#i know they hand picked flowers for these shots
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— common ground [into the fire, part iii]
part i | part ii | masterlist
cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader
rated e - 4k
tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, pwp, sex for favors, 1 spank, sub/dom elements, light degradation, use of chems, shotgunning chems, riding, PiV, canon-typical violence and death
a/n: the scene where he complained about doing all the work had me like 👀 (reimagining), so here we go! 💖
“S’that right? Need me to fuck you? Fill up that greedy little cunt?”
His head tipping back as he hums, as if disappointed. Each word exaggerated, with his slow drawl, “Well, I’d sure like to sweetheart… but it seems to me like I’ve been doing an awful lot of work around here.”
“Findin’ this place. Cleanin’ it out. Gettin’ you clothes.” A sigh, before his voice drops, “Makin’ you come.”
“Think you oughta return the favor, don’t you?”
(Or - you take the Ghoul for a ride)
"Fuck!”
You crouch outside as another loud shotgun blast fires - the wooden door next to you peppering with bullets.
This wasn't what you had in mind.
You had thought you'd find a chem station in the next town. A pharmacy, an old hospital. Something somewhat respectable - not standing watch as the Ghoul blew his way through a long-abandoned two-story home.
The layered yelling dies off with each pull of his trigger, until everything going silent.
He finds you there a moment later, still curled in on yourself. A roll of his eyes when he sees you - still unused to the violence.
"It's clear." The Ghoul beckons, "Let's find that station."
You follow him inside, your gaze boring a hole into his back. Trying hard not to look down, nose wrinkling when you almost trip over a set of legs that sprawl across the floor.
A hand pinches at your elbow, keeping you upright.
"What?" He asks, at your expression.
"Did you have to..." You start, as he checks down the hallway.
It's empty - the doors leading to two bedrooms. The bed frames bare and rusted, the rooms already picked through.
A shrug, "They shot first."
"You goaded them."
You could hear him, even from outside. That knowing tone - some kind of warning. A rough laugh, and then the firefight had started.
"We're looking for a chem station, sweetheart." He scoffs, head cocking as he backs you up against the door he just closed, "Think they're gonna share with you like you’re on a goddamn play date?"
"They-" You blink up at him, "They might have."
He clicks his tongue, giving you a long look,"You still got a lot to learn, Vaultie."
A second, before he steps away.
"These weren't those kind of people."
You find it in the basement. A man slumped just outside the cracked-open door, the weathered lab coat stained and splattered red on the left-hand side.
Anything salvageable from above must have been brought down here. Three threadbare mattresses behind a makeshift wall. A long couch that faces a television that still runs, the picture blurry with static.
The station sits along the back wall. A beaker still bubbles over the burner, the smell acrid. Bottles litter the surface - something being made in a batch.
Your mind is already racing ahead, eyes scanning for things you'll need. Too-large gloves shoved on, disposing of the burnt mixture while you search for an empty glass.
Missing how he angles the couch to watch, feet propped up on the wooden coffee table. That ever-steady wariness waning with your focus, the tension in his shoulders easing as he sinks into the cushion.
You're too busy to notice. Sorting the different ingredients, littered across the counter.
There's an excess of toxic soot flowers, their petals papery between your fingers. Opened packages of Med-X, a spilled pile of Buffout. A jar of acid.
Psycho. Cut with something else, something stronger. You think the Ghoul was right - maybe you had been foolish to underestimate them.
You try to shake the thought away, as you gather what you need. Antiseptic, from your own bag. Three jars of glowing fungus, found beneath the sagging counter. Ground up and tipped into a dusty beaker, the heat turned down low.
"Can you get me some water?" You call from over your shoulder, a jar held in your hand.
There's no answer. Silence, until something hard presses into your back, pinning you against the table.
It feels familiar, the way his hips nudge against yours, and it sends your mind back. An urge to arch - bend low. Mimicking the days before, where you can still feel the twinge of him with the stretch of your thighs.
"You think you're callin' the shots now, sweetheart?" His voice is low, the brim of his hat brushing your head as he leans over your shoulder.
"No," You squeak - caught off-guard, "I just-, I can't leave this until it thickens."
"Mm.” His hum is low. “Too bad. Would've liked to see you try.”
Heat blooms in your cheeks at his words, that rough drawl, even after the last couple days. A thin layer of suggestion in his tone, as he shifts closer - his chest bumping into your back.
Your mind flickering through possibilities, before his voice cuts through.
“Said you need water?”
"Yes. Please," The nod you give is small - you have to start your stirring over, losing your rhythm, "I saw a few cartons in the kitchen. If you don't mind."
"Polite little thing, when you're distracted," He husks, "I'll have to remember that."
The Ghoul makes no effort to move, though. Fingers wrapping around the glass. His other hand gripping the edge of the table, boxing you in. You wonder if he can hear the way your heart thuds in your chest, eyes fixed firmly on your work.
“Where’d you learn to do this?”
It takes you a second to answer - he’d had never offered many questions. Responses that were no more than a couple of words, over the stretch of long hours on the road.
“Uh, my Vault. We were short on hands, my mother was a chemist.” Your words are slow - a still-painful topic, “Used to make all kinds of stuff. Medicine and… and chems, alike.”
People who left were always brought back. Dazed and half-sick from the world above, whatever they had seen. Left at your doorstep to be patched up, if they made it that long.
You always told yourself that wouldn’t be you.
That when you were gone, you’d stay that way.
“Hm.” His tone flattens, “Wouldn’t have guessed. Don’t seem the type.”
“Yeah?” You head turns, catching his shadowed ones. Leaning into the welcome diversion, “What type do I seem like, then?”
The Ghoul’s eyes narrow, an unconscious flick down to your mouth.
“Trouble.” He husks, with a shallow roll of his hips. You can’t help the short inhale that he’s certain to hear, the way your fingers tighten around your instruments.
“Though I’m still workin’ out what kind.”
It’s there that he leaves you. Flustered and silently revisiting evenings before, a familiar anticipation curling low inside you.
The steps creak behind you as he slips upstairs. Returning some time later with what you need - twirling a dented pot found in the kitchen, so you can purify it. Folding himself onto the couch when you tell him it will be a while.
A cut glass decanter salvaged as well, that he drinks directly from. A rough gasp as the bitter alcohol floods through him. Helping himself to the chems that litter the tabletop - before his feet kick up, the hat tipped low over his face.
You think he does rest - a rarity.
You examine him then - as you wait for the water to boil, and then cool, before you can use it to mix with the other components.
Taking the rare chance to do it freely.
In the Wasteland you’ve learned to stay cautious. That you can’t fall behind. That surely he would notice, if your gaze lingered on him for too long.
But here, time seems to slow for a moment. Nothing to do but wait, as your fingers drift to your neck. Pressing into the bruise, as if you could feel the indents of his teeth.
His presence feels the same.
A mark left on you. Something you can’t help but want to touch, even if it aches. A reminder that lingers, and there’s a part of you that wishes it would stay.
It has you wondering, as your eyes sweep across him. Over the long-faded clothes, hiding rough and reddened skin - every inch of him wrapped away.
If you got close enough-
Would you find that he bore a mark of his own?
You make enough for a little over two weeks. Carefully poured and sealed into a variety of small bottles and tubes you’ve scavenged, scraping out every last bit that you can.
In the less-than-stellar conditions, it didn’t turn out so bad. The vials you had seen him buy was a thin, piss-yellow that had made you cringe. Poor work to begin with, and that was even before it was cut with more water.
What you offer out to him is thick - a sheen clinging to the glass as it sloshes, when it passes from your hand to his.
Liquid gold, in comparison.
“Mm.” The Ghoul hums - eyes greedy, as he examines, holding it up to the bit of light.
Before they’re focusing on you. Flickering from head to toe - considering - before his legs spread a bit wider. A hand clapping down against a thigh.
The look you give him is blank. A squeak when his fingers hook around one of your belt loops and pulls - hauling you onto his lap.
“You think I’m just gonna take somethin’ you cooked up?” His brow lifts, hands pinching against your hips, “Not a chance, sweetie. I think we oughta try this together.”
The Ghoul’s fingers slip up then, rucking up the hem of your shirt. His tone turning knowing.
“And I don’t think you’ve got enough in you.”
Your cheeks burn at his insinuation. More than aware, your breath catching as the rough tips of his leather gloves drag across your skin.
“Bet I’ve been leakin’ out of you since last time.” The Ghoul rasps, “Wouldn’t want to waste this, would we?”
He’s solid beneath you. Your thighs splitting on either side of his waist, knees digging into old cushions. Close enough to kiss - if you weren’t so certain he’d bite.
Lost though, on how to proceed. You don’t know the rules to his game. Always keeping you at arms-length - wrists bound, caught in his grip.
Would he let you touch him?
He mistakes your hesitance, his brow pinching.
“Spent enough time starin’. Lookin’ like you wanted to take a ride.” Acid slips into his tone, teeth bared, “Change your mind, now you’ve got a front row seat?”
That knocks you out of your thoughts - embarrassed that you were caught staring at him. Annoyed by his assumption. A scoff, as your hips start to move, a slow roll. Hands coming up to rest against his shoulders, meeting his eyes.
They’re pretty, like the rest of him. Shades of light brown - looking like they’re caught the sun, even underground. Thick lashes, above the deep hollow of sunken eye sockets, the split cavern of his missing nose.
Something that had startled you, the first time you saw him. Now, you hardly even notice. And his mouth -
“I’m not scared of you.” You murmur, watching the way his lip curls in a sneer. A soft sound bitten back as you grind down, feeling how he’s stiff beneath you.
You wonder how long he’s been this way. Hard, from watching you work. Waiting.
Another exchange, though you wish you could tell him it doesn’t have to be that way. You had meant what you said, when you had made your offer - even if you mean it a little differently, now.
Maybe you still could.
“You should be,” The Ghoul growls - hands ghosting over your sides, up to the thin cotton, “If you had any goddamn sense. Letting me touch you like this-”
A hand is cupping your breast now. A hard swipe of his thumb against your stiff peak, your fingers biting down into his jacket.
Your hips jerk against his. A soft moan, when the seam of your pants catches against your clit - leaving you clenching around nothing.
“I want you to.” You confess - catching the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, “Told you, whatever you want.”
The Ghoul makes a rough sound in his throat, watching as you tug the cups down to fit beneath your breasts, putting yourself on display for him.
“Haven’t learned, have you?” He warns, his voice low, “Don’t make an offer you can’t follow through on.”
The pinch of his fingers sends an ache down to settle between your thighs, the hint of pain pairing with your pleasure.
Your own hand wandering, wanting to see more. Sliding against a leather vest, the stained shirt beneath that was once as blue as your suit. Frayed, looping embroidery on the faded collar.
Feeling the warmth of his skin as you tug at the snap at his throat. An inch, and then another, before he’s catching your hand.
Dragging it up to his shoulders, fixing you with a look, “You best keep those right here.”
“You don’t want me to touch you?” You ask, eyes flicking down to the peek of skin at his throat.
“I want these off.” He tells you instead, snapping the waistband of your pants against skin.
You have to leave him to do it. Watching the way his arms stretch across the back of the sofa, as you kick the pants off, then your underwear beneath.
Bare again, as you settle. Fitting yourself against the curve of his cock. Leather and metal kissing your skin as you move against him, until his lips are parted with a ragged breath.
You can feel your muscles clench. The slick slide of your pussy against his bulge, barely nudging at that deep-seated ache to be filled.
“Makin’ a mess, sweetheart.” He husks, his hips lifting to meet yours. Gloved hands moving to curl around your waist - pulling you down to meet him, coaxing a lazy rhythm from you.
“Rubbin’ up against me like a bitch in heat. Should make you clean that up.”
It coaxes a whine from you, as you let him move you. The sound does something to you - the layered approval in his tone, the low rasp of his voice. Not so unaffected as he seems, with how hard he is beneath you.
He must see it in your expression, a hand leaving the couch to grasp at your chin. Flexing up and into you, letting you feel the hard ridge of him.
“This what you want, sweetheart?”
Making you meet his gaze, as you answer. All dark eyes and the flash of teeth, under the brim of his hat.
“Yes.” You keen, “I need you, please-”
“S’that right? Need me to fuck you? Fill up that greedy little cunt?”
His head tipping back as he hums, as if disappointed. Each word exaggerated, with his slow drawl, “Well, I’d sure like to sweetheart… but it seems to me like I’ve been doing an awful lot of work around here.”
The hand leaves your chin to drop down. Slowly loosening a belt buckle, letting it pool on the cushions. Your cheeks heating when you see the slick shine to the front of his pants, where you’ve rutted yourself against him.
“Findin’ this place. Cleanin’ it out,” His eyes are on yours - your breath short as he tugs the zipper down. “Gettin’ you clothes.”
A sigh, before his voice drops, “Makin’ you come.”
You moan at that, a soft sound caught behind your teeth - fingers pinching into his shoulders.
Waiting for him to draw his cock out - fist wrapped around the base. Flushed and thick in his palm, inches away from where you need him.
The Ghoul does grin then, a wicked thing that shows his teeth.
“Think you oughta return the favor, don’t you?”
He’s giving you an inch - seeing if you’ll try to take a mile. A firm handle, still wrapped around a fist, but loosening the reins.
Letting himself watch.
“Seems fair.” You manage, breathless.
“Then go on,” He husks, “Show me how you can take it.”
Your hand reaches down, but then he’s clicking his tongue - fingers fixing back on his shoulders.
Leaving you to lift your hips. His cock slipping against your slick core, your teeth biting into your lip as you line yourself up - the rough head catching at your entrance.
It’s different this time. Sinking down on him, feeling each inch as it splits you open - instead of suddenly filling you to the hilt.
“Fuck,” You sigh, with the stretch. It twinges deep inside you, where his hips fit against yours.
Lifting yourself only to sink back down, his arms flexing beneath his coat as he lets you ride him, your pace slowly picking up until you’re bouncing on his cock.
As much as you enjoyed last time, there was something about this. Fully able to watch the way his lips part, hear the rattling groan when you tighten around him.
See the way his eyes skate across the bruise on your neck, only to drop down to watch the sway of your tits as your fingers lace behind his neck.
“Goddamn, sweetheart.” His hand flattens against the small of your back. The other gripping your hip, tugging you towards him, “You sure know how to ride.”
Not giving you time to answer, before his head is dipping. The brim of his hat knocking back when it hits your chin - the tips of your fingers just catching it. Slipping it on your own head for safekeeping before he can protest.
It earns you a sharp nip against the curve of your breast, before his lips close around the tight peak of a nipple and sucks.
You cry out, chasing the pressure that builds in your belly. Growing even more wet with the slick swirl of his tongue and the scrape of teeth - his cock grinding against a spongy spot inside you as you arch into his mouth.
“Please,” You whine, fingers flexing and then curling. Needing more friction against your clit, where your heartbeat has dropped and settled.
Trying so hard to listen, a whine between your gritted teeth. Your tits glossy with spit when he leans back, giving you a knowing look.
“You wanna come?” He husks - his eyes dropping, as you nod, “Only if you lean back and show me, sweetheart.”
Relief sings in you, as you adjust. Thighs spreading, as you grip onto his shoulder. Leaning back until he can watch the way he spears into you. How he shines, all slicked up, with each roll of your hips.
Your other hand loses its grip in his coat to slip down, press where your bodies meet.
Fingertips circle, a low moan at the much-needed touch. Your rhythm grows sloppy until his hands hook beneath your thighs. Guiding you into a harsh rhythm, each pound of his cock winding you higher and higher as the couch creaks beneath you.
“Come on, cowpoke.” He rasps, his hand cracking down against your ass, “Is that the best you can do?”
It builds - your fingers pressing harder against the slick bud. Whimpered noises that are more sound than words, as his thighs spread, feet planting so he can drive up into you.
“I said come on.” He growls, “Wanna feel you come on my cock again.”
Like before, it feels like the control slips through your fingers. Your own touch brings you close to that edge, but it’s the pounding of his cock that makes you fall.
Your back arching, crying out as your core clenches. Pleasure bursting deep inside you, racing up your spine and down to the tips of your fingers and pointed toes.
The quick thrust slowa into a lazy grind. A low “atta girl” that he grits out, as he feels the way you come hard around him.
Eyes dropping from your face to watch the greedy press of your fingers as you draw it out - until his own hand is wrapping around your wrist.
Tugging your hand away as the pleasure still courses inside you, hips still chasing the last ripples as you ride his cock.
Bringing your fingers to his mouth. Fitting them against teeth and tongue as his lips close around, tasting the slick that clings to them.
It makes goosebumps raise on your skin. The briefest thrill of fear. Certain that if you pulled your fingers free right now, the flesh and muscle would peel from you - leaving only bones behind.
He groans loudly around them, teeth indenting your skin. Tongue swirling against your knuckles, his hips rocking up to meet yours.
Freeing you, only to grasp at your hips - urging you to move faster. A loud slap of skin until his jaw is clenching - and he’s bringing you down once more against him with a rough sound.
Coming inside you again, but this time you get to see the way his head tips back with his snarl. How his fingers bite into your skin as you feel him throb - throat bared as he spills deep inside you with each rough jerk of his hips.
A flare of something flicking to life in your belly, knowing you did this to him. The groan he made when he tasted you echoing in your mind, giving you something to keep.
You make to move when he goes still, but a hand grips at your hip - holding you in place. Keeping you full of him, as the afterglow still glitters in your veins.
His eyes are dark, fixed on you. Taking in your shadowed, half-lidded gaze - sweat-dewed and bare skinned against him. His hat, still perched on your head. Looking like it belongs there.
A hand digs around in his bag. Pulling out the inhaler for his serum. Snapping it together without his gaze leaving you.
Bringing it to his mouth after - sucking in a deep, held breath. Those eyes closing with a low, contented groan.
A broad hand slips from your hip to splay across the back of your neck, fingers digging into your throat. Pulling you down to him - just as his head tilts to press his lips against yours.
Just as you soften, he exhales - the RadAway flooding through your parted lips. A stinging, metallic taste of iodine that makes you shudder, before you realize he’s deepening the kiss.
You lean into it without thought. The ache in your gums fading with the brush of his tongue. His grip anchoring you in place as he takes, licking into your mouth while his cock still fills you.
Leaving you breathless. Letting him, as your own arms wrap around his shoulders to keep him close. Meeting the messy scrape of teeth and swirl of tongue. The sharp taste fading, layered with the whisky and a hint of you that still lingers.
Before he’s pulling back far too soon, eyes dark as he pants.
“Fuck.” He rasps - his tongue tasting where yours had been, flicking across a lower lip. Before he’s looking at the inhaler - shaking it for another use.
“Looks like I might just have to keep you around.”
You make what you can with the rest of the supplies afterward - waste not, want not. An extra stimpak. Swiping the rest of the mentats, keeping the grape and berry ones for yourself. Refilling your canteen with more of the purified water.
The rest of the chems you gather - packing them in a tin. Tossing them his way, a low whistle when he sees what’s inside.
It’s late enough that the Ghoul decides it’s best to stay here, and leave at dawn. Certain that he will catch up to the bounty tomorrow, already sure of two places where he might be offloading the stolen wares.
You don’t mind. The uneasy thought of sleeping in a house with corpses quickly overshadowed by the real mattresses waiting in the basement. Stained but there’s still bedding - patched up blankets.
A fire, that he coaxes to life in the fireplace upstairs. Dinner, roasting over it.
It almost feels like something. A moment you can play pretend - that these walls will keep you safe.
That maybe you could clean it up.
That maybe he didn’t despise you, and maybe he’d want to stay.
It’s a foolish thought, a sigh as you push it from you. Digging a spoon into the rusted can of Pork ‘N Beans you had scavenged - not trusting the look of the skewer he had been tending.
A thumb running across your lower lip, as you chew. Remember how his had felt. Examining the angry marks pressed into your knuckles.
His shadow crosses over you, then - you have to crane your neck up to see him. His hat back where it belongs, much like your own clothes.
The tilt of his head, as he considers you again. Before his hand is slipping into the bag that slings across his shoulder.
Gloved fingers curling around something - tossing it silently into your lap, before he’s disappearing upstairs to finish his sweep of the house.
It’s golden, in the light of the fireplace. Seems like he’s already done a little looting of his own. A rolled up bag, the tube and needle tucked inside.
And a bottle of the RadAway you made for him.
save a horse, ride a cowboy and all that 🤠💖 (thank you so much for reading! would love to know what you thought if you enjoyed!)
#please mind the tags!#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard x you#the ghoul x reader#the ghoul x you#fallout smut#fallout tv series#fallout#cooper howard
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ADA Dazai x Reader
💌Obligatory sex pollen fic I guess?? chapter 2💌
Summary: Certain abilities Dazai can dispel outright without touching the user. This has always confused the brunette greatly where the technical line was drawn. During Q's apocalypse, he couldn't bring individuals back to their senses but with Shiwabusa's fog he could prevent Chuuya’s ability from manifesting. Apparently this “Sex pollen” ability was more like the former example. Which left Dazai the only one conscious of their actions as everyone fucked like rabbits.
Notes: Based on a dream I had a few nights ago....This chapter is shorter because I started waking up once I realized it was THAT DREAM, I'm literally crying it got a second chapter some one help😭
Contains: sex pollen, dubcon, pregnancy, mpreg, pregnant Fyodor, Fyodor being painfully religious, 🍋 in chapter 1
💌 Wordcount 1,971 💌 Chapter 2 of ?? [If I have another dream I am obligated to update this] <= Previous chapter
Just like that for a few weeks everything was back to some semblance of normalcy. Out of sight out of mind you guess. Once you stopped feeling sick all the time you could hardly tell you were pregnant at all. You were still confined to the office since it would take anywhere from 3 to 6 months to fully heal from your injuries but that was fine with you. Honestly you don’t understand how Dazai does it. You've been pampered by Yosano's ability. It didn't even occur to you that you'd still have to have some sort of physical therapy afterwards either. Meanwhile Dazai gets shot and stabbed all the goddamn time and he takes it like a champ. Just one more reason to like him you guess.
Dazai looked up to catch you staring. You didn’t look away but your face did start to feel warm. You hadn’t really sat down and talked about it in depth yet. That night or about the child and honestly no one in the office has really tried to bring it up either. Although you still don't know what to say, sooner or later someone has to say something and hopefully it won't have to be you. Unfortunately you have a feeling it's going to be you.
Dazai glanced at the door and frowned. He's been trying to avoid any meaningful confrontation but judging from the sounds outside he swallowed. He knew those footsteps better than anyone and it was only a matter of time before “he” showed up. This might as well be happening today. Without warning Chuuya emerged from the doorway looking annoyed.
“Okay, which one of you is the weretiger!”
Atsushi hesitantly raised his hand. You raised an eyebrow at the exchange. What was the mafia executive doing looking for Atsushi? Dazai sighed and rose to his feet, putting an arm around Atsushi as Chuuya approached the two.
“Why Chuuya, what brings you out to our domain! I almost didn't see you there, have you gotten shorter?” He smiles cheerfully. You swear you could see flowers and sparkles surrounding him.
Chuuya crossed his arms “Go to hell and wait your turn. I have a bone to pick with you after I square away business with the tiger boy.” He glared at Atsushi, sizing him up. “And you, my boy Akutagawa hasn't been the same since your guy's little rescue operation. Mind telling me why that is?” It was surprisingly less threatening and more of a genuine question.
Atsushi’s face flushed a few shades darker “Why don't you ask him! He's the one who-” He stopped mid sentence, groaning. He figured Akutagawa wouldn't talk about it to anyone either but being asked directly because Akutagawa was out of sorts was insulting. How did he think Atsushi felt? “You know what, the bottom line is I'm pregnant and it's his fault he used his stupid ability like that. If anything I should be the one who's traumatized!”
Chuuya hummed, putting his hand under his chin as he thought about an earlier encounter. “Oh so that's why he was muttering about being bound to the weretiger. He was saying something about not even holding hands yet and having to marry you. Guess that makes me the godfather for two babies then.” the redhead shrugged like this conversation was an everyday occurrence.
Atsushi slouched, was this karma for trying to suggest that Fyodor and Nikolai should get married?
“Don’t tell me Akutagawa is religious too.”
Chuuya furrowed his eyebrows. “What? No listen kid, this is about stepping up to responsibilities. Raising a kid's a big deal.” He looked over at Dazai with a smirk about to add one more thing but Dazai interjected, flicking the brim of Chuuya's hat.
He continued to wave his hand in the other's face. “Who said you were the godfather? I don't remember calling you.” Both of their expressions went flat for a moment as they glared at each other passively.
“You should have, it would have been better to hear the news from you than from Mori.” He huffed “Why didn't you? It's not like you to go back on your word. What happened too, I wouldn't lie about something like this.” He mocked in a Dazai like fashion.
“I thought you were too drunk to remember that!” Dazai whined.
“Yeah well I also remember promising to be your best man if you ever lived long enough to find someone.” Chuuya leaned back into his hip “So?” the redhead crossed his arms, waiting.
“So what?” Dazai said matter of factly. As the two stared back at each other, Atsushi finally sat down. Why did they have to do this at his desk?
“So what? You're not even going to introduce me!”
Dazai rolled his eyes. Is that really what Chuuya came here for? When Chuuya walked in you had gotten up from your desk to make tea. As you brought the cups over Dazai walked around you and put his hand on your shoulder “(Y/N), Chuuya, Chuuya, (Y/N). There, you happy?”
“Wait (Y/N)? You mean your-” Dazai cut him off but Chuuya looked surprised. You wonder what he was going to say. It sounded important.
Dazai pankicked and grabbed the other from behind covering his mouth as he dragged him out into the hallway. “Nope that's it you overstayed your welcome.”
Once the door shut Ranpo pouted “I'm pregnant too ya know. I wouldn't mind Mr. Fancy hat being the godfather.” He puffed out his cheeks.
Atsushi rolled his eyes. “That's all you got from that!”
Ranpo sighed “No, I also got the image of Akutagawa tying you up so thanks for that.”
Atsushi stood up so fast his chair nearly fell over. “How can everybody speak about it so casually!”
He looked over to you with pleading eyes. Atsushi was probably hoping you'd back him up. Instead you laughed, handing him the disregarded tea.
“Well for starters only the adults are here today and the more you talk about it the less power it has.” You handed the detective another cup. “Although instead of putting you on the spot Ranpo should have asked if you wanted to talk about it first or at least opened up about his experience.”
He took a sip of tea before shrugging. Ranpo didn't mind sharing at all in fact he’s glad someone asked about it. “Not much to say really. Poe hugged me from behind and by the time I realized he wasn't doing it to be cute I just kinda went with it.” Ranpo shrugged with a smile on his face. “I'm more curious what happened with Kunikida!”
The blonde tensed as you set the last cup down in front of him. He had stopped his typing as a bead of sweat dripped down the side of his face. “Do I have too?” Out of everyone in the office Kunikida had been the one trying the hardest to skirt around the conversations. He wanted to forget it ever happened. It was bad enough that Dazai would tease him about it whenever they were alone.
Ranpo hummed “Akiko's really careful because she could never give up drinking for that long, so since you're not forced into being a dad, dealer's choice?” You all nodded in agreement, it only seemed fair since you were putting him on the spot.
Kunikida pushed up his glasses. You assume he probably doesn't want to share. Instead he turns to address you. “Which reminds me, I thought Yosano gave you a contraceptive too?”
“I was so exhausted I forgot it was in my pocket and never took it.” You frowned. It didn't feel like a priority in the moment but like most of them you were out of it. “But forced parenting aside, right now this is about sexual trauma.”
Kunikida cleared his throat “I wouldn't know what to share. I turned to look at Yosano and the next thing I know we're kissing in a passionate manner.” He paused wondering if he should say something about the elephant in the room. “Also this should go without saying, but no one is forcing you to be a parent. Ranpo and Atsushi might not have a choice but there's still plenty of time for you to think it over. No one would stop you if you decided you're not ready to be a mother.” This was true but your mind was already made up.
Somehow only Ranpo knew of your crush? You thought it was fairly obvious. Had it been anyone else you probably would have gotten rid of it by now.
Ranpo laughed before you could answer, sharing his two cents. “Who said I don't have a choice? I'm choosing to have this little munchkin! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity to see what me and Poe create. Besides, I've always wanted a mini me!” He patted his stomach proudly.
Atsushi sipped on his tea “That's true. So in a weird way it kind of worked out for you and Poe huh. At least one of us lucked out.” He’s been avoiding Akutagawa as much as possible ever since that night.
Ranpo snickered, “I would say two of us lucked out.” He draped one around your shoulder opening his eyes to give you a smug look. “Well you care to share with the class? This was your idea after all.”
So that’s why he bothered to bring all of this up. You sighed in defeat. “Lucked out my ass!” Your cheeks were red as Atsushi and Kunikida gave you incredulous looks “Keep in mind Dazai was fully conscious of his actions. He kind of just let me get it out of my system in hope that I would eventually snap out of it,” You groaned hiding your face in your hands “and yes, apparently I was begging him to fuck a baby into me. Is that what you wanted to hear, Ranpo!”
Ranpo blinked a few times “You didn't have to go that far but yeah I was just trying to get you to mention your crush on Dazai.”
“You have a crush on Dazai?!” Both Atsushi and Kunikida shouted. Kunikida nearly spat out his tea. You groaned “That’s why I was planning on keeping the child but I feel like I'd be baby trapping him.”
“It’s not baby trapping if you decide to keep the child, it's your body. I already told you that you have the final say.”
Everyone slowly turned their heads back to see Dazai coming back into the office. You swallowed “How much of that did you hear?”
“Not much but you already told me your reason for wanting to keep the kid.” He shrugged nonchalantly and everyone wiped their heads back to you.
Atsushi was dumbfounded. “Wait a second, let me get this straight. He knows that you-”
Dazai spoke over him. “-Always wanted kids, it's not that big of a deal. Unless that's not what we're talking about?” He tilted his head to the side. Did he miss something? It took a lot out of him to turn Chuuya away especially after the stupid slug made his own revelations about the situation.
You released the breath you were holding. Everyone else understood Dazai was just as oblivious to your feelings as always. Eventually you would have to tell him but it was still early enough in the process to figure that out. At least everyone else in the office knew why you’ve been acting weird since that night.
Kunikida groaned at the realization. “I don't know if I can handle a mini Ranpo running around, let alone a mini Dazai.” He went back to his work. “It’s bad enough having to work with Dazai as is.”
You laughed as the two tried to defend themselves.
#bsd imagines#bsd fanfic#bsd dazai#bsd x reader#dazai x reader#dazai osamu x reader#my bsd brainrot is showing#x reader#based on a dream i had#i can't believe this got a chapter 2
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oh
December 4, 2022
Livia was sitting on the couch with Kate, both sitting in robes and their hair in braids with a hair mask in, with a clay face mask on their faces and Kate was working on Livia’s nails.
Tyler was sitting next to them leaning his head back on the couch and had his cucumbers still on his eyes.
Livia has been adored by the couple since she met them and at least once a month usually a few times a month they always have a spa night and just gossip.
Livia also loves to babysit their three dogs when the two want to go on a date night and the two will always come home and find her fast asleep on the couch with their dogs cuddled around Livia.
“Soooo!” Tylee singsonged as he leaned up and caught the cucumbers that fell off his face and tossed them into his mouth.
Kate and Livia shared an exasperated look but both turned to Tyler.
“When are you going to put poor johnny out of his misery and tell him you’re in love with him.” Tyler looked extremely curious as he blunty asked Livia.
The whole team very quickly picked up on the fact Wyatt is completely in love with Livia, it was extremely easy to realize and he is always following her around like a puppy in love.
But the team could also tell Livia was also just in love with Wyatt, meaning they have seen her speak more words to him in one day than she had said to all of them in her first month in Dallas.
Also how they both of them are always touching each other and Wyatt and Livia are always found cuddling with each other and always both fast asleep.
Livia choked on her own breath and her eyes widening so much they nearly looked like they were going to pop out.
Kate winced in sympathy and gently rubbed Livia’s back as she tried to catch her breath again.
“What! Me and Wy are just friends.” Livia quickly spluttered out still looking completely shocked.
Tyler let out a booming laugh, “You don’t actually think that.” Tyler slowly stopped laughing when he saw Livia’s face, “You don’t actually think that do you?” Tyler looked extremely incredulous.
“We’re just friends.” Livia protested shrugging back.
“She’s joking.” Tyler shook his head in disbelief and then looked at his girlfriend, “She’s joking right?”
“Do you like him?” Kate gently questioned Livia, turning her full attention to the young girl.
“He’s my best friend.” Livia simply answered and avoiding the question.
“That’s not an anwser.” Tyler piped in and Kate shot him a stern look not wanting to overwhelm Livia too much, especially when it’s obvious she’s pretty confused.
“Liv do you like Wyatt?” Kate gently asked once more giving her an encouraging smile.
Livia blanched looking extremely overwhelmed and confused at the same time, “I uh don’t know.” Livia stuttered out truthfully she never let herself think to much about the idea of liking Wyatt never wanting to mess anything up.
“Alright how about this, i’ll ask you some questions and you see if Wyatt does that to you?” Kate softly suggested and Livia nodded in agreement
“Do you get butterflies around him? like your stomach turns into knots and it makes you nervous but the good nervous?” Kate gently grabbed Livia’s hand and gently rubbed her knuckles comforting
Sixteen year old Livia and Wyatt were each other prom dates and Livia had a dark green dress that had long puffy mesh sleeves and Wyatt had an all black suit with a matching tie and pocket square to her dress
Wyatt gently clipped on the botuiner on her dainty wrist, the flowers matched the two perfect.
Wyatt was having the time of his life being able to go to prom with the girl he’s been in love with for years he looked back up and gently brushed back a baby hair off of her forehead and gave her a fond smile.
Livia didn’t understand why at the time her stomach was turning but she felt extremely excited and her cheeks were burning.
“Does he make you feel safe?” Kate added watching Livia closely.
Livia was tense as she stood with the team by the bar, all she wanted was to go home and get some sleep especially with her ribs hurting from the hit she got that night.
Wyatt looked over trying to find her and saw how tense she was and the pinch between her eyebrows that only shows up when she is uncomfortable.
Wyatt quickly pushed through the crowd quickly and made it right to Livia’s side, he wrapped an arm gently around her shoulder and watch as she tensed before realizing it was him and relaxing into him.
“Wanna go back?” Wyatt’s leaned down and whispered against her ear, and Livia quickly nodded wanting to go home.
She let out a sigh as she relaxed completely against him feeling safe as he led them outside.
“And most importantly does he make you smile?” Kate asked once more.
An eighteen year old Wyatt walked in Livia’s room holding a bag and he frowned at the sight of his best friend looking so sick in bed, she was mostly hidden under the blankets but you could see her bright red nose and glossy eyes.
“Oh Livvy.” Wyatt gently cooed walking over and sitting next to her and gently feeling her forehead that was way too warm.
“Wy.” Livia mumbled her eyes looking up at him pitifully.
“I know i know.” Wyatt mumbled soothingly knowing how much Livia hates being sick.
He set the bag onto her bed, “I got your favorite chicken noodle soup.” Wyatt told her watching as she perked up slightly, “And if you eat most of it i got you chocolate chip cookies.” Wyatt shook the bag of cookies knowing they are her absolute favorite.
“Only if you get under the blanket.” Livia mumbled giving him puppy eyes.
“Like you had to even ask.” Wyatt quipped jack and getting up taking his jacket and shoes off and Livia smiled for the first time since she felt sick and it was all because of her best friend.
“Oh.” Livia breathed out as she realized all these years she has been in love with him.
Kate and Tyler shared a relieved look that they managed to make her figure out her feelings.
#liviadrysdaleau#ld4#wyatt johnston x oc#wyatt johnston#ty dellandrea#tyler seguin#joe pavelski#jamie benn#jamie drysdale#jamie drysdale x oc#trevor zegras x oc#luke hughes#luke hughes x oc#jack hughes#jack hughes x oc#quinn hughes x oc#quinn hughes#trevor zegras#roope hintz#jake oettinger#jason robertson#miro heiskanen#dallas stars#philadelphia flyers#flyers hockey#anaheim ducks#mason mctavish#nhl x oc#nhl au#new jersey devils
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Ya'll catch the final rose ceremony at the end of s4?!
#byler#stranger things#'last nights episode ended on a cliffhanger with the audience left wondering who bachelor-mike would choose--'#'will he choose the one who walked around the rose delicately to stand with it framed neatly in the background between the two of them?--'#'or will he choose the one who bulldozed it?'#'all will be answered tonight on the series finale of bachelor apocalypse'#no but seriously is that flower in front of el cgi?#depending on how many takes this shot took... i don't think they'd have something like this occur unless they wanted it to#i know they hand picked flowers for these shots#but it's not like that rules out them using movie magic#especially in this case where it was apparently important enough for them to handpick in the first place...#meaning there is in fact some significance to it#i hope this shot puts the 'it's not a love triangle' allegations to rest#like idk why fans would rather believe the duffers are sorcerers who can do dozens of things coincidentally all fitting a specific narrativ#bc that would honestly be way more impressive to me than them just using basic film techniques and tropes lmao
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Pudding: sanji proposed to me
The two people of his polycule: HUH?!
#omg carrot just killed that rabbit.....#well he is alive but still#also what brook did was cool as hell...#sanji thinks his crew made it out and is just now on his married life picking flowers and all#having nami and luffy there is just so ahdkahsjsjks barking biting the bars of my enclosure#a comment saying pedro el comanche ajdhaks#what is pudding gonna do why is nami crying omg#akshkahdka sanji why would you trust big mooom.... whyyyyy#why did the servant offered sanji an aubergine to eat qkdhakdhsk#sanji saying pudding worries him while hilding a tangerine nooooo.... i know what you mean#omg big mom is comong for brook#REIJU????? ISNT YOUR HEAD LIKE YOUR BROTHERS???#THE PLOT THICKENS!!!!#pedro was captain of the nox pirates and he has no time left to live???omg fifty years... pedro nooooo#OH HIS EYEE!!!!! OMG PEDROOO!!!#where tf did she get shot???? her stomach???#episode 815#talking tag#watching one piece#nami telling luffy to stop or he will lose his hands and luffy saying thats what he is trying to do. HIS HANDS!!! sanji.....#luffy is so unstable here.... like this is bad bad#also no way a shot to reiju has hurt her that bad.... isnt she supposed to have an exo skeleton...#oh pedro lost a friend.... is that bepo's dad....#his name is zepo.... well yes#pedro propelling himself with his tail....#pedro taking hiw own eye out!!!!#omg pedro believing in luffy.... new nakama come on!!!.....#omg he cut him in half.....#episode 816
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ෆ delicate
ෆ matthew riddle x hufflepuff! shy! reader
ෆ summary: the one in which Matthew can’t leave such a beautiful girl crying alone in a dress like that.
ෆ warnings: English translated from google (please let me know if there are any grammatical mistakes), alteration of the history of mattheo and tom (tom is not voldemort but an potions teacher like snape).
ෆ notes: i just love shy!reader so much, im sorry if all my one shots are all with shy or hufflepuff reader, IM JUST A GIRL
𖦹
Parties have never really been your favorite way to spend time, loud music and dancing until your feet hurt in the middle of many strangers, not really your tipe of thing.
But a prom was so different, the music was slow, and the dresses, the delicate makeup, even more the winter ball, with the decorations in light shades of blue and white, was a dream.
Especially when you had someone to spend the night, a date, but maybe for lack of popularity, you hadn’t gotten a pair for tonight, your circle of friends was extremely limited, but if you did not have a pair it was not for lack of desire.
Since the prom was announced, you dreamed of being invited by none other than Cedric Digory.
He was tall, kind, sweet, confident, and extremely outgoing, always surrounded by his friends, but you weren’t special for having the attention picked up by Digory, half the girls of your year also dreamed the same thing as you, on being asked to be his date on the romantic night of the winter dance, unfortunately, you and Cedric, although you’ve interacted a few times - just a few little conversations he pulled during class, or little smiles as you passed each other in the hallway - you were very different, he was extremely confident and liked the attention, you did not.
In the little conversations you shared with him, you believed that those glances and those smiles had a greater meaning, maybe you forgot that he was just polite, or you knew but liked to pretend not, because the feeling was good, of being seen, of someone enjoying holding a conversation, and as much as you didn’t talk so much, he liked your words spoken in a low tone of quiet, or you thought he liked it.
the weeks passed and nothing came, not an owl or a letter, not even a flower, so your hopes were lost, as much as you had heard through the corridors that Cedric Digory had no pair and was considering going alone to the winter ball.
…
With only a few minutes left until the beginning of the prom, you were lying on the bed, wet hair tied in a towel with a robe around your body, looking at the ceiling with your hands resting one on top of the other in the region of your chest.
the room smelled like shampoo and the fragrance of the strawberry liquid soap you shared in the bathroom with your roommates.
"Come on, you need to go!" Lizzie, your closest friend, and roommate says excited, you and she used to make plans for a long time about this dance together. "We've been talking about it for so long, just for you to give up because of Cedric?"
She talks to you while tiing her hair delicately in a built-in braid, her yellow dress contrasting with her brown eyes and blonde hair.
"Oh Liz, you don't understand..." you whine "I don't have a pair, you at least go with someone nice."
"If that's the problem, you know I can leave Oliver dancing alone while we dance together." she rolls her eyes playfully and says excitedly, she looks at you through the mirror, you turn your face so that yours looks to meet, you smile softly at her.
"Don't do that." you say and giggles lightly.
You turn your head up again and sigh.
"All right, I’ll go..." You give yourself defeated and hear a lively scream from Liz, sit on the bed with your legs crossed.
She finishes the braid in her hair and finally turns to you looking for approval.
"do i look good?" She asks making an exaggerated pose with her hands on her waist and a smile from ear to ear.
She had a long yellow dress with several details of embroidered white flowers, and her blonde hair was in a single built-in braid with some messy strands giving her a stripped air, a yellow heel on her feet.
You smile at her and answer with a giggle "You look beautiful Liz, I'm sure Oliver will fall in love with you once again!"
Her smile changes to a shy smile and she looks at herself in the mirror again.
"I'm going to ask one of the girls to do my makeup, I hope that when I get back you'll be very ready for us to go!" She says excited and takes her makeup case, it is white with kittens and pink tulips and fits in the palm of her hand.
You suppress a smile with your lips and nod your head agreeing.
As soon as she leaves the dorm you get out of bed and go to the shared vanity, you sit on the wooden chair looking at your reflection in the mirror.
So you did your best to feel beautiful enough to go to the ball, dried your hair, and made a small braid on each side, a white bow holding them together, a light makeup on your face with a little glitter marking your eyes, and some golden accessories.
You get up from the vanity and walk to the full-length mirror that was on the door of the big wardrobe you shared with Lizzie.
The dress was hanging right next to the mirror, she went to her heels it was a shade of pearly white and made all of silk, it was beautiful, and you have been dreaming of it for so long.
You take it by the hanger and gently dress it with you back to the mirror, after fixing your hair and accessories, you turn to the mirror again and the view enchants you, feeling so beautiful, the dress had fallen so well on your body and your makeup, along with the simple hairstyle that made you so delicate.
Soon you hear the door open and turn quickly.
Lizzie gasped with an admired smile on her face and approached you quickly.
"You look won-der-ful!" She holds your hand and makes you do a little spin, a slight blush of shyness arrives on your cheeks while you give a soft giggle.
She releases from your hand and goes to the chair where two purses are hanging, one in a yellow and white tone and the other all white with small details in golden, she takes your lip gloss on top of the vanity and puts it inside the white purse, along with a mascara and a pink lip moisturizer that she puts in the yellow one, Going to you, she extends the white and you take it and put it on your shoulder.
"Let's go... the girls told me that Oliver is already waiting for me downstairs!" She says excited, ready to leave the dorm.
…
The great hall was splendid, in a whole shade of dark blue, the false sky with small and bright stars, the music was lively but still calm, couples were dancing in the center and some other people and groups of friends on the decorated tables.
You entered right behind Oliver and Lizzie, enjoying the place.
You sat at a table together where you shared a small talk to pass the time, as far as you could no longer ignore the passionate looks that Olive sent to her best friend and decided to leave them alone for a few minutes.
"I'm going to get something to drink, I'll be right back..." you asked excuse me getting up from the table with a gentle smile on her lips, Liz reciprocated shyly before giving all her attention to the brunette next to her.
Following up to a large table that was full of appetizers and different types of drinks, you took a red plastic cup and filled it with strawberry punch, from afar you could see Lizzie and olive sharing laughter, so you decided it was better to stay there for a while.
you got distracted looking down at your fingers while playing with the golden rings there, so distracted that you didn’t hear or notice when a tall brown boy came up to your side.
"Hey! you here!" Cedric said excitedly coming to your side with a little tap on your shoulder.
your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden presence of the boy, you turned to him with a small glance at his hand on your shoulder, visibly shy.
your heart began to beat faster in your chest and suddenly your throat was dry and your head could not find words to answer the boy with such beautiful eyes.
"Cedric... hi" you were louder than usual on account of the music playing, a small smile on your lips.
"You look good." he says in a charming tone approaching you, he passes by your side as he approaches the table behind you.
your cheeks are flushed with the comment and you don't know how to answer so you just chuckle shyly and admire him as he looks at the table.
"Thank you." you wanted to say that he looked good too but the words don’t seem to want to leave your mouth.
He serves himself in a red plastic cup just like yours, you watch him as he takes a gray canteen out of his suit pocket and baptizes the drink in the cup, you look at him and he seems not to notice, you look away at the couples dancing in the center of the Great hall.
He leans against your side, an arm leaning on the table behind your back without touching you, you suppress your lips, nervous with his proximity, playing with your rings again you swear you can feel your heart almost jumping from your chest.
He lifts the canteen as if offering you some of the whiskey he kept in his suit.
"Do you drink?" he asks with a gentle smile as if asking a casual question.
you look around nervous to see if any teacher is looking at you, which fortunately is not.
"No, but thank you." you gently refuse with a shy smile, he nods and hides the canteen on his suit again.
Now it’s his turn to watch the couples dancing in the center of the prom, a huge jealousy hitting his chest as he sees Cho Chang dancing in the arms of another boy.
You don’t follow his gaze, still playing your rings, the silence starts to bother you when he suddenly catches your hand, you look at him surprised, kinda bothered by the sudden touch.
"Do you want to dance?" he asks with an almost nervous smile.
suddenly you were speechless again, he wanted to dance? with you?
you nodded looking a little bit more lively, a big smile popping up on your lips.
was playing a song you didn’t know as Cedric took you to the center of the Great Hall, his hand resting on your waist.
you danced in a funny sync, but for you, everything seemed perfect. At least until you realize that Cedric wasn’t even paying attention to you.
you exclaimed softly in pain as he stepped on a finger as you danced, stopping for a few seconds.
He suddenly takes his eyes off something he was staring at behind you and looks at you surprised, then gives a little look at your foot, realizing his mistake.
"Oh, sorry, really sorry, I swear I’m not that bad normally" he apologizes with a nervous expression.
You can only nod your head and agree with a fake smile realizing that he doesn’t even care to look at you while apologizing, you follow his gaze and find none other than Cho Chang dancing and laughing with some other Corvinal boy.
You look away before he notices, and look down at your feet, gathering the courage to give an excuse to leave, he seems to notice.
"hey... you all right?" he asks with a gentle little smile and pretending to be worried.
So you look up at him, and you realize that he wasn’t trying to hurt you, of course, it was a little rude to treat you as a second choice, but it wasn’t his fault if he didn’t have feelings for you.
You sigh quietly “im sorry, cedric, i gotta go”
You don’t wait for an answer and get rid of his arms without looking at him because you know if he asks looking in your eyes you would stay.
Passing the couples dancing together you run a firm step out of the Great Hall, hoping to be alone for a while.
The thought of coming to the prom alone was beginning to look pathetic in your head, you should have stayed in your dorm.
you pass through the corridor of the stairs and follow to the courtyard, a bubble of anguish forming in your throat, along with the burning in the tip of your nose, indicating the will to cry.
You always used to cry for silly things, as simple as they were, like the end of a romantic book, or a sad movie, sometimes happiness, sometimes anger.
Now you felt pathetic, for not having a pair and having been made second choice, a mixture of sadness and upset formed the tears in the corner of your eyes.
You leaned on the stone wall, your hands covering your eyes to prevent more tears from falling.
the sound of you back on the stone wall catches Matthew attention, he looks back and would not have noticed that you were crying if not for the hand in your eyes, you sobbed silently.
He lets the cigarette smoke out of his mouth still holding it between his lips if he mentally asks if he should ask you what was happening or should sneak out while you hadn’t noticed his presence.
He analyzes your whole body, from the white Maryjane on your feet to the jewelry you wore on your neck, before sighing softly and taking the cigarette out of his mouth, his night was so boring that he needed a distraction.
Matthew also did not have a prom date, but not for lack of choice, nor would he come to this dance considered ridiculous in his vision, refused one or two dates saying that he would not attend, unfortunately, Lorenzo, one of his best friends, convinced him to stay at least a few minutes before disappearing with his escort, Matthew tired of being alone decided to go out to smoke without being caught by some of the teachers, he planned to finish and climb back to his dorm.
His plans were ruined.
You feel the smell of cigarettes and the presence next to you and take your hand out of your eyes to look at Matthew next to you, your cheeks red by crying, and now the shame of being caught crying, matching with the tip of your nose also reddish and your eyes glowing with tears.
He looks at you and then realizes why your dress is white, was to match your angelic appearance, he notes mentally to thank Lorenzo later for forcing him to come.
"hi." he whispers with a neutral expression, not so serious but also not smiling.
"Hi?" you whisper, yet come out as a question.
You wipe the corner of your eyes, looking elsewhere than him, still ashamed of being caught crying over something so silly.
"Why aren’t you at the prom?" he asks as if you’re not crying, without asking your name as if you already know each other.
Uncertain of what to say, because you did not want to open up to a stranger, especially when the unknown was the son of the frightening professor of potions, Tom Riddle.
"I... found it boring." you whisper shyly, your hands playing with the heart pendant of your necklace.
"so boring that it made you want to cry? what a coincidence, me too, I just wiped my tears." he says with a serious tone but visibly joking.
You let out a giggle realizing that he took your lie, forgetting what had just happened.
"All right, it’s just a silly motive."
"Will you tell me you don’t have someone to dance with?" he asks with a giggle as if he’s joking.
"I haven’t." Your smile falls and you look at your own feet.
He tilts his head to look at your face, not believing that someone so beautiful and dressed so well is crying for not having someone to dance with.
"you’re lying."
"I’m not." you whisper uncertainly and he giggles out of disbelief.
After a few seconds in silence, he puts the cigarette in his mouth again, and from a puff, you watch as he releases the smoke between his lips and takes the cigarette out of his mouth again.
The cold began to bother you, your hands rose and your arms crossed above your chest in search of heat, he notices and comes a little closer, not so much not to scare you.
"Was it someone who made you cry?" he asks quietly, alternating between looking at you and the cigarette on his fingers.
"yes."
"your boyfriend?"
"No." you reply, feeling foolish again, for crying over a boy who isn’t even your boyfriend. "It’s silly."
He stares at you as he leans his head against a stone wall, your eyes still sparkling from tears as you look at your shoe, he notes that the tears lightly blurred your mascara.
He lifts his fingers to the tip of your eyes and passes his thumb over the stain carefully, you look at him uncertain with the proximity, your cheeks turning pink again, and he smiles noticing you blushing with the touch.
"was stained" he clarifies
"with mascara?" he nods agreeing, the cold starting to bother him too.
"Don’t you want to come in? It’s getting cold in here, and you’re out of coat." He whispers, putting his cigarette out on the wall behind him, before throwing it on the floor, wet from the rain earlier.
"I think I’ll go back to my dorm." you whisper letting your hands slip to the side of your body.
"Oh no you can’t leave," he says quickly, thinking of some reason to make you stay, not knowing that you didn’t need much because you hadn’t yet learned to say no, as much as it was someone unknown.
"I can’t?" you ask confused
"No... because... I wanted you to dance with me." he says at once without thinking, dancing? he didn’t dance, what had gone through his head?
His voice comes out neutral but he curses himself mentally, he did not want you to leave but he also did not want to dance.
"Do you want to dance with me?" you blush and suppress a smirk, he sighs without knowing how to answer.
"Yes." No, he doesn’t.
you smile with the words that come out of his lips.
Ok, maybe he wants, just a little.
"Okay." you smile shyly, looking at him slightly flushed, he looks between your glossy lips and your eyes shining.
He accompanies you to the Great hall again, making silly comments to keep you distracted, you thank him mentally.
"I don’t have a pair either, nor is it that bad right?" he says as you arrive.
"not much" you respond softly
a song ends when you arrive, and one of your favorite songs starts playing.
You take a deep breath and your smile increases, you start to think that the universe was trying to make you sad just to make you happy again.
Matthew has his hand on your waist while guiding you to the center of the Great Hall, which did not have as many couples as before, Fade Into You played in the background while the lights changed to a dark blue tone.
Your chests were glued and you were smaller than him, he can smell the floral smell of your shampoo, and then he takes a deep breath discreetly to feel it better.
You look up at him shyly, not knowing what to say to end the silence.
I wanna hold the hand Inside you
you whisper something quietly to him
I wanna take the breath thats true
"Sorry, I didn’t catch that" he whispers so just you can hear and bends down a little to hear you better, your bodies still dancing in sync truly perfect.
I look to you and i see nothing
you stand on tiptoe, your hand on his shoulder as you say in his ear "Thank you" It is still low but he could hear why you said it in his ear this time.
i look to you to see the truth
He had no idea what you were thanking him for, and neither did you.
You live your life, you go in shadows
"oh no, I should thank you." He whispers back to you, he talks louder, and he doesn’t have to say it in your ear, but he does it anyway.
You’ll come apart and you'll go blind
you shiver with his hoarse voice in your ear as he smiles at your reaction, realizing that maybe he likes to see you blush, even if the blue light is in the way.
Some kind of night into your darkness
he leaves a kiss on your neck next to your ear before he looks up again, his action making your heart race, you had never received this much attention from some boy.
Colors your eyes with what is not there
you smile shyly and he reciprocates before looking up around, you lower your head, and lean on his shoulder, while your bodies dance slowly, his hand that was previously intertwined with yours loose and goes down to your waist, his hand that was once intertwined with yours loose and descends to your waist, his arms hold you there, on his chest, your own hands follow his movements and climb to his neck, the silence began to get comfortable.
Fade into you
Stranger, you never knew
Fade into you
#mattheo riddle#slytherpuff#slytherin x hufflepuff#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo x you#mattheoxreader#harry potter#matthew riddle
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Gods I just have the funniest idea ever!
Can you do where Alastor will just do the most demonic, cannibalistic and brutal things ever (that even Lucifer was convinced that this mf CANNOT be redeem) but wifey was just sighing, heart eyes and goes 'isn't he the most adorable 🥰'
YES-
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
TW: Murder, Cannibalism
Description: ☝️⬆️
A lot of people tend to forget that you're ALSO in hell for a reason, assuming you to be Alastor's loving wife and not thinking beyond that
They forget that you love all of your husband, even his twisted side that scares everyone else
Maybe they somehow missed the days you tenderly wiped blood of his face after a particularly large meal of demons who got in his way
"You really should be more mindful of the mess you're making, hiding this lovely face with all this blood."
"Apologies, darling~"
Or the way you would sigh happily whenever the radio static in his voice would intensify due to anger
"He's so cute when he's angry~"
They were probably too busy staring at his humongous demon form to notice how you practically swooned and got weak in the knees at the sight
"Oh honey~ In public~?"
Nobody except Husker, who has been with you two long enough to know just how fucked up you are
Somehow, nobody at the hotel seems to notice any of these signs until Husk points it out to them
"How did that creepy fucker even pull Y/N anyways? There's no way that bitch is actually into his mess!"
Charlie is trying to shut Angel up before either you or your husband hear him, Vaggie nodding in agreement with Angel
Until Husk slams back a shot and points you, innocently reading and sitting in Alastor's lap
"What the fuck? Have any of you actually been using your eyes!? She fucking loves the shit he pulls!"
Everyone's whips their heads around to look at you in surprise, you only laugh and play with the ends of your husband's hair
Alastor's head does a full turn as he gives them a smug grin as he accepts a small kiss on the cheek from you
"What can I say? I'm just irresistible~"
They all start to pay closs attention to your relationship with Alastor after that, especially when he being particularly monstrous
And of course, Husk was fucking right
Alastor is squeezing some guy to death with a tentacle? You're fanning yourself from the balcony with your hand
"Isn't he just the most handsome man you've ever seen? Is it hot out here? I feel like it's hot out here..!"
"...sure, doll..."
You miss the way Angel scoots away from you and hides behind Vaggie
He's dangling another poor soul over his mouth and cackling at that sound of their terror? Suddenly, everyone sees the kiss you blow his way and the wink he gives you
"Remember to chew, darling~! I don't want you to get a stomachache from that lowlife!"
"Darling, you're embarrassing me..!"
Charlie is torn between being horrified and thinking that you two are the cutest couple ever
Alastor decapitates the next one and brings you the head as a gift? You're blushing and holding it like he just gave you a precious bouquet of flowers
"Oh, Alastor, aren't you just the most man romantic in hell~"
"I thought you might enjoy it~"
He looks so pleased with himself, leaning in to accept a gracious kiss on the cheek from his beloved wife
Vaggie is just so visibly shocked, looking at Husk in disbelief, the bartender simply rolling his eyes
"I told you, she's just as fucked up in the head as he is."
They all watch in shock as Alastor picks you up and carries you inside, the sound of your delighted giggling haunting them
Enjoy~
#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin x reader
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lavender roses
luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians
[fem!daughter of persephone reader]
summary: everyone thinks red roses are synonymous with the perfect love. you believe that lavender roses deserve more love, and luke believes that you’re worthy of all the love in the world—you’re both just bad at communicating it.
warnings: kissing, swearing, suggestive content, mentions of weapons, idiots, miscommunication trope but it’s cute dw, seriously they’re both so stupid and oblivious, besties to idiots to lovers
word count: 3.3k
(y’all i’m losing my mind i can’t stop writing but this might be one of my favourites ever)
(also i might put together a luke taglist and a clarisse taglist so lmk if you wanna be put on either of those and i’ll get to work on it 🤩)
———————————————
“i’m free february fourteenth,” you said nonchalantly.
you were sitting with luke at dinner and he’d just asked you if you ever had a day off working. as a daughter of persephone, you lived in the hermes cabin, but spent most of your time working in the strawberry fields. you spent every free moment there, soaking in the sun, helping the plants grow and picking flowers to put in vases around the cabin and infirmary.
he nodded as chris choked on his food beside him, coughing hard. “okay, we should hang out then.”
you weren’t sure if he knew what was going on. was he messing with you? playing a joke? really wanting to hang out with you on valentine’s day? or was he having a lapse of memory and he forgot that day had any significance at all?
either way, you nodded. when you spoke, your voice was slightly higher pitched than usual. “sure.”
“we can have a picnic. we haven’t done that in a while.” he was nodding still, looking into his food with a thoughtful expression.
the air nearly left your lungs. you nodded back, though he wasn’t looking at you, and exchanged a wide-eyed look with chris across the table. sure, you and luke used to go for picnics occasionally, but that was before he’d gotten unfairly attractive overnight and you’d developed the most annoying crush on him. “yeah, sure. it’s a date.”
if you could have jumped into tartarus you would have.
what the fuck. why would you say that?
chris was staring at you in shock.
your mouth was dry.
and luke was smiling like nothing was wrong. were his cheeks red? or was that your imagination? “yup! it’s a date.”
when he got up from the table to leave after dinner, he kissed your cheek. this wasn’t too far out of the ordinary, per se—it happened occasionally—but it sent a rush of adrenaline shooting down your spine and set your cheeks aflame.
chris’ eyebrows were raised. “what was that?”
“i have no idea,” you breathed.
“do you think he knows?”
your voice was even softer as you shook your head. “dude. i have no idea.”
valentine’s day couldn’t come soon enough.
you could hardly think of anything else. zoning out in the fields, losing focus while sparring, getting distracted by luke’s shoulder muscles while he was drawing back his bow, sending your arrow flying off to the side.
he laughed at you with everyone else, coming over to stand by your side. “you good there? need any help?”
you shook your head, your quaking fingers drawing the string back once more, pulling it taut. archery wasn’t your best skill, but you weren’t terrible at it.
you could feel his eyes on you, judging your form, analysing your aim. it put you off.
your arrow barely hit the target.
luke winced. “that was… better.”
you sighed and lowered the bow. “you’re distracting me!”
he laughed. “i’m distracting you?”
“yes!” you huffed, frowning at him. his eyes were lit up with amusement. “you are.”
“well, then i’m very sorry.” he raised his hands and took a step back, dipping his head too. “as you were, milady.”
you rolled your eyes with a smile and drew your arrow back, aiming and firing, but it still didn’t do well. in fact, every arrow that you shot pierced outside of the black rings. you were starting to think there was either something wrong with the bow or that you’d been cursed by one of the apollo kids, when someone’s hand lowered your elbow.
you looked over to see luke. he wasn’t watching your face. he was guiding your elbow down so it was more level with your arrow’s line and gently pulling your shoulders back so they were more even.
“pull back a bit more,” he coached quietly.
“i know what i’m doing,” you protested.
“i know, but today you look like you need a reminder. do you want my help? or do you wanna keep missing?” he finally looked you in the eye. he was sincere, you realised.
you sighed and draw the arrow back a little more.
he nodded happily and continued guiding your stance until you were perfect, his hands hot on your body and his breath on the back of your neck. he stayed behind you as you lowered the arrow and took a few deep breaths.
you were still watching him over your shoulder. his lips quirked as he reached out and gently turned your face away to look at the target. his hand was calloused and rough, but the tough was soft. you could barely breathe.
“focus,” he said softly. “eyes on the prize.”
you’re the only prize i want, was all you could think, but you didn’t say anything. you drew the arrow back, your fingers brushing against the corner of your lips. you felt better—more powerful, more confident—in this stance. and maybe luke’s presence behind you was helping with that too. you could feel the slight ghost of his hand on your waist. it kept you grounded. it stopped you from floating away.
your arrow pierced just beside the bullseye.
luke’s hand tightened on your waist, squeezing proudly. “that’s my girl.”
your heart fluttered as you smiled. “thanks, luke.”
he patted your lower back as he stepped away. “that’s what i’m here for. go kill it.”
then he was gone, and there was a fiery pit in your stomach that grew with each passing day that told you that—oh shit—you were in fully love with luke castellan.
february fourteenth arrived in a flurry of pinks, reds and whites. hearts adorned the camp, courtesy of the aphrodite cabin, and you and the demeter cabin had been tasked with growing what felt like hundreds of red roses. personally, you didn’t understand the hype surrounding red roses. after all, the lavender ones were the prettiest. they even meant love at first sight—far better than plain old love.
but with all the love in the air and the aphrodite campers swooning left and right, luke was sure to figure out his mistake and call off the picnic. it made you feel sick with anxiety, and your hands shook as you tended to the roses.
“y/n, hey!” luke’s voice came right next to you.
you flinched and the rose bush sprouted ten feet in the air with new flowers springing into existence left and right.
“whoa…” he said, looking up at it in shock. “i don’t think we need that many.”
“i don’t think anyone needs that many.” you muttered and took a deep breath, bringing the bush back down to size. “what are you doing here, luke?” your heart was in your throat. he didn’t look upset, but he’d always been good at hiding his emotions. was he about to tell you that he didn’t want to meet up later? or that he hated you for tricking him? thoughts started spinning like tops in your mind as you sunk into worse scenario after worse scenario.
“i just wanted to make sure we were still on for this afternoon? and to let you know to meet me by the lake.” were you imagining things, or did he look almost… nervous? his cheeks were red and he wasn’t meeting your eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. was he? really?
you nodded. “oh, uh, yeah. we’re still on. i’ll meet you…?”
“at two?”
“at two.” you smiled. he smiled back and you ignored the flutter in your chest. a strand of hair blew in front of your face.
his hand twitched by his side, like he wanted to push it back, but he just nodded. “okay. see you later.”
“later,” you nodded as he walked away. “can’t wait!” you called after him. he shot a grin over his shoulder, and once he was gone, you buried your face in the rose bush with an exasperated groan.
at 1:45, you still didn’t know what to wear.
your friend becky had dragged you into the aphrodite cabin and was shoving various outfits into your arms to try on, since you didn’t have many nice outfits of your own, but nothing was right.
even though you were the same size as her, nothing seemed to fit you as well as it did her—some aphrodite’s daughter bullshit, you guessed.
she sat down on her bunk next to you and sighed. “i hate to say it, but… we’re out of options.”
you groaned and flopped backwards, covering your face.
she swatted your hands away. “you’ll smudge your makeup!” she then sat back and sighed. “honestly, hun, you might just have to go naked.”
“i’m sure he’d love that!” one of her brothers called from across the room.
you threw a pillow at him, but it dropped halfway there.
then becky froze with a gasp. “oh, my gods.”
you sat up. “what?”
“wait here.” she got up and dashed away, peering into the depths of her wardrobe.
you watched absently, kind of worried she’d pull out some sexy lingerie, as she felt around at the very back, in the corner. then her face lit up. she pulled out a dress. it was white and floaty, with tiny pale pink flowers on it and the most flattering neckline you’d ever seen. she held it out to you and then dragged you to the designated changing area beside her bunk.
you changed slowly, not wanting to rip the delicate material, then looked at yourself in the mirror.
holy shit.
becky stuck her head around the corner and gasped. “perfect! ugh, i feel like a proud mother.”
you laughed, smoothing the floaty fabric over your thighs. it was kind of staticky. “yeah, thanks, mom.”
she grabbed your arm and dragged you out, showing you off. “siblings! my magnum opus.”
as whistles and cheers came from the few people in the cabin, you smiled.
“he’ll love it,” becky whispered. “you look hot.”
“it’s not even a date,” you protested. “it’s just a hang out.”
“sweet cheeks, its a picnic on valentine’s day.” she tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder. “it’s a date. now go. you’re gonna be late.”
you slipped on your white sandals and the light green jacket you always wore, let silena slip a white headband into your hair, then stepped out the door.
it wasn’t a cold day, exactly, but you were grateful for the jacket.
you rushed down the lake and got there two minutes late.
luke was no where to be found.
great, you thought. he was messing with me the whole time.
just as you were considering leaving, you heard footsteps running up to you.
“y/n! i’m so sorry, i could figure out—oh, wow...” luke stopped in his tracks as you turned around. his eyes were wide and his cheeks were red as he looked you up and down. he cleared his throat. “i didn’t know what to wear.”
he’d settled on a navy blue crew neck sweater and black jeans. his hair was messy, like he’d been running his hands through it, and he looked good. really good.
shit. that would make things more difficult.
“it’s okay,” you smiled. “neither could i.”
“well, you look… you look amazing.” his voice was soft, almost reverent.
gods, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop blushing. this was torture. “thanks,” you said though, pretending your heart wasn’t climbing up your throat and threatening to jump right into his hands—like suicide. “should we—“
“oh! yeah.” he nodded and stepped forward, placing a hand on your back (just low enough that it made your heart stutter, but high enough that it was innocent) and leading you towards the strawberry fields. “this way, milady.”
your heart was sinking a little as the fields came into view. everyone went to the strawberry fields. there were at least seven couples there already. it was the standard date spot. you had to remind yourself this wasn’t a date.
but he led you past the fields and into the forest.
great, so he’ll just murder me instead, you thought bitterly. it was like you were searching for a reason that it wasn’t a date now. at least i won’t have to deal with the embarrassment of everyone seeing.
you snapped out of your thoughts as his hand gently slipped into yours and you nearly fell over. he looked back at you, amused. you shot him a thumbs up as he set down a familiar path.
you knew where you were going.
there was a clearing in the woods where you went. it was you own personal secret garden, hidden deep in the forest behind a thick hedge that you’d grown yourself. it had taken weeks to get it thick enough to keep your space safe, and weeks again to regain enough strength to add any other plants to it. in the last year though, you’d been going there often, coaxing a few new plants to grow. you’d learned that forcing growth was hard and near impossible, but encouraging growth was easy.
you’d shown luke the garden one day a few months ago, just before you developed that pesky crush.
he pulled you gently in front of him to enter the garden first, through a magically shifting gap in the hedge, so that he could enter too, and stepped aside to pick up a hefty bag hidden just off the path.
you stepped through the hedge, your hand still linked with luke’s, and into your garden. it was the same as last time you were there, around a week ago; filled with flowers and bees, with a patch of clear grass in the middle, linked to the hedge by four paths, running north to south and east to west. some of the flowers growing were out of season, but as a daughter of persephone, you had a certain level of influence over things like that. bees buzzed lazily around your head as you entered, happy to see you again. everything seemed to get happier, healthier and brighter the second you stepped into the garden. it was your favourite thing and your favourite place.
you looked back at luke to see him smiling at you. “you know me too well.”
“i knew you wouldn’t like to have everyone around,” he shrugged. “and i wanted to see this place again. it’s better than last time i was here.” he looked around in wonder.
“well, last time you were here, i’d just gotten over the flu, so i was still pretty weak. all of my hydrangeas wilted.” you pouted and crossed the garden to your hydrangea bush, blooming in all ranges of colours. soil acidity and pH didn’t matter if you were the daughter of persephone.
luke laid down a plaid picnic blanket as you murmured a few words to some of your weaker looking plants, breathing life back into them. you could feel his eyes on you as he sat and waited, but you didn’t feel rushed or observed. more than anything, you felt admired.
finally, you sat next to him. he’d set out some food and water bottles for the two of you. he was prepared. that was one thing about luke castellan: he was prepared, always two steps ahead. which is why this didn’t make sense.
as you started eating, you found yourself staring at a lavender rose bush. love at first sight, you mused. if only.
you’d fallen for luke after a whole year of friendship. that made it worse. you’d loved him already, platonically, then, without warning, those feeling shifted. the way you looked at him changed in a matter of moments. when he’d gotten cherries on his plate for dessert after you were told you couldn’t have more, then he’d given them all to you, claiming he didn’t like them (even though you knew he did), you fell stupidly, irrevocably, in love. but the way he looked at you never changed: always soft, always kind and always the same.
you were drawn to look at him. you always were. the sharp lines and soft curves of his face. those dark eyes that made your heart flutter never wavered as they met yours. never shifted, never darkened, never clouded with anger. never. they were as constant as time, as reliable as the tide, as predictable as the full moon coming around again.
and he was looking at you now. “what?” he asked.
you blinked and looked away, watching as two bees clumsily bumped into each other and went on their way. “nothing.” would that be you and luke? two bees bumping into each other briefly, then going on with their lives? unlikely to cross paths again? you couldn’t let that happen.
“you know it’s valentine’s, right?” you asked before you could stop yourself.
luke lowered his apple, resting his hand on his knee. his forehead was creased in a confused frown. “yeah, why?”
“well… then why… why are we hanging out today? i mean, this isn’t a date.” you paused. “is it?”
his eyes widened. “wait, you don’t think—“
“it’s fine, luke.” you shrugged, pretending your heart wasn’t crumbling. “it’s my fault. i shouldn’t have brought up valentines. it was a silly joke, and—“
“a joke?” he frowned again. “this isn’t a joke.”
you looked at him. he looked earnest. “what?”
“it’s not a joke. why would i joke about going on a date with you?” he swallowed tightly and put his apple down. “did you… did you just think it was a joke?”
“no! well, yes. but i didn’t want it to be.” you exclaimed. “did… you want it to be?”
“no!” he exclaimed, turning to face you. “why would i want that? i thought we’ve been dating for three weeks now!”
“you, what?”
he took a deep breath. “you’re telling me that i’ve been assuming we’re dating for three weeks, and you’ve been assuming i’ve been joking for three weeks, because we’re both a little bit fucking stupid and can’t communicate our feelings properly?”
you stared at him, wiping your sweaty palms on your dress. the static crackled like the tension in the air. “i guess so.”
“huh.” he said, turning back to face the flowers. he was silent for a moment and you almost thought he’d leave, but then he started laughing.
“stop laughing,” you protested, pushing him lightly, your cheeks flaming hot. “stop it.”
he didn’t.
soon, you weren’t able to stop yourself from giggling, then you were both laughing uncontrollably. your stomach hurt and you had to lean on each other to avoid falling over. your faces were close—too close. your laughter died as you felt his breath on your face. his fingers brushed your hair behind your ear. his breath hitched as he did, like he’d been waiting to do that for months.
“i’ve liked you for months,” you whispered.
“i’ve liked you since the moment we met,” he cupped your face in his hand, his other one resting on your knee.
you could see the lavender roses behind him. love at first sight.
the two bees that had bumped into each other settled on the same flower.
fucking hell.
you kissed him before you could talk yourself out of it.
the kiss wasn’t like fireworks. it was more like the first flowers of spring: fresh, exciting and pure. his lips were soft. yours were probably rougher than his from your long hours in the fields. you figured he didn’t care, because he kissed you like you were the only air he needed to breath for the rest of his life. you could feel flowers blooming around the picnic blanket—daisies and dandelions in the grass. the plants in the gardens were going wild. he was like a drug; some kind of amplifier for your powers and your heart rate and gods, you never wanted to let him go. his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer against him. your hand rose to his cheek and static electricity jumped from your skin to his.
he pulled away with a gasp, his hand on his cheek. then he laughed, and kissed you again.
and again.
and again.
and again.
and you were infinitely glad for the privacy of your own secret garden.
#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x you#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo#pjo tv show#pjo x reader#charlie bushnell
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we know that the criminal minds writers looooved hurting spencer but i would love to see bau!reader (bombshell!reader if you think it would fit) hurt and spencer losing his mind a little (ofc everything would end up being okay because we love fluff in this house 💗)! thank youuu <333
ty for requesting! ♡ fem, 1k
“Spencer, are you coming in?”
The boy in question winces, the cellophane wrapped stems in his hand strangled by an anxious grip. Your voice is hoarse, quieter than usual, though that could be attributed to the thick wooden door between you both. He takes the door handle in his hand, readjusts his fingers, can't quite get himself to go in.
“Spence,” you say, missing your usual cheer. “Please come in.”
He opens the door slowly. It weighs a hundred pounds, each inch heavier than the last.
You're propped up on the movable bed with a dinner table over your legs. Someone's brought you contraband, it seems, expensive soup from the fancy restaurant you like just outside of work. Next to it lies your phone, your chapstick, and a prescription bottle. The orange of it is too glaring to look at for long.
“Nice to see you finally, heart-throb,” you say, sitting back, rolling your shoulders as you smile. “Where've you been?”
Sapped by terror in the waiting room, mostly. “Sorry,” he says, offering no explanation. You deserve one, but he can't get the words out. “How are you feeling?”
“Shot at.”
“Is it bad?”
Your eyes soften. “No. Wanna see it?”
He does in an awful way. To alleviate his panic, sure, but to know what it did. To see what his stupidity resulted in. The unforgivable in stark scarring.
You lift your shirt and shift your soft bralette up a touch to show him the wound and all its grim stitches. “It almost missed me. Guess I'm not as lucky as I think.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Not right now. They told me not to wear wire bras for a while, so you win some, you lose some.” You let your shirt fall back into place. He can see the indecision in your eyes. Not one for hiding like he wants to, you address the elephant in the room. “Now you've seen it's not so bad, can you look at me again?”
“I'm looking at you.”
“You know what I mean.”
The thing is, Spencer doesn't, not really. Half the time you act like you're sharing a secret with him but he doesn't have a clue what you're talking about, and the intimacy is lost, and it's his fault. He's never been good or smooth or charismatic, he's never deserved your attention, and it's his fault you're here, hurting, his fault you'd been prone on the ground, his fault Morgan had to hold your side closed, his fault you almost died.
“Spencer,” you murmur, “you know I don't blame you.”
Of course he knows that.
“You should,” he says tightly. He doesn't mean to get angry.
“Well, I don't. So give me my flowers and sit down.”
He bites the inside of his cheek. He's mad, but he gives you the flowers without any roughness, and you take them with a similarly thin thank you.
Your reunion isn't going how either of you wants it to, it seems.
Spencer sits in the chair next to your bed as you pick between the petals, admiring their colours, their softness. For a moment you're peaceful, but you close your eyes and press your nose gently to a small bud, and you ask, “Why are you acting like this?” Heartbroken.
He could explain it in halves. You passed out in the back of the ambulance. Your surgery had unexpected complications. Hotch was so angry, and he still wasn't as mad at Spencer as Spencer was at himself.
Seeing you hurt because of his mistake isn't a feeling he thinks he'll survive a second time.
“I don't get why you like me,” Spencer admits. “Not before, and especially not now. You should be pissed. This,” —he gestures to you quickly— “is my fault.”
“It's not your fault, Spence.”
“What would you call it?”
You put your flowers down and stare at your lap. He's pushed you too far. Nice, he thinks to himself scathingly, to upset you in your sick bed, that's exactly what he should be doing to make it up to. Great going, Spencer.
“Will you hold my hand?” you ask quietly.
He hesitates, his heart skipping a beat like a missed step down the stairs.
“Please? I just… this has been a lot. I'm not telling you to make you feel guilty, I swear, but it's been a lot. And so many times I wished someone was here. I wished you were here.” You turn your head away from him. “I thought you were mad at me. I'm still worried.”
Spencer stands up. He feels every stretch of muscle as he does it. You raise your eyes to his, holding out your hands; you know him better than anyone else, he thinks. He overcompensates every time.
“I'm sorry,” he says, crossing his arms behind your shoulders carefully.
“I told you it's not your fault.”
“For not being here to hold your hand.”
Your hand curls in the front of his shirt.
“M'not mad. Not even slightly. I mean, not at you…” He rubs your back with his thumb. “Why would I be mad at you?”
“What was I supposed to think?”
He presses his nose to your temple, eyes squeezed close in regret. “...You're right.”
This is what he should've done the moment you woke up. Instead, he let his mind focus on detail, what flowers demarcates remorse, or if cellophane wrapping would be an imposition. Anything to forget how your hands shook as the adrenaline wore off.
They're steady now as they wrap around his sides to rest at the small of his back.
“I’m sorry,” he says again, lips touching to your skin with each syllable, like fractions of kisses.
“I missed you, handsome. Please– don't do that again.”
He rubs your back. “I won't,” he promises. “I'll be here as long as you want me to be.”
“Forever, then.”
For once, your flirting doesn't make him blush.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
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this comes from @serasvictoria with this ask the prompt words were: pillow, caught, crush
18+ no minors, angst leading to smut, vulgar, eddie talks about his dick and steve’s 😌
2.1k // eddie x fem reader
your ex hears you’ve moved on; is he ready to let you go?
send me a prompt!
“Don’t be a dumbass.”
Ringed hands were folded together, glistening from the makeshift dramatic lighting in Gareth’s basement.
In the summer, Hellfire moved locations from one member's place to another, rotating every Friday to a different place. A new aroma to tickle one’s nostrils upon entering whichever home was the designated spot for the evening, to host Hawkins very own hell bound teens.
Some homes were kept nicer than others, while Eddie’s trailer smelled like stale cigarettes and bong water, the Sinclair’s living room was pristine with updated furniture, smelling of warm vanilla and the smell of dinner still lingering in the air.
Gareth takes another gulp of Mountain Dew, wiping the lime colored beverage from his lips. Belching on the spot.
“Why would I lie about that?”
Eddie shifts in the folding chair leaning forward— the chain from his waist clinking on the metal, “whatever man, don’t fuck with me.”
Gareth grins, hands up in surrender, “listen dude, I’m just telling you what we saw, no need to shoot the messenger.”
What Gareth and Jeff had seen weighed heavy on their minds. They had even contemplated on keeping it secret. The two couldn’t decide if Eddie should know or if it would hurt him— in the end Gareth opened his big mouth and blurted it out, in the most repugnant way imaginable.
The painted tin container used to hold dice was crushed under the weight of Eddie’s fist as he hammered it onto the table.
Jeff shook his head, sucking in a breath between his braced teeth, looking away from the soon to be manic Munson.
Eddie’s temper ran hot when it came to one thing—and one thing only, you.
Raking his fingers through his scalp, he kicks the back of his chair upon standing, ragged breaths in and out, eyes to the ceiling. You still had a hold on him, it had been months—and the only one who seemed to not be able to move on was him.
He chuckled, pinching the inner corner of his eyes and shaking his head, “one of you take over as DM, I gotta go.”
Bounding up the stairs before he could hear any bitching from his two longest standing friends, the carpeted steps squished under his quickened boot steps. Stealing a cookie from an iridescent colored decorative plate on the kitchen counter, Eddie stomped out the front door and to the paved driveway, starting his van with a flick of his wrist, pedal to the floor as he reversed onto the street, running over flower beds in his wake.
—
The daffodil warmth of the sun was high in the sky, a small stitch of wind blew the blades of grass gently, feathering the soft pages of your book every so often.
It was a perfect summer day as you laid out on your driveway, ass parked in a tiny kiddie pool from your youth, blue in color, the flimsy plastic circle was filled with cool water straight from the hose.
A few shots of spiced whiskey danced on your tongue and tangoed with the carbonated bubbles of the mixed in Coke, fizzing with each slurp from your straw, you don’t have a care in the world.
Admiring your freshly painted nails in the pastel bubble gum shade he had picked out— it was a stark contrast to the ruby reds you had been accustomed to— but those days were long gone, and things were finally starting to look up for you.
It had been four months since Eddie broke things off, claiming he needed ‘space to find himself’ and although you spent a majority of that time wallowing in ice cream containers and mopping up tears when you saw a brown set of curls, or heard the jingle of a chain wallet— you moved on.
He wasn’t from Hawkins. Didn’t know of Eddie at all, and you preferred to keep it that way. You were never ashamed of the boy you loved for so many years, the only embarrassment you felt was the night he ended things like someone would end a call after placing an order for pizza.
Like it meant nothing to him, like you meant nothing to him. But that was then, and you were happier now.
So when you looked up to see Gareth’s wide eyes staring in shock was not at all how you imagined your date would go. You had been caught red handed by his best friends, and you knew it was only a matter of time before he found out.
Toes twirling in the water you bobbed your head along to the music playing on the portable radio, sunglasses perched on your nose— not a single care in the world.
Until the music turned to something more familiar.. the screech of guitars and aggressive tempos, you could practically feel the warmth leave your skin as the dark cloud of Eddie’s van cast its shadow on your skin, parked in your driveway like he belonged here.
By the way he tore around the corner and through the stop sign— you knew he was pissed. The clunk of his rings scraped against the paint as he reached through the window to open the door—still broken.
“I don’t smoke anymore Munson, but if you’re offering freeb—”
“Who is he?” he interjected, in no mood for your joking tone.
Sucking your drink until the ice clinks together at the bottom—whiskey making you ballsier than you ever had been—you finally answer, “Who is who?”
He crosses his arms, trying to stay calm, although all he wanted to do was scream, “the guy, cmon princess, don't play dumb with me.”
Staring at him you can’t believe the audacity of the boy standing in front of you, coming here, demanding to know what’s going on in your life when he’s the one who practically skipped on his way out of it.
instead of stomping around and causing you a scene, you simply ignore him, “you’re in the way.”
“Huh?”
Pointing with a lazy finger to the sky you watch as his eyes follow, “don’t tell me you came here to bitch me out, you’re wasting your time.”
He leans in over your body so close that you can see the chocolate color of his eyes, eyes that you'd lose count of the times you’d stare into them.
“I’m not leaving until you tell me who he is.”
“Okay.” You say nonchalantly, unbothered.
“Okay?”
“Yeah go ahead, stay. ‘s long as you want,” you push yourself up from the pool, standing in a string bikini that matched your nails, “I’ll be the bigger person here, and I’ll leave.”
Water dripped down your thighs as you walked to the front porch and pushed the door open, ready to slam it shut and twist the lock upon entry—but a dark boot prevents your dismissal.
Rolling your eyes you try to kick his knee to get him to move but he wouldn’t budge, and you huff in annoyance.
“Pretty sure this is harassment.”
You ignore the way he walks in your house like he knew his way around, even though he did, your house was a second home to him for years.
Shutting the door with dramatic flair, Eddie leans into your space, inches from your nose, “just answer my question sweetheart— and I’ll be on my happy little way.”
“You’re deranged if you think I’m telling you anything.”
He cocks his head and laughs like a jerk, mocking you.
“Thata more than likely, but I know better than anyone,” his eyes undress you, fingernails skating across your thighs, “how much you like it.”
You turn and shout over your shoulder, “go home Eddie— I’m not in the mood for this!”
He barrels around you, demanding your attention.
“Aww you’re not in the mood?” his voice dipped to a gravelly bite of anger as he put his hand over his heart, “my sincerest apologies to your feelings baby…but I somehow don’t give a fuck about your little feelings when I find out from Gareth that you were sucking some guy’s dick in the Starcourt parking lot.”
Your face heats in embarrassment and Eddie’s eyes are glassy, coated with pain. You never wanted to hurt him, never wanted him to look at you the way he is right now.
“Ed—”
He smirks.
“I think it’s cute…honestly, still doing the same shit you did with me…” he moves to brush your cheek with his thumb, “I’m flattered.”
“Get out,” you bite back, making to shove him to the door but you’re no match for him.
“D’dya swallow for him like you did for me?”
“Get..”
“He bigger than me?”
“…out!” your shoves are fruitless against his broad shoulders.
“Last I checked Harrington was the only one who had me beat… unless you’re fucking him too.”
The slap startled him, but he knew he deserved it. The torment in your eyes was fueled by his words and he fucking hated himself for making you feel that way.
He was hurting too, body shaking with rage and swallowing tears the whole drive here. But, when your tears fell on the apples of your cheeks— all his pain turned to gloom.
“I’m sorry— I— That was a dick thing to say.”
“Do you think getting over you was easy for me?”
“I don’t know.”
“It wasn’t.. and truthfully I don’t think I am yet, but what fucking choice did I have?!”
“Babe—.”
“I loved you, Eddie… I still fucking love you. Why isn’t that—”
His large hands clutch your cheeks, warm lips press into yours with a magnetic force you had forgotten about. Eddie’s tongue tasted like the tobacco spice of a camel, and a subtle hint of mint, and you devoured it like you were starved.
He whispers and groans how he was so stupid, a real dumb mother fucker, and that he never should have ended it.
Accepting his apology—for now—you pull him towards the couch, heels rocking on the carpet until they hit firm on the plush sectional, still lip locked with the man you swore, that you hated to your friends but your pillow heard a different plea ever since he broke your heart.
His arms wrap around your waist, fingers daintily pulling the string from your bikini bottoms until the soft fabric hits the floor. His Hellfire shirt joins them before you both collapse into one another on the cushions, Eddie’s hair draped into your face hiding you both away from consequences and the reality of bad decisions.
He breaks away from your lips to lick up the slope of your neck, and your head angles back in ecstasy. His body temperature was like fire against your skin, curling your legs around his back you couldn’t get enough of him.
“So fuckin’ beautiful,” Eddie grooaned, grinding into your naked cunt, his tongue kitten licking around your neck, working his signature hickey into your skin, “my angel.”
You moan feather light in his ear, fingers twisted into his curls. His hand works down your front, sliding between your slick folds with skills you swore only he possessed.
He played your body like a guitar, knew how to tune you up, the proper way to hold you. A true expert of his craft— your pretty little noises would harmonize from the simple touch of his fingers, your sweet cunt clinching onto him like vice.
“Missed that sound,” he chuckled, his bangs pushed up from the angle on your neck as you came undone, “so pretty like this… drunk on how I’m making you feel.”
Your eyes were pinched shut, chest heaving from the breath shattering orgasm you haven’t had since you got dumped by him. Nobody came close to the way Eddie could do it.
Kissing him square on the mouth, you twist your tongue with his, massaging them together as if a flame could spark from the pink wet muscles.
Intimacy with Eddie felt like home, like a warm blanket straight from the dryer when you were freezing. A cup of soup to soothe an itchy throat.
He melted into you, collecting each gasp you choked out with a kiss from his lips, doing a poor job of hiding the smirk on his face when your breath was stolen from his pistoning hips.
New— but entirely the same, your bodies fell back into each other like no time had passed and he made up for what was lost, twice. Each time your cries rang out like music to his ears— his favorite song.
You slept now, adjusting to his arm wrapped around you, a kiss to your forehead, and a new plea in your pillowcase— for Eddie to stay, forever.
#eddie munson#eddie x fem!reader#eddie x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst#eddie drabble#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson blurb
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Hunger
Joel Miller x Reader
Rating: EXPLICIT 18+
Word count: 2.8k
Summary: on a patrol near Jackson with Joel, you run out of food and have to make do with whatever you can find. Eating the wrong thing makes you both feel… different.
A/N: Here’s another one shot unrelated to Temptation :) I really wanted to write a sex pollen thing with Joel and here it is!!
Warnings: sex pollen/sex poison, smut, dub-con based on the nature of the sex pollen/poison trope, talk about being hungry/eating, unprotected p in v (don’t do this), masturbation, rough sex, angry fucking, being mean to each other, Joel calls you a slut, choking, hair pulling, quick mention of blood/taste of blood, nipple play, spanking with object, anal play, creampie.
Joel Miller Masterlist
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“I’m fucking starving.” You sigh, walking alongside Joel in the forest.
You were on day two of a three day patrol route, tonight you’d stay in some cabin in the middle of nowhere. Tomorrow you’d return to Jackson.
“Drink some water. It’ll hold ya over.” Joel sighs back at you. “Or pick some mushrooms.”
You scoff at him. “Very funny.”
“I thought so.” He chuckles quietly.
You roll your eyes, trudging through the humid spring weather. “Are there any edible flowers out here? Shit, I’d eat tree bark at this point.”
Joel shakes his head. “Don’t know much about the plants out here.”
You frown. Until…
“Oh my god.” You gasp and run to a bush you spotted about 10 yards away.
Joel calls after you, using your name to try and get your attention. But it doesn’t work, you were laser focused.
On a tall bush, almost as tall as you, there were berries. Ones that looked… like a raspberry, or a blackberry, but they were orange. You weren’t a hundred percent sure, but, you feel like you remember maybe eating these before.
“Joel!” You wave him over and he walks faster to get to you.
“What?” He sighs, putting a hand on his hip.
“These are edible.” You smile at him, then look at the bush, then back at Joel. “I think.”
He rolls his eyes and begins to walk past you.
“Joel, I know you’re just as hungry as I am. And I swear I remember eating berries just like this before. They should be fine.” You reasoned with him.
He turns back to face you. “Fine. Eat a couple.” He shrugs.
You gulp and stare at the berries for a few seconds before plucking a few and putting them in your mouth. You start to chew and soon scrunch your nose. They’re tart. Not quite sour, but very tart. You couldn’t give a shit at this point.
“They’re good.” You smile at Joel and pull more berries from the bush.
He walks over and picks a berry, bringing it up to his nose to smell it before finally putting it in his mouth. He starts to chew. “These are not good.”
“Quit complaining. It’s food. If those goddamn squirrels hadn’t gotten into your pack that you just left lying around for an hour…”
“You’re the one who fell asleep while you were s’posed to be watchin’ our shit, I was hunting.” He sneers at you.
“That’s because you talk in your sleep and I barely got two hours last night!” You scoff at him.
“Swear to god, if I die by some fuckin’ berries after all the shit I-“
“You’re not gonna die, Joel. Don’t be such a pussy.” You laugh and keep plucking berries and putting them into your mouth.
He sighs and breaks off a small branch, picking a couple more berries and eating them. “Reminds me of pineapple… except, not good.”
You shake your head and keep eating, ignoring his complaining for the next ten minutes while you both gorge yourself on the fruit.
“Should be getting to that safe house in the next hour.” Joel nods at you as you both continue walking, bellies full and satisfied.
A half hour passes and you feel like your skin is too hot. Your clothes are too hot. It was humid, but… it was only maybe 60° out. You shouldn’t be sweating like this.
Joel was on the same page, having taken his light jacket off only ten minutes into continuing your walk to the cabin.
“Joel…” you speak cautiously.
“I don’t feel good either.” He sighs.
“What should we-“ you start.
“Just gotta let the body process it. Or reject it. Whichever comes first.”
You both let out long sighs and keep walking.
15 more minutes and there’s a dull ache in the pit of your stomach. Lower than that, actually. It feels like where your uterus is.
You notice that Joel is breathing heavy, sounding more and more labored.
“Down… uh,” Joel glances at you and then stares for a second. “Down this trail here.” He points to a spot a few yards up where the main road diverts to a slim trail, barely noticeable if you hadn’t been looking for it. It was overgrown.
You nod at him, feeling warmth bloom in your chest and face. You follow him down the trail for a couple minutes when you come across a large fallen tree.
Joel climbs over it easily with his long legs. You? Not so much.
You struggle for a moment as you try and get your footing on a branch start on the side of the log, but you can’t.
“Jesus, give me a fucking hand, will you?” You snap at Joel.
He rolls his eyes and reaches out a hand to help you over the tree.
The second you grab his hand, you feel a jolt of electricity run up your arm and straight to your core. You couldn’t pinpoint what was going on. You felt irritable… angry… but all you could think about after getting over that log, was how Joel’s skin felt against yours.
You approached the cabin just a couple minutes later. You both walk inside and set down your bags before Joel disappears into the bathroom.
You hear the faucet start to run. You’d forgotten this place was connected to water… just didn’t have a working water heater.
You sat down in a recliner in the living room and involuntarily moaned when a spring under the thin recliner padding pressed against your heat through your jeans.
“Fuck.” You breathe.
You wait only ten to fifteen seconds before you figure Joel is gonna be awhile and you stick your hand down your pants. You start rubbing your clit furiously, hoping for some fucking relief before Joel comes back.
You’d go upstairs to the loft style bedroom so at least there would be a delay in Joel catching you like this, but you think rubbing your thighs together while going up stairs would make you cum anyways.
“Fuck it.” You whisper to yourself, dipping two fingers into your cunt. This is probably the wettest you’ve ever been.
In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if you’d soaked through both your panties and your jeans by now.
You hear a low grunt come from the bathroom over the sound of the faucet and it only spurs you on. Was it because you were horny out of your mind, or did that sound sexual?
A moment later, the faucet turns off and you quickly pull your hand out of your pants and wipe the wetness on the side of the recliner. Just in time too, as Joel walks out of the bathroom a second later.
He spots you on the recliner, leaned back, eyes hooded, legs spread, and something in his face changes.
He looks furious, but… helpless.
You bring your bottom lip between your teeth, the sensation making your whole body tingle. You look Joel up and down, feeling more wetness pool between your legs.
God, you normally didn’t get along great with him, but… you’d kill a hundred men just to have his cock inside you right now.
“Something’s wrong.” Are the first words said in that moment. Spoken by Joel.
“No shit, Sherlock.” You breathe hard, standing up.
“Don’t you fuckin’ mouth off to me.” Joel spits, stepping closer and pointing a finger at you.
You push his finger out of your face, another jolt of electricity moving through you at the skin contact. “What are you gonna do about it, old man?” You seeth.
Joel then grabs you by the throat, pushing you against the nearest wall. You can’t help but whimper at the feeling, looking up at him through your lashes.
“Shut up.” He frowns.
“Make me.” You test him.
His grip on your throat tightens, his other hand moving up to grab the hair on the back of your head. He tilts your face up by pulling down on your hair and you squeeze your thighs together, moaning despite him choking you.
You reach down into your own pants again, needing just a little relief from the searing pain and pleasure coursing through your clit.
Joel whimpers at the sight of you, his face darting down to yours and crushing your lips together.
You growl into his mouth and bite his bottom lip, and then you taste blood. He grunts and pulls back, looking down at the tank top you were in, grabbing the front with both hands and ripping it from top to bottom. You shrug the ripped clothing off, reaching behind yourself to undo your bra as you look up at him.
His eyes are damn near black. Pupils blown as wide as you’ve ever seen. He’s panting and leans down to kiss you again, despite you having bit his lip too hard on the first one.
His hands drift up your hips and over your breasts, quickly stripping you of your bra. He leans down immediately, taking your right nipple into his mouth and biting just enough to get you to squeak out a moan.
“Joel-“ you cry out as his fingers tweak your left nipple.
“What?” He asks harshly.
“Fuck me, goddamnit. Don’t have time for this shit.” You snap back.
“Take your fucking clothes off.” He barks the order as he backs up and starts to unbutton his own shirt.
He watches you with dark eyes as you slip your boots off, then your jeans, then your mostly soaked panties.
By the time he’s got his shirt off, you’re completely naked, staring at the tent in his jeans. You reach down and start to fuck yourself with two of your fingers. Joel undoes his belt and rips it from its loops in one swift motion.
You stare at him with doe eyes as he folds the leather strip in half before grabbing your wrist and pulling your fingers out. He growls and grabs you by the shoulders, moving you to lean over the arm of the couch. Lightning fast, he undoes his zipper and pulls himself out. You don’t even have time to look back when a *crack* fills the room and your ass stings painfully.
“Did I tell you you could do that?” Joel smacks your ass with his belt again.
“I told you to fuck me, already!” You screamed at him, looking back.
“Careful what you wish for.” He growls and lines up, pushing into you in under a second.
“Fuck!” You clench around him involuntarily, hearing his belt buckle hit the ground. This gave you a little relief from having to experience even more pain than you already are; between the whips of the belt and the way Joel is stretching you out.
“You asked for it.” He grunts and starts with fast, rough thrusts.
“Yeah, I know.” You spit the words at him over your shoulder.
“Show me some goddamn respect.” His cock hits the sweet spot inside you as he speaks, making you whimper loudly.
One of his hands is gripping your hip, the other reaching around your front, under your arm, gripping your breast harshly. He was holding onto you for dear life and you couldn’t get enough of it.
You’re hissing through your teeth at almost every thrust as the sound of his hips slapping your ass fills the room.
Joel doesn’t let up, his hands in bruising grips on your body. The hand on your breast moved to the front of your throat, gripping it, slowly cutting off your blood supply. He pulls you up against his chest, the new angle of your hips helping him get deeper as he fucks up into you.
“More!” You shout at him, fingers tapping the back of his hand on your throat.
He tightens his grip on you, you’re starting to see spots when your cunt pulses around him and you squirt your release all over his cock. “Fuck!” You gasp, tears forming in your eyes when Joel finally loosens his grip on your neck and you gasp for air.
You sob a string of curses as your orgasm washes over you, but Joel doesn’t stop. His hips begin to stutter and you know he’s got to be close.
You reach down and fiddle with your clit, wanting to cum again already.
“You’re a freaky thing aren’t you?” Joel asked, replacing your fingers with his own. “Bet you’d let me do anything I wanted. Fuckin’ slut.”
You nod as tears roll down your cheeks.
“Gonna let me cum inside you?? Fill up this tight pussy?” He whispers against the shell of your ear.
“Y- yes!! Fuck, fucking do it!” You grind down against his cock and fingers and suddenly you’re both losing it.
Joel’s fingers and hips stutter as he pumps his load into you, your cunt milking him for all he’s got. He keeps moving until his hips and back start hurting.
His dick is still hard as a rock when he pulls out of you. And there was no end in sight for you, you think you could cum ten more times and not be satisfied. You didn’t know at this point.
Joel moves around you and sits on the couch, cock in hand. His wet strokes are music to your ears as you maneuver yourself into his lap, facing away from him, each of your legs on the outside of his.
You can feel your own slick and his cum mixing together and leaking down to your asshole as you lean back against Joel’s chest.
“Fuck me again.” You pant.
“Shut up.” He spreads his thighs to make yours even further away from each other, reaching around and looking over your shoulder as he pushes two fingers into you.
He collects the wetness and starts rubbing up and down your slit, his thumb repeatedly brushing over your bundle of nerves.
“I told you I don’t have t- time for this, Joel.” You cry as you start to grind up against his hand with each downward movement of it.
“And I told you to shut up.” He growls and bites your earlobe. He can feel you dripping on him and he grabs you by the waist and folds you forward, making you put your hands on the coffee table for balance and support.
He lines himself up and pushes his cock into you, his fingers still covered in your juices moving to the hole that he hasn’t filled yet.
“Oh-“ you breathe, stomach churning with pleasure. “Do it. Fuck, don’t tease me, Joel. I’ll fucking stab you in the leg, I don’t-“ You’re cut off when his middle finger slowly pushes into you, making you gasp.
He starts thrusting himself up into your pussy while his finger worked its way in and out of your tightest hole, your slick and Joel’s cum sufficiently lubing you up.
His finger moved faster as his hips bucked up against yours. You start to roll your hips in rhythm with his and you’re about to cum again.
Joel feels you clench around him and he knows you’re close. He starts fucking you especially hard, loving the way you were bouncing on his cock.
His finger pulls out of you and he grabs your hips with both hands for more force and then you’re screaming his name as you cum hard.
Close behind, Joel groans as he shoots his load into you again. His hands start to loosen on your hips, his dick starting to finally soften inside you. Your anger has faded, your stomach no longer burning with feral need.
Joel pulled you back against his chest again as he came to his senses. “Did I hurt you?” He spoke softly, cock flexing, still in your pussy.
You hum a sigh, tired. “No. I mean… yes. But it didn’t hurt in a way that I didn’t like.”
“Alright.” He wraps his arms around your waist, hands splaying out over your belly.
“This okay?” He asks after a moment, nose tracing circles in the soft spot behind your ear.
“Yeah… I-“ you take a breath. “I think I’ve been wanting to do that for awhile.”
Joel laughs quietly. “You ‘think’? Whaddya mean?”
You shake your head, smacking his arm lightly. “I just didn’t want to admit to myself that I had a crush on you. So I played up the sass a bit.”
“Ahh, okay.” He hums.
“Like you didn’t? You tease me all the fucking time, Joel.”
He nods, breath ghosting over your neck, causing goosebumps to raise there. “And I know you love it.”
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Tag list: @evyiione @chyannealaniz @cesspitoflove @supersingle
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#fanfic#fanfiction#smut#pedro pascal#imagine#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel x reader#joel x you#joel x y/n#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x plus size reader#sex pollen#joel tlou#joel the last of us#joel miller self insert#reader insert#plus size reader#smutty#pwp#tlou smut#the last of us smut#joel smut
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Flowers (LN4)
Summary: After the Silverstone Grand Prix, Y/n wants to do something nice for her successful boyfriend, but she quickly finds out her kind gesture means a lot more to him than what she expected.
Warnings: nada, just a little internalized gender stereotyping
Word Count: 736
Note: Something quick for Lando while I write an Oscar Piastri imagine and another for Lando 💗💗
It wasn’t something Y/n gave much thought to. They had just gotten back from the Silverstone Grand Prix and, while Lando took a shower, she ran out to get food at the store. Usually the two would go out to party and what not, but, after a long weekend emotionally and physically, they had decided on cooking in the AirBnb for a slow, quiet night. Nonetheless, whilst she gathered ingredients for the chicken pasta she planned on making, Y/n passed the wide variety of fresh smelling bouquets the store had. She hesitated for a moment, wondering for just a split second if he would like them, but, ultimately, understood that it was a sweet gesture, so why not?
After that, she picked up the big bouquet of orange tulips and white daisies, and gave no more thinking space to it. She just propped them up in the cart and went on with her day.
Getting back to the rental, she opened the front door and shimmied through as she tried to balance the groceries in her hands. As if on cue, Lando turned the corner, black t-shirt clinging to his torso and biceps as his gray sweatpants hung low on his hips.
His eyebrows shot up at her struggling, “Baby! Let me help!” He said quickly as he took the multiple bags in her arms, leaving the bouquet in her hands.
Lando’s eyes lingered on the flowers clenched in her fist, confusion on his face as he set the bags down on the counter, “Why did you get flowers? We’re leaving this place tomorrow?”
Y/n giggled at her boyfriend’s misconception, “No, love, they aren’t for the house. They’re for you!”
It was safe to say that Lando’s confusion deepened as he turned his body fully to her and leaned his hip against the granite, “What do you mean?”
She walked closer to him, meeting him at the counter before wrapping her arms around his middle, “Yes! For you! Because you did so good today. I’m so proud of you, Lan.”
With her arms hugging him and the bright orange flowers she was pushing into his chest, Lando was at a loss for words. Never had it crossed his mind that when his girlfriend walked in with flowers they would be for him, but, alas, here he was. He opened and closed his mouth as she smiled up at him before he began slowly taking the petals out of her grasp.
Exhaling a breath, Lando stared back into her eyes, “Thank you, darling.” He didn’t expect the intense wave of emotions that overtook him, but he began to tear up at the thoughtful gesture for the person he cherished the most.
Y/n’s thoughts about this being nothing more than just a nice thing to him were quickly crushed at the small tear that flew down his cheek. Her smile faltered as her thumb glided across the wet cheek, “What’s going on? Do you not like them?”
He shook his head aggressively, “No, no, I love them. I- I love you. It’s ju- It’s just I’ve never had anyone get me flowers before. That’s a girl thing.”
She quickly laughed at her boyfriend’s comments as she continued stroking the soft skin of his face, “No, baby, it isn’t a girl thing. It’s an everyone thing. Everyone should get flowers at one point in their life, it’s such a warm thing.”
“Yeah, I’m learning that.” Lando chuckled through his tears. His hand that wasn’t holding the flowers held her waist as he leaned into her. His head fit in the crook of her neck well as he squeezed her tight, not knowing how else to thank her for providing him with a luxury in life he hadn’t even known was just that, a luxury.
She ran her hands through his hair in an attempt to soothe his emotional state which seemed to work as he pulled back slightly to peck her lips, whispering, “Really, though, thank you, my love. I’ve genuinely never felt this seen before. Flowers with an ‘I’m so proud of you’ really makes it feel like you are.”
She kissed him again as he shoved his head into her neck once more, “Well, I am. I’m so so proud of the person you are, the person you are turning out to be, and everything in between.”
Yeah, that made him cry more.
#f1 imagine#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 x reader#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagines#lando norris x you#mclaren#oscar piastri fanfiction#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri imagines#oscar piastri#i think this one is cute#ive been wanting to do this idea for a long ass time
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so after comparing price/simon to tolerate it, I’ve been wondering what song to compare gaz/johnny to
may I present: Johnny and Gaz giving lover vibes
(also I am working on ending 2 for tolerate it!)
he’s obsessed with you. the first time he saw you, in some dingy little bar he couldn’t believe someone as beautiful as you would be in— he was hooked. hopelessly in love, already throwing back a shot and sauntering over.
you’re alone at the bar, and he thinks that’s a damn shame. tells you that in those words. you laugh, and he cracks a smile— and the conversation starts to flow.
has he known you twenty seconds, or twenty years? there’s a natural spark between the two of you, something that makes it feel as though you hadn’t just met.
he buys you a drink, and before you know it, the two of you are on the dance floor. a slow song is playing, and you smile as his hands find your waist. his grip is gentle, reassuring.
he spins you around and you laugh, throwing your head back as he nearly drops you. by the time the song ends, the two of you are flushed and laughing like newlyweds.
an older woman comes up to you and tells you that you two are the cutest couple she’d ever seen. you play into it, giggling and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek while he slings an arm around your shoulders.
needless to say, he goes home with you that night.
and when you wake up in the morning, he’s still there. standing in his boxers in your tiny apartment kitchen, cooking eggs and brewing coffee.
you swear you fall in love right then and there.
the two of you eat, and the conversation is easy. you almost don’t want him to leave— you have to fight the urge to ask him to stay.
you think it’s a little ridiculous— you don’t know him! but it feels like you do. and you think he feels the same way, because he taps his number into your phone and tells you to call him later to talk about a proper date.
you’re fucking done for.
the first date is perfect. he brings you flowers when he comes to pick you up, and you roll your eyes but can’t hide the blush that rushes to your cheeks.
you swear you’ve never met a man this nice. never gone on a date with someone so kind, so charming. sure, he’s a flirt— but it’s not distasteful. he’s a people person, that’s what he tells you. you believe him.
he pays for dinner, of course, even when you try to pay for your half. he walks you home afterwards, and gives you a kiss goodnight, and you feel like you’re living in a fucking movie.
all your friends think you’re crazy. they start to talk some sense into you— he’s just luring you in! just trying to get in your pants! he’s hiding something!
their words creep into your brain, and the next date you have with him, you’re quieter. more detached, more calculating. and fuck, if your friends weren’t completely wrong.
you go on date after date, and before you know it, you’ve been with him for a year. you’re moving into his flat, and although you know you’ll be home more often than he will, you don’t mind.
when he gets deployed for the first time during your relationship, the honeymoon phase starts to crack. you try to cope with the loneliness; with the boredom that his being away brings. you didn’t realize how much time you spent together until he left.
you call when you can— but it’s not often. he’s somewhere he can’t say, and the cell reception isn’t exactly spectacular. you send letters, and receive a few back, but communication is few and far between.
and then he surprises you one day by bursting through the door, nearly giving you a heart attack as you jumped off the couch.
you scold him as you jump into his arms, complaining “I thought you were a robber! I was prepared to kill you!”
and he just laughed and gave you a kiss.
your life together isn’t perfect. you have fights and disagreements. you refuse to let him meet your friends for the longest time because “they still think you’re playing the long game of deception.”
but you make up because you can never stay mad at each other for long. you finally get your friends to come around to the idea of him, and they instantly hit it off with him once you force them into the same room.
he wrangles his squad into meeting you, and they make sure to embarrass him. (they also love you, and when you excuse yourself to the bathroom, they tell him how happy they are for him.)
“so, you’re the one he never shuts up about, aye?”
he proposes after three years. it seems short to some, but you don’t care. you’ve loved him three summers now, and you sure as hell want all the rest of them, too.
so you get married and it’s nothing huge. an intimate ceremony with family and close friends. his teammates are his groomsmen. they each takes turns spinning you around the dance floor later that night, and they tell you that if he ever breaks your heart, they’ll kick his ass. you throw your head back and laugh.
at the end of the night, after all the guests have gone, he asks you for one last dance.
it’s to the slow song you’d danced to the first night you met so long ago, in that dingy little bar. he spins you around, and you step on his toes because of all the wine, but neither of you care. all you care about is each other.
he’s deployed a week after your wedding, and you hate to see him go, but you’d never put yourself between him and his work. his team promises you they’ll get him back to you safely. you trust them with all your heart.
when he returns months later, he’s sporting new scars and stitches. he’s the most beat up you’d ever seen him, and you hold back tears as you patch him up. only when he’s soundly asleep do you let the tears fall.
but life continues. you make the most of his time on leave, and anxiously await his return on deployment.
and although you would never dare utter the words, you know that the day he doesn’t come back to you is the day a piece of you dies, too.
you didn’t believe in soulmates until you met him.
#johnny soap mactavish#john soap mctavish x reader#john mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish#soap fic#soap x reader#soap call of duty#soap mw2#soap x you#soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick#kyle garrick x reader#kyle garrick x you#gaz fluff#soap fluff#kyle gaz x reader#gaz x reader#gaz x you#lover#lover by Taylor swift#cod mw2 fic#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#johnny mactavish#Johnny Mactavish x reader#john mactavish#john mactavish fluff#Kyle Garrick fluff#kyle gaz x you
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call it what you want part 11
matt sturniolo x fem reader.
y’all 😋😋😋😋😋😋😋
“do you feel it yet?” he asked. his voice seemed so far away, even though he was lying on the grass next to you less than a foot away.
chris had kept his promise. he let you smoke. and it was just perfect. the sun was hot in the sky, not a single cloud in sight, the warm embrace of the breeze wafting through an empty field washing away every single thought you’d had since the last time you spoke to matt 2 weeks ago, and the buzz from the weed was delightful.
the space inbetween then and now had been torturous, you had to carry on this act with matt, while pretending you hated him, but every time you caught him looking at you, or he pulled you into him, kissing your temple when you were around people, made you want to break down and cry.
but this is just what had to happen, your parents were still furious with you, caden had barely spoken two words to you and jessica was still obsessing over matt. her matt. not yours. he was hers. or so you thought.
a comfortable silence settled over the two of you, while chris awaited your answer, you let out a breath before speaking.
“when does a monster become a monster?” you asked, your jaw felt heavy as you stared up at the sky.
“yeah your definitely feeling it” chris giggled, lifting his head slightly to look at you.
you couldn’t help but laugh too. “i’m serious”
“what do you mean by a monster?” he asked, finally settling back down, and looking at the side of your face.
“like elijah wasn’t mean at first, but it was inevitable, so when does a monster become a monster” you replies, still staring at the sky, blinking slowly.
chris sighed before looking away, and also aiming his eyes up, his hands picking at the grass besides him.
“i mean when is a monster not a monster, because at first, the monster will buy you flowers, and tell you your pretty, let you cry in his arms, and then one day you piss the monster off and he jumps out of the closet to scare you, and now you’re too afraid to sleep in the dark, so you keep a night light on, but it’s not enough, the monster still jumps out on you and you’re still scared” he said.
you were now staring at the side of his face, with your eyebrows pinched together. that was probably the deepest thing chris had ever said.
“maybe that’s why you pushed matt away,” he continued, turning his head to look at you. “because we both know you didn’t want to do that, but it’s just the way you’re wired. you want him in your house but you don’t want him to find your hiding spot, you want him to hold you but he can’t come to close” he breathed.
chris was right. this is what happened. matt got a little too close and your guards came up. every single wall that elijah had built in you rose to the surface, and shut matt out.
“you’re right” you whispered, turning your head away from chris, and back to the sky, before swallowing and resting your hands on your stomach. you suddenly felt vulnerable, like he had just peered into your head and plucked out your thoughts.
“i know i’m right. and i also know that matt is distraught. maybe you guys still have a long way to go, but didn’t you feel like you were getting somewhere?” he asked, still looking at the side of your face.
you swallowed thickly before speaking. “but matt and i won’t work, he wants jessica and i want elijah, he’s just ahead of himself right now” you argued, shaking your head.
“is he?” chris asked quietly, narrowing his eyes at you. you turned your head to look at him with a deep frown. you weren’t actually sure, and the thin line of trying to convince chris or trying to convince your self was becoming blurry.
“he is”.
“he’s not”
“yes he is chris”
“no he’s not y/n”
“he’s actually not sure”. his voice startled both of you. chris almost jumped out of his own skin and you shot up into a sitting position, snapping your head round to look at him.
“chris you told us you were gonna be taking y/n home 2 hours ago” matt said, looking at chris.
“we got a little carried away” he laughed, but your face was droning. you did not find this funny.
“i can see that” matt muttered, darting his eyes over to you briefly. “are you high?” he asked.
you dropped your eyes to the ground, not daring to look at him a second longer. he knew the answer, you didn’t even have to say anything. he just sighed.
“come on, i’ll drive you” his statement was directed towards you but, he was looking at chris. maybe he was too nervous, or maybe it was the fact that he was disappointed, you never smoked, and he knew it was because of him that you were doing it now.
matt made eye contact with you, but you couldn’t look at him. you were ashamed in a way, that this was how he had found you, high, and spewing nonsense.
“i can’t go home high” you whispered to chris. you were suddenly paranoid. and wether it was simply matts presence or the weed you weren’t sure.
“sleepoverrrr” chris giggled in a sing song voice, walking besides you with matt in-front, but you couldn’t even crack a smile. you were mortified that matt had possibly heard what you had said, and now you had to be forced into proximity with him, despite your undying efforts to stay as far away from his as you could for the past 2 weeks while keeping up the act. you had been burning the candle at both ends.
you could throw up. this feeling was horrible. the car felt like it was swaying side to side, and the sound of the music playing over chris and matts voice was pounding in your head.
you rested your head on the window of the car, and closed your eyes, trying to ground yourself. the cold glass was some what comforting.
“y/n you okay?” matt asked, and when you lifted your head and looked up, he was watching you through the centre mirror.
you swallowed and nodded. your mouth was filling with saliva, and your skin felt like it was on fire, and the thrum of the radio playing was making your head spin.
“you look a little pale y/n” chris giggled, turning to look at you from the passenger seat. his eyes were red and almost closed, and he was grinning from ear to ear, he was obviously having a great time, you couldn’t say the same.
you just let out a shakey breath and closed your eyes again.
-
it felt like hours had passed, and when you felt the car come to a stop, you realised you were on the drive way of the sturniolo house.
chris immediately jumped out of the car, sauntering off into the house.
“you sure you’re okay?” matt said quietly, not moving from his place in the drivers seat.
“yeah i’m fine, i just don’t feel too good, probably car sick or something” you muttered back, keeping your eyes trained down to your hands in your lap.
“yeah” matt whispered, but he did not believe you for one second. he knew you had over done it and you were about to green out.
once you made your move, exiting the car, matt did too. he followed you inside to be met with chris basically incoherent, slouched on the couch, and nick no where to be found.
all of a sudden, your mouth filled with saliva again, and your throat closed.
your feet moved fast, rushing you too the bathroom. you basically collapsed on the floor while emptying the contents of your stomach out into the toilet.
you felt a hand, pull your hair out of your face, and another rubbing slow circles on your back.
“chris i smoked way too much” you spoke, through a broken voice, coughing, with your head still hanging over the toilet.
“i know you did” that’s not chris.
as if you weren’t ashamed enough about the fact that Matt had seen you high, he was now looking at you while you were vomiting. brilliant.
you sat back against the wall, wiping your mouth with a tissue before throwing it away, and bringing your knees up to your chest.
“don’t make this a habit” matt said quietly, while standing over you and handing you a bottle of opened water, but his voice carried a warning tone.
“i won’t. thanks” you rasped, taking the bottle from his hands, not daring to look up at his face.
you sat in silence, slowly sipping the water, while matt stared down at you, waiting for you to throw up again.
“i’m fine now, i’m just gonna shower and head to bed” you said, finally standing up and looking at him.
“well chris is asleep on the couch so, his bed is fair game” matt replied, nudging his head towards the living room where chris was out cold.
“okay” you nodded, while waiting for matt to leave.
“you gonna be okay?” he asked, squinting his eyes at you.
“could you wait in here while i shower?” you asked. your mouth moved before your brain and it just came out. he obviously didn’t expect it either by the way his eyes widened so far they almost bulged out of his head.
“i- i mean- i ca- um,” he cleared his throat. “yeah sure, i’ll just uh” he said, pointing to that wall opposite the shower, and turning to face it, so he wouldn’t be looking at you.
you hummed in agreement, before stripping off and getting into the shower.
maybe it was the weed still in your system, but you had full confidence in him. you were putting all your trust in him to not turn around, and you believed he wouldn’t.
the water was hot on your skin, each drop washing away the horrible feeling of being too high. you sighed, letting your head tip back and your eyes close.
for a moment, you forgot matt was there, you did your normal shower routine, washing your hair, then your body then your face, all while matt was stood not even a metre away, with your trust in his hands.
you turned to look at him, bouncing on his heels with his hands together infront of him.
“are you nervous?” you quirked, giggling slightly.
“no y/n i’m not nervous, i just… i’m not nervous” he said, sighing.
“whatever you say baby” you cooed. keeping your eyes on his back as you pushed your hair out of your face.
he let out a breath and dropped his head. matt could’ve fell to his knees there and then. the fact you were standing behind him, completely naked, trusting him to stand there with you, had him rock hard.
but he was also confused, you hadn’t spoken to him in weeks, now you were calling him baby. he knew it was just the weed but he couldn’t help but have a small amount of hope bloom in his chest.
you felt a little bad, because you were just fucking with him, but the fact you could visibly see he was affected made you want to take it a little farther.
“could you pass me a towel matty?” you breathed. the words dripping like honey off of your tongue, and just like a moth to a flame, matt was drawn to it.
——————————————————————————
taglist: @christinarowie332 @biimpanicking @biplrbtch @ukyos @eyelessdemon00 @iheart2021chris-deactivated2024 @hearts4chris @leah-loves-lilies @whicked-hazlatwhore @1201pm-blog @yourmom-123456789 @mattnchrisworld @leoloveeeee @jazab3lla @martyniukpl @ilovemattstromboli @obsessedwithyou @breeloveschris @skyteller143 @innocentfsin @thatcrazybitch-69 @ihateeveryone357474 @shmophsturniolo @sturns-posts @mattsturnzzz09 @sturnisposts @jenna0rtegaswife @jeffbuckleylvr27 @sara2233445 @sturniolos4lifee @kasiaslayuje @cosmicmistake42069 @24kmar @ikeryn @sleepdeprivedandinsane @lvr444life @travelintheworld @aubreyswift13 @sturniololol @starziices @nickmillersn1gf @beautyb1ade @tommysaxes @sstvrnioloo
#mango talks#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#call it what you want#matthew bernard sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#matty b#christopher owen sturniolo#chris sturniolo blurb#chris sturniolo oneshot#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo imagine#sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#ciwyw#my fics#my stuff#mango
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All about us
Dad!Gojo x reader // established!relationship, fluff, angst if you squint, parenting Megumi and Tsumiki. // 1.1k words
Gojo’s being irresponsible again and this time you’re not having any of it.
(Not proofread be kind😭)
The school bell rang, signaling the end of another day for Tsumiki and Megumi. As the siblings made their way out of the school gates, they scanned the surroundings for any sign of their adopted father, Gojo Satoru. However, there was no sight of him.
"Where is he again?" Tsumiki huffed, her tiny brows furrowed in irritation.
Megumi sighed, used to their guardian's forgetfulness. "I don't know. Let's just wait a bit longer."
Meanwhile, at the school gate, you stood with crossed arms, tapping your foot impatiently. Gojo was supposed to pick up the kids today, but once again, he seemed to have forgotten.
"This is getting ridiculous," you muttered to yourself.
After what felt like an eternity, Gojo finally arrived, a sheepish grin on his face. "Hey there, kiddos!
Sorry, got caught up with some cursed spirits. You know how it is."
Tsumiki rolled her eyes, unimpressed. "You always say that..."
Ignoring Gojo, you took Megumi and Tsumiki by the hand and walked away. Gojo trailed behind, trying to make amends.
"Come on, sweetheart! I brought some snacks!” Gojo presented a bag filled with an assortment of sweets.
You shot him a disapproving look. "You're unbelievable, Gojo. You forgot to pick them up, and now you're bribing them with junk food?"
Gojo scratched his head, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, a little sugar never hurt anyone, right?"
You sighed, choosing to ignore him as you continued walking. The kids exchanged confused glances but stayed silent.
Days went by, and Gojo's irresponsible antics continued. From missed appointments to chaotic dinner choices, you found it increasingly difficult to tolerate his behavior. The silent treatment became your weapon of choice, leaving Gojo to fend for himself.
One evening, as you were preparing dinner, Gojo approached you with a guilty expression. "Listen, I know I've been slacking off lately, but I promise I'll make it up to you. How about a movie night with the kids? My treat!"
You glanced at him, unimpressed. "A movie night won't change anything, Gojo."
He pouted, realizing the severity of the situation. "Come on, don't be like that. I'll make it up to you,I swear."
But your silence spoke volumes, and you continued chopping vegetables without acknowledging his presence. Tsumiki and Megumi, witnessing the tension between you two, exchanged concerned glances.
Days turned into weeks, and your silent treatment persisted. Gojo, realizing the severity of the situation, decided to step up his game in an attempt to win back your affections. The chaos he once brought to your life now seemed to be replaced by an earnest effort to make amends.
One day, as you were in your classroom, teaching at Jujutsu High, you found your desk cluttered with a bunch of beautifully wrapped gifts. Puzzled, you looked around the room, and there stood Gojo, a hopeful grin on his face.
"Hey there! Just a little something to brighten up your day," he chimed, gesturing toward the gifts.
Ignoring him, you continued with your lecture, pretending as if the extravagant gifts didn't exist.
The students exchanged curious glances, aware of the tension in the air.
Gojo, unbothered, decided to take a more direct approach. He leaned against your desk, trying to catch your eye. "I got you all these things to say sorry. Can we talk, please?"
You maintained your focus on the lesson, pointedly avoiding any acknowledgment of his presence. Gojo sighed but didn't give up.
In the following days, the gifts kept coming - flowers, chocolates, even a cute puppy with a ribbon around its neck. Gojo seemed determined to break through your icy exterior. Each time he appeared with a new surprise, you merely accepted them with a stoic expression, refusing to let your guard down.
One afternoon, he brought in a lunchbox filled with a gourmet meal. "I made it myself, with a little help from Nanami," he announced, placing it on your desk.
You glanced at the lunchbox but said nothing. Gojo sighed, frustration evident on his face. The students, now thoroughly entertained by the ongoing drama, exchanged whispers and giggles.
The next attempt at reconciliation involved a grand gesture. Gojo rented out a rooftop restaurant, adorned with fairy lights and overlooking the city. As you finished another day of teaching, he awaited you there with a hopeful smile.
"Come on, let me make it up to you. Dinner is on me," he pleaded.
You walked past him without a word, heading straight for the exit. Gojo followed, desperation in his eyes. "Please, just talk to me."
The grand gestures, the thoughtful gifts, and the persistent efforts seemed to have no effect on your resolve.
The more Gojo tried to win you over, the more determined you became to uphold your silent protest.
One evening, after another failed attempt to grab your attention, Gojo found himself sitting alone in his apartment. The gifts he had showered you with were scattered around, remnants of his futile attempts to break through your walls.
He sighed, realizing that perhaps the path to reconciliation wasn't through grand gestures but through genuine change. The next day, he decided to focus on being a responsible partner and a reliable father to Tsumiki and Megumi, hoping that actions would speak louder than gifts.
Later that week, Gojo decided to take matters into his own hands. Armed with a bouquet of flowers and a charming smile, he showed up at your doorstep.
"Hey there, beautiful. I come in peace," Gojo said, holding out the flowers.
You raised an eyebrow, still not ready to break your silence.
Gojo sighed, his playful facade dropping for a moment. "Look, I know I've been acting like an idiot.
I promise to do better. For them," he said, nodding towards Tsumiki and Megumi, who were watching the scene unfold.
You softened at the mention of the kids. "Gojo, it's not just about them. It's about us too. You can't keep acting like a child."
He nodded, sincerity in his eyes. "I get it. I'll be more responsible, starting now. Just give me a chance to make things right."
You sighed, finally breaking into a small smile. "You better keep your promise, ‘Toru."
He grinned, relief evident on his face. "You won't regret it, I promise."
As Gojo stepped inside, Tsumiki and Megumi exchanged relieved smiles. Maybe, just maybe, their unconventional family could find a balance between chaos and love.
#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru#gojo x you#jjk fluff#jjk gojo#jjk headcanons#gojo satoru x reader#megumi x reader#jjk megumi#megumi fushiguro#megumi fluff#gojou satoru x reader#gojo saturo#satoru gojo#satoru gojo x reader#jjk smut#jjk art#jjk fanart#jjk#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen spoilers#jujutsu kaisen fanart#gojo smut#gojo smau#gojo x y/n#gojo x geto#gojo x oc
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