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#“I’m so sorry about that if you head over there you can grab a five dollar gift card! I really am so sorry about that”
reidswhre · 3 days
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notes 4 you ; spencer reid x fem!reader
warnings: fluff! best friends in love
You were gathering your things from your desk while wondering what you were going to have for dinner. You hadn’t left any food prepared, and honestly, you didn’t feel like cooking, but nothing that a food delivery couldn’t fix.
“Hi.” Spencer smiled at you from in front.
“Hey, you.” You smiled back while slinging your bag over your shoulder.
“Are you heading home?” He asked.
“Of course, I’m going home, where else would I go at this hour?” You teased him.
“Oh- I don’t know- I- well.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought maybe you could come to my place, I’m making pasta.”
“Your place? Oh God, sure! I’d love to.”
“Really?”
“Of course!”
You used to go to Spencer’s place often, and he to yours. You’d have dinner, watch a movie or two, and talk a lot. You spent all day together at work, but given the tragic cases you dealt with, seeing each other outside of work felt peaceful, a nice atmosphere that you both created.
You liked him a lot, and you were sure he liked you too. There were always moments when everything felt tense or you sensed something stronger than friendship between you, but neither of you ever acted on it.
“I missed it here,” you said as you entered Spencer’s apartment.
“Did you?” He asked as he watched you head straight to his bookshelf.
“Are you kidding? I love this place; it’s so cozy, so interesting, so lovely, so… you.”
“Do you love me?” He gave you a playful look as he set the groceries on the table for dinner.
“Of course, I do, silly.” You rolled your eyes and picked up the book on the coffee table. “This one’s new.”
“Yeah—actually, all those piled over there are new.” He pointed to a stack of about five books to your right.
“Oh, can I borrow this one when you're done?” you asked, grabbing one from the pile.
“You can take any of them, really.” He gave you that closed-lip smile.
“Wait, you’ve read all five already? You said they were new!”
“I read fast.”
“Of course you do.” You rolled your eyes again, smiling as you skimmed through the book.
“By the way! I finished reading that book you recommended, your favorite, remember?”
You felt a wave of happiness wash over you. “You’re kidding! I didn’t even know you bought it! How exciting! What did you think?”
“It was pretty good, though I think the dialogues in the book show some deficiencies in terms of plausibility and conversational dynamics. This homogeneity in the discourse negatively affects the characterization and pacing, creating a sense of stagnation in the dramatic development.”
You were left speechless, which made you laugh a little.
“What’s so funny?” He furrowed his brows.
“You just severely criticized my favorite book!”
“I didn’t criticize it severely!” He defended himself. “I thought it was good! It has memorable lines, and it’s very romantic. I just think the dialogue could’ve been better, that’s all.”
“Sure, everyone’s entitled to their opinion, even if yours is wrong,” you teased.
“Hey!” Spencer feigned offense.
You laughed, and Spencer chuckled a little too.
“You can keep that one too.”
“No, no, don’t worry. I have that book in every edition that exists.” You laughed. “It’s my favorite for a reason.”
“Yeah, but—I thought you might want this one.” Spencer walked over to the bookshelf in front of you and pulled out the book from a drawer.
The book was filled with sticky notes. You glanced at it and saw it was covered with annotations everywhere.
“I—well—I made notes while reading because—I don’t know—I wanted to give it to you. I thought you’d like to see how I was doing as I read it.” He looked a bit nervous.
You looked at him and then back at the book. You were so surprised that no words came out of your mouth, which only made Spencer more anxious.
“No—you don’t have to keep it—It wasn’t my intention to make you feel like you had to read it, I didn’t even ask if you wanted it, I’m really sorry!”
“You’re sorry?” You raised your eyebrows. “Sorry for giving me the best gift anyone’s ever given me?” You smiled broadly.
“What? You want it?” He sighed in relief.
“Are you kidding? This is incredible.” You threw your arms around him in a hug. “I love it! I can’t wait to see what you wrote.” You pulled away from the hug to skim through the book.
“No! Don’t do that!” He placed his hands over the book so you couldn’t read it. “Read it at home, okay?”
“Why!? I want to read it now.” You laughed and moved the book out of his reach.
“The thing is, I—you know—I wrote a lot…” He looked away.
You gave him a knowing look. “Of course, that was the idea, wasn’t it? I’m well aware,” you said teasingly.
“Sure! But… I didn’t just write what I thought about the book.” He looked at you. “I highlighted and underlined things that reminded me of you, and… I wrote you a few things. Just—read it later, okay?”
Suddenly, you felt a bit nervous, your stomach flipping. What did he mean by writing you a few things?
“Oh sure… yeah—sorry.” You closed the book and tucked it under your arm.
“It’s okay! Forget it.” He smiled sweetly. “Help me with the pasta, yeah?”
You smiled back. “What?” You pretended to be offended. “I came here to be treated like a princess, not to get my hands dirty!”
“Stop complaining!” He teased you, and you laughed.
You returned home around midnight, hung up your jacket, and left your keys on the table. Eagerly, you pulled the book out of your bag and sat down on the couch to take a look.
You saw some of his notes.
What’s this supposed to be? This guy’s an idiot. >:(
Oh, that was sweet! Extra points for him!
She’s funny, just like you.
you and me :) It was next to a paragraph describing a black cat and an orange one playing around.
I’m reading this on the plane, and you’re asleep i miss you :(
I seriously hate this guy, who raised him!?
You looked really cute today. You’re always cute.
There were countless more notes, all in his handwriting.
You had no intention of sleeping until you finished reading them all.
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lulunothulu · 3 days
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Loovveee your writing. 😍 Would you be able to write where reader and Tyler are married and he’s out running errands when he gets notified from her Apple Watch that she’s taken a hard fall because she was thrown from a horse and 911 was called so he drives as quick as he can home to her driving through their gate trying to get to her faster and she’s unconscious and bleeding from a cut on her head and just worried husband vibes until she wakes up and is fine 💙
Oooo I love this. I gotchu boo 🤠 and thank youuuu I’m so sorry this is late 💗
“Don’t worry”
Tyler Owens x Reader
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“Let me check the list because if I miss something, my wife is gonna have a fit.” Tyler laughs, pulling the grocery list out of his pocket.
He’d been tasked by you with getting groceries and knew you were particular about what kind of apples you liked.
When he finally pulls the list out, he hands it to the worker before him who smiles and points him to the section where the honey crisp apples are.
“Thank you!” He calls out, steering the buggy toward the section and grabbing a plastic bag to collect the four apples you wanted.
He’s about to put the last apple in the bag when he gets a notification from your AppleWatch.
‘My Wife 💗’ has fallen and their breathing has slowed down significantly. 9-1-1 has been called and they are 10 minutes out.
Tyler’s heart stops.
Within seconds, his legs are moving, sprinting out of the store the buggy full of groceries left behind.
He’ll come back another time. Right now, he had to get to his wife. He had to get to you.
He knew he was only five minutes away, but he let his foot hit the accelerator. Anything to get to you quicker.
When he finally—painstakingly—arrives at y’all’s house, your horse, Sugar, is galloping around the front yard, neighing happily to herself. He reaches for her, gently pulling her close.
“Where is she?” He asks her. He doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he jogs to the training ring to the right of the house where he finds your lifeless body.
He sprints at the sight of you, fear taking over all of his thoughts and he brushes the random strands of hair covering your face.
“Oh my god,” he whispers. “Oh my god. Baby? Can you hear me?”
He checks your pulse.
Good, steady but kind of weak.
Your breathing is slow, almost too slow for his taste. Your face is relaxed in unconsciousness and there’s a pretty bad gash on your forehead and the back of your head.
Tyler knows not to move you so he holds your hand, waiting and praying that the ambulance hurries.
The next five minutes feel like hours but the paramedics finally arrive.
“I think she fell and hit her head on the ground or a rock,” Tyler tells them.
He watches from the side as they take your vitals and get you ready to transfer to the ER.
“Do you want to ride with her?” One of the paramedics asks.
“No, I’ll follow behind in my truck,” he tells them.
———
At the hospital, Tyler looks down at you from his standing position next to your bed.
How could this have happened? When is she gonna wake up?
He rubs his eyes, checking his watch again to see that it’s almost 10 PM. he’s been here for the past few hours, waiting for you to wake up.
Unfortunately, for him, the doctor said that it might take a bit for you to wake up, especially because of the fall you took.
“She’ll wake up when she’s ready,” they said.
“When?” He’d asked.
“Within a few hours. She has a concussion so she needs to rest as much as she can.”
The waiting was the hardest part for him. He hated just standing around. He needed to do something, anything to make sure you were okay, to help you wake up. Worry begins to eat at him the longer he stays in the hospital room with you so Tyler decided it would be best to go to the cafeteria.
Only when he’s about to walk out the door, he hears you groan.
“Tyler?”
“Baby,” he cries, running back to your side. He takes your hand in his, kissing each knuckles before smiling down at you with happy tears stuck in his eyes. “How’re you feeling?”
“I’m okay,” you tell him. “Am I in the hospital?”
“Yeah,” he tells you, wiping his eyes. “What happened?”
“I was trying to give Sugar a little test run before the next race and she got spooked by a garden snake,” you recount. “I must’ve hit my head on a rock or something.”
“You did,” he tells you, voice quiet. “You scared the hell out of me.”
You look up into his green eyes and smile softly. Placing your hand on his cheek, you pull him down to kiss you.
The kiss is sweet and tender, something Tyler didn’t know he knew he needed until then.
“I love you, Ty,” you tell him.
“I love you too, Baby,” he hiccups, tears freely falling now. “You really did scare me. I didn’t know if you would be okay. If you’d d—”
He couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence. Instead, he smiles down at you and kisses you again.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he says instead.
“I am too,” you tell him. Then, smirking a bit, you add, “I would be pretty pissed if I died from falling off a horse.”
Tyler laughs at that. “I would be too.”
“When can I eat? And when can I leave?” You ask. “But most importantly, when can I eat?”
“Doctors said he wanted to keep you overnight,” he tells you. “I can get you something to eat if you want.”
“Okay, as long as it’s something filling. I have t eaten since… what time is it?”
“10:30 PM,” he tells you.
“Jesus Christ, since 8 AM this morning,” you marvel.
Tyler laughs, pecking your lips before standing. “I’ll get you a nice fat sandwich.”
“Sounds perfect.”
You watch as he walks away before saying, “And Tyler?”
He turns around. “Yes baby?”
“Walk slower, your ass looks really nice in those jeans.”
Tyler only laughs and obeys as he walks out the door.
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zeroreasonstocare · 2 days
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Trouble
A Five Part Sukuna Series
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Part One: Some Dumb Project
Masterlist
Part Two (will update when posted!!)
Synopsis: You switched majors and meet this annoying guy in your new history class, now you have to work on a project with him. Not only that, he goes to the place you work at! Ugh, how annoying, hopefully he won’t cause any trouble…
〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎ ♛ 〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎
Sukuna is nothing but trouble. Everyone knows that. All your life, you’ve attracted nothing but trouble. Whether it’s a traffic jam, your coffee being too cold or spilling all over you, or somehow locking yourself out of your apartment, you just can’t help but find trouble.
Like right now.
You’re late. To your first class of your new major. It’s not like you slept in late or anything, your door jammed, meaning you had to bust yourself out of your own apartment. Talk about annoying! Luckily, the professor hasn’t entered class, so when you walk into the lecture hall, you get up to a row with good acoustics and sit next to a boy with pink hair. He smiles at you and taps your shoulder.
“Hey! I’m Yuji Itadori! Are you new? I haven’t seen you here before, and most of these people are familiar faces.”
“Yeah, I switched majors over break. Nice to meet you, Itadori.”
“Hey, who’s the person in my seat, brat?”
You think you have double vision when you see Itadori twice, but this second one has tattoos on his face.
“Um, there aren’t assigned seats.”
“You’re one of those people, aren’t you?” He huffs with his gruff voice, a frown permanently etched into his face. He’s like a polar opposite of Yuji.
“Sukuna, just sit on the other side of me, it’s not that big a deal.” Yuji rolls his eyes.
“Maybe not to you, idiot.”
“Um, who are you?” You tilt your head.
“I’m this brat’s twin brother, isn’t that obvious? Now get out of my spot.”
“Still not your spot.”
“I will carve my name into the desk. Then will you move?”
“Isn’t that vandalism?”
“Even better.”
You scoff into a small laugh and look at Yuji with a “can you believe this guy?” look. You still refuse to switch seats as the professor enters.
“Alright, take your seats, class has started.” He says in a bored tone.
Sukuna scoffs at you and sits on the other side of Yuji, glaring at you the entire time. He can already tell you’re going to annoy him. Especially with your stupid attitude, your dumb clothes that fit you so well, your stupid good looks, your annoyingly attractive body… He needs to not stare. He shakes the thought away as the professor talks about some dumb project he could care less about.
“You all are going to be assigned a group of three people, so just look at the person next to you and on the other side, that’s basically your group, just for simplicity.” The professor looks up and starts writing groups down. “Mkay, so the Itadoris anddd… got it.”
Sukuna almost audibly groans with his eye roll, now he’s stuck with you? What a pain… The end of class couldn’t come sooner. He glares at you as he leaves, grabbing his pack of cigarettes and smoking in the bathrooms. You look at Yuji in confusion.
“That’s your twin brother?”
“Yeah, I think he was dropped.”
You laugh at him and shake your head, he’s definitely funnier than his moody counterpart. You head to your next class after exchanging numbers. The rest of the school day goes on like normal. Luckily, you don’t have any other classes with Yuji’s brother, but you do share a math class with Yuji, which is fun. You leave to work, a cafe run by a tired old man, but he’s a nice guy. You get there early somehow, changing into your work clothes and heading to the front to take orders.
You didn’t think the day would be worse, but who else enters the cafe but that annoying tattooed guy? Oh, and Yuji, but he’s not the issue here. There’s a third guy too, he doesn’t look much like them.
“Hey, customers are here, stop staring and take their orders, please.” Nanami tells you.
“Right, sorry.” You mumble and take their orders, Sukuna purposely picking something difficult. Yuji smiles at you and sits at their normal spot.
“This history project makes no sense, we haven’t even been taught this thing and he’s assigning us a project! Can you believe this, Choso?” Yuji groans and sips his drink when you set it in front of him.
“It’s like a research project, and we need to sort out who's doing what.” You say and hand who Yuji called “Choso” his black coffee. You set down the difficult order Sukuna made and he examines it.
“Hmm…”
“What are you doing?”
“Making sure it was made correctly.”
“I didn’t poison it, dude, it has everything you asked for.”
“Hmmmmm…” Your eye twitches.
“You’re not getting a refund, Sukuna, she made it exactly like you asked, you’re such a pain in the ass.” Yuji rolls his eyes and looks at you. “Just ignore him. We need to plan the project anyways. Sukuna isn’t going to do anything, I already know that.”
Sukuna, who doesn’t deny it, opens a bunch of straws, rips small parts of the wrapping paper, balls them up, and throws them across the table. One hits Yuji, one lands onto the floor, one lands in Choso’s coffee, and one hits you while another lands in your hair. Choso glares at his younger brother and rolls his eyes, moving the ball out of his coffee before taking a sip.
“Every day, I wonder how I am even related to you.” Choso mumbles.
“Oh, you say that about me but not the idiot next to you?”
“At least Yuji isn’t a literal menace like you.”
“Can we please focus on the project?” Yuji sighs.
“Whatever.” Sukuna grumbles and keeps tossing trash around.
“I’ll research the start half if you research the end half.” Yuji says to you.
“Mkay, I can also make the presentation.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Sukuna asks.
“Don’t act like you plan to help, idiot! The school already caught you for vandalizing the bathroom stalls! You’re gonna be busy cleaning all that up before you can even work on the project, and I know you’ll take your sweet ass time cleaning everything up!” Yuji argues with Sukuna.
“Really? First day back and you’re already in trouble?” You tilt your head.
“Don’t act so surprised, everyone knows he’s trouble.” Choso says pointedly.
“Oh, I guess you’ve never met him before today, huh? He gets in trouble quite a lot.” Yuji grins. “Anyways, we should let you get back to work, so have fun!”
Yuji leaves a tip for you and you start cleaning the table, not seeing the way Sukuna’s gaze lingers when you bend to pick up the trash from the ground. You hit your head standing back up and swear you can hear someone snicker.
You drive home, though leaving the parking lot of the cafe takes you almost an hour since your key wouldn’t work. When you get to your apartment, you enter through the front door and cook yourself a simple dinner. You count your tips and see a piece of paper you didn’t notice before.
“Don’t sit there tomorrow or I’ll key your car.”
Wonder who that could be from.
The next day, you head to class, getting there early, and Sukuna is already in “his seat”, giving you a glare as his eyes trail down your body. He really can’t stand you, he decides again. Your outfit today sits a little too perfect, being just tight enough that if someone was looking hard enough (which Sukuna was), they could see the outline of your bra.
You chew on the end of your pencil, a bad habit you’re yet to break, and Yuji shares the research doc to you. You split the work between the two of you and Sukuna just sits in the doc typing the same three phrases over and over.
“Stop that.” Yuji smacks his brother’s arm.
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You’re typing ‘death and destruction’ as if you’re manifesting it, stop.”
“I’m not just typing that…”
“Don’t get me started on ‘the despair is endless’ and ‘this class shouldn’t exist’. What are you, twelve?”
“I’m twenty-one, like you, dumbass!”
“I’m not the dumbass writing edgy shit on the doc!”
“Oh my god, you two, just let him type his edgy shit and continue researching.” You groan.
Yuji huffs in frustration and continues his research while you check the doc to see what Sukuna is doing. There are fire emojis in the middle of your typing, the words “you work tn?” near the bottom of the page. You sigh and humor him, talking through the document.
“No, why?”
“So I don’t get to throw trash at you later?”
“Nope.”
“How sad.”
You look at him and he has a smirk. You roll your eyes and leave when class is over, tripping over your own feet. He laughs at your misfortune and grunts when Yuji smacks him in the head.
“What was that for?!”
“Don’t go flirting with her, she’s a nice girl who doesn’t need someone like you to fuck up her happiness.”
“I’m not flirting with her!”
“I saw the fucking doc, dipshit. You’re not slick.”
“I was asking if she’d be around for me to torment.”
“You and I both know what your intentions were.”
The tattooed twin grunts and walks off, lighting a cigarette and tripping some nerd who apologizes for being in his way. He wasn’t flirting. He can’t stand you, he tells himself. He can’t stand your quick remarks to his words, can’t stand your stupid doe eyes, the way they squint when you’re focused on typing after the third typo in a row, can’t stand the way you purse your lips and the slight smile on your face when he and Yuji are arguing, definitely not wondering what it’d be like to feel them against his own. Because he wasn’t flirting. Yuji doesn’t know what he’s talking about.
Sukuna smokes and half-ass scrubs the stall he vandalized yesterday. His thoughts are not focused on you, your stupid face, or your dumb words. Totally not. He wasn’t flirting, he reassures himself again. He’s not interested in you. Even if he was, he wouldn’t admit that. You’re just some girl in his class. Not important at all.
He’s late to the cafe and Yuji is fixing the mistakes in the research document. Choso sips his usual black coffee and scrolls on his phone.
“You’re late.” The elder brother points out.
“Had to clean the bathrooms.”
“I see. Your barista friend isn’t here.”
“She’s not my ‘friend’, Choso.”
“She’s Yuji’s friend.”
“Doesn’t make her mine by default, she can have the brat.”
“Says Mister Flirts With Her.” Yuji grins.
“I wasn’t flirting dammit!”
“Why are you getting so defensive, huh?”
“I am not! You’re just a pain in my ass and annoying the hell out of me!”
“Stop screaming, Nanamin will kick us out!” Yuji frowns.
“I still don’t get how you’re so buddy-buddy with the old man.” Choso mumbles.
“He’s pretty cool. Kind of mean, but he makes delicious bread.”
“Literally how the hell are you even aware of that?” Sukuna scoffs.
“Unlike you, I actually talk to people, and get along with them!”
“Whatever…” He scoffs.
Sukuna seems bored. He taps the table to a catchy tune and just waits until it’s time for him to go home. He watches a few groups walk into the cafe and at Yuji working diligently on his laptop.
“At least she does her work. I’d hate to do this project alone.” Yuji says to no one in particular.
“Do you do anything else besides complain?”
“Shut the fuck up, Sukuna. Let me think out loud. And you complain more than I do.”
“Liar.”
“How the hell is that a lie?”
Choso chuckles at his younger brothers. “Sukuna, you do have a streak for complaining more than Yuji.”
“Oh, dare I bring you into this, Choso?”
“You’re right; withdrawn.”
“Let’s just go home already.”
“Yeah, fine.” Yuji frowns and shuts his laptop.
When they get home, Sukuna feels a buzz in his pocket. He checks his phone. There is a text from Gojo, the university’s pretty boy.
Party at my place next Thursday.
This should be fun.
Taglist: @jinxiewritings @midnight-138 @sukioyakio @toffeebrat @hypothetical-hypocritical
@sh0ot1ngst4r @tojideckmuncher @sterzin @theirlgarfield @mikari73
@watyousayin @cherriee-ee @kyojurokoibito @xwhatiams @notsocherries
@ohohcandy @aruraa @samaraxmorgan (Comment or ask and I’ll add you!!)
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2amriize · 8 hours
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˚⟡˖ when they say something really hurtful and then try to make it up - RIIZE
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ᡣ𐭩 masterlist genre angst pairing bf!riize x reader
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ᯓ★ SHOTARO
"You're completely useless."
You never thought you would hear such harsh and painful words coming from Shotaro. Though you tried to say something, the words wouldn’t come out as a lump formed in your throat. Shotaro's expression changed instantly, filled with regret for what he had said. Without hesitation, he moved closer and wrapped his arms around you, apologizing repeatedly. You stood still, still processing what you had heard.
"Forget what I said, please. I don’t think that at all, Y/n," he said, holding your arms and looking at you, his lips trembling slightly as he spoke. "Please, please forgive me... I don't want you to hate me. I was so stupid to say that... You know how much I need you in my life."
ᯓ★ EUNSEOK
"You're pathetic."
Those words hurt more than anything else in the conversation. With nothing left to say, you stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind you. Eunseok instantly felt bad, sitting down on the bed with his head in his hands, replaying the words in his head and regretting them deeply. You spent the night on the couch, not wanting to be near him.
The next morning, he came to you, sitting beside you on the couch and trying to take your hand, but you pulled it away, glaring at him. "I know I can’t take back what I said, but I want you to know I deeply regret it," he said after a pause. "I was frustrated, and I took it out on you, but I love everything about you. Please forgive me."
ᯓ★ SUNGCHAN
"I don’t even care about you anymore."
You had been arguing the entire drive home, but his words left you in stunned silence. Realizing what he had said, Sungchan glanced at you with regret, his grip on the steering wheel tightening.
"Y/n, I didn’t mean to…"
"Stop the car," you demanded coldly, and Sungchan obeyed immediately. You quickly got out, not wanting to be around him after his hurtful words. Sungchan, panicking, found a place to park and hurried out to follow you, not wanting you to walk alone at night.
"Baby, wait. I don’t know why I said that. I’m so sorry," he admitted, catching up and standing in front of you so you’d look at him. "It’s not true. You’re the most important person in my life. I just… I’m scared of losing you, and I was angry, and… and I’m stupid. Can you forgive me?"
ᯓ★ WONBIN
"You're the reason nothing ever works out for me."
Wonbin's words left you speechless, staring at him silently as a lump formed in your throat. The argument had started over something trivial, so you never expected to hear such harsh words from him. Realizing what he had just said, his face softened almost immediately, regret flashing in his eyes, but you were already leaving the room.
Less than five minutes later, Wonbin found you sitting on the couch. He slowly approached, his head hanging low. "Y/n, I... I didn’t mean that. I was really angry… Can I sit?" he murmured, and without looking at him, you nodded. "I deeply regret what I said. I want you to know that you're not the reason for anything bad in my life. In fact, you're the best thing I have right now," he said, taking your hand as he searched for your gaze. "Please forgive me, I didn’t mean it."
ᯓ★ SEUNGHAN
"I was happier before I met you."
The moment you heard Seunghan say those words, you felt your heart shatter. You both stood there, staring at each other. Your eyes filled with tears, while his were full of regret. After a few seconds, you lowered your head, and Seunghan quickly moved toward you, grabbing your hand, which you instantly pulled away.
"I didn’t mean that, Y/n. Oh my god, I’m so sorry," Seunghan ran a hand through his hair, shocked at what he had said, feeling horrible about how much he had hurt you. "I love you so much. You’re the happiest thing that’s ever happened to me. Please, forgive everything I said. I’m so sorry."
ᯓ★ SOHEE
"No one else would ever want you."
Sohee had never said anything so hurtful to you before. Even though you had fought before, you’d never reached the point of saying things that would hurt each other. Your eyes welled up with tears, but you didn’t want Sohee to see you cry, so you quickly left his apartment, heading to a nearby park to cry alone.
You spent an hour by yourself, lost in your thoughts, until you noticed someone sit beside you, handing you a bouquet of your favorite flowers. You looked at him, your eyes swollen. Sohee felt immediate regret the moment those words left his mouth. "That was the most unfair thing I’ve ever said. I’m so sorry... Can you forgive me?" There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. "Anyone who knows you will see how amazing you are and be lucky to have you. It’s just… I’m scared of losing you."
ᯓ★ ANTON
"I wish I’d never met you."
The moment Anton said those words, the room went silent. You stared at him in disbelief, not able to process what he had just said so coldly. Immediately, Anton tried to reach for your arm, but you stepped away from him, looking at him with shock and disbelief.
"I… I don’t wish that," he whispered, his voice trembling slightly as he looked at you, his eyes beginning to fill with tears. He tried to move closer to you. "It’s stupid what I said. It’s the worst thing I could have said, and I’m so sorry… I hate myself for it."
You watched as Anton lowered his head, tears slipping down his cheeks as he sat on the edge of the bed. "Please don’t hate me for that… Don’t leave me, please."
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ᡣ𐭩 masterlist taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor
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hyunebunx · 2 days
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˖˙ ᰋ ── 💜- 'a tender kiss on the partner's shoulder'
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﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff
﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: you and teri requested the same thing so i tried to make it extra fluffy <3 i hope you enjoy, my lovess <3 (if this doesn't show up in the tags again i'm gonna scream)
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You could admit without any hesitation that cooking for your loved ones was your favorite way of spoiling and showering them with your unwavering affection. Seeing their faces light up at the sight of their favorite meal after a tiring, long day was an unmatched experience, along with the content sighs of delight and the faint smiles adorning their features as they chewed happily, recharging.
It was a love language, described beautifully on every page of your treasured, worn cookbook. The one you’ve been handling with care from the moment you decided to learn to cook your best friend’s comfort food back in high school when she desperately needed a pick-me-up.
Years later, honing those skills came in handy as you began cooking for every gathering, be it with friends or family, feeding yourself with their genuine joy and bright smiles. After all, nothing spelt ‘I love you’ quite like a homecooked meal, prepared with care and utmost attention as you danced to the beat of your favorite songs in your small kitchen.
And one person in particular knew all about it, receiving your love in all forms but especially through your cooking. Seungmin had never felt this special until he met you, the person who would bend over backwards to bring a simple smile to his face, longing to make him happy every minute of every day spent by your side.
So naturally, he wished to return the sentiment, needing to bring you even a quarter of all that happiness you gifted him every day.
“Good morning, my love.” Seungmin feels you before he hears you, your arms wrapping around his middle snuggly as your chin moves to peer over his shoulder curiously. “Whatcha’ doin'?”
He shakes his head affectionately, flipping over a pancake with a smile. “I mean, I was trying to surprise you with breakfast in bed but it looks like you had other plans.”
“Oh.”
Not your fault the bed was cold, which had you waking up in search of him on autopilot. Nobody could blame you for missing your boyfriend when you spent every free moment glued to each other’s sides.
Even so, he can tell you feel bad, voice dropping as a pout takes over sunny features. But he can also tell how much you appreciate the gesture, tightening the embrace before placing a tender kiss on his shoulder, lips lingering there when you speak again. “I’m sorry. I can go back if you want me to.”
“Yes, please.” He nods, placing another pancake on the plate next to the stove, diligently building his syrupy pancake tower like a skilled architect.
You laugh, kissing his nape. “Alright, baby. Anything for you.”
Yet as you try to unwrap your arms from around him, one of his hands grabs your wrist to keep you in place. “Not…right now. Maybe in, um, two minutes?”
His attempts at keeping you near a little bit longer were absolutely adorable, heart melting into a red puddle resembling strawberry jam. How could you say no?
So, you embrace him again, smiling from ear to ear as you both bask in each other’s love while the sun struggles to rise on this cloudy morning. You begin talking and conversing about mundane things as two minutes turn into five, and then ten, when you pause to plant kisses all over his upper back and shoulders, congratulating him for finishing the food as he giggles shyly. Praising your talented love will remain one of your favorite activities as long as you draw breath.
“You can go now.” He says, swiftly turning around in your embrace. “But take this first, and don’t lose it, alright?”
You’re confused, brows rising in wonder as Seungmin doesn’t elaborate but moves your arms to settle over his shoulder, his circling your waist naturally. “What – “
He silences you with a kiss, the corners of his mouth turning upwards briefly as you finally catch on, amused, before bringing you closer so you’re chest to chest, just as the first ray of sunshine sneaks past your ajar window.
While he would never expect you to return the pancakes, his kiss was another story. You needed to hold on to it, guarding it with your life until the right moment came along and you could surprise him by returning the love tenfold and stealing his breath away.
You know what they say, an eye for an eye. But in this case, a kiss for another kiss.
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strnilolover · 1 day
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⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .˚ Daddy’s Home ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .˚
⋆。‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧。⋆ ⋆。‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧。⋆ ⋆。‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧。⋆ ⋆。‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧。⋆ ⋆。‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧
♫ Hey Daddy (Daddy’s Home) • Usher
⋆。‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧。⋆ ⋆。‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧。⋆ ⋆。‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧。⋆ ⋆。‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧。⋆ ⋆。‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧
♡ Dad/Dilf!Chris x Mom!Reader
♡ Warnings : smut, unprotected pnv (be careful y’all), hair pulling, pet names (daddy, baby, ma, babe, whore), breeding, degrading, praising, slight spanking, dirty talk?, almost getting caught, aftercare, fluff, I think that’s all?
♡ Wc : tbc
♡ A/N : we all love Dad/Dilf!Matt but like what about Dad/Dilf!Chris? Both men can give me their babies and I would be happy for the rest of my life. Sorry if this is absolute shittt <3
⋆。‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧。⋆ ⋆。‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧。⋆ ⋆。‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧。⋆ ⋆。‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧。⋆ ⋆。‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧
Chris was coming home today. Having spent the last few weeks in Boston with his brothers to visit family, leaving you with your five year old daughter Amelia.
You were excited to say the least, and so was the hyper ball of energy who ran around outback with her toys. Having to call Chris every night or every other night to talk was just pure torture, for both you and your daughter. You could tell she missed her daddy dearly, having not really spent so much time away from him.
You smiled as you watched her from the chair you sat on, on the patio. Soaking in the sun as she played on the playground Chris had built for her. “Be careful sweetie!” You called out, watching her small body roughly run across the playground, growing concerned about her hurting herself.
“Okie mommy!” She cheerfully said back, slowing her pace a little as he slid down the slide, repeating the actions. You just shook your head, your heart swelling as you watched how carefree she was.
Just then, you heard a car pull into the drive way, your head snapping toward the fence as you see a figure get out of the car. You smiled widely, knowing exactly who it was. “Amelia, baby. Come here!” You said excitedly, your daughter running to you quickly.
Grabbing her hand you lead her inside, closing the back door behind you as you stood there, now facing the garage door. Your nerves were set on fire, the butterflies growing increasingly in your stomach. Even after all this time with Chris, he never failed to make you nervous.
The door leading into the house opened quickly, Chris walking in with his bags, a huge smile plastered on his face as he spotted his two favorite girls. “Daddy!” Amelia squealed, letting go of your hand to run towards Chris. His arms opening invitingly as he picked her up, spinning her around.
“There’s my favorite girl! How’s my lil bug doin’?” He mumbled as he pressed a kiss to her temple, hugging her tightly. You stood there, watching the way he held her against him, and you smiled as you crossed your arms.
His eyes flicked up, meeting yours as he continued to hold Amelia. You smiled giddily, blush rising to your cheeks as you walked over to them. He smiled in return, putting your daughter down slowly as he bent back up, wrapping his arms around you.
“And here’s my other favorite girl.” he whispered, head lowering to press a kiss to your lips which you happily reciprocated. You melted, arms coming to wrap around his neck as he pulled you closer to him. One you pulled away, you sighed contently, resting your forehead against his. “How’re you doin’ ma?” He asked, his breath tickling your face.
You hummed, “I’m doing better now that you’re home. Missed you so much baby.” You whispered, arms tightening around him more. He returned the act, holding you tighter. “I missed you too.”
“Bleh, that’s gross!” You heard your daughter say from beside you guys, a laugh bubbling out of yours and Chris’ throats. You pulled away, Chris turning his attention to your daughter.
“Mommy and daddy just love each other very much, lil bug.” He said to her. “And I love you even more!” He says as he ran towards her. She squealed, turning and running in the opposite direction as he chased her.
You shook your head, chuckling to yourself as you watched Chris chase her. Picking up his bags he left, you carried them to your bedroom, setting them near the closet for him to deal with later.
-
Dinner was all made, Amelia’s bath was all done and now Chris was tucking her into bed for the night. You could hear the soft giggles of her voice echo down the hall as Chris read her a story and was being his goofy self.
You laid there, night shorts and tank top on your body as the warm covers engulfed you. You could hear Chris close your daughter’s door softly, his feet padding down the hallway coming closer to your room.
The door creaked open softly, his large frame walking through the door way in nothing but his black sweatpants, shirt nowhere to be seen. You’d be lying if you said the sight didn’t turn you on, because it did. You were so touch starved for your husband, those few weeks making it feel like years since you last saw him.
He closed the door behind him, locking it swiftly before he made his way to the bed. Climbing in, he scooted closer to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling your back flush against his chest.
“I missed you so much ma.” He whispered, his breath hot against your ear as you felt his nose trace the side of your face. You’d shuttered, a smile spreading across your lips. “I missed you so much too — missed having you here with me.” You say, humming softly as his mouth found your neck, peppering it with small kisses.
“Yeah?” He hummed, teeth starting to nip at your skin softly. “Missed having you pressed against me — it was torture not being able to touch you for so long.” He groaned out, his hips pushing forward against your ass. You gasped, your own hips voluntarily pushing back into his.
“Show me how much you missed me.” You whispered. After those words left your mouth, he turned you over, his body hovering over yours as he dipped down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.
You moaned against his mouth, hands reaching up to tangle in his hair as your thighs squeezed together, searching for more friction as you felt your panties grow damp. He nipped your bottom lip, causing a gasp to escape as he slid his tongue in, exploring your mouth as you easily submitted to his movements.
As he continued his assault on your mouth, his hands roamed down, gripping the edge of your tank top and tugging it up your body. Disconnecting your lips briefly so he could pull the fabric over your head, tossing it somewhere in the room as his lips came back down, trailing kisses down your neck and collarbone this time.
Chris kissed between your breasts, making his way to your right one and taking the hardened nub between his lips. He sucked harshly as his hand came to twist your left bud between his fingertips. You moaned, back arching into his touch as pleasure pricked your skin.
He pulled away slightly, hooded eyes looking up into yours. “You need to be quiet ma, can’t have everyone knowing what we’re doin’ hm?” He mumbled as he directed his mouth to your left bud now, lips wrapping around it as his hand tweaked your right one. You nodded desperately in understanding, panting harshly at his ministrations.
He pulled away, lips now kissing down your stomach to the waistband of your shorts as he looked back up at you. Smirking he grabbed them, starting to tug them down. “Lift your hips baby.” He said, and you obliged. Lifting your hips for him to slide your shorts and panties off in one swift motion.
Once your clothing were discarded he leaned down, pressing a few soft kisses to your inner thighs before pulling away, making you whine impatiently. “Shh ma — so impatient.” He spoke out, his frame crawling off the bed momentarily as he shuffled his sweatpants and boxers down his legs. Once his clothes were fully discarded, he climbed back on top of you, smirking as he grabbed your shoulder and flipped you over.
He grabbed your hips, pulling them high in the air as a hand pushed on your lower back, causing you to arch impossibly. He groaned at the sight in front of him, “god you’re so beautiful baby.” He said breathlessly, a hand coming down to swipe through your wet folds, eliciting a moan from you, your hips pushing into his hand.
“Ah — such a desperate little whore. Did you miss my cock baby, hm?” He asked, his hand pulling away, grip tightening on your waist. “S-so much, missed your cock so much.” You whined out. He just chuckled, his hand gripping his cock and stroking a few times before he lined up to your entrance.
Your hips swayed slightly, feeling his tip push against your entrance. His hips snapped forward without warning, a loud moan reverberating through your chest, eyes rolling back. Chris’ hand grabbed your hair, tugging it out of the pillow you had subconsciously pushed your face in. He tugged your head up, his other hand coming forward to shove two of his fingers into your mouth.
“I said to be quiet yeah? Such a fucking whore.” He gritted through his teeth as his hips continued to snap relentlessly into your own. “M’sorry daddy!” You whined out, the words muffled around his fingers. Your hands gripping the sheets below you.
“Mhm I bet you are. I bet you’re loving this hm?” He said, angling his hips to push deeper into you. “Missed my cock so much that you just have to let everyone know.” He groaned as he felt you clench around him.
You just whined, his hand letting go of your hair and fingers leaving your mouth. Causing your body to drop against the mattress, face burying back into the pillow. His hands found purchase on your hips again, slamming into you roughly. You suddenly felt a sting on your ass, Chris’ hand coming down to land a hard smack against it. You whimpered, walls clenching around him again.
“Ah — fuck! B-baby.” You moaned, your hips now pushing back to meet his thrusts. “Doin’ so good ma, takin’ me so well.” He whispered, landing another smack onto your reddening ass, causing you to whine once more.
Incoherent babbles left your lips as Chris’ hips picked up the pace, angling just right to hit that spot deep inside you that had your eyes rolling to the back of your skull. Your walls clenched around him once more, his body leaning forward to plaster his chest against your back.
“You gettin’ close baby? Gonna cum and make a mess on my dick. Go head’ make a mess f’me.” He moaned, teeth nipping your shoulder as you nodded, body shaking.
You felt your insides grow tight, the knot in your stomach pulled until it finally snapped. Your body convulsed, coming around Chris’ dick as his hand came around to rub your swollen clit. He growled at the feeling, helping you through your high as high pitched moans left your lips, sounding like music to his ears.
He lifted his chest back up, gripping your hips tightly once more as he began to chase his own high. “m’gonna cum in this pussy, give you another baby yeah?” He growled as he plowed into you, and you nodded, your body tilting on the edge of overstimulation.
With a final thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, groaning as he released thick ropes of his cum, painting your walls white. You moaned at the feeling, pushing your hips into him as you felt so full.
You guys stayed like that for a moment, regaining your composure until you felt him slowly begin to slip out of you. You hissed, already feeling empty now that he wasn’t inside you. Your body collapsed against the bed, the feeling of his cum and your juices dripping down your thighs.
Chris laid next to you, panting softly as he turned you toward him, pulling you into his sweaty chest. “You okay love? You with me?” He asked softly, pressing light kisses to your head. You hummed, burying your face into his chest.
“Baby?” He asked once more, and this time you lifted your head. Your hooded eyes looking into his own as you nodded. “M’okay, I’m with you. That was — amazing.” You said breathlessly, your own breath coming out in soft pants. He smiled down at you, pecking your lips. “Wasn’t too rough?” He asked and you just shook your head.
After a few moments of comfortable silence, you hear a knock on your bedroom door. Your body immediately shooting up, eyes wide darting to Chris’. You scrambled for the blanket, covering your body as Chris slipped out of bed, grabbing his clothes and slipping them back on as he made his way to the door.
You watched as he opened it, your room too dark for anyone to notice you may have been awake. “Daddy?” Your daughter whispered out, a hint of sadness layered in her voice.
“Hey bug, what’s wrong sweetie?” Chris asked, kneeling down in front of her and pulling her into a hug. “M-mommy sounded hurt… is she okay?” She sniffled softly, and your faced heated. Chris nodded his head, scooping Amelia up into his arms and carried her down the hall. You could hear his faint voice.
“Mommy is okay bug, she was just having a nightmare. She’s okay, I promise.” He whispered. “Pinky promise?” Amelia’s muffled voice asked. Chris’ own voice replying in return, “pinky promise.”
After ten minutes or so, Chris came back. Closing the door once more behind him as he climbed into bed next to your naked body. He smirked as he pulled you to him, “you and that mouth sure know how to make someone worry.” He chuckled mockingly.
You smacked his arm lightly, “it was your fault!” You whisper-shouted to him, but laughed in return. “Mhm, you loved it.” He retaliated, pressing a kiss to your lips. And he was right, you did love it. But, now your child might just be scarred for the rest of her life.
You rolled your eyes playfully, “you know I did, now help me clean up please?” You asked, and he nodded, slipping away into the bathroom connected to your room. Hearing the water run then shut off, he came back out with a warm rag.
He walks back over to you, slowly turning you over as he takes the rag to your inner thighs, wiping softly. He made his way up your thighs, finally reaching your core as he wiped gently there too. You hissed softly at the feeling, but were grateful for his help.
Once he was done, he threw the rag into the laundry basket, grabbing a shirt of his on the way back to you once more. He helped you sit up, slipping his shirt over your head and then climbing back into bed with you. You snuggled into his chest, bodies tangled with one another as you both drifted peacefully to sleep.
⋆。‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧。⋆ ⋆。‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧。⋆ ⋆。‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧。⋆ ⋆。‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧。⋆ ⋆。‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧
© Strnilolover
⋆。‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧。⋆ ⋆。‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧。⋆ ⋆。‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧。⋆ ⋆。‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧。⋆ ⋆。‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧
♡ A/N : this is absolute shit, sorry y’all. I’ll add the word count later…I need to get better at my smut cause I feel like this was rushed LOL.
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pixiescoffeeshop · 3 days
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༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚Hello There! My name is....Bluey ya! Anyways, so I was wondering if you could do a number five five by like making him deal with the apocalypse dilemmaજ⁀➴ ⊹₊⟡⋆ and maybe he starts seeing a girl near the coffee shop and starts telling his mind out to her? Could you I mean ya , I'm not the best at request...
Stay Bright Pix˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ
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𐙚₊˚⊹ like i’m stuck in an apocalypse.
a requested five hargreeves short fic . . 📞🐈‍⬛
context : five finally gets back from the apocalypse, and when he does, he makes a visit at griddy’s donuts. — and he sees a girl there.
warnings : minor cursing .ᐟ
author’s note : THANKKKK YOU FOR REQUESTING !! also,, so sorry this took a while to respond back to 😭 but i’m here now !! your message is so sweet, stay bright too friend 🤍 without further ado, happy reading .ᐟ
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five didn’t want to deal with the whole .. apocalypse thing, he really just wanted to see his family again. but when that family has their own issues of their own, it’s hard to keep them all in one room without practically slicing each other’s head off.
so late at night, he made his way towards a place from his childhood. a place where they used to be able to still get along. and that was griddy’s donuts.
despite the place being a popular spot in town, looked old and abandoned now. the smell of espresso flourished in the brunette’s nose just moments before he sat down and ordered.
“hello, ready to order?” a girl, younger, had her notepad out, with her own black pen. for the first time in about 50 or more years, he’d recieved a genuine smile from her. she looked kind and sweet. his gaze had been broken off once she waved her hand in his face.
“oh uh — yeah, um,” he looked down at the menu. “can i just get some coffee? black.” five handed the waiteress the menu. she wrote down on her notepad with a nod, “coming right up.” she gave another wide smile before walking to the back to grab that cup of hot coffee for him.
a few minutes later, she came back and placed the cup before him. “enjoy.” she spoke. “thank you,” he glanced at her name tag.
(name).
“(name).” he nodded at her as he sipped the coffee. she gave another smile before turning and walking away.
— 𐙚₊˚⊹ ☕️
(name) continued to clean in the back as she listened to her tunes through her headphones. she hummed to the beat as she sweeped, and once she finished with the dishes and everything else and pulled her headphones off her head.
and instead of the usual chatter and noise that echoed across the diner, there was no noise at all. it was dead and completely silent.
the girl walked out from the back and found only but unconscious and bloodied bodies on the floor. only standing in the middle of the room was the same boy that ordered the black coffee.
the boy turned around to face her, her jaw practically on the floor. his eyes widened, thinking she’d scream or yell. —
“holy shit.”
was the only thing she breathed. five hunched over, the side of his stomach stinging. she picked up her feet and quickly took the first aid from the back of the kitchen. she ran over to the uniformed boy and let him lean on counter, his face painted with agony.
she panted, looking over at the bloody wound his hand held and his face. “remove your hand. i’ll — i’ll try treating it.” she opened the first aid, “agnes? agnes!” she yelled for the other waitress but did not get a response back.
“damn it, she must’ve bolted the second she heard the gunshots — why, — why, how?” she started asking questions as she treated the wound. he hissed, “i’m sorry! sorry.” she repeated, treating it a little more gently.
as she bandaged it, he sighed with relief. “who are you? did you kill these men?” (name) furrowed her brows at him. he shook his head, staring at her eyes. “i mean — yes. i did, but,” he let out a heavy sigh.
she bit her lip, how would she get him to talk?
“i’m (name) (last name). i’m a daughter, i’m only fourteen. but, i wanna know your story.” he continued to drown himself in her eyes. “five hargreeves. i’m thirteen but my consciousness is really older than it looks.” he clicked his tongue.
they continued to sit in silence, (name) leaned her back on the counter beside him. “you mean, the hargreeves family? the superhero family?” then her eyes widened. “you’re the boy. the one who went missing years ago.” five scrunched his face.
“how’d you know that?” he asked. “people talk.” she winked. he rubbed the bandaged side of his stomach. “i have five days to get rid of an apocalypse. in. this. body.” he emphasized with another heavy sigh. she wanted to ask more questions, but she let him unload before asking anything else.
“and my family’s are filled with crack-headed assholes, and the handler’s up my ass.” he scratched the back of his neck. she smiled a little at the sight and thought of a little boy cursing as such. “and the thing is,” he sighed again as he sat up.
“i wanted to go here to unwind and remember the only times me and my siblings ever got along.” he played with his fingers. (name) watched him talk. “but now, they’re just.. a bunch of dipshits.” he tossed one of the dead guy’s arms away.
“what about you? i’ve been stuck in an apocalypse to experience high school, how is it?” he finally asked her.
“like i’m stuck in an apocalypse.” she retorted back with a smile in attempts to lighten the mood. he snickered lightly, “always thought it would seem so. thank you, (name).” he finally returned the smile.
she smiled wider, “hey, you intrigued me. can’t help it.”
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caterpillarinacave · 9 months
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I would like to thank retail for allowing me the pleasure of ringing up such incredibly unpleasant, condescending, bitchy people.
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reader x dog shifter 141 [pt.2]
(If you haven't seen it yet, here's part one.)
It’s been a couple weeks, and you’re starting to catch on to just how smart your dogs are.
Not that you know what they actually are—but they’ve got this weirdly human intelligence behind their eyes, and weirdly human personalities. The Great Dane likes to sit on the recliner in your living room, regal and commanding, often watching your front yard whenever the gardener would come over. The gardener’s son replaced him once for a job, leaving grass cuttings in the driveway, and he was all huffy about it. It amused you at first, but then you realized his judgement wasn’t reserved for strangers. He was even more huffy the time you accidentally burned a steak. (Jeez, since when was he a dad?) Not to mention the empty whiskey glasses he likes to keep around, but that's not right—dogs can't have alcohol, can they?
The German Shepherd, on the other hand, is surprisingly clingy—but not in a bump-into-your-leg or overtly cuddly kind of way. Instead, he follows you while never begging for attention, attentive and patient as though a soldier awaiting orders. You’ve been jump-scared one too many times by his presence, when you think you’re alone and he appears out of thing air. A massive giant of a dog, with paws as silent as a shadow. And he’s stubborn—doesn’t initiate contact, but you swear you’ve caught a subtle bashful glance. Especially when you scratch behind his ears and along the scar of his cheek and chin.
But what the Shepherd lacks in open affection, the Labrador makes up tenfold. He doesn't pester about it, though, simply hopping up to your side on the couch to curl up or placing his muzzle on top of your knees. Still, while probably the most obedient out of the four, you’ve seen him get roped into food heists with the Foxhound, or stalking as closely and silently as the Shepherd. Very much the little brother who tags along with whatever. But you can't stay mad at him for long, either—not when he knows how to apologize—bringing you a freshly chomped-off flower from the backyard whenever you get mad. Then he'll sit at your heels with a faint tail wag, whining 'til you're settled and appeased.
The Foxhound is perhaps the most talkative, in both a noisy and conversational way. His joy is unrelenting around you, and he greats you like you’d expect any other dog. Still, he’s awfully communicative. It’s how you’ve learned their names—with you wandering aloud what to call them, and him making faces at every suggestion. He eventually settled for playing retriever: playing charades by bringing you back bottles and bars of soap. For the Great Dane, he grabbed an old receipt from the trash. For the Shepherd, he threw on a sheet. He seemed awfully confused on what to do for the Labrador, though, and just kept whining as if in apology.
“So Soap, Price, Ghost, and…,” you trail off, glancing at the Labrador with a slight pout. “Oh, I’m sorry, boy. I really don’t know what to call you. And Soap here seems like he’s run out of braincells.”
Ghost snorts in amusement, which is returned by Soap’s unfettered glare.
The next morning, though, there really is no explanation as to how Soap learned the alphabet, how to write, or to arrange your bedsheets in the following name: GAZ.
_
Bonus Thoughts:
"Aha... what the fuck."
Price has face-palmed (face-pawed?) and Ghost just walks over and calmly almost slapstick-esque baps Soap on the head. Meanwhile, Gaz looks dejected, pressing his forehead to the front door, like he's expecting you to kick them out in the next five seconds.
Not that you would, of course—but we can queue the mild horror and existential questioning of what the hell these dogs actually are. You call your friend to rant about your theory—that they could be escapees from a top secret government laboratory, or spies from another country. She just says to enter them into a dog show, or make ‘em celebrities on social media.
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chelseeebe · 4 months
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bump n’ grind
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a lil continuation to gimme a hand wherein our lovely reader helps eddie out after an embarrassing mistake.
18+ mdni. again, mostly just smut. maybe some angst towards the end i guessss. eddie munson x female reader.
eddie’s on cloud nine.
his head floating well above the pretty pink room he was currently in.
not entirely sure how he ended up here but also not at all angry about it. a night of rum and beer had lead him to this.
sarah.. savanna.. something, sits atop of his lap, bouncing off of his thighs like a jacked up rabbit.
he’s clawing at her back, trying and failing, to keep a steady grip on her wild body. appreciating the soft squeaks that left her mouth with every bounce.
and before he can really think about it enough to stop his mouth, he says it. wanting to dig his own grave the second his lips spread.
a long, drawn out iteration of your name.
she stops, immediately. breathless as she grips his shoulders, “what’d you say?”
his cock aches and his cheeks burn, any hope that she’d just ignore it and continue had flown out of the window, “what?” acting clueless, “i didn’t.. didn’t say anything.”
eddie knows full well what had slipped out of his loose lips, muscle memory from the embarrassing amount of times he had whined your name while imagining that it was your hand wrapped around his cock instead.
“you said somebody else’s name,” she frowns, sounding far too close to a possessive girlfriend rather than the one night stand that she actually was.
“did i? i don’t really remember.. does it matter?” with full sincerity, wondering if she was going to stay on his dick or climb off and throw him out.
“if i’m having sex with someone, i at least expect them to know my name,” she scowls, clambering from his lap to the empty space next to him.
“shit,” he mumbles, head in his hands, “fuck. i’m sorry,” sobering up instantly, embarrassed by his blunder.
she sighs, taking pity on his pathetic self, “is she your ex or something?” re-dressing herself with an old t-shirt, rightfully putting an end to their encounter.
“no..” eddie frowns, shaking his head, “she’s my.. my friend.”
best friend actually. making it all the more confusing and complicated. he’d spare her of all the gory details, for her sake.
“oh,” the girl gawps, stifling her laugh. “you should tell her,” leaning over to grab her phone, no doubt to tell all of her friends about eddie’s embarrassing freudian slip.
he’d deserve it.
-
eddie perches on the end of your bed, not daring to move any closer for fear of losing it and touching you like he dreamed of doing.
it had been four months, two weeks and five days since you’d jerked him off in that tiny bathroom.
not that he was counting.
and still nothing more had happened between you. a few instances where eddie had thought you were close but nothing of any real consequence.
nevertheless, a day hadn’t passed since where he hadn’t thought about it at least once.
he’s memorised every single frame of that video, all the times you pant and twist your hand. the exact second his phone falls onto the counter and the video changes to an image of the back of his head.
every. last. detail.
you jab your foot into his back, peering over your phone screen to frown at him, “what’s wrong with you?”
eddie sighs, letting his shoulders slump, still staring at the torn ac/dc poster he had ripped off the wall for you. it reminds him too much of times where things weren’t so complicated.
“i hooked up with someone the other day,” he states monotonously, uncaring anymore about telling you what had really happened.
“okay?” you jab him again, “why are you sad about that?” confusion echoing.
“i’m not sad.”
you sit up, the mattress shifting behind him, “then what the fuck’s your problem?” leaning forward to rest your chin on his shoulder, in that similar position you were in all those months ago.
sometimes he wishes you’d never touched him. that he had just settled with chrissy and you had never been an option. not that you really were now, still unobtainable, taunting and teasing him.
“i said your name,” he exhales in one big breath, “i said your name while i was having sex with her.”
his shoulders felt lighter now, despite you still resting on them. something about the relief of finally letting you know how he felt. embracing his stupidity.
“really?” your mouth falls open, “holy shit, that’s funny,” he can feel your hands creep up his back, sending shivers over his skin.
eddie shakes his head, at a loss for words. he could see how you’d find it funny, but he couldn’t see the humour in it himself. in fact, it was a marker for the absolute desperation he felt towards your new complex relationship. not only had you taken over all of his waking thoughts, but you’d somehow subliminally crept into his intoxicated mind thoo.
“what were you thinking about? when you said it,” you pry, head twisting around to look at him.
“you.”
“me?” you rasp, right into his ear. “what about me?” feeling your breath against his cheek, transporting him straight back to wayne’s cramped bathroom.
his eyes fall shut, like he’s in some humiliation ritual, getting off to the way you teased him so.
“that video.. that stupid video,” he whispers, tuned in to every twitch of your fingers on his back, your soft breaths in his ear.
“oh,” he can hear the smirk in your voice, unwilling to open his eyes to see it again, “is that it? just the video?”
he doesn’t understand why you’re asking so many questions. obviously enjoying the way he squirmed under your touch, antsy and reluctant to say anything.
“i was.. picturing you were her,” he squeezes out, blood rushing to not only his cheeks, but his cock too.
“aw,” you coo, hand sliding higher, “tell me how it felt,” voice thick with desire, fingers circling around his shaking shoulders.
“good..” his eyes squeeze together, feeling his jeans shift uncomfortably, “not as good as you did,” almost begging, pleading for it.
you hum, your other hand finding the top of his thigh, dangerously close to the tent in his jeans.
if you kept this up, he’d cum all over his fucking pants.
you squeeze the skin, a low grumble from yours lips, “what position were you in?”
oh god.
“w-why?” eddie chokes, seeing stars behind his eyelids.
“i just wanna know, eds.. so i can picture the scene.”
his head tilts back, allowing you the opportunity to creep into the crook of his neck, traces of your lips just barely touching the sensitive skin.
“please tell me,” you mumble, vibrating against his trachea, making his toes curl, grounding himself with the rough carpet.
“she was on top,” he spits, balling his fist around your blanket.
it didn’t feel real between his fingers, poorly substituting your body for the cotton.
“oh,” you shift, the bed frame creaking as you clamber into his lap, resting atop of his thighs. “like this?”
he doesn’t open his eyes. can’t, not without cumming his pants right there. but he can feel you, perched just below his crotch,
“what’d she do now? hmm?” dragging your nails down his chest, your fingers prod at his skin, forcing him to flop back against the mattress.
the space allows you to shuffle upwards, your cunt brushing against his aching cock, leaving him no choice but to turn into pure mush beneath you.
“fuck,” he breathes, daring a glance in hopes to keep the image ingrained in his mind forever.
your hips begin to grind against his crotch, groaning softly with your palms flat to his chest.
“you like that?” you purr, rocking back and forth on top for he rough denim of his jeans.
“i need you.. fuck, please,” he keens, fingertips so firmly pressed into your waist that they’d leave indentations for days.
you don’t respond, sighing softly as the friction between you grows stronger, cruel and twisted in the way you tease him.
he doesn’t understand what all of these almost-encounters mean. it’s like you want him but not fully. holding yourself back for the right moment or perhaps just trying to keep him going until somebody else came along.
his hands slide around to your ass, moving with every jerk and cant of your hips. gruff, frustrated sighs leave his mouth, mixing somewhere in the air with your whiny moans. need and urgency ricocheting around the walls of your room, yet neither one of you prepared to take it all the way.
“jesus eds, are you gonna cum?” you breathe, as much as this was for his benefit, you were getting off as well.
that alone makes this other worldly. even if he was doing absolutely none of the work, you were writhing and gasping just as he was.
it’s almost incomprehensible how much you using him to get off was frying his brain.
eddie was about to combust, the closeness of it all, so near and yet still so far apart. two layers of clothes felt like a million miles. finally brave enough to open his eyes, hoping to keep this image seared into his brain forever.
“yeah.. yeah i’m gonna cum,” he whines, jerking his hips up to meet yours, rocking against each other in perfect rhythm, “please.. oh fuck- fuckfuckfuck,” his cock positioned perfectly between your folds, covering your pajama shorts with your slick.
“good boy,” you breathe, fingers twisted into his shirt, tugging at the fabric, not letting up on your torturous grinding.
your tone is somewhere between mocking and sincere, but he doesn’t care. doesn’t have the brain capacity to if he’s honest.
his cock twitches against his boxers, hips shuddering into the air as an uncomfortable warmth overtakes his crotch.
“oh god.. shit,” the sudden realisation of the mess in his pants, how grotesquely down bad he was for you, hits all at once.
your lips curve, shuffling down to the top of his thighs. you don’t exchange words, just a sly glance that erupts into giggles. leaning down to peck his lips as your hands let go of their hold on his chest.
eddie’s hands don’t move, gripping onto your hips, hoping you’ll stay there for the rest of eternity. not only had he cum in his pants, he had done so at a disturbingly fast rate. a few minutes of what was essentially dry humping had left him sticky and full of shame.
“are you ever gonna let me fuck you?” he asks, practically begging for your mercy, needing to know for his own sake.
he likes to think that if you said no, he’d be able to walk away with his dignity, to never let this embarrassing display for pathetic yearning happen again.
yet deep down, he also knows that that’ll never happen. you could string him along forever and ever and he’d never do a thing about it other than cherish the moments you let him touch you.
your laugh topples over, slinging your leg over his waist to kneel beside his lifeless body, “one day,” kneeing him softly in the side, “go get changed, i’m hungry,” climbing off of the mattress, disappearing from his eyesight.
his head flops back onto the bed, sweaty and exhausted, ignoring the feel of his boxers clinging to his skin and the inevitable wet patch seeping through to his jeans.
an insatiable churning in his stomach for more, for you.
but eddie is eddie, so instead of doing any of the things that he really wanted to do, he rolls off of your bed with a sigh, shimmying out of his jeans just as you’d asked him to.
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obsesssedblerd · 2 months
Text
“Megumi!” You call your son in the living room, who’s sitting next to his father, Toji, on the couch watching the news. “Could you go grab your sister and tell her to put her studying on hold? Dinner’s almost done.” 
“Yeah, no problem,” Megumi says as he rises to his feet, putting his headphones around his neck and pulling his phone out of his hoodie pocket. “Oh, uh, Mom?” 
“Hm?” 
“Can Itadori spend the night after dinner?” He then looks over at Toji with a small scowl. “After Dad hides all of his assassin stuff?” 
“Hey, watch it,” Toji says.
You nod with a light smile. You loved having Yuuji Itadori over. He was a bright kid, and besides, he made Megumi relaxed and happy. “Of course. Go prepare the guest bed, yeah?” 
Megumi departs with a nod, then heads upstairs. From the living room, you hear Toji whistle. “Wow. Baby, looks like Spider-Man stopped that bank robbery.”
You look up from the dishes in the kitchen, then hum in delight when you catch what’s on the screen. It looked like small clips from the internet as the reporter gave details. The masked hero, wearing blue and red, swings, fights, and rescues hostages swiftly. “Incredible,” you say, then walk over to hand your husband a list of groceries. “Could you head to the store and grab these? I want to make sure that we have enough food for breakfast in the morning now that Yuuji will be staying the night.” 
Toji looks around to make sure that Megumi and Tsumiki aren’t present, then lowers his voice to a whisper. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about Yuuji.” 
“Megumi has feelings for him. Yeah, I know.” 
“No- Not that. Amazing for them, and I think they’re adorable together, but,” Toji points over at the TV. “I think he’s Spider-Man.”
You blink, then burst into laughter as you head back into the kitchen. “Toji, what? Don’t be ridiculous. He’s only fifteen and very busy. You know how often he studies with Megumi.” 
“I’m serious,” he says as he follows you. “Think about it. Do you know how often Yuuji shows up with bruises or scratches?” 
You begin arranging plates on the dining room table. “Just like our son, the kid’s a fighter. I mean, his uncle Sukuna was a huge fighter before he passed away. Plus, he spends a lot of time with Satoru Gojo, and we know how he is. Also, doesn’t he have an older brother? Brothers fight.” 
“True, but just walk with me for a second.” You sigh and look up to see Toji waving his hands animatedly as he explained. “Do you remember when we all went to the parade on New Years together, and that giant robot appeared?” 
“Yes, it was all everyone could talk about for days.” 
“Uh-huh.” He then points at you. “Do you also remember how Yuuji was gone when Spider-Man appeared at the scene?” 
You stare at him blankly. “...Toji, he went to the bathroom before everything happened,” you remind him. “I’m certain that he got lost in the crowd when everyone started running.”
Toji groans. “You don’t believe me. Baby, I’m telling you—He’s Spider-Man. I can’t prove it now, but I will eventually.” 
You sigh again and cross your arms. “Okay, so, let’s say he was. What would you do?” 
“Well, I mean…” Toji mutters, then sheepishly rubs the back of his head as he quietly chuckles. “I dunno, give him a high-five? Worry about Megumi?” 
“Trust me, Toji. The only people with secret identities here are you and I.” You reach over and grab a stack of napkins. “By the way, Megumi had a point earlier. Be more careful about where you’re leaving weapons. One of Tsumiki’s friends nearly saw one not too long ago.” 
He winces. “Sorry.” 
“You’re fine.” You push to your tip toes and gently kiss him. “No job tonight, right? I know I don’t have one.” 
“Nope. Once I get those groceries, I’m all free.” He grabs the list from you, then reaches towards you to lovingly push a loose strand of hair away from your face. “I’ll be back soon.” When he leaves through the back door, the front doorbell rings. 
You hear Megumi rush down the stairs. “I got it,” he tells you as he passes you. When the door opens, Yuuji Itadori waves at you with his usual grin. “Hi, Mrs. Fushiguro!”
“Hi, Yuuji. What happened to your face?” You ask. His lip is slightly busted, and there’s a bruise beginning to form on his jaw. Yuuji laughs sheepishly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his yellow hoodie. “Oh, uh, me and Okkotsu fought again. Gojo-sensei had to pull us apart.” 
Megumi rolls his eyes. “I swear, you’re always fighting.”
“Aw, come on, Megumi,” Yuuji teases with a smirk as he crosses his arms. “You’re just as bad. I heard about what happened a few days ago.”
Your son’s cheeks dust with pink, and he clears his throat. “Yeah, whatever. You need to get cleaned up before dinner. Come on, there’s a first-aid kit in the bathroom.” 
Megumi goes upstairs, and Yuuji follows close behind him. You’re about to tell Yuuji that the flap of his backpack is slightly unzipped, but the words get stuck in your throat when you catch the tiniest hint of the red and blue suit. You only see it for a split-second before Yuuji swings his backpack around, excitedly telling Megumi about a new action figure he wants to get for his birthday.
Your eyes widen. Holy shit. 
-----
a/n: lol i can't believe I wrote this. spidey yuuji au, you'll always be loved by me <3
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nvuy · 4 months
Note
h.how do we feel .
“Uh… sorry ‘bout the mess. I’ll make it up to ya.” For good measure, the space cowboy kicks one of the corpses to the side with his boot.
You clutch your chest tighter, heart racing. “You just killed fifteen IPC soldiers in my bar.”
“Yep.”
“You–”
He suddenly looks offended. “Hey. I did the world a favour. I don’t take kindly to rats puttin’ their fudgin’ filthy hands on the merchandise.” He gestures to his torso. Then, he whistles, placing his thumbs on the waistband of his pants. “But, nice place ya got. This your business?”
Dazed, you nod slowly. Your eyes flit to the broken sign and the smashed television hanging over the bar counter.
The bottles are smashed to bits. There’s liquor spilled all over the floor—expensive liquor. This would cost a fortune to fix, let alone to then replace all of the products.
You exhale shakily. You try not to look at the bodies.
The cowboy pities you. You can see it on his face. He says nothing. He awkwardly clears his throat and skims the rim of his hat with his fingers.
This sucks.
“How ‘bout this? I’ll give ya the bounty money so you can fix this place up.”
“Will you pay for my therapy sessions as well?” you chime in, murmuring beneath your breath.
He cracks a smile. “If that’s what you want.”
You lean over the counter and place your head in your hands. Tiredly, you ask, “how much?”
You hear the cowboy click his tongue in thought. “‘Bout… seventy-five? Give or take?”
You look at him from between your fingers. “Huh? Seventy-five hundred?”
The cowboy, yet again, looks offended. “Million, hun. I don’t do my job for cheap. What do I look like to you?”
You squawked. “Seventy-five million?”
“You heard me.” He cocks his head to the side, lips pressed into a thin line. “Why? You like that?”
“You can’t give me seventy-five million credits. Are you serious?” You could feel your face burning in shock. Your hands slam onto the counter, and you point an accusing finger in his face. “You must run some sort of shady business.”
The cowboy looks to the left for a moment.
He blinks at you like you’re stupid.
“You’re serious?” you repeat.
Instead of answering, he pulls out his phone from his pocket. You say nothing about the flimsy orange case, instead watching as he fumbles and squints at the screen before turning it towards you.
He shows you the recent deposit.
As he said. Seventy-five million fat credits sit right there in his account.
Hesitantly, you grab the phone to peer closer. Curiously, you start scrolling. These deposits clearly weren’t new to him. There were so many starting back from about ten years ago. There was a recent one of two-hundred thousand, then another just crossing fifty-seven million–
You were going to pass out. You hand his phone back to him with trembling fingers.
“Seventy-five sound good, or ya want some more?” He was tapping away on the screen again. “Gimme your bank details.”
“No!” You shake your head. “I don’t need your money. It’s fine.”
“How ‘bout eighty?”
“I–”
“Eighty-five.”
“No, I–”
“Round it up.” He turns the phone to you again, this time waiting for you to take it. An empty prompt of a receiver for the credits waits still. “One hundred.”
“Stop. I’m not taking your money.”
“I insist,” was all he said. “Got plenty to dispose of. And was never too responsible wit’ it anyway. Also, don’t really need to spend money on food and stuff, ‘cause, y’know–” He gestures to himself again. “I trashed your place. Lemme help ya fix it up.”
“I’m not taking your money,” you repeat.
The cowboy narrows his eyes at you.
To retaliate, you narrow them back.
Then, grumpily, he states, “you’re stubborn.”
“Yeah.” You bristle defensively. “And?”
“I like it,” he all but purrs. He leans over the counter, fingers drumming over the bench. “If ya don’t want my money, how’z about I take ya out for dinner? To say sorry?”
Huh? You lean back, cowering away from the sharp teeth he displays behind pulled lips. Your heart races in your chest, half out of the anxiety that riddles your veins, but also because he’s practically snapping his teeth in your face like a shark.
Your hands coil into weak fists.
“What do ya think, pretty?”
You look at him.
You suppose he’s handsome—you’re not sure if it’s appropriate to call a cyborg handsome. But he’s got lovely hair, and it falls over his shoulders like water. It covers half his face, but the eye you can see is… trustworthy, to an extent.
He’s definitely not the most insane man you’ve ever met, so that’s a bonus. He also just killed a bunch of soldiers in your territory. You didn’t like the IPC either, and maybe he did do you a favour, but still.
You sigh. You think the pleading flutter of his lashes won you over.
“Fine.”
“That’s the spirit.” He holds out his hand, palm facing upwards. “Phone.”
Your face twists suspiciously. “No funny business.” Hesitantly, you reach into your pocket and hand it to him.
He grins and takes it. “Not at all. I’m a super trustworthy guy.” You find it hard to believe him. Again, he seems to have trouble navigating your phone. He notices you staring. “Sorry. Can’t read very well.”
“Oh.” You straighten up slightly. “Do you want me to add your number instead?”
He makes a face at the phone.
“Nope. I got it.” He hands you back your phone after a moment. The contact is still open on the screen: Boothill. He’s somehow taken a photo of himself without you noticing. “Might’ve added an extra zero. Oops.”
“Oh.” You stare down at the phone number. “There's no zeroes in your number.”
“Sure.” Boothill pulls back from the counter with a tip of his hat. “I gotta run. I’ll set up our lil’ dinner date later.”
You turn your phone off. “Yeah. Thanks.”
“You got it, babe.” He blows you a kiss and waves his hand behind him.
As soon as the door shuts, you get a notification of a successful deposit into your bank account.
Your face immediately drains of blood as you frantically open up the app.
Seven-hundred and fifty million credits sit in your account.
The message attached to it reads, ‘Dont bot her snending it back. Wont work. LOL.’
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emmyrosee · 4 months
Note
Imagine having a kid with Sukuna and him urging you to have a day out after giving birth and taking care of the baby so you can have a fun stress free day with friends, and then him having a daddy daughter date. I thought it’s cute 🥰
oh… oh you KNOW HOW I FEEEEEEEEL ABOUT A DAD!AU (bro this got so long im sO SORRY-)
———
“Okay, there’s three bottles of milk in the fridge.”
“Okay.”
“And her melts are in the cabinet!”
“I know, I live here too.”
“Oh! And her stuffed lamb is her favorite to nap with-“
“Babe,” Sukuna laughs, wrapping an arm around you. In his other arm, Akiara is held securely, with an arm under her thighs to keep her perched against his chest, the pacifier in her mouth bouncing as she rattles a small toy in her hands. “I got this. It’ll be fine.”
“Okay, but if you need me, call me.”
“I’m not going to call you. Go have fun,” he encourages. Deep down, he knows you’re terrified to leave the baby with anyone for more than 15 minutes, always keeping her in close proximity and within earshot. The farthest you’ve gone is to shower while Sukuna indulges with tummy time, and it seems that every time, you’re surprised the house hasn’t crumbled in the brief period.
But Akiara is five months now. And your friends begged you to come shopping with them, missing you from outings with the group. Sukuna knows you trust him implicitly, but your separation anxiety is physically felt in the air this point. He pulls you in for a hug and presses a kiss to the crown of your head, “go. If the house catches on fire, I’ll call you. Otherwise, I can handle a few hours with my own spawn.” You tense slightly, and he offers you a stern look, “do you trust me?”
“Of course I do, but-“
“Then let me take care of everything. Go.”
You offer him a shaky sigh and make your way over to Akiara in his arms, “mommy loves you so much, okay?” You whisper. She babbles and grabs your hair, and Sukuna can see the nervous tears welling up. “I’ll be home in two hours tops.”
“Don’t time yourself,” he chuckles. “Go with your girlfriends. I gave you the credit card, go buy some clothes, or a necklace, or those expensive ass pastries you love so much.” Then, he nods his head towards the door, “scram. Before you cry your mascara off.”
“Okay,” you sigh. “Okay-“ you blow them both a few kisses as you slowly make your way to the door, “I love you both so much. Behave. Oh, and nap time is at 1:30-“
“Babe. Go,” he snickers. He watches as you open the door and walk backwards out, your eyes focused on the two of them until the door shuts fully, keeping you outside and them on the inside. Sukuna sighs in relief and he adjusts Akiara to be held arms length, “you, stinky girl, need a bath,” he hums, and when the little girl coos, he brings her tiny body up to his mouth to playfully bite her chubby belly, hiccupy laughter filling the air briefly before he pulls a face of disgust and holds her back out. “Yeah. You stink. Like a lot.”
Sukuna wastes no time in setting up her bathtub and cleansing the tiny child with her soaps, letting her splash the warm water for some time until she reaches up for him. He barely gets her out of the tub and into a towel before his phone buzzes wildly. He sighs and answers it, “do I have to block your number?”
“No!” You whine. “I just wanted to see how things were going. I just got to the restaurant, wanted to make sure everything was okay before I ate.”
“Well the dog got out, I broke a vase and our kid went to college, so not great,” he says flatly, and when you huff in annoyance, and smirks, “everything is fine. She just had a bath, I’m trying to dry her off, and then we’re going to watch some of those dancing fruits she likes so much. Goodbye.”
“Wait- you bathed her before you fed her?” You ask.
He pulls his mouth into a straight line, “yes. Because she smelt like shit fart-“
“Sukuna!” You snap.
“If I have to bathe her again, I will. It’s not the end of the world,” he tries to soothe. When you click your tongue he chuckles again. “Okay. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye,” you say, ending the phone call. He pockets the device and looks down at his child. “Shes your mother alright,” he says. His daughter merely babbles and chews on her fingers. He gets her settled into a clean diaper before hoisting her back and onto his hip, making his way to the living room, resting her on his massive stomach and clicking on the TV for some entertainment. There’s a baseball game on, surely you won’t mind if he indulges while his baby lays on his chest.
The colors are good stimulation.
“Who you got money on?” He asks Akiara, who blinks eyes like yours up at him. When she smiles a gummy smile, he shrugs, “I don’t know. They’ve got a really good pitcher.” His thick fingers gently stroke up and down her spine, so gently and warm that he feels Akiara’s breathing slowly even out, his little girl falling asleep on his chest. He winces, he knows you’re not going to be thrilled about an early nap time, but who the hell is he to wake a sleeping baby?
A sleeping baby who sleeps for hours. You’re going to be pissed at him.
By the time the game is over, Akiara is still fast asleep on his chest, tiny hands balled into fists as her long lashes lay on her cheeks. Sukuna’s gotta give you credit, you haven’t called or texted since her bath, and now it’s well into four hours since you’ve left and you’re still out with your friends. He’s proud of you.
He’s not sure how long in total Akiara was sleeping for, but not long after the game, she slowly twitches awake, eyes fluttering open before fixating on him. He watches fondly as her body slowly wakes up, starting with her sleepy eyes that blink open, followed by her mouth which opens to let out the smallest yawn.
“Good morning, sleepy girl,” he hums, gently cradling the back of her head. “Was that a good nap?” Akiara merely thunks her head back against his chest in response. He kisses her head softly before standing up, shuffling to the kitchen to grab one of the prepared bottles from the fridge. He pops it in her mouth, where her tiny fists assist him in holding it. The child drinks the milk happily, wide eyes blinking as she downs the beverage hungrily. He smirks, “definitely my kid.”
With that, you come home.
He can tell by the jingling of keys you’re trying to hurry in as fast as possible, and he snickers at your struggle. Once the door finally creaks open, you haul your bags into the home and kick the door shut, smiling as your eyes land on your little family. “Hey you.”
“What’s up?” He hums, kissing you as you get close. “How was it?”
“It was great!” You squeal, and he can’t fight the way his heart squeezes at your excitement. “I got some new dresses, a pair of heels, some perfumes- oh, and I got you a cologne-“
“That’s my girl,” he says, but he can tell your attention is focused on the small girl he’s currently burping, and he shrugs, “you want to take over?”
When you nod sheepishly, he gently passes Akiara over to you, and you coo down at her, “hi, Mumma’s girl,” you coo, and she burps loudly in your face. “Well excuse you!”
Sukuna can’t fight the laughter that barks from his throat, snickers tearing through until you’re smiling and shaking your head, and he pulls you in for another hug.
He loves that his small family fits in his arms.
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luveline · 4 months
Note
hii hope youre doing well! could i request coworker!james where r comes in to work sick and he gets worried?
fem!reader, 1.3k
It’s getting old, the whole charade. James didn’t like you and now he does. You used to piss him off, now you don’t. Somehow, someway, he’s seen parts of you he couldn’t help but love, in your voice, how you talk; in your hands, your touch; in your emails worst of all. Who ever thought that James could fall in love on Outlook? 
Dearest desk mate,
Where are you? It’s 9.45 and you aren’t here. You realise work starts at 8.30? Besides my worry, I need the invoice for Lang and Co. and Remus doesn’t have them either.
You’re my only hope, 
James
You email back a stringy fifteen minutes later. 
James, 
I’ll be there soon. I can’t attach the file from my phone but I will send it to you the second second I get there, I know you asked meyesterday. I’m sorry for holding you up .
James reads your email with a frown. Your typos are unlike you. He wonders if perhaps you’re texting and driving, which is abhorrent, but you walk into the office a minute later, so you must’ve been responding to him as you walked. 
You duck straight into the manager’s office. James can hear you say sorry before the door is fully closed, craning his neck for a good look at you. 
Remus laughs shamelessly. “Worried about her?” 
“About who?” he asks, even as his chair creaks and threatens to snap under his weight, leaning back to see you through the frosted glass. 
“She’s not going anywhere now she’s here, James. Nobody stops by for social visits.” 
James relents when he realises you may be in there for a little while. The rain today is aggressive against the window, condensation dripping down the windows to pool atop the radiators. You hate it; you love the radiators when they’re working in the winter, but sad summer days with rubbish weather bog you down. Either way, the condensation wets your elbows or gathers on your desk —it’s not nice. James grabs a wad of tissues from the box on his desk and begins his quick mission. 
“Oh, my god. Jamie, you can’t be serious.” 
“I'm avoiding electrocution.” 
“You’re cleaning up for her,” Remus says, putting his face in his hand to watch him with a softer smile, “it’s nice of you, really, but you can’t expect me to pretend I believe you when you say you don’t like her for much longer if you’re going to do stuff like this.” 
“Now say that five times fast.” 
His heart drops when you clear your throat, caught, sodden tissue in hand. You don’t eyeball him, there’s no scorn, you clear your throat again and all but collapse into your seat. 
“Hey,” James says. 
You tip your head back. “Hi, James.” Your eyes are bloodshot, and, to James’ surprise, you aren’t wearing a lick of makeup. You look very pretty but very tired, too. 
“You okay?” 
Remus bends around the desktop. “Yeah, are you okay? 
“I’m fine,” you drop your head back with some vertigo, and press your hands to your eyes. “I’m not very well, is all.” 
“What’s wrong?” Remus asks. 
“Just poorly. Um, I have a bad headache, and my ears are ringing, but it’s not unmanageable. I’m full of sudafed.” 
“Can’t you go home? We can manage without you until you’re better,” Remus says.
“I had all that time off a few weeks ago,” you say. You’d been ill not so long ago. 
“You can have some of my sick days,” James says immediately. 
You rub your eyes hard enough to make James’ ache in sympathy. “Doesn’t work like that.” 
“You really shouldn’t be here if you’re sick,” James says. 
“I won’t get you sick, I promise. I brought hand sanitizer, I’m not sneezing or coughing, I’m just aching.” Your movements are lethargic as you lean back in your chair, the slow roll of your shoulders and the limp cross of your arms over your stomach hard to ignore. 
James rounds the desk to chuck his tissues in the little bin beneath it. “I don’t think either of us are worried about you getting us sick, lovely.” 
Your face crumples quickly and neatens up again just as fast. “My head just hurts,” you say, rubbing your forehead. You manage to summon a wobbly smile despite your pinched brows. “I’m fine, don’t worry.” 
If it were Sirius, James would thrust a bottle of water and a pack of ibuprofen at him and tell him to chill out. It it were Remus, the expression would turn his heart, and he’d give his friend a good pat on the back. You aren’t Sirius nor Remus, you’re not so close to him that James knows what to do, but what use is he if he doesn’t try?
“Can I make you a cup of tea?” James asks. 
“That’s cruel,” Remus says, “your tea is like milky disappointment.” He stands with a smile James hates, some playful conniving mixture with good intentions deep, deep down. “I’ll make it. James, why don’t you turn the radiator?” 
“Is that okay?” James asks. 
“What?” 
“Do you think that’ll make you feel better, the radiator?” James asks. 
“I can do it.”
“No, it’s okay, it hurts your hand. I’ll turn it up.” He weaves back in between your chair and the radiator. Your desk is close enough to be faced with your thighs, but James doesn’t get half as distracted by them as he does your twitchy face. 
“You sure you’re okay?” he asks. 
“You and Remus worry too much.” You give him the side eye. “Why do you care?” 
“I think we’re a little bit past pretending we don’t like each other, aren’t we?” 
He turns the radiator on with less struggle than he’s anticipating and holds his hand to the bottom until he feels the metal warming. “Tell me if that gets too hot for you,” he says, standing. 
“Thank you.” 
“It’s no problem.” 
“No, really,” you say, rubbing the bridge of your nose, “thanks for worrying about me. I’ll feel better in an hour.” 
“Did you eat breakfast?” He brings his hand up to wipe a stray fibre from your cheek, “Why were you late?” 
“I…” Your eyes follow his hand as he lowers it. Emboldened, James raises it again, wiping at a phantom fibre. “What is it?” 
“Little hair on your cheek.” 
“I slept late, and I felt strange in the car so I parked for a bit, and… I don’t know. I should’ve stayed home, but you know what he’s like about sick days.” 
“You feel alright now, other than the headache?” 
“Just heavy.” 
James spots Remus coming back and steps away. “You’ll be alright, okay? Don’t worry too much. Do some of the top spreadsheets and we can manage the rest.” 
“You don’t have to do that for me.” 
James does, really. Remus gives you your mug of tea and one of the plastic wrapped muffins from the kitchen, both boys keeping watch over you like a vigil. If you were well enough to notice you’d complain, but you spend the next few hours sipping at your tea as it turns cold, and nibbling at little bits of muffin, clearly tired. 
You email James the Lang and Co. invoices four hours after he’s asked for them with a sorry and a frowny face emoticon. James wants to kiss you on the forehead, feels it so strongly it becomes a different kind of wanting, to look after you and for you to want him to do that. He’s in way too deep. There’s not much he can do. 
“You want some more tea?” he asks, leaning over to grab your discarded mug.
“Yeah, please, Jamie.” 
James’ fingers wobble around the mug. 
Remus glances up from his phone. 
“Of course,” James says, smiling, “coming right up.” 
Jamie, he thinks. Friends call him Jamie. He can be your friend, he’d love to be your friend, but Jamie. Even sick, you say it sweetly. He trips over himself trying to get what you asked. 
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eddiethebrave · 1 month
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secret admirer part four
1,321 words
one two three
Eddie the hobbit, huh? i haven’t read that one (which isn’t saying much cause i've only read books from class) it’s probably good i’d love to hear you talk about it i’d love to hear you talk about anything, though, so maybe i’m biased p.s. i know it makes me sound like an inconsiderate asshole and maybe i am but i’m only now realizing that i don't know if you want me to stop with these i’m sorry if you do promise i’ll figure out a way to ask -H
Eddie finding a way to reply to him about the book gives Steve peace of mind that he doesn’t want him to stop with the notes, but he still feels sort of weird about it. His thoughts go round and round all day and by the time the dismissal bell rings, he has a bit of a headache. 
After checking that he has enough cash on him, Steve goes out to the picnic table behind the school where Mark Jones sells pot most days. 
He makes his way into the clearing only to see someone who is certainly not Mark Jones perched on top of the table. 
Steve stops dead in his tracks.
Eddie grins sharply and holds his arms out wide. “What have I done to be blessed with his highness’ presence?”
Steve wants to talk to him. Wants to tell him to just call him Steve, wants to ask about his book, but all that comes out of his mouth is, “What are you doing here?”
Eddie’s arms drop to his sides and he raises his eyebrows in question.
“Where’s Jones?” Steve clarifies, taking slow steps forward.
“Ah, I see. You’re here for my wares.” Eddie abruptly jumps from his seat and stretches with a groan that has Steve’s cheeks heating up. Eddie meanders over to the other side of the table before looking back at Steve and tilting his head in amusement. “Unfortunately, Mark has been let go. He had a nasty pilfering habit.” 
Whatever the fuck that means.
Steve can’t help the small smile that grows on his face, but he lifts his hand up to wipe it off inconspicuously. He’s never talked to Eddie before. 
Eddie drops onto the bench and gestures for Steve to sit across from him. As he does, Eddie opens his lunchbox and begins to rifle through it. Steve lets his eyes trail to Eddie’s hands while his focus is elsewhere. This close, Steve can finally see what shape the chunky silver ring is. A skull with fangs. Of course, it’s a skull. He should’ve known. 
Steve thinks about complimenting it but decides it would only make Eddie suspicious and he doesn’t wanna be found out (yet, he thinks then immediately backtracks. He can’t let anyone know that he’s writing love notes to a boy. Especially not the boy himself. Who knows how Eddie would react. Even though Steve hasn’t been trying to come off as a girl through the notes, and even though no one could possibly mistake his chicken scratch penmanship for that of a girl’s, still. No one can know).
“So.” Eddie claps his hands and Steve’s eyes snap to his face. “What’ll it be, my liege?”
Steve clears his throat. “Uh, I usually just go for a couple of pre-rolls.”
“Mhm, great choice. Prepared these myself.” Eddie swipes a baggie with two in it and holds it out. When Steve goes to grab it, though, Eddie pulls it out of his reach. “Ah ah ah, Harrington, no freebies.”
Steve rolls his eyes and huffs a laugh. “Yeah, alright, man.” He pulls his wallet out and hands him what he usually pays.
Eddie takes the money and counts it leisurely. “You’re five bucks short.”
Steve stares at him deadpan. 
“Birthday fee,” Eddie offers in explanation, shrugging like 'what can you do?’ “Can’t a guy make some extra change for his special day?” Eddie bats his eyelashes.
This boy is trying to kill him. Steve looks heavenward for strength. He counts down from five in his head and only then does he risk looking back at Eddie. “It’s your birthday?”
Eddie grins. “Yup,” he says, popping the p, “Tomorrow. The big one eight.”
Steve stands and tosses a ten onto the table. Eddie passes him the baggie and starts shuffling through his lunchbox. He pulls out a five and holds it out.
Steve waves him off and Eddie peers up at him suspiciously before shrugging and returning the bill to his stash. Steve turns on his heel and begins his journey back to the parking lot. “Happy birthday to me, I guess,” Eddie mutters and Steve smiles to himself. He shoves his hands in his pockets and pivots to walk backwards. 
“Happy birthday, Munson,” he calls and Eddie’s head snaps up.
Steve grins before turning back around and breaking into a jog. 
It’s not often that Steve finds himself in the thrift store. Not ever, actually, but with all that Eddie complains about capitalism and The Man (who the fuck is the man) and whatnot, he supposes this is his best bet. 
Steve wanders around, not even really knowing what he’s looking for. He’s idly skimming over the women’s jewelry section when he finds it. A silver ring with a blackish blueish stone in the center. It’s not that far off from the one Eddie already has, is it?
Steve tries it on and it’s a bit snug. He’ll admit that he spent far too much time earlier looking at Eddie’s hands and he thinks they were about the same size as his own, if not a bit thinner. 
It’s perfect. 
…He hopes it’s perfect. 
Eddie heard through the grapevine today’s someone’s b-day i left a gift for you under the dealer’s table p.s. it didn’t fit in the locker p.s.s sorry if this is weird but you’ll understand once you see it -H
He jogs to plant the present in its place. He’d rolled the second note up and slipped the ring onto it. It kinda looks like a scroll.
happy birthday eddie i don’t know if you want me to keep writing or if you think it’s weird or what if you want me to stop just don’t wear the ring and i’ll back off i hope you have a good day and that you like the ring <3 p.s. you’re older than me now
Steve is so anxious that he feels nauseous by the time he makes his way back to practice and it must show because coach tells him to take the bench. Tommy shoots him a worried glance but Steve just waves him off.  
By lunchtime, Steve doesn’t think he can look. He doesn’t know why it feels like this. Like Eddie not wearing the ring would be the end of the world. 
He manages to avoid looking for the first ten minutes and is seriously worried that he won’t have the guts to do it. Just as he’s resigned himself to his fate, Tommy groans from where he’s sitting in Steve’s usual seat (he hadn’t questioned the change) and then he cups his hands around his mouth and shouts.
“Get down, freak!”
Steve only just manages to not flinch. Slowly, he turns in his seat. Eddie pays no mind to Tommy other than flipping him off without even looking in his direction or pausing in his speech.
Eddie is currently using a lunch table as a stage as his friends grin up at him, egging him on. He’s passionate about whatever it is he’s talking about. Steve can tell from the way he begins gesturing wildly as he speaks. 
Steve can't tear his eyes away. He feels like he's finally been given permission to look since half of the cafeteria has their attention on him. 
It’s then that Steve glimpses the ring on Eddie's right hand. His ring.
five
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sorry if i missed anyone!!
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verstappen-cult · 5 months
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GWEN’S RADIO MESSAGE. I saw the notification and ran to Instagram only to find these photos. And when I tell you that I couldn’t stop looking at them for at least five minutes. . . so, you know I had to write a silly little drabble.
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You come home after your early pilates class to find Charles snuggling with a puppy on the carpet in the living room, cushions perfectly scattered around to simulate a comfortable bed. When Charles sees you standing there with a puzzled look on your face, he just pouts, hugging the little dog tightly against his chest, and looks at you from beneath his eyelashes.
“What is that?” You ask, eyebrows raised. You know what is is, you simply don’t know what is a dog doing in your apartment when you don’t have any pets.
Charles cheeks are colored a light pink when he says, “Remember that time you said how much you wanted a puppy?”
“That was ages ago!”
“But look at him!” Charles grabs the puppy with both hands and shows him to you just like that scene in The Lion King with Simba being presented to all the animals in the kingdom. “Look at those eyes! We can’t send him back to the shelter.”
The dog isn’t even looking at you, too busy licking your boyfriend’s hand.
But Charles is right.
You can’t send him back to the shelter when you can give him a better life. And is not like you are actually mad that he decided to adopt a dog without your consent, it’s more about the surprise to see him lying on the carpet in his $2,000 white designer sweater with a dog, when in the past he’s gotten angry when you haven’t hung it up how it is supposed to hung.
You drop your bag and take off your shoes to join him on the floor. The little guy jumps from his hand and walks over to you, sniffing your hands and giving you side eyes until he feels safe enough to climb in your lap and let you hold him.
“Aren’t you cute,” You say, giving his little head a kiss. “I guess we need to give him a name, no?”
“About that,” Charles plays with a dog toy to avoid looking at you. “I already named him.”
You huff, “Of course you did.” You can’t be mad, not when Charles looks so shy and happy with the cute puppy walking around and exploring his new home. “What is his name?”
“Leo Leclerc.” He says it so proud, the corners of his mouth curling up that you can’t help but smile too.
“It suits him.” You agree, leaning closer to Charles. He immediately opens his arms for you and you rest your head on his chest, looking at Leo trying to climb on the sofa. “You’re a dog dad now, Charlie.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t asked you before adopting him,” He turns his head to get a better look at you. “and I’m sorry I used you wanting a puppy as an excuse when in reality I feel in love with him the second I saw him through the window.” Leo walks back to you and finds comfort between Charles legs. “I don’t want him to be just mine. I want him to be ours.”
You sit up, eyes looking between Charles and, what is now, your puppy. Your boyfriend looks expectantly, waiting for an answer that comes in the form of a squeak and a kiss.
“I can’t believe you went to get groceries and ended up adopting a dog.”
“About that,” Charles scratches the back of his neck nervously and you know what he’s about to say. “I saw him and forgot about everything else! But I can go to the grocery store this afternoon. He needs more toys, after all.”
“Oh, he’s gonna be so spoiled!”
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