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ariaste · 10 months

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The Magic Trick You Didn’t See: Being An Analysis of Good Omens Season 2

(or: Neil Gaiman, Your Brain is Gorgeous But I Have Cracked Your Sneaky Little Code And Have You Dead To Rights*) (*Maybe)

***

Soooooo I just spent the last 48 hours having a BREATHTAKING GALAXY BRAIN EPIPHANY about Good Omens Season 2 and feverishly writing a fuckin16,000 word essay about the incredible magic trick that @neil-gaiman pulled off.

Yes, it’s long, but I PROMISE your brains will explode. Do you want to know how magic works? Do you want to know what Metatron’s deal is (I’m like 99% sure of this and it’s EXTREMELY FUCKING GOOD)? Do you want to know about the Mystery of the Vanishing Eccles Cakes and the big fat beautiful clue I found in the opening credits? Do you go through the whole inventory of Chekov’s Firearm & Heavy Artillery Discount Warehouse?

Here is the essay, go read it: https://docs.google.com/document/d/193IXS11XN46lziHRb6eUpM17yK0BQkRqke1Wh64A_e0/ When ur done u can tell me I’m an insane crackpot, and u know what, i won’t even be offended

In case you don’t know whether you want to bother reading the whole enormous thing on google docs, I’ve put the first couple sections of it under the cut. JUST TRUST ME OKAY, HEAR ME OUT, THIS IS VERY EXTREMELY COOL, NEIL IS GOOD AT HIS JOB--

Proem

A dark theater. The rustling of the audience: clothes, breathing, whispers of anticipation. The lights come up. A man enters, stage left. He is a magician—a master magician—and he performs for you a magic trick so good and so subtle... that you don’t even notice you’ve seen it.

You know there must have been a trick—after all, you came to the theater to see a trick performed, didn’t you? And he claims to be a magician. So there had to be a trick somewhere. There had to be.

But maybe there wasn’t. Maybe there was just a man on a stage, talking to you, telling you a story with a strangely unsatisfying ending you didn’t quite understand.

I know. This is a weird beginning to an analysis essay. But hear me out, because I have to explain the mechanisms of the stage before I can show you what the trick was, where the trapdoor was hidden, and how Neil Gaiman pulled the whole thing off so gently and elegantly that you didn’t notice a thing. Ready? Here we go.

The Facts As We Know Them

Let us begin by establishing a baseline—some fundamental, logical assumptions that underpin the magic trick. These will seem obvious as soon as I say them, which is precisely the point: They are self-evident, loadbearing foundations for my entire argument, and if I don’t point them out, I’m going to sound like a crackpot conspiracy theorist. (Which! To be fair, I might be. I could easily be wrong about all this—but I don’t think I am.)

Our baseline, loadbearing assumptions that preface my Grand Unified Theory of Season 2:

1. Neil Gaiman is extremely good at his job.

2. Neil Gaiman loves these characters and wants with all his heart to do them justice; likewise, he has a great deal of respect, love, and admiration for Terry Pratchett and is striving VERY HARD to write the show the way Terry would have been happy with.

3. The devil, as they say, is in the details: Neil Gaiman and the entire Good Omens cast/crew are fully capable of doing extremely subtle detail work, as conclusively proven in Season 1 Ep 6, specifically the whole sequence of the body-swap scenes.

With me so far? Great.

The Elephant In The Room

Season 2 was... odd. It was odd, wasn’t it. This isn’t a matter of whether you loved it or hated it—there was just something odd going on.

I spent the entirety of my first viewing very much enjoying myself and being very happy to be back with these characters and this world, but I was also liveblogging to my groupchat as I went, and a theme soon began emerging:

“Neil, what are you doing? Where are you going with this?” “What in god’s name is going on here? I’m so lost lmao.” “What is going on with the music situation?” “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE NEIL” “zombies, ok, I trust u to pull this all together in the end, Neil, but I still don't know what you're up to” “What is going on LOL” “Incredibly what is going on here” “NEIL! WHAT IS HAPPENING!” “Literally what is happening” “Neil Gaiman why have you constructed a regency au for mystery VIBES reasons” “just????????? lesbians????????? dancing what's HAPPENING. just all the background characters are gay here ok sure sure sure NEIL GAIMAN WHAT IS HAPPENING--” “mmmmmmm neil what u doin”

All these are copied verbatim from my liveblogging, and apparently I am not the only one to have this reaction. And to be clear, I was having a good time! I came out to this theater to see a magic trick, and this Neil Gaiman guy on stage is a master magician—but I didn’t see the trick, even though there must have been a trick.

At first, I wasn’t sure how I felt about the season. I wanted to like it! Indeed, there were many things that I liked about it! But I felt a bit muddled and jumbled up and confused—I felt like there was something I didn’t understand about it, and so I couldn’t yet understand how I felt about it either.

I started chewing on this question in a friend’s DMs: Why is season 2 so fucking odd? What is going on here, Neil? What are you up to? The matter of whether he was up to something was never in question. I knew that he had to be up to something. Writers are always up to something, and as I watched season 2, it was as if I was watching Neil scamper around the room with a mischievous expression as he messed with things here and there and made little tweaks and adjustments to the arrangement of all the Chekov’s guns he’s stockpiling on the mantelpiece.

You see, Season 2 has some very bad writing in it. HANG ON, DON’T ARGUE WITH ME YET! THIS IS NOT A JUDGMENT CALL!! This is the rug that the trick’s secret mechanism is hidden under!!! This is the hidden mirror that makes the trick work!!!!! This is the trapdoor in the stage!

Yes, of course I will explain myself.

Neil Gaiman is a master magician, but I am a pretty damn good magician myself—I’m a professional fantasy author who has published nine books, and I teach workshops for apprentice writers online and at universities—and if there is one thing I have learned about the process of achieving mastery of your craft, it is this:

Regardless of what medium they’re working in, the apprentice artist is concerned primarily with achieving realism via an expansion of their control—control of their brush strokes as they paint a photorealistic eye; control of their deck of cards, the mechanisms of their magic tricks, and where the audience’s attention is being directed; control of all the little factors of voice, plot, character, setting, suspense and surprise that go into writing a good story. However, the master artist has achieved that control—so much so that it often looks effortless to an untrained eye—and sometimes the master artist returns to a messy, amateurish style simply because they have control even over this too.

As an example, consider Picasso and his entire body of work. He begins as an apprentice focused on achieving control, doing portraits of people that look like people—like what we expect a portrait of a person to look like. Then, as he grows in skill and gradually achieves mastery, he pulls away from realism. He develops a style, he experiments with faces that don’t look like any human alive colored in ways that do not appear in nature. He expands his control. His work becomes abstract. Towards the end of his life, he starts experimenting with what’s called “Naive art”, something that a 5 year old could theoretically draw... but you have to achieve mastery before you can do it on purpose and have it look good.

On one hand, Neil Gaiman is extremely good at his job. On the other hand, Season 2 has bad writing in it.

What does that tell us?

Well, we know from our Baseline Assumptions that Neil Gaiman is simply too good of a writer to fuck up through garden-variety clumsiness and lack-of-control the way an apprentice writer would. Additionally, he cannot fuck up by accident in this case because I am positive that the man is scrutinizing his work on Good Omens far too closely to let anything slide—for Crowley and Aziraphale’s sakes, for David and Michael’s sakes, and especially for Terry’s sake. The stakes are sky-high, and he cares too much to write a weird, kind of “bad” season by accident.

Which leaves only one option: He did it on purpose.

(Am I sounding like a crackpot conspiracy theorist? Baby, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. I’m gonna get SO MUCH MORE CRACKPOT.)

If he did it on purpose, then the natural question to ask is: WHY!?!?!??

It’s a great question. Not “Why?” in terms of why he as an individual person with emotions would decide to do that, mind you. More like, “What purpose does this serve for the structure of the narrative?” There is a story he is intending to tell, and out of all the choices he could have possibly made, for some reason this one was necessary and correct in order to achieve that end goal—so what was that reason?

See? Intentionality. He knows exactly what details he left in, and he did it on purpose. (Editing! It’s important!)

So there has to be a reason. It’s like when a master magician “casually” rubs an itch on his nose—why did he do that? What is he sneakily slipping into his mouth by hiding it under the excuse of this little gesture that does not even register to you as meaningful? (If you haven’t watched enough stage magic to know what I mean, watch this.)

This question is, of course, impossible to simply answer out of thin air without any further evidence. It is a dead end—so we must adjust the question and come at it from a different angle.

The one I settled on when I was chewing on this was: Well, okay, what do I mean when I say “bad writing”? What is it about S2 that makes it feel so goddamn odd?

The Pledge, The Turn, and... The Conspicuous, Expectant Silence

There are three parts to a magic trick: Pledge, Turn, Prestige.

First, the Pledge: You show the audience something ordinary. Second, the Turn: You make that ordinary thing do something extraordinary, like vanish. Third, the Prestige: You bring the ordinary thing back.

To quote the 2006 film The Prestige just after its explanation of the first two parts: “You want to be fooled. But you wouldn’t clap yet, because making something disappear isn’t enough. You have to bring it back.”

You have to bring it back.

When I teach apprentice writers, I call this a “setup-payoff cycle”. Achieving control and dexterity with this tool is crucial, because the setup-payoff cycle is the engine of the story—it’s what makes the story run. You can have a setup-payoff cycle at any scale—I have read ones that were a single sentence long; I’ve read ones that were two books long. Additionally, all jokes, no matter how long they are, are structured on a setup/payoff cycle. These cycles work precisely the same way a magic trick does:

You set up the audience’s expectations. (Optional but generally considered stylish and elegant: You give those expectations a firm jolt to throw the audience off-balance.) You pay off the audience’s expectations in a way they weren’t expecting, while saying “TA DA!!!!” really loud with your arms flung wide.

Audiences really like this. A setup-payoff cycle executed just right makes the audience’s brains light up like Times Square and hammers on their mental “reward” buttons like nothing else. It’s like you’ve personally handed them a cookie and a gold star. They go wild for this.

Here’s an example of a setup-payoff cycle, though it’s not a perfect one—and you’ve probably heard it before, so you’re not going to be throwing chairs and tearing down the theater from sheer glee:

The Setup: Knock knock. Who’s there? Banana. Banana who? The Jolt: (the joke starts over and repeats several times without reaching the payoff (aka the prestige) while the audience grows more and more annoyed and frustrated about the unfulfilled expectations, until finally...) Knock knock. Who’s there? Orange. Orange who? The Payoff: ORANGE YOU GLAD I DIDN’T SAY BANANA?

Good Omens Season 2 feels so fucking odd because the setup-payoff cycles are incomplete—nearly all of them are, and the ones that do close the loop do so in really weird ways which, as a professional author, make me feel kind of, “Bwuh?????? But where’s my cookie? Excuse me??? Sir???? Neil????? My cookie, tho???”

When I realized this, when I finally put my finger on why the whole season was giving me some uncanny valley heebie-jeebies, a chill ran down my spine. (The rest is here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/193IXS11XN46lziHRb6eUpM17yK0BQkRqke1Wh64A_e0/ I’M GOING TO GO STARE INTO THE ABYSS NOW BYE)

#good omens #good omens season 2 #ineffable husbands #neil gaiman

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 22 days

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little baby lime | s.r. x pregnant!fem reader

“does reid have a girlfriend?” emily asked derek and jj. they both shared a quizzical look with pouted lips, taken aback by the random question.

“not since that one time thing with that lila actress,” derek mumbled. now it was emily’s turn to be thrown off by this new information, “an actress?”

“an old case,” jj informed her. “spencer doesn’t seem like the dating type, mostly. never mentioned anything that might point to it, always doing his usual routine on his days off.” the blonde shrugged off her sentence.

“why do you ask?” derek turned back to emily who jerked her chin while looking behind the two, “cause he’s hugging a girl who might also be pregnant.” an impressed smirk to her mauve lips.

derek and jj wiped their heads fast around you could hear a crack from their necks. true to emily’s words, doctor spencer reid, well know to be a germaphobe, was wrapped in a tight embrace with a shorter woman. his back was to the trio but they could see that his arms were over her shoulders and hers were snug around his torso, also noting that spencer was giving both bodies a gentle sway.

“well that’s a sight,” derek teased. then jj followed with, “why might you think she’s pregnant? we can’t see with tall boy swallowing her.”

emily tapped the side of her nose, “saw her enter just before i asked the hundred dollar question and her tank was a bit snug on her stomach and she even gave it a rub.” eyes moving to the mystery duo then back, “then when spencer went to her he, one kissed her forehead then two also touched her stomach.”

three sets of eyes honed in back to spencer and his mystery guest. you leaned apart, head leaving spencer’s chest but arms wrapped to his back. you smiled brightly at spencer’s rosie face, “you’ve gotten prettier in only a week. not fair.” pouting exaggerated as you rubbed your palms along spencer’s spine.

he smiled nervously at the compliment. “that’s statistically not true. only with time and sometimes diet does your skin start to shift and change. like your body is doing now while going through pregnancy.” a quick peck upon your oily forehead, you sweat too much and sucks that summer is rolling in.

“this little lime is slowly stretching some of my clothes out. but i’m gonna be a sexy mama, like rachel green from friends. so i expect you to defend me against anyone.” teasing spencer since you already know he’ll defend you even over an argument about clothing.

before spencer could reply there was a loud, exaggerated cough from behind. stepping out of spencer’s hold you waffled your hands together and leaned your head against his bicep. a trio of agents you haven’t met before smiled questioning spencer’s way.

“pretty boy, you didn’t tell us you had a gorgeous girl waiting for you.” a tall dark skin man teased like an older brother. he looked at you and smiled his white teeth, “derek morgan, part of the bau.”

“oh, the playboy of the unit. i’ve heard a thing or two about you.” cocking a brow while derek showed surprise but covered it with a laugh, “glad to know i always leave an impression on pretty boy.”

“and thank you for the new nickname, i will be stealing it.” causing the two women to chuckle. a petite blonde woman stuck a hand out and you automatically took it, “i’m jennifer jareau, but you can call me jj. i’m the liaison for the team, deal with media and dictate our cases.”

“and a beaut. glad i snatch up spence before you had the chance.” spencer ducked his chin to his chest while jj just raised her brows, “think it’s for the best you took him off the market first.”

“lucky for me.” pointing a manicured finger to the left of jj, “now you, sexy lady must be emily prentiss since i already know wonderful penelope garcia. if i hadn’t know spencer earlier you would’ve been on my mind twenty-four seven.” a playful wink thrown her way, she didn’t protest to your suggestive words.

“maybe we can get together and see what i’m missing out on. but also, how long have you known reid? we didn’t know you existed.” a huffed laugh.

“use to live in vegas as a kid. thirteen my freshman year to have the local boy genius, twelve year old senior tutor me in algebra. with his help i didn’t need summer school. and i didn’t see him for a while until a few years ago when he’d make visits back into town.” cartoon hearts filtered through your eyes as you recounted your love story. “been dating two and a half years and then this dolt,” a light smack to spencer’s chest, “forgot to practice safe sex and here we are.”

all three of their faces showed complete shock at your last sentence and you can understand why. “don’t worry, spencer takes very good care of me. day and night if you know what i mean.” wiggling your brows suggestively.

spencer sighed, “i think they do, sweetheart. and i wish i could forget this whole conversation.” displeased at where this headed, but still stared towards you like you were the stars in the sky. “now if you’ll excuse us, garcia would like to see her favorite person.”

“second favorite,” derek cheekily pipped in. you waved him off as spencer walked the both of you away and further in the offices. to garcia’s dungeon or lair, whatever she’s feeling that day.

with a polite nock to her closed door and a muffled, “enter traveler,” you rushed inside for her bear hug. “penny!”

“oh my gosh! how are you sexy mama?” penelope rocked you side to side, cheek pressed into her neck. you giggled at the nickname, “is bean pole taking care of you?”

“bean pole?” spencer’s voice was mumbled but an unladylike snort escaping your nose. “i do have a thing for tall, lanky boys.”

“i don’t like this conversation either.”

#erin writes #spencer reid #early seasons spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid x pregnant!reader

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inkdrinkerworld · 1 month

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hi! i saw you were taking requests for post prison spencer, so hey

i was thinking about spencer meeting a kinda sunshine reader, and it’s like…love at first sight. she’s literally the one to make him smile for good

feel free to add your magic to it, and to ignore it, don’t feel pressure at all!

have a good day/night <3

babe you guys are saving my life with these requests right now! I'm feeling so good about everything I write again <3 enjoy sunshine!reader x post prison!spencer who looks less tense and serious around you

You’re at his desk, sitting there all perfect in your orange button up and flared pants, Mary Janes clicking on the linoleum tile as you tap your pen against your lips. Your hair is scraped back into a ponytail, the plait brushing the spot between your shoulder blades.

Spencer had asked about you to Penelope, asked about your personality, about how you work- all the important things. What he didn’t ask was if you were gorgeous and Penelope, who loves to divulge, had never said a thing about your looks.

“Hi, you’re Y/n right?” Spencer’s standing before you, not realising how intimidating he must look till you jolt in your chair.

You’d been trying to get your morning crossword and read in before the day had officially begun, a habit you’d been trying to keep up with since you started the job. So far it’s been going- the crosswords are boring so you have to pretend to be distracted by it to let it last a bit more than four minutes.

“Oh sorry, I am. You’re Doctor Spencer Reid,” you lean back in your chair, not bothering to hold out a hand to you. Penelope had grilled you on his aversion to germs and touching people more than needed. “I’m sorry about taking over your desk, but they didn’t have any free ones.”

Spencer shakes his head, you take a moment to look him over. His hair is a bit looser than you’d imagined, Penelope said curly hair and you’d thought tight spirals- he has pretty loose ringlets, dark and mocha-like.

He smells like leather and something else, maybe plum and black currant- it’s a bit of an all encompassing smell that you like already. He’s much prettier too, he looks tired, but still pretty. His stubble presents a problem, you know it’s going to be your downfall.

“It’s alright, we keep a tight ship. Have they been treating you well?”

You tilt your head, “The team or the unsubs? Because it’s been too many cases to have real team building.” You grin when Spencer huffs, making his lips twitch. “But I think getting concussed while saving Newbie’s ass counts for something.”

Luke grumbles as he walks by with his coffee, “You were hired after I was,” patting Spencer on the back when the taller, lithe, man rolls a chair to sit opposite you.

“Do you still experience headaches or migraines?” Spencer kicks himself when he sees your tongue poke into your cheek- you’re trying hard not to smile at his question. He also thinks he’s doing a shoddy job of flirting but that can be fixed- he’s been in prison for the last three months, he just needs to get back in the swing of things.

“I’m pretty sure your first official day back starts with you in Emily’s office and not giving me an impromptu physical, Dr. Reid.” His lips twitch again, cheeks jumping as he shakes his head.

“It’s just a check-up, no physical yet.” he stands, not really giving himself time to overthink what he’s just said. It’s more than a little presumptuous on his part but you don’t call him an asshole or swear at him, so he thinks he’s okay with it.

“Do you want your desk back, Spencer?” you’re earnest in asking, not wanting to fuck up his routines and his norm. You can tell you like him already and it’s hardly been a fifteen minute conversation.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll take the one right there.” Spencer points a finger to the desk right in behind yours with a little less severity to his lips, his stubble looking even more attractive as he does so.

You watch him walk away, willing yourself to be professional about all this, he may be hot but he’s your coworker and you know all about close proximity relationships possibly being shams. You’re not here for that, so Spencer will be a good friend.

You make your way into the kitchen, steps light as you reach for your mug- a cute blue mug with an orca as the handle.

“So you come in and the kid’s already obsessed with you?” Rossi’s right beside you, making you jump as you put more than the recommended amount of tablespoons of coffee into your mug.

“It’s not like that, you all made him out to be this awkward shy mess and he isn’t.” You try to sound as casual as you can, but you profile your own voice and know how it sounds to everyone- wistful.

“Maybe he’s seen a pretty girl and the ‘awkward shy mess’ melted away,” Rossi places his hands on your shoulders. “He’s a good kid. You can trust in that.”

You roll your eyes, stirring your coffee. “I’m pretty sure he’s in his thirties, Rossi.” You take the milk from him, pouring it in till your coffee is just at the lip of your mug and smile. “Definitely too old.”

Rossi waves his hand, “I’ve been married four times, old isn’t a marker for romance anymore. Not when you’re only twenty four.” He leaves you be for a moment, and on your walk back to your desk to fill out the remaining crosswords you mull over his words.

As you sit, you look down and find it all filled out in black ink, opposed to your blue and you know who did it, if the messy scrawled message is anything to go by- ‘You should get The Washington Post puzzles, much more stimulating.’

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ddejavvu · 9 months

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I can’t stop thinking about being a suspect in a case and being interviewed by Hotch 😭 like being so nervous and him taking it as like “??? are you even gonna try hiding it??” and you’re not gonna be honest and be like “i’m not nervous because i’m guilty i’m nervous BC YOURE A HOT OLD MAN” because this is a serious case and serious situation so it’s just Hotch trying to coax it out of you, you being all flustered looking suspicious but actually like needy for this man, and the team who caught on like “oh wait no. shes just attracted to him. why do we have hot people on the team?”

SSA Hotchner's scrutinizing gaze studies your weak posture, your fidgeting fingers, your spotty eye contact, and he muses, "You're not very good at controlling your body language."

"What?" You look at him, eyes wide and round and full of nerves. You've never been questioned before, not even by a low level security officer, much less an FBI Agent. You suppose that's making you nervous, yes, but what's really wringing you out is the fact that the one they sent to your interrogation room is just plain hot.

He's gorgeous, all sharp features that are always angled towards you, and dark eyes you'd expect of a criminal, not its captor. His suit is crisp and his voice is low; he's the pinnacle of professionalism and he's making you squirm with his undivided, discerning attention.

"You're nervous," He accuses, and you let out a soft huff in the back of your throat.

Who wouldn't be?

"You're fidgeting, you can't look me in the eyes, you lean away from me," He lists, leaning forwards in his chair to watch you repel like a magnet, your back pressing into the metal bars behind you as he proves his point.

"I'd think someone with the criminal expertise to commit six murders without witnesses would have a better handle on their outward appearance."

"I'd think so, too," You manage, not without stammering, "Agent- Agent Hotchner, I- I'm not-"

"You're not guilty? You're the closest thing we have to a suspect," He doesn't let your stuttering deter him, leaning ever-closer until you're flattened against the back of your chair and he's still advancing. He rises from his seat, inching closer and closer as he continues, "You miraculously discovered the body at an odd hour of the night when you had no business being at the scene of the crime, you called it in, you told the police you knew nothing, you're telling me you know nothing, but still," He's inches away from you now, and every nerve in your body is aflame with mortification at the very unhelpful fantasies rushing through your head as he pins you to the chair.

"-You insist on your innocence, but I don't think you're innocent at all. I think you're trying to toy with us, but we don't play games, you won't win. Understand?" His dark eyes bore into your own and you're painfully attracted to them, biting the inside of your cheek to stop from begging him to back away before you lose control and surge forward to kiss him. He refuses to blink, but you're doing it enough for the both of you, lashes rapidly fluttering as you try calming your pounding heart. He watches you for one, two, three, four, five seconds, expecting a hurried confession at any moment, but the door clicks open before you can stammer something humiliating.

"Hotch," It's a dark-haired woman, and god, does the FBI recruit people based on attractiveness? She's stunning and she turns her beautiful eyes on you in sympathy, "Back off, Hotch. She's innocent."

He narrows his eyes at her almost imperceptibly, turning away from you, "You found the unsub?"

"No," She admits, "But it's not her. Okay? I just know."

"You just- Agent Prentiss," Agent Hotchner stands straight, "That's not protocol."

"I know," She gushes, but she strides confidently through the room to ease you upright and out of your chair, "Just- let me handle this, okay? Come on, honey, we'll talk somewhere private."

Agent Hotchner lets her take you away, and he must trust her, even if he's watching her with narrowed eyes. Maybe this is some interrogation tactic, maybe the woman leading you by the shoulder through the precinct is the good cop, and he was the bad one.

She leads you past a cluster of people all leaning against desks or hunching over files, and a slim blonde woman shoots you a knowing smile. What she knows, you're not sure, but you wish so badly that it were comforting.

The woman walking with you leads you straight to the front door, taking your purse from where they'd confiscated it earlier and handing it back to you.

"You're free to go," She smiles at you, eyes nothing but kind, "I'll tell him you proved your innocence."

"But- what," Your fingers are almost too limp to keep your bag in their grip, "I don't understand-"

"I do," She grins, "He's handsome, I get it. He tends to forget that."

Your cheeks sear with flames that you wish would turn you to ash right then and there, so that you could be carried away on the breeze and not have to answer for your embarrassing instincts.

"Don't worry about it," She laughs, clearly sympathetic to your panic, "Trust me, you're not the first person that's squirmed in their seat under the intense gaze of Aaron Hotchner. He's a smart man, but never smart enough to figure out when someone likes him. You're free to go, honey," She repeats, reaching out to squeeze your arm, "And if you ever get dragged into an investigation again - which I hope you don't," She grins, "I wish you a very ugly investigator."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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cult-of-husbandos · 9 months

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yami ai [yandere] - Hot Yandere Singles Near You

synopsis: you click on a random pop-up ad and are visited by weird smiling man in suit.

genre: pure crack (like fr), fluff, tbh there's not really a plot

word count: 4.4k

warnings: implied stalking

Isn’t insomnia just the worst? Like, seriously? What’s the point of being a human being with antiquated thoughts and impressive cognitive and motor skills when your brain fights you on the most basic stuff. For example, like sleeping!!

You must’ve refreshed YouTube and Twitter over a thousand times. Over 8 billion people in the world and there’s no new content anywhere? You groaned and jumped back over onto Twitter, silently praying and pleading for something new to show up on your feed. Maybe a wacky billionaire got eaten by a mob of homeless people or maybe a news article about a Floridian doing something gross and outrageous and virtually impossible.

But nope. Nothing.

Not a single thing piqued your interest. You groaned again and looked at the time on your dimly lit phone. It was past 2 a.m. and you were bored out of your mind. You then lazily clicked on Google and sighed.

‘Maybe someone posted a new fanfic over something…’ you hoped. And even if there wasn’t a new fic uploaded you’ll just read the old ones you favorited. Perhaps reading something might put you to sleep.

As you were scrolling through your favorite ship tags, you were startled by a pop up ad covering up 90% of the screen and flashing emojis.

“Ugh… seriously?” you groaned. “They should make ad-blockers on phones for this shit.” You squinted at the bright lettering emanating from your phone even though it was at the lowest brightness setting.

⚠️(99+) Hot Yandere Singles NEAR YOU⚠️

Yandere’s…? Singles? Near me?

The pop-up ad had flashing peach, cherry, and eggplant emojis with a water splash emoji at the end to signify… well, you’re not sure what it was trying to signify. On the sides of the ad, it showed pictures of very gorgeous men and women, all striking suggestive poses. Underneath the title was a small summary that read. ‘These lonely desperate yanderes wanna meet you! They’ll most likely find you anyway, but wouldn’t you rather be the honey to a bee instead of a fly? Try it NOW for FREE!! No hookups! No catfishes! No sign ups!’ Then below that were a few empty boxes to fill out requiring your personal information.

"..."

Was this a porn ad?!

No way at 2:45 in the freaking morning did you just get a porn pop-up ad while googling mafia au fanfiction. This has to be some kind of joke. Maybe it was prank and someone was just fucking with you. And how and why would there be 99+ yanderes in your area?! You couldn’t be surrounded by that many psychos. Could you? Whatever the case may be, it was now past 2 a.m. and as the rule of life states ‘Nothing good happens after 2 a.m.’. You don’t know if it was the lack of sleep or just reckless curiosity, but you gave your shoulders a shrug and mumbled a ‘fuck it’ as you put in your information. Your name, number, gender, age, preferred sex, email, and mailing address. As you clicked submit and continued scrolling, you gave very little thought about how this would go down.

On one hand, the ad turns out to be real and you get a partner out of this. Or

You get quartered, stalked, doxxed, and murdered like the dumbass you are for putting your personal info into a sketchy porno-like pop-up on Google.

Or, it turns out to be a prank and some asshole sitting in a basement has a good laugh at you.

Meh. You’ll deal with it in the morning.

*****

You were jolted awake with the sound of rapid knocking coming from your front door. You groaned into your pillow as you tried to ignore the person desperately wanting your attention from outside your apartment. You finally got some sleep only for it to get interrupted. Only minutes and minutes of continued knocking without any signs of letting up, you decide to get up and shoo away whoever it was. You wearily grabbed your phone to check the time.

8:02 a.m.

You huffed as you stormed towards the front door.

“If this a fucking Jehova’s Witness, I swear to god…” you grumbled. You swung open the door and threw the person a harsh glare, only to be met with popping sounds as confetti flew in your face.

“Good morning, my dear darling~!! Are you ready to begin on the road to happiness and love?” the stranger shouted a far too happy tone for 8 in the morning.

You took a step back in shock, fully awake as you waved and dusted the confetti from your face and hair. You looked the strange man up and down. He was smiling ear to ear and wore an expensive looking suit to warm for the summer weather. A briefcase stood right beside him along with dozens of other party poppers and a white plastic bag filled with brown bottles with oddly enough no labels on them. You looked at the man’s face. He was surprisingly attractive and without a single flaw anywhere. His hair was jet black and shined a very prominent gloss. You were honestly kind of embarrassed to be seen by him when you looked like such a mess. The man let out a chuckle.

“Oh my.” he said, gently putting his hand over his mouth with vague concern. “I hope I didn’t startle you too much. I probably should’ve sent you an email notifying you of the time I was coming. I’m sorry that must’ve been a troubling awakening.”

You quirked your eyebrow and took another step back, grabbing onto the doorknob so that you could slam it right in his face if things got too weird.

“And… you are?”

“Oh my, oh my. Where are my manners? How careless of me to assume.” The man bowed with a curtsy. “I am the ‘Matchmaker’. My job is to pair two people with their fated soulmate and give each of my clients their happily ever after. It’s very nice to meet you, (Y/N) (L/N).”

You felt a chill crawl down your spine. How’d this weirdo know your name?! You tried to close the door as fast as you could, but the ‘Matchmaker’ was even faster. He clicked his tongue at you, his smile unchanging, but his eyes seemed to harden his gentle tone.

“My, how rude. Is that any way to treat a guest?” He let out another chuckle. “You’ll never find love that way.”

“H-How did you know my name?” you stuttered.

Again, another chuckle. What was so funny? “My dear~. You gave it to me.”

What the hell was he talking about? How could you have given this creep your name? Was he a stalker? A junkie? Noticing the confusion on your face, the man spoke up again.

“Oh my dear. Do you really not remember?” he asked, tilting his head in feign innocence. “You filled out an ad to meet singles in your area. And here I am, coming to fulfill that ad.”

You eased up on the tension you had on the door and tilted your head in surprised confusion. “That was a real ad?”

The man stood up tall and smiled earnestly again. “Of course. However, you are the first person to actually fill out that ad. Really, this is more of a celebration to both of us.”

Huh, so the pop-up ad was real.

Not a prank.

And now there’s a psycho standing at your front door promising you a partner from an actual yandere.

“I honestly thought it was a prank. I mean… yanderes? Isn’t that just an anime thing?”

“Oh, I assure you my darling.” he said with a snide smirk. “Yanderes are real. And when they heard about signing up, it was like tossing chicken in a sea of alligators. All clamoring to be the first person to take a bite.”

Okay, gross but kind of sweet.

“May I come in?”

“Huh?”

“Well, my dear. It would be easier to come in and talk through the process of how this goes instead of standing here.”

“Oh, um… Suuuree-”

“Great! My my darling~. What a lovely home. Very well decorated.” The man quickly strided into your house and made himself comfortable in your living room, looking as if he was analyzing every detail about your house.

Richard Chase would’ve loved your dumbass.

You shut the door and followed him into your own apartment and offered him a seat on your couch. Might as well, right? You’ve gone this far and you're still alive.

“Umm…” you hesitantly shifted from one foot to another. “Do you… um… want some coffee maybe? Or tea? Maybe a glass of water? If you haven;t eaten breakfast yet, I whip you up something.”

Yeah, sure. Feed the man with only a title for a name and waltzed right into your house after showing up after you put in your personal information into a random pop-up ad at 3 a.m. promising you a happy life with hot single yanderes in your area. You are the pinnacle of human genius. The apex of natural selection. The creme de la creme of common sense. Charles Darwin would be so impressed.

“How thoughtful. Just coffee would be fine. Thank you.”

After brewing a quick pot, you sat across from the man facing him heads on and gently slid him his steaming cup. After a while of taking little sips in weird silence, he spoke up again.

“Before we continue, I’d just like to say: Thank you so much for applying for this wonderful opportunity!! Not many people would click on an ad requiring doxxing information to meet their soulmates! Again, congrats on being our number one willing client!”

“Willing client?” you asked.

“Well, of course! For some reason, humans seem to really love the idea of a yandere until there’s one standing on their front porch!” he laughed.

“Humans? I’m sorry. Are you not human, Mr…?”

“Ah ah! No need for formalities! Just ‘The Matchmaker’ or simply ‘Matchmaker’.

“Oh, so… you don’t have a true name? Or is that just a title?”

“Oh darling~.” he sang sweetly. “That’s none of anyone’s fucking business, is it?”

Your eyes widened and let out a nervous chuckle. “Okay, got it! Just Matchmaker. Lovely name. Adore it. In fact, I love when strange mysterious men only give a title for a name.” What the hell does that even mean? You had no idea what you were saying anymore.

“Heh, smart cookie.” He winked. “Shall we begin?”

“Um, yeah, so… how does this work exactly?” you finally asked.

“Simple, my dear darling. Think of this as an ordinary matchmaking appointment. I have a stack of potential soulmates all ready to meet you. I have the same information about them that I also have of you. Each potential soulmate also has a picture so if you don’t really feel up to meeting face-to-face just yet you can look over the picture and see who captures your heart.”

“Face-to-face? So these guys have my picture too?” “Of course! And might I say, those pictures don’t do you justice. In all my years in this business, I’ve never seen such an obsession and overload of potential soulmates for just one person.”

You lightly blushed. “I-I don’t know about that… I barely got any sleep last night so I probably look like a zombie right now…”

“Au contraire, Darling. You look absolutely stunning. If I weren’t such a professional I would burn all these forms and claim you as my one and only~.”

You felt your entire face flush red as the Matchmaker pierced your soul with his longing gaze. It felt like he was staring into your very essence – like he could read you like a book. You nervously cleared your throat and shifted your eyes away, hoping to bring down your blush.

“S-So! Um… should we get started?” you stuttered, internally kicking yourself for being so easily flustered by a couple of smooth words. Ted Bundy would’ve had a field day with your dumbass.

“Ready whenever you are, my dear.” The Matchmaker set his briefcase on your coffee table and pulled out a single form and slid it over towards you. “Let’s start off with an easy one.”

You looked at the form along with the picture of a very attractive man paperclipped to the paper. According to the form, his name is Hamazawa Akita. He was in his early 20’s, had a varying array of hobbies from hiking to scuba diving, and was very much in love with you.

“Well, what do you think?”

“Hm, well, he’s very cute. And very active.”

“Would you like to meet him?”

“Um, sure… is there a number I could call or…?”

“No need! We can bring him in right now.” The Matchmaker snapped his fingers and you whipped your head towards the front door where Akita strolled in, all smiles. You looked back over the Matchmaker. “Did I not lock my door? Wait. More importantly, how’d he get here?!”

The Matchmaker smiled. “My dear, when you’re in this business you pick up a few tricks.” He then turned his attention towards Akita who now stood in the middle of the living room. “No. 1 would you like to introduce yourself?”

Akita stood tall and his eyes seemed to beam directly at you. “My name is Hamazawa Akita. Ever since I saw your picture I’ve dreamed about sweeping you off your feet and claiming you all to myself!”

“So, like 8 hours ago?”

“Yes!! But those hours feel like years when being away from you.”

“Hmm.”

“So, what do you think? Are you feeling the butterflies?”

You looked up Akita up and down and your face twisted as if you’re deciding on whether or not to buy a car or a piece of clothing.

“Um, to be honest my guy. I’m not feeling it.”

“Huh?”

“Excuse me, my darling?”

“Weeeelllll…. I mean, don’t get me wrong! You’re very attractive and your words are sweet, but I don’t think I believe any of it. Like, you just admitted to wanting me all to yourself only 8 hours ago, but I don’t really feel anything. Not even a shiver.”

The Matchmaker and Akita both looked at each other like they weren’t really expecting that. With a quick wave of his hand, Akita slumped his shoulders and headed towards your front door. You shouted out an apology as the dejected suitor walked out.

“Well, I didn’t expect that. I don’t normally get such competent clients. At least those that get past kicking and screaming.” The Matchmaker grinned. You shrugged.

“I guess I just know what I like. All the anime I’ve watched kind of gives you that high standard of what makes a yandere a real yandere, y’know?”

He nodded. “I cannot agree more. Well, we have plenty more where that came from. Shall we continue?”

*****

Papers were strewn across your coffee table in an unorganized fashion as both you and your estranged guest were tired beyond belief. You had no idea how many hours had passed nor how many guests were in and out of your apartment. You’re honestly surprised none of your neighbors complained or called the police. Your apartment would’ve looked like a clown car if anyone had been watching from the outside. You honestly lost count after No. 256. You let out another yawn and laid on your side trying your best to keep your eyes open. Maybe 2 hours of sleep wasn’t enough for the multiple interviews you had to conduct today. Maybe your 9th grade biology teacher was right. Maybe you are going to die alone. A weary sigh brought you from your thoughts.

“My, my. You are definitely the most high standard client I’ve ever had. I didn’t think we’d get to the triple digits in just one day.”

You also sighed and sat up in your seat. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… All these guys are cute and all, but they’re all lacking something. They’re either too forceful or not forceful enough. Too wimpy or too strong. Or too obsessed or just incredibly so lovesick that I feel like they’d fall in love with just about anyone who’d be willing. Ugh, why can’t this be simpler like adopting an animal?” You groaned. You also hadn’t thought this would take this long. You didn’t really think of yourself as having high standards until today. Until today, you’d be happy with anyone close to you in age and with a heartbeat. Who knew picking out a yandere soulmate would be so challenging. And who knew that there’d be so many willing participants! The Matchmaker reached into his briefcase and pulled another stack of forms and slid them over to you. There must be at least over a hundred papers in front of you. How did he have so many?!

“How about we switch things up, hm? You’ll look over the papers and when you see someone that catches your eye, I’ll bring him in.” He made it sound like you were adopting a dog or a cat. But if this made it go any faster, you were willing to try.

After about 3 more stacks of papers, you were starting to lose hope and patience. When you got to the last few papers, you stopped dead in your tracks. Woah baby!

“Woah baby!” you exclaimed.

“Did you find someone you like?” The Matchmaker asked hopefully.

“Oh yeah. This guy.” You showed him the paper. He furrowed his brows a little.

“Are you sure? I don’t think I remember this man. His name and face don’t seem familiar.”

“Really? Maybe he’s a late entry or something?”

Matchmaker stroked his chin in thought. “I’ll go check it out. Be right back, dear. I’m very sorry for this inconvenience.”

You waved off his apology with a smile and he left your apartment. You then leaned back with a groan. You just wanted to find your ‘soulmate’ or whatever and move on with this day. You closed your eyes for a second and waited patiently for Matchmaker to come back.

Tap tap tap

Just like deja vu, you were awoken by rapid knocking. Except this time it wasn’t coming from your front door.

Tap tap tap tap

It sounds like it’s coming from… your window?

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap

You quickly got up and walked towards your window and opened it.

“Woah!” You jumped back a little as you were met face to face with the man that you had picked out and that the Matchmaker went to go find.

‘Wow… he’s even cuter in person!!’

He let out a delicious chuckle and gave you a charming smile.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, darling~. Hehe, though I think that fear in your eyes was worth it. So adorable~.” For the second time today, a complete weirdo stranger has made you blush. Wait…

“Wait! I don’t have a balcony and I’m on the third floor. How’d you-?” You peeked over the window to see if he was pulling a Criss Angel.

“I have incredible grip strength~.” he winked.

“Oooh I’m sure~.” you swooned. For a weirdo, he was a smooth talking weirdo.

“Oh, I got these for you, sweetheart~.” He pulled himself up and sat on your windowsill and pulled out a bouquet of roughly cut flowers from behind him. You gasped and grabbed them, giving them a smell.

“These are my favorite!! How did you know? I don’t think that was one of the pieces of info required for the Matchmaker.” you asked.

The stranger chuckled. “Easy. I never filled out that stupid application.”

You looked up from your flowers and titled your head like a confused puppy.

“I already know everything about you. I don’t need a stupid piece of paper to tell me what I already know about you. Like, how I know that you have secret sweets hidden all throughout your room. Or that whenever you have a good day you love to sing Stray Kids.”

He inched closer to you as you backed up further into the room.

“You won’t eat frozen pizza, but every so often you eat a lobster roll from a food truck from Gary on Main St.. You have life destroying evidence of your boss that you’re planning on using on your last day. You’ve seen the Barbie movie 5 times. And…”

You felt your legs hit the couch and tried to keep yourself from falling onto your back like a defenseless turtle.

“Your favorite anime is… Dar-” You quickly covered the stranger’s mouth with a furious blush.

“I only watch it ironically!! I don’t love it! It’s not my favorite!” you quickly clarified. The gravity of the situation was made perfectly clear after that. This man really knew all about you. Honestly, you’re so loud that you’re pretty sure that people on the ground outside could hear you singing. And you don’t really pay attention to your surroundings so it's easy for someone to know that you eat from a food truck every other week at specific times. But, knowing your favorite secretly watched anime?

“W-Who… are you?” you stuttered. You’re pretty sure you already knew the answer.

He laughed and you felt his lips brush against your fingers. You blushed and tried to pull back, only to be stopped by his hands.

“Sweetie~. You already know who I am.” He grabbed the paper from the stack and put it next to his face. “See? I’m Yami Ai. Your soulmate.”

Before you could even process what was happening, you were gently pushed onto the couch with Yami hovering over you holding your hands beside your head. You couldn’t stop the blush erupting from your neck to your face. Your heart was beating way too fast and your stomach felt jumpy and queasy. Butterflies.

You cleared your throat. “Um… so, if you didn’t fill out a form then how come The Matchmaker had your profile and picture? And why didn’t you use the front door?”

Yami smirked and leaned in closer. “It’s pretty simple to pull off when your apartment does security checks on new guests entering the building.”

“But, my apartment doesn’t–” you stopped. “Ooooh… So you impersonated a security guard, slipped your profile and info into his briefcase, and were planning on showing up as one of the potential singles? That’s… convoluted. But, smart.” You shrugged. “And since you obviously knew which floor I was on and which window was mine, I assume you’ve been watching me for a while and were watching me last night when I couldn’t sleep?”

Yami laughed again. “You are so smart~. You really catch on quickly, don’t you?”

You shrugged again with a nervous smile. “W-Well, obviously not smart enough to not put in my personal info and have strange men come in and out of my apartment.”

Yami was quick to turn his gentle smile into a hard, harsh frown. His grip on your wrists grew tighter and you winced under the force he placed in you.

“You know, my darling. It’s partially my fault. If I hadn’t backed out and taken you that night, you’d never be in this situation. With those men eyeing you up and down like you were theirs. Having that smiling freak calling you ‘dear’ and ‘darling’ when only I can call you that. I was planning on getting rid of the competition, but you did that for me.”

Yami loosened his grip and lifted you up, staring into your eyes. You blushed again.

“Rejection after rejection. Some guys didn’t even get 2 words out before you turned away. Of course my darling would only want the most perfect man. Isn’t that right, darling~?”

“Hehehe~” you leaned in with a giggle. “You’re so sweet~.”

You are such a baby for flattery.

*****

“My dear darling, I’m so very sorry for the inconvenience. I didn’t mean to be gone for so long, but I could not find this person you–” Matchmaker explained, rushing in and stopping dead in his tracks when he saw both you and Yami, the man who left 30 minutes ago to go find, eating breakfast in the living room.

Sitting in his lap.

And feeding each other.

“Oh! Matchmaker!” you exclaimed, quickly swallowing your food. You didn’t notice Yami tightening his grip on your waist nor did you notice the cold glare and tense atmosphere enveloping the room. “Look who I found~.”

“I see…” he said hesitantly.

“He climbed up the building and came in through the window.”

“My~. How romantic~.” he sang. “So, I take it that you are satisfied with your soulmate? Or… do you wish to continue searching?” he asked teasingly. Before Yami could say anything, you quickly spoke again.

“Yep! I’m sure.” You ruffled Yami’s hair and nuzzled up against him. “I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else.” Yami hugged you closer to his chest as you giggled. “Plus, he makes the most amazing breakfast in the world, so extra points!” you cheered. You reached out towards the Matchmaker’s briefcase.

“Here you go! I put all the papers back in for you.”

Matchmaker quickly walked over and grabbed his briefcase along with your hand. “Well, my dear. It’s been an honor. You are truly the most remarkable and memorable client I have ever had.” he said with a bow and made his way towards the door. However, before leaving he chuckled and looked back at the both of you. “Although, it’s a shame,” he sighed. “Maybe if I had stayed, I would’ve snatched you up myself.”

And with a final loud laugh, The Matchmaker disappeared, but not before Yami stood up to lounge and attack the fleeting man like a guard dog. You snorted and caressed his face to calm him down. “Relax, Yami. He’s just joking.”

“Well, I hated his joke. Fuckin’ freak…” he grumbled. “And it’s Ai. You’re mine now. You should get used to calling each other by our first names.”

You smiled and leaned against him. “Okay, Ai. Whatever you say.”

“And if a man comes to the door, never EVER answer it, got it!”

“Mhm.”

“I’m serious, darling. I’ll gouge their eyes out right in front of you.”

“Yes sir.”

The rest of your life was going to be very interesting. Suck it, Ms. Braxton. I guess you’re the one dying alone. Because you have a yandere boyfriend! And she has gonorrhea. Bitch.

---

a/n: this is so shit. i'm so sorry that i've been MIA for a while. work has been pretty crazy and i haven't really felt much motivated to write. however, i'm trying to get back into it now. with this goofy shit. kind of a joke piece, but i needed to write something silly and not serious at all to relax. (also i've been writing since 4 a.m., so...) anyways, i'm going to try and update regulary or at least post something.

Here's my YouTube. I make anime playlists.

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charliemwrites · 6 months

Text

Woof, grrr, woof

No content warnings

Your trip to the vet turns up nothing. No microchips, and none of the staff recognize the wolf-dog. They’re the only vet in town too, and he looks too pristine to have come from another…

“You’re a weird little guy, huh?” you muse on the car ride to the pet store.

The vet office was kind enough to make a file for him, standing name “Buddy”. If you get to keep him, you’re definitely changing it. They also gave you a spare leash so that you wouldn’t have to leave him in the car while you shop.

It’s a pitifully flimsy thing, but the dog seems leashed trained and does tug. Could probably let him off it and he’d stay glued to your side.

The shopping is even weirder. He doesn’t seem very distracted by treats or food, only snaps at other dogs when they get into his personal space. Otherwise, he just stays right next to you, tongue occasionally lapping at your hanging fingers.

“Beautiful dog,” a man says to you. An older guy, rugged, looking at toys.

You shift. “Thank you.”

“Should really be feeding a beast like that a raw diet.”

“Raw diet?”

“What they get in the wild. All that processed shite ain’t good for ‘em.”

You thank him for the advice over the dog’s grumbling. A quick internet search on your phone reveals it’s not a bad idea, actually. Not too expensive either.

“Raw it is,” you muse.

He tilts his head, make a low “woof”. You scratch absently at his ears as you continue shopping. Let him pick toys - his favorite a squeaky grenade of all things that he refuses to put down. You get a big matching set of food and water bowls, a cushy dog bed, a parasite repellent. Even some dog pads in case he’s not house trained.

You stall in the leash aisle, a bit overwhelmed by the choices of leashes and collars and harnesses.

“How do you feel about pink…?”

Snort.

“Yeah didn’t think so. I didn’t like the rhinestones anyway. You’d probably end up eating one and shitting glitter.”

A long whine.

“Oh, sorry, is that embarrassing? Poor love.”

The gentlest scrape of big teeth at your knuckles. You chuckle and tap two fingers on his sandpaper tongue. His head jerks back, tongue flicking in offense.

“S’what you get, dummy.”

Shaking your head, turn back to the selection. The pup huffs, shakes his head, and noses at something lower. It’s a deep green - army, you think the shade is called - collar with a silver buckle instead of a snap clip.

“Not bad,” you muse. “Matches the whole woodsy vibe we’ve got going.”

You find the matching leash and harness set, dropping it in your cart. You receive several more compliments on your big gorgeous dog, though he refuses to let anyone pet him. You awkwardly make excuses that he’s a recent rescue and try to avoid further conversation.

The last stop is at the kiosk for a tag. You can’t just let him go without one, but you despise officially naming him “Buddy.”

You end up just putting your name, number, and address on there. A matte black heart engraved with silver.

“What do you think?” you ask, offering it for a sniff.

The dog doesn’t even pretend to be interested, just takes the opportunity to drag his tongue over your wrist again. You huff and wipe off on your pants.

“Gonna have to take another bath at this rate.”

You ignore his grumble - it’s uncanny at this point, how quick he is to respond - and guide him out to the car. He hops into the passenger seat, flops over into your lap first chance he gets. You have to nudge his snout away from your crotch again, but he seems satisfied with a hand smoothing over his head.

Home is warm when you arrive. You set up your new dog’s things, buckle him into his new collar, tag and all.

“There,” you coo, dropping smooches all over his head. “Look at how handsome you are, sweet boy! Can I have a kiss?”

You yelp as he barrels you over onto your back, well over 100 pounds of wolf-dog stretching over you. You turn your face away as he licks at your mouth, trying to get inside. You remember reading somewhere that that’s a wolf thing; just another tick in the “hybrid” box.

“Gross, gross! Nooooo,” you laugh, covering his snout. You squeal as his tongue flickers between two fingers. “Nasty boy! You’re so rude!!”

He finally lets you up with much coaxing, looking far too pleased with himself.

You make yourself dinner, providing your dog with scraps of chicken and unseasoned veggies based on your online reading. He seems happy with the offering, eats it all up with gusto.

As the evening comes, you stretch out on the couch. Finally feel brave enough to put on a scary movie now that you’ve got a big-ass deterrent.

Your dog even climbs up to cuddle, head on your chest while you hug him through scary parts. The really interesting part comes at the end, during the climax.

“Heeeeeere’s Johnny!”

Your new companion perks up, eyes on the screen.

“Oh? Is… is that your name? Is your name Johnny?”

His head snaps around to you, ears straight up and eyes bright.

“Johnny…” you croon, trying it out.

He makes a little “boof” noise and wriggles closer.

“Johnny baby,” you continue, grinning. “Johnny boy. John John the bon bon.”

It’s utter nonsense, but it makes his tail thump against the cushions, leaving slobbery kisses of excitement all over your neck and jaw.

“Alright alright!” you laugh, dropping a kiss on the top of his nose. “Johnny it is. Thank fuck I don’t have to come up with a name. Was thinking of calling you Philip or Simon or something.”

You yelp as he starts to make gagging sounds, nearly kicking him off the couch before it seems to subside.

“Good lord, bud,” you breathe as he grumbles and settles his head on your thigh, puffing out a big breath through his nose. “You’re gonna be a handful.”

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Masterlist

#cod #thoughts™️#my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic

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potter-imagines · 11 months

Text

Brat (Satoru Gojo x Reader)

Prompt: Satoru and his girlfriend Y/n are in an argument over his celebrity crush on Inoue Waka. Y/n is ignoring Satoru which absolutely drives him crazy.

Pairing: Satoru x reader

Warnings: some swearing, light light light smut (making out), gojo being gojo

Word Count: 7k

Notes: this is set broadly around season 2 episode 2 plot, with some clear changes from the original episode. riko and suguru are included.

“You changed your home screen?” Suguru commented nonchalantly. He took notice of the sudden alteration to his friend’s phone almost immediately. The difference wasn’t hard to spot seeing as the last two years all Satoru had used for his background images were various photos of his girlfriend, Y/n, whom he loved showing off.

Suguru was accustomed to the photos being circulated in a never ending pattern, Y/n and Satoru at the beach, Y/n in a scandalous position she beat him into removing, Y/n sleeping on his chest, Y/n and him sharing sweets, Y/n on her birthday grinning widely as she sat in front of her cake, the couple doing mud masks together, Y/n in front of the eiffel tower, and so on, however it was entirely new for him to see the famous, bikini clad Japanese model as his friend's home screen instead of his girlfriend. Suguru’s brow was raised as Satoru chuckled to himself.

“To Inoue Waka.” Gojo smiled in triumph, like he was in some war that he had finally found the upper hand in. “Y/n and I are in a fight- it’s certain to get a reaction out of her.”

Despite his explanation, Suguru found himself lost in confusion. Only a night prior to leaving for their mission to protect and deliver the star plasma vessel, Geto had been sitting in attendance as he witnessed the couple's one of many bickering sessions. He really couldn’t blame Y/n much, seeing as he also found himself disagreeing with the white haired prodigy on the regular as well, yet this fight was one hundred percent, without a doubt in his mind, Satoru Gojo’s fault. Being as the argument was his wrong doing, Suguru couldn’t understand why his friend would sink himself deeper in the grave with his strong willed girlfriend rather than admit he messed up. And he certainly couldn’t see how an image of another woman- a model their argument steamed from, in a bikini too tight her boobs were practically over spilling from, would help his case.

The pair seemed to forget where they were until the young voice of the vessel of Tengen-sama herself reminded them of her presence.

“Listen to me!” Riko shouted, irritation lacing her words. The young girl was set to explode off on the boys like a firecracker for their rude behavior in dismissing her heartfelt declaration on becoming one with Tengen-sama and Tengen-sama one with her, when suddenly the mention of the feminine name caught her attention. “Wait, Y/n?” She questioned. Riko didn’t see another female insight besides Kuroi but she sure hoped there was a sane female mind among the brainless men sitting among her.

At her words, the man with hair white as snow leaned against the couch and ran a hand along his face. He narrowed his gaze, giving the girl a leer as if he found it ridiculous he had to explain who this Y/n was to her.

“My strikingly beautiful, insanely stubborn, bratty, gorgeous girlfriend.” He moaned as his head fell back against the sofa, like the explanation was difficult enough. Through his dark rimmed glasses Gojo looked over to Riko, changing the topic all together. “I bet you don’t have many friends if you talk like that.”

“We won’t have to feel bad sending you off.” Suguru muttered.

“I talk normally at school!” She expressed in an exacerbated tone, then quickly stepped forward pointing an accusing finger in the white haired man’s face. “And it’s you who shouldn’t have any friends! You certainly don’t deserve a girlfriend if you’re calling her a brat behind her back, you should be ashamed of yourself!” She reprimanded.

Suguru lifted his gaze, intrigued by her final comment. Satoru didn’t actually think of his girlfriend as a brat, but of course Riko didn’t understand how the couple worked and there was no time to explain how Gojo called his girlfriend a brat in an endearing way- unlike his usage for it towards her. When Gojo used it towards Riko, he meant it. If they had the time, Geto might even explain how Y/n commonly refers to her boyfriend as a ‘trust fund baby’ or ‘a prick’, both of which are factual, yet it’s out of love between the two.

Satoru ignored her quip, finding her opinion on his relationship totally useless. He knew his love for Y/n was larger than his will to live, yet he saw no point in expressing that to this girl. Riko didn’t know one thing about his relationship with Y/n so why did he care what the girl thought? Sure, he probably did sound like a complete jerk, however he couldn’t care less if the star plasma vessel before him found him to be a bad person for what she was hearing.

Suguru glanced at Satoru, curious to see if the sorcerer was going to give a reaction however the six eye holder simply scrolled away on his phone, searching for the perfect image of his celebrity model crush to use as his lock screen.

“School…” She mumbled out. “Kuroi, what time is it?!”

Satoru, Suguru, and Kuroi all sat scattered around the abandoned outdoor pool of Renchoku Girls' Junior High, all thinking of different things. Kuroi found herself reflecting on the time she spent practically raising the young girl who would soon be sacrificing herself as a vessel. Suguru’s mind wandered to how they were going to keep Riko safe until making it to Jujutsu High. All Satoru could think about was why his girlfriend wouldn’t answer his calls. Dangling his shoes above the water, Satoru kicked at the murky water in vex as yet another call went unanswered.

“Huh?! She keeps sending me straight to voicemail- Suguru, let me borrow your phone!” Satoru failed to turn around as he extended his arm behind himself, impatiently awaiting Geto’s cellphone.

Begrudgingly Suguru dug his phone out from his side pocket and handed the cell phone over to his hysterical friend. He had already seen this play out a million times before and was positive the outcome would be no different; Gojo does something easily avoidable and pisses Y/n off, they get into an argument because it physically pains Gojo to admit his wrong doings, Y/n ignores him, he pretends he’s fine and acts as if he enjoys the distance created, that lasts for a few hours at most, then Gojo acts like a crazed person trying to get his girlfriend to respond while she is clearly still upset.

Miles away in Tokyo, Y/n saw the face of her good friend Suguru pop up on her screen. Her brain screamed it was just her idiot boyfriend trying to convince her to speak to him. Maybe it really was Suguru calling to inform her of their mission. Hesitantly, Y/n accepted the call and lifted the phone to her ear.

“Hi, pretty girl- uh?! She hung up on me!” Gojo shrieked as the line went dead on the other end. He pulled the phone away from his ear and stared the the screen in disbelief, almost as if the mobile device had zapped him like an electrical shock. His mouth hung wide, a look of absolute astonishment polarizing his features. A few moments of staring at the blank screen passed by, Gojo awaiting a returning call from his love to declare it was all some prank, yet nothing came. Suguru outstretched his hand towards his friend,

“Satoru, can I have my phone back?”

The blue eyed man gave an over exaggerated groan then carelessly tossed the cellular device back to its rightful owner.

“Fine. Ugh! Can’t believe how dramatic she’s being! Just wait until I get back to Jujutsu High and don’t share any of my mochi with her. She’s going to have to wait at least a week until I give her that necklace I bought.” He huffed like a child. Resting his chin in the palm of his hand, Satoru gazed out at the pool. From behind he could hear a chuckle from his friend, causing him to turn his head. As expected, Suguru was chuckling to himself at his expense. Squinting his eyes, Satoru sent a scowl, unimpressed at Suguru’s amusement over his situation.

“Well, you did go on an entire rant to her about how hot Inoue Waka is, how she’s your dream girl, then you told Y/n you’re only dating her because Inoue Waka hasn’t returned any of your fanmail-”

“That was a joke.” Satoru dismissed his argument, shaking his head, still playing a blind eye to his wrong doings.

“And you said Y/n is lucky to be dating you… so, one might call her response reasonable.” Sure, Suguru was Satoru’s friend first, but he was also Y/n’s friend and he had no issue telling Satoru the truth when he was in the wrong, like he was now. “Not to mention the new background which is sure to warm her heart.” Suguru pointed out. Gojo preferred to convince himself that his partner was wrong, although the nagging voice in the back of his head claimed otherwise. An abrupt quip from Geto on two of his cursed spirits no longer roaming around Riko sent all three sprinting to find her location, and still, even while the choir girls and sensei fawned over him, Gojo could not stop replaying his earlier fight with Y/n, wondering what he could do to get a response from her.

Satoru and Riko were currently running from the chapel on her school grounds- well, Satoru was running while he had the young school girl hoisted by the back of her uniform. An unexpected attack had caused a bump in the road and now Gojo had to protect the girl on his own until he could find Suguru, not that the task would be difficult by any means, Satoru simply had his mind elsewhere. Speaking of elsewhere, his cell phone started ringing from his side pocket, and before he could reach for the mobile device, the young girl plucked it out in one motion. Satoru went to steal his phone back when she raised the phone to her ear and, as if it belonged to her, answered the call meant for Satoru.

“Eh? Give that here-” Gojo reached his hand to snatch his phone back from Riko, yet instead she pulled the device right to her ear and began rambling. If she wasn't on the mission Satoru was certain he’d have dropped her off the building right then and there, but he had no time to make another effort to yank the phone as he needed to reach higher ground. It wasn’t until Gojo heard the sound of his girlfriend’s voice that his heart dropped straight to his ass. ‘Oh no’, he thought.

“Is this Y/n?” The girl eagerly asked. A far off voice replied, making Gojo reach out once more to snatch his phone back, only for the vessel to jerk her head away from his grasp. He knew there was no time to stop, he had to get to higher ground and then he could steal his phone back and make things right with his girlfriend- he just hoped Riko and her big mouth wouldn’t taint that chance for him.

Before he could try to reason with the girl and convince her not to say anything more, Riko began rambling and there was nothing he could do to stop her. Gojo could sense another curse user in their perimeter and knew it was essential for his focus to remain on keeping the vessel safe, even if she was a pain in his ass.

“My name is Riko- yes, I am! Listen, your boyfriend is a total selfish, inconsiderate, self obsessed jerk! He barged into my choir class all high and mighty and bathed in the attention as the girls swarmed him- he even took his stupid little glasses off for them to all swoon over his eyes! He was totally leaning into their lust for him! My sensei even gave him her phone number-”

“Ah! Hey! Give me my phone back- are you trying to get me murdered?!” Nope, ah uh, not happening, Gojo thought as he tore his cellphone away from her hands. Riko turned to look at him, but the mix of fear and absolute terror on his face kept her words at bay. He sent the girl a cold glare, electric blue eyes narrowed in frustration. “My girlfriend is-”

The abrupt sound of his beloved girlfriend screaming at him sent Satoru back to reality as he glanced at the phone screen, then resentfully lifted the mobile to his ear.

“Hi, princess- why’re you yelling?! I don’t know what this crazy girl is talking about-”

Even Riko was experiencing a small twang of regret as the manic shouting on the opposite end of the line seemed to worsen with every passing second. As far as only knowing the cocky sorcerer for less than a full day, this change in posterior surprised her. Riko was taken aback to see him practically cowering at the words the girl seemed to be seething. All day he had been ranting and raving about how powerful he was- clearly the conceited type, yet here he was nearly shaking like a leaf as his girlfriend scolds him. Riko wonders for a brief moment if she should’ve minded her own business.

A minute more of screaming and cursing passed until Satoru seemed to find his voice, or rather thought of a viable excuse, and nervously cut the girl off.

“I’ve got to go, a curse user attacked! See you later, my love!” He hurriedly smacked his finger against the red button on the bottom of the phone, desperate to end the call as quickly as humanly possible. Riko stared up at him as she dangled above the ground, and as their eyes met, Gojo rolled his, displaying his anger towards the girl as broad as daylight.

Gojo scoffed down at the girl as he continued to hoist her above the earth by the back of her shirt, carrying her as if she was a briefcase, or bag of groceries, though certainly not as one should hold a human. Riko huffed, folding her arms across her chest, but Gojo paid no mind to her emotions, too upset with her actions and interjecting herself in his personal relationship. Jumping to the building to their right, a childlike huff heaved from his chest.

“Jeez, you’re really a handful, brat. Now I’ve got more of a mess waiting at Jujutsu High for me.”

After the pair met up with Suguru and Kuroi, the four were beyond ready to be inside the safety barrier of Jujutsu High and left at once. After arriving at the school, the sun had long since fallen and the sky was teetering between a navy and black shade. Suguru gave his partner a curt nod, gesturing his head towards the dorm rooms, insisting he could handle escorting Riko into the tombs of the star corridor. Satoru sent his friend a grateful smile, bid the vessel and her guardian a farewell, then took off for the dorms. A small, minute, fraction of him was going to miss the kid, but she agreed to her destiny and up until now, seemed relatively pleased with her choice. Satoru jogged up the steps of the dormitory until he finally reached the fourth floor, the floor only occupied by female students. It wasn’t hard to locate Y/n’s room as he had snuck in past curfew more times than he could count, he reached her door with ease.

His knuckles tapped against the wooden door, allowing less than a fair second to pass before he jimmied the handle. Usually a locked door would be a sign to walk away and try again in the morning, but Satoru only saw it as a slight hiccup. Pulling a credit card from his back pocket, Satoru slid the heavy black card through the slit between the frame and the door itself, shimming the card down to the lock while simultaneously twisting the knob back and forth. He gave the handle one quick turn to the left and abruptly the door swung open causing him to stumble less than graciously into the dimly lit room.

Creeping in, Gojo carefully shut the door behind him and fully stepped into the dorm. The pink clock on her desk flashed half past midnight, but he knew his night owl of a girlfriend was sure to be awake, despite the eerie silence in the room. Tiptoeing his way towards the bed in the corner, Gojo let out a whisper,

“Princess, I’m home! Are you awake?”

He sat himself on the edge of the mattress, placing the large shopping bag by his feet as he cautiously examined the heap hidden under a pile of blankets. Running his hand up and down the smooth fleece, Satoru could feel someone shifting around underneath. He leaned his head down, bending his body at an awkward angel, to rest it on top of what he assumed to be her side- that was until an elbow pulled back from under and collided sharply with his temple.

A pained yelp sounded as he jumped back in surprise and fell to the floor causing a ‘thud’ to sound out. The figure on the bed threw the covers off her head as her fiery leer met Gojo’s stunned expression.

“No.” She sneered. Though this did not deter the boy as he had previously prepared himself for an attitude filled reunion- especially due to how their last conversation had ended. Propping himself up to his feet once more, Satoru was determined to try again.

“I brought you presents- look!” He rustled through the paper bag and yanked out four neatly wrapped parcels, and smiled while shoving his outstretched arms towards the glaring girl. However she refused to move, and instead continued murdering the sorcerer with her deathly scowl instead. Gojo let out a dramatic sigh, gesturing to the boxes in his arms once more. “C’mon, pretty girl, you gotta open the gifts-”

“Why don’t you go give it to those choir school girls- or what about their instructor-” A taunting laugh fell from her pink lips. “Better yet, send it to Inoue Waka and see if she finally responds to your love letters!”

“Oh, c’mon, pumpkin! Are you really still upset about that?” Gojo whined. Here he was, bearing gifts in hand, and she was still angry about something that happened so, so long ago? Gojo ran his calloused hand across his face.

“Still upset? It just happened today!”

“If it’s any consolation, those school girls weren’t even in high school so they were way too young for me anyhow.” And none of them compared to you, he wanted to add. Y/n tossed from her position in the bed so her face was now peeking out between covers as her eyes flared. If the situation wasn’t so serious, Gojo would reach out to pinch at the cute chub of her cheek and comment on how adorable she appeared, yet he knew better than to try to weasel his way out of this one.

“Ah, so you were flirting with a bunch of children and a cougar? Sounds a lot better that way, Satoru.” She shot back, sass soaking her words. Her rebuttal had Gojo rethinking his words. The issue with dating a woman like Y/n was she was far more intelligent then himself and simply didn’t fall for his handsome looks and boyish charm, which Gojo relied on when it came to the opposite sex. Not that this was a bad thing, so to say, it was actually one of the thousands of reasons why he loved her so much- she wasn’t shallow minded and saw him far beyond his outward appearance. Setting the presents on her freshly organized desk, Satoru ran a hand through his hair and awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Technically, it wasn’t flirting in the sense you’re thinking of, I had to distract the class with my charm and good looks so I could sneak Master Tengen’s vessel out of class- I wasn’t lying about us being under attack by another curse user, that was true!”

“What about her number, huh?” Y/n scoffed.

“She offered it, but I never accepted it.” Luckily he was telling the truth and Y/n believed him. Despite trusting his confession, she didn’t do anything more.

A silence greeted the couple, neither certain of what to say next. Y/n lifted the blankets from her lap and stood from her bed in front of her boyfriend. Sure the gesture was small, but Satoru took her willingness to step closer to his frame as a good thing as his arms reached out to pull her body against his in a bone crushing hug. His forehead pressed against her shoulder while he kissed the spot. Y/n thought about pulling away for a second, she thought about making him work harder to gain her forgiveness, but his arms felt far too comforting around her body for her to shake him off. With his head buried in her shoulder, Gojo glanced up to Y/n, a softness in his eyes as he spoke,

“Do you forgive me, pretty girl? I’m sorry I made you upset… I don’t like it when you’re mad at me.”

When she didn’t answer right away, Gojo lifted his head from her so he could properly look her in the eyes. He could visibly see the clouds of anger clearing as she quietly stared back at him. His hand then moved to wrap around the side of her face, his gentleness causing her to melt against his palm. She desperately wanted to smack his hand away, curse him then send him off to his room for the night, but she couldn’t. His touch sparked a series of shivers through her body which only made her long for him to pull her closer.

A grin broke across his features as he accepted her lack of resistance as approval for his apology and began to move closer towards her face. If she slapped him away, then he’d know he misread the signs, but she didn’t. Their faces were so close in distance Y/n could smell the welcoming scent of peppermint swirling from his parted lips. These were the times she found herself grateful for his sweet tooth, it usually made for sweeter kisses. Wordlessly, Y/n pushed herself to close the distance and pressed her lips to connect to his. Gojo hums as he dips his head lower to gain advantage as he deepens the exchange.

His mouth is warm against hers, inviting, as he kisses her. She can feel his tongue as it slips inside her mouth, almost like it was entering its second home, seeing as easily as it made itself comfortable and friendly against her own. Her fingers gripped at his white strands, pulling his face closer. All the frustration, all the emotions she had been experiencing towards him for the last day melted into the kiss. Satoru had one hand wrapped around her waist, holding her middle against his hips and his other swooped up around her lifted arm, leaving his hand to rest on the back of her neck, not letting her pull away even if she wanted to.

Y/n could taste the strawberry chapstick on his lips, the same chapstick he had stolen from her only a week prior. He wasn’t lying, the taste was addictive. Gojo’s lips captured her bottom in a heated move, sucking on the skin with the slightest hint of friction as his teeth light delved into the plumpness. She had no time to muffle the moan passing through her, to which he smirked at the sound.

A sense of shame washed over her once she realized he had won the silent battle. Instead, Y/n yanked at his hair from the root and pulled his lips back against hers, kissing him with such force he nearly stumbled back a footing. Gojo’s eyes widened in the middle of the kiss, surprised at her boldness and the way her tongue was invading his mouth. He could feel the material of his uniform growing tighter as his jeans constricted against his crotch. Y/n sucked on the silky smoothness of his tongue, small smacks sounding as she dominated the heated makeout.

A shudder danced down his spine at the feeling of her hand pressed against his groin, his hips subconsciously grinding against her palm. Rubbing her hand along the zipper Y/n toyed with the cool metal, silently teasing her boyfriend as a means of revenge for his actions. Just as she began pulling the slider down, her lips pulled away from him at once, much to Satoru’s disappointment. His mouth hung low as a small whine sounded.

Y/n simply ignored his childish ways, and reached for the bottom of her shirt, causing him to smile once more. Peeling the shirt that belonged to him off her body, Y/n threw it to the floor then fell back against her mattress, motioning Gojo over with the flick of her wrist. Satoru stalked towards her on the bed, almost like a predator sneaking up on it’s prey. His eyes held a look of hunger she rarely saw but bathed in the heat searing from it.

Climbing over her body, Satoru placed himself so he was looming above her, his zipper hanging half undone. Y/n tilted her head, pretending not to understand the look on his face. Gojo shook his head then leaned his face so his lips could skim against her exposed neck. He let his mouth trail up the side of her skin, hot breath fanning over her coolness. His hands lifted to grope at the covering of her bra, giving the material a tug. He came to a stop once his mouth was pressed against the shell of her ear, his voice sending a wave of pleasure straight to her core,

“I love it when my princess is being a little brat… think I need to put you back in your place.”

Without warning his lips attached to her neck and harshly began to suck at the skin, surely leaving a trail of blotchy red marks. Y/n’s whole body hitched at the overwhelming rush of excitement, her hips lifting only to be shoved back into the mattress by his own which hovered barely an inch above.

She let her head fall to the side, allowing Satoru more access to her neck, her eyes hardly opened as she basked in the tingling his mouth brought. Hands traveled up and down his back, nails lightly scratching against him as her body wormed from his lips making love to her skin. Y/n nearly closed her eyes all together, she nearly allowed herself to get lost in his kiss, that was until a distant ‘ding’ caught her attention and the phone beside her head lit up.

A text notification from Suguru popped up on Satoru’s phone, but that wasn’t what caught Y/n’s attention, no, her fixation settled in on the nearly naked photo of the famous model Inoue Waka. The same Inoue Waka that sparked the original fight between the couple, the same Inoue Waka Satoru called hot, the one he declared his dream girl, and same Inoue Waka Satoru said he’d be dating if she’d give him a chance- Y/n was fuming in rage. Pushing both hands on his chest, Y/n physically shoved Satoru off her body causing him to tumble off the side of the bed. His hands flailed out in an attempt to grab for stability, although failed as he rolled to the wood floor, his back smacking against the ground. Gojo laid still on the floor, his mind still trying to process the whole event as he rubbed at the ache on the back of his head. Sitting up straight she reached out for his phone and held it in his face as she screamed,

“Are you fucking kidding me, Satoru?! You put Inoue Waka as your background?!”

“Hehe… that was meant to be a joke…” The fear in his voice transcribed in shaky words as Y/n chucked the phone at him, barely missing his face as he lunged to the side. She snatched his shirt off the ground and threw it back on, covering her chest as Gojo scrambled to grab his cellphone.

“Fine, I’ve got an even funnier joke for you,” A taunting smile full of hidden anger laced her lips as her finger jutted towards her door. “Get out!”

His face fell all at once, a deep pout tattooed on his lips. Maybe he should’ve listened to Suguru earlier when he insisted this was a bad idea- if he’d had listened to Suguru, the two would probably be tangled in her bed sheets by now, but no, Gojo had to press her buttons even further. Opening his phone, Satoru clicked on the most recent image of Y/n and faster than the speed of light, set the photo to his new lock and home screen.

“Aw, c’mon! I’ll change it right now- see! Look, pumpkin, it’s a picture of my favorite girl-” Gojo flipped his phone around, allowing the bright screen to illuminate Y/n’s face. She glanced up, and Satoru watched in utter confusion as her expression went from upset to lividly irate. His heartbeat multiplied in rate, obviously terrified of the disturbing reaction she held to seeing her face on his phone, or what he thought was her face.

“You fucking asshole.” She growled. If this was his idea of a practical joke, Y/n was ready to make him single. Gojo’s eyes grew like a mass, quickly turning his phone back only to see what caused such a profuse reaction. The image hadn’t changed and was the same exact photo as previously of Inoue Waka propped up on her knees sitting in the sand as her breasts nearly poured out of her excuse of a bikini.

“Shit! I promise I thought I hit save- just give me a second, I’m panicking!” He screeched. His fingers moved at the speed of light as Satoru helplessly tried to set his girlfriend’s smiling face as his background, hoping to at least save some ground between the couple. What he failed to notice in his alarmed state was Y/n reaching out for her phone, scrolling through her photo album and setting a new image on hers.

“No, no, it’s fine, Gojo, really. I’ll just change my background to a picture of my favorite guy.” The smile she wore was not one of love, no it held more malice, evilness like she had just completed a plot to end the world. Satoru’s head nudged to the side, his eyebrows pulled together in a line of skepticism.

“I’m already your background, princess…” He mumbled. Clarity was granted as the girl tossed her cellphone, to which he caught with ease. Clicking the power button, Gojo gave a dramatized gasp.

“Is… is that Suguru?! How’d you get this picture? Did he send this to you? Oh my god I’m going to kill him-”

“I think he looks cute.” Y/n smirked. Obviously it was all a ruse to get back at him for his immaturity, but she couldn’t help the sense of pride creeping up at the over the top reaction from Gojo. The photo itself came from a night out the couple shared, one with their usual third wheel, Geto. Four shots in and five mixed drinks, Suguru was having quite the time, which led to a gallery full of images that he insisted the three took together- and if Gojo would look a little closer, he’d notice the small wisps of pure white hair sticking out from the edge of the cropped image, but Y/n didn’t need to tell him that, it was far more amusing to see him frantic.

Large blue eyes pleaded up at her as Gojo kneeled in front of the bed, his hands folded like prayer.

“Princess, please put my picture back! I changed mine back to you- please!”

Her finger tapped against the blush to her cheek, pretending to be lost in thought. This was pure torture as Gojo continued to beg at her feet.

“Hm. I’m not sure- I do have a picture of that adorable first year Haibara in there somewhere…” No, absolutely not, that was Satoru’s last straw. No way in hell would his beautiful girlfriend have a photo of that first year sorcerer always obsessed with impressing Suguru as her background- never ever! Gojo was already annoyed their peer favored his best friend over himself, but having his own girlfriend joke about giving them attention, fuck no. Holding her phone above his head and out of her teasing reach, Satoru screeched,

“Ah! You’re going to replace me with a first year?! What?!”

Folding her arms in a crossed fashion against her chest, Y/n gave the hysterical teen a ‘told you so’ glare.

“Now you know how I felt.” She said matter-of-factly.

Satoru had to physically bite his tongue to keep the word ‘brat’ from tumbling past his lips. Yes, he used the term as one of endearment, but that was when the two were in their usual jovial mood- now was not the time and now. Gojo understood what she was hinting at, he got the message she was referring to their earlier argument and the various comments he had made towards the famous model, but that didn’t mean he agreed with her. In his mind, there was a clear difference between joking about having a crush on someone in the public eye and joking about having a crush on a fellow classmate.

“Well at least my background was a celebrity that I have no real chance with. If you asked that first year out he’d probably say yes on the spot then pass out- and Suguru would say yes just to spite me!” His voice was teetering a cry as he threw his head against the bed.

“I would never actually ask them out, Satoru. In case you haven’t noticed, I love you. Why do you think I was so upset about all those things you said before you and Suguru left? You basically admitted I’m not your dream girl but some famous, perfectly perfect model, who I look nothing like, is. Then you went on about how lucky I should feel being with you, as if I’m not already insecure about our relationship.” Gojo’s heart sunk at her words, regret filling his insides. “It hurt my feelings, Satoru.”

“I’m sorry, princess… I really am. I never meant to hurt you, I guess I thought I was being funny but… it’s really not true.” For the first time in maybe ever, Satoru’s tone sounded different. His voice no longer held that casual cockiness and confidence it usually oozed, no, he sounded timid… possibly the most serious he’s ever sounded in his life. The man who played life like it was the board game itself now stood before the woman he loved looking scared. Y/n’s face scrunched in question, slightly taken aback by the sincerity he expressed.

“What’s not true?”

“What I said about Inoue Waka, she’s not my dream girl, you are.” Satoru stated. He needed Y/n to see the truth to his words, to believe she was the only girl for him, because she was. As fun as it was to tease his girlfriend, it was only amusing when she was in on the joke. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her. Satoru could see now how truly uncomfortable she was with his comments and it made him feel like a piece of shit knowing he planted a seed of insecurity in her mind.

It was almost as if Gojo could see the shield Y/n placed around herself, around her heart. She was a hard one to crack, but getting to be the soul she finally let inside meant the entire word to Satoru and he had no intention of breaking that trust ever again.

“And I’m the one who’s so fucking lucky to get to call you mine. You’re everything I could ever ask for in a girlfriend and more. You put up with me and you’re the only person who ever laughs at my jokes- and you know all my favorite snacks and treats… you even know all the things I’m scared of, which losing you is at the top of my list. I’m sorry that I ever made you doubt us, or made you feel insecure… I really am sorry, Y/n.”

The room turned quiet as Gojo’s confession hung in the air. Y/n didn’t speak, she wouldn’t even move. Instead, her eyes planted on the blanket in her lap, mindlessly losing herself in the pattern while her mind raced, replaying his words over and over again. Gojo examined her odd behavior, part of him perplexed at her lack of response. Y/n had a response for everything, for every situation. For the first time in their two year relationship Gojo was witnessing her in a speechless state, and for as much as he joked about her bratness and stubborn ways, he hated not hearing her voice. A minute passed until Satoru decided he had enough of missing her sound. As he opened his mouth, about to ask if she was okay, a shout sounded from her throat.

“Ugh! I hate when you do that!” Y/n cried out. There was a thin row of salty tears teetering her waterline. Dread filled Gojo at the sight. He never meant to make her cry. Standing to his feet Satoru sat himself next to her on the bed, his hands reaching out to grasp her own in trepidation. His thumb drew anxious circles across her skin, a method he’d learned that usual calmed her down, yet her tears steadily fell.

“W-What? Do what?” He asked in a wavering voice. With her free hand, Y/n harshly rubbed at her eyes, wiping the tears that continued to roll down her reddening cheeks. A few splashed against his hand that clutched hers, but he didn’t care. A scarlet ring formed around her e/c eyes as she glanced up to Satoru, a mix of agitation and sadness filling her.

“When you’re all sweet and say things that make my insides feel like they’re all mushy and- ugh, I hate how much I love you. It’s so annoying!” She cried out.

A wave of solace splash his bay at her words, along with the returning embrace as her hand squeezed his. He let out a sigh of relief, grateful his words had caused good tears this time. Bringing her hand up to his face, Gojo danced a trail of kisses along her knuckles and smiled. Still holding her hand, Satoru lightly urged the girl to lay back on the mattress and he climbed in next to her. Her head rested softly against the pillow, Gojo’s arm encircling her waist as he turned her body to face his. Once he could see her beautiful face, he let his hand wrap under her chin with a feather light grip.

“I happen to love how much you love me, pretty girl.”

His lips pressed a sweet kiss to her temple, then placed another to her forehead, then lastly a chaste and loving kiss to her lips. Y/n nuzzled her head against his touch, the shakiness to her breathing beginning to slow. Gojo removed his hand from her chin as he felt her wiggling closer until her head was laid up on his chest. The sound of his heart beat echoed in her ear and she cuddled into his warmth. A comfortable blanket of peace took control of the room as the couple enjoyed the feeling of holding one another. Satoru’s hand ran up and down her back in an act of comfort. His touch always made her feel more at ease. The moment of tranquility lasted a good portion until Y/n briefly pulled herself away from Gojo, an unfamiliar gleam to her gaze. Satoru tilted his head, unfamiliar to the unusual look, when Y/n lifted her hand to stroke the side of his cheek, as she spoke in a mask of sweetness,

“I swear Satoru, if you ever set Inoue Waka as your homescreen again, I’ll murder you then chop your body up and dump it in the ocean.” One might expect a rational response to such a threat would be fear, not Satoru Gojo. A cheesy grin broke out as his hold tightened around her body, pulling her closer to him.

“I know you will, princess, and that’s why I love you… even if you are a brat at times.”

Her hand smacked against her arm, faking a pout while snuggling further in.

“Shut up, you love me because I’m a brat.” She remarked. They both knew it was true. Satoru could feign annoyance over her attitude, he could pretend she was too ‘difficult’ for him, but in all honesty, bratty was exactly the way Satoru loved her.

“You know me too well.”

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo imagine #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk #jjk x reader #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto #suguru x reader #satoru gojo imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen

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hotchfiles · 3 months

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [COME UNBOUND HERE] ❞ — NSFW ; MDNI!

pairing: hotch x fem!bau!reader. summary: “completely self-reliant, you really don’t need me at all, do you?” in which hotch gets completely pussy whipped after seeing you taking down an unsub. content warnings: making out, foul language, sex, unprotected p in v with no mentions of birth control (no breeding kink just lazy writing), sub!hotch if you squint, switch!reader, nipple play, scratching, lip biting, THEY FUCK ALRIGHT. MDNI, this is a 18+ fic. word count: 1.7k a/n: requested by @mischiefmoons and her godsent filthy mind. i donnnt prooof read shiiiit.

Aaron wasn’t one to admit to having a type, sure, he knows it’s human nature to look for similar traits when choosing partners throughout life, but he was a romantic at heart (and a sweet talker at that!), he secretly enjoyed keeping the magic of just love alive, and more than that, he simply adored the way you would roll your eyes and laugh cruelly at him, your palm hitting his arm in a light slap each time he told you his type is you.

Truthfully though, most of that was all talk from his sweet soft spot for you, everyone knew exactly his type.

He couldn’t help but fall for confidence, every time someone confident and beautiful laughed at his terribly dry jokes he would feel his lungs tighten up, that was definitely one of the first things that made him so drawn to you, the fact you were so funny and incredibly gorgeous resulting in his everlasting love and downright depraved lust for you.

Today though, Aaron found out another trait of his ideal type: Could easily overpower an unsub before himself could even get to his ankle holster for his gun, before he could even try to protect you.

Your competence was never a question, an SSA like the rest of the team, twice a year having no problem at all in your evaluations. But you were a liaison, you stayed put unless extremely necessary to have the whole team out, your experience level wasn’t the same.

He did all he could to have your back, even before you started sharing hotel room beds, but hearing the man in front of him whine in pain after you twisted his arm, the sound of at least one of his fingers cracking at your strength as you pushed him to the floor… You definitely didn’t need him to have your back, you did it yourself pretty well.

He’s surely proud, but what floods his mind really, what is now burnt to his brain, what has probably changed his whole body chemistry at this point is the way your body moved to do it, your pants clinging more to your thighs, your breasts moving with your fast heart rate, your open cleavage blouse doing nothing to help his train of thought, nor did the hint of a grin in your lips as the unsub succumbed to your grip, complaining about the pain you were so easily causing.

Focus on the job, focus on the case, he tried hard to while he passed his handcuffs to you, but fuck, how could he when you looked so unbelievably sexy doing something he has seen so many people do before?

How many times has he licked his lips in the past 20 minutes? He has lost count, but it's the only way he has to ignore the way his mouth is drying at how aroused he was about to be if he didn’t control himself. If he didn’t focus on anything else.

A few meditating breaths and unpleasant thoughts did the work for him, getting his priority back on track: The case was still going as far as he was concerned. It wasn’t done until the BAU got back to the hotel.

His avoidance to you at the precinct, not even catching him glancing as you worked didn’t strike you as odd, you were used to him needing his space and completely unaware of his conscious effort not to think of you.

It’s a happy surprise when you hear his well known knock on your door not even half an hour after arriving at the hotel, his lips gluing to yours immediately, his hands strong in their hold of your face as he kicks the door closed.

You grin into the kiss, not at all opposed to how famished he seems for you, even though you don’t understand where it came from you more than willingly follow his lead, reaching for his waist under his clothing. The cold of your fingers causes him to whine and you can’t help but take advantage of that to sink your teeth to his lower lip just the way you knew he liked it.

Aaron guides you to the bed, but unlike many times before where he would lay you down, his weight deliciously on top of you, he sits on the edge, the back of his knees touching the mattress, shoes kicked off just before. He pulls you to straddle him, his lips only leaving yours to touch the skin you had exposed: Your neck, your cleavage. His hands making sure to sink you harsher on this lap anytime you stopped moving against him even if for a second, his fingers sinking on the flash of your waist.

You have to ask, you have to know what’s gotten into him (so you might do it more in the future) and he stops his actions to stare at you, eyes dazed with lust, lips swollen from the way your mouth worked his, cheeks flushed pink like it always got when he was hot.

“Do you not have any idea of how… Alluring you looked today doing all that?” He’s breathless as he speaks, his tongue is back to your neck before you can reply or tease his choice of words. Your head falls lightly behind as you try to contain at least some of your whimpers. Hotch does no such effort, lucky his mouth is busy as you wet both of your pants with arousal, the feeling of his cock swelling up under you as addictive as ever.

You pull him closer by his tie, your mouth brushing against his ear before you spoke just so you could feel the way your warm breath made him shiver.

“All that what?” He doesn’t respond, busy taking your blouse along with your bra off, his sheer force able to break off the clasp without much effort. You force your body onto him, half for the so needed friction your nipples begged for, but mostly to get him to lay down on the bed. “All that what?” You repeat yourself, needing to hear him say it. Your hands strongly keeping his on your waist and not an inch up. The sight of your bare tits alone enough to make him try to get more friction from you, unconsciously rutting up.

“Confidently taking a man down with your bare hands, maybe?” Aaron’s reply pleases you and you let go of his hands, helping him take his dress shirt, his tie and the annoying white tank top keeping you away from scratching his stomach, “Completely self-reliant, you really don’t need me at all, do you?” He says teasingly just as you gasp to the touch of his calloused fingers to your nipples, working both at the same time.

You could honestly come just from that (and you have before, noticing how sensitive your nipples are has been a gift to him that kept on giving), but you wanted more. You palm him through his slacks, wet from his precum and your own fluids. “Wouldn’t say that, I do need you to help me with these,” you point to the bothersome remnants of clothes in the way and he has the audacity to chuckle, as if he wasn’t as desperate as you. “Because as soon as we are free of them, I can ride you the way you’re just begging me to.” Aaron can’t keep his groans contained, your crude words going straight to his dick in a way only you were able to. It was a mess of fingers unbuttoning, unzipping and hands quickly working to get rid of the slacks and underwear restricting you both.

He helps lining his cock to your entrance, but not before teasing pressing his tip to your clit, causing you both to moan, you’re as wet as you always are for him, sinking him into you all at once and the whimper leaving Aaron’s mouth is just sinful, completely at your mercy.

You set the pace and he lets you, one hand on your thigh, the other gripping one of your tits in a way he would leave not just marks, but a whole handprint. You loved it, your nails giving his chest crescent moon shaped marks and scratches all around his torso.

“Aaron–ple–put your fingers to work.” You skip the begging, the please, knowing that’s not what he wants today, you’re busy moaning his name as your pace goes to a faster rhythm to say much else, but he obeys, deliciously using one of his thumbs to draw circles over your clit, following your lead, moaning as you clenched around his cock, your wetness loud against his finger and his pelvis.

You were about to come, the imminence of your orgasm making your toes curl, “Fuck me, Aaron, hard… And fast.” You manage to say, not wanting to slow down and knowing you wouldn’t be able to keep up.

It’s like he’s been waiting for it, for your orders, and he turns you around, his weight over you as he follows your words. Hard and fast. His own pleasure building up as you helped him prop one of your legs up on his shoulder, you felt like you were melting under him, going between grabbing the sheets and his flesh as you squirmed for him.

The noises are relentless at this point, and if the walls of the hotel are cheap everyone will be able to hear his name leaving your lips like a prayer, his whimpers getting stuck in his throat and the skin to skin slapping as Aaron brought you both to orgasm, his cum going inside of you without a question, his forehead touching yours as he drops your leg and fucks deep and slow into you a few more times so you both enjoy the climax as long as possible.

“Fuck, I definitely need you for these as well.” Your tone is full of tease, referring to the orgasms he gave you seemingly effortlessly.

Aaron hums, his eyes already closed the minute his body reaches the bed, pulling you to his chest. “Then, I shall pretend you like me for more than my body and sleep here tonight.” He’s joking and would sleep cuddling you either way, so you don’t bother replying.

But god, you love him. You love him.

#lari writes sometimes #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch imagine #hotch scenario #aaron hotchner smut #hotch smut

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chuuyrr · 11 months

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TO THE STRAY.. CATS? — DAZAI OSAMU

╰➤ CW(s): gn! reader, strangers to lovers with him falling first and falling harder, fluff/romance, and mentions of karma

╰➤ SYNOPSIS: in which dazai finds interest in a citizen who feeds stray cats near his workplace

inspired by: gorgeous, lover, and karma by taylor swift !

"well, if it isn't you again!"

you gently raise your head, blinking obliviously at the young man in a long sandy coat with unkempt brown hair looming over you as you crouch down with some sardines in your palm, just outside the cafe uzumaki.

"me again?" you ask the man, tilting your head, with a sheepish little soft grin that made him feel strangely warm inside.

"yeah, you!" dazai exclaims with a playful tone of voice, a smile on his lips and a finger pointing at you, "i keep seeing you around outside my workplace feeding the cats around here."

you were, certainly, the same person he kept seeing outside the building where the agency office was, feeding stray cats in the area.

and it was all thanks to ranpo, who mentioned how stray cats had been appearing around the area more frequently, and that if it hadn't been for his super deductive ability, he would have assumed it was because of their president, fukuzawa, but instead, it was you, going up and about to them with sardines or kibbles readily available.

as dazai called you out, you let out a soft chuckle, and the sound of your sweet laughter rang in his ears like bells, "i guess it really is me."

"so, you must really like cats, huh?" dazai asks, crouching down in front of you, copying your position, his eyes observing you tenderly as you reach out to pet one of the kitties you'd been feeding.

"mhm.." you hum softly, nodding your head and chuckling once more as another cat that you had been feeding meows and approaches you. it purrs as it rubs its head against your leg.

"and it seems that they like you as well.." dazai giggles quietly, "how strange."

"strange?" you raise your head to face him again, tilting your head and smiling sweetly.

"yeah, strange," dazai affirms with a nod as he briefly turns his attention to the stray cats that were rubbing, meowing, and purring gently against you as if you were their loving owner, "cats have an unearned reputation for being cold and unloving, you know?"

"really, now?" you ask, still carrying a sweet smile that dazai was having trouble looking away from now.

"well, that's because they display affection differently than dogs and they tend to be meaner, at least that's what people say," dazai says before glancing down at the stray cats swarming you that were being affectionate and friendly, "but that doesn't seem to be the case at all, especially with you."

"you know what i think, though?" you remark softly as you start giving more sardines and kibbles to the stray cats, "cats are actually adorable, clumsy, and fun to be with."

"and that's what makes you like them?" dazai smiles at your words.

your following remarks, however, catch him off guard, "yeah, but i mostly like how cats are sensitive creatures too.. cats are karma after all."

dazai's eyes widened in astonishment, clearly and really taken off guard by your innocently sweet comments, which had morphed into something even more serious yet still engaging.

"be kind to cats, and you get kindness in return, just like this.." you explain, gently stroking the cat's body with a delicate carress as you look up to him, "be unkind, and well, cats become unkind to you too, like bite and scratch you. basically, what goes around, comes around."

dazai's breath hitched as your lovely [color] eyes ever so slightly narrowed while sparkling with a mysterious yet alluring gleam in them as you continued to speak your mind out, "cats know a person's heart like no other."

"wow.. i was definitely not expecting that," dazai exhales, amused at your choice of words, "so you're saying, karma is a cat?"

"karma is a cat indeed," you reply with a firm nod, giggling softly as you stand up on your feet after crouching for so long, prompting dazai to do the same, "but hey, that's just a rambling from a crazy cat person like me."

"hey, i might have never heard someone describe and see cats like that in a very deep sense before," dazai laughs softly, shaking his head at you, "and i might not be a cat either, but i can sense that you're a really interesting one, and a kind one too."

"well, aren't you a charmer?" you join his laughter, smiling at his words, "you're too kind."

"and you're too pretty." dazai whispers so quietly that you didn't catch that.

"huh? did you say something, mister?"

"nothing!"

dazai couldn't help but daydream more frequently at work since finally speaking with you, much to kunikida's dismay.

he's been acting strangely since he found out about you and starting seeing you around the region, which his yosano-sensei and ranpo would find hilarious and lovely.

there's simply something so enticing about you, in a positive way. you always had this beautiful glow with you whenever he watched you from afar, even if you weren't feeding stray cats and were just roaming around the neighborhood.

dazai would constantly sigh with his hands on his cheeks as he looked out the window, waiting for you to come around the corner so he could walk up to you and talk to you while you fed stray cats literally with hearts in his eyes, and he would even hurry downstairs to the first floor as soon as he saw you.

all of this may sound strange, but in reality, dazai was madly in love with you, so much so that he finds himself acting like a high school boy with a tremendous infatuation.

however, it makes dazai so happy that it makes him sad at the same time as well. you were just so gorgeous—so beautiful in his eyes.

you were a person with a kind heart and an open mind who sees the world in such a different but entirely fresh light, and dazai just can't help but want to be closer to you and just follow you wherever you go.

even if it's to the stray cats.

having said that, perhaps dazai was mistaken, especially given the manner he was behaving towards you. maybe he is more of a cat now.

he'd drop everything and trail after you like the stray cats you'd feed, eager to spend time with you, and even going out of his way to be a gentleman to you, carrying your bag for you while you went onto feeding cats, opening up the packet of cat food you had with you when you had trouble doing so.

even going out of his way to rescue a stray cat you found and pointed in the middle of the road in a panic.

at this time, dazai was also doing it for the stray cats, but he wasn't complaining. he's not a dog person and prefers cats in reality, but he really enjoys being able to do all of these things with you.

he was also typically confident and charismatic, but it didn't mean he didn't have doubts. in fact, dazai has them again when he recalls the things you told him when he finally had the courage to speak to you.

cats know a person's heart like no other.

and those words played over and over in his head like a broken record.

"[name], i'm not sure about this."

dazai can't help but be nervous as he crouches down in front of an orange tabby cat you two had come across around the area, putting out his palm, which held the few cat kibbles you had given him.

"it's just a cute little stray," you giggle at dazai.

"that's not why.." dazai tells you with a sheepish laugh. that's not what he's nervous about.

he genuinely enjoys spending time with you. he really does, but, to return to your remarks, he wasn't yet a good person. his blood was as dark as an empty void—at least, that's what dazai initially assumes until the cat walks up to him.

he tenses up a little when the cat's soft snout nudges his fingers, which feels ticklish, and instantly finds himself gasping in awe when it starts eating the cat kibbles he had in hand.

all of his doubts and hesitancy are washed away by a sensation of relief and peace as the cat purrs and nudges its head against his fingers after meowing and eating the food in his hand.

dazai's eyes light up as he looks at you with his mouth slightly parted, "i'm a cat whisperer now!"

with the cat approaching dazai and accepting the cat food he put out for it, he starts smiling ever so joyful and honestly like a child on christmas day, and you couldn't help but find it absolutely adorable of him.

"looks like you are now!" you say with a rather proud looking smile at him.

"it really likes me!" dazai exclaims, returning his gaze to the cat, who was still pushing its head on his fingers.

he then began petting and speaking to it with giddiness just like how you would to a typical cat, "hi, cat! hi! you're so friendly!"

"of course the little fella does," you giggle, squatting down next to dazai before tilting your head and continuing to grin lovingly at him, "cats are sensitive creatures, remember? it definitely knows you're a good person."

he blinks at your words, "it does?"

"yeah," you reply, reaching out your hand to pet the orange tabby once dazai has done so.

"I see.." dazai's eyes softened as he watched you smile and coo at the orange tabby he had fed with the cat kibbles you'd given him earlier.

as dazai watches you and cat interact, his smile grows larger and more genuine, and his heart begins to skip a beat.

perhaps he had already found it, slowly but surely—the light he had sought out since abandoning his old ways as dazai spent this very modest and domestic moment with you.

this opportunity to be so near to you, to indulge in something so endearing as this. he loved it.

but then dazai's phone goes off, surprising both you and the cat he was feeding.

"ah, crap. sorry! let me just take this real quick," dazai says quickly with wide eyes.

"no worries. go ahead," you reply softly, waving your free hand that wasn't caressing a cat.

dazai pulls out his own flip phone, already expecting a call from an angry kunikida, who will reprimand him and make him come back to do his pile of reports, but it was atsushi instead.

he then answers the incoming call instead of declining, and to his surprise, the work he assigned atsushi ends up being successful, as it went swimmingly more than he had predicted, with no casualties or damages, which was actually quite strange.

aside from that, atsushi had also called in to inform him that he had completed the stack of reports for him. meaning, there was no more paperwork waiting for him at the office either.

you glanced at dazai from the corner of your eye as he talks on the phone with a coworker before a pretty pleased smirk tugs on your lips as you continue to pet the orange tabby cat.

"everything alright?" you ask with an innocent smile as dazai finished answering his call.

"mhm, it's just my co-worker," dazai tells you with a smile on return as he puts his phone away, drawing his attention back to you.

"well, that's nice," you hum before tilting your head at him, your innocent gentle smile widening with anticipation.

"what are you smiling like that for all of a sudden, cutie?" dazai raises a brow at you.

"well, it's getting late, but i still have some cat food on me," you giggle at the sudden pet name from dazai as you speak, tapping your cheek with your index finger.

"and what about it?" dazai smirks, already knowing exactly where this was going.

"it means it's time for me to go look for more stray cats," you say, tilting your head with that same smile, "unless you want to come along?"

"is that your way of asking me out?" dazai jokes, his cheeks blushing slightly.

"well?" you ask him back, your smile growing wider as your cheeks begin to blush as well.

"oh, please, you already know the answer, my love," dazai shakes his head as he approaches you, already wrapping his arm around your waist and smiling as he puts his lips to your ear.

"i would follow you to the stray cats and back."

"to the stray.. cats?"

"and back."

karma is a cat allows its user to induce karma, which can be a blessing or a curse that may or may not include the bending of reality, but it is highly dependent on the target's course of action and the sincerity of the heart around the user.

#📝⸝⸝﹕misc #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bsd imagines #bsd x y/n #bsd x you #bsd dazai #bsd oneshot #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #dazai osamu x y/n #dazai osamu x you #dazai scenarios #dazai imagines

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nervoushottee · 5 months

Text

Go For It | Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: Steve has been your “movie guy” at Family Video for a while now. Little does he know that the main reason you’ve been buying these movies is to flirt with him and just maybe ask him out…

Warnings: Steve being oblivious babygirl

Note: hey hottees! Happy New Year! I hope to be writing a lot more on Tumblr💗

(Possibly might be a Smut Part 2?? Let me know if you guys want one?)

——————-

The bell chimes as you enter the door of Family Video. A smile on your lips and an intent in mind as you walk confidently toward the front counter. “There’s my favorite customer.” Steve says to you with his signature smile.

Steve Harrrington, the “boy next door”, the ex- “King Steve” or for your case, “The hot Family Video employee that has a hard time understanding that you’re flirting with him.”

For the past two weeks you’ve been coming into the movie store in need of new movies to watch. The first time you came was truly because you were in need of something new and Steve in all his strong, beautiful and delicious glory helped you no problem with finding a comedy for you and your girlfriends to watch one night.

You could hardly understand half of what he was telling you about the movie when you were purchasing it. You were too busy ogling his toned arms and the many freckles across his face. You wondered if you played your cards right, you’d be able to see if there were any more freckles in other more delicate places.

The movie he recommended wasn’t actually bad and you jokingling made him your “movie guy”. You had said it to flirt and make him laugh but Steve took it seriously. He stood proud, almost cocky saying, “If you ever need a new movie, I’m your man.” pointing his thumb towards himself as you return the movie back to him a few days later.

You did in fact let him be your man and nearly spent half your pay checks each week to come in and buy movies. You would flirt and banter with him and Steve would laugh and banter right back with you.You could tell he enjoyed your company but you weren’t too sure if he was getting what you were throwing down.

One day, you came to return a movie and Steve was on his break so Robin did it instead. The two of you both knew of each other. Being in the same classes from time to time throughout the school years but you never had any mutual friends. You both talked as Robin ringed up the movie for a return and a calm silence covered you both.

Your rings made clinking noise with every tap of your fingers with the rhythm of whatever song was playing softly through the store speakers.

That sudden calm was quickly interrupted by an eager Robin.

“I think you should just go for it.” she blurts out to you.

You turn your head to see the girl staring back at you. Not too sure (you’re pretty sure) what she was referring to you tell her as such. “Go for what?” Robin looks back to where you assume is the back room door to see if Steve was coming out.

“Ask Steven out.” she whispers to you with an amused gleam in her eyes.

You peek over to the same door Robin had looked back at only seconds before, before you lean over the counter closer to her and whisper. “You think?? Because I’ve been subtly flirting with him for almost a month and he hasn’t shown much interest.”

The short haired dirty blonde eyes widen in shock, “Pfftt. Oh he’s totally interested. Number one, I mean look at you you’re gorgeous, I mean your pretty cool gal. Number 2, Steve doesn’t know if someone is flirting with him unless he’s the one that seeks them out. I know he had this “reputation” a while back but that ship has long sailed for a while and he hasn’t been doing that well in the flirtatious department if we’re being honest.” Robin says all this to you rapidly, adding finger quotation marks when she says “reputation”.

“And Number 3 and please listen when I say this. Sometimes Steve isn’t the brightest fish in the sea. If he was a dog, you would need to tell him that the bone is a treat before you give it to him or else he’ll think it's a friend and play fetch with it or something.” she finishes.

You try to take in all that she said as much as you could, trying to understand the innuendo she threw in at the end. Nodding at her words you eyes going unfocused as you get lost in your head in thought. After a few seconds you eventually grab the receipt Robin hands you.

“So yea I think you should go for it. Trust me you won’t be disappointed.” she says with a smile.

You tell her that you’ll keep it in mind and thank her before leaving the video store.

The conversation between the two of you was a few days ago.

But today, today was the day you were going to ask Steve out. You made the decision the night before. You put on your favorite outfit, listened to the songs that make you feel the most confident and didn’t forget to tell yourself some positive affirmations before you left. There was also a pint of mint chip ice cream waiting for you in the freezer just in case Robin was lying and this all didn’t go how you wanted to. (You were just making sure to check every box.)

So here you were at the counter that Steve stood behind as he leaned over to get closer to you as he spoke. “So did Jim and Janine like “Die Hard”?”.

Jim was your neighbor who you’ve known since you were young. Him and his wife Janine were in need of something new to watch and you offered to get them a movie. Saying that you knew a guy who gave out pretty good suggestions. Was it another excuse for you to show up at his job and flirt with the boy? Yes but your neighbors didn’t need to know.

“They loved it, it is definitely going to be a favorite for them.” you say to him. Steve is clearly happy with your response telling you as always that he’s happy to help.

You try to take a subtle deep breath to gather as much confidence and bravery before speaking. ‘Here it goes’, you think to yourself. “Aside from returning this,” you place both hands over the movie you placed on the counter. Rings clinking against the plastic cover.

“I am looking for something to watch for myself and I’m in need of your recommendations.” You say to him.

Steve nods his head, “No problem. Any genre you in mood for? Maybe a little action movie for yourself or a good comedy.” He places the “Die Hard” movie in the return pile next to Robin who you had no clue was even there until just now. You lock eyes with her briefly as she gives you a subtle thumbs up and mouths “go for it”.

“I think I’m in the mood for romance. Any suggestions?” You tell him softly.

Steve drums the table with his hand repeatedly as he thinks. You assume he has a movie in mind once he walks from behind the front counter and walks toward you. He places his hand lightly against the middle of your back and leads you toward the romance section. “I have a few movies in mind that you might like.”

The two of you are in the romance aisle. Between two shelves that cause you both to be a lot closer compared to the distance you were before. The front counter made a barrier between the two of you. But now you can see every detail of Steve Harrington. The small freckles against his arms, the sweet yet warm scent of his cologne as he passes you to pick up a couple movies for your suggestion. The tip of his tongue sticking out against his lip as he concentrates. Looking between each movie to choose the perfect one for you. Fuck, he’s too cute and you hope he says yes to your proposal.

“Here we are m’lady.” His voice brings you out of spacing out thinking about how cute Steve was. You smile to bring yourself back and hope Steve couldn’t tell you were staring at him and daydreaming. He raises two movies, one in each hand out to you.

“We have the great “Sixteen Candles”. A very cute and classic Rom-Com deal.” He starts to tell you about the movie, a short and sweet summary of the movie without giving any spoilers.

“And if you’re not feeling for that we’ve got “Endless Love”, a bit more of romance and with a good amount of dramatic flair.” He gives the short rundown of that movie without giving any spoilers for that one also.

You nod your hand and act as if you’re thinking of choosing one or the other. “Both good choices.” You say to him which earns you a beautiful Steve Harrington smile.

Here it goes.

“There’s a new movie that came out not too long ago. I don’t know if it's on video yet or if you guys even have it. It’s um- I can’t remember the name. There’s a guy works at a laundromat in the movie-” you start, looking a bit confused as you act as if you’re trying to remember the name of the movie that’s been repeating in your head about a thousand times since last night.

“Oh yea we do I think. One sec.” Steve walks further down the aisle and skims the shelves for the movie you were talking about. He picks it up and walks back toward you waving the movie in his hand. “This is the one right?” He hands it to you.

You nod happily, “Yea! That’s the one.” you look up at him smiling brightly and he’s smiling right back you. He asks if you were searching for any more movies and with a shake of your head, he leads you back to the register to cash out the movie.

Robin is no longer standing behind the counter but she’s acting as if she’s making herself useful. Stocking a few shelves with movies. It’s her subtle attempt to give your privacy to ask Steve out but still be able to eavesdrop on the whole thing.

Steve walks behind the counter and begins to ring up the movie, muttering the lyrics to the song from the radio in the background. You think to yourself that now is a good time as any to ask him out. You won’t get this opportunity again. Despite Robin teling you about Steve’s lack of dates, you doubt that’s going to last forever. I mean look at him, he’s Steve Harrington.

You clear you’re throat before speaking, “So uh-How many movies does a girl have to buy for you to ask her out?”

Steve freezes in what he’s doing, the movie in his hand as he stares at you. His eyebrows raised in curiosity and shock. “What?”

You don’t let his confusion or shock stop you. You’re on a roll now, you can’t just quit.

“This movie is still in theaters. It’s not that busy now but I still would love to see it on the big screen. Maybe instead of me getting this tape,” you grab the movie softly from his hands. Steve still so frozen in shock he lets you. You place the movie down on the counter and slide it away.

“Maybe you and I can go see it? If you want, that is.” you finish.

You look up at him sweetly and Steve blinks once, twice, a few more times. He swallows like theres a lump stuck in his throat and before he speaks, he nods.

“Ye-Yea.” he starts, his voice cracking at first before he clears his throat and shakes his head subtly to get shake himself out of it.

“Yea uh that’d be great.” He finally responds.

You smile brightly at him. You go on your tippy toes to reach over the counter for the pen that was in the front pocket of his jeans. You hear Steve gasp slightly before you go back to how you were normally standing.

You grab his arm softly and he lets you and you uncap the pen. “I’m free on Saturday but you can call me so we can figure out a time that works for you.” you say to him, writing your number on his arm. You put a heart and small smiley face at the end of it before handing the pen back to him with a smile.

You don’t let him say anything else to you as you say goodbye and begin to walk away. But that’s before you see Robin out of the corner of your eye who gives you a wink and a big thumbs up. You exit Family Video and walk a few paces before letting out an excited squeal when there was no one around.

You just scored yourself a date with Steve Harrington.

— — — — —

(Did I use Joe Kerry’s song as the title…maybe)

HEY HOTTEES OMG ITS BEEN SO LONG <3

Small life update, Im a working girlie so thats where most of my time goes and im way too tired to do anything else but sleep. But hopefully this year that changes!

I miss my friends on here and I hope to make new ones so please don’t be shy to send me a message!!

Hoped you enjoyed this fic of reader being down bad in need for Steve

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve stranger things #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x you

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bleedingoptimism · 1 year

Text

You Are Mine part 1

When Eddie decided to come out he thought it’d be funny to do so with a music video, so he wrote a song and presented it to the band. The boys loved it and the song was declared the first one of their next album, the third one.

And then it was time to shoot the video.

They hire their personal friend and favorite director, Argyle. Just Argyle, like Cher.

Between him and Argyle they come up with a cool script. The band is going to act in it, they just need two extras, so they hold auditions for a couple in their twenties.

On the day of the auditions, Argyle tells them the interviews are mostly for show, the band can pick whoever they feel the most comfortable with, and the boys tell Eddie he should pick since it’s his song.

The five of them sit at a long table like it’s fucking American Idol or something and just stare at the couples waiting in line through a one-side glass mirror whispering among themselves and watching amused as the couples start getting progressively nervous.

There’s a couple that immediately grabs Eddie's attention when he does a pass-over, a pretty tall dirty blonde and a brunette with big soft-looking hair.

The guy is absolutely gorgeous, with big kind eyes, a straight cute nose, a square jaw, big shoulders, a small waist, and tan skin that seems to be covered in beauty marks.

He just strikes Eddie as someone that would make Michelangelo cry with his inability to capture his perfection.

‘Oh, that’s good. I should write that.’ He thinks.

He and the girl are talking in hush tones and Eddie watches as she fixes his hair while he jabbers nervously and then, evidently says something that makes her angry because she pokes him in the ribs. The guy giggles cutely and loudly enough to carry over to their room and then blushes furiously when heads turn toward them, hiding behind his friend. The woman in question snorts and chuckles as he chastises her.

Eddie stands up, crouches behind Argyle’s chair, and tells him, “I want that one.”

“What?” he answers, so Eddie points at the couple, “I want him.”

Argyle looks at them considering and clicks his tongue and Eddie insists, “Please Argy, please, I love him, I want him, I want that one, pleaseee”

“Eddie, we need to at least consider the rest of them. This is my job we are talking about here. Please, take it seriously” Argyle says in a calm voice and Eddie deflates,

“Dude...I’m sorry I-”

“Nah man, I’m kidding!” Argyle cuts him off, “Couple number four! Please step forward!” he yells into a mike.

The blonde and the brunette look at each other and walk in nervously as Eddie goes back to his seat at the end of the table and Argyle does a small flourishing move with his hand inviting them to introduce themselves.

“Hi! My name is Robin, and this is Steve, pleased to meet you!” The girl says smiling kindly at them. She nudges Steve on the side and he does a little finger wave at them.

Eddie has to bite his lip not to smile too much because they are really fucking cute.

Argyle returns the wave enthusiastically, because nothing ever faces him, and looks at the list he has in his hands, “Any experience acting Robin and Steve?”

Robin says yes, something about drama club in high school and Steve just shrugs which amused Eddie to no end, and frankly makes him really curious, for all intent and purposes, Steve doesn’t seem to be interested in the job.

“How did you find out about this job?” Jeff asks them, and Gareth nods like he was just about to ask the same thing.

“A friend of ours told us about it?” Robin answers “He’s a photographer but I don't want to drop names, especially in case we embarrass ourselves,” she says jokingly and looks relieved when she gets a couple of chuckles from Argyle and the band.

“And you were interested because…?” Frank inquires.

Robin starts saying some carefully prepared speech about learning experiences but is interrupted by Steve saying, “We needed the money”

“Oh my god! Shut up!” Robin suddenly turns to him completely red in the face.

“What? You told me to be myself!” Steve tells her frowning.

“This is exactly why I always talk in interviews”

“What does that mean?”

“You suck at this Steve! Just as much as you suck at-”

Gareth clears his throat loudly making them stop and look at him sheepishly, “So tell us, do you know the band? Are you fans?”

Eddie takes a moment to look at his bandmates and to his relief they all look as amused as he feels, especially Argyle. The couple of newbies is clearly a mess but in an endearing kind of way.

“Well…” Robin starts but doesn’t seem to know what to say.

“Never heard of it,” Steve says looking apologetic.

“Wait, Really?” Robin asks him, once more ignoring the director and the band, “They are like, Mike’s favorite band, man! You never heard of Corroded Coffin?”

“Oh well,” Steve shrugs, “I mostly tune out when Mike is talking so…”

Robin snorts and is about to reply but Argyle raises his hand and they both look at him, flinching a little when they realize they had started talking among themselves again.

“Ok.” Argyle tells them clapping once, “Unfortunately for me, I love your energy my dudes, but I’m going to get serious for a second here: I need you two to be professional ok? We have a budget and a schedule and only three days to shoot and I can’t hire you and find out in the middle of the shoot that you are not okay with making out with someone-”

Robin visibly takes a step back and Steve snorts, “Yeah no, I’m not making out with my sister.”

Eddie, who was wondering what kind of relationship they had, does a little happy dance in his head at that.

“No, I meant one of the members of the band” Argyle answers amused.

Robin takes another step back and actually looks a little disgusted and Eddie tries not to find it offensive, “Me?” she asks unsure.

“No,” Frank answers and points at Steve, “Him.”

Surprisingly, they both relax at that, “Oh!” They exclaim in unison and it’s kind of creepy but again, in an endearing kind of way.

And then Steve looks at them one by one, he’s unmistakably and unashamedly checking them all out and Eddie swears his eyes linger on him the most before he smirks and says, “I’m okay with that”

Eddie immediately pushes the contract laying on the table toward Frank, who pushes it to Gareth, who pushes it to Jeff, who pushes it to Argyle and gives him a pen.

Argyle laughs loudly and shakes the sheet of paper, “Well shit, I guess you are hired.”

“We are?!”

He stands up and shakes their hands, hands them the contract and another paper, “This is the script, not that it has any dialogue but just in case you have any questions.”

They push their heads together and read the script at the same time.

The story is about the band being on tour. Robin and Steve would play as their roadies and the video is supposed to show them in concert, traveling, working, and hanging out. The whole video hints that Eddie is sneaking out with one of them and it ends with the band plus Robin opening a curtain on the tour bus to find Eddie and Steve making out.

The song is called You Are Mine.

When they are done reading, Steve smiles and says “Cute”

And Robin asks, “So which one of you is Eddie?”

Eddie lifts his hand lazily and winks at them.

And Steve, still holding the script, lifts it enough to cover his face but Eddie can still see the tip of his ears as they turn bright red.

‘Oh, he’s gonna eat him alive.’

to be continued

part 1: is this

part 2: ♫

part 3: ♫

part 4: ♫

☕ cafecito?

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #i wrote something #corroded coffin #omg another rockstar eddie au? mimimimi

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pedroshotwifey · 2 months

Note

Do you think you could write a nervous Joel fic... like he's older and a single dad and hasn't dated in a REALLY REALLY long time...but he's still really sweet, maybe he has to stop and eat reader cos he's about to cum too soon or something 🤷‍♀️😭

Hey, babe!! So I hope this is what you were hoping for! It's super tender and I did end up listening to Hozier for a good portion of it, so do with that information what you will 😅

Also, I kind of did something a bit different and wrote it more from Joel's perspective, but it's still in 2nd person (pronouns = you)! Pls lmk how you feel about it ❤

Pairing: Older Joel Miller x afab!reader

Tags/warnings: Age gap (not specified), piv sex, oral sex (f), vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, established relationship, (almost) premature ejaculation, accidental love confessions 🤭, self deprecating Joel™, big dick Joel™, kissing, stuff I'm probably forgetting

W/C: 1.9k

Summary: Your and Joel's first time together turns into so much more.

What Matters

“Are you sure, baby?”

Joel watches as your eyes flick up to him, only kindness and patience in them. Even as you smile warmly and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him to you, he still has a sense of cautiousness in his movements. You’ve probably lost track of how many times he’s asked you if you’re sure.

“Yes, Joel, I’m sure,” you laugh breathily.

You’re both lying in his bed, half-naked. There’s a soft summer breeze coming in through the window and rustling the sheer curtains. The sun’s going down, but just barely, causing a perfect golden hue to coat the room. He can’t help but think that you look even more gorgeous than usual in this lighting.

Joel tries to ignore the nervousness in his stomach as he softly kisses your jaw and nuzzles up to you. He’s not stupid, he knows that you know he’s just trying to waste time, but you let him. You’re so fucking sweet like that. Always making him feel so wanted and appreciated. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be with you in this way, but that he’s worried he won’t be perfect for you. He wants to be able to show you affection in the same way that you show him.

But what if he can’t?

You’re younger, after all, and he’s not been with a woman in so long. Maybe not since Sarah’s mom. If that’s the case, it’s been about fifteen, sixteen years. Point in case, you’re probably used to boys who can last longer and can make you come every time. What if he can’t? What if it’s been so long now, that he only lasts a couple of minutes?

It terrifies him, the prospect that you may be disappointed in his performance. What if you decide to leave him because he’s not enough to get you off? No, he realizes, you would never do that. You’re so good, so thoughtful and generous and patient. You’d wait for him, help him get back to the point where he used to be.

But that’s not what he wants. He wants to be good for you now.

“Joel?”

His name falling from your lips has his head raising back up. You look into his eyes with a desperation that he simply can’t ignore.

“Please,” you whisper before planting a feather-light kiss to his lips. He nods slowly before he can think about it.

“Alright, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

And he does, he knows it. He just hopes he can do it right.

You’re already prepped. He spent probably half an hour fingering you to orgasm even though you had begged for the real thing each time you fell apart on his hand. It’s another thing he was worried about—being so big. Joel’s not a super cocky man by any means, but he is aware of his…attributes.

He watches you carefully as he grasps his cock and guides it to your slippery entrance. Your eyes flutter shut as he pushes in, giving you about an inch each time he thrusts. His jaw goes slack once he’s about halfway in. You’re so fucking warm and wet and inviting. He keeps going, trying to keep his breathy whines at bay. He’s again reminded of just how long it’s been since he’s felt something other than the palm of his hand around himself.

“Shit, baby,” he breathes as he bottoms out. He closes his eyes in concentration and lets his head hang next to yours. He already feels like he might blow his load at any second. You bring a hand up to cup his head and thread his curls through your fingers, holding him close. His breathing is heavy when he lifts himself back up to look into your eyes.

His heart seems to skip a beat when he sees the adoration you’re looking at him with. It kills him every time. And no matter how many times you tell him that he deserves all your affection, he knows he’ll still find a lingering doubt in the back of his mind. There’s a reason the two of you have only been “together” for about four months even though you’ve been shamelessly flirting for about a year.

It was just too good to be true. For such a sweet, gentle thing like you to want a rough old man like him. He was never the one to initiate anything, but he knows you’ve been aware that he had his sore eyes set on you since you met. How could he not? He’s never met anyone so kind and considerate. It was impossible to deny you of him any longer when it was one of the only things you’ve ever wanted for yourself.

“You okay?” Your honeyed voice reaches his ears—or his good ear, rather—and he smiles at you.

“‘Course, baby. Jus’ gotta give me a second, alright?” He can feel his cheeks getting a bit rosy at the confession. “It’s been a minute.”

You nod, still no hesitation or any sign of regret. God, what did he do to deserve you?

Once he collects himself, he pulls out just barely, and a groan tumbles from his mouth to mingle with your soft moan. He’s already starting to sweat from the effort of not coming too soon as he starts to push into you at a slow but rhythmic pace. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and tuck your head into his chest as you whimper with his thrusts.

“You feel so good,” you whine.

“Fuck, sweetheart, so d’ you. “Like goddamn heaven.” And you do; overwhelmingly so.

He cradles your head and lowers the two of you even more to deepen his thrusts. He knows he’s found your spot when your breath catches and you start to tighten around him every time he pumps his hips. Unfortunately, this makes it a lot harder for him to keep his composure.

“H-honey, I have to pull out,” he grits out. He’s so embarrassed, it hasn’t even been five minutes. He won’t last long enough for you to come before him.

But you just nod into him, even though you must be devastated by the loss of your orgasm. “It’s okay, Joel,” you breathily assure him.

He pulls out and squeezes the base of his cock, out of breath. He doesn’t meet your gaze as he starts to apologize.

“I’m sorry, baby, I—”

“Joel,” You stop him by carefully grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at you. “It’s okay.” You nod, waiting for him to do the same before you continue. “Take as much time as you need. I love you no matter what. This does not determine—”

You both realize what you said at the same time. Joel’s eyes widen and his chest feels like it caved into itself. Your lips stay still, parted in the middle of your sentence. Joel doesn’t realize tears have gathered in his eyes until his vision starts to blur and a smile spreads across his face.

You love him. You said it. And he believes you.

“I love you too, baby,” he whispers and lets his forehead rest against yours. “So damn much.” Fuck his age and whoever might see a problem with you being together. He wants this, and you want this, and that’s all that matters.

Then you’re both laughing shakily, pressing kisses to each other’s lips. He only stops to start trailing them down your body instead, watching you writhe as his mustache tickles your bare skin.

“Joel, p-please,” you beg quietly. Joel just huffs a small laugh through his nose as he lays himself between your legs, ignoring his protesting knees as he admires the entirety of you laying out just for him. You look fucking beautiful covered in a thin sheen of sweat atop his sheets, needy and panting all for him.

He doesn’t waste too much time before putting his mouth on your sweet pussy, his tongue dragging up your slit to flick at your clit. Joel moans at your taste, sending vibrations racing toward your swollen bud. Your hips buck as your hands fly to grasp at his hair, tugging lightly and making his eyes roll back.

He feasts on you like his life depends on it, worshiping you with all he has. He takes turns in running his tongue up you, fucking you with it the best he can, and suckling on your clit. He looks like a damn mess as he does so, his eyes not leaving your cunt unless he’s watching your face contort with pleasure. When you make eye contact with him, he knows he must look fucked out and desperate just based on the way you groan and lay your head back.

It doesn’t take much for you to get to the edge, and it takes even less for him to push you over. You let out sharp, whiny sounds as he sucks on your clit and slips a couple of fingers inside of you to grip on to. Your entire body goes tense, and Joel has to resist the urge to smirk against you as you shake with the force of your orgasm.

By the time you’re coming down, he’s back over you and slipping his tongue inside your mouth to share your taste. You moan into the kiss and pull him closer as he once again glides his tip into your cunt. Just as he had hoped, the distraction calmed him down enough to hopefully give him some more time.

You both melt into each other as he bottoms out, the tip of his swollen cock hitting your cervix and making your thighs squeeze his torso. He starts at a faster pace than last time, too deep in his lust-filled haze to even try to slow down now.

You pull away from his mouth to start leaving love bites on his neck, making his cock twitch inside of you with each pinch. He can feel you smile against his skin, and knows that you’ve found his secret. He does like a little pain with his pleasure. You keep going, sucking and biting marks before licking soothingly over them and moving to the next spot. You taste him like you’re addicted, like you could never possibly get enough.

It still doesn’t take him as long as he would like to before he starts to feel his balls drawing up and his thighs start to shake. His head goes foggy as he tries to hold on for you, but it’s too fucking much. He can’t hold it off when you feel so good around him. It’s like torture to stave off his orgasm when he’s thrusting into your soft heat.

“Where d’ you want me, honey?” Joel asks you, his voice strained.

“Inside,” you whisper against his neck without a second thought.

And it throws him over. He groans your name as his body stutters and his balls empty, coating your walls with his milky spend. It seems to go on forever. Each time he thinks he’s almost done, there’s another spurt and another wave of pleasure that tugs him deeper into euphoria.

When it does end, he lets himself half-collapse on top of you. You embrace him with welcoming arms and the two of you catch your breath together in the now dark bedroom. He only pulls out once sleep threatens to take the both of you. A shower, snack, and a glass of water later, you both snuggle up together and fall asleep with content smiles and full hearts.

*****

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navybrat817 · 10 months

Text

Sundresses and Leather

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader Summary: Your first date with Bucky doesn't go as planned, but that makes it all the more special. Word Count: Over 4.7k Warnings: First date, tension, flirting, brief moments of insecurity, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Graphics talent and thanks: Banner by @sgt-seabass. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Bucky edit by Nix. Moodboard by yours truly. Previous Part of AU: Sweet and Strong A/N: More Hottie and Sugar from our Sin on Skin AU. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you for spitballing), but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Tonight was the night. You were going out with Bucky Barnes. Excited for the date was a bit of an understatement. You may have told a few customers you had a date when they wished you a good day.

Thank God they were mostly regulars and seemed happy on my behalf.

"Maybe a sundress isn't nice enough," you told Tess, regretting the words the moment they left your mouth. She didn’t need to deal with you and your overthinking. Again.

"It's plenty nice. You’re going to look amazing,” she argued, going to check on the next batch of cookies. “And he can lift the skirt and bury his-"

"I thought you said I didn't have to get laid on my first date with him," you cut her off.

"You don't have to, but the visual alone will give him something for his spank bank later."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence," you smiled, but it quickly faltered.

You weren’t sure why a cloud drifted over your sunny disposition. Bucky was a good guy, a far cry from Richard. Gorgeous, kind, hardworking, the whole package. There was chemistry between the two of you that went beyond mere attraction. Maybe it was the fact that you were falling hard and fast for him that suddenly made you so nervous. You didn’t want to scare him away.

But he said he couldn’t stop thinking about me and he wouldn’t say that if he didn’t mean it.

Tess gave you a pointed look. “Stop overthinking. I’m begging you.”

“I’m not trying to,” you sighed, your nerves almost tempting you to grab a treat from the case. “What if I fall on my face?”

“Like Bucky would let you hit the ground. Even if you do stumble, that’s life. It isn’t going to change the fact that he likes you,” she said as you helped her with the cookies. You still had work to do. “The guy said he can’t get you off his mind and to text him whenever you want. He does not strike me as the type to just say those things and I know he doesn’t strike you as that type either.”

It took a moment, but your smile came back. She was right. Life wasn’t perfect and you were far from it, but Bucky liked you just as you are. Tonight would be unforgettable no matter what.

“I appreciate the pep talk,” you said, thankful that she told you what you needed to hear. “I’ll even tell you the dirty details if anything happens.”

“Hell yeah, you will. Remember, at this point, I’m living vicariously through you until I find my own hunk,” she winked. “But I mean it. Have fun tonight and get your man.”

I will.

After your shift, you rushed to change for your date. You somehow managed to arrive a few minutes early outside of Bucky's shop and took a deep breath to get yourself under control. Catching your reflection in the window, you smiled before you turned away. Since Bucky hadn’t given you any hint for what you were doing, you chose your nicest sundress and kept your makeup minimal. You looked and felt beautiful, though you wished you would’ve brought a jacket with you.

Maybe Bucky will let me borrow his if he has one.

“Holy shit.”

You spun around when you heard Bucky’s voice behind you, your heart fluttering as he met you on the sidewalk. Instead of the jeans you usually saw him in, he wore khakis, a button up shirt, and a blue blazer that matched his eyes. He had his hair down, perfectly parted on the right side. You were so busy staring at the broad, handsome man that it took you a moment to realize he was trying to hand you something.

Flowers.

“Sorry. You just… wow,” he said as you took the small bouquet, sweeping his gaze over you as your cheeks grew warm. “You look so beautiful.”

You giggled and quickly covered your mouth with your hand, butterflies in your stomach when he gently smiled. “Don’t apologize,” you smiled back, taking a moment to smell the flowers. “You look pretty ‘holy shit’ yourself.”

His nose scrunched as he laughed and offered you his hand. “So, you’re telling me I clean up well. Steve insisted on the blazer when I said I wanted to bring my leather jacket.”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Though I wouldn’t have minded the leather jacket,” you said. He would’ve looked gorgeous, as always. “And thank you for suggesting we meet here. We had a last minute order and I was scrambling."

"It's no problem. One of my clients was running a few minutes late and I almost had to take you out in jeans."

"I wouldn't have minded," you said. You both worked hard and understood that things would come up from time to time. "So, where are we headed?"

He cleared his throat as he led you to his car. “Well, do you want the good news or the bad news?”

Your stomach dropped a little. “Mmm. Bad news first,” you said after a moment. “Always better to end on a high note.”

“Bad news was I had planned to take you out on my motorcycle so we could have a picnic in the park. There was going to be live music and I would’ve asked you to dance,” he explained, looking up at the sky. “But…”

“The weather called for a storm tonight, didn’t it?” you mused, a wistful smile on your face when he nodded. The image of being in his arms under the stars as music drifted through the air made your heart skip a beat. It sounded like the perfect evening.

“Yeah. The band is rescheduling,” he said, tucking his hair behind his ear as he looked at the ground. “Then I thought I could take you to this art gallery nearby. They normally have these stunning paintings of landscapes and various statues, but the current exhibit is on human sexuality and reproduction. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but maybe it was too much for a first date.”

“Oh, come on. It couldn’t have been that bad,” you argued as he stopped and took out his phone.

“No?” he asked, tapping his screen before he showed you what you assumed was the page for the gallery.

“…That’s a giant dick,” you said before you could stop yourself, tilting your head as you stared at the phone. “And does that say BALLS?”

An older woman crossing in the opposite direction gave you an amused stare before you and Bucky burst into a fit of laughter. You had to hold on his arm to keep from collapsing on the ground. It was the funniest thing you had seen since you could remember and to think you almost saw it in person.

This date is off to a great start.

“Maybe I wanted to see a giant dick and balls,” you said once you caught your breath, pointing at him when he opened his mouth. “And don’t say ‘all I have to do is pull down my pants’ or something like that.”

But I know he has a big dick. I know.

He smirked as he started walking again. “Only if you ask me nicely, Sugar.”

He’s going to kill my ovaries.

“I’ll ask you very nicely, Hottie,” you teased, wondering exactly where you were going then. “If that was the bad news, what’s the good news?”

“I managed to get us a reservation at one of the nicest restaurants in town,” he said, standing a bit taller.

He’s trying to impress me.

“That's really nice. And I’m sure dinner will be amazing,” you assured him, hoping he didn’t beat himself up over having to change his plans. It wasn’t his fault it was going to rain. He could’ve taken you to a fast food place and it would’ve been fine because you were with him.

“Speaking of, I better get us there so we aren’t late,” he said, opening the door for you to get in. “Maybe if you agree to a second date, I can take you out on my bike and have that picnic.”

“I’d love that,” you smiled, carefully putting the flowers in your lap and trying not to appear too eager that he was already thinking of a second date. You glanced around the car when he got in and drove off, noticing it was cleaner than when he took you home days prior.

Did he clean it for me?

You grinned as he hummed along to the radio, watching as he drummed his fingers along the steering wheel. “You could’ve made it as a musician if you weren’t a tattoo artist.”

“Now you’re just flattering me, Sugar,” he said. “Believe it or not, if I wasn’t a tattoo artist, I would’ve liked to be a science teacher. I loved science and everything space related growing up.”

“Really?” you asked. He would’ve been a wonderful teacher, no matter what age group he taught. “Okay. That’s another date night.”

“What? Playing teacher?” he joked, taking his eyes off the road for a second to wink at you.

“No,” you giggled, carefully shoving his arm since he was driving. “We’re going to a science museum. That's our third date. I’m going to watch you happily geek out over everything.”

“Yeah?” he asked, glancing at you after he parked the car. “You’d do that?”

“Yeah, I would. I think it would be a blast.”

I just want to spend time with you.

A soft expression took over his features when he took your hand and brought it to his mouth. His lips lightly brushed your skin, heat pooling in your gut as he made eye contact with you. The look alone made you want to skip dinner and go right to dessert. Why not throw caution to the wind?

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he promised before he got out.

You exhaled slowly and mentally told your libido to calm down. At the very least, you had to get through dinner. He went through the trouble of getting a reservation at a nice place and you weren’t about to take that away from him.

“Oh, wow. I haven’t been here before,” you said once you got a look at the name. Richard used to brag about the place, but never actually took you. From what you remember, he said the food was supposed to be expensive. You didn’t want Bucky to splurge on you.

“I haven’t either,” Bucky admitted. A fancy place didn’t seem like his style. “But it looked romantic.”

You bit your lip as he opened the door, the flickering candlelight in the entryway alone providing an intimate ambience. The date may not have been what he planned, but he clearly did his research and put thought into doing something nice for you. When was the last time someone tried to do something nice for you? When did anyone go out of their way to make you feel special?

“Hello,” Bucky said as the hostess greeted you. “Reservation for two under James.”

James?

The hostess scanned her screen before she looked up. “I’m sorry. That name isn’t coming up.”

Bucky’s cheeks turned pink when you glanced at him. “It should be under James, miss. James Barnes. Reservation for two for 7pm. I spoke with Charles. He confirmed it.”

You moved closer to Bucky when the hostess searched through her screen again. As calm as he sounded, you sensed he was anything but inside. You hoped he wasn’t embarrassed. Maybe she skipped over his name. A simple mistake.

“Charles did make a reservation for you, but he entered it for 7pm next Friday,” she said as she looked between the two of you. “We’re fully booked tonight. I'm sorry, James.”

Oh, no.

There was a tick in Bucky’s jaw before he shook his head and you wanted nothing more than to hug him. “No, that’s… It’s for tonight.”

“I’m so sorry. I can see if we can squeeze a table in for you, but it’ll be at least an hour,” she said, shifting uncomfortably on her feet. She probably expected one or both of you to make a scene. "I can get my manager?"

Bucky swallowed when he looked at you, his cheeks still pink. The candlelight danced in his eyes, but all you saw was sadness. No. You wouldn't allow that. This was your first date and it was going to be amazing.

You put a hand on his arm, his muscles relaxing under your touch. "It's okay. I know this amazing place that’s right around the corner."

"Are you sure?" he asked, the hostess visibly relaxing when you nodded.

"You have a good evening," you said to the hostess and tugged Bucky back toward the door. "I'm sure. Trust me. We may even beat the rain if we walk now."

“Okay,” he said, avoiding your gaze as you left. “Fuck. This is the worst first date, isn’t it?”

Your heart broke for him. All he wanted was to give you a nice evening and everything he tried fell through. “Not even close. And you have nothing to apologize for. Charles messed up the reservation, Hottie, not you.”

“Yeah, he did,” he said, his lip tugging like he wanted to smile. “I just really wanted tonight to be special and since I couldn’t give you the date I planned, I wanted to at least give you something nice. I couldn't even do that.”

Hearing that made you stop, even when you felt the first raindrop. "Tonight is special because you're spending time with me. That's all I wanted," you promised, squeezing his hand for good measure.

"That's really all?" he asked as he squeezed your hand in return.

"Well, not completely," you teased as another raindrop landed on your shoulder. "Maybe a kiss at the end of our date."

A wide smile formed on his face as he leaned in, not quite kissing you. "Whatever you want, Sugar."

As romantic as it was to stand on the sidewalk with him, the rain began to come down harder and had you rushing with him around the corner. “If you're still disappointed, you’ll feel much better when we eat. Antonia’s has the best food,” you said, holding out your hand in a grand gesture as you arrived. “Tada!”

Antonia's was a bit of a hole-in-the-wall kind of place. Not extraordinary on the outside, but lively and bright on the inside. The food and service were top notch. It was one of your favorite places.

“Wait, Antonia's?” he asked, a twinkle in his eyes. “This is where you’re taking me?”

“Yeah,” you replied, suddenly nervous as you faced him. Did he not like it? “Is this okay?”

“This is one of my new favorite restaurants,” he said.

No way.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. I designed one of Antonia's tattoos. And I decided to check out the place."

He's full of surprises.

"Then you know you're in for a treat," you winked.

The hearty aroma of the restaurant filled the air as you went inside and wiped some of the rain off your dress. Antonia was speaking with the hostess as you went up to the stand. The owner was involved in virtually every part of her restaurant.

"Welcome to…" Antonia began as she looked at you, then at Bucky, then back at you. "Oh! You two… it's a date!"

Antonia looks so happy.

"Hi. And yes. We're on a date," you giggled when Bucky sheepishly smiled. It was sweet. "You wouldn't happen to have a table for two available, would you?"

Antonia put her hand over her heart and flagged down a waiter with the other. "Lover's special for these two. Go."

You exchanged a look with Bucky, who appeared just as confused as you were. "Lover's special?"

"Yes, yes. Come with me," she said, patting Bucky's cheek before she took you through the restaurant. You expected her to seat you at one of the few empty tables, but she passed them to take you to a door in the back. "Tonight is special and that means a special dinner."

Your eyes widened at the sight before you once she opened the door. There was a lone table in the middle of the room, flowers similar to the bouquet Bucky gave you sat in the center. Unlike the bright main room, the dimmed lights gave the room a romantic glow.

Perfect.

"Peter will serve you. And if you need anything, just ask, okay?" Antonia asked, putting her hand over her heart again. Were there tears in her eyes? "Two of my favorite customers. Together! Enjoy!"

You had to pause and swallow the lump in your throat once she left you alone. A restaurant owner showed more enthusiasm for your date than your mom did for anything that involved you. She likely never would.

"You okay?" Bucky asked, pulling out your chair.

"I'm fine," you replied, refusing to let the thought of your mom damper the evening. "A little chilly. I should've brought a sweater with me."

Bucky removed his blazer and put it around you, tenderness in his blue eyes as he rubbed your arms. "I can't wait to see you in my leather jacket," he said, helping you take your seat before he took his.

Oh, he's going to give me his jacket? Am I going to only wear his jacket? Fuck.

"Thank you," you said, inhaling as he rolled up one of his sleeves beneath the elbow and then the other. You reached across the table to lightly trace one of the tattoos on his right arm. "It was nice of Antonia to put us back here."

"Then why did you look so sad when she left?"

He caught that?

"She just looked so happy to see us together and I didn't expect that. It's nice that someone is rooting for us," you said, tracing your finger along his wrist before you stopped. "I'm sorry. I should've asked before I started touching."

"Don't apologize. I like your touch," he said in a low voice.

You lifted your gaze, seeing fire in his eyes that had nothing to do with the dim lighting. When he turned his hand over to hold yours, you made no move to pull away. You wished you could put your hands all over him.

"Hi! I'm Peter!" The waiter greeted as he brought water to the table. Bucky didn't let go of your hand. "I'll be taking care of you tonight."

"Only one taking care of my girl tonight is me," Bucky said. As much as you loved hearing that, you were glad he gave poor Peter a tiny smile so he could relax. "I'm kidding. It's good to see you, Peter."

"Y-You, too, Mr. Barnes. And you, Miss. You have the best cupcakes in town."

"Thanks," you smiled, quickly putting in your order before you gazed at Bucky. "So, James. Tell me more about you. How long have you been friends with Steve?"

"James is my first name. Everyone calls me Bucky," he chuckled before he shook his head. "And that punk."

You smiled softly as you listened to Bucky, not at all surprised by how easily the conversation went. Steve was his best friend since childhood and they served together before they went into business together. It was evident that he took pride in his shop and respected everyone who worked there. He carried the same affection in his tone when he spoke about his sister, Rebecca. He liked to frequent art galleries with Steve, but also enjoyed riding his bike, reading, and everything science in his spare time.

I could listen to him talk for hours.

"You know, you haven't said much about yourself," he pointed out as he set his napkin on his empty plate.

"I haven't?" You asked.

"No, you haven't and I don't want to monopolize the conversation," he said, leaning forward to give you his full attention. "I want to know more about you."

You tightened the blazer around you, unsure of what to say. "My life isn't exactly exciting," you said, wishing you could think of something clever or fun to discuss.

"Doesn't have to be exciting. I just want to know you," he said before Peter showed back up.

"Would you like to look at the desert menu?" he asked as he took your plates away.

"I think you can bring the check. We're going to skip dessert," you answered, giving Bucky an assuring smile when he frowned. "Let's go to my shop instead."

If Bucky wanted to really know you, you had to tell him more of your story. Your bakery was the only place to do it. And it would be the perfect way to end the evening.

After you left the restaurant, with Antonia asking you to come back again, Bucky drove as safely as he could to the bakery. The rain didn't let up at all. You shrieked as you struggled to get the keys out of your purse, Bucky's blazer now soaked the longer you stood there. "Why didn't I get these out when I was still in your car?!" You shouted over the downpour.

"Why didn't I bring an umbrella?!" He yelled back, putting his hands over your head as if they would protect you.

The two of you practically fell through the door once you unlocked it and shut off the alarm. "We made it," you laughed, careful not to slip on the floor. He had his arm around you just in case. Tess was right, He wouldn't let you fall. "I'll get us some towels and you have your pick of any dessert I have in the fridge."

"You have any cupcakes?" He asked.

Your breath caught in your throat when you stepped back and caught the outline of multiple tattoos through his soaked shirt. "Yeah."

"See something you like?" he smirked, running a hand through his wet hair.

Fuck me.

"I do," you said, glancing down at yourself. "But I'm freezing and I owe you dessert."

Tess might also have words if I let Bucky ravage me by the front door.

You took Bucky to the kitchen and grabbed a few towels. It wouldn't dry you off completely, but it would help. You also put on some soft music. Not to set the mood necessarily, but just in case.

"So, this is where the magic happens," Bucky said, running the towel along his exposed skin.

"It is," you said, placing your hand on the counter. "You said you wanted to know me. It starts here."

"In the kitchen?"

"In the kitchen," you repeated, going to the fridge to take a container of cupcakes out. "I used to visit my grandparents every weekend when I was growing up. My dad wasn't around and my mom said it was for family quality time, but she never stuck around. The reality was that I cramped her style and she passed me off to them because she knew they wouldn't say no."

Bucky's jaw clenched as you let him take a cupcake. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," you said, gripping the lid tightly before you closed the container. "I remember crying because I wanted to take dance classes and try and make friends. My mom said I would be a terrible dancer and that it would be a waste of time and money. A great thing for a kid to hear, right?"

"Jesus," he whispered.

It wasn't exactly the happiest conversation to have, but you wanted to show Bucky a part of you that you didn't show to most people. "My grandma wiped my tears away and brought me into her kitchen. Said she had the perfect cure for the blues. Baking. And that's what we did every weekend until I got old enough to look after myself."

"Your grandma sounds amazing," he said, carefully examining the cupcake in his hand. "And baking became your passion."

"It did. She taught me to pour love into every creation I make. And that's what Tess and I do for others. If someone is having a bad day, at least they can have a treat and feel a little better," you said, pride in your eyes as you looked around. "My grandma supported my dream, but my mom almost disowned me for wanting to run this place. It isn't good enough in her eyes."

I'm not good enough.

Bucky's nostrils flared as he set the dessert down. "Your business isn't good enough for her? What the hell? It's flourishing. I can barely find a lull to come in to get some undivided attention. And your customers love you. She should be proud of you."

His defense of you was heartwarming. "Doesn't matter how successful my business is. She wanted me to marry rich, probably so she could get money from me, but I didn't. She berated me when I broke up with Richard. No matter what I do, I'm never going to be good enough in her eyes," you told him, patting the counter with your hand. "But this makes me happy and that's enough."

"That's why you were sad that Antonia was so happy about our date, wasn't it? Because your mom either doesn't or wouldn't support it," he guessed, reaching for you and pulling you into his arms. "She'll probably hate me. I'm not rich. Covered in tattoos."

"I don't care what she thinks of you. I don't need a rich guy or fancy dates. I just want someone who can provide companionship and support. Someone who respects and cares for me," you said, wrapping your arms around him. "A good, hard-working guy like you deserves the same."

It was too soon to voice it, but Bucky was the kind of man you needed in your life. Someone you could share parts of yourself with and know he wouldn't judge. A man who made your heart race beyond lust.

A partnership.

He stared deeply into your eyes and you had no idea what was going through his head, but his gaze told you so much. How could a pair of eyes be so expressive? "You're perfect, Sugar, and more than enough. You hear me?"

Tears welled up in your eyes before you blinked them away. He sounded sincere and unashamed at his declaration. You hadn't done anything to deserve such praise. "No, I'm not," you whispered.

"You are to me. You took a chance and asked me out. Soothed me when tonight didn't go the way I thought it would," he said, gripping your chin to recapture your gaze. "And you trusted me enough to share something vulnerable with me when you didn't have to. It means everything."

"I feel like I can open up to you," you said as the two of you slowly swayed to the beat. You couldn't remember why you were nervous about your date to begin with.

"And I'll take care of you. I mean it."

I hope he knows I'll take care of him, too.

"You know," you began with a soft smile. "Our first kiss was in your shop."

"It was," he smiled.

"So I think it's only fair that we have our second kiss in my shop," you said.

"You did say you wanted a kiss to end our date," he said, bringing a hand to the back of your neck, but giving you a chance to stop him.

You didn't.

Even though you expected it, you still gasped when he molded his mouth against yours. Your heart pounded furiously in your chest, making you both eager and pliant as he licked his way across your lips. When he brushed his tongue against yours and took possession of your mouth, you mewled. Desire nearly blinded you from the taste of him.

I want more.

"I don't want our date to end," you breathed, clutching his arms to steady yourself.

"It doesn't have to," he said, resting a hand on your hip. His eyes were dark and full of want. To have him look at you that way, how could you possibly end the evening with one kiss? Why deny yourself what you both wanted?

"No, it doesn't," you agreed with a coy smile. "So. My place or yours?"

So. How do we think the evening will go? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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