#countering adversity
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The Power of Rejection: Embracing Authentic Expression
Rejection is more than a mere redirection Reflecting on my experiences with releasing my work, âEmpowered Journey,â I remembered how I would intuitively and meditatively get the message not to water down my ideas under any circumstances. I thought this was just me being guided not to alter the message, but later, I realized it was more than that. It reminded me of what I had known before. ItâŠ
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#adversity as a test of authenticity#appreciating change#authentic expression#authenticity#avoiding energetic drain#breaking free from expectations#choosing one&039;s path#coercive behaviors#coercive relationships#connection to inner self#countering adversity#countering negativity#criticism#cultural pressures#dealing with negative feedback#defying expectations#draining interactions#embracing change#embracing uniqueness#Empowered Journey#energetic alignment#energetic resonance#energy preservation#enlightenment#establishing healthy boundaries#facing opposition#false narratives#Handling rejection#Healthy Boundaries#holistic expression
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there's nothing your nanami loves more than watching you cook.
he enjoys the way you get into it, crinkling your brow as you multitask from nursing your sauce to peeling your vegetables. he just loves everything you love, including your stupid, smutty tv shows and perpetually sad music.
if you carved a hole in his chest, you'd probably just see... you. every part that encaptures your soul.
tonight, you're cooking for him again wearing a matching pajama set you know he loves. you're wearing it as he slugs back in from work, frustration brewing and rising above his head like a spell. his shoulders are so heavy that it's palpable. you drop the knife in your hands.
"oh, kento." you purr, approaching him with your arms outstretched. in a single move, he drops his glasses and loosens his tie, ready for you to dote on fully. "I'm sorry you had a bad day."
"you're making something good?" he puts on a millisecond smile for you, closing his big hands across your back. the air around you smells like home, and you feel like it. soft to the touch and packed full of comfort and ease. it's why nanami married you -- there's no pain or adversity within these four walls. that's only a work thing.
"your favorite, f-
he chuckles, cutting you off from the tangent he knows you'll take him on. "I don't see you laid out on that stove."
"-ken!" you slap both hands across the bottom of his pretty face, flustered and blushing red. you knew he has a mind to say something risque, but it always surprises you when he does. he's still not the easiest person to read. "jus- just sit down and I'll finish up."
"mm, okay. take your time." nanami has to peel himself away from you, and it takes all of his might. on the upside, he can watch your back as you fuss around in the kitchen. silently, you check the pot of rice, noting the remaining cooking time, stir and lower the flame on your meat and head back to continue cutting on your board. nanami studies all of it. he truly loves you so much.
so, he can't help the fact that the beautiful meal you'd been doting over got a bit too crispy.
your nanami just had to taste you for himself, already two fingers deep into your aching cunt, he leans down between your thighs to lap at your sweetness. he could die between these thighs -- make a home in the cushioned, comforting skin and stay forever.
he needed your pheromones in a cologne -- your taste on the back of his tongue forever, because you were so delelectible. you're always insanely fucking pretty when you're mewling his name; lovely, scattered renditions only you can call him tumbling out.
he's dragging the thickness of his tongue between your folds, focusing the tip against your swollen clit. he has you right where he wants you, knowing its not enough to make you cum immediately, but just enough to send you over the edge.
you're sliding back on the counter, its slickness from your body and nanami's spit not making it very suitable to eat off of. neither of you care, because it's just so sweet to be in this shared presence.
it's so lewd to hear your husband's fingers fucking you over the sound of your dinner sizzling and burning. but, that's just exactly what you signed up for when you agreed to become
mrs. nanami kento
#a little short n kind of shitty but ilu nanami#literal definition of 'yes i do the cooking yes i do the cleaning'#.the wife guy!! <3#.nanami <3#jjk fanfic#jjk fanworks#jjk smut#jjk x reader#nanami kento#nanami x reader#jjk nanami#nanami smut#nanami jjk#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#husband nanami
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I think you're right that it's significant, and I think Mori is clever to recognize that Akutagawa is a rook.
Like a rook, Akutagawa is powerful, but generally contained and often undercut by his predictability. However, because he's keenly aware of his own constraints, and because others often aren't (especially regarding variables they've internalized as known), he's able to play into and against his own predictability to paradoxically surprise them.
He moves within the confines of his rigidity to shape outcomes, sometimes more effectively than his more dynamic opponents and peers. Rooks do that too, if you let them.
Me, knowing nothing about chess, probably overthinking the significance of referencing akutagawa in this scene, but is going to look it up later anyways
#i have very specific chess feelings and thoughts re: rooks (which is what that piece is)#because in elementary school i was in a program for intellectually gifted students - by which i do NOT mean an honors program#i mean i displayed several specific neuro characteristics and struggled in a classroom environment such that i was referred for screening#the results of the screening flagged me for several additional tests and my results on those tests then prompted a comprehensive assessment#which was conducted by a licensed examiner who additionally administered another test chosen specifically based on my prior data#the report from which triggered a review of all of the above data by a panel of specialists who determined that I was wired so atypically#that I required specifically designed support services to avoid an adverse impact my access to education#ie I was not considered academically gifted which is what people are usually thinking of when they talk about giftedness (esp on tumblr)#i prefaced with all of that to counter misconceptions and emphasize that i was not in a program for smart and highly successful students#i was in a program for students with distinct cognitive processing needs that could not be met without specialized intervention#but inanely and entirely b/c of misconceptions the administrators at my school forcibly registered us in an annual chess tournament#which they wouldn't let us opt out of b/c there was a funding incentive for the school if we advanced far enough#ironically chess is a bad fit for this type of giftedness b/c it's rote + relies on bounded conventions instead of creative problem solving#but anyway i did not want to fucking play chess especially not competitively - it's boring and gets redundant#so i intentionally threw all of my games to remove myself from the tournament early#except my fellow indentured chess competitors noticed i was doing that and they were also bored and didn't care for the tournament#and so several of them made a game out of forcibly advancing me as far as they could by outmaneuvering my attempts to lose#horrifically they managed to corner me into winning enough that i was in serious danger of advancing#and so i started AGGRESSIVELY practicing chess in my spare time to learn how to shape the board and get confident in my ability to do so#i played against computers and then strangers online for hours a day and i studied checkmate patterns and how to subvert + reconfigure them#all so i could play well enough to ensure i'd lose even when being actively sabotaged#it worked - i narrowly escaped advancing that year and I don't think they were able to lose to me again after that#they kept trying - even playing me outside of tournaments to try and figure out how i was consistently losing#it's b/c i layered multiple strategies that involved breaking select conventions + manipulating their focus and psychology#BUT the fulcrum of my approach relied heavily on my rooks and select pawns as my most valuable pieces#i got very good at using rooks to shape the board without placing them in a position to be captured until i wanted them to be#once i had a few pawns close to promotion i would shift my rooks into bait b/c once one was taken i could just promote a pawn into a rook#and because absent a potential stalemate people almost always promote pawns into queens#my opponent would forget my additional rooks and would make choices based on the implicit assumptions that my deputized pawns were queens#rooks are treasures
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w.c. âș 4.9k
Plot âș if you had told yourself six weeks ago, that you would meet the camboy youâve been faping for a year, youâd laugh. But meeting Gojo was a curse from God. Part 2 of this post!
Warnings âș same as before. Gojo is a little shit and very annoying. A bit of dubious consent at first since reader doesnât say âyesâ. Nothing extreme. How yall not notice the porn I linked in p.1 though? Smh
Kinks âș size kink, praise, rough sex, lite dry humping, creampie, manhandling, possessive Gojo, groping, brat behavior from reader, lite dom/sub,
àłàŸàż ËË-
âTodayâs my lucky day, huh?â
Oh, fuck.
You kinda just⊠stood there for a few seconds, staring at Gojo in shock. Before you screamed out in fear and ran into the back room.
So humiliating.
âHahaha!!! Put your glass back on, your blue eyes scared (Name)!ïżœïżœïżœ Nobara laughed, walking to join you in the back room. Megumi only rolled his eyes.
Nobara found you in a fetal position on the ground, rocking back and forth as she stared at you in shock.
âOkay, I know his eyes are freaky but it couldnât have been that bad,â she said, kneeling down to get on your level. She âcomfortablyâ patted your hair, twirling a few strands around her index finger.
It took a few minutes before you could really open your mouth.
âIâŠknowâŠhimâŠâ
âHow? This is his first time here.â
You sat upright, staring Nobara right in the eyes.
âCamboy.â
Nobara was quiet, her eyes slowly widening as she took in the new information. Her mouth opened as a shriek left her mouth.
âNo fucking way?! Him?! Youâve seen his dick?!â
âNobara!!!â
She lowered her voice. âHim? Really? The one I called a 4 inch? HeâsâŠ. The one you had the call with? Holy shit! Do you think he remembers you?â
âHopefully⊠not.. but he said itâs his lucky day.. do you thinkâŠ?â
âMaybe heâs still mad over the four inch comment.â
âUhm.â
âOr maybe heâs upset that you were a guy.â
âI dunnoâŠâ
âOh! Maybe he wants to fuck you.â
âOh câmon. Now youâre just saying shit.â You stood up with a grunt. âIf Iâm lucky, he was just saying something about getting a discount. Can you do the cake for him? I really donât wanna talk to him.â
Nobara frowned but didnât say anything else. She walked away to go do Gojoâs order. It was silent for the most part, the slight muffled voices of Gojo and Nobara talking. Though it seemed Nobara was talking shit about him.
Hopefully, Gojo wouldnât come here again due to Megumiâs insistence.
ËË°âą*ââ·
âSo, can you take my order this time?â
You blinked, staring right at Gojo as he leaned on the counter, grinning at you. It was in the evening and the cafe was mostly empty. So you didnât feel bad about shaking your head. You had hoped this blue eyed freak would leave you alone but he seemed set on bothering you.
Heâd even come on days Megumi wasnât there yet or was off that day!
You didnât speak to him directly. Too embarrassed. All you could remember was your desperate moans to know his name. Yup, no way in hell were you going to speak to him.
Nobara came over to the cashier and took overâyou didnât even have to ask. This had been happening for weeks now. Just a simple look was all she needed. Even Inumaki and Megumi knew what to do. Though the two didnât know why you seemed so adverse to speaking to Gojo.
Megumi believed you hated him for being annoying. He could relate to that.
Inumaki believed Gojo mustâve did something because you hardly hated people.
So he did from time to time purposely put salt in Gojoâs coffee.
And would sometimes put jalapeño seeds into his food.
What could he say? A true friend.
Nobara was the only one to know the truth. And while she did think you were overreacting a bitâshe knew how embarrassing your actions were. If you didnât want to speak to Gojo, so be it. Sheâs not one to force it.
You were in the back room when Nobara came back, sighing to herself. She plopped down on the chair beside you, staring down at the table before looking over to you.
âThat blue eyed slut keeps asking for you itâs annoying.â
âSlut?â
âAffectionately.â She said. ââWhy does he keep ignoring me?â âWhy isnât he speaking to me?â âLet me talk to him.â âArenât you his friend?â Blah blah blaaaah!â She cried, her voice rising in pitch out of frustration as her hands dug into her scalp, moving her hair around.
âWhat would he even want to talk about?â You whispered to yourself.
âMaybe heâs scared youâre going to tell Megumi.â
âWhat would I gain from that? The only thing Iâll tell Megumi is to ban him from the cafe.â
Nobara let out a soft huff. âReally though⊠if heâs making you that uncomfortable, tell Megumi.â She said, her voice suddenly serious. She reached out and rested her hand against yours, squeezing it gently. âYou donât even have to tell Megumi the true reason⊠he wonât judge. If it comes down to it, weâll tell Boss.â
She pulled away. Your eyes met hers, a bit shocked at how.. caring she was about the situation. You knew you were overreacting a bit and a normal person wouldâve just told Gojo straight up to leave them alone. And you knew she was right.
Megumi wouldnât judge. He would tell Gojo to stop coming.
ButâŠ
It was like you didnât want him to go for some reason.
In the back of your mind, you truly wanted to know why he kept bothering you.
Was he angry?
Scared youâd tell people?
Well⊠it couldnât be good either way.
You just hoped heâd get tired of you soon.
ËË°âą*ââ·
The sound of loud music was beating with your heart as you leaned against the wall. You, Nobara, and a begrudged Megumi were at a newly opened gay club in Shibuya. It was cool for like the first two hours but now your social battery was practically dead.
Megumi was somewhere⊠you remembered him saying he needed some fresh air.
Nobara was having the time of her life with some girls on the dance floor. Good for her.
You were dressed way more conservatively than most of the people at the club. Just a t-shirt and pants. You werenât someone to dress up like that. As you drowned your drink and placed it on the bar counter, you asked for some water.
No one was approaching you which was great. You didnât know if you could handle talking to someone right now.
But that soon changed when someone was suddenly right beside you.
A taller guy, black hair and brown eyes. He seemed to be looking for one thing. You didnât look his way at first, believing he was just getting a drink until a shot glass was slid over to you.
âWhatâs a pretty boy like you doing here all alone?â
TypicalâŠ
You forced a slight smile. âIâm here with friends. No thanks.â You said, sliding the shot back over to him. He shrugged and took it himself, downing in seconds.
It was quiet for a moment, even though the music still roared in the background. âWould your friends mind if I steal you for a little bit?â He suddenly asked, his lips right near your ears. You flinched but couldnât help but grin in response.
âWhy? Where are you going to take me?â
âWherever youâd like, baby.â His hand slowly trailed down your shoulders to your hips, lightly squeezing before his finger teased the slight opening in your pants. Since you were so touch starved and the last time a man ever touched you was a hundred years ago, you didnât push him away at first.
So what? You were desperate at this point.
Dildos get lonelyâŠ
âMhm, I donâtââ
You didnât get to finish your sentence because suddenly the man was⊠gone? You blinked rapidly before looking around in confusion. Huh?! As you reeled in shock at how fast a man could just disappear, you felt a tug at the belt loop of your pants before the hand grasped it entirely and pulled you out of the club.
âWho?! Dude, youâre going to rip my fucking pants off! Getââ
The fresh air slapped you in the face before you were harshly pushed against the wall of the alleyway. Your eyes saw dark spots before you could fully open them, ready to scream bloody murder before you saw who attacked you.
Fucking Gojo!
You groaned, rolling your eyes as you looked away. No way he found you here! Did Megumi tell him? Nobara? No, theyâd never do that to you. Oh⊠he was a fucking stalker!
But you didnât get to accuse him as he grabbed your face and forcefully turned it so you would look him in the eye. No, your cock didnât twitch. Youâre just horny.
You didnât speak. More so just because you knew it pissed him off that you werenât. So you only gave him your meanest glare and closed your eyes, knowing he wouldnât pry them open. Only to be wrong because apparently Gojo has no sense of boundaries.
He did force open one of your eyes and you quickly slapped his hand away. Fuck that felt weird. You looked at him shock, the fuck was his problem?
But you werenât going to speak first! No way. You were going to be petty until the day you died.
Gojo was silent for a moment before groaning, deciding he had to be the one doing the talking.
âWhatâs your problem?â
âMyâ?!â You clamped your lips shut. He almost got you there. You reached up and began pushing at his chest but you didnât even make him budge. Gojo rolled his eyes and grabbed your wrists, with one hand, and pushed them against the wall, right above your head.
âYou avoid me like I killed your entire family. What the hell did I do?â
You pursed your lips and shook your head. For the next few minutes, it was Gojo spouting questions and you acting like a child being asked if they were the one who drew on the wall. It wouldâve been funny if it wasnât so stupid.
It took a moment before Gojo was finally giving up. He sighed as his hand released his grip on your wrists. You watched as he pulled away and suddenly, you didnât want him to do that.
So without thinking, you grabbed the belt loops of his pants and pulled him close. Gojoâs eyes widened, his hands quickly moving to rest on either side of you so he didnât crush into you. You didnât like the sad look on his face.
But you were about to regret it as his signature smirk appeared. He leaned in close, his mouth pressing against your ear. His light chuckle sent a shiver down your spine, making you unintentionally arch your back.
âI see how it is⊠youâre into being a brat, huh?â
You shook your head violently, biting your lip. Okay, you were certainly playing into it. But it was the reason your ex broke up with you so you didnât exactly like the word used in regards to you.
Something something ex boyfriends suck
You gasped as his leg was shoved between yours, rubbing right against your crotch. It happened so fast you couldnât even think straight.
âI asked you question. Answer.â He said, pulling away so you could see his face. His blue eyes stared straight into yours, making you squirm in embarrassment. You kept remembering the incident. Cumming just from seeing his face.
Gosh, who can say theyâve done that?!
The only sense of light in the alleyway was the moonlight and the blinking neon sign of the club. It would occasionally light up Gojoâs face and you felt your cock twitch when you got a clear view. His eyes staring you down. Jaw tight. His lips no longer in a smirk. You didnât know he could look so serious.
His eyebrow raised a bit when you didnât answer. You wanted to see what heâd do and he was quick to show you. His leg began to rub your crotch but it was slowâway too slow for you to get anything from it. It felt like a taste to what you could truly get if you acted like a good boy.
As your cock began to twitch, straining against your pants, he stopped. You whimpered, staring up at him with pity as he tilted his head.
You knew what you had to do to get what you wanted.
âNâŠnoâŠâ You whispered, shaking your head. He let out a sigh, a hand moving away from the wall as it harshly gripped your face, forcing you to look him in the eye.
âI donât like liars. Tell me the truth. What happened to the good boy on the call, huh? The one who listened and put on a nice show for me.â
You bit your lip and closed your eyes, not wanting to look him in the eyes. When you felt his hand squeeze your cheeks, you slowly opened them only to see him looking at you with worry.
âDo you want to stop?â He asked.
Did you?
Did you want to stop?
You reached up and placed your hands on his shoulder, leaning up on your toes to press a soft kiss on his lips. It was soft, way too soft compared to the debauchery you two were just participating in.
Gojo eagerly kissed you back, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you closer. He kissed you as if he was hungry. Like if you were to pull away, heâd miss his chance. You moaned into the kiss as he grasped your ass, gripping it tightly before moving downward to grab your legs and hoist you up.
He slammed you against the wall, never pulling away from the kiss as you gripped his hair for some sort of purchase. The innocent kiss you had given him was leaning to pure lust.
His teeth biting your lips, earning little gasps from you. Youâd never kissed a man like this before. But even though it was pure lust, you somehow felt loved.
âAhem..â
You both froze. Gojo was still biting at your lip as you both glanced to your right to see a pissed off Megumi.
âI called you to take me home, not fuck my friend.â
Gojo pulled away, though his hand still held you up, âMegumi~~ sorry! I just got caughtââ
ââfucking my friend? Câmon, I found Nobara.â Megumi stormed away while you felt like jumping off the nearest bridge.
Jesus Christ!! You might as well replace your middle name with âEmbarrassment!â
Gojo only chuckled slightly as he pulled out his car keys and placed it in your hand. He gently placed you back on your feet. âGo to the car, Iâll join you guys in a minute.â
âWhat are you doing?â
He simply smirked. âTaking out some trash.â
He was so weirdâŠ
ËË°âą*ââ·
Nobara was conked out in the spare bedroom while Megumi slept on a futon in the same room. Gojo had driven you three to his apartment. It was actually quite nice. You wondered what his actual job was because you knew being a cam boy couldnât actually pay that well.
While Gojo was looking for some spare clothes for you, you decided to take a look around. You found his office and instantly knew this was where he did his cams. It was surreal seeing it in person.
As you closed the door, you shrieked when you came face to face with Gojo. He was smirking, handing you a pair of pajamas he found that could possibly found you.
âHow was it?â
âHow was what?â
He rolled his eyes. âThe room. Better in person?â
You simply let out a huff. âWhereâs the bathroom? Iâll change in there.â
âNo needâchange in my room. Youâll be sleeping there anyway.â
And then he just walked to his room. You stood there for a moment, mouth agape. Sleep? Sleeping? In there? His room?!
If there wasnât two people already sleeping you wouldâve screamed.
You slowly followed behind him, unable to stop the steady rise of your heartbeat. Your stomach felt weird, slightly churning as you thought about what could happen. But it didnât feel like anxiety, more so like excitement. Though you couldnât fight back the slight feeling of nausea.
You havenât slept with someone in over a year.
And Gojo was so experienced.
Would he compare you to others?
Would you disappoint him?
You suck at giving blowjobs, havenât gotten out of the habit of not using teeth. Your ex complained about that all the time.
Has he even fucked a guy before?
All these thoughts rushed in your head before you bumped right into something. You glanced up, grinning shyly as Gojo raised an eyebrow. His hands gripped your shoulder as he leaned down a bit to look you right in the eye.
âWhatâs wrong? Nervous?â
You couldnât find it in yourself to lie. So you mutely nodded.
Gojo chuckled slightly, his hand moving up to lightly caress your cheek. âDonât be. Iâll lead.â
His hand slowly slid down, his thumb lightly teasing your lips. It pulled down at your bottom lip before he switched to his index and middle finger. They pushed your lips apart before inching their way inside your mouth. It took a moment for you to not push them outâgetting used to the odd feeling of them.
Slowly, you lightly suckled on them, closing your eyes to try and keep calm. More than likely, he was going to finger you open. And you felt your cock twitch at the thought.
You almost completely lost yourself, not even noticing the stuttered breath Gojo let out. Your eyes opened slightly, looking up at him hooded eyelids. He almost looked possessed. His throat bobbed as his lips pulled into a slight snarl.
You pulled away, taking his fingers out of your mouth. âWhatâs wrongâŠ?â
âI wish it didnât take me so long to fuck you.â
ËË°âą*ââ·
âJeez, youâre tight, (Name), you donât stretch yourself often?â
The sound of your muffled whimpers was filling the room, moonlight seeping through the curtains as you tried to keep still. You were sitting on Gojoâs lap, your legs spread open as he fingered you. His fingers stretched you deeper than you thought was possible.
Your back pressed against his chest as you had your hand clamped around your mouth. You only imagined his hands inside you. Especially during his streams. It was almost like a fantasy that it was happening right now.
That he actively sought after you.
âIf they werenât here,â he muttered, most likely referring to Megumi and Nobara, âI wouldnât have allowed you to hide those pretty little sounds.â
You felt yourself blush.
He finds your moans pretty?
If you werenât too busy moaning, you wouldâve been giggling.
His fingers stretched you slowly and methodically, rubbing against your wet walls as if searching for something. You wondered if he was having trouble reaching your prostate. So you shuffled a bit, thinking maybe it was the angle you were sitting in that was giving him trouble.
âUncomfortable?â He suddenly asked, his fingers stopping.
âOh.. no⊠thought you⊠were having trouble reaching my.. uhm, prostate.â
âI wasnât. I know where it is.â You felt his finger brush against it, causing you to whimper. âIâm avoiding it on purpose.â
âW..why..?â
A light chuckle left him as he rested his chin on your shoulder, looking down at your nude lower half. He hummed slightly, his free hand trailing downward to tease your leaking cock. It was still taking you some getting used to being fully nude while he was still dressed.
âBecause of this.â
Suddenly, his fingers began to harshly target your prostate. Rubbing and teasing it relentlessly. Your body arched against him, toes curling as you screamed out. It was inhumane at how he was able to keep the fast pace with just his fingers.
No wonder those girls in the video practically screamed when he fingered them.
His free hand grasped your cock, thumb lightly teasing your sensitive tip. The constant between the harsh thrusts and slow, sensual movements on your cock was something you never felt before. Your hands gripped at everything beneath youâbedsheets, your leg, but soon found purchase gripping his thigh.
Wow, how often does he work out?
You couldnât dwell too much on it as you began to feel the familiar sensation in your body. Your cock leaking pre-cum all over your tummy. But just as you almost reached your peak, it was over.
His fingers pulled out.
âWhaâŠ?â You muttered, chest heaving as you glanced over at him.
Gojo only patted your thighs before motioning for you get off. You hesitantly stood up, legs feeling entirely like jelly as you watched him pull down his pants, his cock sprinting out.
It was huge.
That seven inch dildo certainly came in handyâŠ
His cock was possibly close to eight. Seeing it in person was different from any video or live stream. The veins and just how much thicker it was.
âCondom.â He whispered, pointing at the nightstand beside the bed. He began to lightly stroke his cock, spreading the pre-cum leaking from his tip.
You didnât move to get the condom. He didnât use condoms when fucking those girls. Why did he need to use one with you?
There was some weird surge of jealousy within you. And it wasnât because he fucked other people.
It was because he wasnât going to cum inside you.
Well, what if you wanted that?
âMhm, no.â You replied, pushing his hand away from his cock.
Gojo raised an eyebrow at this, watching as you moved to sit down on his lap. You grasped his cock and placed it right between your ass, lightly teasing your puckered hole. Your free hand gripping tightly at his shoulder, balancing yourself a bit.
âYou cum in all those girls.â You whispered, smirking slightly as you leaned in. âWhat if I want it too?â
A laugh left Gojo as his hands reached over and grasped your waist, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. You were sure this was going to leave a mark. Any sort of control you just tried to hold was pushed away by Gojo.
âAw~ itâs okay, baby. Youâll be replacing those girls, no need to think about âem anymore.â
âWhâ?â
You screamed out as he pulled you down onto his cock. Your face squinted in pain as you whimpered and squirmed, trying to get used to his cock. It was different seeing it than feeling it stretch you whole. No wonder he spent a good amount of time stretching you out.
Gojo kept his grip on you tight as he bounced you up and down on his cock. You didnât get no say in how he got to use you. Your voice filled the room, you forgot all about keeping quiet by this point.
âNgh, sorry, hate this position.â
You didnât even get to answer him back when you were suddenly picked up from off his cock and dropped onto the bed. You were now on your knees as he got behind you. His cock teased your hole for just a moment before he slammed right back inside.
Your face squished against the bed as his hands moved downward, gripping your ass tightly as he began massaging it. His cock stretched you fool, easily rubbing against your prostate with each thrust.
It was better than any dildo.
âYou donât even know⊠how much I masturbated to your moans,â he suddenly said.
You almost didnât hear him at first. âH..hng..?â
âI recorded the sound of your moans during the call. How could I not when it made me cum so fast,â he reached down, pressing his chest against your back. He angled his hips against your ass and began thrusting again, his cock continuously rubbing right against your prostate.
You tried to say something but the only sound that left you was cries of pleasure. The sounds of skin slapping and your whimpers filled the room.
It was weird, totally. ButâŠ
Youâd look past it.
Dick too good, yâknow?
âThen you came from just seeing my face.â He chuckled slightly. âKnew I couldnât let you get away but you blocked me everywhere.â
He pulled away slightly, his thrusting coming to a pause. You whimpered in disappointment, glancing back at him. Gojo grinned slightly as he grabbed your arms, pulling them back a bit before sliding down to grasp your hands.
The position wasnât comfortable at all, having your hands behind your back. You couldnât hold up your face anymore, being forced to just let it lay on the sheets.
âImagine my luck when I saw you again. Youâre prettier in person.â His hips slammed against your ass, earning a scream from you. But he didnât move again, leaving you to calm down from the harsh thrust.
âBut then you ignore me.â He muttered. âThought I was going to have to give up on you⊠but today was my lucky day. Just had to throw that guy away and you were mine.â
You felt your cock twitch.
His?
You were his.
He released his grip on your hands and pulled out again. You didnât even get to whine this time as you were flipped onto your back, staring at him now. He crawled over you, his cock easily sliding back inside. You wrapped your legs around his waist to hold him close.
âTell me youâre mine.â
âIâm yoursâŠâ You whispered, âwonât⊠run away anymore⊠promise.â
Gojo grinned slightly as he leaned down to press a kiss on your forehead. His hand patted your head, his finger twirling a strand of your hair. Seeing him like this, so soft compared to his camboy persona was out of a dream.
âIâll be niceâsince itâs our first.â He sat back, his hands reaching down to rest on the curve of your hips.
As he began to slowly thrust inside of you, you couldnât help but sigh. It felt nice. The soft rhythm of his cock going in and out. But it soon started to pick up, his grip tightening on your hips. You whimpered, gripping at his chest as you wondered how this was going to go.
âG-Gojo?!â
âHm?â
âHâŠhow is this nice..?!â You managed to moan out.
His hips slammed against your ass, the sound of skin slapping together returning in harmony with your moans.
âThis is my nice.â He grinned.
Fucking asshole!
His hand moved up and gripped one of yours, tangling it into a handhold. Your hand was practically engulfed by his. Crap, he was making you feel crazy.
âYou know my name now, so scream it.â
You gasped in shock, suddenly remembering when you had whined in the call about not having a name to moan. Your back arched as his pace somehow picked up even more, his hips slamming into you with a force you questioned was human.
If this was his nice⊠you didnât want to know what his mean was.
Okayâthat was a lie, you definitely wanted to know.
You started to moaning his name which soon turned into screams. Your cock spurted pathetically on your stomach, coating it with your cum. But he didnât stop. He kept his rough pace as he used you for his own release.
His last thrusts practically took your breath away as he pushed deep inside of you. The only sound left was your gasps as he cummed, coating your insides.
Your hand was still entangled with his and he didnât seem to want to let go. As he pulled out, cum slowly leaked out of you, coating the bedsheets beneath you. He laid down beside you, wrapping his free arm around your waist as he tugged you closer.
It was silent for a moment, only your heavy breathing as you tried to calm down. Gojo buried his face in your neck, humming slightly. The moonlight shined down on you both through the windows, illuminating his white hair beautifully.
As your eyes felt heavy, you cuddled closer to him and fell asleep with a smile.
ËË°âą*ââ·
âI canât believe you.â
You and Gojo sat kneeling on the floor in front of a disappointed Nobara and Megumi.
âI can believe Gojo⊠but (Name)âŠâ Megumi whispered, shaking his head as he looked at you.
Nobara sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. âI thought he was killing you at first. Can you imagine the horror of hearing you scream in the middle of the night?!â
You froze, glancing up at Nobara. âDid youâŠ?â
âHead back down!â She yelled, you quickly obeyed. âAnd yes, I did see Gojo fucking you! So traumatizing.â She whined, wiping at her imaginary tears.
âI wish I didnât hear it.â Megumi muttered.
âSo, were you guys role playing or something?! Why did you act like you hated him for almost two months straight?!â Nobara asked, staring right at you.
You pursed your lips, keeping your head down. âUhm⊠I dunno⊠I justâŠâ
Gojo grinned. âIt was a brat tamer role play!â
âI didnât need to know that!â Nobara screamed, covering her ears as she began to sing to herself as she ran away to the kitchen. Megumi only gave you another disappointed look, one that reminded you of a mother, before glaring daggers at Gojo.
âYou still canât bother me at work.â He said before walking away.
Gojo simply laughed, standing up. He stretched as he held out a hand to help you up. âDonât mind Megumi, heâll get over it.â
You nodded with a pout, hoping he was right. As you moved to go join Megumi and Nobara in the kitchen, Gojo suddenly grabbed your hand. He pulled you close, pressing his lips against your ear.
âI wasnât lying about you replacing the girls, I wanna show you off.â He whispered before releasing you. He gave you his signature cocky smirk before walking away to go bother Megumi some more.
You stood there for a moment, reeling in shock.
Show⊠you⊠off�
Did he mean�
Holy fuck.
He wanted to make videos with you!
àłàŸàż ËË-
No part 3, stop bugging me
Tag list: @teyvat-writer @tehyunnie @the-ultimate-librarian @kiiyoooo @mello-life69 @iwishtobeacrow @remdayz @ofclyde @smellwell @flurrina @tomoeroi @star-3214 @rhetorical-conscience @honey-valentin3 @byul9158 @xiaovrsven7ti @vivian-555 @huboi @a-purple-person
#bottom male reader#x male reader#sub male reader#uke male reader#male reader#gojo x male reader#gojo x you#gojo x reader#jjk x male reader#jjk gojo#mlm ns/fw
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serendipity â€ïž variety.

summary: naruto men and some of their favorite little symbols of love you give them.
wc: 1.3k
feat. gaara, yamato, kakashi
a/n: honestly, this whole thing should be classed as a ramble. sorry if it's a bit funky at times ;; just some ideas i wanted to get out hehe
GAARA
gaara loves it when you push his hair up out or his forehead so you can plant a kiss on the kanji carved there. part of him was worried itâd make you uncomfortable- like youâd be put off by the fact that he put it there himself. not once did you show any adverse reaction to the marking, the story, or the meaning. you always accepted gaara. every part of him.
âmissed you.â he hummed into the curve of your neck, holding you from behind. he had just gotten home from a drawn-out council meeting. poor boy, dealing with some of those personalities takes so much out of him. âi missed you too, cutiepie.â you always treat him like such a baby. he didn't hate the nickname, it was just so... lovey. sometimes a bit of a shock to hear. he'll admit it grew on him though. he loves whatever you call him- because it's you. âyou hungry? âs almost done.â you wiggled, trying to escape his grasp so you could stir the veggie medley you had going on the stove. he relented, steps quieting as he disappeared to shed his vest on a rack and reappeared on the other side of the island counter, pulling out a stool to settle into.
you put extra care into making his plate, loading it with some extra meat and rice. not gonna let him get by without some veggies though. you set both your plates on the counter, shuffling around to sit on gaaraâs left. he always waits.
you pull the plates towards the two of you and look to gaara with pride. âsmells good,â he hums, snaking an arm around your side to pull you into a kiss, âthank you, lovely.â you beam, cupping his cheek to pull him into one too. one on the cheek, and one on the kanji. âthank me by eating your veggies this time.â you tease.
your focus is back on the food before you can notice the blush crawling up his face.
YAMATO
yamato canât take it when youâve got your fingers in his hair. heâs like a puppy, in a way. scritches, pets, brushes, all of it has got him instantly relaxing in your arms.
âmorning, pretty lady.â you hear your husband rumble. ah, youâd fallen asleep. eyelashes flutter to find him, settling on his smooth, barely clothed figure above you, ruffling his hair with a towel. âmm. how long have you been home?â you murmur, the smell of eucalyptus and mint hitting your nose.
ânot long. wanted to shower before i cuddled up to you,â he states, that sultry smooth voice washing over you. he tosses the towel to the side and is quick to get underneath your blanket. observant, this one is. heâs already got all the lights off, doors locked, showered and clean for you. just how you like it. youâre a sensitive sleeper- and a bit of a neat freak, always chewing him out for getting his âoutside clothesâ in the bed or under a blanket.
âmm. how was today?â you murmured, voice still coated in sleep. you pulled yourself up a tad and spread your legs, coaxing him to lay his head on your chest. âfine, mostly just surveillance.â his voice vibrates into your chest, âkakashi had us swap places though- he hates paperwork. always wants to make me do it.â
you can hear his pout. he hates it too. everyone does. and there is so much of it. âmy poor baby,â you purr, pulling him further into an embrace. one hand caresses circles into his back, the other coming to rake through his hair. immediately, he sighs and the process of turning him to mush begins.
âmhmmm.â âyeah? youâre my poor baby?â âmm, sure.â âare you fallinâ asleep already?â âmmmmm⊠no.â amid your little scalp massage, your nails scratch with just the smallest bit of extra pressure, warranting a tiny cry. âwhat was that for?â he fusses. âlyinâ to me.â âmm-mm. not sleepinâ- just comfortable. missed my wife.â the sudden intimate confession makes your heart skip a beat. âhehe- i missed you too, sweetheart.â your fingers go back to combing through each damp strand, coming down to scritch his sideburns and the nape of his neck. heâs practically purring.
enough time has passed for you to assume heâs knocked out on top of you, and before sleep makes you their next victim- you curl in slightly to leave a kiss on the top of his head, running your thumb over the patch before you lay back down. before you can- hooded inky eyes look up to you expectantly. needy man. another kiss, this time on the forehead. you think youâre cute, teasing him this way. with a huff heâs lifting himself up, hovering over you to give you a short-lived kiss on the lips before heâs setting himself down, this time nestled on your shoulder.
such a pampered man. you donât mind it. his neediness was something you came so close to losing. with that thought you canât help but squeeze him closer, resting your cheek on the top of his head.
KAKASHI HATAKE
kakashi loves it when you offer to shave his face for him. when you waddle into the bathroom to brush your teeth, just to be greeted by his foamy face- the way your eyes widen with aggravation is the funniest thing to him.
âwhy didnât you ask me?â you pout, setting yourself up on the counter in front of him with a huff. âthought you were gettinâ ready for bed.â he hums smugly, relinquishing the single-blade razor to you as you grip the underside of his chin. ânot goinâ to bed without you. âs quicker when i do it for you too.â your annoyance quickly fading and being replaced by concentration. so cute, he thinks, watching your brows furrow and lips slightly part while you focus on the left side of his face.
heâs in bliss, letting you tug his jaw, chin, ear, whatever it may be, to get at every angle. getting bitched at and manhandled by your pretty little self while he gets to squeeze at your hips and butt? a dream come true.
he doesnât want it to end, heart stuttering at the feeling of you shifting beneath his grasp and the sound of the razor getting folded in on itself and set down. ânoooooâŠâ he quietly whines, reaching out for you and making the most pathetic grabby hands. grown ass man, by the way.
âquit fussing,â you giggle a bit- quit, youâre supposed to be mad at him. you grab a small washcloth from the rack of neatly folded towels, turning back to his smug little face watching your every move. so annoying, you roll your eyes. you love his attention.
you beckon him to lean over after wetting the cloth. you wipe his face with warm water so gently- like heâs gonna break underneath your touch. itâs nice. youâre gentle with him. so so gentle. âlooks good.â you hum. âalways looks good when you do it.â he hums back. âyouâve not even looked.â âdonât gotta. i know you always do good.â so cheeky. you use the hands you have on his face to turn him to the vanity mirror. âsee? jusâ like i said. always looks good.â
it really does. kakashiâs looking at himself like heâs the hottest guy heâs ever seen. honestly, he probably is. little twerp. you wonât admit it, but the praise he mumbles while he admires your work is going right to your head.
after you pat the alcohol into his skin and give him a kiss for enduring it like a âbig, strong manâ youâd coo in the most demeaning tone, youâre finally able to brush your teeth. kakashi is in heaven this entire time, unable to keep his hands off you and definitely unable to keep his eyes off.
the nighttime routine the two of you share is one of the best parts of kakashiâs day. he makes that fact known when heâs sleeping outside during a mission and wailing over the fact that his face feels dirty or dry. bless his teammates. though, itâs less the actual routine and more you being there with him during it all. taking care of him.
before you know it youâre being scooped up in his arms and lightly tossed into the bed. heâs just so full of feelings- feelings for you. others may not have guessed it (they probably have with how much he whines when he's away from you,) but this man is such a sap.
#àŒó ș.headcanons#naruto x reader#gaara x reader#gaara fluff#yamato x reader#yamato tenzo#tenzo x reader#kakashi x reader#kakashi fluff#kakashi hatake fluff#kakashi hatake x reader#naruto headcanons#naruto imagines#gaara imagines#kakashi imagine
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đđđđ¶đ đđ đđđ¶đ
rinâs routine takes a turn when a stray cat inserts itself into the equation.
itoshi rin x reader ïŸ sfw ïŸ fluff ïŸ allusions to abandonment issues
Thereâs a cat that follows Rin on his walk home from practice.
The first time, he simply took notice. A small bundle of black fur seemed to curve at every turn he made, stopping every time he paused. Its light eyes almost glowed in the darkness accompanying dusk. And, as if the creature knew it was time to part ways, it didnât bother following Rin to the door of his apartment.
The second time caught Rin by surprise. Did the stray remember him? The walk was much the same, Rin leading the way while the cat acted as his shadow. Maybe the man tricked himself into thinking so, but it felt like the cat met his eye every time he looked over his shoulder to check if it was in tow.
This time, Rin crouched down to pet it. His hand hovered tentatively over its head, waiting for some adverse reaction to his proximityâa hiss, or perhaps it would dart off. But it didnât come. He gently scratched the catâs head. It purred, leaning into his touch.
The days that followed were much the sameâRinâs initial surprise at his companionâs return, his hesitancy to reach out for fear of an unpleasant reaction, the short moment of comfort the both of them shared before Rin had to go inside. They grew on each other with each scheduled meeting. The cat began to walk closerâbeside the man instead of behind him. Rin left a little earlier in the morning to pick up treats for his new friend.
Rin has lost track of how long this has been going on. What he has taken note of, though, is how the cat no longer lingers at the start of the pathway leading to his apartmentâit has taken to joining him at the door.
Yours and Rinâs schedules donât always align the best. It makes taking advantage of the days the both of you are free a given and today happens to be one of those days. Itâs bright and early and with the bag of pastries you picked up in hand, you make your way to Rinâs apartment.
âKnock knock,â you verbalize in addition to tapping your knuckles against his door.
You only have to wait a moment before his voice sounds from the other side. âItâs open.â
With his invitation, you turn the doorknob and let yourself inside. As you kick off your shoes at the doorway, you catch sight of Rin lying on the couch. The piece of furniture isnât quite long enough given his height, so his legs are propped up on the arm. Itâs enough to make you chuckle under your breath. Rin doesnât seem to mind you finding humor in the situation. He simply offers you a lazy wave and a, âHey.â
âGood morning,â you greet him with a smile. You hold up the paper bag in your hand. âI brought breakfast.â
Rin hums in satisfaction before getting up to join you in the kitchen. Youâre just about to set everything on the counter when something beats you to the spot. Itâs black and furry and entirely unexpectedâso much so that you flinch, clutching the bag to your chest. âOh!â
You can hear Rin sigh behind you, though, when he appears beside you, he doesnât look nearly as startled as you do. He picks up what you now realize is a cat from in front of you, holding it up in the air level with his face. âI told you, youâre not allowed on the counters.â
Two pairs of eyesâone aquamarine, the other a pale greenâstare at each other in silence. Rin almost looks as if heâs expecting a response and he earns one in the form of an innocent meow.
Rinâs eyes narrow. âStay off the counters.â
âWhen did you get a cat?â You suppose you should have noticed sooner. Now that youâre paying attention, there are signs all over the placeâthe food and water bowls placed on a mat that you walked past to get into the kitchen, the cat tower tucked away in the corner of the living room just a few feet away from the couch Rin was lounging on, thereâs even a feather wand toy under the coffee table.
He finally puts the cat down on the floor. Despite being released, it doesnât wander far. âLast week. She kept following me home.â
âCuteâŠâ The thought of this darling trailing behind Rin during his commute is almost too adorable for you to handle. You kneel down to get a better look at her. Sheâs idly licking her fur like sheâs grown bored of this conversation. You look up at Rin. âWhatâs her name?â
âShe doesnât have one.â
âHuh?â You stand up once more, frowning in confusion. âHow do you get her attention then?â
He shrugs. âI donât need to. Sheâs always nearby anyway.â
He doesnât tell you that heâs pondered the idea of naming her but shied away. Itâs better this wayânot getting too attached and making things too real. Because if itâs real, that means she can leave himâcast him asideâtoo.
âShe needs a name, Rin,â you tell him, finally setting down the bag from the bakery and pulling out its contents. You shoot him a smile. âWe can come up with one while we eat.â
Movement from the corner of your eye catches your attention. Your gaze falls to the floor to find the cat rubbing against Rinâs leg.
Your smile widens. âSee, she likes the idea.â
Heâs still wary but he considers it for a moment, his stare never straying from your face. He reminds himself that youâre very realâstanding right in front of him, close enough to touch. Youâre real and youâve stuck around. That should be all the evidence he needs.
âFine,â Rin concedes.ïżœïżœ
He glances down at the cat he took in. Strangely enough, her presence since the start has had an impact on Rin, made him feel a little less lonely.
He supposes she deserves a name.
manon here ( â§áâŠ) thanks for reading! if u enjoyed, reblogs are greatly appreciated!
#scribbles á°.á#itoshi rin x reader#rin x reader#bllk x reader#blue lock x reader#rin x you#bllk x you#blue lock x you#rin fluff#bllk fluff#blue lock fluff#â blue lock.
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Happy Accident
Pairing: Congressman Bucky x pregnant!girlfriend reader
These can be read as oneshots, but if you want to read in order, check out below âŹïž
Part one | Part two | Part three
Word count: 1k
Content: fluff, surprise pregnancy, brief mentions of sex, implied sex
đ©·
Synopsis: You both thought this couldnât happen. Buckyâs girlfriend tells him the big news.
Enjoy! Iâd be happy to write more of this little storyline.
đđđđđđđđđđđđđđđđđđ
You look at the two pink lines staring up at you from the counter and feel your breath catch. Thereâs no way. Bucky said the serum took away any chance of him ever having children. You pull another test from the bottom drawer and dip it into the cup, setting it to the side and watching the liquid crawl up the test strip. One line, then another unmistakable line. Fuck. Fuck? You took your birth control pills religiously. Your period was sometimes irregular, but you just chalked it up to stress or hormones. Buckyâs campaign was relentless and stressful, so you guessed that was why you were late this time. After eight days you figured you should take a test to calm your racing mind. Pregnant? When? How? OhâŠ
Buckyâs birthday. March 10th. That was a wild night. You made sure he took the night off to celebrate with Sam and Joaquin. And you. Especially you. Bucky wasnât one to get drunk or even tipsy very easily, but that night you both had one too many celebratory drinks. One thing led to another, and things got really hot and heavy. You normally didnât use protection because of Buckyâs notion that he couldnât have kids and your birth control use. You knew birth control could fail, but you never gave it much thought because of his certainty about the serumâs adverse effects. Yet here you were⊠almost 6 weeks pregnant if your calculations were correct.
Bucky would be home any minute. Youâd left work early because you didnât feel well, and now you knew why. How were you going to tell him? Heâd worked so hard on his campaign and had enough on his plate. You look at the calendar on your phone and thank God it isnât April Foolsâ Day anymore - not the best time to tell your boyfriend youâre pregnant with his baby. You splash some water on your flushed face and try your best to calm your breathing. You canât keep this from him and know you have to tell him when he gets home. Your hand makes its way down to your lower abdomen and rests there. A small smile spreads across your lips along with a few stray tears. Buckyâs baby.
You hear the key in the front door unlock and head out to meet him. His warm smile greets you, and you immediately fall into his open arms. So safe. Your favorite place.
âHello, love,â he whispers into your hair. âHow are you feeling?â Youâd texted him earlier to let him know you were going home early because you didnât feel good. He takes your face into his hands, looking for signs of illness in your expression. If only he knew.
âOh, Iâm okay,â you reassure him. âJust a little tired.â You kiss his lips and take his work bag, placing it on the hook by the door.
âThanks, baby,â he says through your kiss. He breaks it off and looks at you again, really assessing your face. âAre you sure everything is okay? You seem off. Have you been crying?â His flesh hand traces a finger down your cheek where a trail from a tear etched its way through your makeup. âDid something happen at work?â
âNo,â you sigh, meeting his steely blue gaze.
He says your name warily. âWhat is it?â
You take him by the hand to the plush couch and sink into the corner cushion. He sits on the cushion next to you, inviting you to put your legs in his lap. He runs his fingers down your calves, giving you goosebumps. âI know you donât feel good, but you look gorgeous,â he offers with a cheeky grin. âYou have a glow about you.â
You canât help but let out a cackle at his affectionate comment. Right on target, soldier. Bucky looks at you with a puzzled expression. You take a deep breath and grab his flesh hand in both of yours.
âIâm pregnant, Bucky,â you say quietly, not breaking your gaze from his.
His left eyebrow twitches ever so slightly. âYouâre⊠pregnant?â
âYes, I took two tests today. Theyâre in the bathroom if you want to see.â
âNo, no, I believe you. I just⊠I didnât think I couldâŠâ You watch as he processes and reaches for words that arenât there. He breaks your gaze and you see his eyes turn glassy.
âBucky? Are you okay?â You move toward him. âAre you mad?â
Your last question brings him back to the present, âMad? Darling, why would I be mad?â
âWell, weâve never talked about, ya know, kids because weâve never had to,â you gesture to Bucky and the unsaid serum.
âI guess they were wrong about the side effects.â He let out a little laugh, âThis happened on the night of my birthday, didnât it?â
âOh, totally,â you giggle, reminiscing together.
âI guess the serum enhanced everything.â
âJAMES BUCHANAN BARNES!â You shout with a blush.
âIâm going to be a dad,â he whispers with a smile.
âThatâs usually how this works,â you joke.
âCâmere,â he says, pulling you into his lap. âHow are you feeling about this? Really? You can tell me anything.â
âIâm kind of scared,â you admit. âBut also excited. Are you worried about what people will think?â
âWhy would I be worried?â Bucky asks, brushing your hair behind your ears.
âYouâre a Congressman. Weâre not married. I dunno, it seems so unconventionalâŠâ you trail off.
âIâm an ex-assassin with a vibranium arm that somehow got elected to Congress. I think if people can handle that, then they can handle my beautiful, smart, incredible girlfriend having my baby.â He kisses your nose, and the reassurance makes you melt into him. You kiss him with an open mouth and he reciprocates generously, hands trailing up your shorts.
âI canât wait to see you growing with my baby,â he growls into your ear. Oh? Oh. Those pregnancy hormones are no joke.
âMmm, wanna celebrate?â You moan.
âGod, yes,â Bucky replies, loosening his tie before picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom.
đ
-the end-
Comments and reblogs are much appreciated if you liked this story :]
Check out part two here.
#bucky barnes#winter soldier#james buchanan barnes#sebastian stan#congressman barnes#thunderbolts*#thunderbolts#bucky fic#daddy bucky#bucky x female reader#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#someone had a good birthday
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With a s/o who doesnât celebrate their birthday (Luffy, Law, Corazon, Caesar)
a/n: My birthday is later this month, and I havenât celebrated it in many years. The day isnât particularly joyous for me for many reasons, so I decided to write something for myself. Idk if anyone else feels the same about their birthday but hope you enjoy this nonetheless.
CW: SFW, gn!reader, fluff, some angst, an ounce of modern au with Coraâs
Luffy
With your birthday drawing near, you were merely hoping that the day would pass without a hitch. However, it just so happened that Luffy got the idea to ask you when your birthday was.
You didnât want to lie to him, so you gave him the correct date. He looked at you, as if processing how close the day was. When it dawned on him that it was practically just around the corner, he gasped and got excited.
âWe gotta celebrate then! We can have a big cake and lots of food!â
âNo, thatâs okay.â Your refusal was kind, which meant it wasnât interpreted how you intended.
âItâs fine! Weâll get Sanji to do it!â
âNo, thatâs not what I mean,â you protested.
âHuh? Whatâs wrong?â He tilted his head to the side in interest.
âWell, I donât celebrate my birthday.â
Complete and utter shock washed over him. How could someone as amazing as you not take full advantage of one of the best days for anyone. âWhat! Why not?â He shouted.
You put your hands up to hush him, so as not to alert the others that Luffy was getting excitable. âItâs just a normal day for me. Not anything worth celebrating in that sense.â
âNot anything worthâŠâ He hopped down from the counter he was sitting on and clamped his hands on your shoulders. âYou more than anyone should be able to celebrate yourself!â
The sudden intensity in his eyes put you a bit on edge, although the passion he had in his words struck you to your core. âThank you but really. Itâs no big dealâ
Unconvinced by that, his eyes kept their hold on you. With not much else being said, he left the kitchen to join the others.
Unsure how well that actually went, you chose to brush it off.
As your birthday was coming to an end, you realized that the others were nowhere to be found. When you opened the kitchen door, you were met with a table filled with all of your favorite foods and everyone chatting and having a grand time.
âWhatâs all this?â You asked Sanji
âHm? Just thought we could indulge a little.â
Taking your seat, you soaked up the atmosphereâyour friends enjoying themselves, filling the room with laughter as you shared a meal together. You leaned over to Luffy to express your gratitude.
Even with his mouth full of food, he managed to smile just as affectionately as any other time.
Law
He was observant, which was one of the things you both loved and hated about him depending on whether you were trying to be sneaky. This time was no different; with his eyes focusing on you one too many times, you got the feeling that heâd noticed something was wrong.
âIâm fine,â you broke the silence.
âI didnât say anything.â His gaze remained fixed on you.
âBut you were thinking it.â
He inched closer trying to get a better read on you, his eyes seemingly burrowing into your soul.
âOkay, okay,â you huffed, âItâs my birthday. Itâs coming up soon and I justâŠI just donât want anyone making a big deal about it.â
As your eyes hesitantly met his, the cold stare he had had shifted into one with compassion.Â
âI can relate to that,â his words alluded to more pain than heâd probably anticipated. âSometimes itâs easier to treat it just like any other day.â
You nodded, feeling the tears build up in your eyes. Of course, you were well aware of the hardships he had to overcome. The adversities either of you faced were your own. The experiences that weighed on you in different ways and yet were still parts of each other you could easily connect with.
âWe donât have to do anything if you arenât up for it.â Even with the cool tone, the support he was giving you was unmistakable.
Having spent your birthday the way you had intended, Law approached you. Looking up at him, you gave him a meek smileâ-the conflict of not celebrating your birthday this year didnât quite sit well with you.
âI want to show you something.â Offering you his hand, his touch was tender as guided you to the deck.
Stepping outside, you were met with the Aurora Borealis. âWe were passing by at the perfect time. Thought you might like to appreciate them with me.â
With the inner-strife youâd been dealing with subsiding, you happily took a seat next to him. Gazing up at the beauty swirling in the sky, you leaned your head against his shoulder.
He rested his head against yours, adding a sincere, âHappy birthday.â
Corazon
He was one of the most attentive individuals who could pick up on how you were feeling before you yourself had even realized. As the days came and went, it became more and more obvious that something was weighing on you.
Coming over to where you were, he sat beside you. With the softness never leaving his demeanor, you couldnât help but melt from the warmth he radiated.Â
When you gave him a smile, he placed his hand on top of yours. âHow are you?â Such a simple question yet one that held vague concern.
âIâm alright,â you chuckled. âDonât I look like it?â Even your playfulness seemed to be a front you were putting up.
He hesitated, taking a moment to notice the subtleties in your voice and expression. âNo,â he spoke with sincerity.Â
Breaking eye contact, you looked down at your fingers laced with his. âMy birthday is coming up, and Iâm not quite sure how I feel about it.â
He watched your fingers trace his hand before bringing them to his lips. âI can sympathize with that.â With his eyes meeting yours again, he led the conversation with his heart. âBut you of all people deserve to feel special on their birthday.â
âYou always know how to pull at my heartstrings.â The smile you wore trembled as your chest swelled with a heaviness.
âAw, I didnât mean to upset you!â He pulled you in for a hug.
Holding you closely, he made a suggestion, âWe donât have to have a formal celebration, but what about getting something to eat? Just the two of us?â
âIâd like that.â
When the day came, Rosinante drove the both of you to a secluded spot on top of a hill. Turning to smile at you, you wondered if this was the spot.
âOh, yeah, this is it!â While he took the glasses and packed food from the back seat, he pointed to the treetops. âWhen the sun sets, the light peeks through those trees just perfectly enough to shine on the water, making it look like itâs sparkling.â
When he handed you some of the food, you smiled as you pressed it against your lips.Â
As the sun set and the water resembled crystals, you allowed yourself to appreciate how special this day could be.Â
âThank you,â you whispered.
Caesar
Humble and wanting to remain out of the spotlight: ways one could never use to describe him. He took full advantage of his special day, wanting to be the main character. After being his other half for a few months and celebrating his birthday, it got him wondering.
âI donât believe youâve ever told me when your birthday is.â The careful phrasing was intentionalâpurposefully pushing off any blame for not asking sooner.
âI havenât,â your tone was just slightly indifferent towards the topic but was light-hearted enough not to be mistaken as taking offense. âItâs in two weeks.â
He blinked at you, not fully understanding why you hadnât brought it up sooner, why he had to be the one to ask. âWhy didnât you mention it sooner?â
You shrugged, delivering the answer in a cool tone, âIt doesnât hold many fond memories. Itâs just another day for me.â
It was absolutely ludicrous to hear you say that. The one most suited to stand by his side not allowing themselves the proper celebration they clearly deserved had him stumped.
He chose not to pry, instead thinking of little ways he could help you feel special on your day. He easily gathered tidbits of information to make this coming birthday one you could look back on with fondness.
While that day began like any other, Caesar was finishing the small preparations to surprise you. When you finished your work, he went to collect you, guiding you to the kitchen.
âAh!â He feigned irritation. âThose idiots made such a mess. Wait here.â He turned the corner, shuffling about the kitchen.Â
When the lights turned off, you called out to him. Peering behind the corner, you stood there for a moment before you saw a faint glow coming from behind the counter.
âWhatâs this?â Your heartbeat quickened from the hope that heâd planned something for you.
âI know that you donât quite like your birthday, but thereâs no harm in having cake now, is there?â
There was a faint tightness in your chest from the sweet sentiment. As you came closer, you noticed that it was your favorite flavor. With the soft glow of the candles flickering on top of his unusually kind gesture, you looked up to see him smilingânervously awaiting your reaction.
âNo harm at all.â Although your smile was weak, the emotion held in your voice and the affection in your eyes spoke volumes. âThank you, Caesar.âÂ
The heartfelt appreciation made him giddy with joy as you happily blew out the candles.
#one piece#x reader#one piece x reader#one piece imagine#op#one piece x you#caesar clown#op x reader#op x you#monkey d. luffy#luffy x reader#luffy#luffy x you#trafalgar law#law x reader#law x you#corazon#corazon x reader#corazon x you#rosinante#rosinante donquixote#rosinante x reader#rosinante x you#caesar x reader#caesar clown x reader#one piece caesar clown#one piece fluff
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decisions
luke castellan x child of hecate!reader
requested: yep! I hope you like it anon
warnings: allusions about death, but no character dies.
content: yall, it's 1 am rn, and I just wanna go to sleep. it's unedited and nothing bad happens I promise. I'll do a proper content thingy in the morning. pls enjoy while I pass out.


"you know those kids are probably gonna have nightmares for at least a week, right?"
you didn't need to turn to know who was behind you as you leaned against a tree trunk, toying with a twig in your hands. Luke castellan seemed to have an affinity for interrupting you anytime you found solace in being alone. you didnt know how he just... knew, when and where to find you during times like these, but he always did. you found yourself minding his presence less and less as time when on.
"they should consider themselves lucky, I was debating whether or not I should just summon a ghost for them tonight, but I figured they couldn't handle it, and this camp doesn't have any trauma counselling so." the leaves on the twig in your hand withered at an accelerated place in your hands, and a part of you felt bad. you usually kept your distance from anything living since you knew your touch had the possibility of having an adverse, and sometimes deadly affect, but tonight was just one of those nights.
Luke chuckled at your words, plucking one of the now wilted leaves from the twig in your grasp as he spoke up once more. "you know, I actually want you to help me with something, if you don't mind. I need help deciding whether or not I should do something."
you rolled your eyes, giving him a pointed look. "you know I can't make decisions for you. I don't have the ability to know what consequences you'll have to deal with."
"isn't hacate the goddess of crossroads?" Luke countered, a small smirk on his face. you knew that he was only pestering you because he thought it was funny that you always needed to explain your abilities and your godparent to people, but you couldn't just keep silent at his bait nonetheless.
"that doesn't make me some kind of fortune teller, I can't decide for you which direction to go to when you reach a fork on the path. I just have a vague understanding over what you're currently debating if you should do."
"okay okay, no fortune telling. but can you at least point me in the right direction? it doesn't matter how vague." he asked, and you tilted your head to stare up at the starry sky, because you knew that even in the dark, Luke could convince you to help him with nothing but a pleading glint in his deep eyes.
he didn't relent at tour silence or your avoidance of his gaze, uttering a small "please?" which finally broke your resolve.
you took a deep breath, finally looking at him once again, your face deep in concentration. "not a guide either. but I get the sense that... if you don't do what you're thinking of doing, you'll regret it." you felt a bit lightheaded afterwards, but the tree you were leaning against was enough security for you.
Luke on the other hand didnt seem to think so, showcased by how his hands immediately went to your shoulders in an effort to keep you up, while also unintentionally coming closer. a bit too close for comfort, but you were too foggy for the lack of distance to hit you yet.
he nodded at your advice, biting his lip before speaking once again, not missing the way your eyes flicked towards his lips and then back to his eyes, almost instantaneously.
"then I'll just go ahead and say it, I like you. a lot." he had expected a few different reactions, you immediately jumping into his arms and accepting his confession (his personal favourite hypothesis), you shyly stating that you felt the same way, you being shocked that he had feelings for you at all (he liked to believe that he wasn't entirely obvious) but he didn't expect what you did next.
instead, you blew air from your nose, giving him a look he couldn't quite place. "you have horrible taste. and you're also delusional. we've had maybe 4 conversations the entire we've known each other, and you like me?" you rolled your eyes, shaking your head at the words you were about to utter. "but I guess that makes me delusional too, because I feel the same way."
he pouted at your words, feigning hurt with a hand placed on his chest. "you wound me. if I had known you were gonna be this mean... I would've confessed sooner." he added with a slight smirk, trailing his other hand from your shoulder down to your waist, leaning his face towards yours.
you were quick to shut down his advance, maneuvering your way out of his hold. "one thing you're gonna need to get used to, castellan. no touching. at all. at least, not until I'm sure I can control my ability. you have a goodnight though." you called out as you walked away from a now needy Luke, leaving him leaning against the tree.
he quickly followed after you, trying to plead his case. "no touching? that's insane, how could I not touch you? I'm not afraid of death, especially if it comes from my hands on your body, or vice versa. I'll happily forfeit my life for a kiss. come on, I'm fine with just a peck. actually, no. I take that back. if I'm gonna die, we need to make out before I go."
you simply shook your head, reiterating your rule, unable to stop a grin from forming on your face. you stopped abruptly, turning to face him with a serious look in your eyes. "... okay. but just a peck. im serious."
it was not just a peck. but luckily, Luke made it out alive. (though, he seriously wouldn't have minded if he didn't.)
#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan pjo#luke castellan fanfiction#pjo x reader#pjo tv show#pjo series#pjo#percy series#percy jackson and the olympians#luke castellan fluff#luke castellan fic#luke castellan smut#luke castellan x you#luke castellan apologist#luke castellan angst
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Can we acknowledge how tragic of a detail this is? In ch114?

The fact that Teru views Kunishige (shrine grandpa) as the only one he can rely on despite how their relationship is at-best frenemies and at-worst hostile is downright devastating.
Reason #1: Teru and Kunishigeâs relationship is predominantly negative.
In ch79, gramps was making jokes about threatening Teruâs livelihood and while Teru later joined in to counter, the comment was clearly in bad faith â an attempted power play to exert control over Teru and his flippant behavior. Itâs a baseless threat stuffed within the carcass of a joke: âyour family needs us â show respect.â Teruâs an instigator for sure, but heâs not the adult in this situation.

Point #2: Kunishige has done little to deserve Teruâs faith as an individual.
Shrine politics aside, gramps was beefing with a teenager and snitches on him to his dad! He pulled the âIâm telling Dad on youâ with Teruâs OWN FATHER pushing 90 â like DAWG.

I donât fault gramps for reporting the Red House incident given his past experiences or its history, but it was the professional choice â not the kind one. It doesnât indicate any affection towards Teru nor resemble how you would treat a child you would go out of your way to support. Teru clearly has an adverse reaction to his father. Heâs off-put by the idea of contacting him in ch79 and canonically views his father as absent and not someone he can expect help from in ch114. Not over Kunishige at least.
Yeah, gramps puts on the Santa suit per Teruâs request. That in itself is an undeniable act of kindness. He does care and I donât doubt that he is there for Teru. But itâs not enough to deny this fact:

Conclusion: The only person (and adult) Teru feels he can rely on doesnât treat him very well and wonât protect him from his father if it meant going against his shrine duties. A bottom of the barrel choice because it becomes unnervingly evident this child, Teru, as early as 14, grew up having no one else. He chooses Kunishige over his own father, family members, friends, teachers â everyone.
And Kunishige doesnât even like him.
#tbhk#toilet bound hanako kun#jshk#jibaku shounen hanako kun#tbhk character analysis#tbhk ch114#teru minamoto#my tofu analysis#makes you wonder what kind of shit adults Teru had in his life if Kunishige is the best#teruâs dad just has to be ass#teru puts kunishige over everyone#over akane#thatâs insane#at least according to this translation#his volatile relationship with gramps has to be part of the reason teru thinks bullying is affection#teru minamoto the ash of the fire that is your tragedy leaves your every word singed#characters whose suffering is less evident on top
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When Simon Bogemannâs hand began cramping around the steering wheel in a claw position on his commute from Geelong to Melbourne, he began to worry.
Bogemann, then 43, was also getting pins and needles in his feet and fingers every night in bed, and while sitting down during short lunch breaks at work.
His GP put it down to a lack of magnesium and recommended a supplement, in addition to the multivitamin he was taking for a chronic condition.
Bogemann was unaware that both capsules contained added vitamin B6, too much of which could lead to the symptoms he was experiencing â a type of nerve damage known as peripheral neuropathy.
The wellness industryâs marketing of over-the-counter vitamins is leading to an increase in the number of people presenting with peripheral neuropathy linked to excessive vitamin B6 in their blood, Australiaâs peak body for pathologists has warned.
Dr David Kanowski, a chemical pathologist at Sullivan Nicolaides Pathology in Brisbane, says most people are unaware they are consuming too much of the vitamin.
Bogemann certainly had no idea: âYou buy an over-the-counter supplement, you just think that itâs going to be good for you, not bad for you.â
He says it has been a challenge to change his multivitamin to a product without B6.
âOne thing that I have learned is that B6 seems to be added, for some reason, to a lot of over-the-counter supplements.â
It is also in some energy drinks, breakfast cereals, and protein and weight loss shakes.
Magnesium tablets, commonly recommended for cramp relief, often contain B6 because it can assist magnesium absorption. But a person who takes two magnesium tablets a day could consume more than 120mg of B6, far exceeding the recommended dietary intake for adults in Australia of 1.3mg to 2mg a day.
It was previously believed that peripheral neuropathy was caused by doses of hundreds of milligrams taken over periods of 12 months or more but cases have been known to occur at levels as low as 21mg.
The initial symptoms include numbness and pins and needles in the feet, which can spread up the legs. Muscle cramps and pain may be felt in the arms and hands.
In 2020 the Therapeutic Goods Administration released a safety advisory warning. Two years later, still concerned about a lack of awareness, the TGA lowered the limit at which products must display a warning label, from 50mg of B6 down to 10mg â and banned products with more than 100mg.skip past newsletter promotion
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Nevertheless, cases have continued to rise. Between January 2020 and October 2024 the TGA received 81 adverse event reports of peripheral neuropathy associated with medicines containing a vitamin B6 ingredient, with most of them reported in the past two years.
Kanowski says advertising on social and other media promotes the idea that taking more vitamins is good for health.
âItâs understood that if you want to counteract bad habits, like smoking or drinking too much, perhaps that can be counterbalanced with vitamins,â he says.
Kanowski says the TGA has been âfairly hands offâ unless toxins are in a product.
Fiona Sammut, a dietitian based in Victoria, says itâs a big ask to expect consumers to read and interpret âtiny fontâ disclaimers and formulations.
People who see claims that vitamins will âboost their energyâ may take several supplements thinking they are harmless, she says.
While foods are commonly fortified with vitamins for âspecific evidence-based reasonsâ, such as vitamin B1 fortified bread, Sammut says thereâs no similar reason for B6 fortification because there isnât a high incidence of vitamin B6 deficiency.
Most people get enough B6 in their diets from foods including fish, non-citrus fruits and starchy vegetables, and high intakes of B6 from natural food sources have not been reported to cause adverse effects.
Sarah* had symptoms of peripheral neuropathy for years, but ânever thought anything of itâ, because she assumed they were related to her Crohnâs disease.
In hindsight, she says, the symptoms began about a year after she began taking a multivitamin that contained 60mg of B6 after weight loss surgery in 2011, in addition to the magnesium which contained 82mg she had been taking for years due to cramps in her legs.
She had been having yearly blood tests at her dieticianâs recommendations but it was only in late 2021 that the pathology lab tested for B6 levels and found they were 15 times higher than the recommended range.
In most cases, once B6 levels return to normal, peripheral neuropathy will slowly improve within six to 12 months but in some severe cases it can be irreversible.
Prof Matthew Kiernan, the chief executive of Neuroscience Australia, has described a case he saw in his clinical practice of a 40-year-old patient who was worried he had motor neurone disease before the doctor linked the gym enthusiastâs symptoms to excessive vitamin B6 intake from the supplements he consumed as part of his fitness program.
Kiernan, who diagnosed more patients with peripheral neuropathy after his article on the case was published in the Medical Journal of Australia, believes there should be limits on the number of supplements people can buy because they are unnecessary for people eating a balanced diet.
âNone of this is policed,â he says. âSo, if you go down to the chemist and go down the vitamin aisle, theyâre all there. You can get a whole shopping trolley full of them.â
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Strap in if you dare, Iâm going to talk about Riko.
Yes, he is a Bad Person. Nothing Iâm about to say counters that. However⊠evil isnât always so obvious as to dress in black and torture everyone you love. Evil is insidious and nuanced - it can creep in when you arenât expecting it and have no defences. Weâve been given this incredibly complex and interesting example of it, and weâve been given it for a reason. Riko is a character worth trying to understand.
Could Riko ever have been saved, and if so what would it have taken? What if heâd been able to follow the Fox path to redemption instead of the Ravens to perdition?
Except both Foxes AND Ravens were traumatised⊠the thing that ruined Riko was power. Lincoln said it: ânearly all men can stand adversity but if you want to test a manâs character, give him power.â Who was Riko without power? Itâs hard to see.
So Iâm fascinated by a different question - how did Riko see Riko?
We know how the Foxes saw him: a low-functioning sociopath with zero coping skills and the personality of a cat trapped in a wall cavity. Presumably thatâs not how he saw himself. What kind of headcanon did he construct for himself, what was his own personal mythology?
We know he wanted his fatherâs approval, he wanted to be number one. We know how badly he dealt with those desires being thwarted.
I know how it feels to be an abandoned child. You feel like the outer edges of a person, with this gaping hole in the centre. Itâs not just that you lost a loved one, itâs - how can I say it - itâs like the clasp that lets you hold on to people has been torn out too. Everyone will leave now, and you know it.
(I didnât cope by turning my bedroom into Abu Ghraib, though.)
Itâs the worst of both worlds. His father is far enough away to cause that gaping wound, yet not sufficiently gone for it to ever close over and heal.
But⊠despite his impossible situation, Riko wasnât withdrawing into himself. Resentment ate away at him and he liked doing side-projects of revenge, but it was hope driving him on. I see Riko as someone with a very hot flame in them, someone determined to succeed (like Neil). He was driven, even if the goal he chased so eagerly was an illusion. I think he saw his situation as a challenge, an opportunity to prove himself and eventually take his rightful place at his fatherâs side (surely thatâs what Kengo really meant, surely this was a test, a test he can pass if he just wins one more time...)
Imagine something like⊠the second son of a Roman emperor, sent to some far-off outpost to get him out of the way subdue rebel tribes. A chance to make a name for himself, an opportunity to create an elite unit where violence and skill are everything, where winning is everything. A challenge he accepts with savage excitement.
And the world views them with the kind of awe once reserved for ancient Sparta. Unsurpassed warriors, impossibly focussed. Yes, they endure conditions no one else could even consider but they always win, and everyone loves winners. They are the legends of legends. Surely his father will see.
Kevin was his Lancelot, his shining sword, his right hand. Kevin added to Rikoâs status, assured him he must be a hero if he had such a splendid champion at his side.
But Kevin is beautiful, so perhaps Rikoâs feelings were more complicated than that, perhaps they were feelings he couldnât admit he had. He could still work those feelings into the overall picture though⊠itâs all part of Kevin being his beloved champion.
Until the champion started edging him out of his own story and had to be sacrificed. A necessary sacrifice, but losing Kevin struck a huge blow to the mythology Riko built up about himself. He could no longer look in the mirror, side by side, and see Kevinâs glory (and, yes, Kevinâs dad) reflected back as though it belonged to him too.
Despite this Riko finds a way to keep winning, even without his champion. Surely that is even more impressive? Can his father see that?
Still no response. In the story Riko constructs for himself his father does no wrong, so this towering rage he feels has to crash down on someone else. He tells himself he is punishing his troops for daring to be unworthy.
Then there is Jean, someone from a caste so low as to be unclean, even subnormal, someone it would hurt Rikoâs prestige to treat with any kind of respect. But Jean is also beautiful, and those feelings canât be worked into the myth. Their outlet is the darkness behind closed doors, along with all the other feelings that donât fit the story of the hero.
Harming his people, his intimate possessions, was Rikoâs coping mechanism for rejection and humiliation the way self-harm in many forms is to many others. (Are you hearing me if I say hurting yourself is hurting your own Perfect Court, and there is collateral damage even if you think itâs just you, because people love you and suffer because of it? Are you hearing me if I say stop being Riko to yourself?)
And maybe his enjoyment of that cruelty was, deep down, a form of denial that the cruelty arose from anguish. âNo Iâm not upset, Iâm not a loser, Iâm in control, Iâm doing this because I like itâŠâ Maybe even to the point where rendition becomes sexual.
But itâs starting to unravel. Heâs lost his only friend and can no longer unleash his mounting frustrations on Jean the way he wants to; heâs running out of pieces for his board.
Then he finds the fugitive his family were chasing for so long. This is his big chance. Heâll have a brand new champion for his stable or a valuable offering to please his father, he wins either way.
He captures this feral child who tells him there is no empty throne waiting by the side of the emperor, Kengo never mentions his sonâs name, Riko is nothing more than a joke in that far-off capital. So much scorn in those words that the carefully constructed mythology withers before it.
First the would-be rook took the queen, then the wild-card knight escapes again, and now the whipping boy / concubine / bishop is taken by a girl with a cross around her neck. The king has lost all his men⊠because thatâs your REAL story, isnât it: everyone leaves you.
And then⊠Kengo dies.
Yes, Riko is a Bad Person. No, I do not like him. But Nora gave us two boys who met their brother for the first time, two boys who cried out their brotherâs name only to see their hopes shattered. And in that moment they were one, so I cannot dismiss this monstrous, horrible abomination no matter how hard I try.
I can however dismiss anyone who says Nora is not a goddess of writing.
#zankoku na tenshi no yo ni...#my complicated thoughts about the perfect court#aftg#all for the game#the foxhole court#aftg tsc#tfc#tkm#trk#tsc#the sunshine court#riko moriyama#kevin day#ichirou moriyama#the perfect court
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Blood Orange (Ch 1: The Walk-In)
Carmy Berzatto x Reader (R18)
Rating: E (7.3k words)
links: fic playlist, pinterest board, ao3 link, ch 2
Summary: Losing your job is the worst thing to ever happen to you. Getting hired by Carmen Berzatto is a close second. You tell yourself that The Beef is only temporary, that it's just a replacement until you find something better. It doesn't work. You've stopped listening. You've had a taste of Carmy, and now you don't think you're ever gonna be able to let go. No matter how bad it gets.Â
Content Tags: secret workplace relationship/sex, friends/coworkers with benefits, they/them afab reader, miscommunication, mental illness (carmy and reader), dom/sub dynamics, dom carmy (for now), enemies to friends to lovers (eventually), unhealthy coping mechanisms, dysfunctional relationship
A/N: It's finally here! New series! We even get sex in the first chapter! In my other fic, I'm taking care of Carmy. In this one, I'm making him worse. Of course, here's a disclaimer that I DONâT condone or intend to glorify any of this behavior. It's just compelling to write. Enjoy!
You return to The Beef for the first time in years when you're at your lowest.
The only upside to this abysmal situation is that the job was shitty. The job you just got laid off from, to be exact. Retail was never your passion, and there's a certain relief in knowing you don't have to go back to that windowless place. You didn't play an important role in the ecosystem, but it played a pretty crucial role in yours. It kept a roof over your head.
You're sure you couldâve sued them in some fashion for letting you go without any warning, any parachute, but you didn't have the luxury of time. You needed to figure out how you were going to pay rent, and fast.
After the rage boiled over (not to say that it's resolved, the residual anger's leveled into an even simmer), you pulled your hair back, found your cleanest, nicest outfit, and started your job search. With your updated resume in hand and scuffed sneakers on your feet, you've trekked all over Chicago looking for a new job. You weren't optimistic, nor were you hopeful.Â
You suppose the only word you could use to describe yourself was desperate, and it was a matter of finding someone that was just as desperate, if not more desperate than you. To put it politely, the odds of that were low. Very low.Â
You got laid off that very morning. The rest of your afternoon has been spent walking from door to door to every establishment you could spot. By some cruel twist of fate, none of them were hiring. The ones that were hiring looked unenthusiastic, even adverse to taking your resume.Â
âWhen would you be able to start?â Some of the workers asked.Â
âTomorrow,â was your desperately honest answer.Â
âIf all goes well, you'll hear from us in a week,â was their response. The unspoken was, of course, the fact that radio silence was more likely than an email or phone call. Places didn't even send rejection letters anymore.Â
âThanks for your time,â you'd say, bringing out a bright smile from a complete lack of reserves, and as soon as you turned around, your face would drop.Â
Your hopes were low, nearly non-existent, but damn. Damn. It wasn't looking good for you.
That's why you enter The Beef. You vaguely remember visiting this place a couple years ago, back when you first moved to Chicago. The owner wasâŠpretty nice, actually. You don't remember his name, but you remember having a pleasant conversation with him. Of course, there's nothing you can do if he doesn't have a job opening, but it wouldn't be bad to see a friendly face. Even if that face is from someone who's basically a stranger.Â
The doorbell rings when you enter. It catches the attention of the man standing behind the counter, and with how his head jolts up, you'd think the bell functioned as an alarm instead.Â
âWelcome,â he says. Your first impression, other than the fact that he seems very, very, tired, is that he's irritatingly attractive. If anything, the eyebags and the greased back waves only add to whatever the hell he's got going on.Â
âHi. UmâŠâ You're briefly caught off guard by his biceps, but you catch yourself. âI was actually wondering if you guys were hiring.â
âWe are,â he replies, and it's the best thing you've heard all day. He lights up like the spark of a lighter, bright and instantaneous. It doesn't shake the pervasive exhaustion that radiates off him, though.Â
âThank god,â you mutter, and you want to take it back (it's far too casual), but he cracks an amused smile that makes you want to dissolve like a pinch of salt in a sea of sauce. âSorry. Do you mind if I talk to the owner? We met a while ago, andââ
âI'm the owner,â he interrupts, and any other words you had planned fall away.
âSorry?â You repeat. âI swear it was this guyâhe had short dark hair, I thinkââ
âYeah, he left the place to me. Didn't want it anymore, so.â He shrugs. The light you just saw from him has fizzled away like the end of a sparkler, short-lived and ultimately disappointing.Â
âOh. Got it. UhâŠâ To your credit, you don't fumble for too long. You have a lot of questions, but you've got more pressing issues. You pluck out a resume from a file folder. âHere's my resume, then.â
He takes it from you, flips it to face him. He's quiet as his eyes lower down the page, and you wonder if it's going to be a guillotine or a pot of gold at the end of this. The only sounds in the entrance are the passing cars outside, the rickety air conditioning, and muffled chatter from the back.Â
âYou worked as a prep cook.â He says it like a fact, but you know it's a question.Â
âYeah, nothing fancy. Just at some chain restaurants.â
âRight. I see you worked as a line cook at another location. Which one did you prefer?â
âUhâŠâ They both came with their separate pains. Your honest answer is that being a line cook was one of the most stressful experiences of your life, but if he has a position open as a line cook, you don't want to fuck it up. âThey were both fine. I think I was a little better as a prep cook, but I didn't mind either.â
He hums, satisfied by your answer. At least itâs only half of a lie.                                                                                                                   Â
âHow do you work under pressure?â
âGood,â you answer quickly. âWell enough.â
âWilling to learn?â
âObviously. I meanâŠâ You think you see a flash of a smile, but you're unsure. âYeah.â
âWhen'd you be able to start?â You're surprised he's already asking this.
âTomorrow,â you say, just like youâve been, and his reaction is different from the others. He nods. He doesn't smile, not like he did earlier, but you can tell this is a good sign.Â
Before he can get a word out, there's a sharp, metallic explosion of noises that resounds from the direction of the kitchen.Â
âUh,â he starts, eyebrows pinched in irritation, the voices come in.Â
âI told you, you have to say behind!â A woman's voice. She sounds young, but there's no real way to be sure of that.
âHow the hell did you not hear me coming?â A Chicago accent, male. Older, maybe. âI was in the middle of having a conversation with Tinaââ
âGreat, I'm so happy for you, I don't give a shit, now this has all went to wasteââ
âWell, who's fault is that?â
âWho's fault is that? You did not justââ
âGuys!â The man you've been talking to gives you an apologetic glance before walking to the back, pushing through the folding doors. You catch a glimpse of the two people arguing on the other side before it shuts. âI'm tryinâ to talk to a new hire here. We can't be like this right now. Not ever, but especially right now.â
Finally, the first sane person I've met all day, you think.Â
âCarmy, talk some sense into her,â the older guy shouts, and it gives you a name to the face. âAll of this on the floorââ
âYou didn't say behind,â the woman repeats, except with more fury in it this time.
âYou didn't say behind,â he imitates back. âCarmyââ
âSheâs right. Richie, step out,â Carmy says. âSyd, you clean this up.â
âButââ You hear her start to protest.Â
âYou spilled it, you clean it,â he cuts through, decisive and firm.
âI know, but Richieââ
âClean it,â he repeats, firmer, darker this time, and there's a beat of silence.Â
â...Yes, chef.â
âI told you to step out,â Carmy tells who you assume is Richie.Â
âYou're just gonna let herââ
âStep the fuck outside right fucking now!â Carmy screams, his patience shooting away like a gunshot. You feel something shrivel inside you, and not in a good way. âDo the one fucking thing you're good at and get out of the fucking way!â
YeahâŠdefinitely not in a good way.
From what you hear, it sounds like Richie has to get wrestled outside by someone, whom you're not sure. After another minute, Carmy returns to the front.Â
âI'm sorry about that. Fuckingââ He drags a hand across his face. You swear his eyebags have grown heavier in the 5 minutes he was in the kitchen. âWhat was I saying?â
âUm, I was saying that I could start tomorrow,â you remind him, although the vigor you had just stated it with is a bit fizzled out.Â
âRight. Okay. Uhââ He pats his hands on his apron, searching for something. A pen and paper appear in his hands, and he scribbles something on it. This is when you notice his tattoos. A flower on the back of his hand. Surprising. âYou're hired. Here's the paperwork you need to fill out, along with the number and email you'll be hearing from me at.â
âWhat?â You take the sheets, but the smooth paper doesn't feel real in your hands. His handwriting is hasty and dark, like he was running out of time on a test. âI mean, I'm just surprised.â
âDo you not want it?â
âI want it,â you promise, and you feel your cheeks flush. This is a bad time to yet again notice how attractive he is. His pretty eyes, his nose. The little moles under his left eye. âY-Yeah, I want the job.â
âGood.â He motions towards the sticky note again. âCome in at 8 am tomorrow. You'll be starting as a prep cook, which you've done before.â
âOkay. Okay, yeah, I'll be there.â The reality is setting in now, and an odd cocktail of relief, apprehension, and excitement is settling in your stomach. âThank you so much.â I just got laid off from my job this morning, so this means a lot, you want to say, but it's too soon. You don't want to say anything that'll make him change his mind about whatever he sees in you.Â
âThank you,â he echoes back. âWe need the help. I'll see you tomorrow.â
âSee you,â you reply, and with that, the door rings behind you. A customer comes up to the counter, peering up at the menu. You figure this is your cue to leave. He's not looking at you anymore anyway.Â
So, I got a job now, you update your friends, texting them on your way home on the metro. As the relieved congratulations come flying in, another remark seems to resound amongst all of them.Â
I can't believe you got the job just like that. That place must be desperate, too, is roughly what they've all said. The thing is, they're not wrong.Â
You managed to find someone more desperate than you in the job economy. Just one, but that was enough. It makes you think, though. You think about Carmy's weary blue eyes, his brief smile, and his hand tattoos. You wonder if it's just the restaurant that gives him that bone-deep exhaustion, or if it's a smaller part of a bigger picture.Â
You think about it for the rest of your commute, you think about it as you smoke on the porch, you think about it as you lay in bed. You think about it as you fill out the paperwork, fingers tracing where Carmy's written his name, number, and email.
Carmen Berzatto
773-555-0901
So Carmy's a nickname, you think. Not about what type of boss he's going to be, not about what it's going to be like working under someone you are obviously attracted to.Â
Maybe you should be more worried about this.
If it's bad, I'll just find another job, you tell yourself, and you foolishly believe it.
. . . . .
Your first day on the job starts with introductions.Â
At least, that's about as much as you've figured out so far. When he sees you upon arrival, he pauses and stares at you like he's forgotten. Not a great start. Granted, he does snap out of it. That's when he tells you to follow him, which is where you currently find yourself. You're not sure where he's leading to, only that he's introducing you to others as you pass them by.
âTheyâre working with us starting today,â Carmy tells everyone. âTheyâre gonna be on prep.â
Right. So that's what you'll be doing. At least he told you that much yesterday.
The catalog of coworkers expands exponentially. You remember Sydney from yesterday, and to her credit, she apologizes about having you witness her fight with Richie, who conveniently isn't here yet. She seems the nicest out of all the bunch, so you decide to let it slide.Â
Marcus is pretty nice, too. So are Ebra, Sweeps, Manny, Angelâeveryone seems to be pretty alright. Itâs obvious theyâre standoffish by you being in their space. You find it hard to hold it against them. Youâre not really sure how your relationships with them are going to pan out. There are only three that youâre particularly unsure on.
The first and obvious one is Richie. He came in eventually and didnât give you the best impression, immediately talking over everyone and oozing arrogance. The only salvageable thing is that heâs not even a chef. At least you wonât have to be in the kitchen with him much. You want to avoid the honor of talking to him as much as possible.
Tina is next. She clearly doesnât enjoy having someone new in the ecosystem, and sheâs spent more time ignoring you than talking with you. As you understand it, sheâs close to the rest of the staff since theyâve all been together for a while. Minus you and Syd, as you learn sheâs only been there for a week. You think Tina will warm up to youâŠeventually.
Carmy is the last one, and heâsâŠheâsâŠ
Heâs something else.
He has you doing prep for most of the day. After introducing you to everyone and giving you a brief tour, he brings you to your station, scratched up stainless steel.
âYouâre going to be cutting onions and carrots today for the stock. The vegetables are in the walk-in I showed you earlier, and when itâs done, it goes on the first shelf.â Carmyâs to your right, set up at his own station. You swear you keep your eyes focused on the vegetables, not his biceps in that shirt, but⊠âYou should already know this, but label everything. I donât want to see anything without a date. Got it?â
âYes, chef,â you confirm, snapping out of it. Heâs been flinging new information at you like itâs a war and heâs gunning to survive. But so are you. âIâll do my best.â
âI expect as such.â He slides over a peeler for the carrots and some plastic bins for trash. âItâs just a stock, so donât worry about an even cut. Just salvage whatever you can, cut off anything that doesnât look good.â You nod. âBeen a year or so since you did this, right?â
âYeah. I cook regularly, but Iâll need to get back into the groove of things. And I will,â you add hastily. âIâll combine them into this one when I'm done, right?â You ask, nudging a large plastic container.Â
âCorrect.â A brief smile flashes across his face. âYou're already following quicker than I thought you would.â Youâre not sure if he means it as an insult or a compliment, so you decide to take it as the latter.Â
âI haven't even chopped anything yet.â
âI know.â His expression is flat again. You resist a laugh. He plucks an onion from the bin, puts it in front of you. âShow me a rough dice.â
The knife is sharp. You notice this as you place careful cuts into the onion. It's not quite as sharp as his unnerving gaze, which layers pressure upon pressure. It builds up like a pastry puff, thin multitudes of layers expanding upward. You need to be good. You need to be perfect. You don't want to disappoint him, not this early, even though you've barely been here for an hour.Â
It's just a shitty old sandwich shop, you tell yourself, but your dicing is uneven and you briefly think about accidentally chopping your fingers off.Â
âNot my best work,â you admit, vaguely breathless. Carmy hasn't said anything yet.
âIt'll do.â You're waiting for him to say something else, give you some tips, but he doesn't. Irritation prickles to the tips of your fingers. âI'll be back to check in on you later.â
You stand there, motionless and shocked in the aftermath. You're not sure what you expected from today, but being abandoned an hour in was not at the top of your bucket list.Â
Man, what the fuck, you think, the thought clear in the silence around you, and that's the last time you can hear yourself think for the rest of the shift.Â
There's a prepared stock from yesterday simmering on the stove behind you. It's flanked by boiling potatoes and reducing tomato sauce. The heat from itâs searing your back like a steak, slowly drawing lines of moisture all over the surface of your shirt. Your coworkers constantly invade your space to check on them. You suppose it's not their fault that the kitchen, but it's still irritating. They're also all shouting over each other like it's a competition.
âWho the fuck touched my stockââ
âNo one touched your stupid shitty stockââ
âI am trying to find this cutting board, will someone pleaseââ
You move on from the onions with only a thin layer of sweat collected at your hairline.Â
Your hands are shaky as they peel the carrots. You know you're not getting as efficient of a shave as you could be, but the caffeine crash from your morning coffee is getting to you. You don't remember the last time you drank water. A cigarette sounds nice.Â
âClean your station, chef.â Carmy materializes next to you. You hear him before you see his hands scooping carrot shavings into a plastic container. It shocks you so much that you almost cut yourself.Â
âSorry, chef,â you reply reflexively. You look down at your station, straightening your tools. You want to ask if you can take your break, but you don't want to look any weaker than you do already. âSo, uh, do we get 30's here?â
When you don't get a response, your head snaps up, irritation on the tip of your tongue, but he's not even there.Â
Fucking hell, you think, annoyance simmering into something akin to anger, and you go back to finishing your prep.Â
You don't see him for another hour after that. It's not even him that tells you to take your 15, it's Syd, who noticed you were half-way through your shift and on the verge ofâŠsomething.Â
âYou finished the prep he gave you, right?â Syd had asked. You told her you finished and put it back in the walk-in. âYeah, then go take your break. Did he not tell you we get 15's here?â
âHe didn't,â you say, too annoyed to bother hiding the disdain in your face. Sydney just sighs, rolling her eyes, and you think you love her.Â
âAsshole.â She makes a shooing motion at you then. âGo, get a break from this madness. It'll get better, I promise.â
You're not sure if you believe her, but you do step outside to take your break.Â
As you stand outside in the back, you take note of tightness in your body that you weren't even aware of. The cigarette smoke calms you, loosens you. Or maybe you owe that to getting out of that hot kitchen.Â
This time, you see Carmy before you hear him. You turn to the door to see him stepping out, a pack of smokes in his hand.Â
âHey,â he says.Â
âHey,â you reply.
âEverythinâ goinâ okay so far?â
âYeah. It's fine.â Other than everything.
âReally?â His surprise just pisses you off further. âWell, that's good.â
â...Yeah.â You decide if your mouth stays unoccupied, you'll start cussing him out, so you put your cigarette back in your mouth.Â
âYou're bleeding.â
âWhat?â
âI said, you're bleeding. Your hand.âÂ
You look down at your hand holding the cigarette, and sure enough, there's a thin, shallow cut oozing blood near one of your knuckles.Â
âShit,â you mutter, quickly sucking the skin into your mouth. When you pull it back, the red refills. âI didn't even notice.â
âLet's get a bandaid on that.â He puts his unlit cigarette back into his pack. âI have some in my office.â
That's how you end up in the enclosed, dark space of his office, seated on the only chair as he leans back against his cluttered desk. The dingy first-aid kit is propped on top of a shaky stack of papers. Carmy takes out a bandaid from it and peels it open.
âThought I gave you a sharp knife, it shouldn't have cut you like that,â Carmy comments.Â
âIt was sharp,â you correct. âGuess I just fucked up.â
âIt happens,â he says, which surprises you. He keeps surprising you. You just can't seem to figure him out. âLet me see the cut.â
You only realize that he's putting the bandaid on you when he cradles your hand in his. His hands are warm.Â
He has so many hand tattoos. You notice the letters on his fingers first, the SOU curled around your palm. You notice the other tattoo on the back of his hand next, since that's the one carefully placing the bandaid on you.Â
He wraps it around your finger just right. Not too tight, not too loose.Â
âIs that too tight?â He asks, almost in a whisper. He's so close, and he smells like kitchen oil, cigarette smoke, and a faded cologne you can't place.Â
âNo, it's okay.â You don't mean to talk so quietly back, but you do. You can't stop staring at his fingers. They're long and marked up with silver scars and burns. If you look carefully, you can place the locations of his callouses.Â
âGood.â You donât know why he does it, but he runs his thumb across the seams of where your bandaid overlaps. Surely itâs just to secure it furtherâŠsurely.
âThank you.â Heâs still holding your hand. Youâre unsure if youâre imagining the tension in the air or not. Everything feels more intimate behind closed doors, especially in low light. âI couldâve done it myself.â
âItâs easier if another person does it.â He lets go, finally, and you try not to mourn the loss. âDid you finish prepping for the stock?â
âWhat you gave me, yeah.â
âAlright. Letâs go take a look at it, then,â he says, like that isnât the most anxiety inducing thing youâve ever heard.Â
âR-Right now?â
âAs opposed to?â He opens the door to his office, and the muffled noises in the kitchen become sharp and clear again, like emerging from underwater. âCome on.â
You donât know how it happens, but Carmy gets into five separate arguments on the way to the walk-in. FIVE. To be fair, two of them are from Richie.
âIâve been telling you guys to sharpen your knives, donât fucking treat them like this,â Carmy shouts, trudging over to someoneâs station. âYou see this? This is exactly what we should not be doing! How many times have I said this today?! Donâtââ
âStop going into my office when Iâm not there,â Carmy hisses at Richie next. âYou keep fucking up where the papers are put, and I canât find anything! Itâs enough of a mess as it is! NoâI saidâcousin, listen to meââ
âEveryone shut the hell up, clean your stations, and get the fuck back to work!â Is the last thing he shouts before slamming the door to the walk-in behind you. He slams it so hard the wire racks rattle. You decide not to comment.Â
The difference in sound is eerie. Youâre always surprised by how sound proof these walk-in fridges are.
âIs this the prep you did today?â Carmy asks, touching one of the clear plastic bins. Sure enough, itâs the one you placed there a moment ago.
âYeah, it is.â You chew the inside of your cheek. You were hoping he would be in an okay mood when he checked your work. It seemed like he was at first, but now?
âIt's on the wrong shelf.â
âWhat?â You stare at it sitting on the first shelf, just like he told you to. âYou told me to put it on the first shelf.â
âIt goes on the second shelf.â He's pissed, and there's ice in your veins. He huffs as he takes the container and moves it one shelf up, slamming it down unnecessarily. âI told youâsecond shelf.â
âYou literally said it went on the first shelf.â The ice has melted, and it's boiling.Â
âNo, I didn't.â You wanna punch him. Badly. You know what you heard. âAnd you forgot to label it.â
âShit.â That, you did forget. Youâre not above owning up to your mistakes, unlike him. âI'm sorry, I wasââ
âWe always need stuff like this to be labeled,â he interrupts, rude and abrupt. You can hear the thinly veiled anger in his voice. âI told you.â
âI know, I justââ
âDonât make excuses. Just do better.â
âItâs my first fucking day!â You snap, finally, and itâs like a firecracker in the dead of night. âI donât expect to be coddled, but Iâve only been here for a couple hours, and youâre justââ
âI told you to put a label on it, to put it on the second shelf, and you didnât do either of those things.â This is a different type of anger. Itâs quiet, contained. Dangerous. And with your outburst, itâs trembling at the edges.Â
âYou literally hired me yesterday!â Youâre exasperated. âYou looked at my resume for like two seconds before hiring me, and youâre mad that Iâm messing up?â
âYou had enough credentials on your resume. You told me you could work well under pressure and learn quickly. Is that true or not?â
âIt is true! You just have to give me a chance first!â
âI just gave you a chance,â Carmy snaps back, âand you fucked it up.â
âOh my god. I justââ You take a step back. âI donât have to take this shit.â
âAre you quitting already?â
âI wasnât going to.â You move towards the door. âBut maybe I should, before you fire me. Doesn't seem like you want me, anyway.â
You were planning on exiting the walk-in after that, to leave on cue, but the door doesnât budge. You and Carmy notice it at the same time.Â
Suddenly, there is a new problem.
âFuck,â Carmy curses under his breath. The two of you are pushing against the door, but it wonât budge. He slams his fist on it and calls out. âGuys, the walk-in door is stuck! Can any of you open it from out there?â
âCarmen?â Richie's voice is muffled from the other end. There's the sound of frustrated efforts on the other end. âIt's not fuckinâ budging!â
âFuck,â Carmy repeats, seething, and you agree. âCall Fak!â
âI already did! Heâs gonna be here in 20!â
â20 minutes?!â Carmy shouts. You close your eyes and sigh, audibly. âDon't we have a screwdriver in here or something?! Just take the hinges off!â
âWhy do you think I called Fak?! Shut the hell up and be patient!â
âTell him to hurry the fuck up,â Carmy barks, and that's where their conversation ends.Â
âJust what I needed right now,â you mutter under your breath. Carmy's not looking at you, eyes boring into the door that's trapping the both of you in here with each other. âTo be locked in a room with you.â
It's quiet for a minute before he speaks, cutting the silence open.
â...I do want you, y'know.â
âYouâhuh?â He said it so quietly you're not sure if it was a hallucination.Â
âWe need you here.â He's still not looking at you. âThis placeâit's fucked. We don't have enough hands.â
âI can tell,â you say, and you mean for it to come out bitter, but it's soft. Naively so.Â
âI want you here. I do.â He doesn't need to say it like that. You don't want to believe it, neither his words or the way hearing it makes you feel. âI need you.â
âCan you at least look at me when you say it?âÂ
Youâre not sure why you say it. You instantly recognize it for how needy it sounds, but you don't get the luxury of embarrassment. Carmy's already turning to face you.Â
âI want you,â he repeats, voice low. You think about the paint you'd need to mix to match the color of his eyes. Blue, white, and the slightest bit of orange to desaturate it. You're not sure what type of orange, though. âI need you.â
âFuck,â you mutter, despite yourself, and it's too late.
âAre you gonna do better?â You didn't even register him moving closer to you. When did your back end up against the shelves?
âIâm gonna do better,â you whisper, âif you stop being such an asshole.â
âIt won't happen again,â he whispers back, and you recognize it for the lie that it is.Â
You don't really care, though.Â
His face is so close to yours that you can see the separate specks of colors in his iris. You watch his gaze fall from your eyes to your lips, and it lingers there before rising again. Any shreds of self respect or control you were clinging onto disintegrate. It doesn't matter if he really means what it says. All that matters is getting your mouth on his. Â
âOkay,â you say, a whisper of foolish acceptance, and you're kissing him.Â
Or is he kissing you? You don't know who leaned forward first. It's not important.Â
âI saw you staring at my hands today,â Carmy says against your lips. Spit makes your mouths slide easily against each other. âYesterday, too.â
âWhat theâno you didn't,â you gasp, appalled, heat rising in your face, âhow did youâ?â
âYou're right. I didn't,â he admits with a cheeky grin. Youâre really gonna punch him now.Â
âGod, you're just,â you mutter, âyou're such an asshole.â
âI know.â At first, you think he's being smug, but there's a surprising sense of remorse under it. You don't have time to think about it, though, not when his hand is cradling your face. There's no way he doesn't feel how hot your face is.Â
âWhat're youâŠ?â His thumb passes over your lower lip, and the words fall away.Â
âTell me you want this.â Your eyes flicker to his hand, then to his face. His other hand is at the top of your jeans, fingers resting on the edge of your waistband. Excited arousal hits your gut, sizzling like browning butter, warm and toasted. His eyes are dark, caramel on the verge of burning. âIf you don't, I'll pretend like this never happened. I'll never touch you again.â
I'll never touch you again, he says, like it's not the last thing you'll ever want.Â
âI want this,â you murmur. âTouch me. Please.â
âGood,â Carmy praises, one quiet word enough to sear your insides with heat, blue flame on the underside of a pan. âThat's what I thought.â
His hands slip behind you to untie your apron. The strings fall to your sides, and you tug it hastily up and over your head. It falls to the floor next to you. Surely that's a gigantic health hazard, but Carmy's the one who throws it there, so you don't say anything. You lower your gaze to his fingers unbuttoning your pants. The sight of it makes you woozy. You take note of his other tattoos, noticing the letters on his fingers. You watch as the stabbed hand made of ink on his right disappears under the cloth of your underwear.
âOh,â you breathe. You didn't expect his hand to be so warm, even though you had just felt his heated palm gentle on your cheek.
âYou're wet.â The tip of his index finger dips into where your hot folds separate. It strokes at the fluid that's pooled at your entrance, coaxing it out. âWhen did this happen?â
âFuck you is when,â you bite back, but it's all bark. âI don't know.â
âSure,â he agrees, but not really. His condescending smile shouldn't be hot, it really shouldn't, but your pussy throbs against his hand, and he smiles knowingly. âAll you need is me to talk and you get wet, is that it?â
âIââ His finger rises upward, splitting you open and flicking at your clit. You buck against his hand. âDon't ask me a question and then touch me like that,â you hiss, horribly turned on.
âMm, sorry.â It's barely an apology. You throw your head back in frustration. âI didn't mean to.â
âI have a hard time believing that,â you pant. He's pushed your slick up your pussy to your clit, two slick fingers sliding back and forth on your stiff nub. The pads of his calloused fingers are rubbing you almost where you're too sensitive.Â
âThen don't. I don't care what you think of me.â You think he's about to get his fingers inside of you, and your breath hitches, but he pulls back. You regret the frustrated whine that is just audible enough in the back of your throat. He does it again, just barely pushing the tips of fingers in before pulling away.
âYouâwhyâdo you want me to beg or something?â Your clenched hands raise by your sides to grip the collar of his white shirt and yank him forward. The shock that flashes across his face gives you a sick sense of satisfaction.
âIt wouldn't hurt,â he mumbles. Seeing him stagger like this, even if briefly, sends a rush through your head.
âIs that what it's gonna take for you to get those fucking fingers inside me?âÂ
Like a coward, instead of answering, he leans an inch forward and kisses you. Or maybe that was his answer. That's when he sinks two fingers inside you, long and thick, pushing until your wet pussy's pressed tight against his palm.Â
You moan, a pathetic thing, and Carmy swallows the sound of it.
âYou're already begging,â he says quietly. He pulls his fingers out. You whine in protest, desperate and angry pleas on the tip of your tongue, but then he's pushing inside again.
That's the last moment of reprieve you get. His fingers start thrusting into you faster, dragging out slick each time he pulls them out. Paranoia suddenly screams that youâre gonna wet the front of your pants at this rate. The aching pleasure is louder than your fear, though. You canât help the way his fingers are making you moan.
âMore,â you plead, âgive me another, I can take it.â Your hips are thrusting forward to meet his hand when they push inside. Your clit slaps against the heel of his palm, and you chase the friction. He must notice, because when he obliges and stretches you out with a third finger, he grinds the heel of his palm into your clit.
âYou have to be quiet,â he says lowly when you keep moaning. âTheyâre gonna hear you.âÂ
âIâIâm trying,â you whine. Youâre squeezing so tight down on him. You feel so full. âYour fingersââ
âYouâre the one who asked for more.â He slaps his other hands firmly over your mouth. It silences your sound of surprise. âYou said you could take it, so hereâs whatâs gonna happen.â His fingers are slamming into your now, and your hole spasms around them in pleasure. âYouâre gonna come on my fingers, and youâre gonna be quiet. Understand?â
You know how soundproof the walk-in is. You had just witnessed it moments ago. But Carmyâs warnings do something fierce to you, bypassing logic straight into anxious, desperate arousal. Heâs right, you think. You need to be quiet. You nod quickly in response, so he takes your consent and sprints with it.
To your credit, you try to be quiet. You said you would. But thereâs only so much you can do when heâs fingering you so hard your legs are shaking. Youâre whimpering into his hand, the sounds muffled. Your own moans, his heavy breathing, and the slick sound of your pussy getting railed by his fingersâthatâs what you listen to as you come.
âFuck, youâre squeezing down tight,â Carmy hisses, and for an irrational second youâre afraid youâre hurting him, but one look at his starved expression changes your mind. His three wide fingers are fucking you slowly through your wildly contracting orgasm. In one of his palms, you're oozing slick, and in his other palm, you're smearing with spit.
You should be thinking about how bad of an idea this all is, having sex with your boss. Itâs too bad your orgasm is so potent you canât think at all.
You lean your head back against the cold metal railings of the wire racks behind you. Itâs uncomfortable, but a part of it feels good against the coiling heat thatâs unraveling in your stomach. The air around you is cold, but youâre hot, far too hot. You donât remember the last time youâve finished this hard.
He finally pries his hand off your mouth once you've stopped clamping down on his fingers. His hand lingers at your face before wiping it on the side of his jeans. His expression has this unreadable, unnamed intensity to it, and you can't tell where that ends and where the hunger starts. Although he is looking very, very starved.
His hand that's tucked into your underwear tugs it upward as it leaves, pulling the fabric taut against your pussy. It sticks like paper mache with the glue of your orgasm, molded to your shape. You make an aroused noise that's a mixture of surprise and annoyance.
You're about to complain, something along the lines of âwas that really necessaryâ, but then your eyes are zeroed in on the sheen of his fingers that were fucking you.
âDon't,â you start, suddenly worried he's going to wipe them on his jeans again, but you don't get to finish. He's pushing his index finger into your mouth, and you taste yourself on his skin.
âGood,â Carmy whispers when he feels your tongue wrapping around him. Fuck, hearing him say it like that does awful things to you.
You don't know why you accept it without a fight, but if you're being honest with yourself, this is exactly what you wanted. You start to suck, but he doesn't linger. When he pulls his finger out, your parted lips expect the other two, but he sucks them into his mouth instead.Â
God. What do you even say to that? He even has the nerve to look you in the eyes as he pops his cleaned fingers out of his mouth.Â
âLet me touch you,â you decide to say instead, because if you think about him and his fingers inâanyway.Â
âIt's fine. I don't need it.â He's oddly cagey all of a sudden.Â
âLet me return the favor, please,â you insist, even adding in some good manners. It seems to still him for a moment, giving you enough time to lift his apron.
Fuck, you think to yourself, the word resounding like an alarm inside your head. His jeans are tented so tightly it looks painful. All this from touching me, you realize. You can see the shape of his bulge under the denim. The silhouette is vague, but...
It's big.
âCarmy? You still in there?â
A voice you don't recognize calls out beyond the door. As soon as you both hear it, Carmy jerks away. You mourn the loss only for a moment before you remember yourself. You're scrambling to get your pants buttoned and your apron over your head.Â
âYeah, I'm still in here,â Carmy shouts back, instantaneously irritable. His back is turned to you, and you want to feel those muscles tensing under your palm. âAbout fuckinâ time!â
âYou're welcome, by the way! I could've left you in here to freeze and die a tragic death!â
âIt's not just me in here, Fak.â A beat of silence. âAre you opening it?â
âAm I fuckingâJesus Christ, Carmen, just give me a second! I'm working my magic!â
That shuts Carmy up. Almost. He sighs before turning to look at you.Â
âSorry for getting us stuck in here.â The apology is equally as surprising as the softness of which he speaks. âShitty first day, huh?â
âIt's cool. It's not your fault.â Other than all the shit that was completely your fault, you think, remembering the way you were shouting at each other just a moment ago. âKinda shitty though, yeah.â
âYeah.â He sighs again. âIf you wanna leave, I don't blame you.â
âI thought I wasn't getting fired.â
âYou're not,â he says quickly. âBut I'mâthis place is a shitshow.â You're not sure which he really means to say, but you hear both. The restaurant, and him especially, are both complete messes. That much was obvious from the beginning. âSo if you wanna take off, justâŠâ He shrugs. âJust go.â
Maybe that'd be for the best, if you left. As far as first days go, you've already broken every rule in the book. You messed up your first task, got into an argument with your boss, and then had sex with him. Nothing about this place is particularly inviting, either. This restaurant wears its dysfunction on its sleeve, unabashed in all the ways it lacks. You had left the kitchen with ringing ears from all the noise and a cut on your hand you didn't even notice.Â
But here you are. You're not running. Maybe it's because of the fact that you need to pay rent. Maybe it's knowing that just one more pair of hands here could really make a difference. Maybe you're just desperate to keep food on the table. Maybe it's Carmen Berzatto, beautiful, haunted, and angry. Maybe it's all of that, a combined whole that's become greater than the sum of its parts.
Or maybe it's just that now that you've kissed him, had a taste of him, you refuse to let go. Maybe the reason is as shallow as that.Â
Carmy's been waiting for you to speak, tired eyes searching your own. You're still not sure what exact colors you need to perfectly recreate the blue you're staring at.Â
âAlmost done!â Fak shouts. âJust one more hinge!â
âHeard,â Carmy shouts back. He hasn't taken his eyes off you. âSo? What's it gonna be? Are you staying or not?â
Blood orange, you think all of a sudden. That's the orange you would need to make the perfect blue to match his eyes. Just a little bitâthat's all you would need.
âI'm staying,â you tell him. âI need to pay rent, after all.â
Yeah. That's the reasoning you're settling on. Rent.
âRight. Of course.â There's a glimpse of that gentle smile you've seen flashes of today. It fades away as quickly as it came. âAfter this, I'm gonna have you learn how to check produce next.â
âOkay, sounds good,â you say as naturally as you can, given the tonal whiplash.
âThere should be some that's about to get washed. I'll show you where that is.â The door's shifting. âBut before thatâŠâ He lowers his voice, leans in close. Is he about to kiss you?
âW-What?â
âGet a new apron from my office. That one's dirty.â Beams of light stream through the entrance of the walk-in, forced wide open. âYou need to keep your apron clean, chef.â
YOU WERE THE ONE WHO THREW IT ON THE GROUND, you want to scream. Just when you thought he started being nice, he does something that makes you want to grab him by the collar and shake him.
But you can't. The walk-in's open again, and you see your coworkers crowded by the door.Â
âYes, chef,â you reply, and the words taste bitter on your tongue.
~
@zorrasucia
#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto#the bear#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x reader#the bear fx#jeremy allen white#carmy berzatto smut#carmen berzatto smut#carmen berzatto x you#carmy berzatto x you#the bear fanfiction#my fics#my smut#YEAHHHH LETS GOOO im so excited to release this!! even had my friend proofread this LOL#which was helpful. i couldn't stop writing and then BAM. 7.3k#i really wanted the chapters to be shorter than alexithymia bc its a lot of words to proofread but. oh well.#we'll see if the other chs are shorter. cant wait to hear yalls thoughts!! its gonna get worse for carmy and reader from here#blood orange#đ©žđ
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Better Not to Know + Pt. 6
Kyle Gaz Garrick x reader

Summary: Kyle comes over to your place to work some things out.
cw: pregnancy, brief mention of drinking- smoking- drug use, mention of sexual partners- nothing explicit, a few brief PG-spicy thoughts/moments
banners & dividers: @saradika-graphics
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People deal with stress in all sorts of ways. Some drink, some smoke, some even do drugs. Adversely, others might hit the gym for a work out or paint or cook. Some people might even hook up with a stranger in a night club loo.
You wince at that last one, making a pained face.
Being pregnant, those first three options are definitely out of the question for you, and being seven and a half months pregnant, just the thought of waddling yourself into a gym makes you cringe. Sure, you could break out your water colors or make that breakfast bake you saw online, but those sorts of activities take focus, something you are sorely lacking at the moment. And as for that last option...
Well, you see where that got you.
One thing you can do that isn't unhealthy and doesn't take a lot of concentration is cleaning. It's something you've always excelled atâ being the germaphobe you are, so that's what you've been doing all morning. It's keeps your hands busy and your mind blank, so you're not sitting around fretting over the visitor you're soon to receive.
God, why did you agree to let Kyle come over?
Oh, yeah. He's now "officially" the father of your baby. How could you forget?
You snort at yourself and toss your scrubby sponge in the bathroom sink. Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you give her a dirty look and hiss, "You bloody idiot."
After putting away your cleaning supplies, you shower, dress and make yourself a decaf latté, then settle on your couch to wait. Turning on the telly to distract yourself, you end up watching the clock, anyway, your nerves ratcheting up with each passing minute. When a trio of quick knocks finally land on your door, the sound still ends up startling you, despite expecting it. It even startles the baby, who doesn't hesitate to give your bladder a good, swift kick.
"You should be kicking your dad," you mutter, hauling yourself up awkwardly from the couch.
Unbolting the door, you open it to reveal the gorgeous figure of Kyle Garrick leaning in your doorframe. He gifts you one of his megawatt smiles and your breath hitches in your throat. Ugh! It's bloody unfair, how good he looks.
"Mornin', pet. Brought us some breakfast along," he says, holding up a white paper bag. His eyes trail down to the large bump of your stomach. "Gotta keep you and our little one fed properly."
Discomfited by the open yearning in his expression, you shift behind the open door as you open it wider and avert your eyes. "Please, come in."
Kyle saunters across the threshold, eyes wandering about your flat, taking it in. "Nice place," he mutters, shrugging off his light jacket.
"Thanks," you reply automatically, still unable to meet his gaze. You gesture at the coat tree as you take the bag from his hand. "Hang up your jacket. I'll take this to the kitchen. Tea or coffee?"
"Coffee," he replies, hanging his jacket before following in your wake. Sliding onto one of the bar chairs at the counter, he watches you take a mug down from the cupboard before checking out the rest of the space. His gaze takes in the spotless kitchen and gleaming appliances, his nose picking up on the fresh scent of lemon cleanser.
"Are ya always this neat or did ya clean on my account?" he asks, curious.
You shrug, keeping your back to him as you prepare his coffee, then plate up the croissants and grab spoons for the yogurt parfaits you unpacked. "Both, I suppose. I clean when I'm nervous," you confess.
You turn around to find him eyeing you, a slight frown buckling his brow. "Why are ya nervous?" he asks, nodding his thanks as you slide his food and coffee across to him.
You huff out a soft laugh, finding his question ridiculous. "You have to ask?" you query, pinching off a piece of your croissant. You chance a quick glimpse up at him as you pop the bite in your mouth.
His frown smooths out, the wry curl of his lips drawing your gaze. Regardless of the hateful words that have spewed out of it, you can't deny the man has the prettiest mouth you've ever seen. It's so... sensual andâ
Far too distracting for your own good. Christ, get hold of yourself, lass.
Clearing your throat, you focus on your parfait, instead. "You were bloody awful to me," you mutter.
Leaning on his elbows, he cups his hands around his steaming mug and stares down into the dark liquid. "I know," he sighs. "I've been a right bastard to ya, pet, and I'm sorry."
His quick apology catches you off guard, drawing your eyes back to him again. He meets your gaze head-on, his expression sincere.
"I fucked up royally, love. Can't take it all back, but I'd like the chance t'make it up to ya." His eyes fall to your bump. "I've missed out on so much already. Don't want to miss any more."
You can't help the anger that bubbles up your throat, choking you with its bitter taste. "And whose fault is that?" you croak out, hands balling into fists on either side of your plate.
"It's mine," he blurts, grasping your clenched hands. "It's all my fault, sweetheart. Every bit of it. I take full responsibility for it and forâ" He glances back to your belly again. "This."
You glare at him, pissed that you're already on your way to forgiving him, so pathetically desperate to believe he means what he says. You're not ready to let him off that easy. You need answers, and perhaps a bit of groveling.
"Why the sudden change of heart?"
He releases your hands and slumps back in his seat. "It was seeing you again, hearing what you said before you left my flat."
You sneer at him. "You mean, what I said to your bird before I left your flat? Right?"
His face crumples into a scowl. "She's not my bird, but yeah. Pissed me off, what you said, but it made me consider why ya kept insisting the baby was mine." He shakes his head, looking back into his coffee mug. "I was told there was little to no chance of me ever fathering kids, pet. It's why I didn't believe ya, but..." He heaves out another sigh. "I just had to know for certain."
"Who told you that?" you ask, surprised.
He shrugs a shoulder. "Different doctors throughout the years. I had an internal injury, it got infected, caused some scarring, damaged the pipeworks," he replies, waving a hand over his lap. "Would never have dreamed in a million years I could get someone pregnant. It's like a bloody miracle."
Pursing your lips, you drop your gaze to your plate, processing everything he's just told you. It does help explain his reaction, you suppose, but it still hurts, remembering all the awful things he said to you. But if he's truly ready to make up for itâ
A thought suddenly occurs to you, making your chest feel tight. Your scalp prickles, a little green monster coiling itself around your brain. "If you didn't know your boys were swimming again, you should probably get in touch with that bird you were with, as well as any other women you've been with lately."
God, how it galls you to hear yourself say that. Not because it isn't true, but because of the jealous, catty tone you used to deliver it. As much as you hate to admit it, it would kill you to learn some other bird might be pregnant with his child.
Kyle sniffs in amusement. "No worries there, pet. Claire or Clara said I passed out as soon as I hit the bed, so nothing happened between us. As for any other birds, I've not been with anyone else of late, but even if I had, I always use protection." He smirks at your cynical look. "Well, almost always. You're obviously the one exception."
You roll your eyes and scoff a laugh. "Right. Obviously."
You have to fight not to grin, though, far too pleased with his admission. You don't want to think about what it says about you that you're chuffed to know you were his one exception. Then again, Kyle had been your one and only exception as well. How foolish would it be of you to hopeâ
Nope! No no no. You are not falling into that sexy man-trap again. That's already proven to be disastrous for you. Moving forward from this, your interactions with Kyle will be strictly about the baby. Anything else would just complicate things.
Right. Moving along.
With the air finally cleared between you, the two of you finish your breakfast while you attempt to catch Kyle up on everything he's missed. You can't help but be pleased by how excited he seems, even while discussing things like breastfeeding and car seats.
Then you break out the ultrasound images you've saved. The soft look of awe on his face as he flips through them does something to you. You have to ignore the little swoop of arousal you experience when he beams that sexy, knee-wobbling smile at you when you point out the sex of the baby.
"A son?" he breathes out, taking hold of your hands. "You're givin' me a son, sweetheart?"
He then draws you into his arms, splaying his big hand over your belly. "Thank you," he whispers at your ear. "I swear I'll take care of you and our boy, love. I swear it on my life."
It's harder to ignore the little puddle that forms in your knickers after that declaration.
It's hard but you manage to pull yourself away and redirect the conversation to a safer subject, namely your plans for your little bug's nursery.
"Have ya picked out a crib yet?" he asks.
You nod enthusiastically. "Yeah! It was delivered just last week. Would you like to see it?"
"Lead the way, sweetheart."
Leading Kyle to the spare bedroom that you are slowly converting to a nursery, you point to a large, thin box leaned against the wall. "That's what it will like once it's put together," you say, tapping the picture glued to the front. "I got a great deal on it. It's supposed to be top of the line."
Kyle bends to examine the box, mumbling under his breath about the crib's dimensions before turning to study the room.
"I suppose I could put it together now, but it'll be a tight fit with the rest of the furniture in here. We should probably wait until you're closer to your due date, I guess. Do it now and there won't be much room to maneuver."
Excited that he's offered to put it together for you, you wave off his concern about floorspace. "That doesn't matter. No one sleeps in here unless I have a guest, anyway."
Kyle gives you an indulgent smile and boops you on the nose with his finger. "But you will have a guest, love."
You blink up at him, confused. "What? Who?"
"I told you, pet. I don't want to miss another second of this pregnancy. You can understand that, can't you?"
"Well, yes butâ"
Kyle grips your shoulders and beams his megawatt smile. "Brilliant! I'll start moving in today."
Before you can speak, he swoops in to give you a firm kiss on the lips, then strides out of the room. "Be back in a tick, love!" he calls from down the hall. "Goin' to mine to grab a few things!"
You lift a hand to touch your tingling lips, too dazed by the kiss to immediately respond. You hear your door clap shut right about the time your brain finally comes back online.
Wait. Did he just say he'sâ
"Moving in?!"
-
#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick#gaz#cod gaz#gaz x reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#pregnant!reader#call of duty#cod modern warfare#better not to know
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The Legacy of House Harkonnen
masterlist ! pairing Feyd-Rautha x reader
Summary: Feyd trains his daughter, Lysandra, while Y/n reminisces about their past joys and the family's enduring bond, showcasing a lineage of strength and love.
Dune Masterlist
The vast training arena echoed with the metallic clangs of swords as Feyd Rautha Harkonnen, the feared and formidable heir to House Harkonnen, sparred with his daughter, Lysandra. She was seventeen, possessing her father's sharp wit and agility, a true reflection of her lineage.
"Faster, Lysandra!" Feyd urged, his voice echoing across the training ground. "You're leaving yourself open."
Lysandra nodded, her focus intensifying as she countered her father's strikes with swift precision. "I'll do better, Father," she promised, determination gleaming in her eyes.
Feyd smiled proudly, his heart swelling with paternal pride. "Good. Now, remember what I taught you about footwork. It's crucial to maintaining your balance."
As they continued to spar, Y/n watched from the sidelines, a soft smile playing on their lips. They remembered the day Lysandra was born, the joy and happiness that had filled their hearts as they held their newborn daughter for the first time. It seemed like only yesterday, yet here she was, a skilled warrior in her own right, training alongside her father.
Memories flooded Y/n's mind, transporting them back to the early days of their marriage, when Feyd was not just the heir to House Harkonnen, but also a devoted husband and father. They recalled the tender moments they had shared, the laughter and love that had bound them together through triumph and adversity.
Lost in reverie, Y/n's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden clash of swords as Feyd and Lysandra engaged in a particularly fierce exchange. With each strike and parry, it was evident that Lysandra had inherited her father's skill and determination, a testament to the legacy of House Harkonnen.
"Feyd, watch your flank!" Y/n called out, their voice filled with concern.
Feyd heeded their warning, swiftly adjusting his stance to deflect Lysandra's attack. "Thank you, my love," he said, his gaze briefly meeting theirs before returning to the fray.
As the training session drew to a close, Feyd and Lysandra stood facing each other, their breathing heavy but triumphant. It was a scene that filled Y/n's heart with pride and joy, knowing that their family's legacy would endure for generations to come.
"Well done, Lysandra," Feyd praised, a hint of admiration in his voice. "You're improving with each session."
Lysandra beamed, her eyes sparkling with gratitude. "Thank you, Father. I couldn't have done it without your guidance."
Feyd placed a hand on her shoulder, a rare display of affection from the stoic warrior. "You have the potential to surpass even me, my dear. Never forget that."
Y/n approached them, a sense of contentment washing over them as they watched father and daughter share a moment of mutual respect and admiration. "You both make me proud," they said, their voice filled with love.
Feyd and Lysandra turned to them, their expressions softening with affection. In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of their past and the promise of the future, they were reminded of the unbreakable bond that bound them together as a family, a legacy that would endure for eternity.
#feyd rautha x you#feyd rautha imagines#feyd rautha imagine#feyd rautha x reader#feyd rautha#feyd x you#feyd x reader#feyd rautha harkonnen imagines#feyd rautha harkonnen x you#feyd smut#dune imagines#dune imagine#dune fanfiction#dune part 2#austin butler fanfiction#austin butler imagine#austin butler fanfic#austin butler imagines#austin butler#austin butler x y/n#austin butler x you#austin butler x reader#dune movie#dune x you#dune x reader#dune part two#dune 2
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To the Frontlines
Kofi Request - Possible pt. 2 if they want to continue
If you want NSFW (5$) or SFW (2$) like this click here helps me be less of a broke bitch
Alpha König x Omega GNReader
Also Not doing the Medic thing! We can do better then that people!
Your scent used is based off this perfume! (Psss It's the stuff Rihanna wears ;3 I'll always hook ya up with a dupe too! Here)
Slow, Funny and Sweet Baby! No Warnings

It was the sound of the wonderful 4:30 am wakeup call that forced your eyes open, once more while it was dark out and everyone felt groggy.
Rolling up quickly from your bunk you saw the wave of the other few omegas in the space also get up- as they shuffle quickly to get to the showers and dress for the day.
It was fortunate at least that the Omega sectioned off barracks had its own spaces and there wasn't a lot of you so there was room for you all to at least separate out some, allowing some who needed it to nest or just to create general spacing.
Even if you had to fight over the 9 or so other irritated omegas you had the pleasure of sharing the space with to the showers- Always the unpleasant mix of scents washing over the washroom that made it smell like a candle from hell.
You quick to jump into the showers, hoping to catch the little hot water left and dress even faster. The assault of scents however soon started to disappear by the scent neutralizing patches all Omegas were required to wear being slapped onto everyone.
Sure it was encouraged for all those who had a secondary gender to wear scent patches to make sure grounds were neutral and no adverse effects. However in truth it was mainly enforced on the Omegas, not bothering to enforce it on the other half cause- Well fuck you I guess.
Slapping on the patches for the day you can't help but sigh, feeling already the uncomfortable chaff of the adhesive-
Was it fair?
No-
Where you going to challenge it?
Hell No-
They paid you and told you to scram to do your job.. And well they paid very well so you had no problem with taking this L.
You feel a tap to your shoulder as you button up your coat turning to see your bunk buddy and the closest person here on base looking at you.
Aaron was a stocky rather tall fellow, Pretty however- dark curly hair, pretty hazel eyes and dark brown skin. Most would assume a beta however they would be wrong by the damn near assault of roses, coffee and sugar when he took of those patches. He giving you a sarcastic smile as he held out the second paper cup shaking it playfully.
"Here are your suppressants sexy-"
"Oh thank you bestie, What did you spit in it?"
"Only a little-" He winked, The two of you smile and laugh a little taking the issued suppressants as you toss both your little cups in the trash. These where some of the few fun moments you got in your job here at KorTac, Breakfast which was always a bit more special since your bestie was behind the counter and the few moments before you are stationed in the big steel weapons box you call your job.
You'd never see combat, but as one of the weapon technicians you did the work for those who did. Which was as boring as it sounded- even with the charmer that was your sergeant always liking to talk down to you and most people in the little hellhole you all shared.
As if on cue a box of weapons where set down Infront of you, Still reeking of rotting blood. Looking up at your sergeant getting the morning scowl you were so used to at this point.
"Box for the day-"
"Thank you Sgt. Vega.."
You can only mumble as you start to pull out each item, mindful of the aftermath of whatever battle they had seen. Oh if those checks didn't have quite a few zeros behind them you were sure you'd have walked out of here by now...
Cleaning each blade, taking apart each pistol as you cleaned, put it all back together then tweaked it to work perfectly. Then chucking it into a bag or box depending on who it was getting sent to.
Day in and day out, Shuffling through the stacks of deadly metal. As the next box was set down Infront of you, already seeing the large rifle sticking out clearly ignoring any sort of gun safety and just ready to meet you-
"Is that a gun or just happy to see me hm?"
Dryly smiling to your own lackluster little joke, Quick to work you start to take apart the rifle- It only taking a soft roll in your palm as you recognize it immediately as 'That One'
Glancing next to your station leaned against you confirmed- bloody sledgehammer. There was always one bag of weapons that was always assigned to you. Seemingly whoever it was being picky and preferring one set of hands on their things..
You didn't have a clue who they were- however the fact that there was a sledgehammer included with the weapons made you not willing or wanting to find out...
But honestly this bag wasn't all bad really- Actually one of your favorites.
Especially since you got at least small moments of catching a fairly nice scent of what seemed to be and alpha on it. It was faint of course, Under the oil, the smell of blood and bullets. A nice spicy, fruit and booze smell- with a bit of vanilla. It reminded you of the nice festive alcohol you'd find in a store around the holidays.
However it was always short lived, especially since you had to clean it. Sad but as is life-
Whistling a bit to yourself you go through the bag, taking the extra time to get everything a bit more organized then what you'd so for the extra bags you had.
As you're finishing up the rifle you heart Sgt, Vega scream out to you.
"(Y/N)! I need that bag ready!"
"But, I just got it!-" You're cut off quickly by her shrill voice.
"Now!-"
"Son of a- Sorry I'm coming! God damn-"
You're fast to finish up your task cursing under your breath, checking the sight and making sure every screw and fastening was perfect. Looking it over quickly you jump up, feeling the snag on your wrist on the rifle, however quick to rush to the metal window of the armory where your boss is.
"Got it"
You mumble, Handing off the bag and hammer to your sergeant the women glaring at you for daring to make her wait as she walked out with the laundry list of weapons to deliver herself.
As you head back to your station you see where your wrist snagged, a small rip in the patch probably caught on the sight since it had been the last thing you'd touched- Changing out the patch from your wrist mildly annoyed now you return to your station mumbling under your breath.
Non the wiser at the snowball you had started...
On the other side of the base far from the were you continued to work. König sat in his office, his large form hunched over the stacks files on his desk as he looked over the details of his upcoming mission, Grumbling in his native language over the details listed as he bounced his leg slightly in thought.
A soft knock snapping him from his thoughts- Already smelling the Sergeant from the armory before she walked into the office as gently as possible.
"Colonel, I have yo-"
"Leave them there. You're dismissed Sergeant. "
He didn't even bother glancing up nor letting her finish her sentence, gesturing to the spot he always had them put it and waving her off just as fast. Already feeling the clear upset from the sergeant as she did as asked- König waiting till he heard that door close did he look up, sighing a bit to himself.
König was not in a good mood- and while he normally would have humored the women at least someone who had very clearly hinted she was willing to climb his 'corporate ladder'- He didn't feel like it today.
His nerves were a bit shot, wound up and he felt ready to snap his teeth at anyone if they came across his path at this point. Flexing his hands he looked to the bag in the corner spot.
It was a small ritual he had before missions. Something that allowed his mind to settle a bit.
He'd always look over each item in his office. A bit of paranoia and anxiety in the idea of someone possibly handing him poor items before he went out to whatever dangerous mission he was thrown into. That and it just gave him something to fidget with..
However he had started to be more lax about it.
It was clear most of the time it was the same hand doing his repairs, the sight to his liking, cleaned well and it was set up always the same in his bag. He still checked them of course but it was more for comfort.
Sliding over the bag he started his little ritual, humming a bit as he checked each item that would go into his vest or hands. Each gun, knife, the sledgehammer he sported on his back. Finally the rifle which he looked over- As he went to slide it back something caught his nose on the gun in hand.
His head twitched to the side a bit-
König rolled the empty rifle in his palm slowly looking it over, narrowing his eyes a bit as he saw on the corner a bit of white, clearly a part of a patch that managed to snag deep enough. Grabbing it between his fingers he rolled it a bit, Catching the scent once again between his warmed fingers.
He had to swallow the literal growl that wanted to erupt from his throat then and there.
Quickly pulling his mask up almost frantic he breathed it the tiny strip of gauze far more deeply exhaling softly to let the taste settle on his tongue.
Almost Peachy, Light flowers, Marshmallows and a bit of citrus.
Oh it was divine..
"ScheiĂe.."
He mumbled, eyes almost rolling at the tiny scratch of gauze. It made his mouth water, chest flutter and that feral part of his brain scratch at the walls he had long since locked up.
Truthfully it had been been quite some years he'd even gotten a scratch at that inner Alpha, Being jacked on enough suppressants to kill a bear at this point so he wasn't much of a liability- Sure the characteristics still were there however the need to fall into that mindset of wanting to mark, breed and so forth had been locked up behind pills shaped bars.
It had even been years really since he'd even sleep with an omega, let alone feel so undone by anyone.. All his conquest had always been either alphas or tough and tumble betas. Someone sturdy and easy to let go at a moments notice.
But this was different..
He ran his tongue over his sharpened teeth, jaw twitching purely by the thought of whoever this scent belonged to- really just soaking it in. König couldn't help but chuckle darkly under his breath. This little thing was managing to break nearly 20 or so years of suppressed instincts in minutes.
'Impressive little Omega..'
Racking through his brain a little as he continued to roll the fabric between his fingers. Letting the scent linger for as long as he could as he thought quietly to himself, looking at the weapons with a crooked smile-
"Interesting.."
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