#nugget couch after dark

[melk-maid]

warnings: everyone is aged up 21+, afab/fem reader, reader is nagi's girlfriend, cheating, weed smoking, piv sex, degradation kink, spit kink, begging, drugged sex, creampie, couch sex, guilty confessions synopsis: You show up at Reo's front door soaked from the rain and sobbing into his chest. After a fight with your boyfriend, you run into the arms of his best friend and quickly get over one man for another.

note: this is a commission for the darling @antique-remains!! thank you again for commissioning me and trusting me with this idea, and it being my first time writing reo/bllk!! i did have so much fun with this i love this downbad loser hehe enjoy~♡ minors & ageless blogs dni - you will be blocked

Reo shares everything with Nagi.

They share similar interests, goals and ideals. Shared living spaces, bathrooms, toothbrushes. On occasion they've shared a bed, shared food with one another, shared dark secrets no one else knows about.

So why does he feel an intense bout of guilt when Nagi's girlfriend is riding his cock?

Paper splits against Reo's fingers for the fourth time and he growls in frustration, clenching his jaw to stop a childish temper tantrum. He's one of the best, most sought after soccer players in the world, and yet he can't seem to effectively roll his own joints. Something that was supposed to relax him during the off season is becoming another pain in his ass. Nagi's words ring around in his head mockingly, grimacing at the fact he turned down having them rolled for him because he thought he could do it himself.

Unfolding the destroyed craft and spilling the ground nuggets onto a fresh roll of paper, Reo is soon distracted by the doorbell notification on his phone. It's a weekday evening and he planned to spend it alone — that plan turned around pretty quickly when he saw you on the other side of the camera.

After ogling at your pretty face — entirely ignoring the way your lips are drawn into a frown, arms wrapped around yourself in rain-drenched clothes — Reo realises you're on your own.

It's rare to see Nagi without you since you're often his point of authority, encouraging and babysitting him into training and attending other events. It's even rarer to see you without Nagi.

Reo is eager to open the door, catching you easily in his arms when you throw yourself at him. His heart races, thumping wildly in his chest. You've never been this close to him before and despite soaking his clothes, he couldn't be happier for the contact.

"Where's Nagi?" He asks before anything else.

It's then he realises you're sobbing into his chest. Words muffled by his shirt as he catches "Sei" "fight" and "kicked me out" between jumbled cries. While he often tries to stay out of his best friend's private life, Reo can't help but feel sorry for you; a damsel in distress in need of being saved. This will gain him favour with both you and Nagi.

The cold rain transfers from your clothes to his but he wraps both his arms around you anyway, pulling you inside and pushing the door closed. Each of your sobs echoed throughout the near empty mansion, bouncing off of white marble walls and back to Reo. Of course seeing you upset tugs at his heartstrings, but he can't help himself from being entranced with the way your chest is pressed against him.

While you're in his guest room changing into some dry clothes, Reo returns to the living room and contemplates texting Nagi about your whereabouts. He knows his best friend well, and even if he doesn't show care or worry outwardly, it's likely that Nagi will begin to wonder and worry where you've gone — especially if all your friends report back that you aren't with them. The idea is tossed out of the window and subsequently blasted into space when you walk into the living room. Hair still a little damp from rain, your make-up cleaned up, you fit into one of Reo's old football kits a little too well.

"Thanks for letting me borrow these." You say with a grateful smile, making yourself comfortable on the couch. The shorts ride up your thighs when you pull your legs onto the couch to sit sideways, nylon tightening around supple flesh and Reo can't help but stare.

Snapping out of his trance, Reo beams. "It's okay, anything for my best friend's girlfriend." It was a vocal reminder to himself.

Looking down at the egregiously expensive coffee table that houses his failed craft, Reo sighs short through his nose and drops to the floor to return to rolling. The mansion is silent and empty — no music, no TV playing in the background, no one else roaming around fulfilling their paid duties. It gave you an opportunity to watch, crawling onto the floor next to him; not close enough to touch him but not too far away either.

"What're you doing?"

Looking up he catches your gaze, heart fluttering as he wonders if you're looking at him like that on purpose. A sultry smile, curious eyes, your body leaning towards him ever so slightly. Every night he thinks about you; the way you look at him compared to anyone else, how your hands feel on his arms when you laugh a little too loud at something he's said. Sometimes it's hard to remember you're Nagi's girl and not his — unavailable, off limits, out of bounds.

Yet you allow him to do and say certain things to you that would earn him a fist to the jaw if it were anyone else.

His hands would find their way onto your hips if he passes behind you at the club or an event, the same hands resting low on your back when he hugs you. He compliments your outfits in a way only your lover would — Reo pushes the boundaries every day. By now Nagi should've said something — or you — but to maintain favour with his best friend especially and keep his football career, Reo tries to hold himself back on a tight leash.

The paper tears in his hands again, though this time he had hardly begun to roll. Instead, he was lost in his racing thoughts and battling a dry mouth after locking eyes with you, a little too rough with the delicate material. There's a furrow of his brows as he looks down in frustration, threading fingers through his long fringe and tossing his loose hair back. "I'm trying to roll but I keep breaking it. I should've asked Nagi to help."

There was an apology on the tip of his tongue at mentioning your boyfriend who you're upset with, but when he looks up, you seem entirely unfazed. Instead, you reach out and slide the broken paper towards yourself, taking control of the task and rolling with ease. Reo watches the way your fingers move so nimbly. It was like watching a professional at work. Sweat begins to build across his forehead seeing the peek of your tongue wet the paper. You smile as you hold the joint out towards him by the tip; easy work when he'd been trying and failing for the past half hour.

"Thanks," He says almost breathless as he tries to ease his aching heart. "I didn't know you knew how to roll."

You shrug. Careless, casual and cool. Reo can't look at you. Rather, he tries to find his lighter and remind himself you are not available, you are not single.

But the challenge makes you all the more tempting.

"Sei taught me when we first started dating." The way you say his name shouldn't be a stab in Reo's gut like it is. "Are you planning on sharing?"

Your smile was so sweet and mischievous as you looked from the joint to Reo — as though he would ever say no.

He lights up and draws a couple of breaths, passing the joint to you. When your fingers brush against one another, he inhales a little too fast, causing him to cough uncontrollably. You giggle and take your own drag, inhaling and exhaling with ease before checking if he's okay.

"Yeah," Reo gasps out as he nods, "Bad take."

Passing the joint back and forth, you each take your turn until Reo hit the filter, stubbing out the last of the flames in the ashtray. He felt a little more at ease, though expected the effects to keep kicking in. When your eyes meet — because you had been staring at him for his attention and Reo was trying not to indulge in his fantasies — you giggle and lean forward.

"Reo~" You sing, face so close to his he can feel your breath on his lips. It feels shameful to smile at your proximity but he couldn't help it.

"Yeah?"

"Why are we sitting on the floor? Are we teenagers?"

He licks his lips and balls his hands into fists at his sides, screaming internally not to reach out and lick your lips. Instead, Reo huffs out a laugh, responding in a low voice. "I was hoping to channel my inner teenager when rolling."

You hum and lose your balance, leaning forward with your legs at an awkward angle from being sat down, but your hands planted on the floor between you both. Whether you lost it purposely or not is unclear, but it results in your nose brushing against his and your lips barely missing each other. With a squeal and laugh you fall into Reo, head landing on his chest while he throws his back, mouthing a curse into the high ceiling of his mansion.

"Whoops! Sorry Reo," You giggle and crawl off of his lap, your hands a little too nice on his thighs. "I forget smoking hits me pretty fast."

Every moment becomes harder to tame himself. This is probably one of the first times you've been alone together — without Nagi, any other friends, paparazzi. It's the perfect opportunity to take what he wants, to indulge in this year's long challenge, but Reo cares about his friend. And he also cares about your relationship with his friend, of course.

Before he possibly gets too high and melts into the floor, Reo stands and reaches out to offer a helping hand. "Let's sit on the couch."

You look so angelic underneath him, even so far away. Hair splayed out across his floor, a wide smile on your face, vulnerable. Giggling, you reach out and let him help you up and throw yourself onto the couch. Reo is quick to follow, placing himself a comfortable distance from you — though that doesn't last long when you immediately shuffle closer to his side. Your bent knees on the couch are pressing into his thigh, resting your head against the back of the couch, he turns on the TV as a distraction for himself.

A random show plays, one neither of you recognise nor do you care about, honestly. Reo was more focused on keeping his hands to himself, sinking back into the couch and letting his high take effect. It felt like time was moving slow when all he could think about was you. Shuffling in his seat and repositioning his arms a hundred times a minute, he couldn't find a comfortable position that didn't involve his hands spread across your thighs.

When you giggle it pulls him from his thoughts. Turning towards you feels like he's moving in slow motion, as though his eyes are lagging. It takes his brain just as long to process you, realising you're looking at him and just how close you are. He smiles at your presence, laughter bubbling in his chest before sticking his tongue out at you.

Reo doesn't hear his own moan when your lips wrap around his tongue. He barely registers the delicate way your hand cups his face. Eyes falling closed instinctually, he leans in to you, chasing as you pull away. Your lips release him with a suckle, giggling at his flushed features. It doesn't feel real. Did you actually just do that? The sparks that linger on the tip of his tongue tell him it was real, especially the way he tastes you when returning.

Nagi's name is caught in his throat. Swallowed like venomous bile, he tries to convince himself you're not in a relationship with his best friend.

Instead, he mutters, "We shouldn't do that."

You laugh and he feels like a child who said something so naive to an adult. It wasn't your intention but he feels small under your gaze. His high is hitting him so fast — or maybe he lost track of time when telling himself not to give in to impulses.

"Why not?" You play dumb and Reo bites his tongue watching you tilt your head. Acting so cute and innocent, as though you didn't just suck on his tongue like a harlot.

There's a war that rages inside of him; one side fights for his best friend, his teammate who he deeply cares for. The other side fights for his personal desires, arguing that what Nagi doesn't know won't hurt him. You made a move first, not him — though he wouldn't be any better if he didn't stop you.

Reo is an international footballer, he can have anyone he wants. Women fall at his feet all the time. Super models approach him at events and galas for a chance to be with him, the most beautiful women in the world throw themselves at him, he's blessed to have the pick of the litter when it comes to relationships and sex.

Except they're all too easy. Boring and uninteresting. None of them provide a challenge or sense of danger like you do. As gorgeous and ethereal as you are, there's an added layer of risk. It's not so easy to have you. Reo can't have you eating out of the palm of his hand without severe consequences that follow. Although before tonight, you hadn't been handing yourself out on a silver platter for him.

His response is just as childish as he feels. "You know why."

Your grin widens and Reo can't be sure if you're closing in on him again, it feels like his brain is so slow but his heart is so full of excitement and desire. The sparks of your touch still burst like tiny explosions against his cheek and the taste of you lingers as a delicious treat.

"Don't you want to kiss me?"

It's whispered against his lips, a hum of temptation following it. Reo can practically see the words behind his half closed eyelids, it feels like he's going to start drooling if you don't stop him, but there's still a small part of his brain working hard to keep him back. Your nose bumps into his face next to his own and you giggle, a soft and delicate hand finding a place high on his inner thigh — he can't hold back any longer.

Reo kisses you like a man starved. It's aggressive, hungry and desperate. He would devour you right here and now if he could. Your lips are soft and wet against his own, tongues immediately mingling with one another like long lost friends. The way his hands grab onto you and pull you closer is a little more forceful than he intended, causing you to moan in response, noises that Reo swallowed eagerly.

All of this feels like a dream; the hungry kisses, fingers threaded through your hair, the weight of your chest pressed against his as he pulls you closer, your hand palming his half-hard cock through his pants. If he didn't think about it too hard, Reo would convince himself that none of this is real. A wet dream he had one night. He would wake up full of shame covered in his own cum, forced to clean his own bed sheets and shower away the guilt, vowing never to speak of it to anyone.

Except it's real.

Much like he swallowed all your moans, you happily accept all of his noises. The curse that's croaked out against your lips in a brief moment of respite causes you to smile, dragging your thumb along the underside of his cock that stands from your attention, sucking on his bottom lip with a hum.

"Still don't think we should do this?" You ask and it momentarily sobers Reo. He blinks and sees you so clearly, thinking about Nagi and all the times he's seen you both share a kiss. It must have shown on his face because you laugh, pulling back to lie across the couch, thumbs hooked under the elastic waistband of his shorts you're wearing. "What's the matter? Don't want to fuck your best friends girlfriend?"

You shouldn't say it — it only makes his cock harder. Twitching against the fabric of his pants, hot and heavy, Reo groans and pants like a dog. His eyes grow hazy as his mind begins to lag again, wiping his mouth where it feels like he's drooling. Your giggle bounces around the walls of his skull like a pleasant symphony. Even your foot on his chest that's keeping him from closing in on you feels like heaven. Reo wraps his fingers around your ankle, pulling your foot up towards his face. It feels right when his lips find your delicate skin, missing the way you pull down his shorts with underwear in tow, dragging his tongue and teeth along flesh.

"I didn't know you were into feet, Reo." You tease and Reo feels the heat on his cheeks. Fire on his face, it burns and grows when you hook your leg over his to straddle his lap. It's instinctual the way his hands grab your hips. "You're a little freak, aren't you?"

Talking feels impossible because none of this feels real. Mouth dry and at the same time oozing with saliva, Reo's mind roaming a mile a minute yet he lags in processing what's happening. Every few seconds it feels as though he's forgotten it's you in front of him. Hazy and angelic, he's living through a dream.

And at the same time, everything feels so very real. Your skin under his fingertips is like touching silk. The weight of you in his lap brings about a sense of comfort he hasn't felt since he was a child. Every slight motion of your hips against his cock is like fireworks.

Reo can and can't believe this is happening.

"I'm into anything you want, baby." He says, the words forcefully pushed out between the invisible cloth pressed against his tongue.

A collective gasp fills the room when his cock is freed from his pants. You were surprised and excited at just how thick and hard he was, while he drew breath between his teeth from the relief. Stroking him in a languid motion pulls out a long moan deep within his chest.

"Tell me what you want." You tease, still sitting in his lap with his cock in your hand, so close to your exposed cunt. "Tell me you want to fuck me. Say how much you want to fuck Sei's girlfriend." There's a curse that falls off of Reo's lips when you squeeze his sensitive head — he's forced to hold his breath to keep a squeak from following. "Come on, say it. You wanna fuck your best friends girl."

His head spins, flashes of Nagi swirling through his mind, an attempt to connect to his consciousness. The horny part of his brain is too much, though it still proves difficult for him to say it.

"Please…" Reo murmurs, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, as though it will keep him safe from judgement.

"Not what I asked." You squeeze his tip again, leaning in to bite his bottom lip. "How bad do you want it?"

"…Bad, really bad."

Reo's hands on your hips tighten, pulling you closer with a whine. "Then say it."

Never has a handjob felt so good and Reo fears he might cum already if you keep stroking him like this. Each swipe is an adrenaline rush, a pleasant punch to his gut. Grinding his teeth, he leans into you, face buried in the crook of your neck.

"I want…I wanna fuck you."

"You wanna fuck who?" Your free hand laces through his hair and Reo feels like he could cry.

"You, please."

"Who am I to you?"

His balls tighten and he's forced to take a breath and focus on not cumming and speaking.

"Nagi's girlfriend."

You hum. "Good boy."

How Reo didn't cum as soon as you began to sink down on his cock, he may never know. Teeth clenched, body taut beneath you, he closes his eyes and breathes deep through his nose. You're so warm and tight and wet, it's everything and more than he ever imagined. Everything has been amplified to the max; his cock hypersensitive to every little move you make, feeling the way your walls flutter ever so slightly as you begin moving, hearing each tiny pitch change as you breathe.

Of course he enjoys sex but this was different. Whether it's because it was with you or because he was high, Reo felt like he was in the clouds.

You bounce on his cock so easy, finding a solid rhythm fast and sticking to it as your thighs meet in the steady pattern. He didn't even have to do anything — just enjoy the sight before him, watch the way your tits bounce beneath one of his old football shirts. Reo's eyes were glazed over as he held onto your hips, convinced he was drooling like an animal despite his arm remaining dry whenever he wiped his lips.

It's sickening what you're doing. Cheating on a good man like Nagi. Having a fight and being kicked out for the evening isn't an excuse to fuck your boyfriends best friend. Reo wonders if you did this on purpose. Was your intention to come over and seduce him this whole time? Sure, he's been caught by you with wandering eyes and overly friendly hands but that's innocent. Never did it lead to this.

At the same time, Reo can't deny how his cock drooled over your hand when you forced him to tell you how much he wants to fuck you.

Even your moans are more heavenly than he ever expected. It's shameful the thoughts he's had about it, replaying everything you've ever said, every noise he's heard you make in an attempt to imagine what you'd sound like in this position. It's better than any music. Like a blessing, he needs to hear it over and over again.

You smile at Reo as you bounce in his lap, kissing him with hunger akin to a starving beast. It feels like you'd eat him alive if you could — shamefully, he'd let you.

Reo follows the kiss when you pull back, unwilling to let you escape him just yet. Your hips had stopped moving and he was left buried deep in your pussy, helplessly twitching against your warm walls, he leaks against your cervix. Wrapping his arms around you, Reo moans into your mouth, head tilted all the way back. When you finally pull away, you hold his mouth open with a thumb on his chin. The lavender of his eyes is almost entirely overshadowed by the size of his pupils, watching as you purse your lips and roll your tongue. Reo happily accepts the spit that's slowly hanging from your mouth into his, groaning when it hits his tongue. The taste of you is delectable. You giggle and follow your saliva, tracing your tongue along his to spread yourself all over his mouth.

Disgusting, immoral, so fucking good.

His hips begin to move into you, thrusting in the non-existent space he occupies between you and the couch. More, more, more. He can do this all day but he needs to feel you moving, to memorise the way your walls clench around him, permanently etch your moans of his name into his memories.

In a flurry of motion, you're flipped onto your back. Reo is quick to follow, not for a moment did he let you detach from his cock or his mouth when he moves you. The thump of your head hitting the arm of the couch rattles your brain but the pleasant high that fogs your mind blurs the pain. It's exciting when Reo takes over and fucks you how he wants, because he's relentless.

Much faster than when you were riding him, Reo fucks you like winning the world cup is on the line. He pulls out until just the tip is still inside of you, quickly and forcefully burying himself back into your heat, his pubes flush against your clit. Panting into your open mouth like a dog, Reo is at your mercy.

You cry out in pleasure, moaning his name like it's the only word you've ever known. It makes his eyes roll, balls tightening in his sack, his hands gripping onto your hips so hard you're bound to bruise. Reo has wanted this for years. Ever since he first laid eyes on you, he knew he wanted you sheathed on his cock.

When you wrap your arms around his neck and throw your head back, he honestly believes he's in love.

Your walls pulse around him violently, clenching and releasing, daring to milk him for all he's worth. He's on the edge and he's been staving it off this entire time. Never does he want this to end but seeing you finish like this was all worth it. His teeth drag against your throat, feeling you flex underneath him, you tighten around his cock as you whimper. He doesn't relent — all he wants is to fill you to the brim with his seed.

Licking, biting, kissing. Reo tries desperately to remind himself that he can't mark you. You're not his and the fact only makes his cock throb. Each stroke along your walls makes him dizzier, losing his grip on you and reality itself. Finally, he lets go, burying himself deep as he cums inside you.

Half expecting the post-nut clarity to hit, Reo is elated to find the haze still clouding his mind. Never has he experienced such elation. His mouth finds yours again in a lazy, hungry kiss and you moan into his touch. If he could remain like this forever, then Reo might never have any problems ever again.

Reo has a problem and it won't leave him alone.

Every night he struggles to sleep. His training coach has begun to point out the bags that rest under his eyes, scolding him for sloppy footwork and lack of speed. All his moves are sluggish and no amount of berating is helping him get his act together. When he's forced to sit on the sides and watch the rest of his team practise, he's left stewing on his own thoughts.

It was the best and worst night of his life. He thinks about it constantly, stroking himself to completion over and over again to the thought of you on top of him, remembering how you felt around his cock. The way you say his name, how sweet your moans are.

Then he remembers Nagi.

No one has mentioned it since. You haven't brought it up or tried to contact him about the night, not even to tell him to keep it a secret. That much was obvious but he thought you'd say something. He's seen Nagi numerous times since the incident and he seems none the wiser. Treating Reo like he normally does with a lazy attitude and disinterest. The normalcy puts him on edge more than ease his worries.

"You look tired."

It's embarrassing the way Reo jumps out of his skin upon hearing Nagi. Hoping that he didn't notice, Reo chuckles and offers a light "Yeah," in response, returning to changing into his regular clothes.

"Being tired is such a hassle."

With his back to Nagi, Reo rolls his eyes and grits his teeth. It's hard to look at his best friend these days — for obvious reasons — nevermind talk to him. He was hoping Nagi would take the subtle hint that he's too tired to talk.

"Yeah," Reo repeats, "It's hard sleeping with the season coming up."

There's a hum and for a moment, Reo believes Nagi has realised he doesn't want to talk.

"Normally you're excited."

Reo stuffs his sweaty kit into his locker; a worry for another day. Right now he needs to get out of the locker room and away from Nagi.

It feels like his chest is being torn apart. Hands clawing at his ribs, breaking one at a time, clambering to extract his organs so the guilt he feels can make a comfortable home. It's hard to breathe, hard to think of anything but Nagi's girlfriend moaning in his mouth. You were so beautiful. How can something so perfect cause him such guilt?

"Mikage?"

Finally, Reo turns and looks at Nagi.

He's laid across the benches in the changing room, shirtless with a sweat towel that once hung around his neck. As usual, his phone was settled between his hands, pointed at him but it's likely he's in between games. Nagi's face doesn't move while looking at Reo. There's no sign of life when his best friend's heart is painfully shown on his sleeve.

Reo slams his locker door shut, head hung low as he gasps for air. He can't say it. There's no way. Nagi will abandon him — as he deserves. The scandal will be blasted all over the media. He'll become public enemy number one and forcibly removed from his team. His football career will be over already and Reo will never know happiness ever again.

But he can't keep feeling like this for the rest of his life. It will kill him eventually.

Swallowing thick, he inhales and lets loose.

"I fucked your girlfriend!"

The changing room is painfully silent. Reo shouted the words with his eyes firmly shut. There's no way he'd be able to look at Nagi as he said it. His head hangs low again, staring at his feet and awaiting the barrage of consequences that he should face. There's immediate relief in his chest after the confession, but the longer the silence draws out, the more nauseous Reo becomes.

When Nagi still doesn't respond, Reo is forced to look up. It's hard — harder than looking at him with his secret — but Reo looks at his best friend. His face is unchanged; the same lidded eyes staring back at him, mouth pressed in a neutral and relaxed pose, staring blankly at Reo.

"I know."

Reo isn't sure how his legs are keeping him upright. His whole body feels like it's collapsing and he can't pinpoint any of what he's feeling. Relief? Regret? Confusion? Speechless. Baulking at his best friend, any and all words are stuck in his throat.

Eventually, he croaks out, "You know?"

Nagi hums, returning to his game and tapping away with his thumbs; as though Reo hadn't just confessed an affair with his girlfriend.

"What does that mean?" Reo asks breathlessly, watching as Nagi sits up, still focused on his game.

"It was my idea." He answers easily before standing and approaching the washroom. "Going for a soak. Bye. Peace."

Two fingers are thrown Reo's way, a friendly gesture before he disappears down the hall. Reo is left by himself in the changing rooms to process the information, tormented by a new slough of emotions that he's going to have a hard time processing by himself. 

[myrleius]

unscheduled — aizawa s.

aizawa s. x detective fem!reader│wc: 4k

synopsis: It's late. You're working. And Shota brings fast food.

cw/tags: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship, suggestive themes

The office is quiet, save for the low hum of your laptop, the occasional creak of old plumbing, and the steady scratch of your pen across paper.

The overhead lights are off, replaced by the soft glow of your desk lamp and the blue light of open tabs—city surveillance footage, license plate databases, a paused video from a bodega robbery.

You’d been reorganizing your notes for the last hour, half out of necessity, half to keep your mind from spiraling after thirty-two hours with little sleep.

You’re mid-sentence, scribbling something about time discrepancy, when you felt it. A warmth at your back, a slow exhale ghosting over your neck.

Arms eased around your waist. Familiar. Strong. And oh-so gentle.

You stiffened for a breath, instinct prickling—but then you melted.

“Detective,” Shota murmured, voice low against your ear. “A word?”

You sighed, letting your eyes flutter shut as the pen slipped from your fingers. “Mmm… you’re going to say two,” you murmured back, your lips quirking into a smile. “Probably ‘go’ and ‘home.’”

“Funny,” he said, pressing a kiss to your nape. “I was going to say ‘come’ and ‘here.’”

A quiet laugh bubbled from your throat. You slowly turned in his arms and there he was—tired eyes, dark circles, hair tied back loosely. Stupidly handsome, as always.

You leaned up to kiss him, soft and quick, before wrapping your arms around his waist. Tucking your face in his shoulder, you breathed him in. He smelled like clean soap and night air.

It had been two months since you last saw him.

Your gaze caught on a plastic bag resting on one of the tables behind him. That hadn’t been there before, and the red logo was unmistakable.

“You brought dinner?” you asked, knowing full well it’s past 2 A.M.

He shrugged, the barest of smiles tugging at his mouth. “I figured you hadn’t eaten. Or slept. Am I wrong?”

You pinched his cheek, shifting slightly to at least pretend to hide the chaos on your desk. “You haven’t either,” you muttered, gaze flicking to the shadows under his eyes.

He chuckled, then nodded toward the couch in the corner. “Come on. Before it gets cold.”

The couch creaked beneath your combined weight as the two of you settled in. Shota set the takeout bag on the coffee table, unwrapping its contents. He handed you your portion without a word.

You accepted it with a small smile, the wrinkle of wax paper loud in the quiet room. “So,” you started, peeling back the wrapper of your burger, “what’s the occasion?”

You took a bite before he could answer, humming in content. It was only then that you realized how hungry you were.

“Your cholesterol wasn’t high enough,” he replied dryly, popping a nugget into his mouth.

You laughed, stealing one for yourself. “How romantic.”

“I try.” He smirked, nudging the nugget container closer to your side.

“But seriously, didn’t you have patrol tonight?” you said around a mouthful. “And it’s a school day tomorrow too.”

“I switched shifts,” he said. “And I’m not staying long. Just for a few hours.”

Your heart warmed at that. Of course he’d trade rest for this. For you.

You ate in silence for a few minutes, but you didn’t mind. It felt nice to share a meal like this again, a sliver of normalcy in your sleepless world. You didn’t realize how much you’d miss this. How grounding it was to just be next to him.

You glanced at him.

As you chewed, a few strands of your hair slipped loose, falling over your eyes. You tried blowing them away with a breath, though unsuccessfully.

Then, without a word, Shota leaned forward. Fingers brushed your hair back behind your ear, the backs of them lingering against your cheek for a beat too long. You felt the warmth trail after them like a tide pulling back, slow and reluctant.

“What?” he said, but his mouth curved into that lazy, knowing smile.

“Nothing,” you murmured, and turned away.

Your eyes dropped to his mouth and found a smudge of ketchup near the corner, barely noticeable.

Without thinking, you reached over, wiped it away with your thumb, and licked it clean like it was second nature.

And it was. You’d done it before, countless times.

But the way he looked at you, you’d think it was the first time.

“That was kinda hot,” he murmured, voice amused but soft.

You huffed a laugh, gently nudging his shoulder. “That’s all it takes to get you going? You’re more sleep-deprived than I thought.”

His chuckle vibrated against your palm, but that look—that wasn’t him getting turned on. Not even close.

Then, without warning, he said, “I missed you.”

You paused, the words landing somewhere deep.

Shota never said things like that first. 

You usually had to tease it out of him, pull it loose behind a wall of dumb jokes and half-hearted grumbling. And even then, he’d deflect, tossing some excuse like, “The cats keep looking for you,” or “The bed’s too cold.”

Yet, here he was, handing it over without a fight.

You put your food down slowly, more carefully than needed, as if sudden movement might startle the moment away. After a pause, you wiped your fingers with a napkin and shifted closer to him.

Then, you leaned in, resting your head against his shoulder. The fabric of his shirt was warm, soft from too many washes.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you exhaled, long and quiet, letting go of something you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

“I missed you too,” you murmured, cheeks warm. “Even when you’re here right now.”

There was a brief silence. Then came the low rumble of his voice, deadpan and almost fond.

“You always get like this when I say nice things.”

But he didn’t pull away. If anything, his shoulder stayed steady beneath your cheek. He tilted his head, just enough to rest his cheek against yours. The bristle of his stubble scraped your skin, and something fluttered low in your stomach.

You snorted. “Wow. Groundbreaking observation. What’s next? ‘Water’s wet’? ‘Sky’s blue’?” 

You leaned back just enough to meet his eyes, already rolling yours. “Yes, Shota, when you’re nice, I like it. I know. Shocking.”

His lips twitched, trying to hold back a grin. “Damn. With this level of skill, I think I deserve a promotion.” 

His hand slid up your shoulder and gently pushed, guiding you back into the cushions as he shifted to hover above you. His weight didn’t press—but the suggestion of it was there.

“What’s above a detective again…?”

You burst out laughing, half at awful innuendo, half at the ridiculous way his eyebrows wiggled. “Oh my god. That was so bad.”

He didn’t budged, still caging you in, but his smirk softened. “Worked on you, though, didn’t it?”

“Barely.” You shoved at his chest—half-hearted and not really trying. His presence was solid, familiar. And oddly comforting. “And the answer is nothing, because you’d be a terrible boss.”

“Oh, really?” he murmured, dipping his headcloser. “You weren’t complaining when I bossed you around in bed last time.”

You squinted. “Perv.”

But you didn’t move. And neither did he. Until his mouth found yours.

The kiss started slow, gentle. His lips moved with unhurried certainty, like he had nowhere else to be, like this was the only thing on his list tonight. You curled your fingers into the front of his shirt, already halfway to dragging him closer when—

Your stomach let out a loud, traitorous growl. It sounded halfway between a snarl and a dying cat.

Shota froze, lips still hovering close. “... Wow.”

“Shut up,” you groaned, pressing a hand to your face. “I’m hungry, okay?”

“Clearly.”

He stayed where he was for another second, intentionally putting his weight on you just to be difficult. And your stomach made another dramatic complaint.

He chuckled, finally easing off you and helping you sit up. “Alright, alright.”

He reached for the abandoned takeout, pressing it back into your hands like it was a peace offering.

“Here,” he said. “Eat. Before you start chewing on me.”

As you both settled back into the food, the conversation drifted easily into life updates. You told him bits about the case, nothing sensitive, just the parts that frustrated you most. He listened the way he always did, never offering solutions unless you asked for them. Just letting you talk, until you didn’t need to anymore.

You rolled your eyes but took the burger anyway, biting into it with a vengeance.

Then, as if on instinct, you kicked him lightly in the shin.

He didn’t even flinch.

In return, he gave you updates from U.A.—small things, subtle milestones, the kind of stories that made you realize just how far you’d slipped from the normal rhythm of life. And how much you’d missed it.

“Oh, right,” you said as the last of the wrappers were balled up and tossed into the bin.

You crossed the room to your desk, rummaging through one of the drawers until your fingers closed around a white envelope. It was pristine, elegant, embossed with delicate swirls that shimmered faintly in the light.

“Kaede and Ren got engaged,” you said, offering the envelope as you returned to the couch.

The words came out too carefully, like you were reciting a report rather than sharing news.

Shota raised an eyebrow, fingers brushing over the embossed edge. “Really?”

“Yeah. Sent us an invite. It’s next spring,” you said, watching him too closely as he opened it. “She says she’s thinking of quitting the field too. Maybe start a consultancy firm instead.”

He nodded slowly, skimming the invitation before sliding it back into the envelope and leaving it on the coffee table.

You bit your lip. Why was this so hard? You weren’t asking for a promise. Not even a plan. Just a thought. A possibility.

But the fear was there, coiled tight in your stomach.

What if he hadn’t considered it at all? 

What if you were the only one letting your mind wander there?

You didn’t talk about these things. Not unless they were buried under sarcasm or deflection. And even then, only when you were brave enough to pretend you weren’t serious.

But tonight, with that envelope glowing white against the dark wood, and with his warmth pressed beside you after too many nights apart, the words just hung on the tip of your tongue, desperately wanting to be said.

You glanced at him sideways, heart hammering. “Does that… ever cross your mind? Stuff like that?”

He didn’t answer right away. 

But he didn’t look away either.

“Sometimes,” he said at last. “Lately, more often.”

You nodded, your fingers toying with a napkin, twisting it slowly. 

“I never used to think about it,” you said. “I was always focused on work. And I thought… what we have, it’s enough.”

And then, with a rush of panic, you waved your hands in front of him.

“And it is,” you rushed to say. “It still is. I just—”

You exhaled shakily. “I’m starting to realize how temporary everything is. How one day you’re this invincible twenty-something and the next you’re watching everyone move forward while you’re still…” 

The sentence crumbled under its own weight, the rest of the thought too vulnerable to voice.

Your gaze dropped, voice softer. “I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder if wanting more than what we already have—on what we agreed on—makes me… selfish.”

The word tasted bitter in your mouth.

You hadn’t meant to say any of it. These were just silly thoughts, the kind that came in waves after too many hours at your desk, when you passed a bridal shop and your reflection lingered in the glass, or when you found yourself staring at high chairs in restaurants, imagining a tiny hand reaching for yours.

Just stupid yearnings you tucked away before it could take root.

You shook your head, trying to laugh. “No, forget it. That was dumb,” you muttered. “I’m probably just missing you too much.”

The attempt at humor didn’t land, not even with yourself.

Shota shifted closer. His hand found yours, threading your fingers together.

“I don’t think wanting more is selfish,” he said, his voice low but certain. “And it’s not dumb.”

You stared at your hands, at the way his thumb moved in circles against your skin. “But we agreed—”

“We agreed on what made sense then,” he cut in. “That doesn’t mean we can’t want something different now.”

You fell quiet. And then, softly, almost as if he wasn’t sure you’d believe it—

“You’ve never asked for more than I could give. Not once. Even when you should have. So… be selfish. It’s okay.”

Your chest tightened. 

Of course he knew. 

Of course he’d noticed all the ways you held back. The weekends you gave up without complaint. The way you buried your feelings when his schedule didn’t align. The way you told yourself—and him—that you didn’t need anything else.

You thought you were being understanding. Strong. Low-maintenance. 

But he’d seen you. All of you.

And now, hearing it out loud, hearing him say it, had you remembering all the words you’d swallowed. But for once, they didn’t taste so bitter.

He exhaled. “I know I’m not easy. My job, the hours, the unpredictability… And yours is just as bad.” His eyes searched yours, steady and dark. “That’s why we told ourselves this was enough. Because we used to think people like us weren’t meant for that kind of thing.”

His fingers curled tighter around yours, guiding you gently into his arms. He pulled you in, tucking you beneath his chin.

“But right now,” he murmured, “it doesn’t sound so far away anymore. Doesn’t sound so foolish. Even if it’s messy. Even if we’re scared sometimes. If it’s with you… it’s something I’d want. And—”

He hesitated, the words catching in his throat.

You felt it in the way his fingers stilled, in the subtle shift of his breath. For all the steadiness in his voice earlier, this part had been harder for him to say.

Your heart softened. 

Shota never fumbled his words, not even under pressure. Apparently even he had his limits.

So you tilted your head toward him, voice no louder than the hush between heartbeats. “And?”

He looked down at you, gaze steady. Open. “And I wonder,” he said quietly, “if it’s something you’d want… with me.”

You almost laughed, but it came out as a shaky breath instead.

Not because it was funny, but because the weight you’d been carrying—years of quiet yearning, careful restraint—suddenly felt so light.

All that time spent tiptoeing, stuffing those dreams into the corners of your mind, convincing yourself not to need too much… and he’d been thinking the same things all along.

You’d both been afraid. Overthinking the same silences.

But here you were.

Asking the same question.

And finally wanting the same answer.

“Of course I do,” you whispered, words thick with emotion as you hugged him tighter. “I always have.”

Something in you finally let go.

It hadn’t broken anything. Saying it out loud hadn’t made it fragile. If anything, it had stitched the two of you closer—tightened something that had already been strong for years, but now felt even more solid. More real.

“I mean,” you added, blinking quickly to fight the sting behind your eyes, “I wouldn’t stick around for eight years with your grumpy ass if I didn’t want to.”

That earned a small huff against your temple. The tension in his shoulders eased all at once, and you felt the exact moment his smirk formed.

“Grumpy, huh?” he murmured, mock-offended.

“You scowl, like, constantly.”

“I’ve saved cities with this face.”

You pulled back, snorting. “Yeah, by making villains think you’re one of them.”

His hand dragged lazily up your arm, warm and familiar. “You’re not exactly sunshine yourself, detective. Didn’t you threaten to arrest me the first time we met?”

You scoffed, indignant. “You were covered in blood and refused to answer any questions.”

“I did answer,” he said. “I told you it was mine.”

“After fifteen minutes of silence,” you shot back. “And only when I blocked the exit.”

You could still remember that moment with startling clarity—the way his capture weapon had twitched when you stepped into his path, the way your quirk had hummed under your skin, ready to activate. A standoff between two overworked, underslept people with too much pride and no patience.

“I was trying to avoid paperwork,” he muttered, but there was no edge to it now. Only warmth and a hint of amusement.

“And I was doing my job,” you said. “Some scruffy stranger ducking out before forensics arrived? Covered in blood? Yeah, forgive me for finding that suspicious.”

A beat. 

Then you both cracked.

Soft laughter spilled out between you, warm and unguarded.

He shook his head, his eyes crinkling faintly at the corners. “We’re so stupid.”

“Mmm. Speak for yourself,” you said, smirking. “I’m delightful.”

Shota rolled his eyes, but his grin gave him away. “Sure. That’s why I keep coming back. For the delight.”

“Damn right.”

Your smirk barely had time to settle before he leaned in. His lips ghosted over yours, not kissing, just letting you feel the possibility of it. It was enough to steal the smugness right off your face.

“Oh, screw you,” you muttered, and kissed him first.

He chuckled against your mouth, the sound low and warm, vibrating between your lips as you tugged him in by the collar. It started off soft, familiar, but the way he gripped your waist told you exactly where this was headed. There was no rush, but no hesitation either.

“I love you,” he murmured in between kisses, just barely.

Your breath hitched. Fingers stilled against his shirt.

But before you could say anything back, he took advantage of the pause—your lips parted and your guard down. He kissed you deeper, rougher. Tongue sliding in, stealing the words right out of your mouth.

By the time you pulled back, flushed and breathless, his hands had already started roaming. One arm circled your waist, pulling you flush against him; the other palmed your chest through your blouse. He gave a squeeze, and you let out a startled snort, half scandalized, half amused at the sheer nerve.

“Are we really doing this on my couch?” you breathed, not quite stopping him.

He glanced around, casual. “There’s a desk right there.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you mumbled, swatting at his arm.

“What?” he said, unbothered. “You were complaining.”

“Shota—”

“So the desk thing’s a no?”

You narrowed your eyes, already fighting a grin. “I thought you already knew I like it when you take charge.”

He laughed hard, his hand sliding beneath your thighs. 

You barely had time to react before he lifted you, strong and steady, his breath brushing your cheek as he carried you the short distance across the room. Mischief burned in his eyes. You could’ve walked, but that wasn’t the point.

He set you down on your desk with a soft thud, knocking over a pen holder in the process. Neither of you cared. Not when his fingers were already working open the buttons of your blouse, slow but practiced, like he knew the exact rhythm that would drive you just a little crazy.

The fabric slid open and his mouth followed—shoulder, collarbone, a scrape of teeth that pulled a quiet sound from your throat.

You arched into him, gasping, and tugged at the hem of his shirt in return. Your hands slipped underneath, dragging your nails lightly up his back.

He shivered. And you smiled.

You loved that. How easy it was to unravel him. How willingly he let you.

You tipped forward, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “I love you too,” you whispered.

And just before things went further—before more clothes hit the floor, before the night dissolved into heat and motion—you cradled his face in your hands. 

You kissed him one more time. Gentle. Devoted. 

A seal on all the things left unspoken yet deeply and undeniably present.

Whatever the future held, you’d figure it out.

Together.

The lights were off, save for the faint glow of a desk lamp behind them—left on, probably, as an afterthought in the mess they’d made of the office.

The couch cushions shifted beneath his weight. 

Yn lay draped over him, her bare skin warm against his, cheek pressed to his chest, her breath slow. One leg curled between his. A hand rested lazily over his ribs. She was heavier now than she’d been an hour ago.

He wasn’t tired. Not yet.

His fingers moved through her hair, slow and steady. She liked that, or at least, she didn’t ask him to stop. Maybe she was asleep. Maybe not. He didn’t move to check, not wanting to disturb her. 

The silence was soft here, and they didn't get much of it.

He closed his eyes for a moment, just breathing with her. Letting the heat between them fade. Letting his body cool and settle.

She smelled like him now. Like night air and sweat and something sweet beneath it all.

He liked that more than he probably should.

They’d done this before, more than a few times. On couches, in beds, cheap hotel rooms. Hell, once on the floor of the dorms, curled up in his sleeping bag after she’d shown up past midnight with exhaustion in her voice and dirt on her boots. They were good at this—at catching up, making space, carving time out of whatever cracked hours they had left.

It always meant something.

But tonight felt different.

Not because of what they did.

Because of what they said.

His eyes opened again and he looked down at her.

Her lashes cast faint shadows across her cheekbones. Her lips were slightly parted, breath brushing warm against his chest. She looked… relaxed. Completely.

That was new.

Even asleep, yn was usually tense—wired from caffeine and adrenaline, her body half-braced for whatever new emergency might pull her from rest. But now… now, she was still. And Shota wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her this peaceful before.

His hand slipped from her hair, tracing slowly down the line of her spine. Not sexual, he’d done that plenty earlier. This was just… feeling her. Like he was mapping something fragile and didn’t want to leave a mark.

She shifted slightly, murmuring something in her sleep he couldn’t quite hear. Her face nuzzled further into his chest.

And that’s when he saw her hand again, splayed over his ribs. Unguarded and vulnerable.

He reached for it gently, cradling it on his own.

His thumb brushed over her knuckles, then down toward her ring finger.

And paused there.

Shota had never been a romantic. He wasn’t built for that kind of thing. Marriage had always sounded like too much noise, too many expectations. He didn’t think he had space for it in his life, and he didn't want to be someone else’s obligation.

He knew what it meant to be loved with conditions.

And worse, what it meant to love in spite of them.

But yn… she never asked him for more than he could give.

Never once made him choose.

And now, with her asleep on his chest, her hand in his, her ring finger bare beneath his thumb—he wondered, not for the first time, if maybe he could give her more.

Not because she asked.

Because he wanted to.

Not now. Not tomorrow. But someday.

When the world was a little quieter. When the nights weren’t quite so short.

He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to that ring finger. A soft, fleeting brush. Nothing she’d feel. But maybe something he’d remember.

She stirred faintly, but didn’t wake.

He exhaled through his nose, then tucked her hand to his chest. His other arm came around her, drawing her in closer, as if to shield her from the weight of everything outside this room.

He closed his eyes.

Sleep came easily now.

[megu-meow]

how I met your mother - Gojo Satoru

dad!Gojo x fem.reader

Summary: I recently found out that many TV series and other Manga/Anime are canon in JJK - How I Met Your Mother included - and I couldn't stop thinking about how Gojo would re-enact the thing after watching it. Moreover, all of you deserve some teeth-rotting fluff after that horrifying manga chapter. Enjoy!

"Why am I here?" Megumi asked with irritation laced through his voice as he sat down on the couch, beside the two white-haired rascals he calls his siblings.

"I'm gonna tell you guys the story of how I met your mother!" Gojo exclaims as he sits on his desk chair, in his office at Jujutsu Tech. The desk usually sits in the corner, right beside the window, but now is pushed in front of the couch, so that he can sit face to face with his children, the setup similar to the one in his recent favorite American TV show, How I Met Your Mother. The only difference is that the whole scenario is not played in his home office, but the one at his actual workplace, because you declared your home a Jujutsu-Free Zone.

"Gojo-Sensei..." Megumi sighs as he starts rubbing his forehead with annoyance "I was five when the two of you got together, I heard the story of how you two met a million times, this is not new to me." he explains as three sets of cerulean blue eyes gawk at him from all directions.

"Mama..." the two-year-old girl sitting on Megumi's left puffs with a ridiculously adorable pout on her face as soon as she hears the mention of her mother, and the five-year-old boy on the other side of the couch whiffs the air aggressively with the plush sword his father was forced to buy him on their way to the school.

"I know, Megumi, but this is a special occasion, you're gonna sit through the whole thing again so that you can experience this amazing fairytale with your beloved siblings." the tall sorcerer explains and his attention turns to his beloved daughter, Munchkin as he refers to her. The little girl slowly climbs into Megumi's lap, the boy instinctively helping her settle down as he embraces her lightly from behind, tickling her sides, and the room is filled with childish laughter. His son, or as he refers to him, Nugget, drops the toy from his tiny hands and huffs in annoyance, suddenly jealous of his sister's ability to gain the undivided attention of his favorite person, his older brother. "Now, all of you pay attention."

It was his first day at Tokyo Jujutsu High. Given his extravagant upbringing, Gojo Satoru was a self-centered douchebag with a horrible attitude. He first met Geto Suguru, the only friend he ever claimed he had, the dark-haired sorcerer with a warm smile and polite demeanor, the polar opposite of him. The two formed an unbearable duo and as soon as you walked into the classroom with the three first-year students, four months after the school year began, you knew you had to keep yourself as far away from the boys as possible. You became good friends with Shoko though, the two of you had plenty of common interests and your personalities were similar as well.

You tried avoiding Gojo at all times, you thought he was irritating based on his behavior in class and his rude comments behind your back, ones he whispered to Geto, making your dark-haired classmate laugh obnoxiously. However, Your efforts to stay as far away from him were proven to be useless when Yaga paired the two of you for a mission.

"So, why is a clan princess like you avoiding the strongest sorcerer of her time? Didn't your family tell you about the power and influence my family holds over the jujutsu society?" he asks you cockily and you chuckle dismissively at his words.

"I'm not a clan princess, Gojo! On the contrary... I come from a family of non-sorcerers and I was an outcast my whole life because I kept seeing things that others couldn't." you said as you kept hitting the curse with sharp daggers that you wielded in the air with your cursed technique "And I don't care about your power or your privilege, because I'm only here to help others." you make your point even clearer as you throw your last dagger with extra force, exorcising the curse without breaking a sweat.

"And that was the moment..." Gojo begins to explain to his overly bored children, but Megumi interrupts him.

"... when you realized you wanted to pursue the only girl that ever gave you attitude, a.k.a. Y/n. We know, it's getting boring."

"Don't roll your eyes at me, Megumi! This is an amazing story about the two people that raised you. Show some respect!" Satoru exclaims with an offended expression and Munchkin hides her face in her tiny hands, thinking that she is the one who is being scolded, trying to hide from her father's light-hearted attempt at discipline.

"Papa, can we have Splendid Sushi?" the white-haired boy asks, boredom evident from his facial expression.

"Nugget, you just ate before we came here." Satoru pouts, clearly disappointed in his kids.

"I know, I'm still hungry."

"I'm gonna wrap this story up quickly and we can go eat after." he gives in, a sad expression on his face.

After that moment you shared on your mission, Gojo changed. He was still annoying and arrogant, but he tried acting like a decent human being around you. In one instance Suguru explained that the remarks they exchanged with each other were making fun of Yaga-Sensei, not you. He felt the need to clarify that after Satoru complained to him about how much you seemed to hate his guts.

These things shed a different light on Gojo, you noticed how he was very attentive when it came to the small details you shared about yourself when the four of you first years were hanging out. He also ensured that you got home safe whenever you went out as a group and he even gave you his jacket so that you wouldn't catch a cold.

He also started complimenting you, your looks, your advancement with your technique, and he thoroughly enjoyed how you blushed every time he called you sweetheart or any other nickname he came up with on the spot. However, you were stubborn, even more challenging than some curses he fought.

"I'm gonna wife you up one day, sweet girl! Even if it's the last thing I do." he whispers into your ear as your head is resting on his shoulder while you're being driven home by an auxiliary assistant from a challenging mission. He thought you were sleeping, but you could hear his muffled words and your lips curled into a slight smile. Because Satoru was good, kind-hearted, and loving in his dorky, obnoxious way.

"Papa, where is Mama?" Munchkin asks with tears in her eyes, clearly distressed from the long period of time she had to endure without her Mama. And the only thing Satoru can do is get up from his chair, walk towards his little baby and embrace her with his strong and bulky arms, trying to comfort her, because he knows exactly how terrible it feels being away from you. He coos at her lovingly, kissing her chubby cheeks and he sits back down to continue with his story. He also puts out his hand, using blue to fetch a pink fluffy blankie he keeps in his office. Megumi rolls his eyes at this, he finds it annoying how Gojo uses his techniques so unnecessarily.

A month after Satoru's not-so-secret confession, at Nanami Kento's birthday party, it happens. Your first kiss. For the most part, the party goes terribly for both of you. He is standing in a corner, drinking seltzers orange soda furiously as he observes how a third-year is trying to hit on you with cringey pick up lines that make Gojo want to throw up. You seem uncomfortable with his advances, but Satoru doesn't intervene, because he has no right to. You two are not dating, you are just very close friends. Nothing less, certainly nothing more. However, as that idiot steps closer to you and you try to bring an end to his flirting, Satoru observes the deep discomfort in your eyes and the twirling of your hands, trying to wield some glass shards with your technique from the broken bottle spilled onto the floor. He decides to intervene, and with a single clap of his hands, he's beside you, his fingers slip into yours, stopping you from using your technique, knowing that using it without permission on school grounds could get you in trouble. The third-year leaves instantly once Gojo arrives and there you stand in front of the white-haired sorcerer with thankful eyes.

"Thank you, Satoru!" you say and from the many shots of sake cups of tea you had, you gain a newfound courage within you to get on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek. Or so you think, because in the last moment, he turns his head and your lips land on his. It's a short kiss, basically a peck, but the sobering reality of the consequences of your actions hits you like a train.

"I'm sorry, that was a mistake..." you mutter and you run out of the party, leaving him there disappointed.

After that, you don't talk to each other for two weeks. Gojo tries in the beginning, but you stop all of his attempts because you are too ashamed of your actions. After a while he becomes petty himself, claiming that it's for the better and saying the two of you wouldn't have lasted in the first place. He does it in the usual Gojo fashion, making sure that you hear every word leaving his mouth. He wants you to hurt just as much as he is, but as soon as he spots the puffy, red circles under your eyes, he regrets ever being mean towards you.

"Dada, why you make Mama cry?" the toddler in his lap looks at him curiously, her lips in a pout, clearly disappointed with her father.

"Hey! That's not true, Mama made me cry first, Munchkin."

"You never cried in your life, Gojo." Megumi intervenes and if Satoru could kill with his Six Eyes, he would annihilate the Fushiguro kid right now.

"Is the story over, Papa? You said we'd go to Splendid Sushi after." Nugget whines once again and Satoru knows he has to finish up soon, otherwise, his son is going to throw a tantrum.

Satoru rushes into the medical ward upon hearing the news. You went out on a mission alone and you were brought back by Yaga himself, on a stretcher. He doesn't know any more details than that, but he's frantic. As soon as he spots you on one of the disgustingly hard hospital beds, being treated by Shoko with blood running down your beautiful face, Satoru is standing beside you, holding your hand. You are unconscious, but it doesn't matter, his six eyes tell him that your cursed energy is stable, you have been knocked out, that's all.

"Step aside for a second, loverboy, I have to heal the cut on her arm." Shoko says with a smirk and Gojo steps away hesitantly, watching carefully as your scars slowly disappear. The healer leaves the room as soon as she finishes and Satoru is quick to return to your side, his fingers laced with yours once again.

"Gojo?"

"Am I not Satoru anymore, sweet thing?" he asks disappointedly and your mouth curls up slightly. You could have died, but he's still hung up on the way you addressed him. You look down at your hands, not able to respond. You don't quite know what you two are anymore. "I was really scared, you know? I cannot lose my favorite girl this soon, otherwise I would go insane."

"It's not a big deal, Satoru..."

"But it is...Don't you get it?! I love you." he confesses, he seems furious, but his eyes glisten with the utmost adoration "It's you, it's always been you. The one who keeps me grounded, the one that makes it worthy to be the strongest, because all this power is meant to protect you, sweetheart. So please don't ever go two weeks and four days without talking to me and for the love of god, please don't go out there on reckless missions without me because I don't want to hear about you coming back on a stretcher ever again." he brings your hands up to his lips, kissing them gently and you swear you can see tears swelling in his precious eyes.

"I love you too, Satoru." you reply, your voice barely a whisper. He's shocked, for a second, the next he's leaning closer asking for permission to kiss you properly. You grant it to him and he unites your lips in a long-awaited kiss, one that seals the fate of the rest of your lives, without even knowing it.

"That day, in the hospital ward of Jujutsu Tech, I promised my classmate, the girl I fell deeply in love with, that I would protect her no matter what. That I would love and cherish her with all of my might till the end of my life. I promised her that one day I would marry her, when I went back home with you, Megumi, and told her I was planning on raising you at eighteen, while she simply agreed to help me all the way, no questions asked. Three years later I vowed to her that I would be beside her in sickness and in health. When you rascals were born, I promised I would take care of her and you guys with all the energy I have. Deep down I knew from the moment she stepped into that classroom when I was fifteen that she would be the one for me. And that kids, is how I met your mother." he finishes with a fond smile on his face, but it quickly falters as he notices that Nugget is once again preoccupied with whacking the air with the toy from earlier, Megumi is on his phone and Munchkin is sleeping soundly in his embrace.

Suddenly, he hears your footsteps from down the hall and your sing-song voice coming through the door.

"Where's my beloved family at?" you ask playfully, opening the door to his office, and peeking in. Upon spotting the sleeping toddler in his arms you keep quiet, approaching the two of them and you take your daughter into your embrace. You look around the room, observing the changes, the very bored teenager and your rascal of a son sitting on the couch and you quickly connect the pieces of the puzzle.

"You did it, didn’t you, Satoru?"

"What, sweetheart?" he asks faking innocence.

"The How I Met Your Mother Thing? The idea you were talking to me about the other night."

"Maybe."

"Oh, my poor babies, you had to sit through that cliche story. How long did your dad keep you bored, Megumi?" you ask, your tone teasing.

"Actually it wasn't that long after Nugget started whining." the raven-haired boy explained, looking fondly at his only mother figure.

"I'm so sorry, guys, let's go to Splendid Suchi, okay? That would make you all feel better." you add, leaving a loving kiss on all the kids' heads. Your son lifts his head with incredible speed upon hearing you mention his favourite restaurant, up until now he didn't even notice your presence, too preoccupied with his new toy. Suddenly everyone is up on their feet, ready to have a scrumptious meal.

You and Satoru stay behind a bit as the two boys run out of the school and Megumi summons his demon dogs so that the two of them can play with the fluffy shikigami.

"When are you gonna tell ME that fairytale of yours, angel boy? I'm really curious how you scored a clan princess like me." you ask your husband jokingly and he chuckles, raising his sunglasses up his nose. His hands quickly snake around your waist, pulling you into a loving kiss. Your daughter finally awakens lifting her head from your shoulder, interrupting the beautiful moment between the two of you.

"Mama!" she exclaims, embracing you tightly, her tired eyes fluttering as you bring her closer to your chest.

"Not only did you steal your Mama from me you get her titties as well?! This world is truly cruel."

[eriace]

chicken nuggets ; takami keigo

oneshot & fluff ↪ in which, amidst brutal HPSC training and suffocating expectations, keigo finds one bright, persistent person who sees the boy behind the wings—and never stops choosing him. ↷ takami keigo ; my hero academia

↳ an order of caramel macchiato from @sailorstar9 in the comeback cafe event !

(author's note: you are lowkey ordering here daily like it's an irl cafe then you're on your way to work lmaoo.)

THE HPSC FACILITY was white, sterile, and soul-sucking.

Keigo’s wings were aching again. The muscles between his shoulders felt like rubber bands stretched too tight. Another ten-hour training day. Another round of drills. Another scolding for “smiling too much.”

Apparently, heroes weren’t supposed to look like they enjoyed things.

He dropped onto the pavement outside the back gate and sighed so hard it practically knocked dust off his feathers.

And then—

“KEIGOOOO!”

Her voice.

His favorite sound in the world.

He looked up just in time to see her barreling toward him, arms wide and stupidly excited like she hadn’t just seen him yesterday.

Before he could blink, she crashed into him with a hug so strong it made his wings twitch.

“You're late,” she scolded, but she was already ruffling his hair affectionately. “I was about to storm the HPSC and demand your release.”

“They’d just upgrade security.”

“I’m scrappy.”

He laughed—a real laugh, the kind that only ever came when she was around.

They’d met years ago.

Keigo was ten, half-starved and terrified, with too-big wings and a quirk that scared people. She was the girl who caught him trying to shoplift chicken nuggets from a Family Mart and offered him hers instead.

“If you’re gonna steal,” she said with an eyebrow raised, “at least do it with sauce.”

He had fallen in love instantly.

Not the romantic kind. Not then. Just the kind that happens when your world is dark and someone shows up with light — and doesn’t run when you get too close.

She became his escape.

While the Commission trained him like a tool, she treated him like a kid. A person. Someone allowed to laugh too loud and eat slushies and sleep in late on Saturdays.

When he got bruised, she brought bandaids with little stars on them.

When he got tired, she let him nap on her couch—wings and all—with a blanket that smelled like her shampoo.

When he got scared, she stayed.

Always.

NOWS, YEARS LATER, she was still here—older, taller, and still just as warm.

Keigo leaned against the gate and groaned dramatically.

“They had me flying laps for three hours.”

“Were you late again?”

“Ten seconds.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“I’m adorable.”

She snorted and offered him a half-melted popsicle.

He took it without hesitation.

“You’re the only good part of my day,” he muttered quietly, staring at the sidewalk.

She blinked. “What?”

“Nothing.”

That night, after a long shower and a quiet dinner, they sat on the floor of her room—Keigo in his usual spot, wings splayed, her hoodie half-swallowed by his frame.

She painted his nails. Bright red.

“You’re not putting glitter on them.”

“You’re Hawks. You can handle glitter.”

He made a face but didn’t stop her.

The lamp glowed soft and yellow. Her fingers were gentle, steady.

And then she asked, softly, “Do they ever let you just... be a person?”

He didn’t answer right away.

Just stared at the ceiling and said, “Only when I’m here.”

Her heart cracked a little.

So she set the polish down and took his hand in both of hers.

“You know I liked you before the wings, right?”

His eyes flicked toward her. He smiled, tired and crooked.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. But now I get wings and a best friend who lets me steal the last dumpling.”

“That was a test and you failed.”

“Please, you smiled when I did it.”

He leaned back on his hands and looked at her—really looked at her—and for a moment, the world stopped spinning so fast.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Thanks for seeing me. Not just the hero stuff. Me.”

She smiled and leaned her shoulder against his.

“I’ll always see you, Keigo.”

And he believed her.

© eriace ;; don’t repost my works.

[danikamariewrites]

One Hotel Room…Really?

Hunt x reader x Baxian

Note: Happy Day 3! I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Baxian fic and I needed to change that immediately. When I was reading House of Sky and Breath these two kinda gave me reluctant besties/lovers and needed to see them together. @polysjmweek

Day 3 is Will There Be Enough Room? You’ve had dreams where you’re squished between two hunky angels. Not when you’re pissed off at said hunky angels though. After being annoyed with Hunt and Baxian all day the last thing you want to do is share a bed with them.

Warnings: one bed trope, fluff

I was truly and utterly exhausted. Making sure Hunt and Baxian keep their cool and juggling diplomacy was no easy feat.

When Isaiah said he’d set us up in a 5-star hotel for this trip I had been so excited. I was so ready to be alone with a glass of wine and a hot bath.

As Hunt checked us in, my heart sank when they only handed over one room key.

One. Key.

Nooo, I mentally groan. I just want to be alone. And being shoved in a room with two very attractive angels I’ve had crushes on doesn’t help. Especially when they’ve been pissing me off all day.

My head whips toward Baxian as I catch him giving me a pitiful look from my peripheral. I narrow my eyes at him and follow Hunt to the elevator.

The ride up to the room was silent. Hunt held the door open for us after swiping the key. Ditching my bag by the door I stroll over to the floor to ceiling window, watching the foreign city glitter below.

Hunt silently sidles up beside me, tapping my shoulder. “Baxian and I are gonna go get dinner. We’ll be back in an hour or so.” I nod and wait until they’re gone to move. At least I can soak for a little bit.

Thirty minutes pass like a lifetime as I try to get comfortable. The water is too hot, no bubbles, and the towel I rolled into a pillow won’t stay in the right spot on my neck. Letting out a sigh I step out of the tub. Pulling the plug I watch the water drain along with my hopes of relaxation.

I claim the middle of the bed and turn on the TV. Another hour and a half passes by the time I hear the beep of the automatic lock. At this point I don’t care if they brought me anything back. I’ll just raid the overpriced snacks that will get charged to Issah’s card.

Hunt and Baxian seem to be in much better moods. They joke with each other while getting the take out containers. Acting like they’ve been best friends for centuries and not like they were about to stab each other a few hours ago.

“Hey,” Baxian greets cheerfully, finally acknowledging my presence. “We got you your favorite.” He shakes the container and the smell of chicken nuggets and fries wafts toward me. My stomach growls as I reluctantly hold my hand out.

The pair plop down on either side of me, making me bounce as their massive muscles squish me. I nudge them in the ribs to make room for my elbows. “I’m in the middle seat, I get both armrests.”

Hunt puts up his hands in surrender. “All you baby.” My cheeks heat at the nickname. I look down at my food to avoid his dark eyes from seeing. Hunt’s stare lingers for a while until he faces the TV again.

The later it gets the more I start to panic. Hunt and Baxian each have a leg dangling off the bed. How are we going to sleep with just one bed? If I sleep on my side in the middle we should be fine. I can make myself small.

Baxian gently nudges my shoulder. I jump a little and look up to find a concerned frown pulling at his full lips. “What’s on your mind?” He whispers so Hunt won’t hear. I swallow as my eyes dart around to avoid looking at him. “Just…how are we going to sleep? I can take the couch, or the floor is fine-”

“Y/n,” Hunt cuts me off. I didn’t realize I was talking at a normal volume now. Baxian grabs my chin, pulling my face inches from his. “First of all, you are not sleeping on the floor. Second of all, we can all fit in the bed.”

“Are you sure? I’m just worried about your wings,” Hunt cuts off my rambling again. His hand replaces Baxian, pulling my face in his direction.

“Hush, baby.” I can’t hide my pink cheeks this time. Hunt smirks as he notices my eyes widening too. “We’ll fit. Now stop worrying and eat please.”

Watching Hunt and Baxian get ready for bed has my head spinning. My heart races, pounding against my ribs thanks to my nerves. As the two angels slip into bed on either side of me I turn on my side.

Making myself as small as possible I force my eyes shut. There’s shuffling against the covers and I feel Hunt’s strong arms wrap around me, pulling me closer to his body. I freeze up as he moves me. “Relax,” he whispers.

I do as he says until I feel Baxian’s arm snake around my hip. Hunt's hand finds its way to the nape of my neck. Massaging at the knot that’s been forming since this afternoon.

“Goodnight love,” Baxian murmurs. My heart can’t help but race again. Hearing the term of endearment from Baxian confirms the suspicions that have been hiding in the back of my mind. My body relaxes for the first time all day.

My eyelids grow heavy fast. I let them close, no longer fighting sleep as exhaustion sets in. “Night Bax.” I murmur back.

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

Hoping that this isn't weird but IMAGINE Vox having everything, fame, money, power, but he loses the one thing he treasures the most on extermination day– his family. Like imagine if Vox and his pregnant wife had this hugee argument before extermination day causing her to storm out of the tower, but he didn't chase her cause it was just probably the hormones and she'd come back. But she didn't manage to come back in time. So Vox had to wait in the tower cause he couldn't go out and pray that she was okay. After the extermination, he of course went ballistic trying to find her, jumping from camera to camera until he found her corpse in some random dark alley. What would be the aftermath? I HOPE THIS ISNT WEIRD I JUST CRAVEE ANGST ‼️‼️😭

A/N — I rewrote this a total of four times 😭 I hope this satisfies your need for angst, my lovely anon. This is the one my sister finally approved for everyone to see. Poor kid hates reading my fanfic and she's been subjected to being my conscience while I wrote this. I had to bribe her with coffee and a 20 piece nugget from McDonald's to get her to read more than a paragraph 😭

Fade To Black

Warnings: ANGST, pregnancy, Fem!Reader, loss of wife + child, Vox in denial, got kinda dark with the implications at the end(?), Alastor is mentioned a few times. Guys, I'm literally so sorry

Word Count: 1.2K

“You're not listening to me!” You reiterated for what felt like the billionth time, your gaze momentarily darting to the small curve of your stomach where one of your hands rested securely, the other on your hip.

Vox sighed, exasperated. “Listen, Doll, I'm hearing what you're saying and—”

“—That's exactly the problem! You're hearing what I'm saying but you're not actually listening to me, Vox! For Hell's sake, step away from your work and weird obsession with the Radio Demon for two seconds and focus on what's important!” 

The words felt like knives as you spoke them, each one spearing the air of the penthouse. The room fell silent. The other vees were no stranger to the arguments that broke out, hell, they were a part of most of them. . . But not this one. . . Vox stiffened and squared his shoulders. 

“My work is important. My work is what allows us to live the afterlife we do.” He said, his tone firm, almost condescending. 

“And what about your obsession, huh? Watching the rinky-dink hotel cameras in your office after hours for a glimpse of that antlered little freak who doesn't give a shit about you — when you should be home, here, with me?” 

You waited for an answer, yet Vox only stared at you. It was painfully clear that he didn't know what to say. “Lucifer's tits — fuck you!” You hissed, throwing your hands up in the air, showing just how done you were with all of this.

The next moment, you were turning on your heel and storming out of the room. 

Vox only scoffed and dropped onto the couch, watching as you walked away. Hormones. He thought to himself. It had to be.

He'd never seen you so worked up about his late nights at the office. Never seen you so angry when referencing Alastor, who had once been a good friend and mentor to you. 

Hormones. It was the only logical explanation, right?

He let you go, knowing you needed your space. . . Knowing you'd come home once you cleared your head and had just enough patience to once again approach the topic with a semi-level head, likely once the extermination was over.

You knew the moment you cleared the doors of the tower that you had likely overreacted. The hot, dry air of Hell against your skin seemed to bring the realization to the forefront of your mind. 

Yet it was pride and stubbornness that kept you from turning back to the tower, rather storming through the desolate back alleyways, a metaphorical thundercloud looming over your head.

Vox hadn't followed you, and you weren't about to give him the satisfaction of going back. You loved him, and you knew he loved you too — as shocking as it was that the two of you found genuine love in Hell.

As much as you loved him, he infuriated you, even more so now that you were carrying his child. . . 

The carnage of Extermination Day met your ears and your steps faltered, drawing you to a stop as your instincts then screamed at you to go home. To go where it was safe. 

Safe. 

Safe at Vox's side. At home. . .

How could you have forgotten what day it was? The anger. It had to have been the reason for your lapse in memory. . . So you began heading back towards the tower. 

Pride and stubbornness be damned.

Sticking to the shadows, you ventured forward towards the net of safety that you so desperately needed.

So close, yet so far.

Too far. 

It'd been too long. 

You'd been gone too long. 

The moment Extermination Day had been declared finished, Vox was out looking for you. Every camera on every street he could possibly reach. 

Every sinner he found dead and dying in the streets, he hoped he wouldn't see your face. Your beautiful face. . . The thought alone made something twist in his gut like a double edged blade — fear, he recognized. 

Pure unbridled fear. 

Fear of losing you. Fear of losing the two most important beings in his entire afterlife. 

He searched for what seemed like forever, until he caught a glimpse of you in an alleyway, almost entirely hidden from view. He easily recognized your clothes you had been wearing that day and your hair — oh, how he loved that hair. 

Relief flooded him as he rushed towards you, though it disappeared, his heart plummeting as he dropped to his knees.

“Hey, Doll, wake up. . . It's okay, it's over.” He said, his voice shaky as his hands came up to either side of your face. 

“You did good. . . You played dead so you could survive. They're gone now — you can open your eyes, Doll. . . Please open your eyes. . .” He begged softly, his touch and voice becoming more frantic.

“No, no, no, open your eyes for me, okay? I know you're mad at me, Doll, I'm sorry. . . I'm so sorry. . . Wake up. . . Wake up. . . Wake up. . .” He pulled your body closer to his, clutching you close. One hand held the back of your head to his chest, the other trailed down to your stomach. 

Too many emotions clawed at him as he begged you to wake up, to give up the charade. . . He made promises to make it up to you. He'd spend more time at home with you. He'd give up on his obsession with Alastor. He'd do it. He would do it for you. . . 

But it was too late. . . The blood that soaked your clothes and his was a chilling reminder. . . The all powerful TV Demon choked out a sob as your skin turned cold beneath his hands. 

His world stopped spinning, the axis snapping and floating off into the abyss as he held you close. . . He wasn't used to feeling your skin cold. He was used to the warmth, the life, the light that came from you. 

He couldn't feel you. 

And it killed him. 

He couldn't breathe. His chest ached. Nothing in all of Hell mattered more than you. More than the child that had been created out of love and the use of a loophole within Hell's complex laws of nature. 

And now it had been ripped away from him. He hated himself. He was angry. 

It felt as if the light and warmth had been sucked out of his universe, leaving nothing but cold darkness that seeped into his very soul, gnawing at him, tearing him apart from the inside out. 

He could hardly remember his afterlife before you. Now, facing a reality where he'd have to live in an afterlife without you. . . It consumed him in all the wrong ways. . . 

He wanted you back. 

He needed you back. 

Yet the darkness that gnawed and clawed at his entire being, the absence of you — your light that was supposed to guide him through this perpetual landscape of flame and rot for all eternity. . . The shadows remained like a constant reminder, a plague of its own, slowly eating away at him at every opportunity. 

Without your light, he was nothing. 

Without your laugh, he was nothing. 

Without your attitude, he was nothing. 

Without your warmth, he was nothing.

Nothing more than a shell of the overlord he used to be. . . And when the shadows clawed at his mind like a beast seeking a debt to be paid, he let them win. 

He let it all fade to black. 

[lottiesboy]

big sis callie sadecki headcanons…

inspired by @butchreg … i love my big sis :(( im gonna do some moodboards the adult yjs tomorrow tho :} stay tuned this might flop idc

callie is the best sister you could ever ask for. even though she’s a moody teen, she would never even think about putting that out on you.

she’ll give you rides to and from school, and she would give someone a piece of their mind if they ever messed with you.

doing faces masks and skincare routines while having sleepovers in her room :3 she lets you watch whatever you want on her laptop, and she’ll sleep with the beside lamp on if you’re scared of the dark.

she scolds you sometimes, but only because she loves you. you fall asleep with your thumb in your mouth on the couch one night after watching a movie and she shakes you awake.

“take your thumb out of your mouth, it’s yucky, remember?” then she gets up to grab your paci and eventually carries you over her shoulder to bed.

speaking of beds, you obviously sleep in your own bed, right? yes, but, you always come to callie’s room when you can’t sleep or had a nightmare. she’s a night owl so she’s always up.

she doesn’t know how to react when you have fussy little fit/tantrum. she’ll let you get all your anger and frustration out before asking if you want a big big big hug. then, she lets you nap in her bed.

letting you listen to her favorite music with her. she lets you use her headphones and puts her lana del rey playlist on shuffle for you.

when you’re smaller, she’ll help you with basic things like, dipping your chicken nuggets in the sauce, or putting the toothpaste on your toothbrush.

she’ll read to you while you lay your head on her shoulder and cuddle your stuffie. and she’ll never get annoyed when you interrupt her to point out the silly talking cow.

when you find out callie got suspended, you wondered why, but she thought it would be best to not tell little you.

you come in her room to see her smoking out the window. “sissy?”

“hey! what’s up, you?” she puts out her blunt, hiding it back under her makeup box. “you got in trouble at school?”

“yeah, but i’ll tell you about it later. but now, we can hang out lots more, kay?”

[darknight3904]

A preview to part two of the Gojo x Zenin!reader I wrote.

Warnings: None

September 2016 (Gojo: 26 You:25)

"Shut up Megumi!"

Tsumiki's room door slamming is loud enough to rattle the entire house.

"Not again..." Gojo groans from his spot on the couch.

Today was his first day off in months, he wished you were here and snuggled into the couch with him but instead, you were off on some mission with Nanami and that kid he was training, Ino was it?

Gojo wished you were here so you could deal with whatever the Fushiguro siblings were fighting about now. You had always been better at diffusing the situation that he was. After all, he'd often end up instigating more problems since Megumi was so funny-looking when he got mad.

"What's going on now?" Gojo asked the dark-haired boy

"Nothing. I just told her that her hair was weird looking today. Where is-"

"She's out on a mission with Nanamin. I'll be handing dinner tonight so go start your homework and apologize. " Gojo said

"You sure you can handle that without burning the place down?" Megumi asked

"Of course I can! I'm the strongest sorcerer alive...I can handle a little dinner."

"Goodnight, Zenin-san!" Ino called out the window as the car drove away

He really was a lovely boy, strong too. Nanami had trained him well. The walk up the sidewalk to your shared home with Gojo and the kids was your last sliver of peace though as you could already hear yelling.

What horrors awaited you on the other side of this door?

"Megumi, would it kill you to help out?"

"Yeah probably. That pot is gonna overflow."

Your feet quickly carry you to the kitchen where Satoru is standing amongst...well you're not really sure what he's trying to cook.

"What's going on?" You ask

"You're home!" Gojo called excitedly, "How's Nanamin?"

"He's great. What's all this?" You ask gesturing to a pan that's been burned so bad its normally white bottom is black with charred food.

"He's trying to make dinner. He's been trying for almost two hours." Megumi says

"Satoru you're 26, can't you cook anything?" You ask as you pull your hair up, ready to take the spoon away from him

"I can cook. " He defends

"Frozen chicken nuggets don't count." You laugh

"Hey!"

Gojo watches as you toss what he was working on, to be frank, he's not sure what he was trying to make at this point. It had started as pork katsu and then evolved into a disaster.

"What's wrong now?" You ask as you rummage through the fridge.

"I wanted to have a nice meal ready for when we got back from your mission. Like you do for me." Gojo says

You can hear the pout in your boyfriend's words.

"It's alright, Satoru. It's the thought that counts." You assure him

"Next time you go away, I'm going to make the best dinner ever." He declares, resting his chin on your shoulder as you fill a pot up with water.

"Well, Nanami and I have orders for Friday...so I'd get learning, Satoru." You smile.

"Perfect. Friday night, my dinner will be even better than yours. I'm going to go pick out a recipe on my laptop." He declares marching off to who knows where.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course, Megumi." You say, the boy rarely asked questions, so you were always excited to answer them when he did.

"Can you get someone else to cover your mission on Friday? I think if you leave him alone with the kitchen again he might blow us all up."

The rest of this is out now. Check it out here

My Masterlist

[feroshgirlsims]

Chapter 9.5 - 50 Shades of Enchantment

ALICE

Alice wasn’t expecting an article about a charity ball to be that interesting. When she was younger, her dad used to drag her to a bunch of them when he needed to look like a “family man” on the campaign trail. They were ‌so boring she spent most of her time figuring out how to avoid security cameras and pick the locks on tiny windows so she could smoke a joint without getting caught.

But apparently, the 1895 Laurel Library Fundraiser was an exception.

“Okay, lay it on me one more time,” Alice demands after shoving their empty takeout containers aside. She ate her burger, Vlad’s chicken nuggets, and part of his salad. It was a shame she didn’t order fries because she still felt peckish. But she was already making him re-read the article, insisting on more snacks felt like too much. 

Vlad settles back on the couch, stretching his long legs out. “‘Miss Mudget, soon-to-be Pollock, known for her analytical mind, was wild-eyed as she began her rant. Numerous guests, including this erstwhile reporter, can attest that she was glowing with indignation. Quite literally.’”

The article describes Esther Mudget storming into the ballroom with a bloody knife and a manifesto. There’s a photo of her—yes, glowing—with a series of bright sparks cascading behind her. Alice assumes someone doctored the image. In her Framing the Shot class, her professor talked a lot about camera tricks in the Victorian Era. Apparently, the supernatural was such a trend that selling fake pictures of something creepy was big business. 

“‘The Order of Enchantment strays too far in pursuit of power,’ Miss Mudget says. ‘The magic we have been given is sacred, but my fellow members would warp it, align themselves with dark dealings.’” Vlad looks up from the paper. “And then Esther accuses several members by name before her fiance comes to drag her off-stage. The next day, she shows up to compete in a previously scheduled baking contest and disappears.”

“But not before everyone called her crazy,” Alice grumbles. It’s her least favorite part. “Oh, and her fiance confirmed it and made some speech about the dangers of taxing a woman’s brain, and everyone fucking applauded.”

“He was clearly deluded,” Vlad frowns. “I would love it if you showed up at a public event, waved a weapon at me, and shouted incoherently about being in charge.”

Alice tries to hold in her laugh, but it comes out as a snort. “I’m pretty sure Esther was going to stab him.”

“Even better.”

“Oh, you would let me stab you?” she teases, climbing onto his lap.

“Without hesitation.” It’s an utterly batshit answer, but Vlad doesn’t even acknowledge that fact. Instead, he taps her nose. “Would you like to watch Tea & Treachery fan videos and cuddle?”

Weirdly, she does.

PREV | NEXT

(Part 6 of 8)

New to the story and want to catch up quickly? Click here.

[midgardian-witch]

Hello it is Moshi (distinctively different from Mushi, whom I don't know). Could I request reader having a low mood day and coming home to Basil's apartment after classes to find him setting up something to cheer them up. Like ADHD, random pizzas, a crazy movie no ones ever heard of and a tshirt thats his but he sharpied "best girlfriend ever" or something. Just random, cheesy ways to pick reader up.

Mushi, I mean Moshi! @ominoose, my darling cottagecore gremlin 🩵

I had this in my ask box for ages but I can't focus on writing a full fic so I hope this will still bring you joy:

You had the worst day of your life at work/school/uni and all you want is to have a quick bite to eat and sleep for an eternity.

Everything is too loud, too bright, too much.

All you want is peace, quiet and darkness.

So when you open the door to your shared flat with Basil to a flood of sound, lights and smells you die a little inside.

When you see what your boyfriend is up to you could cry from joy.

A huge banner hangs across the room spelling 'best girlfriend appreciation day'.

There are a bunch of pizzas, mozzarella sticks, chicken nuggets and all your favorite fast foods draped across the coffee table.

There is a plastic award with a fake golden plaque on it. The words 'best girlfriend' and your name make your lips twitch into a goofy smile.

Basil doesn't even notice you at first until he turns around and freezes at your sight.

He returns your goofy grin and immediately jumps up to pull you into a hug. Basil is all smiles and energy like a golden retriever puppy eager to greet its owner.

"Hey baby!" kiss "I missed you so much!" kiss "I got us food and rented a few movies because you said today would be exhausting and I wanted you to just sit down and relax and maybe cuddle because fuck I missed you." kiss

Your bad mood is immediately lifted by his absolute joy at your presence.

Basil pulls you to the couch and shows you the movies he rented for the two of you (you get stuck deciding between watching Velocipastor and Cocaine Bear).

You end up cuddling into the late night hours watching weird (and often hilariously bad) horror movies and munching on fast food.

[lolitakirstein]

Hey Neighbor

(Previous Chapter)

a/n this one if young megumi heavy sorry

Part 3

Fun for Megumi turned out to be more exhausting than you imagined. The afternoon was spent mostly outdoors. Hide and seek, tossing a Frisbee, and even walking down to the small lake at the end of your street to feed the ducks. Now, sitting under the tree, the sun descending Megumi seems to be slowly losing his energy. Much to your delight. You didn’t know how 2 parents were able to keep up with a child, much less how a single father like Toji could. Which made you curious…where is his mother? Is she still involved? Are she and Toji still together? You don’t remember any mention of another woman either from him, Megumi, or even when your grandmother mentioned him. It was always just Toji and Megumi. As much as you wanted to ask, you knew it wasn’t your business. You don’t really know them. But it didn’t keep you from wondering.

Now, Megs sat up next to you, lazily swishing a cat toy back and forth while Mewsy chased it, your arms casually cradling him against your side.

'`Is your grandmother not coming back?” he softly says. You’re shocked by the question. You didn’t even know he was aware of her not being there.

“No,” you choke out. “No she’s…not coming back.” you didn’t know how to answer it. How do you talk to a child about death…a child that isn’t even your own? It wasn’t your place, so you kept it as ambiguous as possible.

“Oh,” he says, almost sad. “I liked her. She made good food.”

You stroke his dark hair, smiling. “Yes, she did. You know she might have left some recipes behind. I could try to make whatever you liked?”

��Chocolate cake!” he quickly answers.

“I’m sure i can find that for you,” you laugh.

“She let me help her make it one day when I was hiding at her house while dad was gone. She let me lick the spoon but promised not to tell him,” he whispers.

Hiding? Was he serious?

“What do you mean hiding? And where had your dad gone?” you ask, casually.

“His work. He took me over to Miss. Ruth's house and told her I needed to hide out there and not to leave the house til he got back.”

You can't remember ever hearing your grandmother mention Megumi staying at her house. “Who were you hiding from?” He shrugs, “Bad guy. That’s what daddy says.”

You stay silent. Is this factual? Or just the wild imagination of a kid? How could you even approach Toji about it–about something that isn’t even your business. But bad guys? And what did your grandmother think about this?

“I’m hungry can we make dino nuggies,” megumi stands up, shaking you from your thoughts.

You both walk back into the house, using the key Toji provided to unlock the front door. The house is simple, clean, almost like no one lived there, except for the various toys scattered in the living room and a few dishes in the sink.

Once the food is cooked you both sit on the living room floor, the tv showing cartoons, a pile of crispy chicken nuggets on a plate between the two of you. You hated to admit how fun this was. You never thought of yourself as a motherly person, but you were easily becoming attached to Megumi.

Your phone pings with an incoming text

Toji: Has he driven you crazy yet?

You smile before replying

You: Plz, he’s an absolute angel.

Toji: Lol, only bc he’s got a crush.

You blush, unsure how to respond.

Toji: I’ll be home in about an hour.

After finishing dinner and sneaking Megs a cookie from the cabinet, the two of you curl up on the couch underneath a blanket. A movie plays on the tv but his eyes are slowly closing as he curls up against your side. It's a comforting weight, his little body, you can’t help but feel your heart warm, your eyes also struggling to stay open…

You feel a warm hand on your shoulder, gently nudging you.

“Hey I’m home,” a soft voice says.

You finally register where you are, shooting your eyes open. Toji is leaning over the couch, hand still resting on your shoulder and Megumi is not next to you.

“Shit! Where’s—” you start to panic. “Relax, I already took him to his room, I’m sorry I'm so late..I got…busy,” he says hesitantly.

“God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you apologize, earning a laugh from Toji

“I told you, he’s not an angel. He will tire you out.”

“No, he was great. We had a lot of fun.” You wanted to ask about what Megumi had mentioned earlier–the hiding, the bad guy, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. Not right now anyway.

“I appreciate it,” he says. “Here.” He holds out a thick stack of twenties, a currency strap around it reading 300 dollars.

“Toji! No! This is entirely too much I really didn’t mind.” you say, shocked. Not even daring to touch that much money.

“I insist.” He waves it in front of you.

“No I refuse,” You stand up, heading to the door to put on your shoes. You knew babysitting could come with good cash but never THAT much and just for an afternoon, you’d feel too guilty taking that much from him. You attempt to change the subject. “Uhm he ate dinner and fell asleep not long after you texted. I didn’t let him nap or anything…”

You look up and see toji staring at you with a slightly annoyed expression for not accepting the money. “Uhm, I guess i’ll go–”

“Wait,” toji grasps your upper arm before you can open the door. His big strong hand sends heat down your spine. “Go tell him bye, before you leave.”

“Huh?” you ask confused.

“Go tell him that you are leaving and you'll see him later,” he says, softly. Almost pleading.

“Of course I’ll see him again. Let him sleep.”

“No,” toji shakes his head, his grasp still firm on your arm. “If he wakes up and sees you're suddenly gone and didn’t tell him bye he will freak out…just—please.”

Your heart breaks at the thought of Megumi being upset. In his room, you sit on the bed, his small body curled beneath the covers. You lean over and whisper, “Hey little man, I’m going home.”

He shifts under the covers, a small whine, “no stay.”

“I gotta go feed Mewsy,” you say. “She gets really grumpy if she’s not fed.”

Megumi sits up, rubbing the sleep out of his eye before embracing you. You hug him back, now hating that you did indeed have to go. You look at toji, leaning against the doorframe, a soft smile on his lip “I’ll see you later ok?”

He releases you and shakes his head before lying back down. Once you tuck him in, you pass by toji’s looming body by the doorway and walk to the front door. You pause not wanting to leave without asking your questions. Turning back around, Toji is standing behind you. How did you not hear him approaching? You jump back, a little startled at his silent approach.

“I–I should go,” you stammer but don’t move towards the door. Toji removes the stack of money from his pocket and reaches it forward, sliding it into your jacket pocket.

He’s so close you can smell his manly scent, arousal creeping into your veins.

“Thank you.” he whispers.

Before you can do something stupid, you whirl to the door and throw it open. Rushing down the steps without saying goodbye.

[tessandjoel]

hi. good afternoon. the beginning of the tess joel single parent fic but it’s actually just ooc kid ellie & her mom tess right now :)

Wednesday, Ellie sits in the gymnasium, building a tower with the boy she’s next to all year, unable to read the clock as Tess speeds during rush hour, two hours late after a meeting prolonged itself into her lap, having to answer questions from her colleagues that could have been solved in an email. Over and over, she’s explained that everything should be wrapped up by 4:00, that she has a daughter who’s more important than any of them ever could be, and that the bulge in her heart aches when she’s late to pick up her darling girl, time apart that shouldn’t be. There’s a reminder on her door– no work past 3:30, call back at a later time, that gets ignored until she puts her foot down, leaving early to pick up her baby girl.

It’s like clockwork, Ellie lines up exactly at 3:58 when the first bell rings, walking towards the end of the line as she giggles amongst the five-year-olds, pigtails that mommy did sitting perfectly against her sparkly backpack; something Tess thought was out of Ellie's league but the joy that was sprayed across her lips in the store made it worth it. She’s put at the end as all her friends get on their designated buses, but Tess can’t carry the burden of leaving her five-year-old alone, even if her parents deemed it safe because the house she grew up in was only something you’d see in the movies, a mansion; two unhappy companions stuck in a marriage that was only bearable when alcohol was involved and their daughter, an only child that shouldn’t exist, thrown to the curb when she was eighteen, knocked up by the time she was twenty three.

She doesn’t resent her daughter the way her parents despised her.

I love my daughter, she tells her therapist that every week, an hour on the couch every Tuesday, trying to wash away all the sins abided in her soul, repenting to remove her parents’ blood from her body.

I couldn’t live without Ellie. Not very much makes sense to her anymore, but Ellie… oh, Ellie, the light in the darkness, the thing that saved Tess Servopoulos. She wakes every morning for the girl, most of the time she’s already at the helm of her bed, stuffed animal tugged against her chest as she gives a toothy grin, waving, running into the sheets before Tess can properly propel her eyes at the figure, hearing the squeal to know it’s her, and not someone that’s tripped her state of the art security system.

Wednesday, Tess is late, again.

Her high heels are strapped tightly as she opens the gymnasium door, exhausted from work while the noise immediately causes her headache to swell, click-clanking towards the table, Tess drags out a smile, not seeing Ellie immediately. She’s small, a little underweight for her age, but still perfect.

“Hi.” Tess feels out of place, always does in situations like this where she has to be a mother and can’t just pretend that Ellie is her sister; too young to be a parent, not paranoid, just… out of place, floating at sea, unable to get back to safety. “I’m here to pick up my daughter?” It’s not the same woman who was there the day before when Tess didn’t make it out of the office until 5:30, making it up to Ellie with chicken nuggets on the ride home. (She would have been happy with nothing, but she even got a cool toy in her kid's meal, so the entire day was golden.)

The teacher stared at Tess, smiling. “First Name?”

“Tess.”

“Last name?”

“Servopoulos.”

There’s a distinct grunt as the woman scribbles something, a mistake, naturally.

“Child’s name?” Her eyes follow the paper, they’re looking for Ellie.

“Ellie. Ella?” Tess runs a frazzled hand against her dark roots, almost as if this is her first time in the gym. “Ellie.” She lands on that. “Should be under Ellie, her first name is Ella but last time when I checked her in as Ellie the woman didn’t believe that she was my child. Even when Servopoulous is probably the most uncommon name on the fucking list.”

“Last name.” She clicks her tongue, red hot eyes against Tess after she swore.

“Servopoulous.” She repeats, staggered tongue as the staff member tries harder that time, really listening to Tess as she talks fast, still missing a few letters.

“S-E-R-V-O–” Tess gets cut off again, stopping mid-sentence as the woman behind the desk looks up at her, raising a brow, enough disgust to fuel her daughter’s nightmares.

“Can I see some ID, please?”

“Course.” She fiddles with her purse, grabbing her wallet as she faces her driver's license towards the teacher.

“Theresea.” No unnecessary exposition for that name. Servopoulous. “You’re good to go. Just sign here, please.”

Tess brushes the comment off, signing her name as she grins, walking around the desk as her neck twirls, trying to spot Ellie.

Her daughter’s sitting in the corner of the gym, tower taller than her as she eats a snack, looking towards the door occasionally, waiting.

“Hi, baby girl.” Tess walks faster than water, waving towards Ellie as her daughter jumps, feet hitting the loud waxy floor as she sprints.

“Momma! Look!” the girl pointed towards the tower, a few inches off the ground as Tess takes a second to paint the picture against her eyelids, always wanting Ellie to be this giddy. “I built that!”

Tess feels her eyes widen as Ellie giggles, tightening her grip in her mom’s arm, the safest place on the planet. “I know,” says her daughter as Tess lets her jaw drop. “It’s like taller than you, Mommy!”

Tess nods, letting a laugh slide, unable to get the childlike innocence to glow. “It is, bug. I love it.”

“Cause you was like late again…” Ellie pauses, cheeks red as she thinks, whispering. “Was that mean, momma?” Her bottom lip quivers as all joy dies and in the moment Tess would do anything to get her smile back. “I just had more time, I wasn’t trying to be mean.”

“Elle.” Tess’ palm slips against her back, rubbing circles as Ellie frowns, petrified as her entire body goes silent. “You’re fine, buddy. Didn’t hurt my feelings at all. I’m sorry it took me so long to get here.”

“Work?”

“Mhm. Stupid meetings where everyone kept having to ask mommy questions.”

Ellie giggles and Tess feels all the pressure in her chest release as she stands, letting go of Ellie as the five year old moves to grab her backpack. “Maybe cause you’re really smart!”

She has enough degrees to let the theory remain true but even if it wasn’t, Tess wouldn’t have the heart to correct her. “Thank you, honey. You got all your stuff?”

”Yep!” she picks Tess’ palm up, well aware that they need to be intertwined in the streets and public places. Ellie takes one last look around, all her friends have gone home so there’s no goodbyes left for the day. Tess gives a fake smile towards the woman behind the table, hoping it’s something different tomorrow as she thanks her, holding the heavy door for Ellie as the crisp weather approached.

Tess looks down as she grabs her car keys, feeling the weight in her hand as Ellie hums. “What’s for dinner, mommy?”

“What do you want?”

[violetswritingg]

Thunderstruck

Tyler Owens x OFC!

Description: When cowgirl meets cowboy after a year of no-contact and chaos ensues during storm season!

Rating: M (Mentions of blood and death in Tornadoes and storms alike, angst and loss of loved ones, car accidents, Tornado aftermath, and injury to characters, slight age gap (5 years))

Want to read the other chapters?

Click here

2

May, 2010

Oklahoma

They say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree and they would be right. And twelve year old Riley St. James was anything if not her father's daughter. She had grown up watching him chase storms, had been in front of the camera for a little more than some of it. The older chasers out there remember her as Rocket. Always causing chaos whenever her dad brought her around, getting under people's feet and just always wanting to be in on the action.

Not much has changed as she got older, if anything, it only got worse. She had been in front of the camera yes but she had been limited to watching from home with her grandma in bed, her Aunt tucked beside her on the couch, holding her hand and both holding their breath to see if Nathan would make it back to them in one piece. Even though most people would find that stressful the St. James family was anything but normal.

"Riley Josephine Thornton-St. James! Get back in this vehicle right now!" Her dad's voice barely carried out the open window of the Warlock, affectionately nicknamed the St. James mobile by the fans. The 'truck' was more of a tank. 3 inches of steel layered on the outside, a lowering capability on the suspension, a steel skirt around the bottom to keep out air flow and x-wing doors, three-foot-long spikes set up to pierce into the ground to anchor them in should a tornado get to close, or they want to get in the eye of it. Not to mention the double paned, double layered three-inch think Plexi-glass windows.

A street legal tank. In other words.

Riley's grin was bright, even though her baby hair was plastered to her face, despite her effort this morning to make sure it was all braided back when they had left the house, clothes soaked, but she had never been happier.

"One sec!" Riley was never one to be too far from her camera in moments like this. The expensive machinery wrapped protectively in its own little rain poncho and was snapping photos as fast as it could.

The storm they had been tracking since this morning had been playing with them all morning, looking like it was going to touch down and then not, moving on and doing it again. They had been trying to intercept but missing every time, it was shifting its travel and wind speed and making it hard to keep up. She saw something though, and her smile got even bigger, "Dad! Look!"

"What are you seeing Riley?!" Her dad, Nathanial St. James, called, leaning as far in her direction as he dared while in control of the car.

"It's gonna touch down! Go go go!" Her free hand slapped the top of the Warlock, clear Plexi-glass under her palm, layered with steel armor and providing the best views of a storm from the safety of inside and flying debris.

"You heard her." Nathan chuckled and shook his head, pressing on the gas and making the next right. On a muddier dirt road now, trying to get in the path of the storm. It didn't take long, Riley started to climb back in reluctantly knowing her dad wouldn't let her stay out there much longer, she was already pushing it as is. But then she noticed the spin of the clouds.

"It's trying dad! Look at the rotation!"

"I see it Nugget! I see it!" They both watched as the storm spun and spun, both holding their breath as the dark clouds descended little by little. Until-

"And we have tornado Gensis!" She screamed and Nathan whooped as it touched down, roaring to life and taking off. Running from them. Riley once again having her camera in her face and snapping away.

"Alrighty! We have a chance here to complete our objective for today here folks and that is getting those telemetry probes into this tornado here and getting a deeper picture of what it's like in the inner vortex of a tornado. We only have a couple sets of this kind of data and with each new set we expand our understanding of these kinds of storms, and when we understand them, we can start trying to figure out how to stop them or disrupt them."

"Why do you have to make everything so boring?!" Riley laughed like a madwoman, only looking away from her view finder for a second to roll her eyes at her dad through the Plexi-glass roof. The older man narrowing his eyes.

"Watch it." Riley just grinned and stuck her tongue out. "Real mature. We could go home ya know?"

"No, we can't. Besides, like you would just leave a chase right after one touches down in front of you." His daughter knew him too well. He chuckled and shook his head. "Are you seeing this dad! It stopped! Slow down!"

Nathan had seen it a second after his daughter, glancing at the video recorder set up beside him, attached to the panel beside the windshield and aimed inside the cabin of the Warlock. People like to see what was happening inside the vehicle too. He knew it was capturing every second and grinned before looking back at the tornado.

"It seems we are witnessing a tornado stand still here folks, what a time to be alive! And what better time than Rocket's first chase! Just a note that this kind of behavior isn't normal for the majority of tornados. It's only been witnessed once before by a friend of mine in last year." Nathan beamed as he started to take his foot off the accelerator. Doing as his daughter asked. Knowing another camera was catching it directly from the view out of the front windshield at the same time. Allowing him to focus on this moment.

The lens caught the proud look bubbling in the father's eyes as he watched his daughter laugh in the rain. Her camera abandoned around her neck as she stuck an arm out, the other securing her inside the car. Her head tilted back as she let out a happy scream. Her mind stuck on how the cold droplets stung her cheeks and made her feel like she had been struck by lightning. Her smile is wide as the sky, feeling the wind pulling at her clothes. Strands of hair getting pulled loose, but she couldn't care less. Skin sticky with humidity that dripped in fat drop along with the rain and small hail pieces that had just started to drop down and sting her skin with every strike.

"It's still not moving. Why is it not moving? It's not going to dissipate, is it?" She yelled over the wind, coming back to the moment. Looking down into the Warlock as much as she could. Her dad's eyes were on the tornado, though, his grin had faded and something settled poorly in Riley's stomach. "No, that's not right, the rotation is still going and – oh shit." She saw the vertices along the storm and her stomach sank. Vertices, to Riley's best understanding, were the streaks of little tornados you see when it's a strong tornado. And she could tell the wind had picked up.

Something dark moved in the corner of her eye and she screamed, dodging something, it was too fast to tell what. But she had a feeling that was a lot closer than her brain was letting her process at this moment, and she could feel the shift in the air.

"Inside. Now!" Riley immediately had her ass in her seat. Harness and seatbelt on and the double layered windows locked up in their storm position. "Good girl, hold on." Her dad reversed.

"No, no, no! Dad the storm is moving north!" Riley pointed to the obvious direction of the tornado, her voice approaching a shrill cry.

"The team already reported it, NWS has it and warning have been issued. We have to get out of here. It's starting to pick up speed." His voice was no-nonsense. Anyone of his team members would nod and follow the orders but not Riley. Because why would his daughter ever listen to him?

"No, we don't! We're still miles out," Throwing her arm to the front, chilled fingers pointing at the distance as if her dad couldn't tell for himself just fine, but she didn't care, she had a point to prove, "Besides, it's still going slow enough right now that we can catch up, get in its path, anchor, launch the probes, and get the data. But only if we go right now! There is nothing in its way, no towns, no nothing. It's the perfect tornado and you know it." She started to rummage around in the back, finding what she was looking for and wrapping a blanket around her.

"Riley." His tone was a warning, too bad his daughter took after him.

"Dad please. I'm not scared." Riley pleaded, "The car will protect us. That's what it's here for yeah?" Looking at him with her big blue eyes was enough to kill him, the father simply crumpling. He had taught her well; she knew what to do. He had to trust her.

"If it gets to be too much, you tell me, we turn around. Got it?" He checked in, needing her to know they would still turn around if she needed them too. No arguments, just fleeing the storm he's usually driving into.

"Got it." Riley nodded, her grin stupidly bright, practically vibrating, "Now North."

"You're gonna kill me one of these days kid." Her dad chuckles and shakes his head. Looking to the video recorder, "You heard her guys. Missions still on." He grabs his walkie and gets in contact with the other half of the team coming up around the back of the storm system. Getting a check-in of all systems go.

"Okay, here we go." Riley muttered after a couple more turns and a shift in direction they had managed to catch up. The swirling streams of air were dark and ominous and Riley shifted in her seat, Nathan noticing, Riley grabbed the tablet from the glove box, it wasn't huge, but it was new and she could see the doppler and radar readings on it. She looked to her dad, seeing what was happening and feeling her chest twist in anxiety, but she didn't show it. She trusted the Warlock, she trusted her dad. they would be okay.

"It's not an EF1 anymore dad." Riley informed, looking to the man with a worried downturn to her young eyebrows.

"I know, trust me I know." Nathan grit, white knuckling the steering wheel, his foot still on the gas. "Hold on!" He called as he sped up.

"It's right there dad!" The mam came to a screeching halt, pulling to the shoulder.

"Warlock lowered, Deploy spikes." Nathan spoke into his walkie, Riley reached to the center console and hit the button that did so. The sound of the hydraulics lost in the cacophony of wind and rain. "Rocket loaded," Nathan muttered into the walkie again, his finger hovering the launch button watching the roof, waiting. Riley watched him in awe, looking up at the tornado, wishing she could understand what was happening fully, but she still had a lot to learn.

The Warlock withholds and Riley is shaking. Her head felt like it was about the explode and the roar of the wind was all she could hear along with her dad screaming that the probes were launched and him telling her to hold on. The wind started to pick up more and the car groaned.

"Dad!" Riley's hands were white knuckling over her harness straps.

"It's okay! Just breathe baby girl. Just breathe! You're doing amazing!"

The car started to get pulled and tilt, Riley screamed as they were rolled down the side of the country road, landing upside down in an irrigation ditch as the tornado continued to push them around in the field. The heavy chassis is the only thing keeping them on the ground at this point. Nathan wanted to curse everything. What happened to the light EF1?!

"Hold on! We're caught in the back draft!" Riley grimaced as they were pulled back in reverse and then spit forward. She could feel the weight of the Warlock shifting and so did her dad. Nathan thrown an arm across his daughter's shoulder's to hold her steady as the Warlock was picked up. The tail end of it lifting up first. When they were fully in the air they didn't stick around long in the tornado. Getting tossed after about 10 seconds inside.

All Riley could see was grey, and dark. Debris flying all around them, her pupils blown as her adrenaline spiked and her palms began to sweat. Her throat closed up and she gripped onto her father's arm for dear life. It was over in the blink of an eye, but it felt like an eternity. And next thing she knew she was weightless before feeling the violent jolt. A crash. And then they were rolling. An involuntary scream left her throat and her dad held onto her tighter.

They rolled until, but by some stroke of luck, they rolled right back onto their tires. The tornado moving away from them now, but instead of demanding to follow it Riley was silent. Her chest fluttering with every sharp breath. Blue eyes wide, pupils blown wider as she shook in her seat.

"Riley? Baby? Look at me, are you hurt? Any blood. Hey, hey!" Nathan's matching irises searched his daughter's face as he questioned her. He was a little shook from that, he can't imagine what she's feeling. It was his raised voice and his hands on her face forcing her eyes to meet his that broke her out of her frozen state. Nathan's eyebrows scrunched heavily in the middle of his forehead, his every pore bleeding worry, fear, for his kid. Normal parent things. He could never tell what she was going to do and she did what she always does, send him for a loop, as she started laughing. Throwing her head forward against her dad's chest. Loud cackles leaving her as the adrenaline hits heavy and leaves her system fast now that they weren't in danger and her shoulders shake. Her dad grins a little but is still trying to find any injuries.

"I'm okay dad, I'm okay." She breathed, letting him push back some of her now dried hair, now much frizzier than before but that was the last of her worries, "I promise. But holy shit!"

Nathan was going to scold her but the water in her eyes cut off his harsh tone in his throat, tears were falling down her face as she kept laughing. And his eyes softened, petting her hair gently.

"I'm right here. We're okay. Just breathe for me, okay? Can you do that?" Nathan knew better than most what adrenaline can do to an adult body, but for kids as young as Riley it was something completely different. "Follow me." He mimicked a breathing technique he had learned early on to help him cope with this himself. He still did it after rough chases, or a close call. It helped ground him.

"Did we get the data?" she breathed out and her dad grinned. Grabbing his daughter's chin lightly and moving her head to annoy her. handing her the tablet with his other hand.

"I don't know, why don't you check?" Her dad smiles down at her softly, still keyed up for adrenaline and fighting off his own shakes.

Now that he knew Riley was okay, he got out of the car, leaving her to have fun analyzing, she didn't fully understand all the numbers yet and that was to be expected, she was 12. But she liked to watch them roll in, it meant they had accomplished something.

"Baby," her dad whispered as he opened the driver door up, motioning for Riley to come to him, holding a hand out. She scrambled over the center console and all it's switches and buttons. Her dad laughing at the excitement in her eyes. "There's something I think you'll want to see. Grab the camera."

When she had the camera in her hands and was on her feet in front of him, looking up at him like he hung the stars in the sky, he smiled softly down at his daughter. Brushing some of her hair down before placing his hand on the back of her shoulder and leading her out in the muddy field. Her boots squishing in it with every step. She followed where her dad was pointing and her breath was stolen from her lungs. The hail in the storm causing a bright blue glow among the shelf clouds feeding into the storm. It reminded her of a clear blue lake, perfect.

"Yeah, it is. You knew what you were talking about huh?" Her dad chuckled as Riley startled, not knowing she had said it out loud. Throwing his arm around his daughter's shoulders and pulling her into a brief side hug after she pulled her camera from her face. Both of them enjoying the moment, Riley's smile soft but content, her temple against his shoulder as she leaned into her dad. "If you feel it?" He whispered into her hair

"Chase it!" Riley chirped and giggled, Nathan following suit until they were both hunched over and gasping. Clinging onto another to keep upright. 

It was perfect. It was.

Until it wasn't.

[kandy-sticks-zaza-blogs]

✨💤What I imagine about the Happy Inn bedrooms🛏️✨

Charlene

She would have Glimmer rooms (Idea by: @dnpanimationstudioclone )

Her bedroom would remind her of heaven because she is homesick when she's down here in hell missing her friends up in heaven

A very soft cushion for a sore tired body.

Valerie

Closed the curtains to enjoy the dark and admire how her room looks so beautiful.

She's a nocturnal cause she is a vampire squid but she sleeps during the daytime.

Charlene and Valerie would sleep together if they have nightmares.

Angelo

Loves the 70s bedroom having warm colours.

Gets exhausted after a long day but prefer to sleep on the Couch instead of a bed.

Fat Nuggets love to sleep on the bed

Alastor

This man doesn’t needs to sleep since he’s a Marsh Deer.

He usually lied down to listen to the record player.

He would usually take a few naps if his head hurts.

Husk

Messy Dull room he sleeps a lot on the bed and not a morning person.

His room is restricted he wouldn’t allowed anyone in the room except Nifty would come into his bedroom to clean up the mess.

Not a big fan of decorating his room he’s just too lazy to do it.

Nifty

Loves colourful rooms and patchwork.

She always calls Baxter on the telephone when he’s downstairs in his medic room.

She doesn’t love boring colours when she got engaged with her husband in the past.

Sir Pentious

He loves the room Charlene let him stayed in.

The bedroom would remind him of his past life.

He sleeps in his own bedroom from his blimp but his bed is more comfortable.

Crymini

Moody Teenager bedroom.

Charlene tried to guess her aesthetic as Crymini just shrugged it off.

Mostly sleep if she feels like it since she’s a sloth sin.

Baxter

His room would have a clinic and a secret basement to do his experiment.

This man have sleep deprivation but get exhausted easily when he felt like it.

Charlene didn't know he is hiding a secret lab from her.

Mimzy

Charlene tried to choose a room but Mimzy chooses a Las Vegas themed room.

Have a good sleeping schedule everyday.

Came back from the show as that she’s always flopping on the bed mattress.

[witchcraft-in-wonderland]

My Muse's Mirror (Pt.1)

-------------------------

“Virgil it's been three hours- are you coming to bed or not?” Virgil looked up from the couch, legs hanging lazily over the top as he leaned against the center coffee table.

“In a minute! I'm finishing up a commission!” he said, turning his attention back to the. . . Interestingly dressed mishmash of fur and colors that was his latest art request.

“You said ‘in a minute’ 3 hours ago, that commission isn't due until next week- I'm sure you can pick it back up in the morning,” Roman said, Virgil listened as his husband shuffled off of the bed, feeling making a slight pattern patter sound as he approached.

“Trust me when I say this, Ro, you don't want to look at anything on screen right now,” Virgil chuckled at the already dawning horror on Roman's face as his bright green eyes traced over to the drawing tablet.

“It's good money- pretty sure the guy's got a science job or something,” Virgil said nonchalantly, saving the drawing and plugging the tablet in on a side table.

“Alright- fine- bedtime for me I guess,” Virgil stretched his arms out before getting up from his precarious couch position.

“That's what I thought,” Roman stepped behind him, evidently in a vague attempt to block him from running back to the tablet to do some ‘last minute detailing’. Virgil glanced at the smartwatch on his wrist, which read 3:47am. Geez, he really had been up for a while.

“Don't forget your teeth tall dark and sleep deprived,” Roman said before climbing back into bed.

Virgil made his way into the bathroom, taking his phone out of his sweatpants and pulling up YouTube to find a decent 3-minute song.

With the insides of his mouth now thoroughly engulfed with the overwhelming taste of mint Virgil climbed into bed, wriggling his way into Roman's arms.

His peaceful sleep was interrupted by the God forsaken sound of Roman's alarm clock. Virgil let out a small whine of protest as he felt the warmth of Roman's body slip away to leave him in the cold dark abyss of an empty bed.

“Aaaww, don't worry my chemically imbalanced romance, I will return shortly from my quest with chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese for dinner,” Roman said with a laugh, ruffling Virgil's hair.

“It's not a quest it's a 9 to 5 where you get paid to sing at people while they try to order food,” Virgil said with a laugh.

“Well- if you're so incensed shout it then maybe I won't take you out to the carnival after my shift,” Roman taunted.

“Wait- carnival?”

“They just opened for the winter, seems like a pretty spooky theme, I thought you might like to go, but if you're just sooooooo upset about my job. . .”

“Nononono forget I said anything! I want to go pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease!-” Virgil, in a surprising turn of usual events, had gotten out of bed before 12pm at the news.

“Fiiiinnneee- I suppose I'll take you after work,” Roman said, smiling.

Virgil, deciding that since he was already up, he might as well get a few things done, decided to get himself some coffee and breakfast with his cousin Janus, and his new boyfriend.

“So Virgil, what'd you do for a living?” Patton was a very- Spunky- Person, not the kind of guy Virgil would've pegged for Janus, then again, he doubted Roman would've been the expected choice for himself.

“Oh uh- I'm an online artist,” Virgil responded, face flushing slightly pink.

“Oh wow! You must be very talented,” Patton said, all smiles and encouragement. Virgil was having a very difficult time figuring out if he was ever serious about anything he was saying, or if the sweetness was some kind of weird power trip.

“Uh- thanks- I guess-”

“Don't mind him dear, he hasn't quite figured out the concept of self confidence yet,” Janus said, chuckling.

“My confidence has nothing to do with my hesitancy to talk about my career and you know it,” Virgil said, eliciting a small snrk sound from Janus, who was very clearly trying to avoid breaching the topic of what kind of commissions Virgil usually earned the biggest salary from.

“So- this carnival Roman's taking you to later tonight- is it far?” Janus asked.

“Not by much, only like an hour or two,” Virgil responded, finishing off the last of his croissant.

“Oh, then I'm sure you'll have plenty of animation ideas by the time you get there,” Janus said with a laugh.

“What can I say? There's nothing like a good long dissociative spell to get rid of a little art block,” Patton looked vaguely alarmed, but held back whatever he might have wanted to say about that particular statement.

“Well I'd love to stay and chat about your unhealthy coping mechanisms, but I'm afraid Patton and I have a train to catch- big business party tonight,” Janus said as he stood up from the table.

“Don't get too drunk, don't want your new boyfriend seeing you cry about snakes again do you?” Virgil said, snickering as Janus moved to pull his hat over his rapidly darkening face.

Virgil watched the two of them leave, then hopped into his own car for a quick drive to his brother-in-law Remus’ house.

“We finished up the paperwork yesterday, so now we're just waiting to hear back from the adoption agency! I don't think Logan's ever been so excited in his life- well- other than getting Valedictorian in high school- or after that trip to Spain we took to visit Ro and I's grandparents- or-” 

“I think Logan might just be very excited about new things, Remus,” Virgil said, admiring Remus’ newest addition to his pottery shelf.

“Is this one a commission? Or are you keeping it?” Virgil asked, tilting his head at a particularly horrific looking sculpture.

“Oh yeah- that one's for me, one of my ‘therapy pieces’,” Remus replied.

“Ah- that explains it,” Virgil said, taking a seat on the nearby couch and giving a resolute scratch behind the ears to Remus and Logan's dog, Rosalie.

They sat and talked for a while, about Logan's new job at the local daycare, about emotional expression through art, about some of Roman's newest embarrassing stories that he didn't need to know they were talking about.

“Well- I should get going- Roman'll be heading home any moment now and I want to make sure I'm ready to head to the carnival when he's off,” Virgil said, standing up from the dining room table.

“Have fun- take pictures- and if you find any fun souvenirs I'd love to see them,” Logan, who'd just gotten home from his own shift, said as Virgil left through the door with a small wave.

“See anything interesting?” Roman asked, watching Virgil eye some of the carnival shop stands curiously.

“What about. . . This? I think it would look good on you,” Virgil said, holding up a silver dragon necklace with red gems where the eyes would be.

“Oh you'll want to be careful with that one my dear. . . Legend says that the soul of a selfish and arrogant prince is trapped inside. . .” The woman manning the counter spoke in a low raspy tone, her black hair covering her face under the raggedy cloak she wore.

Virgil laughed it off, handing her a few bucks and clasping the necklace around Roman's neck.

They spent the rest of the day riding around on the carnival rides until the amount of snack food they'd been eating felt like it might catch up with them, before heading home for the night.

“Don't go to bed too late my dear, I'll be waiting,” Roman said as he headed off to bed, the silver chain of his new necklace peeking out from his pajama shirt.

“I'll go to bed before 3am, promise-” Virgil responded, setting up his work station, maybe he could finish up that commission tonight so he and Roman would have the whole day to themselves tomorrow, to see if maybe there was a matching necklace or something at that carnival.

Virgil could've sworn he saw a spider, somewhere. . .

[larz-barz]

Oversized

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Warning(s)/info: Fluffy cuteness, adorable couple things, Hideaki is @hotelcaliforniaenbydancer’s oc

Tagging: @hotelcaliforniaenbydancer @nothingtoseehere1-2-3 @rosalinastan1 @ayunakatsukiwolfhashira @pinkwisteria @nimmie-nugget @kimetsu-chan @frostburn-shoto @floofgryph

——————————————————————————

Hideaki is walking through the mall, getting ready to go home, and a bright smile grows on his face when he sees a hoodie his size that immediately reminds him of his adorable little girlfriend.

“Miki would love this…” He murmurs to himself with a big smile.

The hoodie is dark purple and the hood has cat ears that would be perfect for keeping Mikitama’s little ears warm.

He checks the price and smiles. ‘Worth it for my Mikita.’ He thinks as he goes to pay for the hoodie.

After paying for the hoodie, Hideaki heads home and washes the hoodie then sprays some of his signature cologne on it so it would smell like him.

He giggles as he puts the gift in a place that he knows Mikitama would see it and take it from.

Hideaki knows she’ll ask before taking it, but he loves the way Mikitama’s eyes light up when she finds things that he left lying around for her to take.

His smile grows when he hears a soft knock on the door and he rushes to open it. “Hi Mikita!” He exclaims happily as he hugs her and lets in, smiling lovingly from the sound of her happy giggles.

“Hi Hide!” Mikitama responds happily then comes in, her eyes immediately going to the purple hoodie on the arm of the couch.

After a few minutes, when Mikitama thinks Hideaki isn’t watching her, she discreetly grabs the hoodie and smells it then starts purring from Hideaki’s pleasant scent lingering on the fabric.

Hideaki smiles softly as he discreetly watches Mikitama’s happy expression.

He walks over to her and hugs her from behind, slightly startling her. “Go ahead and take it, sweetheart..” He says softly, slightly tightening his arms around her small form.

“R-really.? I can take it..?” She asks shyly as she turns around in his arms and he smiles and nods.

“Of course, Mimi!” He says happily, brushing her hair away from her precious face.

His smile grows when Mikitama’s gorgeous eyes light up. “Thank you Hide..!” She says happily as she wraps her arms around him and he smiles brightly as she pulls away to put the large hoodie on.

Hideaki’s eyes sparkle with so much love and affection for Mikitama as he picks up the tiny yokai, bridal style, and kisses her nose, then her forehead, then her cheeks, and finally her soft lips.

Mikitama blushes brightly as she shyly kisses him back then when they gaze at each other lovingly.

“You’re so adorable, Mikita… I love you more than anything…” Hideaki says with a loving smile as he sits on the couch, holding Mikitama close, in his lap.

Mikitama blushes brightly and smiles shyly.

“I love you too, Hide…”

~the end~

i hope you like it sibby!!🥺💕💕