAUSE UNESSICARY DRAMA!!! DO NOT make ANY comments or content about me that is explicitly sexual. I completely understand that lately there have been bits due to the changes in how I’ve been presenting myself and how I’ve been presenting more femininely, but that does not allow anyone to use that as an excuse to sexualize any features and such that are more feminine or masculine. Remember that femininity is not sexual and should not be seen or created as such just because its there! (for example, the Vtuber costume and chat being overly weird over the added boobs where there was no need for it). DO NOT draw me in ways that are sexual either, such as highlighting any aspects in a sexual way, or making the content something sexual. I am completely okay with being drawn as any body type, masculine presenting or feminine presenting, as long as you stick to this! PLEASE DO NOT SPECULATE ABOUT MY PERSONAL LIFE!!! Making jokes about certain topics CAN be fine, but a line is crossed when it becomes a legitimate speculation or if a joke is said when I have expressed my discomfort! RESPECT MY FRIENDS!!! All of my friends are their own, incredible people. And they do not deserve to be lumped in or referred to as JUST "my friend". Be respectful in their chats even when im not there, and be respectful to all of them everywhere else! IF SOMEONE IS TRYING TO INFORM YOU THAT YOU MAY BE DOING SOMETHING WRONG PLEASE LISTEN!!! There has been a lot of times in which I have seen people be unwilling to change in the face of a genuine discussion, and that is not something I want in the community! I should NOT have to police every single thing because it should NOT take me saying something in order to change your mind! As my words are not worth more or less when it comes to a lot of subjects! And lastly, do good. Whenever you have the ability to. BE POSITIVE!!! The hater mindset is very draining and can be very toxic to both you and the people around you, so highlight the good instead of the bad if you have the ability to! I am so incredibly proud of how far this community has come, and I cannot wait for the future!!! I have spent some time writing this, but it may not be perfect, so I will update this as time goes on and I think of more, or if something needs to be SUPER cleared up, but for now these are the main ones! I will NOT be updating this after every little thing however, as I do not want you guys to feel like the only way that something is wrong is if I talk about it! As you guys should be able to sustain yourself as a community without my consistent input! Imma go enjoy my birthday by eating a pizza :) thank you all!

[brunchable]

Christmas Present | B. B.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x F! Reader Themes: Christmas Meet-Ugly, forced proximity, enemies-to-lovers(ish), rom-com Summary: You and Bucky are fighting over the last deluxe holiday gift set. The petty bickering escalates into a full-blown argument in front of shocked holiday shoppers, causing store security to intervene. As punishment, the frazzled guard handcuffs you together in the security office until you both "calm down." A/N : This oneshot is part of my 4K Follower christmas themed celebration. I hope you enjoy this first one! Thank you so much for reading my stories! Dividers by @saradika-graphics

It was supposed to be a quick trip. Grab the deluxe toy train set, pay, and leave. That was the plan. But life had other plans, and those plans came in the shape of a six-foot something man with a smirk as sharp as the jawline above it.

You reached for the last box on the shelf—your prize, your golden ticket, the sole reason you braved the chaos of twenty-third shoppers.

"Excuse me, I believe I was here first," you said sweetly, gripping the box.

"Excuse you, sweetheart," the man countered, one metal hand already gripping the other end of the box. "I had my eye on this before you decided to swoop in like some holiday vulture."

"Holiday vulture?!" you spat, yanking the box closer to your chest. "I don’t see your name on it, Terminator."

He raised an eyebrow, leaning in just enough to make you flinch. “Name’s Bucky, not Terminator. And I’d be happy to write it on the box for you... after I take it home.”

“Not happening,” you hissed, tugging harder. The box creaked ominously under the strain.

“Let go,” he growled.

“You let go!”

By now, a crowd of amused onlookers had formed, phones out, capturing every moment like a live-action reality show. One kid shouted, “Go lady! You’ve got this!” while a woman in a reindeer sweater whispered, “This is better than The Bachelor.”

“Look, lady,” Bucky said through gritted teeth, “I don’t want to ruin Christmas for you—”

“Oh, really? That’s what this feels like!”

“But my friend’s kid specifically asked for this,” he finished, as if that were a valid excuse.

You rolled your eyes. “Well, so did my niece. And unlike you, I didn’t wait until the last minute to shop.”

“Your cart’s full of candles!” he shot back, pointing to your precariously stacked haul.

You gasped, scandalized. “They’re scented candles and they make great gifts! Not that you’d understand.”

“I understand they’re not as hard to find as this!” he said, gesturing wildly to the now-doomed train set.

The tug-of-war escalated, your battle waging in the aisle of festive chaos. The crowd grew, complete with commentary.

“Bet five bucks on the lady!”

“Ten on the guy with the arm!”

And then—CRASH. The box tore clean down the middle, spilling its contents across the floor. Tiny train cars scattered like shrapnel, and a miniature conductor figure flew into a nearby stroller, making the baby cry.

Gasps echoed through the store as you and Bucky froze, still clutching your respective halves. Somewhere in the distance, someone yelled, “SANTA WOULDN’T APPROVE!”

A whistle cut through the air. “Alright, break it up, you two!”

You turned to find a middle-aged security guard glaring at you like an exhausted babysitter. His name tag read “Carl,” and he looked about one tantrum away from quitting.

“We were just—”

“I don’t care!” Carl snapped, his moustache twitching with barely contained rage. “Both of you. Security office. Now.”

The security office smelled like stale coffee and regret. You sat handcuffed to Bucky, who, despite his protests, looked far too comfortable with the situation.

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered, yanking futilely on the cuffs. “We’re adults!”

“Debatable,” Carl deadpanned, sipping from his 'World’s Best Grandpa' mug. “You two are staying cuffed until you learn how to act like it.”

“I’m not a criminal!” you protested.

“Not what the footage shows,” Carl replied, spinning his chair to reveal the grainy security camera feed of you and Bucky mid-squabble. The freeze-frame of you squawking like a bird while clutching a toy train in a death grip was particularly unflattering.

“I’m offended on her behalf,” Bucky said with a smirk, leaning back in his chair.

“Oh, shut it,” you hissed, elbowing him.

“You’re the one who tore the box!”

“You’re the one with the metal arm. That thing’s basically a wrecking ball!”

Carl slammed his mug down. 

“Enough!” He massaged his temples like a teacher on their last day before retirement. “You’re staying here until I feel confident you won’t burn the store down.”

“Burn the store down?” you repeated, aghast, throwing your hands in the air as much as the cuffs allowed.

“Trust me, I’ve seen worse,” Carl muttered, eyeing both of you like feral raccoons fighting over a sandwich. With an exhausted sigh, he locked the door behind him and muttered something about “needing a damn coffee break,” leaving you and Bucky alone in the tiny, overheated room.

The silence that followed was so oppressive it felt like the room had shrunk. Only the faint, mocking jingle of Jingle Bells played faintly from the store’s speakers as you and Bucky sat shoulder-to-shoulder, stewing.

Bucky, apparently unable to sit still, started bouncing his knee—a rapid, relentless motion that made your entire chair vibrate like a washing machine on spin cycle.

“Stop that,” you snapped, glaring at him.

“Stop what?” he asked innocently, his knee bouncing harder.

“Your leg,” you hissed. “The whole chair is shaking! Are you trying to make me seasick?”

His lips twitched, clearly enjoying your misery. “It’s a free country.”

“Not for your knee, it’s not!”

“Well, maybe I wouldn’t be bouncing my knee if I wasn’t chained to someone with candle obsession issues,” he shot back.

“Oh, that’s rich coming from the guy who went full WWE over a toy train set!”

“You’re the one who tore it in half, lady!” he said, pointing accusingly.

“I was fighting for my family’s honor,” you retorted dramatically, crossing your arms as much as you could.

“You mean your candles.”

“It’s called being thoughtful, you Grinch impersonator!”

His knee bounced harder, and you grabbed his leg in desperation, making him pause. “Seriously, stop! I’m going to throw up, and then you’ll really regret this.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop. But only because you look like you might actually hurl, and I don’t need Carl coming back and cuffing me to the radiator this time.”

“So,” Bucky continued after a beat of silence, “Do you always fight strangers over train sets, or is today special?”

You glared at him. “Do you always shop last minute and ruin people’s holidays, or is that your side gig?”

He snorted. “Ruining holidays? That’s harsh. I’m saving them.”

“By what? Sabotaging shoppers?”

“By making sure my best friend’s kid gets the one thing he asked for,” Bucky replied, voice softening slightly.

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity. 

“Okay, that’s… kind of sweet,” you admitted reluctantly.

“What about you?” he asked. “Candles for everyone?”

“No,” you mumbled. “The train set was for my niece. She’s… had a tough year.”

Bucky nodded, silence enveloping the two of you yet again, the tinny chorus of Frosty the Snowman blared overhead, and the absurdity of your situation finally hit you. You started giggling, and to your surprise, so did he.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, still grinning.

“This,” you said between laughs. “This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever been part of.”

“Right,” he agreed, laughing harder.

For the first time since being forced to sit there, you weren’t arguing. Well, unless you counted arguing about whose laugh was uglier.

Carl finally returned, jangling the keys like a janitor who had seen too much. His Santa hat was slightly askew, and his mustache twitched with a mix of frustration and exhaustion. He looked like someone’s adorable grandpa who had just been told the grandkids set fire to the Christmas tree.

“Alright, you two,” he grumbled, unlocking the cuffs. “You’re free. But before you go…”

He planted his hands on his hips, his gut straining against his red vest, and glared at you like you’d just stolen cookies from the jar. 

“I’ve been doing this job for fifteen years, and let me tell you, I’ve seen a lot of nonsense. But this—” he waved a hand between you and Bucky “—takes the fruitcake. Grown adults fighting over a toy train set like it’s the last turkey on Earth? Really?”

You started to open your mouth to argue, but Carl cut you off with a stern wag of his finger.

“No, no. Don’t even try to explain. You’re both guilty. Guilty of being Christmas disasters. And you…” he pointed at Bucky, his stubby finger trembling with indignation. “You’re what? Pushing 40? Shouldn’t you know better?”

That’s when Bucky’s lips twitched. And twitched again. And suddenly, he was laughing. Not just chuckling—a full-on, shoulder-shaking laugh that echoed through the tiny room.

Carl’s mustache twitched in annoyance. “What’s so funny?”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said between gasps for air, “but… I’m being lectured by someone who looks like Santa’s understudy.” He wiped a tear from his eye. “You’re like a cute little Christmas elf—just missing the pointy shoes.”

Carl’s face turned as red as his vest. “I am not cute!” he barked.

“You kinda are,” Bucky said, grinning.

You smacked his arm. “Stop antagonizing him!”

But even you couldn’t suppress a giggle as Carl threw his hands in the air. “You know what? I’m done. Get out. Both of you. Before I call other mall security and have you escorted out by the Grinch Squad.”

Bucky saluted dramatically. “Merry Christmas, Carl!”

Carl muttered something about needing a stiff eggnog and waddled back to his desk, leaving you and Bucky to stumble out of the security office.

“Well, that was fun,” you deadpanned, starting to walk away, only to stop when Bucky called out.

“Wait! Hey!”

You turned, eyebrows raised. “What? Did you leave your dignity back there?”

He ignored the jab, shoving his hands into his pockets. For the first time since the ordeal started, he actually looked... awkward.

“I, uh… was just wondering what you’re doing after this.”

You blinked at him, genuinely caught off guard. “What am I doing? Are you serious?”

“Yeah, serious,” he said with a little shrug, his smirk less cocky and more boyish now. “You’re, uh… funny. And kind of cute, when you’re not threatening to strangle me over toy trains.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed. 

“This—” you gestured dramatically between you both “—is the foundation of your flirting strategy? Chaos, insults, and shared custody of a train set?”

“Worked, didn’t it?” he teased, grinning now.

You huffed, crossing your arms. “I just spent an hour handcuffed to you while debating whether or not to throw you out a window, and now you want to… hang out?”

“Why not?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, like this was the most reasonable suggestion in the world.

“Because this is ridiculous!” you exclaimed. “I barely know you, we’re still enemies by all accounts, and—”

“You haven’t said no,” he interrupted, cutting you off with a pointed look.

You opened your mouth to argue, but nothing came out. Damn him and his stupid smirk.

Finally, you sighed, half-laughing at the sheer absurdity. “Fine. But if this turns into another wrestling match over a menu, I’m walking out.”

“Sure,” he said, grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “Whatever you want.”

As you both walked out of the office areas and back to the mall, you muttered under your breath, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“Believe it, sweetheart,” he said, falling into step beside you. “And next time? Maybe we’ll skip the handcuffs… unless you’re into that.”

You glared at him, but the corners of your mouth betrayed you, curving into an unwilling smile. Maybe chaos wasn’t such a bad foundation after all.

The morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, illuminating the room as Bucky groggily reached for the remote. Still half-asleep, he flicked on the TV, more out of habit than interest. The morning show’s upbeat jingle played, and he squinted at the screen, his brain catching up to the cheerful voices of the two hosts.

“—and now, for what might be the most hilarious Christmas shopping moment caught on camera!” the female host announced, barely suppressing her laughter.

Her co-host, a grinning man in a Santa tie, chimed in, “Oh, this is a good one. Forget Hallmark—this is real-life rom-com material, folks. Roll the clip!”

Bucky froze mid-stretch as the screen transitioned to shaky footage of himself and you, locked in a dramatic tug-of-war over the train set in the middle of the toy aisle. The commentary from the crowd was clear as day.

“Go lady! You’ve got this!”

“Ten bucks on the guy with the metal arm!”

“Oh, no,” Bucky muttered, sitting up straighter, dread pooling in his stomach.

The video jumped to the box tearing in half, scattering train pieces like confetti, followed by the baby wailing and someone shouting, “SANTA WOULDN’T APPROVE!”

The hosts erupted into laughter.

“Okay, okay,” the woman said, wiping a tear from her eye. “I’m calling it now—this is the meet-cute of the decade. I can hear the Hallmark writers typing this into a script.”

Her co-host nodded vigorously. “Absolutely. Two strangers, both fighting for the same toy on the eve of Christmas eve—classic enemies-to-lovers setup.”

They both howled with laughter as the clip transitioned to grainy security footage of you and Bucky cuffed together, bickering like an old married couple.

“And this is where the movie writes itself,” the man said, pointing to the screen. “They’re forced to spend time together, cuffed in the security office. Sparks fly. Cue the heartwarming ending!”

The woman leaned toward the camera, her expression conspiratorial. “So, the real question is… did they exchange numbers? Did they get coffee? Did they—”

Bucky groaned and buried his face in his hands as his phone buzzed on the nightstand. He grabbed it, flipping it over to see a message from Sam:

Sam: Congratulations, you’re famous. 

A second message immediately followed:

Sam: Also, what happened next? Don’t leave me hanging! Did you at least get her number?

Bucky tossed his phone onto the bed with a groan, only for it to buzz again. This time it was Steve:

Steve: They’re right. This does sound like the start of a love story. Please tell me you didn’t blow it.

“Unbelievable,” Bucky muttered, scrubbing a hand down his face as the TV hosts continued speculating.

“What do we think, folks?” the male host asked, gesturing dramatically. “Should we start a Twitter campaign to find out what happened next? I need closure!”

“Absolutely!” the female host replied. “If you’re watching this, toy train couple, please—reach out. America is invested.”

“I’m never leaving the house again.” Bucky groaned louder, sinking into the pillows. 

His phone buzzed again.

Sam: Famous AND trending. Look at you.

Bucky grabbed a pillow and smothered his face with it, his muffled voice barely audible: “I hate Christmas.”

He sighed and shifted, his pillow falling to the floor—he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head, his irritation melted away as he looked to his right, where your figure was still peacefully curled under the covers. Your hair was a mess from the night before, your cheek pressed against the pillow in a way that made you look adorably innocent—though Bucky distinctly remembered you weren’t so innocent a few hours ago.

A small, satisfied smirk tugged at his lips. He let out a breath, shaking his head as he muttered to himself, “Actually. . . Maybe I don’t hate it too much.”

tags: @lomlbuckybarnes @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @winterslove1917 @hzdhrtss @mostlymarvelgirl

@missvelvetsstuff @unaxv @carnal-vogue @bmyva1entine @wheredidiputmyfish

@thereoncewasagirlnamedjane @wanda-widow @filmologetica @awaywithtime @Thealyrs

@greatenthusiasttidalwave @winchestert101 @strawberrybisou @unaxv @asgards-princess-of-mischief

@fynnwolff @Janonymus0 @veronicapaula

[eunoiaflow3r]

jealousy, jealousy - harry potter x reader

requests open!!

• warning(s): fluff mostly lol, harry pov, not proofread fr

• word count: 1.2k

• request(ed): “can you please write a jealous harry potter when his girlfriend starts hanging out with cedric?”

• summary: the request lol

————————————————————————

Every Friday after classes, Harry, you, Ron, and Hermione would find a quiet place to watch a movie on the projector Ron had snuck in. It was a tradition the four of you had come up with after finally each falling into your respective couples. You and Harry were first - you both knew you liked each other but never said anything. After a heated argument one day in the library (mostly you were frustrated he wasn’t being safe and smart with his life after an encounter with you-know-who) and he kissed you right in the middle of your rant. You two had been together ever since. Ron and Hermione finally admitted their feelings shortly after.

Tonight, you were late. Only by a few minutes, but enough to have Harry wondering where you were and how you were doing. What he didn’t expect to see or hear was your giggling followed by a deep voice coming his way. His head turned quickly to find you walking towards the group with Cedric Diggory at your side. Harry furrowed his brows and looked to Hermione and Ron in confusion. They didn’t look as worried as he was, but still offered no kind of relieving explanation. Once you reached them, he watched as you said goodbye and walked over to lean down and kiss Harry on the cheek. Cedric waved to the group before heading forward someplace else.

Harry cleared his throat. “Erm was that Diggory over there?”

“Yeah, it was,” you start, “I ran into him and we were talking about the Transfiguration assignment before we realized we were heading the exact same way.”

“Oh, hm, alright.”

And that was the end of that. Harry didn’t press any further. He didn’t see the need and he wasn’t the type. He was just glad you were at his side now and he could enjoy the movie with you.

The next day at breakfast, Harry listened to how worried you were about passing two of your classes. He tried to tell you everything would be alright but he could hardly get a word in. He didn’t mind though. He liked listening to you even if half of it wasn’t really making any sense.

“Y/N!”

Both Harry and your head turn to the noise. It was Cedric Diggory heading your way, papers in hand.

“Hello Potter.” Cedric says smiling.

“Diggory.” He nods politely.

“Y/N, here are those notes that I promised you. I was able to find them in my things from last yea I had buried.”

“Oh my God thank you!” Harry watches you exclaim. “You’re a life saver!”

Harry rolls his eyes as Cedric walks away. He’s even more surprised when you jump out of your seat.

“I have to go study these Harry, I’ll see you later.”

Unfortunately for him, later wasn’t until the night where he was finally able to see you holed up in your room, Diggory’s notes in hand. Like the good boyfriend he is, Harry brought your favorite snacks because he knew you’d want them and wasn’t sure if you had eaten or not. You told him all about what you had learned and understood now that you had the notes, and he stroked your hair and listened until you fell asleep on his chest. For some reason, even though nothing was wrong, every time you mentioned Cedric and his oh so helpful notes there was a little ball of fire simmering in Harry’s chest. Tonight he would ignore it, but he wasn’t sure for how much longer he would be able to do that.

“Do you think this Diggory thing is weird?” Harry asks Ron during a Wizard’s Chess game the next day. You and Hermione were off in the library looking for a next good read. Harry and Ron weren’t as interested in doing that.

“What Cedric? What thing?”

“Well, I don’t know. First he walks her to us on Friday and now he’s giving her notes?”

Ron stuffs his face with toast before answering, mouth full. “Well, I don’t know, sounds innocent enough to me, she’s been really stressing about that class.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

After the match, Harry and Ron make their way to the library and see you and Hermione side by side by side looking looking at a book that was thick enough that your foot could probably break if it was accidentally dropped. Unfortunately, Cedric was right in between the two of you.

“This is amazing.” You gleam. Harry watched as you smiled ear to ear looking at the pages in front of you. It didn’t help the ball of fire that Cedric was smiling too.

“Hey guys.” Hermion says. You look up and when you spot Harry you make your way over to him.

“How was chess?” you ask as you kiss him gently on the lips.

Harry kisses you back while still keeping his eye on Cedric. He notices that Cedric’s eyes haven’t left you. “Ron won. What’s going on here?”

“Y/N and I were looking for a really good fantasy book about this Herbologist and Cedric helped us find something even better since we couldn’t find the copy we were looking for. Guess it was already checked out.”

“Hmm.” Harry says.

“What’s wrong?” You ask.

Harry shakes his head as if to say nothing.

Cedric greets the boys and then bids you all goodbye. Harry thought that still his eyes lingered on you for a little too long, but nothing in your response to him gave Harry any pause. You weren’t giving Diggory any extra attention that gave any problem but still he couldn’t quite get the flames to calm down.

Harry held your hand as he walked you to your dorm. He was quiet almost the whole time and let you talk about the book Cedric had introduced you to. To be honest, and he hated, it sounded like a really good book. And Harry hated that. He knows it’s innocent and nothing is technically wrong, but still he was upset because Cedric lately has seemed to be able to help you with so many things.

“Harry?” You ask.

“Hm?” Before he knew it you had already reached your dorm, but he was lost in thought.

“What’s wrong? Honestly this time..” You ask.

“Nothing.” He says. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Harry, you’re lying.”

Harry wanted to deny and argue, but he knew that you knew him better than that and would beat the answer out of him sooner or later.

“I just, you know, Diggory has been doing a lot for you lately and the way he was looking at you today was just..ya’know I -”

“Harry, are you jealous?”

Harry’s cheeks turned a shade of pink that made you smile.

Harry leaned into you as you cupped on of your hands onto the side of his face and the other ran through his hair.

“Harry, I only have eyes for you. You don’t ever need to worry.”

You press your lips against his and he kisses back with fervor. He liked that your lips tasted like cherries for some reason and he savored it while his hands wrapped around your waist. He got butterflies when you moaned as he gently bit your lip. He loves the feeling of you against him and he just wanted to get closer and be able to be in this moment with you forever.

“That’s good to hear.” He says when you finally break away. He could feel heat in his cheeks almost hotter than the moment the two of you just shared.

“Jealousy is not a good look on you Potter. I prefer flushed instead.”

[hcneymooners]

⋆ the heart devises, desires, can be stolen.

modern!young!ambessa x curvy!best friend!reader. men & minors dni.

synopsis: ambessa has always been your best friend, and you hers—one half of a duo everyone envies. but it turns out she’ll take any chance to remind you that no one else gets to have you.

cw: straight smut bro i'm ovulating real bad, power dynamics, homoerotic friendships, rich girl bullshit, pining, sexually explicit content, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, oral sex, face riding, impact play, dom/sub, brat!reader, brat tamer!ambessa, dom!ambessa, praise kink, face-sitting, face fucking, possessive sex, accidental voyeurism (she eats you out while you're on the phone with a date), possible infidelity? may be up to interpretation, insane sexual tension, kinda hate sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, clit play, humiliation kink, reader is black-coded but everyone can read!

notes: i have nothing to say for myself. enjoy. love you.

the problem with the medarda heiress is that she’s allowed to want you, but you are not allowed to want her. if you do, you’ve upset something delicate and impossible to rebalance. you’ve leaned too hard into it, and she’ll punish you for the weight. it was an invisible rule, but enforced with brutal consistency. you, and anyone else she ever deigned to touch, had to understand this law to be allowed inside the thicketed, thorn-laced garden of her lioness heart.

you were strategic. played it smart. tied yourself to her not through confession but through proximity. best friendship. a safe zone, or something close enough to perform as one. still, the world you built together had curdled into something sticky. mutated by a strain of possession that could only belong to two bright, beautiful, brilliant young girls, padded by old money and too many afternoons with nowhere to be. 

you never talked about it, but you both knew: the relationship had grown elevated beyond all else. separate. sacred. whatever existed between you was observed with more affection than most marriages.

she had your coffee order filed away in the notes of your contact card. you had her credit cards sitting untouched in your apple wallet, every limit obscene. you did her makeup when she was afraid to try something new and needed someone who wouldn’t laugh if it all went wrong. her hands hugged the lunar curves of your hips as she measured you for brands you rarely purchased from. urged you to yield to instructions such as stand still while her thumbs pressed deliciously just below your hipbones.

you knew each other best, which meant you hurt each other best. 

when she was displeased with you, she would excise you silently. you’d wake to an instagram feed newly glittering with crowds of people who would ask about the reason you hadn’t been there with rehearsed innocence. in return, you would still celebrate her birthday, but with less respect than owed. show up late. deliver a gift just generic enough to imply you’d forgotten, a last-minute grab from a boutique near the venue. it would make her lips go thin and bloodless at the head of the dinner table, her eyes going flat with insult.

ambessa would follow this with digging her nails into your thigh until she drew both blood and your sharp gasp of pain, and then look over sweetly. her face would enact a perfect collapse, a slow crumple, her face folding into the perfect picture of saccharine concern. 

“jesus, [name],” she’d whisper, a hand on your knee, locs twisted up like a debutante. “are you alright?”

only you could see the violence behind it. it matched your own.

later, to get back at her, you’d lock her out in the cold and text her to call in a favor at the ritz. you’d fall asleep sprawled across your shared bed, cheek pressed to her pillow, her scent making something claw in your chest.

but the worst, the thing that really got her, was when you went on dates. she despised it. viscerally, illogically. 

she’d watch you get ready from the edge of your bed like a housecat preparing to pounce, her long limbs sprawled out in quiet threat. her eyes would follow your reflection in the mirror as you applied gloss and tucked that evening’s pair of earrings into the soft swell of your earlobe. when you reached for your heels, she'd tug the hem of your dress like she was helping, but always, always popped off a bead or caught a thread.

you’d swat her hand away.

 “bessa. stop.”

 she’d just blink, slowly and unreadably. “i’m only fixing it.”

you’d kick at her ankle, not gently. she’d wince, delicately performative. it made you feel better, even though both of you knew she could break you in half if she wanted.

she just never did.

she always waited up.

never slouched. never drowsy. only still. it was like a meditation brought on by jealousy that coiled with nowhere to strike.

ambessa kept the suite dim, lit only by the golden hush of a single lamp and the spill of city lights leering through the windows. she sat poised in one of the chaises like she’d been born there, legs crossed, one hand rubbing idly at her temple as she looked over internship applications. her silk robe was belted in a way that suggested absentmindedness. but with ambessa, nothing ever was.

your entrance was deliberate. you’d come late, always sitting by yourself at the table for a few extra minutes just to strengthen the wound. as you walked in, she looked up, eyes glossy but sharp as if she hadn’t blinked while you were gone. 

your heels hung from your fingers, limp and thoughtless, betraying nothing of the two thousand dollars they’d cost, you had played it risky, had decided to engage with what your mother once called “the wisdom of a whore”. the outfit was an electric blue, comprised of a candalously tight, micro-skirt and a matching beaded tube top that did nothing to hide the hardness of your nipples. 

your hips swayed like a dare. your hair was teased large and soft, fragrant with something tropical and warm, the kind of scent that would linger kindly along bedsheets and a shirt collar. your lip combo was smudged from the sips of the apple martinis you’d ordered, the liquor a toxic green highball. it had felt threatening every single time a sip went down. your teeth bit into your bottom lip, white still gleaming. your edges were immaculate, barely curled. 

you looked expensive. you were sure to taste somewhat like trouble. and she abhorred it.

you hadn't even liked the guy, but you liked his effect. it was cruel, but cruelty was the only language you spoke fluently when ambessa got like this.

her eyes crawled over you. slow. bladed. her fingers twitched, and she covered them with the lip of her robe, anxious to keep her emotions unrevealed. 

“well?” she said.

you blinked. set your purse on the counter like you hadn't noticed her watching. “well, what?”

her lip curled, delicate and venomous. but then, “did you—did you have fun?”

her voice seemed to get smaller by the end, but you caught the subtle narrowing of her eyes. 

you laughed. couldn’t help it. the act was borderline insane. insanely her. you dropped your heels, letting one tumble toward the couch.

“you’re so upset,” you murmured, the sound almost fond.

ambessa stood. “i am not.”

“bessa,” you said, ensuring that you sounded the right side of disappointed. “i thought we agreed to never lie to each other.”

“please,” she scoffed. you smiled wider. you began to move again.

her eyes tracked you, slow and precise, a predator unbothered by the illusion of prey. she waited until you leaned against the island in the kitchen, fiddling with a glass like you might pour yourself water. you didn’t.

then, low and syrupy, “what’d you drink tonight?”

you smirked without turning. “why?”

“i’d like to know what to order if i go there.”

she’d never go there.

you glanced over your shoulder, smiling sharply.

“if you want to know what’s been in my mouth, then come and find out.”

she slipped over like a shadow, walked unrushed and barefoot. her robe parted just enough to flash well-lotioned skin and the flex of lean muscle. her nails were painted a deep oxblood. she didn’t raise her voice when she stopped in front of you, her height even more pronounced in the throes of her possession, but her mouth was hard.

her gaze dropped: first to your gloss-slick mouth, then the dip of your collarbone, then lower still. with it went the last of her mask. her voice grew high and tight.

“did he touch you here?” she asked, reaching out. her fingers hovered. “or was he too busy trying not to cum in his pants the second you sat down?”

you sucked in a breath, heat climbing up the back of your neck.

“you sound jealous,” you said.

“i think you want me to be,” she countered. you had no answer to that.

goosebumps lit up along your arms. you were still warm from dinner, still sticky from the club, but something about ambessa always made you feel brand-new. 

she stepped closer. her hand landed heavy on your hip, fingers sinking in. she wanted you to remember just how bruiseable your body was. her thumb brushed under the edge of your skirt. a threat of a touch.

“did he kiss you?” she whispered, like it would kill her to hear it.

“of course not,” you lied, soft and immediate. you licked along the faded edges of your lip liner.

ambessa smiled. not kindly.

“that’s too bad,” she said. it was so fucking hot that she didn’t mean it.

“did he touch my things?” she asked. her fingers ghosted the curve beneath your top, just under the tight squeeze of your left breast. “put his mouth here?”

“nope,” you answered, popping the ‘p’.

she moved to your hip. “here?”

your breath hitched. you shook your head, slowly. still lying.

“what about here?” her hand slipped behind you, tugged up the hem of your micro-skirt until the under-crease of your ass met the cool air. one finger traced the waistband of your thong. “this was twisted when you walked in. that’s not like you.”

you didn’t answer. your glossed lips just parted slightly, as if something invisible had just struck you. ambessa tilted her head.

“i’ll fix it,” she murmured, voice thick and poisonous. “you know how i hate mess.”

she adjusted the strap of your underwear with surgical precision. the backs of her knuckles grazed the softest part of your skin. she made sure to dip downward, drag a fingertip against your clit just to feel it twitch. 

you didn’t flinch. you couldn’t flinch. then you’d lose.

finally, she stepped back, just barely.

“and what did you have to eat?” she asked, her rounds of questions cinching tighter against your throat with every turn.

you gave a half-shrug, cheeky. “whatever he was paying for.”

ambessa leaned in. she studied you, breath warm across your cheek, and then cupped your chin. with low eyes, she bit at your lip until they opened and then slid her tongue in to make it a proper kiss. she sucked and lapped at you, curling all around the wetness of your mouth and humming with pleasure when you tried to kiss her back.

then she broke the connection, lips almost engorged red from the tension.

you stood there, stunned. her taste now lived on your lips. your pulse lived in your throat.

“well.” she shrugged, casual. “sounds like it was all very unexciting. shall we go to bed?”

she shouldered past you, unconcerned whether you followed.

ambessa didn’t look up from where she was sitting on the bed, not even when you slipped into the bathroom. you left the door cracked, half-inviting her to watch the undressing of you, but she didn’t give you an inch. it was almost worse, that stillness again. how could she withhold and perform perfect patience while her jealousy dirtied her blood?

you brushed your teeth, wiped your face clean of the night, undid your top like it meant nothing, and re-entered the bedroom in just your strapless bra and thong. you tried not to rush. you knew she was waiting for only a second of displayed desperation.

the air was cooler when you stepped out. low lights spilled across the floor from the floating led light bar above the bed. her robe had been abandoned, and her legs were crossed with the intention underneath the scarlet sheer of her babydoll. 

with a stifled sigh of annoyance, you moved toward the dresser to grab your pajamas. but your phone lit up before you could, its thin body vibrating with an incoming call on the bed. it lay there, ringing in suspense of your answer. you squinted and rose on your tiptoes to read the caller id.

[date’s name.]

ambessa’s eyes found it at the same time yours did. she didn’t say anything, but she shut the cover of her ipad case decisively. her gaze lifted to you with the languid, expectant delight of someone about to flip a switch.

“answer it,” she said, voice so even that you knew she must be boiling inside. it wasn’t a request.

your hand hovered. “bessa."

she tilted her head. “you were so sure of yourself earlier. why the hesitation now?”

you sighed, picked it up. “hey,” you greeted, light and airy, as if your best friend wasn’t boring a hole into the side of your head. you were suddenly so aware of your lack of clothing.

ambessa slid off the side of the bed and moved behind you, steps quiet and intentional. she didn’t touch you yet. only looked.

“uh, yeah, i made it home fine,” you said into the phone, forcing a little buyoncy into your voice. “no, it’s cool, i had a great time.”

her hand ghosted over your waist. her fingertips, at first. you turned a fraction of an inch, a subtle warning in your glance. but she wasn’t interested in warnings tonight. she was tuned into her own thing.

you felt the full flatness of her palm, warm and calloused against the small of your back, and then, without further preamble, she pushed you down. you fell with a gasp of surprise, your chest hitting the plush of the mattress and your legs splaying across the cool sheets. 

“shit, sorry! i’m fine,” you said, responding to the sudden concern of the man on the other end of the line. “just tripped.”

you went to twist over your shoulder, but were stopped by a firm hand on the nape of your neck. you froze. this was new. you had no plan for this. carefully, ambessa dragged your hips up until you were in a suitable arch with your ass spilling around the baby pink lace of your thong.

“hold still,” she murmured, lips barely brushing the shell of your ear, “and keep talking.”

you fought to keep your breath even as she bent and placed a heated kiss against your shoulder, sliding further down to tattoo one against your back. her palm flattened over your ass, sliding up and under to grasp at your lower belly. her fingers splayed wide, her mouth finding that soft place between your neck and collarbone.

the graze of her teeth made you moan, which you then tried to transform into a weak excuse for a yawn.

“no, i’m not tired. just—” your voice hitched. she dragged her hand downward, slow as silk through a ring. you felt her tug up the front of your thong, so that your lips bulged obscenely around the rim of the fabric. 

your free hand clenched in the duvet.

“‘m just getting ready for bed,” you lied. or maybe not. maybe this was exactly how it always went with ambessa; submission didn’t look like a loss. you wanted to obey.

the call continued as she dragged the thong away from you, the graze of lace lighting up every nerve. she left it down around your knees, bringing both hands up to spread you wide and dirty. she gazed silently at the bubblegum pink gape of your body, eyes catching the sloppy drip of your pussy as it pulsed open, messy and glistening, your cream leaking onto the sheets with every shaky breath you took.

“such a pretty girl,” she whispered. you heard the rustle of her sliding to her knees. “keep talking or i’ll make you give him a play-by-play.”

she swung herself around so that she could slide under you, hands coming up to clutch at your thighs. you managed to mute the call as she pulled you down, just in time for the wide stripe of her tongue to meet the throbbing heat of your cunt. 

“ohhh fuck, babe,” you groaned, your body falling flush against her mouth. “yeah, holy shit, bessa. right there. please.”

ambessa suctioned her mouth around your clit, suckling and then pulling off with an unnecessary slurp that you knew was done only to make you shiver with embarrassment. 

“put it on speaker.”

then she was back to burying her face inside of you. 

you hesitated. she noticed. she always noticed. her tongue slowed just enough to make it a punishment.

“bessa, i don’t—”

she pulled back, breath damp against your skin. “i said, put it on speaker.”

you fumbled with the phone, thumb slick as you pressed the icon and heard his voice flare through the room. he was still talking. something dumb. something you didn’t care about. 

ambessa hummed, pleased. the vibration traveled straight through your spine.

“hello?” came the tinny voice, tentative now. “you there?”

ambessa hummed again, this time laughing at both of you, and your whole body jolted. you slapped a hand over your mouth, trying not to make a sound, trying not to cum.

“uh-huh,” you said, voice thin and cracking as you ground down into her mouth. “no, i’m—yeah, just—yeah—yeah. shit. um, sorry. thought i dropped the call.”

underneath you, ambessa smiled.

“is this a bad time? ‘cause i can call back.” it was a shame he was sweet. 

ambessa tapped your ass lightly. then sank her teeth into your thigh, not enough to mark, but enough to warn. then she went back in like she had nothing to lose. well, she didn’t. you did.

 hands gripping your ass, she tugged you even lower, lips messy, tongue insistent. you could feel her breath, hot and damp, every time she moaned low, just to rattle you from the inside out.

“you watching something?” your date asked, and you nodded, forgetting that he couldn’t see you for a moment.

“yeah, sorry! i always have something on in the, unh, background while i do my routine.”

he laughed, filing away your distraction as some cute, quirky fantasy. a far more innocent categorization than the situation deserved. “nah, i get it.”

you tried to focus on the call, tried to nod along to whatever the hell he was saying, something about “doing this again,” “seeing you soon.”

ambessa refused to let up. she devoured you, alternating between firm, unrelenting strokes and soft kisses that felt like taunts. you could hear the slick echo of it, each pull and suck wet enough to shame you. and it was all happening on his time. you weren’t yours right now.

you bit your knuckle, shuddering.

she moaned like you were the one doing something to her, then gripped the backs of your thighs and pulled you further down, spreading you open with no mercy. her tongue lapped deliberately, each movement messier, filthier, designed to make you flinch like a liar under a spotlight. you could hear the wetness now. you prayed he couldn’t.

her nose pressed in. her mouth devoured. it wasn’t sweet. it was starved.

“i’d like that,” you said hoarsely. “tonight was so good. you’re so good.”

“oh, it’s like that?” your date replied, voice dipping with misplaced pleasure. this was not about him right now.

ambessa pulled back just long enough to whisper, lips glossy. she spread your lips wide, watched you clench around the emptiness. her chin was glazed with the drool of your need. “but not as good as this, right?”

then she flattened her tongue and drew a line so slow it made your knees buckle. when she grazed your swollen clit with her teeth you whimpered, far too loud. there was a pause on the other end.

“you okay?” he asked, voice laced with confusion now. “you sound a little more than distracted.”

“yeah,” you breathed, forcing a laugh. “swear. just exhausted. you know. long day.”

ambessa pulled your clit back into her mouth like she wanted to keep it, and your body betrayed you with its shivering and arching. she didn’t stop. she didn’t want you to be quiet. she wanted the performance. wanted him to hear you choke on a lie while she tore the truth out of your body.

you grabbed the edge of the headboard with one hand, the phone shaking in the other as you began to bounce. you needed it to end, needed the focus to ride the fuck out of her face.

she squeezed your ass, giggling to herself as she slapped it and you covered your mouth as your brain whited out. 

“hey, look, do you want me to call back? i can let you enjoy your show in peace,” your date offered, tone unassuming and teasing.

ambessa pulled away only long enough to murmur, “answer him, baby. or i’ll do something that’ll make you.”

“no! no, that’s okay. i wanna—i wanna keep talking.”

he said something else, his tone pleased. you couldn’t even hear it, because ambessa was saying something too. between sucks. between strokes. 

“look at you, mama. do you want to cum for me?”

she didn’t wait for an answer. she slid two fingers in, knuckles deep, while her mouth returned to your clit like it belonged to her and no one else. you squeezed your eyes shut tightly, tried to focus on breathing.

“you want to cum for me, right? not him. we can keep him on the phone if you want. let him here how nasty this pussy is.” she pressed open mouth kisses to your cunt as she said it, using two fingers to spread your folds as she made out with it. she slid her tongue in, french kissing it like she’d done in the kitchen before this. “it’s okay, baby girl. i’m feeling generous. let him hear what he’ll never have.”

you slapped a hand over your mouth. your eyes rolled back. the phone slipped from your fingers and hit the bed with a soft thud, still on. still listening.

“oh shit, baby, fuck. i—oh my fucking god, bessa.” you moaned, rolling your hips faster.

“yeah?” she said, uncaring of her volume now. she smiled viciously at the thought of the way that man must be feeling. “you feel good? you like it when i put my mouth on you? come on, use your words for me.”

“yeah. i, mmm, i love—i love it. love it when you eat my pussy. ‘s so good. so fucking good.”

you were bouncing vigourously now, ass slightly clapping against her chin. she didn’t mind, only guided you further into her mouth and whined into you. you were dripping, dribbling all over her face, even slipping down her neck. she reached up, brought the phone closer. 

the squelch of your pussy was obscene, your walls gummy and tightening around her every time she tried to leave. she drove her fingers deeper inside of you, relishing in the way you squealed and tossed your head back. you fumbled with the band of your bra, finally getting it undone and allowed your tits to fall perky and full into your hands. you pinched your nipples, swiveling delicately as you felt that syrupy heat begin to rise. 

“i’m cumming. bessa, i’m cumming, i’m gonna—holy shit—i’m gonna cuuuum.”

ambessa didn’t slow. didn't pause. she held. kept you split open, held down, fingers buried, mouth sealed over you with a precision that felt cruel. her eyes never left your face.

you screamed as you sprayed, thighs snapping shut around her face as you shook and curled inward. the world fell away, your brain tumbling into the searing bliss of an orgasm that was ripping something out of you. your voice pitched high, trembling, frantic, sweet enough to haunt someone for life. then it fell into a vocal blend of three parts: sob, slurred praise, utter disbelief.

the phone was still on, the call still connected. there was silence first. then:

 “…what the fuck,” he said, voice hesitant as if he didn’t want to believe what he heard. “what the fuck, [name]?”

ambessa didn’t even glance at the phone. she just kept going, alternating between fucking and kissing against your mess, tongue soft now, lapping it all up like she was savoring victory. you whined, tried to pull back, too sensitive. she didn’t let you. 

“uh-uh. you can give me another one, pretty girl. i know you want to.”

she made you ride it out, whimpering, breath stuttering against your lungs, throat closing as her tongue still worked slow, torturous circles through the oversensitivity. another cry ripped out of you, lower this time. she chased every twitch and tremble, drank from you like she was feeding.

the line crackled.

“can you not hear me? because i can hear you. i’m still on the fucking phone with you! you’re fucking—what the fuck is this?”

you couldn't even respond. you were still pulsing, convulsing, twitching in her hands. she pressed her mouth against your thigh like a signature. then, with the most obscene casualness, she reached for the phone and brought it to her lips, their fullness still soaked and shining with your release.

she didn’t rush, her hand rubbing a warm circle across your back as you fell into her. she pressed a kiss to your shoulder and then said, voice soaked clean through with honey,

 “wrong number, maybe.”

then she hung up. 

you collapsed forward, gasping into the pillow, body wrung out and wet and glowing like a fever. ambessa crawled up behind you, mouth still damp with you, and kissed the back of your neck like she was about to tuck you into bed.

“good girl,” she whispered.

then she bit you, hard enough to leave a mark. her hands slid up the backs of your thighs, sliding between them to spread you back apart and rub a thumb against your nerve-shot pussy.

“you want me to fill you up, sweeheart?” she murmured. “tell me, and i’ll go get it. make you feel full.”

“fuck you,” you breathed. then, “yes, please.”

ambessa’s laugh curled around you like smoke. one arm draped heavy over your waist, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“be right back.”

© hcneymooners.

⚚ special taglist: @venusiandyke @thatonetargaryen @drgnflyteabox @y2kas13 @blackdykegirlblogger @slut4sevika @joon1uvr @dut1fuldyk3 @imheadintothemountains @bambishaven @kirammansbow @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @nightlyconfusion @sevikasrightboob @half-of-a-gay @nsfwruru @yourlovesicklibra @bluferret @doppelman @savedforlaterr @sevikasserafim @fruitfulfashion @soniiyi @namuranguinho @bubblestrbls @spidercat-soccerfan @pllduniverse @sugrcookiiee @iwasholic @sevslefthand @fxngsfxgxrty @leone007 @kk-iki @jvalentinelvr @bella-goths-wife @maaaaaaaaaaari @marieeeluvsyou @powderpinkandsweeet @pearldaisy @sevikas-whore @wolfessa @lazyartizt @cherryswisherz

[prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue]

VALERIE

pt.2 of pull me in

summary : due to bruce distancing himself from reader and seeing other women - the rest of thr batfamily has to watch her willow away.

Damian carefully sets out delicate China plates onto the oak table - he always ensures that he places the golden forks and its corresponding smaller spoons next to them - just like how Name taught him . It all seems like a forgone , a distant memory , but when Damian had first moved into the manor - he met Name always cooking.

She was a woman who always preferred home cooked food over bought food - taught him that having the privilege to have food and to enjoy it was a luxury many cannot afford in this time - so the fact that this family can - they should cherish it.

He was, of course, weirded, out by it - of course, he grew up having maids cook for him - he never had to think of his next meal but because he respected Name wishes . His respect was even further upheld because Name was an amazing cook - everything she's ever made him practically melted in his tongue , the taste etched into the depths of his mind.

He remembers in his earlier days of living here - he always hovered over her in the kitchen , he found it peaceful and a way to escape to constant arguing and fighting he had with the rest of his other siblings. He always gravitated to her , he didn't understand why - he already had a mother, Talia , but for some reason, he still felt the need to be around her.

Maybe it was because Name was a quiet woman and a woman who never bothered to fix him or opted to berating him about something - instead, she opted to just live in his space , to just quietly carry about herself. That doesn't mean they haven't spoken , his very first day, he remembered her asking if he had any allergies or certain food preferences.

They had other conversations, too , like the time she caught him fiddling with the washing machine when he was trying to wash his Robin suit, and she explained the workings and mechanics of using both the washer and the dryer. Or the time she caught him sneaking out, and she literally told him to use the backdoor next time.

Safe to say , Name and him bonded quietly, but that's what he loved about her - she was patient and loving - a silent type of love not one that's too overbearing or one like Bruce's were it left you guessing.

Damian sets the jug of water at the center of the table - ensuring it was perfect and neat just like Name taught him . Jason and Tim soon enough comes barreling in with takeout bags and left them on the table half hazardly.

" Tch - Jason, just because your room is a pigsty doesn't mean our dining table has to be." Damian quarreled as he immediately straightened it . " Yeah, Jay mom has a system." Tim quirks up as he helps Damian straighten it.

Jason awkwardly rubs at his head , " Sorry - never got ma's tidy genes," he apologizes . Damian rolls his eyes, but let's out a smirk . The dining door opens again to reveal Dick and Name walking in , Dick immediately pulls out a chair for Name and helps her get situated in.

" We got Chinese takeout, ma," Dick explains as he gestures towards the bags on the table. A small smile graces name's face as she gives a small nod at the boys. They immediately lit up - glad that their mom was happy with today's dinner choice.

" Yeah, we got you your steamed broccoli and beef ma " Jason says as he carefully hands her a box . Name nods as she takes the box into her hands and rests it carefully on the plate . " Jay and I got fry rice and shrimp wontons - Dick got spicy noodles with chicken, and well, we all know Damian got his sucky tofu " Tim furthers as he distributed the boxes out.

Dick practically snatches his before sitting next to Name . He opens up his box, and the smell of the spice practically engulfs the entire room, causing everyone to cough. Jason, who has opted to sit across from Name, glares at him , " Dick how spicy did you order that damn thing -" he complains.

Tim, who was sitting next to Jason, stuffed his mouth with a wonton , " $50.00 he's gonna start crying again when he eats it -" he bets. Damian takes his seat in the opposite of Name and grumbles annoyed with his siblings antics , " Grayson I swear to God if you get an upset stomach because of this on patrol I am personally going to stab you " .

Name giggles quietly - no matter how shitty life went for her - nothing could beat watching her children be happy like this. " Ya'll are being dramatic. I just got normal level this time, alright - plus I have a better spice tolerance than you all," Dick defended as he slurped his noodles.

Everyone literally rolled their eyes at that. " Dick you got the spice tolerance of an old white man," Tim muses . " Tim - you are a white old man too you shouldn't be talking either " Jason interjects.

" This argument is pointless - you all are pathetic at cuisine - only mother and I have a superb palette," Damian adds in as he carefully eats his tofu. A collective groan echoes in the dining room. " Okay - Mom has a good palette, hands down, but definitely not you, Damian." Dick argues - pointing his fork at Damian dramatically.

" Okay, first off, I am the only one here who can somewhat replicate Mother's pelau -" Damian defends . Jason , pursuing his lips cuts him off , " You burnt the bloody rice last time. What do you mean replicate ?" Jason points out. " I said somewhat, Todd, maybe Harvard should take back your English degree," Damian snares.

" When you are making pelau , rice goes in last, and then you add in your water," Name interjects before the conversation goes south and explains - her voice soft . The batboys still - its rare their mother ever talks - ever since Bruce told her voice was annoying and grating - she very rarely spoke . Safe to say , they were overjoyed . " Thank you, ma - tell them how a real cook does it !!" Jason exclaims .

" Ma, I miss your cooking - we literally have to survive off of Alfred and Dad's poor attempts," Tim practically begs. " I'm sorry, babies, you know Mama can not cook anymore like she used to, but I'm sure Alfred and your father can cook." Name apologizes , grimacing at the ' your father ' part .

The batboys too grimance at the mention of Bruce - it's no secret that they dislike him - no matter how much Name pleads and tells them to respect him and remind them that he was their father - they couldn't bring it upon themselves to respect that man . In utter rebellion, they all start calling him Bruce - even on patrol since none of them could give a shit .

Heck, that's how Selina found out . It was like any other patrol except that night , Tim and Bruce were really deep into another argument. " Bruce - I am not going to another stupid gala - especially because Ma isn't going," he argued . " Your mother doesn't control you, Tim," Bruce argued back as he continued looking over the roof - already done with the conversation.

" Yeah, well, maybe the fact that you're married to the woman should control you from being tongue deep down in some other woman, huh ?" Tim yells back before he turns away from Bruce . Selina was standing right behind him , jaw-dropped and eyes blown open in shock . Tim shoves past her before disappearing off in the night - he couldn't stand being in either of their presence .

Before anyone could say anything , the dining room's door pushes open to reveal a scowling Bruce . His neck is covered in lipstick marks and hickies , and his shirt is wrinkled. Name practically froze in her spot , arms shaking as she took him in . She could feel all of her insecurities bubble with her - practically drowning her in scalding water .

Jason scoffs - already pissed at absolute audacity while Tim just stares - his face void of any emotion. Dick's eyes got dull, really quick when his eyes drifted between Name and Bruce and well Damian - his face was red - down to the tips of his ears was red , he was practically seething in his seat - ready to pounce .

" I thought I said to make dinner Name ?" Bruce questions as he takes a seat to the top of the table. The air is tense and cold, and no one at the table makes a move to acknowledge the sheer stupidity of his demand. " And we thought being married means being loyal to your partner," Jason sassed - his glare practically cuts into Bruce's own.

" Have some decorum at the table, Jason," Bruce corrected as he stares at Name pointedly , " Again Name , why is there no dinner prepared . Are you so lazy that you have to waste my money on cheap takeout ?" He asks again. Name stayed there frozen - her lungs began to collapse on her as panic ensnares her.

" If you want dinner prepared, then prepare it yourself." Dick seethes out . Silence consumes the table once again - the air practically thickens when the dining door opens again to reveal none other than Selina , black dress equally wrinkled and her lipstick smudged.

Name stared at her and then at Bruce before standing up , her chair scraped against the floorboards, leaving a mark in its wake. " Go rot in hell " Name says , voice dripped in calm rage , eyes boring into Bruce challenging him to say something .

Name then looked to Selina , face void of feeling as she did a once over , " Last season of Channel's couture? Pathetic , at least look good if you are going to be a homewrecker " She says casually before strutting past her as if Selina was a measly fly.

The room goes silent fast, and soon enough, everyone began dismissing themselves, leaving Bruce and Selina alone to tend to each other's bruised ego's.

thank you for reading !!

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note : this is a work of fiction . This work does not represent Canon versions of Selina Kyle , Talia AL Ghul, and Bruce Wayne , please do not unnecessarily hate these characters .