#I am riding this wave for as long as I can
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Post by u/DJConvex to r/AskReddit on Nov 6, 2024:
People who work in DC for the government, what is the vibe?
Comment by u/Meduselde:
Resigned. We are generally very good about not discussing politics in the workplace but the vibe was obviously off. My more conservative colleagues who were happy Trump won were extremely respectful. There wasn't smug gloating and they were very obviously being cognizant of others' feelings even more than normal. It was extremely appreciated. Ultimately, we survived the first administration and will survive again. It's not necessarily Trump who was the problem last time, but his inexperienced senior appointees. The world isn't going to end nor do I feel democracy will crumble at his feet. It's just gonna be chaotic, and that's the worst part as a worker bee. At least with Biden we had consistent leadership and clear guidance, even if you didn't agree with it. Under Trump, your "yes man" says "no" and that's how you rotate through four SECDEFs. But as a sign of hope, it also means that even the most loyal DO say "no" sometimes, especially when businessmen are finally confronted with the realities of governance.
They chill out REAL quick on their dismantlement plans when they see the work these agencies do and what's at stake if they don't stand up for their people. It's easy to say you will dissolve or cut funding for something when you do not truly understand it. And as much as people say we can ALL be magically replaced with "yes men," even the most stone-hearted appointees recognize that the last thing you ever want is to lose the entirety of your skilled workforce. They learn it's best to get the skilled people to work towards their vision and not hire enthusiastic but stupid people to attempt the same. If they do, they risk looking inept themselves. You don't get skilled federal workers in a blue portion of the country to work for you by being a fucking Nazi. We're cranky and will make your life hell if you behave like that. I'm not talking about some sort of organized resistance movement because we feel like it. That's wrong. But just imagine hundreds of thousands pissed off at you. If that's the Deep State at work, then we aspire to be the quality of swampy Deep State your racist uncle thinks we are. If implementing dictatorship was that easy, Trump would have taken out every agency his last term and fired us all. I am actually extremely proud of the resiliency and checks and balances that the American federal government has in place to prevent most of the shit he says he can achieve by waving a magic executive wand. (He's done this once. He knows he can't. He just lets the majority of the population believe he can.) Us feds will make it, as we always have.
And we will live up to our oath to serve the Constitution, not a president. We serve every official of every party faithfully within the bounds of legalities and our oath. Working for administrations you may not like it's just a part of the job that we all recognize. Public servants at the federal level generally hold that extremely close to their heart. The ones that don't (I'm talking to YOU, WaPo "informants!") put us to shame. We're just tired, man. I can't believe it has already been four years since the last round. There's going to be some waves, no doubt, and some people definitely are going to be hurt at upper levels. But grab a Twisted Tea and buckle up. We'll at least pretend it's meant to be a roller coaster and ride it. TL;Dr Democracy is not going to die. But a drink and "thanks" would go a long way.
EDIT: Woah! I woke up this morning and am surprised by how much traction this got. I'm sad that this was the most positive thing some people had read. I'm sorry it's been that bad. I am not predicting outcomes. I have no idea how it's going to go. It's going to be bloody. But the hope I am trying to get across is that we are a resilient people and a group of (generally) good people. It will be okay, okay? The people that really make or break your daily life are those around you and your local government. Hold those around you close to your heart and always be kind. Everybody go outside, take a deep breath, eat something you love, and hug your grandma (even if she voted differently). The world is still turning and the sky is still blue. Being surrounded by spiraling anger on the internet only makes us the losers, not those we disagree with. The only thing we can do right now is wait. We have a few months to cool off! Enjoy your holidays!
EDIT 2: I think everybody has forgotten about this, but go check out the memorandum signed by the Joint Chiefs of Staff at the end of Trump's first term after January 6. The feds basically said "fuck that" when people were scared that the government was going to turn the military on them to help Trump in some way. While it was specifically addressed to our armed forces members, it was spread throughout the DOD and beyond. Partially as a result of federal workers' fear (not actually ordered, to be crystal clear) that they would be asked to turn on citizens. This sentiment was echoed across the entire government via internal emails (from Trump appointees!) as well to the civilian workforce. That's one of my proudest moments as an American and why I know we will get through it.
Emphasis mine. Link to original Reddit Post. Link to an article about the aforementioned memorandum signed by the Joint Chiefs of Staff.
Don't give up. We will get through this.
#us politics#election 2024#donald trump#kamala harris#we will get through this. we will survive.#jen.post
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just Sam things lol
#tjf: extras#ch: samael#of all the changes I've implemented#this lil tidbit will NEVER lol#been trying to compile a list of simple char bios just to keep all my details straight#it's been super helpful#anyway HELLO NEW FOLLOWERS#holy cow I did not expect that post to blow up the way it did#glad we're all on the same page about being in love with Sabrina and Nolan#I'm trying to be more consistently present on this blog#I can't make any promises but I'm definitely feeling inspired lately and am riding that wave as long as I can
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The thing with the Byler twist - and it is a twist, even if we’ve predicted it - is that all that the general audience really needs to be on board is to realize that all of Mike’s behavior will have remained in character. No sudden change or confusion to accommodate this fan service ship. Even if you didn’t see it coming, it is very consistent with his behavior over the seasons.
That’s all you really need for a good twist. Not predictability but rewatchability. Does it makes sense? It doesn’t matter if it was built up. Because this isn’t a slow burn. It’s an “it was under my nose the whole time” subversion. Yes, it’s been built up from the start but that’s the part about being under your nose the whole time. Some people will have caught it some won’t, but ultimately, the fact that Mike’s behavior won’t change is what will make people see it.
Because the general audience is, by definition, not actively fighting the idea. Casual viewers. Character consistency is all that’s needed. Even if it WERE to be fan service, if they were to be able to execute that unplanned plot with great character consistency, props to them, that’s the story now, and I’ll accept it. (Just like I say a non-Byler ending would be totally great if it can maintain character consistency and realistic happy endings within that - I just can’t think of a way it can).
This has been a long way of saying.
Mike and Will getting together will not feel out of character or like an adjustment or accommodation to this “new” storyline. And that’s really all that’s ever needed for a twist or subversion to work. It doesn’t have to be foreshadowed or predictable. It just needs to make sense. And as long as that’s true, no general audience member will fight it.
#reminder also that homophobic casual viewers don't count because that is a bias even if it is out of fandom#going with the flow of whatever happens in character without actively rooting for anything and just kinda riding the wave is the type of per#son i meant#general audience byler#also fix its are great but at the end of the day i'm a believer in the idea that what's happened in the show happened so if an ending feels#in character then that is the ending of that story#i don't pick and choose#i don't even skip episodes of sitcoms on rewatches because i am always in it for the full story overarching#if they really do just absolutely pull byler out of their ASSES and have been doing fan service this whole time#and execute season 5 with character consistency#i really do not give a shit what was on the original drawing board however long it was bc welp it was scrapped and the reason doesn't matter#fan service is only bad when done poorly#writing at the end of the day is just putting characters you know into different situations and seeing how they react#suspending disbelief that byler would be hypothetically unplanned#the fact that there is even a situation to drop the existing characters into that would warrant byler as a result is great and i say counts#i'm thinking of it as a simulation. an if >> then#you can change your mind on the outcome all you want as long as you can execute it within the sim of just dropping your established characte#rs into situations and letting them play it out#if that makes sense#like this is a sort of metaphor i know the writers aren't just gaming on sims 4 all day with the proper personality traits and then getting#he demogorgon expansion pack#but you get what i mean#if it's in character most people including myself will not give a shit what other in character ending we could have had#because in most cases there could have been another in character ending up until a certain point#times the timeline could have branched off from different in character decisions but didn't and now that it hasn't the options are end the n#arrative arc in season 5 one way#or continue the show long enough to execute something else#both work imo#although i do want the integrity of ending it#i just can't think of a combined s5 finale alternate
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silly me, thinking i was immune to the curse of ao3 authors. ha. haha..........,,,,,..,,.
#ao3 author curse#ao3 writer#welp. im back and im better?#i did post and i am actively writing now so ig that's good#gonna see how long i can ride this wave#didn't post a real chap just a wip but yk better than nothing ????
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the curve
somehow ive found myself in a position where folks come to chuck in times of strife for encouragement. lets get the big part of this conversation out of the way LOVE IS STILL REAL and that is the thing to remember. that north star remains. today there is more to talk about though
existence pushes towards love community and freedom, because CREATION is what we were built to do and creation thrives with these things as fuel. IT GETS BETTER. LOVE IS REAL. however this change comes in up and down waves. its not a straight line and should not be expected to be
some of these waves are short and small, and some of the slopes are years or decades long. there is no mincing words here, we are entering a massive downward wave. the implications are huge and it is okay to mourn that. FEEL THOSE FEELINGS. it is an important part of the ride
the most telling sign post on our slope is this: tromp won the popular vote (or likely will when the votes are done). we can talk POLITICAL STRATEGY all day about electoral college or who should court the center or the left and on and on but ultimately THIS is the real story
to me it signals a TRUE cultural shift. likely conservatives will have presidency, senate, house, and supreme court. WHAT A GIANT SLOPE. HOLD THE HECK ON because we will be riding it for a while, deep into the pit of the void. hold your buds tight, prove love at the local level
but heres the thing, MASSIVE waves have happened before. theyll happen again. mind numbing slopes into the abyss and great soaring leaps into the sky. in fact the inertia almost ALWAYS causes them to happen right after each other. hippies or punks back in the day, buckaroos now
politically we were trapped in a basically fifty fifty trot for a long time, but it was not always like this (just look at old election maps what the heck). to be honest, tromps map looks like one of those old maps right now. and DANG did COUNTER MOVEMENTS blooms from those times
in other words, THERE WILL BE A COUNTER CULTURE MOVEMENT THAT WE HAVE NEVER SEEN BEFORE IN OUR LIFETIMES. you are now a rebel for the resistance and the wave that will swing back towards love will awe us in ways we cannot even imagine yet.
but for now, feel those feelings, mourn, prove love, stay safe. do not let the hope i am espousing feel like a distraction from the very real, even deadly consequences of the terrible pit we are plummeting into. it is a horrible day, and FUTURE HOPE does not diminish that, BUT
get ready because that counter culture wave is coming and YOU are a part of it. if you want to shout HECK OFF DEVILS then shout it LOUD, if you want to cry then cry HARD, if you want to love then love with your WHOLE HEART. thats the start of the movement that we dont know yet
when that movement takes shape we will feel the inertia of the curve and it may make us sick from the rollercoaster turn, and that pressure will be uncomfortable and scary, but THEN buckaroo, we will soar, and ill be so dang glad to be holding on tight with you when we do
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Me, looking at tma fan art: haha classic Jon, afraid of spiders ❤️
Me, opening the bathroom door to be greeted by a dime sized wolf spider:
#I jumped so hard my partner thought I was waving to him#I was just NOT expecting a spider at 4 am#let alone a wolf spider#it’s an itty bitty little guy tho so I’m embarrassed he made me jump so bad#so long as he doesn’t crawl on me while I’m sleeping I’ll be okay#I’m still working on the whole ‘bugs that move fast crawling on me’ thing#slow bugs?? you can ride on the magic school bus#no running in the halls thank you very much#it’s 4 am I’m so tired#help#captain's log
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Am I Playing All Right Now?
Kento Nanami x You
Explicit Smut 18+ (🚫Minors DNI🚫)
Kento Nanami has been your respectful, loving boyfriend for two months now. All you’ve done so far is kiss, and you want more with him. He refuses for your sake, warning of his roughness. So, you take matters into your own hands and convince him to put in ‘just the tip’.
Relevant tags: just the tip challenge, dom! Kento Nanami, clothed sex, couch sex, clit slapping, brief use of leather belt, hard and rough sex, doggy-style, hair pulling, manhandling, big dick-Nanami <3, dirty talk, degrading, unprotected sex, creampie, I don't use "y/n" for immersion
Music recommended while reading: Dollhouse (The Weekend, Lily Rose Depp, …baby one more time (The Marias), Like U (Rosenfeld)
A/N: this is filthy and I love it, my first Nanami piece <3 enjoy!! (Read on Ao3 if you prefer!)
Read below cut:
The night had gone great. You two had a fantastic dinner at a fine restaurant, and now you’re at his house, getting hot and heavy on the couch. You’re sat in his lap, straddling his waist, the hem of your dress riding up your thighs as the fabric gives to accommodate him between your legs. Your hands are running over the muscles of his chest, only the thin layer of his dress shirt between your touch and his skin. His palms are on your waist, pulling you closer, pressing you so firmly against him that you can feel the blunt heat of his hard cock beneath the confines of his slacks.
You can feel adrenaline pumping through your veins–tonight is the night. Every time you two get close to having sex, he pulls away, saying he isn’t ready, but right now it feels so different, so electric–
He hums, punctuating the kiss and pulling back, giving you room to breathe. Your stomach sinks, no, this isn’t what you want, you want–
“We should stop here for the night,” He murmurs, and you look into his eyes, a frown tugging your lips down at their corners.
“But you’re hard,” You protest, “Kento, please…we’ve waited long enough, and you clearly want this…”
His jaw tightens as he takes a breath. “I do…but we can’t.”
Now you’re just confused. “...can’t?”
He sighs heavily, giving you no explanation, but nodding. “Now, let’s m–”
“No, hold on,” You interrupt him, “Kento, tell me why? I-is it me? Do you…not want…?”
“It’s definitely not you,” He dispels quickly, “It’s me, okay?”
“What about you?” You press, searching his eyes. “Is it…are you…worried about your performance?”
That gets him to widen his eyes a fraction in surprise. “N-no, it’s not that. It’s…alright, look, it’s…it’s that I don’t want to hurt you.”
It isn’t enough of an answer for you. “And…what do you mean by that?”
“You…you know me to be this nice, gentlemanly man, don’t you?” He asks, a sort of resigned weight to his eyes. “Which, I am. But not when it comes to sex.”
The wheels turn in your head. “So…you’re…?”
“I’m rough,” He finally states, “And it’s…it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. I’m afraid to hurt you or scare you away. Of course I wouldn’t do anything you don’t want, but…you just seem so sweet and–”
“Woah,” You stop him in the middle of his sentence. “Do you think you’re the only one with duality? You don’t think I can be different in bed? Do you think I’m some porcelain doll you’ll break if you’re not careful?”
He considers this for a moment before sighing. “You don’t understand.”
“So then make me understand,” You challenge him, running your hands up his chest. “Please, Kento. I can take it.”
“No,” He denies, “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
Seeing his hesitance, you decide to switch tactics. You reach for his hands on your waist, taking his wrists and raising his palms up to the front of your dress. You guide them to rest over your breasts, allowing him to touch them through the thin cloth. You’d decided not to wear a bra for the night since the article had thin straps, and he immediately can feel that, a flash of desire flitting within his eyes.
Riding the wave of his interest, you tell him, “I want you bad, Kento.”
He inhales forcefully, allowing himself to knead the soft flesh beneath his hands. His thumbs graze over your hardening nipples, your teeth dragging over your bottom lip instinctively. To drive your point home, you grind down on him, the only thing on beneath your dress being the panties you’d hoped he’d see when you had put them on earlier in the day.
“You’re playing dangerous,” He warns, voice thin and strained.
“Maybe I want dangerous.”
He finally lets out a groan, surging forward and capturing your lips in another kiss. It’s more forceful this time, and all you can do is give complete control to him.
He flips your positions so smoothly, you hardly feel it; you just suddenly feel your back hit the cushion of his couch, a gasp pushed from your mouth. His hands make quick work sliding up your dress, fingers hooking underneath your waistband.
Kento speaks against your mouth lowly. “Lace?”
You swallow hard, nodding. “Yeah.”
“Expensive?”
The question catches you off guard. “Uh, no, not r–”
A swift, harsh tug and the sound of fabric ripping later, he holds the scrap lace in his hand, now mangled and unusable. He just tore them clean off.
“Holy shit,” You breathe, now suddenly aware of how bare you are beneath your dress. He must become aware of that fact too, because without a moment to spare, he’s pushing the article up to your waist, exposing you to his eyes. A rosy flush spreads over the bridge of your nose as he looks at your naked lower half unabashedly, a type of hunger you have never seen before nor known he was capable of in his eyes.
He tosses your ruined panties to the floor and fiddles with his belt, undoing the buckle. Your gaze follows his movements, watching his hands expertly tug the leather strap from its loops in his pants.
Then, he surprises you by holding the edge without the buckle and running it along your inner thigh. You shiver, observing him and wondering what his next move will be. He runs it all the way up, reaching the apex of your leg and placing it right over your mound. The cool leather feels unfamiliar there.
“Can I?”
Your attention is pulled to his voice, and for a moment you aren’t sure what he means. Then it dawns on you.
Oh.
No one’s ever done that to you. But…you aren’t opposed. You’re curious.
You nod.
“Words.”
Oh, damn.
“Yes, you can.”
“Good girl.”
You don’t have time to pay attention to the rush of hormones that praise gives you, because a harsh sting of pleasure suddenly hits your senses as he brings the end of the belt down, slapping your clit with it.
“Ah!” You jump slightly, shock, arousal, and fascination flooding you all at once.
“How was that?” He asks, watching you carefully. You take stock of yourself…and are intrigued to find that you liked it. As soon as you realize that, you understand that Kento is about to show you an entire new world previously unexplored to you.
Your eyes lock with his. “It was good.”
A mixture of relief and desire swarm his gaze. “You liked that?”
“Yeah.”
Without warning, he does it again, a little harder, and you cry out this time, unused to the strangely welcome sensation.
“Still good?”
“Yes.”
“Good girl.”
Your next breath is shaky. “More.”
He wastes no time in delivering exactly what you want. Over and over again, until your pearl is red and swollen and the folds beneath are glistening with need, belt shiny with a bit of it. He stops once you reach this state, making sure you see as he licks it off the belt. Your lips part, entranced, and he drops the accessory, instead moving to undo the front of his slacks. Your heart begins racing–but then he pauses, seeming to deflate slightly.
“I’m not gonna go all the way,” He states, “I don’t have condoms.”
“What?” Your voice is more than a little indignant. “But…how?”
“I wasn’t planning to do this tonight.”
He pulls his cock from its restriction in his briefs, pushing his waistbands down to the tops of his thighs, and the sight of the thick, red shaft as your mouth watering and your core pulsing around nothing.
You think he’s changed his mind as he lines it up, but then he just glides it against your folds, coating it in your essence and using it to rub against you, the feeling intense due to the sensitivity of your previously abused clit, but not what you crave.
“Kento,” You whimper, watching him rub himself off as he plays with you using his cock. “Please…”
“We’re not risking a pregnancy,” He maintains, “It’s not wise.”
You are beyond frustrated at this point, entrance weeping for attention, and you swear the desire is so bad you can feel your entire core sore and empty, vying to be filled and stretched.
What can you say that will get him to do it, even just a little bit?
Wait. Just a little bit.
“What about just the tip?”
His eyes narrow. “What?”
“Just the tip,” it comes out needier than you had intended, but god damn it you’re horny and all out of shame twice over.
Kento takes a good look at you, at himself and the position you’re in, sucking in a controlled breath for the umpth time that night.
Then, he lines up again, cockhead pressing against your entrance. “You’re going to regret asking for it.”
Is he challenging you? Whatever. What. Ever. You’ve reached a point where if you don’t get his cock soon your heart may actually give out.
“Let me decide that.”
His jaw sets tightly before finally, finally, he cants his hips forward, pushing the tip of his shaft inside of you.
As soon as it’s in, your head falls back on the couch, hips starting to roll without your permission. Your body wants him all on its own, and you’re no longer in command of it. He groans, pulling out and then pushing it back in, only the tip again, and you whimper in half bliss and half frustration.
You want more.
You understand the true meaning of temptation now. You’ve had the first bite of the proverbial apple, and it’s shocking how eager you are to devour the rest to its core.
Everytime he pushes in, never going past the smooth head of his cock, you moan, wordlessly begging for more. There’s a worry in his brow and a tenseness to his jaw that indicates just how much self-control he’s exercising, and as you look up at him, you realize he’s still pretty much fully clothed—his tie is pristine around his neck, shirt fully buttoned up, only his dick out and vulnerable to your eyes.
It’s unfair, and you seek to change that.
Your hand loops into his tie and yanks him down by it, taking him by surprise. He has to catch himself on his hands to avoid falling on you, a grunt escaping his lips as it causes him to slide further into you.
In a lowered hiss, he asks you, “what do you think you’re doing?”
The tone is so vindictive it has any words dying on your tongue. All it takes is a moment before he’s forcefully breathing out and lifting himself off of you, cock withdrawing from between your legs.
You open your mouth to protest, and that’s when your world spins.
You were face up, but now you’re on your hands and knees on the couch, having to brace yourself as he manhandles you silently. There’s not even a moment for you to acclimate to your new position before you feel his fingers loop through your hair as you’d done to his belt, and in one motion, he grabs your hip with his free hand and slams all the way into you, pulling your hair back hard to make you arch for him.
A loud cry splits through the air and it’s only when he starts repeatedly fucking hard and fast into you with the entirety of his monstrous size that you realize the sound was from you.
“See what happens when you push me?” His voice is hoarse and gritty, more like a growl than a whisper, a dull ache inside of you where he’s currently remolding the shape of your walls.
All you can do is make incoherent noises, and you aren’t sure whether they’re from pain, pleasure, or a mixture of both. His grip on your hair isn’t letting up and it hurts, but you’ve also never felt so completely out of control of yourself and somehow it just feels freeing to you.
“Huh?” He asks, and it’s then you realize you never replies to him verbally. You muster up the strength to speak.
“Y-yeah…” it sounds breathy and whiney, completely foreign in the contours of your voice.
“You happy now? Happy you got me to fuck you like the greedy whore you are?”
The harsh word ripples through you hotly and you moan, nodding as good as you can. “Yes…”
“Yes?” He asks, breathless, and he lets go of your hair in favor of wrapping his hand around your neck from behind. “You like being screwed like a whore?”
Apparently, you do. This is new information to you as well. You nod, gasping as he grabs your hand and presses it over your abdomen, where you can feel the flesh rising and falling in tandem with his thrusts.
“Feel that?” He asks, “that’s me inside of you.”
“Oh god,” You rasp, the knowledge of him so deep inside your body going right to your head. You can feel your mound weeping all over yours and his thighs, the wet slap tell-tale of just how much you’re enjoying this. Just the realization has you fluttering around him, a sensation that isn’t lost on him.
“Fuck,” he breathes, “You really do like this, huh?”
You nod. “Yes, yes, Kento…”
He groans, leaning forward and kissing the juncture of your neck and shoulder, brushing your hair out of the way.
“Such a good girl for me…my good little slut.”
You shudder, eyes squeezing shut as he speeds his movements up, the hand that was pressing yours to your stomach moving down to the slippery mess that is your swollen clit.
The big palm of his on your neck slides the thin straps of your dress down your shoulders and dips into the neckline of it, grasping your breast as if to claim ownership of it.
“Oh my god,” You breathe again, hips twitching at all of the stimulation, face hot, entrance thoroughly fucked open and sloppy, debauched by Kento like a destructive form of artwork.
His middle finger massages circles into your sensitive pearl as he continues the grueling pace of his hips, lips pressed to the back of your neck, and all at once it becomes too much.
It crashes into you like the unforgiving wave of the raging ocean, sweeping you into the depths of pleasure.
You cum so hard on his cock he physically has to stop moving, your hold on him so tight he’s locked inside of you. That’s the moment that he follows, spilling his pent up, heavy load into you with a hiss of pleasure.
Your arms and knees feel like jelly. Your walls are sore and throbbing, completely exhausted from his ravaging. But all you feel is feather-light. Finally, finally you did it. And it was better than your wildest imagination.
Lips place a tender kiss on your shoulder, his labored breaths slowing back to regulation. You feel his cheek rest upon the skin of your upper back. Both of his hands massaging along the sides of your hips.
“I’m sorry we waited so long. I just figured it would be too intense for you.”
You shake your head, turning it to look back at him as he straightens up and carefully pulls out.
“Don’t do that again.”
The corner of his lips turns up slightly. “Oh no, I won’t make that mistake twice. In fact…there’s something else I want to do now.”
“And what’s that?”
“I want to test your limits.”
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A/N: here's my Nanami masterlist :) this is the first piece but lmk what else you want me to write for him! Hope you enjoyed.
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk imagines#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento#jjk nanami#nanami x reader#nanami smut#jujutsu nanami#kento nanami#nanami fanart#nanami x you#nanami x y/n
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Breaking a Promise
You love your monster boyfriends cock. It's huge, long, ribbed, a wonderful alien shape that you can't even describe. Beautiful colors are splashed across it, along the veins, glans, his balls, and surrounding the lovely hole that shoots that delicious load all over and inside you. You love to lick that little hole, pushing your tongue inside, tasting the pre-cum while listening to the grunts of your handsome boyfriend. His muscles spasm, he barely keeps himself under control. You forbade him to touch you this time. This time, he's your monster toy.
You glide your tongue slowly along his shaft, kissing every curve and stripe, every little marking. He can only squirm under your touch because he promised - he promised! - not to place a finger on you.
Smiling deviously, you continue your torture, soaking his monster phallus with your saliva. You suck his balls and foreskin, pulling them with your teeth. He hisses, his hands curled into fists. "Fuck... you are evil..."
"Evil?" You lift yourself on your knees and crawl closer to his dick. You kneel and start grinding yourself up and down along his soft creases, stimulating your swollen clit. "I am now."
"Fuck..." His head falls backward, exasperated sigh escaping his lips. He swallows hard while he grunts, controlling his arms, scratching the bedsheets like a nervous cat. "Please... Let me, just a little bit..."
"No", you snap, too focused on your pleasure, holding his dick against yourself and rocking your hips. Your moans become louder and you can feel your core aching. You push yourself forward, forcing his cock on his stomach so that you can ride it with more force. "Ah... ah... yes, I'm close."
He puts his hands behind his head, biting his bicep, trying not to look at you. But he can feel and hear every part of you. He can feel your wet cunt, the moist sounds, your pants and whimpers, your folds sliding along his cock.
"I'm gonna—" Your orgasm hard, screaming from delight, still humping his cock, making your clit pulsate. It is so intense, you shake and whimper like a pathetic plaything.
"Fuck this!" He grabs your hips and lifts you up like a doll. You aren't aware of his actions until you feel his full length inside your still pulsating pussy. "Ahhh yes!", you scream.
His pounding cock enhances your ongoing orgasm and just pushes the next wave forward. Hearing him grunt and groan while slamming your pussy against his groin speeds things up. You climax again, him balls deep inside you, chasing his own release.
"Oh fuck, baby, you feel so good... Your pussy loves my cock... It throbs around my cock... Ah..."
He presses you against his chest so that his hips can buck with full force. With a deep guttural growl, he buries his cock deep inside you and cums. He fills you up so much, you feel the pressure inside your womb as it swells.
After catching his breath, he says, in a most fake apologetic voice: "I'm sorry I broke my promise."
With half-lidded eyes, you kiss his chest. "You are not, you whore. At least you break your promises in a really fantastic way."
#monster imagine#monster#monster lover#monster fucker#monster boyfriend#monster fuqqer#werewolf#werewolf lover#werewolf romance#teratophillia#terat0philliac#terato#monster x fem!reader#monster x reader#monster x you#slightlyknotinsane#ski.doc
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“Say it” - jjk fic
—“Look how good we’d be together ____, we look so fuckin’ good together hmm? Say it baby..”
you always looks forward to having date night with your boyfriend Yejoon. You guys have been together for a little over and year and after him being so busy with work he finally takes you on a date. You’ve been spending most of your time with Jungkook, your best friend. Never in your whole life would you have ever thought that you’d be sitting at a table with your boyfriend while your best friends cum drips down your leg.
pairing :: bsf,jk!! + fem-oc!!
genre :: smut ‼️ (little angst if you really think about it when someone confesses 🤫)
wc :: 3.2k
warnings :: cheating oc!! lying, sorta public sex (?) confession, cursing, not choking but hand wrapped around throat, boob play, oral sex (f receiving) protected sex! (birth control), cumming inside ☺️
hello everyone! this is just a random story I wrote that I wanted to post on here. I hope you guys enjoy it and if you have any ask’s please feel free to ask me!
𖧐𐮚~~~~~~~~~~~~~~𖧐𐮚~~~~~~•
“Jungkook for the last fucking time I am not about to ditch Yejoon just to hang out with you” I said to the phone that is sitting on the edge of my vanity as I do some finishing touches to my makeup
“Come on ____! You know you wanna see me right now” I heard him say from the other side of the phone, his smile clearly being heard in his voice. I rolled my eyes and picked up the phone so that I could check if my boyfriend had texted me about our date
“I have to leave my house soon, Yejoon gonna pick me up in a bit” I said before tapping the facetime screen and seeing Jungkook look at me through the screen with a small pout on his face. “Get rid of the pout Jeon” I said and he rolled his eyes at me
“Pleasee ____? I haven’t seen you in so long” He said in his whiny tone, I shook my head at him before getting up from my vanity chair and picking up a pair of my black heels that will go with the black dress that I am wearing
“I have to go Jungkook, we can hang out some other day. Byee!” I said giving him a small wave before I hung up the call. I put on the heels that I chose out and I looked at myself through the body mirror that I have in my bathroom. As soon as I left the bathroom I heard a soft knock on my apartment door. I swung the door open and I was greeted with the sight of my boyfriend
“Hi baby” he said as a soft smile was placed upon his lips before he held out a bouquet of flowers for me. I quickly grabbed them and gave him a hug and placed a small kiss on his lips.
“I missed you” I said as my own smile started to form on my lips as I saw him look me up and down. He placed a hand on my hip before he led me out of my apartment and towards his car.
“You look so pretty tonight, I love this dress on you” I heard him say as he opened his car door for me like the gentleman he is. I quickly step in and he shuts the door when he sees that I'm in and about to buckle up. He gets into the car and starts to drive us to dinner, our car ride is filled with small talk and little giggles here and there. My eyes sparkle as I see the view of the beautiful restaurant that has a lake view behind it. Yejoon parks the car before he gets out and opens my door. He held his hand out and helped me get out before we both walked towards the restaurant. When we walk in Yejoon goes to talk to the waiter about the reservation that he’s made. Once we both get seated, I finally take in the beauty of this place. We sat next to the huge window which gives us access to the view of the lake that has the lights reflected over it.
“This place is so beautiful, Yejoon, thank you for taking me here” I said, giving him a soft smile before I looked over to the table next to us and saw another couple holding hands and looking at each other with love. Yejoon and I talk for a bit while our waiter comes up to us and gives us some wine and takes our orders before leaving us alone. I hear my phone vibrate next to me and I pick it up to look at who's texting me. ‘Jungkook- Go to the bathroom’ I look at my phone with a confused expression on my face. I excuse myself and Yejoon simply nods at me before I grab my bag and make my way to the bathroom. Once I get to the bathroom I simply stand in the hallway before I get my phone and right as I’m about to dial his number I feel a light tap on my shoulder. I jumped slightly before I turned around and was greeted with the sight of Jungkook’s warm smile
“Hi baby” he said mocking Yejoon’s voice as I rolled my eyes at his ridiculous behavior. Just as I’m about to say something to him I feel him drag me into the family bathroom. He locks the door behind himself before I turn around at stare at him
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked him as I placed my bag on the sleek marble counter, I crossed my arms before I continued to stare him down. He looks so fucking good right now, he always does. I would almost feel bad for the way I’m looking at my best friend while my boyfriend is outside waiting for me to join him at the table again. He walks toward me and leans against the counter giving me another one of his famous smiles that shout ‘you know you can’t be angry at me’
“I told you I missed you and I wanted to hang out no?” He said simply before he himself looks me up and down, I notice him briefly looking at my hips before he brings his eyes back up to mine
“Jungkook, I’m having dinner with my boyfriend right no-”
“No you’re not because I'm standing right here and I wasn’t at the table with you” he says, cutting me off. I feel my cheeks turn red as he says that and I look down at the floor. His finger hooks under my chin before he leans my head back up so I’m still looking at him. “What’s wrong? Got my baby all flustered for me?” I heard him say before giving me a slight smirk
“Why are you here?” I said pushing on his chest gently so that there could be some space in between both of our bodies. I see him tilt his head at me and a fake ass pout sat on top of his pretty pink lips that are decorated with two silver hoops on his lower lip
“Are you saying you didn’t miss me at all?” he says, stepping closer towards me so that the space between us is closed. Clearly not liking the distance between us
“No I didn’t, I was with Yejoon. Why would I think of you?” I say and I see him eyeing my lips before they make there way back up to my eyes
“That’s a shame because while you’re over here enjoying your night with your boyfriend I’m over here dying. You take up all my headspace, I was thinking about what you were wearing, what you would get, where he is going to take you, and why you are with such a shame of a man and not with me.” I heard him say while I felt his hand gently caress my cheek
“Jungkook, what?” I said with confusion written all over my face
“____ baby, you can’t possibly think that you should settle for him” he said while he looked in my eyes as he only saw pure confusion in them, “Wow you really are dumb”
“Excuse me?” I said before I felt his hand drop from my cheek to my hip. I know it’s wrong and I should probably tell him to stop and get his hands off me but at the moment everything just felt right. His hands on me and both of our bodies pressed together just felt right. I felt his breath gently brush against my lips and I just felt like melting in his hold. His hand grabbed mine and he placed it on top of his chest just enough so that I could feel the faint feeling of his heart beat.
“You feel this ____? This is because of you, I'm only for you. You have me whipped for you and I just have to sit back and watch as you blindly fall in love with this asshole. It hurts me because I have to see you fall in love with someone who isn’t me. I beg you to be by my side so often because it just feels so complete to me, you complete me” He said softly as I felt his heart beat on the palm of my hand quicken. I look at him in shock as he looks down at me with his soft brown eyes filled with pure emotion. “So please ____, choose me. Let me be the man who shows you love and affection. I’m sick of having to tell myself I can’t have you because I know I can and I will” He says, his hand lets go of mine and I feel him brush some hair out of my face.
“Jungkook, I can’t, and you know it too I love him” I said softly as I felt my heart ache as I heard his confession
“No you don’t” He simply says to me before he cups my face in his hands gently. “You can love me and you do it’s just you don’t want to tell yourself that”
“Jungkook, I love him” I said as I felt some tears fill my eyes. My own mind is filled with confusion as I keep thinking if I really see myself with Yejoon. As I think of him Jungkook is the only name thats pops up in my head
“If you truly loved him you wouldn’t let your bestfriend hold you and confess his love to you huh?” He said as I felt his face inch closer to me. He had me stuck, I didn’t know what to say. It was like I’m intoxicated with him. I feel his lips touch mine and that's all it took until my mind is completely made. I love my best friend, I always have. His hands dropped from my face down to holding my hips and my own arms snake up to wrap around his neck. I felt him let out a slight smile against my lips before he picked me up. My legs wrapped around his waist as I felt him place me on top of the marble counter, our kiss never breaking. His lips found their way down to my jawline then slowly trailed down to my neck, his hot breath hitting my neck felt like heaven to me
“Fuck kook” I breathed out as I felt him gently suck the sensative skin behind my ear. His hand trailed their way down from my hips so that they are now resting on both of my thighs. His fingers hook onto the bottom of my dress before he looks up at me to see if I was okay with him doing this. I let out a slow nod then I felt him lift my dress up enough so that my lacy panties were exposed to his eyes. He went on his knees before placing gentle kisses on the insides of my thighs causing me to bite my lip gently, I watched as he slowly made his way up to my covered pussy, my wetness was starting to leak out through the thin material of my panties. Jungkook let out a soft smile before he placed a soft kiss over my covered heat
“So wet for me hm?” He said softly against me before his finger moved my panties to the side so that he had full access to me. I felt him press a soft kiss against my clit which caused a soft moan to escape from my lips. His tongue dipped into my folds and I felt him suck my clit teasingly then letting his tongue fuck my pussy. My hands find their way to his head, I let my fingers get tangled in his hair before I bite my lip and I try to maintain my moans so that they are quiet enough not to be heard outside of the bathroom door. My head falls back as I feel Jungkook’s tongue lap in my pussy. I always knew Jungkook had a past of being so good at sex that he had girls begging and crying for him to come back to them, each and everyone getting rejected. I had even thought of what it would feel like to fuck him or even just have him eat me out. All those thoughts went away once I started to date Yejoon. (sort of)
Jungkook pulled away from my pussy, his chin glistening with my wetness and he smiled at me before he stood up. “Get off the counter, I’ve been waiting so long to be able to fuck you” He said as I jumped off the counter before he turned me around and fully took off my panties letting them fall to the floor. He lifts up my dress higher so that it wouldn’t get in our way. I feel him take his belt and black jeans off before I could feel the clear outline of his hard cock rubbing against my ass. “Shit, I don’t have any protection” He said from behind me
“We don’t need it, I'm on the pill” I said and looked at him through the mirror, a slick smirk placed upon his lips before I heard him take his boxers off. His hand held my waist while the other held his cock and aligned it with my entrance
“Baby if you ever want to stop just let me know, you’re in control” I heard him say while making eye contact with me through the mirror. He gave me a soft smile then he pushed his cock inside of me
“Oh shit” I moaned out once I felt him fully enter me. He lets out a soft groan while his grip on my hips tightens. My mouth fell open in ecstasy once I felt him thrust into me, it felt as if I was being brought into heaven
“Fuck ____, you’re so tight” He said while his head got thrown back as he continued to thrust into me at a erotic pace. I felt him bring the top of my dress down a little, enough so that my boobs spill out, Jungkook quickly grabbed one of my breasts and played with it in his tattooed hand. Quiet moans escaped my lips as He continued to fuck himself into me. His free hand wrapped around my throat before he pulled my body up so that I’m looking into the mirror. I could almost cum at the sight of him fucking himself into my pussy, his long fingers grabbing and playing with the sensitive skin of my breasts. “Look how good we’d be together ____, we look so fuckin’ good together hmm? Say it baby” He said before I felt his grip slightly tighten around my throat. I try to form a sentence but the only thoughts that come into my head are about how good he’s making me feel. I hear him chuckle in my ear with his deep sexy voice, his lips place soft kisses on my shoulder and up to my neck. “Awe, look at how pretty you look struggling to answer me, getting all brain dead while getting fucked with my dick” He said in my ear before he let go of my neck and let his hand fall down to my clit as he began to rub it slowly. “I want you to look at yourself while you cum for me hm?” I nodded at him before my back arched against his back, a louder moan escaped my lips as I felt a knot in my stomach form.
“Kook, im gonna-” I tried to warm him but I just couldn’t, I looked at myself and saw my face all sweaty and my cheeks a bright red color
“Cum baby, I wanna feel you cum around my dick” He said before letting out another soft groan as he continued to rub my clit. I do exactly as he says. After a few thrusts I come undone while he continues to thrust into me. My mouth fell open and my head fell back so that it was resting on his shoulder. Not so long after I felt his thrusts grow sloppy and he came inside of me. Once he pulled out he turned me around and placed a loving kiss to my lips. “God, I love you so much” He whispered against my lips before he helped me clean myself up
“Jungkook,” I said softly as I watched him put his clothes back on after he helped me fix myself so that Yejoon wouldn’t know anything about what just happened. He looked up at me, his soft eyes meeting mine again as he finished buckling his belt. “I love you, I don’t want this to end” I said and he smiled at me before walking towards me putting some hair behind my ear while placing a gentle kiss on my forehead.
“You think I’d just quit on you after I confessed to you? Hell no” He said before letting out a light laugh looking at me with admiration in his eyes. “We can talk about us when you go home later okay baby?” He said pulling away from me, I quickly nodded at him before I saw him exit the bathroom door. I felt a little piece of me disappear as I saw him walk away from me. I look at the mirror and quickly fix some of my makeup before I walk out to Yejoon again.
“Hey there you are! I thought you ran away from me” He says chuckling at me as he takes a bite of his steak. Damn we took so long that the food already came. I sat down in my chair and gave him a fake smile placing my bag down next to me
“Sorry my aunt was going through something and I needed to help her through it” I said laughing awkwardly before I took a bite out of my now cold food. I heard my phone ding, I picked it up and saw a notification from Jungkook. ‘Jungkook- Now that I think about it, you never answered me when I asked if we looked good together. Now I wanna hear you say it.’ I looked up and saw Jungkook standing near the exit looking down at his phone with a small smirk. I ignored his text and took another bite of my food. Ding. I let out a scoff before I opened my phone again and saw another text from him. ‘Jungkook- Don’t ignore me. Say it.’ I giggled quietly to his text before I typed back, ‘- Don’t be an idiot, of course we look amazing together.’ I typed back and I turned off my phone before I saw Yejoon looking at me
“Was that your aunt?” He asked
“Yeah she was just telling me some funny story of my uncle, I’ll tell you later” I said before taking another bite of my food
“I love you ____, you’re such a perfect woman I don’t know what I would do without you” he said smiling at me brightly
“Me too baby” I said, forcing another smile at him as I felt Jungkook's cum slowly make its way down my leg. “So much”
𖧐𐮚~~~~~~~~~~~~~~𖧐𐮚~~~~~~•
Okay guys thank you so much for reading. This was my first time writing smut so I really hope that I did okay 😓 like I’ve said before thank you so much for reading and I’ll post again soon!
- le3worl
I
#book blog#bookblr#fanfic#jeon jungkook#jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x you#bookish#books#jeon jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#bts jungkook#jeon jungkoooook#bts army#bts#bts fanfic#jjk smut#smut#angst
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cat scratch, oscar piastri.
cw: SMUT, scratching, p in v, crying, & more . . .
for someone often described as a 'polite cat,' oscar certainly lives up to the 'cat' part, though 'polite' wouldn't be how you'd describe him when he's pounding into you without an ounce of mercy.
you were in the midst of a silly argument with him when you said something that seemed to push him over the edge.
he suffered a terrible day and a lousy race, and your complaint about him ignoring you on the way back to the hotel was the last straw.
"shut up," you snap, your patience wearing thin. you didn't want to hear any more about his bad day or the race.
oscar's eyes flash with anger. "you shut up," he bites back.
you step closer, challenging him with your gaze. "oh yeah? make me, dickhead."
for a moment, oscar's expression softens into one of mock defeat. "okay," he sighs, a smirk playing on his lips. "but you might moan a little."
before you can process his words, he pounces on you, his hands gripping your hips as he pushes you onto the bed. your breath hitches as he positions himself above you, eyes dark with intent. there's no gentleness in his touch, no hesitation as he drove into you with a force that left you gasping.
"so quiet now," he taunts, his voice a low growl. "what happened to that bratty little mouth of yours, hm?"
you can only moan in response, your body trembling beneath him. he pulls out briefly, just long enough to flip you over so you were on your back, facing him. your cheeks were flushed, your skin slick with sweat as he looks down at you.
"you're such a messy girl," he murmurs, his hand tangling in your hair before he thrusts back into you. the sensation is overwhelming, your cries filling the room as he set a relentless pace.
"i'm- fuck, 'm sorry!" you gasp, the words tumbling out as he leans down to nip at your neck, his teeth grazing the bruises he'd left earlier.
oscar doesn't let up. "aw, poor baby," he mocks, his lips curving into a smirk. "i don't care that you're sorry." his hips continue their brutal rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body.
with a sudden move, oscar lifts you off the bed and positions himself beneath you, keeping himself inside you the entire time. "y'gonna ride me, okay?"
you nod, your mind hazy with desire as you begin to move. your pace was slow at first, just testing the waters, but oscar's encouragement spurred you on.
"there we go, you've got it," he coos.
his hips buck up occasionally, driving deeper into you which results in you almost collapsing on top of him.
your hands clutch onto oscar's shoulders, fingers digging into his skin as you desperately try to steady yourself. your body is quivering, threatening to give out under the relentless assault of his hips driving into you.
"i can't do it- oscar! fuck-" you gasp, your voice breaking as you struggle to maintain your balance. each thrust from him sends a jolt of pleasure through you, making it nearly impossible to stay upright. "osc, i can't keep going!"
he knows you can. deep down, you know you can too.
"you're whining," he says, rolling his eyes. his tone is almost menacing as his nails rake down your thighs, leaving red trails in their wake. "thought we said we weren't gonna do that."
his grip on your ass tightens, his nails digging in even more when you don't immediately comply. the sharp sting only heightens your arousal, and you can feel tears of frustration welling up in your eyes.
"am i makin' you cry, baby?" oscar mocks, his voice dripping with faux sympathy as he reaches up to wipe a tear from your cheek.
you're not in pain; you're in heaven. although, you are a little embarrassed that you're so turned on by oscar being a little shit.
he laughs, a low, rasping sound that sends shivers down your spine. "suck it up," he sneers.
the rest of the night blurs into a haze of exhaustion and pleasure, your body pushed to its limits as he continues to mouth off about what a brat you are.
the next morning, you wake up with a deep, throbbing ache in almost every single muscle. your ass also feeling especially tender for some reason.
you groan, rubbing your eyes groggily as you take in the sight of oscar completely knocked out beside you. his hair is tousled, falling onto his forehead, and a few bite marks cover his shoulders.
those marks, however, are almost nothing in comparison to what you have.
slowly, you remove yourself from oscar's arms, shivering as the cool morning air hits your bare skin. you reach for something warmer to wear, eyeing the clothes that scatter the bedroom floor.
as you pull on a baggy tee and some thin, lace shorts, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. your ass is covered in scratch marks, red and sore. you knew he was gripping you, digging his nails into your skin, but you hadn't realised just how marked up you were.
it looks like a cat had scratched you all over.
"oscar piastri!" you whisper-shout, storming back over to the bed and waking him from his slumber.
he rubs his eyes sleepily, staring up at you with a half-lidded gaze. "yeah?"
"you're a fucking cat," you huff, pointing to your scratched-up backside. "my ass is covered in scratches."
oscar lets out a raspy laugh, propping himself up against the headboard. he just shrugs and smirks at you, clearly unbothered.
he's proud of his work. you, however, are not.
© kissedsuns
#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri f1#oscar piastri smut#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri x fem!reader#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x y/n#oscar piastri drabble#oscar piastri blurb#formula 1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 smut#f1 2024#f1#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#formula 1 blurb#formula 1 drabble#formula 1 x female reader
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𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐝𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! fluff, suggestiveness - talking about/hinting towards satoru fingering/eating you out but nothing happens, kissing, satoru fondly makes fun of you a lil, he also carries you around, collage au, collage student!reader, collage student!gojo
fey: I’m still gonna be on hiatus for a little longer but in the mean time have this fluff nugget inspired by my hubby
Satoru huffs and pokes your cheek till you swat his hand away. He flops on the bed next to you, the soft breeze and movement disturbing your carefully placed papers.
You whine “Satoru!”
“Sweet pie! You’ve been studying and working in that essay all day for the past three days please!” He throws his hand across his forehead, clutching his chest. “I beg of you feed me attention before I starve. I’m wilting away before you! How cold hearted can you be.” His eyes are with tears.
Tossing your throw blanket over him, “This should keep you warm.” You take you eyes off the screen to read the open text book next to you. Before referring to your notes then glancing back up at your computer screen.
He pops his head out from underneath the blanket with gasp. “No I’m not cold! You’re cold hearted!” He sits up and wraps his arms around you. “Please just an hour, we can order some food, take a shower get you out of your funky funk.” Pinching his nose and waving his hand in front of his face.
“You’re foul.”
You can hear the smile in his voice. “Like your armpits! Study starting break now! I your wonderful boyfriend refuse to let you be stinky.” He slowly closes the lid on the rough draft of your paper.“I’ll help you write some more after, if you don’t give your mind a break you’ll fry it and make it useless.” He kisses the top of your head.
“Let’s go lil’ stink!” He drags you off the bed, your feet dangle in the air as he holds you to his chest.
Squeezing you whilst you protest, “Hey you can’t steal that! I don’t wanna hear it from the one with the stanky attitude making me take a break for my health how dare you.” He carefully sets you down in the bathroom.
He waves a hand in your direction, “Yes yes, how dare I care for my beautiful girlfriend and rub her naked body down with my large soapy hands in a warm shower, that I as her perfect boyfriend know the temperature of.”
He lights some of the candles arranged around the bathroom. And starts the heater that he insists your bathroom needs. After not stepping into another cold bathroom after a hot shower you can understand why.
You rid yourself of your clothes, throwing them into the hamper. “Do you need to toot you own horn?” Relieving yourself then washing your hands.
Turning around and watching him strip. His arms flex as he pulls his black shirt off. His v line peeks out of his sweatpants, which he pushes down. Your gaze lingers on his soft cock and large balls before you glance up into his sparkling blue eyes.
He corners you against the counter, booping the tip of your nose with his long finger. “You’ve been neglecting me for days I might need to remind you what a awesome boyfriend I am! What if you’ve forgotten!” He pouts.
You slide your fingers through his soft silver white hair. Pulling him in, your lips close to his, “I could never forget, you won’t let me, but I suppose it’s part of your charm. I guess it’s kind of cute when you’re cocky.”
Satoru smirks into the slow passionate kiss he gives you. Lifting you up, reflexively you wrap your legs around his waist. It’s easy to forget everything when you’re kissing him. There is the safety of his arms, the sweet passion of his soft lips on yours.
When he breaks away Satoru suggests, “After our shower would it be too cruel of me to give my girl a happy ending? As some stress relief and reward for all her studying of course.” He massages your cheek. His large warm hand feels wonderful targeting your sore spots.
You softly groan, “Please! I don't know if I wanna ride your face, fingers or cock.”
“Why not all three one after another? I can suck on your pretty clit and let you cum on my fingers then I can fill you up.” He carries you into the warm shower, supporting you with one hand. Closing the curtain behind himself.
He stands underneath the warm water, steam billowing off it. “‘M sorry for not texting for three days, you know I’ve missed my amazing boyfriend, you’re just so talented at so many things like distracting me when I need to study.” He helps you onto your feet, placing your backside facing towards the rushing water.
He protests, “I can behave and help you study.” Pouring some of his favorite strawberry and sugar scented body wash onto his hand.
You close your eyes tilting your head back. Soaking your curls and letting the water wash over your face. The water melts away some of the tension building in your neck and shoulders.
You rub your right shoulder and winch whilst insisting, “You tell me that every time.” Turning around and stepping out of the water, closing your eyes. It’s relaxing knowing he’ll take care of you, from washing your body, to treating your curls to applying your face care.
Rubbing soap over your back and ass, leaving soapy white bubbles. He massages your shoulders whilst pleading his case, “Please lemme help you study! We have the same essay due and test to take. Our study sessions is how we got together I miss them.”
You softly sigh and cave in, “I miss them too, ok you win can stay, you’re too charming.”
He playful croons “I always win.” Kissing the top of your wet head. “You won't regret it I'll be the best study buddy!” You widely smile, the delight in Satoru’s voice is heartwarming.
#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk fluff#gojo fluff#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo fluff#gojo satoru fluff#satoru gojo x you
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Their words during the act
18+ reading
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
How to choose a pile?
Close your eyes and take a deep breath and ask the angels to show you the right pile for you and open your eyes. The first pile that catches your attention is the right pile for you.
This is a general reading so only take what resonates and leave the rest.
Pictures do not belong to me, they belong to their rightful owners. I only own the content of this post.
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**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
Pile 1
During the act, their words might reveal a sense of frustration or impatience at first. There’s an intensity in how they express themselves, almost like they’re trying to let go of control, unable to perfect every move or hold back what they're feeling. They may stumble with their words, flustered, saying things like "I can't wait any longer" showing a hunger that’s a bit unpolished but raw and real.
Then, as the moment deepens, the tone shifts. Their words start to soften, becoming more nurturing and sensual. You might hear them complimenting you, speaking about how much they desire you, calling you beautiful, irresistible, like they can't get enough. Their tone will be tender yet filled with admiration, like they are completely taken by you, worshiping your body and presence, expressing just how much you’re affecting them.
They may speak with a sense of excitement, almost playful, like they’re riding the waves of chance and pleasure. “This is so good,” or “You make me feel so good" they might say, hinting that they feel swept up in the unpredictability of the moment, like everything has aligned perfectly for this intense, thrilling experience. Their words would reflect how exhilarating and wild this is for them, like they’re surrendering to the heat of it all. Their words will become even more spontaneous, a mix of lust and sweet obsession. They might whisper things like "You’re everything I’ve ever wanted," their voice filled with both urgency and affection. Each word they say comes out between heavy breaths, showing how completely lost they are in you, almost as if they’re trying to express something they can’t fully put into words. Their hands and body language speak just as loudly, but the words , those hot, unguarded murmurs carry a sense of devotion and a craving for more. You can tell they’re hooked, every word dripping with desire and a hint of surrender to the intensity between you both. It’s like they’re on a ride they never want to get off, and they want to take you along for every twist and turn.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
Pile 2
Okay so the message I am getting is that their words will be sharp and clear, no hesitation or uncertainty. They'll know exactly what they want, expressing it with confidence. You’ll hear things like "You drive me wild" words that show they’ve been craving this for a while.
There will be a sense of admiration, like they’re captivated by your every move. Compliments will pour in, heartfelt and genuine. They might tell you how beautiful or irresistible you are, making you feel like you’re the center of their world, like nothing else exists but the two of you. At times, their words might change into a playful, almost innocent tone , teasing and sweet. They could whisper things like, "You make me feel things I can’t even explain," making you feel desired and special. But there's a deep, mysterious side to it too. Some of their words might catch you off guard, adding an element of intrigue. They'll play with your mind as much as your body, saying things that hint at deeper feelings or hidden desires, like "I’ve been thinking about this for so long" or "You’re all I dream about." They might confuse you for a second about what they actually want to say. Their words will come faster, breathless, almost like they can’t keep up with how much they want you. They'll be raw, direct, and filled with urgency "I need you right now," or "I can’t wait any longer." Everything will happen quickly, almost like they're overwhelmed by their own passion.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
Pile 3
Oh~~ this is the spiciest pile. Some of you might also want to read pile 1. For you guys they might start by teasing you with the idea that you are their world, saying things like, "I’ve been waiting for this moment… you have no idea how much you mean to me."
There's a sense of completeness, as if you are the missing piece they've been longing for. As things heat up, they might hesitate for a moment, teasingly asking "Do you want this? Show me." They’re testing the waters, wanting you to make the choice, but deep down, you both know you want the same thing.
Their words might be a blend of challenge and desire, encouraging you to match their energy, almost like a back-and-forth game. You’ll also hear a shift in tone, something more focused. Their words will be encouraging. They’ll want you to know they’re completely present, working with you, eager to build the heat higher, step by step.
You’ll also hear confidence in their voice, something that makes you feel secure and desired. "I know what you want… just let me take care of you." There’s a strong, steady vibe to their words, showing that they’re here to give you exactly what you need, with no rush , just deliberate, confident moves.
They may whisper something along the lines of, "Is this enough? Do you need more?" There's a brief flash of vulnerability, as if they want reassurance that this moment is as meaningful for you as it is for them. I see that they might have a fear of not being able to satisfy you the way you want. So they'll be ensuring that you feel good and comfortable.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
#tarot reading#pick a card#tarot cards#free readings#free tarot#tarot#pick a pile#tarotblr#pick a picture#pick a photo#tarot community#paid tarot readings#tarot readings#tarot deck#tarotcommunity#tarot of the month#tarot wisdom#tarot witch
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anything bombshell reader I would adore!!!
Oh my god, Spencer thinks desperately, could she give me a break?
You waltz into the conference room wearing a smile (your smile, as heartbreakingly perfect as always) and a motorcycle jacket buttoned to the chin. There's something about it. Spencer doesn't know what it is, just that it makes you even more attractive than usual. He toys with the word sexy, and sure, you are when you want to be, but he thinks about it long and hard. You're a fucking bombshell, and you're going to kill him one day.
“What's with the outfit?” Morgan asks immediately.
“You can't wear that to the precinct,” Hotch says, though he sounds curious rather than annoyed.
“You called us in unexpectedly,” you defend, holding up two perfect hands. Calluses from shooting practice line the palm of your dominant hand and you've a cut down the side of the other, and they're still perfect. Everything about you compliments everything else. “I was out.”
“What, on your motorcycle?” JJ asks.
“Your motorcycle?” Emily asks.
“I didn't know you had a motorcycle,” Garcia says.
“You're ganging up on me. Spencer, honey, would you save me?” you ask, though the tone you use doesn't express much urgency as you unzip your thick jacket and toss it aside, its logos and sponsorships crumpling over the back of your chair. “You're the only one who looks pleased to see me.”
“I am pleased to see you,” he says honestly.
You don't make it to cases every time; you're on a different type of leasing, you always say. He doesn't have the subtlety to pretend he isn't happy you're here. You flirt with him, sure, and he enjoys it even while being out of his depths, but he likes you. You're fun and smart and good to be around. You listen.
“They couldn't keep me away from you if they tried,” you say, head dipped gently to one side, smile far from teasing..
“Since when do you ride a motorcycle?” Emily asks.
“If we could get back to the case at hand,” Hotch says, and for a moment everyone looks rightly chastised, until he adds, “we can discuss Y/N's choices afterwards.”
What's worse than your jacket is the quickness of your brain, the connections you make, your endless suggestions. You're so good at your job it makes Spencer feel funny. Rossi, who'd been mostly silent during the exchange, sends Spencer a pitying look.
When the case has been introduced and everyone sent to make preparations for another trip, you and Spencer remain in the conference room. You, because your go bag is already here and you don't have much to do, and Spencer, because you're here.
“Do you really have a motorcycle?”
You tap your nose. “Need to know, babe.”
“I sort of do need to know. If you have a motorcycle, I should probably be spending more time worrying about you.”
“Well, it's not mine.”
He feels a crushing wave of rejection descend on him. “Right,” he says. He knew this would happen. He knew you were just being nice—
“I'm borrowing it from a friend. Mostly to see if I still knew how.” You put your chin in your hand, smiling knowingly. “Who's did you think it was, Dr. Reid?”
“Don't do that,” he says.
“Or what?” You ease up anyhow. “If you don't like being flirted with, Spence, I won't do it.”
“I didn't say that, just don't– don't look at me like that.”
You sigh morosely, but your dramatics are unconvincing, and a smile plays on your painted lips. “Alright, I won't. But it's how you were looking at me, you realise? How's that fair?��
Spencer is about to say you know how, but do you really? Why is it fair for him to ogle you (albeit without meaning to) when you walk in, but when you make your soft googly eyes at him, he tells you to stop? Maybe because his are real, and yours are… questionable in authenticity.
You're smart enough to see that debate before it forms. “I have less choice over it all than you think, you know?” you ask, softer than before.
“I know,” he says. He doesn't, obviously, because the idea that you flirt with him accidentally is hard to accept, because who is Spencer to you? Your nerdy, socially clueless coworker who very clearly has a crush on you. Why would you like that? So he doesn't know about that, but he knows about having little choice in the manner; he sees you and he trips over himself trying to get you to see him.
“I say it every time, but I've missed you, handsome. How have you been?” you ask.
Spencer forgets the depth of his crush in the face of a friend. “I'm good, I've been reading all this Russian existentialist literature–”
“Yeah? Anything good?”
Spencer beams. “Actually, yeah. There's this one writer, you've probably read him already, Dostoevsky…”
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
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go fish! part 2
guyssss i did NOT expect this little series to blow up. y'all are amazing! i'm turning into a Sanji writing blog and am i mad about it? no lmao i received a couple of requests and i'll work on them as soon as i can. i'm really in the zone rn so i'll ride this wave as long as i can. if you want to be a part of the taglist for whenever i post new Sanji content, lmk. i hope you enjoy!
WARNINGS: none
word count: 2.8k
pairing: opla!sanji x fem!reader
summary: after being humiliated by Usopp earlier, reader stays in her room to decompress. however, she gets a visitor.
prequel part 1 part 3 part 4 masterlist
taglist: @smolracoon25 @mischiefmanaged71 @jovialcat123
Mortified. That’s how you felt. Still.
Ever since you ‘forfeited’ from finishing your Go Fish card game with Usopp a couple of hours ago, you had taken your glass of water that Sanji had poured for you and boarded up in your shared room with Nami, refusing to come out due to “heat exhaustion”.
Poor Luffy, ever the golden hearted captain, was immediately worried for your wellbeing as soon as he heard that but after multiple reassurances from you and getting up off of your hammock multiple times to prove you were in fact, just fine, he relented from wanting to stop by the nearest island so he could find a doctor for you. Usopp had managed to convince him as well that all you needed was some water, alone time, and that you would be fine by dinnertime.
You rubbed your eyes as you let out a sigh, vowing to yourself that the next time you wanted some time by yourself, you should just take a bath or something, since any other excuse would cause someone on the crew (Luffy) to lose their mind at the thought of someone not feeling well.
You readjusted yourself, sitting more upright, as you downed the last of your water, it being warm by this point since it had been poured by Sanji hours ago.
Sanji. Ugh.
Your heart fluttered once again at the mere thought of him, but that flutter was immediately replaced by a wave of crashing embarrassment at the thought of the afternoon’s sequence of events. What had happened earlier wasn’t even anything that groundbreaking or special, but to you? It was everything. It wasn’t common practice in your life for the object of your affections to be so kind towards you, so thoughtful, to read and anticipate your needs before you even knew they were even there. But Sanji? He was all of that and more. And you didn’t even know him for that long! You’ve all been a part of the straw-hat crew for 5 months at this point and it felt silly to admit to yourself that you had developed a crush on one of your crewmates in that short amount of time.
And having feelings for your crewmate? Someone who you literally couldn’t get away from since you all were trapped on a ship together (not that you would ever want to be away from him or anyone else for that matter, besides Usopp, but still), it felt morally wrong. You guys were all a team. Sure, you all were off to sail around the world and chase dreams, but achieving all of that required teamwork and trust, and that was hard to do if two of those people were caught up with matters of the heart every hour of every day.
Like, what if things didn’t work out in the end? Would you really want to put the crew’s dynamic at stake just because you thought the blonde guy was cute? No, you wouldn’t. It would be selfish so you would never dare to put yourself or Sanji in that position. No matter how much you liked him.
So as much as it pained you, you could never tell Sanji how you feel. You would never cross that line of being a ‘professional pirate’ into something more, like a pirate wife. Or a pirate chef’s wife.
It definitely didn’t help that freaking Usopp of all people on the crew knew about your affections for Sanji. Ugh, you groaned. He was the absolute worst person to know about it too. Why did he have to figure it out? Why did he have to be the one that had put two and two together to equal four? That your random bouts of awkwardness and shyness plus ‘heart eyes’ and blushes whenever Sanji was around equaled to you having a forbidden crush on the crew’s chef? It was embarrassing. And complicated.
He loved to stir the pot too, so whenever he could tease you for it when you both were alone or in front of a clueless Sanji, he would. You remembered the kiss he had shared with Kayla back when the straw-hats had acquired the Going Merry, so you definitely jabbed him right back when you had had enough, since part of you felt guilty for it since Kayla was thousands of miles away and Sanji lived on this ship with you. Your situations were slightly similar but completely different.
Also, completely different in the way that him and Kayla were basically dating at this point, albeit long distance, and had shared a kiss while you could barely sustain eye contact that lasted more than 5 seconds with Sanji.
You were hopeless.
“Knock, knock,” a familiar accented voice came through the closed door. “Y/n? Are you awake?”
"Sanji?” you blurted out in complete surprise.
Shit. You weren’t mentally prepared to see him just yet. At all. You were still replaying the interaction you both had earlier in your head, your overthinking mind going over every minute detail to figure out if Usopp’s careless teasing had given away your affections.
Usopp, you mentally ground out. You were going to kill him. Sanji had never stopped by your room before so what on earth was he doing here now?
Suddenly, a thought struck you like a bolt of lightning and made your stomach drop fifty miles below sea level: if Sanji had specifically stopped by your room just to gently let you down, that no, in fact he did not feel the same way about you, that he only thought of you as a member of the crew and nothing more....then yeah, you were definitely going to kill Usopp and throw him overboard.
Before you could mentally plot out more details on Usopp's murder, the door opened and the straw-hat chef’s blonde head appeared. His eyes quickly scanned Nami’s empty hammock on the room’s left side before turning his head to the right, his blue eyes immediately finding your surprised ones, a (relieved?) smile lighting up his face at the sight of you.
“So, I take it you’re awake?” Sanji asked in a light, teasing tone but not making an effort to move himself away from the doorway.
“Uh, y-eah,” you stuttered out in surprise as you just stared at him dumbfounded. You still couldn’t figure out why he was here.
Sanji continued to lock eyes with you, making your cheeks flush the longer you both stared at each other, and your palms sweat as the silence stretched on, making the tension in the air become thicker by the second. He blinked, his eyes darting to the side in confusion, raising an eyebrow as he asked, “May I come in?”
“OH! Yes, of course- sorry,” you stuttered as you waved him inside, sitting up in your hammock and mentally face palmed yourself. Of course, Sanji was waiting on you to invite him inside. Like always, he was acting like a true gentleman. “Please, come in. Have a seat. Sorry, that was rude of me. Make yourself at home.”
Sanji stood up to his full height and walked into your room with an easy smile and a small laugh, closing the door behind him. “Ah, don’t ever apologize y/n. You could never be rude to me,” Sanji rebuttalled and waved off your apology as he looked around and took in your very plain and basic shared room with Nami.
Your room, or side of the room more specifically, wasn’t much to brag about considering you really didn’t have much to your name but for now, it was home to you. Your side consisted of your hammock, a wooden barrel next to it to act as a makeshift nightstand that housed your only book, a journal, and a lamp, along with an empty wooden crate to act as a makeshift seat and another to hold some of your other clothes and small travel bag. Nami’s side was similar to yours but had a touch more personality as she hung up some maps she found at various markets and drew up herself on her wall.
You swallowed, suddenly feeling a tad self-conscious about the lack of things in your room considering your current guest was dressed, as usual, to the nines in his signature black suit and blue and white striped shirt complete with a skinny black tie. “Sorry for the sad state of my room-”
“Sad?” Sanji stopped admiring your room and snapped his gaze to look at you. His eyebrows pulled together as another confused smile adorned his features. “Why would you say that? Your room isn’t sad, I like it. It’s a reflection of you,” his next words came out softer, “and I think that’s beautiful.”
You could feel heat crawling up your neck at his words as you busied yourself with placing the empty glass in your hand on your barrel nightstand. There was no way Sanji was calling you beautiful, he was just commenting on your room. With Nami. On your shared room that owed any ounce of ‘personality’ to the ship’s navigator because it was obvious you literally brought nothing special to this room whatsoever.
You stopped yourself from spiraling into ‘I don’t bring anything special to the straw-hats, I don’t know why they keep me around’ thoughts because now wasn’t the time to think about any of that. Those dark thoughts were reserved when you couldn’t sleep in the middle of the night.
As you placed the glass on the nightstand, you asked, “So, what brings you all the way to my room? Aren’t you usually prepping for dinner around this time?”
Sanji’s eyes followed your hand and lit up when he saw the sole book on your nightstand. “Oh, a book? I didn’t know you liked to read.” His megawatt smile lit up a couple of notches as his eyes sparkled, he looked like he had just learned one of the universe’s greatest mysteries as he took a seat near you on an empty crate. “What book is that?”
“Oh, that?” You mentally deflated at the fact you now had to tell Sanji about your favorite book, “It’s Pride and Prejudice.”
You weren’t ashamed of having that book specifically, you loved it and it was your favorite book of all time, you had lost count at how many times you had read it at this point, but it was the fact that you now had to share this part of yourself with the guy you fancied. Guys normally scoffed and turned their nose up at romance book and romantic things, so you were bracing for Sanji to scoff and laugh at you like all the other guys did (like even Zoro and Usopp did when they first saw you reading it) but it never came.
Instead, Sanji’s smile remained bright. “Ah, so you’re a lover of classic romances? Pride and Prejudice? Romeo and Juliet?”
Immediately, you smiled, finding yourself instantly comfortable suddenly whenever you got to talk about one of your favorite things. “Absolutely. I don’t think there’s a problem big enough out there that love can’t solve. Family backgrounds? Wealth and status? At the end of the day, none of that stuff matters. What matters is if two people love each other.”
Sanji stayed quiet for a moment, looking into your eyes with a twinkle of an emotion that you couldn’t decipher. It made your heart skip a beat. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly, never breaking eye contact. “I agree.”
You swallowed. “You like this stuff too? Have you read Pride and Prejudice?”
Sanji blinked and that indescribable emotion he had in his eyes was gone. His smile remained, however, and became sheepish as he held up his hands, “Ah ok, you caught me. I’ve never read the full thing, but I know the main parts of the story. My favorite part that I did read though, was the first dinner with Mr. Collins and he complimented the Bennets on their ‘excellent boiled potatoes’.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head slightly as you teased, “I should’ve known that the chef of the Going Merry’s favorite part of the book is when food is discussed!”
The blonde cook held his hands up again with a good-natured laugh, “Ah, you got me!” His face softened as he asked, “What about you?" He nodded towards the book. "What’s your favorite part?”
You paused for a second as you mulled the question over. “Well, I'm not sure if you know about this part since you never read the book...”
“Try me,” he encouraged softly.
Your face turned to the side, your eyes looking at the wooden wall to your right, unable to bring yourself to look at Sanji as you told him your favorite part of your favorite book. You took a deep breath to steady yourself and calm your nerves, your voice becoming quiet as you told him, “My favorite part is...when Mr. Darcy barges in on Elizabeth for the first time, while she’s at her friend Charlotte’s house writing a letter. He had come to practice ‘conversating’ with her since he admitted that it wasn’t something he was good at and she had told him to practice it. So, Mr. Darcy just barged in and they had one of the most painfully awkward conversations ever...and he did all that just because he loves her. He did something he hated and was bad at, and opened himself up to embarrassment just because he wanted to improve and be better for her. It’s so romantic and beautiful.”
The air was quiet after your mini monologue and for a moment, nothing could be heard except for their quiet breathing and the occasional crash of the ocean from outside your small window.
Part of you worried that your little rambling had bored Sanji, so when you finally looked at him, imagine your surprise when you found him leaning in towards you, hands clasped, elbows resting on his knees and his eyes watching you, completely engaged. It was like he was hanging onto your every word.
Sanji scanned your face for a moment, the corner of his lips curling upwards as he said, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not familiar with that part in the book,” and before you could open your mouth to bring yourself down, he continued, “but, that doesn’t mean your answer is wrong.” He leaned back and slapped his hands against his thighs, “Hell, it’s a much more insightful answer than mine!” He laughed. “I just liked how they were poking some fun at boiled potatoes.”
You laughed with him because yes, that part in the book also made you laugh as well. But at the mention of food, you realized that you still didn’t know why Sanji was here in the first place. Wasn’t he normally prepping for dinner at this time? He had to be running behind schedule at this point.
“Why are you here, Sanji? Isn’t it almost time for dinner?”
“Yeah, it is actually but I heard you weren’t feeling well so I wanted to check in on you, make sure you’re feeling alright and see if you have any special requests for dinner?”
You couldn’t help the slight smile that overtook your face, trying to hide the blush at the fact that he was kind enough to check in on you and offer to practically be your own personal chef for the evening.
You hummed for a moment, acting like you were deep in thought before asking with a raised eyebrow, "And what would you say if I requested some boiled potatoes?”
The smile that lit up the chef’s face was priceless. He had never looked more beautiful. “To that, I would say ‘Absolutely. If that’s what the missus wants, then that is what the missus will get.’”
Missus. There it was again. You felt all warm inside whenever he called you that, it made you feel like he was your husband and that you were his wife. But that wasn’t the case. Sanji definitely must have called other women that before. You weren’t special to him, he was just being polite.
You swallowed down your emotions, putting your sudden wave of sadness away for later, putting on a small smile. “Then that sounds perfect. I would like to formally request some ‘excellent boiled potatoes’ as a side for dinner, please.”
If Sanji noticed your sudden change in mood, he didn’t show it. Instead, he grinned as he said, “Excellent choice, Madam. Boiled potatoes, coming right up.” As he stood up and made his way towards your door, Sanji did one of the most unexpected things that nearly knocked the wind out of you. With his left hand on the doorknob he said, “And don’t worry, Madam. I’ll sprinkle in a little bit of extra love in there,” he turned and winked at you, “just for you.”
With that, Sanji left your room, gently closing the door behind him, leaving you completely dumbstruck in your room, your mouth agape and body frozen.
Did Sanji just say he loved you?
You shook your head, because there was no way he did, right? He said he’d ‘sprinkle in some extra love’ into your potatoes, not 'I love you". You weren’t a chef, maybe that was a euphemism for something.
You sighed.
Those better be some good boiled potatoes.
#sanji x reader#sanji vinsmoke x reader#sanji#sanji x y/n#one piece x reader#one piece fanfiction#sanji fanfiction#one piece live action#sanji live action#sanji vinsmoke#one piece#opla#opla!sanji#opla!sanji x reader#fluff#mutual pining#idiots in love#friends to lovers#basically 2 fics in a day?? crazy#i wanted to write more one shots so they were shorter and take less time but idk how to stop once i start oops lol#sorry not sorry#i think i'm gunna make a tag for this “universe/timeline”?#idk what it would be tho#the#go fish!timeline#?#maybe the “idiots in love” timeline#i'll workshop it#go fish! au
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Chapter 68 of human Bill Cipher not looking much like the Mystery Shack's prisoner because he's just vibing on the porch: Mabel's riding high on the success of making Bill two whole friends, Ford's dealing with curses... and let's see how that camera got cursed in the first place.
####
Mabel asked, "What about Aaron Laarson?"
"I don't know," Candy said, "Aaron is cute, but he isn't a very good dancer. That's very important to me in a teen pop idol."
"He's a really good actor, though," Grenda said. "You should see him in Hot Models 2: Runway Boogaloo!" Candy looked thoughtful.
They'd spent the last thirty minutes chattering, with Grenda and Candy sitting on Bill, who was now laying his upper body on the couch cushion he'd been assaulted with earlier but otherwise hadn't moved. To all appearances, Bill was sound asleep—he even breathed like he was asleep—but every once in a while, he'd pipe up with something like, "Don't get too attached to Aaron Laarson. He's dying in a kayaking accident next summer."
Grenda groaned in disappointment. Candy said, "He should have spent that time practicing dancing instead of kayaking."
Mabel caught movement in the corner of her eye, and started when she saw Ford and Dipper. "Uh oh. I didn't expect them to come in on this side of the house."
Across the clearing, Ford shouted, "Mabel, what the devil is he doing outside with—!"
Mabel shouted, "It's okaaay, I got permission from Grunkle Staaan, I love yooou!"
Ford hesitated. "Well... if Stan okayed it."
Dipper looked at Mabel and her camera. Mabel looked at Dipper and his camera. They immediately started making the stupidest faces they could at each other's cameras. "Hey," Mabel said, "did you find the nightwigglies? It looks like they found yooou!"
Dipper self-consciously tugged up the vest he was using like a makeshift skirt. "We did! It was so great, we recorded some kind of ritual dance, how they make babies—" At Grenda's outburst of "Ewww!" he quickly clarified, "Not—not in a gross way—and we saw some kind of Nightwiggler god! It was amazing!"
"Wow! That's great!" Mabel said. "We summoned a demon and almost died."
"What?"
"By the way!" Mabel waved her camera at Ford. "Grunkle Ford, I kiiinda used your cursed camera by accident. Could you please uncurse the tape so I can keep the episode I filmed tonight? Goldie said the magic thingy he stuck on it will only keep it tame as long as the tape's in the camera."
"That's because it's technically the tape itself that's cursed, not the camera." Ford wondered if Bill had led Mabel to the camera.
"Can you uncurse it, though?"
"I think so. I'll see what I can do." Ford took the camera from Mabel. He decided not to comment on the girls' interesting makeup choices.
Bill opened one eye a sliver as he felt Ford and Dipper step on the porch, saw Ford's bare calf over his boot, and cracked up. "What happened to your pants! Did you try to join the Hokey Pokey?"
Ford gave Bill a withering look—caught sight of Bill's mismatched tween-girl-pencil-case/airbrushed-hot-rod eyeshadow, and laughed in surprise. "What happened to your face?"
"Aren't I beautiful?" Bill asked, lacing his hands under his chin (and making Ford snort again when he spied the multiple nail extensions on one hand). "Go on! Tell me I'm beautiful. I know I am."
"You're..." Ford was keenly aware that Mabel and her friends were probably behind this makeover, "...certainly colorful."
"Stanford, you flatterer!" Bill cackled.
Dipper headed inside, yawning. "I'm gonna... go to sleep or something."
That was a good idea; but Ford was hesitant to go in. He was loath to trust Bill unsupervised alone with a couple of vulnerable children, with no one to keep him in check but another child he'd already manipulated into helping him escape once.
But who was Ford to judge. Bill had manipulated him into helping him escape, too. He supposed Mabel could handle him as well as anyone else.
Grenda said, "I think we should watch Hot Models 2 anyway! It's got lots of cute boys! And girls, I guess." She turned to Bill. "Hey, do you like girls or boys?"
"Sometimes," Bill said. "Sure, I'm up for it. It's a pretty good satire of Big Fashion and I like the runway fight scene with the big light show."
To Ford, all Bill seemed to be doing was talking about movies, wearing stupid makeup, and being a chair for a couple of kids. It was so... normal.
It was something a person would do.
Ford made himself go inside. Maybe he'd start work on uncursing that tape for Mabel before he went to bed.
####
Bill had written a magic-negation seal on the back of a crumpled Mystery Shack receipt and attached it to the camcorder with an X of clear tape. Ford had only used that seal twice in his life. Once, thirty years ago, when Bill had taught it to him. And once last fall, when Ford had attempted to draw it in the Book of Bill to prevent its anomalous effects. Bill's book had absorbed the seal into its page until it disappeared—then burped. At least the symbol still seemed to work on the camcorder.
Ford tried to rewind the tape to the beginning; something inside the camcorder caught and made a nasty sound. He grimaced and hit the stop button. That wasn't good. He carefully peeled off the magic-negation seal, popped the cassette tape out of the camera, and examined it.
He pushed up the cassette's guard panel, but where there should have been a strip of magnetic tape running beneath it, there was nothing. The tape must have snapped. As he tried to inspect the damage, the cassette jumped and rattled in his hand, trying to snap the guard panel shut on his finger like it wanted to bite him.
"Stop that," Ford chided. "I'm trying to repair you." Would it listen? In his experience, objects animated by this particular curse tended to be consistently hostile. He might need to re-seal it.
To his surprise, the tape settled down sedately on his desk. That was more like it.
"Can you unreel the damaged ends of your tape?" If it could, that would save him the effort of disassembling the thing entirely.
After a short pause, the cassette flipped up its guard panel and extended two ends of broken tape.
"Thank you."
It looked like something had... burned? melted the tape? But what? The video cassette's casing was completely undamaged, how had something managed only to burn the tape inside?
Ford snipped off the damaged ends of the tape, used a little strip of masking tape to connect them back together, and carefully rewound the tape a few seconds with a pen. This was only a temporary repair; he'd have to transfer the contents of this cassette to an undamaged one. Mabel would probably want it digitized so she could make her video, too. But watching a few seconds wouldn't destroy it; and he wanted to know whether the camera had recorded whatever damaged the tape.
He carefully removed the smallest of Project Mentem's undamaged monitors, moved it to his worktable, plugged in a VHS-C player, and slid the cassette in.
As he started to play back the recording—the first thing on the screen was one of Mabel's terrified-looking friends—the monitor trembled and jumped, banging heavily as it landed back on Ford's worktable.
"Oh, behave." Ford peeled the magic-negating seal off the camcorder and slapped it on the TV. It immediately stilled. Some gratitude for repairing that tape.
When Ford turned his attention back to the screen, Mabel's friend's face had been replaced by Bill's, his curls filling the edges of the screen.
"Gold-O! You came back!" "Hey, Grend-O. Sorry for the wait..."
As Ford watched, Bill grappled with the camera, eventually managed to get a grip on it, and stared it down with nearly enough fury to make Ford forget the goofy eyeshadow. "Now let's get this straight. Everything beneath this shack's roof is my domain and under my protection! If you want to hurt anyone here—you'll have to get through m—"
The scene cut straight to Mabel's face as it skipped over the damaged section he'd had to cut out. "Welcome back to Mabel's Guide to Secret Sleepovers! Weee're—"
Ford stopped the tape. Huh.
Huh.
####
As soon as Candy and Grenda were gone, Mabel flung her arms around Bill. "Thank you for being nice to my friends," she said. "Especially Grenda. I'm so glad you liked them both after all!"
Liked them? He'd been a charming host to them, but. "Did I?"
"Yes," Mabel informed him firmly. "You did."
Well, he figured he must've, then. And Grenda had grown on him. She'd complimented his eyes, she admired gross things, she had very intelligent opinions on amphibians in general and axolotls in particular... "Hey, any friend of my friend is a friend of mine!"
"That's so much better than what I was trying to say." Mabel let go of him, beaming. "Wanna hang out with them again sometime?"
"Sure!" Bill said, shrugging. "We still have to watch some dumb action comedy movies."
"Great! I'll let them know the next sleepover's over here!" She ran upstairs.
Calling her friends to arrange the next sleepover before they'd even gotten home. Yeah—that was generally how Bill planned his parties, too.
Looked like his social circle for the foreseeable future consisted of three little girls. Wasn't ideal, but he could work with that. He'd always liked getting invited to girls' nights. And maybe at future sleepovers he could talk the kids into some real fun. When they weren't trying to keep quiet, he knew, they fed off each other's chaos. And he was sure there was a budding pyromaniac lurking in Candy's heart.
####
Ford nodded as he passed Stan in the entryway. "Just getting up?"
"Yep. Just going to bed?"
Ford shrugged ruefully. "Afraid so. We got some terrific footage last night, though."
"Oh, yeah? Anything sellable?"
"That's up to Dipper, but I think there's good potential. Bare minimum, I'd bet some cryptozoology documentaries would be interested in his findings."
"Hey, all right! Not bad for a night's work." Stan passed by, headed for the bathroom.
And Ford almost headed on to the guest bedroom—but, reluctantly made himself turn toward the kitchen.
Bill was sitting at the table, sipping at a can of cider with an empty one already on the table in front of him, staring out the window at the morning. He didn't usually drink that heavily this early; it probably meant he was heading to bed soon. The girls must have kept him up all night. Dipper had regaled Ford with tales of what Mabel's sleepovers were like.
"Bill."
"Hm?"
He should have gotten straight to business. Instead, he said, "I watched some of Mabel's video from last night."
Bill glanced over at him. (He still had that ridiculous makeup.) "Oh, yeah?"
Under my protection. Did he consider himself the household's guardian—or its owner? "I..." Ford cleared his throat. "I wondered about—the symbol you painted on your hand to disable the camera. That part of the tape melted, and—I assume it was light-activated, which means it must be different from the seal I already know, so...?"
Bill's face had immediately closed off. He turned away. "You're not my student."
Ford was surprised at how much that felt like a slap to the face. He should have been glad—he'd finally managed to get Bill to agree with what he'd been telling him all summer—but he hadn't expected Bill to ever give up. (He hadn't expected Bill to ever change.)
But he probably hadn't really given up. No doubt he was giving Ford the cold shoulder to see if he begged Bill's forgiveness.
"No. I suppose I'm not." He trudged into the kitchen, rummaged in his coat pocket, and dropped a leather pouch on the table. "Anyway, I'm just here to drop this off."
Bill reached for it, stopped himself, and warily asked, "What is it?"
"The rest of my nutrition pills from my interdimensional travels." When he'd lost his trench coat to the lake during the eclipse last week, he'd had to dig out the old tattered one he'd worn during his travels, and he'd happened to find his pills at the same time. It had occurred to him to bring them up while he was working on Mabel's tape. They were tricky to synthesize, but they lasted forever and the ingredients could be found in almost any dimension—whether there was anything otherwise edible for humans or not.
Bill eyed him suspiciously; but he opened the pouch's snap and peeked into the resealable plastic bag. They didn't look like "pills" so much as small balls of incredibly dense dark brown bread, each about the size of a wad of bubblegum. "Whyyy?"
"To make up the difference in your diet until we figure out the food problem," Ford said. "They're formulated so that four a day meets a human's... well, meets my nutritional needs. I haven't looked into your..." vague gesture, "body... type."
"Is this your emergency stash?"
"It... was." Stan had persuaded Ford to get back onto normal food (as much of a waste of time as it was), but he still had this stash left.
"Why are you giving me your emergency stash."
"Because... I'm not having an emergency and you are?" It was better than a couple of avocados and some hot sauce. Honestly, he should have thought to go looking for his nutrition pills weeks ago. If he'd realized just how severe they'd made Bill's situation... or how stubborn Bill would be about asking for help... or that they'd ever plan to keep Bill around long enough that his nutrition would be an issue.
Bill squinted at him, and for a moment Ford thought he was about to start a fight for some insane reason; but then the air seemed to leak out of him, his shoulders sagged, and he just looked at the nutrition pills. "For starters, they'll need more than twice as much iron."
"That much?"
"And more vitamin D, I don't remember the numbers right now." He shut the pouch, sat back, and lifted his cider can again. "All right."
All right? Ford supposed that was all he was getting. He turned to go.
As he did, Bill said, "Bed?"
Ford glanced back. "Yes?"
"Fine," Bill said. "Have nightmares."
He couldn't help letting out a laugh. "Fine. You too."
"It's too late for you to start trying to sweet-talk me like that, Stanford Pines!" But he tilted his can toward Ford—cheers—chugged down the rest, and cracked open a third.
####
Dipper was already in bed when Mabel charged in. He rolled over slightly, saw she was still in her sleepover pajamas, and mumbled, "Going to sleep too?"
She rummaged around in the closet by the door. "I can't waste that kind of time!" She retrieved a shoe box full of the wooden models of the townspeople she'd crudely whittled last summer at a library arts & crafts program run by Wendy's dad. She dumped them out on the floor, and, for lack of a figure representing Bill, tore a corner off a stray sheet of notebook paper and drew his eye on it. "I've got to capitalize on last night's success!"
She snatched her pyramid prism off the windowsill and taped the paper eye on it. "Hey, you." She poked Bartholomew's cradle. "Why were you a big chicken in front of my friends?"
"What, with you waving that camera around?" Bartholomew said. "I didn't want it to know I have a soul to steal."
"You knew?! You jerk!" She gave the cradle a harder poke, rocking it slightly.
Dipper yawned. "Capitalize on what success? The demon summoning?"
"No! Helping Bill make two new friends!" Mabel sat on the floor, plopped the Bill prism down amidst the other wooden figures, and started setting them upright. Waddles waddled over to sniff at them.
"Oh." Dipper groaned and rolled back over.
"The next stage of his rehabilitation is expanding his social circle. Get him some normal friends that don't want to eat people or destroy moons or whatever!" She grabbed up the notebook paper again, tore it into sections, and wrote on each with the nearest gel pen: "Friends!!!" "Maybe" "NO" "Healthy ☆ Rivals" "♡ Potential dates? ♡" She added thoughtfully, "And maybe get him a love life. We had to chase off his last girlfriend."
Dipper groaned louder. "I don't wanna think about Bill dating. That dumb eye-bat was bad enough."
"She's not dumb, she's into avant-garde experimental films. And she watches them with subtitles. Bill said so." She placed her, Grenda's, and Candy's figures in the Friends section, tentatively placed Dipper halfway between Maybe and No after checking to make sure he wasn't watching, and then started scanning her collection for more likely friends. "Who in town do you think would date Bill Cipher?"
"Nobody. Everyone hates him."
She stuck Wendy and her gang in the "Friends!!!" section, she thought they were a safe bet. "Who do you think would date Bill if they don't know he's Bill?"
"Nobody." Dipper pulled his blanket over his head.
"Pbbt, don't be so negative! You've gotta believe in him." Blubs and Durland? They were probably his friends, right? She sorted them accordingly and added Lazy Susan to the "Maybe" section. "Just you watch. I'll have Bill reintegrated into society before the end of the summer!"
Mabel had picked out several more prospective friends for Bill before Dipper sighed, rolled over again, and said, "Why do you have to make friends for Bill?"
"Bro. Come on. When he's left to his own devices, he keeps talking about pulling people's veins out of their bodies or telling them secret information about their own childhoods. He's probably talking about something creepy right now."
####
"I'm telling you," Bill said, gesticulating emphatically with a cider can. "It works. Your cousins will never argue with you again, and you guarantee they'll be with you forever! It's the perfect way to permanently resolve family disputes!"
"I can see your logic," Stan said, grimacing. "However. I'm not eating my cousins."
"Not all your cousins," Bill insisted. "Just one, to send a message. You don't even need to eat the whole guy! Just half a limb or so. If you want to look like the bigger man, you can even let him choose which one."
Looking faintly nauseous, Stan shoved over his unfinished eggs and pancakes and stood. "What the heck was your home life like?"
"Oh, it was terrific. I was the family golden child." Bill dug into Stan's eggs. "I was everything your family hoped you'd be and was disappointed you weren't!"
"Was that before or after you started eating your cousins?"
"I didn't say I did it. That's your species' thing." Bill said, with a lofty tone that suggested moral superiority, "We'reinedible."
"Ha!" Stan shook his head. "You talk a big game for a guy who's never eaten one family member!"
Bill snapped the tab off his cider can and flipped it at Stan's head.
####
"He's delightful, but he's an acquired taste," Mabel said. "He just needs somebody else to help mediate when he meets new people! Like letting two cats sniff each other under the door!"
"Okay, but why you?"
She thought about that, staring at the pyramid representing Bill; then she shrugged. "Somebody has to."
"They really don't."
"Somebody should," Mabel insisted. "I just really want to see him make friends with everybody here. It's like... making it up to the town for hurting them last year."
"I think leaving them alone would work better. After what he did, he doesn't deserve to be friends with anyone in town—"
"It's important to me, okay?" Mabel snapped. "It just is."
What was that for? Did she think he was criticizing her for befriending him? He mumbled, "I didn't mean you."
She was quiet a moment. "I know."
"Sorry." Dipper was too tired for this conversation; he was just sticking his foot in his mouth. He yawned, muttered, "Good luck scheduling him a playdate, I guess," and rolled over.
####
After sleep and lunch, Ford returned to his study, set up a second blank video cassette to copy the damaged one's data, carefully rewound the damaged one all the way to the beginning, and watched it for the first time in over thirty years.
The recording was grainy and distorted now. It looked so old. This technology had been brand new when Ford had bought his video camera—so new that he'd had to order it from overseas, it hadn't been available in the United States yet. How quickly things changed.
The camera turned to take in Ford's own, younger, beaming face. "This is Dr. Stanford Pines, with the first of what will hopefully be many video recordings of the oddities in Gravity Falls." (In the present, Ford snorted.) "The subject of this first video is a series of magic symbols that, when combined, can animate inanimate objects. Any inanimate object."
He turned the camera around. Like a vampire's morbid pulpit, one of Ford's journals was laid open atop the lid of a black casket. Two heavy chains were laid across each side of the book and locked around the casket's handles to keep them tightly secured. A couple dozen pages in the middle of the book had been left free of the chains, but were pinned down by a cinderblock.
All the security measures were clearly needed; the book was thrashing in its restraints strongly enough to make the casket lid rattle. The visible text writhed across the journal's pages, words and symbols appearing and disappearing in the margins. The susurrations of the pages rubbing against each other sounded like the hissing of a trapped animal.
Ford tipped the cinderblock off the journal and pinned the pages down with his shoe instead. "Several days ago, a local director taught me the spell he used to animate clay figures for his movies. I'd thought perhaps he was creating golems, but aside from the superficial similarity of writing symbols to animate figures of mud, there doesn't seem to be any similarity between his ritual and any golem folklore I've ever heard. Furthermore, his creations are intelligent, capable of speech, and seem to remain loyal to their creator simply out of a passion for acting and respect for his directorial talents rather than any sort of magically-compelled loyalty." A wry note entered his voice. "And I can confirm that the spell itself certainly doesn't impart any loyalty."
The page below his foot erased itself and replaced the text with large, angry text: "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO EARN MY LOYALTY?! YOU DOG EAR MY PAGES! YOU USE ME AS A CHOPPING BOARD!"
"Wh—! Who do you think you are, a Sefer Torah?! Don't be so precious! You're made of faux leather and craft paper, I'll dog ear you all I want!" Ford snapped. "And I already apologized for the chopping board thing!"
The journal stopped moving. "My cover isn't real leather?"
"On my budget?! The closest you've ever come to real cow hide is visiting the Sprott farm!"
While the journal was stunned silent, Ford scooted his foot aside so the camcorder could see a symbol on the opposite page—one of the few bits of ink that didn't seem to shift around the journal's pages. "This is the symbol the director taught me. But it's only supposed to work if you perform an accompanying ritual to activate and power it, which I haven't." He reached down with a gloved hand to flip the loose pages over, then pinned them again under his shoe to let him record another symbol. "This symbol is supposed to power magical artifacts. I suspect writing both these sigils together in the same book has caused them to interact in unexpected ways. But, by themselves, these two are insufficient to bring a book to life—I experimented by copying them both into Journal 1—so perhaps some of the other symbols or spells written in Journal 2 are contributing to—"
"WHAT?!" Journal 2 angrily scrawled around the perimeter of the second symbol. "You tried to bring that teacher's pet to life?! What's wrong with ME!"
"You mean, besides your completely uncooperative attitude, reckless abuse of magic, and murder attempts?" Ford ignored the journal's angry "shouting" as he went on, "But until I figure out what the other symbols are, my... anonymous informant on the occult—"
"You don't mean Creature #326? Tell me it's not Creature #326!"
"—has taught me a sigil that should be able to reverse the effects of the animation spell—"
A series of magical sigils flashed across the journal's page and were quickly replaced by "HA-HA-HA!" The camera shuddered.
"What was that?!" Ford set the camera on the casket where it could watch as he tried to pin down Journal 2's fluttering pages and write on it. "We'll see who's laughing in a minute, you— Stop erasing what I write!" Ford tugged out a sticky note that had been serving as bookmark, hastily scribbled on it, and slapped it into the journal. "Ha!"
The book immediately fell still.
Ford grabbed up a tape dispenser from the floor, pulled off a short strip, and attached the sticky note more securely to the page. "Well. That was effective." He flipped through the journal. "Furthermore, it looks like all the changes Journal 2 made to itself have been reverted. Good. It defaced a lot of data I'd hate to have to reproduce..." As he spoke, the camera slowly rose into the air.
He turned to pick it up, flinched, and quickly got to his feet. "Oh! Uh. Hello."
"Hello," the camera echoed in Ford's voice.
"How did you...?" Ford smacked his forehead, eyes wide with amazement! "Of course! My recording! The symbols my journal wrote! This is fascinating. Recording the symbols on magnetic tape must be just as effective as writing them on paper, even if the symbols aren't visible without specialized equipment. I'll have to experiment with other methods of... of..." Ford petered off as the camera slowly floated higher. He held out a hand hopefully. "Please come back?"
"No," the camera said. "Please give me your soul."
"No." Ford took a deep breath, set Journal 2 on the casket, and flexed his fingers. "Okay. Let's do this again."
As the Ford of thirty-odd years ago wrestled with the camera on the TV screen, the much older Ford sighed. That had been fun. Exploring the bizarre and aberrant had still been fun, back then. That thought disconcerted him; was it no longer fun now? He supposed it still was to an extent. He was just worse at having fun. Harder to dazzle.
He wondered why Journal 2 had been so wary of Creature #326. Bill. It had been right, he was Ford's "anonymous informant"—Ford had told him about his hostile new living journal in a dream, and after Bill had finished laughing, he'd taught Ford how to counteract the spell activating it.
But how did it know?
Could it have warned him about Bill?
Ford would never find out now.
The TV went dark as, in the recording, Ford trapped the camera inside a box. Slightly muffled, Ford said, "Try getting out of that!" Under his breath, he muttered, "I think I prefer writing over narrating anyway."
The screen remained dark for another ten seconds as the camera bumped around and muttered to itself. And then it abruptly cut to a shot of Dipper's bed. Off-screen, Mabel's voice said, "Awesome, still works!" She set the camera on the table under the kids' window—
That was what Ford was looking for. He rewound several seconds and began transferring the recording of Mabel's sleepover onto a fresh tape he'd prepared earlier.
After that, maybe he'd go back to the start again so he could see the other symbols Journal 2 had flashed at the camera and copy them into Journal 5—onto a page already prepared with the magic-negating seal.
####
In the Nightmare Realm, a red book with a golden handprint on the cover boldly labeled "2" floated alone in the void, as it had since it had been tossed in the bottomless pit a year ago.
Its tattered pages were splayed open as it drifted weightlessly through the aether.
On one page near the center of the book, a sticky note with a seal drawn on it was attached to the page with a strip of tape, and surrounded by a warning never to erase the symbol on the sticky note.
The tape had lost its stick after decades buried outdoors; it stuck to the sticky note, but not to the book. The sticky note was barely holding on by a corner.
And as the book slowly wheeled through the void, the last corner peeled off, and the sticky note fluttered away.
Journal 2's pages rustled.
####
(I think y'all who have been keeping up with my posts about this fic know exactly what's coming next. 😎
Thaaat's right. 😎😎
An unrelated flashback chapter!!!
Anyway hope y'all enjoyed, let me know what you think!)
#mabel pines#dipper pines#(for the art)#bill cipher#human bill cipher#(for the fic)#gravity falls#gravity falls fic#gravity falls fanart#fanart#my art#my writing#bill goldilocks cipher
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Tenacity
Pairing: Boston Joel Miller x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Joel Miller will never allow himself to take what he wants and you know that. How can a broken shower make him realize it's too late and he's already fallen for you? (Or Joel fucks you on his beat up couch in the QZ.) Warnings: Smut, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, riding, apocalypse birth control, old furniture doing old furniture things, a grown man dealing with feelings, apologies for the Tess erasure. Words: 2,300
A/N: @ohheypedrito mentioned couch Joel and I couldn't help myself, I am forever in her debt. Thank you to @jennaispunk for beta'ing
Masterlist
____
He knows he shouldn’t have let you in, he should’ve stayed silent and let you think he wasn’t home, but he can never say no to you, a fact you’re well aware of. Your shower has been broken for months, sure you can ask another neighbor, but Joel’s place is your first choice, never bringing a towel, always choosing to wrap yourself in his scent.
You smirk that devilish look and without a word saunter into his bathroom. He settles on the couch, large body dipping in the underfilled cushions, his back aches after a long day of work. The last thing he needs to deal with is his budding erection pressing against the metal zipper but he just can’t stop thinking about your body dripping wet in that damn dirty shower of his.
He’s exhausted, his head thuds against the floral wallpaper turning yellow with age and decay, he can only assume this miniscule apartment once belonged to a nice old woman who liked soft pretty things. Joel too likes soft pretty things, the one he likes the most just happens to be you, currently happily humming behind the bathroom door you refuse to fully close. His eyes focus up on the dingy ceiling above praying for a reprieve from the emotions that bloom within him whenever he thinks of you.
The tap turns off, he steels himself, straightening his sore body. God damnit, he thinks throwing an arm to stretch across the back of the couch. The hand resting against his upper thigh nervously taps against his jeans. Funny that you’re the only thing in this world to make him anxious and yet your presence always leaves him tranquil. He already knows where this will lead, he must be some sort of masochist, never feeling like he deserves your attention but still accepting anything you’ll gift him.
The sound of your post shower routine floats across the small room. Curtain opens, curtain shuts, pitter patters of your feet to the towel rack, a woosh of the heavy fibers settling against your body, your contented hum that prickles against the back of Joel’s neck. You’re the only bright spot in this hellhole, a shining ray that blinds his mind and heart whenever he wonders how someone like you can exist in a world like this.
The dim living room floods with a beam of light from the bathroom, steam billows out of the doorway, your form wrapped only in his towel steps out of the fog, he swears this might be what heaven looks like. There’s enough space for you to change into your clothes in the bathroom, but you never do.
That smirk shows up again, heaven and hell existing in one crooked grin stretched across your mouth. Joel’s never been a religious man, sure he’s prayed during hopeless times in his life, but tonight, he prays to whatever being that will listen to give him the strength so he may provide you everything he has without falling even harder.
Temptress… your foot rests atop the coffee table, delicate hands running along your outstretched leg rubbing sweet smelling oil across your skin. Joel knows his body is marred and battered, rough and calloused, he questions why in the hell you’d ever want your silken curves anywhere near him. You switch legs, if only the room was brighter he could turn his head just a bit and look up the towel.
No need for that, a telepathic wave treads through his brain as he watches you unwrap the towel and toss it aside. Naked and standing only a few feet away from him, he knows it’s not voyeurism when you’re so eagerly inviting him to look but he still feels an inkling of shame. Sweet, sweet girl. Your oil coated palms leave a trail of sheen across the skin he can’t wait to taste. Silently, you saunter over, small bottle of oil in hand, he knows how your skin tingles from the peppermint after applying, he can almost feel it warming his lips. He leans forward, palm instinctively outstretched for you to deposit a few drops of oil into his awaiting hand.
You turn around and kneel on the floor, his hands start at your shoulders lightly rubbing across your skin, tracing the path of your spine. He’s hesitant to put too much pressure, always afraid to deface the gorgeous individual you are, neglecting the fact that this always leads to you heedlessly asking him for more. The oil smooths his movements, your head bobs back and forth melting into his touch. There’s no type of divinity he’d ever worship in the apocalypse, but he surely finds devotion with you and the symphony of quiet moans that leave your lips.
“Feels good,” you whisper. “Thank you.”
He takes a deep breath letting his lungs deflate a long exhale, your gratitude unlocking another long buried sense of ease. Manners are lost in this world, you’re such a rarity.
He doesn’t count himself as a lucky man, but when you turn around and nuzzle your clean face against his soot and dirt covered jeans he just might feel like he’s won the lottery. You plant a kiss against his bulge before pulling yourself up to straddle his lap. Joel’s hands subconsciously station themselves against your back, fingers lightly digging into your damp skin. Suddenly his back no longer ails him.
“When’s the last time you bathed Joel?” You’re still warm from your shower, you cover him like a velvet blanket.
“This morning,” he croaks out, overwhelmed by the sensation of you.
“Mm. Did you think of me while in it? I know you have a habit of doing that.”
He nods, your eyes pooling with desire at the confession.
His denim shirt feels constrictive, your bare skin is too tantalizing, he fidgets underneath, restless from the sensation of his heavy clothes.
No need for that, rattles through his lust-addled brain. Your hands begin deftly unbuttoning his shirt. He loves the way your mouth drops and your head shakes incredulously whenever you get the first glimpse of his bronze skin. He loves that he’s been with you enough to know exactly how you’ll react to him.
His shirt lands atop the towel.
“Perfect aim,” you smile.
Joel chuckles. You’re the only being on this earth that can make him laugh.
You lean forward, placing your ear against his heart, he takes the longest, deepest breath getting lost in the moment, forgetting how much he likes to think he can fight this feeling. He can smell your yarrow shampoo mixed with the peppermint, this world literally stinks, and yet here you are fragrant and pleasing.
Your hand brushes back and forth against a patch of chest hair, the other dragging up and down his arm. He loves when you pet him, nothing calms him more. He still can’t come up with an exact reason why he refuses to let himself have you when you’re the only thing he longs for. You’re torturing him right now, he wishes you were clueless about the power you hold over him.
He places a kiss on your hair, breathing in your scent, he just can’t help himself.
“Wish I had wallpaper this pretty in my apartment,” you muse.
“No need for the wallpaper, you’re pretty enough,” it escapes his lips before he can stop it.
“Oh really?” Pulling back and sitting tall atop his lap, your eyebrow arches. “You think I’m prettier than faded old lady wallpaper?”
God damnit, your mouth is too goddamn smart.
“You know what I mean.”
“I do. You’re pretty too.”
He wants to kiss that godforsaken smug smile off your lips.
No need for that, crowds his mind, much like your lips do now against his. His mouth opens to accept your tongue. He groans against your mouth when you yank his hair, pulling his head back so you can lick into his mouth. He chases your mouth, sucking your lower lip between his plush lips. Your cunt finds the tent in his jeans and begins rocking against it. Your kiss turns sloppier, tongues rolling against each other, hot breaths intermingling. Your lips move down to nibble his chin, licking your way down to his neck. He growls your name when you clamp down and suck the tanned skin into your mouth.
He needs to feel you against all of his skin.
He’s never hated his belt more than right now as he clumsily unbuckles it between your writhing hips.
“Christ,” he barks, quickly unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, you give him a temporary reprieve from your grinding as he raises his hips and yanks his pants down.
He gathers you into his arms and leans forward, swiping the old books and magazines off the coffee table top laying you across it.
He kicks out of his jeans, his knees protest as he sinks to his knees in front of you splayed across the oak.
His eyes roll into the back of his head and flutter shut at the first taste of you. Tangy, sweet, all woman, all his, for as long as he thinks he deserves.
Sweet, sweet girl.
Your coos and purrs dance through his ears twisting their way into his heart. He licks a stripe up your pussy, swirling his tongue around your clit and flattening against it. Your hands climb all over his hair, grasping and pulling, he loves when you take what you want from him. Forcing him to hand himself over to you, body, mind, soul, heart. Whether that be a shower or his tongue against your pussy.
He could stay here forever, the rest of his body still as a statue, just his mouth allowed to move against your sweet cunt, fucking you with his tongue, massaging your clit with his lips.
Your hips thrash against his face, legs wrapping around his head, pushing him even farther into your searing pussy.
He can feel you begin to dissolve into him, your thighs trembling against his ears, the pressure of your legs wrapped around him increasing. He’s encircled by all of your beauty, your slick pours into his mouth as your orgasm explodes into him. He drinks down everything you give him, never able to be greedy outside of his time spent with you writhing and naked under his touch. You unlock your legs, your body still quaking from your climax.
She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
His cock stands weeping between his legs, he gathers the precum and spreads it across his tip before pumping himself watching your eyes hungrily focus on him.
You spread your legs farther open with an unspoken invitation for him to take your pussy for his keeping. He accepts it, his wide cock slowly engulfing in your wet heat.
You gasp and smile at the sensation, he feels his walls crumble.
God damnit, there’s that damn smile again.
He loves how you take him, drawing your hips against his, the two of you tangled in hedonistic harmony here in this hellhole of a quarantine zone. You’re the only reason he stays.
He’ll never allow himself to say it, he fights like hell to not feel it, yet another battle he’s going to lose.
He bends forward, your head pinned between his forearms, he sucks at your lips, you can taste yourself all over his mustache. His cock slides in and out, pace turning more punishing the louder you cry out. Neighbors be damned, you’re the only one he likes, at least they’ll know you’re his.
His weight presses against you and the rickety coffee table, both shaking as he pummels into your pussy. A crack emits from the leg he’s been meaning to fix, the decrepit coffee table disintegrates underneath all of his power. He’d laugh at his luck if he wasn’t so fucking turned on by you. Joel gathers you in his arms, throwing himself back against the couch, his cock never leaving the heat of your entrance. You sink fully down on him, his cock hitting the gooey spot inside of you that makes you liquefy.
Sweat drips down his face, he’s so fucking tired already knowing his body will protest everything he’s put it through, but you’re worth it, the strangled noises you’re panting out will soothe his sore muscles come tomorrow.
He nips at your jaw, licking the sheen of sweat on your skin and tasting the prickling peppermint. His nails rake against your back, you’re so fucking smooth, the harder you ride him, the deeper his nails press into your skin.
Your body grows tense above him, his lips crush against yours wanting to gulp down all of your screams. You’re shattered by him again, his cock feels like the only thing tethering you down to this earth. He’s close, so fucking close. His orgasm has been waiting for you to pulse around his cock, your softness squeezing his last bit of resolve.
Joel pulls out, immediately bemoaning the cruelty of not being able to cum inside you. One, two, three, pumps and he’s cumming against your stomach, your head angling down, wide eyes watching as the white ropes drip down your skin.
Your ear finds his heart again, Joel knows it’s racing and you can hear it. He kisses your hair, humming a satisfied groan. Little does he know this is your favorite part of your shower visits, knowing that for just a short period of time you’ve made him happy.
“I guess you’re going to need a new table.”
“I’ll be able to fix it, used to be a contractor.”
He surprises himself at the divulgence, reminding him to keep you at arms length, you’re too good for him.
No need for that.
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