#more coming soon kinda took a break from making these for a bit

[aquaaquors]

Minecraft girls part 1

[kingkaisen]

“What? You’re married? And you’re a dad?”

Yuji finds out that 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 has a family. — same au as this ♡

Yuji Itadori wanted to know more about the world’s strongest sorcerer, who he was lucky enough to have as his teacher.

The two of them walked along the sidewalk peacefully after completing a bit of training.

As Yuji devoured his blue popsicle, his wide eyes stared at the side of his teacher’s face.

Despite the black blindfold covering his ocean blue eyes, Gojo could feel his student’s eyes on him for two minutes straight.

“I’m surprised you haven’t bumped into something yet,” Gojo spoke up, breaking the silence as he smiled slightly. “Why are you staring at me? Something on my face?”

“No, I just had a question I wanted to ask you — can I?” Yuji tilted his head a bit.

“Don’t be silly, of course you can. What is it?”

“There’s a ring on your finger.”

Gojo was silent for a moment, but his amused grin widened. Eventually, he said, “that’s not a question, Yuji.”

“I know, I know, I just . . .” Yuji hesitated. After all, discussing such a personal topic with someone as superior as Satoru Gojo could have been disrespectful. Even so, he took his chances anyway. “Are you married?”

“I am.”

“Really?” Yuji smiled excitedly. He tossed his discolored popsicle stick in a nearby trashcan, and continued his late afternoon stroll with Gojo.

“Yeah, I’ve been married for eight years. Our anniversary is coming up pretty soon, actually. Think I’ll plan some sort of trip.”

“Wow, that’s really cool! Who are you married to? Do I know ‘em? What are they like?”

Due to his unwavering grin, Gojo felt a burning sensation in his light pink, blushed cheeks. Thinking about you had always resulted in him smiling so much, his face would hurt.

“You don’t know her, but Megumi does. Her name is Y/N, and she isn’t a sorcerer anymore, just an ordinary person who enjoys ordinary things, and I love that more than anything. Our daughter is-”

“What?” Yuji suddenly halted his footsteps.

“Hm? Something wrong?” Gojo questioned as he stopped walking, turning around to face the shocked boy.

“You have a daughter? Like an actual kid?” Yuji paused. “How come you never mentioned any of this before? How old is she? I wanna meet your family! Why have I never met them?”

“She‘s four,” Gojo laughed softly, and started to resume his walk along with Yuji. “Guess I had no idea you assumed I had no family, but it’s fine, you can meet them anytime you want. Wanna see a couple of pictures?”

“Yeah!” Flashing a bright smile, Yuji eagerly waited for Gojo to unlock his phone and scroll through his photos.

After only a couple of seconds — as it didn’t take the older man any time at all to find a photo of the two most beloved people in his life — Gojo handed his phone to Yuji, showing him a recent picture of the three of you hanging out at the park.

“Oh man, is that your wife? She’s really, really pretty, and your kid looks like the perfect combination of you both! Well, I guess that makes sense because you’re her parents, but it’s like fifty-fifty! She has your eyes, but Mrs. Gojo’s hair . . .” Yuji zoomed in and out of the photo as he rambled on, even taking it upon himself to search Gojo’s photos for even more pictures. “No way, is that Mrs. Gojo and Fushiguro? Fushiguro looks so young!”

“Yeah, he was around seven years old at the time. Me and Y/N were just dating then, but I knew I wanted to marry her. Best decision of my life.”

“When can I meet them?” Yuji asked, his brown eyes sparkling with hope.

“Why do you wanna meet them so badly?” Gojo reached out and grabbed his phone from Yuji, who had started to scroll a bit too far.

“Well, isn’t it obvious?” Smiling, Yuji paused. “You’re kinda like family to me now, I guess. So, I wanna meet the people you cherish the most, ‘cause I wanna cherish them too.”

Gojo didn’t say another word. Not to Yuji, at least. Instead, he hummed with satisfaction at his student’s kind words, and pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found yours.

“Hi, baby,” Gojo greeted you over the phone, “Would you mind if I bring a student of mine over for dinner? He really wants to meet you . . . he’s not allergic to anything . . . Okay . . . That works for us . . . Tell my muffin that I’ll be home soon . . . I love you more, bye sweetheart.”

“Okay, we-”

“Great! Which way is your house? Which way? Is it this way?” Yuji excitedly started to run off in no particular direction, and Gojo couldn’t help but laugh.

While Yuji said he simply wanted to cherish Gojo’s family, Gojo knew that it was a bit deeper than that. After all, as far as Yuji was concerned, he had no one. He craved the domestic nature of a loving family. He was all alone.

Once they made it to Gojo’s home, Yuji excitedly greeted you with a hug as if he had known you his entire life.

He adored your food, laughing and chatting at the dinner table.

He adored your home, carefully admiring your decorations and asking plenty of questions.

He was also kind enough to help out with the dishes, and play with dolls with your daughter afterwards, using silly voices as he truly got into the role.

And, later on, when he saw Gojo grab your grinning face and shower it with kisses, and his little girl happily run up to him as he picked her up, tickling her as she giggled, Yuji silently hoped that one day, he too would have a family just as loving.

But, he didn’t have to observe the happy family from a distance much longer, as, suddenly, you and Gojo waved the boy over, and wrapped your arms around him in a silly, loving, group hug.

And he felt loved.

— PART III —

[that-one-girl2020]

Please do the Polytr/x watching Rumi's twin's debut solo performance concert in disguise to blend in with the crowd.

The Debut

Saja Boys x Rumi’s Sister! Reader

A/N: Here is the reader’s solo debut performance but she does it Saja Boys style by doing a street performance. The boys kinda be thirsting for it though.

Synopsis: After the defeat of Gwi Ma and with the support of your sister, your boyfriends, and your sisters-from-other-misters, it’s finally time for you to have your solo debut as a music artist. And of course the eight idiots have to go and support you.

Disclaimer: The song I use in this is not mine, nor is any of the characters except for the MC.

Word Count: 2,214

Master List

(Reminder: Baby = Jum, Romance = Chungae, Mystery = Hyeon, Abby = Kwan)

“Are you ready for this, (Y/n)?”

“Are you hydrated?”

“Do you need any more posters passed out?”

You chuckled, waving your hands as you walked with the girls to where you would have your debut performance. “I’m fine, girls. I have everything I need.”

You couldn’t help but run through your mental checklist one last time. Bobby had gotten all the paperwork settled for you to use the location, the speakers and effects had been set up this morning, your outfit was hot but casual, your makeup was flawless, and you had already done your vocal warmups. Oh, and the boys would meet the girls there while you got in position for your performance. Everyone was in disguise of course, not wanting to risk taking the attention from your debut.

Perhaps the two hardest parts of getting ready for your debut was choosing what song in your files you wanted to debut with, and making and perfecting the choreography. You appreciated Kwan and Mira’s help with making the choreography—you had kicked them out as soon as you could though, wanting it to be a surprise for them as well.

Zoey shook your arm, “We’re just so excited to see you debut! I can’t wait for us to all collaborate together!”

Rumi smiled as well, also excited at the prospect of performing with her sister for the first time, “I can already picture it.”

“Don’t get too ahead of yourselves, she still has to debut after all,” Mira smirked at her two girlfriends. They could all tell that she was just as excited as them though.

“I can’t wait either, I’ve always wanted to share the stage with you three,” You told them. The three shared your smile, although they couldn’t help but feel a little bitter and lingering resentment for Celine who had separated you from them and kept you from following your dreams.

The four of you were interrupted when someone almost tackled you from behind, “Hey babe!”

You chuckled, patting the thick arms around your shoulders, “Hey Kwan! Thank you guys for coming!”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, darling,” Chungae voiced as the boys gathered with the four of you.

“Are you nervous?” Jinu asked you softly.

You shrugged, “A little. My hands are kind of shaking but I can’t tell if it’s from nerves or excitement.” You lifted your hands up to eye level and, sure enough, they were trembling just a bit.

Hyeon took your hands in his, holding the cold digits to warm them with his own. Jum slipped you one of your favorite candies. Kwan made an attempt to ruffle your hair but you batted his hands away.

“Hey, not the hair!” You told him. You noticed that the sky was starting to change color as the sun began to set. “You guys find good spots, I gotta go take my place.”

The eight waved after you, cheering encouragements.

“You got this, babe!”

“You’re gonna do great!”

“It’s gonna be so hot.”

“Break a leg!”

“That’s a terrible thing to say.”

“Huh?”

“It’s ‘good luck’ in the entertainment world, you old man.”

“Oh. Break an arm!”

“That’s not how it works!”

“Huh?”

“Guys…”

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself as you went to go find Bobby to go over the last checks.

Once you were out of sight, the eight put their game faces on. “Everybody ready?” Rumi checked.

Everyone nodded.

“Disguise check,” Jinu reminded everyone. Everybody tugged their hats on lower, pushing glasses up the bridge of their noses.

“Check.”

“Check.”

“Check.”

“And everyone’s got the goods, right?” Rumi triple checked, They pat pockets to make sure and they all nodded. Rumi nodded back, “Alright, let’s go.”

The area was decently crowded, a good bunch of people having gathered to watch the sunset over the river.

“Bobby!” You greeted quietly when you made it through the sparse crowd and found him.

“(Y/n), you’re just on time!” Bobby greeted you, his voice hushed but excited. “We went through final checks a little bit ago. Microphone.” You stood still as someone came over and swiftly got a mic and earpiece on you and taped into place in record time. “You feel ready?”

You nodded, grinning as you took a deep breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I think.”

Bobby nodded, patting your shoulder, “You’re gonna do great, I know it. Go get into place, I’ll give you a countdown to cue the music so start wandering over. You got this!” Bobby gave you a big thumbs up and you nodded, the two of splitting so you could start making your way to your mark.

You eyed the crowd around you as you wandered casually to your mark. You had uploaded the time and place to your social media and plenty of posters had been put up and passed out. Your name wasn’t on it, everything only said it was a solo artist debuting but lots of people had probably already put it together. It was a decent sized crowd for a street debut for a solo artist.

“Alright, (Y/n), you in place? Cueing the music in five, four, three…”

You looked down, you were on your mark and you took a deep settling breath as the music began, filling the surrounding area with all the hidden speakers everywhere.

“Like a river, like a river, sh-~ Like a river, like a river, sh-~ Like a river, like a river~ Shut your mouth and run me like a river~”

Your voice rang through the speakers as the intro played. People began looking up and around, searching for where the music was coming from. Some who knew what was going on whooped and cheered. A ring of lights suddenly turned on to glow in a circle around you as you began to move, highlighting you as the sun set behind you, casting dramatic shadows over you.

“How do you fall in love?~ Harder than a bullet could hit ya?~ How do we fall apart?~ Faster than a hairpin trigger~”

The Huntr/x girls and the Saja Boys were grinning like loons, standing on a bench and the concrete ledge behind it so they could see over all the people gathering around you.

“Don't you say, don't you say it~ Don't say, don't you say it~ One breath, it'll just break it~ So shut your mouth and run me like a river~”

As the chorus dropped, you moved more, the choreography hitting harder and sharper as you swung your hair and moved your body to the beat of the song. This was it. This was what you’ve wanted since you were little. Just to perform in front of people.

“Shut your mouth, baby, stand and deliver~ Holy hands, will it make me a sinner?~ Like a river, like a river~ Shut your mouth and run me like a river~ Choke this love 'til the veins start to shiver~ One last breath 'til the tears start to wither~ Like a river, like a river~ Shut your mouth and run me like a river~”

The boys couldn’t help but fanboy at how hot their girlfriend was. Cheering as your voice sang out around them, their eyes locked on your figure as you hit the beat with the accuracy of a seasoned idol. Jinu almost fainted when you shot a smirk and a sultry wink their way.

“Tales of an endless heart~ Cursed is the fool who's willing~ Can't change the way we are~ One kiss away from killing~”

The girls were cheering for you just as enthusiastically. Mira whistled at you when she caught your eye and you couldn’t help the little quirk of your lips in your amusement. Zoey was waving her arms around wildly to the beat, bobbing her head back and forth. Rumi was cheering for you so loud that you could hear it over the sound in your earpiece.

“Don't you say, don't you say it~ Don't say, don't you say it~ One breath, it'll just break it~ So shut your mouth and run me like a river~”

You couldn’t help the fierce grin that spread across your lips as the chorus circled back around. The energy you fed off of the crowd fueled you, making you hit the choreography all that much harder, singing that much rawer.

“Shut your mouth, baby, stand and deliver~ Holy hands, will it make me a sinner?~ Like a river, like a river~ Shut your mouth and run me like a river~ Choke this love 'til the veins start to shiver~ One last breath 'til the tears start to wither~ Like a river, like a river~ Shut your mouth and run me like a river~”

The bridge kicked off and the crowd screamed in excitement when water suddenly shot up around you and behind you in the river, soaking you as droplets flew around you. You stomped and clapped, splashing in the puddles forming around you. The boys felt like drowning in their drool. Forget a succubus, you were their siren and they were your hopeless sailors.

“Shut your mouth, baby, stand and deliver (Like a river, like a river)~ Holy hands, will it make me a sinner? (Like a river, like a river)~ Like a river, like a river~ Shut your mouth and run me like a river~ Choke this love 'til the veins start to shiver (Like a river, like a river)~ One last breath 'til the tears start to wither (Like a river, like a river)~ Like a river, like a river~ Shut your mouth and run me like a river~”

You panted as you struck your final pose, the crowd roaring around you. Your breathing was heavy as you grinned at everyone, bowing appreciatively with a breathless laugh.

“Wooo! (Y/n)!”

“We love you!”

“We’re so proud of youuuu!”

“You did so good!”

“It was so hot!”

“You nailed it!”

“Wooo! That’s my sister!”

“Rumi!”

“Yeah! That’s our girlfriend!”

“Jinu!”

You couldn’t help but laugh and shake your head as you saw your eight idiots over the crowd. They were waving banners with your name on it and light sticks like obsessive fans. None of them knew how to be discrete.

You just waved to the crowd, trying not to draw any more attention to your idiots. “Thank you everybody, thank you so much! Look for ‘River’ wherever you stream your music, out now! I’ll see you all soon!”

Then you jumped backwards, water shooting up one last time as you used your demon magic to teleport away so it looked like you disappeared into the splashing water. You appeared just around the corner from the tech tent, coming around just as Bobby was coming out with a towel, wrapping it around you.

“(Y/n), that was amazing! Everything was perfectly on point, the crowd loved it! And that magician trick you did at the end was iconic!” Bobby praised you as you tried to dry your hair a little. “Social media is already blowing up, ‘River’ already has dozens of streams. We just launched ‘Play With Fire’ too. When do you wanna launch the MV?”

You chuckled at the barrage of information from the excited man, “Thanks Bobby. I’ll probably launch it after the footage of ‘River.’ Is production already editing it together?”

“Yup. It’ll be sent to you for final say and then you can post it whenever you want. You still wanna make an official MV for ‘River’ too right?” Bobby tapped away at his phone.

“Yeah, I already have the concept in my head. I’ll talk to the production team tomorrow.”

“Good. In the morning you have an interview with Minami Kim for E! Entertainment and you have a short appearance for that variety show in two hours.”

“Okay, thanks Bobby, I’ll head over as soon as I’m done with my idiots, “ You rolled your eyes jokingly, the two of you chuckling as Bobby went off to arrange for a car to take you to the set of the variety show.

“Good luck with them!”

“(Y/n)!”

You flailed, yelping inelegantly as you were suddenly tackled by several people. And now you were on the ground.

“(Y/n) you did so good!”

“That was amazing!”

“You hit that choreo so. Hard!”

“A siren.”

“You almost killed me with how perfect you were!”

“Congrats on your official debut.”

“The water was such a perfect touch to the performance!”

“Mother was mothering.”

You laughed at the rush of compliments and congratulations, patting heads and stroking cheeks as you tried to get them all off of you. “Thank you, thank you guys. Now can I please stand up?”

You all stood and you crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow at them jokingly, “What part of ‘disguise’ made you guys think you should make banners and draw attention to yourselves like that?”

They shuffled sheepishly, grinning awkwardly as they rubbed the napes of their necks, fiddled with their hair, rubbed their arms, scratched their cheek, and played with their fingers. “Well, we wanted to support you…” Rumi shrugged sheepishly.

You could already imagine the TikToks of the eight that would be going viral as you speak.

You just shook your head though, throwing your arms open to hug them, “Oh, I love you guys so much.”

“We love you too.”

Outtakes:

Bobby: *Scrolling through all the tiktoks about the Saja Boys and Polytr/x waving banners and lights at your debut* “You guys do know the definition of ‘discrete,’ right?”

Saja Boys and Poly/trx: “Uhhh…”

You: *answering for them* “No. No they do not.”

…

*Saja Boys Meeting*

Jinu: “Okay, so now that (Y/n) has debuted, she’s gonna have a lot of fans.”

The Boys: *nodding* “Right.”

Jinu: “And some of those fans will be guys.”

The Boys: “Ohhhh… We did not think this through…”

…

*Arts and Crafts*

Kwan: “Someone pass the glitter glue.”

Hyeon: *paper glued to his face somehow* “Is (Y/n)’s name big enough…?”

Mira: “My handwriting is too fucking messy for this…”

Jinu: *carefully painting a little Derpy on his banner for you*

Chungae: *murmuring to himself* “This doesn’t have anywhere near enough hearts on this…”

Zoey: *looking at her rainbow, glitter banner with deep consideration* “Hmmmm… Could be gayer.”

Jum: *peacefully making a banner worthy of being hung in a palace out of glitter, crayola paint, and cut out paper*

Rumi: *distracted by peeling dried glue off of her fingers*

…

You: “So what’re we watching tonight?”

The Saja Simps: “A compilation of thirst trap edits of you and your music videos.”

You: “Oh…”

…

Tag List: @brights-place @itmechaosartist @reni502 @chin-chii @cultish-corner @enerofairy @mama-m1na @akariis4snowball @gremlinartstudio @shynotded @shadowmoonlight0604 @omgsuperstarg @neigesprincess @sleep-7372 @hurts-my-brain @kiwibackie @gh0stied3ath @naysha140 @theferretkids @lelantyuu @sexyindependentdowntospendit @hornehlittleweeblet2 @moonymoo1 @moochiwoochi @cheolright @crescent-z @prorpy @mey-archive @cami1qx @nerdalicios @xxsadlovexx @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @blackheart34 @anonymousewrites @scarletrosesposts @justanindiangirl12 @beexboo @tatsuri-zomushiki @call-me-nyxx @queenofviolenceandnerds @randomfan218-blog @jaybbygrl @unholycheesesnack @ocean-mochi @iviorienne @confusedparticle @otakusimp1 @nosbaby07 @fries11 @ri-eveowe @1950schick @libdarkheart @yourjustassaneasiamx @the-bookish-artist @anduinandwrathionlover @eternallyrosyfire @lysira340 @lansy-4 @strayharmony943 @maximumtrashchild @bleufu1 @minepugs @valeriele3 @arieslucy @nisarelle @suzieq1948374 @esposamultifandom

[lndsismaeverything]

Lnds reaction breaking the bed

An: hope y'all enjoy ꉂ(ˊᗜˋ*)♡

Not proofread and kinda bit awkward at writing smut is I can't really write smut.... ゜:(つд⊂):゜。

When the bed broke, sylus continue pounding into your tight pussy . You try to stop him

" s-sylus...ah- STOP the bed! " but you let it go, as you are too lost in the pleasure .The bed wasn't important right now, you are sylus though

Sylus groans as the both reached your high very soon. Coming deep inside you filling you up to the brim, letting his cum ooze out of you

Sylus breathes heavily , seeing the mess he made out of u and the state of bed . He chuckled loudly.

He pulled out of you slowly and lean towards you " hope this is rough enough for you , sweetie . We went too hard and broke the bed, again . " he whisper to your ear

Yes, you and sylus went so hard that broke the bed again

" what will the salesman think if we go to buy a new bed the 4th time this month?"

Feeling the blood rush towards your face , you smack his chest feeling embarrassed

When the both of you hear a crack both of you stop what you where doing .

You try to calm your heavy breath, and get off zayne . Slowly sliding off of him

Zayne hisses at the cold air hits his cock as slides off you warm cunt

Zayne inspect the bed as see a crack on the side of the bed it wasn't that bad is a small repair .

" this is an easy fix " you said bending down to inspect it

" it's no use to repair it. I'll just buy a new one. A sturdy one that won't break . Even when you're riding me "

" shall we continue on the rocking chair? "You just shyly nodded, zayne just took your hand and lead you to the living room where the rocking chair is

You guys where way in to it that y'all didn't hear the bed leg got broken. Too focused on reaching your high.

When the both of you guys settled down, Xavier dick still snuggle in your cunt. you notice the bed being a bit tilted.

" is it me or is the bed leaning down?" You asked Xavier. But all you hear are Xavier soft snores, he was too tired down and fell asleep and you soon joined in.

" so the bed did broke " Xavier hold one of the bed legs for you to see which you frowned.

" now we have an excuse to buy that super soft and ultra comfy bed on the advertisement ''

" if the bed broke that means the neighbor must have heard us" you said as now your thinking how you can face your neighbors without feeling ashamed and the fact that there will be a broken bed on the dumpster adding more fuel to the fire

When the both of u fell from a angle because Rafayel was trusting hard from behind you into ur tight pussy so rough because of how the whole bed shook two bed legs broke off

The bed might as well be a rocking bed at the time when Rafayel filled you up before the bed broke.

" are you hurt? " you hear Rafayel concern voice, checking for any injuries bofore gently lifting you up

" yea I'm ok but I think we broke the bed "you point at the bed, after hearing that Rafayel immediately turned to the bed looking at the two broken legs.

At first his ears reded feeling a bit ashamed for manhandling you but that quickly turned into confidence and feeling proud . Breaking the bed boosted his ego for sure.

" guess I was too good at making my cutie feel good that the bed couldnt handle it"

[nicholasgoodgirl]

that was mean- nicholas

summary: nicholas was having a bad week and gave you the silent treatment.

warning: argument, crying, happy ending

a/n: i couldn't stop thinking abt this no joke. so ofc i had to write it out

from late at night till he left early this morning for work nicholas has been either quiet rude or both.

we haven't spoken to eachother or not even silents acts of love. nothing.

he cut his alarm clock off and i tried to give him a hug before he got out the bed and he pushed me off of him "not right now" he grumbled and got out of bed

when he left for work i said 'bye' to maybe break the silence shared between us, but i got no response. it was starting to get lonely. i missed my bestfriend that was also my boyfriend

i had nobody to mess with or someone to talk to about my day.

to stop these lingering thoughts i go back to bed to maybe get my mind off of things.

--

i wake up around 8 am which was later than the time i usally woke up around, but today was sorta a lazy day.

it was gloomy not much sun was shining, it rained a little here and there. it was more of a slow day for me so the extra rest was very much needed

i text my boyfriend forgetting about the whole silent treatment ordeal.

me: how's your day going so far?? :)

and to no suprise i was left on delivered and soon left on seen. i messaged him periodically throught the day; hoping that maybe he would reply

it was almost time for dinner which normally nicholas cooks cause he's just better at it, but i didn't know when he was coming home or if he would even do it, so i look up some quick easy recipes and nothing struck my fancy but the pizza recipe. cause how hard could it really be?

i put a packet of yeast into my bowl along with some flour, water, oil, and salt. i let that sit for 30 minutes then im back to cooking again.

spreading flour onto the counter and placing the dough onto it; kneading it into a circle shape. this was harder than i thought

i look around for the marinara sauce and i put it into a different bowl and add a few light seasonings.

i paste that onto the dough, then i sprinkle some alot of cheese onto the pizza and my additional toppings bell peppers, spinach, and mushrooms.

i was so proud of myself especially sense i wasnt the cook, out of me and nicholas. i was really excited for him to try what i made but again i highly doubt he would even eat the food.

i put the pizza away into the oven completely forgetting to set a timer and put on a movie while i wait.

--

a smell of burning was the first thing that woke me up. "shit shit shit" i repeat totally freaking out remembering i left the pizza in the oven.

i get a rag and ineffectivley wave smoke out the air. when i open the oven it smelled horrible. i was coughing from all the smoke that had entered my lungs.

i take the burning pizza out and throw it into the sink, and hose it down with the water.

thats when i hear the front door open and mentally face palm. "what's that smell?" he asks "i kinda burnt a pizza that i tried to make"

"of course you did" he mutters sounding unimpressed. "and the fuck you mean 'kinda' you obviously did burn a damn pizza" he gestures to the chunk of charcoal burnt pizza

"it's not like i did it on purposes or something if thats what you think" my tone sounding a bit confronting.

"It's smells fucking horrible so open a damn window first off" he took a step closer raising his voice.

"you don't pay for shit so i don't understand why you almost had this place in flames secondly. then you also wanna blow up my phone while im working for crying out loud what do you want from me!" he yelled directly in my face

and im sure he knows by now i hate being yelled at. it's something my parents did and overall doesn't solve anything

i just take it, i didn't wanna fight so i go over to the nearest window and crack it open so the smoke clears.

my eyes watered from all the harsh words he could dish out but not the equal amount of attention "well.. you are- when i was.. ugh s'not my fault" i couldn't get a full sentence out. i felt so belittled in this moment

"im going to bed i don't have time for your stupid ass shit" those words hurt more than he thinks.

he had the most patience for me, always making time for us and now he doesnt.

"that's so mean.. you're being so mean" i wipe some tears that had fallen. i turned away from him silently crying.

the peices of my hair stuck to my tear-soaked cheeks. "wait- I'm sorry please don't cry" nicholas' voice was filled with regret.

i lazily push him away from me but he doesn't budge. his arms wrap around me bringing me into his familiar embrace. "I'm so sorry for being an asshole. I've been having a long shitty week and i know thats not an excuse so you don't even have to forgive me."

"you're everything to me. i swear i didn't mean it." he adds

the unforgettable cruel words he'd said to me earlier shoved ontop of his sweet loving words made me cry more.

i let him hold my trembling body as sobs tore through my chest, each inhale was ragged and uneven.

my hands clutched the material of his shirt "im so sorry sweetheart i never wanna make you cry" he explains in such a low voice, giving my hair strokes in attempt to calm me.

my face still burried into his neck tears now starting to dry away, and my breathing starting to even out. he carried me over to the couch and placed me in his lap

i was drained from all the crying, the tense feeling in my body beginning to melt away when i really started to feel nicholas' touch. my eyes drooped again this time staying shut for longer.

i was too tired to resist the sleep that had tooken over. and being cradled in his arms didn't help.

"I'll order pizza for the both of us alright?" he took me off of his lap and placed me on our couch. then lays one of our throw blankets ontop of me. "can we talk in the mornin'?" is the last thing i remember asking before dozing off.

a/n: can yall tell idk how to make pizza

[keiluv-s]

first time, megumi fushiguro

cw. virgin!megumi x fem!reader, only one bed, megumi is kinda shy, oral (m receiving), english isn’t my first language

wa. 2,6k

pt.2

“So, what are we gonna do now?” I asked, looking up at the sky after feeling a few drops of water fall on my face. “It’s gonna start raining.”

I saw Megumi press his lips into a thin line, unlocking and locking his cell phone again.

“Still no signal?” He confirmed with a nod as thicker drops hit us. “Let's find somewhere to stay.”

“Where, exactly? Because we're in the middle of nowhere,” Megumi asked in his usual indifferent manner, but I could hear the stress in his voice.

We were miles away from the city, and with the rain coming down, there was no cell phone signal either.

“I don't know, but if you'd rather stay here in the rain...” I said with a shrug, turning my back on him and starting to walk.

I was sure I had seen a small inn on the way here, and a walk wouldn't kill us. We had faced worse things before. It didn't take long to hear Fushiguro's heavy footsteps behind me, and soon after, the first thick raindrops fell on our heads. Breaking the silence with the rhythmic sound on the asphalt, the storm began to gain strength, and I tried to protect my vision with my left arm as best I could. I let out a sigh of relief when I saw the large red neon sign of the inn and couldn't help but smile smugly at the sorcerer beside me, who rolled his eyes. Taking the lead, Megumi entered the reception area of the small inn. A woman, apparently in her 60s, with gray hair and thin glasses sliding down her flat nose, was reading a book behind the counter, oblivious to our presence. Megumi cleared his throat, giving us away.

“Ah... Ah!” she exclaimed, closing the book and throwing it somewhere I couldn't see. “It's a little late for you kids to be out here, isn't it?”

She spoke in a funny way, sounding like one of those cool, cute grandmothers who would make doughnuts for their grandchildren on rainy nights like this.

“Yeah,” I led the interaction with a smile, knowing that Fushiguro wasn't very good at social situations like this. “Do you happen to have two rooms available? We just want to spend the night.”

“Let me see here, dear,” she replied, turning on her computer. “Do your parents know you're out at this time of night?”

“Oh, his father knows,” I replied, without giving her much encouragement. After all, Gojo-sensei really did know we were there, since he was the one who had sent us.

“Unfortunately, we don't have two rooms available,” the lady said without taking her eyes off the screen. “But we do have one available. Would you like it?”

I stared into Megumi's indecipherable navy blue eyes for a moment and saw him shrug slightly. I nodded positively to the receptionist, who immediately took the room key and handed it to me.

“There are towels and some clothes in there, kids. If you don't take off those wet ones, you'll catch a cold!” she said as a warning, which made me laugh, but I accepted without hesitation.

The room was cozy, more than I thought a room in a motel in the middle of nowhere would be. There was a warm, lit fireplace in front of the double bed, which was very well made with white sheets and fluffy pillows and... Where's the other bed, damn it?

“I don't believe it,” Megumi said as the loud sound of thunder reverberated through the room.

He bit his lower lip before pressing them into a thin line, a habit I noticed he had when he didn't know what to do.

“Do you... Do you want to take a shower first?” he broke the silence and I nodded promptly.

The bathroom was simple but very tidy. I took a warm shower, washing away all the fatigue of dealing with curses all day long. I looked for some clothes that would fit me in the closet under the sink, but, unfortunately for me, all the pajama shorts were extremely large. No matter how I tried to improvise, they didn't fit. With a frustrated sigh, I decided to just wear the men's hoodie I found there, not wanting to take too much time, since Megumi was still in his wet uniform in the bedroom.

“All right, you can go,” I said, drying my hair with the towel.

Although Fushiguro maintained that unshakable cold and calculating posture, for a moment, I could see his eyes waver, keeping his attention on my bare legs. I raised one eyebrow and saw, even though the dark room was lit only by the fire coming from the fireplace, his cheeks flush scarlet red, and without saying a word, Megumi walked past me and locked himself in the bathroom. I let out a little laugh at the situation and took care to dry my hair before he got out of the shower.

[...]

“I can sleep on the floor, no problem,” Megumi said, acting like a gentleman.

“Oh shut up” I said, fluffing the pillow. “Lie down already, it’s not like you’ve never shared a bed with a girl before, right?”

I saw him open and close his mouth a few times before his cheeks turned red.

“Wait,” I couldn't hold back my evil smile, “You've never slept with a girl before, Fushiguro?”

“None of your business,” he replied curtly, pulling the comforter over his side of the bed.

“Aww, are you going to tell me you're a virgin too?” I asked, poking his cute, red cheek with my index finger. Annoying Fushiguro could easily be one of my favorite pastimes.

“It's none of your business, you idiot" he snorted, losing that little patience he had left, and threw himself on the bed, his back to me.

I laughed loudly and received another snort from the boy next to me. I turned off the lamp and settled comfortably into bed, falling asleep quickly.

[...]

I woke up to the deafening crash of thunder, followed by a momentary flash of lightning that cut through the sky, leaving an electric feeling in the cold room. With my eyes still sleepy, I could see the shape of Megumi sitting in front of the window, staring at the frantic dance of the rain outside.

“What are you doing awake?” I asked, sitting up in bed.

“Why did you wake up?”

“Thunder. You?”

“I don't know,” he shrugged, looking away. “Just... couldn't sleep.”

“... it wasn't because of me, was it?” I asked cautiously, pulling a strand of white thread out of the seam of my hoodie. “You know I was just teasing you.”

“No, it's okay,” he assured me.

“Then come to bed and sleep, tomorrow is going to be a long day,” I held out my hand with a gentle smile, hoping with all my heart that he would take it.

Megumi intertwined his thin, calloused fingers with mine, lying on the other side of the bed, but this time, facing me.

“Tell me, why couldn't you sleep?”

“Nothing, it's silly,” Megumi's dark blue eyes, though tired and heavy with sleep, seemed to shine even there in the dim light of the crackling embers in the fireplace, and I could willingly lose myself in that immensity.

“It's not silly if it keeps you awake, Fushiguro.” I touched the dimple on his left cheek with the tip of my index finger, forcing it upward, forming an awkward sideways smile. “Tell me.”

With a roll of his eyes, he replied, “You're so annoying.” He turned away. “And persistent.”

“I'm not annoying! Or persistent! I'm your friend! I leaned against his shoulder and buried my face in the curve of his neck. “If you're having problems, you have to tell me!”

I felt Megumi tremble a little. “Get off me.”

I giggled as I rubbed my nose against his skin. “Only if you tell me what your problem is.”

“I'm serious, get off!” I sniffed his neck a little harder this time.

“Tell me! You know I won't leave you alone!”

“Damn it, woman!” Fushiguro could easily lose his temper, and I enjoyed it when that happened. “You've been my problem lately. Are you satisfied?”

“Me? Me?!” I exclaimed, but kept my cool. “Why me?”

“Because...” He pushed my head away from his neck with his hand, which was kind of rude, but if he was going to genuinely talk about what was wrong, I could handle it without kicking him. I sat on the bed and waited for him to continue. “It's because... you make me nervous, okay?” At that moment, it seemed that, for him, any place in the room was more interesting than looking me in the eye.

“I know I'm always messing with you, but it's all in good fun, don't take it to heart!” I said sincerely, with a gentle smile.

“For someone so smart, you're pretty dumb sometimes” he mocked, with a slight smirk on his lips.

I felt the gears in my brain start to turn and my eyes widened when (I think) I understood what he meant; a smile formed on my lips.

“Me, make the great jujutsu sorcerer Megumi Fushiguro nervous?” I teased. “Why?”

I leaned forward on my knees, getting closer. I saw Fushiguro become uneasy when he met my gaze; his nose almost touched mine and our breaths mingled. I raised an eyebrow, urging him to answer me. His dark eyes quickly scanned my face, stopping at my mouth, moving up to my eyes, and returning to my lips again before he looked away to somewhere else in the room. A word to the wise is enough—in this case, perhaps even the lack of them. Fushiguro's breathing was shallow, an irregular breath where his chest rose and fell in a delicate rhythm.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” I said, staring at his pink mouth, which seemed so inviting and kissable at that moment.

Megumi looked at me, somewhat surprised, opening and closing his mouth a few times before pressing them into a thin line, as usual, before speaking, somewhat awkwardly: “Then kiss me.”

I cupped his handsome face in my hands and pulled him in for a little kiss. He seemed nervous, so I left a few kisses on his mouth, chin and jaw, making sure to drag my nose across him and smell his delicious scent. I turned my attention back to his lips, kissing him for real this time. I asked for passage with my tongue, which he granted. Our tongues intertwined in a very pleasant way, even though I could tell he was a little nervous. I nibbled and sucked on his lower lip, hearing him sigh heavily and finally taking the initiative to hold me in his arms. We kissed a little more before separating, and we were already tangled up in bed: we hugged each other and our legs were intertwined, with me almost in his lap. Megumi hugged me tightly, with his face on my neck, and consequently rubbed me lightly on his thigh. I swallowed a moan, so as not to, I don't know, maybe scare him. But damn, I was only wearing panties there. However, he surprised me by tangling his hand in the hair at the nape of my neck and pressing his lips to mine once again. Much more passionate and wet than before, we kissed and held each other tighter than I thought possible. Fushiguro lifted his leg, leaving me firmly straddling him, and I sighed against his mouth when the tingling in my belly became present. Megumi ventured to nibble my upper lip and I smiled instinctively, and so did he, and we stood there like two fools smiling against each other's mouths.

“If you wanted to kiss me so badly, you should have just said so,” I teased, a whispered smile.

“Brat” he clicked his tongue, but he was smiling too.

“Beautiful.”

Megumi merely widened his eyes, the tops of his cheekbones rosy, and I believe that getting these reactions out of him could easily become one of my favorite things too. I kissed each of his flushed cheeks, ending with a little kiss on his mouth, which obviously turned into a more passionate kiss. Megumi hugged my waist, kissing me more freely this time. Our tongues intertwined in a delicious way, and I felt my pussy start to drip as he hugged and squeezed me, making me feel the hardness in his pants.

“Can I go down on you?” My mouth watered just thinking about it.

Megumi looked at me in surprise, the redness spreading down to his beautiful neck and his breathing becoming even more labored. He opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“It's okay,” I said hastily. “We don't have to do anything...”

“No!” he exclaimed. “I mean... I... I've never done anything… not like that.” Megumi murmured, his eyes pleading and cute. I smiled and left more kisses on his soft lips.

Moving down to his jaw, I gently sucked on his neck, nibbling and licking. I took off his shirt, leaving a trail of kisses across his chest. I licked one of his pink nipples, listening to his heavy breathing, which made me smile. I did the same with the other one and went down a little further to delight in the defined muscles of Fushiguro's beautiful abdomen. Megumi helped me take off his pajamas with a lift of his hips. His cock is beautiful.

“So pretty” I murmured to myself. Enchanted by that perfect, pink, drooling cock.

I kissed the tip, dripping with precum, and looked up at Megumi, making sure everything was okay. He bit his lower lip hard, watching me intently. I smiled before sliding my tongue along the entire length of his cock. From base to tip, back and forth. I wrapped my fingers around him, starting a gentle handjob. Fushiguro threw his head back, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down and his lips pressed tightly together.

“If you keep quiet like that, I'll stop,” I circled the glans, spreading the lubrication. “I want to hear you.”

I gathered saliva in my mouth and spat on his cock. Megumi moaned—low and hesitant—when the saliva touched his member. Which only encouraged me to continue.

“No...” he whimpered. “Don't stop, please.”

I smiled before taking his cock into my mouth. I started at the head, red and throbbing. Megumi and I moaned together as I dug my cheeks in and went deeper. My hand worked on the part I hadn't yet reached with my mouth. Paying special attention to licking the most prominent veins, his toned thighs trembled around me. I stroked them gently as I concentrated on swallowing everything, and not gagging when his cock finally touched my throat, the hairs on his pelvis tickling my nose. Megumi's hand tangled in my hair, holding it in a makeshift ponytail. Without forcing it, just... there.

“Fuck,” he moaned, and I dug my cheeks in, sucking harder. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to cum.” I moaned with satisfaction, swirling my tongue. Licking, sucking, drool dripping everywhere.

Megumi moaned louder when his taste finally exploded in my mouth. A subtle bitterness, strong and addictive. I let go of his cock with a pop, wiping the corner of my mouth.

“Holy shit, who taught you that?” he said sulkily as I crawled onto his lap, smiling. Megumi kissed me and we willingly shared his taste. He looked at me with mischief and lust: “Your turn now.”

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

My Sweet Intruder (Sleepwalking Love)

I wanted crack but also fluff, this was the creation. Enjoy!

~

Tim had recently bought a new place to live near a college since he decided to continue his education, the apartment was on the nicer side of things and even though he had gotten it for his civilian life it still had some security on par with his night life safe homes.

All of this to say that it would be hard for someone to break in and even more so to not be noticed.

Which is pretty what he thinks is going on.

Someone is breaking into his house when he's not there which frankly is not that often to begin with since he's so busy with all kinds of things.

But the intruder doesn't seem to be causing harm?

There's nothing damaged or stolen just some food sometimes.

Honestly the complete opposite of what you would expect from an intruder, his apartment was cleaned things were moved around the kitchen was stocked with fresh food and ready meals.

Honestly it took him this long to know something was wrong because he had originally thought it was one of his brothers coming by and helping out or something.

But no after some investigating it wasn't anyone in the family it wasn't even his friends or someone else he knew someone who would make sense as to why this was happening.

Also there appeared to be living there considering all the things appearing around his apartment making a home for themselves that were very much not his.

But the Intruder since he had no name for them was ..considerate?

Almost sweet in a creepy way if you think about it.

His apartment was cleaned he had meals ready for him to eat and a bunch of other small things that combined were making his life easier.

He would like to know who this intruder was but his surveillance and all other tech always died out when it seemed they were there, so no video proof and they always were gone before he could catch a glimpse of even their shadow.

~

Danny was having such a good time, he was honestly a bit worried about moving to Gotham for college especially since apparently his application to live in the dorms had somehow not been processed or something and they only bothered to tell him while he was already there.

Thankfully luck was on his side because only a few hours after that incident while inside a coffee shop stressing about what to do and venting to his sister on the phone a man sitting next to him who looked like he needed a mini coma of sleep and looked kinda high overheard him and offered to be roommates with him since he was also going to the same college.

So yes things were going wonderfully, he had a place to live where he didn't even have to pay rent, and Tim was such a good roommate, he barely saw him but when he did he usually was more asleep then awake.

~

Tim after a while: "Why are there so many spaced themed objects in my apartment?"

~

Tim inviting Danny to live with him

Danny 'What's Stranger Danger?' Fenton: "Bet"

~

Tim: "How do they keep getting past all my security measures?!*pulling his hair out*

Danny using the key sleepwalking Tim gave him: "Home sweet home!"

~

Tim trying his best to catch Danny in person:

Tim sleeptalking:"One day I'll catch him"

Danny who is used to Tim sleep talking and sleep walking helping him get back to bed for the umpteenth time: "You sure will boo!"

~

Danny being grateful that Tim is letting him live there without having to pay rent and gave him a credit card to pay for things: "He's so sweet guys!"

Sam & Tucker: " Dude..is he your sugar daddy?! "

Danny: *shocked Pikachu face* "But there's no sugar involved?"

~

Danny thinking that maybe they are in a relationship just taking it very slowly because Tim's shy

~

Also Danny's love language being acts of service

Tim's love language is coincidentally also acts of service

~

Tim slowly falls in love with Danny still not knowing who he is: "I think I have issues"

Danny still thinking they're in a relationship and that Tim is just super shy: "Maybe we could hold hands soon!" *sappy smile*

~

Tim:

Danny:

~

What a story it will be when someone asks them how they got together! (◠‿・)—☆

Just an Idea

[punkkture]

Hiii! I love your fics so much, it’s genuinely the best💗💗💗

I was wondering if you could do angst with puppy hybrid reader, if you do write about hybrids💗💗💗

ouuuu this sounds so fun, i’ve never done anything exactly like this SO DONT JUDGE, but i will try my best. also im sorry this took so long to get out, it was hard coming up with a concept i knew would work !!

part one - part two

word count - 2.6k

dead dove warning: hybrid!reader, owner!simon, lil bit of breeding, ddlg kinda bcus i eat that up for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, simon who really does treat you like a dog

— simon was enamored with his little plaything. you were an expensive accessory. a commodity that he was lucky to have. you were his sweet pretty girl.

of course he has a nice and expensive leather collar for you. little clinks of the tags so he can always make sure where you're at. it was almost melodic to his ears. hearing you rustle awake from your nap and the soft jingle of the metal.

but sometimes, just sometimes . . simon has a bad day. everyone does. everyone besides a sweet spoiled puppy that gets everything she wants just because she’s pretty and mostly obedient.

normally it never bothers him, he understands it’s what you’re used to and it’s how he’s trained you to be. no ones fault besides his own, really. tonight though, he's just trying to enjoy a few drinks with john and abandon the responsibilities he always harbors.

that was until his little puppy was acting out.

and it wasn't like you meant to, you just wanted some extra affection - simon knew you were due for a heat soon but jesus, a man could only handle so much.

your sweet and delicate form crawling up to his lap. the clanking of your collar was echoing in between the words he was trying to speak to john. that puffed up tail of yours knocking into his drink a little bit.

"christ, baby, stop." he nearly growls out of frustration, the quiet tone of it held little threat however. his shoulders were holding a lot of weight this week and he really is trying his damndest to not get upset.

a gruff sigh parting his lips when you muttered a meek apology. just wanting to be close to your doting owner. nuzzling up against his strong chest and cozying down against his lap. your face tucked sweetly into his neck. sniffling softly at his scent, the cedar and smoke in it was making your head dizzy.

his teammate seated on the other side of the coffee table, eyes almost starting to glass over the slightest bit. the conversation dragged on in your head. burdened by the words you didn't really understand.

and when the conversation continued to drone on, you just got more and more restless. at the end of the day you really were just a puppy. a young thing simon was happy he managed to pluck up before anyone else. still lots of training to get you through.

the worst of your habits he was trying to break was your biting problem. it wasn't ever out of aggression, you hadn't even snarled at him before. but even a dog that gets excited and bites, is not a good dog. it was a bigger issue to simon than it was to most. it wasn't that soft attitude he always liked you to have, it was you misbehaving.

if he wanted to keep you from biting, he might as well try to keep you entertained. this was a result of his lack of attention.

your teeth starting to nip and bite at the skin of his neck, mixing that with your already far too clingy attitude had only earned you a firm pat on the rear. he was giving you a chance to quit. and it worked for the time being.

it was just so hard to deny the innate and instinctual need to bite at your owner, your mate. just sweet little kisses is how you classified it.

a little bit more time passed, your skin gently starting to heat up. the warmth originating in your gut and spreading to your chest, just now beginning to crawl up into your throat.

both men in the room acknowledged the slightest change in scent. a silent conclusion from both of them was drawn at the mention of a much needed cigarette break.

simon was expecting you to follow, which he didnt really mind. just the incessant nuzzling and biting was getting too much. so on his way out to the back patio door with john, he picked up a chew toy from the bin. maybe just a little bit of compassion was getting to him.

letting you crawl onto his lap while he lit his newport. one hand holding the cigarette while the other held the chew toy for you to play with. giving his own skin a break.

his voice gentle, "keep gnawing on that, no biting."

john just watched in slight amusement. it was all common behavior for men like this to be around. the captain was a little more understanding of these natural instincts you had. of course it was a little humorous to observe the way simon treated your biting habits.

unfortunately, the rubber chew bone did help. though did not compare to the warm skin you would rather nip at, but it worked well enough.

price went ahead and cocked his head a little as he asked simon, "she always bite?" taking puffs of his own cigarette. the clouds of smoke billowing out into the late evening night.

simon nodded, "all the time." showing off his arm, little scratches and bite marks were everywhere on his skin. showing his captain that not a heat went by without you biting and scratching him.

you were oblivious to the conversation now. their previous talk inside had bored you to the point of just toning out their voices. you were happy enough mindlessly gnawing on the toy simon held for you in hopes of getting that certain itch scratched.

"hm . . only an issue when she's in heat?" john asked.

your owner just nodded, too occupied with the cigarette in his mouth to answer. and the captain was a very well educated man. he knew how to handle a woman, and not saying that simon didnt . . . but maybe a different solution was what each of you needed to get over this biting issue.

"you could just knock her up already . . it'll get rid of that heat for a while. could probably serve a girl like her good, too." he answered simon's silent response, his hand reaching out to brush against your tail hanging off of his lap.

now that got your ears to flick in tune with their voices. gnawing on the toy a little less intently. it was making a warm and sweet heat simmer in your tummy. now that idea sounded good. cute little puppies with your owner who you just loved.

and you felt the chuckle come from simons chest as you pressed against it. that was playful to him. he just shook his head no, almost like price's suggestion was absurd. "no . . that's not something in the playbook."

oh.

"well why not? you don't want pups?"

his answer was clear. shaking his head no, again.

at this point price was just teasing. being cheeky because he couldn't believe this man didnt want to get his little puppy girl pregnant. that's what they were made for. that's why their pricing was always so high. known for big litters and good genes.

"not even a little bit?" . . . . "not even a little bit."

simons rejection to your natural instincts hurt. especially right now since you were close to heat. you couldn't help it. its how you were genetically designed. and to hear the man you spent every day doting over, deny you of that, it stung. and there was a weird stab of guilt that came with it. right in the back of your throat and if it got any stronger you could've gagged.

both of the men could tell. the words that left his throat were settling in the air between everyone. and price just found it absolutely incredulous. giving him a taste of his own medicine, he shot him right back with an idea that sounded just as equally stupid.

"could just get her sterilized, if you really don't want to deal with those heats or any pups."

he felt bad once he saw the way your tail puffed up and the ears on your head perked up. clearly disturbed by what he said. it worked how he needed it to though.

"you're insane, john." simon muttered, taking another puff of his cigarette. he couldn't imagine getting his little puppy girl spayed. it would completely throw your instincts out the window. there wouldn't be anything left of the girl he adored.

his friend just chuckled and nodded his head a little bit. "that's how you sound talkin' about not using a hybrid for what they're made for."

and price really did feel guilty when he saw the way you were digesting this whole conversation. just needing a little comfort and compassion simon just wasn't in the mood for right now.

a little tug on your tail got your attention over to the man.

"come sit with me?" his cockney accent different from the one you were used to. but some hugs sounded nice right now.

simon was more than happy to get a little break, sliding you over to his friends lap. you could've melted against the pudgy form you now rest on. your fleecy tail wrapping around yourself while prodding your nose against his neck. just getting a good sniff. but a short whistle got your ears to flick back over to simon. a gentle way of him telling you to knock it off a little, he knew what that always lead to.

it got another chuckle out of the captain though. how could simon not let a sweet little thing like this just do whatever she wanted? he was far more understanding than your owner in certain cases. in a weird way of describing it - simon was an alpha that went against other alphas, and price was an alpha that was there for omegas.

he was warm and inviting and always game for a couple kisses.

with that blossomed a little bit more confidence in starting what always got you put in a cage. snuggling up to the captain while his big arms kept you secure on his lap. sniffing at the spot on his neck and just ever so slightly nipping at the skin there. not hard, but noticeable enough for you to normally get disciplined.

price didnt mind one bit. smoothing over your tail while continuing the conversation with simon.

it just felt so good to get that itch scratched. the sensation of your nose pressed against warm skin and taking in all of their comforting scent, rubbing your fangs and teeth against something you couldn't get from a pet store for three dollars.

a firm smack on your ass dissipated that feeling real quick.

"no biting. don't let her do that, you're encouraging her." simon grumbled, not happy with the captains lack of discipline.

price held on to you a little snugger. rubbing the spot he smacked.

"she can't help it, mate. jus' let her get it out on me." trying to convince. but it wasn't that easy with simon. he was irritated. visibly. lighting his second cigarette. it was just force of habit anytime he sat down outside on the porch. muttering under his breath, "you're not helping."

if a smack on the butt was all you were getting right now, that's not the worst. what did feel like the worst was not getting your teeth on something. a little addict for it is what it made you look like.

you pressed closer to price's shoulder, biting the skin there. no one could deny that there was encouragement from the captain. he wanted you to be able to get it out while you can. always such a sweet and gentle man. letting your teeth softly gnaw on the muscle there.

but you started to get a bit too into it. misjudging the force you were using and biting down to hard. breaking the skin and drawing blood.

the captain let out a sharp hiss. he knew you didnt mean it, but it didnt make it hurt any less. especially with those sharp canines of yours.

simon was quick to give you a real hard slap on the ass, ripping you off of price's lap. "bad. you don't do that." he growled to you. it was clear you had completely snapped the last tether that was tying him together. he was fuming.

you had embarrassed him to a different extent when that bite mark pierced through his captains skin. he didn’t care if it was an accident, you shouldn’t even been opening your mouth.

a pounding heart and that ache of guilt came swallowing you whole. the ears on your head pinned back and the tail instinctively tucking between your legs. you hadn't seen him so irritated before. he dragged you inside, price could hear him screaming at you through the closed sliding door.

"what is wrong with you?!"

that one made your heart sting.

"how many times do i have to tell you to stop?!"

that one got a choked whimper part your lips.

"these heats are too much! im sick of you! maybe i should just get you sterilized, hm? you want that?!" he was just laying down every harsh and critical phrase he could.

he was holding a tight grip into your hair, making sure you were following him all the way upstairs. your chest felt beyond heavy - n incessant hole forming right in the pit of your throat.

"i didnt mean to!" you defended quickly, it was clear you were panicked.

"don't care right now, just shut up." he spit.

your feet struggled to keep up with his large strides into the bedroom. he hauled you to rest on your knees in front of a large dog crate. his hand grabbing your face in a vehement grip. rough fingers just digging into your cheeks and jaw. your eyes were wide, full of pure trepidation and held an ungodly amount of indiscretions.

simon got down to your level. his gaze on you was scary. and he knew it. but it just felt like there was nothing he could do to fix his attitude. he had given you countless amounts of chances, and you refused to listen. and this is what happens to bad dogs that don't know any obedience.

his palm gave one more good smack to the side of your face, shoving you into the crate and locking it.

"you are bad. youre going to be beyond lucky if i decide to not get you fixed. stay in here until i say you can come out." he barked, making sure to look into your eyes, so you really knew he meant it.

the bedroom door slammed shut. leaving you to wallow in the guilt of what you just did. you had never bit anyone like that before. mostly gentle nips or a few mild scratches, but a full on bite? it was unheard of for you. the sensation of getting the slightest bit of encouragement from price had completely done you in.

curling into yourself as you tried to let the soft blankets comfort your aching heart. tail wrapping around your form as little whimpers and cries could now be heard escaping through the gaps in the cage. you felt awful.

when simon made it back outside his annoyance was still glaringly clear. price wasn't nearly as bothered as he was. he had endured much worse in the field, but he understood simons anger and embarrassment.

"im so sorry about her, shes just - shes been bad lately." simon tried to explain and apologize for your actions.

the captain just held a hand up, he was a little amused to be honest, and he was more than happy to help ease whatever simon was going through.

"you want me to take her for the weekend? give ya a little break at least." he offered.

and for the first time all day, simon heard a good idea.

"yeah . . . yeah id appreciate that."

ೃ࿔* tag list: @vanillarosekiss @simonskitty @cu456 @silverwoodlynx @mlthree @vint4geroses @ktmjoslin @darlingchanse @xangelbnnyx @tslmvn @jgissle12 @asherscove @bunty-girl @diorpar @sky-robin @ldrtypeofgirl @mentalhorror @teranya @chawitea @all-by-myself98 @jinx53 @alfiestreacle @frazzledfawn @iamtoriasworld @annierosesposts @dude1634 @happysmappy @itgetsdarksometimes35 @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @slut-lmao @theyluvlaur @figthoughts @pinkthxt @hobiebrownenthusiast @h0lydrag0ns

[monstersflashlight]

The curse (part 2)

A/N: Hello there, my lovelies. By popular request (and bc I’m very self indulgent), here the second part of this story. I wanted to finish it, but it looks like it will need a third part. Enjoy!

Demon x fem!reader || sfw, hurt/comfort (kinda)

It happened many times after that.

You got to the bookstore and he was there, waiting for you. Your memories would rush back and he would fuck you. Then you’d have to leave and you’d feel compelled to come back the next day. It was like a force inside of you kept pulling you to him, but still you couldn’t remember him outside the bookstore. And it pained you. Every time you left, it hurt more and more. Not only because he looked devastated when you didn’t remember him the next day, but because your heart felt heavier each time you walked throughout out the door.

You spent hours upon hours trying to figure what was wrong with you, just to walk into the bookstore and be greeted by the main reason your heart felt heavy and painful outside of it. It was sad in the worst possible way, and you still couldn’t figure out how to make it work, how to break the curse.

You tried writing tiny notes, but as soon as you closed the door, they disappeared from your purse. You tried writing at the edge of the books you bought, but that, too, disappeared when you left. It was maddening in the worst way possible. Every time you walked in, you tried to figure out a new way to remember, and every time you walked out, it disappeared.

And this time around, it wasn’t different. You walked into the bookstore and he was waiting for you across the threshold. He was smiling down at you, his fangs showing and his tail wriggling a little behind him. He made you remember with a tiny peck on your lips, and as soon as you had your memories, you grabbed his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss.

But you broke it a couple seconds later, breathing hard and feeling his hard on against your stomach. “I don’t want to fuck today,” you announced. You had plans.

Yesterday, when you were recovering from the amazing session of depravity, you thought of a plan, and weirdly enough, you got to execute it. You thought you needed a free day, and when you got home, you asked for one. You didn’t know how that happened, you only knew that you asked for tomorrow free, and you got it. So your plan was in motion and the curse didn’t seem as dangerous as before.

“What? Why?” He looked confused, pouting at you as if that would make you want to suck his dick. (Truth be told, if you weren’t a woman on a mission, it would probably work.)

But instead of craving into your dirtiest desires, you took a deep breath and stepped back from his embrace. “Because I’ve seen how you look at me. I’ve seen the longing in your eyes and it hurts my soul to see you like that.” Telling him that hurt your heart a tiny bit, because it was true. It hurt more and more every day, and you were so tired of it.

“Come on, human, don’t be like that,” he was arguing but you knew that voice wasn’t his. He was repeating what somebody told him, and you wouldn’t have that. “We both know this can’t be as deep as I want. The bookstore won’t allow it.” That statement hurt more than you would like, but only filled you with more anger, which would be helpful.

You look at him with fire in your eyes. “Maybe it can’t be as deep as you want, but it can be as deep as I want. And we are about to spend the afternoon figuring out how to make me remember you outside these walls.”

He blinked slowly, and you could see the confusion in his eyes. “You… You… Are you sure?”

“Yes. Now let’s go. We have work to do. Where are the magic books?” You asked.

“We don’t have that here,” he said. But it didn’t sound like him. It was different, like a compulsion to tell you that. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Liar. I know you have magic books, and I bet you’ve read them all a thousand times trying to figure out how to get out of here.” He huffed, but you knew calling him on his bullshit broke something, you could feel it. He looked over his shoulder, pointing at the back. “Good demon,” you told him as you patted his chest, passing him on your way to the back room.

Just as you predicted, there were hundreds of books about magic there. And when you asked which ones talked about curses, he repeated the same phrase “We don’t have that here”. You called him out on his bullshit again, and the air felt electrified. He moved around the room until he pulled out a dozen of books, setting them on the table and staring at you as if you were a wonder.

You looked through some of them, until your eyes felt heavy and your back was hurting awfully. The sun was setting on the horizon when he tapped on your shoulder. “I need to close the store, human. You need to leave.”

“No, I don’t.” You answered, passing another page and writing down some things you thought could be useful.

He gasped, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. “What do you mean no?”

You looked up at him, amused. “Are you going to kick me out?”

“I don’t think the curse would…” He tried to argue, but you cut him.

“Then we’ll test it. Sit down, we have a lot to go through still,” you ordered. He looked at you, dumbfounded.

He looked anxious, but he complied, sitting next to you and staring blankly at the pages in front of him. “But what if it does something to hurt you? I… I don’t want nothing bad happening to you.” His voice was pained and you wanted to kiss him senseless. But you knew that would make you want to do more than kissing and you were a woman on a mission.

“I know, but we need to figure out something. I doubt the curse is going to hurt me, as far as I’ve read in these books,” you pointed at one pile of three books on your right, “the curse is supposed to keep the demon in, but not hurt humans.”

He glared at you, his frown deep and conflicted. “Why do you care this much?”

And then you snapped, turning to look at him with fire in your veins as you almost screamed: “Because I’m in love with a demon who’s been cursed to never leave this store. And I’m damn sure I can break the damn curse so he can come to sleep on my fucking bed.” He was staring at you, speechless, but the smile at the corner of his lips was enough to make your insides feel all warm.

You’d figure it out.

Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6

[atlabeth]

(please) spare me indignity

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader

summary: you and spencer spend more time together. it's bad, then it's good, then it's something else altogether.

a/n: continuing the gideon!reader series! a whole lot of this is arguing because they love each other fr. sorry this took so long, for some reason i had a really hard time finding my footing here but i hope you enjoy!! reader is a victim of the sassy man apocalypse bc this may be s1/2 spencer but he is not going to not be standing up for himself!! have this new banner that i made to try and help with my inspiration. title is from nothing new by rio romero

wc: 5k

warning(s): r and spence argue some more. angst, hurt w/o comfort, then hurt with comfort! idk theyre kinda sweet

You and Spencer spend the next six and a half hours watching movies. 

You make it through Goodfellas and you only tell him to be quiet twelve times. You take a break to get water and make popcorn, which was so generously provided in your grocery supply, and while you’re doing it, Spencer insists on picking the next one. You end up watching Psycho, and you don’t think he lets a single scene go by without explaining the meaning behind it. 

You choose Notting Hill after, and he knows just as much. He picks Halloween—it doesn’t really help your stalker anxieties, and Spencer apologizes profusely when you bring it up, but you still end up finishing it. Next you go for Pointe Grosse Blank, then Spencer picks Kolya, a Russian film that he specifically put into the box. 

There are subtitles, but he spends half the time translating for you anyway—apparently there are nuances to the script that an English translation doesn’t get compared to the original Russian, and that would be a tragedy. 

He’s in the middle of his third rant going on seven minutes when you finally break. 

“Okay,” you say as you reach for the remote, “I can’t do this anymore.”

You do a double take when your hand meets another instead of hard plastic, and you see Spencer beat you to it. You pull your hand away as soon as possible, feeling your face heat from annoyance.

“What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” he echoes. “The movie’s not over yet.”

“I can’t take any more of your rambling,” you say. “I’m cutting you off.”

He frowns. “We have to finish the movie first.” 

“What are you, a broken record?”

“I couldn’t be a broken record because I said two different things,” he protests. “Besides, what else are you going to do?” 

“Unpack my things? Read a book? Sit in silence staring at the wall in my room?” You shrug as you stand up and walk over to the kitchen. “I’ve got a lot of options.” 

“Gideon told me not to let you out of my sight,” Spencer says, standing up as well. 

“You can see me pretty well from there,” you say. “You don’t have to invade every bit of my privacy.” 

“I— I kind of do,” he says. “The whole point of a safe house is to keep you safe. If you’re off doing your own thing, it’s not really safe.”

“It’s not like I’m leaving!” You throw up your hands in exasperation. “What, are you going to sleep with me too? Make sure I don’t go anywhere in the middle of the night?” 

It’s almost funny how fast his face flushes bright red. You’ve got a feeling he doesn’t have a lot of experience with this sort of thing. 

“That’s what I thought,” you say. “Keep watching your movie if you want. Just leave me alone.” 

You feel his eyes on your back as you storm off to your room. The childish part of you wants to slam the door, but you decide to throw Spencer the smallest bone and leave it open. 

It’s not his fault that you hate him, and that just makes you hate him even more. He gets to come out of this the bigger person, a saint for putting up with your various deficiencies while keeping you safe from a stalker. You’re just the difficult, ungrateful, estranged bastard daughter of the most deified man in the Behavioral Analysis Unit who can’t set her personal grudges aside for her own good. 

You shove your duffel bag into the bed with a little too much force. You unzip it, deciding to try and occupy yourself with unpacking. You’re here for the indefinite future, so you might as well make yourself at home. 

You can’t help the dry laugh that comes at the thought. You don’t know if you’ve ever felt at home anywhere. 

This might be the worst thing about this whole situation. You’ve got a stalker out there, and it’s making you do all this bullshit introspection against your will. It’s got you thinking about your dad and your relationship with him, and thinking about Spencer Reid and how he’s replaced you in your father’s life without even really knowing about it because he didn’t know about you until he walked into your dad’s office a month ago.

Ten minutes pass in a blur before you’re knocked out of it by a rapping on your door. You turn to see Spencer standing in the doorway, expression unreadable.

“What?” you ask.

“You’ve been quiet,” he says. “I’m just checking in.”

“I’m still alive,” you say. “Nothing exciting happened in the five seconds I was gone.”

“It was ten minutes and thirty two seconds, actually,” he says. “But— but good.”

Again, more silence passes between you. You look up at him from your pile of clothes after thirty seconds. 

“Are you just going to stand there?”

“I— I don’t know what else to do,” he stammers.

“Didn’t you say you did something like this before?” you ask. “Guarded some girl from her stalker?”

Spencer nods. “She was a lot easier to get along with.”

You roll your eyes. “Somebody out there wants to kill me to get back at my dad. Sorry that I’m not the pinnacle of happiness.” You make a point to avoid his gaze. “But what I’m trying to say is that you’ve done this all before. You should have some kind of idea of what to do besides bothering me.”

“How am I bothering you?” Spencer asks in exasperation. “I’ve said three sentences to you!”

“Everything you do bothers me, boy genius,” you say. “I thought you would have figured that out by now.” 

“I—” He looks like he wants to say more, but instead he just clamps his mouth shut and shakes his head before he walks away. 

You stare down at your pile of clothes, largely unfolded and scattered around the bed. The silence doesn’t give you the satisfaction you thought it would. 

It only lasts for all of thirty seconds though, and you don’t have time to linger in the discomfort—you hear footsteps, heavier ones this time, and you look up to see Spencer round the corner once again. 

“What is your problem with me?” he blurts out. 

You frown. “Excuse me?” 

“You heard me,” Spencer nods. “You hate your dad, fine— but he’s not here for you to fight with, so you’re taking it out on me. It’s classic displacement, and you don’t get to take it out on me.”

“Why not?” you ask. 

“Because it— it’s not fair!” he sputters. “I didn’t do anything to you— I didn’t even know you existed until a month ago!” 

“Well, gosh, boy genius,” you say, “I’m sure you’re smart enough to figure it out yourself.”

“Stop calling me boy genius!” he exclaims. “We’re the same age!”

“Then stop acting like one,” you retort. “I know you’ve got a psychology degree, but you don’t need to use them on me whenever you can.” 

He frowns, his mouth opening for a second before he closes it. 

“Were you going to ask how I knew that before you realized the obvious answer?” you ask. 

“No,” he says. 

“Yes, you were.” You continue folding your clothes. “You went to Caltech, MIT, and Yale, even though it was your safety school. You’ve got three PhDs, two BAs, and you’re working on a philosophy degree, but you’re not done with it yet.” You shrug. “A little difficult to make it to classes with all the FBI stuff.” 

“…Does he really talk about me that much?” Spencer’s voice is quieter than it was before. 

“Oh, yeah,” you say. You set a finished pair of jeans to the side then look at him. “I graduated from college too. Granted, it was a couple years ago, not when I was 17, but I think it still warrants a little support.”

“You went to George Mason,” Spencer says. 

Your movements stutter. You weren’t expecting him to actually know.

“Yeah,” you say. Your heart skips a beat. “How do you know?”

Has he talked about you to the team before? Sure, they didn’t know you existed before you showed up out of the blue, but maybe he showed them a picture after it happened. Your mom carries one of you in your cap and gown in her wallet—maybe he got a hold of one and Spencer caught a glimpse of that. Maybe you just missed it and he does have a picture of you on his desk. Maybe—

“You have a sweatshirt for it,” he says with a gesture. You look where his finger is pointing, and sure enough, your GMU sweatshirt is tangled up with a couple of other crewnecks.

“…Of course,” you say. You don’t know why you even dared to hope. “Because it’s more likely that you’d notice something like that than it is for my dad to talk about me.”

Spencer says your name, and you hate the sympathy in it. 

“No.” You cut him off before he can get any further. “Don’t try to defend him. You know,” you huff a cold, humorless laugh, “he missed my graduation, too. Two separate dates for commencement and my actual school’s ceremony, one 45 minute car ride, and he couldn’t make it to either one.”

“You don’t know how busy we are,” Spencer tries again. “We work weekends and holidays and around the clock— sometimes we get called in at 3am to stay in some random town for weeks at a time, and there’s nothing we can do about it! I— I mean, we’ve had three days off in the past 47 days and—”

“That’s why I have a problem with you!” you cry out, throwing the shirt in your hand onto your bed as you turn to face him. “Because I’m twenty-four years old, and I’ve lived an hour away from my dad for the past six years, but his team that he spends all his time with didn’t even know I existed until I showed up at your office.” You take a step forward, anger resurging inside of you. “Because I threw away a chance at an Ivy to get to see him more, just to deal with the same bullshit as usual. Because I worry about him dying every single day he’s in the field, and he can’t even give me a phone call at the end of it all—” another step forward— “and even in the middle of this shitshow, you think you have a right to defend him— to- to tell me how to feel about him!”

You move even closer, close enough to see his wrinkled button-up is partially untucked, his lips are slightly parted, and his stupid doe eyes—that haven’t left yours—with his stupid dilated pupils, and you jab your finger in his chest. 

“Because all I ever wanted is my father’s affection,” your voice breaks, and you hate the way it makes you feel, “and he’d rather build an entirely new life with an entirely new kid than give it to me.” 

You push your way past him, making sure to shoulder-check him on your way out. You don’t look back as you forge your way to the bathroom (that you unfortunately have to share), even though his gaze burns into your back. 

You close and lock the door. It’s childish, you know, but you need to be alone right now. You can’t stand to be around him.

Spencer just— he irritates you in a way that no one else ever has. He’s your age and more accomplished than you could ever dream to be, with almost six times the degrees and a much better job, and probably a family that loves him. Who wouldn’t love him with everything he’s done?

You, apparently.  

You plant your hands on the countertop as you stare into the mirror. Your usual dark circles have become more pronounced over the past month, and you can’t help a wry laugh at the thought. All that trouble sleeping and it was for the wrong damn reason. 

If you knew someone was watching you, you would have moved out of Virginia months ago. But maybe this bastard would have found you anyway. If Spencer’s profiling is right and he’s going after you because of your dad, you don’t think much could really dissuade him. 

Tears pool at your waterline, and you wipe them away with a rough hand before they can manifest into something more. You slump back against the opposing wall as you continue to stare at yourself. 

You’re pathetic and you can’t even find it in yourself to care. 

You hear the sound of footsteps once more and you wrap your arms around your midsection. This chill won’t go away. 

“…Are you still alive?” a hesitant voice calls. 

You bite back a remark. “I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?” 

“No.” You don’t know what makes you answer honestly. 

A beat of silence passes. You really do feel like a kid. You’re talking to him through the door because you just yelled at him and Spencer is still being the bigger person. 

“Can I help at all?”

This answer comes a little quicker. “No.”

Again, more silence.

“Okay.” Spencer pauses, and the footsteps start again. His voice is a little closer the next time he speaks. “Just… let me know when you’re turning in. So I know you’re still alive.”

You huff. He can’t even stick to his guns and hate you like you hate him for ten minutes. “I don’t think I’ll be dying anytime soon.”

“You never know,” he says. “Spontaneous human combustion might not be proven beyond pseudoscientific concepts, but there’s a first time for everything.”

The laugh that comes out of you is unexpected, both in its lightness and occurrence at all. “Keep an ear out for the smoke alarm, then.”

“If you smell anything burning, stop, drop and roll,” he says. “Make sure you don’t run. All it’ll do is add to the oxygen and feed the fire.”

“Okay,” you say. “…I still don’t like you.”

You swear you can hear the smile in his words. “I know.” 

-

You wake up when the smoke alarm goes off. 

It’s a very rude awakening. It jolts you out of your very uneasy sleep to unfamiliar surroundings—in your disoriented state, you almost forget where you are. 

Right. You’re in a safe house in the middle of nowhere because someone is stalking you. How could you possibly forget?

You stumble out of bed, rubbing your eyes to try and assuage some of your exhaustion as you leave your room. 

“Is the place on fire?” you ask through a yawn. 

“No!” Spencer exclaims, sounding more panicked than usual. That straightens your back and speeds your pace. “No, everything’s fine—” 

You smell smoke, and as you come around the corner, you see him waving his hands overtop the toaster trying to dispel said smoke. You can’t help but laugh, and you actually smile when he gives you the most helpless look. 

“I’m so good at so many other things.”

“What are you trying to do?” you ask wryly. “Burn this house down to try and get a better one?” 

“This wouldn’t have started a fire,” Spencer says. “Toaster fires usually spread because they’re below wooden cupboards, which catch easily and spread everywhere else.” He gestures at the toaster, which he has plugged in to an outlet on the side of the island. “No cupboards, no house fire.”

“You started this because you were making toast?” you ask. 

He flushes. “I’m used to the toaster I have at home. I have the settings worked out perfectly there. This one is all wrong.” 

You sigh and shake your head. “Just… hit the reset button, and open the door. It’ll be fine.” 

“I can’t open the door,” he says. “It goes against the safety thing.”

“Then open a window.”

“Making it easier to get in here in any way goes against the safety thing,” he says. 

“So we have to just deal with the smoke?” you ask in exasperation. 

Spencer hits the vent button on the microwave, and the fan whirs into action. “No?”

You shake your head in disbelief as he then reaches up to hit the button on the smoke alarm. His t-shirt lifts with the movement—your eyes drift to the bare strip of skin, and you immediately look away when you realize. 

“Where’s the coffee in here?” you ask, clearing your throat as you start sifting through drawers. “I’ll be even worse to deal with if I don’t have caffeine.” 

“I already brewed a fresh pot,” Spencer says, gesturing with his head. “Half and half is in the fridge, and sugar is in the cabinet.” 

“Oh,” you say. You stop what you’re doing, your hands lingering above the drawer handle. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

You see him shrug out of your peripherals. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Because I was a total asshole to you last night, you want to say. Because I’ve been awful to you since I met you and you refuse to fight back and give me a better reason to hate you. 

“Because you didn’t need to,” you finally say. Good one. 

“I did. So you’re going to have to deal with it.” Spencer takes the burnt toast out and throws them in the trash can, talking while he does it. “You know, it’s actually a rumor that burnt toast contains carcinogens and can increase the chance of cancer. Acrylamide forms when you burn food, but researchers haven’t found a link between starchy foods with high amounts of acrylamide and cancer.” 

You hum in some form of acknowledgement as you take a mug out of the cabinet and fill it from the pot. You take a sip and grimace—it’s not the best, but it’s caffeinated. After three years of shitty gas station coffee throughout college, you can deal with it. 

“How did you sleep?” Spencer asks. 

“Fine,” you say. 

He frowns. “Really?” 

“Yes,” you say, a little rougher. “The dark circles come with the model.” 

“There are a lot of causes other than sleep deprivation,” Spencer says. “Contact dermatitis, hyperpigmentation, dehydration, alcoholism, stress—” 

“Got plenty of that,” you interrupt. 

“Even genetics can play a part in it,” he says. 

You huff. “I think this is one thing I can’t blame my dad for. I haven’t slept since the nineties.”

“Well, you should try,” Spencer says. “The blood vessels around your eyes don’t constrict like they should when you’re sleep deprived, which means your blood vessels dilate, which increases blood in the area, and that gives you dark circles.”

“Wow,” you say wryly. “I really look that bad with them?” 

“I— that—” Spencer’s face flushes red as he stutters, and you hide the slightest smile with your mug— “that’s not what I mean! I’m just trying to give advice to help—” 

“I know.” You set your mug back down, not able to fully bite back your amusement. “I was joking, Spencer.” 

“Oh,” he says. “That’s… new.” 

“Am I not allowed to joke?” 

“It just doesn’t seem like you,” Spencer says. “Especially after last night.” 

“I’m too tired to fight with you right now,” you sigh. “Enjoy your break.” 

He clears his throat as he takes two fresh pieces of bread out, then looks at your mug. “You drink it black?” 

“It’s not coffee if you don’t,” you say. “It— it’s a sugary mess.” 

“It is not!” he exclaims. “It still has the same amount of caffeine, and it’s still coffee—” 

“No it isn’t!” you laugh, and you nod at his mug. “How much sugar did you put in there?” 

“A couple spoonfuls but—” 

“Spoonfuls?”

“But it’s how I like it!” Spencer defends. 

“Don’t you have some facts about how harmful excessive sugar consumption is?” you ask. 

“Of course I do,” he says. “I also have some about the benefits of black coffee, but I’m not going to tell you now.”

“Wow,” you say. “I’m so hurt.” 

He shakes his head as he slots two more pieces of bread into the toaster. “And to think, I was trying to make breakfast for you.” 

Again, that gives you pause. Why does he keep trying to do nice things for you?” 

“Don’t bother.” You pick up your mug and go into the living room. “I don’t really eat breakfast anyways.” 

“That’s not healthy,” he calls after you. 

“Most things I do aren’t,” you respond. “What’s on the agenda today?” 

“Skipping breakfast puts you at a higher chance of heart disease,” he says. 

“Then I guess we won’t have to worry about the spontaneous combustion, will we?” You look back at him. “What’s on the agenda?” 

Spencer sighs. He’s given up momentarily, it seems. “Gideon’s going to call me in thirty-two minutes for an update. The whole team has been focusing solely on your case.” 

You perk up. The coffee warms your hands through the mug but it doesn’t fully assuage the chill down your spine. 

“Do they have any leads?” 

“I don’t know,” Spencer says. “Gideon hasn’t called me yet.” 

You roll your eyes. “Do you think they have any leads?” 

“Maybe.” The toaster pops and he pulls the bread out, then starts buttering it—or trying to. His brow knots in annoyance at the stick of butter, still hard, and he pushes his glasses up with his free hand. You have to look away. “Like I said, Gideon helped start the BAU. He’s solved more cases than anyone else, and,” you feel his eyes on you, “it’s personal this time. He’s probably working around the clock.” 

“Just have to hope they get somewhere,” you murmur. Your coffee tastes even more bitter than  usual, but you drink it anyway. 

“They will,” Spencer says. “I promise.” 

“Y’know, people keep making promises they can’t keep,” you say. “I’m getting real tired of it.” 

“Well, I’m not leaving your side until they do,” he says. “And I’m going to keep you safe. So consider that promise kept.” 

“Great,” you say. “I’m stuck with you until I die or this is solved.” 

“You’re not going to die.” 

“You don’t have to take everything I say so seriously.” 

“Then don’t say everything so seriously.” 

You huff a laugh and shake your head. Spencer comes over with his plate of messily buttered toast—not very easy with fully solid sticks of butter—and sits down across from you. He holds the plate out. 

“Want one?” 

“I told you, I don’t eat breakfast.” 

“You should.” 

“Because one piece of toast will make so much of a difference,” you mock. 

“It will,” he says. “Maybe it’ll even make you happier.” 

You roll your eyes and drink more of your coffee. “Are you going to bother me all day like this?” 

Spencer took a bite of toast then shrugged. “If you’re this blase about everything relating to your health, then yes.” 

You groan as you stand up. “It’s too early to deal with you. See you in a few hours.” 

“And good morning to you too,” Spencer says wryly. You make a parting gesture with your hand in response. 

It’s been a day and a half, and not only have you argued with him twice, but he still refuses to give you anything to work with, still insists on trying to be there for you. It’s as infuriating as it is gratingly admirable. Anyone else probably would have tried to kill you by now. 

Well, you’ve already got a stalker trying to do that. 

You sigh and down half your coffee. You’ve got a long day ahead of you. 

-

Spencer doesn’t know why you not liking him bothers him so much. 

It’s illogical, but it makes sense for you. Your dad spends more time with him than he does with you, and you’re projecting your hatred for Gideon onto Spencer. Whatever. 

But it’s not just whatever, and that irks him. 

This is an assignment, simple as that. Gideon trusted him enough to put you under his protection, even if it’s for your mental health more so than your physical. It should be a point of pride, being chosen for something like this by someone like Gideon.

Spencer presses his fingers against his temple. You’re a lot, there’s no way around it. But you also claim to hate him, and he knows that’s not true. 

Yes, you argue with him. Yes, you’re short with him. Yes, he lost his temper momentarily because not even Spencer is capable of endless grace. 

But he also sees your moments of lightness throughout it all. Your brief smiles, the quips that lean towards jokes more than insults—and he notices your eyes, and the brightness that breaks through on occasion. 

He always notices your eyes.

Spencer’s phone rings in his pocket, jolting him out of whatever reverie he found himself in. He pulls it out and flips it open, then presses it to his ear. “Gideon?” 

“Reid,” he greets. “How are you doing?”

“Fine,” he says. “You’re calling twenty-four minutes early.”

“We just finished a briefing,” Gideon says. “I wanted to get word to you as soon as possible.” 

Spencer sits up. “What is it?” 

“Morgan, Hotch, and Garcia have been working together to comb through my past cases and see what they’re up to now. They finally found a potential unsub,” he says. “Someone I put away a decade ago was released last year, and recent records indicate he’s back in the area.” 

“Who is it?” he asks. 

“Adam Hernandez. Also known as—” 

“The Stafford Strangler,” Spencer finishes. “He killed three people in two weeks in the 90s—classic spree killer. You caught him with David Rossi’s help.” 

“Released on good behavior, despite the victims’ families campaigning against it,” Gideon says. “You know it?” 

“Obviously,” he says. “I’ve read all of your old case files.”

Gideon chuckles, and he can almost imagine him shaking his head. “Of course you have.”

“Do you think Hernandez is your guy?” Spencer asks. 

“I’m not sure yet,” Gideon says. “We applied for a warrant—as soon as we get it, Morgan and Elle are heading his way to ask a few questions.” 

“You think he’d do something like this?” Spencer shifts his position as he frowns. “Hernandez got fired, lost his house, then went off the deep end. He killed because he didn’t see any other solution. The guy going after your daughter is a lot more emotional about all this, and—” his throat feels dry all of a sudden— “and it’s like he’s got some kind of attraction to her.” 

“You don’t need to remind me,” Gideon says roughly. “We’re going for leads where we can, and we’re still working every other angle. It doesn’t end with Hernandez.”

“...Good,” Spencer says. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help from here.” 

“You’re already doing everything I need you to do.” Gideon pauses, and he hears the creak of the chair in his office as he adjusts how he’s sitting. “How is my daughter doing?” 

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “Her mood changes with the wind. One second she’s trying to start a fight with me, the next she’s trying to joke around with me. It— it’s a lot, I won’t lie.” 

“But how is she handling all of this?” he asks. “Staying in the safe house, dealing with a stalker, feeling like a sitting duck.”

“Very cynically,” Spencer says. “She keeps talking about dying or getting killed.”

Gideon sighs. “That sounds like her.” 

“She’s… she’s mad at you, mostly.” Spencer picks at a hangnail, ignoring the sharp, temporary pain. “Every time I bring you up, it lights a fuse. You’re the one thing she hates to talk about.” 

There’s nothing but silence on the other end. 

“Gideon?” he asks. “Did I lose—” 

“I’m here,” he interrupts. “Just… thinking.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Spencer says. “She’s—” 

“It is my fault,” Gideon interrupts again. “Has she told you much about her younger life?” 

“...Some,” Spencer says. 

“Like?” 

Spencer doesn’t really know what to say. He doesn’t want to just tell Gideon that you’ve told him he’s been an awful dad. That it’s really all you’ve told him. 

“You can say it, Reid,” Gideon says. “I won’t get mad.” 

“...She says you’ve missed out on her whole life,” Spencer finally says, notably quieter. “Her high school graduation, her college graduation— most of the stuff that happened in college, actually.” 

Gideon lets out a rough sigh. “I’ll always regret it.” 

“So it’s true?” Spencer asks. He’s surprised at the sharpness of his voice.  

“I don’t get to control when cases come in,” he says. 

“We’re a whole team of qualified agents,” Spencer says. “We— we always have been. Especially when you and Rossi were together. It was like the golden age of profilers.” 

“Spencer—” 

“You made it to my graduation!” he interrupts. “You were there for my chemistry PhD, and you said you would be there when I get my philosophy degree, but you couldn’t make it for your only child’s high school and college graduations?” 

“I already told you I regret it,” Gideon says. His voice is as calm as ever, and for some reason, that irks Spencer even more. “What more can I say? It’s in the past now. I can’t change what I did.”

Spencer stares at the wall. He doesn’t know why this is such a damning thing to him. 

His own dad has missed all of his graduations. He’s missed almost every part of his life. But his dad walked out—he wanted nothing to do with Spencer or his mom. 

Your dad is right here. Gideon is still around, working every day to save lives and change the world and take down monsters—but he’s still not there for you. 

He’s so close and yet he always steps out of your reach. 

“Spencer.” Gideon’s voice is tinny through the speaker, and he presses his phone back against his ear. 

“Call me back the second you get another lead,” Spencer mutters. 

He hangs up without another word. 

[kammazi]

★ katsuki and yourself weren’t big drinkers. sure after you two had graduated, you had gone to a few parties here and there but you were never a fan of the whole spinning dizzy feeling that alcohol brought with it, especially since you two are heroes. patrolling while hungover under the heat of the hot summer sun was dreadful.

so when you get a call from katsuki one evening while you were on patrol saying how kirishimas and the rest of the guys were going out for a few, who were you to say no? even though you knew the invitation for yourself always stood, katsuki needed some time for himself and by the time you would get off patrol it would already be past midnight.

so after exchanging some ‘i love you’s’, you disconnected the call and got back to whatever strolling you were doing.

and as the night went on you got more and more notifications that buzzed in your back pocket from who you assumed was your boyfriend. you eventually had a quick break and chugged an energy drink while fishing for your phone.

you let out a snort of laughter and looked around to make sure no one heard you before looking back down at your screen. there you saw multiple pictures took by denki of him standing on what you assumed was a stool while taking 0.5 picture’s of katsuki. what made you laugh even more was his flushed face and droopy eyes that held no fight in them as he stood there with his hands by his sides.

you could tell that he had drank quite a bit and as your break came to an end you had a short two hours left of your shift before you were able to finally get home and most likely take care of your said boyfriend.

and you were correct because as soon as you even such as stepped in through the doors of your shared apartment your phone once again started buzzing, this time it was a call.

“hello?” there was a shuffling noise before shouting hit your eardrums along with the music that blasted in the background.

“HEYY LOOK, ARE YOU-” you grimaced as you hear a glass breaking alongside some yelling. “huh? hello?”

the phone was picked back up. “THIS IS KIRISHIMA, KATSUKI IS KINDA REALLY DRUNK AND-” you then heard a whooshing sound and another crash. you stood there looking at your phone and then brining it close to your ear again. “uhh..kiri..shima?”

you heard the phone being picked up and panting into the microphone. “SORRY I JUST LAUNCHED MY PHONE HALFWAY ACROSS THE DANCE FLOOR AND IT HIT SOMEONE IN THE FACE.” you had to physically distance yourself from the phone before answering.

“kiri you don’t have to yell i can hear you!” you felt as if it was a screaming competition at that point. you heard a cackle before kirishimas finally got to the point.

“sorry, sorry! it’s just that bakubro got hella drunk and he’s kinda unmovable right now. he keeps saying your name and won’t really listen to anyone, would it be alright if you could come and pick him up?”

you were already picking up your keys and sliding on your shoes. “of course, be there in five.”

and so here you were pulling into the parking spot outside of the front doors of the building.

as you stepped in, you already felt exhaustion hitting you as you strolled around to try and find your boyfriend and those goons.

and then you saw him, sitting in a corner seat, with a cute sleepy look on his face, arms still crossed as always. kneeling in front of him, you saw denki, sero and kiri sitting across as they helped gather his stuff. you placed a palm against his face and patted his knee with the other.

“kats, love?” he groaned and slightly opened his eyes. “hey i’m gonna take you home okay?” and then suddenly, he moves his face away from your hand as his face held something like a mix of disgust and offence.

“get those damn hands away from me. i’ve a girlfriend.” although his speech was slurred you blinked before letting out a chuckle as the guys behind you hollered and stumbled over eachother.

you raised a brow, amused to see him act that way. “oh really? sorry about that kats, i won’t do it again.” his face whipped around to face you as he grimaced again. “oi. don’t call me that. only she can and you ain’t her.. so back off...” his sentence held no malicious intent as his head slowly tipped back. “where is she. i miss her.”

kirishima then came up next to you and patted his back. “bro shes right here! see?” in response to his words, katsuki raised his head and squinted at you for a while before slowly smiling. “heyy it’s my girlfriend.” immediately his head landed on your shoulder. he started babbling as he wrapped his arms around your frame, almost knocking you to the floor from the sudden weight. in the meantime, you glanced at his red headed friend.

“i’m sorry how much did he drink?” in response he scratched the back of his neck before holding up three fingers. “JESUS KIRI THREE BOTTLES?” kirishimas shook his head before cackling. “three drinks.”

now you knew your boyfriend was a lightweight but this was a tad too funny to you, not that you would ever tell him.. obviously.

with the help of kirishima, you managed to walk out a stumbling katsuki and just about sat him in the passenger seat before strapping him in as he babbled on about how much he missed you. sero and denki handed over his wallet and phone to you and you thanked them before saying your goodbyes as you sat behind the wheel.

on the drive back katsuki acted like he hadn’t seen you in months by the way he held your hand and kissed it every two seconds. with him telling you how much he loved you and how beautiful you where. in that moment you could not only feel somewhat giddy but be thankful for having this man in your life. no matter how tough he looked or acted, it really was true that he was a softy, drunk or not.

after arriving, getting him into bed wasn’t even a problem. he listened to your every word as he clung to you like a koala. you helped him brush his teeth on the toilet seat as you sat on his lap. even while drunk, his grip was still firm but gentle.

you then got him changed, him getting stuck in his t-shirt a few times, and you both finally climbed into bed. there was pure silence other that his quiet snores as he rested on your chest. as expected, he ended up passing out the second he wrapped his arms around you.

as you pressed a kiss on his forehead, you could once again feel the wave of exhaustion crashing over you as the warm pressure of katsuki’s body lulled you to sleep.

and in the morning katsuki awoke with not only a headache but also a lovely picture of his drunken state as a 0.5 printed and framed photo hanging in the living room as a forever reminder of that night.

[sturnmeovr]

♡‧₊˚ Babydaddy!Chris x Sweetheart!Reader - Indecisive

Your grip firm on the handle of your babydaddy’s passenger door, you take a deep breath before pulling it open, the thick scent of black ice mixed with a hint of weed wafts over you, nearly making you lightheaded. Your face crunching in disgust, “have you been smoking?” you ask him before dipping down into the passenger. Chris sits reclined back in his seat, one hand on the steering wheel, and his elbow propped up on the center console, “what – no!” he spits out defensively.

You knew he was lying; he was quick the lie. You decided to bite your tongue for the sake of what you were about to tell him. The next topic of conversation would ruin his night, much like the topic of him texting another girl behind your back that played like a broken record in your head, ruining every night and day for you since you found out. You crack the car window a bit, “I don't care,” muttering before turning to Chris with slumped shoulders, “just make sure you don’t do it around Bear when he gets here.”

A gummy smile makes its way across his face, “you took my name suggestion,” he coos, reaching a hand out to smooth over your belly, your son making sure to kick as soon as he feels Chris’ hand. As much as you missed the comfortability of being around Chris, you weren’t ready to go back home with him, seeing him every day would just cause you more heartache. Seeing his car parked outside of your best friend's house everyday like clockwork already hurt enough. Your pregnancy hormones were raging, and you were more emotional than you had ever been. 

You blink away tears, giving him a toothless smile, “I really like it. It’s fitting,” you tell me, looking down at his hand still placed on your belly. It was bittersweet, Bear wasn’t even here, and he made it known he missed Chris almost more than you did. Chris lets out a chuckle, feeling the light kicks against his hand, “yeah?” he questions, looking up at you, those icy blue eyes burning deep holes into your figure, “can’t wait ‘til you're back home.” Your smile fades at his words, telling all that was needed to be told. Chris’ face crunches in confusion which ultimately makes you continue, “that’s uhrm — that’s kinda why I wanted to talk to you,” you chime in, looking away from his intense gaze. His eyes alone would make you crack under pressure any second, giving into whatever his wishes were, which is why you stayed as far away as you could. Chris was a dangerous type of man.

He clears his throat, “what is it?” looking back down at your baby bump like he’s reluctant to pull away. He missed the little butterfly kicks from his son almost as much as he missed seeing you waddle around the house with a jar of jiffy peanut butter in one hand and a spoon in the other. He sported bloodshot eyes, you couldn't tell if it was due to lack of sleep or if he was smoking too much weed, the dark bags underneath of them didn’t do him any justice either. Pressing your lips together, you didn’t want to tell him, but you knew it had to be done, “I think I might stay here for a little while longer — I’m not sure how much longer,” your voice comes out small and brittle, like it could break at any moment.

“Sweetheart,” he starts, emotion lies thick in his voice, “wha – what do you mean?” his Boston accent peeking thru subtly. Tears fill his eyes to the brim, and you watch as he blinks them back, scrunching his face before letting a stray tear stain his cheek. He quickly wipes it, looking out the front windshield like he's trying his hardest to find his next words. Staying strong was so hard when Chris was on the verge of an emotional breakdown in front of your very eyes. You had a soft spot for him, and you feared it wasn't going away anytime soon. It took all of you to not crawl into his lap, run your fingers thru his brown locks, and pepper his face with kisses while he cried into your chest. He was a ray of sunshine; seeing him sad was heartbreaking. You couldn’t help but wonder if he really felt as bad as you did or was it all an act to get you to come back home to him. Either way, his emotional state left you feeling gutted – just like the revelation of him cheating made you feel. 

Chris sniffles, making you pick your head up to look at him, “you don’t want to be with me anymore?” The question that had been running loops thru your mind the last three weeks. Did you want to be with Chris? Of course you did. That wasn’t up for debate. The real question was - could you go back to normal with Chris, raising a newborn without dwelling on the fact that he cheated on you? You couldn’t say for sure.

“I didn’t say that,” you croak out, tangling a hand in your hair. You let out a breathy sigh as your hand drops to your bump, “I just need more time, m’sorry, Chris.” Bear was going backflips at the sound of his dad's voice, or maybe it was your emotions doing the work. A light scoff, filled with hurt leaves his lips, “I’ve been giving you time. It’s been weeks,” he says, tugging another hand thru his hair as he looks at you, biting on his bottom lip to keep it from quivering. 

His sad puppy dog eyes are too heart wrenching for you to handle, so you look away. “I know that, but you’ve been parked out here every day,” you tell him, letting out another sigh. He’d never understand the turmoil and pain he caused you. He’d never understand that you’d never forget what he did. You were at your most vulnerable state, your body was going thru so many changes, you were constantly nauseous or vomiting, and you were keeping your pregnancy from the world. Regardless if Chris only had one conversation with another like he claimed, it hurt, and you didn’t deserve it. 

“M’sorry — I miss you, I don’t know,” he blurts out, turning his body towards you to show you have this full attention, “Bears gonna be here soon and I don’t want anything happening while we’re apart.” You don’t dare to look at him until he places a hand on your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. His touch sends tingles up your spine, as touch starved as you were. You missed his touch more than anything, “I just want to go back to normal; to us. you’re pregnant and —.” His hoarse voice getting cut off by yours, “exactly, Chris — I’m pregnant.”

Tears sting your eyes, a few escaping as you attempt to fan them away. Chris hangs his head low, and you can see his tears make water marks on the center console, “I fucked up, I know,” he manages, the words getting stuck his throat a bit, “I can make it better – I promise I will.” 

You were at a crossroads. You didn’t know if you could believe him, you couldn’t trust him after all. You couldn’t trust the person you created a life with; it was crazy to think. The thought makes you lose control of your emotions. The waterworks start and light sobs leave your lips as Chris pulls you into a tight embrace, rubbing his hand up and down your back in a soothing manner. His own tears soaking a wet patch into your hair, you can feel his chest rise up and down as he breathes staggered breaths. It was comforting in a way; the person who caused all your pain cared enough to console you, he cared enough to cry with you.

“Jus’ please come home,” Chris hiccups, making sure to keep his grip tight on you, “I’ll sleep on the couch. I can fix it, okay? Jus’ let me fix this,” he rambles on as he smooths your hair down with the palm of his hand, repeatedly pressing light kisses to your temple as your sobs fade out. 

You pull away from Chris, tugging your sleeves over your hands and bring them up to your face to collect the leftover tears, “I don’t want — want Bear to grow up in a split up home.” The thought of having to coparent instead of having your son grow up with two active parents who love each other, and him, chokes you up. You and Chris both had two married parents who raised you, it wasn't fair that you son might not get that before he was even born. You fail to keep your composure, sob erupting from your chest, “but I don’t see us working if you can’t change your act.”

Wc - 1499

♡‧₊˚ Cheys Note - Big thanks to everyone who helped me reach 600 followers!! I love every single one of you so, so, sooo much!🥲🥰 I changed my handle, no longer m00nl1ghts1vt - I am now sturnmeovr! You guys are eating these angsts up and I'm not mad at you😋🫣 I made this one a bit longer, sorry about the delay! Send me asks or suggestions about Babydaddy!Chris & Sweetheart! <3

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[georgeclarkeys]

knight in shining armor - chrismd x reader

summary: you receive some unwanted attention at your daughter's football match - 900 words

taking a small break from my tiktok series, and i have been obsessed with the idea of football dad chris recently. i kinda love this dynamic, let me know what y'all think. i'm considering turning this into a little mini series type thing as well, so if you want to see more girl dad chris with his little star athlete you might be in luck :)

hope y'all don't hate it!

~

The summer sun was heating up, causing a warm afternoon on the football pitch. Per usual it was mass chaos around you, kids crying, footballs flying, and parents getting a bit too mouthy with the teenage referees. You held your daughter Eleanor by the hand, leading her through the mayhem to find her team. Her long blonde braids were swishing behind her head, and the beaming smile on her face as she took in her surroundings let you know that she was in her element. 

Eleanor was currently the captain of her team, and in the lead with most goals on the season. When people watched her play, they were astonished by the skills the young girl possessed, but when they realized her dad was ChrisMD, it all seemed to make sense. 

You spotted a small cluster of baby blue uniforms, and pointed them out to your daughter, allowing her to run off and join her team. Making your way to the stands, you reminded yourself to save a spot for Chris. He had a meeting this morning on the other side of the city, so he would be running late for the match. 

As you found your seat, you noticed a man watching you. He was raking his eyes up and down your form, taking in the baby blue athletic dress you had worn to match your daughters uniform. You ignored him, thankful that your designer sunglasses shielded your eyes from his unwanted gaze. 

You returned your attention to the team warm up, watching your daughters clean passes and sharp dribbles that made your heart swell with pride. She turned towards the stands and met your eyes, sending you a big smile and a small wave. 

The man who was watching you took notice of your interaction, and must have decided it was the perfect way to start a conversation. You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he stood up and slid into the seat next to you, the one that you had been saving for Chris. 

Your heartbeat quickened with anxiety as he spoke to you, “is that one yours?” He asked, pointing towards Eleanor. “She seems like quite the player.”

Your face held a nervous smile, “Yeah she’s mine. Her dad taught her everything she knows.”

You subtly shifted your left hand into view, trying to show off the massive diamond wedding ring on your finger, but the man didn’t seem to notice. 

“Mine’s on the other team,” he boasted, pointing to a tall girl in a black uniform, “she can be a bit mean on the pitch but she’s leading her team in goals.”

You quirked an eyebrow, “My daughter is-” he cut you off and shifted to look straight at you before you could continue.

“So are you and her dad together? Because you caught my eye as soon as I saw-”

Almost in retribution, someone clears their throat behind you, cutting him off before he can finish. You turn and sigh in relief as you see that Chris has come to your rescue. His face is a picture of barely contained rage as he takes in the man sitting entirely too close to his wife. 

“Hey mate,” he says with a seething smile, “I believe you’re in my seat.”

The man is a picture of arrogance as he turns around, until he makes eye contact with Chris. You watch the mans eyes widen and jaw slightly drop before he says, “you’re ChrisMD.”

“And you’re way too close to my wife.”

“W-wife?” The man turned to look at you.

You plastered a tight smile onto your face, and brought up your left hand, wiggling your ringed finger.

“I’ll--I’m--Uh, I’m just gonna-” he stumbles over his words as he gets up and moves back to the other side of the stands. The mans eyes are glued onto the pitch, and his cheeks are slightly red from embarrassment. 

You look over at Chris as he slides into the seat next to you, “hey gorgeous, sorry I’m late.” He curls an arm around your waist and pulls you into his side, placing a soft kiss on your temple. 

You place your hand on his knee and give him a sweet smile, “my knight in shining armor.”

He leans back to gaze at you, “If I was sad an single at a children’s football match I would come and flirt with you too. You’re looking absolutely stunning, babe.”

You roll your eyes, but can’t stop ths smile on your face, “Save the flirting for after Elly’s bedtime.”

He quirks an eyebrow at you, but the whistle signals the start of the match before he can quip back. Chris’s head snaps towards the pitch, finding his blonde football star immediately. 

He stand’s up and claps his hands together, yelling out a “Let’s go Elly!” You know it embarrasses your daughter, but it also let’s her know that her dad is in the stands; she always plays harder when she knows her dad is watching.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟlater that evening

yourusername posted a story!

[satoruhour]

Just thought of something FREAKY in class… Single father Satoru looking for a babysitter and you’re looking for a side income during semester break and the tension goes crazy!!!! “We should’t be doing this my son will wake up” I’M GONNA SCREAMMMM

BLISS, PURE BLISS

a/n: happy new year LMFAOOO. thank you for all the asks btw i promise ill answer them asap 🥹 / @shotorus @osaemu @shidouryusm @mysugu @hyomagiri ♱

wc: 6.4k

warnings: ‘onee-san’ used but more of just addressing reader as an older figure because saying babysitter is kinda weird lol (kind of like how chinese people use 姐姐 even if they are not related), fem!reader, dilf!gojo, age gap (gojo in his late 30s, reader in mid-20s), angst if u squint, bit of slow burn n tension, making out, use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, praise, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, p -> v sex, multiple rounds, consensual filming, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

“no fucking way . .” you mumble mostly to yourself, standing in front of the largest house of the gated community in roppongi, and while you knew the people here were excessively and obnoxiously rich, you’re never quite prepared until you’re getting a key card specifically mailed to your name just so you could enter.

you’re not even shameful when you take a video to send to your best friends, locking your screen almost immediately because you knew you’d never get to the job on time if you replied to them. with calculated steps, you’re walking up the house that’s designed with a modern structure, yet still retaining characteristics of a traditional japanese home. it’s less prominent at the front of the house, though.

“(y/n)-san, was it?” a voice startles you out of your ogling sessions. if the garden was already this nice, what would be in store for you when you went in? you’ll be finding out soon when your employer himself opens the door to you, a man with striking white hair and equally striking blue eyes that seem to look right into you. he’s dressed in a suit, probably no doubt ready to get to work while you’re out here taking your time. you cringe, immediately walking up to the door.

“y-yes! yes, i’m sorry sir, i was just uhm—”

he holds that intimidating stare just for a moment but then he breaks into a smile that mirrors the bright sun that shines down on the porch.

“it’s alright . . it’s not everyday you’re working at some rich guy’s house, right?” he jokes but that strikes a little ick into you — he’s already ticking the boxes of obnoxious and excessively rich, but you hate the effect he’s having on you.

“yeah . . no, i guess,” he hums in reply before sticking a hand out.

“gojo satoru,” he introduces himself, “call me anything but that sir shit, alright, doll?”

you nod obediently, trying not to let the little pet name get to your head because he probably does this to any babysitter who comes through the house, but either way, he’s welcoming you in and it’s like you step into a world unreal. it’s spotless, the floors shining under the sunlight, a large television in the living room, a spacious open concept dining-kitchen area, and this is just the first floor.

gojo takes his time to show you the house — where his kid’s toys were, where the food was, where the bathrooms and bedrooms were, it was never-ending. every step you took made you feel like you were walking the length of the nile, each turn only revealing more rooms and corridors.

and then, finally, his baby boy.

“he’s a cheeky one, takes after his dad,” even with all the cockiness he’s shown to you, you can tell he has a soft spot for his kid. the boy stirs from his father’s voice, gleaming in happiness as he puts out his smaller hands to be picked up. as he settles into his arms, it’s just sinking in how tall your employer is. he makes a toddler look like a baby with how small his son looks wrapped snugly.

“satoshi, hi,” he whispers, bouncing the kid in his arms, “want to say hi to your onee-san?”

you manage a small wave but all he does is turn to hide in his father’s arms, definitely scared from a random stranger suddenly talking to him.

“she’s going to be taking care of you for the next month or so, you know?” he mumbles, brushing a hand through the matching white hair, “be nice to the babysitter, okay?”

all satoshi does is hum into his dad’s neck before he’s giving you a sheepish smile. “he’s like that, don’t worry about him.” and you return the smile, thinking that he wasn’t that obnoxious that you thought and that maybe he’s really a dad trying his hardest for his one kid. you realise he’s taking too much time, though, and so you sought out to remind him.

“oh, uh sir— gojo-san, don’t you have to go to work?”

although he’s mentioned satoshi to be taking after him, the boy goes right back to sleeping when he’s put back into his bed so you follow gojo as he adjusts his cuffs and smoothes out his collar just outside the room and you make the mistake of glancing upon the mirror on the far end of the corridor — it was undeniable that you looked like a high-end couple who’s newly married and raising a kid. you try to shake off the thoughts of adjusting his tie for him.

“it’s not being late if you’re on top.” he smirks and you resist the urge to roll your eyes; at least you weren’t alone in purging the delusional thoughts from your head, he was basically helping you at this point and you struggle between characterising him as conceited and admirable. “but, yeah, i should get going.”

but he stands at the door with backpack slung onto one shoulder while he continues to explain satoshi’s routines to you, his habits and also had to sneak in a few cute photos of the kid while squealing repeatedly and you’re left wondering how this guy could be the CEO of a company.

it’s been like that for as long as you can remember — bidding goodbye to your parents as you tell them that you’re off to your part-time job over the winter break. they’re happy you’re even leaving the house, shoving your lunch into your hands with big smiles that you’re at least doing anything other than sitting in your room. the train ride to the gated residential was nice, too, apart from the very crowded subways for people going to work in roppongi.

gojo greets you every morning when you arrive, reminding you of satoshi’s feeding times and his favourite shows and everything a father should know but don’t have the luxury to experience with aforementioned kid. it’s a little bittersweet, every time you see him kiss satoshi goodbye that turns into remaining in his room, to holding your hand and saying goodbye to daddy from the second floor, to getting carried by you at the front door.

it’s slow but sure progress day after day, from watching his cartoons, feeding him at the kitchen island, playing with his toys, that satoshi feels more and more comfortable with you, learning that while he was a well-behaved boy, he definitely had hints of your employer in him. mannerisms, words, voice, you wonder whether he even got any part of his mother in his genes.

you’d never ask, though, but it was told. unexpectedly.

“i’m home—” the last parts of his word die down into a whisper when he opens the door to see satoshi cuddled up to you, the last bits of home alone playing softly. by now you already know what happens in the movie so you’re texting your friends and laughing softly to yourself, jumping when your boss steps past the doorway. gojo winces when he checks his watch (“fuck. it’s already ten.”), toeing his shoes off and apologising simultaneously.

“oh— man, i’m so sorry, i had a late meeting with the CEO of our neighbouring franchise, i totally forgot about the time—” gojo’s quick to make his way down to the small pit of the house (he likes to call it the conversation pit), settling down on the side where satoshi had his head in your lap as his eyes linger on the movie. instinctively, his hands reach to pat his leg.

“oh, it’s okay, gojo-san, it’s the holidays anyway.”

“yeah?” he turns to you, one arm propped on the back of the sofa, “and why don’t a pretty girl like you have any plans?”

that catches you off-guard, among the many other times he’s called you pretty or sweets like no care in the world. you’re never quite used to it, too, seeking to fluster you. “you shouldn’t say stuff like that to me, gojo-san . .”

“why not?” he’s turned back to the television, now, and you take his place, staring at his side profile as the scenes of the movie move along his face. “i’m a single dad, aren’t i?”

“yeah but . . you could have anyone.”

“what if,” he turns and you chicken out, head snapping back to the front while he watches you and the both of you cannot deny the tiring dance you perform around each other all the time. the clench in his heart when he sees you carry his baby boy at the porch and the small smile he gives you every morning before he leaves for his job. he doesn’t want to go through with it and sighs.

it’s become hard to breathe around you. it’s become hard to hold himself back around you.

“i worked too much.” he suddenly says, facing the TV again. “i was too engrossed and . .”

confusion seeps in at first. yeah, it was no secret he worked his ass off despite being at the very top. your gaze falls to satoshi, curling more into your side like he’s cold and you adjust the blanket. you nod in recognition.

“we fought a lot. i tried— i tried to alter my schedule as much as i could, driving to and fro whenever she needed me, bringing satoshi to work as a baby when we couldn’t come to a compromise, but it was a lot. for her, for satoshi. he could sense whenever we were about to fight, on edge voices, items clattering to the floor . .”

by now, he’s leaned back, back of his hand resting on his forehead, “and he’d cry like he was interrupting us. cheeky, i told you,” and his eyes close, “we hardly reached middle ground. it was either this or that, hire a nanny or we take care of him, my endless job or the joy of life. i’m ashamed that i’ve prioritised my job more, and still do it now.”

“if you didn’t, i wouldn’t be here, would i?”

that draws a chuckle out of him, “correct.”

“she couldn’t take it, not when she was a businesswoman on top of that. she was out doing herself at every aspect in her job, going to greater heights, and while she accused me of putting work first, she isn’t entirely innocent, either. but that’s . .”

“you don’t have to say anything, gojo-san,” you mumble as you watch the reunion of the characters in the movie before the screen cuts the black, no doubt affecting him in some way at the warmth displayed by the movie that contrasts heavily with his situation, “the fact that you even told me is . .”

the heavy atmosphere is disrupted by satoshi gasping, “papa! you’re home.”

you exchange awkward smiles as you watch the boy fight his way out of the blanket to hug gojo, the latter huffing when the boy drops his body weight on him and you take it as a sign to give them a bit of privacy, standing up to clean up the popcorn and cups. laughter and your employer’s voice resonate throughout the place even as they go up the stairs, a rare occasion where gojo is able to get his son ready for bed.

it’s only maybe an hour later when the house falls into silence. mouth burning from the mouthwash, the heater in satoshi’s room turned to a high setting, one bedtime story was read (which, he fell asleep halfway), the boy was out like a light. you felt it inappropriate to leave without at least saying goodbye, but you also didn’t want to cut into their time together; at least, that’s what you told yourself.

so you waited with your things on the kitchen island, getting a risky text just as gojo comes down, still in his suit from work.

[11:02pm, nobara -> you] BITCH GET THAT DICKKKKK!!!!!!! 

and you yelp softly, slamming your phone down onto his marble counter. thankfully, he doesn’t notice, eyes close to shutting from fatigue. 

“oh, shit, you’re still here?”

“i thought it would be, weird, if i didn’t say goodbye,” you get ready to leave, slinging your tote bag on, “but i also didn’t want to intrude on your time with satoshi, limited as it is.” well, you did also wish something would happen, but you had too much pride to admit it to yourself.

“you got a ride home?” he yawns and you feel guilty for extending your stay already. you didn’t even need to worry about the front door, he lived in a gated community for christ’s sake!

“um, not really, but i can always book an uber home.”

“i’ll drive you home, it’s unsafe,” is all he says like he’s trying to convince himself, “let me just get changed and we can go.”

gojo doesn’t leave you any room to protest before he’s up the stairs again and you’re left with a pounding heart and dizzy head, not sure what might ensue. you know him to be honourable; you’ve seen him with his child, you’ve seen him interact with his neighbours, but a late ride with your boss sounds sketchy as it is.

but it doesn’t feel like it when you feel the tokyo wind blowing through your hair, a slight gap in the window bringing you the chills of the night as he silently drives you back home. sitting in your employer’s car most of all felt weird, but even more so when he’s reaching your home faster than the gps system had predicted. his knuckles are white.

“you—”

your head snaps to him, “yes?”

his car headlights are the brightest in the parking lot where every car is silent, quiet, much like his clammy hands and red cheeks. gojo satoru turns to you, feeling that familiar tug in his heart and lump in his throat for the first time in a while, and he can’t speak.

but you lean forward like your life depends on it and you leap inwardly when you see that he does the same. eyes trained forward, your stares boring into the other, waiting to see who’d close their eyes first. you just stop short of an inch, met with the hypnotising swirls of raging oceans in gojo’s eyes and you swallow when his eyes flit down to your lips and back up like he wouldn’t get caught.

with shaking hands, your fingers trace over his lips and you sigh when you feel just how soft they are, just like his skin, just like his eyes when they look at satoshi. your heart skips a beat when he just lightly kisses the pads of your fingers, and that encourages you to cradle his cheek, up his jaw, up his undercut.

“let’s just kiss, yeah?” he was afraid that if he spoke too loud, he’d shatter the glass, snap the string of tension, voice cracking until you swallow it, you stomach his nervousness with a lively, strong kiss from your lips to his, and he just melts.

gojo hums into the kiss, leaning forward over the stick shift and into the passenger seat before you counter it with your own movements: hand on his shoulders and pushing until you’re on his space of the driver’s seat and playing the game of tug that’s been going on for the past few weeks. you win.

“god, you’re so . .” gojo whines out when you climb onto him, whispering into your mouth while you get comfortable in your straddling position, cutting him off with a second, rougher kiss and you both moan softly, passion taking over in the evident way your arms scramble to wrap around him while he pulls you flush against his front.

the car is filled with sounds of your kissing, something that definitely shouldn’t be done in his home and yet you risk it all in your home’s parking lot. you break the kiss and hide in his neck, already starting the makings of a hickey there while your pelvis selfishly grinds into his front and he kneads your ass. in the mingling of breaths and moans, he’s left to stop the two of you when there’s a muffled ringtone coming from your bag and you swallow at the insanity of the situation.

“i’ll see you, monday, right?” gojo breathlessly says later, bulge still showing through his sweats while you hang outside the driver’s side, not wanting to leave. he takes your hand, planting a peck on it and then brings you in for another harmless kiss.

“yeah, gojo-san . . monday.”

you lose count of how many times you’ve swallowed throughout the night, but he says something to lift the mood just a bit.

“we just made out and you’re still calling me by my last name?”

you laugh lightly, “monday, satoru. i’ll be there, same time, on monday.”

gojo leaves a farewell kiss to the inside of your wrist, “attagirl.”

 but if you’re not careful, it might just happen in satoru’s house.

the remainder of your employment at his house is tiring. it’s so hard not to kiss him before he leaves for work, so difficult not to long for him while you take care of satoshi, so entirely harrowing not to claim him as yours as you watch him play after his work. at this point, you’re hoping school will just start soon and the rush of assignments and readings will take your mind off of it, but you cannot deny the excitement every time you leave your house.

“you’ll bring food and cook every monday, wednesday, friday, and i’ll order food for the both of you every tuesday and thursday, how’s that?” gojo thinks it’s time to introduce him to larger pieces of food, but it’s gone past that by now and to your meal arrangements.

“i’m okay with cooking, though!” you assure him, and plus, you loved your parents’ home cooked bentos that they give you everyday, “do we gotta?”

“sorting out meals is tiring, (y/n),” gojo takes the place beside you, leaning against the counter just like you before drinking out of his cup, “i want to at least help at little.”

“you already are.” you smile, “i can see you making the effort.”

“it’s not enough, though, i could be doing better.”

gojo hates how this scene sets up — like two parents just figuring out the best for their kid — it’s a callback to the memory in the same exact kitchen. at least all you do is kiss and make out, because he wouldn’t know what to do if you moan out his name in that same intimate way that threatens his walls to come down again. he loved sex, he loved the bedroom, but he’s riding a thin line the way he’s doing with you.

“you are,” is everything that you say, and you leap forward to kiss him. you do it so hard that he has to put down the glass to fully embrace you, walking you backwards to the conversation pit and he carries you so effortlessly because he doesn’t want you walking backwards down some stairs.

he hates how you bring him into your lips, he hates how gently he lays you down, and he hates how you accept the kisses down your neck and body. you, on the other hand, aren’t doing so well, either — it’s either a hit or miss with a broken man like gojo satoru, and you’re stepping on glass shards hoping you don’t say anything wrong with him because he’s trying his best but he just can’t see it.

“are you okay with this?” he asks halfway down your torso and he gets lightheaded from how well his hands cover your waist. “tell me to stop, and i’ll stop.”

“n-no . . keep going, satoru.”

he exhales shakily at that, fingers tugging your top up and his hands are so cold you resist shivering, but you do anyway from the sheer fucking craziness that gojo drives you into. one pop of your button, and you’re already lifting your hips off the couch for him to remove your pants but movement on the stairs make you halt.

“papa?” satoshi calls out sleepily, rubbing his eyes and pouting. you can see it, almost, with how much time you’ve spent with the kid, and you hope he can’t see you. “i . . i had a nightmare and i just— i wanna sleep with you.”

he’s started sniffling and you feel your heart break that he knows his papa well enough to know he would never sleep in his room. his job always has him sleeping out in the living room.

go. you mouth, kissing your fingers and pressing it to his lips before he puts on a show — yawning, stretching his arms, already making satoshi feel at ease with his theatrics before he’s stopping at the foot of the stairs to look back at you. you already know gojo satoru has redeemed himself a hundred times over. i’ll see you tomorrow. 

funnily, satoshi somehow does have some intervention powers, because each time the both of you attempt to go down on each other, he’s either saying he threw up, or he needs to use the toilet, or that he’s hungry. while you both love him to death, it’s also becoming difficult to hold back each time you see each other. his car in your parking lot is all he has and you dare not to go to his workplace where rumours would spark.

so after a tiring night of getting a hyper satoshi to sleep, you’d at least try. at this point, you know not to expect too much out of it, starting always with some talking. it was easy to talk to your boss, and when you phrase it like that, it did come off a little strange, but it was far from that when your boss in his late 30s looked just like he did ten years ago and that he had crazy blue eyes and insane white hair and was hot.

“thank you for taking care of him for the past month and a half,” gojo thanked you, leaning over to give you a peck to the temple, “it means a lot.”

“he’s a sweet boy, plus, i do need the money,” you giggle, nudging him, “and it did let me get to know you . .”

“certainly,” he mumbles. drunk off your scent, he leans in again, kissing you fully on the lips now. you hum softly, going on your tippy toes and wrapping your arms around his shoulder. swiftly, he props you on the kitchen counter and you yelp in surprise, unable to help the throb of your pussy when he slots himself in between your legs.

jokingly, he puts his hand to his ear. “no satoshi interruption tonight?”

you smack his shoulder, “don’t jinx it.”

he laughs, a proper laugh before he sighs shakily, fingers thumbing your sides gently. “you know . . we shouldn’t be doing this,” you feel your heart sink a little, but he quells it with hovering lips over yours, “he could hear and wake up.”

“then why have you been accepting all my kisses, gojo satoru?” your eyes challenge him, but you know one touch from him would have you submitting to him. his breath fans over your lips, and you can feel his pulse speed up when your fingers go over his neck, to his nape, to his undercut. you run your fingertips through it.

“you have too much power over me, simple.” that sentence has your eyes fluttering close. it’s too much for you and yet you welcome it with open arms, “it’s become so bad that you’re all i think about.”

“is that so?” you pull lightly on his hair.

he nods, foreheads touching now and he’s trying to hold himself back, but, “i’ve been holding back, entirely too much, baby, and i don’t think i can, anymore.”

“yeah?” you whisper, bringing him in with your legs, “show me, then.”

gojo satoru decides that maybe taking the leap isn’t so bad, so he fully gives himself to you, tugging your lips to his in a clashing kiss that has you groaning in pain just a bit. he giggles and apologises and tries again, and this time, it’s got your hips moving against him, whimpering into his mouth. gojo’s hard just from kissing, something that he’s desperate to relieve himself off so — he’s whispering for you to hang on while he slots his hands under your ass and lifts you.

satoru knows his house well, walking up with you in tow and lips still on yours, right into his room. you giggle when he plops you down and he’s already looking forward to ravishing you, but —

“let me check on satoshi for a sec.”

you laugh silently, “of course, satoru, go.”

and once your boss’ made sure his son is out cold in slumber, he’s all over you again and definitely showing you how much he’s been holding himself back. you’re the pure focus of the night, making you chase for more when he pulls away and kissing down your body. he worships it, tongue circling a nipple while his hand plays with the other, eyes staring holes into yours from how intense the blue was.

“s-satoru . .”

“yes, sweets, what is it?”

“feels good—” you whine, back arching into his hold once he leaves your tits and continues down your body. each kiss is like hellfire against your cold skin, and he pops a button and listens out again, both of you sighing in relief and giggling to each other when you don’t hear a knock on the door.

“does it? good.” it’s tantalisingly slow, the pace at which gojo peels your clothes off, but when your pants are finally off, he marvels at your beauty as he brings your legs apart. you’re shy, hiding yourself behind your arms and resisting his hands.

“aht, no, c’mon, show yourself, baby.” he only moans when he sees the dark patch at the centre of your underwear, pressing a finger into your clit and you’re ashamed at how intensely you react to it. gojo continues his torture, thumbing your bud just to watch your face contort into pleasure, “so, so pretty.”

you preen at the praise, even more so when he pulls your panties to the side and sucks slowly on your clit. it’s slow, again, and you’re clutching the sheets so tight when he lays his tongue flat against your pussy. satoru takes his time, savouring each bit of your cunt to make up for lost time, filling the room with the lewdest noises of your sopping cunt on his tongue.

“taste so fuckin’ sweet, pussy’s s’good,” he practically moans into your core, arms wrapping around your thighs to bring you closer while you try to keep your noises down to a minimum. little pants and mewls leave your lips, eyes never leaving the head of hair.

but he’s unpredictable, as gojo always is, so when he’s hovering over you just to give you a little innocent kiss, you think nothing of it, until he’s back in front of your pussy and starts eating you out like a starved man. you let out a loud moan, dragging it out until you’re gulping down your next sounds. it doesn’t help much, though, cause gojo’s slurping at your pussy like it’s the end of the world.

“s-satoru—! too much—” you moan but your hips grind into his mouth, your hands now finding purchase in his hair, “t-too loud.”

“mmf— don’t care,” he mumbles into your cunt, making sure he gets every drop of your arousal on his tongue while he abuses your clit, alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking hard and you think it’s the best head you’ve ever gotten.

“not when your cunt’s so perfect,” you only press his head deeper into you like it would stop his muffled sentences, but that only spurs him to suck harder before he just shifts down a little to plunge his tongue into your hole. you choke out a moan as his nose nudges your clit, clenching around his muscle.

“relax— mmhh, you gotta relax, baby,” he’s massaging your thighs but if anything it does the exact opposite, closing your thighs around his head in sensitivity.

“it’s— h-hard to,” you moan out, already feeling the coil in your tummy that’s approaching oh, so quickly when gojo eats you out like this. he shifts his attention back to your puffy clit, eyes flicking up to make contact with yours and you shrivel under his intense stare, “w-when you’re making me feel s’good—!”

you feel him smile into your cunt but he says nothing, taking note of the drop of your jaw, the scrunch of your eyes, the contractions of your stomach. your legs like to straighten out and shake when you’re close, he memorises. when you start to tighten your grip on his hair, he ingrains it in his mind.

“cumming— i’m c-close,” but it’s like satoru doesn’t even need it when his eyes digest the way he sends you over the edge with just his tongue.

“g— god! satoru!” your mouth falls into a silent scream after, head dipping so much into the pillow while you grind your cunt into his face, gushing all over his face with a renewed spirit and regret for all those times that men have rubbed your left lip thinking it was your clit.

“let it go, yeess . . that’s it,” satoru doesn’t hesitate to get sloppy, sucking up all your cum, gasping for air once he’s done with his meal, “pretty girl just came all over my face.”

you struggle to your elbows despite the words he utters, propped up just to catch a glimpse of him and the soaked bottom of his face that stretches into a smile.

“was that better than all the uni boys who’ve never felt the touch of a woman?” you laugh at that, making quick work of grabbing his chin and bringing him back to your lips.

“much, much better.” and you take the opportunity to flip the tables, trembling, shaking legs trying their best to wrap around his torso to straddle him —  but once you’re over, you’re not quite sure what to do apart from letting your hands roam all over the expanse of his shoulders and chest.

“and can she do it again all over my cock?” the obscene words sound almost taboo falling from his mouth that your mouth drops open in initial shock, but it subsides into anticipation soon enough.

wordlessly, you take matters into your own hands, fingers making quick work of his trousers while he removes his top impatiently. the scowl on your face is prominent when you struggle to work his belt out and he chuckles with helping hands, the burn on your face deepening.

“there,” gojo giggles and he pulls you in with a peck-filled apology, “don’t worry, we have all the time in the world.”

you hum, “not when your son could knock any time soon.”

that prompts a giggle that fades off into a loud moan once your warm hand wraps around him, something that he’d never tell you how many times he’s fantasised about. slowly, you stroke his cock, excruciatingly slow just like how he’s done to your cunt earlier.

you’re hovering over him, now, dragging his tip along your pussy and whining softly at the pre-cum that mixes together with your juices. you need him into you as soon as possible, and apart from your soon burning thighs, you’ve been wanting this for as long as you’ve stepped foot into his house from the very first day.

inch by inch, you sink down onto gojo’s weeping cock, getting the luxury of feeling his sensitive twitches with the plunge into your cunt. you’re glad at least he had offered to stretch you out just a tad bit earlier, the intrusion of his fingers already having you panting for his dick; and now, when you have the real thing, it drives your mind insane.

“’t-toru— haah . .” your body curls up from the painful stretch, lips muttering the nickname unknowingly as you grasp onto his shoulders for support, and while he helps you on, he never stops saying the most filthy things, grinning each time you clench around him.

“never thought i’d be here, fuckin’ the babysitter, but here we are,” your oh my god is whispered only for the other to hear, body burning up from the words before he grinds his pelvis into yours and you slump forward in pleasure. your words are a bunch of nothingness, a string of incoherence, “and her pussy’s just so fucking— tight!”

giving you one or two breaths of rest, satoru coos in your face, cradling it and littering kisses all over it before he’s moving his hips and you’re breaking the kiss to whine out, moving your hips to meet his as well. you move sooner or later, bouncing on his cock once you’re more used to him in you and the position only hits all your spots just right.

“f-fuck— you’re so big—!” you roll your hips into him, eyes stuck on how there’s just a small bump in your tummy each time you bottom out. your boss from across you is equally ruined, eyes struggling to keep open with wet hair stuck to his forehead. “feel so so g-good . .”

“yeah?” he breathlessly mumbles, hand squeezing and kneading your ass and trying to help you, but the warmth of your cunt around his length just feels too good. “bounce on that dick, baby.”

and you do, planting your feet into the bed and fingers creating bruises along his shoulders as you impale yourself on his fat cock, switching to relaxing in his embrace and letting your hips do the work when your legs start hurting. there, you indulge in gojo’s lips as you hump him, the delicious friction of your clit against his pubes sending you reeling.

“you’re going to be soaking my sheets from how much you’re leaking,” gojo jests, letting your moans take over his mind while his lips trace down your neck, eyes just peeking over to see your ass ripple from the force. “not that i mind. how’s she doin’?”

“she’s getting,” a choked whine interrupts you, “a little tired.”

and that draws a laugh out of gojo who does nothing but tease you, something he likes to do even in makeout sessions, and he doesn’t hesitate to reach over to his bedsie table to grab his phone, leaning back to bask in your glory. here, your body just looks heavenly as you try your best to move on his lap.

“hang on a little more for me, princess,” with one hand, his larger hand leave chills all over your body and the other points his phone at you, not before making sure you were okay with it, “and smile for the camera.”

you try your best even when his hand make his way to your mouth, pulling it open with his fingers to slot it in. you’re sure you look like a whore right now, but the camera pointed your way only turn you on more, like it’s beckoning you to put on a show. and you loved the attention, so you close your lips around his fingers and start sucking, grinding even harsher on his cock that has gojo stuttering.

“y—yeah, attagirl . .” he grins at the video he takes, “show the camera how much of a cockslut you are.”

you whine, bringing the hand to your clit while you shove two hands onto his torso to really work your thighs out, feeling that familiar curl in your stomach once he starts rubbing his saliva-filed fingers along you bundle of nerves. 

“r-right there, satoru—!” you swear under your breath, giving hooded eyes to the camera while you chase your high drunkenly, all sort of coherent thought banished from your head. “love your cock, love it, love it—!”

satoru swears he wants to cum from just watching you use him, and even holding himself back is proving difficult when you clamp and tighten around him until his fingers press particularly deep into your clit and you’re cumming with a loud cry of his name, body convulsing all over the video.

“tha’s a good girl . . cream my cock, yeeaaahh . .” gojo watches, hypnotised, as you lose control over your body, but the pleasure-filled whimper that you merge his name with is just too good, that he spills unexpectedly in you. the video is far from stable, so he only slaps the phone down to relish in his orgasm. gojo pushes his hips up and you gasp at the feeling, back arching when you feel his cum seep into you.

you’ve never even given much thought to pregnancy, but the feeling of his cum dribbling into you fogs your mind that you only want more after a mental note to buy the morning after pill tomorrow.

“n-need more,” you beg, fondling at his cheeks and undercut, “w-want more cum in me, satoru . .”

and it’s like a flip switches in him, because he’s flipping you over right after — he has to see his cum leave your pussy first though, taking the still ongoing video and putting it right up to your pussy, using his tip to smear your mixed juices all around.

“who knew i’d hired such a dirty girl?” he addresses the camera more than you, but he catches your flustered glance with a wink and after poorly setting up the camera on his bedside table (he just was too intoxicated on your cunt), he’s pushing back into you with a loud groan, not even caring for the consequences any more. his cum is just so much, too, spilling out the sides.

“only f’r you,” you mumble, grabbing at his forearms needily. your eyes flutter close as he bottoms out, your legs pushed right up to your chest as he folds you whichever way he wants to. at this point, if he wanted to own you, you wouldn’t object one bit, not when gojo satoru’s cock stretches your pretty pussy so nicely. “a cumslut only for you.”

“yeah?” he starts moving his hips and your arch into his hold, “i wonder how i got so — fuck — lucky.” everything is sloppy and wet and disgusting and you love every moment of it, even after he’s cummed in you the second, third, fourth time, you’re happy to be pumped full of his cum, giving him a tired, glistening grin that he returns.

“think i should be transferring over my life savings for a cunt this sweet,” you giggle at the compliment, but don’t protest when he’s pulling up the app to gift you with a hefty amount; both your salary and bonus, all from making gojo satoru fall helplessly just from your touch — something to brag about indeed.

[tammyu-2]

rottmnt and 2012 turtles with an s/o that’s just really good with casual street fights? Like if their friend was being bothered by someone they’d help them jump them, or if someone was talking shit they’d confront them and fight etc. Just a messy vicious street fighter, hair pulling, dragging, curb stomping etc, like those school fight videos you’d see on twitter

Ooooo this is the first rottmnt rec I've gotten niceee

ROTTMNT+2012 TMNT WITH A STREET FIGHTER S/O

Usage of swearing, a bit of gore ish descriptions bit also not, no usage of pronouns, not proofread read, kinda rushed

I'm running out of 2012 gifs so we gonna have to reuse em

LEO

2012 TMNT

You and Leo are the definition of that one meme that goes "Don't do it gurl" "I'm not gon do it gurl I was just hung about it....I did it." When he first found out about your wildcard behavior he was both impressed and deeply concerned. Impressed cause you could fight for yourself and win without a sweat, and concerned because it was not a good way to properly resolve issues.

The first time he saw you fight was honestly pretty shocking. And also scary. He was out during petrol and he found you and your friend walking into a dodgy alleyway. So his first thought was to watch from afar to see if his s/o is safe. However when one dude dared to comment on your friends weight out of random let's just say he was unconscious the second you looked his way.

Your friend was used to your behavior so just stood aside feeling comforted by the lengths you went through to protect your friends. Meanwhile you had your hair up while you beat the LIVING SHIT out of the rando on the street. Leo was dumbfounded. Sure this was a good thing to defend your friend but the way you were tossing this (probably hobo) man was absolutely insane he took some notes. Eventually he did break it up once the guy was blacked out cold and his nose was broken.

"What the hell was that?"

"I was protecting my friend. Nobody comments on my friends appearance in such a snibish manner."

"I-you.. you know what fair. Just go easy on him next time."

"...I was going easy on him-"

He soon takes note of your protective nature to the people you love and care about. Which he finds endearing it's just that he wish that you handled things more thoughtfully before breaking your hand further for the 5th time this week.

Whenever your over at the sewer he invites you to meditate with him. He feels like it would help release all the negative tension you carry around and it mostly did. He teaches you to think before you act. Which doesn't really change you completely. You think about wanting to beat up a disrespectful person and you do just that. Except you make sure there's enough said that it's justified that they nearly were knocked into unconsciousness.

ROTTMNT

He is the complete opposite. Like he is the one who provokes you into fighting. Not that he likes seeing you hurt but whenever the street fighter in you comes out he must admit it's pretty hot. Like I feel like he sorta cheers you on from the side, because he knows that you can handle yourself, with a giant sign that says "Beat their ass!!". He pretends to be against it but absolutely no body it buying it.

When he first witnessed you fight was when you were accidentally caught in the middle of a battle between the turtles and the foot clan. You managed to come out there unscathed as the entire turtle ream were in complete shock. And Leo was busy fan girling realizing you were his s/o and you were that strong.

He always watches you while you train and makes conversation with you while you do sit ups. He likes the fact that he won't need to worry about you getting hurt because your strong enough by his strandard. However if it's mythical life threatening then he will be extra clingy with you cause he'll if he's losing a super awesome s/o.

He loves it when you are in battle with him. It's like you two are a literal power couple and he adores your vibes. He loves it when he witnesses your personal fights beforehand.

"WOOO THATS MI VIDA!! BREAK THEIR LEGS!!"

DONNIE

2012 TMNT

He is scared and concerned. Poor baby is confused the first time he sees you fight. And it only turnes into concern overtime. He likes that you handle yourself and you show how much you love the people around you through acts of protectiveness. It's just that he wishes it doesn't have to do with blood on your hands.

The first time he saw you fight was when he dropped you off at your house and he was watching from a far to make sure you entered safely. However your enemy had shown up and mocked your close friend. So you dropped your belongs and fully on had a catfish with her. Like clawing and hairpulling type cat fight. Now Donnie here is convinced your a psychopath. Like he loves you so much but that shouldn't be normal right?

I mean he feels like it's cool that you aren't afraid to jump right into situations with nothing but guided faith. But he wishes you would calculated the outcomes that your stunt would create for you. He is the type to be forcibly holding you back the second he hears something insensitive come out of someone's mouth then he knows that he has 0.1 seconds to stop you from killing someone.

"No listen to me sweetie they aren't worth it!"

"LET ME AT EM I WANNA TEAR THEM APART HOW DARE THEY SAY THAT!?"

He keeps little stress balls with him just incase someone ticks you off again.

ROTTMNT

He is honestly impressed by your passion in fighting brutally and he embraces it. He doesn't care about the poor people you beat up because they should have seen it coming. Like he has no remorse. He is the type to stand there on his phone while his shell has a robotic hand sticking out waving a tiny flag.

"Woooo...!"

"Donnie why are you cheering if you aren't even watching-"

"I'm observing through the corner of my eye that counts."

So he still holds you back, but he has no effort to it. Like he just lazily put his arm in front of you that somehow holds you, but if you got any more angrier than it won't hold for a while.

He also makes little gadgets that help you fight whenever you join them in a battle. He will have like metal gloves that enhance your strength and helps you use control it better. He even makes an little scientific gym for you so that you can freely train whenever he's busy with something extremely hazardous.

RAPH

2012 TMNT

We all know where this is going right? Hell yes. He loves you for your fighting spirit and constantly agrees with you whenever you want to beat someone up. He is the type to not hold you back but push you further so he can see you fight again cause it's very impressive to him.

You guys train together and training with you two is lowkey fighting. Like you both agree not to hold back on each other so whenever you spar it's extremely dangerous to be around. He teaches you some stuff you teach him stuff in return.

He is the type to buy you little fighting equipment like a butterfly knife and such. He thinks it's cool whenever you join in on missions and that the only thing you two have in mind is busting heads at every turn.

"I say we choke the information out of him!"

"I'm 100% all for this idea."

"GUYS no."

ROTTMNT

Scared for you. Like you jump into random fights and your always set off whenever someone is disrespectful to you. He is the type to sling you over his shoulder whenever your ready to start pouncing at someone for insulting your friend.

He constantly tries to teach you the value of thinking on your actions but he unfortunately fails. So he just deals with it. He tells you off whenever he's patching up your bruised knuckles that you cause by another successful fight.

He tries to mediate things between you and another person but if it doesn't work out he just let's you lose and sits aside watching you claw at the poor person.

MIKEY

1012 TMNT

He is awestruck at your fighting skills because it's super impressive. He begs for days on end for you to teach him the sick moves you have but gets bored if you get too technical with the lessons.

He cheers you on during fights and doesn't really care about the other person. He more or less takes notes and applies it to his training so he can be as fast and as quick as you when it comes to fight.

He absolutely adores it when you come on missions. He loves watching you in action up close and he likes whenever you and him do power moves together. And although you might come out bloody and bruised froma fight her is bouncing off the walls at how you knocked the person through the wall (not literally sadly)

ROTTMNT

First time he saw you? He was traumatized for a month and scared to the bone at what your capable of when someone ticks you off. So he learns to NEVER get on your bad side at all.

You notice that he's more jumpy and he tells you why so whenever you want to fight someone you bring it away from him and then beat the living hell out of a stranger.

So whenever your training you don't go full on ballistic on him like usual and you give him a few pointers when it comes to fighting. He makes murals of you as a warrior that completes her wars and never falters. He thinks it's insanely cool just as long as he isn't witnessing it first hand is all.

I need to change my uploading schedule cause I'm failing ASLEEEP HEREEEE

Hope you guys enjoyed toodlessss

~Tammy<3

[munsonsreputation]

every second counts

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: [2.3K]

warnings: semi proof-read, no use of y/n, tooth rotting fluff, kinda meet!cute-ish(?), brief talks about insecurity, lots and lots of fluff and idiots liking one another <3

Summary: You and Steve find yourselves wanting more than just free ice cream and small talk—finally you conjure up the courage to get him alone and he wants to make every second count.

His foot anxiously tapped against the sticky ground behind the counter. The black rubber mat meant to prevent slips was caked with milky residue and copious amounts of sprinkles and a plethora of crushed cookies that he knew were going to be forever stuck onto the soles of his Nike’s.

His fingers clumsily hit buttons on the register, ringing up the customer in front of him in a haste eager to get them out of the way so he could finally get to you.

“Here’s your change, have a nice day.” Steve said quickly.

The upbeat customer service voice from the beginning of their interaction competely abandoned as he plopped the loose bill and coins in the patron’s palm, immediately peering past them to meet your eyes with a dopey smile on his face.

“Dude I think you gave me extra—”

“Have a great day!” Steve repeated pointedly through a tight smile, ushering the customer away as they furrowed their brows and exited the shop a dollar and eighty-five cents richer.

“Hey Captain,” You saluted sweetly, eyes drifting up to the sailor hat perched up on his head—he hated the stupid uniform but was slowly coming to terms with it just because it made you smile.

He tipped the hat towards you with a grin, “What can I get for you today? The usual?”

He was already moving smoothly from behind the counter, picking out the freshest waffle cone for you as he reached into the freezer, ice cream scoop in hand lingering over the cookie dough pot.

You hummed happily, watching as he loaded the scoop with enough ice cream to serve two. But he always did that for you—spoiling you with enough sweetness to cause a toothache—but it wasn’t just the sweets he was dishing out.

All you ever had were the three and a half fleeting minutes where small talk wasn’t enough, and even then he had a way of making your cheek hurt with how hard he made you smile and laugh.

Still, though, he hadn’t asked you out just yet. In the multiple times you had come in ordering the same thing, getting to know the handsome sailor a little more, he hadn’t asked you out.

You knew good and well who he was—the Steve Harrington that knew exactly how to charm the ladies—granted he still had the charm, but just lost a beat in his confidence.

It didn’t change the fact that you liked him though, you just wished he’d stop holding back.

He slid the freezer door closed, returning to the register and shaking his head as you attempted to fish out your wallet from your purse. It was routine by now, yet you wouldn’t stop at least trying to pay.

Maybe one day he’d forget about his ‘one free ice cream a day’ employee discount he always saved for you, but today wasn’t that day.

“It’s on the house.” Steve smirked, holding out the sweet treat for you to take.

You sighed dramatically, dropping your wallet back into your purse, fingertips brushing against his as you took the warm cone from his hands and offer him a thankful smile.

“Are you going on break soon?” You chewed on your lip, entirely ignoring the growing line behind you that consisted of impatient kids and equally ignorant teenagers.

“Uh…actually, I’ve still got—”

Before he could finish his devastating sentence, Robin came through the back room doors like she was his your saving grace.

“You can take your fifteen early,” she sing-songed, snatching the dish towel tucked in her apron and wiping up the milky droplets on the edge of the counter. “I’ll steer the ship for a bit.” She assured him with a wink.

You could read the look on her face, something that said ‘you’re welcome dingus, but you totally owe me later.’

Yet Steve hesitates just a beat, looking at you then back at Robin with a hint of uncertainty.

“Are you sure? I can—”

“Dude just go!” she huffed, whacking him with the towel and pushing him out of the way as she took his place at the register and passed you a kind smile, “Hey you.”

Just as much as you’ve gotten to know Steve, you have gotten to know Robin as well. She’s a lingering presence that occasionally joins you and Steve and makes you laugh just as much.

You know she’s perceptive—eyes always studying you and Steve’s little interactions, and you certainly don’t miss the way she giggles to herself when Steve passes you a compliment in the middle of a rush.

She’s more than a little familar to whatever is going on between you and Steve. He talks about you all the time—in the breakroom, outside the breakroom, while they’re lugging out the trash during closing, when he’s driving her home, when she lingers outside the passenger door while he speaks with the windows rolled down—she knows.

It’s why she obliges to let him handle the register, even when he’s shit at counting change and it’s also why she’s letting him take his fifteen minute break earlier than usually—because she can’t stand to see you two play these little games anymore.

“Hey Robin,” you replied warmly, flashing her an apologetic smile, leaning closer you whispered to her, “Swear I won’t keep him for long.”

She dismissed your apology, waving her hand in the air as her hand gently patted your shoulder.

“Keep him as long as you like. I’m pretty sure we’re short on change thanks to him.”

You giggled and shook your head, Steve rounding the counter and clearing his throat to garner your attention that he never lost. You waved bye to her, watching the smile fade from her face the second you fell out of line and a group of rambunctious teenagers begin spewing their order at her.

“Wanna go outside and sit? Somewhere quiet?” He offered realizing the store is packed, and he doesn’t want the one moment he has alone with you to be disrupted by Robin’s peeves and those impatient voices.

“Yes, please.”

You fell into step beside him, appreciating the feel of his hand hovering over the small of your back, leading you through the busy mall towards somewhere less crowded.

His free hand pushed the exit doors of the mall open, fresh air skirting across your exposed skin and finally serene silence engulfing you both. A happy sigh left your mouth as you take a lick of your ice cream, humming again as Steve gestures to a bench allowing you to sit first before he follows.

“So…” His voice unsure of himself, the sticky bottom of his shoe tapping against the hot pavement as his eyes fitted to yours, “How’s your day been going so far?”

You suppressed your giggles around a mouth full of ice cream. The small talk excruciatingly silly and absurd now that you two were finally alone. He mirrors your laughter, eyes closing as he chuckles and rubs a nervous hand over the back of his neck. He means well by the question, even though you both know there’s more intresting things you could talk about for the next fifteen minutes.

“So far so good,” You nodded, “I did some window shopping at the Macy’s but I don’t think I could justify blowing my paycheck on a pair of new shoes.” You straightened out your legs, rolling your ankles to show off your well-loved sneakers.

He nudged your kicks with his own, blowing out a puff of air as he shakes his head at your words. He knows from your fleeting conversations that you work at Hawkins Middle as a teacher’s aid—your sneakers caked with a different kind of mess than his.

Melted crayons, tattered gold stars, dirt, and god knows what else. You like what you do, and often reward yourself after a long day of work to grab a treat, though Steve hopes it’s also partly to see him.

“You should treat yourself, you deserve it.” He said considerately, his hand reaching out nervously to give your jean covered knee a pat.

You can feel the slightest shake in his fingertips even with the fabric in the way. He’s nervous, and even though you can’t fathom yourself being that special to someone, you know it’s because he likes you…truly likes you.

He uses everything in him to make sure he doesn’t make a fool out of himself in front of you. He chooses his words wisely, always watches for your reaction, always on the look out not to manage the impression he’s making, but trying to see if he’s what you like.

You’ve made it evidently clear as day, you feel the same way. Sticking around even after you get your ice cream, indulging by yourself in an empty seat as you trade smiles and soft laughter from across the store. When it finally slows down, he grabs the broom and floats to your side, asking how you’re liking the ice cream, before another patron comes in.

You can hear, even though the chatter of the shop, Robin’s whispers, telling Steve to hurry up and ask you out. And you agree with her, even with eyes trained to your melting ice cream pretending you aren’t listening, only to hear Steve reply that he isn’t sure he’s good enough for you.

That was last week and today you’re determined to not waste anymore time.

“Pretty sure this qualifies as a treat itself.” You purse your lips, lifting the cone up in your hand making him chuckle, “And I pretty sure, you’re out to give me cavities by how much ice cream your give me all the time.”

Steve holds his hands up in defense, the corner of his eyes crinkling as his smile never falters.

“Just want to make my favorite customer happy.”

“You make her super happy,” you nod shyly, taking an innocent lick at the melting ice cream before you look up at him again, “Could make her happier though.”

His brows furrow, smile twitching into a curious frown as he blinks, “How?”

“Asking her out on a date.” You speak without a second thought, watching his eyes widen a little and his jaw go slack, staring at you like you’ve read his mind.

Seeing Steve Harrington flustered isn’t anything new to you. In all honestly, you manage to elicit the feeling so easily, that it happens almost every time you interact. You find it endearing, the way he looks at you so softly and somehow thinks he doesn’t deserve to be yours.

“A…a date?”

You hum, taking another lick as you watch the realization cover his features, the understanding that you don’t want to dance around stupid little ice cream banter and small talk all the time.

“What about, uh, this Saturday, I’m—”

“Today.” You blurted without missing a beat, “Want you to take me out on one today.”

He wants to protest.

To tell you that you deserve to link arms with him when he’s freshly showered and dressed in appropriate clothing.

That he wants to plan something special: a dinner reservation at Enzo’s or renting out your favorite movie and ordering in your favorite food.

Hell, maybe that he doesn’t deserve you—that you shouldn’t waste your time on a guy who slings ice cream and couldn’t even get into any of his college choices.

But he can see the truth in your eyes, the same kind that lives in his orbs and within his entire being. The wanting of one another, the need to not waste anymore time that you two already had. He belittled himself for always cutting corners, but this didn’t feel like that at all.

It was mutual—the burning need to give whatever it was between you two a fair shot.

He sat up a little straighter, letting all that hesitancy be taken by the wind that coasted through the air.

“I get off at two. I’ll come get you in your car.” He began, the smile creeping back onto his face as he reached out and rested his hand on your knee with a sure squeeze, “We’ll grab pizza and then we’re going to Macy’s so I can convince you to get those sneakers.”

Your lips twitches with a grin, mouth opening to respond but before you can, he was speaking again—this time a little softer, a little more certain of himself as the seconds passed.

“Then I’ll walk you to your car and then ask you out on a second date.” He murmured, his face just inches away from yours as he kept watch for your reaction.

You beamed wide, leaning forward to press a stickly-sweet kiss onto his cheek, leaving his blood rushing and his heart thumping loud.

“I can’t wait.” You finally cooed, eyes filled with giddiness that never left his, like you were trying to savor the moment and make it last a little longer before you had to part ways.

“It’s melting.” He said suddenly, causing your eyes to follow his looking down at your knuckles where the ice cream began to slide down.

You laughed quietly, cursing at yourself for making a mess and grabbing the hem of your shirt as a napkin. But before you could, he stopped you, reaching the towel from his apron pocket and wiping away at the mess on your hands that began sliding down your wrist.

He was gentle and thoughtful, never tugging too roughly your skin or complaining about the ludicriously large cookie dough chunks making the clean up messier. Even then, during something so mundane and sticky sweet, the pleasure was all his, and god, you just knew he’d be yours.

“You just had to go and distract your favorite customer didn’t you?” You whispered with a teasing lilt, biting down on your lip as he folded up the stained towel.

His eyes lifted to your again, lips curling into a grin, “Gotta make every second count.”

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: first fic of the summer and i'm feeling really happy about it!! wanted to make this one short n' sweet and i hope i was able to capture that here. also does this qualify as a meet cute??? i'm not sure lol...i've only read a couple fics like that but maybe if i write another about reader and stevie's actually first meeting in depth it would qualify lol (forgive meeee). maybe will make a part 2? who knows. i have some more short blurbs and imagines i'm working on and i can't wait to post them!

+a/n: i also want to wish the love of my life, effie (@/translatemunson) a very happy birthday. she isn't one for grand gestures, but i'd like to think that in some magical way she manifested my come back (she literally did) and now i can give her this imagine + more fics to come as a bday gift hahaha. i love you so much effie. meeting you though this app and fandom all because of our beloved stevie has literally changed my life in the best way. you're the best in the entire world and im sending you so much love, laughter, virtual hugs + kisses, and never ending memes to last a lifetime. love you baby <3

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3