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5 acts
words: 2k
warnings: soft!rafe, very fluffy, insecurity from rafe, reader is described as having curly hair, established relationship, brief nudity but very sfw (reader is topless while getting a massage but no descriptions)
5 acts of service to spark romance between you and your partner
make their morning easier: make them breakfast, or their coffee just as they like it
take care of their vehicle: get it washed, filled, and oil changed if needed. it'll feel like a weight off their shoulders
organize something meaningful for them: go through an old photo album or set up a space in the home that caters to them
pamper them after a long day: draw a bath, brush their hair, give them a massage
set up their favorite movie night: get their favorite snacks, light some candles, and turn a simple movie night into a romantic evening
rafe frowns as he reads over the list again.
“baby!” your voice rings out, and he's quick to jump to his feet and rush down the stairs.
“oh!” you stop as he lands on the hardwood in front of you. “you came down so quickly.” you giggle. “i was just going to tell you dinner will be ready in about ten minutes.”
“ill get the table set up.” rafe leans in and presses a kiss to your cheek, leaving you to look at him in confusion as he walks away, a certain amount of pep in his step you're not used to seeing.
you get even more suspicious when you bring the dish into the dining room and see that rafe has a candle lit.
“is there a special occasion i forgot about?” you question as rafe pulls your chair out for you.
“nope, just treating my girl.” rafe swallows thickly, surprised and disappointed in himself that you're already noticing his change in behavior.
it all started last weekend when rafe overheard you talking to your girlfriends about love languages. he didn't mean to eavesdrop, truly, but he found himself quickly locked in when you said yours was acts of service and quality time, but that you couldn't think of any acts of service rafe has done recently.
you didn't sound that upset about it, and even immediately clarified that rafe makes up for it in other ways and you weren't even sure what he could do for you, but rafe was determined to change the tides of your relationship.
act 1
rafe shuts his alarm off quickly before looking over at you, making sure the beeping didn't wake you up as well.
he lets out a sigh of relief when he sees your eyes are still closed before carefully sliding out of bed and tiptoeing out of the room.
rafe makes it to the kitchen keeping his steps quiet as he looks around at the various cabinets. he's not sure where to start, so he begins with unloading the dishwasher and putting everything away, when he opens up a cabinet to see the waffle maker and an idea sparks.
rafe opens up the pantry, stepping in to find the mix as well as anything else he might need for the breakfast, and just like that, rafes plan sets into motion.
he makes a stack of waffles, but not before turning on the coffee machine so you can wake up to a fresh brew. he makes a good portion of eggs for you to split before checking the clock, figuring it's about time to check to see if you're awake.
rafe pours your coffee in your favorite tumbler before adding ice and syrup, smiling at himself for remembering just how you like it.
rafe is about to head out of the kitchen when he hears your footsteps coming down the stairs.
“good morning ba-”
“oh my god, im so late for my nail appointment, why didn't you wake me up?” you squeal, grabbing your purse and adjusting the outfit you threw on quickly.
“i didn-”
“i got to leave, like right now, sorry babe.” you run up to rafe and press a quick kiss to his lips, about to rush away when you realize the two plates of breakfast.
“it's okay.” rafe shakes his head. “i'll make you breakfast a different day. forgot you had a nail appointment. but here-” rafe grabs the tumbler and thrusts it into your hand. “at least take the coffee i made you.”
rafe can see the conflicting emotions going on inside your head.
“hey.” he says softly. “it's okay. go. you and i both know how ridiculous those late fees are.”
“okay.” you nod, pouting and looking back at the plates as you leave.
act 2
“do you have any plans today?” rafe asks, brushing your hair away from your face.
“nope. just hanging with you.” you smile up at him, snuggling closer to his side, not yet ready to leave the bed when rafe is keeping you so warm, occasionally pressing kisses to your face.
“im gonna go take your car to get it serviced.” rafe says. “since you don't have anything going on.”
“oh.” you hum. “okay.” you were secretly hoping you could just have a lazy day in bed with rafe, maybe even force him to watch some trashy reality tv, knowing it'll only take a couple minutes for him to get fully invested in whatever drama starts up between the couples.
“you stay in bed though.” rafe smiles at you, sliding out from under the covers, leaving you to pull the blanket tighter around yourself and inhale his fleeting scent.
rafe heads down the stairs, a pep in his step at getting this task done for you. he grabs your keys before heading out the door, taking it to the service center first for an oil change. it's not very dirty on the inside, but rafe decides he'll still vacuum the inside after taking it through the wash.
you really only use your car when rafe is gone or you have an appointment, so it doesn't get used often.
rafe finishes everything he wants to get done for you, filling up your tank before driving back home.
rafe is whistling and happy as he returns home and heads back up the stairs, and just like he expects, you're still in bed, but sat up, watching the television.
“hey baby.” your smile widens as you see him. “i missed you so much.”
“sorry, doll.” rafe changes quickly before climbing into the bed. “but i got everything done on your car.”
“thanks.” you hum. “really appreciate it.” you press your face into his chest, throwing one leg over his hips as you return to a lying position, no longer caring about what's on the tv now that you've got your boyfriend back.
“you don't have anything else you wanna get done today, do you?” you ask. “i thought we'd have all day together.”
rafe sighs as he looks at the clock, realizing just how long it took him to service your vehicle. “well, we have the rest of the day at least.”
act 3
“um, rafe?” you call out as you open up a drawer in your closet, expecting to see the tangled mess of necklaces and earrings just as you left it.
“honey?” rafe walks into your bedroom before realizing you’re in the closet.
“where’d all my jewelry go?” you ask confused.
“oh, i organized it for you.” rafe moves to the drawers, sliding open the two underneath to reveal jewelry displays and every piece neatly put away. “i also got you a display for your favorite necklaces but i wanted you to choose what ones go up there.”
“where at?” you ask, noticing the necklace rafe got you for your first anniversary in missing from the drawer.
rafe doesn’t respond with his words, taking your hand and guiding you out of the closet and into the main bedroom, where you notice the necklace stand shaped like a tree with two chains already hanging from them.
“oh my gosh, whats this?” you squeal, pulling the new necklace off the stand, admiring the diamonds that glitter back at you in the shape of an r.
“for you, baby.” rafe kisses your cheek.
“what has gotten into you?” you ask, but before rafe can worry too much about you figuring out he’s following a guide on how to treat you better, you turn and pull your hair off your neck for him to slot the necklace on.
act 4
“oh right there!” you moan out as rafe rubs at your back, hands smoothing up and down against your skin, gently kneading into your muscles as he does.
“love pampering you baby.” rafe leans down to press a kiss against your shoulder blade.
“you’re so sweet.” you smile and turn your head. “i’m gonna have to make it up to you.”
“you already treat me better than i deserve.”
you frown and turn over onto your stomach, bringing the blanket with you to keep your chest covered. “not true. you’re an amazing boyfriend.”
“thanks, doll.” rafe doesn’t want you to worry about his insecurities in this moment, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. “stay there.”
you get comfortable on your back, eyes sliding shut as rafe starts some gentle music. it flows from the speakers as rafe hums along to the instrumental version of a popular song, grabbing your hairbrush from off the dresser.
you are only vaguely aware of rafes movements, when suddenly a hand is placed on the top of your head, massaging against your scalp that has you moaning out again.
you hear rafe chuckle at your reaction, the sides of your lips also quirking up, when you suddenly feel a hairbrush running through your strands.
you scrunch your face up and give it a moment, hoping rafe would stop when he suddenly brushes through a tangle, making you cry out.
“shit.” rafe drops the brush with a clatter onto the hardwood. “im sorry.”
you can hear the defeat in rafes voice and you turn over onto your stomach to face him, frowning. “baby? whats wrong?”
“i just can’t do anything right. i try to make you breakfast, you have to leave. i take your car to be serviced, and i miss out and spending time with you. i can’t even brush your hair all romantically like the guide said.”
“guide?” you question, grabbing your shirt and putting it back on as you pull rafe up to sit on the bed next to you.
“i… i read something online. about acts of service you can do for your partner. i just want to be a good boyfriend.”
you don’t mean to, but a laugh falls from your lips. “rafe, that’s ridiculous. you’re already the best boyfriend without even trying. did i say or do something to make you feel like you needed to try harder?”
“no-” rafe sighs, knowing he has to admit it. “i just heard you talking with your friend about love languages. i’m trying to make it up to you.”
“and the guide told you to brush my hair?” you scoff. “im guessing whoever wrote that did not have curls.”
“you're probably right.” rafe lets a smile come to his face.
“i love you for you, not because of the things you do for me. besides, you do enough without even trying or following some guide. you take out the trash, you stock up on my favorite treats, you get me anything i want whenever i feel the slightest bit ill.”
“so… you don’t want me to do the last thing on the guide?”
“depends what it is.” you shrug. “if it involves you leaving and doing something for me, then absolutely not. or at least you can take me with you.”
“i set up a romantic movie night in the living room.”
“that sounds much better for both of us than you brushing my hair.” you giggle.
act 5
you tuck yourself further into rafes side, smiling as your favorite scene finishes, turning your attention to rafe.
“thank you for doing all this for me.” you whisper, keeping your voice soft. “i love you so much.”
“i love you.” rafe says earnestly, ducking his head to press a kiss against the top of your head, but you’re quick to reposition so your lips can meet.
“now we have to figure out your love language so i can do things for you.” you tell rafe.
“my love language is you.” rafe says, squeezing you tightly. “my everything is you.”
sfw tags: @winterrrnight @cameronswiftie @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen @drewsephrry @wearemadeofstardust0
#rafe fluff#rafe cameron fluff#obx fluff#outer banks fluff#rafe fic#rafe fanfic#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe x oc#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x oc#rafe cameron x reader#rafe imagine#rafe blurb#rafe drabble#rafe one shot#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron drabble
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BLOG UPDATE 10-30-24
[ID: A photoset of three images. The first two images are a parchment texture on a black background. The first image is white text, and a navigation sidebar to the left of the main body of text. The sidebar reads: 'THE KING'S PHYSICIAN, written by Elliot Z. Chapter 00: Asclepius. NEW GAME, LOAD GAME, SETTINGS, GLOSSARY, MAP, CHARACTERS, ACHIEVEMENTS.' NEW GAME is highlighted with a distressed scroll image. At the bottom of the sidebar are links leading to Twitter, Tumblr, and Instagram.
To the right of the sidebar, the main text reads: 'PROLOGUE: ASCLEPIUS.
The ground stinks. It meets your hands in a shower of wet mud, an explosion of sick and blood, soaking the spaces between your fingers. When your vision focuses again, finally stops wobbling around and making double of itself, you find your palms soaked red. You crawl on your hands and knees to the body in front of you. You turn them over on their back. A man, not one of yours, and you slap his face a few times before you realize his eyes are milky and staring ahead, unblinking. There’s nothing you could do for him now. You look at his legs and find them still facing downwards. They didn’t move with the rest of him.
All the information comes to you backwards — his bisected waist, the guts spilling across the dirt, red, red and so much red. You stand up numbly. Your horse lies dead several feet away, and you remember in your haze that’s the reason why you were bucked off. You try and look at something — anything — else.
There is nothing else. All around you are limbs and blood and battle. Everything moving so slowly, mosquitoes caught in cooling amber, a slurry of death. You feel lost, a scarecrow in a burning field. Your ears ring. It all feels distant. Too distant. You need to move.
You turn to see a flash of white steel against the burning sun, and weakly raise your arms to try and block the blow with what little padding you have on. You move so slow.'
The other images feature the same text. The second image features a black background and red links. The third image is yellow parchment paper with red links and black text. /end ID]
happy update day!! i have to be up in. checks watch. six hours. so the update is coming at exactly midnight, and then i'll queue appropriately. but steady progress is being made on tkp!! im taking a small break from greenwarden to focus on making tkp and erinys look nice as a side project to querying agents for my book. it's a process. yk how it is.
what you see right now are mockups, the actual product looks uh. well. it looks like this
far cry from how i want it to look, but im working on it.
after finishing the css, all i have to do is write and edit chapter 1 and it'll be ready for demo release!
also, happy spooky season! im working on something for greenwarden that most certainly will not be done by Halloween, but i think you'll like it. it involves costumes and maybe stickers. watch this space
#blog update#excited to get back into coding again tbqh#the svgs are frustrating but i think i can figure them out given enough time and sleep#unfortunately they did put me in charge of the fall cocktail menu at work so im scrambling#and dont have a lot of time to write#[my drinks rock btw. ill give you the recipes if you ask]#[i didnt sign no nda and i dont give a SHIT]
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little bit addicted
kathryn hahn / aubrey plaza / fem!reader chapter 7 | wc: 6.3k contents & warnings: nsfw, tickling fic, discussion of insecurity, oral sex, brief genital tickling, thigh tickling, pet names
previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
Kathryn isn't in bed when you wake up and it feels lonely and cold until you pad sleepily into the bathroom and find the sticky note stuck to the massive vanity mirror.
[Y/N] -
Meetings all day, fitting for tomorrow is at 6 today, call me when you see this
K
You pluck it down and purse your lips thoughtfully. You have no intention of lurking around her house all day after she's trusted you to let yourself out, but it does thrill you a little bit to be alone in her space. The loneliness is replaced with a distinct, warm feeling of belonging. You drag out some clean clothes from your bag and get changed without showering, with plans to go for a run around your airbnb neighborhood once you're checked in. You make yourself an espresso with the push-button machine in her kitchen and swipe a banana from the fruit bowl to go, then head out to your car.
Once you're connected you call, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel impatiently as you wait in traffic, until she finally picks up just before it can go to voicemail.
"Morning," she greets, her voice filling your car speakers. "You were really knocked out, huh?"
You glance at the time and realize it's already after 11 am.
"I didn't even realize."
"You figure out the gate okay?" she asks.
"Yeah, raided the liquor cabinet and started a dog fighting ring in the basement, too. Hope that was alright."
She chuckles and then sighs apologetically. "I'm sorry I had to run out. It was really early and you looked like it was the sleep of the dead, I wouldn't have felt right about getting you up."
"It's okay," you assure her. "I did really need it."
"What're you doing today?"
"I'm heading to the airbnb now to get checked in, and then I'm going to see when Riley wants me to pick up the rest of my stuff. After that just homework."
"And booze. And dogfighting."
"Well that's a given, I thought it went without saying."
She doesn't laugh that time and you hear someone in the background on her end speaking to her.
"I'm going to let you get back to it," you tell her. "Just wanted you to know I made it out."
"I'll see you tonight?" She checks.
"Yes." You take your exit toward your airbnb and check the time again. Plenty of time to get settled and get some work done.
She hangs up without another word and you try not to take it too personally.
-
The airbnb is surprisingly nice given how last minute your choice was. A simple bungalow, one bedroom and a stone patio in the back. What you're most excited about is learning on your run how close you are to the water - you follow the sounds of surf and seagulls and take in the salt-tinged air until your legs are tired, opting to walk the rest of the way back.
You unpack your bathroom essentials and take a long shower, noting that you definitely prefer the water pressure at Kathryn's, and then hang your clothes for the next couple of weeks in the bedroom closet.
Homework distracts your mind for a while until you start to feel hungry and remember the promise of food at Kathryn's place that evening. Throwing on some fresh clothes, you tidy up your makeshift workspace and head out to your car again.
The traffic is awful and you're glad you left early when you arrive just before 6. You're not the first to arrive but are happy to see Danny - you're even happy to see Lauren, despite her constant tense energy - and you make yourself comfortable in the kitchen at the island while you wait for Kathryn.
"I think I'm dressing you tomorrow too, gorgeous," Danny greets as he makes his way in, kissing your cheek. "You want to come see what I'm thinking?"
You follow him wordlessly to the dining room - one of the rooms you've never explored - and over to a rack of a few
dresses pressed against the wall.
You immediately focus on the dresses, chewing your lip as you pull each one in turn. Kathryn's voice appears suddenly in the kitchen.
"Dan?" She calls. He grabs your wrist and squeezes, grounding you briefly despite how you lit up at the sound of her voice.
"You figure out what speaks to you," he insists, leaving you alone with the rack of dresses as he heads back into the kitchen.
You try to fight off the distraction of knowing she's in the other room as you flit through the dresses slowly. They're all so beautiful but you're desperate for something that speaks to your personal aesthetic while also subconsciously wanting to impress your date. You settle on a deep plum colored piece, ankle-length and body-hugging, turning around with it in both hands. You're met with the sight of Kathryn standing in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room, and you can't keep the grin from your face at the sight of her in her own dress — black, knee-length.
"Look at you," you tease, stepping closer.
She immediately blushes, dropping your gaze.
"It's not too-?"
You cut her off by pulling her closer, grinning even more.
"You look so good. I can't wait for everyone else to get the fuck out of here." You nip at her lip as you kiss her.
She lets out a soft sigh against your lips and then pulls away sharply at the sound of activity in the kitchen behind her.
"Be good," she snaps, though her tone is playful as she turns away from you. You grin as you follow along after her like a puppy dog.
A couple of women you don't recognize around your age mill about near the sink and you feel a distinct jump in your chest, but Kathryn soothes it without even looking at you.
"Leah, Mac, this is [Y/N], she's going to be my plus one tomorrow."
Both women turn to you at the same time and while you can tell that they're both instantly sizing you up, it doesn't seem to be coming from a place of mean-spiritedness.
"Is that what you're wearing?" One asks - you don't know who is who, yet - and points to the dress in your hands.
You look down at it and then turn to look for Danny.
"Oh, uh - I... maybe?"
"I have the most amazing liner in that color, still haven't had the chance to play with it. Dibs on her." She reaches out to you and grabs you by the forearm as the other woman laughs.
"Ladies, I need her dressed first," Danny sweeps in to interrupt. He pulls you away and leads you towards the first floor bathroom and gestures for you to go ahead, waiting until you've returned in the dress to adjust it and eye you in it. You fidget as he circles you and hold your breath until he approves before you're rushed back to makeup for a few quick color matches and allergy tests.
Kathryn opts to lean on the counter beside you instead of sitting so the two of you can be closer to one another while she's put through the testing process of what appears to be a hundred different (nearly identical) lip shades. She's focused on her own makeup artist but her hands rarely leave you, and it takes you more than a few moments to stop jumping each time you catch a stray caress or gentle nudge while she talks.
You don't take it personally that she's affectionate with seemingly everyone - if anything it gives you the benefit of the doubt to be closer to her, no one batting an eye when you stay pressed to her side or she wraps her arms around you when speaking to someone else.
You only spend about an hour tops in the dress and half-done makeup as Danny takes some last second notes for alterations and shoos you off to change. Kathryn is observing the tidying up when you return with a sort of tense fidgety nature that you haven't seen from her before. You return the dress to Danny before approaching her, and stand nice and close so you can walk two fingers teasingly down the back of her arm. She lets you, still until you reach her palm and then captures your fingers in hers to still them as well. With you pressed so close to her no one else can see your hand in hers but feeling it is enough to keep you grinning like an idiot as you wave goodbye to everyone.
At the sound of the door clicking shut, you kiss her, pulling her in close and feeling the excitement of the fitting melting away.
Her hands lift to circle around your face and you lean in further, pressing your torso as flush to hers as you can until she pulls away.
"We need to talk about tomorrow," she tells you softly, "But first I need to show you how much I missed you."
You nod in urgent agreement and kiss her again; she chuckles as you back her against the cabinets and pulls back once more.
"Not here. Upstairs - I want you spread out for me."
You shiver at her words, locking eyes with her as she smooths her hand over her cheek and then slides you away from her, linking your fingers together to pull you along.
The staircase feels miles long and you partially blame that for being so out of breath when she finally gets you onto the bed, tugging down your pants while you wrestle your shirt off. She pulls her own off as well but doesn't undress further than that, once your pants are bunched at your knees, then grabs the center of the material to yank your legs out flat onto the bed. You giggle at the maneuver and then laugh even harder when she growls and playfully bites at your thigh, smoothing the movement with her lips after in a slow series of barely-there kisses. Lifting her head she gets your pants the rest of the way off and sinks off the end of the bed a little to kiss your ankle, then your calf, working her way up your left leg until she reaches your knee and switching sides to continue up.
You shiver and squirm impatiently, then let out a choked off laugh, knees immediately bending and pulling your legs closer when her fingers replace her lips and drag up both of your inner thighs at once. You freeze, her fingers pause.
Her nails replace the pads of her fingers and inch up further and your legs close around her forearms as you let out another singular laugh.
"Legs open, sweetheart," her voice is dripping with playful malintent and you feel white hot arousal cut through you like a knife.
She presses her fingers softly but insistently against your inner thighs, just centimeters away from accidentally hitting the muscle that would make you scream, and you slowly let your legs be eased open. She slips between them and rests there, pressing her lips to one thigh appreciatively.
"Good girl."
You moan before you can stop it, much moreso from the pet name than the sensation, and drop a hand toward her, searching for her hair.
"Mm-mm." She lifts her head and then catches your hand, kissing your fingers and then setting it aside on the bed. "Just relax."
You try to, laying back and closing your eyes briefly. They shoot back open when her fingernails tease over the growing wet spot in the center of your panties, skimming over the sheer material and making your entire lower half clench in surprise.
Your legs go to close but can't around her shoulders and head - you feel the puff of her breath, an exhale of a laugh, against your core.
"Babe," you warn, swallowing hard. You're well aware that she's now accustomed to your interests but that doesn't mean you want to ruin the moment when she's trying to do something nice for you.
"Could you cum from this?" she asks, and you pause, realizing she did it on purpose. Her nails skirt up the center of your panties again and this time it wrings a squirm out of you. Her voice is a little teasing, but soft with curiosity. You can feel her eyes on you, waiting for a reaction, but you steady your gaze on the ceiling.
"My educated guess would be 'yes'."
You have before, but only by your own hand, bringing yourself up to countless orgasms over the years whenever a vibrator hasn't been available; soft self-tickling and petting through the screen of your underwear until your clit couldn't handle anymore of the gentle stimulation. Her touch tickles a lot more, though. You don't have the experience of an outside party testing it out yet.
Her touch widens a little, fluttering around the outline of your labia and just missing your clit, you sputter into giggles and tighten your legs further but she isn't moving and isn't letting you shut her out.
"Kathryn," you hiss in protest, because you're trying to have Normal Sex with your Normal Almost-Girlfriend who, sure, tied you to her bed and tickled you to tears once but is very likely to grow tired of indulging you soon if you keep over-saturating your activities like this.
She lifts her head and this time you do look. She catches your eye and laughs at your expression.
"What?" She asks.
"That - I'm-"
She waits patiently, one brow raising as if daring you to try to string a sentence together. When you don't, she hums, and then hooks her fingers into the hips of your underwear to pull them down.
You feel much more vulnerable now than you did that first night in her bed, with her hand tucked down your underwear while she whispered in your ear.
"There she is." She punctuates it with a kiss, and you barely manage to stay flat on your back from shock of her mouth on you.
"Fuck," you breathe, a hand lifting to go for her hair again before remembering her earlier instruction and dropping it to the bed, gripping a fistful of the sheets.
She wastes no time in lapping at you purposefully, her hands sliding under your legs and around them to keep them gently held open. Soft noises spill out of you as she makes quick work of figuring you out, what kind of depth you like, her pacing, and her ferocity.
"You're so good at that," you say compulsively. It's true, but you will yourself to shut the fuck up as she makes a noise of acknowledgement and then pulls away. Pressing her lips to the crease of your thigh, she catches her breath for a beat. That tickles, enough to make your legs jolt again and your torso stiffen.
"Are you okay?" she asks, and you know she's picking up on your cagey energy. You lift your head to meet her eye.
"Yeah," you lie quickly, feeling your cheeks burn. "Yeah, I'm good."
She narrows her eyes in thought.
"You wanna try something?"
You quirk an eyebrow and nod slowly, letting your head drop back and then yelping in surprise when she drags all ten of her nails softly up the insides of your legs, from knee to groin.
You're laughing by the time she reaches her destination, gripping her hands in your own and trying to close your legs around them. She wedges herself effortlessly back between them and dives back in to work, shaking herself from grip to skitter her fingers up the backs of your bent legs this time instead.
Your laugh is almost a moan, your toes curling as she gets dangerously close to your ass and then makes her toward the backs of your knees. She's paused briefly for your reaction and when it seems she's deemed it acceptable, her tongue slides inside of you and her fingers quest around the skin above your knees for a new place to torment.
"Where'd you pick that up?" You ask, twitching one leg away and giggling when she hits a particularly jumpy nerve on the inside of your kneecap.
"No more talking," she replies, mouth descending on your clit again as she wiggles her fingers in place against your skin. Your blissful sigh stutters into a laugh and you clutch the sheets so hard you're sure they'll wrinkle.
The inconsistency of her movements distracts you from chasing your orgasm for a few minutes but soon the stimulation is too much to ignore and you feel it building in the pit of your stomach. When your laughs become whinier, needier, she relents a little, mouth never leaving you as she finds a rhythm in soft strokes up and down the softest part of your inner thighs.
It still tickles and you feel your muscles practically pulsing each time she passes over the most sensitive skin, the combined tempos all working on part with one another to move you steadily up to and then over the edge.
You rock against her and cum loudly; she lets your hand into her hair finally as you ride her mouth until you have nothing left to give, and then props herself up on her elbows wipe her face.
She kisses your knee and then makes herself scarce as you catch your breath, returning with a damp, warm cloth. She drops it between your legs and you jump before groaning appreciatively. She slides up onto the bed beside you and presses the cloth to you a little more, soothing the overstimulated nerves and cleaning you gently before she tosses it aside and stretches out on her side beside you.
"You know most people are twice as ticklish after an orgasm?"
"I did know that," you tell her, turning your head to look at her with a little laugh. "Why do you know that?"
"Because I wasn't a virgin when I met you," she teases, goosing your side in retaliation for the implication and grinning when you squeal and slap her hand away extra-hard before you can help it. "Ow, jesus!"
"I'm sorry," you laugh, reaching out for it and bringing her hand to your face to press your lips to her knuckles. "I'm sorry, that wasn't on purpose. Knee-jerk reaction."
She's still laughing though, soft and tired and content. Tugging the sheet up over your lower half, you settle in and watch as her face switches to contemplation.
"You're anxious, again."
You purse your lips and crinkle your nose a tiny bit before shrugging.
"A bit," you admit.
She exhales through her nose heavily, and you can almost hear the gears cranking and turning in her head as she considers this. Then, she reaches over and brings your arm down between you both, stroking back and forth from your wrist to your elbow. Your eyes flutter closed and it forces a ticklish smile onto your face but you don't pull away.
"Tell me how to help?"
"I'm not sure," you say, honest even though it isn't what she wants to hear. "I'm working on it. Asking for what I want. I just don't want you to think we need to like... pull out all the whips and chains and hot wax every single time."
You open your eyes to find her watching you, waiting for that eye contact.
"It's not that serious," she tells you honestly. "You like a little... extra stimulation. Pretty low-maintenance ask."
You chuckle at the choice of words she lands on after her pause for thought.
"Eh, it's a little weirder than that," you say, smiling despite the self-deprecation.
She shrugs, her fingers continuing their tracing.
"Sex is weird."
"Sex is weird," you agree with a sigh, watching her fingers. "I'm working on it, promise. You promise you'll tell me if it's getting on your nerves?"
"Yes," she replies, her tone firm and unhesitating. You realize that it's because she's confident she won't ever have to have that talk with you, and your smile widens as you lean in to kiss her.
"Before I return the favor — you wanted to talk about tomorrow?" You slip your arm over her waist, drawing her closer and tickling your fingers slowly up and down her back. She squirms to get comfortable and shivers pleasantly before nodding.
"It's not going to be super big. It's a pre-benefit event, kind of a VIP interest check. I have to take some photos - you don't - we say hi, drink free wine... But I did want to make sure you were comfortable."
You nod, "Yeah. I wouldn't have said 'yes' otherwise. It's cool, I um... I've like... dated a few influencers. Maybe not quite on this level but I can do the whole 'plus one to some corporate swag outing' thing, no sweat."
"I was wondering what that was about," Kathryn muses. "That's the ex, then? The influencer?"
"I don't want to talk about Alycia," you tell her, realizing you've let slip her name for the first time. It feels wrong to say it in this house. You nudge her down onto her back and tangle your legs together as you roll on top of her and slip a hand between the two of you to unbutton her jeans. "I actually don't want to talk at all, I just want to hear you."
She swallows hard, then wets her lips. It's not your usual to feel such a surge of excitement from being in control but the sight of her eyes darkening as she watches you with shallow breath is reward enough.
You slide down her legs a little to tug her jeans further down her thighs, pressing three kisses down her stomach, skipping teasingly over her underwear to her thigh instead, then the other. The jeans come down to her ankles and she kicks them off messily with a noise of frustration, wringing an amused chuckle out of you as you crawl back up to slip your fingers under the waistband of her underwear.
"Is there something I'm missing here?" you ask, inching her panties down slowly. "Something like... something like how I like it?"
She shakes her head, already burying a hand in your hair, "Nothing missing," she promises.
You don't hesitate after that, licking flatly against her in warning before diving in hungrily. Her noises only spur you on, her grip in your hair tightening and loosening each time she loses control and regains it.
You decide, after a few minutes, to relay her trick to you. It's not going to be the same and you know that, not on many levels, but you can't help but want to give her a little taste of what she's put you through.
Your fingers creep up her thighs softly and it seems to take her a beat to register the sensation; she laughs just once, grabbing for your fingers when she realizes the intent, and grinding closer to you. You inch back slightly to keep the pace and strum your fingers delicately against the tendons on her inner thighs closest to her groin.
The sound she lets out is half laugh and half moan, twisting in surprise under your fingers at the first stroke and then dissolving into soft, defeated giggling when you don't stop instantly.
"Pleahehease," she exhales, clutching you closer desperately.
"Please what, baby?"
You don't even notice the response leaving your mouth as you lift away from her briefly. You give her a second and then dive back in, grinning against her when you hear her cry out.
"Please, 'm so close."
Your fingers twitch against her thighs again but you pause your tickling exploration to finish her off, flicking your tongue relentlessly against her clit as you wrap your mouth around her.
She cums hard and fast without any more warning, you feel her wetness rush down your chin and lower yourself to lap her up hungrily as she comes down. You wipe your face and eye her with a teasing, predatory grin as you crawl up her body to press against her.
"You know, someone really smart just recently told me the weirdest piece of trivia," you tell her, lowering yourself to kiss her swollen, flushed lips gently, just once. "Something about being more ticklish after an orgasm."
"Don't you dare."
It's a pointless demand, she clearly knows you won't follow it as soon as she speaks it. You descend on her with playful malice, savoring the borderline philharmonic first squeal of protest and laughter that you draw out of her before focusing your attention on learning her body well enough to draw out much, much more music.
-
"I know, I'm sorry I haven't seen you," You say into your phone as you juggle the key to your airbnb and your tote bag.
"It's okay, we've been busy with work. You still want to come over for the finale? I literally took two days off so I can grieve."
You laugh but try to keep your voice down; it's grown dark out very quickly and you don't know how nosy or sensitive your new temporary neighbors are.
"Of course I do."
"Did you warn Kathryn that I'll be breaking up with her by proxy if anything particularly upsetting happens?"
You laugh again and let yourself inside, dropping the keys next to the door and then leaning against it as it closes.
"I'll be sure you let her know. Put her in the dog house or however the saying goes."
"You're just getting home and it's almost 1 in the morning. You don't have the nerve to put anyone in the dog house," Riley tells you.
"Hey!"
"I'm just saying!" You can hear the grin in Riley's voice. "Oh, this weekend you're coming over, by the way. You can get your stuff and I want you to meet some of Jade's work friends I think you'd like."
You smile genuinely at that - her insistence in growing your social circle locally has really helped make it feel a bit more like home.
"That sounds good. I'll keep the schedule clear."
"I have to go, I'm going to be a wreck at work tomorrow. Tell me how the benefit-but-not goes!"
"Alright, love you," you reply, hanging up a beat later and taking yourself to bed.
-
You steal bites of pizza between the steps of the getting ready process in Kathryn's living room, and tease her about the abandoned crusts once again.
The glam team is considerably larger than it had been at the fitting. Lauren flits around with the second assistant, who has had her hands so full with phone calls that you still haven't been introduced.
Danny is around but busy, checking in on you both, and the dresses, flitting back and forth from room to room like a nervous hummingbird as you get your hair done. Your makeup artist - Leah, you finally learn to differentiate - was right about the liner matching the dress. A monochromatic moment on your eyes and lips and outfit draws an intensity to your gaze that you can't stop watching in the mirror.
"What're you thinking about?" Kathryn asks you, reaching over to squeeze your arm in the mirror as she stands behind your chair. She's been restless, pushing the patience of her own glam team as she refuses to sit in one spot for too long.
"The myth of Narcissus," you reply, tilting your head to the side to admire the way the artist shaped your brows.
It takes her a moment but she laughs a little bit, leaning closer and air-kissing your cheek to avoid getting any of her freshly applied lipstick on your freshly applied foundation.
"You look beautiful," she tells you. "I'd stare at my reflection too, if I were you."
It's surprisingly tender and scrunch your nose to grin at her before she wanders off again. Leah smiles as she turns to you once more with a tube of lip gloss in hand.
"She's so sweet," she observes. You nod.
It's an oddly powerful feeling to have half of the household know that you're together and half not; the best of both worlds or being comfortable in each others presence while also having the thrill of keeping up a secret.
"Car leaves in ten!" The second assistant calls into the room just as Leah turns away to put the gloss back.
"You're set," she tells you. "Pictures?"
You go through the motions of posing for some photos and videos for Instagram, feeling stilted and awkward at first before finding your footing and beginning to have fun.
"Okay, feeling herself," Danny comments as he watches you. You blush, turning away with a laugh.
"Don't hype me up, I'll snap out of it," you warn.
Kathryn pokes her head into the room, having wandered back presumably from her own photos, and whistles.
"You both have to stop," you laugh, before Leah finally has mercy and lowers her phone.
"I can tag you," she tells you, holding the phone out for you to put your information in. You hesitate, then take it and scratch at your neck restlessly.
"My stuff's private, is that okay?"
She nods, beaming, and you relax as you tap your username in to the search bar. Your own phone buzzes on the makeshift makeup vanity as she follows you and you turn your attention back to Kathryn, giving her a sly once over.
"Can't believe you're leaving the house like this, it should be illegal," you tell her, grabbing your phone and waiting until Leah has turned fully away to pack up her makeup kit to slide an arm around her waist to her back in a slow, appreciative caress.
She squirms pleasantly at the sensation and tugs her lip into her mouth as she watches you, tugging you around the corner into the kitchen so she can wrap her arms around you fully. The surprise of the gesture draws a laugh out of you just as the second assistant returns.
"I need my shoes," Kathryn tells you, and only then do you realize she's still wearing her house slippers. She vanishes silently as you turn to the other woman and smile, holding a hand out.
"I'm [Y/N]," you greet. "We didn't get to meet, yet."
"CJ," she replies, smiling and taking your hand. "You're Kathryn's girlfriend - the one that just moved, right?"
You're slightly taken aback for a number of reasons. For starters - you don't know who told her that or how much other information about you is being passed around behind the scenes, and secondly - girlfriend? Neither of you had used the word, yet, but if CJ was using it, if she's been told that's what you are, who did it come from? Lauren? Or Kathryn herself? Was it just CJ's own assumption based on 'dating'?
Is it presumptuous of you not to correct her if she's just come to that conclusion on her own?
"I did just move," is what you go with instead. "Well, sort of. My place isn't ready yet."
Before either of you can continue, Lauren turns the corner and nods to you.
"Ready? Showtime."
-
You're a squirming mess in the car - pressed between the door and Kathryn, with Danny on her other side, she takes seemingly great pleasure in tormenting you for the entire twenty minute drive. When she's not commenting on the silkiness of your dress, complete with caressing the material around your torso (though that game ended quickly after she accidentally ran her fingers across the center of your stomach and you shrieked loudly enough to startle the driver - her apology was genuine even if it was delivered through a laugh), she's stroking your knee and thigh 'affectionately', always seeming to catch a ticklish spot just when you've stopped paying attention to what she's doing.
If Danny is bothered by the pair of you and the handsy flirting he doesn't mention it, only asking for a selfie and then getting out with the pair of you to make last minute adjustments before sending you on your way.
"You okay?" Kathryn asks, watching your eyes flit over to the white-carpet entrance. You blush at her concern, nodding.
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine."
"You don't have to walk that with me," she promises, nodding in the direction you're looking. "Lauren's right behind us, she'll take you around."
You exhale a breath you didn't realize you were holding, and Kathryn's concerned look melts into a smile. She pulls you a bit closer and squeezes you once, softly, then lets you go as the next car is directed to pull up.
Lauren and CJ hop out, making their way to you both.
"[Y/N] is going to go with you," Kathryn tells Lauren, then jerks her head in the direction of the carpet, gesturing to CJ to follow her. "We'll see you guys inside in a minute."
You turn to Lauren and force a quick smile. She returns it but narrows her eyes playfully.
"You nervous?"
"A little," you admit, surprised at how quickly she read you. Are you being that obvious?
"Don't be." Her tone is a little stern but that's oddly comforting for the situation at hand. "Honestly, you do a few of these and you'll start getting really bored being in the back seat."
"I... my ex, we went to stuff like this a lot but..." you glance over as more people arrive. "This is bigger."
Lauren spots the crowd and gently steers you away. The pair of you pass by the entrance to the carpet where Kathryn and CJ are waiting to be called, and the former reaches out to squeeze your hand briefly as you go by.
"It'll be fine inside," Lauren is telling you, as you turn your attention back to her instead of the flashing lights and loud sounds of the carpet.
She's right - once you pass the lobby doors into the venue, it's quiet, the dull roar of polite conversation and quiet laughter surrounding you. She leads you directly to the check-in, and pulls out her ID.
"Hahn and team of 3," she says, waiting a beat for her confirmation.
"VIP to the back, carpet entrance to the left," the man at the table says, not even looking up from his sheet after handing her back her ID and 4 pins.
She takes you by the arm, patting your hand reassuringly and then leads you off toward the hallway.
"Have you ever tried their stuff?" Lauren asks you, nodding to the large banners stating the sponsorship to the event: some overly trendy canned-wine that you've seen pushed into the ads of your social media feeds a few times. You shake your head.
"Should I have?" you ask, amused.
"Not really," Lauren replies. "Just making conversation. They sent a fucking pallet over last week, I took a couple cases home but I almost never drink at night anymore now that they upped my fucking Pantoprazole again."
She's looking at her phone, not you, so you turn your gaze out to the end of the carpet now that you've reached the end of the hall.
"You said your ex was an influencer?"
Her question draws your gaze away from trying to peek out and see who is finishing their photo walk next.
"Mm?"
"Your ex. The one you mentioned. You guys used to do this stuff?"
"Yeah," you reply, wishing you hadn't brought her up at all.
"Well, you know how she's sort of... the billboard?"
You understand the metaphor instinctively, and nod.
"That makes her -" she nods toward the doors.
"- The ad push. The fans are the billboards."
Lauren stops to look at you, quirking an eyebrow and then nodding slowly.
"Yeah. What did you say you were studying?"
"Marketing," you chuckle, dropping her gaze and then barely holding back a gasp when your favorite artist suddenly passes, her own assistant in tow.
"Sorry, excuse me," she sidles past you with a smile, and you completely forget how to speak until she's walked entirely away. You catch Lauren's eye and see her holding back a barely-concealed look of amusement.
"I'm normally cooler than that," you insist.
She holds her hands up in defense, but doesn't have time to rib you about it when CJ slips in as well, taking a spot beside Lauren.
"She good?"
"Yeah, she's so on," CJ replies; Lauren's posture sags in relief and CJ turns to you, giving you a little two-finger wave in greeting as if you don't just see her moments before. Lauren shakes the pins into the palm of her hand, offering one to each of you and then beginning to fasten her own.
"Cardboard?" CJ questions as she turns it over in her hands. You peer at your own - the ecology initiative name and the wine brand competing for space on its surface.
"Recycled," Lauren explains.
"Oh, that is so fucking gimmicky," CJ laughs, fastening her own pin as well.
You're in the middle of trying to decide where to fasten your own, not wanting to mar the perfect surface of your borrowed dress, when Kathryn makes her way in and the four of you step away from the door. She looks almost out of breath, but she turns to you with a smile.
"Bored, yet?" She asks.
"No," you insist, "No, this is nice."
She takes your pin from you and fastens it so it hangs from one of the string straps of the dress instead of piercing through it, the backs of her fingers brushing over your shoulder and chest softly as she lets it fall back into place. That tiny act of intimacy makes you smile widely, trying to bite it back when she catches your eye.
"Alright," she announces, glancing back to Lauren and CJ, who already have a few of the carpet photos pulled up on their phone screens, comparing them together. "I need a drink. Which is apparently going to be canned wine. Let's go."
She turns, linking her arm into yours, and leads the charge back down the hall to the lobby.
#kathryn hahn x reader#tickling fic#a slightly shorter update today but chapter 8 is gonna be looooong#my fics#little bit addicted#aubrey plaza x reader fic#kathryn hahn x reader fic#tickle fic#t word blog#t word community
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2012 Shermie Pines residence:
Shermie Pines never claimed to be a smart man. But he wasn't no fool either. Especially when it came to his sneaky grandchildren. For the past few weeks now, he'd noticed Dipper and Mabel acting a bit suspicious to put it bluntly. Shared looks and whispered conversations between them, and the too wide smiles they'd put on when he confronted them. It was obvious that they were hiding something. He just didn't expect it to be this.
Shermie stood in front of the kitchen sink, washing a few dishes while he listened to his son talk. The younger man was talking about sending the twins somewhere for the upcoming summer holidays while he and his wife started the proceedings of their divorce. The older gentleman let out a hum before asking.
"Any ideas as to where you're gonna send the little rascals? And who you're sending them with?"
Shermie's son let out a noise passing a few mugs towards him.
"Well, funnily enough Dipper and Mabel already have a place they're wanting to go. That one place you talk about in those silly spooky stories. Uh Gravity Falls I think-"
The younger man didn't even finish before the sound of a mug shattering in the sink startled him. Shermie blinked in surprise, staring at the mug he'd just dropped. Trying to process what he'd just heard. A sense of unease filled him. Gravity Falls, Oregon. Of all the places to want to spend the summer, that's where his grandchildren wanted to go. Suddenly, their sneaky behavior made sense. Shermie took a shaky breath, focusing instead on cleaning up ceramic glass. If he was honest with himself, he should have seen this coming. After all, Shermie was the one who told them stories about the place. And of the broadcasting station that was once a big hit in the 80s. It was natural that they'd want to check it out. After all, his little rascals were always going on adventures and solving mysteries.
'Just like Stanford and Stanley. Always curious, even when it wouldn't do them any good....'
He thought his heart aching at the thought of his younger brothers. He felt himself drift as he recalled them, their memories still crystal clear to him even after thirty years. Thirty years since he and his ma had lost them. Since Gravity Falls had taken them from them, leaving no trace behind.
'And now Mabel and Dipper wanted to go there.'
The reality of it made his stomach drop. Meanwhile his son, oblivious to his father's turmoil continued on.
"Honestly dad, we've both done research on the place and it seems perfect. It's small, not a lot of crime or anything and it's out in the grand wide open. Giving them plenty of space to run around. Me and their mom are considering it, and we were wondering if maybe you'd like to accompany them....?"
His son trailed off looking at him. Shermie stayed silent, debating on his next course of action. He could say no, could cut this all in the bud. It would be the smart thing to do. But......
Flashes of Stanley's smiling face and of Stanford's starry eyed gaze appeared then disappeared. Again leaving him aching something fierce. Shermie Pines never claimed to be a smart man, and he was no fool. But when it came to his family......well he may as well be incredibly stupid.
".....Alrighty. I'll accompany the kids, got nothing better to do anyway."
The oldest Pines said earning a relieved look from his son.
"Ah thank you dad! I really appreciate it, me and the missus will cover the expenses and-"
And as his son rambled on, Shermie felt a sense of dread and anticipation consume him. He knows it was a long shot possibly seeing his brothers after all these years. Especially when he and his ma and Mrs. Mcgucket had failed in locating them all those years ago. But perhaps going there would help him move on. Maybe after all these years Sherman Pines could finally have some closure.
If only the world made it that easy......
#oli talks#ooc#muns ramblings#mindless ramblings of a madman#my writing#gravity falls#gf#gravity falls au#gf au#mystery podcast trio#gravity falls shermie#gravity falls stanley#gravity falls stanford#gravity falls caryn#gravity falls mabel#gravity falls dipper#gf stanley#gf stanford#gf shermie#gf mabel#gf dipper#stanley pines#stanford pines#mabel pines#dipper pines#shermie pines#caryn pines#stan twins#pines twins#pines family
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City of Love II - Matt Sturniolo
Pairings - Matt Sturniolo x fem!Reader Summary - part two of City of Love. Matt makes plans for another dinner-movie night, gifting you a sweet housewarming gift. The sore topic of your previous long-term relationship comes to light, leaving Matt to wonder if you're still stuck on your ex. Warnings - strong language. Fluff!! Angst?? W/c - 2570 A/n - Heyyy lovely readers 🫶🏻 this is part two to City of Love! Let me know what you guys thinks, I will be continuing. Not sure how many parts I'll do yet, but I’ll keep you updated, so stay tuned!! Also, sorry for posting it so late. I had to grocery shopping when I got off work😭 City of Love is based off of this request! ��️ Check out my masterlist for more of my work! Thank you for reading & interacting! (Dividers and photos are not mine; all credits go to original owners) Tags - @lvrsturniolo (if anyone else wants tagged just let me know!!)
The cool autumn breeze swept through your living room as you sat on the floor, unpacking the few boxes you had. Being a minimalist, you didn’t bring much in the move besides the essentials - dishes, clothes, your bed, bathroom stuff, and a couple random pieces of furniture. You felt like moving to Boston was your calling. A new start. You didn’t want anything in your house that reminded you of the breakup.
It has been more than a few days since your first night here. The night Matt had you pressed against your kitchen counter with his lips on yours. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it at every given second of the day. You and Matt hadn’t even talked about the kiss. Granted, he’s been over every day since, he hasn’t even made a move on you or mentioned that night in your kitchen. This left you feeling like the kiss wasn’t important to him as it was to you. It was like it didn't exist to him, it never happened. Wrecking your brain trying to figure out whether or not he felt the same connection as you felt, left you mentally exhausted, and it had only been four days.
An exaggerated sigh breaks through your lips, and you try to focus on unpacking. You knew you needed to get this done before Matt was supposed to come over. He texted you last night, asking if he could come over for another dinner-movie night. Even if you didn't know what was going on, you enjoyed his company. Packing all your clutter onto an entertainment stand you picked you last night. The 65-inch tv you purchased, along with other things, sits on top of it. Your house was starting to feel more like a home day by day, and Matt had a lot to do with making it feel that way. Constantly checking on you to see if you needed anything and making it a mission to come over every other day. You were grateful for the company; it made the heartache of leaving your best friend and parents behind a little more bearable. You were still upset over the situation. In a way, you felt like you let your ex-boyfriend get the best of you, running you out of town. Deep down inside, you knew it was different - The City of Love held a special place in your heart. You always had a hankering to find a love like your parents had - dancing in the kitchen, singing in the car, kissing in the rain, real, pure love. That’s what you searched for.
It was almost 5pm by the time you finished unpacking the boxes in your living room. You cleaned up your mess, preparing the room for Matt’s arrival. Even though your house was still bare, you wanted it to be somewhat presentable. Fixating on yourself next, you make your way to your hall bathroom, looking over your appearance. You fix your hair and apply chapstick, in case he had the courage to kiss you again. Probably not, but a girl could only hope. A knock at your front door pulls you from the ‘what ifs’ running rampant in your head.
You rush out of the bathroom, not caring to turn the light off behind you, “coming!’
As soon as you reach the door, you swing it open, revealing a nervous Matt. He had a gift basket with various items in one hand, and a potted aloe plant in the other. You take in the sight of him, standing there with his cheeks red as can be. It made you want to jump in his arms and attack him. “Matt!” you gasp, slapping a hand over your mouth.
He lets out a chuckle, “housewarming gift. I have Italian food on the way too,” he states in a nonchalant tone.
“Come in!” your tone being the complete opposite of his, excited and urgent at the same time. You had a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that Matt took the time to buy you a gift. Whether it was a housewarming gift or not, butterflies fluttered in your stomach knowing he thought about you enough to go through the hassle. You had never gotten a random gift before, only on special occasions. Matt steps inside, taking in the small changes of your living room. A newly added entertainment stand in your foyer and living room, along with a fuzzy rug and flat screen tv. The fuzzy rug being the best purchase, you were tired of your butt going numb from the hardwood floors. You follow his gaze, “my couches are in shipment as we speak. They should be here later this week, but I got a fuzzy rug!” you wiggle your eyebrows at him. You felt proud of how quickly you were adjusting to your new life, you were in a good mood.
Matt lets out a real laugh, “good. I’m tired of my ass being numb every time I get up,” he says, taking the thoughts right out of your head. It was simple things like this that convinced you your connection with Matt was something deeper than the surface. He read your mind almost every time you spoke, and it made you wonder if you had the same effect on him.
Turning your attention back to him, “this is really nice of you, Matt.” You didn’t want to let his thoughtful act go unnoticed. You were extremely grateful for everything he has done for you so far, even if it was just keeping you company and buying you dinner.
He clears his throat as you take the gift basket from him, “I know it's late timing, but in my defense i've never had to buy anyone a welcome gift before. My brother Nick helped me pick most of it out, he knows what girls like,” he rambles on. You stare at him for a moment, trying to figure out what to say next. As flustered as you were, you didn’t want to take the cute gift and potted plant as a romantic gesture. It was a housewarming gift, like he said.
“He’s gay so,” he trails on awkwardly. The unneeded information throws you for a loop, making you scrunch your face together. Realizing it seemed judgmental, you quickly correct yourself, “not like that! Gay people are cool, I just wasn’t expecting you to say that,” letting out a nervous giggle. Matt smiles at you like he understood exactly where you were coming from. He was the type to let his facial expressions do the talking before his mouth did, you guys had this in common - like just about everything else you talked about. You change the subject, redirecting your attention to the gift basket. It was filled with a plushie, a throw blanket, a pair of fuzzy socks, face masks, your favorite candy, and a cinnamon apple scented candle. You smiled, knowing he put together the perfect basket for you. “I didn’t know what candy to get so I got my favorite.”
“Yea, y/f/c is my favorite too,” you confess. You feel redness creeping to your cheeks, inch by inch. “Looks like I’ll have to pick up extra on store runs then, huh?” his comment makes your heart race so fast you feel like it could jump out of your chest and run around the block. “Nobody has given me a gift like this before. I really appreciated it,” you mumble, feeling like you exposed too much.
“Nobody?” he asks, astonishment spewing through his voice like a pot boiling over on high heat, “like, ever?”
You break your focus from the thoughtful gift basket to look at him, “like on birthdays and stuff. Not anything like this though.” You felt like you could be honest with him. When he was around, no judgment was casted on you, or at least that’s how you felt.
He lets an, “oh,” fall from his lips. Immediately cringing at his insensitive response, before he can say anything else there’s a loud knock at the door. You head snaps toward the door, furrowing your eyebrows. The ring doorbell still wasn’t set up, so not knowing who was on the other side made you feel uneasy. “Relax, I ordered dinner, remember?” Matt sounds over your shoulder before he approaches the door, pulling it open to reveal a man who looks identical to him. Your eyes widen at the thought of two Matt’s walking this Earth.
'What in the actual fuck is going on?' you thought to yourself.
“They delivered the food to the house again,” the spitting image of him states, in the same nonchalant tone Matt carries with him all the time. Matt thanks him in a dry tone, grabbing the food, and rudely shutting the door in his face. You watch as he brings the food to the living room, clearly thrown off at his brothers, surprise appearance.
You follow him, deciding to address the elephant in the room, “you’re a twin?”
Matt, on his knees, setting dinner on the rug that’s placed in the middle of the room, lets out dry chuckle, “you really don’t know who I am, do you?”
“Should I? Don’t tell me you’re a part of the mafia,” you joke. The sudden change in his mood made your head spin. You didn’t know which looked sexier, mad Matt or happy Matt. Either way, you were here for all of it.
An amused look spreads across his face, “no, nothing like that,” and he lets out one of those real laughs again. Something about that laugh made you smile bigger than you already were. His smile quickly fades as he picks up your tv remote, “come sit. I’ll show you,” you pop a squat next to him, watching him open the youtube app, and type in ‘The Sturniolo Triplets’
“Triplets?” you ask as he clicks the first video that pops up. Him and two spitting images of him pop up on the screen. You stand up pointing to him on the screen, who was sitting in the driver's seat, “this is you?”
“I'm impressed you can tell which one is me,” a smirk pulling at his lips as he gets up, disappearing from the room. You study the screen while he’s gone. They were definitely triplets alright. You could easily recognize the one from earlier sitting in the passenger seat. The one in the backseat seemed like he was a lot more bubbly than Matt was, being he was already yelling 30 seconds into the video. Matt reappears into the room with plates and silverware in his hands. You look at him, “first off, I can’t believe you never told me this, and second off, I can spot your resting bitch face from a mile away.”
Matt erupts in a fit of laughter, making it impossible to not join. Real tears come out of his eyes as he tries to collect himself, “I do not have a resting bitch face, Y/n.”
You smile at him, taking your seat next to him, “whatever floats your boat, Matthew.” Teasing him had become a hobby for you at this moment. You had a feeling Matt knew you enjoyed it, which was the only reason he’d keep it going. Willingly falling into your trap every time he seen it coming. He loved the playful spirit you had, it reminded him a lot of his mom.
You and Matt eat dinner, watching a couple different videos of theirs. Each video he clicked had millions of views, making you wonder how you never put two and two together. It was clear to you he was a famous youtuber with a large following, and it was crystal fucking clear he had millions of girls swooning over him, yourself included. And that intimidated you.
Little did you know, Matt finding out you had no idea who he was, attracted him to you even more.
You groan, setting your plate down, “I’ll throw up if I eat anymore.”
“Leftovers,” he chokes out with a mouth full of food. You watch him as he points to the take-out container, “too good to throw away.” You nod, taking a mental note from earlier; Italian was his favorite. It was your favorite too, so you knew exactly what to cook when the time came, if it did.
After Matt finishes his food, he turns his attention towards you, “you said earlier nobody has ever given you a gift. I need you to elaborate,” he tells you, almost like he's demanding answers. This whole week, you had found out so much about him and told him so little about yourself. Only agreeing with what you had in common, you knew Matt needed more from you, so you finally decided to let your guard down. “Like I said before, birthdays and special occasions, sure. But not random gifts like that,” you tell him honestly, hoping he’d leave it at that.
“No random gifts? What about valentine's day?” he asks, pressing the topic. You let your eyes meet his, shaking your head in response. “So, you’ve never had a boyfriend before?” his question hits too close to home, making you look away. Nervously biting your lip, “I've had a boyfriend before. I actually just got out of a relationship a few months ago,” telling him matter-of-factly.
Matt quickly turns his head to look at the tv, “damn. How long?” he looks at you again. It’s almost like he had to read your face when he was talking to you, but you understood because you felt the same way about him. You shoot him a questioning look, this time telling him to elaborate. He doesn’t say anything, indicating he wants to know whatever you’re comfortable telling him. “Four months since the breakup, together for three years,” you confess, feeling nauseous even saying it.
Matt raises his eyebrows, and you can tell he’s a bit taken back. “Oh,” is all he says. His eyes drift from you, to the tv, and he scrunches his face, realizing he sounded insensitive much like earlier in the night. “I mean, sounds rough. Four months doesn’t seem like enough time to heal from three years,” he tells you quietly, sticking his foot further in his mouth. He wasn’t wrong; four months wasn’t enough time to heal from a three-year long relationship. Matt being there helped more than either of you knew. For the first time, he didn’t tell you what you wanted to hear, instead he told you what you needed to hear. And you’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt your feelings.
“Yeah, well, he checked out a long time ago and so did I,” your tone becomes sharp, not wanting to talk about it anymore. You turn back to the tv, showing him you weren’t talking about it any longer, and hoping he’d take the hint. You watch the rest of the car video playing on your tv, and you can’t help but feel a light sense of tension in the air. Humiliation boiled in your gut, knowing you more-than-likely ruined your chances with Matt. He’d never take you seriously, knowing you were fresh out of a long-term relationship. Matt ends up leaving after the video finishes, giving you an awkward hug goodbye, shooting sparks up your spine like he always does when he touches you.
#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#matt x reader#matt sturniolo imagine#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo fanfic#matthew sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo imagine#matthew sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#chris x reader#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo headcanon#sturniolo triplets#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo#nick sturniolo#frat boy chris#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturiolo fanfic#chris sturniolo fluff#nicolas sturniolo
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Corroded Coffin Fest Halloween - Greed
Summary: Eddie Munson has some regrets.
Word Count: 1031
Rating: T
Warnings/Themes: Minor FOI compliance, friendship, angst, guilt, regret, self-doubt, self-hatred, desperation, implied trauma responses
Check Out the Main Post for @corrodedcoffinfest here! Even if you didn't start on the first day, you can still participate.
Tagging @the-unforgivenn @1lostsoul0fishbowl upon request.
You can find my masterlist here.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
Tuesday, October 29th 1985
Let the record show that Edward J. Munson was a greedy piece of shit.
Of course he was, why wouldn't he be?
He was an attention whore.
A power-hungry fiend when it came to Dungeons and Dragons.
And he sought fame and fortune through his band. Enough that he pretty much broke them up and abandoned them at the first chance when he knew they wouldn't be able to succeed, but he would.
Except he wasn't.
He wasn't those things.
Deep down, he knew he wasn't and his friends knew it too.
They'd forgiven him but he'd taken a while to forgive himself and feel like himself again after the whole demo tape saga. After the idea of a record deal was just dust in the wind, just like his dad, and Paige...
How many times had he apologized to Gareth and Jeff? Or Ronnie and Doug? How many things had he done to make it better? To show them that he meant it when he said that he was gonna be different.
Things were different.
Their friendships were repaired and new friendships were forged. Everything felt a little less dire now that he'd seen his life crumble before his eyes...and then repair itself through hard work and effort.
Things weren't just different, though; they were actually better. There was hope and determination; they could get places, they could make a name for themselves, if only they worked hard enough. No man left behind, no more dickery.
Well, maybe a little bit when he wrote it into a Hellfire campaign.
Sometimes he felt it creeping inside of him though.
It was never obvious until it was too late.
Until he was demanding absolute perfection from his bandmates, because he knew they could do better.
Like he did tonight.
They had their Halloween set at the Hideout to a surprisingly larger crowd than they were used to. Nothing awe-inspiring, just a handful of costumed couples pre-gaming before a party and some younger office schlubs looking to take advantage of Bev's $5 buckets.
But they'd been getting more applause than they were used to, and they all wanted to chase that high.
Especially Eddie.
They'd been doing alright, really getting into their groove. It really felt like that shitty makeshift stage was in some amphitheater for thousands because of that little crowd cheering for a bunch of metalheads dressed as vampires.
Then they got to a last minute addition to their set, one that they hadn't been able to really nail during practice on Saturday because of their Halloween pranking escapade.
In hindsight, Eddie should've have ever let that wrath get the better of him, but he was just so damn done with being treated like shit.
He should've known that, somehow somewhere, it would come back and bite them in the asses.
It started off without a hitch, they were in the groove...and then Dave fumbled the bass.
Actually, he didn't just fumble it; he wrecked their whole cadence and threw them all off.
"Sorry, sorry," he apologized nervously as the song came to a halt. "Sorry you guys. Let's start again. I'll get it right this time."
Eddie, thrown out of the headspace he got into when he performed, floundered as he tried to respond. And the audience snickered at their flubs. Which embarrassed him, and made him upset.
Which made him spiral.
They're laughing, they're laughing at us.
This whole week has been shit so far; at least this set should've been perfect. If we can't even recover from one little missed note, how do we ever expect our music to get us anywhere?
How are we gonna get out of Hawkins? How am I ever gonna get out of this shithole?
They're laughing at us, they're laughing at me.
"No," he commanded and then straightened his shoulders, ready to play again. "Let's just move onto the next song. We've practiced it more."
"No, Ed," Dave insisted and did his own self-adjustment. He stretched his neck and wiggled his fingers. "I've got it this time."
Eddie's short fuse, unfortunately, burned out in record time; he turned on Dave and got right in his face.
"And I said no," he said through gritted teeth. "We move on. We're never gonna make it one day if we're not perfect. You need to be perfect Dave."
"I'm sorry, Ed."
Sorry wasn't good enough. How many times had he said sorry and it still didn't make things better. How many times had his father said sorry and he still was the words
"Or you need to get lost."
The words were out of Eddie's mouth before he even realized.
And then all he tasted was the bitterness of regret.
For a second, he begged any deity or demon that might be listening that it wouldn't blow up in his face. He hoped that it would just motivate Dave instead of hurt him, but he should've known that it was too late. And that no one was listening to his pleas.
There wasn't a god or fate or devil controlling his actions; he only had himself to blame.
As he watched Dave's eyes darted back and forth between his, and he witnessed the tears built up in them...he knew he'd fucked up.
"Fuck you Eddie," Dave spat at him, voice broken and barely audible, and then he turned and stormed off stage and out the back door of the Hideout
Jeff and Gareth's protests and accusations at Eddie fell on deaf ears though.
He knew he needed to go after Dave and apologize; he knew he had to make it better. Instead he just stood there and replayed it all in his head.
Fuck you Eddie. Fuck you Eddie. Fuck you Eddie.
Until it wasn't said in Dave's voice. It was his own.
Edward J. Munson was a greedy piece of shit.
He knew that he was; you couldn't convince him otherwise.
He was too harsh. Too volatile.
And because of that, he hurt his friends.
But, as he ran after Dave so he could apologize, he knew he needed to make it better.
He was the only one who could.
#corrodedcoffinfest#corrodedcoffinfest: seven deadly sins#eddie munson#stranger things fic#eddie munson angst
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#shedinja#now THIS is what i'm talkin' about! i love shedinja. i think it's a very unique pokémon and wonder guard is very *cool* if only it were ever#y'know. relevant. this thing is weak to way too many types for it to be relevant but like it's still cool in concept i think#you kinda can't tell what it is from this angle but that's why you have me here to tag it so you do know what it is#so. bit of a life update for you all. i accidentally deleted some semi-important files i needed for work. like two weeks ago#and i didn't realize i did‚ bc they were inside a folder that i deleted. but i didn't need the files at the time and i hadn't for months#i hadn't used those files since like last year. but now i need them again and i just realized that i deleted them two weeks ago#by accident? and now i need them again. to be able to do my work. so i'm actually queueing this guy and the next guy up#while i'm supposed to be working. as i've just sent an email to my boss being like Haha Hey. Do you Have a Backup of tHese Files……… PLease#and i'm hoping DESPERATELY that she does. if she doesn't i'll have to fucking reverse engineer them which i am not excited for#if it comes to fruition. so i'm just hoping she has a copy of them. feelin like shedinja against a fire-type rn fr i swear#i'll let you all know what she says when i get her response. if i get it before i'm done queuing up shedinja and whismur#spoilers. whismur is next but you could just look up the natdex numbers. and know that whismur is next#also don't tell me to look in the trash. on my computer. i know they're not there. for one i checked and for two they couldn't be there#because i rm -r'd the folder. i didn't just right-click delete that shit. i killed that shit. it's GONE#you might be asking me… why would you do that! and i would say? i did not know these files were in there#you didn't ask for all this information so i'm cutting it off here
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230530 Dawon Message
Let's grow old together
I love you^_^
#dawon#dwn.log#etc#was clearing out screensots and forgot i meant to share this.....#i would gladly grow old with you lee sanghyuk#i already feel some type of way thinking about how i started stanning while we were both in our#'early 20s' and now we're 27/28 like....#looking back at old vids and like he looks the same but also so baby skgskshk 🥺#thinking abt how he motivated me to improve in so many ways ... i'm slacking now but i promise I'll get better 😭#anyway i did NOT mean to get in my feelings abt dawon but i mean. i cant help it. you know me#i know june just started but my mind really is already like omg dawon month coming up 🥰#he is truly my ult..remember when i would deny he was even a bias...hilarious#okay im done rambling im sorry i just 😭😭 like him a lot 😭😭#im gonna start writing fc letters to him again tho i really feel like he doesnt check fc as often as he used to#which is fair bc he already posts on sns & messages in fromm but stilllllll#i miss fancafe dawon#okay im done now for real#i meant to go to sleep 2 hrs ago????
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By all accounts, it shouldn't have worked.
By all bloody accounts, that should not have worked.
Constantine will repeat.
That, by all accounts, should not have worked.
The warehouse was shitty. The materials were shitty. The summoning circle was shitty. The chanting was shitty. The magic was shitty.
By all accounts, the summoning should not have worked.
So Constantine couldn't give much of a shit about really stopping it because the summoning was so shitty it shouldn't have worked by an means possible.
So what. In the ever-loving fuck. Was the Ghost King, known tyrant of the Infinite Realms. Standing in the middle of the circle and not, last he checked, imprisoned?
That was another thing that he thought would have made it fail, actually. Because the Ghost King was incapacitated, asleep, gone, unavailable, nada.
So what. The fuck. Was he doing. Here?
Constantine knew the day was going to well to stay that way but wow. The universe loves to fuck him over, apparently.
Or the Justice League in specific.
Or both.
Doesn't matter, because now he has to bullshit his way out of this or get ready to brawl for his life.
Good thing he's good at both of those things, then.
Mostly the bullshit-
"Phantom what the fuck are you doing-" Constantine wheezed out, watching one of their newest members-a ghost going by the name Phantom-fly over in front of the known tyrant and-
Oh.
Oh, holy shit this won't end well.
Ghost King.
Phantom. A ghost.
Well, shit.
This is fine. This is totally fine. He just needs to bullshit his way out of this or face two powerhouses.
This is fine.
He's done worse.
"Sup War" Phantom said, floating around the summoning circle that contained the king of all ghosts like it wasn't a problem. "Didn't expect to be seeing you here."
"Ward." The Ghost King inclined his head slightly, eyes trained on Phantom. "I would not have come here if not for Time's insistence and I have been meaning to..." The King paused, hands gripping and ungrasping the pommel of his sword. "...Check in... on you."
"Aww, were you worried about lil old meeeee?" Phantom, ever the little shit and holy shit did Constantine want to go over there and shut him up, said. Floating around until he was staring upside down in the Ghost King's face. "Didn't know you were so soft, pa."
"I am not soft." The King huffed, flame dancing at the edges of his hair. "I was merely... concerned. Over how you would be acclimating to your circumstances. This world's League of Justice covers far more than your small haunt."
"Weeeell, it's not that bad honestly." Phantom admitted. "Haven't really done anything too big yet just some smallish things here and there. So, you know." The ghost boy shrugged, swinging back in the air to turn upright and crossing his legs. "Nothing too bad."
"Good." The Ghost King nodded, shoulders slumping so slightly that if Constantine wasn't looking, he wouldn't have seen it. "That is good. Yes. Good." The King slightly cleared his throat, grasping and ungrasping the pommel of his sword.
Silence echoed in the warehouse as the King seemingly looked for words to say.
"Would you..." He cleared his throat again, squaring his shoulders and standing up straighter. "Would you like to join me and Time for a meeting? It has been some time since you had last joined us." The King shifted slightly before adding. "Of course, if you're busy you do not have too."
"Sure." Phantom said, rolling back and forth in the air as he hummed. "Been a while since we've had some family time-"
"Family time?" Constantine caught someone-who he thinks was Green Lantern-say. He was just as bewildered.
"And if Time sent you here then it must be important." Danny paused before shrugging. "Or maybe not, can never know with him. But yea, sure. I'll come."
"Wonderful." The Ghost King smiled. Smiled. At Phantom. "Then I shall. Leave. Now. To do. Things. Yes. Things." The summoning circle flashed a familiar green, the same green when the King was first being summoned. "Goodbye, ward."
"You can call me son, you know."
The King paused for a moment, blinking slowly before hesitantly nodding.
"Then goodbye. Son."
The circle flashed and just like that. The king was gone.
"Kid. What the fuck." Whoever said- okay wait no that was Constantine, him. But yea fuck it he agrees with himself. "What the fuck." He repeated.
Phantom, the brat, only gave him a shit eating grin and a peace sign before disappearing on the spot.
#dc x dp#dpxdc#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#dcxdp#dc x dp crossover#Felt like writing sum and this spawned :P#dark ages#In the background#Me when I realize I'm the writer and can write whatever the fuck I want#Characterization be damned I'm already fucked so what's one more sin on my list
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"oh my gosh! you're unbelievable!i cant believe you actually did that-"
Sukuna follows you lazily as you stomp inside your shared apartment;high heels clicking angrily on the titled floor. He flicks the lights on and rolls his eyes when you throw your purse on the couch and turn toward him with your hands resting on your hips.
"what?"
"what?!" You ask, bewildered, "you have the tendency to ask what?!"
You throw your hands up in the air when he childishly crosses his arms around his chest and raises his brow at you.
"you fucking broke that guy's nose,Ryu!!!"
"so what,huh?" He says,voice deep and bored;it makes your eye twitch, "he was flirting with you."
"he was not!"
"oh,yes he was baby," and suddenly,his voice takes an angry turn, "did you seriously not realize how he was looking at you when i was right there?"
"I should've broken his fucking neck instead."
And you take a minute to calm down;after all, knowing your husband,he would take all night just to prove you he was right. So you just sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose.
"just..." You wave your hand, suddenly feeling exhausted, "let's stop. We both know nothing good will come from us arguing."
And Sukuna, without another word,walks past you to vanish inside the kitchen. You sigh again and open the bathroom door; turning on the water and staring at your weary form in the mirror.
Just as you're wondering how the fucking you're going to wipe your make up,the door opens and your husband walks in. He rests a glass of water by the sink and gestures to it by his chin.
"drink it. You'll get a headache later if you dont."
And silently,you comply while watching him rummage throw the cabinets and pulling out your makeup wipes. You tilt your head when he instructions you to,and as he gently starts cleaning your eyes,you swallow thickly. Which doesn't go unnoticed by your husband
"what is it now?"
You only shrug,and his face softens at you defeated expression . So he just cleans your face,and when you're done,he pulls you to his chest and rests his chin on top of your head
"sorry i got so angry earlier," you mumble against his chest and sigh.
There's a pause where Sukuna breaks it with a grunt.
"and I'm.." he huffs, "not sorry for punching that guy."
You giggle sleepily and nuzzle in his arms
"figures."
"i will punch more guys if they check you out too."
"fine fine," you huff and wrap your own arms around his neck, "can we go to sleep now?"
And without replying, Sukuna is swooping you up in his arms;and goes to your bedroom. As he lays down by your side,you immediately nuzzle close to his chest and let out a content sigh
"so you've forgiven me now?"
And you smile sleepily without opening your eyes.
"I'll decide when you make me breakfast tomorrow."
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I NEED waitress!reader accidentally letting it slip that she’s got a date after her shift and so when bartender!simon overhears, he suddenly has a list of things she needs to do after work, causing her get to stay late ))): missing her date ))):
ANGST TIME
He's been watching you like a hawk for the past two hours - and rightfully so. You've been rushing through your tasks, rolling more than enough silverware, keeping your tables happy and stocked - you somehow managed to convince Soap to mop front of house for you. He doesn't like it. Why are you trying to get away?
"Got a date tonight." You tell him, skimming through your receipts as you sit at the bar and calculate your tips. You're not off the clock yet - you still have thirty minutes left. But the restaurant's empty, and all your tasks are done. Your makeup is a little nicer today, softer and less "morning after a deftones concert".
Simon's thankful for the mask, or else his frown would be impossible to miss. Is he dumb? Haven't you been flirting with him all week? Was this another one of your games, pretending to act innocent and coy, messing with him, then announcing you're going out with someone else?!
He feels his shoulders tensing as he watches you tap away at your phone's calculator. He shouldn't be so bothered by this - some things just need to be let go. But he can't. He wants to keep you in his back pocket, or in an empty whiskey bottle on his liquor shelf - not the one behind the bar, but the personal collection in his room on the third floor.
"That's nice," he grumbles, slicing through a lime. "Jus' make sure you finish your chores 'fore you head out."
"Already did!" You chirp at him with a smile. "Just need to do my tips, and I'll be done."
"Did ya clean the ice bins?" He asks.
You furrow your brow. "Huh?"
He jerks his head to the whiteboard on the wine fridge - sure enough, your name is scribbled in, right next to "drain and wash/sanitize ice bins + buckets", along with today's date.
You look back at Simon, your expression now crestfallen. Your date is in an hour, and you still have twenty minutes on your shift. "Don't you usually do it?"
Truthfully, he does. He could do it today, in fact. But his brain is acting on thoughts before he has the chance to consider the consequences. "Can't today, luv. Preppin' for a bigger crowd tomorrow."
Your shoulders slump. "How long does it take?"
"Well, you got to turn 'em off - one by one, I can't have two empty ice bins durin' a shift - then ya dump the ice, wait for 'em to warm up, then ya go in there with soap n' a rag, rinse 'em out, then-"
"God, can this please wait until tomorrow? I'll come in early and do it, I promise."
He looks at you sternly, and you suddenly feel ashamed for asking. "Wot, so I can pay you overtime?"
"Simon, please - if you do them, I'll give you half my tips for today."
"Now y' dumpin' your work on me?"
"I've got a date!"
"I've got my own shit too!"
You snap your mouth shut. He's never been this stern with you, but you know it's well deserved. It's your chore, after all. You'd been wrong to assume he would do it himself, despite that being the usual. You quickly hop out of the barstool and make your way behind the bar, unplugging the first icebin.
Simon watches as you scurry around, running to and from the ice bin into the kitchen, filling up bucket after bucket of ice and dumping it into the sink in the back. You pace as the machine warms up, glancing at your phone every few minutes, then touching the inside of the ice maker to check the temperature. After a few minutes, you're scrubbing the machine as fast as you can with a soapy rag and a bucket of sanitizer eater next to you.
Twenty minutes have gone by. You're supposed to be on your way to your date, but you're biting your lip, staring angrily at the ice machine as it cools down again. You need to wait for it to be cold before you refill it with ice, and only then can you start on the other machine.
You make another attempt towards Simon. "If I just do one tonight and do the other in the morning-"
"No." Simon snaps, his eyes angry as he drops a container of sliced fruit onto the bar. "This is part of havin' a job."
You look away from him, tears stinging your eyes now. You're so frustrated you want to snap back at him - but he's right, isn't he? Maybe you could ask him if you could just call Max and let him know you'll be running late - but the thought of asking Simon for anything right now (other than more chores) makes you queasy.
Simon doesn't know where the anger came from, but it's still simmering. He watches as you continue to run back and forth, filling up the old ice bin, unplugging the second one, dumping the ice in the back... he's refilling the bloody Mary mix and restocking the bitters. Simple things. He's got nothing to do after this besides go up to his flat and sit in front of the telly, or maybe chat with Soap before he heads home. Why didn't he just do it? Because you had a date, and that was a problem for him. Why? Now you're upset, and it's that knowledge that makes him finally feel the shame that he'd been swallowing down.
You finish dumping the last bucket of ice into the second machine. It's forty minutes after your shift ended. You still have to get to the restaurant you and Max were meeting at, which is a twenty minute walk. You were supposed to be there ten minutes early - now you're going to be an hour late. Frustration mingles with anxiety and burns in the forefront of your mind. But you can't be mad. You should've done your job.
Simon doesn't say anything when you run to the back, your phone pressed to your ear and tears in your eyes. You barely manage a wave to Soap as you grab your bag and jacket and flounder back into the restaraunt. You don't look at Simon.
"I'm leaving now, I'm so sorry- I had to finish up at work and it too longer than I-" you slowed to a walk, then a stop, standing in the middle of the floor. Simon was frozen, watching your shoulders shake.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize I had-... it's not an excuse, I promise I'm-... listen, we can go for a walk or something, right? Or go get fast food, someplace still open, just you and me, and we can try again another-"
His eyes burn in his skull as he watches you stand there for a few more seconds, staring at your phone as the call disappears from the screen. He wants to say something - but what can he say? He's already fucked you over. And he doesn't feel any better than when he first discovered your little date. He feels worse.
You stuff your phone in your back pocket, unable to hide the single, choked sob that escapes your throat. You shoulder your bag and stomp your way out of the restaurant, door clanging behind you. Your bike is still in the alley out back, and your unfinished tips are still on the bartop. He wouldn't be surprised if you never come back to collect them.
Soap emerges from the kitchen breaking Simon from his thoughts and wiping his hands on a rag. "Real feckin' kind of ye, Ghost. Never seen such a right cunt." He glares at Simon, before slapping the rag on the table and heading back into the kitchen. His shift was over, too.
Simon has three more hours left to deal with himself before the bar closes.
#bartender ghost#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley#ghost#ghost x reader#ghost x you#cod#ghost cod#call of duty#cod x reader
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begging for nanny!reader x hotch
aka aaron discovers reader is going on a date, our man gets a bit mean and jealous, things get a bit steamy and it ends with him begging reader not to go🙈🙈
right now
🤭 cw; fem nanny!reader, jealous and some possessive!aaron 😵💫, slight bratty reader?, heavy suggestion - minors dni wc; 1.2k
"Homework is done. Soccer bag is packed for tomorrow, but uniform is finishing up in the dryer now." You relayed everything on your internal to-do list, mentally checking off each box. "Oh, he has a permission slip for a class trip in his folder that needs signing. I reminded Jack to remind you, but just so you're aware, too. He's eating at his friend's, so you don't have to worry about dinner."
Aaron nodded along to your instructions. You looked throughout the kitchen, as if something would pounce out and remind you of something you'd potentially forgotten.
When nothing availed, "Okay, that should cover it."
"You're amazing, per usual." Aaron complimented, exhaling an at-eased breath. He glanced around the clean apartment, before discreetly admiring you. "I can't tell you how nice it is knowing things are taken care of here. I'm able to come home and breathe. Jack adores you. Seriously, what would we do without you?"
You blushed at his praise, warmth sweeping through you. "Happy to help."
"How was he today?" He asked, swiftly grabbing the mail from the table, beginning to poke through it.
"Perfect. Per usual." You shared, tossing Aaron a grin. Jack made your job tremendously easy - he was cooperative, kind mannered, overall the sweetest kid. "Although, I did have to remind him to stop leaving his shoes in the middle of the entryway." You added jokingly, as if it could be an inconvenience.
Aaron chuckled. His eyes squinted humorously as he quipped in return, "I'll have a chat with him."
Your smile lingered, fading away gradually as you began packing yourself up. "And thanks for relieving me early. I know how busy you are, so I really do appreciate it."
Nervousness pumped through your veins at the thought of your evening plans. You've been in the Hotchners' lives for a few months now, so casually discussing your plans should've come naturally, easily, but it didn't. Not with all things considered.
"No problem, happy to accommodate. You deserve to relax too." His eyebrows furrowed, tossing aside unimportant, junk mail. "If you don't mind me asking, what're you up to tonight?"
"I, um," Your gaze dropped, grabbing ahold of your bag. Your cheeks flushed, suddenly feeling very guilty. You took your time answering, "I have a date, actually."
He stopped stifling through the mail at once, his gaze lifting. "A date?"
"Yeah." You continued to pack up, throwing your bag over your shoulder and avoiding his eyes altogether. "A date."
"With who?" Aaron's words were harsher than he anticipated, causing you to freeze this time. He didn't like the concept of you seeing someone, not a bit.
Your eyes finally met his - his hardened stare. The expression awakened something in you, and you reciprocated back, your words equally as blunt. "Nobody you know."
You've never witnessed Aaron like this, and likewise, it brought something out in you as well; a newfound attitude. You wanted to disobey, solely to see how he reacted. He clearly wasn't happy, and you were entranced to find out more; curious as to what he would do, and hoping it was what you had in mind.
Aaron stood there rigidly, silently seething. The atmosphere had changed completely. No longer was it a light, witty one - but filled with the utmost tension.
"Well, thanks again-" Your hand found the doorknob, pulling the door open a few inches. You didn't make it far; Aaron's hand found the door above your head, pushing it shut.
"What's he like?"
You always caught whiffs of Aaron's cologne all throughout the apartment, whether he was in the residence or not. It was spicy, yet subtly sweet; suitable for him.
But now with his close proximity, mumbling into your ear, it was dizzying. You couldn't think straight even if you tried. You turned, coming face to face with his chest. His button-up was stretched tight against his torso, adding to the illusion of the strong muscle he possessed underneath. His arm had also stayed put, to the right of your temple.
You were caged in, and not complaining.
It had a notable effect it had on you. You wanted to be all consumed by him; you needed him to take charge, and you'd willingly allow it.
Your back met the door, as well as your head as you gazed up at him. You were lost with words, your heart thumping wildly in your chest, restricting any normal breathing.
"What's he like?" He repeated, urging you to answer. While his voice remained taut, it was joined by a condensing tone. As if he knew better. Knew you better, and you weren't the one to object.
Needless to say, he was enjoying this: making you noticeably squirm, and the fact it didn't take much to do so.
Your breath hitched, going fuzzy at the edges. "I don't know. A friend set us up."
"I think you should cancel it."
"Excuse me?'
"By all means, you can go. Only," His eyes flicked up and down your body, slotting a thigh between your legs. "What you're exhibiting tells me you'd rather not."
You resisted the urge to grind down on his leg, attempting to remain as neutral as possible. "Are you profiling me?"
"Maybe." Aaron smirked softly. His eyes were dark, a deep contrast to the glow you had witnessed earlier. "Maybe I have been for a while."
"Okay." You challenged him, forcing yourself to speak up. With an arch of your eyebrow, "What have you noticed?"
A delightful little laugh escaped him. As stern as he was portraying, there was still a gentleness to him. "You want me to touch you right now."
"What?" You squeaked out. He wasn't wrong.
"Don't interrupt. Let me finish." He leaned in closer, his hands itching to make contact with your waist - to firmly hold you - to dig his fingertips just enough into your hips to leave marks. "I see the way you look at me. I always have. Similar to now, only your pupils are dilated. Your breath has picked up so dramatically, it's almost amusing."
You remained silent, holding your gaze, while he continued.
"This is the closest we've ever been to each other, and by no means are you trying to move away. You have the space to." He relaxed his stance, to emphasize his point. "You're in no hurry."
You bit your lip, resisting the urge to squirm. You were getting worked up, arousal pooling in you - it didn't help with your need for friction.
"I haven't done anything yet, and just look at you."
A soft whimper left you as you forced your posture to straighten, slowly perching up on your tiptoes. Your lip ached to meet his. The gap between the two of you was maddening; you needed him on you, you on him, you didn't care. As long as the contact was there.
"Do you want me to? I need a yes, sweetheart." He inched closer, his lips dangerously close, centimeters apart.
And with that, you succumbed to him completely, scrambling to throw your arms over his neck and pulling his body to yours.
"Yes."
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x you#criminal minds drabble#aaron hotchner drabble#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fanfiction#hotch imagine#criminal minds x fem!reader#aaron hotchner smut#criminal minds smut
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ceo husband!Toji Zenin x wife!reader
Being a member of the Zenin family Toji has always followed the rules and regulations especially dining table adequates. Eating an adequate amount of food and not being able to ask for more since he doesn't want to gain any unwanted attention while sitting at the family table.
He remembers once when he was a little kid having the family dinner with his parents and other Zenin higher ups and while they were having some starters he dipped his food in sauce which was not served on his plate and oh the hell broke as everyone including the higher ups stared into his soul. It was as if he had done some crime, as if everyone was telling him that how can he be so selfish to think the leftover sauce was all his since now others won't eat it from there even though they wouldn't have.
Wanting to eat from his mom's plate or if he doesn't want to eat something then just giving it to one of his parents was never an option.
That's why Toji avoids family dinner when he grows up as an adult especially with you and his two little sons. He doesn't want his kids to feel the dreadful eyes if they eat while making open mouth sounds or whines on the dinner table.
But being with you he feels so free and careless about those stupid adequate that now since the four of you have come to a restaurant for dinner it's so much easier to eat freely.
When the food arrives and is served to your plates toji and six years old megumi gets their individual plates while your youngest four year old son is sitting on your lap as you feed him little portions as you too eat simultaneously.
At times you look down at Megumi to check if he's eating his food and you'll gently wipe the extra sauce around his mouth. Megumi leans over his dad wanting to be fed from him and toji complies.
"mama, can I have what gumi nissan is eating?", the little one on your lap asks with wide innocent eyes.
"it's the same food baby...", you chuckled and Megumi cut a piece and leaned closer to his little brother to feed him and the little boy oh so happily takes the bite making his nissan feel proud because now Megumi feels like he's just like you.
"gumi? You can't eat that anymore, can you?", you asked looking down at Megumi staring at his plate with his leftovers and you already knew his little tummy was full and he couldn't take in more.
"it's alright I'll eat on your plate", you replied as now Megumi was relieved that there won't be any waste of food from his side.
Toji who has been observing all of this feels like a kid again, like he's allowed to make mistakes and not get those dreadful treatment. He's glad that his kids don't have to experience the stupid adequates instead they can just be kids freely.
"uh...it's alright darling, I'll have it. You eat from the fresh one." He says making you look up at him.
"hmm? Uh alright.", you smiled passing megumi's plate towards toji and Megumi was already serving the food on your plate with his little careful hands. When he was done, he looked up at you with crinkling eyes as if saying mama, I'm learning.
You smiled and pet his head.
Toji moves closer and wraps his arms from the side around his family making you three look up at his sudden gesture. No questions were asked as you know sometimes your husband gets overwhelming love for you three and this big man gotta do something to relieve himself so he attacks you three like this.
Toji then pulled away and smiled to himself as he ate from his son's leftover plate and you couldn't help but chuckle at him.
Divider by @/saradika-graphics
#𝒶'𝓈 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝑜𝒾𝓇 ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶ#toji x reader#toji x y/n#toji x you#toji zenin x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#zenin toji x reader#fushiguro toji x reader#toji zenin#toji fluff#jjk fluff#jjk fic#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk toji#toji fushiguro x you#toji zenin x you#ceo!toji x reader#ceo!toji x you#ceo toji fluff#ceo toji#mamagumi#toji x female reader#toji fushiguro#jjk toji x reader
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jjk men reactions to you saying they're annoying you first the first time...
gojo, geto, toji, sukuna
💫💫💫
satoru gojo: you're overstimulated. your reports from last week's missions are due tomorrow, and you had forgotten about them because you had to help Nanami with training a few of the first years over the past couple days. while you despise the thought of having to sit down and write those reports, you have no choice but to knock them all out tonight.
tonight, however, satoru happens to want to come over to keep you company. you comply, but something in the back of your head tells you that it's not the best idea: especially since satoru is infamous for posing as a distraction in any and all environments, even more so when you're within his vicinity.
you're sitting at your desk with your knee bouncing, head in your hand as you listen to satoru talk endlessly about the new mochi stand he found while he was out today. your pen stills on your paper, mind flipping between your boyfriend's voice and the work ahead of you. you're already agitated that you even have to be doing this so late at night, and satoru has either ignored or completely forgotten the last two warnings you gave him to let you finish your work peacefully.
you can feel your patience wearing paper thin, brows furrowed until they hurt and your teeth sinking into your gums. your last straw is when you hear him stop talking and shuffle across the room to you, lean figure bending over to peer over your shoulder boredly. "are you almost done yet?" he groans, head knocking against yours.
you snap. you move your head away with a frustrated sigh and look up at him with irritated eyes. satoru sits up suddenly, playfulness dropping from his face.
"satoru! for the last time, leave me alone! god, you're being so annoying," you shout, turning rigidly back around to stare at your paper harshly.
the blue eyed sorcerer beside you goes silent, eyes wide as he processes the fact that you've just yelled at him and said he was annoying you. he, your boyfriend, was bothering you.
do you hate him now? are you going to leave him forever? is there another man?
satoru's ever so dramatic with his dejection, his hands lowering slowly to his sides as he stares at you with a blank face, yet tortured eyes. he breathes in slowly, turning on his feet. "alright," he tries to accept casually, though you can hear the hurt in his voice. "i... guess i'll go home then."
you close your eyes and exhale. "satoru, you don't need to go home, i just need some quiet so i can focus."
"no, it's fine. i get it. i didn't mean to get in your way, i'm sorry," he shakes his head, dispirited. you hear the drop in his tone in comparison to how bubbly he had sounded just moments ago, and you immediately feel guilty.
you turn around in your chair, watching satoru linger in your doorway with a sad frown, head hanging low and hand on the rim of the door as he looks at you with big eyes. you scoff to yourself, opening up your arms and rotating your desk chair around to face him. “come here, you big baby.”
satoru trudges over to you pitifully, steps dragging before he gets on his knees before you and plops his head in your lap, arms wrapping around your waist. you roll your eyes and run your fingers through his hair and down his back. “so dramatic.”
“thought you were gonna abandon me,” he mumbles into your waist, voice muffled. you lifts his head to peer up at you through white locks with a small pout. “i didn’t know you found me so annoying.”
“satoru, i’m already annoyed because of this assignment, it was just that you constantly talking after i asked you not to made it worse,” you tell him softly, smoothing your thumb over his check.
his sighs and nods, eyes lowering in understand. “i’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes again, sincerely. “i just get so excited around you. and i want to spend time with you.”
“i want to spend time with you too, toru, that’s why you just gotta let me get this done and then i’m all yours. twenty more minutes, i promise.”
he kisses your thigh. “okay, of course.” he stands, leaning over to peck your lips, then once more. “i’ll be back, i’ll run to get you some snacks. that’ll keep me busy so i’m not distracting you for a bit, yeah?”
you hum. “thank you, baby.”
he squishes your cheeks up in his hands and kisses you again. “alright, good luck,” he grins. “and please don’t yell at me again, i’ll die.”
geto suguru: you love suguru with your entire spirit, but sometimes, he can be so judgmental.
he’s not aggressive with his comments, which aren’t even necessarily horrible within themselves, but it’s the frequency to which he does it and with no awareness of how the small things he says can make you feel.
it feels like there are times when he can’t comprehend the fact that there are certain things the two of you differently, different ways you go about conflicts, and even different interests or standpoints you withhold. while there aren’t many, suguru often finds a way to make the differences you do have seem endless when he’s saying something unintentionally condescending about the color of nail polish you choose to wear.
today, you’re on your period. you’re in pain, uncomfortable, and in a rather foul mood. you hole up into your room, curled up on your bed when suguru returns from the store, rapping gently on the frame of your door.
“hey, i’m back. got you some pain medicine,” he smiles and you grunt wordlessly. suguru chuckles, making his way over to you and setting the grocery bag onto the foot of your bed as he removes the contents. he leans over to rub your knee, craning his neck to catch sight of your face. “how we feeling?”
“like shit,” you hiss and he coos.
“poor baby.”
“sugu, i know i just asked you to get me crackers, but could you also run into the kitchen and grab the chocolate spread?”
suguru tilts his head in amusement. “you want chocolate spread with your crackers?”
“don’t question me, just do it please.”
he smiles. “yes ma’am,” he stands up straight to head for the door. “it’s in the fridge?”
“no the pantry.”
he stills, and though you’re not looking at him you can tell he hasn’t moved. “the pantry?”
you turn around and look up at him. “…that’s what i said.”
he purses his lips downward. “oh,” he says indifferently.
you know what’s coming when he makes that face, and you can feel your agitation rising. “what?”
“nothing, it’s just… I would’ve put it in the fridge.”
you glare at him for a long moment, tension laced silence rising in the air. “why is that?” you ask with an attitude.
suguru gives you a face when he picks up on your tone. “um… well since you already opened the container, you should put it in the fridge to keep ants from coming in.”
you press your lips together tightly. “oh really.”
“…yeah?”
you scoff, turning back over so your back faces your boyfriend. “you’re so annoying with that shit, sometimes,” you grumble under your breath.
“what did you just say?”
“i said i hate when you do that, it’s annoying,” you repeat loudly.
suguru’s completely perplexed, stunned that you would even say those words to him. he inches back into the room, brow raising. “what are you talking about, (y/n)?”
“nothing. go away.”
the dark haired man has never been immediately moves to the other side of your bed so he can look you in the eye. “don’t do that. look at me so i can talk to you.” you sigh loudly, flickering your hardened eyes up to the shaman. he sits down beside you and looks down at your face. “what’s wrong? what did i do?”
you shrug harshly, looking away again. “i don’t know, suguru, it just seems like you’re always trying to prove that your way is better than mine,” you say, vexed. “you judge the smallest things i do and it’s getting old.”
geto furrows his brows. “i don’t judge you.”
“you do, you just don’t realize.”
“then help me realize,” he says earnestly, hand landing on your arm gently. “please.”
you look into his hazel eyes and see that he is being genuine and you huff. “well, just now you had to ask me if the container was in the fridge or pantry so you could prove that you would’ve done something different,” you explain. “and other times, you’ll do the same thing in different circumstances and just judge my choices.”
suguru caresses your arm softly, moved by your revelation. “i didn’t realize i did that,” he tells you, his voice gentler.
“you do. sometimes it’s like nothing i do is right,” you frown, and suguru’s swimming in guilt.
“that’s not true, babe. not at all, of course i don’t think that about you.”
you soften slightly under his tone of honesty. “you don’t?”
“no, (y/n). and i never would. i guess sometimes i just talk without thinking. but for all the times i’ve made comments to make you feel like that, i’m sorry,” he apologizes earnestly. “the last thing i want to do is make you feel like i’m trying to be better than you.”
“…well you do…” you murmur, losing the grit that encouraged you to call him out in the first place.
“i see now,” his hand slides up to your waist. “i’ll try to catch myself more, okay? i won’t make you feel that way again as long as i can help it.”
“you’re making it hard for me to stay mad at you.”
he laughs softly. “that’s the goal, baby. i don’t like when you’re upset with me.”
you wave your hand around, relenting your frustration. “okay, fine, fine. i forgive you, now can you please go get that chocolate from the pantry?”
suguru stands, leaning over to kiss you cheek and brush your hair from your face. “will do.”
toji fushiguro: where to begin with this mf… toji’s forgetful. he has no concept of planning ahead or structure, leading him to constantly let things you tell him slip his mind. he’s just as unorganized with his thoughts as he is with his finances, and it drives you insane.
you’re sitting at the dining table scrolling through your phone, legs resting on toji’s lap as he sits in the chair next to you, rubbing your shins mindlessly while he goes through his messages.
you see an advertisement for a movie you’ve been telling toji that you want to see, which reminds you that a week ago you told him to order the tickets so that the seats wouldn’t fill up. the movie is in two days, and something tells you to check for a third time this past week to see if he has done what you asked.
you look at your boyfriend’s dull expression, screen light illuminating his face. “toji?” he hums distractedly. “did you get the tickets?”
“hm?” he still doesn’t look at you and you purse your lips, putting down your phone.
“the tickets.”
he looks up, brow quirking and lip curling. “what tickets?”
you can’t be serious.
“the tickets that I’ve been telling you to get for days? for the movie?”
he stares at you for a long moment, silence enveloping the room. you’re normally very patient when it comes to toji’s nonsense, but at this point, you’re getting sick of it. does he really not care to listen to anything you ask him?
he clicks his tongue, sniffing before looking back down at his phone and smirking in amusement. “shit, nah, i keep forgetting. i’ll get ‘em later.”
you glare at him in disbelief. “are you kidding me toji?”
he picks up on your irritated tone and glances back up questioningly. “it’s not a big deal, i said I’ll get ‘em later.”
“you’ve been saying that for days.”
“and i’ll get it done, baby, relax.”
“don’t tell me to relax. you never listen to anything i say and you’re always waiting until the last minute to do everything,” you kick your legs off of his lap and his brows jump in surprise. “you get on my nerves, i swear.”
“well damn,” he snorts. “where is this coming from?”
“from you constantly not listening to anything i ask you to do,” you sneer.
“i listen to you, sweetheart.”
“clearly not, or else you would have bought the tickets already.” you stand abruptly. “whatever, I’m going to take a walk.” you go to move around him, but he grabs your wrist and keeps you still.
“uh uh, hold it, mouthy,” he pulls you back to him so that you’re standing over him with an angry expression. “i really got you worked up over this one, huh?”
“use your brain and figure it out yourself.”
he whistles, shaking his head and yanking you down into his lap. “so much sass.” you stumble a bit before stabilizing, folding your arms and looking the other way. “you won’t even look at me now?”
“fuck off.”
“you got some mouth there, girl, I didn’t know you had it in ya,” he wraps his large arms tightly around your waist.
“toji, you’re making me more irritated.”
“alright, alright, i hear ya,” he grumbles. “i’ve just been busy with these jobs, you know they take up all my focus.”
“you could stand to focus a little more on your girlfriend from time to time,” you mumble.
“i know, i’m sorry, doll. that’s my job,” he agrees, pecking the back of your neck. “hand me my phone, i can buy those tickets right now while you watch me.”
you murmur incoherently, grabbing his phone and slapping it into his open hand by your waist. “if all the good seats are gone, you’re dead.”
he smirks against your cheek. “you’re kinda hot when you’re pissed off.”
ryomen sukuna: sukuna is your irritation personified. it’s hard not to be agitated with him or down right pissed when he has no regard for most, if not all, human concepts of decency.
and he’s so crude, everything he says or does has you whipping your head around in public to ensure that the police aren’t nearby to hear.
you’re actually out grabbing food with him when you reach your limit. you’re standing in line, sukuna’s arms folded and face firm as you scan the menu. just then, a man bumps into him from his left, trying to squeeze past to get to the other side of the cafe.
sukuna’s eyes sharpen as he slowly turns to look down at the pesk who dared to touch him, eyes slim with fury as the pathetic man apologizes profusely upon seeing sukuna’s frightening gaze.
“touch me again, and it’s your life,” sukuna growls, watching the man scamper away quickly in fear. you watch the whole ordeal sternly, then look up at your boyfriend in awe.
“sukuna, what the fuck?” you hiss, and he looks down at you out of the corner of his eye.
“the bastard touched me,” he says, as though that is explanation enough to threaten a random stranger.
“you can’t just go around and threaten to kill people over every minor inconvenience!” you scoff. “especially when we’re out of the house?!”
“are you attempting to tell me what to do?”
“oh my god, i’m not doing this with you right now,” you clench your jaw. “telling you to abide by basic morals isn’t me trying to ‘tell you what to do.’”
“and you should be fully aware by now that i do not care in the slightest what rules you humans live by,” he says lowly, your conversation barely reaching above a murmur.
“oh wow, the great lord sukuna doesn’t care? what else is new,” you quip sarcastically, turning away, furiously.
sukuna’s brows pinch together. “wanna repeat that, brat?”
“no, dick,” you bite. “fucking irritating ass.”
sukuna steps into you, glowering over your small frame while you avoid his eyes. “who the hell are you talking to?”
“who else?”
the king of curses scrunches the corner of his nose. he’s never heard you speak to him with such boldness in your tone. he wants to be angrier that you’re stepping out of line, but he can’t help but feel somewhat thrilled by it.
he leans down to speak lowly into your ear as you stare ahead stiffly, irritation consuming your mind. “keep this up, and you’re gonna be in trouble when we get home.”
“trouble my ass. you won’t do shit.”
and now you’ve done it.
sukuna’s suddenly smirking darkly, moving to grip the back of your neck tightly. the two of you are at the end of the line, therefore no one is behind you to see him reach and grab you. you stiffen, eyes sliding up to his. his crimson red irises shining with nothing but bad intentions.
“you’re talking a lot of shit today, woman. hope you still think you can run your mouth when it’s stuffed full.”
he’s insufferable, you think to yourself as your stomach tingles with anticipation.
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanfic#anime#jjk#jjk fandom#jjk season 2#jjk x you#getou suguru x reader#toji fushigro x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jjk headcanons#jjk men
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"Itadori-kun. Good. You're on time."
Kento checked his watch, clearly distracted, as Yuuji approached with pocketed hands. The shopping centre was bustling, a hive of activity around them. Yuuji ruffled his own hair, unsure.
"Yeah, I just...wasn't sure why we're meeting here, is all."
Still distracted, Kento tapped off a message, before slipping his phone back into his inner pocket. He rarely offered smiles when there was business yet to be done, and today was no different.
"I was hoping for your assistance with a few errands before your school term ends. I'm sure you'll be busy with your friends after then, and I shouldn't like to take your vacation time. I'm sure you're looking forward to the break."
In truth, Yuuji deflated just at the thought of it; though he was an orphan amongst orphans, he didn't favour empty time in the way he used to, with memory and the devil as his constant companions. Still he smiled.
"Yeah! Can't wait. Got...got loads planned."
Kento read Yuuji, shrewd for a moment, before hyper-focusing on the task at hand.
"Quite. Come along, Yuuji."
Yuuji grew more and more flummoxed as Kento's list of errands tickered out before them. Too polite to question why, and with absolute faith that Kento had good reason to drag him along for the ride, Yuuji stomached it all with confused good grace.
Yuuji blinked, momentarily blinded by the flash of light in the photo booth. He grinned for the next photo, and Kento's cool deep voice rumbled past the curtain.
"No smiling, Yuuji."
"H-huh? How did you know?"
"Was I wrong?"
"Uh...sorry, Nanamin."
As a strip of tiny poe-faced photos clicked into the dispenser, Yuuji couldn't understand why Nanamin was so satisfied by such bland pictures. Yuuji was, however, touched; clearly Nanamin liked wallet photos as he liked his suits-- beige. Kento clipped across Yuuji's thoughts.
"Do you like the beach, Yuuji?"
Yuuji blinked. "The beach...?"
"Yes. The beach. Do you like it?"
"Uh...I guess. Why?"
Kento hummed, satisfied, not answering Yuuji's question. Instead, as he passed Yuuji his coffee, he stood and leaned around Yuuji, gently pulling at the back of Yuuji's collar. Yuuji twisted to look, baffled now, and Kento released him, sitting with another satisfied hum. He tapped on his phone again.
"Your identification documents are in your room at Jujutsu High?"
"Nanamin...what's this about?"
"It's important to take care of your documents, Yuuji."
"...so you're just...checking up on me?"
Kento smiled, polite. "Of course." A pause. "I assume you'd like to come back to ours for dinner?"
Yuuji brimmed with unasked questions. "I don't need to-- I'm not really that hungry-- honestly a coffee is great--"
"Mrs.Nanami has cooked extra."
"God, yes, please, I'm starving."
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
The summer vacation approached Yuuji like a black cloud. He could not bring himself to be excited for enforced inactivity; his casual offers to assist staff on missions fell on deaf ears. Gojo laughed Yuuji off with a clap on the shoulder. Yuuji smiled away the gentle rejection; he did not have the stomach to beg to work.
Instead, Yuuji stewed, leaning on his rainy windowsill until cicada buzz replaced the pitter-patter of water on earth. Late July arrived, unwelcome, and Yuuji steeped in a pit of dread.
At 2am, on the first day of summer vacation, Yuuji's phone rang. Bleary-eyed, and flat, he looked away from his computer screen and lowered his headset. He looked at his screen with a lurching gut; he answered the phone.
"Nanamin?"
A voice, rusty with sleeplessness. "Ah, Yuuji. I apologise for waking you at this hour. I need help with a mission. Are you available?"
Yuuji perked up immediately, tail wagging. "Y-yeah! Yeah, totally! I can be ready...er...in ten? Yeah?"
Kento's voice smiled. "Good. I'll pick you up."
Yuuji danced from his desk chair, shaking off his joggers and wriggling into his uniform with a grin, ruffling his hair before the mirror. In barely two minutes, he was ready, a spring in his step as he headed to wait outside. He felt so light, so relieved, and he grabbed his keys, opening his door to--
"Oh, shi--...Nanamin?"
Kento stood at the door, comfortable in loose clothes, and...sandals? It was an odd contrast to the backdrop of night, and Kento's usual attire. Kento smiled again, polite.
"Yes. Are you ready?"
"Y-yeah, I'm...how did you get here so fast?"
"The roads are quiet at this time of night, Yuuji."
A pause. "...Nanamin."
"Yuuji."
"Are you fucking with me?"
"Language."
When Yuuji opened his mouth to argue back, his jaw dropped, as you bustled up the corridor behind Kento with a sleepy grin on your face. You slapped Kento's elbow, shooting him a chastising look.
"Morning, Yuuji! Excited?" You pressed a kiss to his cheek, whirling past to invade his bedroom. Yuuji was speechless, horribly confused.
Kento checked his watch as you bustled around. Tapped his foot as you bustled around. Tutted, and leaned pointedly round the corner to stare at you as you bustled around.
"Darling, we're going to be la--"
"--don't give me attitude, Kento, we are about 6 hours early, and you know it--"
"--it pays off to check-in ahead of schedule--"
"--hush. I'll have words with you later."
Kento bristled, pugnacious. You walked out of Yuuji's room with his rucksack in hand. You pinched his chin, gesturing him along with your hand.
"Come on, Yuuji. Before Mr.Organised has conniptions."
Yuuji felt himself swept along by Kento, who still scoffed, mulish. The night air smelled sweet, and Yuuji found himself gently bodied into the back seat of Kento's car.
"--Nanamin-- I don't understand--"
You shot Kento a pointed look from the passenger seat. At first frowning, then with dawning realisation, you scolded Kento in disbelief.
"...you haven't told him."
Kento almost smirked as he rolled the car away over gravel. "I don't know what you mean."
You looked from Kento, to Yuuji, and back again. You reached slowly into Kento's bag, rummaging. Yuuji felt a glossy little book pressed into his hands.
"...a...passport?"
"...Kento didn't tell you."
Never one for expecting a gift, Yuuji couldn't see one when placed before his eyes. "Tell me what? Nanamin?"
Kento chuckled to himself, his eyes glimmering at Yuuji in the rearview mirror.
"Our flight is at 10:30, Yuuji."
Yuuji peered into the seat beside him; a new suitcase, neatly labelled with a luggage tag in his name. He yanked it to the seat beside him, unzipping it, and finding it full of new swimsuits, t-shirts, shorts, sandals, everything he could possibly need. He opened the glossy new passport in his hands, and hiccupped, his breath catching in his chest.
Yuuji rammed into realisation with prickling eyes, and a quiet sniffle, his eyes hidden in the dark. His reply was thick, stilted.
"Our flight...to where?"
"Malaysia. Now give me back that passport. You'll only lose it."
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gentle.
fluff. chan x fem!reader. no content warnings. unless you're repulsed (??) by sickly sweet boyfriendf!chris. in which case, look away.
"You alright?" he asks, ducking below the table to join you. You're sucking on the tip of your finger as you shoot evil eyes at the deceptively violent shard of broken glass. You'd thought you were being careful.
His fingers wrap around your wrist. "Told you to wait," he scolds. It's gentle.
That's how he was with you.
"Lemme see," your boyfriend says, pulling your finger from your lips with his delicate grip on your wrist. He inspects the tiny spot at the tip of your pointer finger until it beads red again. Then he wraps his lips around it.
"Do you think I'll live?"
His eyes lift to yours before they crinkle a little with amusement. Then your finger is freed. "Just," he says. "Lucky for me." His thumb strokes against your wrist in barely-there brushes. It's mindless; a common habit.
You've forgotten about your near-death experience by the time you're both under the covers, ready for sleep an hour or so later. Instead, you're focused on the tiny kisses he's pressing to your palm... then to each finger—soft, warm lips to your chilled skin.
His frequent treatment for your chronic cold hands often started this way. Like he could kiss the cold away in the same way someone might kiss a grazed knee for a child.
When he's done, you turn over—letting him tuck himself against your back the way he always does. His breath tickles your neck, another offering of warmth.
You grasp his hand to your chest, locking his arm around you.
"All good?" he asks, voice heavy as sleep closes in.
It seemed to come naturally to him, the checking in—the taking care. He was a giver, your boyfriend. Receiving came a little less naturally. He'd often duck his head when you offered him some of that gentleness in return, averting his eyes. It helped to whisper the words into the darkness at moments like this.
"I love you," you breathe, his knuckles brushing your lips. "So much."
His lips curve against your neck. And then, one last oh-so-gentle kiss.
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