#so remember to lock the doors when you come home~

[the-froschamethyst4]

Young Gf and Older bf

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Simon Ghost Riley Headcanons

SFW & NSFW

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SFW

Older bf! Simon who didn’t know how he felt about having a younger girlfriend

Older bf! Simon who was getting called “old man” by his girlfriend

Older bf! Simon who learned the hard way that some girls have expensive taste

Older bf! Simon who doesn’t talk much about his girlfriend to his mates, he feels like they’ll get on his ass about dating a young girl

Older bf! Simon who did most of the chores around the house

Older bf! Simon who stopped caring what he wore in front of people because his girlfriend is his little hype-man

“Does this work?” Simon asks coming into his shared bedroom with his girlfriend, she rolls on her side to look at him.

“They don’t match your shoes, Si.”

“What?” He looks down. “I thought they did.”

“Here, go try this on and come back at out.”

Older bf! Simon who told his girlfriend about his time in the military

Older bf! Simon who forget how young his girlfriend is, so when he makes jokes or says a movie reference she doesn’t know what he is talking about

Older bf! Simon who was honestly scared to meet his girlfriend’s family. She told them about Simon being older but not how old he was

“And how old are you, Simon?” Her dad asked leaning forward.

“I’m…40”

“40!!”

“Y/N?!”

“What?! He treats me good, he respects me, guys my age want that trad wife, Simon doesn’t, I can do or say what I want around him and feel good about myself.”

Older bf! Simon who knows everything about you. How you like your coffee, what time you’re suppose to be up for work, and he even knows when you’re about to start your period, you know when he shows up at home with bags full of pads and tampons and her favorite foods and drinks

Older bf! Simon who starts watching shows with you but complains about them but deep down he actually likes to watch them with his girlfriend

NSFW

Older bf! Simon who woke up to you in t-shirts and no shorts or pants, he likes seeing you in a t shirt and panties

Older bf! Simon who has woken up to morning wood before and needed help to get rid of it

“Love,” he kisses the shell of her ear. “Love…wake up,” he coos.

“Hmm~ Simon, not now please.”

“I know, love, you don’t have to do anything,” Simon lines himself up at her entrance and pushes himself into her

Older bf! Simon who like after argument sex

“Fuck you!”

“Oh yeah? Fuck me?” Simon carries a smirk on his face.

“Back up, Simon,” Y/n says putting her hand up on his chest to keep distance.

“Fuck me right? Fuck me?”

“Wait, wait,” your legs didn’t work for a few weeks

Older bf! Simon who tries different things with you, like BDSM you both hated it because it’ll be painful for you and Simon didn’t like you hurt

DDLG, he knows the age gap between you two but he hates the word ‘daddy’ makes him cringe

Mask kink, you both loved it, giving the illusion you were being fucked by someone else and he liked feelings your hands in his face

Voice kink, you liked it because of his deep voice already, he was on the fence, not saying your voice is annoying or anything he just didn’t get it

Knife play, you got scared when he accidentally dropped the knife and it was very close to your hand, it was the same thing with gun play you were afraid something wrong might happen

He tried to be a sub but you could barely take it seriously

Older bf! Simon who has fucked you when you were doing your work, you worked in a private office and all he had to do was shut and lock the door and bend you over your own desk

Older bf! Simon who is handsy when he’s horny

“Simon what do you want?”

“I want nothing,” he says as one of his hands were on your waste and the other snacks up to your breasts giving you a gentle squeeze and you gave him a soft moan.

“Just do it already, Simon,” she moans

Older bf! Simon who has kept a pair of your panties in his pockets and has forgotten about them before, he remembers when he accidentally sticks his hand into his pocket and feels the lace

Older bf! Simon who bought a motorcycle and takes you with him as his backpack, he found a abandoned place were no one comes to and you two had a good fuck on his bike

[bobbertskeetz]

Hi! How are You? Hope u are good.

Can I request Spencer with a reader that had unsub parents? It can be female ir male

You can ignore this is You want! Thank u for hearing me

I'm so sorry for the delay on this request, I'm crap at trying to come up with unsub plot lines but I hope this somewhat lives up to the imagine you had envisioned my love !! Thanks a million for the request and I hope you enjoy <3

ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟɪᴇꜱ ꜱ.ʀ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Summary: After half a decade, Spencer's worst fears are assumed to come true...

Themes/Warnings: gn!reader, pre-established relationship, mentions of kidnapping, unsub parents, angst, general themes and violence of the show. | PSA!! This imagine is loosely based on Mosely Lane |

You hated having your picture taken. The knowledge that you could never truly have control over what will be done with it haunts you even to this day.

The physical danger may be gone, but your memory, one which was shared with the many children who, unfortunately, found themselves locked away behind the dingy cellar door, forever remains.

Spencer knew of the horror stories. Of course he did. You made it your mission to tell him yourself before one of his FBI buddies could find out for themselves. However, hearing the admissions fall from your mouth did nothing to soothe Spencer's fear and anger. Fear, for your safety. Anger, for the knowledge that you lived in fear for the majority of your life. Anger, for the knowledge that the only thing separating you from your parents was a couple layers of cement and a cell door. He knew first hand just how ineffective prison can be for victims safety - if an unsub wanted to achieve something or other, all it took was speaking with the right person. He hated that he knew that.

Especially when he received a token in the mail.

A small parcel, barely the size of his palm. A little thin package addressed to Whom It May Concern. Assuming nothing of it, he opened it. You had already left for work, bidding him his goodbye kiss and promising a home cooked meal by the time he returned from the office. There was no sense in waiting until you were both home to open it, what if it was urgent?

And so he did.

And oh how he wished he never had.

There in his hand, sat a small polaroid of a child. At first, he didn't recognise you - for the ten years he had known you, and the five you spent living together, you have all but refused to dig up any childhood photographs. However, the longer he stared, the more he noticed your teary eyes. Your scrunched nose and furrowed brows. The same expression you wear to this day when you wake from a nightmare, when you watch a scary movie, and when you first told him of the horror house your parents ran. When you told him of the polaroids you were forced to take of your 'brothers' and 'sisters', and of your task of lugging those who disobeyed your mother to the crematorium.

Yet you'd failed to tell him that your picture was taken along with the other victims. That your little face had been a part of the morbid photo album which remained in the evidence case. Perhaps you didn't know? Did you even remember having this picture taken, you couldn't have been more than 7 years old. Spencer felt sick. Suddenly, it dawned on him what he was holding. How did he come to have this. Who had left this at your shared doorstep. They knew where you lived.

They knew where you lived.

He just about caught the bile in his throat before he felt his pocket buzz.

Struggling to pull his gaze from the omen in his hand, he reached for his phone and answered, failing to see the caller ID.

"Reid?"

"Yeah. Hotch I know, but I might be a bit late."

Before he could provide a half-assed excuse to buy himself some time - time to think on how he was to go about bringing this up to you and the team - Hotch beat him to it.

"Reid," His voice was solemn, yet calculated, "We've received a package. Well - JJ has."

"It's them Hotch."

The silence was pregnant. Deafening.

"I know."

--

Your foot shook, in a desperate attempt to self-soothe. The fluorescent glow of the BAU was straining your eyes, leaving a slight pound in your temples. However, the main focus of your stress induced headache remained on the ambiguity surrounding as to why David Rossi appeared at your work to escort you to Quantico. And why your boyfriend has locked himself and Aaron away in the conference room for the last forty minutes. You were scared. You couldn't let it show, you'd learnt that the hard way. But, in a room full of profilers, it was hard to hide - you were convinced that they could all genuinely smell fear.

In fact, your fear was so prominent, you failed to hear Morgan calling your name until he was crouched in front of you.

"How bout we go into Reid now, huh?" You met his eye only briefly.

Carefully, you chose your next words, "Will you all tell me what's going on?" Pleading with your eyes, Morgan felt his stomach twist.

"C'mon sweetheart."

You didn't take much convincing. All you wanted was Spencer, to curl up into him and forget all about this disruption to your day. Part of you began to wonder if you were being completely over dramatic and misreading the situation, maybe he had a surprise for you. A date? But you knew, in your gut you knew. They'd come back to haunt you. Why else would this dread be bubbling in your stomach?

Derek opened the door for you, leading you gently by the shoulder. There, you saw your boyfriend, bent over the table resting his hands on either side of what looked to me scraps of paper. His sleeves had been messily pushed up over his elbows, top button undone and his hair was tussled, a tell-tale sign that he had been pushing his hands through his curls. But for why? You still didn't truly know.

He looked up. His stomach dropped.

Wringing your fingers together, you stood before him with a sheepish look across your face. He knew you suspected something, something bad. And maybe you were right. It still didn't make telling you any easier.

"C'mere honey," He held his arm out to you, inviting you to slot into his chest, "Can you look at these with me? I'm right here."

You wished you'd stayed at work.

There on the table in front of you, sat three polaroids. One, you recognised to be Laney, the girl you had befriended for years. The photo, you had taken of her, as you had of all the others, to keep in an album. Why? You didn't know. Proof? Maybe a part of you knew that one day the horror would stop, and you'd need to show someone some day what had happened in your house. Someone had to remember all those who couldn't survive. Like your Laney.

The other two forced your head to bury itself into Spencer's chest; one, was of your bedroom, or rather your cell, and one of you. Little you. When it was taken, who had taken it? You weren't so sure. Laney? Your father? Everything was a fuzzy mess of guilt, shame and fear, so much so you couldn't remember the half of it.

The one thing you knew for certain, you remembered hating having that photo taken. For what reason? You couldn't place. But you did know that to this day, you still hated having your picture taken. That would never change.

"Where did you find these?" He almost missed your words completely, you spoke so softly, voice strained and distant.

A shaky breath left his lips.

"They found us angel, I'm so sorry."

Your heart lurched. Surely you had heard him wrong. You asked him, silently begging you had indeed misheard, but to your horror, that just was not the case.

Just then, JJ stepped forward, a small piece of paper outstretched to you, "Spence received the one of you at your home. We were sent the other two here, along with this note."

Shakily, you grasped for the paper, sparing Spencer a short glance before guiding your eyes to the words scrawled out in front of you.

Your old home address, a date and time. A demand for you to be there alone, or you would be 'collected' regardless of your showing up or not.

Your head spun, had it not been for Spencer's firm grasp around your waist, you were sure you'd have collapsed then and there.

Tears welled up as your eyes locked with his. His own frown matching the drop in your stomach.

They were back. You both knew it, and for once, Spencer didn't have all the answers.

[suncoved]

SALTWATER BLUES ! 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂ𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ

the prologue — rafe cameron

pairing; childhoodbestfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: she left him. in that house. in that town. alone. and he's never gonna let her forget it.

series masterlist!

The sun shone through the passenger seat window of your dad's driver, Al's, pristine black Porsche, burning your ear and face while you sat there allowing the pain to simmer.

You made no effort to move as the perfect houses of Figure 8 blended together to make one as your head span with the constant turning of the car. You hummed quietly as Al seemed to be saying many words, none of which made any sense in your current state.

As soon as you got off the plane to the mainland, boarded the ferry to Kildare, and met Al at the dock, it all seemed like a fever dream. A saltwater haze glossed itself over your eyes and mind as if nothing made sense to you anymore.

It was like it was only yesterday that your mom decided she had enough of having the responsibility of taking care of her daughter and was going to ship you off to your dad who hadn't seen you since you were 13, because well it was.

It was only yesterday.

6 years. It had been 6 years since you had been to The Outerbanks. 6 years since you had been to your hometown. 6 years since a certain dirty blonde-haired boy had watched his word slip through his hands like grains of sand through his fingertips.

Rafe Cameron wasn't Rafe Cameron without you. He had simply never known life without you. He hadn't even remembered anything of his life before you, albeit it was less than a year, but he knew. He knew that without you, he was simply a shell of a human being, soulless almost.

Ever since that fateful day that thirteen-year-old rafe had slammed the door to Tannyhill and ran the 20 or so meters to your neighbouring house.

He knocked on the door with the sequence of the secret passcode you both made up when you were six, even though you would never tell him you forgot it the day you made it up. Rafe pulled his balled fist back as the white door opened suddenly like someone was waiting for him.

He didn't understand why your father was at the door, he knew Rafe would also come to your house at this time every day in summer to come play.

"She's not here Rafe" Sincerity was laced in your father's tone as he looked down at the confused boy. "Where is she? I don't understand."

"Gone, kid. I'm sorry."

You were snapped back into consciousness as you heard the crunching of the gravel under the car, your father's home coming into full view in front of you. You knew you were about to draw blood from your bottom lip that you had been gnawing at ever since you arrived.

"Welcome home!"

You stood in the middle of your childhood home's doorframe, slightly jumping when your father popped out from the hallways that led to the lobby, enthusiastically yelling. You glanced around the foyer, bright words written on a banner etching 'Welcome Home!", with balloons and confetti scattered across the floor.

For a split second, you felt peace wash over you, though it was soon to be replaced by worry and anxiety.

"I missed you Bee" your father spoke, his arms engulfing your body as waves of memories were brought back from the childhood nickname. She was quick to hug back "I missed you too Dad" You couldn't help your mouth curling into a smile as you let go.

"Can I go up to my room and put my things away?" Your father waved his hand in reply, pointing towards the stairs before smiling and following Al out to the car to help with some of your stuff.

Being back in your room felt weird, though the balcony flashed in your eyes, an addition you had completely forgotten about. Dropping your bags in anticipation, you rushed to the glass doors, sliding them open. You had always loved the view of the outer banks, the glistening of the ocean and the sun that set upon the sky.

Your eyes locked on the large windows of the house in front of yours, a room that was far too familiar staring back at you. A messy bedroom was fully in your line of sight, the curtains not even slightly drawn.

Your eyes widened when you remembered who actually lived there, three boys walking into the space who you identified to be the trio that you had spent nearly all of your childhood with, Topper, Kelce and Rafe Cameron.

You quickly began to turn and walk back inside of your room, falling straight on your bed. Pulling one of your pillows to your face, you let out a loud groan into the fabric.

"Suck it up" you whispered to yourself, wiping away the salty tears that were now rolling down your face, as the memories flooded back.

You returned your gaze back to the balcony, standing up and walking over to the door. pausing for a moment, you contemplated whether or not it was worth it if Rafe saw you. You leaned your head against the door, sliding down the glass.

Though after everything, you were back in the obx, and there was nothing you could do about it. You just hoped you hadn't left too much damage on the teary-eyed dirty blonde you had left behind.

[olvxva]

emptiness / joost klein x reader

warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, cursing, crying (remember it's a pure fiction!!!)

summary: it was just a stupid mistake, right?

// 700 words

this day was a complete disaster. when you woke up in the morning and saw that your boyfriend still wasn’t home, you knew this day is not gonna be great. 

it wasn’t new that he didn’t come home, but it started to become a routine lately.

he was always saying that he was working on a new album and he needed to stay a little bit longer in a studio. you didn’t mind at first. but when you saw that one day one of his close friends posted a story of them partying in a club, you started to be a little suspicious about this whole situation. 

‚i should just stop overthinking this’ you thought. 

and you did. you got this topic out of your mind. 

yet it suddenly came back with a message that you received from some girl on instagram.

it was a simple photo - a photo of joost and a girl kissing - and just a short message after that: ‚they were seen yesterday. thought you should know’.

and you lost it. you felt betrayed and more alone than ever.

,how could he do that?’ was everything you could think of. 

and there you were - coming home with a cigarette between your lips, mascara under you eyes and a broken heart. it was raining hard but you really couldn’t care less.

you entered the building and you knew he was home by now. were you scared of seeing him? not anymore. you felt nothing really. pure emptiness. 

you opened the door and stepped inside your apartment. he was doing something in the kitchen, singing some song quietly.

you didn’t really wanna see him. he felt so distant all of a sudden. it was not your joost, not the man you loved.

you entered the kitchen quietly. he turned around when he heard you. his expression changed smoothly. he knew exactly what was going on. 

you just stand there looking at him, waiting for him to say something. you saw that he didn’t really know what to say. he looked like a lost puppy.

‚y/n…’ he got closer and took your face in his hands. you didn’t move a centimeter. you just froze.

he was looking at you with this gaze full of sorrow. you despised him. suddenly all that anger you pushed back, came right up.

‚you are a fucking liar. get out of my apartament right now.’ you stepped back not being able to bare his touch anymore.

‚y/n it’s not what you think, please.’ he grabbed your hand and you pulled it away immediately.

‚not what i think?! what the fuck do you even mean, joost? i saw that fucking picture, you were basically minutes from fucking her!’

‚it was nothing, baby, please. she was just some random groupie, okay?! you know i only love you..’ he got closer again and looked you straight in the eyes.

you loved those eyes so much. it was always your weak point when it came to him. but past tense was a key in this situation.

‚it’s over, joost. we are over.’ 

you went straight to the bathroom and locked yourself there. you started crying as hard as you never thought you could. joost went just after you and all you could hear was his voice from the other side of the door.

‚y/n, please, i love you so much. it was a stupid mistake, stupid fucking mistake, okay? i can’t loose you, not after everything that we went through. you hear me? i won’t leave, y/n. i can’t do it.’

now you were both separated only by the thin panel of the bathroom door. single sobs being heard from both of you. 

suddenly bathroom door opened and joost stood up as fast as he could. you looked at him with eyes still full of tears.

‚pack your things and send someone to get the rest later. i’m going out and when i come back, i wish not to see you here.’

he watched as you put your shoes on and left with only a pack of cigarettes in your hand. you didn’t look at him once. 

he felt hopeless and he finally realized that it was indeed very over now.

[thestarry-nights]

i need you close.

fluff / wc: 1.1k

“woah! chill y/n how many shots have you had already?”

that’s a good question. you honestly don’t remember. in fact, you have no clue who is even speaking to you right now. you turn your head towards the figure standing next to you and you see that it’s your best friend jaemin.

“i don’t know jae, maybe 3-4? i can’t remember” you replied, turning your head back around to lay on the bar table.

you can already sense jaemin’s eye-roll. he then grabs your hand and places it over his shoulder and helps you stand on your feet.

“come on, let’s go home,” he said, “you’ve had enough fun tonight.”

you whined at his words. you didn’t want to leave, the night has only just begun. but, you knew if you fought with him you’d only end up even more fucked up then you already are. jaemin helped guide you to his car and even carried your heels because he knew they were hurting your feet.

when you arrived at his car, jaemin placed you in the passenger seat and strapped you in. he heard you mumble something but didn’t think to investigate it further. he then put your address into the gps and started to drive.

your apartment was about 10-15 minutes from the club you guys were just at. jaemin didn’t expect you to drink so much right away. you both decided to go out for some fun after a really stressful week of exams but he didn’t imagine you had this much stress. then again, he should have expected it.

for as long as he could remember jaemin knew you tried hard in school. due to your parents immigrating here from another country, he knew you studied so hard because you didn’t want their migration to be for nothing.

jaemin admired and hated you for that. he loved the way it helped you develop your stubbornness, which you truly are stubborn, and your determination to get things done.

as jaemin pulled into the parking lot of your apartment he turned to scan your body and assumed you were probably asleep. he got out of the car, closed the door, and walked to your side to help you get out. he noticed you were fast asleep and was probably going to struggle waking you up.

jaemin then unbuckled the seat belt and carried you “bridal style” towards your apartment. jaemin has been to your place maybe three times since you moved here but he already has a good understanding of the layout.

luckily, your apartment was on the first floor so he didn’t have to worry about carrying you up stairs (not that it would effect him anyways) he then reached into the pocket of your jacket and grabbed your keys. he unlocked the door and kicked it open with his foot.

walking into the apartment, jaemin noticed it smelled like you, a warm scent, of vanilla and cherry. he kicked the door shut and locked it before placing your keys in the little bowl you have next to your coat rack.

jaemin then carried you to your bedroom and laid you down on your bed. he’s assuming you maybe slightly woke up while walking in because you shifted yourself closer to the pillows and sighed.

jaemin laughed quietly and then placed your shoes back into your closet. he then sat beside your laying body in the bed, looking at you. he didn’t know you were this stressed out. you wish you would have told him about your troubles, instead of turning to alcohol, but that is why you guys went out after all.

jaemin hovered over you and pressed a kiss on your forehead before slicking some of your hair behind your ears.

“goodnight y/n” jaemin said. he was about to stand up and walk to your living room to sleep in there. but you stopped him by holding onto his hand. this surprised him, and he looked at you in confusion.

“please, sleep with me jae” you managed to mumble out. jaemin smiled slightly and then walked around the bed to sit on the other side. he took off his shoes and placed them next to your bedside table and laid next to you. you felt his body on the bed and rolled over next to him and wrapped your hands around his body.

jaemin is once again confused. you’ve never acted like this with him when you’re drunk. usually you’re cursing him out or slapping him.

“jae”

this interrupted jaemin’s thoughts. he turns his eyes to look at your weary eyes staring at him. “what is it?” he asks.

“i love you”

jaemin doesn’t know what to say. yes maybe deep down trying not to acknowledge it he’s also had feelings for you but he never wished to pursue them in case you didn’t like him back. but hearing you say you love him shot fireworks all over his body.

“i think it’s the alcohol in your body y/n, just go to bed” jaemin said.

you placed your hand on his cheek and caressed it with your thumb. “no,” you say, “i mean it. i always have, ever since we were in middle school. i just, i just didn’t want to say because you got with winter that same year.”

the memory comes flooding back into jaemin’s mind. in seventh grade a girl named winter asked jaemin to be her boyfriend. originally jaemin had no feelings for this girl, but his other friends jeno and haechan told him it was stupid to reject her, so he accepted it and they went out until the end of middle school.

“you should’ve told me, i would’ve left her for you.”

you smile. your weary eyes turn soft as you stare at jaemin. he’s also staring back at you, eyes shifting to all the parts of your face. then, you suddenly feel the urge and courage to do what happens next.

you slowly lift your face off the bed and place your lips on jaemin’s. if fireworks were going off in jaemin’s body before they definitely are again now. he kisses back and it softens. you develop a tingling feeling in your stomach as he kisses you.

you pull away and cover your face causing jaemin to laugh and move your hands.

“i love you too y/n” jaemin says, “but you really need to go to sleep, i’ll be here when you wake up.

jaemin kisses your forehead once again and brings you in close to him. as you both drift off to sleep as elated as can be.

A/N: i hope this wasn’t boring for you guys. to be honest im not sure how to feel about this but i think its cute.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 70

Jaskier is the worst roommate Geralt could ever ask for. He comes home at odd hours of the night, constantly makes noise and chatter, and he brings home random strangers almost every damn night. It'll be three in the morning when Jaskier stumbles in, drunk off his ass, heeled shoes loudly clicking against their floor as he meanders about, squinting and knocking things over. At least he has the decency to mumble "Sorry" every time he breaks something, but is he apologizing to Geralt, or apologizing to the damn mop? He talks to himself, he sings to himself, he sings as a hobby, he sings as a job, he plays his lute/guitar loudly all throughout the day and night, he even talks in his damn sleep. Constant humming, singing, talking, muttering, whispering. Hookups and flings and fuckbuddies galore, both women and men. Not that Geralt cares, it was just something he observed. They'd steal his food, or use up the shower when Geralt was meant to be getting ready for work, or they'd leave and keep the door unlocked. The worst was when Jaskier's bachelor of the night mistook Geralt's bedroom for Jaskier's bedroom and very happily cozied up and went to sleep in Geralt's bed. Naked. Geralt didn't even care if he was high, drunk, or just dumb, he threw him out all the same. When Geralt's girlfriend, Yennefer, breaks up with him, he is comforted by Jaskier of all people. Coming home tipsy and without a shirt, and yet still sitting down next to Geralt and giving him a thoughtful, long, deep pep-talk. Maybe he isn't all bad, after all. Geralt is the worst roommate Jaskier could ever ask for. Don't get Jaskier wrong, Geralt is unbelievably easy on the eyes, but that's pretty much all he has. Geralt always looms silently in the dark, offers brutal remarks at best and grunts at worst, and for some reason always has a little blood on him. It'll be three in the morning when Jaskier stumbles in, drunk off his ass, and Geralt will just walk out of the shadows with an insanely deep "Did you remember to lock the door?", scaring the bleeding daylights out of him! He walks quieter than a damn cat! He should wear a bell like one! Fuck's sakes! Geralt's ~lovely~ comments are always harsh but sadly never truly unprompted. Jaskier will get stuck on a line and ask aloud for help, momentarily forgetting his only recent company has been Geralt, and Geralt will sometimes oblige him with an answer, such as "Can you shut up for five minutes?" "It's too late for this shit." "I hate it." So on and so forth. Jaskier learns to stop asking... Mostly. Jaskier went to shave one time, and found blood in the sink. He looked over at Geralt and asked him if he had cut himself shaving. Geralt said no. Jaskier REASONABLY asked why there had been blood in the sink, and got the answer "Work." WORK?????? "And your job is what?! BLEEDING INTO SINKS!?" and yet Geralt was already walking out the door. But then one night he comes home, to find Geralt waiting for him - Silently, alone in the dark, just sat there. Like always. Weirdo. - demanding his half of the rent. Fuck. Fuck, Jaskier completely forgot- Jaskier starts panicking. He explains how he doesn't have the money, that some of his latest gigs have backed out on him or refused him pay for bullshit reasons and he didn't earn as much as he expected to, and begs to not be kicked out. He's surprised when Geralt calms him down from his spiral, and tells him to take a deep breath and wash away his tears - Shit, when did he start crying? - He comes back and Geralt sits him down and explains he'll cover the entire rent this month, his work had gone extra well recently. He knows what it's like for people to pull out pay or suddenly ignore your deal, and won't hold it against Jaskier, but expects him to be able to pay next time. Jaskier is so overjoyed he hugs Geralt. And Geralt lets him. Maybe he isn't all bad, after all.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Congrats on 1k!!

for the ask game!

J: “dont touch me, get away from me”

in Someone who cares

hurt/comfort

book

and if I can make a special request that Eddie is the hurt party?

Thank you so much! 🥰 Always thrilled to write more about my favorite family.

Some dreams come true

Words: 954

Rated: G

Tags: Modern AU; No UD AU; Established relationship; Married Steddie; Steve is Dustin’s dad; Author Eddie; Hurt/comfort; Fluff

Notes: Set in the same universe as Someone who cares

“Eddie?” Dustin knocks on the door of the study. It’s slow and hesitant, and that alone is enough to tell Steve that the kid was not exaggerating when he called and told him to get home immediately. “It’s me. I’ve brought Dad. Please open the door?” 

There’s no answer. 

“Damn,” Steve murmurs. “What the hell happened?” 

Dustin scowls.

“No idea. He opened that package that arrived for him, and then he went all silent and weird and locked himself in there, like- … oh, do you think it’s a bomb?” 

“A what?” Steve squawks. “What the fuck, Dustin? Of course it’s not a- who’d even send us a bomb?” 

“Dunno, grandpa?” Dustin is wibbling in his spot, weirdly elated with the notion. “He must still be pretty damn pissed, right? I mean, last time you saw him, Eddie punched him in the-” 

Steve groans. “Jesus Christ, Dustin, I promise it's not a bomb. Go do your homework or whatever, I'll handle this.” 

Dustin deflates, but sulks off towards his room, grumbling under his breath. Steve sighs and turns back to the door.

“Eds? I'm not leaving, just so you know.” 

For a few seconds, everything stays silent. Then, something shuffles and footsteps approach. The lock clicks, but the door doesn't open. When Steve steps into the tiny room, Eddie is already back in his desk chair, elbows bracketed on his knees, head almost level with his hands. He's holding something. A book.

A familiar mix of feelings stirs in Steve's guts. Alarm. Worry. The overwhelming need to find out who hurt his husband and slowly tear them limb from limb.

“Eddie? What's-” 

“Don't touch me. Get away from me.” 

Eddie doesn't raise his voice. Steve catches himself wishing he had, because the quiet brokenness of the words is somehow infinitely more scary. His feet stop dead in their tracks, halfway between Eddie and the door. From where he's standing, he recognizes the book Eddie has in his hand. 

“Author's copies arrived,” Eddie says, almost as if he read his mind. His head jerks weakly at the package sitting by his feet, holding a stack of identical books, all bearing Eddie’s name on the cover. 

“But…” Steve mutters while his brain is still parsing through the situation. “But that's amazing, honey. You've been looking forward to this so long, why-” 

“I know,” Eddie groans. The book flops to the ground as he brings his hands up to cup his own face. “I was. I am. It's just that …” 

He exhales a long, shaky breath. 

“It's all real now, Stevie. It's here. And- … and next week, it's gonna be in stores, and everybody will be able to pick one up and what if it sucks? I've been dreaming of this for as long as I can think of, but that's all it was - a dream. But now … I dunno, I'm just … I'm scared.” 

“Hey,” Steve whispers, sinking to his knees to bring them face level. “Hey, look at me.” 

Eddie does, big brown eyes peering out from between long fingers. Steve chuckles, reaching for those hands to pull them down into Eddie’s lap. 

“Do you remember the pizza party?” 

Eddie blinks at him. “Huh? What are you-” 

“That was the first time I wanted to kiss you. I had only known you for a few weeks, but somehow, I was already falling in love with you.” Steve smiles, running his fingers over the familiar shape of Eddie's hands and arms, tracing the black ink of his tattoos. “I didn't do it then. Do you know why?” 

“Because Mike puked on your sofa?” 

“Yes,” Steve says automatically. Sputters. “I mean no. I mean- God, you're such an asshole.” 

Eddie’s mouth twitches. Steve sighs. 

“The reason I didn't do it,” he clarifies, “was because I was scared. Because I thought I'd rather spend a lifetime dreaming of having you than turning it into a reality and somehow messing it up. But you know what?” 

“Hm?” Eddie hums, melting into him as Steve leans in to touch their foreheads together. “What's that, love?” 

Steve smiles at the pet name, pressing a kiss to the dimple at the corner of Eddie’s mouth. 

“I'm so incredibly fucking glad we got our shit together in the end,” he says. “Because the reality of it is so much better than anything I ever could've imagined.”

“So much fucking better,” Eddie whispers against his lips, and then neither of them says anything for a while. When they pull out of the kiss, Steve presses the fallen book into Eddie’s hands. 

“This'll be fantastic,” he promises, smoothing over the wrinkle in Eddie’s brow with his lips before he can argue. “You just wait. Now, come down and help me with dinner? Dustin’s convinced you have a bomb in here.” 

Eddie snorts a laugh and stands from his chair, carefully putting the book back with the others before slipping his hand into Steve’s. “What, seriously? And here you are, wondering why I’m doubting myself. With the things that kid comes up with, he should be the author in this family, not me. A bomb, fucking hell!” 

Steve laughs softly as they make their way down the stairs. “You just wait until that book blows up and it turns out he was right.” 

“Yeah, as if,” Eddie says, but there’s no bitterness left in his voice. He smacks a noisy kiss to Steve’s temple, pulling him into the kitchen with a dorky spin and twirl. “Keep dreaming, honey.” 

He definitely will, Steve thinks as they get to work between a constant stream of bickering and kisses. His dreams have a habit of becoming true, after all, and he's no longer afraid of that. 

More celebration ficlets

[holylulusworld]

Cabin at the lake (2)

Summary: You have a much-needed vacation. There’s only one problem…

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Assistant!Reader

Warnings: SB being an ass, tension, arguments, vacation hijacking (is that a thing?), sexual themes (talk about), misogynism

A/N: Another drabble.

Cabin at the lake (1)

While you are still fuming, Soldier Boy cocks his head and yawns loudly. If you didn’t mishear, he farted in your company too. Well, at least you’re outside; the fresh air will help you.

“Didn’t you forget something, sweetness?” Soldier Boy blinks his eyes open to look at you with these piercing green eyes.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” you huff and cross your arms over your chest. If he hijacks your vacation, he can eat shit. You won’t follow his orders within the next fourteen days. “I guess you forgot that I’m still on vacation.”

“You don’t get to just go on vacation while people out there need me,” Soldier Boy huffs. “You shouldn’t be so selfish, Y/N. What’d people think about you, hearing you go on a vacation while everyone out there suffers.”

You square your jaw. This man is the epitome of selfishness.

“You are the hero, not me,” you say instead of everything burning your tongue. “I’m a mere employee, getting your coffee and sending your one-nighters home. You cannot expect me to be around three hundred sixty-five days a year.”

“Three-hundred sixty-six days this year,” he grins at you. “Now, get me my omelet. I’m hungry. And you better not forget the good stuff. I need something to smoke and a drink.”

“I do not smoke,” you snap at your boss. “I hope you don’t expect me to have drugs at my cabin either.”

“I know you are a bad girl hiding the good stuff from me,” Soldier Boy suddenly jumps up to stalk toward you. “I’ll go for a swim. When I get out, I want that omelet, sweetness. If I do not smell eggs soon, you will not sit properly for a week.”

“You’ve got to be shitt—” Your words die in your throat watching Soldier Boy get out of his suit. He smirks when you open your mouth, but no words come out. He’s shamelessly walking around naked. “What are you doing? You’ll scare the fishes.”

“Well then, I’ll catch a few and you can cook them for me,” he turns around to show you his naked ass. “I still want the eggs, though.”

“You’ve got two dangling between your legs. How about you eat them.” You chuckle at your stupid joke. “I won’t cook for you. You better leave my ground.” You turn around and stalk toward the cabin.

If he won’t leave, you’ll simply lock him out.

“I heard that!” He calls after you. “Yeah, that’s a good girl. Going inside to cook for her man.”

You stop in your tracks to turn around and give him the finger. “Fuck. YOU!”

Storming inside your cabin you slam the door shut, locking it. If you would’ve thought this through, you’d remember that he’d simply burst the door open. Right now, you are too angry and pissed to even think straight.

“He can’t just come here and ruin my vacation!”

You hear a loud bang, wood splits and the door falls to the ground with a loud thud. Now seconds later, Soldier Boy casually walks inside your cabin, still naked. He carries the door he ripped out of its angles tugged under his arm.

“Fuck, the water is perfect,” he drops the door to the ground, making you flinch. “Did you believe for one second this will keep me out?” He furrows his brows while searching your face.

“I had hoped you’ve got some decency left and won’t go any further,” you throw your hands up. “I can’t believe you came here to order me around during my well-deserved vacation.”

“Well-deserved?” He snickers. “You’d only ever deserve vacation if you sucked my dick good. Getting me coffee and shit doesn’t make you a good employee.”

“You are so…infuriating!” You throw your teacup at him. He laughs when it hits him right in the chest, only to fall to the ground. “I wish I could just throw you out of my life…wait…” You suddenly realize there is a way to get rid of him. “I quit.”

You suddenly can breathe again. You’re giddy and jump up and down. Even though you’ve got no job any longer, you feel much better.

“Now get off my lawn.”

“Hah, that’s even better,” Soldier Boy stalks toward you with a big grin on his face. “Now HR won’t go after my balls when I ruin your sweet cunt…”

Part 3

Tags in reblog.

[seventeenreasonswhy]

SVT's S/O Comes Home Drunk! 🤭

SFW / Nothing explicit, just SVT being (mostly) sweet!

OT13!Seventeen x GN!Reader

OT13 reacts to their partner coming home drunk after a party/drinks with friends or coworkers! Partner is... horny! And silly! Teehee.

Warnings/Content: SFW, fluff (I guess?), mentions of alcohol/alcohol consumption ofc, some members are more protective/possessive than others ... sorry!

Author's note: I just love imagining these boys in little situations, you know? Is it obvious who my biases are? Perhaps. Does that matter? Not to me! 😈 Enjoy! 🤗

S.Coups

Honestly, he's kind of pissed off? He’s feeling protective of you. As you drape yourself all over him in your cute, drunken state, his mind can’t help but imagine you behaving like this and being all touchy-feely with whoever you were drinking with. He gets low key jealous! You can tell he’s upset, which makes you pout, but he gets over it once you start spouting silly drunken nonsense. After he collects himself, he focuses on taking care of you. His jealousy is something he has to work to manage for the sake of your guys’ relationship!

Jeonghan

Sooo amused, lol. He would take videos of you being so drunk and silly to show you/tease you about in the morning. You would sloppily kiss him and in your charged state, you'd even attempt to take things further, but he knows that you’re too drunk to really focus. Plus, he doesn’t feel right about doing that kind of stuff with you when you’re this drunk. He is so sweet about it though, allowing some kissing, and subtly inching you toward the bedroom (to tuck you in! lol).

Joshua

Also finds you soooo cute in this state! He would def take videos and send them to your guys’ closest friends, earning some laugh-crying emojis and commands to put you to bed lol. He would be so sweet tucking you in, and he'd make sure there were hangover cures ready to go in the morning. He finds you being horny when you’re drunk adorable, but he restrains himself. (Gentleman!)

Jun

Bewildered. Help him, someone, please. He was already asleep when you came crashing in so he’s kind of like, “Oh boy here we go...” but once you pounce on him, locking lips in a passionate kiss, he feels... differently. He would not mind having some quick drunken sex with you late at night. If he's being completely honest, he's actually kind of turned on by how uninhibited you’re being.

Hoshi

Over the moon. Ecstatic. Elated. Giddy. No word can really capture the feeling he gets when you’re this drunk and cute! And horny, too!? What more could he ask for? You two are insane when you’re both drunk, to the point where your friends actively try to avoid that situation—trying to covertly cut one of you off when you're all out together before you both get unmanagable. So, it’s something of a relief for him that it’s not him who’s being all drunk and silly for once. He definitely teases you and starts getting really clingy, seeing if you’ll pounce on him (which you do!).

Wonwoo

He doesn't want to, and he probably wouldn't say anything about it, but he feels protective and worried! As soon as you stumble through the door, he’s wondering how you got so drunk, who you were with, how you got home... so many questions start spinning through his mind. But his mind goes blank when you wrap your arms around his neck and look up at him so red-faced and cute. He can’t help but smile at you being so clingy. You try to initiate some making out but he’s not quite in the mood for that. He's too sweet to outright reject you, so he indulges a little bit. But he doesn’t love to get it on with you when you’re drunk because he’s afraid you’ll get hurt somehow, or not remember it which makes him feel bad. Both “w”s in Wonwoo stand for ‘worrier!” 

Woozi

Taken aback! At a loss! A bit overwhelmed! He’s not very crazy when he’s drunk, he’s a much more subdued drunk. So, seeing you with so much energy makes him unsure how to handle things, haha. And then you start kissing him, which is... great. Haha. It’s great! He loves kissing you! And you’re not being shy about it at all, which is cute. He would probably stop things before they got too far, but he would make out with you and feel you up a little in this state.

The8

He's finds your drunken habit of being cute and saucy so endearing, haha. He would be very sweet, making sure that you drink plenty of water before bed, indulging your kisses but not going further, tucking you in... he just loves you and is genuinely happy that you had such a fun night.

Mingyu

Haha, he finds your drunken state sooo cute he can hardly contain himself, but he pretends to be sulky about this behavior to tease you! Also, let's be real, he gets really bad FOMO when you come home like this! He didn’t get to drink and have fun with his baby! But you’re so funny to him when you’ve lost your composure like this. Usually he’s the big baby in your relationship so it’s fun for him to see you so whiney and clingy as he teases you for having fun without him. You drunkenly suggest that you make it up to him in the bedroom, and he says he is very tempted, but just softly brushes your hair out of your face and promises to let you do whatever you want to him when you’re more sober.

DK

He thinks you’re beyond funny and adorable when you’re drunk! He honestly doesn’t see you very drunk that often, so he really savors the times that you let down your guard like this! He asks you all kinds of silly questions and laughs so hard at your cute answers, his smile never leaving his face. He can’t stop petting/touching you, and you get carried away snuggling into him. You start to kiss his neck aggressively, which turns him on like crazy, but he stops you before you go any further, saying that his princess needs some water and some sleep first. (He will absolutely destroy your pussy in the morning tho...)

Seungkwan

Reluctantly charmed by you being like this, but also low key worried about how you may have acted towards whoever you were out drinking with. He wants to have your touchy-feely side all to himself! He would put a gentle stop to any kissing/physical intimacy you may try to initiate. Even in your drunken state you can tell something is bothering him, but you’re too far gone to try to deal with it so you start masturbating out of spite instead, which makes him scoff at how much of a brat you can be. But before long he caves and helps you finish by eating you out. He will be kind of passive aggressive toward you in the morning tho... Takes a brat to recognize another brat. ;)

Vernon

He goes into caretaking mode immediately. He'd smile at how cute and ridiculous you're being, for sure, but as soon as you wrap your arms around him, he's picking you up and carrying you to bed. You giggle about this, pulling him down on top of you and trying to get him to stay with you and help you vent some of the sexual frustration you're feeling with the help of all that liquid courage, but he just kisses you sweetly, and then gives you a look of utmost seriousness as tells you that you need to drink water and sleep more than anything else. But he would absolutely stay with you until you fell asleep!

Dino

Why he is not drunk with you is anyone's guess but he goes all-in on teasing you! He thinks you’re such a funny drunk. He would def be taking videos to show you in the morning that would make you cringe. He thinks its so cute though!! He would also not hesitate if you wanted to fuck, he feels like you two trust each other enough to do it even when one of you is kind of wasted. Plus you will not stop crawling on top of him, what is he supposed to do!?

[iovebarca]

La Roja - Fermín Lopez

Authors note: why do schools feel the need to give sm work when the weather is nice

WC: 700+

warnings: incorrect grammar (probably), my first language isn't english so if you notice any mistakes please tell me, fluff.

send me requestsss 🫶🫶

You sit on the edge of the sofa, phone clutched tightly in your hand, eyes flicking from the muted television to the closed door of your shared apartment. Your heart races with a mixture of anticipation and hope. Fermín, your boyfriend, has been waiting for this moment his entire life, and you’ve been waiting right alongside him.

The past weeks have been a whirlwind of tension and excitement. Every time the phone rang, both of you would jump, hoping it was the call from de la Fuente himself. You’ve seen Fermín play his heart out on the field, every match an audition, every goal and assist a plea to be noticed.

Today, though, feels different. There’s a buzz in the air, a kind of electricity that makes the hairs on your arms stand up. Fermín left for training this morning with a determined look in his eyes, more focused than usual, if that’s even possible.

As you glance at the clock, you realize he’s due back any minute now. You stand, unable to sit still, pacing the room. The TV, still on mute, shows highlights from last night’s games. You spot Fermín in one of the clips, effortlessly dodging defenders and setting up the winning goal. A smile spreads across your face, pride swelling in your chest.

The sound of keys jangling in the lock snaps you back to the present. The door swings open, and there he is—Fermín, your Fermín. His usually confident stride is hesitant, and his expression unreadable. Your heart skips a beat as he steps inside.

“Hey,” you say softly, trying to gauge his mood. He looks up at you, and for a moment, you can’t read his eyes.

Then, slowly, a smile breaks across his face, growing wider until he’s grinning from ear to ear. “I got the call,” he says, voice trembling with excitement and disbelief.

You let out a scream of joy, launching yourself into his arms. He catches you, laughing, spinning you around in a jubilant dance. “You did it! You really did it!”

“I can’t believe it,” he murmurs into your hair, holding you close. “I’m going to play for Spain.”

You pull back to look at him, tears of happiness in your eyes. “I knew you would. I’ve always known.”

The two of you collapse onto the sofa, still holding each other tightly. He tells you about the call, about how the coach praised his performance and dedication. You listen, hanging on every word, your heart soaring with pride.

As Fermín talks, your mind drifts back to when you first saw him play. He was just a teenager then, full of raw talent and unrefined skill. You remember the muddy fields and cold mornings, the way he would practice for hours, driven by a dream. You stood by him, cheering at every match, nursing his bruises, and celebrating his victories. Each step he took, you were there, his biggest fan and unwavering support.

“We should celebrate,” you say, jumping up. You decide to cook his favorite meal, filling the apartment with the rich, comforting scents of home-cooked food. Fermín calls his parents, his voice animated as he shares the news. Later, you both head out to your favorite spot in the city, a little ice cream parlour with a view of the sea, to toast to his success under the starlit sky.

The conversation naturally drifts to what comes next. The training camps, the matches, the possibility of playing in the Eurocopa. You discuss the logistics, the travel, and the new routines you’ll both need to adapt to. There’s excitement in the uncertainty, a sense of adventure in the new chapter unfolding before you. Fermín squeezes your hand, promising that no matter how busy things get, you’ll always come first.

Back at home, you give him a small, wrapped box. Inside is a bracelet with a simple charm—a small football and a heart intertwined. “For luck,” you say, fastening it around his wrist. He pulls you close, his eyes soft with gratitude. “I couldn’t have done this without you,” he whispers, and you know he means it.

As the evening fades into night, you talk about the future, your dreams intertwined. Through it all, Fermín keeps one arm around you, as if he can’t bear to let you go.

[doctordeathawaits]

do you mayhaps have any transstalked tips?

-🐾

TRANS - STALKED . . .

Being aware of your surroundings . When going outside , always look around you and note specific things , how many people ? How many exits ? If something were to happen , where is the quickest get away ? Go a step further and keep a small book , every time you sit down in a new area ( like the bus / train , classrooms , cafes ) you write down the important details you see . Visualizing someone else being there at all times can help , writing down that there is a reoccurring person . Rereading these logs and seeing the pattern of a person seemingly always there can help .

Be weary of what you post online . What if that person is following you on everything ? every little thing about you . When posting a picture , be weary of every person that likes . Be suspicious of EVERYBODY .

Be cautious when going out with people . Classmate asked you to go grab a drink ? While you can go , quite suspicious of them isn't it ? . . Friend wants to go shopping ? Sure , but what are the possibilities that they just want to see what you like ? Question everybody , while you can enjoy things , never let your guard down .

Visualization ; when walking around , you can have an ear bud in one ear and on a low volume play footstep sounds to visualized that you're being followed . Have the feeling of ' protecting your home ' , so when going to sleep , you can close the blinds so no one can look , always be paranoid about locking doors , ect . When in class or at work , you can have an ear bud in one ear and at a low volume play random camera shudders . Here's a youtube link .

For euphoria ; there are fake message apps where you can set up messages to come in at specific times . You can customize it so it looks like an anon number , messaging you things about you or ' worrying ' messages . If willing for a couple of cents / dollars , you can get a fake insta / fb bot that comments on your photos , on some sites you can customize these accounts .

Lastly , remember to have loved and trusted ones during and after your transition < 3 Happy transitioning and stay safe < 3

[hoiststowline]

mercy's shore

ratchet x female!reader

originally posted on my ao3 here!

"What is the point of having your number if you never pick up the fragging phone?" Startled, your hold on the device wavers as you yank it away from your ear, his volume loud and displeased. "I've been trying to contact you all damn morning, where have you been?" 

His grouchiness overlays his concern, but it's not as heavy as it normally is, bearable to a wide extent. "Sorry. I got caught up with something, but I have a free minute. What's up?"

Ratchet sputters, and his engine revs theatrically in the background alerting you that he's driving, likely on the way to your house. "Oh, you can spare me a minute?" That may not have been the best sentence to say, even in your delirious state. "And you got 'caught up with something?' y/n, that is probably the poorest excuse I've ever heard, and trust me, I've heard it all." 

Your nose wrinkles, carefully surveying your options in the next reply you dare provide. It would appear no matter what you said unless it was the plain truth, it would not satisfy the doctor. "I...can I try again?" It comes out eventually, meek and stifled with exhaustion alongside a bout of attempted humor. 

"Can you what?!" Wrong choice slapping you profoundly in the face, the phone moves apart from your ear as he shouts. "Did you hit your head? What the scrap is the matter with you?" 

Sighing, you stand off the couch, hesitantly bringing the phone back to your ear, achy joints expecting his anger to flare once more. "It's been a long day," You start, pausing in case he decides to interject. "I was sleeping when you called, I really am sorry."

"It is only two in the afternoon," It's quieter, but still overmuch alarmed. "And sleeping? This isn't like you. I know your schedule very well, you don't take your 'naps' at this time of day." The fact that Ratchet claims to know your schedule is amusing, but you don't have the energy to tease him for the sentiment. 

"I was-" You move around the furniture, heading into the kitchen for a glass of water. "I was tired, Ratch. I didn't get much sleep last night." Part of you questioned if divulging the medic was the best idea, for he would only insist upon checking you over and monitoring your symptoms if he found any. 

"And why is that? Assignments, or work-related activities?" Unable to remember the last time you felt such fatigue, the only thing you wanted at this very moment was to go back to sleep, alone, in a dark room. "It better not have been to watch garbage on television." 

"That doesn't matter." You start, knowing what comes next. 

"It does." Going to argue back, you spin to the window in the kitchen as the tell-tale sound of a truck coming down the road reaches your ears. "Open the garage, now. I'm outside."

Groaning, the line clicks dead, leaving no option available to defend the idea that you were fine. You could hide, and claim you weren't home, but you know he's seen your car in the driveway already, and he wouldn't leave until he saw you. With dread, you watch the red and white ambulance pull onto the pavement, radiating the vibe that you were really in for it this afternoon. 

"Hi Ratchet," Your palm hits the button that opens the garage door, exasperation filling your tone as he pulls inside. "So kind of you to say you were dropping by."

"Hush up, I've just about had it with your nonsense." He doesn't mean it, because he wouldn't be here if he did. "If you run and lock yourself inside like last time, I will throw something at you." 

The idea had crossed your mind, but you knew it was all in vain, even if you did try such an escape. "Yeah, okay. I'll just remember to wash you with paint stripper next time around." 

"That is not funny." His passenger-side door pops open, impatience showing clear as day. "Get in y/n. And it's not a request." 

Your hand squeezes into a fist, but relents, knowing you were at the end of a losing battle. "Fine. Can I go get my bag, at least?"

As if he was anticipating you to quarrel with him, Ratchet begins his sentence without thinking. "I just said-!" When he processes your words, his voice box spatters, followed by an ex-vent. "Very well. But don't try anything, I'll be waiting." 

You disappear back through the interior garage door, back into your kitchen, and out of Ratchet's line of sight. In his initial investigation, your outward appearance seemed normal, with no obvious signs of trauma or injury. Still, you did have an aura of distress and melancholy, even if you were bickering with him habitually. Ratchet reviews his options, mindful of what he understood was the best solution to your long day, and after a few kliks pass, you return to the garage, bag on your shoulder as you close the door over behind you. 

"Told you I'd be right back," Shuffling around the ambulance, you step up into his cabin, sliding into the seat as the door swings shut. 

"I have validation for my wariness." His center console blinks as he speaks. "If you must sleep, go ahead. I'll be quiet."

"I'm good," Head tilting back, you're met with the soft beige of the headrest, and seatbelt clicking over your waist. "I'm sure you'll give me a run for my money when we get back to the base, so I'll sleep after." 

"You're lucky that I don't understand that idiom, or I'd probably leave you on the side of the road." Another jab he has no intention of following through with. "Are you going to discuss then why you are so exhausted? And don't give me the scrap about how you didn't sleep well. I know that. I want to know what was keeping you up."

The urge to scream at him 'You aren't my doctor' is nearly irresistible. You physically have to bite your lip, staring out the window with declination in your body language, but you have to take a step back to confront the larger picture. Ratchet hardly ever left the base, and it appears this journey was made entirely on your behalf, but the reason you felt so coddled and overwhelmed was because he was demonstrating compassion the only way he knew how. Ratchet was a worrier at heart, and him coming out here because he couldn't get ahold of you made guilt settle in the bottom of your stomach. 

"I know you're not ignoring me, y/n." His voice is flat as the seat nudges your back. "You're on such thin ice, I-"

"I'm sorry." It comes out a bit more warble than you intend, watching as his rearview mirror tilts downwards to look at you. "I was up all night overthinking. My brain was going a hundred miles a minute, I-" Your voice hitches, swallowing down a sob that rises in your throat. "You were only trying to help. I'm sorry." 

Ratchet doesn't reply immediately, but the mirror doesn't move from its position. Eventually, he ex-vents, and you can picture him hanging his helm in a defeated manner, unsure of what he could possibly say to make you feel better. 

"I should have just told you." You say quietly, looking back out the window. "It really has been a long day, but I'm okay now, Ratch. I swear, I would never lie to you."

"I know that." It's insistent, but he cannot get the image of you near tears out of his processor. "I would still like to review your vitals back on base, just to make sure you truly are fine."

A soft smile crawls onto your rosy cheeks, nodding twice. "Sure, if it'll give you better piece of mind."

"You're going to be the death of me yet, y/n." Your window rolls down halfway, enjoying the breeze that hits your face. "Would you rest better at the base, or shall I take you back home after the evaluation?" 

"Are you going to take a nap with me?" You blink, silently begging him to say yes. 

"That wasn't an option." He comes to a stop at a red light. "You have two. Pick one."

"You asked where I would sleep better?" Ratchet knows he shouldn't entertain this, but he dares to answer. 

"Yes. Pick one, or I'll pick for you." He makes the left turn as the light switches green. 

"In your arms," A pout overcomes your face as he barks a laugh, obviously unamused. 

"Forget I asked. I'm taking you back home straight after." The pout melds into a scowl, but you relent, leaning back into his seat as the two of you roll down desert roads. You knew you could do better damage at the base, eyelids drooping as a yawn builds in your mouth. Maybe you would be able to better convince him in person, but for now, you take it with stride as the cool afternoon air swipes across your face. 

[2-dsimp]

I there a certain day of the week where senpai's home isn't safe? If so, does it occur randomly?

Senpai’s house isn’t safe whenever an admirer has reached the max point of insanity/envy, and at other times the safety of their home can be threatened randomly ✨

@campanula-rotundifolia

[milo-is-rambling]

Nothing like some light substance abuse to really make you feel like a child again

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: THINK I NEED SOMEONE OLDER

✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: what do you do when your boyfriend cheats? you go to his house and look for revenge, and you get it by fucking his dad! NSFW

contents: fem!reader. age gap, blowjob, praise, degradation, use of slut, slight dumbification, dirty talk, and possibly more. 2.6K words.

you should've known that dating a rich boy came with more than just the money—it came with a shitty boyfriend too. 

as you walk to his house, rain falling in your eyes, you curse every time he had you do his homework, his bills, even his fucking laundry. that's what you get for dating the spoiled heir to the massive gojo fortune.

you step onto the gojo estate's porch, wondering what possessed you to come all the way here in the middle of the night without an umbrella. thank god you still had the key your ex had given you, since he was too stupid to remember to take it back after he dumped you.

hands shaking from the cold, you slip the key into the lock and turn, a small smile dancing across your lips when it opens as easily as your ex's legs. he was probably out fucking another girl right now, if the pictures on his instagram story were any hint of his whereabouts.

you push the door open with your shoulder and dry your feet on the doormat. his parents are never home, and it's late enough for the staff to have all gone back to their quarters. besides, even if one or two were still here, they probably didn't know you weren't their spoiled brat's girlfriend anymore.

humming the post-breakup revenge song you'd been listening to for the past hour, you tie up your hair and look around. the only reason you walked all the way here in the middle of a dark, stormy night was for revenge, and you weren't leaving without it.

on the way to your ex's room, you stop in one of the bathrooms to dry off. rainwater slides off your body as you wring out your hair in the sink, water dripping down your wrist as you do so.

you walk the familiar path to your ex's room, rolling your eyes when you see a bra on the floor that definitely isn't yours. funnily enough, you aren't surprised. there's no hurt, no sadness, just disgust. your suspicions were right—he was fucking other girls while the two of you dated. 

a sigh slips through your lips as you look around his room. it's messy, even with the help from the gojo estate's numerous staff. they say bigger rooms naturally look cleaner, and yet your ex's room still manages to mirror his mind—filthy.

you're so immersed in the thousand ideas you have to ruin your ex's life that when a deep, sleep-ridden voice asks you what the fuck you're doing in his house, you nearly jump out of your skin.

you spin around, words caught in your throat when you come face-to-face with satoru gojo, your ex-boyfriend's dad and the infamous head of the gojo family.

it's more than shameful that the first thought you have is that shit, he's hot. you've met before, but it was only in passing. satoru's never around, and the extent of your relationship was a brief nod as he passed you in one of the many passageways in the gojo estate. in fact, you aren't entirely sure if he even knows who you are.

satoru gojo's well-known in japan—not only is he the reason the gojo family has its reputation, but he's made quite a name for himself by being the most affluent and handsome of them all. 

you've heard stories about him back in his prime. most sound too far-fetched to be true, but the photos of him in his twenties that resurface from time-to-time make good material for your late-night fantasies. 

and satoru's even more intimidating in person. he's easily over six feet tall with well-defined muscles, and he's the definition of a dilf. he's probably twice your age, but the glint in his eyes and casual arrogance in his stance makes him all the more attractive.

it's a shame his son is such a dickhead.

"are you one of my son's whores?" satoru asks dryly, eying the bra on the floor. you scowl and kick it away, a soft huff slipping through your lips.

"no, i'm— wait, he never told you?" you cut yourself off with the question, a hint of incredulous disbelief in your tone. 

satoru shrugs, reaching up to ruffle his hair. his shirt slides up just enough to expose his abs, which are really fucking hot by any standards. "if you're asking about my son, he thankfully leaves me out of his sex life," he says amusedly. "so, who are you? and what the hell are you doing in my house this late?"

"i—" well, you couldn't just say you were here to ruin his son's life. "uh, i'm his... girlfriend."

satoru barks out a laugh, looking down at you through his long, white eyelashes. "really? you sure you're dating my son?"

you narrow your eyes and nod. satoru shakes his head, slipping one of his hands in his pocket and gesturing to the bra on the floor with the other. "either you aren't his girlfriend or you just found out he's cheating. which is it?"

well, you tried. "both." satoru raises his eyebrows at that and takes a seat on the chair across from his son's bed, exhaling as he does so. 

"so, sweetheart, what's the story?" he asks, a bored expression on his face. he leans back and spreads his legs enough for you to wonder what it'd be like to be in between them. 

not sensing that you really have a choice, you sit on the corner of his son's bed and start explaining. at first, you sugarcoat his son's actions, not wanting to sound like a whiny brat, but at one point he interjects with a sigh.

"i know my son," he says dryly, brushing his floppy white hair out of his eyes. "and i also know a liar when i see one."

"s' that so?" you mutter under your breath, ignoring the way satoru's eyes narrow at your side comment. from then on, you list every detail of just how shitty your ex was to you. you tell satoru how his son made you fold his clothes, how he dragged you to parties even when you swore you had homework, how he'd make you fu—

you stop there, not wanting to divulge every detail of your sex life. sure, your ex forced you to fuck him every night in every way he knew existed from watching porn, but that wasn't for his dad to know.

satoru, who's been listening intently for the last five minutes, studies your irritated expression thoughtfully. rather than comment on the way you suddenly stopped ranting, he asks, "so you're here for revenge?"

you nod, crossing your legs. satoru eyes you for another second before placing his hands on his knees and standing up with a soft grunt. "do whatever you want, but i want you out of my house in fifteen minutes. and whatever you do stays in this room. no fire."

satoru looks down at you and raises an eyebrow. "is that clear?"

it would be easier to agree if satoru wasn't looking down at you with an expression like that on his face. it's somewhere between mild irritation and disgust—whether it's directed at you or his son, you're not sure, but he probably has better things to do than listen to some girl's breakup story. so you nod, and satoru starts to leave.

just before he steps out the door, you think of a really fucking insane idea—one that would absolutely shatter your ex. and for some reason, you say it out loud.

"you should fuck me."

oh my god.

satoru turns around slowly, hand clenched around his phone. "the fuck?"

you swallow, eyes wide and a stupid grin plastered on your face. "shit, i—" you were ready to apologize for just about every word you've ever said, but satoru holds up his hand before you can start, cutting you off.

he scoffs, blue eyes glimmering with either amusement or annoyance. "you really are a piece of work, aren't ya?" satoru narrows his eyes, surveying you critically. his gaze settles on the way your shaky hands, and you hide them behind your back self consciously.

"you want me to fuck you on my son's bed?" he says dryly, stifling a laugh. when you force yourself to nod, he grins. "not bad, sweetheart. not bad at all."

"i-is that a yes?" you hate yourself for stuttering, but it makes satoru laugh.

"sure, why not?" he says, walking over to where you're still sitting on his son's bed and resting a hand on your shoulder. satoru rubs the side of your neck with his thumb, cerulean eyes fixed on your lips. "might be about time to teach my son a lesson anyways."

satoru's agreement surprises you enough to make your mouth fall open, and soon enough, his dick replaces the empty space between your lips.

"shit, you're takin' me so good, baby," satoru groans, hand tangled in your hair as he pushes his dick deeper into your throat. "yeah, that's it, jus' like tha— fuck," he cuts himself off with a breathy laugh as you nearly choke.

he's big, way bigger than your ex, and you wonder how his dad's big dick gene skipped him. and even better, satoru's skilled too. he knows how to fuck you good, and you can tell that it's from experience, not from watching porn—unlike his lame excuse of a son.

"tell me, sweetheart," satoru drawls, looking down at you with a cheeky smile. "was my son half as good as i am in bed?"

when you shake your head no, satoru clicks his tongue in disapproval. "shit, now y're gonna expect every guy you fuck with to be as good as me. well, sorry 'bout that, because they aren't."

at least you know where his son gets his arrogance from. 

it's getting a little hard to breathe, especially since you have ten inches of dick shoved down your throat. despite all satoru's talk, you can tell that he's getting close to cumming down your throat—his eyes are twitching and his breaths are starting to become more and more shaky as you suck him off. soon enough, the coil in his stomach snaps and he cums, cursing and praising you as he does. satoru's grip on your hair tightens, and it's borderline painful as he tugs you deeper by the hair.

"shit, that was the best head i've had in a while," he groans after his breathing starts to go back to normal. satoru grins at you, shaking his head and pinning you on your back on the bed.

"you've already been fucked by a gojo here, haven't you?" satoru cooes, tracing your jawline with one of his fingers. "tch, i'll fuck you better than my shithead son ever could. show ya the reason we gojos have a reputation for our dicks."

and fuck, he does. after quickly making you cum on his fingers with the excuse of loosening you up, he roughly shoves his dick in your already-throbbing pussy with a grin. he's so fucking big that you've convinced he's gonna rip you in half.

"g-gojo, i can't—"

"sure y'can," he cuts you off, jaw tightening as you tighten around him. "fuckin' hell, you're just tight as a virgin. my son must be shit in bed, yeah?"

"mhm," you hum, tilting back your head and gasping for air as you feel your body heat up. "shit— right there—"

satoru grins, dipping his head and meeting your tear-lidded eyes. he's far from gentle—it's barely been a couple minutes and your back is already in the highest arch of your life, and it's hard to form coherent thoughts as satoru continues bullying his cock into your pussy.

you lose track of time easily—fuck, you forget there's even a world outside of whatever this is. at some point your tongue falls out of your mouth, lolling to the side as your eyes roll back—just a dumb slut for satoru; or at least that's what he calls you.

as you approach what must be the hundredth orgasm of the night, satoru asks you to say his name. it's almost embarrassing how much effort it is to say—he's fucked you dumb enough to the point where you're a babbling mess.

"shit, you can't even talk," satoru says with a grin, flicking your forehead playfully. "cute." he rests his elbow by your head and shoves his hand over your mouth, amusement dancing in his eyes. "you talk too much anyways, princess. take a break."

you whine against his hand and satoru shakes his head, a faux pout on his face. "c'mon, it's not like you can talk anyways," he tsks. his next thrust is particularly rough, and you can't seem to remember who the name of the dickhead who got you in this situation—what was your ex's name again? does it matter?

"yeah i can" you mumble, voice muffled by satoru's hand. when his pout deepens, you can't help but giggle, a sound that soon turns to a squeal when he pushes the side of your face into the mattress.

"what's so funny?" satoru grumbles, dipping his head and pressing his lips against the hand seperating your mouth from his. satoru's glimmering eyes are fixed on yours as a cheeky smile spreads across his face. "fine then."

he pulls out, cursing under his breath as he presses his back to the headboard. satoru ignores the hm? that slips out of your lips and removes his hand from your mouth, resting it on his dick instead and stroking it with a smirk. "what is it, princess?"

"wha— why'd you stop?"

satoru lifts his other wrist, studying the watch on it and turning his hand so you can see too. your vision is still so fucked up that the numbers look like swimming otters, but you can vaguely make out the time.

"it's been fifteen minutes, kid. time to go."

your mouth falls open and you sit up, still breathing heavily. one second you're having the best sex of your life, and the next your ex's dad is calling you kid and telling you it's time to go?

"not fair," you mumble, pulling your legs into your chest and resting your head on your knees. "that was a stupid time limit," you huff, chest heaving. "i couldn't have done anything to him in fifteen minutes anyways."

satoru snorts, stretching his arms and resting his hands behind his head. "i'd say we did something in those fifteen minutes," he says dryly, white hair falling into his eyes. 

"hmph."

satoru raises his eyebrows, biting the inside of his lip as he continues stroking himself. you notice the way his abs flex and tense the closer he gets; something that shouldn't be as attractive as it is.

"can't believe my dumbass son fucked up so badly with a girl like you," he groans after a minute, back resting against the headboard as he continues stroking his dick. "won't be seein' you around here again, huh?"

you blink, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as satoru eyes you intently. "what d'you mean?"

before satoru can answer, the two of you hear footsteps, and before either of you can do anything, standing in the doorway to his own room is your ex, a giggling girl on his arm. the faint scent of alcohol floods through your nose as they stumble in, and it's all you can do to stop yourself from laughing when your ex sees that his bed is already occupied.

"why the hell is my dad in bed with my ex-girlfriend?!"

[a-b-riddle]

Part Five

Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)

You call Meredith when you get home.

You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.

How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.

"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."

"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"

"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."

"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.

"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."

"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."

"That works."

"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."

It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.

"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.

"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."

The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.

Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.

But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.

You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.

You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.

Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.

“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...

“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”

"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"

"You won't return any of our messages."

"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."

"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.

"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.

Dammit.

"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."

"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.

"Why not?" He countered.

“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”

He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.

You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.

God...

That felt good.

You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...

You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.