#and soon enough i won’t remember what they look like at all

[froggiewrites]

hi I had another idea for a request! dealer’s choice on the character(s) (but if you’re stuck for an idea maybe law?), but maybe the reader gets hurt in a fight and their (slightly in denial about being in love) future love interest nurses them back to health? can be fluff or smut or whatever you want I’m not picky I just love seeing your words

thank you I still love your work please keep it up

This request is from @toadmakes, on anon since it's her sideblog! I thought this idea was so sweet, so I just made a really fluffy, self indulgent little piece. Also, I let Law be cool last time I wrote about him so of course I had to make him a flustered little nerd in this one. I hope you enjoy it!!

A Helping Hand

Pairing: Law x Reader

SFW

Summary: You get hurt protecting Law, and he's not pleased. Warnings: Fluff, Lots of Banter, Very Little Hurt/Lots of Comfort Word Count: 1.3k

You don’t remember throwing yourself in front of Law, or being carried back to the Tang. You don’t remember the screams of your friends, or the shaking hands that so carefully bandaged you back up. But that’s alright, because they were all too eager to tell you how stupid you had been once you came to.

“–disgustingly irresponsible! Not to mention unnecessary! What good reason could there possibly have been to do that?” Law is the most furious you’ve ever heard him, and you fear it may be because he’s the most scared you’ve ever heard him. You don’t know how close of a call it was, but you know you hurt all over, and his eyes are shining with something someone who didn’t know better might confuse with tears.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt.” You try not to say it like an excuse or a plea. It’s simply fact.

His eyes shoot away from yours. You swear you see a hint of red on his cheeks, but just as quickly as you notice it, it’s gone. He clicks his tongue with displeasure before continuing. “I wasn’t going to get hurt. I could have very easily moved out of the way. You–” he sighs. “Don’t do anything like that again.”

“Well I don’t think I’ll be doing it anytime soon.” You try to give him a wry grin, but it turns more into a grimace as you shift, pain shooting through you. You’re covered head to toe in bandages, every part of you sore and bruised. You’re surprised you’re upright and conscious right now, honestly. “Can I get some painkillers?”

“You’re on enough to take down a horse.”

“But it still hurts.” You pout, and he grits his teeth and looks away from you again.

“Yeah. Almost dying tends to do that.” Even with the gruffness in his voice and face, his hands are gentle as they begin to fuss with your bandages, checking over every inch of you to ensure you’ve been properly taken care of. You could swear he hesitates slightly at checking the bandages around your thighs and chest, but he perserveres, ever the professional. You wince a few times when his hands brush a particularly tender spot, yelping when he makes slight contact with your ribs. He fiddles with the IV in your arm, and you feel a flood of relaxation and relief hit you. Looks like he found a reason to give you more painkillers after all. “You’re going to be out of commission for a long while, y’know.”

“How long?”

“At least six weeks, but probably longer.”

“What?”

“That’s nothing compared to what it could be. You have a couple broken ribs, not to mention all of the cuts and bruises. You’re lucky your organs weren’t crushed.”

“Can’t you like…shambles it away?”

“No.” His voice is flat. You look at him with wide, pleading eyes, and he scoffs at you. “Well, more like I won’t.”

“Why not?”

“If I just fix it you’ll run off and do it again, and next time you might not be so lucky.”

“Oh…so you’re just worried about me?” You giggle, filled with warmth at the idea. And maybe the pain meds. “You could just say so.”

“That’s not–” he lets out a soft choked sound when he realizes there’s no way to deny it without insisting he doesn’t care about you. As grumpy as he can be sometimes, he would never say something so unkind. Not to you. “Shut up.”

“Hey Captain?” You feel your tongue loosening with things you would never say, but you’re too out of it to stop yourself.

“Yes?”

“Do you like me?”

There’s definitely a flush to his cheeks now. “What?”

“I think you like me. A lot.”

“I–No!”

“You don’t like me?” Your voice cracks a little, tears coming far too quickly. Whatever he gave you is powerful stuff.

“That’s not–I–agh!” He roughly runs his fingers through his hair, desperately avoiding eye contact with you. “I like you. As a crewmate.”

You puff your cheeks out a bit with displeasure. “That’s all?”

“That’s all.” 

“I’ll believe you if you look at me.”

“I am looking at you.”

“You’re looking at the headboard over my shoulder, Captain.”

His eyes flick to yours, and he turns an even more brilliant shade of scarlet. “I li–” His shoulders tense and he suddenly shoots up and turns away from you. “I can’t believe I’m arguing with you about this. You’re high off your ass. I bet you won’t even remember this when you wake up tomorrow.” You can see the tips of his ears burning as he gathers his things and prepares to leave.

“You’re gonna abandon me?”

“I have work to do!”

“I’m a patient, I am work!”

His voice is rising with frustration. “You’re already set up, what else is there to do?”

“I don’t know, Captain, I’m not the doctor here!” You try to raise your arm to reach out to him, only to let out a soft whine when you can barely move it.

“Please stop trying to use your broken bones.” He comes closer to gently hold your arm down, concern clear.

“It doesn’t feel broken.”

“It will soon.”

“You’re gonna let me hurt? On purpose? You’re so mean to me, Captain.”

He sighs. His thumb starts rubbing small circles onto your hand, though he doesn’t seem conscious of the action. “If I fix you up, do you promise not to do anything like that again?”

“No.”

The affectionate movements stop. “What?”

“I can’t promise that. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m strong, I can take a little pain.”

“But I don’t want you to.” You know you sound petulant and childish, but you can’t stop yourself. “I don’t want you to hurt at all, I don’t care if you can handle it. You shouldn’t have to.”

“So you should?”

“Yes.”

“That’s stupid.”

You huff. “You’re stupid.”

He can’t help but break into a rare laugh, a chuckle that rumbles through him and makes your heart skip a beat. He doesn’t seem to realize he’s lost himself until he looks up to see you staring at him, eyes wide and cheeks red, mouth slightly agape. “What?”

“I really like you, Captain.”

He grows horribly flustered, but for once he doesn’t pull away from you. He keeps looking you in the eye, even as every part of him screams to run and avoid his embarrassment. “You do?” His tone is heart-wrenchingly hopeful.

“I do. So, so much. You’re the most beautiful and wonderful person in the world.” You can feel your smile grow dopey and lovesick. “I’d take a million hits for you. A billion, even.”

“What if it’d make me happier if you didn’t take any hits at all?”

“Then I would say you shouldn’t have let me join your crew. Getting hit is part of the job. But that’s okay. You’re worth it.” You lean forward, begging him for a single touch, since you currently can’t lift your arms. You can feel your eyes drooping, but you fight to keep them open long enough to receive what you want.

He sighs, but you can see the affectionate smile creeping onto his face. “You’re insufferable,” he mutters, resting a hand against your cheek so tenderly you could weep. “Get some rest. I’ll fix you up in the morning.”

You hum as he uses his palm to gently push you back down, his other hand on your shoulders to recline you slightly. You’re fading fast, finally losing your fight with sleep, but before you go, you swear you feel the ghost of his lips against your forehead.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece

[paingoes]

Rubies

Check In

this is the most living weapon its gotten in a while

(Content: living weapon whumpee, recovery, conditioning, past abuse, guilt, emotional whump, death mention)

Delta rolled over in the bed. He didn’t startle so much when he woke up anymore; the room had become familiar. Even weeks later, he still slept much more there than he ever had on the Thorn. He was still so tired all the time. They’d said it was okay for him to rest. He was grateful for that.

The only issue was how disoriented it made him. He didn’t know what time it was when he awoke, but the sky outside was bright and airy. He slowly rose up, about to brush his hair out of his face when he remembered it wasn’t there anymore. So weird.

He cracked open the bedroom door, doing his best to keep quiet. It was a force of habit. He slipped out into the hallway.

Levon was standing in the kitchen.

Delta dropped as soon as his eyes fell on him. Before Levon could even get a word out, he’d already gotten onto the floor, bowed down about as low as he could get.

He didn’t hear Kitty approach, but she was at his side soon enough, gently urging him off of the ground. He almost fought her. He didn’t want to. He reluctantly stood up, but he could not bring himself to look up. In his periphery, Levon leaned back against the kitchen counter. 

“Good morning, Delta.” He was unperturbed by the display, not upset with him for standing, as deeply wrong as it felt to do it.

It was the first time he’d said his name. Delta paid careful attention to the way he’d handled it. No contempt. No anger. 

Apollo stood back against the stove, staring daggers at Levon. He dropped the expression just as soon as he was caught doing it, but the discontent was still written across his face. A few bags were laid out on the counter.

Kitty’s hand still hung loosely in his own from where she’d picked him up off the ground. He found himself gripping it a little tighter. She bumped into him, nuzzling a bit like she was trying to mark her scent on him. He was already wearing her jacket.

“Thought I’d drop in to see how things are going. I brought you some clothes and some groceries. I’d have stopped by early, but I’ve been a bit preoccupied lately.” 

Something changed in Levon’s voice on those last few syllables. Nobody else would have noticed, but Delta had become adept at measuring people’s emotions. Finding their tipping points. It’d been a matter of survival.

He resisted the urge to drop to the floor again. He wouldn’t beg for forgiveness. He didn’t deserve it. But he was sorry. He knew what preoccupied meant.

“Things are going fine.” Apollo’s tone didn’t betray any of his enmity. “Maybe you’d like to give him a minute to get his bearings? He just woke up.”

“I’m okay,” Delta said weakly, surprising himself. Surprising them, clearly. 

He clamped his hand over his mouth just as quickly. He hadn’t been given permission to speak, not in front of Levon. He wouldn’t have normally. He didn’t like to object, but he had an override: Levon didn’t need to give him anything.

“It won’t be long.” Levon rested his elbows against the counter. “You’ll have the rest of the day to yourself, I promise. Just a talk.”

“Yes, sir,” Delta confirmed cautiously, since he hadn’t been punished for speaking the first time. 

Kitty leaned closer against him. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught her wink.

~

They went outside. Levon had obviously wanted to talk alone, but was not so audacious as to kick Apollo out of his own house. Delta pulled on a pair of blue and white tennis shoes he’d recovered from the den before stepping out into the morning light. He hadn’t come out to this side of the house yet, certainly hadn’t ventured as far as the dirt road that led up to it. 

Levon’s ship was parked in the yard, nearly the same size as the house. It was a bright, electric purple, reflecting the sunlight out at harsh angles. His leather boots paced unbothered through the grass of the yard, getting dust on their edges as he walked out into the road. Delta followed after him. It was a bit hard to keep pace when Levon was so much taller. Levon slowed down to accommodate the difference.

It was warm out. Delta studied the trees of the forest around him — mostly Arecaceae. They were further South then he’d realized. Bright birds moved upwards in the canopy.

The wildlife was much easier to focus on than the figure beside him. He couldn’t help himself from tensing as Levon spoke.

“How’s your arm?” He cast a glance at the cast. Delta held it up for him, the way he would’ve under examination. If nothing else, Paris had at least made a clean break. It didn’t hurt much anymore. 

“It’s better. Thank you.” Delta blushed for some reason. It was hard to accept concern from Kitty or Apollo. It felt stranger coming from Levon. More taboo. He didn’t know why.

“You cut your hair,” Levon observed.

Delta flinched. 

“They…said I could,” he defended weakly. He shouldn’t have. He should’ve just left it alone, he didn’t know why he had even said anything in the first place. He started to apologize.

“No, it looks nice,” Levon said, “Lot less heavy, I’m sure.”

It was.

~

The road eventually led up to a tributary, which led up to a large lake. It was cooler by the edge of it; the wind carried off of the water.

“I wanted to check in to see if you were adjusting okay. I wanted to make sure that you were ready to come back,” Levon admitted, toeing at a stone with his boot. He cast Delta a sidelong glance. “Are you ready to come back?”

Delta stared at him blankly. Levon nodded; of course he didn’t know. Nobody had bothered to explain it to him. 

He passed him a smooth shaped stone. He didn’t know why. Gesture of moral support? Delta took it anyway.

“There’s going to be a trial. Nothing big. We just need to catch some of the council up to speed on your situation and establish a plan going forward.” He paused.

Delta had returned to staring at the ground. The thumb of his good hand turned anxiously over on the stone; he gave no other indication he was upset. Everything else remained perfectly neutral.

“This is only in the interest of security,” Levon tried to reassure him, “It won’t be punitive — though that may come up in conversation, nobody will go for it. I’d veto it before they could. I gave you my word that you wouldn’t be harmed and I mean that. Still…it may be a difficult experience for you. And your friends are concerned it may be too early.”

~

Delta blinked. They’d said that?

They’d been concerned about him. That strange, dull ache started up in his chest again. They’d defended him.

Not punitive, he’d said. Why not? He’d have deserved it. Amnesty was a promise they had made to him; it was never anything he had asked for. All he had wanted was to get out. Whatever they decided to do with him afterwards was beyond him. He’d have accepted it gladly. It was the least he deserved.

What plan, then?

The answer came to mind nearly before the question did. How best to utilize him. What targets to hit. How he’d need to be disciplined — not punished, disciplined — and how he’d need to be re-trained.

He’d do it. If Levon asked him to, he’d do it.

He thought of Lemuria. He thought, funnily enough, of the seagulls he’d once vaporized midair when they’d been in proximity of the target ship. What had the gull ever done wrong?

“I’ll go, sir,” he said, though he didn’t feel ready. By the end of the month, he’d be closer to it. He didn’t want to delay it. He didn’t want to be difficult.

“We’re still preparing,” Levon nodded, “You should be, too. It’d be nice to have a clearer view of what your desires are for the future. It’d give us something to work around. I don’t know if you’ve given it any thought, but I’d be remiss not to ask.”

A large waterfowl descended from the sky, landing noisily just at the edge of the water. His attention was drawn away for a second. He was still looking at it when he answered.

“I’m not sure I understand, sir.” He found himself gripping the rock tighter.

He could only read the question as a probe, something to get caught on. But he didn’t get the sense of Levon trying to trick him. He couldn’t untangle it.

“Would you want to stay onboard Galatea after all this? Or do you want to be done with it? I can’t make any promises, but we’d take it into consideration during the ruling.”

Oh. Oh.

They don’t need you.

The realization hit with both relief and devastation. The devastation won out. He couldn’t stop himself.

“I can still operate,” he said. He had never once had to fear obsolescence. It was a brand new terror. “I’m not at full capacity anymore, but it’s still viable. If you wanted me to. Sir.”

His hands traced the collar unconsciously. 

Levon had been standing with his hand on his hip, his head cocked to the side in a post that made him look younger than he was. Rebel heartthrob — he’d never forgotten how to act like it. As the offer, his posture dropped, his expression turning much more serious. 

Delta flinched from the way his face fell, the minute shift of his shoulder. But the hit didn’t come, again. 

“Delta,” he spoke calmly, but there was a sternness beneath it, “Do me a favor.”

“Yes, sir.” His fingers twitched. Anything.

“Don’t ever suggest that again.”

He shut down.

They didn’t want it. All his life he’d been indispensable and now they didn’t even want it. In that instant, the thousand discreet instances of indiscriminate killing came secondary to his desire to be needed.

Levon’s expression softened, his lips parting slightly as his eyes searched.

“Is that what you want?” he asked quietly. “To keep being a weapon?”

There was no good answer, no right one. To his horror, he realized his eyes had started watering again. What the fuck was wrong with him?

“Oh, oh, no,” Levon’s eyes widened in surprise, all his harshness leaving. “Okay. Easy.”

“Sorry.” He wiped at his eyes frantically. “I didn’t…mean to.”

Fuck.

“You’re alright. So, more time then?” 

He hated to ask for it. He didn’t answer.

“Okay. More time,” Levon confirmed.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

It was his thousandth time hearing that. It never sank in. He’d never be sorry enough.

~

It was a somewhat awkward walk back to the house. Kitty hopped off the porch as they approached, making grabby hands. Delta took the one of them, letting her slide into place beside him. He appreciated the proximity. She glanced at his eyes, still a bit inflamed from crying, and leveraged herself in between him and Levon.

“Whaddya talk about?” she purred.

“The future,” Levon answered.

“Oh no.”

Delta pressed his forehead against her shoulder. He’d just woken up, but he was tired again. It was the kind of exhaustion sleep wouldn’t fix.

“I can extend the grace period if you really need it. Not by much, I’m afraid.” he cast a cautious look at Delta, “But you’d have more time to think it over.”

She moved up onto the porch. Delta hovered between her and the front door, unsure if he was being dismissed. Levon leaned against the railing at the bottom of the stairs, his hand returning to his hip.

“Really?” Her voice was bright, pleasantly surprised. “You’re gonna be able to hold up without me?”

“I know you’re still working,” he leveled. 

She giggled in response, the edge of her tail flicking back and forth, “I thought you needed the help.”

“There is no overstating how much help we need.”

Delta still hovered by the door, overcome with the strangest feeling of loss. He felt like he was witnessing something alien, the way people spoke when they did not have daggers drawn.

Levon pulled off of the lawn. The engine’s cacophony broke up the quiet morning, then was gone just as quickly as it appeared.

“It was nice of him to drop off clothes,” Apollo managed, the picture of civility. Delta slid into the chair by the pass-through, leaning his arms against the counter. He flinched as Kitty passed behind him, interpreting any movement he could not see as a threat. She just hopped up on the counter, swinging her legs a little.

“What’d he say to you?” She asked, a bit of the levity gone but none of the gentleness.

Delta bit his nails; it was a worse habit than the hair-twirling, but his hair was too short to do that now. He shrugged.

“…Asked what I wanted to do.”

“Oh,” she paused, “What do you want?”

He shrugged again. It was disrespectful. He should’ve stopped. It was just hard to speak.

“Hadn’t thought about it,” he mumbled. 

Because he hadn’t. He didn’t think it would matter, that anyone would even bother to ask.

He wanted to be useful, if he had to pick one. And he didn’t really want to kill again. Those two seemed at odds with one another. 

~~~

…………

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety @flowery-whump @littlebookworm69

@lordcatwich @human-123-person @paperprinxe @whomeidontknowthem

[starryeyedcas]

Every Destiel Fic I’ve Ever Read [WIP]

Let’s do it! I took this list directly from my twitter

I’m not really going to post my ratings and stuff and I’m not going to copy what I said verbatim because as I grow older my opinions always change and every fic deserves love regardless of what some stranger on the internet thinks! Check these out if you need something new to read :)

Also, side note: A lot of the fics I tend to read are either non-canon or pre S10. If your looking for canon type, recent fics this will not be a list for you and I apologize :(

Also pt. 2: Some of the fics that I have listed on my twitter are no longer available so I have decided to not list them here. It’s very sad because there were some really good ones! Regardless, I’m still trying to keep this list as up to date as I possibly can when it comes to my reading ventures. Either way, I hope you enjoy these fics as much as I do <3

1. NINETY ONE WHISKEY

By komodobits, 401,193 words (not counting other fics in the series)

Please, please, please! Read this if you haven’t yet!! It’s a slow burn, World War II based fic and it’s my absolute favorite fic of all time. In fact I think it may be my favorite story of all time!! I come back to this fic always. If I’m sad, I read it. If I’m happy, I read it. I’ve read it probably 4 or 5 times at this point and it always holds up. I will say though, IT WILL MAKE YOU CRY. Dean and Cas are written VERY well, in fact every character in this fic are written to perfection. You find yourself growing attachments to side characters that you may have even forgotten existed in the show. I seriously cannot recommend this one enough. You will not regret it.

2. A BRIEF GLIMPSE

By cloudyjenn, 12,356 words

I’ll be honest, this one is special for me. This was the very first Destiel fic I ever read back in 2014. That being said, I may be a little biased towards it but I do genuinely think that it’s very cute. It’s a Slice-of-Life esque story with light supernatural happenings; where Castiel is in high school and has a very big crush on his best friend, Sam Winchester. Things start to go awry when Sam invites Cas to a carnival. I won’t spoil too much though! If you want a quick read with some fluff, definitely read this one.

3. SMELLS LIKE ROSES

By unknown :(, 53,828 words

Uhoh! A Djinn fic! I remember this one just hurting me so much. Dean is living his dream life. Everything around him is perfect and he’s mysteriously very happy. When you get to the end of this fic, holy cow the heartbreak. It’s written very well, you obviously can’t go wrong with a fic that slightly follows canon. I really like this one and I might reread it again soon but I cannot stress enough how much it hurts! Stay safe out there.

4. NOT ALL THE WAY THROUGH

By Tracy, around 4,700 words

Shorter fic based around s5 episodes 3 and 4. This one is good but it’s also very painful. I think I like fics that hurt me lol. There are some warnings I want to state! This fic features substance abuse, non con, mentions of torture and A CHARACTER DEATH so please be careful! This is told through Castiel’s perspective and all the summary says is “Castiel’s new life begins and ends with Dean.” So I will leave it at that. (Also as a side note whenever I think of this fic I think of the song ‘And So it Goes’ by Billy Joel. Listen to that while reading and you are sure to shed some tears. Stay safe friends xx)

5. PAINTED ANGELS

By WinnJennster, 105,637 words

This one used to be really popular, so it’s likely many of you have already read it. Either way I will still recommend it. It’s a nice little “reunited” type fic in which Cas is an author and Dean is a painter. I will say, however, that the angst in this fic is HEAVY. Personally, I’m not huge into giant angsty fics like this, or maybe the type of angst portrayed in this one. I just remember feeling a little frustrated by it. YET, this fic has a lot of good memorable moments with some fluff sprinkled throughout. If you love angst, this is the fic for you. WARNING though, you need an AO3 account to read this fic. If you’re not already logged in, you’re out of luck.

6. TWIST AND SHOUT

By Gabriel and standbyme, 97,556 words

Who are we kidding?? Everyone on this website KNOWS this fic. You all could probably recount it backwards, forwards, sideways, upside down. Who knows. All we know is that this fic is a capital S-A-D. When I was in high school, I LOVED this fic. I adored it, no matter how much it made me cry. Because YES there is a MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. And NO it’s not FUN. Can I be honest? After rereading it, I feel as if Cas and Dean are out of character! Doesn’t mean it’s a bad story, absolutely not. It’s beautiful! I think it’s wonderful and obviously I recommend it. But you could change the names of the boys and you wouldn’t even know its based off two characters from Supernatural. This is my hill and I will gladly die on it. Read it if you dare, but remember to beware OOooOOoooOo (another side note: I had to go to the fic to get the link for this post and I swear to God my eyes watered when I read that first sentence. I HATE and I LOVE this fic all at the same time.)

7. SMOKE IN THE MIRROR

By letters_of_stars, 52,327 words

Oh shoot! Dean is an artist and he needs a nude model!! Who do you think is gonna take the bait?!?! In all seriousness though, I really adore this one. YES Castiel is nude and YES Dean is painting him but if you’re expecting smut right from the get go you are mistaken! I wanna say this is another slow burn?? But it has also been a while since I’ve read it. I just remember liking this one a lot. In my original rating, I gave it a 5/5 so that’s gotta mean something. Another little slice of life with a lot of good moments. Check it out!

8. A HOME BENEATH THE STARS

By CheshireMoon, 71,240 words

Hi, it’s me again. The girl who likes fics that rip her heart to SHREDS. I’m gonna be about as vague as can about this one because boy did that ending catch me off guard when I first read it. So Dean is homeless, right? And Cas is a kind hearted, Good Samaritan, astronomer. When the two meet Dean’s life changes… for the better… I’m gonna leave it at that. You could be ignorant like me and skip over the warnings to this fic and just leave it to good will and faith that this fic will leave you happy and giggly. Or you could do yourself a favor and know what’s coming but not know when it happens. Either way, I still recommend this one. I really like it, just make sure you have a fluff fest fic waiting for you on the other side.

9. THE FACE OF HEAVEN

By orange_crushed, 9,772 words

This one is short and so so sweet. Another type of slice-of-life where Dean is just a gay bartender living his best gay bartending life when he suddenly comes across a fallen star whose name is Castiel. It’s very unique and I love it so much. In my original opinion of this fic I said I didn’t like the formatting? And I think what I meant to say is, I don’t like reading long paragraphs but the formatting to this fic is perfectly fine lol. Still a fun little read and it’s pretty fluffy!

10. SO MUCH TANGLED THREAD

By imogenbynight, 37,428 words

Holy crap! Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES. It’s like, Ninety One Whiskey almost, except there’s time travel, and supernatural happenings, and OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS FIC. It’s ends pretty quick but it’s still so so so good. Please read it, show it some love. I think about this one from time to time and I still smile. Much like with Painted Angels, you need an account to read this one. So make sure you’re logged in! If you don’t have an account you best get that invitation fr.

11. DIAMOND STAR HALO

By had, 4,924 words

Just pure fluff told from Sam Winchester’s perspective. I kind of have a soft spot for fics told from a third party perspective because it’s like they’re seeing Dean and Cas how WE see Dean and Cas and it makes me all giddy, I dunno. This is a good short read and you should definitely read it after reading something really sad and heart wrenching!

12. CINDERWINGS

By bendingsignpost, 181,619 words

STOP!! I love this fic!! It’s a Cinderella type story, there’s a masquerade ball, Dean is a PRINCE. Very fantasy with supernatural elements. It’s WONDERFUL. The way the author writes about the world through Castiel’s perspective is super entertaining and funny and I love the misunderstandings that happen within the story. If you love fantasy and monarchy and magic and parties, this is definitely a fic for you.

13. ONE WHITE LIE

By komodobits, 11.179 words

I can’t lie, komodobits is my favorite fic author and so I am a little biased towards their stories. This one is no exception. It’s hilarious, lighthearted, and fluffy. The range that this author has with their fics amazes and horrifies me. How can one person have that much talent? I have no idea. This is just a komodobits appreciation post, you got me. Anywho, Castiel tells a small lie to the Winchester brothers and they mess with him. Not based in canon, a very slice-of-life fic. I love it, please check it out.

14. FORGET-ME-NOT BLUES

By noangelsinthegarrison, 68,689 words

Ahhh I remember this one. Another slice-of-life, have you noticed a pattern? Sam and Jess are getting married! Woohoo! Of course Dean is in the wedding but so is Castiel, someone Dean has history with……….. Basically there’s misunderstandings and mutual pining and it’s fun. It’s got all sorts of romcom elements with just a dash of angst!

15. MUSCLE MEMORY

By komodobits, 18,961 words

Give me a story that’s loosely based off of 50 First Dates and written by my favorite fic author and suddenly I’m in Heaven. I’m a really big fan of movie AU’s, especially well written and this one is no exception. It’s kind of sad though, but if you’ve seen 50 First Dates then you should expect that. Even if you aren’t a fan of movie AU’s, I would still suggest giving this one a read.

16. KIND OF A FOREVER DEAL

By komodobits, 111,460 words

STOP LOOKING AT ME. YOU THINK IM PUTTING TOO MANY FICS BY THE SAME AUTHOR HERE? WELL YOU LISTEN TO ME PAL, THIS WON’T BE THE LAST ONE EITHER!! Ahem, this fic is awesome and sort of a fan favorite already!! Slice-of-life, teenaged angst, summer camp, LoVe, it’s amazing! The way that the author wrote the friendship between Dean, Cas, Jo, and Victor has me in tears. Very wholesome and heart wrenching, highly recommend!

17. IMPERFECT PROPOSALS

By Fallen_Angel_Meg, 111,082 words

Another movie AU! This is loosely based off The Proposal and filled with fluff! You really don’t see a whole lot of crossover fics that are long like this one, but it’s fun to read and you’ll probably fly through it just like I did. Do you like The Proposal? No? Read it anyways xx

18. CHECKED OUT

By whelvenwinge, 27,127 words

Okay this one, is really good. Like really good. It comes complete with original artwork and fantastic storytelling. Castiel is a librarian and he really despises Dean Winchester, an acclaimed author. It’s sooooo good, I cannot stress enough how much I think you should read this. And you’ll get really pretty pictures to look at! The ending is great, the beginning is great, it’s just wonderful. So what are you waiting for? Run along now and read it!

19. SPECIAL INSTRUCTIONS

By habitatfordeanwinchester, 2,593

This one is just cute. It’s short and fluffy. Imagine Castiel working at a Chipotle and getting special instructions on a mobile order. Can you guess who they’re from? If you’re sad and need a pick me up, just read this one. It’s so cute!

20. C-S-T-L

By komodobits, 90,377

It has been a really long time since I read this one. But I know that I loved every second of it and I was crying during the majority of it. Either because I had just got done reading 91w or because the story itself made me emotional. Either way it’s a fantastic read! Castiel is an android and Dean is tasked with adding him to their army for the WAR. This fic has wonderful world building, really in-depth character exploration, and the ANGST. I’m probably going to read this one again sometime soon~ JOIN MEEEEE

[angegiarratanawriter]

TNTL Horny Addition

Warnings: Smut

Word Count: 3371

Summary: During an episode of Try Not To Laugh, you break Angela in an unconventional way

Being on the Try Not To Laugh stage has always been surreal for you. Having grown up watching the original episodes that were posted few and far between, it’s been so cool getting to see the show grow and gain its own cult following. It’s honestly one of the reasons that you had decided to audition for Smosh in the first place, and now, getting to be on that stage is one of the coolest things in the world.

This week on TNTL, you’re getting to work with Chanse, Amanda, Courtney, Tommy, and Angela. It’s a great line up, one that you know is going to be a hit once it goes up, if only because the chemistry between Angela and Chanse always makes for a killer video. It also helps that this episode is Simon Says, a clear fan favorite.

As the crew gets everything set up on stage, you pull out your phone and go into your notes app, pulling up the list of bits that you’ve jotted down over the past couple of months. As you’re scrolling, you find one that you’ve been workshopping for Angela. It’s a little bit hardcore, but you think that at this point your relationship is secure enough where you won’t get into too much trouble if you do it. You just hope you get the chance.

Emily calls the cast together to start shooting the intro, so you slip your phone into your pocket with a little smirk. You walk over and take your spot beside Angela, who immediately notices the smile tugging at your lips. She quirks an eyebrow at you in question, but you just shake your head and mouth ‘you’ll see’. Before she can say anything in protest, Courtney starts the into.

“Hey, everyone! Welcome back to another episode of Try Not To Laugh. This week we’re doing Simon Says, so the person in the chair gets to choose a theme or prop that everyone has to use. You know the rest of the drill, try to make each other laugh, spit out the water, blah blah blah. So, who wants to go first?”

“Ooh, I will!” Amanda says eagerly. “I want all of your bits to be set in a Western.”

“Nice,” Chanse says, doing a little fist pump.

While Amanda takes her seat in the stool, everybody heads to the prop area to start prepping their bits. Tommy and Chanse go out first and do their “Gay Cowboys” bit, which looks suspiciously like a recreated scene from Brokeback Mountain. Courtney goes next, wearing a tiny cowboy hat that immediately gets the laugh. As everyone takes their turn, you figure out what you want to do.

“Hey Ange, can I borrow your shirt?” you ask.

“Sure.”

Angela shucks off the white button down that she has on, leaving her in a form fitting black tank top. You take a minute to appreciate her arms before remembering that you have a job to do. You shed your own shirt and put hers on, only doing up the bottom two buttons so that your torso is left completely exposed. You then grab the fluffy pink cowboy hat off of the shelf and grab Courtney to help you.

As soon as you walk on stage, Amanda’s eyes go wide as she looks at your outfit. She pauses slightly on your torso, and you can’t tell if it’s because she recognizes Angela’s shirt or because she’s staring at your stomach. You take a quick glance back over your shoulder, before turning back to Courtney and starting your bit.

“Well, that was the strangest thing I’ve ever seen,” you say with a fake southern accent.

“I’ll say,” Courtney agrees, matching your tone. “I just don’t understand one thing-”

“It’s better you don’t try to. Things like this are better left to rest.”

“But-”

“Forget it, Jake. It’s Chinatown.”

Amanda smacks her hand on her thigh at the reference and turns to the side, spitting the water out before breaking out into legitimate laughter. You’re honestly surprised that this bit was such a success, as it honestly wasn’t your strongest idea out of the gate. Shrugging, you start to walk back towards the prop area but Amanda’s voice stops you.

“Wait, I wanna know what happened!”

“Uh…strippers in a motel?”

“What?” Amanda says, still laughing. “That has nothing to do with the movie.”

“I know,” you say, winking.

Without explaining any further, you turn around and walk back stage, letting Chanse take the floor. You walk slowly over to the monitor, taking the cowboy hat off and placing it back on the shelf on the way by as you watch his bit. As you pull off the button down shirt that you’d borrowed, you feel eyes on boring into your back.

You look over your shoulder to find Angela staring at you, her eyes dark and her lips slightly parted. A little smirk tugs at your lips, and it takes every ounce of self control that you have to refrain from teasing her. Under normal circumstances, you would, but nobody actually knows that you’re dating and there’s a camera on the prop area. Instead you settle for shooting her a wink that won’t be caught before grabbing your own shirt and pulling it on.

“Here,” you say softly, handing over the button down.

“Thanks,” she says, swallowing hard.

“No problem.”

When Amanda’s turn in the chair is done, Chanse takes her place and chooses to make everyone use the little toy chainsaw. Courtney ends up going classic with a Boneless bit, Tommy pretends to cut down a tree that falls on you, Angela chases Amanda around with it, and then they reverse for Amanda’s turn. When it gets to be your turn, you go out with no plan, and end up doing a hilariously bad monologue. It doesn’t get the laugh, but Chanse gives you a nod on your way off the stage.

Courtney’s turn is all about things going wrong on planes, so you trail out an allergic reaction bit where you use a massive sword as an epi pen. Tommy does a safety monologue while mimicking turbulence, Chanse and Angela do a two part bit that is similar to the flight simulator video that they did a while ago, and Amanda puts on a terrible wig and pretends to be the worst flight attendant ever.

Once Courtney’s turn is done, it’s Angela’s turn to take the stool. This is what you’ve been waiting for, and you can only hope that she ends up choosing something that will work with what you have planned. It takes her a minute to finally come up with a rule, but when she does, you do a little silent celebration with yourself.

“Alright, it’s opposite day, folks,” Angela says. “Do with that what you want.”

Smirking to yourself, you walk back to the prop area to get ready for your bit. You spend a minute reversing some things in your head before you get the go ahead from Emily. As you step out onto the stage, Angela looks up, and surprise colors her features. You can only assume it’s because you didn’t bring any props with you, but you know you won’t need any. A sly smirk tugs at your mouth as you stop behind her, leaning in so that your lips almost brush her ear.

“I know that you’re used to being the top in this relationship, but there are a few things that I want to do to you when we get home,” you whisper, your voice low enough that it won’t be picked up by the mics. “First, I’m going to fuck you against our front door, and then, after you’ve come at least twice, I’m going to carry you to our bedroom and handcuff you to the bed posts. From there, you have two options. I can go down on you until my jaw is sore or I can put the strap on and fuck you until you can’t feel your legs.”

The whole time you’ve been whispering in Angela’s ear, you’ve watched a deep blush start to creep up the back of her neck. You can tell she’s trying so hard to hold it together, but as you give her the options, she chokes on the water in her mouth and ends up coughing it out. Her head whips around to look at you, her dark eyes trailing a path down your body before coming back up and locking you into a staring match.

“Remember,” you say, a little bit louder so that the mics can catch it. “It’s opposite day.”

With a little wink, you turn around and walk back to the prop area, letting Amanda take your place on the stage. Throughout the rest of her time in the stool, Angela looks incredibly distracted. She hardly laughs at anyone else’s bit, only coming close when Chanse comes out in almost full drag.

“Girl, what did you say to her?” Amanda asks as she adjusts her wig.

“Something that’s probably going to get me in huge trouble,” you murmur.

As Angela’s turn ends, you head back out to get the rule for Tommy’s turn. He ends up choosing ‘the worst pick up lines’. Chanse rolls out the classic Tennessee one, while Amanda says something about eating dessert before dinner. Courtney goes insane with a line about looking for a third, while Angela goes so dirty that you’re sure that her entire line is going to end up getting bleeped. As you step out onto the stage for your turn, you decide to go classic as well.

“Roses are red, violets are blue,” you say, stopping center stage and batting your eyelashes at Tommy. “I really, really wanna fuck you.”

“Oh shit,” Chanse says from the back, cackling at the wide eyed look on Tommy’s face. “Do another, do another.”

“Violets are blue, roses are thorny, you make me very, very horny.”

That does it, and Tommy spits out the water he’d been holding in his mouth before starting to laugh so hard that he almost falls out of his chair. The crew is cracking up too, and you can see Emily exchanging a look with Shayne off camera. You think you hear something about Courtney having used that line on him when they first started dating, but before you can address it, you’re being ushered to sit in the stool.

“Okay, uhm, I’m gonna go with ‘weirdest things you can get delivered’.”

Amanda ends up going first, getting you with her classic PUS uniform and a tiny toilet that makes a flushing noise. Tommy goes next, coming in with Chanse dressed in a tiger suit and on a leash. Courtney brings out a box of vaguely phallic items, and then Tommy brings in the ripped scroll pretending that its the Declaration of Independence. Finally, it’s Angela’s turn, and you’re honestly a little nervous. She struts out in an FBI jacket and a pair of sunglasses, a pair of handcuffs in her hand.

“You’re under arrest for stealing hearts,” Angela declares.

“Awww, that’s adorable,” Courtney coos from backstage.

“No, it’s not. She’s literally stealing hearts and selling them on the black market. It’s about time that justice is delivered.”

The tiniest little inhale is all it takes to make your life a living hell, as you feel water get pulled down into your lungs. A cough threatens to burst from your throat, but you manage to force your mouth to stay closed, and no water comes out. When you regain control, you stand up and turn around, presenting your hands behind your back. Angela takes them and slaps the cuffs on with practiced ease before leaning in to whisper in your ear.

“You like this, don’t you? Well don’t you worry, you’re gonna get everything that you asked for.”

—

True to her word, the first thing that Angela does when you walk through the front door is pin you against it. A harsh moan slips from your mouth as she pushes a leg in between yours, but it’s swallowed when she connects your lips in a heated kiss. You feel hands move up to your hips, and your breath stutters out when they force you down onto a hard thigh. The movement creates delicious friction, and you suddenly find yourself in the middle of a chase.

As Angela works your hips in a steady rhythm, she starts to kiss down your jaw. As she gets to your neck, you feel her suck gently, hard enough that you can feel it but soft enough that it won’t leave a hickey. Your hips jerk at the sensation, and you suddenly feel an overwhelming need to have her mark you anywhere, everywhere, so you grab the back of her head and pull her in closer.

“Fuck, harder,” you stutter out.

“Is that permission?” Angela asks.

“God yes.”

You feel Angela smirk against your neck before she sucks a patch of your skin into her mouth and lavishes it with her tongue. A harsh moan falls from your lips as she pulls your hips down harder against her leg, and you start to feel the tell tale signs of your high. A rush of warmth spirals down your spine, and your lower stomach starts winding tighter and tighter until it finally snaps.

“Fuck!” you moan, tossing your head back against the door.

The white behind your eyelids blinds you, and you find yourself reaching out for something to hold you steady. Through it all, you feel Angela pressing soft kisses into your neck as she slowly starts to bring you back down. When you’re finally able to open your eyes, you find her already looking at you with an adoring expression on her face.

“So pretty,” Angela murmurs, tracing a finger down your cheek. “I can’t wait to fucking ruin you.”

“Then don’t,” you pant out.

Angela doesn’t waste a second, shifting her hands down your body and positioning them on the backs of your legs before scooping you up. It takes longer than it should to reach the bedroom, with both of you getting distracted by the smallest kiss or touch. When you finally make it, she places you gently down onto the edge of the bed and takes a step back, looking at you with hungry eyes.

“Get undressed,” Angela orders. “Now.”

You immediately scramble into a sitting position, pulling your shirt above your head before unclipping your bra and tossing them both to the side. As you work on getting your sneakers off, you watch Angela start to get undressed too. It takes her less time, and soon she’s walking over to her side table butt naked while you work overtime to get your skinny jeans down your legs.

By the time you manage to pull your panties off, Angela has already gotten everything prepped. There’s a pair of handcuffs threaded through the bars of the headboard, and she’s wearing your favorite strap. You can tell by the way that it’s glistening that she’s already put some lube on it, and that’s confirmed when you look up to see her wiping the stickiness from her hands with a tissue.

“Get up here,” Angela orders, nodding to the head of the bed. “On your back, legs spread, hands above your head.”

Not wanting to waste a second, you crawl up the bed and lay back against the pillows. It takes you a minute to get comfortable, but when you do, you obey the rest of Angela’s orders and put your hands above your head while parting your legs for her. Once you’re in position, she climbs on top of you and reaches up, snapping the cuffs tightly around your wrists.

“Pull,” Angela orders, so you do. “Comfortable?”

“Yes,” you reply.

“Good. If you want to stop at any time-”

“Just tell you. I know, baby.”

“Okay,” Angela says softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Are you ready?”

“So ready.”

With a nod, Angela turns her attention downwards and brushes the strap over your clit a few times. The action sends a jolt of arousal through you, and you can feel yourself clenching around nothing. She looks up at you one last time, and when you nod, she lines up with your entrance and starts to push in slowly. As she bottoms out, you’re taken a bit by surprise as a wave of heat rolls down your spine.

“Fuck, this isn’t gonna take long,” you mutter, blushing.

“Already, baby?” Angela teases.

Instead of dignifying her with an answer, you grit your teeth and and curl your fingers around the headboard, getting ready to hang on for dear life. You give a brief little nod, and then Angela is moving, setting a slow and steady pace that feels so fucking good but leaves you aching for more. Still, you had been close when you started and that hasn’t changed. If anything, it’s worse now, with Angela looking down at you, her lips parted, and the strap hitting just the right spot.

“Fuck,” you moan, your hands pulling at the cuffs. “Fuck, baby, I-”

“I know,” Angela says softly, her hips speeding up. “Take what you need.”

The pleasure spills over, and you feel yourself being thrown in to a mind blowing orgasm. Your entire body shudders as shock waves roll through you, bringing you up as high as you’ve ever been. As the pleasure starts to fade back to baseline, you tilt your head back against the pillows to try to force some air into your lungs. This opens up an opportunity for Angela to attach her lips to your neck again, and she takes it.

As your girlfriend sucks another mark into your collarbone, she starts to speed her hips up. The tip of the strap is hitting your g-spot on every stroke, and you can tell that it won’t be long until you reach another high. Not long ends up being sooner than expected, and your orgasm surprises you when Angela bites down hard on your neck. The comedown is a little bit rough this time, and you can feel the oversensitivity start to set in.

“Baby, I need you to come,” you say, your breath stuttering. “I don’t think I can take much more.”

“Do you want me to stop?” Angela asks, looking up in concern.

“God no. But I only have one more left in me.”

“I can work with that.”

Angela speeds up her hips until she’s practically slamming into you, the force of her thrusts causing the headboard to smack against the wall. The sound is obnoxious and sure to piss off your neighbors, but you can’t bring yourself to care when your girlfriend is making you feel this good. You feel her hips start to stutter, and you know that she’s close, so you do everything you can to help her along, rutting your hips up into her to increase the friction.

“Fuck, I’m there,” Angela moans. “Come with me.”

Never one to disobey an order, you feel your stomach tighten before a spark of pleasure steamrolls through your body. You gasp for air, trying and failing to get any in. It takes you a long time to come down, long enough that Angela is looking at you with a cute little pout on her face when you do finally open your eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you says, leaning up to press a soft kiss to your girlfriend’s lips. “Just a little over stimmed.”

“Do you want me to pull out?”

“Please.”

With an adorable little nod, Angela carefully separates your bodies. Once she’s pulled completely put of you, she grabs the keys to the handcuffs and unlocks them before getting up and disappearing into the bathroom. She returns a minute later with a warm wash cloth and no strap in sight. A smile tugs at the corner of your lips as she starts to wipe the wetness from your thighs, and you sigh softly.

“I love you,” you murmur.

“And I love you,” Angela replies, looking up with a smile. “Now get up and go pee, you don’t want to get a UTI.”

[skkfujoshi]

And when I come in quick to steal a kiss,it’ll only cut your lips,my dear

“Thank you for your help,Hirotsu.” “I don’t know what you’re referring to,Dazai.I simply told Higuchi about what you  intended for the weretiger to do.” “Yes,but you knew she’d undoubtedly tell Akutagawa  about it,causing him and Atsushi to team up.”

Hirotsu gave a curt nod.Dazai leaned back,starring up at the gallery ceiling.

“I admit,I was concerned for a second there when the signal cut out.But they scraped by quite nicely.” “Mhh.Dazai,if I may ask…Why put them together?Your two protégés,of all people?”

Dazai smiled,turning to look at the old man again.

“Simple.To make a new Double Black.”

Rarely had Hirotsu ever seemed shocked,so the expression that followed was a pleasant surprise.His lips were parted,eyes wide.

He composed himself quickly though and took one of his cigarette’s,lighting it as elegantly as he always had.He took a long drag,allowing Dazai to continue on in the silence.

“They balance one another out well.Offense and defense,but their abilities are far more versatile than either mine or Chuuya’s were.That’ll make them stronger than we were back in the day.”

Tossing his cigarette  into a nearby trash can with shocking precision,Hirotsu crossed his arms,expression vaguely worried.

“Is there a reason you enacted this now of all times?” “…Something big is coming,Hirotsu.Big and terrible and I want them to be ready for it.For Yokohama to be ready.”

He didn’t know what that anemic rat was up to but whatever it was,Dazai wasn’t gonna be caught unawares or unprepared.

Luckily,with his and Ranpo’s smarts combined,likelihood was they’d know the details of the whole thing soon enough.

“If that thing you’re referring to is the demon of the North,I’ll be happy to inform you that you and our boss are refreshingly on the same page regarding that topic.”

Chuuya was still…He supposed he should’ve assumed.Hirotsu was a well composed man,but not enough to be completely stoic in the face of something like Chuuya’s death.

Dazai was already surprised so all he had to do now was fake relief,which came easily enough.

“Glad to hear he’s well.I was worried since he seemed to hang up so suddenly during our last conversation.” “Well is a stretch.Ace tried to kill him.” “Oh.”

Dazai paused for a moment,humming in acknowledgement before shrugging oh so casually.

“He has always hated Chuuya,so can’t say I’m too surprised.Or surprised at all.What method did he try?Poison,knife,choking Chuuya with his own two hands?” “Gun,actually.”

Dazai snorted,smoothly covering up his annoyance at Ace’s incompetence.That was one of the most basic things to know about Chuuya.Bullets don’t do shit to him!How hard was it to remember something like that!?

“Idiot.Anyone with two brain cells to rub together would know better.”

Hirotsu lit another cigarette and sat himself down next to Dazai.

“Then maybe you should’ve hired somebody more competent.”

Dazai blinked.

“What?” “He said you were the one who put him up to it.” “And you believe him,do you?” “It’s less my trust in him and more my knowledge of you.” “And what knowledge would that be?” “Of your pettiness,your rashness,your desperate need to beat and best Chuuya since the day you met…Need I go on?”

Ok,then…Well,that’s unfortunate.Dazai leaned back,narrowing his eyes at the man.

“So you know.Alright then,are you going to kill me here or just wait for a more convenient time?Because either way,it won’t turn out well for your organization once the Agency finds my corpse.” “I’m not going to kill you,Dazai,I’m merely here to warn you.”

Dazai scoffed.

“A threat?Hardly much better,but I’ll take it.” “Repeat this and the entire mafia will be on your back.We will find a way to explain it away to the ADA so you won’t even have them to avenge you.” “Big talk.Wonder if you lot will be able to back it up.”

They glared at one another for a moment,Hirotsu putting out his cigarette right next to Dazai’s hand.

“Don’t make us do so.”

Dazai considered biting back again,but thought better of it,moving his hand away.

“May I ask something?”Hirotsu asked “…Do I have a choice?” “Why do this,Dazai?To Chuuya of all people?What did he do to you to deserve it?”

Dazai blinked at him,genuinely taken aback.

“…Some people just aren’t cut out for certain things,Hirotsu.I,for example,would be a terrible life coach.Chuuya,with his impulsiveness and short fuse would be a terrible leader.” “So you attempt to kill him?” “Unfortunately he’s too stubborn to remove himself peacefully.” “Is that all?”

No.Not even close.There were so many small things…That affair with Ousei,the freeing of Q as soon as he became boss almost as if to spit straight into Dazai’s face,the fact Dazai was nothing more than insurance in their fight with Lovecraft…

But in the grand scheme…

“He chose to sit where his father did.And I chose what to do about it.” “And will you choose to make that mistake again?”

However many times it takes to kill Chuuya.

“No,I’d have to be an idiot to keep trying an already failed plan.”

Previous fic part <— First overall AU info post

[bornonthelake]

pro tip: do not listen to time’s blur on vinyl unless you are ready to bawl your eyes out it’s too much

[cuteniaarts]

Fanny, my sweet, beautiful girl

17.11.2012 – 14.04.2019

[fastandcarlos]

Bump Cuddles : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: watching you pregnant is a dream for max, especially with your bump there on offer for him to always snuggle up to

His eyes landed on you as soon as you walked into your bedroom, Max’s smile turned up as he watched you close the door behind you, knowing that was you for the night. You placed your phone down before perching on the edge of the bed, slowly rolling onto your back and stretching out. 

As you reached up, the material of your pyjama shirt lifted up, revealing your babu bump. “Look at you,” Max chuckled, instinctively moving towards you and placing his hand on your exposed skin. 

“This thing is lethal these days,” you chuckled, relaxing under the pressure of the warmth of Max’s hand. “I could do some serious damage if I wanted to with this thing.” 

“Tell me about it,” Max chuckled, all too familiar with being on the receiving end of you barging him forgetting how much space you now needed to get around. “Just think, there’s only a few more weeks to go until you won’t have this anymore.” 

“I can’t wait,” you laughed as Max turned his frame around so that his head was resting just beside your bump too. “The bump might look nice, but it’s the most impractical thing in the world.” 

With your bump growing day by day, you were finding it harder and harder to manage. Max was struggling to sit back and watch you, knowing that there was very little that he could do to help you. He did as much as he could, more than enough as far as you were concerned, but he still felt as if he could do more. 

“This is the stage that I’ve looked forward to the most,” Max admitted, brushing his hand over the surface of your bump, pushing your shirt up. “It’s so cuddly and the size of it too, no matter what you’re doing, or wearing, it just looks incredible.” 

As your bump became more prominent, Max’s excitement grew. He was glued to your side whenever he was around you, his hands couldn’t get enough of feeling your bump and the little movements of your son who was wriggling around inside. 

“Do you need anything?” Max asked you, realising that you were settling for the night. “Can I get you anything to make you more comfortable?” 

Your head shook in reply to Max. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt properly comfortable, but you were settled at least for now. Max was used to you being pretty restless, happy to do whatever he needed to do to help you whenever you needed to shuffle. 

“Let me know if you change your mind,” he added, reminding you once again that he was there for you, offering you a sympathetic smile as your eyes met his. 

Your hand came down, brushing through Max’s hair as he made himself comfortable to lay down beside your bump for a little while. “I think he must know that you’re home as he’s been kicking around a lot more than usual today.” 

“Has he?” Max excitedly asked, quickly moving his hand around wondering whether he could feel one for himself, having missed the feeling of your baby’s kicks during his weekend away racing in Qatar. 

You could only chuckle at the excitement on Max’s face, searching and searching for that sweet spot. He made no secret of the fact that feeling your son’s kicks was his favourite part of your pregnancy, every single time excited him as if it was the very first time he’d felt it.  

“What are you going to cuddle when the baby arrives?” You teased. 

“I might actually have to cuddle you again, not your bump.” 

When you first fell pregnant your bump baffled Max, he couldn’t believe how you had a little human growing inside. Now though, he couldn’t imagine the last few months without it, cuddling up to it had become a habit for Max without him even realising he was nearing it most of the time. 

“Sometimes I feel as if I’ve forgotten what you look like without your bump,” he laughed, continuing to move his hand around in search of a sign. 

You nodded in agreement with Max, having forgotten what your feet looked like having been unable to see them for quite a few weeks. “I think my body will be glad when what’s growing in the bump is on the outside, not the inside causing me any pain.” 

“Are you in pain now?” Max nervously asked, immediately panicking. His doubtful eyes looked at you as your head shook, but trusted you all the same. 

Max had always done a good job of taking care of you, but your pregnancy had introduced you to a whole new world with max. Protective was an understatement to describe how he treated you from the moment he found out you were pregnant. 

“I’m scared you know,” Max suddenly whispered, “our son will be tiny, I’m scared when I cuddle him out of your bump I’ll squash him or something.” 

You couldn't help but laugh as Max spoke, “you’ve had plenty of experience holding babies and you’ve managed not to squash any of them.” 

“But they weren’t mine,” he added, “I’ll give them an extra cuddle knowing that he’s mine.” 

Your hand continued to brush through his hair, “trust me, if you look like you’re going to crush our son then I’ll be sure to let you know.” 

The way his mind worked fascinated you, especially as Max seemed to overthink everything. He wanted every little thing to be perfect and would stop at nothing to make sure that it was. Every possible scenario had been considered by Max, even those that seemed completely out of the ordinary. 

“I think once the baby is here you’ll forget about me,” you joked, “you’ll only want to cuddle our son rather than cuddle up to me.” 

Max’s eyes were wide as he tilted them up to look at you. “There’s no way that I’ll ever forget about you, with these broad shoulders I’ll be able to hold the two of you without any problems at all.” 

“You know I’m only messing with you,” you replied, surprised by how serious Max was as he responded to you. 

“I’ll cuddle you more than ever once the baby is here,” Max assured you, moving his hand from your bump to rest against the top of yours. “I’ll cuddle you forever in appreciation for all that you’re about to put your body through in order to make our family complete.” 

As the two of you fell silent, you quickly grabbed Max’s hand placing it against your bump. Luckily for him, you got it there just in time as your son kicked out exactly where the palm of Max’s hand rested. 

“There he is,” Max chuckled, snuggling in closer to your bump, savouring the feeling of your baby letting you know that he was there. 

“That’s the hardest he’s kicked all day,” you breathed, taking a deep breath through the discomfort. “Obviously he’s very happy to have his daddy home too.” 

Max’s eyes studied you closely, “only a couple more weeks and you’ll be able to rest in peace again sweetheart, without all these interruptions.” 

“Are you forgetting the fact that we’ll have a screaming baby instead who will happily keep us up all night long Max?” 

“Let’s just forget about that for now,” he sniggered. 

Your head nodded in agreement, “I don’t know about you, but I’d quite like to make the most of these last few weeks with our bump.” 

“Me too,” Max smirked, “I’ve not got long left to cuddle this bump of yours, and I’m determined to make the most of it.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[marvelouslizzie]

Pretty Little Thing - co-written with @notafunkiller

Summary: Your long-time crush, Bucky Barnes, is a regular at the bar where you work, and tonight, it's impossible to avoid serving him for the first time.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: +18, alcohol, oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 3.8K

A/N: @notafunkiller and I merged our separate ideas into one and this is the outcome. It was so much fun to write. We hope it'll me the same while reading too.

All work is ours, please do not repost or translate without our permission.

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message us. Unless it’s hate. That’s never welcome.

You thought this night would be calm and easy, that nothing significant would happen. All that changed when Bucky Barnes set foot in the bar. It’s not his first time here by any means, but until now you successfully managed to avoid him by asking the other bartender to serve his side. This time, unfortunately, you are working alone. It’s a slow night, so there’s no way you can really avoid him.

You watch him find an empty place and sit down, and you really don’t know what to do. You can feel yourself sweating already. You are so nervous. Not because you are afraid of him or anything. He doesn’t look scary. Not to you. You are afraid to embarrass yourself in front of him, but you should be able to ask for his order and serve it without messing it up. That’s not so hard. 

Just keep it simple, you tell yourself.

“Hey, what can I get you?”

Bucky looks up from his phone straight into your eyes, and you freeze a little.

“Hello, do you... a draft beer, please.”

His answer confuses you. That’s not his usual order. 

“You sure you don’t want something stronger? We have that bourbon.” You curse yourself internally for paying attention and not being able to hold your tongue.

He raises his eyebrow surprised. “How do you know that? There is no way you served me any drinks cause I would remember you.”

He frowns as soon as he finishes speaking. Maybe you helped your colleague or maybe you were informed about what he drinks just in case he showed up. He’s still the Winter Soldier after all.

“I never served you before.” You say with a shy smile. You hope this is enough of an answer for him.

“Do I look like a bourbon man?” He asks playfully before giving you a smile that transforms his face a little, softening his features. 

“You look like you enjoy quality stuff, and between you and me, our draft beer is shitty.”

That comment makes him chuckle. You’re so distracted by his face that you don’t notice how his eyes fall straight to your breasts.

“Thanks for the tip. Normal beer then?”

“If you insist.” You smile and open the small fridge under the bar where you keep some of the beers. You quickly open it and put it right in front of him, not realizing that gesture shows off your bartender skills a little bit.

He doesn’t look away from you as he takes a big sip before placing the bottle on the table quickly.

“For how long have you been working here?”

“For the past year.” You avoid making eye contact while drying some of the freshly washed glasses.

“Oh.” He sounds kind of taken aback. “I’m surprised you never served me. I’ve been coming here for what? Seven months?”

“Eight.” You bite your bottom lip as soon as the word slips out, trying to shut yourself up so you won’t mess up even more. What were you thinking? Well, you weren't…

His eyes immediately glow, and you wonder if you fucked up for good.

“So you’ve been keeping an eye on me?” He brings the bottle to his mouth and before you can say anything, you watch him finishing it in one go.

“I just noticed you.” Of course, you kept an eye on him, but you played it down a little.

“Well, I didn’t notice you,” he says regretfully. “And I wonder how. I am pretty aware of my surroundings... especially if they are full of beautiful people like you.”

You can’t help but blush, yet you try to sound unaffected. You don’t know if you succeed or not, though.

“This place is usually so crowded and full of… people. So it’s normal.”

“Neah,” he denies immediately. “Have you been hiding or something?”

“I was just on the other side of the bar.” And you were trying to hide from him, saving yourself from this embarrassment because you knew if you talked to him you would fuck up. You were right.

“So I was on the wrong side this whole time.” He shakes his head. “Another beer, please, doll.”

“The same?” You ask while trying not to dwell on the pet name he uses.

“Yes, please. And one drink for you. Whatever you want, if you are allowed to drink, of course.”

The way he offers to buy you a drink surprises you. You feel quite nervous, but you try to maintain your calm. He’s probably just being nice, right? 

“I am allowed to drink, but that’s not necessary.”

He pouts. “I didn’t mean you need to talk to me for it, doll. There are no conditions for this drink.”

“Oh.” You didn’t even think he would take it this way. “That’s not why I said it’s not necessary. I wasn’t worried about that.”

“Okay. Whatever you want... I won’t insist.”

“It’s just… I am allowed to drink whatever I want. You don’t need to pay for it.” You try to explain so he won’t take it the wrong way.

“Alright,” he says, a little distant, as you open up another bottle of beer and put it in front of him. 

“I just didn’t want you to pay extra when I can get it for free.” You don’t know why you are explaining yourself like this. It’s normal not to accept drinks from customers.

“It’s fine, I totally understand. Thank you!” He reaches for the bottle immediately.

You take a fancy glass out of the rack and pour yourself one of the ready-to-serve cocktails that your colleague prepared, right in front of him. He doesn’t say anything as he keeps staring at your hands.

“Thanks for the drink.” You say while putting the bottle away.

“Me?” He asks surprised. “Thought this is on the bar.”

“Well, you gave me the idea, and if you really insist on spending your money so unnecessarily, who am I to stop you?”

“That’s a good attitude.” He smiles again before bringing his bottle close to your glass. “Cheers to a good Thursday in a lovely company.”

You clink your glass with a smile on your face. It seems like he finally understood your intention, so you feel relieved. 

“How does that taste?”

“Don’t let the color fool you, it tastes really strong but delicious.” You look at him for a second and notice that got his interest. “Wanna taste it?” You offer your own drink to him, and he contemplates for a few seconds before leaning in.

“Yes, I am curious.”

You hand the glass to him. Your fingers touch for a second, and you get so excited that you worry about dropping the glass. It’s like your heart is in your throat.

“Your hands are cold,” he comments casually before taking a sip right from the spot covered by your lipstick. You gasp. You have no idea if he did it on purpose, but the way he’s drinking it… your body is responding to that so much. You clear your throat, trying to calm yourself down. 

“Delicious.” He smiles, handing back your glass, and you notice a bit of lipstick in the corner of his mouth.

It creates this internal dilemma. Should you just let him know about it or act like nothing happened and let him walk around like this? The second one could cause him a lot of embarrassment, and you don’t wanna be the reason for that. That’s why you suddenly find yourself leaning closer to him, just to wipe the lipstick off. He doesn’t move an inch, not jumping like you would expect, letting you touch him. When you realize what you are doing, you suddenly feel super self-conscious. 

“You…” You gulp down. “You have… lipstick on… just here.” 

You keep rubbing your finger against the corner of his mouth. You feel his stubble and how soft his lips are, but you try not to think about it. He chuckles, covering your hand with his. It surprises you so much that you freeze for a second. Then you look into his eyes, struggling to see if you made him feel uncomfortable or not.

“So considerate of you. Thank you.”

You move your hand away from his mouth but not away from his touch. Somehow you can’t find the strength to do that. 

What he does next, though, makes you completely breathless. He brings your hand to his mouth again, but this time he presses his lips gently against your skin, smiling right after. Your eyes open with surprise, feeling completely speechless, yet you don’t move away. You don’t even realize you are smiling slightly.

“Your hands are still so cold.”

“Yeah…” You try to speak, but it feels like your words are stuck in your throat. “They are always cold.”

“We need to change that.” He places another kiss on your hand.

*

He’s surprisingly nervous as he leads you to the living room. Based on his confidence back in the bar, you didn’t expect him to become so shy all of a sudden.

“Do you want some coffee?”

“No.” You answer quickly. The only thing you want is to feel his lips again but you keep that thought to yourself.

“What do you want then?” 

It’s obvious in his tone and the way he looks at you he doesn’t ask you about drinks.

“You.” You can’t believe you said this out loud, but it’s the truth.

He doesn’t need another push as he comes closer, grabbing you by the chin. Your lips crash together with an almost desperate hunger. He takes the opportunity immediately, getting his tongue inside your mouth in a fervent exploration. The sensation is electrifying.

You let him explore your mouth while you focus on his taste. It’s so unique and tasty, you just can’t get enough of it. Your hands slowly move toward the back of his head, pulling him closer.

“Fuck,” he groans when he feels your touch, breaking the kiss just to move his lips to your neck. 

“Mhmm… James.” His lips feel so good against your neck. It just sends a jolt of arousal through your body.

But then he freezes, with his mouth glued to your neck. You open your eyes confused wanting to ask him what happened, and that’s when you realize what you’ve just said.

“You know who I am?” His voice is a warm whisper against your skin.

“Of course, I know who you are.” You make it sound so natural as if there’s no way you wouldn’t know who he is. “You think I go to the houses of men I don’t know?” You say playfully.

“I didn’t mean that...” He raises his head from the crook of your neck just to look you in the eye. “I didn’t mean it offensively, I just wasn’t sure. I’m just stupid, I didn’t expect it.”

“I know who you are, James Bucky Barnes.”

“Fuck,” he groans, bringing his thumb to your bottom lip. “Say it again.”

“James Bucky Barnes or just James?”

He kisses you more desperately than before, his hands finding your hips as he gently grabs them, pulling you so close that you can feel his erection. You gasp so softly, but he hears it anyway, and you settle on his hard cock so it’s right against where you want it to be.

He moans. “Let’s go to the bedroom, doll.”

“Why?” You ask innocently as if you don’t know what he means. “Isn’t your couch comfortable enough?”

For him? Sure. But for you?

“The bed is better.”

“Okay.” You sound so obedient suddenly as you wrap your legs around his torso.

He immediately lifts you up without effort, and you smile, letting him carry you toward his room. He’s a super soldier after all. He closes the door with his foot as soon as you’re inside, then he gently puts you on the bed, like he’s afraid you might break. The way he’s acting is so endearing, but you want him to let go really badly. Even the manner he starts to take off your pants is too gentle.

You let him undress you the way he wants, though. Then you move closer to him, taking his clothes off, your movements not as gentle as his. You are impatient and needy. You see him holding his breath when you reach to touch his chest, close to where his metal arm begins, so you lean in to leave a kiss right there. You don’t know if you are crossing a line, but you have to. He should know that this is not something that would bother you, on the contrary, it turns you on even more. When he doesn’t move away from you, you keep kissing around his scars and his chest. Your hand is on his shoulder, gently caressing.

 “That feels so good, doll,” he says with a sigh before he grabs your waist. “but it's time for me to eat.”

You find yourself on your back so suddenly that you don’t even have time to react. He quickly settles between your legs and you understand exactly what he meant. He lifts them enough so you can rest them on his shoulders as he gets more comfortable on his tummy. You feel a hole in your stomach immediately. You can’t believe Bucky is between your thighs, about to eat you out.

He’s taking his sweet time at first, kissing down your thighs and even smelling you before he finally brings his tongue to your entrance.

“Come on, James. Don’t tease me.” You look down just to see him smiling.

“Why not? You seem to enjoy it.”

“I would enjoy it more if you stopped teasing and started eating.”

Surprisingly, Bucky doesn’t waste more time and properly starts to fuck you with his tongue. He’s not too quick, nor too slow with his moves, and you’re shocked when he brings his fingers to your mouth. 

“Need you to make them wet for me, please.” Even while saying that, he sounded a little too polite.

“On one condition,” you say, looking directly into his eyes. “Stop acting like I am made of glass.”

“But you kinda are.”

“I am not. Believe me.”

He says nothing, making sure to lick your slit before getting his tongue inside you again, his fingers, glued to your lips. You take it as a silent agreement and you open your mouth, suck his fingers, and let him wet them. When he thinks it’s enough, he gently takes them out and brings them right to your clit. He doesn’t touch it directly at first, teasing around it until you move your hips a little, needing to feel your clit stimulated.

“Please.” The way he’s taking his sweet time is so frustrating.

He lets his hand drop and instead of feeling his fingers on your clit, you feel his tongue at the same time he gets a finger inside you. You moan loudly, finally getting what you wanted from the start.

His other hand reaches for yours when he hears you grabbing the sheet, and you immediately hold it, enjoying how his cold metal feels. When you feel the second finger and he scissors both of them inside you, you’re shocked by how close you suddenly are. You can’t help but arch your back and move your hips, needing it faster.

He reads the signals pretty quickly and lets you use his mouth while he keeps pumping his fingers. It doesn’t take long for you to gasp, moan, and start to shake because of the pleasure he’s giving you. 

“James! Shit. I’m- gonna… ahh… come.”

You moan louder than you expected, dropping your head against his sheets, possessed by a great wave of pleasure. You want to tell him not to stop anything, but you can’t. And you don’t need to as he keeps licking and fingering you while you ride your orgasm out, prolonging it as much as possible.

When it’s done, you are feeling so good yet you are hungry for more. You raise your head a little and see Bucky still between your legs, but this time his beard is covered with your slick. He looks so handsome. His blue eyes are shining and his hair is all messy. It makes you wanna kiss him and that’s exactly what you do. You reach down to him, and he meets you in the middle, kissing you the way he was just eating you out: with passion and hunger.

He’s less gentle than before as you feel his hands grabbing your breasts, but it’s still not enough. You cover his hands with yours and push him to grab them harder than before. You let out a muffled moan while kissing him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You find yourself blushing like you two aren’t having sex. To mask your reaction, you reach out to his hard cock, gently grabbing it.

“Oh god,” he groans as he instinctively squeeze your breasts harder.

“Mhmm, yes.” You lean into his touch. “Just like that.”

Bucky looks at you as if you said something shocking. Is he not used to communicating during sex?

“What? Did I do something wrong?”

“You’re surprising me for someone so delicate.”

“I told you, I am not.”

He smiles. “Do you wanna help me put on a condom then?”

“I would love to, but…” You smile. “What if I told you I am clean and on the pill?”

“Fuck, I need you.” He kisses you suddenly. “Now.”

“I am right here.” It sounds so calming. “You can take me however you want.”

You’re not only on your back in the next second, but you also have his cock lined up at your entrance.

“Jesus, doll! For a pretty little thing, you’re quite nasty.”

“I just know what I want.” And this is it.

He nods, wrapping your legs around his ass at the same time he pushes inside you. In a second, your head is thrown back while you moan loudly. The way he fills you is so delicious. It makes you feel so full but not uncomfortable.

“You’re taking me so well already.”

“Please…” You raise your hips to create more friction. “Please, move.”

He brings his mouth to your breast a little before he starts thrusting, making sure to leave a small hickey right on top of it. It hurts so good, and you moan without holding back. It is music to Bucky’s ears. He just wants to hear it again, so he does it again.

“You want it rough, don’t you?” He thrusts harder than before. “You’re so needy.”

“Yeah.” Your voice is so shaky already. “I told you already.”

“Told me what?” He teases. “I don’t remember.”

“That I am not made of glass.”

“No, you are made for me.” He brings his hand to your face to move the hair strands that cover your eyes. “For my cock.”

“In that case…” You don’t know where the sudden rush of confidence comes from. “You are made for me. To fill me up.” You move your hips again, trying to fuck yourself on him.

“Oh, god. You’re so fucking wet,” he moans. “I am, I’m gonna fill you up so much.” He kisses you suddenly, your teeth almost crashing together because of the thrusts, but you don’t care.

“Can’t wait.” You tease him. “Don’t hold back, okay?”

He says nothing, letting his head drop a little so he can suck on your neck properly. He’s definitely fucking you harder. He pulls until he’s almost completely out of you before thrusting inside you again. And again. And again. It takes your breath away. The way it makes you feel is indescribable. You lose the little remaining control you had and just turn into a moaning mess. 

“Say my name, baby. C-come on.”

“James?” You sound hesitant even if you don’t mean to because you don’t know which name he wants to hear.

“Again,” he begs, his metal arm on your leg pushing it right against his ass.

“James!” This one comes out so naturally. No questions, no hesitation. You just breathe out his name with a moan.

“God, you look so beautiful. So pretty with my cock inside you.” His thrusts get faster, and you have no idea how he can speak so well while you’re a mess.

“I’m so close,” you can barely say without taking a breath in the middle of the sentence.

“What do you want?”

“Just… harder.”

“Like this?” He asks, suddenly thrusting a little harder than before. “Or like this?”

“This! Yes! Just like this!”

“You just want it hard.” He whispers against your ear. “What a dirty girl.”

You hear him, but you can’t respond. You are too busy coming all over his cock, and it feels like you are in heaven. He continues to fuck you as the pleasure fades away, murmuring how pretty you are and how good you make him feel before he comes, too, grabbing the bedpost behind you with his metal arm. It makes a clicking sound, but you don’t care, opening your still foggy eyes just to watch him.

There’s so much come. You can already feel it dripping out of you as he keeps fucking you. You expect it to end soon, but it doesn’t. It goes on and on. The way he loses control as he comes just triggers another orgasm out of you. You would be surprised how quickly you could come again if it didn’t feel overwhelmingly good. You can’t think about anything other than him and the way he makes you feel.

His come is getting all over your thighs and ass, and the bed, as he moans. “Kakaya khoroshaya devochka.” What a good girl.

You can’t help but laugh despite not understanding a word of what he says. “Is that Russian?”

He opens his eyes, and the blue you love is almost completely grey. “Yes.” He sounds confused, too. 

“What does it mean?” Your afterglow can’t overshadow your curiosity. “If you don’t tell me, this isn’t happening again.” You try to make it obvious you aren’t serious with your playful tone. Especially not after those orgasms.

“Look at you, little and feisty, blackmailing me.” He chuckles before leaving a kiss on your lips. “I told you what a good girl you are. I didn’t realize I spoke in Russian.”

You laugh a little. “Say it again.” You give him the cutest look. “Please?”

“Ty moya khoroshaya devochka.” He repeats softly. You’re my good girl.

You don’t even realize how content you look as you keep smiling.

“Now, I can get used to that.”

“Say my name again, please.”

You love the neediness in his voice. “James?” You tilt your head a little. “Or would you prefer Bucky?”

“Fuck, it doesn’t matter.” His thumb is suddenly on your lips. “I can get used to that, too.”

[daloy-politsey]

“They’re trying to discharge her constructively. Do you know what Constructive Discharge means?” She asked.

As soon as I heard the term ‘Constructive Discharge,’ I knew I’d never seen it on a vocabulary quiz.

“No. What does it mean?” I asked.

She explained.

“Constructive discharge is a fancy way of saying “being forced out.” It’s not good. And if you’re not a lawyer or in human resources, you’ll probably learn what it means when it’s happening to you.”

“Oh my God. I’ve seen this my entire career and never knew it even had a name.” I thought.

You’ve seen constructive Discharge too. You may have experienced it. We’ve all made choices to avoid it.

Constructive discharge defined

“We can’t fire you, but we’ll make you so miserable you’ll quit, and then we won’t have to pay your unemployment.”

Then there’s the textbook definition:

“A constructive discharge occurs when your employer has made working conditions unbearable, forcing you to resign.”

Or as one person put it.

“I didn’t get handed a pink slip, but when you’re not wanted, people have a way of letting you know.”

HR isn’t always the secret police.

Employees aren’t always victims of evil-doers.

However, employers push employees out all the time to maintain and protect the, “We didn’t do anything wrong, YOU did,” power structure.

Constructive Discharge looks like this:

— Meeting invitations slow to a trickle, and you’re excluded from emails and generally looped out of what’s going on.

— People stop talking to you or stop talking when you walk in.

— Your emails don’t get answers, or they arrive too late to be of value.

— Suddenly, your work is not good enough, though nothing about your work has changed.

— Reviews, once good or even glowing, are now mediocre or bad.

— Instead of a bonus, you get a Performance Improvement Plan.

— Warnings and write-ups start so they can justify your eventual termination with documentation of your “poor performance”

— Your work, clients, assignments go away, or they overwhelm you with work.

— The words “Set up to fail” were practically invented to describe this scenario.

Constructive Discharge is illegal

It isn’t easy to prove you’re a target, and it’s even more challenging if you don’t even know constructive discharge is a real thing.

If you’ve ever experienced this and don’t fully understand what’s happening to you beyond knowing you’re in the process of being excommunicated, it can be hell. It’s not uncommon for the experience to leave long-lasting scars.

Talk to anyone who’s ever been through it. They’ll tell you.

Knowing constructive discharge exists and how it’s used gives you power to predict what’s coming and to protect yourself.

Seeing the endgame helps you in two ways.

You know what to expect. Having a sense of what’s coming next is enormously empowering. You can go on the offensive and protect yourself. Constructive discharge works to crush your ego, making you feel you did something wrong and deserve this treatment.

Without strategy, you end up being a miserable pawn in your employer’s endgame.

Remember, they’re almost certainly building a case to fire you in the event the hellscape they create for you doesn’t persuade you to quit.

If you’re getting pushed out, and you know what to look for you can prove constructive discharge and you can get unemployment benefits, be released from payback obligations on a signing bonus, and protect your mental health.

You’re not crazy, incompetent, or a failure. This is real and it’s carefully executed to leave you holding the bag and feeling like you did something wrong.

If they force you out, in addition to feeling horrible, you lose your paycheck, benefits health insurance, and possibly owe them money.

[augustinewrites]

does gojo ever freak out or worry ab reader when she’s alone on missions? obviously she can handle herself & knows what she’s doing, but he gives the vibes that he’d be internally panicking 😭

“hey, welcome back!” gojo grins, quickly shoving a half melted spatula to the bottom of the trash can. 

“hi,” you murmur, tipping the bill of your cap down as you close the door behind you. odd. he doesn’t think he’s seen you wear a hat before. 

“how was it?” he asks, flicking off the stove and closing in to welcome you properly with a kiss. well, he attempts to. you immediately take a step back, avoiding his embrace. he definitely doesn’t remember a time you’ve ever done that.

“i’m all sweaty,” you tell him, toeing your boots off and heading straight toward the bedroom. you say hello to the kids before shutting the door, the lock clicking into place. 

“are you mad at me?” he asks as soon as he warps into the room.

“satoru!” you startle, staggering back into the door. “get out!”

“nope,” he hums, closing in on you. “we sleep in the same room and you know that i don’t respect boundaries.” 

with that, he reaches over and pulls the baseball cap off your head. 

“satoru, please don’t freak out—”

he freaks out. 

he grabs your chin so you can’t turn away, inspecting the sutures lining your temple. “this is deep! are you okay? why were you hiding it from me?”

you swat his hand away, frowning. “i’m fine, and i wasn’t hiding it. i just didn’t want the kids to see. speaking of, did you guys eat dinner yet?”

“what grade curse was it?”

“special. i thought i smelled something burning—”

“you’re only grade one. why would they—”

“only grade one?” you repeat with a scoff. “don’t say it like that. you know the only reason i’m not special grade is because the zenin’s—”

“because the zenin’s are holding you back until you join them. they’re dicks, babe. that’s old news,” he finishes, tapping his foot impatiently. 

“listen,” you tell him, pinching the bridge of your nose. “i just didn’t get out of the way fast enough. it’s just a cut. i’ve had worse.” 

“well, next time they call you up for assignment, i’m coming with you,” he decides. “we’ll get a sitter for the kids and make it like a date night.”

“whoa,” you interrupt. “you’re inviting yourself on my assignments now? “do you think i’m not good enough?”

“well when you come home hurt, yeah!” 

he regrets it as soon as he says it. 

and he hates the way you’re looking at him. you’re hurt, and it shows. “wow. thanks for the vote of confidence.” 

“hey…”

he says your name, reaching for your hand, but you pull away, shaking your head.

_____

freshly showered and changed, you pull your robe on, exiting the bathroom. gojo’s sitting on the bed, waiting with his head in his hands.

“you know i think you’re more than capable,” he says quietly. “i wasn’t making a dig at your skill. you’re incredible.” 

“i know,” you hum, dumping your uniform into the basket. 

he looks up at you, apologetic. “but if anything happened to you, and you were really hurt…it would be my fault.”

“that’s not true,” you say quickly, sitting beside him. 

“it is,” he insists. “and i could never forgive myself, because i’m supposed to be the strongest.” 

(and what’s the point of being the strongest if he couldn’t protect the people he loved most?)

“satoru,” you murmur, smoothing a hand across his back. “you have such a big heart. i’m dating you because of your heart— well, mostly your abs but also your heart. ou already take on so much for everyone. and i need you to trust that i can’t take care of myself. i don’t want to be another burden to you.”

wordlessly, he takes your hand and presses it to his chest, so you can feel his heartbeat. 

“you are my whole heart. if i lost you and i could have stopped it, like i could’ve stopped—” he purses his lips, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “i just can’t lose you.” 

“and you won’t,” you promise, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “now let’s go have dinner.”

“ah. about that….”

_____

“alright, dinner’s served!”

you the kids exchange a look.

megumi leans close to you, whispering, “can we get sick from this?”

“go on,” satoru encourages, picking up his own sandwich. “it’s a spam sandwich! i used to eat these all the time before i met—”

“you’re really lucky you met her,” the twelve year old grumbles, peeling the bread back to look at the burnt piece of spam.

tsumiki, ever the people pleaser, takes a bite and chews very thoroughly before swallowing with great effort.

“um…the smoke added a nice hickory flavour to the spam.”

“okay, we’re getting pizza,” you decide, shooting your boyfriend an apologetic look.

[moonstruckme]

request for Remus x reader, or poly!marauders x reader - A reader who seems more dominant in everyday life (managing group projects, generally independent, being a leader, etc.) maybe she's an older sibling or has parents that aren't all that responsible so she's had to take on that role.

But she settles into a more submissive energy with her partner(s) because she feels safe to do so, and lets them take charge. sorry if that's too specific! I hope it makes sense

no stress if this isn't your jam <3

Soft dom Rem you will always be famous <3 Thanks for requesting lovely!

modern au

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 651 words

“No, yeah, I think that’s a good idea.” You flash your boyfriend a terse smile as you come in the door, phone held between your face and your shoulder. Remus steps forward to take your bag from you, and you mouth a thanks as you set down your keys. “That sounds like it would work fairly easily with my current plan, I wouldn’t mind incorporating that. No—of course—no worries, I appreciate your help.”

Remus starts to ease you out of your jacket, and it’s a struggle to keep from sighing at the casual care in his touch as you continue talking to the person on the other line. “Okay, are you free to meet on Thursday to finalize things?” You listen. Nod. “Perfect. I’ll get in contact with the others and figure out a time that works.” 

Remus hangs your jacket over a chair and goes to sit on the couch, motioning for you to follow. You make a gesture for one second and take your planner from your bag, grabbing a pen and taking the cap off with your teeth. “So you definitely can’t do after four? No, that’s cool, I’m just making sure.” You scribble down a couple of time ranges. “I’ll get back to you with what the others say. Okay, thanks! Talk soon.” 

You end the call with a sigh, leaving your planner faceup on the table so you’ll remember to call the others later. Remus waits until you’re looking at him before patting his thigh. 

Something unravels in you as you walk over to him obediently, settling yourself in his lap. 

“Hi,” you say, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck and laying your head on his shoulder. 

“Hi.” A bit of bemusement makes its way into Remus’ tone at your obvious relief. He rests a hand on the small of your back. “Long day, sweetheart?” 

You hum. “Not bad. I just have this headache that won’t go away, so that made it feel longer.” 

Remus tuts, his other hand coming up to cup the back of your head protectively. “Why’s that, hm?” 

“Dunno,” you exhale, snuggling into him. “It’s getting better already, though.” 

“Hm.” He sounds dissatisfied. A second later, he’s holding you securely to his back, tipping you both forward as he reaches for the coffee table. You hear ice clinking. “Drink this.” 

Reluctantly, you take your face from his shoulder to accept the water bottle. It’s his, nearly full and ice cold. Remus strokes your hair as you sip from it, eyes soft with approval. 

“That’s enough managing people for today,” he says, not unkindly. “You’ve already done most of the work, you can send a text and let them coordinate their own meeting time.” 

You frown, taking your lips from the water bottle. “I would, but they’ll never actually respond if it’s in a group chat. Nobody replies if I don’t message them individually.” 

“They’ll have to figure it out.” He shrugs insouciantly. 

You feel your eyebrows pinch, another argument rising to your tongue, but it evaporates when Remus wraps a long-fingered hand around your jaw. 

He tilts your chin up towards him. “They shouldn’t need you to take care of everything in order for it to get done,” he says sternly. “If they start calling you again tonight, I want you to send them to voicemail. Understand?” 

“Yes,” you reply automatically, and Remus releases your chin as you sigh, letting you ignore the water bottle for a minute so you can fold yourself back into him. 

“Good.” He turns his head into yours, kissing your temple. “You were never going to get rid of this headache if you let them keep pestering you all night, dove. They’re like flies.” You laugh a little, and Remus scratches at your scalp rewardingly. “You can text them in a little bit. Let’s just stay here for a minute, yeah? Try to get you relaxed.”

[coldfanbou]

Waking Up To Something

A little Dubu for you all. She's very sweet here. Also you have no idea how hard it was to go against the slutty student Dubu thoughts that kept creeping in.

Length 2.6K

Dahyun X Mreader

“Wake up! What are you doing? Hurry!” Groggily opening your eyes, you look to the side, and Dahyun shakes you. “We have school! Wake up!”  You try to wave Dahyun off, but she refuses to let you return to your peaceful slumber. Dahyun huffs, seeing that you won’t get up. She straddles you and grabs your shoulders as she shakes you back and forth. “We don’t have time for this!” She whines.

“Mmm, fine.” You grumble, finally sitting up. You shut your eyes for a moment, still sleepy. You feel Dahyun’s weight move off you, and when you open your eyes again, she grabs your clothes from your closet. You look her up and down, seeing her in her school uniform. That’s when you remember that today was the first day of school. With a burst of energy, you get up and shoo Dahyun out of the room, pushing her out while grabbing your pants from her hands.

“Hey!”

“No time; we have school,” you tell her as you rush to put on your uniform. 

Dahyun pounds on the door, “That’s what I tried to tell you!” The door stops shaking, and you hear Dahyun walk away. You finish getting dressed and grab your things before rushing to the front. Dahyun is anxiously tapping her feet, staring at the clock hanging on the far wall. Noticing that you finally came down, she jumps to her feet and grabs your hand, rushing you both out the door and to school. “We’re going to be so late because of you!” She shouts, running as fast as she can. “It’s our first day back, and we’re going to be late!” She says, looking over her shoulder at you, her frustration evident in her voice.

“You could have gone without me!” You shout back, picking up speed and running past her. You grab Dahyun’s hand; it’s her turn to be dragged around. 

“You wouldn’t even know today was the first day if I hadn’t come!” Dahyun tries to keep pace with you, her backpack swinging from side to side. 

“You’re going to slow!” You slow down, waiting for Dahyun to pass you. You pick her up as soon as she does, carrying her bridal style as you continue your mad dash to school. Dahyun smacks you before covering her eyes, embarrassed to be carried around like this. You make it to school and run to your classroom with Dahyun, the bell ringing just before you enter. Both you and Dahyun hang your heads in defeat as the teacher calls you out for being late, but there's also a sense of relief that you made it. Taking your seat next to Dahyun, she quietly scolds you for not waking up earlier. 

During lunch, Dahyun continues, “You do this every year. You don’t realize it's the first day, and we end up coming in late.”

“I told you. You don’t have to wake me up.”

“I do; that’s what a friend does.” Dahyun retorts. “We’ve been friends for years, and you just don’t learn. What do I have to do live with you?” There’s frustration in her voice. You know what you have to do to calm her down. You pull a small piece of chocolate from your pocket and hand it to her. “That’s not enough. I need more,” Dahyun says, staring at you.

“Seriously?” By the look in her eye, she is more than serious. You grab another piece and hand it to her. Dahyun smirks as she unwraps one of the chocolate pieces, munching on it with a big smile. 

“You know what? I’ve decided. I’m going to live with you now. Our parents will be completely fine with it. We’ve known each other for years, after all.” 

“I really don’t want that.” 

“Too bad,” Dahyun says, eating the second chocolate. As the bell rings for the end of lunch, the two of you head back to class. 

At the end of the day, you return home together. You walk into your home, and Dahyun into hers. A few hours go by before you hear the sound of something rolling into the house. As you come downstairs, you see Dahyun with her parents and a couple of suitcases. “You can’t be serious,” you say to her.

“I told you,” she replies. You all sit down and have a conversation, and your parents agree to let Dahyun sleep in the spare room. Dahyun nudges your leg. “I’ll make lots of noise in the morning, so you have to wake up,” she whispers. You don’t feel happy about having Dahyun live with you, thinking of it as unnecessary. 

The first week of living with Dahyun went well enough. It felt odd, but you thought you would get used to it. One morning, you woke up early.  You head to the bathroom, still tired and barely aware of the world around you. Dahyun was on the other side of the bathroom door. You both stood there for a moment, not moving. Your eyes are glued to her body for those few seconds. They move up her body, her pale skin still dripping with the water from her shower. You pass over her pink cunt; with her pale skin, it stands out. As do her nipples that stood at attention, stiff from the room’s cold air. You were getting hard, and Dahyun noticed. The few seconds you had to look at her body ran out. Dahyun covered her body with a towel, and you shut the door, staying on the outside. You told Dahyun how sorry you were before heading to your room.

The rest of the day was awkward between you. When you returned home, Dahyun went straight to her room, not saying a word to you. That night, though, she came to your room, knocking quietly on the door. “Come in,” she said. 

Dahyun opened the door slowly, walking inside without a word and sitting on your bed. Silence reigns over you both. Neither of you wants to say the first word. Then you both speak at once, and you give Dahyun the chance to speak. “I want to talk about this morning.” You nod along, knowing it was a conversation you needed to have. You apologize to Dahyun again and let her continue. “I…noticed that…” Dahyun mulls over her thoughts, clasping her hands together as she figures out what to say. “This isn’t how I wanted to do it, but I feel like I have to.” Dahyun turns to face you. “I like you… romantically.” You’re stunned and confused because you thought Dahyun would never be interested in you like that. Dahyun taps her hands along her leg, taking a deep breath. “I’ve loved you for a long time now, to be honest. It’s the reason I put up with you.” Dahyun says, a nervous smile growing on her. “ I-look, I forgive you for walking in on me this morning. I just want to get even, so you should show me your cock.” She said in a half-joking tone. You could tell Dahyun was trying to avoid the real conversation.

You stand up, stripping naked in front of Dahyun without a word before sitting back down. You notice Dahyun’s body tense up. It’s odd being nude in front of Dahyun, unnatural, but you chose to do it so you could continue without her holding anything against you. As ridiculous as that may sound, it made sense to you, considering you know Dahyun would try to keep the conversation going at that point. “You love me, Dahyun?”

She stumbles over her words; Dahyun is in complete shock that you are naked in front of her. She couldn’t help but look at your cock. Her eyes wander back to it no matter how many times she pries her eyes away. She gives you a nod, gulping as she tries to focus on something else. “I, um, please put your clothes back on. I can’t talk to you otherwise.” Dahyun blurts out, turning her head. You cloth yourself, telling Dahyun she can look. Seeing you fully clothed, Dahyun takes a deep breath. “Okay, now I can talk. I do love you, and I don’t know; after you saw me naked, I sort of felt like I had to confess. I noticed that you got hard, d-did you like my body?” You nod, feeling the heat rush to your face and getting too embarrassed to speak. “I thought so, but it’s not the only reason you like me, right?”

“Dahyun, this is the first time I’ve seen it.” You smack the top of her head lightly. “Of course not. I like you for you, you goofball. Honestly, I never thought you liked me like that. I don’t know where to go from here. What should we do?” 

Dahyun scoots closer, taking your hand in hers. She stares into your eyes, gathering her courage. Silently, she leans in and presses her lips against yours. It feels right, and you both fill it with passion. You push forward, knocking Dahyun onto her back as your kiss continues. She hesitantly wraps her hands around your neck, holding you close as your hands wander to her waist. When you run out of breath, you break the kiss. Your room is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing. Dahyun gulps, bringing herself up for another kiss. “We can go all the way if you want. I trust you.” 

“Are you sure?”

Dahyun nods, a soft smile on her face, “I want you. I want to be with you.” Dahyun moves her hand to her shirt, unbuttoning her pajamas slowly as you remain over her. As the last button slips away, she pulls her shirt apart to reveal her upper body. Seeing your eyes stick to her chest, Dahyun smiles and feels more confident. You lean down, getting closer to her chest. You plant tiny kisses on her mounds; they make Dahyun shudder. She turns her head to the side, making her gasps known before shutting her eyes. Dahyun focuses on the sensations, ingraining in her memory the feel of your hands on her breasts, the way you’re circling her nipple with your thumb. She bites her lip, enjoying the pleasure. 

You stop in your tracks, staring at Dahyun until she opens her eyes. “Why did you stop.”

“I want to know if you really want this.”

Dahyun feels her heart about to beat out of her chest. She wishes you hadn’t asked that question; putting her on the spot scared her as if she was about to make a leap of faith. “I’m sure,” she says softly. Dahyun reaches down, lifting her hips off the bed as beginning to pull off her pajama pants. You help Dahyun, pulling them completely off her. 

The sight of a beautiful woman, much less Dahyun, in your bed, was something you wouldn’t have thought would happen at the beginning of the day, but here she was. She’s left solely in her panties, a pink pair that suited her well. There was a wet spot on them. Dahyun covers her face as you pull her panties down, her heart racing as she bares her body to you again. 

You strip down before climbing over Dahyun. The soft fragrance of her perfume hits you as you stare at her body. You take in every detail, leaving nothing amiss as you grab her thighs and move them further apart. Hesitantly, you rub your between her wet folds, coating it in her nectar. Dahyun grabs one of your pillows, moaning into it. You take the pillow from her, tossing it to the side before cupping her cheeks and kissing her again. Her eyes flutter, and she mutters, “I love you.” You prepare yourself taking a deep breath as you press your cock against her entrance. You look into her eyes as you push in. You take her hands, holding them as you slowly move in; her walls squeeze your cock. You grunt and groan as you bury yourself inside Dahyun. She gasps, feeling you inside her. Dahyun wraps her legs around your waist. “I don’t want you pulling out,” she moans. 

Dahyun wraps her arms around you, holding you against her as you begin moving. Dahyun feels you move; your cock hits deep, making her cry out. Your thrusts begin slow, allowing her to adjust before gaining speed. Soon, you were pistoning in and out of Dahyun, chasing your orgasm. Dahyun bites her lips, trying to stay quiet. “Kiss me, please,” she whines. 

You give her as much, pressing your lips against hers and letting her moan into it. Her walls squeezed you, and you felt her nipples grow hard as they rubbed against your chest. You squeeze her soft thighs, feeling the plump flesh rebound as you move your hands to her breasts. You’re both quickly approaching your climax; your constant thrusts make Dahyun whimper, and her nails dig into your back. You hold the kiss, keeping her cry muffled as your walls clamp down on your cock. The pleasure becomes unbearable, and you find yourself cumming inside Dahyun as she pushes you in deeper with her legs. 

Her walls milk you, coaxing your cum out and funneling it into her womb. When Dahyun’s voice grows quiet, you break the kiss. “You came inside me,” she says with a smile. Dahyun caresses your cheek, a tired look on her face. Too tired to continue, you lay your head on her chest, drifting off to sleep along while still inside her. 

You wake the following morning to the sounds of someone slurping. As you look down at your body, you see Dahyun between her legs, bobbing her head. You let out a moan, signaling to her that you were awake. She pulls back, stroking your shaft with her soft hand, “Good morning, sleepyhead. We have school soon, so you better hurry up.”

“What are you doing?” You ask, enjoying how her hand moves along your shaft.

Dahyun looks down, shy and embarrassed. “I thought you would want me to wake you up like this instead. It’s what a girlfriend would do, right?” Dahyun is looking for approval and a way to mask her desires. 

You play along, nodding. “Yeah, thanks, Dahyun. This is a lot better than shaking me awake.” Dahyun smiles at you and bends over, wrapping her lips around your cock, her tongue clumsily swirling around the tip. She bobs her head slightly, unable to take much in without gagging. Still, it feels good; her warm mouth and tongue bring you to your climax, and you cum. The first few shots hit her tongue and take Dahyun by surprise. She recoils, allowing the last few to spurt onto her face and chest. The sight of Dahyun soiled with your cum arouses you and gets you hard again. 

Dahyun looks down, noticing your cock is still hard. She sighs, but as her eyes meet yours, she smiles. “Be quick, okay?” She says, turning around and raising her ass to you.  When you don’t immediately take her, Dahyun looks over her shoulder.“I want to try this position, okay?” She says hurriedly before burying her face into the bed. You don’t question it, smacking her ass before taking her. When you finished, there was barely time to make it to school, and you ended up coming in late again. At lunch, Dahyun criticizes you much like the first day, but she comes around at the end. “You’re lucky I really enjoy it too, or I would threaten to not have sex with you anymore. Let’s just start earlier.” She says quietly, grabbing onto your hand and holding it tightly. 

“That’s fine by me, but you need to be quiet unless you want our parents to find out.” Dahyun smacks your chest.

“Don’t say that!” She shouts. After a minute, Dahyun grumbles, “We’ll have to tell them we’re dating soon anyway. Dating…” Dahyun contemplates the word for a second, a smile growing on her face as she turns to face you. She kisses your cheek softly, “Still, it’s really nice. The sound of it, I mean.”

[kiss-inthekitchen]

same sky | spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader

a late night phone call with Spencer. unruly amounts of fluff. no gender identifiers in this one. apologies to residents of las vegas, i did insult your city's aesthetics. i had to do it. for the plot

word count: 2k

notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3 by the same name. it's the second in a series of fics i've updated from my vault of oldies :) this one's for the girlies who liked the banter in no vacancy <3 oops! all banter

“I miss you,” you say into your cell phone, standing on the back porch and gazing out at the sky. It’s late, but you can’t sleep. Spencer has been gone on a case for the better part of a week, and you don’t sleep as well without him. 

“I miss you, too. But I’ll be home soon,” Spencer replies, keeping his voice low.  

“Is everyone else asleep?”

“Yeah. It’s been a long day.”

“Where are you right now?” Even though you aren’t in danger of waking anyone up, you find yourself mirroring Spencer's tone. 

“Best guess, somewhere over New Mexico.” They’ve been in the air about an hour, and given their trajectory, he’s pretty sure he’s right. Spencer is seated at the edge of the couch, his back against the arm of it and a blanket thrown over his legs, barely covering his mismatching-socked feet. 

“How come you’re still up?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” he says. Somehow, he can feel you smiling across the line. It makes him smile, too. He doesn’t ask why you’re awake when it’s even later where you are; he knows already. "What are you doing?”

“Looking up at the stars.”

“You know, you won’t be able to see me up here.”

“Ha ha.”

“Here, I’ll open the shade on the plane window. At least we can share the same view.”

“Hm. Almost like we’re together,” you hum. 

His heart aches. It’s only been a few days and he still can’t stand it. “Almost.”

For a minute, neither of you speak, looking out at the sky from two different time zones.

“When I wake up tomorrow morning, you’ll be here, right?” 

“Mmhm. Maybe even before that,” he responds, a low, soothing hum in your ear.

“Should I stay up until you get here?” you already know what he'll say, but you kinda like the idea of it anyway.

“No, no, it’s at least another four hours. Don’t worry about it. When you wake up, I’ll be there.”

“Sounds good. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You’d intended to let him go after just a quick call once you realized that the rest of the team were resting not too far from him, but you don’t want to hang up. He doesn’t make any moves to do so either, wanting to hear your voice as much as you want to hear his. “So, how was Tucson?”

“Oh, you know. Hot. Desert-y. Lots of murder.”

“Less murder now.” 

“Yeah.” 

His voice sounds strained. He doesn’t like indulging in a sense of accomplishment after closing a case, doesn’t ever feel like he’s done enough. He shows up too late and does too little, and then he gets to leave while the families of the victims have to pick up the pieces. You understand why he doesn’t like to think about the work that way, but you’ve tried to remind him that the good he does is incalculable; how many lives saved, how many tragedies avoided. It’s all you can do. 

You pivot a little, not wanting him to get too caught up. “I remember, when I first moved to Virginia, I was so shocked at how green everything was. I swore I’d never seen that much green in my life.”

“I had a similar experience,” he says, fondly, aware of your tactics. 

“Oh, I can only imagine. I’ve been to Vegas. It’s icky.”

“Icky?” he asks, laughing at your word choice. 

“I mean, no offense, but… it’s kinda ugly.”

“Wow, okay, insult my hometown, why don’t you.”

You laugh. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re right.”

“I know,” you sigh. “Always am.”

“Well, statistically, you actually have a seventy-two percent chance of being right, which is still impressive, but hardly a flawless track record.”

“Spencer Reid coming in hot with the stats. I love when you talk numbers to me.” 

“I don’t think we’d have gotten very far if you didn’t.” 

“But I think I should be right more often than that.” 

“Are you asking me to fudge the numbers?” he asks with put-upon shock. 

“I’m just saying, maybe you’ve got it wrong.” 

“Oh, so you dare to challenge the accuracy of my eidetic memory? Or is it the statistics that you think I’ve calculated incorrectly?” 

“This is affecting my score, isn’t it?” 

“I’ll have to factor it in. You understand.” 

You giggle, and Spencer starts to feel some warmth come back into him after too many days of stress, doubt, and destruction. He hadn’t been able to talk to you nearly as much as he wanted. And it was hard to talk to you on certain cases, to allow you to make him feel lighter when reality was so dark. When he felt so much weight on his shoulders, when he should be focusing on the profile and apprehending the unsub and… sometimes he just didn’t feel like he deserved to have that weight lifted by you, even for a little while. 

“Spence?” 

“Will you go inside?” he asks, his tone full of something like reverence for you. “Please?”

“If you insist,” you sigh, already opening the door. 

“I do. I do insist, very forcefully.” 

“I’m already inside with the door locked.” 

“Man, I’m good.” 

“Mmhm.”

“Going to bed?”

“Yeah. Will you talk to me for a few more minutes?” you ask, sliding under the covers. Spencer hears the slip of fabric as you pull them up over your shoulders, and it sharpens the ache he feels to be home with you already. 

“I’ll talk to you for the rest of the night, if you want me to.” 

“No, I don’t wanna keep you awake, too.” 

“I probably won’t get much sleep regardless.” 

“I don’t condone that,” you say, your frown evident in your voice. 

“Noted,” he replies, though he sounds apologetic. 

Four hours feels an eternity too long to wait. You miss Spencer, and you hate how tired he sounds. You want to fix things for him. You want to run your fingers through his hair til he falls asleep and you want to make sure his dreams are peaceful when he does. 

“What do you wanna do when you’re back?” you ask, hoping that planning for it will make the time go faster. 

“Oh, I’m taking a shower and getting right into bed. And you can’t make me get up.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I’m serious. Don’t ask me to do a single other thing cause I won’t do it.” 

You laugh. “For the whole day?” 

“Probably. And you better not go anywhere either. We could both use the rest.” 

“Okay, rest day all day.” 

“We can order Thai though. So we’ll get up for that. But even then, it’s just to sit on the couch.” 

“Maybe the floor.” 

“I will also accept floor,” he concedes, and then it occurs to him that you might’ve been asking because you want to do something with him. “Is there something you wanted to do the next day though?” 

“Well... the saucer magnolias are blooming at the Smithsonian again.” 

“Say no more.” 

You sigh wistfully. “You’re my favorite boyfriend I’ve ever had.” 

“Well, I should hope so,” he says, smiling. “You’re my favorite, too.” 

“Aren’t I the only partner you’ve ever had?” 

“Ha ha. I had a girlfriend in college.” 

“Spencer, you were like sixteen in college.”

“I wasn’t sixteen the entire time,” you hear the eye roll in his voice, “I have three PhD’s, it took me a little while.” 

“Well, who is this girl? Do I need to beat her up?” you joke. 

“No,” he laughs. “You are my favorite, after all. She wasn’t very nice to me.” 

“Okay… so you told me not to beat her up but then gave a reason why I should?” 

“Please don’t beat up my ex-girlfriend. I do appreciate your violent impulses though.” 

“Mm, okay. As long as you know I could.” 

“Sure, angel. You’re very scary,” he placates. 

You let out a little gremlin laugh. 

“Oh, and you’re delirious,” he notes, an amused lilt to his tone. 

“Delirious because I miss you,” you sing, dragging out the ‘you’. 

“God, where did I even find a weirdo like you,” Spencer laughs. 

“I found you. You attracted me with your peculiar aura and soulful eyes. Trapped me in your… fucking what’s-it-called. Tractor beam.” 

“You know, the term tractor beam was actually coined by science fiction author E.E. Smith in 1931 as an updated version of his original term ‘attractor beam.’” 

“Hmm, yup. You caught me in that.” 

“Did you call my eyes soulful?” he asks, seemingly just processing that part. 

“Oh, you don’t like my adjective choice? Next you’ll have a problem with me calling your aura peculiar.” 

“I mean… I don’t know that I loved it.” 

“Here he goes fishing for compliments,” you sigh, rolling over to your other side and creating a bunch of shuffling noise on the line. Spencer wrinkles his nose, holding the phone a little farther from his ear until he hears you speaking again. “Okay, your eyes are big and brown and beautiful and they contain a standard unremarkable amount of soul, and your aura is also really regular. Regular Reid, that’s what they call ya.” 

He’s frowning, you can practically see it, but he’s also fighting off an amused smile. “Well, that one started off nice, at least.” 

“God! You’re so difficult. My boyfriend is sooo difficult. Why don’t you come home to me first and then I’ll come up with some more adequate compliments?” 

“I’m going to hold you to that.” 

The two of you talk for a little while longer, with you telling Spencer about the new coffee shop you’d tried out and how their lavender latte actually tastes like lavender, which is basically unheard of. Spencer tells you about the standoff between him and an all too curious roadrunner that he swears was trying to get into his motel room. Calling it a standoff is generous; the man got bullied by a bird. 

You try not to laugh and end up unsuccessful, with Spencer insisting that you were taking sides and he was well and truly in danger, which only makes it funnier. His voice pitches up even as he tries to keep his volume low, and you argue that his energy is just so attractive that even the local wildlife are drawn to him. 

“Don’t start,” he warns, overwhelming fondness in his voice. 

You make Spencer tell you something boring to calm yourself down from the image you’ve conjured of him being chased by a roadrunner, which, in your exhausted state, is even funnier than it should be. He claims to regret confiding in you with this, but he knows he’d do it again just to hear you laugh. 

Instead of telling you something boring, he recites some of the poems he’s memorized over the years. It works the way you’d intended, and you regret it when you have to stop him to tell him you’re falling asleep. He’s just a little smug about it. 

“So, you’ll be home in four hours?” you ask, the start of your goodbyes. 

“More like three now.”

“We made time go faster.” 

“We did.” 

“Will you try to get some sleep?”

“Fine. Only because you asked.”

You hum, victorious. “Goodnight. I love you.” 

“And I love you.” 

Hours later, just as the sun is beginning to change the hue of the sky from deep navy to a hazy cerulean glow, you feel your mattress shift underneath you. You’re barely awake, but still you register the scent of Spencer’s shower gel, fresh and sort of woodsy. 

Half asleep, you shift to accommodate him, and he slips an arm around you as you lay your head on his chest. You wrap an arm around his torso and throw your leg over his hips, as close as you can possibly get without literally being on top of him. 

You sigh, deep and relieved, and Spencer’s heart stutters. 

“I missed this,” he chuckles, resting his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his arms tighter around you. You just hum in response, the last of your energy before you’re pulled back under. Within minutes, Spencer is asleep too, and the two of you sleep through sunrise and into the afternoon. 

[uhzuku]

╰─▸ ❝ 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑! ❞ ──── 𝐟𝐭. 𝐒. 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: “i’m boyfriend material!” he cries indignantly, offended despite the fact that he’d never kept a relationship for more than a few months out of sheer boredom, and you pause before looking him up and down. / “…mhmm.”

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: jujutsu kaisen | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: satoru gojo/f!reader, mild sukuna/reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 6.25k.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: college au, fem reader, fuckboy satoru, protected sex ( wrap it up cumsluts ), jealousy, attempted hand-holding, brief nanami cameo, satoru gets hard attached and then is O.O when reader is like ‘nah imma dip now’, slight angst, unrequited love, previously established relationship ( just not w gojo 💀💀 ), cheating ( by reader ), bf sukuna.

𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐬: hmmm gojo’s not suffered enough, let’s do THIS 👹👹

— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!

Gojo Satoru was not nervous. 

All he had to do was ask a simple girl in his Philosophy course out so he could take her home and sleep with her. He’d never asked any of the girls in his Philosophy course out, though, so he was a little hesitant. As odd as it would seem, he enjoyed this class, and he didn’t want anything awkward to happen — which was why Suguru had directed him your way. 

‘“She won’t make it weird,”’ he’d said, though how he’d known when Satoru knew every person that his best friend had ever slept with ( and you had not been one of them ) was beyond him. 

Remember, he thinks to himself, glancing over at you a few times in a way he thinks isn’t noticeable, She’s gonna fall all over you, just like all the others, as soon as you ask her out. Easy lay. 

And he wasn’t nervous. 

Class ends, and he waits for everyone to make their way out. From experience over the last semester and a half, you were one of the last people to leave, taking your time considering you didn’t have any more courses after this one ended at noon on Tuesdays until 5pm. Once only a few stragglers are left, he grabs his books and saunters over, plastering on one of his most breathtaking grins ( if he did say so himself ), then leaning against your desk. You don’t look at him, blatant disinterest emanating off of you, but he forges forward. 

“So… I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner tonight?” he asks, preening over how quick all the past yeses came. Men and women fell all over him like water rolls over stone in riverbeds, 

“No.”

“Great, I was thinking maybe that new Italian joint—,” Satoru pauses. Blinks. Registers your words. “…What?”

“No. Is a two letter word so difficult for you to understand?” Satoru is… shocked, for lack of a better word. He’d never actually been told no before. 

“But… why?” His question is whinier than he’d intended, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. You narrow your eyes up at him. 

“I don’t have to explain myself to you — but if you must know, I  go on dates with the man I intend to be in a relationship with,” you say honestly, and Satoru fights back a snort. “I don’t date someone who’s only  good for a quick fucking session.”

“I’m boyfriend material!” he cries indignantly, offended despite the fact that he’d never kept a relationship for more than a few months out of sheer boredom, and you pause before looking him up and down. 

“…Mhmm,” is your only reply, and he pouts. You go back to finishing up, and he thinks for a moment, drumming his fingers against the surface of your desk before shrugging. 

“Interested in hooking up, then?” he asks, and you glance up at him questioningly. “We don’t have to date, we could just have sex.” Not that you’d want to keep him as ‘just a fuckbuddy’ for too long, Satoru thinks. 

You hum softly, seeming to think it over, then give a slight nod. “Sure, we can fuck,” you say with a lazy shrug, then sigh. “But no feelings. I’m not interested, especially not with someone who has a reputation like yours.”

“You say that now, but you’re gonna be beggin’ for me to be your boyfriend,” Satoru chuckles, and you roll your eyes. 

“Don’t hold your breath,” you reply, sounding amused as you cross your arms, and without missing a beat he waggles his eyebrows at you, and you raise one of your own. “What?”

“Wanna get started on this friends-with-benefits thing now? My car’s in the parking lot,” he grins, and you look completely unimpressed. 

You resume picking up your notebooks and textbook, shoving them in your backpack and steadfastly refusing to look at his goofy expression. “I’m not fucking in your dirty-ass backseat,” you reply grumpily. “I might catch something.”

“I’ll have you know my car is amazing and clean and perfect,” Satoru retorts, acting as if his feelings are hurt, and you scoff. 

“Not with you as a driver. Didn’t you hit a sorority mailbox last month?”

He’s silent for a moment. “We’re in philosophy class, you know. Most philosophers say that it’s ‘unwise to root yourself in the past’.”

You just blink at him, then roll your eyes again and slide your laptop into your bag. “That alone tells me everything I need to know.”

“Y’know, you’re really mean,” he pouts, and you have to fight off the urge to smile. Sometimes he was amusing, even though you didn’t want to admit it. 

“I know. It’s one of my best traits,” you reply, swinging your bag over your shoulder. “See you in class.”

One week later, Gojo finally picks you up — that is, your shared Philosophy course ends and you both head to his car. You’ve both tossed your bags in the back and are sitting in the drive-through of a fast food place waiting on your coffees with you tapping away at your phone while he hands his card through the window so he can pay for the drinks you’d gotten along with his own. 

He pulls forward after getting his card back, then brightens a little as he remembered the question he’d wanted to ask before he’d forgotten after asking if you wanted a drink. 

“Do you want to type your address into my GPS so we can—“ Satoru starts, and his eyes widen when you interrupt him almost immediately. 

“Not at my place. Never at my place, Gojo,” you snap, and he nods almost dumbly. He’d not expected you to be so stern about it, nor for you to deny him heading to your apartment or house or whatever ( especially considering his hookups typically didn’t care as long as they ended up with him in their bed. In the back of his mind an alarm bell rings, but he dumbly chose to ignore it. 

“That’s — That’s fine, no problem, we can go to my place,” he replies, pushing a fake grin on his face. He watches you visibly relax back into the passenger seat, and relaxes himself before pulling up to the second window and taking your drinks. He hands you your drink then pulls away while sipping at his own Diet Coke, glancing at you every now and then as he drives back to his apartment rather than wherever you lived. 

Part of him was nervous; he never really ever brought hookups back to his apartment — hell, he’d only brought like two of his prior girlfriends there, so this was a big break from his normal meet-up for sex. Still, he’d talked so much shit to Suguru when he’d said he’d manage to fuck you, so he couldn’t back out now. 

He’d taken out the trash yesterday, right?

He pulls into the parking lot of his apartment, easing into his spot and putting the car in park before taking a breath and leaning back. You aren’t paying him any attention, still in your phone apparently texting someone from what he could see from the corner of his eye, and once you’re done you lock your phone before turning your body to face him in his seat. 

You ask quietly, “Gojo… are you sure you want to do this?” and he pauses as he starts unclipping his seatbelt. 

“Yeah, of course! Why would I, uh — Why wouldn’t I?” he asks, nodding with a smile. You raise an eyebrow. 

“You’re acting nervous.” You deadpan, and he laughs. 

“Nervous? I’m not nervous! Let’s fuck, babe,” he says brightly, opening his car door and hopping out as you shrug and unclip your own belt. 

“…Don’t call me babe, but whatever. If you’re sure,” you say lazily, then add, “By the way, three of my friends know I came home with you, and I just dropped a location pin in a group chat, so… it’d be easier if you weren’t some creepo murderer.”

Satoru laughs again, this time actually amused. “That’s great, they’ll know the location of the best dick in Japan! Second floor.”

You scoff, but follow him up the stairs, stopping only as he fishes his keys out of his pocket and works on getting them in the lock. Eventually it pops into place, and you follow him inside, toeing off your shoes and following him quietly, eyeing him as he takes his loose coat off and tosses it on the back of his couch before following his lead to the bedroom. He lets you come in before turning to close the door, and is surprised when he turns and your shirt is already on the floor and you’re working on wiggling out of your tight skirt. 

“I — oh! Like to do the work yourself, huh?” He jokes, and you scoff through a playful smile. 

“Please. If we fuck and you just lay there, the entire campus will hear about it before midnight, I promise,” You reply. Satoru just grins. 

“Who says we’ll be done by midnight?” He asks cheekily, and you laugh again. 

“Gojo Satoru, it is two in the afternoon,” you say, and he laughs and starts unbuckling his belt. 

“And?” he purrs, tossing it aside and kicking his pants away after they pool around his ankles, leaving his boxers on as you kick off your own skirt, leaving you in a mismatched bra and underwear set. He’s discovered he much prefers you this way — almost naked and ready to joke around with him — rather than the way you were cold and quiet in class. You actually seemed human here, and he was starting to understand why Suguru had said you were easy to be around; Satoru had thought he was lying just to fuck with him, but apparently you were typically this way in the bedroom and at parties after a few drinks. It was an interesting thing about you to learn in all honesty. 

He presses his front to yours, wasting no time and dipping his head down to kiss you, mashing your lips together hard and his hands snake behind your back and unclip your bra at the same time that you slip the condom you’d taken out of your bra between your teeth and hook your thumbs in the waistband of his own underwear and push them down. He steps out of them as you stumble backwards towards his bed, leading him along before falling back with him on top of you, both of you still kissing. 

You start to unwrap the condom. “You’re a good kisser,” you mumble into his mouth, reaching one hand down to shimmy out of your panties while the other tangles itself in his hair, tugging lightly. Once they’re over the edge of the bed they fall to your ankles and you just step out of them, reaching between your bodies and slipping the condom down his shaft with an experienced sort of ease that faintly amused him.

“Why the tone of surprise?” Satoru laughs, nipping at your bottom lip before starting to kiss a line down your throat, savoring the area over your pulse point as you let out soft, happy sighs.

“Mmm, kinda thought you’d have loser dick — but like, a real loser, not the sexy kind,” you reply honestly, and Satoru would have been offended if he wasn’t so fucking horny. He just laughs against your hot skin  and keeps kissing, about to kneel when you tug him back up. “Don’t need your mouth on my cunt, need your cock in me,” you grunt, and Satoru barely chokes back the whimper that threatens to escape him. 

“G-Gotta — Gotta prep you,” he argues as you reach between your bodies and grip his dick in an almost too-perfect grip. 

“Prepped myself before class, and I’m plenty soaked,” you reply, pressing his head in. He doesn’t bother trying to hide the low groan that tumbles from his lips at the thought of you fingering open the hot cunt he was so close to, then sitting in class with him only a few seats away, ready and waiting for him to fill you. “Plus I enjoy the stretch. Don’t pussy out now, Gojo.”

“Stop calling me Gojo when I’m about to be balls deep in you,” Satoru growls, and you just laugh with a defiant glint in your eye. 

“You gotta earn me saying your first name, loser boy,” you taunt, and he narrows his eyes before bottoming out in one go, watching in satisfaction as your eyes widen and your pupils blow further all at once… then the feeling hits. 

“God, you’re fucking tight,” he groans, letting his head fall. “Fuckin’ hot too.”

“Don’t tell me slippin’ it in is gonna do it for you,” you whisper, and Satoru forces himself to pull out, his eyes squeezing shut at the perfect friction in the glide of his cock slipping out of you, before thrusting back in. 

He starts a steady pumping of his hips, taking you over the edge of the bed like a beast on its bitch at a breeding bench. He can feel your nails digging into his back and scalp and it makes him make a tight fist in the sheets, soft moans falling from his mouth as he fucks into you desperately. 

“F-Fuck — Oh god, Satoru, you fucking bastard-!” you moan, holding tight as he ruts into you, and he laughs breathlessly through a moan of his own. 

“E-Earned it already?” he asks playfully, and you laugh through a moan yourself. 

“Again, thought you were a real loser. Now shut up and keep fucking me,” your words come out in a low purr as you toss one arm around his neck, amd he busies himself with doing as told, not bothered by taking a command to fuck your willing body like this. 

Soft groans of your name and his coupled with cursing and cries for God fill the room as the two of you fuck, your sweat and precum smearing across both of your bodies as you both get closer and closer to orgasm. “C’mon, just like that — gonna cum, gonna cum!” you whisper, and Satoru presses closer and keeps his pace and position the same, listening to the way your voice pitches. He’s been on the verge of cumming himself for the past fifteen minutes, but he’d be damned if he came before you the first time the two of you fucked — not when you still somehow thought he was a loser. 

“Cum for me, babe, cum for me—“ he half-begs lowly, and you huff through a moan. 

“What did I — did I say about calling me babe?” you ask, and he shakes his head. 

“Sorry, sweetheart — God, please, just fucking cum already!”

You laugh a little, a laugh that breaks apart like brittle ice at the end as your pussy starts clenching tightly around his cock and you dig your nails into his skin hard enough to leave marks. “Fuck — fuck, fuck — fuckfuckfuck, cumming-!”

Satoru’s eyes roll back in his head at the feeling of you clenching so tightly around him, and the sounds of your cries as you cum around have his own falling from his lips as he fills the condom wrapped around his cock and you slowly relax completely into the bed, unmoving aside from a couple stray twitches and a lazy hand against his chest to get him off of you. He falls bonelessly onto the bed next to you, tugging the condom off and tossing it into the trash can by his bed before returning to letting his legs dangle off of the side of bed with his feet flat against the floor like yours. 

He waits a moment, enjoying the silence between you both before asking, “Well?”

You make a confused noise and turn to look at him. “Well what?” you ask, amd he chuckles. 

“Am I a loser?” he asks cheekily, and you laugh brightly. 

“Oh, definitely. Big loser energy from you, Satoru,” you reply. 

“What?!” he exclaims, turning onto his side to look at you head on, and you laugh again and nod as you sit up and stretch with your arms over your head. 

“Yep. But hey — you’re a loser with good dick,” you offer, standing on slightly wobbly legs, and start to get dressed. 

“What a comfort,” he mutters, acting annoyed, and you see through it just as he knew you would. 

“It should be,” you reply, zipping up your skirt then putting on the shirt you’d thrown over your forearm. “See you later, loser. My ride’s outside.”

Satoru’s quiet for a second, unused to girls just leaving, much less having already called cars to wait for them outside while he fucks them, “…Yeah, later…” And you’re out the door in less than five minutes with nothing but a wave and a yawn.

After a moment he stands and makes his way into the kitchen, peeping out the window to see you climb into the passenger side of a car driven by someone with short pink hair. He sighs. 

The sex was good — but today did not go like he’d expected. 

𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦: 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐒. 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 — 𝟎𝟗.𝟐𝟏𝐏𝐌

𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐒. 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 dropped a pin!

meet me at starbucks

i’m getting a coffee

then we can fuck or wtv

𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦: 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲 ! — 𝟎𝟗.𝟐𝟏𝐏𝐌

why r u getting coffee at 9pm

𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐒. 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 — 𝟎𝟗.𝟐𝟐𝐏𝐌

don’t ask questions your tiny brain can’t understand the answers to

𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦: 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲 ! — 𝟎𝟗.𝟐𝟐𝐏𝐌 

i literally only asked why ur getting coffee so late :(

ur so mean :((

𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐒. 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 — 𝟎𝟗.𝟐𝟐𝐏𝐌

and yet u still like to fuck me?? lmfao loser

Satoru throws his phone down on the passenger’s side seat, pouting with a huff and drumming his fingers against the top of the steering wheel as he slowly follows the line of traffic towards the Starbucks you’d pin dropped, and he sees you before you see him. You’re texting someone, a large coffee in hand, and you look… happy. Satoru didn’t think he’d ever actually seen you smile a real smile before, not in class when you’d ignored him for months before he’d proposed being fuckbuddies and not even during the last couple months that the two of you had been hooking up. Every now and then in between fucking each other he’d catch you gazing down at your phone with a fond look in your eyes, but he didn’t really ask about it anymore; you always dodged his questions, and it always led to you being in a foul mood and leaving him. He learned quickly to just… not say anything and let you do your own thing so he could empty his balls and you stay happy and with him. 

Stay with him? God, what was the matter with him? He sounded like a clingy high-schooler, desperate to keep their first relationship. No, he was supposed to sleep with you once, get off, then go laugh about it with Suguru — not… whatever he was doing. It had been six months, why was he still here — fuck, who was he kidding? Satoru knew exactly why he was still here: he liked you. A lot. 

He’s in too deep, and now he can’t back out. 

You open the passenger side door, disrupting him from his thoughts. “Hmm, on time as usual. Desperate, huh?” you ask, sipping at your coffee, and it takes everything in Satoru to scoff at your words and start up the car as you clip on your seatbelt, because the answer was yes. He is desperate. He wants you, wants to hold your hand and take photos with you and brag about how beautiful you are to Suguru and his other friends, and wants for the world to know that you were each other’s partner. He wants to kiss you, not in the sloppy way that left your lipstick smeared across your face as he fucked into you, but softly and slowly so you can tell with each tiny shift how much he loves you. Yeah, you’re mean to him, you make fun of him all the damn time — but god, does he fucking like it. 

It’s a slow, careful motion when he reaches a hand over to first grasp at your thigh before moving over ever so slightly to hold your hand as he drives, and a pang bounces through his chest as you immediately tug your hand away and turn away from him. 

He doesn’t try to touch you again for the rest of the car ride, and before he knows it he’s once again back at his apartment, the motions of making his way to the bedroom with you at his back all a blur. You’re on him before he can remind himself to breathe as the sight of you bare and vulnerable before him takes his breath away as it always does — but you aren’t vulnerable, are you? You’re closed off, all sharp corners and twisted smiles, but maybe — just maybe — he’s blunting them a bit. 

“O-Oh God — oh, fuck-!” Satoru whimpers softly, his thick eyelashes fluttering as he fists his hands in the sheets beneath him while you bounce on his cock, tiny gasps falling from your lips as you swallow up all of his thick length. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes as drowns in the sensations of your sopping cunt taking him entirely, his fat tip slamming against your cervix with each rough drop down. 

“Fuck yes, Satoru!” You hiss sharply, clenching around him and digging your nails into his shoulders. “Y’fill me up so fuckin’ good, ‘Toru-!”

“Yes, yes — fuckfuckfuck, c’mon!” Satoru whines, bucking his hips up to meet yours as they drop down harshly. “You’re so fucking hot, sweetheart, so fuckin’ wet!”

Lewd wet noises and the slapping of bare flesh along with the crude banging of his headboard against the walk fill the bedroom, mixing with the sounds falling from your lips, as well as his. Satoru sits up, wrapping and arm around your middle as yours instinctively loop around his shoulders, your lips catching his in a searing kiss that sends a fond warmth from his mouth all the way down to his toes. 

“God, yes,” you moan into his mouth, “So fuckin’ good, Satoru — don’t stop, don’t stop-!”

“Won’t, can’t, won’t stop!” Satoru promises through a moan of his own, a deep groan following it triggered by the feeling of your tongue running along his. His fingers dig into your skin hard enough to bruise as you tear your mouth away from his in order to latch onto his neck and bite down, nipping and kissing and sucking as his head falls back in time with the feeling of the soft heat kindling in his belly start growing hotter and hotter. “F-Fuck — damn it, m’gonna cum!”

“Cum for me, Satoru,” you whine sharply, and he whimpers a little. 

“B-But you-?” he starts, his words devolving into a garbled moan as you pick up the pace. 

“I’m close too — c’mon, ‘Toru, cum with me!” You plead softly, and Satoru needs no further prodding. He clings to you tightly as he starts cumming, his own fingernails digging into your skin as his hips buck up messily into your welcoming hips with each new burst of cum. Your voice pitches in the way he knows it does during your own orgasm, and he forces the haze away just enough so that he can look at you and watch you fall apart on his lap. 

God, you’re beautiful. 

The two of you bask in the moment for about ten minutes before you finally end it, pulling away and staggering into the bathroom in the hallway to piss. Satoru sighs and tosses the condom in the trash can after tying it off, falling back against his bed with an arm thrown over his eyes. He can hear you come back into the bedroom, can hear you moving around, assumingly so you can no doubt be ready to leave again — which is why he’s surprised at the feeling of the blankets beneath him being thrown back and the mattress dipping beneath your weight. 

He stares at you in surprise as you begin making yourself comfortable, fluffing your pillow and finding the spot on the side of the bed you’d chosen before you finally catch him staring. “Go to sleep, Gojo,” you mutter, shimmying around beneath the blankets as you try to get comfortable in a technically strange bed. 

His eyes widen in half-wanting shock. “You’re staying the night?” Satoru asks hopefully, and you sigh. 

“I’m tired,” you reply simply. “Now go to sleep.”

Sayoru nods wildly, his heart pounding. You were staying the night — you were staying. With him. “Yeah… yeah! Okay. Sleep. I can do that!”

You nod tiredly. “Good,” you say, amd you click off the lamp on the nightstand next to you as Satoru does the same. An odd silence fills the room as Satoru follows your previous motions of getting ready to rest before finally getting comfortable under the blankets. 

He rolls over to rest on his side, staring at the way you lay with your back to him. “…Goodnight,” Satoru murmurs quietly, lacing his fingers through yours. It doesn’t sting as harshly as before when you move your hand away, considering you do allow him to drap his arm over your waist while pressing his chest to your back. You’re silent for a moment, but you do eventually respond as his warmth begins to seep into you.

“…Goodnight, Satoru,” you say, and he hums drowsily. 

You’re both asleep within fifteen minutes. Neither of you comment on how well the two of your bodies slot together outside of sex. 

It’s 1am when Satoru wakes up, his vision blurry and the red numbers on his bedside clock more aggressive than he remembered. 

Blearily he pats the mattress behind himself, wondering why he’d turned away from you in his sleep, and finds nothing but cool sheets, which leads him to rolling over. He’s startled, almost certain he’ll find the bathroom light on in the hallway, but no — it’s darker than he’d like, even at twenty-three, and you’re not here. Snatching up his cellphone, a quick scan of it tells him all he needs to know. 

You left him. 

Again. 

Three days later, Satoru finds himself parked in front of the dining hall on campus, waiting for you to come out, likely followed by one or two of your friends. After waiting about ten minutes, you do just that — only you’re walking closer to an older man in a suit than he for some reason felt comfortable with, and he moves around in his seat a little to get comfortable while watching your interactions with the man with narrowed eyes. He grits his teeth for a moment when the man touches your arm in a too-casual way, then crosses his own when he sees you smile at him. The two of you stop on the sidewalk several paces from his car, then finally split off. 

“So… Who was that old guy?” he asks as you slip into the passenger seat, and you pause as you put your bag in the backseat. He doesn’t want to just foolishly believe that you’re genuinely confused, but he also doesn’t want to think ill of you without reason, so he ‘decides’ to withhold judgment for now. 

“What?” you ask, confused, and he sighs in blatant annoyance. 

“The old guy. The one you were literally just talking to,” he grouses. “The one who was getting so touchy.”

“‘Old guy’ — wait, the blond?” You ask, almost in a shocked way, and he nods. You snort; Satoru doesn’t know what’s so funny. “That was professor Kento — my History professor,” you reply, and Satoru can feel his cheeks heat up a little, but he refuses to look at you as you start laughing. 

“Oh my god! You were fucking jealous of Professor Kento?!” you giggle, and while he’s embarrassed he can’t deny that he enjoys the sound, even if it was at his own expense. What the hell was wrong with him? “That’s so fucking wild — like c’mon man, we aren’t even dating. If I wanted to fuck Professor Kento, it wouldn’t even fucking matter.” A lump settles in Satoru’s throat at your words. 

Yes, it would. 

“But… you aren’t, right?” Satoru asks carefully as he pulls the car out of park, and you sigh. 

“No, Satoru. I’m not going to fuck my History professor.” you say softly, blatantly amused, but it’s too late now — Satoru’s upset, and he can’t stop the words from coming out. 

“Because I just — I don’t want anyone else with you like me, y’know?” he asks, almost paranoid. He fails to notice the way you stiffen next to him and forges on, his heartbeat quickening as his panic picks up. “It’s just — really like you. Like a lot. And it scares me. But it doesn’t scare me enough to not want you to myself, you know? I just want you and want to be with you and—“

“Take me home.”

Satoru pauses. “W-What?” he asks, uncertain of the icy tone you’d taken on when interrupting him. 

“My address is in your GPS,” you say quietly, then repeat yourself. “Take me home.”

“But-“ Satoru whispers, but you shake your head almost violently. 

“Now. Or I’ll walk,” you threaten lowly, and that’s all it takes for him to listen. The rest of the car ride is spent in silence until he reaches your apartment. You’re out of the car before he can say your name, and he’s following you before he can even ask himself why. 

He’s right behind you as you go into your kitchen, watching in surprise as you pull out a large bottle of wine from the fridge while simultaneously throwing open a cabinet next to the refrigerator in order to pull out a wine glass. You pull the cork out, fill the glass, and empty it in one go before refilling it again.  

Tentatively, Satoru says, “Please, I just — I think I’m in love with you. Can’t we talk about this?” and you laugh borderline hysterically. 

“And say what?! What do you expect of me, Gojo?” you ask, your tone harsh enough to make him flinch, but he answers you anyway. 

“I… I want you to be my girlfriend,” he says softly, feeling smaller than he ever had before. 

You laugh again, this time less hysterically and more in disbelief. “No,” You say, and Satoru blinks in shock. 

“What? N-No?” He asks, voice shaky. 

“No!” you snap icily, turning back to your wine. You empty your glass again as Satoru begins to reflect on the situation at hand; it’s bitterly ironic, the deja vū he’s feeling. This conversation is brutally close to the first time he’d asked you out all those months ago with the sole goal in mind being getting in your pants and ditching you, whether that meant hurting you in the process or not. How poetically cruel ( and simultaneously deserved ) that he’s the one hurt in the end. 

“Can I ask why?” he finally asks, and you turn around tk face him again, your eyes wild and cold. 

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” you growl, and he lifts his hands in surrender while nodding in agreement. 

“I know that, I just—“ Satoru swallows hard. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Do something wrong? God, Gojo, yes! You asked me to be your fucking girlfriend — I literally said before we ever fucked that you couldn’t catch feelings, what is wrong with you?!

“I didn’t mean to,” he whispers, his chest filled with a stabbing pain he’d nkt ever expected to experience while in your company.

“What does that matter now?! This thing we’ve been doing is over,” you mutter, taking a long drink of your wine. Satoru’s eyes widen exponentially, and the panic begins to set in anew. 

“Over?!” he exclaims, shaking his head a little, and you scoff.

“Of course it’s over!” You snap angrily, pointing at him accusingly. “You ruined it! Feelings were never supposed to be involved!”

Satoru wilts completely. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, just as quietly as before, and you sigh audibly as you lean against the counter. 

“An apology won’t fix this,” you say bitterly. Satoru wants to argue, wants to assure you that he can be good and do better, that the two of you don’t have to stop seeing each other, but he’s instead startled when the door to the entry hall opens without warning, and he spins to glance at the doorway like whoever came in is intruding as you groan and cross your arms after putting down your wine, covering your eyes with one hand at the same time. 

“C’mon Yuuji, kick your shoes off under the coat rack,” a deep voice rumbles, and a man with pink hair strolls in like he owns the place. Satoru would be extremely alarmed if you’d seemed so yourself, but you made no move to react, apparently used to the man being in your apartment. “I’m gonna grab a beer from the kitchen and see if she’s home yet.” His eyebrows raise with ill-concealed interest when he finally lays them on Satoru. “And who are you?”

“Who are you?” Satoru parrots quietly, a sickening feeling twisting his stomach as his mind thinks up just what scenario could lead to a random man in your apartment — but was he random?

Roommates. Please, please just be roommates, Satoru finds himself begging in his kind, though no one could hear him. 

“I’m one of the two people on the lease of this apartment, and the boyfriend of the woman behind you,” the man says, narrowing his eyes; a jolt of nausea stabs through Satoru’s stomach. “I’ll ask again: who are you?”

“He’s no one, Sukuna,” you mutter, sounding annoyed. Yet another sharp pain shocks through Satoru’s chest, and he turns back to look at you in disbelief as you walk past him and wrap your arms around Sukuna’s waist, hugging him. Your voice is muffled by his chest when you say, “Welcome home, baby,” and he kisses the crown of your head and you let go, drifting over to the younger looking ( also very confused and clearly a little uncomfortable ) boy who resembles ‘Sukuna’. “C’mon Yuuji, help me set up the new console Sukuna and I got last Friday.”

The teenager follows without hesitation, the awkwardness on his face from the odd altercation fading as he starts talking to you excitedly about some boy in his Biology II class he thinks is cute, and suddenly Satoru is left alone with Sukuna. The other man is staring at him, and it's making him uncomfortable. 

“Y’slept with her?” he asks finally, and again Satoru is startled. He just slowly nods, and Sukuna shrugs and moves past him to the fridge, fishing out a beer and popping the top off before taking a large swig. “No big deal. You’re not the first she’s run around with.”

Satoru’s startled all over again. “You… don’t care?”

“Oh, I absolutely care! I’ll have you know I’m a damn jealous man — but I know I’ve got nothing to worry about,” Sukuna chuckles, looking completely unbothered as he shrugs again. “She’s my woman after all — has been since junior high.” He laughs, takes another drink, and continues while making his way over to the bottle of wine and the half empty glass she’d left on the counter. “Hell, she even officially adopted my kid brother with me when our grandfather died last year — Pretty sure she and I are set.”

Satoru feels sick, and he wants to go home. He understands now, he realizes that he never had a claim to your heart at all. God, he was an idiot. 

Sukuna hums slightly in thought, tipping his head to the side ever so slightly. “Her sleeping around every now and then makes the sex better though. Every now and then we’ll agree we wanna spice things up, and she’ll pick some poor idiot to fuck. It makes me angry, gets me all jealous and possessive, and since we both love it when I fuck her like I hate her — even if that couldn’t be farther from the truth — it’s a double win.”

“So you just — you cheat on each other just to boost your sex?” Satory asks, completely in disbelief. Sukuna just scoffs and shakes his head, knocking back the rest of his beer before chasing it with the remnants of what you had left in your wine glass before crossing his arms.

“Nah, she’s it for me — never been interested in anyone else. Besides, I know she’ll always come back to me. She’s proven that today, hasn’t she?”

That stung — but he wasn’t wrong. You had proven yourself to your boyfriend again, and Satoru looked like nothing but a fool. 

“Go home, Gojo,” Sukuna finally says, finally sounding annoyed. It seems his patience with Satoru being in his home has run as thin as possible. “She’s never going to love you, so leave. There’s nothing for you here.”

Absently Satoru wonders how Sukuna could possibly know his name when he’d never given it, until he registers that Sukuna must have known the entire time who he was because you’d told him about him, and didn’t that just make it worse? He’d been an idiot, had been so damn sure that you’d love him back. 

Fuck. Just like before, Gojo Satoru was not nervous. 

He was heartbroken instead. 

𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.

[miirohs]

sore wa hanabi [k.s]

pairing: Ken Sato x GN!Reader wc: 1.4k cw: n/a an: this was inspired by hanabi by ikimonogakari and motospeed 24 by bibi, i fucking love those songs so much UGH. pls ignore the plot holes i was tired and it was like 12 when i started!!! i love writing chat

The last of the sunlight rippled across the water, a slow breeze blowing past you on the steps of the house, watching as the city seemed to come alive.

The sounds of a motorcycle in the distance distracted you, head shooting up from your knees as Professor Sato limped out of the front door, gently setting down his walking stick as he sat next to you.

“He’s coming back home then?”

It wasn’t really a question, rather a statement.

“I believe so. He was out for interviews almost all day.”

He didn’t respond, digging into the pocket of his khaki vest, pulling out a worn flyer and handing it to you.

“What is this?” You asked, gently unfolding the colorful paper.

“It was a fireworks festival. I’m sure they still hold them yearly around here, and Emiko took Kenji often when he was younger. I’ve seen it myself from the apartments sometimes, and they’re a sight to see.” He explained softly, smiling into the distance as your eyes flitted over the contents.

“I see, but what exactly-”

“I think you should go see them, you and Kenji need some alone time as well,” He didn’t let you finish, poking your leg with his walking stick, “Plus, it would be good for me and Mina because we need to get more data on Emi, and Ken won’t let us do that without breath down my shoulders about us hurting her.” 

You could barely respond as he got up, limping his way back to the door without further explanation. “But Ken is going to want to see Emi and-”

“Me and Mina can take care of her if anything happens. If the boy troubles you about that, tell him I told you he was to do so. He may be Ultraman now, but I'm still his father!” He cackled, shaking his head affectionately as he closed the door gently.

The light was gone now, but you could hear the sound of his bike getting closer, rubbing your arms to regain your warmth as you waited. Soon enough, Ken appeared against the twilight sky, silhouette illuminated by the headlights of his parked bike.

“Hey baby, what are you doing out here?” he greeted, tone filled with a mixture of exhaustion and relief upon seeing you.

“The weather was nice out, and the view was gorgeous.” You responded, turning to him as he sat down next to you. “The view is gorgeous from inside too,” He joked, intertwining a hand into yours, “I don’t get why you wanna sit out here, it’s cold and you don’t even have a jacket on.”

You clutched the paper in your other, taking a deep breath in. You had no reason not to, it could be a good surprise.

“You know, i was thinking we haven’t had a proper date night since we moved here and-”

“We had a movie night though!” Ken chimed in, staring at you, confused. It was like he couldn’t see where you were going with it. “Yes, we had a movie night honey, but it was interrupted every ten minutes by the loud baby we happen to be taking care of, remember?” You said, exasperated. 

“I would baby, but what about Emi?” 

“Your dad and Mina can take care of her. He said you’d trouble me about it, and that I should tell you that he insists.” You tilted your head towards the city.

Ken chuckled, shaking his head. “That sounds like him honestly, but where do you wanna go? You gotta have something planned if you’re insisting on dragging me out.”

“I was thinking we could ride through the city, I'm pretty sure the seaside looks gorgeous at night.” You could barely hold back your smile as he wrinkled his nose, it was almost like you could see the gears turning in his head.

The exhaustion almost seemed to leave his face, a smile taking its place. “Alright, you win. Go get your jacket and meet me out here in… five?” You nodded, getting up from your spot.

“Five minutes,” you repeated to yourself softly, heading inside to grab your jacket. The excitement was building as you folded up the paper, gently hiding it in your pocket as you grabbed your helmet.

He was already near the motorcycle, leaned over the dashboard as you approached him, barely able to contain the excitement.

“I think you remember how to ride a bike, right baby?” You nodded, allowing him to put your helmet on for you, securing it till you felt comfortable. “Of course. I’m ready when you are.”

Ken winked, helping you onto the bike before climbing on himself. The engine roared to life and you wrapped your arms around his waist, adrenaline running through your veins as you started down the path. The wind was fast, seawater blowing into your face as you both skirted across the water.

​​The city was a blur of nightlights as you weaved through the streets, laughs of delight leaving your mouth as you turned and sped down the straights. The neon signs and billboards created a colorful mosaic, a dazzling display of light. 

Ken glanced back at you briefly, shouting something at you, a wide smile on his face as he pressed down on the accelerator.

“This feels so familiar, what are you doing to make this happen baby?!” You pressed your face into his face, barely hiding the grin on your face as you shouted back. “A magician never tells Ji!” 

You slowed near the city limits, allowing for you to nudge him in the direction you wanted to go. The city faded into quieter roads, riding on the outskirts of the city, the smell of the sea intermingling with the scent of his perfume. The waves crashed against the seawall, spraying you with water.

You looked up, narrowed eyes growing wide as bright lights went off in the sky.

“There, look!” you exclaimed, your voice barely audible over the rush of wind and the distant explosions of the fireworks. You squeezed Ken’s waist, taking one hand off to point up at the sky.

He followed your hand, relaxing in awe as he watched the colorful display unfold above you. It wasn’t long until you found a place to park, Ken eagerly pulling you off the motorcycle, running down to the beach with you in hand.

“Sup- Whoa, surprise Ji!” You laughed as you both stumbled, pulling closer to the source of the lights. The sand was surprisingly cool beneath your feet as you stood on the shore, fireworks exploding in a variety of colors.

Greens, pinks and golds colored the sky, painting the dark with bangs of light, fizzling out just as quickly as they came up.

“Your mom used to bring you here before you moved, didn’t she?” You looked at him, the light reflecting in his glassy eyes, softened by nostalgia.

"Yeah, she did. How did you know?"

“I’ve heard a thing or two about your trips.” You commented to the side, allowing him to lead you aimlessly, "I thought you might like to revisit those memories." You squeezed his hand as he paused once more, turning to look at you.

“She used to call them something else- hanabi. It was the Japanese word for fireworks, I think.” He brought up a hand, wiping his eye on his free arm.

“That sounds beautiful,” You turned to him, floating closer and closer every second.

There was nothing more to be said, holding his hand with as much affection as you could, fireworks exploding somewhere in the background. The light illuminated the sharpness of his features, and you leaned in, closing the distance between you and Ken. 

His lips met yours, soft yet firm. The fireworks seemed to pause for that brief moment, allowing you to be trapped in the bubble you’d made for yourselves. Ken's arms were wrapped around you, holding you close as if he was never going to let go.

en rested his forehead against yours as you pulled apart. His eyes scanned yours, as if trying to capture every detail of the moment to memory.

"I've missed this," Ken murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as you pulled away.

“No kidding, we should do this more often shouldn’t we?” You giggled, running your finger down the ridges of his nose, booping the tip.

Ken nodded quietly, allowing you to lean in closer once more. "Definitely. It's moments like these that make life more bearable."

You leaned in again, brushing your lips against his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder. The last of the embers faded into the sky, pieces of your heart drifting off with them as you watched Ken.

"Let's come back here again," Ken suggested softly, his voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the waves. "Definitely," you agreed. You could get used to it.