#''I found the stars but I lost my mind''

[sage-nebula]

To be honest I kind of just want to write a fic set after Frontiers where Tails ends up in Possum Springs and befriends that crew. Not for any plot reasons, there's no plot really, but just so he can hang around with a bunch of people who have problems and negative feelings and think it's A-OK to feel and express those negative feelings. They treat him like the kid he is because they're in their twenties, and he explodes with everything he's been through in a way to prove that he's not just a kid, and Mae responds with the NitW-certified understated, "Jeez." They take him to smash lightbulbs behind the Snack Falcon. They let him sit in at band practice. He helps Bea out at the Ol' Pickaxe so she can finally fire the creep that assaulted her. (She at first tells him that's probably a violation of child labor laws. He goes, "what are those." She says "fuck it" and hires him.) He and Lori get to gleefully shout, "everything sucks forever!!" while laying on the train tracks because sometimes you've just got to embrace the fact that, yeah, things suck! And maybe they always will! And maybe that's okay! Maybe it's okay to not be okay!!

There's no plot. This follows the events of NitW too, so there's no danger from the cult. Tails is aged up a little maybe, perhaps 12 so that he and Lori can be closer in age (since she's 14), because I want them to be besties and later pen pals. (She gets him a friendship necklace that's two halves of a star. Together they spell "BFF." She gives him the B, because he has a big brain, and keeps the second F because she wants people to think it means "fuck."

Tails: "So . . . Brains Forever Fuck?" Lori: "Exactly" :3)

I just think it would be fun and maybe what he needs. Everything's dying in Possum Springs and everything sucks, Mae is severely mentally ill, Bea is cut off from her dreams, Gregg and Angus have no way of knowing if they'll ever manage to get out, Lori was probably going to be the next target of the cult. But hey, they're still alive. They can still smash lightbulbs and build crazy robots and tightrope walk on the power lines and have knife fights (ok that's just Mae and Gregg) and play grunge rock as loud as they can during band practice. Angus can tell Tails about a universe that doesn't care, and people who do. Gregg can commiserate on what it feels like to feel worthless, and Bea likewise on how it feels to be overwhelmed but knowing you have no choice but to keep going anyway. And Mae can save him the trouble of paying for a shit therapist by telling him, look, the only therapist around will tell you to just journal your thoughts and feelings. So do that. Maybe it helps. She doesn't know. But she does it, so hey, might be worth a shot.

I don't know, I just like thinking about it. Don't know if I'll ever write it, but the idea of Tails and Lori M being pen pals regardless is one I like a lot (as well as Tails taking a burned CD of the band's EP with him when he leaves, and actually picking up on that journaling thing big sis Maeday told him about . . .)

[amaraudermind]

YOU'RE SOOOOO RIGHT ABOUT EZRA YOU'RE SO RIGHT IT'S LIKE YOU LOOKED INTO MY HEAD AND WROTE EVERYTHING DOWN

he's so in tune with the force I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS

NO YOU'RE RIGHT HE IS

And it's like. Being in tune with the force is one thing, right? Lots of Jedi are, lots of force users in general are, even!

But like. Okay so Hera mentioned in the pilot that Ezra opening the Holocron being a level of test, right? And it sounded like she and Kanan had discussed before something about him opening the Holocron meaning Kanan would train him.

But that's such a horrible test! In clone wars they specified that you could only open a Jedi Holocron as a Jedi. You had to be so dialed in specifically on the light side of the force.

So walk with me here. Ezra Bridger. He not only has a strong connection to the force. He not only instinctively calls on it without knowing a thing about it. He effortlessly tunes into the light side of the force, like it's as natural as breathing.

"but Void" I hear from the crowd "Ezra also tunes into the dark side of the force"

Indeed. Yes. Correct.

No but just stick with my crazed rambling for a sec okay? Because the dark side is supposed to be the easy path, the one that's so simple to fall into, it calls to force users, I mean, we see that the dark side is exactly that time and again.

I bring this up because. It's not for Ezra. The first time he grasps for the dark side he's in a panic, and it hurts him. It does get them away from the grand inquisitor but it almost doesn't. And the next time? It's after encouragement from Maul, and even then he's having to actively pursue it. He has to try to use the dark side.

And, because I think of this oh so much, when Maul needs him to open the Jedi Holocron--after he's been using the dark side and frequently, mind you--Ezra still can.

And like I have so many more incoherent thoughts about him and his force connection there's just so much he has taken up my entire brain<3

[astrocassette]

i don't really give a shit abt stranger thangs (esp cause i didn't super like where season 4 went) and i also never really participated in the fandom, but anyways

st*ddie has over 10k more fics on ao3 than harr*ngrove and i am going to be smug about that for years. simpsons "ha-ha" soundbyte

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

“Fuck, you’re so wet. This all for me, love?”

You felt your thighs squeeze around your lieutenants large hand at his filthy words, a soft mewl escaping your lips as your mind was too hazy to formulate a response.

“Nothing to say? You had plenty to say earlier when you were running that filthy little mouth of yours.” Simon’s tone was teasing, borderline mean. “Wanted me so damn bad, here I am sweetheart.”

You let out a strangled gasp as he curled his thick fingers, grazing the spongy spot inside of you that had you seeing stars. “P-please.”

“Please? Please what. Use your words.” Simons fingers didn’t relent now that he knew he found your spot. He was nothing if not relentless.

“Please, I need to cum, sir.” You squealed, your eyes fluttering shut, your mind running completely blank.

At that, Simon ripped his fingers from your aching hole, his eyes not leaving yours as he proceeded to suck his digits clean. Before you could even comprehend how impossibly hot the action was, he had you spun around, practically slamming your back against the door of the supply closet you were currently hiding away in.

“You gonna be a good fuckin’ girl for me, Y/N?” He cooed in your ear, his hands roughly ripping your pants down to pool around your ankles. “Gonna be a good girl for you lieutenant?”

You gave a weak nod in reply, not daring to trust your voice. It seemed to be enough for him, as he was quick to unfasten his belt, his own pants pooling around his ankles as he lifted you with ease, prompting your legs to wrap securely around his bulky waist.

“Your pretty little thighs are shaking, love.” He was shamelessly teasing you now, but you’d lost any sense of shame at this point. “Does my cock still make you nervous, even after I’ve fucked you in this closet more times than either of us could count?”

You let out a muffled cry, biting into Simon’s shoulder as he slammed himself inside you without warning, his thick cock a welcome intrusion within your walls. The stretch was delicious, your warm walls welcoming his thick length with ease. You’d never get sick of this, of the way he felt inside of you.

His pace was brutal, never pausing once to let you adjust. He never did, he knew you could take him. You always did.

Your whines seemed to encourage him as he pressed into you harder, your back sure to be bruised from the force of being shoved against the door, but neither of you cared.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you for any one else, sweetheart.” He growled into your ear, his hot breath fanning against your earlobe. “Gonna ruin my pretty girl.”

And Simon Riley is a man of his word.

[nightingale-prompts]

Danny adopts himself

It's a common joke in Gotham that Bruce Wayne will adopt any black-haired and blue-eyed traumatized boy he finds. So much so that even he leans into it. But he was completely shocked when Damian confronts him about having a new brother that he did not want.

Bruce could barely get a word in when the rest of the family arrived upset that they weren't told about getting another sibling after Damian texted the family group chat (for once).

Damian had encountered a boy around Drake's age moving stuff into what was an empty room. The room was now furnished top to bottom with glowing green lights, tapestries of stars, random artifacts, several telescopes, and model rockets.

He knew the moment he saw the black hair and blue eyes that his father had taken in another ward.

Apparently Bruce was the last the know about his new "son" who was currently rearranging furniture and asking to helf Alfred with dinner.

Said dinner was an uncomfortable as Bruce was grilled by his kids on his addiction to adoption. Simultaneously they tried to get to know the new addition to the family.

It was easy to see that Damian didn't like Danny but it was equally easy to see that Danny could cow the boy like a border collie on a lamb. When Damian thew a dagger the teen caught it with one hand as it passed his face and then slid it across the table back to Damian.

"Try again. " Danny said "And this time don't aim to miss on purpose. If you want me dead you need to do better."

Damian put the knife away and huffed.

Tim and Danny hit it off almost instantly. The way they were able to bounce their thoughts back and forth made Tim believe that he found an equal.

Danny was able to understand Cassie immediately with just look in eachothers eyes like he was reading her mind but not in a creepy way.

Jason of course noticed the strange energy in the air around the kid. It was soothing. Like lavender wafting in the air. Well lavender for everyone else for him it was like opium. His eyes felt heavy like he had eaten a handful of poppy seeds. At the same time he felt full, like he had eating a full meal after starving for a week.

Whatever it is Damian was feeling it too. The demon looked even more his age as he rubbed his eyes and yawned. The crease in his brow gone.

Duke on the other hand was more on edge as his eyes flickered towards Danny before looking away. He had something he wanted to ask about the glowing boy but since no one can see it or just isn't saying anything he will keep quiet for now.

Next was Barbara who teased the new kid.

"So how do you like your new family? Ready to be the new robin?" She asked.

"Im robin." Damian mumbled groggily.

The others were waiting for Damian to finally fall asleep and glared at one another in a challenge to be the one to pick up Damian and put him to bed. Dick was winning.

Speaking of Dick, as expected he was off the wall excited to learn more about his new little brother. He wanted the full story as to why Bruce took him in. He could almost certainly guess it was because of a tragic situation and Dick was already ready to handle it as the greatest big brother ever and he wasn't sharing the title no matter what Barbara said. Even if she was Stephanie's favorite.

Bruce cleared his throat and the table went silent. "So, Danny. Where exactly did you come from? Why are you here? And how did you know who I am?"

Everyone went white. Did they all just risk their identities believing that Danny was a new Robin? Why didn't Bruce say something? Not even a signal for the protocol they would use.

Danny frowned looking a bit hurt.

"What do you mean, Bruce? You said you owed me. You said you'd give me anything I wanted if saved your son. I even helped you get back home when you got lost in time." Danny huffed feeling betrayed.

The table went silent.

Bruce made a few calculations in his brain before something must have come to mind. "I lost my memory for a bit so I need a bit of proof."

Danny placed a batarang on the table. The batarang had an engraving on it in a code that only Bruce knew.

"You told me to show this to Alfred when I came. We had a deal, Bruce. You promised me whatever I wanted." Danny huffed clearly insulted.

Just like Danny had said the code was the one Bruce had made. However this code wasn't a promise to grant a favor but to welcome someone new to the family. Past Bruce must have had plans to take the boy in but told Danny something else to lure him here.

Bruce recognized that everyone was right and he has a problem now that he's looking at it like this.

[gghostwriter]

You’re the Risk, I’ll Take it

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader

Summary: The three times Spencer followed advice and the one time he didn't (or as I'd like to better explain it, the three times Spencer fails to flirt and the one time it worked)

Warning: fluff! Just fluff!

A/n: I wanted to write something cute this time with Season 1 Spencer in mind--one of the best eras if you ask me. Hopefully I did him justice in this. The idea of this cute baby boy trying to flirt is too precious honestly. Also, if a guy did the last act for me, I'd fold like a lawn chair, yep. Risk by Gracie Abrams was on repeat while I was writing this and no proof reading was done. Let me know what you think!

Main masterlist

The first move Spencer tried was advised by Derek Morgan, the renowned ladies man

“Kid, admit it. You like her,” Morgan pestered him with a slight smile on his face. 

Spencer scoffed, trying to throw him off from the truth but monumentally failing. “S-she’s my closest friend. We joined the team at the same time, of course I feel most comfortable with her,” he noted his companion’s eyebrows raising higher and higher with each word. “Plus, she likes hearing what I say even if it has no relation to the case. She asks me questions and genuinely remembers.”

Now it was Morgan’s turn to scoff. “You could be talking about Star Trek and it’s physics mistakes and she’ll still hang on to every word you say.” 

“Actually, there aren’t that many scientific errors in Star Trek. Especially considering—”

“Reid.” 

“Right,” he nodded once, trying to push away the urge to continue further. “That still doesn’t mean I like her.” 

Morgan tapped the wheel twice before turning to face his partner. “Then answer me this. How do you feel when she walks through the office doors?” 

“Happy, I get the same feeling when I see you or Elle come in too,” he found his fingers very interesting then. Like they held the key to unlocking the mysteries of Dark Matter and the answer to the controversial scientific theory ‘Do parallel universe exist?’. He wasn’t telling the whole truth—didn’t want to because how could he, a man of science, explain the other bodily reactions he has when you walk in a room. How he hears his heart stutter in his chest with just a glimpse of you—the first time it happened, he thought nothing of it, but by the third, he considered making an appointment with a specialist for possible heart arrhythmia. How he sees the room brighten when you smile in his direction—perhaps light sensitivity, and how he feels his body heat up when you utter the words ‘Good morning, Spence.’—possibly hot flashes. Self diagnosis that he ruled out once he found you to be the common denominator. That left him with a riddle, a personal conundrum he lost countless of sleep over trying to solve.

“That’s a lie, Reid. You can’t be that happy to see me. You never blush like a tomato when I enter the room. For Greenaway, I could see it but for me, nu-uh,” he argued back. “Okay, what about when she’s not there, what do you feel then?” 

“Sad, similar to how I’d react with you and Elle,” he blurted out another half truth. Another surface level answer that doesn’t fully cover how lost he feels without your comforting presence beside him, how gloomy any room he enters in without you in it, and how incomplete his days were without hearing your voice. 

Morgan snickered. “Lies, you have to learn how to lie better to fool an FBI profiler, Reid. You don’t think I—the team, notice that you’re quieter when she isn’t on the case with us?”

“Wait. Wait, the whole team?” His voice goes up an octave. You were part of the team, did that mean you knew of the effect you had on him too? “D-Does everyone have the same idea as you do? Everyone?” 

“Not everyone, kid. Your secret is still safe,” He smiled wide like a cat that caught the canary. “So it’s true then, you like her.” 

Spencer knew there was no escape from trap, he was just glad that his secret still remained classified from the other party involved. His shoulders sagged as he nodded to confirm Morgan’s findings.

“So what’s your play then?”

His head whipped to face his companion so fast he felt his meticulously styled hair escape the confines of his ears. “Play? There’s no play. Nothing. I’m not going to do anything and this conversation stays between us.” 

“Oh c’mon lover boy, you have to do something,” Morgan challenged. “Y’know she likes you back, right?” 

“No she doesn’t! I mean, why would she?” Spencer rambled on, unable to comprehend what Morgan was saying. “She’s her—beautiful, smart, and cool. Every case we get, there’s at least one police officer hitting on her. And I’m me—I talk too much and get awkward in every situation. The exact opposite!”

“Reid, don’t sell yourself short. She likes you, trust me on this.” He paused, listening to the update on the intercom before continuing on. “So here’s what you’re going to do. Compliment her outfit, girls appreciate that. Easy enough, don’t you think?”

Spencer really didn’t think so after all he had the tendency to go off on a tangent whenever he talks to you but he agrees nonetheless. If Morgan believes he could do it then he couldn’t mess it up, right?

———

Wrong. It was wrong to take Morgan’s advice. Never mind he can recall everything he has ever read, never mind he has an IQ of 187. What good were his talents if he, Dr. Spencer Reid, couldn’t string the proper sentences along?

It started when you walked into the office wearing this light yellow blouse that made you more radiant than he thought possible. It was as if the a ray of sun had graced the bullpen and stunned his mind into silence, rendering him tongue-tied. All his monologues and hypothesis bouncing around his overactive brain fell away and the only thing he could think of was how pretty you look.

Morgan cleared his throat, bringing him back to the living. Spencer averted his awestruck gaze and busied himself with an imaginary lint on his red sweater. 

“Hey Y/N, did anything good this weekend?” Morgan asked as you settled into your desk adjacent to his.

You shrugged nonchalantly and teased back. “I bet it wasn’t good as yours, Morgan. Picked anyone up last Friday or are your charms no longer working?”

“Huh, i see where this is going. Somebody woke up on the wrong side of bed today.”

Morgan chanced a peek at Spencer and internally groaned. How you didn’t notice the kid’s crush on you was beyond him—all the staring and blushing he does when you’re near was a dead giveaway.

“Reid. Reid,” Morgan called out.

He closed his mouth and gulped. “Hm, what?” 

Morgan pointedly stared at him and titled his head towards your direction. A movement lost to you as you noted Elle leaving Gideon’s office.

Spencer opened his mouth to catch your attention but before he could even utter your name, Elle intervened. “Question for you, the foot path killer. Why’d he stutter?”

You swiveled to face her, not having caught Spencer’s intent to speak to you. The unit chief then called them in for a case—an arson case in a university campus. His shoulders drooped as they rushed to the jet afterwards with no chance of small talk. 

When there was a lull in the plane—case discussion finished, he steeled his already apprehensive nerves and took the chance, quickly wishing he hadn’t.

“S-so, your shirt’s yellow,” he stated out loud like it was some sort of revelation. 

“Yes,” you drawled out, unsure as to where he was going with this. “That’s right, Spencer.”

He drummed his fingers on the table and continued on. “Did you know that airplanes tend to avoid the color yellow as it causes dizziness and nausea? A number of studies have shown those exact results and that’s why it’s almost never used in interiors of various forms of transportation and rarely use in advertising. It’s like how the red is the most common color used by restaurants as it psychologically makes the viewer hungry.”

You looked down on your top. Yellow was one of your favorites and you specifically chose this as Penelope said and you quote, it looks good on you, brings out your eyes. Boy genius would probably react to it too so naively you splurged on it. But this—this wasn’t the response you were hoping for. “Spence, are you saying my shirt is making you feel nauseous?”

He blushed and stammered out a strong refusal. “What, no! No! I—I meant to say—you, you look nice.”

You giggled under your breath, finding his long-winded route to giving you a compliment cute. “Nice nice or airsickness nice?” 

“Nice! Just nice!” He defended on, his voice cracking at the end. He caught Morgan’s wide eyed gaze then as if he couldn’t believe what train wreck he just witnessed. 

Cheeks heating up further, Spencer slouched in his seat and busied himself with the files wishing that he could build a memory eraser so he could wipe the events from his and the team’s minds or better yet, a time machine to redo the whole thing all over again.

The second move Spencer tried was advised by Elle Greenaway, the new recruit

“Do you think it’s weird that I knew that ballad?” He questioned during one of their cases in San Diego. It bothered him since the start of the case. How Morgan had teased him about his incapability of asking out the opposite sex. Never mind that you defended him right back, that’s a lie, it made him feel special that you did but the joke was still true. A cold stone truth. 

Elle laughed, flipping her phone repeatedly on the table while waiting for the unsub to take the bait. “I don’t know how you know half the stuff you know, but I’m glad you do.”

“Do you think that’s why I can’t get a date?” He asked as he fiddled with the unfinished Rubik’s cube in his hands.

“Have you ever asked her out?”

There was no need to ask who Elle was referring to, everyone knew of his innocent—well maybe not so innocent at times specifically during his state of dreaming—crush for the second youngest member of the team. He shifted his eyes to focus a few tables before his—at you, sitting beside JJ. “No."

“That’s why you can’t get a date.” 

One of the precincts phone then rang, it was the unsub, causing him to table that conversation in his vast memory. 

———

There’s an English saying that states ‘the second time is the charm’ and Spencer was hoping there were some truth to the idiom even with no scientific explanation to back it up. 

A few cases after San Diego, he got an opening that he was unexpectedly looking for. The team was on their way back from a case in Virginia. It was late and the profilers were all tucked in their little corners of the jet decompressing while you and Spencer were huddled on the sofa quietly discussing Doctor Who. 

“How could you say your favorite is the Ninth Doctor when you haven’t even seen the older episodes?” He rambled, clearly he would have to do something about your limited knowledge in the great universe of Doctor Who. He’d like to explain it all, 695 episodes of the classic era to you. He’d take any topic really just to have your interest.

You stared into his hazel speckled eyes and smiled, amused by his reaction. “It’s a bit hard to catch up on a show that’s been around since the 70s. Plus, it’s a challenge to look for copies.” 

“Actually, the show started in the 60s—1963, to be exact,” he clarified. “Garcia has copies we could borrow and watch together. If that’s—” he cleared his throat and clenched his fists closed, feeling his nails dig into his palms. “—that’s alright with you. If—if not, there’s a convention happening this weekend. I have an extra ticket, if you want to come with—only if you’re not busy, I mean.”

“And risk you spoiling every episode to me? I’d rather watch it alone, if you don’t mind.”

That dragged his optimism to a crash as if a twenty ton weight landed on his chest, rendering him immovable. Of course you were going to say no. There was no proof that you’d reciprocate his interests—he inwardly cursed himself for believing otherwise.

“But, I’d like to go with you to the convention,” you said and silently added as your date to yourself, shifting in your seat with a blush blooming on your cheeks at the thought. “Always wanted to go to one. If you’re fine with me not being in a costume. I think it’ll be too late to find one, don’t you think?”

Just like that, the weight on his chest lifted, making him feel weightless with glee. A wide smile grew on his face, threatening to burst his cheeks as he shook his head. “That’s alright! But you—you can always dress up as Rose!”

You titled your head to the side. “Rose?” 

“You know, the Ninth Doctor’s companion?”

“I know who she is, Spence. I just thought you didn’t watch the revived series?”

He softly scoffed. “I never said that! I watched it too, mainly to compare it to the classics but I’ve seen it.”

You leaned in, wanting to ask about his opinion on it. “Well, what do you think? I happen to be part of the minority who think the actor who reprised the role did alright.”

He liked seeing you like this. It made him feel like a puppy who had his owner’s undivided attention. All wide eyed and interested in his conjectures as to why the actor was alright himself but the problems were his short stint—making people vilify him over that decision—and the material some of the writers came up with. He appreciated you nodding along and supplying your own thoughts on the subject. It warmed his heart that here was a beautiful, smart, and cool person—way out of his league, he might add—giving her precious time away to discuss a nerdy sci-fi show that he could not rant and rave to about to anyone on the team, except for Penelope, and she’s rarely on the field with them. 

Your show of interest made him feel seen. Not as an agent with 3 PHDs, not as a genius with 187 IQ, but rather as a person with a right to express himself and occupy space. He wasn’t Agent Spencer Reid with you nor Dr. Spencer Reid, he was just Spencer who likes to watch Doctor Who and read literature in their original language. 

The third move Spencer did was proposed by Penelope Garcia, the spirited tech analyst 

“What do you mean you took her to a convention? For a date?” Penelope squeaked out, unable to comprehend the logic behind the genius’ actions.

“She said she always wanted to go,” Spencer stated as the elevator stopped on the fourth floor. He had fun over the weekend. Going around booths with you, listening to invited guest panels talk about the behind the scenes, explaining the reference every costume that you’ve pointed out, and just basking in your presence beyond cases. It was a memory he had replayed over and over after it had ended. It occupied his whole mind, and that’s saying a lot, causing him to do nothing and sit in his leather sofa and smile like a lunatic during the rest of the weekend.

“Well yeah, but that’s not date material! A date is supposed to be intimate—you and I go to conventions together, do you count that as a date?” 

“What? No! No, of course not!” 

“Exactly, boy wonder. Then what makes you think she’ll count that as a date?” She countered back as she entered her office with Spencer in tow. 

Silence. Oh.

Penelope sighed, having read the despair painting his face. “Did you at least dress up as the Ninth Doctor?”

“What? No. No, I went as the Fourth Doctor. I even hand-knitted the scarf myself.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before repeating what she just heard. “You didn’t dress up as her Doctor?”

“No,” he paused, unsure where she was going with this. “Should I had?”

“Yes! Yes, you should have!” Penelope slapped his arm out of frustration. “Why didn’t you call me once she said yes? We could have talked game plan or strategy or at least have gotten you a leather jacket to match her choice of companion.”

“Oh, I messed up then, didn’t I?” He slumped despondently on the office chair. “You—you don’t think she thought of it as a date at all?”

She played with her feathered pen, trying to find a way to salvage it for Spencer. “Did you take her out to dinner after?”

He shook his head, finally realizing his mistake.

“Oh Spencer,” she approached gently. “I can scoop for details with Y/N later on and report back to you?”

He shook his head. It didn’t feel right to have Penelope betray your trust and go behind your back over a mistake that he made. You were a honest person and you deserved to be treated with respect and reverence even though all he wanted now was peer into your viewpoint of the date—not date—and figure out once and for all if you saw him as anything beyond a co-worker and a friend. 

“Hm, I think I might just a solution,” Penelope blurted out of the blue. 

He looked up with a sliver of hope blooming in his chest. Maybe third time’s the charm. Besides, Penelope was the colleague you spent most of your time out with. You once mentioned that you considered her your best friend, besides from him of course. 

“You can bake her a batch of cookies! No one can say no to that,” she excitedly explained, believing it to be full proof—except for the fact that he doesn’t know how to bake. He wants to ask you out on a date but not to the expense of burning his whole apartment building down. 

“I can’t—I can’t bake, Garcia,” he squeaked out. “Did you know that 44% of all reported home fires are caused by cooking and baking. Those fires have resulted in an average of 470 civilian deaths and 4,150 civilian—”

She interrupted. “I’ll give you my recipe and detailed instructions to follow. That’ll make it easy peasy for you, boy genius.”

“C-can’t I just buy from her favorite bakery instead?”

“No can do, Doctor. Her favorite cookies just so happen to be my creation. She told me so herself.”

“Well, can’t I just ask you to make it for me? I’ll buy the ingredients!”

“Nope,” she dragged out her refusal. “Think of it as an act of service to her. Plus don’t you think it’s highly romantic when she finds out that you baked them yourself?” She swooned just thinking about it.

“Romantic? It won’t be romantic when I burn my apartment down, Garcia.”

She sighed. “Fine, I’ll supervise if you want. This weekend, granted if we’re free. But you—” she pointed her feathered pen at him. “—better be prepared and I’m just supervising, okay? I’m not baking it myself.”

He sighed. At least having Garcia around would make it easier.

———-

It did not in fact make it easier. Spencer burnt two batches before six pieces were considered edible. Garcia couldn’t understand, hell, he also couldn’t. Baking was precise and from his scientific viewpoint, it was a lot like chemistry. He loved science and anything academic, so how is it that he failed miserably, twice, when it came to baking? 

He shook his head as he entered the office. The first one—he stole a glance at Hotch’s office and saw movement—correction, the second one arriving early. Sometimes he wondered if the unit chief ever goes home, first in and last out.

He settled in his seat before promptly fidgeting from anticipation. Statistically speaking, you arrive earlier than Morgan or Elle which gave him enough time to gift the paper bag of cookies sitting hidden in his satchel without bringing attention to and embarrassing himself. He’d like to have little to no audience if he ever does mess it up for the third time. 

He brought out the cookies, afraid they’ll get crushed between his hardbound books, and placed them on your desk before standing to wash his clammy hands and make coffee. Counter intuitive of him to do as he was already a bundle of nerves and by drinking caffeine he was doubling that but maybe the smell would calm him before shooting up his energy by drinking.

As he exited the mens room, Penelope stepped out of the elevator and squealed. “Is she here? Is she? Did I miss it?”

He shook his head vigorously, trying to silence her excited glees. “No, she’s not here yet. She’ll—” he looked at his watch and ran the numbers. “—be here soon. I’m about to brew coffee. Do you want some?” He opened the door for both of them to enter the bullpen.

“Ick, no thanks,” Penelope said, scrunching her nose at the thought of drinking even a sip before scurrying away to her cave. “I’d rather not ruin my taste buds on bad coffee.”

He laughed and turned towards the kitchenette. With the coffee brewing, he drummed his fingers on the counter and mentally rehearsed what he would say to you. If he practiced, there’s less chance of messing it up like the first time, right? In his state of concentration, he missed you entering the office in all of your beautiful glory.

“Ooh cookies!” you exclaimed as you opened the unknown package on your table.

Spencer abruptly turned, hitting his side on the corners as he did. His eyes widened as he registered you holding the unsigned paper bag of treats on your desk. 

“They must be from Penny,” You continued on, oblivious to his presence and the devastation your remark caused him. Of course, he’d find another way to mess it up. You glanced around and your smile widened as you took in his handsome presence. “Oh hey Spence! Look, Penny made me cookies!” You tip-toed out of excitement. 

He smiled at your enthusiasm for something as simple as treats in the morning. The giggle you gave out as you entered the kitchenette was enough for him to slightly care less for the truth. He loved bringing out the happiness in you. It was like his own personal sunshine shining down on him, soaking him with vitamin D and boosting his overall sense of wellbeing. “Do you want coffee with that? It’s still hot,” he offered. 

You tapped the side of your hips with his as a sign of good will. “Thanks, Spence! This is turning out to be a great day, don’t you think?”

He watched as you busied yourself with putting cream and sugar in your of cup and sighed wistfully. “I think so too.”

And the last move Spencer did was recommended by no one but himself, the awkward 187 genius

With all three acts not delivering, he promised to try one last time without any outside interference besides from yours in his memory. You always did tell him to be himself in any situation, no matter how much he stumbled through any awkward situation—always there giving him a pat on the back for encouragement. 

Over the weekend, he spent his time reading two of your favorite books—which didn’t take much but he did read them again and again, regardless of his eidetic memory, trying to understand why these specific books were your comfort. Always pushed within the confines of your go bag, dog-eared and brown from age. He wanted to know how they’ve become an extension of you and how it had shaped you to the woman he has fallen in love with. 

He found himself hunched over his dining table, underlining sentences that made him think of you, scribbling away on the margins (and sometimes on post its too), and tabbing the written pages with a variety of colors that each represent an emotion. The act in it of itself made him feel closer to you than he thought possible. Lines in the books that made him think, ah so this was what formed your kind spirit. This is why your empathy knew no bounds. And this is why your beauty is inside and out.  

Spencer laid down to rest, anxious for the next day, Monday, to come. His heart threatening to beat out of his chest but his mind oddly calm as if it had a precognition that everything would turn out just right.

———

You arrived earlier than he did, throwing him off balance. 

“Hey Spence!” You greeted with a smile. “I got you a croissant and some coffee from that shop near my place.”

He blushed and stammered out a thank you. You were wearing a deep purple blouse that matched the scarf around his neck—the birthday gift you’ve given. He was no believer of the mystics but he took all of these as a sign from the stars. There was no way he would mess this up now.

“I—I got you something too,” he looked inside his satchel, hands shaking from it all. Gods, he wished this would go well or else, he might just die from embarrassment. “It’s nothing much but—I read your two favorite books and just—I wanted to discuss it with you,” he brought out the tabbed copies and presented them to you. “These are for you. I know you have copies of your own but I-I put my own notes on which lines reminded me of you.”

Your face turned red at the notion behind it all. Here was the BAU genius, the certified lover of the classics and the academia, the man who had your affections since day one, reading two contemporary literatures just for him to present you a gift like no other. You reached out and hugged the precious copies to your chest. 

“Thank you, no one’s ever done this for me before,” you breathed out, falling deeper into attraction with the perfection in front of you. “ Hey Spence, I may sound delusional asking this and you can say no if you want to but—” you visibly gulped, unaware of the audience nearby. “—would you like to have dinner with me? I make a mean lasagna.”

He turned red and vigorously nodded. “Y-Yes. Yes, I’d love to have dinner with you.”

You giggled, sounding like wind chimes to his ears. He did too, giggle I mean, from the triumph of finally knowing that his feelings were willingly reciprocated.

“Finally, you love birds!” Morgan shouted as he swung his arm around Spencer. “Didn’t know how much we could take from this pretty boy—” pointing at him “asking for advice and you—” pointing at you “—pretty girl is as dense as a rock. Tell me again how’d you end up as profiler with those observation skills.” 

A hand whacked him at the back. “Way to ruin the moment, Morgan.” Elle chided before turning to Spencer with a smile. “See told you, you could get a date.”

[velvetydream]

꒰ :🥀 [ The radio star lost ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : Your husband was the feared serial criminal in New Orleans, Louisiana, and you where his dearly beloved wife, his right hand. So.. Oh what a despair was awaiting you soon..

Pairing : Human! Alastor x Wife! Reader

Word count : 3549 Words

Genre : Angst, Drama, Romance (a bit)

Warnings ➵ Murder, Swearing, Blood, Death, Guns,

Death penality, Corpses

a/n : Continuation of my Alastor x Wife! Reader > Till death do us part < , seeing as this isn't really a continuation, but rather a prequel, it can be read as a stand-alone, hope ya'll still enjoy it just as much as the first part!♡

Another thing in advance, this is purely fiction and shall not be seen anywhere near reality, I do not condone anything in this and it's pureply based on fiction.

┌───────────────────────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

1933'

You were like Bonnie and Clyde. A criminal duo, invincible. Or so you thought.

Alastor, your beloved husband. The man you had known for almost two decades, married for almost one decade now. You loved him dearly, even with his little quirks and tendencies. He worked as a well-known and quite popular radio host in New Orleans. Yet he had a tendency for disposing of those he deemed right, you had helped him many times already. Having found out way before you even married him, how he was a murderer, yet you found it enticing, how his mind worked, who he deemed worthy to let go.

"Dear, the meal is almost ready!" You got pulled out of your thoughts by the soft voice of your husband. It was rather unusual for the man to cook in a marriage, but your relationship was far from ordinary, so you enjoyed it. His cooking was far better than yours after all. "I'm coming!" Standing up from the couch, you make your way over to the kitchen, there he was in all his glory. His brown hair was pushed back, glasses sitting on top of his head instead of resting on his nose, and sleeves pushed up to not get them dirty, ironic considering the amount of times he got them bloody. "It smells amazing my beloved! Thank you so much!" A quick peck was pressed to your husband's cheek, as you took a seat at the table, some amazing meal steaming on the table. Alastor puts his apron away, sitting down as he slides his glasses back onto his nose.

Dinner time was always one of your favorites during the day, enjoying a warm meal while talking to your husband about both of your days.

Just after you had finished dinner, your husband took a seat in front of the piano, letting his hands softly glide over the tiles. The instrument echoed with the soft tune he was playing. Walking behind him, you lay your arms around his neck softly, swaying your body a bit to the music he played. Alastor was a talented man with instruments, being able to play a few of them, the piano being one of them. Also quite talented with the violin. "Oh my darling, what a beautiful tune as always~" Humming along now. No one heard the screams coming from the basement. The desperate screams of your next victim.

"When we're talking about music right now my dearest, Mimzy invited us to her performance tomorrow! So how about we postpone our.. plans to the day after tomorrow?" No killing and instead going to Mimzy's show? Oh yes! "Oh, how lovely that sounds! Of course!" Agreeing to his proposal. But for now, you two get ready for bed, lying down in your shared bed.

Another one of your favorite times of the day, getting to lay down with him and finally rest, letting the stress and exhaustion of the day pass. "Did I ever tell you that I love you a lot?" Resting your head on your husband's chest now, who was silently reading a book, closing it now that you were talking to him. "Many times darling and I do love you a lot too~" Alastor knew his way around words for sure, he was such a sweet talker, but that's one of the things you appreciated about him. Raising your head to face him, you take a glance at his lips, before up into his eyes, you knew how he felt about touches he didn't initiate, right now you were only cuddling because he pulled you onto him. Chuckling lowly, he lowers his head down and captures your soft lips with his. Alastor's kisses mostly were soft, like a butterfly resting on your hand or like a spring breeze. Usually, his kisses were planted on your hand or cheek, but from now and then he gave you the satisfaction of a soft kiss on the lips, which always left you giggling like you were right now. Falling asleep in the safe embrace of your husband shortly after.

The next day went by smoothly. Alastor was busy with his work as a radio host, while you took care of the house and did some grocery shopping, meeting up with a few friends of yours over tea. Shortly before you went home for the day, you visited Alastors mothers grave to leave some flowers and clean it, you sadly never met her, but your husband tends to tell you a lot of stories about her. Sitting down by the grave for a minute, you tell her a bit about what Alastor has been doing, how you were loving his cooking and music as always. It was a habit of yours, you hoped she was listening to all the good things you were telling her about him. Taking your things after a while, you bid your goodbye to his mother's grave as you make your way back home. Putting away the groceries before starting to freshen up. Loving to take your time to get ready when you and Alastor decide to go out in the evening.

"Dearest I'm home!" Hearing the lovely voice of your husband calling from the door, answering him now, how you were getting ready. Putting on your favorite dress. It was made out of a beautiful deep red color with black lace all over it, a few gems here and there. Your best jewelry could of course not be missing, most of it you got from Alastor or your own mother. "Darling I'm ready! How far are you?" Exiting the bathroom now, searching for your husband and finding him in the kitchen with a glass of whisky. "Oh my, what do I see here? What a lovely gem you are darling!" Abandoning his glass, Alastor walks over to you, taking your hand as he twirls you around, before kissing the back of your hand. Clad in a black suit, his button-up shirt underneath dark red matching to your dress, while his bowtie was adorned with a red gem, he looked lovely. "My you also look lovely dearest! Definitely going to catch some eyes!" Hooking your arm in his now, you together leave the house and make your way to where Mimzy's show will be held.

Mimzy was a great friend of Alastor, a blonde gorgeous but short lady, who performed like no other. Arriving at the place, you were led to a table for the regulars, as Alastor and you were known by the staff by now. Ordering two drinks, as you await the show. Soon lights go out and Mimzy comes out, her singing and dancing amazing like always.

"Dollface! Pumpkin!" Mimzy's voice was booming as she approached your table, giving both of you an affectionate hug. You ended up talking with her for quite a while, telling her how amazing her performance was and that you were so glad that she invited you two again. Thanking you for your kind words, her attention quickly diverted to Alastor again. It was almost always like this, she said she liked both of you, but you couldn't shake the feeling that she did have a certain distaste for you. But you decided to let it slide like always, as you listened to Alastor tell Mimzy what you two were up to since you've last seen her.

Alastor of course started to notice how you were getting irritated by Mimzy and how she was only focusing on him. "My dear, I think my lovely wife is not feeling so well tonight, perhaps it would be better to take our leave now, still thank you for having us as always. Till the next time." Alastor stood up now as Mimzy stomped off with an annoyed face, extending his hand for you. Smiling at him softly as you take his hand and let him lead you outside. A shiver ran down your spine as your arms got goosebumps, a coat was soon placed over your shoulders, looking over to Alastor who watched you with a soft smile. "Dear, next time you feel uncomfortable please do tell me and we will leave immediately, you know how much I care for your comfort." Thanking him, you take his arm as he leads you through the park to your home, it was a little longer than walking through the streets, but it was calming to walk through nature together.

"Shall we head to bed? It's been a long day and evening." Taking the coat from your shoulders at home, he hangs it on the hanger beside the door. "I love that idea, let me tell you about my day in bed, I visited your mothers grave again." You were already walking to the room as you talked to him, so you weren't able to see his eyes follow you as they softened. It saddened him you never got to meet his mother, she would've loved you dearly, just as he does. Telling him all about what you told her before, how you left flowers and also cleaned her gravestone, as you settled into bed, as he was changing into his sleepwear. Alastor was so thankful for having a caring and lovely wife like you.

The night went by fast, today Alastor would finally have a day off from work, which meant a different kind of work today for both of you!

The steps down to the basement squeaked as Alastor put his weight on them, your heels making clicky noises as you followed him down a stark contrast in sound. And there sat the victim he deemed perfect for his next case. The screams would be recorded for his personal little collection. You were getting everything ready for him, it would be interesting to watch like always. Alastor changed so much when he killed, no shimmer or glimmer in his eyes, not how he looked at you, the soft gaze replaced with a blood thirsty one. Liking it quickly, you were soon getting rid of the victim, this time deciding to bury him in a forest, you opted for the forest a few times already even though it was a bit risky, it was the easiest to get rid of them. At home, Alastor decided to take a bath, as he told you to head to bed already with a kiss on your cheek.

When he joined you in bed, he looked relaxed, cuddling up to you. Murders always ended like this, it somehow made him so calm and affectionate with you. Placing a soft kiss on your neck, as his arms hold your waist. Your hand threaded through his brown soft locks, something you loved to do. For once your beloved husband fell asleep quicker than you, making you be able to watch him sleep, not in a creepy way, but in a loving way. Alastor was often so stressed with work, yes he loved being a radio host, but it sometimes got to him. Rubbing your fingers over his cheek softly, then over the bags under his eyes before pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. Yourself slowly falling into dreamland.

Morning came way too quickly, Alastor was back to work, and while you decided to stay at home and do some housekeeping, a few rooms needed cleaning. A friend of yours stopping by to tell you how a new corpse was apparently discovered by the police, which is connected to the many murder cases lately. Tensing up a little bit when she told you how they discovered it in the forest after one of the farmers nearby saw some shadows in there. It couldn't be the corpse from last night, right? Simply agreeing with her that you would be careful, even telling her how your dear husband would never let something happen to you on his watch, which made her coo at your marriage, if only she knew..

Mid conversation your husband comes home, greeting you with a soft kiss on the cheek before he leaves for the back of your home. Your friend leaves soon after, as you go and search for your beloved. Finding him in his office, gripping the table. You knew what was about to come.

"Dear?" Approaching him, Alastor pushes everything on his table off, papers scattering, a cup breaking as pens roll all over the floor. "They already discovered it.. HOW?! I was careful! Pathetic! How dare they! Are they making fun of me?!" Worried for your husband, yet you stood still, listening to him. "I had to talk about it today! At the broadcast! Act as if I was surprised! Haha! If only they knew! Right doll?!" Turning around, his eyes were darting around the room, before falling onto you, laughing as he took your hand to pull you in. "They really think they can discover us like this! US! They are worthless! Pathetic even! Oh my dear! We truly are the greatest!" He was twirling you around as if dancing now, despite no music playing. Only his mad monologue. You've dealt with this behavior a couple of times already, knowing to just let him act and talk for now as he pleased. "Oh, what a wonderful day my beloved! I will go and make my favorite dish for us now! How beautiful!" Leaving the room now, a skip in his step, as you bend down to clean up the mess your husband caused.

Joining him in the kitchen now, as he was softly humming to the radio as he was cooking his favorite, Jambalaya.

A knocking sounds from your door, looking up, you tell Alastor you are going to get it, and upon opening it you come face to face with a detective and a police officer. "Greetings ma'am, is your husband home?" His voice was deep, you nodded, leaning the door closed as you hurried into the kitchen to get your husband. "Greetings gentleman, how may I help you?" Alastor opened the door composed as ever, drying his hands from washing them with a clean towel, as he gave the men at the door a polite smile. You retreated back to the living room, still listening to their conversation. Asking him about the murder cases, why him? It was probably only because of the radio broadcast, right? Maybe his boss told him to talk about it without the detective's permission. As the door closes and Alastor is back in the kitchen, still calm as always as you join him. "Dear? What did they talk about?" Looking up at him with worry written all over your face, he turns to you. "Don't worry your pretty little head dearest, it was nothing to be mentioned! Smile dear, you know you're never fully dressed without one!" Pushing the corners of your mouth up with his fingers now, making you smile, before shushing you out of the kitchen so he can cook. Not able to help it but worry, were you about to be figured out?

But over the course of the next few days it all calmed down again, no more police officers or detectives visiting you, which finally calmed your mind. Alastor meanwhile had found a new target, telling you about this man he met the other day and what bothered him. It was all back to normal now, which you were glad about. Till this one dreadful day.

Alastor and you made quick work of the man, your husband telling you to stay home this time to clean up and that he would take care of this on his own. You worried again, but he assured you that he would be quick, after cleaning up and getting rid of any evidence, you cleaned yourself and sat down to wait for your beloved. Yet after hours of not coming back, you grew anxious, desperate even to know what took him so long. As a knock echoes through your house, you rush to the door, opening it ready to scold your husband for taking so long, but your breath stops when a detective stands in front of you.. What happened?

He asked to enter your home, sitting you down on the couch as he took a seat opposite of you on the armchair. "Your husband got shot ma'am, he was burying a corpse, we assume him to be the serial killer at fault for so many murders lately. He passed away instantly, I'm sorry for your loss and to bring you this horrific and murderous news." Your ears were ringing. Huh? Shot? Was that man joking with you? Was he someone Alastor paid to prank you? No, he wasn't the type for these kinds of pranks. Tears were streaming down your face, burying it in your hands now, sobs shaking your whole body. If that stupid man just knew, knew how you helped your husband with everything! Stupid! "Ma'am I-" The detective started, when you darted up, grabbing the man by his hair and throwing him out of your house. "Get lost! Never show up again! Leave.. NOW!" Slamming the door shut now, he probably took this as a shock to knowing who your husband really was, but you knew that already for years. Sinking to your knees, your arms hug around you as your head hits the floor, screams and cries of agony echo through the now empty halls. Your husband, the man you loved so much was dead, just like this? What sick nightmare was this? Cries reduced to soft sobs when your throat started to hurt, by now your body was curled up into itself on the floor and like that, you fell asleep.

The next day you awoke to the sunlight, your body sore from crying and sleeping on the floor, looking around for a second, for Alastor before it doomed on you, he was dead. Shot like an animal.

Your mother accompanied you to identify your late husband, you of course clad in all black. His forehead is now adorned with a hole, the detective explaining to you that he was mistaken for a deer. Asking for some privacy from everyone, you were left alone in the room. If it wasn't for that damned hole he looked like he was simply sleeping, peacefully like the night before. Leaning down to press one last kiss to his temple. "I will always love you my dearest, for now and forever, till I join you in death."

Leaving the room, you didn't dare look back, you were going forward from now on, knowing that someday you would meet him again.

Your mother had offered for you to move back in with her, but you told her despite what he did, he was a lovely husband to you and that you weren't able to yet let go, which she understood. Back at your home, you sat down and just stared at the wall. Why did this have to happen? You could be cuddling together right now or enjoying a meal, but that would never be the case ever again. But you told yourself, swore yourself with that last kiss to his temple that you would carry on in his memory. And so you did, three more murders continued after your husband was dead, till you were discovered.

In front of the law, you were sentenced to the death due to having caused three murders yourself and helped with multiple, carried out by your late husband. You accepted it, not that anyone asked, but you would be seeing your husband again, at least you hoped you would. A few days later after the case was closed and you were sentenced, it happened.

1935'

"Alastor! Dearest! Charlie told me you wanted to see me?" Entering the radio tower with a bright smile, Alastor turned to you with his signature smile. "My beloved! You look lovely as always! Look at you, aren't you a little gem!" He was walking over to you, his red ears on his head bouncing slightly with each step he took. Closing your eyes now as he told you to do so, a sensation of something cold around your neck running through your body now. "Open up doll!" Opening your eyes and looking down, your eyes tear up. It was a necklace, that looked similar to one he gifted you on the first anniversary of your marriage. "Alastor.." Looking up at him, as a few tears escaped your eyes.

"Now now sweetheart, we don't want you crying hm? Smile dear! You know you're never fully dressed without one!" Giggling a little bit at that quote, he had used it so often when you two were alive. Not being able to help yourself, you throw your arms around his neck and pepper kisses all around his face and lastly a big kiss on his lips, you would be apologizing for suddenly kissing him later, but right now you just needed to kiss him. "I'm glad you love it dearest!" His arms are around your waist now as he laughs at the tickling kisses placed on his face, starting to spin you around as with a snip of his fingers music starts to play.

Charlie and Vaggie watch the soft moment from the door, tears streaming from the blonde's face as her girlfriend pulls her away to give you two some privacy.

[ozzgin]

Santa baby are you really there?!

*hears a voice in my backyard*

FUCK SKIN WALKER

- you make Yan skinwalker i’ll do anything to get a skin walker to love me … yes I am 100% mentally stable

I'm not sure if you had something horror-esque in mind, because my immediate idea was Reader accidentally getting cursed and continuing her life completely unaware with a ""dog"" everyone is freaked out by, but she finds it cute. So more like dark comedy vibes. You be the judge. :D

Disclaimer: I have changed the name to Shapeshifter as to not delve into potentially offensive takes on native folklore. Thank you for informing my European ass.

Yandere!Monster x Reader [Shapeshifter]

On your last hiking trip, you've stumbled upon a helpless, lost dog. Or rather, it stalked you down to your cabin and spent the night in front of your window. You didn't have the heart to abandon the poor soul and so you brought it home with you. Strange things have been happening ever since and no one knows how to tell you that the monstrous coyote-like creature might be to blame. You're oblivious to everything.

Content: female reader, dark comedy, monster romance, reader is cursed and proud

It wasn't your intention to return home with a new pet. Some might say it was written in the stars, this fateful encounter of yours. You had finished packing your supplies for a day-long hike, vehemently refusing to join your group of friends that would be guided around by a native. They’d warned you many areas of the mountainous forest were supposedly cursed or haunted, so you just scribbled the limits on your makeshift map and promised to stay on the main trails. After all, this was your chance to commune with nature. As the sun begun to set, you wondered if going by yourself was indeed a smart idea, given your lack of spatial awareness and difficulty to navigate maps. You flipped the piece of paper several times, deep in contemplation. Could it be that you’ve reached the forbidden lands? You quickly surveyed the area: based on the stuffed rag dolls hanging from old branches, and the animal skulls arranged in patterns among patches of burnt grass, it was very much a possibility. Perhaps the improvised slab that said “Stay away” in dripping crimson letters should’ve been enough of a warning, but you assumed they’d just been creative with trail markers.

You didn’t have the time to panic. Just as you were furrowing your eyebrows in a final attempt to decipher the map (at the time upside-down), your ears picked up a faint shuffle of leaves. Further away stood a dog, its glossy eyes fixated on your form. A lost puppy? It seemed to be on the larger side, but then again some breeds grow rather fast. You lowered yourself and patted your knees, whispering diminutives in an effort to call the animal over. It remained in place, staring quietly. Alright, then. You focused on finding your way back instead. Every now and then you'd turn back and see the dog, motionlessly eyeing you at a constant distance. Oh, dear. Was it lost? Frightening affair.

Back at the cabin you told the others about your discovery, with a hint of worry in your voice. You hoped the little pup had found proper shelter. You'd expected a similar reaction coming from your friends, but one of them suggested: "What if it was some shapeshifting monster? There's many legends and stories from the area." Everyone laughed and you joined hesitantly, mildly annoyed by the lack of empathy. That night you barely slept, twisting and turning under the heavy feeling of being watched. You woke up tired and nervous, dragging your feet towards the window for some fresh air. That's when you saw the same forest creature, fully awake and tall in its glory, positioned before your room. This was no coincidence. You had been plagued by the guilt of abandoning a vulnerable quadruped and you weren't about to continue as a passive observer. You strode out without a word and lifted the large dog with a huff, carrying it back in to figure out the transport logistics.

Thus started the unexpected companionship. To you, it's a lovely tale of two lost souls finding one another. Most people seem to disagree. Can you blame them? The rescued puppy you often speak of is, in the eyes of everyone else, a monstrous beast by all definitions. It resembles a coyote more than a dog, but even this description is too gentle. The fur is always raised threateningly and the protruding clusters of fangs remind one of the anatomical anomalies displayed in museums. The eyes, oh, the worst of all perhaps, bottomless depths that pull you in until you run out of air. The creature stares with the all-knowing gaze of a human. "Don't be rude", you snap at whoever dares to point these details out. "It must be a mixed breed or something."

Their persistence is truly ridiculous. You've even had guests run out in panic, claiming the dog stood on its back legs and whispered in a language unknown. Or that its shadow would morph into a grotesque man with claws and crooked antlers. Or that they've found it hunched over your sleeping form, its spine twisted outwards with jagged peaks breaking through the wild fur. Rubbish, all of it.

Strange things have been happening, no doubt, but your adopted fur-child has no blame to carry. You've been trying to distract yourself, going on dates and occasionally bringing potential suitors over. They all vanish overnight, nonchalantly leaving an empty, ruffled bed for you to wake up to. "Am I just unlucky?" You sigh, running your fingers through the coarse fur of your dog. It lowers itself under your touch, visibly enjoying the affection. For a split second, it glances out the window. By the time you come out of your depressed slump, the birds should've finished feeding on the remains. He made sure to tear and grind everything fine enough to not leave any marks behind.

That's how curses work, after all. He didn't expect, however, that you'd be utterly unaware of it. He has to give you the credit, not many people become stalked by an ancient curse and continue their life in blissful ignorance. Even more, for them to just casually pick up the haunting entity and bring it inside their home willingly...You're, uh, certainly a special one. Hence the change of plans. He was supposed to torment you into an early grave, but he's grown rather attached to your bizarre antics. And you do provide some damn good chin scratches. He's therefore satisfied with causing anguish and destruction to anything and anyone in your immediate vicinity instead. Since you've been complaining about the resulting isolation...

You wake up with a gasp, wiping your drenched forehead and checking the sheets. The dog is curled next to you, although its head is now tilted in your direction. "O-oh. It might be the loneliness talking...but I had the strangest dream." How troubling and embarrassing. Your beloved pet had turned into a deformed, monstrous man instead, pinning you down and hungrily grazing your skin with his sharp teeth. Your fearful protests eventually turned into shameless moans, your frail body at the mercy of the mysterious beast. It unfolded so vividly that your core feels sore. You stretch a sheepish hand towards your pet and abruptly stop halfway, noticing the marks diffused into your wrist, like violet smudges of watercolor. What the hell did you do last night?

The dog buries its head under the sheets and nuzzles its snout into your soft flesh. Heh. How many more disappearing guests will be needed for you to figure out your situation? He does find your obliviousness terribly amusing, as well as your willingness to clutch onto him despite his unsightly appearance. He was feeling particularly cheeky and thought of giving you a little scare, only to be once again taken aback by your neediness. He has to wonder who exactly is trapped in this situation, because your reactions to everything he does are frighteningly tempting. Maybe tonight he'll finally let you know, just as you're about to come undone beneath his heaving body. Something like, hmmm. "By the way, love, this isn't a dream." He could even add a little "woof" to tease you more.

[https-lvesick]

CAUGHT ON CAMERA — starring f!reader x na jaemin (ft. jeno and haechan, the perverts)

jeno and haechan know they can always count on their best friend, jaemin, and that's why they borrow his camera for a project. they just didn't expect to get the wrong camera... and enjoy every second of it.

content 𖹭 jaem!big dick, sex tape (size diff, breeding, stomach bulge, fingering, slight nipple sucking, m!oral + cum eating), m!masturbation

notes 𖹭 another big thanks for my baby @sinisxtea for proofreading this!

it wasn't unusual to see na jaemin walking around the campus carrying a camera and photographing everything he found cool. the devoted photography student had an unique artistic view, in his mind, anything could be turned into art. ordinary objects, situations and even some students were his objects of art, but there was only one thing, precious enough to worth his devotion: you. jaemin's object of adoration. he was so committed to you and to show the beauty of every single thing you'd do, he bought a camera exclusively for you.

that camera was special. It could only support videos and photos of you. you could be doing anything. playing with stray cats, eating, painting your nails, putting on some makeup, but his favourite moments were the intimate ones.

jaemin just... he couldn't handle your preciousness. in every aspect, he felt the need, the urge to capture and keep your beauty. especially when you put on a little show just to show him your new lingerie set. or maybe when you were choking with his cock down your throat, your makeup smudged all over your face. fuck... he could list every video that the camera had ever captured.

and knowing how committed, na jaemin, a third-year photography student, was to his major, donghyeok, his roommate, thought he could borrow one of his cameras for a project.

“did you even ask him for it, you dumbass? what if he took his camera with him?” jeno comments, leaning on the door frame, watching his friend search for one of the most valuable items for jaemin.

“wasn't he just driving his girl home? why does he need a camera for that?” the younger cusses, messing with jaemin's drawer.

“sure, but you know how in love he is and how he just keeps anything she does.” jeno rolls his eyes, almost giving up on convincing his friend to find an object he didn't even ask permission to use.

“finally!” donghyeok laid his eyes on something deep in the closet. he takes the camera and closes the doors.

“i still think that's the worst idea you've ever had. what if jaemin sees a picture of you there? especially if it's on the camera that, again, was deep in his closet.” jeno emphasizes his last words, trying to knock some sense into his friend, but knowing he wouldn't listen, he just adds: “at least check to see if it's charged.”

“that's what i'm trying to do...” donghyeok says focused. the two guys were already sitting in the corner of jaemin's bed. he turned the camera on and you are the first thing they saw, wearing a flowy light blue dress. jaemin and you were on a date and you were showing how to make your boyfriend's favourite sandwich. “how can someone be so pretty...” he murmurs, sighing.

“i don't know...” jeno says, letting himself get lost at the sound of your voice and how your beaming smile could lighten up his whole day. honestly, they can get where all of jaemin's adoration comes from. if he had a girlfriend like you, he'd also keep every single moment to himself. then he realized what he was thinking. “but she's our best friend's girlfriend, right? the camera is fully charged, we can see it, then c'mon.” he stands up, but donghyeok immediately pulls him to sit again.

“c'mon jen, we're already here. this might be the camera he dedicated to her. don't you wanna see more of this... damn sculpture? you sure?” the younger lee skips some photos and videos, stopping at a video where you're wearing a bikini. you were laughing with jaemin while taking off your sundress, talking about going to the water. the focus goes all to your ass, while you walk to the water and they can hear jaemin's mischievous laugh along with a perverted comment.

they knew it wasn't cool to desire their best friend's girlfriend, but were they the ones to blame when you looked that pretty? you looked like some fancy masterpiece sculpted by michelangelo in his peak of inspiration. are they the ones to blame when you looked like aprodithe's daughter yourself, being allowed to live among those poor and useless human beings, gifting them your graciousness? you must be the girl of every guy's dream and they're lucky to have a best friend good enough to win a lotto. at least they get to see you often.

as donghyeok passed the videos, the two guys found themselves more and more immersed in you. and jaemin is completely right to be obsessed with you.

“holy fuck...” haechan whispers, licking his lips before biting his lower lip. jeno comes closer, eyes wide open when he notices what's happening on the video.

“come here.” Jaemin's voice is heard and you comply. you crawl to the corner of the bed, where your boyfriend was, and sit still.

you were wearing an expensive lingerie set that was driving not only one, but three men crazy. the bra hugged your breasts so prettily that they wondered if they'd fit that good in their hands.

“nana... your cock...” you let out a whiny plea. almost purring like a cat. your sparkling eyes, begging your boyfriend to stop flauting you to the camera and to let you suck on him.

it's not that hard to deduce that jaemin may have been lowering his pants.

“haechan, enough.” jeno warns, trying to be rational, but yet his eyes were glued on the little screen that was showing you, kitty licking jaemin's tip, teasing him. you were even rubbing his cock between your breasts, slobbering on it.

“fuck it, he's not here to see what we're doing.” donghyeok says in a low voice, holding the camera in one hand, as the other was lowering his shorts.

“haechan, what the fuck!” the older lee exclaims, completely shocked with his friend's attitude.

“jeno, if you don't wanna stay, then leave. and you better don't open that fucking mouth of yours to jaemin.” he spits on his palm, before dragging it along his shaft, lubricating his length. “but you can't deny the obvious.” haechan laughs, looking at jeno’s pants, before turning his full attention to the video.

jaemin's hand was guiding your head, sucking him off as if it was your life goal. you sucked his tip, forcing your tongue on his slit, making your boyfriend cuss, and squeeze lightly his full balls. he's so fucking good at what he's doing, and so are you. shortly after, he's pulling your hair, prying you off of his cock.

“open that pretty mouth of yours, huh?” he asks, jerking off right on your mouth. In a matter of few seconds, you can taste his salty cum on your tongue and you swallow when he spills more on your boobs.

jeno was standing, thinking about this whole situation. he looked at his friend having fun and looks at his own problem, getting more uncomfortable. the way donghyeok looked so satisfied watching whatever was happening on the screen awakened his interest and desire. fuck, she was his best friend's girlfriend, but... she was fucking pretty and when would he get any opportunity like that again?

“this might be harassment or something like that…” he mumbles, retaking his place beside his friend and frees his cock out of his pants. jeno could see haechan's mischievous smile, so he said first: “don't you even get started, you nasty dog.” even with that said, donghyeok didn't seem very offended, after all, who is he to say anything?

by this time you were already laying in bed, your legs spread for jaemin and the camera, consequently, the two perverts watching that. your glistening cunt gushing your juices, while your boyfriend collected every drop of it with his long fingers, teasing your slit.

“how many?” jaemin asks, threatening to insert the tip of two of his fingers, but never doing it.

“three, nana…” you whine, biting your lower lip, watching your boyfriend smile and tease you, the same way you'd do to him. that's until he inserts the three fingers you requested, all at once.

haechan was sure that sweet, languid, moan would linger in his mind forever. jeno, on the other hand, was sure he will never be able to look at his friend and his girlfriend again. he'd rather throw himself off of the window. as soon as he cums.

with each movement of jaemin's fingers, the wet squelching sound could be heard. it made your eyes roll while jeno and haechan make it an opportunity to fasten their own movements. jeno gulps, looking straight at your wet hole, salivating. fuck, he imagines how good it must be to feel you. he's sure you're tight and nice to be inside of. he tighten his grip, forcing his cock on a tighter hole. haechan also salivates, watching how good you take jaemin's fingers. he stops his hand's movements, thrusting his hips up, imagining it was your pussy he was fucking.

jaemin takes his fingers out of you and the boys could suppose what he was doing. he was tasting you on his own fingers. haechan curses, caressing his balls, and closes his eyes, catching his lower lip between his teeth. jeno slows his rhythm, tracing his fingers along his abs.

your boyfriend hovers over you and kisses you. his free hand traces your body, searching for your bra's clasp, undoing it. you discard the piece, feeling jaemin's wet kisses on your skin, and then you feel his plump lips wrapping around your nipple. you shiver feeling your boyfriend's warm tongue, hugging him.

“jaem…” you call, almost like crying, and jaemin smiles against your skin, understanding well your wish. he pulls the mound of flesh between his teeth making you hiss.

“how could i deny you?” he mocks and stands up, taking off his pants. when he resumes his position above you, he rests his cock on your tummy.

and that's when they realize how smaller than jaemin you are.

“no fucking way! this won't fit, no shit.” donghyeok smiled, clearly having fun. “this might be better than some cheap ass porn i've ever watched in my life.” his eyes lighten up with excitement. jeno only nods, lost in pleasure.

jaemin rubs his tip on your slit, forcing himself slowly. “no matter how many times i fuck you... will you ever open enough for me, darling?” he growls, getting even further inside you.

“jaem, it's too big!” you whine, gripping the bed sheets and closing your eyes, arching your back.

for a moment, your boobs shake and donghyeok loves it, almost losing it. he considers replay that part, but maybe another time, when he's alone.

when jaemin is fully inside you and the bulge is perfectly visible, jeno cums with a grunt. haechan laughs, teasing his friend. “good job, jen! hit it that fast?”

“shut the fuck up, lee donghyeok.” jeno grits his teeth. the truth is, jeno has a thing for bulge. it was the first thing he searched for when he was trying to relieve some stress. it was the first thing he thought when getting laid and now... knowing you were so small that a bulge was surely made on your belly made him see stars.

jaemin moves. starts slow, helping you get used to his size, even if you had done it plenty of times before, he was too big for you, no matter how many times when you were fucked by him, but then he picks up his pace. his hand presses the bulge on your stomach for a while, before gripping your thigh. his rhythm is rough, intense, so much that it makes your breasts move at each snap of his hips. and haechan felt like he was in heaven.

your moans starts to get more desperate and high-pitched. you call your boyfriend's name like a mantra while resting one of your hands on his stomach. jaemin doesn't stop, only picking up his pace, getting even rougher. he feels your pussy gripping his cock, identifying your orgasm. your eyes roll to the back of your skull and your mouth remains wide open for a while until you feel it dry, feeling jaemin squirting all of his seed inside of you.

“you fine, love?” he asks, slowing down his pace, only so you can come down off your high. you can just nod.

jaemin finally turns his camera, focusing right where your bodies meet. he thrusts a few more times, before getting out of you. the moment his cum is seen dripping out of you like a cascade is when haechan loses it, cumming with a whiny moan.

jaemin says something else, but the boys could care less, so donghyeok turns off the camera, putting it on the bed. jeno and haechan remain in silence for a moment.

“this might be the best thing my eyes have ever seen.” “that must be the gayest thing i've ever done.” they say at the same time.

“what?” haechan says.

“c'mon, i saw your cock. plus, i had to hear you moan like a whore. i'm getting insane…” jeno stands up angry, covering his dick again.

“oh, right, 'cause you moan like an alpha, huh?” the younger lee also stands up, bringing the camera with him.

“where do you think you're going with this, haechan?” jeno questions, watching his friend walk past him with the camera in hands.

“if you think i'm not enjoying this pretty little thing right here while i can, you're stupid. and you better not to try and jerk off with me. once was enough.” he says, leaving the room and an astonished jeno behind.

poor jeno, little does he know that haechan won't only watch. maybe he can upload some videos too. seeing jaemin's cock was a little price to pay when he was able to see all of you, spread and wet again.

[connorsui]

☆ ■■ Stargazing in Your Eyes■■ ☆

- Sylus x fem! Reader

Synopsis: Sylus finds himself lost in admiration for you during a quiet, intimate moment at home, where the vastness of city lights seems small compared to the beauty he sees in your eyes.

Genre/warnings: pure fluff and comfort, no warning my luv we both die in hearts

The quiet of the evening wrapped around you like a warm blanket, filling the room with a peaceful stillness. Sylus lay comfortably between your thighs, his head resting just below your stomach as you silently read a book. The pages turned softly in your hands, but his attention wasn’t on the story in your lap. No, Sylus was entirely captivated by you.

His eyes drifted over your features, drinking in every curve and line of your face. He loved the way your eyebrows furrowed slightly in concentration, how your lips parted ever so slightly when you came across a particularly interesting passage. But it wasn’t just the obvious perfections that held him—he adored the small things too, the little “imperfections” that made you uniquely, beautifully you. The faint freckle just below your eye, the way your nose crinkled when you stifled a yawn, and the soft shadows beneath your lashes that hinted at late nights spent together.

He marveled at how your skin seemed to glow, warmed by the light of the lamp nearby. Every detail of you was etched into his mind, a constellation of beauty that he could never tire of exploring. When his gaze finally settled on your eyes, he felt as if he were staring into the deepest part of you, as if he could almost see your soul shining back at him. There was a depth there that took his breath away, a quiet strength and kindness that made him fall for you over and over again.

You giggled, breaking the silence and his trance. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

Sylus’s lips curved into a gentle smile as he shifted slightly, propping himself up on his elbows to get a closer look at you. “No… I’m just admiring your beauty.”

His voice was soft, full of quiet reverence and adoration. He spoke as though he were sharing a secret with the stars, as if your beauty was something so profound it could hardly be put into words. The universe might have been infinite, but in that moment, Sylus only had eyes for you. Every part of you—perfections and imperfections alike—was a part of the celestial map he held in his heart, a map that always led him back to you.

Without a word, Sylus reached up and gently pushed the book from your hands, letting it fall softly to the side. His eyes never left yours as he leaned in closer, the air between you charged with an unspoken promise. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing lightly over your cheeks as he closed the distance.

His lips met yours in a kiss that was tender and full of longing, a gentle press that spoke of all the love he felt for you. The softness of your lips against his was everything he had imagined and more, a moment of pure connection that made the world outside seem a distant memory. As he deepened the kiss, the universe might have been vast and mysterious, but in this intimate embrace, Sylus found his entire world contained in the warmth and tenderness of your touch.

When he finally pulled back, he gazed at you with a look of utter adoration. His fingers continued to gently caress your face, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek.

“You’re my favorite part of every day,” he whispered, his voice tender and sincere. “I just needed to remind you of that.”

His words were a soothing balm, and the simple, heartfelt gesture left you both enveloped in a bubble of unspoken affection and warmth.

[sage-nebula]

In my headcanons, during Tails' solo travels he ends up with a pretty cool jacket.

The jacket is made out of canvas, and recycled canvas at that. He picked it up at a thrift store originally. The patches were ones he sewed on himself, with the following explanations:

Atom symbol: Science™. He's a science boy, and the atom is a good representation of that.

Stars: He likes space and different constellations, and the stars are representative of that.

NASA logo: Again, he likes space, space exploration, and engineering. Also while I did draw the logo in my sketchbook, when it came time to color I cheated and just copy-pasted that one in, lol.

Twin tails logo: This is actually the logo that we see on the hangar door of the Mystic Ruins workshop in SA1. There it has some text, but it's unreadable and I couldn't make the text look good on the patch. This is what he uses as the logo for his "company" later on, Mystic Prower Innovations. It's not really a company since he's the sole employee, but it's what he files his patents under.

Biplane: Because he's a pilot, and in honor of the Tornado.

Wrench and screwdriver: He's a mechanic and loves to tinker.

Chaos Emerald: My friend Steph has a headcanon that the cyan Chaos Emerald watched over Tails between the first two og games (hence why Sonic only had six in Sonic 1), but I also felt that, as a Chaos gemstone, it's a good representation of, well, chaos, anarchy . . . those sorts of beliefs Tails was raised with due to Sonic bringing him up.

Recycle: Tails is a huge believer in recycling. I mean, this jacket was thrifted! And in the Scrapnik Island miniseries we see him overjoyed that all of the badnik and machine parts were repurposed on the island. I like to think Tails gets most of his stuff second-hand, he goes to junkyards to find scrap metal and things he can use to repurpose what's already there. His science is devoted to bettering the planet, rather than destroying it, so he recycles whenever and wherever he can.

When he first gets the jacket it's too big for him; the sleeves fall down over his arms, so he rolls them up and buttons them. He normally wears the jacket open, but I couldn't make the drawing look right, so I drew it zipped up. Once he gets his growth spurt (wherein he ends up about a head taller than Sonic) it fits him much better, but it's still a relaxed / somewhat baggy fit, which is what he prefers since he doesn't like constricting clothes.

I have a lot of other details in mind for what Tails looks like as a teen, but this is all I've drawn so far (especially since I'm so bad at drawing lol). I'm very certain about him wearing this jacket pretty much all the time after he picks it up during his solo journeys. That jacket was there with him when he was figuring everything out and growing into his own; it's a comfort item as a result.

[q-h0pefall]

— withsorrowandregret | look at the stars — look how they shine for you and everything you do

— izuku & shoto (withsorrowandregret) | for you i'd bleed myself dry — don't you know i love you so?

— midoriya izuku (roguesenses) | you say i won't be lost forever. and soon i wouldn't feel like i'm haunted — like i'm falling

— izuku & shoto (roguesenses) | came to you with a broken faith. gave me more than a hand to hold. could you take care of a broken soul?

— v. wish (roguesenses) | bring me a dream. make him the cutest that i've ever seen. then tell him that his lonesome nights are over

— v. crack (roguesenses) | his eyes remind me of the green onions in my favorite soba

— ofsavior | today and all of your days i'll wear your pain — heal what i can in your troubled mind

— momo & shoto (ofsavior) | i breathe you in so sweet and powerful — like a wildfire burning up inside my lungs

— luxaeterna | dark was the night. his shape burned a void in my eyes — it was black but so violently bright like the birth of a sun

— eren & levi (luxaeterna) | to be loved means to be consumed. to love means to radiate with inexhaustible light

— v. reincarnation (luxaeterna) | maybe we just found forever at the wrong time and someday time will pull us back together again

[jyoongim]

Can I request and Alastor x reader where she was his wife when they were alive but she ends up in heaven while in her early 20’s due to being murdered on her way home from his radio station one night. She never knew about Alastor’s crimes but she finds out about the extermination at the meeting Charlie has with heaven and sneaks down during the next extermination not knowing if Alastor is still alive or not? Maybe some magic like reader singing No Good Deed from Wicked trying to prevent Alastor from being harmed or killed? Once they find each other I can’t imagine Alastor ever letting her leave again, not even to heaven. Can I request a bit of fluff and maybe NSFW to make up for the time spent apart? Thank you!

Title: Ruined Redemption 

Warnings: 18+! NSFW, angel!wife Reader, fem!reader, reader & Alastor married, mention of past life, mention of death, demon!alastor, fluff, creampie, rough sex, French, Heaven & Hell, am i missing something????

”You sure you dont want me to walk you home cher? I can wrap up right now” Alastor said as you pressed your soft lips to his cheek. You reassured him you would be fine. That you were perfectly capable of getting home without him escorting you.  “No no ill be fine promise. Just dont stay too late hmm? I would love to have my husband in our bed for once when the sun ain’t risin’” you said, glaring at him playfully. 

He chuckled, nodding ”Be careful on your way home cher, it ain’t safe for a doll like yourself to be roamin’ the streets at this time of night” Alastor said as you waved goodbye.

“I love you”

The stars twinkled in the sky as you stared up at them.

You blinked, raising a weak hand up to them.

 Blood.

You were bleeding. 

You had took a shortcut to get home and a man had grabbed you into a dark alleyway.

He tried to take advantage of you but you resisted, angry that you wouldn’t be a easy target he slit your throat so you wouldn’t cry out, leaving you to bleed out onto the cold concrete.

Your wedding ring shined at you. You let out a gurgle,

Alastor…

You use to think that people were lyin’ when they said your life flashed when times of death, but tears welled in your eyes as every memory of you and Alastor came to your mind.

The night you met Alastor was the last one you saw as you heaved your last breath.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

”Did you forget Hell is forever?”

You sat at the council meeting as the princess of Hell tried to reason with Sera. You were saddened that the Angels went down and executed the soul of the damned.

You thought the idea of rehabilitating souls was a good idea. 

You had waited years to see Alastor, but you quickly became concerned when each year he didn’t pass through those pearly gates.

Alastor was in Hell. At least you had hoped. 

You heard that the next extermination was soon and you plotted to descend to Hell to find your lost lover.

Alastor please be okay 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hell wasn’t as bad as you thought. 

You quickly found the hotel the princess hosted and knocked on the door.

”Oh why hello- wait you’re-” Charlie stuttered.

You gave her a smile. You must have looked ridiculous, an Angel at her door and with the extermination approaching.

”D-Do you know Alastor?” You asked, almost pleading that you hoped your lover was at her hotel.

She blinked and nodded, letting you inside.

”I thought your idea was bees knees by the way”you said as she ushered you to sit on a couch.

”W-Why thank you! But…how do you know Alastor?” She asked.

You fiddled with your ring. “Well you see I’m his-”

”Darlin’? ” a voice interrupted you.

You almost broke your neck turning around. You let out a gasp “A-Alastor?”

A tall red demon stood in the archway.

He was dressed in all red, save for the few black accents.

His face dawned shocked, though his smile never faltered. But you saw it was tense.

You stood up and approached him.

Theres no way this was your Alastor…

You subconsciously reached a hand to his face “A-Alastor…is it really you?”

He leaned into your touch, grasping your wrist softly

”Mon cher…”

Your eyes welled with tears and you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him as you buried your face in his chest.

Still in shock, Alastor wrapped his lanky arms around you.

Whiskey and sandalwood. That was the scent that flooded your nose, same scent that always clung to him.

”I t-thought i would never see you again” you cried.

”what are you doing here?” You asked

He smiled “I should be askin you the same thing. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be down here”

You didn’t even realize that an audience had gathered.

”what’s white wings doing down here?”

You eased your grip on him, actually taking him in.

He looked nothing like your Alastor, but you knew it was him.

”Oh baby what could you have done to land yourself in hell?” You asked.

The tall spider gave a laugh “Freaky face there is one of hell’s most powerful Overlords toots”

Alastor glared at him before looking down at you “Its a rather unpleasant story my dear, but I guess I should tell you now”

And tell you he did.

You wouldn’t have thought that your Alastor was the one who had once terrorized your city.

Your husband was…You had married a killer.

”regret marrying me doll?”he asked at your shocked face.

You shook your head “Never” you gave him a smile “But you’re at a hotel that promotes soul redemption?”

He laughed “Just a little investment of mine to pass the time. I have no notion to redeem my soul”

This caused you to panic “B-but the extermination!”

He caressed your cheek “Don’t worry about that, I wont let anything happen”

You huffed, deciding to trust him “Well aren’t you gonna introduce me?” You asked turning to give your full attention to the bunch.

”Why of course! Everyone this pretty doll is my darling wife” he beamed

”WIFE!?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alastor took you on a tour of the hotel. You walked, arms interlocked as he showed you around.

You laughed when he brought you to his radio tower “Just couldn’t let it go huh?” You had said, earning a laugh.

He led you to his bedroom. You marveled at how it suited him. There was a swamp that split up the room.

A true southern man you sighed.

You sat on his bed, taking it all in.

Alastor couldn’t believe that you were here.

He thought that he would never see you again.

He had figured that you were in Heaven after a few decades.

You were his sweet little wife. You were the only good thing in his life.

He absolutely lost his mind when he was told you were killed on your way home.

He should have walked you home.

Your death weighed on him for decades. Even in death.

But here you were.

You hadn’t changed a day. Well the wings and halo were new.

”Mon cher…” He approached you, voice dropping the static and kneeled before you. 

You were real and you were here.

His arms wrapped around your waist as he laid his head on your lap.

Your hands found his hair, massaging his scalp. You tickled at his ears and giggled when they twitched.

”je suis désolé mon amour. je suis tellement désolé que tu aies connu un sort aussi cruel. si j'étais juste rentré à la maison avec toi... je suis vraiment désolé” his heart was pounding as he nuzzled into your stomach.

You smiled at his words. You cupped his cheeks, lifting his face to yours “it wasn’t your fault Al. Things happen. All that matters is that we are together again. ‘Ill defy death itself to be with you," were our vows remember?”

Alastor moved quickly. He gently pushed you onto your back as he climbed over you.

”tell me…tell me our vows again”

He tugged at his bow tie and stripped off his jacket, you retracted your wings as you watched him

”A-Al?” You whispered, suddenly breathless.

”please…tell me our wedding vows”

”From the moment our paths crossed, it was always you.

It was the moment we met that I saw everything. 

Our future.” 

He unbuttoned his dress shirt.

“You were everything i ever dreamed of and became so much more. 

I love you.”

He leaned down to kiss you

“Heaven and Earth cannot compare to how much I love you. 

Through the good and bad, Ill always love you.

 I give my heart and soul to you to cherish for an eternity ”

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he peppered wet kisses along your neck

”Ill reap the Earth to and tear the Heavens apart to remain bound to you”

You gasped as he nipped your shoulder

”This love I give can never die. For Ill defy death itself to forever be with you.”

he buttoned your shirt, brushing a thumb over your nipples. A shiver ran through you.

”For death itself could never part us. 

I am yours forever and always and ill raise Hell if death tried to part us ”

You moaned softly as he took a nipple into his mouth.

“Alastor…”

The rest of your clothing was quickly removed.

You almost wanted to cover yourself.

When was the last time you were intimate with Alastor?

You felt like you were on your wedding night all over again.

”You’re as beautiful as when you were alive my dear”. He whispered, spreading your thighs.

You jumped feeling his hand skim your exposed clit.

You were embarrassed with how wet you were.

he still had that effect on you, even in the afterlife.

Your breath hitched as he dipped a finger inside you

Alastor groaned, you felt just as you did before.

You pulled him to your face, your face flushed and eyes lidded. Your soft lips met his as he worked your cunt.

”Alastor please” you whined against his lips.

You were always such an impatient thing.

But he would never deny you.

He growled ”If I fuck you Ill never let you go. You’ll never see those pearly gates again if you let me have you. So tell me you don’t want this, you don’t want me and Ill stop” he shimmied out of his pant, freeing his cock.

Alastor was lying. Even if you told him to stop and you didn’t want this he would never let you go back to Heaven.

Not when he just got you back.

Your lips met his again, the kiss was filled with longing and passion.

”I never want to be without you again”

He slammed his lips on yours again as he slid his cock into you, swallowing your squeal as you took him.

Fuuuuuuuuuucccccckkkkk

He gave a few soft thrusts to make sure you adjusted well to him.

You panted into the crook of his neck. Nails clawing into his back as he rocked into you.

A cry ripped from your throat as he gained momentum.

”Aahh!”

This was different. So different from when you were alive.

Alastor was always passionate in bed with you, but this…this was so…you couldn’t even describe it.

a word popped into your head.

Divine

The way he fucked you told of how much he had missed you. 

Decades of being apart melting away as he pounded into you.

You locked your ankles behind his waist.

”You always take me so good cher. So so so good” He moaned into your ear.

The sound of skin hitting skin and your soft moans filled the air.

His cock hit that soft sweet spot inside you making you wetter.

”Ill ruin you. Fuck you til you’re drenched in me. Until your very scent is covered in me.” a harsh thrust brought him to be buried to the hilt.

Alastor smirked as your cunt fluttered

”You want that doll? To be ruined? To never see Heaven again? Hmmm you’ll throw away your salivation to be fucked by a demon like me?”

The telltale squelch of your cunt was his answer.

He would be damned if he ever let you out of his sight again.

His pace turned rough, he could feel himself changing.

”Alastor?” You felt him get bigger. His body morphed and when you looked at him, he expected fear.

But you looked in awe as he turned into his demon form.

Antlers big as willow branches, eyes black and glowing red like dials. He was disheveled.

He looked like a wild beast.

And he was fucking you like one.

All you could do was hang onto him. Letting him take you like you would disappear.

”ooh fuck aaahh please please” you cried as he fucked you, rutting into you with so much force you swear the bed was knocking against the wall.

You  felt your thighs tremble from taking his brute thrusts. That familiar tingle forming in your stomach.

were you gonna cum? Could you cum?

guess you’ll find out

Your demon husband was fucking you and you were gonna cum.

on his demon cock…oh heavens…

”Tu vas jouir, chérie ? Tu vas laisser un démon t'arracher ta libération ? Vous voulez que? hmmm? Tu veux jouir sur la bite de ton démon ? laisse-moi l'avoir chérie”

He purred, fucking into you so hard that a slight bulge was present.

He was going to break you. Ruin you.

He unhooked your legs, pushing one to your chest to get a better angle. Hitting those spots that had you seeing stars.

”A-Al! Oooh fu-fuuuck! I-I’m cumming oh my g-”

A large claw hand covered your lips

He snarled “There’s no God here sweetheart. Now. Cum”

Your body seized, feeling like a fire had set off as your organ ripped through you.

Alastor slapped his mouth over yours to eat your cries.

He thrusted into feverishly, seeking to paint your heavenly walls white with his cum as he fucked you through your orgasm.

”that’s a good girl, milking me dry”

He gently cradled your limp head, nipping at your swollen lips “where you want me cher? Cause i got half a mind to soak you in my cum”

You whined “i-inside…please cum inside me Alastor…baby please!”

He grinned “As you wish”

His pace quickened and with a low growl he emptied his cum into your cunt, sighing as he filled you til it spilled around him.

You let out a soft whine as he pulled out, wincing at the emptiness that he left behind, feeling his cum drip down your ass.

Alastor purred like an engine as he took you into his arms, basking in the afterglow as you cuddled into his side.

This is where you belonged.

By his side.

He’ll tear Heaven apart if they tried to take you back.

You were the Radio Demon’s.

Forever and always

@jellibean2018 @thewinchestah @markster666 @3verlark @alastor-simp @alastorsaries @alastwhore666 @horrorartsworld @gojosaturos-wife @ioniiaa @alstorloml @polytheatrix @catherine69420 @catmunist @lbcreations-blog @night-owl-2000

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@sugerrush69 @wedream-wecreate @jazzmasternot @k1y0yo @prosciuttosblog @yourdoorisunlocked

Comment if you want to be tagged!!!

[eroselless]

─────────────── somebody else // 2

series summary: you just work in hospitality for McLaren and he’s their star driver. what happens when your paths cross and you find yourself questioning your feelings for each other? [3.8k]

[lando norris x reader]

masterlist | previously

warnings:  language, suggestive content, drunk almost hookup, slightly possessive lando

note: ehm, I absolutely did not mean for it to get that long, my bad guys. I’m trying to update a little faster and write in bigger chunks. I have a trip coming up soon and I’m not sure I’ll be able to update as fast and regularly as I’d like to. But as always, happy reading!

In the days that follow, you find yourself pulling back even more. You stack your walls up even higher as you try to keep that feeling of uncertainty away. You hyper focused on your work, trying to maintain a professional facade but each day that came and went it became harder than ever. Lando was still there, still kind and attentive but he could tell. Your heart was miles away, under lockdown and under constant supervision. He could see it in your eyes, how they would be distant and vacant at times, a haze coming over them whenever he came around. The easy banter had shifted, replaced by a tension that neither of you would acknowledge but could cut with a knife.

One afternoon, after a particularly busy day at the track, you found yourself alone in the hospitality area once again, cleaning up after the last guests had left. You were lost in your thoughts, replaying the events of the last few days and seeing the same image of Lando’s eyes, pooling with emotion as he watched you under the darkening sky. 

“Still here?” Lando’s voice is light, but there is an edge to it that catches your attention. It pulls you from the neverending cycle in your head. 

You turn to see him leaning against the doorframe, eyes fixed on you. He’s still wearing his race suit, it hangs low on his waist, orange contrasting with the black of his fireproofs. There was an air to him tonight, maybe it was the glossiness of his eyes, the five o'clock shadow beginning to form on his face or maybe something else entirely—it makes your pulse quicken. 

“Just finishing up,” you reply, trying to keep your tone casual.

He walks over to you, gaze never leaving you. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

It wasn’t a question. It lingers in the air, thick with the weight of unspoken emotions. It makes you freeze in your spot, a dirty rag trapped in your fingers. His eyes search you for an answer, one you weren’t ready to give. Your heart pounds in your chest, the tensions building to almost unbearable. 

“I haven’t—” you start, but he cuts you off.

“Yes, you have,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “And I want to know why.”

You swallow hard, searching for the right words. “I haven’t been avoiding you,” you repeat quickly, the lie slipping from your lips before you can fully think it through. You force a smile, trying to keep your voice from shaking. “I’ve just been really busy with work, that’s all.”

He studies you, eyes narrowing slightly as if he could see right through you. “Busy with work?” he echoes, skepticism lacing his tone.

“Yeah,” you nod, looking anywhere but at him. “You know how it is, especially with the season in full swing. There’s always so much to do, and I didn’t want to get distracted.”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything just watching you as you stand there. Distracted. It had been a word you had said to him before, a word he was seemingly starting to hate after hearing you say it a second time. Your heart could burst from your chest as he continues to look at you with a piercing gaze. Your mind scrambles to come up with something—anything-–that would make your excuse believable. But under the weight of his stare, any lie you thought of felt flimsy, crumbling the second you even considered saying it out loud. 

“Right,” He says slowly. You could tell he wasn’t convinced but were grateful when he didn’t press any further nodding at you he spoke again. ​​“I get it. It’s a hectic time for everyone.”

You mimic his actions, trying to keep your expression neutral, even as your stomach twists with guilt. You hated that you were lying to him, hated the way it made your chest feel like it was caving in and most of all hated how the wall you were building up to keepsafe your feelings was now coming between you. But what else could you do? Admitting the truth—admitting your feelings, that you didn’t trust them— felt too risky, too raw. 

Lando sighs softly, running a hand through his damp hair. “I just…missed talking to you, that’s all. You just felt distant, and I didn’t know why.”

Your chest tightens at the shakiness of his voice, the way he sounded, the devastation squeezed at your heart. You wanted so badly to tell him you missed him too, that the distance you had put between the two of you was excruciatingly painful but the words caught in your throat. 

You round the table, moving towards him. You drop the rag onto the table as you get closer. “I’m sorry,” you say, the apology sounds hollow even to your own ears. You reach over his shoulders, pulling him into a hug. It's not the first time you’ve hugged. Well, it's the first time you hugged him. You usually found yourself trapped in his embrace, head pressed briefly against his chest. You ignore how his fireproofs are slightly damp and how he slumps into you. He gives in to your touch, his own heartbeat echoing in his ears.  “It’s okay,” he says quietly. “I just wanted to make sure everything was…you know, okay between us.”

“Of course,” you reply a little too quickly. You ignore the butterflies that bother your stomach, between us. “Everything’s fine, I promise.”

Lando nods, pulling out of your arms. He seemed to accept your words though he knew there was something else going on. There was a small wave of relief wash over you, not asking any more questions. There's guilt swirling in your stomach as he bids you goodbye, leaving you to yourself once again. 

:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

As time passes, your routine settles back into its regular pace. You still find yourself emotionally distant from him, just more aware of your actions. You reassure him sweetly every day that you’re ok, coming up with more excuses. I’m just a little tired, today was super busy. You make sure not to muddle the mood, keeping up a facade whenever you need to. 

A few weekends later, after another high-intensity race, he approaches you with an invitation. “Hey, a few of us are going out later. It’s going to be a bit of a party—want to join?” His eyes are wide, the adrenaline from the race still high in his bloodstream. 

You hesitate for a moment, considering all possibilities. The allure of a night out, the chance to let loose and the opportunity to see Lando in a different setting makes it harder for you to decline. “Sure, I’d love to,” you accept, nerves pouring out again. With a quiet squeal you’ve heard from him before, he bids you goodbye, letting you know that he’ll text you all the information. He quickly presses a kiss to your head, which leaves you reeling, before running out and leaving you to finish. 

You can feel the base of the song in your chest as you step into the club, the heavy beat reverberating through the floor and up into your bones. The lights pulse and swirl around you in shades of blue, purple and red. They cast shadows over the crowd of people moving rhythmically to the music. You find yourself alone, surrounded by strangers, their laughter and chatter blending into the music, creating a vibrant but overwhelming atmosphere. Pushing through the sea of bodies, you navigate your way across the club, your eyes scanning the room for a familiar face. Anxiety prickles at the back of your neck, and you pull out your phone, nervously checking to see if you’ve missed any messages from Lando. But the screen is empty, and you feel a pang of unease. The crowd presses in around you, and for a moment, you’re unsure of where to go or what to do.

Scanning the room over once again, you finally spot him. Lando is standing on a step near the back, surrounded by a group of drivers and their girlfriends. He’s got one arm looped around Max’s neck, the two of them bouncing to the beat of the music, lost in the energy of the moment. The sight of him makes your heart skip. 

Lando spots you almost immediately, his eyes lighting up as he waves you down with his free arm, a grin spreading across his face. Max rolls his eyes good-naturedly at Lando’s enthusiasm, giving him a playful shove as Lando nearly topples over in his haste to reach you.

Before you can react, his arms are around your shoulders, pulling you tight against his chest. The scent of Christian Dior mixed with tequila hits you, a surprisingly intoxicating combination that makes your head spin a little. His navy blue button-up clings to his frame, the top few buttons undone to reveal a hint of his tanned chest. The chains around his neck clink softly against your own as he holds you close, his embrace warm and firm. “I missed you,” he murmurs into your ear, his voice thick with the effects of the alcohol.

You let out a shy giggle, your heart fluttering despite your efforts to keep your emotions in check. “You saw me a couple of hours ago,” you mumble into the fabric of his shirt, the words barely audible over the music.

He shakes his head, pressing his lips closer to your ear. “It hasn’t been soon enough,” he insists, his breath warm against your skin.

The sentiment makes your heart skip, and you have to bite down on your cheek to keep from smiling too widely. The weight of his words, the sincerity in his voice, tugs at something deep inside you. Before you can say anything else, he pulls back slightly, his hand slipping down to take yours.

 “Come on, let’s get you a drink,” Lando says, guiding you through the crowd towards the bar. He insists on covering your drinks for the night, his generosity both endearing and dangerous. The alcohol flows freely, and soon enough, you can feel your earlier resolve melting away. The tension that had been knotting your stomach eases as the alcohol loosens your limbs and your thoughts, making everything feel a little less serious, a little more carefree.

After a few drinks, you find yourself swaying to the music, your body moving instinctively to the beat. Alexandra and Lily are close by, the three of you forming a small circle as you dance together, shouting the lyrics to the songs that blast from the speakers. There’s a joyous energy between you, a shared camaraderie that makes the night feel lighter, more fun. You’d built a rapport with them over the last few races, their curious faces eager to meet the girl that had Lando disappearing before and after every race day. 

A familiar song comes on, and you lock eyes with Alex, both of you squealing in delight. You move behind her, your hands on her hips as the two of you bounce together, laughing and singing at the top of your lungs. The music is loud, the bass heavy, and you lose yourself in the moment, your bodies moving in perfect sync with the rhythm.

Across the room, Lando watches you, his gaze fixed on the way your dress clings to your curves. The orange fabric, vibrant and bold, catches his eye, and a slow smile spreads across his face as he takes notice of the fabric of the dress. Papaya orange. There’s something about seeing you in that particular shade—his color—that makes his chest tighten with a strange sense of pride and possessiveness.

His eyes trail down your body, watching the way you roll your hips in time with the beat, the smooth, sensual movements captivating him. He can’t tear his gaze away, mesmerized by the way you move, so free and confident. The sight of you, so different from the professional, composed version he usually sees, makes his heart race.

Lando finally pushes through the crowd, making his way back to you, his movements slightly unsteady as he navigates through the crowd. When he reaches you, he drunkenly sends Alexandra a nod and a wink, pulling you away from her. His hands find your waist, pulling you close as you continue to sway to the music. His touch is firm, but there’s a gentleness to it that makes your breath catch in your throat.

The ghost of his lips brushing the shell of your ear sends a shiver down your spine. The soft whisper of your name ignites a heat deep in your stomach. His touch is familiar, yet it feels entirely different from anything you’ve experienced before. His chest is pressed against your back, both of you covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and your mind begins to wander to places you’ve been trying to avoid for months. Images of the two of you flash through your mind—intense, unrestrained, his hands gripping your hips as his lips explore every inch of your skin. 

A voice in the back of your head urges you to stop, but the alcohol blurs its edges, and you find yourself leaning further into him. His hands slide up your body, fingers curling over your ribs, a possessive touch that cradles the underside of your breasts, drawing a soft laugh from his lips. He presses his nose to your shoulder, inhaling the scent of your perfume. It’s addictive, intoxicating, driving him wild.

He lowers his head, his lips tracing a slow path over the racing pulse in your neck. He pauses just below your ear, murmuring into your hair, “You know you’re driving me crazy right now, don’t you?”

A hum escapes your lips before you reply, “I had no idea.” The words are tinged with a bitter truth, your usual restraint slipping under the influence of the alcohol. His lips resume their slow, deliberate assault on your throat, even as you continue to sway to the beat. You move your hips in time with the music, grinding into him, and he lets out a low, guttural sound, biting his lip as a wave of heat surges through him.

His hands slide lower, settling on the crease where your legs meet your hips. He tries to guide your movements, pulling you closer, but you push back, teasing him. His head begins to spin, the alcohol, the sweat, the heat, and most of all, you, overwhelming his senses. He presses his forehead against your shoulder, struggling to keep his thoughts in check. 

A breathy gasp escapes you as his fingers dig into your skin. You can feel him stir, the hard press of his arousal against your back. He pushes your hips away slightly, only to pull you back firmly, the back-and-forth sending your head spinning. Whether it’s the thought of him enjoying the teasing closeness, the drinks, or a mix of both, it only fuels the need burning between your legs.

His breath is hot against your skin as he starts to murmur directly into your ear. The noise of the club fades away, the music and the crowd dissolving until only his voice and his body remain. The heat radiating from him seeps into you, making you cling to him as the tension builds.

After a few more songs, the tension reaches a boiling point. Lando’s voice is low and rough as he whispers, “Let’s go somewhere quieter.”

You nod, letting him take your hand as he leads you through the crowd, weaving between the dancing bodies until you reach the hallway leading to the restrooms. The space is dimly lit, the music muffled, creating an intimate atmosphere that only heightens the tension between you. Your heart races as he closes the restroom door behind you, sealing the two of you in a moment that’s been building all night.

The air in the small restroom is thick with tension as he stays by the door for a second. He pants with his back towards you as if he’s thinking it over in a brief moment of soberness. The muffled bass of the club still pulses through the walls but here, it's just the two of you. His eyes are darkened by desire as he scans your face for a sign, a permission to cross this line that you’ve been dancing around for months. 

He steps closer, his body heat enveloping you and you can feel the alcohol fueled courage roll back into him in waves. You’re both silent, the only real sound being the shallow breaths you’re taking as he slowly raises his hand to cup your cheek.

You hold in a breath as his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, eyes following how it softly snaps back before locking onto yours. 

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he whispers, his voice raspy, almost desperate. He presses his forehead to yours, eyes fluttering shut. His breath comes out in pants, mixing with yours. With a small tilt of your head, your lips meet his. One hand comes to wrap delicately around the back of your neck, the other encapsulates your waist, flushing your body to his. The kiss is a release of all the tension that’s been simmering between you, a collision of emotions too long suppressed. It's deep, intimate, charged with so much as his tongue explores the cavern of your mouth. He pushes you up against the sink, trying to get you as close to him as possible, the world outside forgotten. Your hands travel across his chest, fingers tangling in the chains that rest there. 

He drinks you in, sucking the air out of you as he cradles your face. Pulling away, he lowers his head to your exposed shoulder, tugging the thin strap of your dress to your bicep. He kisses the skin tenderly, muttering into your skin something you don't quite catch. You trace your fingers up the side of his face, head rolling to the side as he sucks sharply at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. 

He slots a leg between yours, pulling one of your legs up to wrap around his waist. You’re almost wide open for him as he rolls his hips against you. You let out a weak whimper as the shape of his cock brushes right where you needed him. You buck your hips up, chasing the mouth watering feeling once again. Just as his hands slide over your bum, fingers searching for the seam of your dress, there’s a sharp knock on the door that has you jumping. 

When you don’t move from your spot, there’s another blasted knock on the bathroom door paired with the annoyed call of Max. Lando allows your leg to drop, his forehead resting against yours as he lets out a frustrated groan. The reality of the situation starts to seep back in, and you can’t help but let out a nervous laugh, the absurdity of it all hitting you at once. He sighs, pulling you into a tight hug, as if he’s reluctant to let go just yet.

“We’re coming, geez.” Lando calls out, his voice still tinged with the lingering effects of alcohol. 

When he finally releases you, there’s a look of disappointment mixed with something deeper in his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he takes your hand and leads you back out into the now nearly-empty club. Max gives you both a knowing look, his eyebrows raised, but he doesn’t say a word as Lando signals for another round of drinks.

As the night wears on, Lando continues drinking, and while you’ve switched to water, you stay by his side, watching as his playful demeanor shifts into something more subdued. He’s not the loud, rowdy drunk you’d seen over the last few hours; instead, he becomes quieter, his words slurred but gentle, his touch lingering but not overbearing. In your mind, his sudden change only confirms what you had been hearing in the back of your head all along.

“I don’t want to go home yet,” he mumbles when the night comes to a close. He hangs around your shoulders, head lolling slightly as he turns his head to get a better look at you. “Come with me? Just to hang out?”

You hesitate, knowing you should probably just call it a night, but the soft, almost pleading look in his eyes makes it impossible to say no. “Okay,” you agree quietly. “But just for a bit to make sure you get home in one piece.”

The ride back to his apartment is a blur of neon lights and the quiet hum of the city at night. Lando leans against you in the backseat, his head resting on your shoulder as he mutters something incoherent. He fiddles with your fingers, playing with your rings. It's almost as if he’s trying to commit to memory the way your hands feel in his. It's as if he knows that by morning light, everything will be gone and it'll be like a dream you can't fully remember.

By the time you arrive, he’s half-asleep, and it takes some effort to get him out of the car and up to his apartment. Once inside, you help him to his room, guiding him onto the bed as he flops down with a tired groan. He’s still wearing his clothes, and as you pull his shoes off, he watches you with half-lidded eyes, a lazy smile on his lips.

“You’re so good to me,” he giggles, reaching out to grab your hand. “Stay, please? Just... stay.”

You sigh softly, knowing he won’t remember much of this in the morning, but the tenderness in his voice tugs at your heart. “Alright,” you surrender, sitting on the edge of the bed. “But you need to sleep, okay?”

He nods fervently, already drifting off as he mumbles something about how nice it is to have you here. He continues, his words slurring slightly as he tells you what drawer to reach into for a shirt to sleep in before rolling over to wrap his arms around his pillow. You pull the covers over him, watching as his breathing evens out, his face softening in sleep. You change into an old t-shirt of his and slip into the bed beside him, careful not to get too close. Despite the circumstances, there’s something comforting about being here, about being the one to look after him when he needs it. The sobering voice in your head returns, but you blur it out as it slowly lulls you to sleep.

tags: @sltwins @sarx164 @f1fantasys

[potter-imagines]

Brat (Satoru Gojo x Reader)

Prompt: Satoru and his girlfriend Y/n are in an argument over his celebrity crush on Inoue Waka. Y/n is ignoring Satoru which absolutely drives him crazy.

Pairing: Satoru x reader

Warnings: some swearing, light light light smut (making out), gojo being gojo

Word Count: 7k

Notes: this is set broadly around season 2 episode 2 plot, with some clear changes from the original episode. riko and suguru are included.

“You changed your home screen?” Suguru commented nonchalantly. He took notice of the sudden alteration to his friend’s phone almost immediately. The difference wasn’t hard to spot seeing as the last two years all Satoru had used for his background images were various photos of his girlfriend, Y/n, whom he loved showing off.

Suguru was accustomed to the photos being circulated in a never ending pattern, Y/n and Satoru at the beach, Y/n in a scandalous position she beat him into removing, Y/n sleeping on his chest, Y/n and him sharing sweets, Y/n on her birthday grinning widely as she sat in front of her cake, the couple doing mud masks together, Y/n in front of the eiffel tower, and so on, however it was entirely new for him to see the famous, bikini clad Japanese model as his friend's home screen instead of his girlfriend. Suguru’s brow was raised as Satoru chuckled to himself.

“To Inoue Waka.” Gojo smiled in triumph, like he was in some war that he had finally found the upper hand in. “Y/n and I are in a fight- it’s certain to get a reaction out of her.” 

Despite his explanation, Suguru found himself lost in confusion. Only a night prior to leaving for their mission to protect and deliver the star plasma vessel, Geto had been sitting in attendance as he witnessed the couple's one of many bickering sessions. He really couldn’t blame Y/n much, seeing as he also found himself disagreeing with the white haired prodigy on the regular as well, yet this fight was one hundred percent, without a doubt in his mind, Satoru Gojo’s fault. Being as the argument was his wrong doing, Suguru couldn’t understand why his friend would sink himself deeper in the grave with his strong willed girlfriend rather than admit he messed up. And he certainly couldn’t see how an image of another woman- a model their argument steamed from, in a bikini too tight her boobs were practically over spilling from, would help his case.

The pair seemed to forget where they were until the young voice of the vessel of Tengen-sama herself reminded them of her presence. 

“Listen to me!” Riko shouted, irritation lacing her words. The young girl was set to explode off on the boys like a firecracker for their rude behavior in dismissing her heartfelt declaration on becoming one with Tengen-sama and Tengen-sama one with her, when suddenly the mention of the feminine name caught her attention. “Wait, Y/n?” She questioned. Riko didn’t see another female insight besides Kuroi but she sure hoped there was a sane female mind among the brainless men sitting among her. 

At her words, the man with hair white as snow leaned against the couch and ran a hand along his face. He narrowed his gaze, giving the girl a leer as if he found it ridiculous he had to explain who this Y/n was to her. 

“My strikingly beautiful, insanely stubborn, bratty, gorgeous girlfriend.” He moaned as his head fell back against the sofa, like the explanation was difficult enough. Through his dark rimmed glasses Gojo looked over to Riko, changing the topic all together. “I bet you don’t have many friends if you talk like that.”

“We won’t have to feel bad sending you off.” Suguru muttered. 

“I talk normally at school!” She expressed in an exacerbated tone, then quickly stepped forward pointing an accusing finger in the white haired man’s face. “And it’s you who shouldn’t have any friends! You certainly don’t deserve a girlfriend if you’re calling her a brat behind her back, you should be ashamed of yourself!” She reprimanded. 

Suguru lifted his gaze, intrigued by her final comment. Satoru didn’t actually think of his girlfriend as a brat, but of course Riko didn’t understand how the couple worked and there was no time to explain how Gojo called his girlfriend a brat in an endearing way- unlike his usage for it towards her. When Gojo used it towards Riko, he meant it. If they had the time, Geto might even explain how Y/n commonly refers to her boyfriend as a ‘trust fund baby’ or ‘a prick’, both of which are factual, yet it’s out of love between the two. 

Satoru ignored her quip, finding her opinion on his relationship totally useless. He knew his love for Y/n was larger than his will to live, yet he saw no point in expressing that to this girl. Riko didn’t know one thing about his relationship with Y/n so why did he care what the girl thought? Sure, he probably did sound like a complete jerk, however he couldn’t care less if the star plasma vessel before him found him to be a bad person for what she was hearing. 

Suguru glanced at Satoru, curious to see if the sorcerer was going to give a reaction however the six eye holder simply scrolled away on his phone, searching for the perfect image of his celebrity model crush to use as his lock screen. 

“School…” She mumbled out. “Kuroi, what time is it?!”

Satoru, Suguru, and Kuroi all sat scattered around the abandoned outdoor pool of Renchoku Girls' Junior High, all thinking of different things. Kuroi found herself reflecting on the time she spent practically raising the young girl who would soon be sacrificing herself as a vessel. Suguru’s mind wandered to how they were going to keep Riko safe until making it to Jujutsu High. All Satoru could think about was why his girlfriend wouldn’t answer his calls. Dangling his shoes above the water, Satoru kicked at the murky water in vex as yet another call went unanswered. 

“Huh?! She keeps sending me straight to voicemail- Suguru, let me borrow your phone!” Satoru failed to turn around as he extended his arm behind himself, impatiently awaiting Geto’s cellphone.

Begrudgingly Suguru dug his phone out from his side pocket and handed the cell phone over to his hysterical friend. He had already seen this play out a million times before and was positive the outcome would be no different; Gojo does something easily avoidable and pisses Y/n off, they get into an argument because it physically pains Gojo to admit his wrong doings, Y/n ignores him, he pretends he’s fine and acts as if he enjoys the distance created, that lasts for a few hours at most, then Gojo acts like a crazed person trying to get his girlfriend to respond while she is clearly still upset. 

Miles away in Tokyo, Y/n saw the face of her good friend Suguru pop up on her screen. Her brain screamed it was just her idiot boyfriend trying to convince her to speak to him. Maybe it really was Suguru calling to inform her of their mission. Hesitantly, Y/n accepted the call and lifted the phone to her ear.

“Hi, pretty girl- uh?! She hung up on me!” Gojo shrieked as the line went dead on the other end. He pulled the phone away from his ear and stared the the screen in disbelief, almost as if the mobile device had zapped him like an electrical shock. His mouth hung wide, a look of absolute astonishment polarizing his features. A few moments of staring at the blank screen passed by, Gojo awaiting a returning call from his love to declare it was all some prank, yet nothing came. Suguru outstretched his hand towards his friend,

“Satoru, can I have my phone back?”

The blue eyed man gave an over exaggerated groan then carelessly tossed the cellular device back to its rightful owner. 

“Fine. Ugh! Can’t believe how dramatic she’s being! Just wait until I get back to Jujutsu High and don’t share any of my mochi with her. She’s going to have to wait at least a week until I give her that necklace I bought.” He huffed like a child. Resting his chin in the palm of his hand, Satoru gazed out at the pool. From behind he could hear a chuckle from his friend, causing him to turn his head. As expected, Suguru was chuckling to himself at his expense. Squinting his eyes, Satoru sent a scowl, unimpressed at Suguru’s amusement over his situation. 

“Well, you did go on an entire rant to her about how hot Inoue Waka is, how she’s your dream girl, then you told Y/n you’re only dating her because Inoue Waka hasn’t returned any of your fanmail-”

“That was a joke.” Satoru dismissed his argument, shaking his head, still playing a blind eye to his wrong doings.  

“And you said Y/n is lucky to be dating you… so, one might call her response reasonable.” Sure, Suguru was Satoru’s friend first, but he was also Y/n’s friend and he had no issue telling Satoru the truth when he was in the wrong, like he was now.  “Not to mention the new background which is sure to warm her heart.” Suguru pointed out. Gojo preferred to convince himself that his partner was wrong, although the nagging voice in the back of his head claimed otherwise. An abrupt quip from Geto on two of his cursed spirits no longer roaming around Riko sent all three sprinting to find her location, and still, even while the choir girls and sensei fawned over him, Gojo could not stop replaying his earlier fight with Y/n, wondering what he could do to get a response from her. 

Satoru and Riko were currently running from the chapel on her school grounds- well, Satoru was running while he had the young school girl hoisted by the back of her uniform. An unexpected attack had caused a bump in the road and now Gojo had to protect the girl on his own until he could find Suguru, not that the task would be difficult by any means, Satoru simply had his mind elsewhere. Speaking of elsewhere, his cell phone started ringing from his side pocket, and before he could reach for the mobile device, the young girl plucked it out in one motion. Satoru went to steal his phone back when she raised the phone to her ear and, as if it belonged to her, answered the call meant for Satoru. 

“Eh? Give that here-” Gojo reached his hand to snatch his phone back from Riko, yet instead she pulled the device right to her ear and began rambling. If she wasn't on the mission Satoru was certain he’d have dropped her off the building right then and there, but he had no time to make another effort to yank the phone as he needed to reach higher ground. It wasn’t until Gojo heard the sound of his girlfriend’s voice that his heart dropped straight to his ass. ‘Oh no’, he thought. 

“Is this Y/n?” The girl eagerly asked. A far off voice replied, making Gojo reach out once more to snatch his phone back, only for the vessel to jerk her head away from his grasp. He knew there was no time to stop, he had to get to higher ground and then he could steal his phone back and make things right with his girlfriend- he just hoped Riko and her big mouth wouldn’t taint that chance for him. 

Before he could try to reason with the girl and convince her not to say anything more, Riko began rambling and there was nothing he could do to stop her. Gojo could sense another curse user in their perimeter and knew it was essential for his focus to remain on keeping the vessel safe, even if she was a pain in his ass. 

“My name is Riko- yes, I am! Listen, your boyfriend is a total selfish, inconsiderate, self obsessed jerk! He barged into my choir class all high and mighty and bathed in the attention as the girls swarmed him- he even took his stupid little glasses off for them to all swoon over his eyes! He was totally leaning into their lust for him! My sensei even gave him her phone number-”

“Ah! Hey! Give me my phone back- are you trying to get me murdered?!” Nope, ah uh, not happening, Gojo thought as he tore his cellphone away from her hands. Riko turned to look at him, but the mix of fear and absolute terror on his face kept her words at bay. He sent the girl a cold glare, electric blue eyes narrowed in frustration. “My girlfriend is-”

The abrupt sound of his beloved girlfriend screaming at him sent Satoru back to reality as he glanced at the phone screen, then resentfully lifted the mobile to his ear.

“Hi, princess- why’re you yelling?! I don’t know what this crazy girl is talking about-”

Even Riko was experiencing a small twang of regret as the manic shouting on the opposite end of the line seemed to worsen with every passing second. As far as only knowing the cocky sorcerer for less than a full day, this change in posterior surprised her. Riko was taken aback to see him practically cowering at the words the girl seemed to be seething. All day he had been ranting and raving about how powerful he was- clearly the conceited type, yet here he was nearly shaking like a leaf as his girlfriend scolds him. Riko wonders for a brief moment if she should’ve minded her own business.

A minute more of screaming and cursing passed until Satoru seemed to find his voice, or rather thought of a viable excuse, and nervously cut the girl off. 

“I’ve got to go, a curse user attacked! See you later, my love!” He hurriedly smacked his finger against the red button on the bottom of the phone, desperate to end the call as quickly as humanly possible. Riko stared up at him as she dangled above the ground, and as their eyes met, Gojo rolled his, displaying his anger towards the girl as broad as daylight. 

Gojo scoffed down at the girl as he continued to hoist her above the earth by the back of her shirt, carrying her as if she was a briefcase, or bag of groceries, though certainly not as one should hold a human. Riko huffed, folding her arms across her chest, but Gojo paid no mind to her emotions, too upset with her actions and interjecting herself in his personal relationship. Jumping to the building to their right, a childlike huff heaved from his chest. 

“Jeez, you’re really a handful, brat. Now I’ve got more of a mess waiting at Jujutsu High for me.”

After the pair met up with Suguru and Kuroi, the four were beyond ready to be inside the safety barrier of Jujutsu High and left at once. After arriving at the school, the sun had long since fallen and the sky was teetering between a navy and black shade. Suguru gave his partner a curt nod, gesturing his head towards the dorm rooms, insisting he could handle escorting Riko into the tombs of the star corridor. Satoru sent his friend a grateful smile, bid the vessel and her guardian a farewell, then took off for the dorms. A small, minute, fraction of him was going to miss the kid, but she agreed to her destiny and up until now, seemed relatively pleased with her choice. Satoru jogged up the steps of the dormitory until he finally reached the fourth floor, the floor only occupied by female students. It wasn’t hard to locate Y/n’s room as he had snuck in past curfew more times than he could count, he reached her door with ease. 

His knuckles tapped against the wooden door, allowing less than a fair second to pass before he jimmied the handle. Usually a locked door would be a sign to walk away and try again in the morning, but Satoru only saw it as a slight hiccup. Pulling a credit card from his back pocket, Satoru slid the heavy black card through the slit between the frame and the door itself, shimming the card down to the lock while simultaneously twisting the knob back and forth. He gave the handle one quick turn to the left and abruptly the door swung open causing him to stumble less than graciously into the dimly lit room. 

Creeping in, Gojo carefully shut the door behind him and fully stepped into the dorm. The pink clock on her desk flashed half past midnight, but he knew his night owl of a girlfriend was sure to be awake, despite the eerie silence in the room. Tiptoeing his way towards the bed in the corner, Gojo let out a whisper, 

“Princess, I’m home! Are you awake?”

He sat himself on the edge of the mattress, placing the large shopping bag by his feet as he cautiously examined the heap hidden under a pile of blankets. Running his hand up and down the smooth fleece, Satoru could feel someone shifting around underneath. He leaned his head down, bending his body at an awkward angel, to rest it on top of what he assumed to be her side- that was until an elbow pulled back from under and collided sharply with his temple. 

A pained yelp sounded as he jumped back in surprise and fell to the floor causing a ‘thud’ to sound out. The figure on the bed threw the covers off her head as her fiery leer met Gojo’s stunned expression. 

“No.” She sneered. Though this did not deter the boy as he had previously prepared himself for an attitude filled reunion- especially due to how their last conversation had ended. Propping himself up to his feet once more, Satoru was determined to try again. 

“I brought you presents- look!” He rustled through the paper bag and yanked out four neatly wrapped parcels, and smiled while shoving his outstretched arms towards the glaring girl. However she refused to move, and instead continued murdering the sorcerer with her deathly scowl instead. Gojo let out a dramatic sigh, gesturing to the boxes in his arms once more. “C’mon, pretty girl, you gotta open the gifts-”

“Why don’t you go give it to those choir school girls- or what about their instructor-” A taunting laugh fell from her pink lips. “Better yet, send it to Inoue Waka and see if she finally responds to your love letters!” 

“Oh, c’mon, pumpkin! Are you really still upset about that?” Gojo whined. Here he was, bearing gifts in hand, and she was still angry about something that happened so, so long ago? Gojo ran his calloused hand across his face. 

“Still upset? It just happened today!” 

“If it’s any consolation, those school girls weren’t even in high school so they were way too young for me anyhow.” And none of them compared to you, he wanted to add. Y/n tossed from her position in the bed so her face was now peeking out between covers as her eyes flared. If the situation wasn’t so serious, Gojo would reach out to pinch at the cute chub of her cheek and comment on how adorable she appeared, yet he knew better than to try to weasel his way out of this one. 

“Ah, so you were flirting with a bunch of children and a cougar? Sounds a lot better that way, Satoru.” She shot back, sass soaking her words. Her rebuttal had Gojo rethinking his words. The issue with dating a woman like Y/n was she was far more intelligent then himself and simply didn’t fall for his handsome looks and boyish charm, which Gojo relied on when it came to the opposite sex. Not that this was a bad thing, so to say, it was actually one of the thousands of reasons why he loved her so much- she wasn’t shallow minded and saw him far beyond his outward appearance. Setting the presents on her freshly organized desk, Satoru ran a hand through his hair and awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Technically, it wasn’t flirting in the sense you’re thinking of, I had to distract the class with my charm and good looks so I could sneak Master Tengen’s vessel out of class- I wasn’t lying about us being under attack by another curse user, that was true!”

“What about her number, huh?” Y/n scoffed. 

“She offered it, but I never accepted it.” Luckily he was telling the truth and Y/n believed him. Despite trusting his confession, she didn’t do anything more. 

A silence greeted the couple, neither certain of what to say next. Y/n lifted the blankets from her lap and stood from her bed in front of her boyfriend. Sure the gesture was small, but Satoru took her willingness to step closer to his frame as a good thing as his arms reached out to pull her body against his in a bone crushing hug. His forehead pressed against her shoulder while he kissed the spot. Y/n thought about pulling away for a second, she thought about making him work harder to gain her forgiveness, but his arms felt far too comforting around her body for her to shake him off. With his head buried in her shoulder, Gojo glanced up to Y/n, a softness in his eyes as he spoke,

“Do you forgive me, pretty girl? I’m sorry I made you upset… I don’t like it when you’re mad at me.” 

When she didn’t answer right away, Gojo lifted his head from her so he could properly look her in the eyes. He could visibly see the clouds of anger clearing as she quietly stared back at him. His hand then moved to wrap around the side of her face, his gentleness causing her to melt against his palm. She desperately wanted to smack his hand away, curse him then send him off to his room for the night, but she couldn’t. His touch sparked a series of shivers through her body which only made her long for him to pull her closer. 

A grin broke across his features as he accepted her lack of resistance as approval for his apology and began to move closer towards her face. If she slapped him away, then he’d know he misread the signs, but she didn’t. Their faces were so close in distance Y/n could smell the welcoming scent of peppermint swirling from his parted lips. These were the times she found herself grateful for his sweet tooth, it usually made for sweeter kisses. Wordlessly, Y/n pushed herself to close the distance and pressed her lips to connect to his. Gojo hums as he dips his head lower to gain advantage as he deepens the exchange. 

His mouth is warm against hers, inviting, as he kisses her. She can feel his tongue as it slips inside her mouth, almost like it was entering its second home, seeing as easily as it made itself comfortable and friendly against her own. Her fingers gripped at his white strands, pulling his face closer. All the frustration, all the emotions she had been experiencing towards him for the last day melted into the kiss. Satoru had one hand wrapped around her waist, holding her middle against his hips and his other swooped up around her lifted arm, leaving his hand to rest on the back of her neck, not letting her pull away even if she wanted to. 

Y/n could taste the strawberry chapstick on his lips, the same chapstick he had stolen from her only a week prior. He wasn’t lying, the taste was addictive. Gojo’s lips captured her bottom in a heated move, sucking on the skin with the slightest hint of friction as his teeth light delved into the plumpness. She had no time to muffle the moan passing through her, to which he smirked at the sound. 

A sense of shame washed over her once she realized he had won the silent battle. Instead, Y/n yanked at his hair from the root and pulled his lips back against hers, kissing him with such force he nearly stumbled back a footing. Gojo’s eyes widened in the middle of the kiss, surprised at her boldness and the way her tongue was invading his mouth. He could feel the material of his uniform growing tighter as his jeans constricted against his crotch. Y/n sucked on the silky smoothness of his tongue, small smacks sounding as she dominated the heated makeout. 

A shudder danced down his spine at the feeling of her hand pressed against his groin, his hips subconsciously grinding against her palm. Rubbing her hand along the zipper Y/n toyed with the cool metal, silently teasing her boyfriend as a means of revenge for his actions. Just as she began pulling the slider down, her lips pulled away from him at once, much to Satoru’s disappointment. His mouth hung low as a small whine sounded.

Y/n simply ignored his childish ways, and reached for the bottom of her shirt, causing him to smile once more. Peeling the shirt that belonged to him off her body, Y/n threw it to the floor then fell back against her mattress, motioning Gojo over with the flick of her wrist. Satoru stalked towards her on the bed, almost like a predator sneaking up on it’s prey. His eyes held a look of hunger she rarely saw but bathed in the heat searing from it.

Climbing over her body, Satoru placed himself so he was looming above her, his zipper hanging half undone. Y/n tilted her head, pretending not to understand the look on his face. Gojo shook his head then leaned his face so his lips could skim against her exposed neck. He let his mouth trail up the side of her skin, hot breath fanning over her coolness. His hands lifted to grope at the covering of her bra, giving the material a tug. He came to a stop once his mouth was pressed against the shell of her ear, his voice sending a wave of pleasure straight to her core, 

“I love it when my princess is being a little brat… think I need to put you back in your place.”

Without warning his lips attached to her neck and harshly began to suck at the skin, surely leaving a trail of blotchy red marks. Y/n’s whole body hitched at the overwhelming rush of excitement, her hips lifting only to be shoved back into the mattress by his own which hovered barely an inch above. 

She let her head fall to the side, allowing Satoru more access to her neck, her eyes hardly opened as she basked in the tingling his mouth brought. Hands traveled up and down his back, nails lightly scratching against him as her body wormed from his lips making love to her skin. Y/n nearly closed her eyes all together, she nearly allowed herself to get lost in his kiss, that was until a distant ‘ding’ caught her attention and the phone beside her head lit up. 

A text notification from Suguru popped up on Satoru’s phone, but that wasn’t what caught Y/n’s attention, no, her fixation settled in on the nearly naked photo of the famous model Inoue Waka. The same Inoue Waka that sparked the original fight between the couple, the same Inoue Waka Satoru called hot, the one he declared his dream girl, and same Inoue Waka Satoru said he’d be dating if she’d give him a chance- Y/n was fuming in rage. Pushing both hands on his chest, Y/n physically shoved Satoru off her body causing him to tumble off the side of the bed. His hands flailed out in an attempt to grab for stability, although failed as he rolled to the wood floor, his back smacking against the ground. Gojo laid still on the floor, his mind still trying to process the whole event as he rubbed at the ache on the back of his head. Sitting up straight she reached out for his phone and held it in his face as she screamed,

“Are you fucking kidding me, Satoru?! You put Inoue Waka as your background?!”

“Hehe… that was meant to be a joke…” The fear in his voice transcribed in shaky words as Y/n chucked the phone at him, barely missing his face as he lunged to the side. She snatched his shirt off the ground and threw it back on, covering her chest as Gojo scrambled to grab his cellphone. 

“Fine, I’ve got an even funnier joke for you,” A taunting smile full of hidden anger laced her lips as her finger jutted towards her door. “Get out!” 

His face fell all at once, a deep pout tattooed on his lips. Maybe he should’ve listened to Suguru earlier when he insisted this was a bad idea- if he’d had listened to Suguru, the two would probably be tangled in her bed sheets by now, but no, Gojo had to press her buttons even further. Opening his phone, Satoru clicked on the most recent image of Y/n and faster than the speed of light, set the photo to his new lock and home screen. 

“Aw, c’mon! I’ll change it right now- see! Look, pumpkin, it’s a picture of my favorite girl-” Gojo flipped his phone around, allowing the bright screen to illuminate Y/n’s face. She glanced up, and Satoru watched in utter confusion as her expression went from upset to lividly irate. His heartbeat multiplied in rate, obviously terrified of the disturbing reaction she held to seeing her face on his phone, or what he thought was her face. 

“You fucking asshole.” She growled. If this was his idea of a practical joke, Y/n was ready to make him single. Gojo’s eyes grew like a mass, quickly turning his phone back only to see what caused such a profuse reaction. The image hadn’t changed and was the same exact photo as previously of Inoue Waka propped up on her knees sitting in the sand as her breasts nearly poured out of her excuse of a bikini.

“Shit! I promise I thought I hit save- just give me a second, I’m panicking!” He screeched. His fingers moved at the speed of light as Satoru helplessly tried to set his girlfriend’s smiling face as his background, hoping to at least save some ground between the couple. What he failed to notice in his alarmed state was Y/n reaching out for her phone, scrolling through her photo album and setting a new image on hers. 

“No, no, it’s fine, Gojo, really. I’ll just change my background to a picture of my favorite guy.” The smile she wore was not one of love, no it held more malice, evilness like she had just completed a plot to end the world. Satoru’s head nudged to the side, his eyebrows pulled together in a line of skepticism. 

“I’m already your background, princess…” He mumbled. Clarity was granted as the girl tossed her cellphone, to which he caught with ease. Clicking the power button, Gojo gave a dramatized gasp.

“Is… is that Suguru?! How’d you get this picture? Did he send this to you? Oh my god I’m going to kill him-” 

“I think he looks cute.” Y/n smirked. Obviously it was all a ruse to get back at him for his immaturity, but she couldn’t help the sense of pride creeping up at the over the top reaction from Gojo. The photo itself came from a night out the couple shared, one with their usual third wheel, Geto. Four shots in and five mixed drinks, Suguru was having quite the time, which led to a gallery full of images that he insisted the three took together- and if Gojo would look a little closer, he’d notice the small wisps of pure white hair sticking out from the edge of the cropped image, but Y/n didn’t need to tell him that, it was far more amusing to see him frantic. 

Large blue eyes pleaded up at her as Gojo kneeled in front of the bed, his hands folded like prayer.

“Princess, please put my picture back! I changed mine back to you- please!”

Her finger tapped against the blush to her cheek, pretending to be lost in thought. This was pure torture as Gojo continued to beg at her feet. 

“Hm. I’m not sure- I do have a picture of that adorable first year Haibara in there somewhere…” No, absolutely not, that was Satoru’s last straw. No way in hell would his beautiful girlfriend have a photo of that first year sorcerer always obsessed with impressing Suguru as her background- never ever! Gojo was already annoyed their peer favored his best friend over himself, but having his own girlfriend joke about giving them attention, fuck no.  Holding her phone above his head and out of her teasing reach, Satoru screeched, 

“Ah! You’re going to replace me with a first year?! What?!”

Folding her arms in a crossed fashion against her chest, Y/n gave the hysterical teen a ‘told you so’ glare. 

“Now you know how I felt.” She said matter-of-factly. 

Satoru had to physically bite his tongue to keep the word ‘brat’ from tumbling past his lips. Yes, he used the term as one of endearment, but that was when the two were in their usual jovial mood- now was not the time and now. Gojo understood what she was hinting at, he got the message she was referring to their earlier argument and the various comments he had made towards the famous model, but that didn’t mean he agreed with her. In his mind, there was a clear difference between joking about having a crush on someone in the public eye and joking about having a crush on a fellow classmate. 

“Well at least my background was a celebrity that I have no real chance with. If you asked that first year out he’d probably say yes on the spot then pass out- and Suguru would say yes just to spite me!” His voice was teetering a cry as he threw his head against the bed. 

“I would never actually ask them out, Satoru. In case you haven’t noticed, I love you. Why do you think I was so upset about all those things you said before you and Suguru left? You basically admitted I’m not your dream girl but some famous, perfectly perfect model, who I look nothing like, is. Then you went on about how lucky I should feel being with you, as if I’m not already insecure about our relationship.” Gojo’s heart sunk at her words, regret filling his insides. “It hurt my feelings, Satoru.”

“I’m sorry, princess… I really am. I never meant to hurt you, I guess I thought I was being funny but… it’s really not true.” For the first time in maybe ever, Satoru’s tone sounded different. His voice no longer held that casual cockiness and confidence it usually oozed, no, he sounded timid… possibly the most serious he’s ever sounded in his life. The man who played life like it was the board game itself now stood before the woman he loved looking scared. Y/n’s face scrunched in question, slightly taken aback by the sincerity he expressed. 

“What’s not true?”

“What I said about Inoue Waka, she’s not my dream girl, you are.” Satoru stated. He needed Y/n to see the truth to his words, to believe she was the only girl for him, because she was. As fun as it was to tease his girlfriend, it was only amusing when she was in on the joke. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her. Satoru could see now how truly uncomfortable she was with his comments and it made him feel like a piece of shit knowing he planted a seed of insecurity in her mind. 

It was almost as if Gojo could see the shield Y/n placed around herself, around her heart. She was a hard one to crack, but getting to be the soul she finally let inside meant the entire word to Satoru and he had no intention of breaking that trust ever again. 

“And I’m the one who’s so fucking lucky to get to call you mine. You’re everything I could ever ask for in a girlfriend and more. You put up with me and you’re the only person who ever laughs at my jokes- and you know all my favorite snacks and treats… you even know all the things I’m scared of, which losing you is at the top of my list. I’m sorry that I ever made you doubt us, or made you feel insecure… I really am sorry, Y/n.”

The room turned quiet as Gojo’s confession hung in the air. Y/n didn’t speak, she wouldn’t even move. Instead, her eyes planted on the blanket in her lap, mindlessly losing herself in the pattern while her mind raced, replaying his words over and over again. Gojo examined her odd behavior, part of him perplexed at her lack of response. Y/n had a response for everything, for every situation. For the first time in their two year relationship Gojo was witnessing her in a speechless state, and for as much as he joked about her bratness and stubborn ways, he hated not hearing her voice. A minute passed until Satoru decided he had enough of missing her sound. As he opened his mouth, about to ask if she was okay, a shout sounded from her throat. 

“Ugh! I hate when you do that!” Y/n cried out. There was a thin row of salty tears teetering her waterline. Dread filled Gojo at the sight. He never meant to make her cry. Standing to his feet Satoru sat himself next to her on the bed, his hands reaching out to grasp her own in trepidation. His thumb drew anxious circles across her skin, a method he’d learned that usual calmed her down, yet her tears steadily fell. 

“W-What? Do what?” He asked in a wavering voice. With her free hand, Y/n harshly rubbed at her eyes, wiping the tears that continued to roll down her reddening cheeks. A few splashed against his hand that clutched hers, but he didn’t care. A scarlet ring formed around her e/c eyes as she glanced up to Satoru, a mix of agitation and sadness filling her. 

“When you’re all sweet and say things that make my insides feel like they’re all mushy and- ugh, I hate how much I love you. It’s so annoying!” She cried out. 

A wave of solace splash his bay at her words, along with the returning embrace as her hand squeezed his. He let out a sigh of relief, grateful his words had caused good tears this time. Bringing her hand up to his face, Gojo danced a trail of kisses along her knuckles and smiled. Still holding her hand, Satoru lightly urged the girl to lay back on the mattress and he climbed in next to her. Her head rested softly against the pillow, Gojo’s arm encircling her waist as he turned her body to face his. Once he could see her beautiful face, he let his hand wrap under her chin with a feather light grip. 

“I happen to love how much you love me, pretty girl.” 

His lips pressed a sweet kiss to her temple, then placed another to her forehead, then lastly a chaste and loving kiss to her lips. Y/n nuzzled her head against his touch, the shakiness to her breathing beginning to slow. Gojo removed his hand from her chin as he felt her wiggling closer until her head was laid up on his chest. The sound of his heart beat echoed in her ear and she cuddled into his warmth. A comfortable blanket of peace took control of the room as the couple enjoyed the feeling of holding one another. Satoru’s hand ran up and down her back in an act of comfort. His touch always made her feel more at ease. The moment of tranquility lasted a good portion until Y/n briefly pulled herself away from Gojo, an unfamiliar gleam to her gaze. Satoru tilted his head, unfamiliar to the unusual look, when Y/n lifted her hand to stroke the side of his cheek, as she spoke in a mask of sweetness,

“I swear Satoru, if you ever set Inoue Waka as your homescreen again, I’ll murder you then chop your body up and dump it in the ocean.” One might expect a rational response to such a threat would be fear, not Satoru Gojo. A cheesy grin broke out as his hold tightened around her body, pulling her closer to him.

“I know you will, princess, and that’s why I love you… even if you are a brat at times.”

Her hand smacked against her arm, faking a pout while snuggling further in. 

“Shut up, you love me because I’m a brat.” She remarked. They both knew it was true. Satoru could feign annoyance over her attitude, he could pretend she was too ‘difficult’ for him, but in all honesty, bratty was exactly the way Satoru loved her. 

“You know me too well.”

[punkshort]

Roll Call 2

a Roommates one-shot

Pairing: pornstar!joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel convinces you to watch one of the videos he's starred in and you like it more than you expected.

Warnings: reader and Joel watching porn, smut (18+ MDNI - I don't know what came over me but it's surprisingly soft), language, dirty talk, infidelity, unprotected piv sex, creampie, alcohol consumption

WC: 2.9K

A/N: this was inspired by these asks and is not considered canon, it's just for fun

"It really ain't as bad as you think," Joel teased, watching with glassy eyes as you tossed back a shot with a wince. You swiped the back of your hand across your mouth and shook your head.

"It's porn, Joel. It's pretty black and white."

"See, that's where you're wrong. You must be watchin' some low budget shit if that's your impression," he said over his shoulder as he lead you back to your table through the crowd of people hovering around the bar.

"What're you saying? Your porn is better somehow?"

"Yeah, that's exactly what I'm sayin'," he said with a grin before sliding into the booth. You plopped down across from him and greedily took a sip from your water. "My stuff's produced by people who actually give a shit about quality and storylines."

"Uh huh," you said with a giggle. The two of you were waiting for Tommy to get off work but the bar was busier than expected that particular evening and you had been stuck for almost two hours with nothing to do but drink and kill time.

"You don't believe me? Lemme show you," he said, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. Your eyes widened and you began to sober up.

"N-no, Joel, I believe you."

"C'mon, it's no big deal. We've slept together, for fuckssake, it ain't nothin' you haven't already seen," he said, eyes pinned to his phone as he scrolled on some website that had a suspicious amount of ads and pop ups. His eyes lit up when he found what he was looking for and fished his AirPods out of his other pocket, handing you one and shoving the other in his ear. You held it in your fingers, your mind reeling. You've never seen Joel's porn before, but Maria had, and she told you it was hot at the time but you'd never felt the urge to look it up for yourself.

Joel finally picked up on your hesitation and paused. "If you really don't wanna, it's fine."

You chewed your lower lip as you thought about it. You couldn't deny you were curious and you didn't have to watch the entire thing if it made you uncomfortable, so you took a deep breath and popped the earbud in. "Play it."

He grinned and glanced around. "Come over on this side, don't want anyone walkin' by to see."

You rolled your eyes, finding it laughable that he would even give a shit, but did as he asked and settled in next to him.

"Roll Call 2? Will I be lost if I didn't see Roll Call 1?"

Joel snorted and shook his head. "Shut the hell up."

He pressed play and you watched as the black screen faded to a classroom where Joel sat hunched over behind a desk looking busy as he scribbled on some papers. He wore thick rimmed glasses and a white button down shirt with a navy blue tie. You laughed and poked him in the shoulder.

"Maybe you're right. This is the most professional I've ever seen you dress."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered.

A door squeaked open and he looked up to find a young looking brunette enter the room with a stack of books pressed against her chest.

"Excuse me, Mr. Ryder, do you have a minute?"

"Ryder?!" you cackled, "are you fucking serious?"

Joel grinned but kept his eyes on the phone. "Yeah, alright, that was less than subtle, but the rest is good, keep watchin'."

"Tiffany? What can I help you with?"

You hid your grin behind your fist and kept watching.

"Can I talk to you about this test? I-I really can't fail this class or else I won't graduate."

"Tiffany" set her books down on the corner of his desk and pulled out a paper, putting it down in front of Joel and leaning over. Her own button down shirt only had three buttons fastened, at best, so when she bent forward, her tits practically spilled out of her shirt.

"Mhm, I noticed your grades have been slippin'. Maybe you could do some extra credit to help boost your grade?"

"Really? You'd let me do that?"

Joel's hand gently brushed up against the back of her thigh, his gaze dropping to take in her plaid mini skirt.

"'Course I would, s'long as you do somethin' for me."

"Joel, this is so corny," you said as you were about to pull out the earbud. He stopped you and scooted closer.

"It ain't 'bout bein' corny or not, it's 'bout the production and the set and how the actors are treated. When you have good people 'round you, it comes through on the screen and the performance is better."

You sighed and continued to watch as his hand snuck up the back of her skirt. Tiffany gasped and pressed her hips into the desk then looked down at Joel, who was gazing up at her like she was the only woman in the world.

"I don't know, Mr. Ryder..."

"Why not, darlin'?"

"W-what if someone finds out?"

"No one'll know," he assured her before taking her hand and placing it over his lap. She moaned softly and bit her lip before sinking to her knees and undoing his belt. He groaned and leaned back in his chair, watching her with a pleased smirk.

"Yeah, that's it," he whispered when she took him in her mouth. Suddenly you remembered you were in the middle of a bar watching porn with your ex and you yanked the earbud out.

"Okay, I think I get the idea."

Joel chuckled. "Fine, I don't wanna make you uncomfortable," he said, setting his phone down so he could take a sip from his glass, but the video still played. You couldn't hear the audio anymore but you saw his head tip back and his eyes squeeze shut in pleasure. You wondered what kind of noises he was making, knowing he was the type to be more vocal during sex, an attribute you always appreciated. You tried to look away, focusing your attention on the people around you, but your eyes kept finding his phone. On the screen, Joel pulled Tiffany up by the shoulders and pushed her up against his desk. He slotted himself between her legs and pushed up her skirt before plunging his tongue into her mouth and rubbing slow circles over her clit.

"See somethin' you like?" Joel teased when he caught you looking. You pursed your lips before rolling your eyes and shoving the earbud back in just in time to hear him groan deeply into her mouth when he began to sink his cock inside her. You had to admit, it was nice when the video didn't cut to a godawful closeup of her pussy but instead took advantage of her wide spread legs and chose to capture both their reactions. You swallowed, throat suddenly dry, as you continued to watch the video. Much like Joel in real life, he was attentive and caring, subtly making sure Tiffany was comfortable. He didn't jackhammer her, he didn't remain awkwardly silent, but instead he rolled his hips leisurely while lavishing her with praise until he tugged on her shirt and wrapped his hand around one of her breasts, biting at her nipple. She moaned and grabbed his hair, whispering how big he was and how good it felt and fuck me harder, Mr. Ryder, I can take it.

He pulled out and flipped her around, pushing her hips into the desk before sliding back inside, her pussy and thighs glistening from her arousal.

"Goddamn, you're so tight. Oh, good girl, look at you. Takin' my cock like a champ. Fuck, y'feel so good."

He was slamming his hips into her faster now, so much so that the desk was beginning to move. Tiffany's fingers clutched around the edge of the wood, knuckles white, mouth agape and eyes rolled to the back of her head.

"How much of this is fake?" you asked breathlessly, unable to look away. He shrugged, no longer watching the phone, but instead his eyes were glued to your face. Your lips were parted and your breath was coming a little faster now.

"What'dya mean?"

"Like, is she faking it?" you asked.

"No," he chuckled, casually draping his arm behind you. On the screen, Joel gently pressed a palm against her spine so she laid flat on the desk, then he reached down to pick up one of her legs to open her hips even wider. The noises she was making were so loud at that point, you didn't need to keep the earbud in anymore, so once again you took it out. He could tell how aroused you were, even though you initially tried to hide it. You squirmed in your seat and you rubbed the back of your neck before taking a deep breath. Your eyes met his and he saw you swallow thickly, your gaze flickering from his eyes to his lips over and over again.

"Joel?"

Your voice was low, suggestive, as you leaned into him a little more. The heat between you was growing thick. It was probably made worse by the alcohol coursing through your veins but he didn't care, and neither did you. He nodded and tore his eyes away.

"C'mon," he said.

He grabbed your arm and shoved his phone back in his pocket before leading you through the crowd, his cock straining against his zipper, knowing full well how that night was going to end.

"Where are we going?" you asked when he bypassed the bathrooms in favor of a third closed door.

"Basement. Where they keep the booze."

He swung open the door and flicked on the light before pulling you in after him and ushered you quickly down the stairs. He swiveled his head back and forth until he spotted a corner of the basement that had a small amount of privacy hidden behind boxes of liquor, then turned around and cupped your jaw before crashing his mouth against yours with a deep groan.

"We gotta be fast," you murmured before breaking away and tugging your jeans down.

"Yeah," was all he said, his heart thumping wildly in his chest when you pulled your jeans all the way off and started on your underwear. "Jesus Christ," he added when he realized you weren't messing around. Fast meant fast.

You tested the weight of what looked like a repurposed workbench before hopping up and grabbing the collar of his shirt, yanking him forward just as he undid his belt. You helped him unzip his jeans and slid your hand past his waistband, wrapping your fingers around his cock as you nipped greedily at his throat.

"Fuck, baby, you liked that, huh?" he murmured, grabbing onto your hips, letting you pull his cock out and line him up against your opening without his assistance. He hissed when the tip of his cock prodded at your folds, feeling just how wet you were from watching that video.

You didn't answer. You just spread your legs wider and scooted closer to the edge of the table. Your heels dug into the backs of his thighs, urging him forward. A whimper fell from your lips when he slowly eased inside you, then tipped your head back with a gasp when he pushed all the way in.

"God, that feels good," you moaned, your arms draping lazily around his neck, forehead resting against his chest.

Slowly, he pulled his cock out, leaving just the swollen tip before pausing and pushing back in. You both watched in a daze as he slid in and out, emerging slicker than before with each thrust. Calloused hands ran up and down your thighs. Slowly, leisurely, adoringly.

"Faster," you mumbled, eyes fluttering closed, forehead still pressed against his broad chest.

"I don't like goin' fast with you," he whispered, then wrapped his arms around your waist, tugging you even closer as he continued slowly feeding you his cock.

You moaned and dug your nails into his neck when he hit a spot just right, making your thighs shake and your breath stutter.

"L-like the video," you managed to stammer out. You pulled your head away from his chest and hazily looked up at him. "Don't you wanna make this table move like the desk?" you asked him with a teasing smile, but he didn't give you one back. He shook his head and rubbed the pad of his thumb over your lower lip.

"No," he said softly, still fucking you agonizingly slow. His eyes were warm and sweet as he stared down at you, scanning your face. His fingers slid through your hair, cupping the back of your head as he continued to look at you, watching the little flickers of pleasure cross your features every time he hit that one spot he knew made you come undone. "Don't wanna fuck you like them. Wanna take my time 'n really feel you." He rolled his hips, pushing inside you extra deep and you melted against him, giving up and letting him take you the way he needed.

The hand that was lost in your hair tilted your head so he could kiss you. His tongue, slow and lazy, slipped into your mouth, licking and savoring the taste of tequila and the cigarette you bummed from him an hour earlier.

Eventually, you lost yourself in the moment, raking your fingers through his hair and kissing him back just as deeply. You knew it was too intimate, you knew it was dangerous to be like this with him, but it was too late. Who were you kidding? It's been too late for a while now.

You finally had to break the kiss, your lungs burning for air the same way your thighs were burning around his waist. Tipping your head to the side, you slumped against his shoulder, gasping and panting while he continued to torturously fuck you slow in the dirty basement of your favorite bar.

The setting hardly matched the mood, but it didn't seem to matter.

"You gotta know, I don't fuck anyone else like this."

You squeezed your eyes shut.

His fingers dug into your ribs, the others into your scalp, pressing you against him as if you were one.

"Yeah?" Your voice was breathy and high pitched.

"Only you." He pressed his mouth against your hair, his cock splitting you open in the softest way possible. "Just you."

"Joel," you whined, one hand dropping to grab the thin material of his tshirt, fingers getting twisted as you tugged and pulled at him. You said his name again, a whisper that time. Being so close, you could feel his heart beating loud and fast in his chest. It felt like it matched your own.

"Yeah, say my name," he muttered, hips moving a little faster now. "You gonna come f'me, baby?"

You couldn't respond. You were too close and everything was too intense. Instead, you nodded and squeezed your eyes shut tighter, fighting back the two tears that sprung up out of nowhere.

When you came, you pulled harshly on his hair and gasped, warmth flooding your limbs as your orgasm washed over you. He was murmuring something but you couldn't hear him over the ringing in your ears and then finally, your muscles relaxed and you sighed.

"Fuck, Joel."

"I know," he grunted through clenched teeth. "Shit, you're gonna make me come. Feels too good, I can't... oh, god."

He made a move to pull out but your legs tensed around him once more, keeping him still. His hips slowed.

"What're you-"

"I want you to come inside me," you mumbled drowsily from his chest. You felt more than heard the low growl he gave you in response.

"Baby-"

Tugging him by the back of the neck, you pulled him down into a searing kiss, shutting him up. He cupped your jaw with one hand while the other remained wrapped around your waist, still holding you against him. It only took him a few more seconds before he spilled inside you, his moans getting lost against your lips.

Long after you had both recovered, your mouths were still latched together, tongues slowly dancing, neither of you wanting the moment to end, but it was you who finally pulled away.

"We should go before we get caught."

He hummed and pressed his forehead against yours.

"So what if we get caught?"

You practically stopped breathing at the double meaning behind his words, your brain unable to formulate a response. He must have sensed it because he continued.

"What's the worst that could happen?"

"Jail?" you finally offered, leaning back and giving him a smirk, purposely ignoring the real meaning behind his question. What would happen if someone found out about your affair?

He gave you a small smile and sighed. "You make a good point." He pulled out with a hiss, his gaze darkening for a moment when he saw your pussy leaking with him. "Christ," he whispered before backing away and fixing his clothes while you did the same.

"You ready?" he asked once you got your clothes back on and looked relatively presentable.

"Yeah," you replied, but took a step and stumbled. Joel quickly reached out to steady you, his thumbs rubbing affectionately over your arms as he did.

"Don't worry, I got you."

You looked up at him and smiled. "I know."