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forays-into-fiction · 2 years

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I Want You So Bad I Can’t Breathe

You met Eddie when you first moved to Hawkins, Indiana it was an especially difficult time for you and Eddie was the one to stand by you, becoming fast friends. But then he was moving on to middle school and leaving you behind only to forget about you. You admire him from afar until Hellfire Club where you finally reconnect.

Request fill for @harringtonfan4 hope you like it, sorry if I went too hard on the negative self-image/insecurity stuff 😅

Minors DNI

Contains: Dom!Eddie/Sub!Reader, Slight Perv!Eddie Virgin!Reader, PlusSize!Reader, Insecure!Eddie, Insecure!Reader, Loss of Virginity, Angst, Major Internalised Fatphobia/Fatphobia, Bullying, Daddy Kink, Spitting, Dirty Talk, Fingering, Praise Kink, Innocence/Virginity Kink, Unprotected Sex, Drug Use (Weed)

Fat. It was a word you’d heard more than half your life by now at eighteen. The first time someone called you fat you were seven, she was supposed to be your friend… your best friend, but her snide little, ‘Why are you so fat? It’s so gross!’ stuck with you.

Looking back now you know you weren’t fat… you know it every time you look back, but you can never see it in the moment. And you weren’t fat you were just an average sized little girl with chubby little cheeks.

No matter how far back it’s always been ‘oh I used to think I was so fat back then, what I would give to go back to that size. But now, now I really am fat’

Over the years this mindset had really impacted your life, you used to be more outgoing, you used to love to sing and dance, you used to live without constantly thinking about how everyone else saw you. Because no one wants to see the fat girl having fun, enjoying life right… better to hide away.

You had tried to lose weight, so many times… and you did, but every time you’d lose weight as soon as you’d hit a plateau your weight would sit there for a bit before slowly creeping back up and up and up. At least until you weighed even more than when you’d started.

It wasn’t just your friend that had made comments about your weight, she was the first but she certainly wasn’t the last. You’d also had a bully around the same time, she had consistently tormented you every day.

Day after day she’d drag you away from your friends, pulling you into a secluded corner to harass you verbally, physically, mentally… until one day you finally told someone.

Your mum went off on that other girl, threatened her so badly every time you saw her since then she’d cross the road to avoid you… but the damage had been done.

You didn’t have to deal with the aftermath for too long, shortly after your parents had decided to move to Hawkins, Indiana to be closer to your grandparents.

Your little brother was almost four now and they were going to need help taking care of the two of you, both of them working long hours and odd shifts just to get by. Also needed a bigger house to accommodate the needs of your growing family.

You were eight when you first met him, he was ten both of you still in elementary school. You were new in town, that in itself already made you an oddity to say the least.

Some kids had been picking on you, calling you names, pushing you around, you were on the verge of tears when he stepped in. He’d scared them off pretty easily, being both older and taller, buzzed head giving him a ‘tougher’ look.

Once they had left, he turned to you, placing a hand on your shoulder looking into your eyes like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, “Hey, don’t pay attention to shitheads like that, ok? I’m Eddie.”

“Y/n…” You reply shakily.

“Y/n,” He repeats, “that is a very pretty name. Nice to meet you y/n.”

“N-nice to meet you t-too.”

“Wanna have lunch with me?”

“Yeah…”

You’d spent the rest of that school year by his side he’d introduced you to this game he played, Dungeons and Dragons. He’d jokingly criticised your taste in music, telling you he’d show you some real music.

You pout and protest that just because he doesn’t like your music doesn’t mean it’s not real music, but begrudgingly you listen to his stuff and find you actually like it… not that you’d admit it to him, you’d never give him the satisfaction.

If you were honest with yourself, you’d been smitten with him since that day, but you buried those thoughts and feelings deep down, tried to ignore it.

But then all too quickly he’s moving on to middle school, the two of you promise to stay in touch but you don’t. You don’t want to push it either, he’s probably moved on to something better… someone better.

In his absence you became closer with one Nancy Wheeler. Your brother and hers were in the same playgroup and your families had become closer as a whole. Both you and her were the same age, you’d bonded over the little things and she was a good friend to you.

It’s not until another two years later that you see him again, you’re starting middle school and he’s in his final year there. His hair is a bit longer now, no longer completely buzzed, still cropped short but growing out.

You admire him from afar, he wouldn’t remember you… why would he remember you? You couldn’t risk embarrassing yourself by approaching him now.

Your brother and his friends have discovered Dungeons and Dragons, the game has changed a bit since you first played but you sit in with them for a few sessions, Nancy also joins on occasion.

You DM until Will asks to take over one session, then they all take turns at being DM, each running their own campaign with your guidance. As Nancy starts to lose interest in the game, you feel you should stick with her rather than intrude on your brother’s group.

And time slips by the year is over, he’s moving on to high school, leaving you behind once more.

By the time you see him again you’re both in high school, his hair is longer still, becoming a bushy mane around his head, he’s really embracing the ‘metal’ look from what you can see and it suits him you think.

You hear he’s started a D&D group here at the school, Hellfire Club it was called. You were tempted to join, you had really missed him all these years, you doubt he would have even spared you a second thought… who would? Why would he care about that fat, little weird kid who followed him around for a year?

You ask Nancy what she thinks, “I kinda know the guy that runs it, we were friends for a little while. It was before you and I really started hanging out properly, but I don’t think he remembers me. What do you think, should I join? Would you join with me?”

“I think if you want to join you should, and it seems like you do… but I don’t know about joining myself, I kind of outgrew that phase. I’m thinking of signing up for the school paper though.”

“Oh, yeah that’s great you definitely should!”

“So, what about you? You going to join that club?”

“Ummm… yeah, maybe… I do want to, but I’m a little nervous.”

“I thought you said the guy that runs it is a friend, just talk to him.”

“Yeah, but we haven’t talked in years, I’m sure he doesn’t remember me.”

“It’ll be fine if you are worried about talking to him directly, I’m sure they’d have some sort of sign-up sheet, just go put your name down.” She shrugs.

“Yeah. Yeah, ok that doesn’t sound too bad.”

And they do have a sign-up sheet, it’s hung just outside the drama room, but you can’t see a pen anywhere. You rummage around in your bag for your pencil case, but then he appears beside you and you jump.

He holds a pen out towards you with one hand, the other on which he’d drawn a silly, little face comes up and he makes it ‘talk’ with a funny voice, “Need a pen?”

“Ahhh… yeah, thanks…?” You take the offered pen awkwardly.

His silly face hand drops, internally he’s facepalming, ‘why the fuck did you do that?’ he thinks pressing on despite this, “Eddie. My name is Eddie.”

You shift self-consciously avoiding looking him in the eye, “Yeah, I uhh… I remember you, Eddie. You probably don’t remember me-”

A broad grin spreads across his face, “Are you kidding, of course I remember you, princess. Sorry if I scared you earlier, by the way. So, you’re signing up for Hellfire, huh?”

You shrug, “Yeah, if you’ll have me, I guess.”

“It’ll be just like the good old days. You still been playing?”

“Umm… not so much lately, but you remember my little brother?”

He nods, you continue, “He and his friends are really into it now. When they first started I DM’ed for them, at least until they got the hang of it.”

“Awww, princess DM’ing… I woulda loved to see that.”

“I mean you still could… if I’m joining Hellfire…”

“Oh, no… no I am the Dungeon Master there, princess no one else. And I run a brutal campaign… you better prepare yourself. I’m not about to go easy on you, just cause it’s you.”

“We’ll see about that won’t we Munson, I can take brutal, you know.”

He just about chokes on his words at that, but manages to contain himself… barely, “Uhh huh sure you can, princess.”

The next couple of years after that the two of you reconnect, it was like you’d never been apart, but again he’s coming up on his final year, about to leave you behind yet again. And then… he doesn’t, he doesn’t graduate, he fails his senior year.

You’re torn on the one hand it means you get another year with him, another year before he disappears again. On the other hand, you hated seeing him fail, you knew how shitty high school was for him, constantly being mocked and teased. You hadn’t had it any better either, but having him there helped and now you’d have him for another year.

But now, now you’re eighteen, he’s twenty and he’s failed again. So, you get to share all your classes with him, you feel guilty about how happy you are to still have him with you.

Your little brother and his friends are just starting high school and Eddie takes them under his wing, inviting them to join you at your table. You would have done so yourself, but he’d beaten you to it and it reminded you of the day you met him, the way he stood up for you, the way he still stood up for you.

Your feelings have resurfaced… or maybe they’d always been there, just bubbling away in the hidden recesses of your mind. You hated yourself for it, it wasn’t for you to have a crush… nothing could possibly come of it, you’d seen the way he’d looked at other girls, prettier girls, skinnier girls… he’d never want you, why bother? And every day you dig yourself deeper into this hole, torturing yourself.

He’s driving you to school one day when you find yourself humming along to one of the songs on his radio and he is very quick to call you out on it. “Hey, I thought you didn’t like my, quote ‘shitty metal’?”

You give him a shove, “Fuck off, you know I don’t.”

“Oh, yeah then why are you fucking humming Metallica hmmm?” He grins smugly.

“I dunno, I guess it grows on you… like a wart… or a skin lesion… or you.”

“Hey, you take that back!”

You giggle, “Never.”

“Oh, really is that how it is?” He glances over at you briefly, taking one hand from the steering wheel he begins poking at you “Take. It. Back.”

You squirm away from his prodding fingers, but then instead of getting your arm or your shoulder he misses and makes contact with the swell of your belly and you freeze.

He knows he’s done something wrong, when he glances over again, the way your giggles die on your lips, the way you won’t look at him.

“What’s wrong princess?” He asks seriously.

“Nothing. Nothing, just drive.” Your voice sounds almost empty, but he doesn’t push any further.

Nancy knows, even if you won’t admit it at first, but she knows about your not so little crush. When you finally do admit it, she encourages you to do something about it, but you can’t… you couldn’t, could you? What if it ruined everything between the two of you… after all why would he ever look at you like that…

It does no good to dwell on these thoughts, but they come up, every time you’re in his van, every time he looks at you with that glint in his eye, every time you’re sat in his bedroom… on his bed, smoking and laughing and forgetting who you are for just a split second. It gives you hope, but then it all comes crashing down around you.

When he shows you how to roll your first joint, you can’t take your eyes off of him. You don’t hear a word he’s saying, it washes over you without comprehension. He sits facing you from the foot of your bed, you sit cross-legged facing him, leaning in slightly.

You watch his nimble fingers working away, the way his tongue darts out to wet the paper, his eyes never leaving yours, making sure you pay attention. It makes you feel hot all over, squirming as he’s twisting off the end giving you a little grin, proudly showing it off, “… and that is how it’s done.”

“Uhh cool, thanks.” You move to pluck it from his fingertips but he snatches it away.

“Ah, ah, ah don’t you know the rules… roller’s rights?”

You look at him in confusion, he explains, “The roller always takes the first hit.”

“Oh, ok.” You mumble and settle back down into the pillows. He lights up the end then takes a few puffs before passing it over to you, you take a deep drag and choke almost immediately. He laughs before smacking you on the back, before rubbing in soothing circles “Hey, take it easy… just breathe.”

He reaches across you to the water sitting on your bedside table, “Here take a sip, it’ll help.”

You take a few sips of water and steady your breathing before he continues, his hand still on your back, “When you take a hit it’s just a few little breaths in, slowly, lightly. Don’t try to take too much at once, it’s not the same as smoking a cigarette, ok?”

“Yep, uhh huh.” You croak out.

“And hold the smoke in your mouth first, then breathe in from here…” he rubs a hand over his belly, up high by his diaphragm.

“You wanna try again?”

You nod humming in response and he nods back for you to go ahead.

You follow his advice and it goes better, you try again and it’s even easier.

“Alright, now pass it back.” He holds out a hand and you hand it over to him.

“There, now give it a few minutes before you try again, it’s your first time don’t wanna go too hard, too fast.” He takes another puff.

You giggle, teasing, “But what if I want hard and fast?”

And then he’s choking, spluttering, coughing up smoke.

“Jesus H Christ… princess you can’t say shit like that, someone might take it the wrong way one day.” He gasps out.

You roll your eyes, “Eddie, come on no one is thinking of me like that, get real.”

He hesitates a moment, “What if… what if I told you I thought of you like that?”

“Haha, very funny…” you reply sarcastically, but he’s not laughing, “… wait a minute you’re serious?”

“Yeah, you got no fucking idea…”

“Are you sure that isn’t just the weed talking, I mean I heard it can make people-”

He cuts you off with a fierce kiss, pushing his lips to yours forcefully, nipping at your bottom lip gently, the joint burning down steadily in his limp grip. When he breaks away, he looks at you with lust clouded eyes, “Oh, I’m real fucking sure, princess. I have been crushing on you since God only knows when.”

You look up at him through your lashes, bashfully, “Ummm I’ve been crushing on you pretty much since the day we met.” You confess.

“Shit… can I fucking kiss you again?” He breathes out.

“Yeah… umm, maybe just get rid of that first.” You nod down to his fingers.

“Oh, right… yeah.” He mumbles reaching for his black metal lunchbox, snubbing out the joint on the lid and tossing it inside.

He looks back over at you, leaning in slowly, you don’t know why, but you’re blurting out, “imavirgin…” the words meld together in your embarrassment.

“What was that? Didn’t quite get that...”

You take a deep steadying breath, making sure to enunciate clearly this time, you repeat, “I’m a virgin.”

He lets out a guttural groan, “Fuck, princess is that true? No one… no one’s ever touched you before?”

“Umm no never… never been kissed before either…” You admit shyly.

“That’s quite a few firsts tonight, isn’t it? Do you wanna tackle a few more?”

You nod, pouting at him, “Please Eddie, kiss me again?”

“How could I refuse?”

He swoops in capturing your lips between his own once more, you feel his tongue probing for entrance you let out a needy whine and it’s slipping in alongside your own.

You tangle your hands into his hair you gasp as he lifts you into his lap, you pull away, “Wh-what’re you doing, don’t I’m heavy…”

“Oh no, you are just perfect, you sit right there, right on top of my cock.” He emphasises this with a roll of his hips and the hard bulge of his dick grinds into your heated core. You whine again at the sensation, feeling a wetness pool between your thighs.

He pulls you back in for another kiss, sloppier than the previous and you grind back against him with a moan.

“Did you mean it?” He gasps into your mouth.

“Huh?”

“When you said you want it ‘hard and fast’… or was that just a joke?”

“I dunno… it wasn’t entirely a joke…”

“You think you can handle it hard and fast, do you think you’ll still like me after, if I’m rough?” He growls.

“Please Eddie, I want you. I want you so bad I can’t breathe.” You gasp.

“Ok, but we’re gonna start off slow alright? Then we can ramp it up to hard and fast.” He chuckles darkly.

As he resumes kissing you his hands move to lift your shirt and you pull away suddenly.

“You ok, sweetheart? You change your mind?” Concern laces his voice.

“No… no it’s not that… just, could we maybe turn the lights off…?”

It’s like a switch flips in his head, “Oh no, no sweetheart I wanna see all of you… every gorgeous bit. The things I would do to you…”

He groans his hands dropping to your plump legs that straddle his own, squeezing them softly, urging you to move against him more firmly, “Wanna bury my face between these thighs… so fucking gorgeous… wanna do so much with ‘em, bite ‘em, suck em, kiss ‘em… push your legs together and fuck them.”

He drops one hand to cup your ass, kneading the soft flesh, he growls, “Oh and if you let me take you from behind, I could watch your ass jiggle as I pound into you, maybe slap it a bit if you’d let me… would you like that princess? Want me to slap that fucking glorious ass of yours? You have no idea how many times I’ve been distracted by just that… thinking about bending you over and just taking you…” You’re panting desperately at his touch, barely done anything and he’s already got you absolutely wrecked.

He moves his hand up to your chest, groping your breasts he lets out a guttural moan as you whine pitifully, “And these tits, don’t even get me started on those… absolutely perfect… shove my face into them too, suck on your nipples, pinch ‘em ‘til you fucking scream… oh god, I’d love it if you held your tits together… let me fuck em ‘til I cum all over your pretty face, watch it drip down your chin…” his filthy mouth has you soaking your panties, grinding down into him.

You barely register that he’s popped the button on your jeans sliding them down slowly until he flips you over onto your back and you gasp, you never knew he was so strong, the way he was manhandling you like it was nothing.

He kneels between your legs, towering over you, you yelp as he grabs your jeans roughly pulling them the rest of the way down before you can protest.

You unconsciously tug the hem of your shirt lower to cover yourself and he swats your hands away, “Ah, ah sweetheart none of that I wanna see you… how about this, if I take off my shirt you let me take off yours?”

You bite you lip as you consider it, God do you wanna see him… bare chest, tattoos all on display… you nod nervously, mumbling “O-ok… b-but you first…?”

He concedes, “Ok, sweetheart me first.”

He hooks a hand into the collar of his shirt pulls it off and tosses it across the room blindly, your eyes rake over him, practically salivating at the sight, lingering on the sparse trail of hair peeking out over his belt. He’s smirking down at you as you pout up at him, “Pants too?”

“What about them?” He teases.

“Wan’ you to take yours off too… ‘s only fair…”

He grins devilishly, eyes glinting, “How about you take them off for me, princess?”

You sit up and place a shaky hand over his belt buckle, your fingers just grazing the hair of his happy trail. You undo the belt clumsily and unzip his jeans before rolling them down his thighs slowly. His baggy blue and white chequered boxers do little to hide his erection as it tents the fabric there.

Before you can do anything else he’s pushing you back into the pillows behind you, “Now, I seem to remember that the deal was… tit for tat, or rather tats for tits you may say…” he chuckles.

You giggle and resist the urge to fight him when his hands drop to toy with the hem of your shirt, he leans in easing your shirt up, trailing kisses over your belly, your chest, until he pulls your shirt over your head and tosses that aside too, diving back in to kiss you eagerly on the lips. He pulls away leaving you breathless, humming in appreciation, “Beautiful…”

“Eddie stoop…” You whine swatting at him.

“Never, I meant what I said and I’m gonna suck on those tits ‘til you’re begging me for more… there’s uhh… something I want you to do for me though…”

“What’s that?” You mumble curiously.

“Don’t call me Eddie. Do you think you could… call me ‘daddy’ while we…”

You gasp, “Fuck… yeah I can do that for you… daddy.”

“Yeah, just like that, sweetheart.” He moans encouragingly before ducking his head to the crook of your neck biting, kissing, mouthing on it as his hands wrap around you. Calloused, ringed fingers brush against your back as he fiddles with the clasp of your bra, he gets it loose and slips it off down your arms.

He trails kisses down your chest until he reaches a nipple, sucking it into his mouth, laving over it with his tongue. His hands join his mouth, pushing your tits closer together, pinching and rolling the other nipple between his fingers. Your breath hitches at his ministrations and you let out a shaky moan.

“So, fucking responsive… love that I’m the only one who gets to do this to you…” He growls against your skin. He takes the hand closest to his mouth and caresses your mound, before dipping his fingers under the waistband. He runs his fingertips through your slick, teasing your entrance before dragging the up to circle your clit.

“All of this is just for me…” He murmurs, pulling away from you chest briefly.

“Yes, just you… no one else.” You gasp in response.

“God fucking damn, that’s right. I’m the only one that gets to touch you like this, isn’t that right?”

You mumble in assent, “Mhmmm that’s right… daddy, only you.”

“Fuck, princess gonna make me bust a nut and we haven’t even started yet.”

Your legs quiver on either side of him as he plunges two fingers into you crooking them against your soft, spongy walls. You can hear his rings clink together and feel them bump against your entrance, the sound met with a wet squelch as your cunt takes all he has to offer.

His thumb moves to press against your clit in clumsy circles, you grab onto his shoulders tightly, there’s a tension mounting, coiling deep in your belly.

“That’s it princess, you gonna cum for daddy? Cum on my fingers for me.”

Something in you snaps and the tension is released all at once, your walls flutter on his fingertips, your release gushing all over them as you moan breathily.

He grins at you proudly as you gasp for breath, “So, another first for you… what’s that now, first joint, first kiss, first orgasm from my fingers… what’s next my tongue or my cock.

“Jesus fucking Christ Eddie…” he gives you a disapproving look and you try again, “please… please, daddy.”

“Please what, sweetheart… use your words.”

“Please… fuck me…” You whine.

“How do you want it?” He asks firmly, “Tongue. Or cock?”

“Wan’ your cock, wan’ you to fuck me hard, show me I’m yours…” You whimper in response, weakly reaching for his boxers.

“You on any kind of birth control, sweetheart?” He asks in earnest.

“Mhhmm… yep I am.”

“Good… that’s good… now you’re sure about this, right?”

“Yes, never wanted anything more in my life… please…”

He ducks down and presses a kiss to your thigh before tugging your panties down your legs. He looks up at you with a little grin, panties hanging off his finger, “Mind if I keep these?”

“You can have whatever you want so long as you make me cum again daddy…”

He groans in response eyes squeezing shut briefly, and he palms at his cock. He drapes your panties over his lunchbox before sliding down his boxers to join his jeans. His thick, weepy length bobs up between his legs, precum bubbling up at the flushed tip. You gasp at the sight, “You’re so… big… can I touch it first?”

“Gonna gimme an ego sweetheart…” he mumbles as he reaches out for your hand guiding it onto his stiff length.

His precum slicks the motions of your hand, he controls the pace, running your hand along his length the way he likes. You devote all your attention to his cock while he watches you appreciatively.

When you swipe your thumb over the head on the upstroke, he growls lowly, “That’s enough now, princess. This time you’re gonna soak my cock with that tight little cunt of yours.” He looks into your eyes, his own dark with lust.

He pulls his jeans and boxers all the way off dropping them over the edge of the bed.

He pushes you back down into the pillows with a hand on your shoulder before moving to sweep your hair out of your face. He grabs your hand, slick and sticky from rubbing his flushed cock and holds it in front of your face, “Look you got your hand all messy. Lick it clean princess.” He orders.

He pushes your own hand to your mouth and you swipe your tongue over your palm before wrapping your lips around your fingers with a low moan. “Such a good girl for daddy.” He hums, you can taste him on your skin you whine as you imagine what it would be like to suck on his fat cock.

He smirks down at you while he grips his shaft at the base, rubbing the head through your glistening folds. Then another image springs to mind, one he’d painted for you, of him fucking your breasts, losing himself completely and cumming all over your face… how high would it splatter, would it get in your mouth, would it taste like this.

He pulls your hand away from your mouth leaning in for a kiss as he forces his tip inside your dribbling entrance. He swallows up all your little whines and gasps as he drops a hand between you to rub at your swollen clit. He sinks into you further and further until he’s buried deeper than you ever thought possible.

“Gonna give it to you hard and fast real soon princess, but we gotta get you a little warmed up for me first…”

He rolls his hips thrusting shallowly as you adjust to the sensation.

“Please… hmmm… fuck, faster please daddy. Feels so… mhnnn… feels so good” You pant out, hips rising to meet his.

“With pleasure sweetheart.” His hands move to grip your hips bruisingly tight. As he increases the pace, you feel his balls slapping against your ass, the room is filled with all sorts of obscene, wet sounds.

You twist your hand into his curls, gazing up at his rosy face, sweat dripping from his brow, eyes blown wide with lust. When you give a little tug on his hair, he lets out a deep, rumbling moan.

He hooks his arms beneath your legs pulling them up over his shoulders sinking into you deeper with this new angle, “You like being filled up, sweetheart? Feel so good when daddy’s deep in you? You gonna let me cum buried inside you?”

“Please… god yes, want it so bad daddy, want you to fill me up with your cum.”

He brings a hand up to your chin, thumb sliding over it ‘til it rests on your bottom lip as you whimper beneath him, he eases his thumb between your lips and you suck on it mindlessly.

“You’re gonna take everything I give you right?”

You nod, mumbling around his thumb in agreement.

“Then open.” He forces your jaw down with his thumb, you look up at him a little confused.

Suddenly he spits in your mouth, ramming his cock into you at the same time, you whimper.

“Now swallow.” He demands and you do so, your saliva mixing with his as it slides down your throat and your walls flex around him of their own accord.

“Oh, you liked that did you?”

“Y-yes daddy.”

“Oh, you’re such a good girl for me. You do like it hard, don’t you? Gonna fuck you so hard you can’t walk.”

“Please… fuck, please gonna cum again.”

“Then cum for me. Squeeze on my dick, lemme feel it. Cum for daddy.”

You wail, chanting “Daddy, daddy, daddy… fuck ‘m cumming.” Your back arches, head thrown back gasping as you clamp down around him, your release running over his cock in rivulets and he continues to pound into you, fucking you through your orgasm.

You fall back limply still spasming around him when he reaches his peak, he growls, “Yeah that’s it princess, you’re gonna take all my fucking cum… take everything daddy gives you.”

He empties his heavy balls deep inside you with a deep, strung-out groan, you can feel his warm seed flood your cunt, drenching your already slick channel.

He collapses on top of you, sweaty bodies pressed together and he tries to nuzzle in even closer.

“God, that was good sweetheart.” He pants in your ear.

“Yeah.” You mumble in agreement running a hand over his back tracing random patterns.

He sighs and you feel his breath against your cheek while his cock softens slowly slipping out of you. You can feel your combined fluids leaking out of your entrance slipping down between your ass to pool on your bed.

Eddie rolls off of you wandering off naked, when he returns, he’s cleaned himself off, approaching you carrying a warm, damp cloth, he runs it over your body soothingly, between your legs cleaning you off.

He stoops down untangling his boxers from his jeans slipping them on as he moves to your wardrobe rifling around til he finds some pyjamas. He helps you into them gently and wraps the covers around you and turns out the lights before slotting himself in behind you. He presses a kiss to your shoulder and wraps his arms around you with a sigh.

You melt into his embrace and he wishes you sweet dreams, you return the sentiment. The pair of you doze off smiling contentedly in your post-orgasm bliss.

Eddie wakes in very early hours of the morning, still happy and content, girl of his dreams wrapped up in his arms. His thoughts turn sour as he lays there, the demons in his head tormenting him…

Jesus Christ what have you done, that was her first time you fucking pig… you told her to call you ‘daddy’ what is wrong with you… fucking freak… shit that’s what everyone’s gonna think the freak and the fatty, both of you together that’ll send them all into a frenzy and her oh, she’ll never hear the end of it, do you really think she deserves that… do you think you deserve to be happy…

And he’s slipping out from under the covers shrouded in his shame, careful not to rouse you he dresses and collects his belongings. He pauses briefly before pocketing your panties, one last little souvenir. Sick pervert. He shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts before taking off into the early dawn.

You wake up a few hours later, sore, mumbling his name, hands searching for his warmth only to come up with nothing. Eyes snapping open you look around in confusion, you find that all of his belongings are gone all evidence that he was even here gone.

He’d be back, for sure he’d be back. Why would he leave…? But he doesn’t come back, doesn’t answer any of your calls. This continues for the rest of the weekend, you convince yourself it’ll be different when you get to school.

Monday rolls around, your stomach twists into knots, did he regret it, wake up next to you with a sudden clarity, no longer horny or high and realise he didn’t actually want someone who looked like you. Or maybe he was just worried what other people would think if he dated someone like you… good enough to fuck, but not good enough to keep around.

You can’t believe that you’d let yourself believe that it could be something more for even a second. Tears sting your eyes and you swipe them away angrily, you huff sulking off into the bathroom, don’t be so fucking dumb, of course he wouldn’t want you just deal with it. You splash cold water over your face and take a few deep breaths to steady yourself.

You end up late for homeroom, only just entering the room as the teacher calls your name. Eddie isn’t sitting in his usual seat, instead he’s sat beside Gareth chatting away about something to do with the band and their show tomorrow night.

He doesn’t look at you as you pass him, you slink off to the last available seats, it’s fine, it’s fine… more tears threaten to slip out but you bite them back.

He avoids you for the rest of the day, you don’t even see him at lunch, but then you pass him on your way out of the cafeteria, you call out to him, “Hey, Eddie there you are I’ve been looking for you all day.”

But he walks right passed you, blank-faced, staring straight passed you. It’s like a knife to your heart, your frozen can’t move, can’t speak, the tears you’ve been fighting all day spill out. Someone bumps into your shoulder and of course it has to be them, “Watch it fatass.”

And there’s giggles as they walk on you can hear them saying to one another, “She was fucking crying did you see her, what a fucking loser… not even the freak wants to be seen with her now.”

That’s the final straw, you don’t even bother collecting your stuff from your locker you just… leave. You walk all the way home blindly, the tears stoped at some point leaving your eyes puffy and stinging, your nails dig into your palms leaving little half-moon impressions.

You let yourself in trudging to your room, stripping off your clothes and pulling on anything that’s nearby before crawling into bed burying yourself beneath the covers.

Your mum wakes you when she gets home, you brush her off telling her you’re not feeling well, trying to pass it off as really bad period cramps. You tell her you might not go in to school tomorrow, she offers to bring you something to eat and a hot water bottle you nod mutely, you don’t really feel like talking much.

You spend the next few days like that in a haze, numb to the world but acutely aware of the stabbing pain in your chest and the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. By the fourth day Nancy stops by to check on you, it’s not like you to miss so many days of school, let alone walk out in the middle of the day.

She enters your room tentatively calling out to you, she sits on the edge of your bed as you groan from your cocoon of blankets.

“You wanna tell me what happened?”

You give a little grunt, she brushes your greasy hair behind your ear gently, “Want a hug?” She offers.

“No, ‘m all gross.” You mumble pulling your self to sit up at the very least, but then the tears flow anew, that’s exactly why he doesn’t want you… fat, ugly, gross, loser… every insult ever hurled at you streams through your brain.

Nancy wraps her arms around you despite your attempts to push her away.

“You know I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong. Your mum said you haven’t been eating properly, won’t come out of your room, i haven’t seen you like this since… well in a really long time.”

You breathe in shakily trying to stem the flow of tears, “I’m a fucking idiot that’s what’s wrong.”

“Hey, hey that’s not true, tell me what actually happened.”

You shake your head pushing away from her, “Can’t.”

“Tough ‘cause I’m not leaving ‘til you do.” She folds her arms over her chest giving you a determined look.

“Well, be prepared to stay a while then.”

“Don’t be stubborn.” She chides.

“You don’t be stubborn.”

“I’m just trying to help.”

“Fine, Ugh fine…”

“Go on I’m listening.”

“He doesn’t want me, doesn’t want anything to do with me now.” You can’t bring yourself to look at her while you speak.

“Who’re you talking about?”

“Eddie.”

“That’s not possible, that guy looks at you like you hung the moon. What happened? Did you tell him how you feel or…”

“No… well yes, but… ok, so he came over Friday night. You know how my parents went away?” She nods as you continue, “So, I asked him what it was like to smoke weed, like we always smoke together when we’re at his place, but never that and he was showing me how to roll a joint and god he looked so hot and I made some dumb joke about wanting it ‘hard and fast’ and he kissed me and told me he had a crush on me and I told him as well… and one thing kinda led to another and we ended up having sex and…” you trail off uncertain of how much detail is too much detail.

“None of that sounds bad so far, where did you get the idea that he doesn’t want you if he’s already slept with you.”

“When I woke up in the morning… after… he was gone, he didn’t answer any of my calls the whole weekend but I thought I’d give him the benefit of the doubt… I dunno, whatever. Anyway then at school on Monday he acted like I didn’t even exist, walked right passed me and they had to see it, had to comment on it.”

You hazard a glance at her and you can practically see the steam billowing out from her ears, “I’m sorry he what?!”

“I just I don’t wanna talk about it anymore, the year’s almost over and just like before he’ll be disappearing from my life again… this time just a little sooner than planned.”

“I’m gonna talk to him.” She says firmly.

“What? No! Nance don’t… please don’t… promise me you won’t.”

“I…” she falters at the look in your eye, “Alright, fine I won’t.”

You shoot her a stern look, “Really, I promise I won’t.” She insist.

“I mean it don’t.” You finish firmly.

“Ok… have you eaten today? What did you have?”

“I did, I had tea and crackers.”

“Is that it? All day that’s all you had?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, it’s not like I’m doing anything today other than wallowing in bed and it’s not as if I’ll starve to death.”

“You know starving yourself is just as bad as overeating, neither of which is going to help you right now. Come on get out of bed go have a shower, I’ll make you something to eat and we can watch a movie… we haven’t had a girl’s night in a while you know.”

You give in to her pestering and it does help to take your mind off things for a bit. She makes you promise that she’ll see you up and about next week.

Nancy doesn’t break her promise at first, not exactly but she does go straight to Steve right after your little ‘girl’s night’.

“You want me to what?”

She rolls her eyes, “Oh, relax it’s not that big a deal just talk to the guy.”

“Why me? If it’s not such a big deal you talk to him.”

“I told you I promised y/n I wouldn’t so I’m not.”

“Still don’t get why it has to be me.” He grumbles.

“What are you scared of him or something?” She teases.

“No! It’s just weird you want me to talk to him about his sex life, c’mon that’s weird.”

“Hey, y/n is your friend too and she’s really hurting right now, just talk to the guy.”

“Why couldn’t it be one of those Hellfire guys instead?”

“Well, I don’t really know them, I know you… but I guess we could talk to them too. Maybe they could help, we can ask Mike where to find them.”

That’s how they find themselves grouped together with a couple of the guys from Hellfire Club, on Eddie Munson’s front porch. Nancy knocks on the front door and Eddie tumbles out to greet them “Wheeler? Harrington? The fuck are you two doing here?”

He spots Gareth and Jeff just behind them, “Emerson… what the fuck is going on?”

Nancy pokes him in the chest angrily, “Inside. Now, Munson.”

He holds up his hands in surrender stumbling backwards inside the trailer.

When everyone is inside, he tries again, “Right, so is anyone gonna fill me in here? What the fuck is going on?”

The boys let her go off on her tirade, her promise to you forgotten amidst her anger, “Don’t play dumb Munson, we’re here about what happened with y/n.”

“Shit… yeah I know I took things too far but tell her it’s ok, I’ll stay away from now on.”

“That is exactly the problem, why are you staying away?”

“Just imagine what people would say about us, the freak and the fatty…”

Gareth speaks up taken aback, “What the fuck man since when do you call her that?”

Eddie sighs “I don’t, it’s just what people would say and she doesn’t deserve that, she doesn’t need people judging her and they would if we were together. Why would anyone want to be seen with the freak nah she doesn’t need that.”

“Since when has that stopped her before, she’s with you all the time?” Jeff counters.

“Yeah, but that’s different it’ll be so much worse for her if we’re dating, this is for her own good, she’d be better off without me all together.” He protests with a tone of finality.

“Shouldn’t you let her decide that for herself? You don’t think you’re hurting her right now… acting like this. Imagine what she’s feeling, what she’s thinking. She’s alone in her room, hasn’t left for days, hasn’t been eating, torturing herself over why you’d do this.” Nancy attempts to reason with him.

Reality comes crashing down around him as he realises what he’s done, “Oh fuck I’m… shit I’m a fucking asshole. I let my own fucking insecurities get to me I didn’t stop to think how she’d feel, how she’d see it… fuck, fuck, fuck.” He paces back and forth tugging on his curls anxiously. His head snaps up, locking on to Nancy, “What do I do… what can I do?”

Steve speaks up for the first time, side-eyeing Nancy as he does so, “You fucking apologise man, take her flowers, beg for her forgiveness… whatever it takes.”

“Right… right.” He mutters to himself before his head pops up again, “You guys uh wanna like leave, or…?”

“Yeah, we’ll go.” Steve replies leading the way out of the trailer.

Nancy lets the other two go first before turning back to Eddie, “You fix this Munson… and I was never here, ok?”

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, “Uhh… yeah ok.”

He stands beneath your bedroom window tossing rocks at it til one connects. You peek your head out at the noise and see him standing there, arms laden with flowers and candy. You don’t quite trust yourself to speak first so you stare down at him expectantly.

He finally breaks the silence, “Can I come in? We gotta talk.”

Your despair solidifies into bitter anger, “Oh, now you wanna talk… fuck off.”

“Please… please just hear me out.” He calls back desperately.

“Why the fuck should I? I gave you so many chances, why now?”

“I’m a fucking idiot, I know that and I’m sorry I’m so so sorry. Please just let me in, let me explain and then I’ll go if you want, I promise.”

“Alright, fine. You better make it quick though… you know the way in. Come up.” You slip back into your room slamming the window shut.

He takes the stairs in leaps and bounds when he gets inside, hesitating outside your bedroom before steeling himself and opening the door.

The second he steps inside it’s like all moisture is wicked away from his mouth he stands there for a moment in silence. You prompt him to begin, “Well? You gonna actually speak or-”

He blurts out, “I love you…”

You roll your eyes, scoffing, “Yeah, sure you fucking do… not falling for that one again.”

He persists, “I’m really, really, really sorry, you have no idea. I uh got these for you.” He thrusts out the flowers and a box of candy in your direction.

You eye them sceptically, snarling, “And what some flowers and chocolates are gonna make me just fall right into bed with you again… ‘daddy’?”

“I never should have… I took things way too far for your first time I am so fucking sorry. I really do love you though.” He says in earnest.

Your voice cracks, “Why did you leave? Why do you always fucking leave me?”

“Because I was a dumb fucking piece of shit too wrapped up in my own insecurities… thinking I don’t deserve you, don’t deserve happiness… worried about what people would think of you if you were dating me, the things they’d say…thought you’d be better off without me.”

“It’s not on you to make decisions like that for me, you ass. The things people would say about me because I’m dating you… fuck that’d just fly right over my head ‘cause I’d be with you. And that shit about you not deserving happiness is just that, absolute shit… of course you deserve happiness. And by doing this you deprived both of us of a chance at happiness.”

“Is… is it too late… can I… can we try again?” He stutters out hopefully.

Your resolve slips, “You really hurt me Munson…”

His face falls, “I know, I’m so sorry… and I will spend the rest of my fucking life making it up to you if… if you’d let me?”

“It… it wasn’t too far you know, umm I actually really liked it… all of it.”

His eyes search your own desperately, “Does that mean…?”

“Yes Eddie, it means we can try again.”

His face lights up and he drops the flowers and the candy onto your bed, he moves towards you but stops suddenly, “Can… can I kiss you?”

You give a small nod and he dives in kissing you slowly, deeply, with purpose. He pulls away and asks breathily, “Can I stay the night?”

“Don’t push your luck.” You warn.

He gasps, “No! Not… not like that… I mean not that I wouldn’t want that, but… I mean, just let me sleep here, that’s it just sleep, cuddle a bit. Then in the morning I’ll show you how it should have gone the first time, like this past week never happened.”

“O-ok, yeah we can do that.”

“Thank you.” He hums pulling you against him, nuzzling into your neck.

And true to his word that is all you do that night, falling asleep wrapped up in one another, peacefully. He wakes you in the morning with a sweet kiss, he says he’d offer to make you breakfast but the best he could do is cereal so he takes you out to the diner instead.

When you tell Nancy what happened she doesn’t seem too surprised, “Good I’m glad the two of you worked that out, I’m happy for you really… but if he ever does anything like that again you tell me straight away. I’ll sort him right out.”

You shoot her a suspicious look, “Nance, did you talk to him?”

“What? No! No, I promised I wouldn’t… it was Steve and a couple of your Hellfire friends I swear.”

“Uh huh and how did they know about it?” You probe.

She folds easily, “Alright fine I talked to him, I’m sorry but-”

“No, it’s fine. Actually, I’m glad you did, thank you.”

“No problem… so, now can we talk about it… what’s he like in the bedroom?”

You gasp mock scandalised, “Nancy Wheeler, how dare you…” you can’t maintain it for long and burst into giggles, “He is gooood I’ll say that much, very generous in every sense of the word.”

She raises a brow, “You mean…” and indicates size with her hands.

You nod “Oh, boy do I, and he knows what to do with it.”

She chuckles at your response, you ask about her, “How’re you and Jonathan?”

“Good, we’re good…”

The two of you chat long into the night, you’re glad of a friend like her, glad she stepped in when she did else who knows how things could’ve gone.

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public-trans-it-deactivated20240 · 5 months

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I'm fascinated by your nuanced astrology takes. Care to share?

Sure! My answer is nuanced in that it doesn't fit into an easy "Astrology is bad/Astrology is good" dichotomy but like... its not that in depth.

Astrology is bad because it is a mechanism resulting in prejudice. Judging people for the circumstances of their birth is, pretty blatantly, NOT A FUCKING GOOD THING TO DO. "Scorpios can't be asexual" is a genuine real take I have seen on this hellsite, for example. This becomes even more apparent when you start comparing the differences between how genders express their supposed astrological personalities differently, and then try to apply that to trans people. Easy way to start a fight, and get a LOT of trans people mad at you.

However, Astrology is a form of divination, and like pretty much all forms of divination it has a very effective place as a tool for self-exploration. Much like Tarot, and pretty much any other form of divination, Astrology is vague enough to apply to everyone, and can be interrupted in multiple different ways such that it can never really be wrong. This is pointed out very very frequently by detractors as evidence that its fake. However, this is a FEATURE not a FLAW. The whole strength of it is that it makes you exercise your brain and look at your life to pick it apart and put a focus on parts you normally wouldn't.

Lets take my daily horoscope from the Washington Post as an example:

This means fuck all. This could be about literally anyone on the planet. But, lets look at it closer. Alright, yeah, I kinda have been leaning towards work too much in a work life balance. My performances is great, I don't have anything to worry about, maybe I SHOULD take a little bit of time to relax today instead of being nose to the grind stone. No real movies I want to watch though. Oh! Ice cream! Right I have that ice cream in the freezer I keep forgetting to finish off, I should do that before I leave for work, sure. And normally I eat my lunch just before my shift starts, and then spend the lunch break either socializing or napping, but I have been leaning a lot more on socializing lately. Maybe getting a nap in this time would be good for me. Right, I also have plans to play some games with a friend on my next day off, but I haven't actually unpacked my switch since I moved, let me make sure I go do that and start charging it so its ready to go when we do.

BAM. Got a solid plan for what I'm going to do today, and also set reminders for myself to do a few things I keep forgetting. That is EXTREMELY useful. As someone with ADHD, getting an alarm going off at the same time every single day to remind me to do something... doesn't actually remind me to that well. I start to tune it out. Something like this provides a tool with which I can look at my life from a different angle, and more easily note the various aspects I am forgetting, and that is a VERY useful tool that should not be taken from anyone, nor should they be judged for using it.

tl;dr version: Applying Astrology to yourself can be a useful tool for exploring your life from an outside perspective, but the second you apply it to someone else you are kind of a piece of shit.

#text essay

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brokenthimbles · 4 months

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SENSES & OTHER SPECIFIC HEADCANONS.

MUSE: Wendy Moira Angela Darling

what does your muse smell like?

Given her profession, Wendy rarely wared any strong perfume or scents as patients can often be allergic. Though on her off days, her favorite scent to wear is Bosca Vanilla Forte by Guerlain. Described as the intensity if a sun-kissed vanilla, wrapped in a driftwood accord.

what do your muse’s hands feel like?

Soft.... as a nurse you'd think her hands would be calloused, but they remain soft. Though dry from the constant washing, and gloves she wears. She has lotion in a few places in her home to try and combat this. Her nightly routine includes massaging her hands and feet with lotion .

what does your muse usually eat in a day?

Wendy normally eats fairly healthy, buttered toast and a protein shake for breakfast, lunch is whatever they serve in the hospital cafeteria (she usually finds some teriyaki something or other, unless she's feeling cheeky and goes for the pizza), and dinner is usually a chicken or roast she made and is slowly making her way through the leftovers..

does your muse have a good singing voice?

Yes, she does. Wendy sings in the shower, hums constantly, but is most likely singing to children when she takes shifts in the children's ward at hospital.

does your muse have any bad habits or nervous tics?

Wendy will mother everyone else, but herself. She'll ensure everyone around her is properly fed and taken care of despite the fact she'll forget to feed herself. She will also be so concerned with making sure that everyone is okay to the point it is self-destructive.

what does your muse usually look like/wear?

Scrubs. Always scrubs, or some athlesiure. Though she does adore the occcasionally dressing up, but you'd be hard pressed to find her in anything expensuve.

**Verse Specific: G's old SAS sweaters, and or shirts are often her go to clothes to relax in. He may be missing a woolen jumper or two from his side of the closet. @dontcxckitup

is your muse affectionate? how much? how so?

Wendy's love language is touch, and quality time. So she will often touch their shoulder, caress their cheek, or simply sit in silence with them in a room while reading books near a fire. Wendy doens't often say the words, but when she loves you? You know.

what position does your muse sleep in?

Usually on the couch with a book fallen to the floor. She often likes to be the little spoon pulling the arm of whomever she is with around her like a protective shield, but despite her small stature she will often try and become that shield herself.

could you hear your muse in the hallway from another room?

No, if you can hear Wendy from another room? Run.

Tagged by: @dontcxckitup-m

Tagging: YOU!

#headcannons

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maharghaideovate · 6 months

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Conquering the Triple Threat: Mastering Work-Life-Study Balance in Your Distance Learning MBA

Earning an MBA while juggling a full-time job and a personal life can feel like a three-ring circus. The flexibility of a distance learning program is a major draw, but it also requires exceptional self-discipline to avoid burnout. Here are some battle-tested strategies to help you emerge victorious from this juggling act and achieve success in all three areas.

Become a Scheduling Superhero:

Many of the best accredited online MBA programs have a asynchronous nature of online learning allows you to create a personalized schedule. But with great power comes great responsibility! Here's how to wield it effectively:

Craft a Master Schedule: Block out dedicated time slots for work, studies, and personal life. Include buffer periods to account for unexpected events. Scheduling apps like Google Calendar or Trello can be your secret weapon here.

Embrace the Power of "Micro-Learning": Break down large study chunks into bite-sized pieces. Utilize your commute, lunch breaks, or even early mornings to tackle short readings, review notes, or participate in online discussions.

Batch Similar Tasks: Group study sessions, work emails, or errands together to minimize context switching and maximize efficiency.

Prioritization: Your Jedi Mind Trick:

Not all tasks are created equal. Learn to differentiate between urgent and important. Can that report wait an hour for you to finish that crucial chapter? Can you politely decline that extra weekend shift if it means missing your friend's birthday party? Mastering the art of "no" is key to maintaining balance.

Communication: Your Bridge Between Worlds:

Transparency is key. Communicate openly with your employer about your academic commitments. Discuss flexible work arrangements or adjusted deadlines if needed. Let your family and friends understand your schedule and solicit their support. A partner who understands your need to carve out dedicated study time on weekends is a partner worth keeping!

Tech Hacks for the Win:

There's a whole arsenal of online tools waiting to supercharge your productivity. Use time-tracking apps to pinpoint areas where you can optimize your schedule. Explore communication platforms like Slack or Zoom to stay connected with classmates and form study groups, even virtually. Cloud storage services like Google Drive ensure your assignments are accessible anytime, anywhere. Think of these tools as your personal productivity toolkit for your distance learning MBA.

Don't Forget Yourself:

Taking care of yourself is not a luxury – it's a necessity. Aim for a healthy sleep schedule, eat nutritious meals, and squeeze in regular exercise. Even a quick walk or a yoga session can work wonders. Schedule downtime for activities you enjoy, whether it's catching up with friends, playing video games, or simply relaxing with a good book. A well-rested and rejuvenated you will be a more efficient student, employee, and friend.

Bonus Tip: Find Your Tribe:

Learning doesn't have to be a solo mission. Many distance MBA colleges offer virtual student forums or social media groups. Connect with classmates, share experiences, and offer support. Having a network of people going through the same journey can be a huge motivator. Imagine a bunch of friends cheering you on as you conquer that challenging finance course! Won’t that be great ?

Remember, achieving work-life-study balance is a continuous process. Don't get discouraged by occasional setbacks. By implementing these strategies and staying focused, you'll develop the skills and resilience needed to navigate your MBA journey and emerge a successful graduate, ready to take your career to the next level!

#distance mba colleges #distance learning mba #best accredited online mba programs

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gennie123 · 2 years

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10 Easiest New Year 2023 Resolution Ideas for a Happier and Healthier Life

As the new year approaches, many of us take the opportunity to reflect on the past and set goals for the future. Whether you're looking to improve your health, career, relationships, or overall well-being, New Year's resolutions can be a powerful way to make positive changes in your life.

However, it's important to set realistic and achievable goals that won't overwhelm you or set you up for failure. If you're looking for some easy and stress-free resolution ideas for 2023, this blog has you covered. We've compiled a list of 10 simple and achievable resolution ideas that can help you lead a happier and healthier life in the new year.

From maintaining regular mealtimes and shifting to organic food products, to bringing more peace into your life and saying yes to exercise, there are plenty of ways to make a difference in your well-being. So, whether you're a seasoned resolution-setter or just starting out, these ideas can help you make progress towards your goals and improve your overall well-being in 2023. Here are 10 easy new year resolution ideas for 2023:

1. Maintain regular mealtimes:

Eating at regular intervals can help regulate your metabolism, improve your energy levels, and reduce cravings for unhealthy foods. If you tend to skip meals or eat at irregular times, make a resolution to eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner at the same times each day, and try to incorporate healthy snacks in between meals as well.

Eating regular meals can also help you make healthier food choices, as you're less likely to grab unhealthy snacks when you're hungry. If you're short on time, consider meal prepping in advance or keeping healthy, portable snacks on hand.

2. Shift to organic food products:

Choosing organic produce and other products can help reduce your exposure to pesticides and other harmful chemicals and support sustainable agriculture practices. While organic food products can be more expensive, there are ways to incorporate them into your diet without breaking the bank. Start small by choosing a few key organic items, such as produce that has a thin skin or is more likely to be contaminated by pesticides (e.g. apples, berries, leafy greens). You can also look for sales or shop at farmers markets or local co-ops, which may offer more affordable options.

In addition to produce, consider switching to organic dairy, meat, and grains, as well as household and personal care products. While it's not always possible to go completely organic, even making small changes can make a difference for your health and the environment.

3. Switch to music from the TV:

Listening to music can have a calming effect and help reduce stress and anxiety. If you find yourself mindlessly flipping through channels or scrolling through social media, make a resolution to replace some of your TV time with music listening. Not only will it help you relax, but it can also be a creative outlet and a way to discover new artists or genres.

There are many ways to listen to music, including through streaming services, podcasts, or by simply creating a playlist on your phone or computer. You can also consider investing in a portable speaker or headphones to make it easier to enjoy music on the go.

4. Bring more peace into your life:

Taking time to relax and unwind is important for overall well-being, but it can be difficult to find moments of peace and quiet in our busy lives. Make a resolution to prioritize self-care and find ways to incorporate more relaxation into your daily routine. This could be through activities like meditation, yoga, or simply taking a few deep breaths when you're feeling overwhelmed. Make sure you also include 7-8 hrs of sound sleep every night which makes you feel fresh throughout the day with positive thoughts.

You can also create a peaceful environment at home by decluttering, adding plants or other natural elements, and incorporating calming scents like lavender or peppermint. Don't forget to unplug from technology and make time for activities that bring more peace into your life.

5. Enjoy the small things in life:

It's easy to get caught up in the hustle and bustle of daily life and forget to appreciate the small pleasures. Make a resolution to take time to appreciate the simple things, like a beautiful sunset, a warm cup of tea, or a good book. These small moments of joy can help bring more happiness and contentment into your life.

You can also make a habit of practicing gratitude by keeping a gratitude journal or sharing things you're thankful for with loved ones. This can help shift your focus to the positive aspects of your life and improve your overall outlook.

6. Plan to go for a short adventure:

Whether it's a day trip to a nearby town or a weekend getaway to a nearby state, make a resolution to plan a small adventure to break up the monotony of daily life and bring some excitement into your routine. This can be a great opportunity to try new activities, explore new places, and create lasting memories.

If you're on a tight budget, don't worry – there are plenty of affordable options for mini-adventures. Consider camping or staying at a budget-friendly hotel, or look for discounts on local attractions or activities. Using the best quality of travel bags and accessories adds a bit of comfort and safety to your adventurous trip.

7. Follow a daily skin care routine at home:

Taking care of your skin can help you look and feel your best. Make a resolution to establish a simple, daily skin care routine to nourish and protect your skin. This can include cleansing, toning, and moisturizing, as well as using sunscreen and removing makeup before bed.

You don't need to spend a lot of money on expensive products – there are plenty of affordable options for daily skin care routine that can be just as effective. Consider looking for natural, plant-based products that are gentle on the skin, and don't be afraid to experiment with different products to find what works best for you.

8. Be more grateful:

Focusing on the things you're grateful for can improve your mood and help you feel more positive and content. Make a resolution to express gratitude on a daily basis, whether it's through a gratitude journal or simply taking a moment to appreciate the good things in your life.

Gratitude can be a powerful tool for improving mental health and relationships, and it's something that anyone can practice. Take a few minutes each day to reflect on the things you're thankful for, and make a conscious effort to express gratitude to others as well.

9. Prefer simple and elegant outfits:

Simplifying your wardrobe with comfortable and simple clothes can save time and money and make you feel more confident and put-together. Make a resolution to choose classic, elegant pieces that you can mix and match for a variety of looks, and say goodbye to fast fashion.

Consider investing in quality pieces that will last longer and can be worn in multiple ways, rather than constantly buying cheap, trend-based items that will fall apart or go out of style quickly. You can also try adopting a capsule wardrobe, which involves choosing a small number of versatile pieces that can be mixed and matched to create a variety of looks.

Not only will simplifying your wardrobe save you time and money, but it can also be more sustainable and environmentally friendly. By choosing timeless pieces and wearing them more often, you can reduce the amount of clothing you need to buy and dispose of over time. Sometimes it may seem boring but wearing comfortable and simple clothes keeps you at ease.

10. Say yes to exercise:

Regular exercise has numerous physical and mental health benefits, including reducing stress and improving mood. Make a resolution to incorporate some form of physical activity into your daily routine, whether it's a morning walk, a yoga class, or a trip to the gym.

Exercise doesn't have to be intense or time-consuming to be effective – even a moderate amount of activity can have significant benefits. Find an activity that you enjoy and that fits into your schedule, and don't be afraid to mix things up to keep things interesting. Also focus on nutrition as by adding dietary supplements in your routine helps you live a happy and healthy life.

By setting easy and achievable resolutions, you can make meaningful progress towards your goals and improve your overall well-being in the new year. Remember to be kind to yourself and don't get too caught up in the idea of perfection – progress, not perfection, is the key to lasting change.

If you're ready to make positive changes in the new year and lead a happier and healthier life, consider adopting one or more of these 10 easy resolution ideas for 2023. Whether you're looking to maintain regular mealtimes, shift to organic food products, bring more peace into your life, or say yes to exercise, there are plenty of simple and achievable ways to make a difference.

So why wait? Start making your resolution list today, and take the first step towards a better you in the new year. Remember to be kind to yourself, set realistic goals, and celebrate your progress along the way. With a little bit of planning and commitment, you can make 2023 your best year yet.

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hansensgirl · 2 years

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☾ 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ☾

summary. | no matter what—he’s been there for you. at your pretty, at your ugly, and always at your vulnerable.

warnings. | dark themes, drugging (chloroform-ish but something stronger), obsession, stalking, kidnapping (the act), steve has a saviour complex, stockholm syndrome*, manipulation, breaking and entering, taking advantage, angst, fear of sexual assault, mental health issues, mentions of an accident (up to your interpretation), crying, self-isolation, introversion, insecurity, hurt/comfort, reader daydreams, pet names (doll, baby, sweetie), and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

pairing. | soft dark!stalker!Steve Rogers x fem!reader.

word count. | 3.4k

author’s note. | just a little bit of burnt sugar bc why not! un-beta’d, all mistakes are mine. the reader is quite literally Me… *steve’s care for the reader causes her to not have bad feelings towards him. it’s why she doesn’t fight him that much. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY!

my taglist. @hansensfics. <- please follow!

When you wake up, you’re not covered in sweat like you were when you fell asleep. The fan was oscillating, and the room was far too sticky for you to keep it directed at your bed.

It’s hard to collect your thoughts when you’re already starting your mindless routine. Brush your teeth. Get your things ready. Shower. Eat. Waste your time. Grab your readied things. Stare at the fan?

The setting is different. Switched from turning left and right to pointing where you always lay.

You can’t dwell on it for too long, so you trust you’ll forget it and rush out the door before you’re late for work.

The shop doesn’t open until nine o’clock, but by your standards, you’re late. It’s just twenty minutes and some change past eight, and you pin your name tag just before the first order shows up on the primary device.

Your job is nice—better than what it used to be. Customers’ decisions are set in stone, and you don’t have to persuade them to buy anything else or sign up for an email subscription. You do what the app and instructions tell you. Nothing more, nothing less.

Receipts are stapled outside the brown paper bags, placement forever the same. The patterns are always a variation. Old ones from the holiday season or the minimalist logo that doesn’t go well with the tan material. You hand them to the delivery drivers, who go on with their days, driving to and from wherever the app demands them.

Lunch is forty-five minutes that go faster than anything else. You eat quicker than your supervisor yet linger longer than the youthful man. He’s much too sluggish for his young age. But hey, it’s a new time and another spoiled brat who’ll always be above you.

You scroll mindlessly through social media, liking and bookmarking videos and photos you’d like to admire in the future. Dogs that put smiles on your face and resources that you’ll start swearing by.

The notification comes without a sound. Your phone company loves to send promotion codes with conditions and contingencies. Your mother loves to spam you until you tell her how you’re feeling or when her package will arrive. You’ve long had your phone on silent, yet the lack of alerts has you feeling lonely.

The phone number is different—unknown, of course. It’s not one or two digits off your own to claim it’s a scammer. It’s not a wildly suspicious email address from a swindler. But it has your area code and the same prefix as you.

It’s a picture. Your neighbour’s flowers that you admired from your bedroom window. You’re not sure the elderly woman has a cellphone, let alone your number. You still text back, though, wanting to make her day—make her smile.

Beautiful flowers.

She replies sooner than expected.

Do you like them?

Of course. Who wouldn’t?

You’re left on delivered for the rest of your shift.

The hours go by in a blur. Every day is distinct, yet it all turns into the same colour. You bid goodbye to your boss and try to leave, but he’s pulling you back with a hard hand on your elbow. He’s red all over. The ears, the eyes, the lips, the hair, the skin. You yank your arm away as quickly as possible, banging it on the green-coloured wood.

An annoying feeling strikes up the hurt limb. “I need you to take off for the next few days,” he tells you, and you’re confused. The request of staying late and spending more time in the dreaded place was on the tip of his tongue—you swear it. “Why?”

His mother has never asked something like this of you, but her eyes are gentler than his, and she’s lived quite the life.“My girlfriend’s sister needs a job, so she wants to test the waters here, y’know? You’ll still get paid, don’t worry. Just stay at home. Don’t come here.”

If you know any better, you’d think you’re getting kicked out. Ousted, as these rich people love their fancy words and lowly intentions. And since you know better, you’re sure you’ll find a horrid sight that neither you nor his girlfriend will enjoy seeing if you come tomorrow.

The walk home is quick. You keep your head bent down and curse yourself for forgetting your earbuds. Men in suits and women with briefcases move slower than you, but you just can’t wait to deadbolt your door. You’ve got priorities bigger than their egos.

Like a sore thumb, the vibrant flowers stick out at your doorstep. Your home is nice, nicer than the price led on. Well, not quite. Up for two million, then one million, then nine-hundred ninety-nine thousand, then a shocking six-hundred thousand.

You look around. It’s a developing community with barely any neighbours. The lady lives down the road, and you stare at her house for a good amount of seconds. Her once pretty plants are now green—ripped of colour, and the flowers are in this basket.

It could harbour more romantic, expensive things. Champagne for a celebration or a tennis bracelet that costs a limb. But nature is pricey. All the time, all the energy, all the things necessary—they amount to an expense that your house wishes it could have.

In the basket is a widely contrasting piece of paper.

Sweetheart,

If I had known you like these flowers, I would’ve gotten them for you sooner. But I should've figured that out myself. Pretty girl loving pretty things… You’re so perfect, baby. You can admire them on your day off. They’ll wither, but you can enjoy it while it lasts. Until I’m with you.

Love,

Steve.

The handwriting is neat yet a bit messy. Traditional print that you’d switch to when cursive takes too much time. You’re not sure what to think of the note. It doesn’t invoke nausea, but it plants a seed of worry in the pit of your stomach. Maybe you have a new neighbour, and most definitely not a secret admirer.

True to the letter, the flowers wither on your third day off. Each day you email your supervisor, asking if it’s time to return. He only responds a few hours later, his tone curt and unfriendly even through a screen. He’s different from his mother and deceiving of the business’ motto.

It’s upsetting to throw them out, but the once-velvety petals are brown and crumpled. The leaves are as dismal as your room. You haven’t changed formats from your previous home, scared that your peace will ultimately be disturbed.

But some days you find your belongings… different.

The business card you like to keep is facing down when it should be up. The perfume bottle has been turned, no longer showcasing the limited-time-only label. Maybe you have quick hands, or perhaps your fan is just stronger than it should be.

You search for your socks underneath your bed when your phone lights up. You’re quick to look at it, reading the notification with excitement.

You took good care of the flowers.

You knew they were going to die.

It’s the unsaved number again. You’ve come to realise that the old woman is very much technology inept and lives with a caretaker. She’s more sociable than you, though. She goes on walks and talks to the birds and shoos away the bees.

Can I ask you a question?

You close the app quickly as soon as you hit send, worried you’ve already made a mistake. Is there a limit for those? You’d like to think so. You’d also like to believe this is the last one, but it never is.

Of course, doll.

Who are you?

Whoever it is doesn’t reply for a few hours. You’re a nervous wreck from four in the afternoon to nine at night.

Steve.

There once was a fire here. In this very neighbourhood, down a few houses, there was a fire. You remember seeing it on the news, yet you still passive-aggressively watch the video that a bystander took.

Half-built houses aflame, you’re a poet when you call it a young couple’s relationship once they get engaged. The wood falls into the hot pit. You’re fantastical when you pretend a phoenix can rise from those ashes.

Neighbouring homes are engulfed with orange. Smoke billowing, swirling in the sky, and you wonder how it would look if the wind blew.

You remember that day. It was humid and sticky—you could barely breathe in the confines of your own room.

The reason why you continuously watch this horrid, horrid video isn’t entirely unknown. You think that you need to remind yourself that bad things can happen. You’re too stuck in those sweet mental stories and forget that life isn’t as lovely as you’d like it to be.

But honestly, you won’t let yourself live for a good thing. Or maybe it’s because you want to see a fault you aren’t responsible for.

Months have passed, but you can’t entirely use your paint brushes the same way. Your shaky hands won’t let you trace properly, and your colours end up a mess before they find a home on your canvas.

Fires are pretty, but that one wasn’t. No. The sky didn’t turn into an amber colour, and it was too explicit for you to be ignorant. You used to create pretty things like how flames used to be charming. But ever since that day, you’re unable to make a nice thing.

When you wake up, your throat is dry. Your mouth feels like cotton, soaking up any amount of moisture there is. You haven’t had this feeling for a while. The five minutes you always plan to use for stretching and recalling your dreams are kissed goodbye when you remember you drank all the water in your bottle.

You roll over and slowly get up, disoriented and colder than you were under the blankets. Feet balance on the floor, and you swing them when the inner child in you takes over. A wet, frosty thing touches the side of your left foot, and you jump.

Looking down, you see your water bottle filled up. Nearly untouched, save for the cleared spot that disrupts the thin layer of condensation. You rack your brain wondering if you’re smart enough to do something thoughtful for future you.

You slept too well last night, unable to get out of bed even when you swear you heard something drop. Cowardice belonging to you comes back and bites you in the ass—teeth sharp and wound fresh.

You take a second to soothe yourself before scanning the room, finding little things different.

Your phone, set on the floor to charge, is at a different outlet and sitting on a higher level. Your purse is on your dresser, and your book is no longer sitting face first, split in half to mark the page. There’s been an intruder who cares more for you than you do.

Another day off, but now you sit in confusion and worry rather than a mix of boredom and self-loathing. When you near your phone, the screen lights up with a notification. The timing is ‘now,’ and the contact is ‘Steve.’ You didn’t do that—the intruder did.

Good morning, doll! How’d you sleep? You were out like a light, weren’t you?

I’m so glad you got some rest. You work really hard. You deserve it.

Drink some water for me, please. You’re doing so well already with your hydration.

You’ve never met a Steve in your life, nor have you ever heard of one. You wish you could say it’s a wrong number, but when the picture he sent loads in, there’s no way you can live a lie.

A man—pale skin that shines through the darkness. He wears a cap without a logo, and the colour matches the night sky. He presses a kiss to your forehead, and you’re unbeknownst to it all. There’s been an intruder in your home, and he kissed you and took a picture, yet your stomach doesn’t drop.

The shock is numbing—you think you’re sick but not in a nauseating way. A way in which you’re not exactly right, and you’re the outcast—a way where you’re not bothered by this creepy thing because it’s not the worst thing that’s happened.

When you brush your teeth, the gravity of the situation hits you, pulling you down onto the ground. The mintiness of your toothpaste burns and your lips are covered in pastel froth. You do whatever nervous tick you have and try to convince yourself that you’re safe—you’ve been spared.

You’ve blocked the number and put a knife under your pillow. The water has been dumped, and you can’t stomach anything other than a simple, bland breakfast. Now, you can’t wait to go to work and maybe even spend more time outside your house.

If you’re not working, you’re away from your residence. You take walks with slow steps and visit places on the least busy days. You go far away from your address and only return when your body tells you to. And you’ve kept your phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’ mode, worried about facing the loud music that is this ‘Steve.’

However, he hasn’t relented. Your house is sparkly clean when you come home from the museum one day. It smells of your favoured candle, and the windows are free of fingerprints. Hell, your laundry was done for you. Your favourite detergent and softener were used.

After a trip to the grocery store and a detour to the bank, you opened your fridge and cabinets to find the food you had picked up and put back down. Things that were too expensive or simply piqued your interest until you danced with the possibility of disliking them.

He works contrary to the phantom of the opera—when the victim isn’t looking. You contemplated filing a police report, but it’d be useless. You’d sound stupid anyway, you know it.

Can you arrest the guy who looks out for me? Who takes care of me? Who is there for me more than anyone else? His name is Steve, and he buys food for me and gives me money, and he treats me like his lover.

You once believed you were a lost cause, and you still do. You go from trying to force Steve out of your life—to letting him come and go whenever he likes—to convincing him it’s not worth it.

Sighing, you pick at your croissant. It’s good, a little too good. You’re starved, but you want to savour this delicious treat. Today is a beautiful day. The wind blows gently, and the sun is kinder than it was about a week ago.

You walk around the pond where the bright blue sky is reflected. There are no swans nor lilypads, just water. One or two elderly people sit on the distanced benches, and a little kid throws a frisbee for the family dog. A golden retriever who is happy, jumping about and barking affectionately.

A tree gated by flimsy metal is your designated spot. You stand next to it and hope that by next year, it’ll be large enough to shade a family of four or more. The water ripples when the breeze comes, gently shifting before returning back to its still state.

You think deeply about Steve. He often leaves drawings behind. Sometimes, they’re of you. Other times, they’re self-portraits. From what you’ve gathered (before you crumple up the papers and throw them out), he’s as handsome as he is kind.

But that doesn’t excuse how he’s let himself into your life and won’t leave.

The last bit of your croissant is shovelled into your mouth, and you crinkle the bag it came in. Though, you should’ve folded it nicely instead. You let out a sigh that’s riddled with frustration.

Looking on, you watch as the dog catches the orange frisbee in its mouth before handing it back to the little kid.

You should get home now.

The place is too quiet. It’s eerie.

There are boxes in the kitchen—ones you didn’t pack. Labels for where they belong and the warning of fragile objects are written on the brown cardboard. You recognize the handwriting.

Things have disappeared. Your house is more of a hotel now.

“You went far today, doll. Did you enjoy your croissant? Y’know, I’m not that good at baking, but I’m sure I can master that one,” a low voice says, and you jump. Behind you is the intruder who’s taken such good care of you. Too good. “Butter, right?”

“Y– Yeah. What are you doing, Steve?” you question, your tone full of confusion and a tad bit of anger. “Packing. Don’t worry, I took pictures of everything so we can set it up the same. I did make a pile of stuff you might not want to bring with us, though…” Steve explains, adjusting his cap and pointing his foot at an arrangement of some of your items.

“Go where? Steve, I live here. You don’t. If anyone is leaving, it’s you,” you tell him, stepping back to keep space. “Go home, doll. We’re going home! And if I’m leaving, it’s going to be with you. Don’t be difficult, sweetie. Just come tell me what you what to keep, and I’ll put it in a box,” he sighs, bending down to pick up a tube of sunscreen you accidentally purchased two of.

“Let’s get rid of the one you used the most,” Steve says, not even letting you decide. “What about this o— Doll, what’s wrong? Did something happen? Did anyone hurt you? I swear to fucking god, if anyone hurt you, I’ll hurt them back.”

His jaw clenches and unclenches as he works himself up at the thought. Why does he care? Who is he for you?

“Steve, please. I don’t know you—you don’t know me. Just leave. I won’t call the cops or tell anyone. …They wouldn’t believe me, anyway… Let’s just forget about this and live our own lives without each other,” you propose, gesturing towards the door you walked through only a few minutes ago.

Did he come while you were gone? Or was he here all along?

“I can’t leave you, doll. Especially not by yourself. You need me, baby–”

“—I don’t need you–”

“Yes, you do.”

Steve’s voice booms, his eyes as sad as a kicked puppy’s. Sighing, he looks down and curses under his breath. “I don’t like getting strict with you, doll. But you need to listen to me, okay? I’m here for you—I always have been. When no one else was. Just let me do what I need to do.”

You’re dumbfounded. A man twice your size and far more stubborn won’t leave. There’s nothing you can do.

He shuffles around a little more, and you squeeze your eyes shut. Maybe it’s a dream. Maybe this isn’t real. Maybe you’re pretending to be the badass hero once more, and you’ve got your music blaring louder than necessary.

Steve looks up at you and watches intensely. You so desperately want to be alone as usual. In your mind, you think he shouldn’t be here—that he doesn’t belong within your four walls that soaked up your sobs for it all to just stop for once.

You pretend he’s set fire to your life—destroying it, and this time there are no underpaid workers to build it back up, so you’re left as a heap of ashes. Unsaveable, only admirable by those who watch the videos recorded by bystanders.

Yeah, right.

No matter what—he’s been there for you. At your pretty, at your ugly, and always at your vulnerable. You are your own antagonist—the dark reflection in the mirror that you never seem to notice. Steve is here to save you because he knows you need his help.

So he’s not really upset he has to knock you out. In his hand and against your face is a chemical-soaked cloth that smells horrid (Steve is terribly sorry for that).

He’s not really sad that he has to take you away from your house and put you in a home—his home. The boxes are heavy and littered everywhere (you don’t have to do any work. Steve will take care of it all).

Steve doesn’t really mind that he has to take further measures and put a tracker on you. You forced his hand—he has to keep you safe.

He does it all because he cares. Because he’s tired of lurking in the shadows.

#chris evans #steve rogers #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve x you #chris evans x reader

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midnightmarius · 3 years

Text

warnings: 18+ minors dni, f!reader, oral sex and also kitchen sex with osamu hehe

osamu prides himself on his self-control. running a business means he’s constantly keeping himself in check when dealing with employees and customers alike, keeping calm and composed in the face of any situation.

so, it’s very unfortunate to him that his own body has betrayed him like this so early in the morning.

groaning, he swats blindy at the phone on his nightstand until he successfully hits snooze, rolling over to press himself against you.

(which also presses his very unfortunate erection against your ass.)

“honey,” he whines, pressing soft kisses to the back of your neck, hands gripping your waist tightly. “ya gotta get up and help me with this.”

you just murmur sleepily, a quiet moan slipping past osamu’s lips when you shift a little, unintentionally nudging your ass back against him.

“can’t,” you mumble, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you turn to face him, wiggling out of his hold and scooting to the edge of the bed. “we’ve gotta get the twins ready to take to your mother’s.”

he pouts when you lean over to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth before hauling yourself out of bed. “but–”

sighing, you lift the hem of the shirt you’d stolen from him over your head to get changed, revealing bare skin that somehow manages to send more blood straight down to his dick. “we can't be late, samu.”

“just a quickie?” he pleads. “i’ll be fast–”

“last time you said that, i ended up pregnant with twins. do you want more children to feed?” when he opens his mouth, you hold a hand up to stop him. “actually– don’t answer that. just take care of yourself in the shower because we just changed the sheets.”

osamu grumpily does as you say, stepping into a cold shower and jerking himself pitifully to the memory of last night’s activities. the way you’d ridden him, the sound of your moans, the way you’d jerked against him whenever he’d tweaked your nipples or thumbed your clit.

by the time he gets out of the shower, you’re already changed into your work clothes, one child balanced on your hip as you make breakfast one-handed as the other twin plays around with cheerios in her high chair.

“don’t forget you’re doing pick-up today,” you tell him, grabbing his jaw to press a kiss to his cheek as you transfer the toddler into his arms. osamu drops a kiss onto her little nose, grinning when she giggles. “what do you want for dinner? i was going to run to the store after work.”

“i can just bring something home from the restaurant,” he suggests, eager to lighten your load (and gain a few brownie points in the process). “i was gonna make some extra for tsumu anyway.”

“oh, lucky us,” you coo to your other daughter, picking up a cheerio and pressing it into her hand. “daddy’s going treat us to his yummy food tonight! you like onigiri, baby?”

she just babbles a little cheer, which the twin in osamu’s arms mimics excitedly at the prospect of food. yup. definitely his kids.

(and he really wouldn’t mind making more)

—

his plan was simple, really, because one doesn’t have to be a genius to impress their wife. they just have to be a good husband.

and osamu likes to think that he is.

which is why he comes home with not just some food from the restaurant, but a nice bottle of wine, and a cute little potted plant for the kitchen windowsill as well.

yet when he proudly sets those things on the counter next to where you’re prepping tomorrow’s lunches, you only notice one thing.

“it seems you’ve forgotten something,” you tell him as he tosses his cap aside, shaking out his hair a little. he then simply wraps his arms around you, trailing slow kisses up the column of your neck.

“i don’t think so,” he breathes, hands already skimming down your waist and the curve of your hips. “got everything i need right here.”

“osamu…” you groan, but you’re pushing your hips back against him ever so slightly. “where are our children?”

he presses one last kiss to that little spot behind your ear. “they’re staying overnight with tsumu.”

your eyes fly open as you twist in his hold, the moment he’d been working towards shattering at his admission. “you left our children with atsumu?”

“ma was busy!”

“you couldn’t have asked kiyoomi? or even driven down to the countryside to shinsuke?”

“atsumu’s not that bad at babysitting!” he lies, simply holding you tighter as you try to escape his grasp.

“he always lets them stay up past their bedtime, and i’m pretty sure he can’t even tell them apart!” you argue, slapping at his shoulder.

“they’re identical twins, sometimes i can’t even tell them apart.”

“you can’t tell your own children apart?!”

osamu’s…really not doing himself any favours right now, so he loosens his hold to give you a little wiggle room, letting you return to your lunch prep and laughing when you huff at him. he’d tried to take it slow, tried to seduce you with wine and a cute little plant and some kisses, but sometimes…the direct approach is the best one.

especially when you’re like this, all huffy and doubting his brother’s childcare capabilities. “you better call atsumu and tell him you’re coming to pick up the girls. i bet he’s feeding them mochi for dinner right now–”

your voice wavers when he lets his hand skim lightly down your sides, fingertips digging into your hips as he pulls you close once more.

“honey, just relax. the girls will be fine for a night,” he assures you, sweeping your hair aside to press another kiss to the back of your neck. “we’ve got the house to ourselves tonight, so…”

osamu grins against your skin, slipping his free hand beneath the waistband of your shorts as pushing aside the lace of your underwear to rub slow, practiced circles over your clit. you fumble with the lid in your hands when he quickens his pace, groaning as you grip the edge of the counter.

“samu,” you gasp, leaning back against his chest. “wait, at least let me put away the food–”

“no,” he interrupts, momentarily dipping a finger into your wet slit to spread your slick. “i wanna eat somethin’ else.”

bento boxes are pushed to the side as osamu spins you around, yanking your shorts and dampened underwear down your legs before hoisting you up onto the counter. it’s instinct now, the way his hand cups the back of your head to pull you into a deep kiss, and the way your legs hook around his waist to force his body closer to yours. he lets you melt into him, parting your lips and letting him muffle any banter you’d had prepared.

his hands are quick to pry your thighs apart, pressing a final kiss to your lips before kneeling between your legs and immediately licking a long broad stripe up your center.

your thighs twitch around his head when the tip of his tongue meets your clit, osamu pulling back an inch when you stifle a moan with the back of your hand.

“hey, none of that. i wanna hear ya, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pulling a sharp gasp from your lips as he plunges two fingers into you. his mouth follows, wrapping around your clit and huffing a laugh when your body shakes in a full body shudder.

“oh, fuck,” you breathe, hands fisting tightly at the soft material of his t-shirt. the rough drive of his fingers mixing deliciously with the insistent sweeps of his tongue. “osamu–”

“hmm?” he hums, the vibrations making your toes curl. you whine when he pulls his fingers out, his lidded-gaze meeting yours as he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean before hooking his hands under your thighs to pull you to the edge of the counter.

then he’s nudging his hips between your legs, pants already unzipped and underwear shoved down to press his thick length against you. he pushes into you in one go, your body putting up little resistance as a result of his earlier actions. he lets you cling to him as you adjust to the sudden stretch, snaking a hand between your bodies to press his thumb to your clit. your body jolts in response, osamu groaning loudly as your walls clench around him.

he feels your nails dig into his skin as he begins steadily rocking his hips into yours. his thrusts are rough, fast, a result of the tension that’d been building since you’d left him in such a pitiful state this morning. he crushes his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, swallowing your moans as his hips slam against yours with abandon.

it’s not long until you’re crying out, the pleasure that’d he knew had been coiling in your gut since he’d slid his hand down the front of your shorts crashing into you.

but your hand grips his hair, pulling him back in for more even as your body jerks with sensitivity, begging him for more.

just like he’d planned.

#osamu x reader #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu smut #hq smut #haikyuu smut #hq x reader #haikyuu!!

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fortifice · 5 months

Note

the next time gepard opens his instrument case of a weapon, he'll see a small, vacuum-sealed pouch of food. upon closer inspection, it's a series of sealed pouches; staples of a healthy diet, and exactly one homemade chocolate brownie. it's all things that preserve decently well for a week or so, packed in a concise and convenient manner, separated to avoid any flavor profiles being ruined. attached to it is a rolled up piece of paper, tied up with string. when unfurled, the little scroll reads; " since i don't want to hear about serval get on your case about skipping meals on patrol again, i thought i'd sneak this in during your most recent visit. i hope it lasts long enough for you to read this. — lynx. p.s.: this was the last brownie ! you'd better be thankful ! " accompanying the note is a little sketched self-portrait of lynx's head, complete with her signature hat. ( from lynx. <3 )

Gepard wasn’t intentionally negligent it was just when it came to matters of the self juxtaposed with work and duty his propensity to favor one over the other became rather evident. He was trying to improve, the last admonition from Serval had taken a toll on him, rather than forgo his breakfast in order to arrive before punctuality necessitated it he was greeting the unfurling sunrise with rations stowed away in his pack. He did not intend to make his sister’s worry more than necessary, the guard’s line of work was already pervaded with danger, if reassurance could come from him dedicating a little more time to himself and less to work then he felt it was a compromise he could acquiesce to. As dawn patrol wanes into afternoon and the guards exchange patrol routes he’s afforded the opportunity for a moment of respite and takes it. Around the fire gloved hands are warmed and the often debilitating cold is eased from their bones, raucous laughter and conversing between men who really did deserve a break rises above the keening winds. He wasn’t the only one, he thinks, who dedicated all of himself to this profession, his comrades were just as assiduous. While unpacking his usual lunch, nourishment favored over anything else, his hand brushes against the vacuum sealed pouch, certain he had packed only a protein bar he retrieves it, inspecting it. It was so diligently organized, someone had assigned time and effort to it, ascertaining that no one food breached into another, that all the flavors were preserved, it hallmarked it as being arranged by someone well versed in lasting out in the snow plains for extended periods of time. His expression softened, rimy gaze catching on the scroll, the string meticulously tied in a neat bow, it takes him a moment to work it free, the cold still biting and raw at his fingertips. when it unfolds his eyes trace familiar penmanship, a concise and almost reprimanding note that holds within it a tone indicative of lynx. Gloved fingers cradled the note gingerly, taking in her endeavor to see that her brother was eating more than just stale tasting preserved food. His smile is both furtive and fond, something afforded only to his siblings who had a penchant for caring for him more than he did himself, even if they had their own unique ways of going about it. The brownie in particular catches his interest, it was not known by many but Gepard had a fondness for sweets, a childhood predilection he had yet to rid himself from even in adulthood. If one looked a little closer than the outward front of Captain Landau, often reticent or austere, they would see how much more content he was biting down into the soft, sweetness of the brownie. this was the last brownie ! you’d better be thankful ! his little sister’s commanding lilt echoed in the back of his mind as carefully tucked the note back into his case. “ I am thankful Lynx, I won’t forget to tell you that.” which meant after his shift ended he would trudge through the deep snow and find his sister’s current campsite with hot chocolate in tow, making certain it was the way that she preferred it. for now he’s going to take another mouthful of brownie and relish how much better it tastes than his rations.

#every single day i think abt how gepard has a sweet tooth and it sends me to the moon.#he's just sitting there having a happy munch.#。 ‧͙*̩̩❆ ✧ in character ‚ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʷⁱⁿᵗᵉʳ﹐ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˢᵏ ᵐᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵛⁱᵒˡᵉⁿᶜᵉ / ᵃˢᵏˢ

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blackbat05 · 2 years

Text

Complete Faith

Steven Grant x Reader

A/N: I foresee more of these fics to cope🙂 but I hope it brings you comfort too in tough times. Steven being a sweetheart as always💞

Genre: PG-13

Warnings: Self-doubt, insecurity. Only my two braincells writing this.

***

You ambled into the room, carefully placing your bag at the side before settling on the swivel chair.

Steven who is on the bed, puts a bookmark in his novel, turning his attention to you.

“Bad day?”

“Nah, just exhausted.” You smiled weakly. It was only a few weeks in but somehow, you found yourself easily overwhelmed.

Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself mentally. Before Steven can ask you further, you decide to interject, asking about the novel in his hand - a book about old Egyptian times.

Steven shares, and his enthusiasm is what you need to momentarily keep your mind away from whatever is going on.

“Enough about me,” he shifts his position, swinging his legs off the bed. “Anything you want to share with me?”

Steven was so genuine, so caring. How could you deny him the right to know what was buzzing in your head?

He was a great source of support ever since you met him in the museum while you were taking a break from work. He deserves to know.

“It’s crazy. It hasn’t been a month yet and I’m already feeling all sorts of things. I must be mad.” You attempt to laugh it off, only to see the browns of his eyes soften.

“Love, you’re literally talking to me. I think I’ll decide what’s mad.” Steven takes your hands into his.

“What kind of things?”

You don’t know where to start, but Steven doesn’t rush you to tell him.

“Well, for starters I feel like I’m a twenty-four seven klutz. Can’t do anything right.” You suddenly find yourself focusing on twiddling your thumbs. There, you got it out.

Steven takes some time to process the information. He doesn’t want to cut you off immediately. He knows there’s more. Silence can be powerful when used correctly.

“And I know I shouldn’t be complaining when other people have it way much tougher,” you sighed. “But my emotions are all over the place more than usual.” You look at him, a non-verbal signal for Steven that it was ok for him to speak now.

Steven always chooses his words carefully, and this time it’s no different.

“We all have different thresholds for stress love, I’m just glad you told me.” He says quietly, waiting for your reaction.

You had so much affection for this man in front of you, and now it only increased by tenfold.

“How are you so rational?”

“Takes a lot of practice.” Steven holds your hands gently, telling you to relax your body.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, love. You’re only just starting out - if there’s anytime to make mistakes, it’s now.” Hazel eyes oozing sincerity, he made you forget your worries in that moment.

“Thank you, I mean it. I know that I shouldn’t beat myself up but it’s easier said than done.” You sighed, internally blaming your mind’s tendency to go into overdrive.

“Then I’ll be there to remind you at every step of the way.”

A minute of silence passes between the two of you and in typical fashion, your stomach growls, bringing it to both of your attention. Steven chuckles.

“Hungry?”

And that’s how the two of you end up at the marbled counter top with a shared pot of piping hot ramen. Slurping the noodles from your bowl greedily, you were grateful for the spiciness.

“So, its the weekend. Anything we could do?” You knew Steven had meant well but you felt that he had already done so much.

“That’s alright Steven, you must be tired too.”

“Nah, we could do something else instead.” Steven thinks carefully. “How about that newly renovated library? Then we could get some lunch at the food court.”

He truly knew you inside out.

“I’ll love that.”

As the bowl of soup started to decrease in level, you felt oddly warm in a good way. Steven seems to be able to read your mind, as he starts to clear the dishes.

The two of you moved like clockwork, and you find yourself back in bed, more relaxed than you were. Curtains drawn, you find yourself staring at the tiny street light that found its way into your house.

“Hey Steven?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.” You rolled over to face him, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck.

He can’t help but to smile serenely, patting the back of your head. Steven knows that even though he can’t make all your problems disappear, he was willing to do whatever it took to make your load lighter.

But one thing he was damn sure about - he had complete faith that you could do it. And he was going to be there every step of the way.

#steven grant comfort #steven grant fluff #steven grant x reader #steven grant x reader fluff #oscar isaac #moon knight

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discount-romantic · 2 years

Text

Imagine Childe...

Coming home when you least expect it.

Warnings: vindictive reader pov, personal vent piece

"Welcome home." Childe's voice is less than cheery. The feux friendliness has given way to what almost sounds like...disappointment.

It's an hour before sunrise. The time you usually slip into bed after a night doing guild commissions rather than sleeping. You only lay down for a few hours, sleeping in fits and feeling restless.

"Childe!" You jump what feels like ten feet off the floor of your home's entryway. "I thought- hah...."

His visit home was supposed to take longer than this. At least, thats what he led you to believe. You feel guilty for wishing it had taken longer. That way he wouldn't have found out about your late night work this way. So far you'd evaded detection by the fatui agents he tasked with watching you, but that was mostly by using the translocation beacons and archon statues. Also by knowing when the watchers had a shift change, and sneaking back in when it happened.

Childe is still dressed in his travel attire, so maybe he hasn't waited long. Hopefully.

"I must have just missed you leaving earlier in the night, if you've been home at all today?" He takes a few steps closer in a way that would feel threatening if his mouth weren't stuck in a worried frown. "The agents tell me that nobody has come in or out since yesterday afternoon."

You hum, and stare. Two can dance to this tune. He wants to know what you'll tell him without poking and prodding.

The answer is nothing. Feeling like shit since he left for his homeland was almost a given; you'd become used to his presence at your side. Lying in bed, getting lunch, walking the market. Being alone suddenly was jarring in all the wrong ways. You hated it. Hated yourself for being so attached at the hip to Childe.

And fighting before he left hadn't helped anything, that's for sure. It was about what he does and doesn't tell you. What information he withholds and why. Even important, time sensitive things...like going away for an indefinite amount of time. He told you that in the morning, and left the same afternoon.

So you spent all that time burying yourself in work. Any work. Cleaning, commissions, even helping Zhongli with whatever odds and ends he needed dealt with. A routine was formed. Work, work harder, work more, and then collapse. Repeat steps. It kept your mind busy, and that was enough.

"Care to tell me what you've been up to while I was away?" Childe's arms cross loosely.

So he wants to know? After no contact, messages, or letters for three months he finally wants to know how you're doing? After being trailed by agents that wont or cant tell you his status?

"No."

He blinks, eyebrows furrowing. "Try again, my love."

Your head tilts to the side, "I said no."

"You're...more upset with me than I thought you'd be." You can see his grip tighten on his crossed arms. You know it's not anger, it's worry.

But a very awful part of you is present. Cruel and tired. Full of animosity and willing to lash out at anything or anyone. "Maybe."

"Cuddle time? Cuddles always make you feel better." Childe's tone has shifted to vague, but present, optimism. "Or since it's so early we could cook breakfast together."

Your chest feels like it's about to burst. You hate yourself. You hate this. You hate that your own desire to self destruct is going to hurt Childe. Because if you were feeling rational, feeling normal, you would be so happy that he's home.

Instead all you want is to go back to work and forget about the feeling in your gut that makes you want to rip yourself apart in the most literal way.

"I missed you," Childe's tone is tentative, "Teucer asked how you are."

It doesn't feel like you've blinked in a solid minute, "That's nice."

His face changes in a way you can't describe. "Stop. We both know what you're doing. You're trying to hurt me so I go away and leave you to hurt yourself. I'm not leaving."

"You should." That doesn't change anything. If you really, really wanted to go, you could. It would mean Childe finding out about your use of the translocation statues, but you could go. Maybe he'll just let you walk out. It's worth a try, so you spin on heel and head for the door.

He lunges forward more quickly than you can react in such an exhausted state, and heaves you over his shoulder. "We're going to talk this out."

Suuure you are. As though you didn't go limp the second he touched you. As though you plan to say anything at all. From the direction he turned, you can tell he's heading to the bedroom.

He drops you on your feet for only a moment before dragging your uncaring body into a different position. Sitting on the floor between his bent up knees, back pressed into his chest to feel his heart thrumming steadily in beautiful rhythm.

Childe's hands are already starting to wander. Running a thumb over your jawline, massaging circles into your aching temples. He gently ghosts delicate touches over bruises from the comission work, placing a chaste kiss against the back of your neck as if that would heal you.

That awful part of you wants to scream, struggle, fight. Show the pain you feel at being near abandoned for three months, not knowing when or even if your lover was coming back. After all...fatui business is dangerous. He said he would be back, but there was no true way to be sure.

But a fight would almost be more relieving to him than this silence, you're sure. Combat is what he excels in, and where Childe feels at home. At least if you tried to run away he would know what to do. This is better. Let him suffer.

So you lay against him like a ragdoll, letting his hands roam to try and comfort you. A futile endeavor.

"I...I'm sorry." He sounds more vulnerable than you've ever known him to be. "I'm sorry, please stay.

"Chiushka." The soft form of his name sighs its way out of your mouth, "I am upset, and I don't have the capacity to express how hurt I am, but I still love you."

Childe curls around your body, holding you tight and squeezing.

"You are my darling Chiushka, and I will always be waiting for you to come home." You set your hand on his, and worry your thumb over his rough knuckles. "I'm wounded, I'm upset, and I want to make you feel even a fraction of my agony...but I won't."

His forehead buries itself in the crook of your neck, "Forgive me?"

"I will. All things in time, my darling Chiushka."

#genshin impact #genshin fluff #self comfort #childe #tartaglia #ajax #childe x reader

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dateko · 3 years

Text

Satoru does not live with you, but he sure likes to act like does.

Over the years, he has gradually made himself a norm in your daily routines and disrupted all of the schedules you’ve made for yourself. After all, Satoru hates routine. And it’s obvious when he continues to casually invite himself over even when you’re not home. It no longer surprises you when you come home to the sight of him sprawled all over your couch, accompanied with various sugary snacks in his arms. Also, you’ve grown numb to his surprise visits into the bathroom while you’re using the toilet.

“Can’t you wait?” You ask, embarrassed.

“No can do, sweets. Need to look at you while I brush my teeth.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Disgustingly in love with you.”

Well, you can’t even complain because you love him too much. At this point, the two of you practically live together. You can’t quite remember when you decided he could have a copy of your key, but because he was so excited that the two of you could have matching Hello Kitty and Dear Daniel keychains, you let him have his moment. Also, he pays for your rent.

You’re still not used to seeing your bathroom sink cluttered with both of your selfcare products or to the sight of his larger shoes neatly aligned beside your smaller ones. There’s a softness in your heart that you can’t quite pinpoint yet. You feel it when you’re working into the later hours of the night and you spot Satoru leaning against the doorframe, asking you when you’ll come to bed with him. You feel it when he reaches the top shelf just to get your favorite cup or when he stocks up your pantry with both of your favorite snacks. The domesticity of it all is getting to you. Maybe you should just get married and move in already, but that’s a thought for another day.

Adoration is one thing in your heart that you’ve identified and you feel it every morning you wake up beside Satoru. You’ve got too much pride to tell him this yourself and you know it’ll just inflate that head of his, but you really love when Satoru wakes up before you or when he attempts to spoil you with breakfast in bed and you have to tell him that you can't eat anything radioactive until 6pm.

This would not be a thought you’d be having if you didn’t include what kind of gracious morning the both of you have each day. Well, really, you don’t wake up glamorous at all. You’re groggy, stinky, and have a long trail of dried spit on the side of your face. But today’s morning is a good morning. Sort of.

A pair of soft lips ghost their way across your shoulder, waking you up. You blindly place a hand on the owner’s cheek, sitting up a bit so you can squint at him properly. The room is silent except for the soft giggles and greetings you exchange with your boyfriend. His hands loosely lay on the side of your waist and he smiles, taking pride in the way you hold each other in the sheets as the morning light slips through the blinds. Whenever he looks at you, your breath hitches every time. They’re a particular blue you could never name. A sight you could never get tired of. It’s like swimming in the deep made entirely of him. Reflective of what it’s like to be in love with him. You like how it feels when you see your own self reflected in his eyes.

“Like what you see?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, causing you to throw a leg over his torso and roll your eyes.

You card your finger though his snowy locks with a sigh and he looks down at you with a slightly serious expression on his face. You’ve got an inkling on what he’s thinking about.

“Can I ask what’s on the menu for breakfast?” He jokes, his eyebrows dancing once again.

Already used to this overused question, you pull yourself up to kiss the corner of his mouth gently. “Hmm… How about me n you?”

Satoru chuckles softly at you, “You always come up with the best plans, babe.” He brings your hand playing with his ear to his lips, making sure to look at you lovingly as he kisses each of your fingertips and you can’t help but blush. For as long as you’ve known him, Gojo Satoru has always made you blush and you wonder if you’ll be falling in love with him over and over again for the rest of your life. A gasp leaves your lips after his last kiss and he shifts himself so he’s looking down at you in your love stricken expression. You settle back into the pillows with a sigh, thankful for a day off and finally having the time to yourselves in the white sheets and light.

The blue eyes above you are studying, pleading without needing any words. He’s about to say something while you're eyeing his boxers when your phone rings from the bedside table. You groan, scrabbling for it before Satoru can pick up and tell whoever’s on the other line that he’s literally about to blow your back out and then some.

It’s work.

You and Satoru both groan, listening to your boss ask you to come in on your day off. When you end the call, Satoru is looking down at you with a pout. While you wish you could give yourselves ten minutes of indulgence, you rub his arm with a playful and reassuring smile. “Duty calls, baby. Besides, you’re a big boy right? You got it.”

When you kick the duvet off and move to change into your work attire, you’re half expecting Satoru to pull you back and ask you to call in sick, but your boyfriend has already left (teleported) and you wonder if he really did go take care of his little dilemma on his own.

There’s a loud clunk that seems to be coming from the kitchen and you peer down the loft to find the boyfriend in question hurriedly make an easy lunch for you. Your heart melts. You could get used to this.

Hastily finishing the skincare routine and reaching for your coat, you run down the stairs to grab everything else. But before you can leave, a large hand pulls you back into the kitchen. “Forgetting something?”

“‘Course not.” You plant a chaste kiss on the boyfriend’s lips. “Have a good morning, baby.”

Before you could slip away for the third time this morning, Satoru makes sure to make an announcement in the hallway. “And don’t forget we’re continuing where we left off as soon as you come home, okay?”

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #bye this better work #ignore me reposting this like i'm a lil crazy #also this is just hot trash all i can find in me to write is domestic aus #someone help me... FREE ME!!!!

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sugar-petals · 3 years

Note

can you give us more thoughts about domestic yoongles? the taemin's one (wich I love) just made me miss the cat boy so much ;o;

i have a phd in househusband yoongi so let me fire out some ideas for ya.

myg at home headcanon

🐱 word count. 1.9k | fluff, slice of life, slight nsfw mentions, x reader, bullet points

The doorbell sound is a recording of Yoongi imitating a doorbell. He’s such a meme. Ceci n'est pas une pipe.

Seemingly, he teaches himself a new recipe every week. To perfection. Yoongi is very particular about sticking to the recipe and wielding his kitchen tools in the right way. He collects knives, olive oil, and still hates cutting onions.

He separates sleep time, work time, and couple time as the holy trinity. For each, he switches his mood.

Blushes easily no matter for how long you’ve been together.

Establishes his own radio show where he DJs at one point.

Yoongi keeps an extreme track on the garbage schedule. He knows exactly what is due when. Separating the trash is a must. That includes sorting out fake friends trying to get between your relationship. Your social circle as a couple is extremely deliberate.

Yoongi deems himself a terrible host for guests. Unless Hoseok is there to drag him out, it's true he rather stays in the kitchen or at the barbecue preparing the menu courses rather than making small talk. He leaves the hospitality bits to you, however you want to go about it.

What he lacks in conversing with guests, he makes up in bed, God is absolutely fair.

He sings and hums pretty often and has his own vernacular of extraterrestrial uwu noises. It's an alphabet that you have to yet decipher but it's incredibly cute.

Self-made paintings everywhere around his house.

Yoongi hasn't gone clubbing since grammar school. The most he does is going to a restaurant at lunch with very close friends. And always in a work context. His private life is so secluded from everything else and paparazzi just don't spot him anywhere, Dispatch thinks he must live abroad.

Very well, he does consider his big ole house a separate country. It's a living organism with a studio, gym, trophy room, small-size basketball court, and vastly equipped kitchen. A home theater as well, he likes American movies (like Inception) and Korean action genres, and you can stream whatever you fancy in there whenever you like.

Yes, he has underwear with cute little bears on.

There's even a little pond in the backyard. Yoongi, Pisces he is, likes fishes after all. Sometimes he sits at the edge of the 'Little Ole Min Lake (LOML)' and stares into the water for literal hours with his chin parked on his palm.

His fridge is so high-tech and futuristic, even Yoongi is rendered clueless by its AI sometimes. The washing machine, too.

Yoongi watches RuPaul’s drag race. What did you expect? He finds it so humorous.

Owns lord knows how many comic collections.

Favorite holiday destination: New York.

Christmas is basically 50% you unveiling new music equipment to him in the garage and Yoongi almost fainting at the sexiness of it. The other 50% is spent holding hands and orgasm after orgasm until the new year since you loose track of time.

Goes on long rants why he’d marry you again every weekend.

Making you presents is his specialty. Always accompanied with a hand-written note. He writes a lot of things by hand for you in general. Texting, basically never. Always on paper.

No sex without a blanket and socks on. Yoongi gets cold very very easily and just doesn’t like showing skin. You buy him a heated blanket for his birthday, he even uses it in his studio chair.

Chronically addicted to making out.

Matching black outfits and glasses.

Laughs at even your worst jokes or phrases you didn’t expect you even uttered.

Yoongi owns the phoniest, most secretive-looking black car ever and nobody knows about it. Even he forgets he owns it, in fact he genuinely acts like it just doesn’t exist. Hilarious. And that guy has a level 1 Korean driver's license. Which allows him to drive trailers and busses and fucking trucks, and construction machines, let that sink in.

It's really a genius curse. Yoongi being put to the test will always deliver but he won't choose to execute his full skillset if he doesn't have to. Well, pragmatic. He's not as phony as he thinks he is, which is even more hilarious.

He uses that behemoth of a car so scarcely because he'd rather have things delivered to his doorstep and he's stingy with gas. Also, he doesn't like traffic and driving because of the traumatic shoulder accident and his tendency to space out. Translation: You drive that thing... that monster... it really is an impressive, fast, and scary machine.

If someone devious ever even remotely manages to invade his privacy and get past the doubly-installed security system, he has enough money to deal with it no matter what.

If it concerns your privacy, he's a red belt. And owns Jin's number if a taekwondo master is required. Jimin's if it needs someone with kendo skills.

If Yoongi needs someone to go on a complete rampage, Jungkook lives just down the block. He can sprint to Yoongi's bunker I mean mansion within 45 seconds. 30 if it's very urgent. 20 if the reward is an instant ramen splurge with Yoongi's black card.

He has a sexy, glamorous sword collection hanging on the living room wall anyways, so. Who the hell is dumb enough to mess with him and his expensive lawyer in the first place.

But just in case, who knows... Yoongi settles matters shruggingly, anonymously, and with cash and he's too exhausted for violence, but don't underestimate his deter-min-ation and network for emergencies. Also, he is Agust D after all.

He will bonk a naughty burglar or kidnapper across the head with a wooden cooking spoon or take him down by throwing a basketball if the situation requires it. Damn, his reflexes are so fast, a feral cat in motion. So, lean back and sip on your drink of choice. Things are cared for.

If Yoongi is the one being kidnapped or a highly skilled stalker invades the property at night when he's fast asleep (nothing can wake this man during certain hours, strong REM right here): Don't forget that honeyboy is a Dodgers fan. There are signed baseball bats everywhere in this damn house.

In that sense, your parents visiting you here for the first time thought you were an undercover thug couple. Not to worry mom and dad, you both just like sports very much okay.

Yoongi walks around in all black clothes and the rooms are all seemingly dark. Even if you live together, you don't know his skin care routine. It's clear to you he's some sort of vampire.

Since Yoongi always forgets to remove his makeup, you made it a habit to wipe it down when he's about to pass out. He won't lie, he enjoys that kind of affection.

Holly is your resident child. You're essentially a family.

He insists to tackle this by himself, Yoongi sees his therapist monthly. Not shifting responsibility is something he's stubborn about and he pours his emotions into writing. You will do conversation about deeper stuff, but he says it's mostly up to him and his own mind. He dislikes burdening you or opening up too much and it's something to respect rather than force him about. If he wants to share a thought, he will. It doesn’t mean he can’t trust you or sucks at communicating (we know that he’s direct). Yoongi simply can’t put that much pain in such few words nor should you alleviate it for him.

Calls from the manager faze Yoongi as much as Jimin is bothered by gravity. If he’s busy kissing your body slow mo, who the hell dares to disturb his worship.

This man had so many let-downs and interpersonal catastrophes in his life, he's super discerning with people. Because he rolls that way, during their first meeting Yoongi uses his psychology certificate on your friends. You see him squint at them, he listens very closely. After they pass the vibe check aka meow radar, he befriends them, too.

Yoongi doodles Grammy trophies everywhere to manifest them.

Yoongi shaves his legs.

All the sex toys he’s ever bought are black. Gotta vibe in style.

He spends ridiculous amounts of time in the studio but he's yours for the remainder of the night, breakfast, and he makes a lavish lunch and dinner.

Um, consider his head parked between your legs. The Hongkong line was not a joke.

Doesn’t mind you squishing his cheeks whenever and for how long you like.

Every other weekend he gets flowers, vouchers, and gifts — not because of fans, they don’t know where his house is, but because he donates so much.

Namjoon often drops by and cleanses the area with his crystals.

Yoongi is a photography major so you can ask him to take professional, ceiling-high black and white shots of you.

Feeding each other food lovingly. Man, this guy got lips.

He set up a library just for you, in the exact historical aesthetic you like the most. Send him the link to any book you want, it's basically in the online shopping cart already. As I said, he wants to make you presents like every week.

Sometimes he sits on the other end studying English videos and vocab while you read. And yes, he's already 95% fluent but pretends being merely intermediate. He knows technical terms even native speakers have never heard of.

He collects pajamas and earrings.

Swears on the phone.

Namjoon being the horniest member is a cover-up story. Yoongi masturbates almost unreasonable amounts of times, by himself and in your arms when going to bed. Not gonna lie, it’s a sight to see his hands at work. He’s almost equally obsessed with fingering you once you ask him.

Yoongi was the one asking you to move in and almost had a nervous meltdown before meeting up with you to tell you just that.

He’s the little spoon and of course a sleeping burrito to hold tight.

Finds you equally attractive in any state or styling. Yoongi practices what he preaches, he always reacts the same and says the same.

Jams out to outrageous beats Namjoon sends him by dancing in the studio. You walk in on him every time. Was embarrassed at first, now you dance along.

Has bought you a life-sized Yoongi pillow and customized you a giant Shooky to hug when he’s not at home over night.

Owned a wine cellar until he quit drinking. Turned it into a piano room instead.

Only you know Yoongi has a serpent and dagger tattoo.

Scrubs the bathroom religiously.

The house smells like restaurant food and his extravagant perfumes half of the time.

Sometimes he has to remind himself he’s married to you and not his coffee machine. He shall be forgiven. You can’t complain that he doesn’t love you enough, nor is he ever not adorable when drinking his latte.

Never wears short sleeves. It can be scorching and he’ll wear a jacket.

Tell him and the cap stays on during sex.

He grows his hair out and puts it in a low bun. The bangs remain.

Yoongi has installed the most fire-proof building in the entire city it seems. That he wanted to be a firefighter when he was young definitely shows. Figures the house has to be protected from heat: His blasting studio music and Yoongi himself are just way too sizzling.

Still melts into a puddle when you kiss his nose.

Couple sunrise watching.

#yoongi #yoongi hc #yoongi x reader #bts #bts x reader #bts hc #yoongi scenario

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shotorozu · 3 years

Text

TITLE : hospital stay

PAIRING : bakugou katsuki x reader

SYNOPSIS : you’re in the hospital on your boyfriend’s birthday, and bakugou seems to have no issue with spending it in there.

WARNING(S) : MHA MANGA SPOILERS ‼️ (recent arc)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, a quirk similar to the avatar but that’s about it.

note(s) : so, it’s bakugou’s birthday. and i had this idea since march 20 😦 so i’ve been waiting for his birthday to come for literally a month but i didn’t want to post this way too early. alsooo i don’t know if this arc happened near spring but lets pretend it did for the sake of the story

When you woke up, the fluorescent lights were the first to hit your face

Following by the incoming beeping of a monitor, and the sudden throbbing of your head, the dryness of your throat evident.

Blinking slowly (or trying to, your other eye being a bit delayed.) you try recalling what just happened. You’re in a hospital, that’s one thing you know, but the specifics are still unknown to you.

Right. You remember now, you were fighting along side your classmates, and you managed to get blasted away when you thought that shielding Bakugou Katsuki would work. Yeah, you were sure that you were going to get an earful from him, if he—

You jolt when you notice said blond standing right next to your bed, vermillion eyes staring deep into your own, and somewhat— you could feel the weight and intensity in the stare

“S-since when did you get here?” You’re startled, and your voice is hoarse. Bakugou doesn’t formulate a response, and chooses to avoid the question as a whole.

“Finally you’re up.” He rolls his eyes. He looks much better than you remembered, despite having a few bandages on his forehead— he looked well. “It’s been 5 fucking days.”

“Five days?” You question out loud, your sense of time all disorganized. You clench your hand, just to see if your quirk was still working. Seeing air, fire, water, and just.. something, would relieve your worries— but a look from the blond shot you down quickly. You decided that it was wise if you didn’t try.

The blond seems to be done with the conversation, since he immediately walks out of the room. Actually, why was he here? You’d expect him to be laying down in bed, but despite being hit with that beam, he was walking around like everything was fine.

He comes back with a few other nurses, and they’re relieved to see that you’re awake— and even though they’ve bombarded you with questions with how you felt, you couldn’t brush off the feeling of a pair of ruby eyes on you.

Just, glaring. It’s nothing abnormal.

When the nurses finally leave you alone, giving you details of a few injuries— like your injured— well, burned eyelid that honestly stung (it came from the fire aspect of your quirk) you would’ve expected to be alone in your hospital room for the rest of your time there but Bakugou stayed.

“You’re going to tell me why you jumped in front of me?”

You were expecting to be questioned by him, after all— what you did didn’t exactly shield him, since he was also pierced. You didn’t expect the interrogation to be happening this soon

“Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t want to fucking know.” And he suddenly changes his mind, just like that.

You would’ve said impulse as an answer, but you doubt that he would’ve taken that seriously. And besides, you were kind of glad he changed midway that he didn’t want your answer. Your voice feels parched, despite chugging down a glass of water earlier.

“Did you check up on Deku?” You cringe when you hear cracks in your voice, and the dryness is unbearable to your throat, but he nods. “Idiot’s knocked out cold.”

He doesn’t mention the fact that you were one of the last few people that were still rendered unconscious.

“Your throat sounds like the sahara desert. Do me a favor and drink up.”

You blink owlishly at the glass of water that was set on the mini table, and when you drink up— it actually does something to relieve (temporarily) the dryness.

It was a consequence of your quirk after all, using your quirk too much would cause your body to feel sore, and everywhere to feel dry, and he knew that.

Bakugou was acting uncharacteristically, and you just don’t know why. Maybe it’s not so uncharacteristic of him, since he’s been less of an asshole as of recently, but you know that he would probably deviate from the question if you asked, so the both of you sat in silence.

—

It’s the next day, the same as yesterday— except it looked like dawn when you woke up. Bakugou also appeared at the side of your bed once again, almost as if he was there for quite some time.

“Nice to see you too,” You think to yourself, and you’re glad you didn’t actually say that out loud. You try to stand up straight, but Bakugou’s quick to push your back against the pillows.

“Don’t sit up, that’s idiotic.”

“Right, sorry. How did you get here? Isn’t it too early?” The parched throat came back. Though the ‘magical’ baku-water helped, it’s effects were only temporarily, sadly.

“You call 7am early?” Right, because for him— 7am isn’t that early, you even remember seeing him up at 6 sometimes.

“Actually, wait.” You blink, trying to recall what day it was, and what month it was. You recalled it being spring but.. was it March? or was it April already?

“What.. day is it today?”

It was almost like he was hesitant to say, “..April 20.”

“What the— April 20?” You’re appalled, because the last time you remembered, it wasn’t anywhere near April 20, but maybe it’s your 5 day unconsciousness to be blamed. “Isn’t it your birthday?”

“Shut up,” He mumbles, and he shifts around the room in search of something, but it’s too dim to be able to tell.

“Medicine. The nurses said you should take it now.”

You don’t reply.

“It’s for your Sahara desert throat. The other things are for your fucked up eye and injuries.”

That seems to be enough to convince you to take the medicine, and despite wanting to run away screaming from the bitterness, you take the medicine— not wanting to be met with any consequences

“Why are you spending your birthday here?”

“Do idiots like you ask that many questions?” He shoots back, and you’re unfazed by the fact that he just called you an idiot. You wouldn’t blame him.

“No but.. you seem fine.”

“A few days ago I was not, but now I am because I took medicine.” He walks over to untwist a few medicine caps, it appears to be for your eye.

“So, Does my eye look fine?” You bat your eyelashes just to mess with him, and he flicks your forehead with an ointment cap “No.”

“Sorry, sorry,” You laugh, choosing to completely ignore the sudden sharp pain when you laugh.

He bends down to reach eyelevel, “Can you see?”

“Sorta.” Your eye has this thin blur filter to it, that can’t be good— can it? Going blind in one eye, and having to wear an eye patch.

It was almost on cue, because Bakugou says “You’ll be rocking the pirate look if you don’t take your medicine,” Instead of handing the medicine for you to apply, he quickly applies a decent amount around your eyes— not giving you a warning whatsoever.

You wince slightly, but you’re glad it’s over. But why is he playing nurse with you? And why was he brushing off the fact that it’s literally his birthday.

—

Through out the entire day, Bakugou continued to act as if he had some responsibility over you. From helping you put on your medicine, to just monitoring you with eyes of a hawk. The fact that he chose to ignore all your protests was just a part of him.

His behavior was also very.. interesting. It would swing from being his usual self, to being this eerily quiet and calm Bakugou. You would’ve guessed that you were having a fever dream, if it weren’t for the fact that he wore his usual scowl on his face.

What remained consistent, despite it all— was that he stayed. He ate lunch in your room. He only left when the doctors and nurses asked him too, but that was only temporary. He stayed with you the entire day, even when the clock stroke 5pm.

But it’s quite literally his birthday? Why would he spend it in a hospital room with some extra? Or idiot? Let alone, why would he take care of said idiot/extra on his birthday? You don’t know because he refuses to tell you on why he spent it here.

“Did you at least get some cake or something?” You ask for the umpteenth time, Bakugou’s paced back and forth for some medicine bottles and bottles of water, and you could tell that he was scowling, despite the fact that he was facing the other direction, “Why the hell would I want cake? You’ve been asking weird shit all day.”

“Because it’s your birthday? Seriously— have you been brainwashed into thinking that it’s not your birthday?”

“What— fuck no. I haven’t been brainwashed.” He turns over to you, “I know today is my birthday.”

“Okay, so you know. Why aren’t you celebrating then? Did people forget? Or am I finally going insane?”

Bakugou chooses to stay silent. He stands up, and walks over to you— everytime he moves closer, you could feel your heart pound, luckily not at a dangerous rate.

“Birthday, birthday, birthday” He grumbles, quiet, but loud enough for you to hear. “That’s all you’ve been talking about. As if like you weren’t the one in the hospital bed as we speak.”

“Okay, is it wrong to remember your birthday?”

“Shut up, I didn’t say that.” He gets closer once again, almost to the point that your faces weren’t that far away.

“You’ve just been so concerned about my damn birthday, that you haven’t even taken a good look at yourself,” He gestures at you, by looking you up and down

You finally take observation of all of the gauzes, the IV tubes, and bandages, his words forcing you to look at what was reality.

“I don’t know why you did what you did, jumping in front of me like some kind of heroic bastard, it’s dumb. For all I know, I should be screaming at you, and wishing you the worst for that.” He clenches his fist when he recalls, the scene replaying in his head

“But what I am saying is that, you can give me a gift if you’re so fucking concerned about my birthday. It’s the least you can do.” His statement is solid enough for you to take him seriously. You wouldn’t have if he was scowling, but it’s quite.. different. An expression you’ve seen all day, but seeing it up close is a different story.

“And that would be..?” You gulp, anticipation bubbles

And just like that, he presses his lips against yours, the warmth of his lips sending shocks of warmth all around your body— the impact was abrupt, but the kiss as a whole was surprisingly gentle

Yet, it was also similar to his quirk, it sparked up spurs of need and sent goosebumps all over your body.

You place a hand on his shoulder, the tubes around your arms making it too difficult to wrap your arms around him as you deepened the kiss, Bakugou’s touch is cautious when he lays his hand on a spot that was the least affected, aware of your injuries. Pushing the small of your back with his hand quite gently, he kisses you like it’ll be the very last— even though you both know it won’t be.

When you both pull back, you’re taken aback— unable to think of coherent words, and a proper response.

But this damn bastard, he smirks at you knowing that he just sent shocks and explosions of intense feelings all around your body, your lips still tingling from the kiss.

“Wait, that’s unfair!”

“What?”

“I had no idea you even liked me!”

“For the fucking longest time I did, why the hell would I even be in some extras room, if I didn’t care about them?!” He tries not to yell too loudly but, the tone of his voice gets raised

You blink, “And you preferred playing nurse with your crush this entire time, instead of spending it properly like well.. everyone else?”

“Who the hell said— Fucking hell, do I have to kiss you again for you to understand?”

“Enlighten me,” Your mouth quirks up into a smile, which ultimately causes his cheeks to be set ablaze.

“Playing fucking nurse with you isn’t horrible. It’s one way to spend my birthday, even when you give me shit about it” His brows press together, trying to drown out his flustered expressions with a scowl, “There’ll be more birthdays to come, so why would I be ‘wasting’ it here? There, that’s it. You happy now?”

Silence.

“..More than happy. But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about your thing for playing nur—”

“Don’t you fucking finish that thought,” He says stern. “I’m going to get the nurses to check on you, and then— I’ll go home and come back again, tomorrow.”

He storms off, and when the blond is sure that he’s not in your line of vision anymore— he slumps against the wall

“Fucking hell, they’re driving me crazy.” He mumbles, recalling what he had pulled off earlier.

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

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superhero--imagines · 4 years

Text

Etsy Store Here l Ko-Fi l Commission Info

Part 2 Here!/ Part 3 Here! / Playlist Here!

* Sorry guys but this mans been living in my head rent free

* So the first time you see Satoru it’s with those black specs he likes to wear and you get a glance at those GORGEOUS eyes

* He meets your eyes for a second before looking away, it’s the briefest of interactions

* But your heart is racing and you can feel the familiar heat of attraction starting to lap at your face

* ‘He looks just like a prince’ you think

* You find out pretty fast the ‘prince’ similarities stop at appearance

* “Ah it’s not my fault you’re so weak~” You hear him say with the princely smile as he teases Utahime

* It looks like he’s held something so high she can’t reach it

* “Try your best, if you drink plenty of milk I’m sure you’ll be tall enough one day~” he says before laughing with that same princely face

* “You shouldn’t pick on those that are weaker than you” Geto intervenes, somehow making the entire situation worse

* You watch as Gojo laughs

* You’re starting to think he might be the real curse you need to exorcise

* You continue watching him as Utahime tries to kick him in the crotch

* “You silly girl, did you forget there’s an infinity between us?” Cue Gojo’s “A-hahahahaha” laugh

* Yeah, he’s definitely a demon

* You keep your distance, Gojo’s beautiful and all, but you’re not dumb, you’ve heard about the Satoru clan.

* “Hey Geto-Kun, who do you think would win in a fight me or a lion?”

* Besides that guy is way too reckless, you’d rather not get all mixed up in that if you can help it

* You watch as Satoru takes his shirt off, his well defined chest glistening

* Still, you’re grateful for the show

* Little do you know the famous Gojo Satoru has taken note of you as well

* Naturally given his ability he notices everyone, but he especially takes note of you

* It’s not because you stand out, quite the opposite

* You blend into the background easily, supporting others when needed

* But not to the degree where you unable to defend yourself, or you’re sacrificing your own life for someone else

* He grins

* Looks like he found something interesting

* You’re at the vending machine eyes racking over the drink selection

* But there’s another thirst quenching sight right next to you, their hand resting on the vending machine, that princely smile aimed right at you-

* “So what do you say?” Satoru asks, and you start to wonder if that princely smile seems just a bit wolfish “Do you want to be my lover?”

* You’re kind of annoyed

* What an impetuous question, you can count on one hand how many times you’ve spoken to each other, and you only need both hands to count the words said in each of those encounters

* “No”

* You turn your attention back to your drink choices, it’s pleasant weather so you don’t want anything hot.

* Anything carbonated is out of the-

* Gojo moves closer, peering into your face with that grin

* Ugh does he have to stand so close

* “Why ‘no’? I know you think I’m attractive”

* “I also think you’re a womanizer with a god complex”

* And really why shouldn’t he be?

* He’s probably the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your life, not to add the sheer power he contains in that body of his

* But just as he has the right to be a womanizer with a god complex, you have the right not to take part in that narrative

* He backs away, leaning back against the wall

* So he’s not going to deny it

* Well, at least he’s somewhat self aware

* Those clear blue eyes catch yours again, and you have to fight against every human instinct from showing any human reaction

* You turn back to the vending machine making your selection when a smile lilts onto his mouth

* “Friends then”

* “Just colleagues” you reply, grabbing your drink

* But as you walk by you push a canned beverage into his chest.

* It’s a can of green tea

* It’s his favorite drink

* He looks to you seeing a bottle glinting in your hand

* So you didn’t sacrifice your own thirst, but you also didn’t ignore his needs

* He feels that same wolffish grin curl onto his mouth

* “What an entertaining person”

* After that if you’re anywhere within a 50 feet radius of him he’ll go out of his way to get your attention

* “Oh wow, looking especially radiant this morning (Y/N/N)” he’ll say with a playful seductive wink

* When you don’t respond he tries annoying you instead

* “Ah you can’t reach that? Here let me-” and then he’ll proceed to hold it even further out of your reach

* He’s expecting you to jump up and down, or at least give some sort of response but you just walk away

* Well that wasn’t what he expected

* He feels that grin spread across his face again

* Very interesting

* His attraction to you is pretty shallow

* He’s interested you because you’re entertaining

* And you’re entertaining because you aren’t interested

* Which only makes him that much more interested in you

* Its a paradox

* You watch him flounder around, annoying Utahime for a giggle

* Well it doesn’t matter anyway, you know how he is, he’ll get bored soon enough and lose all interest in you

* He’s not the strongest {f*ckboy} for nothing

* You see him turn to meet your gaze, offering a boyish smile and a wink

* You make sure not to give any reaction, turning to listen to something Shoko is telling you

* You hope he can’t sense the twinge of heat you feel on your face

* You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find the attention a little flattering

* I think for the most part you’re right, Satoru is mostly playing around-

* At least at first.

* You’re just something new and fun no one knows about, and wildly entertaining since you never respond the way he thinks you will

* You’re kind, but not at the expense of yourself, and he likes that

* Besides you’ve got this quite sort of consideration for others-

* It’s not flashy, it’s so subtle most people hardly notice

* It’s in the way you bring an extra snack for Utahime when she’s running herself ragged training

* “They were having a two for one special”

* Or the way you’ll get your teacher a plushie you saw at a shop at the station because you know he needs more

* “I just thought it was cute, but I haven’t got any room for another one”

* You’re quiet, someone who hears things and she’s things, but never says anything about them

* A wallflower

* But you’re not weak

* There’s something about those two things put together in the same person that entertains him to no end. Like a paradox or a puzzle he can’t seem to solve no matter how hard he tries

* Satoru’s had at least a hundred lovers, and a great many of them had provided him with their own brand of kindness and consideration

* But he’s never felt something as warm as when he see’s a lunch box in his dorm after he hobbles back from a mission that lasted a little longer than expected

* He peers at the note attached, it’s not even signed but he knows it’s from you

* “I know you think you’re god or whatever, but even gods have to eat”

* He doesn’t know why, but he’s overcome with the urge to cry

* He gulps hard- it’s not like this a lunch you made by hand or anything, it’s just something from the convenience store

* And it’s not like this note is particularly affectionate or special either, he’s gotten entire love letters from his previous lovers

* So he’s not sure why he saves your note, placing it behind a picture frame where only he’ll know it is , or why he thinks that convenience store lunchbox is the most delicious thing he’s ever had

* Even though he knows he cares about you, and that he’s grown quite fond of you -

* I don’t think it clicks for him

* And part of that is because well, he’s Gojo Satoru

* He collects lovers like some people collect photographs or memories

* They serve their purpose, and he lets himself be entertained by pretending all the feelings are real, and then he moves on to the next one

* It’s just what he’s used to

* And this whole paradox you two have going on could go on for a few years until something finally shifts

* He went a little too far with one his half-flirting-half-tormenting pranks

* And for the first time you give him a reaction, it’s only for a second, but annoyance and anger mar you face

* And then just like that, it’s gone and you turn and walk off in the other direction

* Sh*t.

* He went too far didn’t he?

* It should be fine right? You’re not too mad at him right? You’ll get over it-

* Right?

* But for the next few days you don’t speak to him, and you don’t make eye contact

* It bothers him more than it should

* Normally he would be annoyed that his toy would have the gall to blatantly ignore him like this-

* But this is different than that.

* He’s-

* He’s feeling regret

* He shouldn’t have acted that way to you, maybe if he had just done something differently, or said something differently-

* It’s not like the way things were between you two was ideal or anything,

* But at least then you would at least speak to him

* ... and every once in while he would get to see you smile

* It’s never at him, it’s mostly when you’re with Shoko or Utahime

* Occasionally when you’re with Nanami or Geto, who you’ve been talking to more recently

* He’s pretty sure you three are talking about him, just one day away from forming a “down with Gojo Satoru” club

* Still that smile when you laugh-

* The way you look so carefree and young and so full of life is worth all the slander in the world to him

* He needs to see that smile, to know something that wholesome and kind exists somewhere in this cruel world

* Satoru’s thinking about how to go about apologizing to you

* He’s caught between buying you a Lamborghini or buying you a special grade tool when he ends up running into you

* “Ah, could you help me with something?”

* He would quite literally give you the clothes on his back right now if you asked

* You stand up on a a chair holding a glass of water

* “Apparently this is supposed to help with concentration or something” You say pressing the glass full of water to the ceiling

* “Can you hold this broom?” You ask and Satoru nods, holding the broom handle steady as you make sure it’s pushed against the glass holding it steady

* You nod approvingly down at him

* The rest happens pretty fast, you’re off the chair, carrying it away

* “The broom is actually a special grade tool, so cursed energy won’t work on it”

* You grin

* “Have fun figuring how to get out of that Baka Prince!” You say with a laugh

* And Satoru is dumbfounded

* But not because you just pranked him into a holding up a glass of water with a broom

* But because as you were rushing away, you showed him your teasing grin

* It’s the first time you smiled at him

* And as he looks up at the glass of water, a smile slowly spreads across his face

* It’s not the wolffish smile he usually has when he’s around you, or the princely smile he uses when he’s trying to get something

* It’s a genuine smile

* Ah, so that’s it

* He’s fallen in love with you

* If you’re not the one entertaining him, then he’s just not interested

* Ah geez

* He was so focused on trying to get you to fall in love with him that he really didn’t see this coming

* Well he’ll have to start being serious about pursuing you now-

* Though for you to pull off something like this on him tells him you’re his ideal match without a doubt

* A wallflower with a mischievous streak, he likes that.

* He scratches his head with his free hand

* “I wonder how I’m supposed to get out of this?” He muses looking up at the glass full of water

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen reader insert #satoru gojō x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satoru Gojo imagine #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #Gojo satoru imagine #Gojo satoru headcanons #satoru Gojo headcanons #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #superhero—imagines

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