#( it HAS managed to get up and walk around on the rare rare rare occasion but couldn’t do much beyond that )

[alsofoundinpeas]

Only Ever You

Summary: Y/N knows her husband can be a bit oblivious when it comes to women flirting with him, but when a local officer oversteps during their latest case, she reaches her breaking point. She’s exhausted from feeling like she’s always second to every other woman. Now, it's up to Spencer to prove that no one will ever come before her.

Requested fic!! : I was hoping you could write an angsty-angry-smutty fic surrounding Spencer exasperatingly telling Reader: “Cat Adams could offer herself up wide open on a bed. In fact she has! JJ could leave Will for me. Maeve could fucking walk back in here right now. And I would still choose you!”

At some point in their love-making Reader tells Spencer “you always choose women who take and take and take from you. Giving nothing of themselves back but you deserve everything. I want to give you my everything”. They essentially worship each other endlessly. In so many ways.

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+!! MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. This was written with Season 14 Reid in mind btw :) Intense argument between Reader and Spencer (Reader is hurt and is kind of harsh). Very brief mentions of past infidelity (done by Reader's ex-partners). Jealous reader!! Crying during arguing (very brief by both parties). Oral (both m and f receiving), fingering (f!receiving), overstimulation (both m and f receiving), unprotected PinV sex (be safe irl!!), multiple orgasms (both m and f receiving), creampie (I wince every time I type that LMAO), slight exhibitionism (a call is made during sex), praise. Angst turned happy ending!!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader/afab!reader

A/N: First and foremost, thank you so very much to the anon who requested this!! I truly hope you enjoy it and that I wrote what you were hoping for :') <3 To everyone reading, welcome to my first fic of the new year!! I hope you guys enjoy it :) As always, please let me know what you guys think! If you like it, please consider dropping a like, reblogging it, or even sharing it with your friends :') I love you all!! <3 K

Something Y/N loathed about herself was her tendency to get overly jealous whenever other women (or even some men) were around Spencer. It wasn’t a matter of trusting him—she trusted Spencer with her life. But no amount of trust could erase the scars left by the betrayal of past partners who had cheated on her.

Y/N tried to hold back her annoyance whenever JJ hung around Spencer for what she considered far too long to be just friendly. She bit her tongue whenever a witness or suspect flirted with him. She had even managed to keep her cool one night when they went out for drinks with the team (a rare occasion) and Y/N returned from the bathroom to find the bartender borderline eye-fucking Spencer, even going so far as to reach for his arm.

Spencer’s obliviousness to women's advances toward him often made her blood boil, and as she had watched him that night, a knot of frustration tightened in her stomach. Her anger simmered, rising bitterly in her throat as she made her way toward them. Y/N knew the bartender had seen his wedding band—it was something Spencer wore like a badge of honor, always proudly visible.

Thankfully, Spencer pulled his arm away before she had to intervene, ranting about how the drink was meant for her, his wife before paying and storming back to their booth, clearly irked. In that moment, Y/N’s anger evaporated, replaced by a rush of relief as she was reminded of Spencer's unwavering love for her, a love he would always prove, with or without her presence. Rather than confronting the bartender, she turned and returned to the booth, curling up against Spencer with a contented smile, enjoying the rest of the night in his arms.

Tonight, Y/N struggled to remember that reminder as she cast a fierce glare at the back of Spencer's head from across the room.

The team had been dispatched to a small town in Oregon to investigate a particularly disturbing case where the unsub was leaving his victims strung up in the state forest along popular hiking trails, their stomachs or backs marked with cryptic quotes. Over the week, Spencer had struck up an unexpected connection with Officer Henley, a local who shared his deep knowledge of Edgar Allan Poe—particularly The Raven, from which the unsub was drawing his quotes. As the case dragged on, Y/N couldn’t ignore the growing tension, especially as Officer Henley—or Sarah, who kept insisting Spencer call her by her first name—made her interest in him all too apparent, while both women silently made their distaste for each other clear.

Tonight was testing Y/N’s patience and professionalism like never before. Spencer and Sarah had been assigned to decode the latest quote found on a victim, while Y/N focused on the geographical profile. Normally, she preferred the analysis over fieldwork, but tonight she would have rather been out in the damp forest searching for overlooked clues with the rest of the team than endure Sarah's loud, incessant laughter at some meaningless joke her husband had made.

Spencer, naturally, was just glad someone appreciated his sense of humor and remained blissfully unaware of Sarah’s clear attempts to flirt with him. To be honest, he found her a bit clingy and annoying, but he attributed it to her enthusiasm as a new officer—she had only joined the precinct a few months ago—and the excitement of working on a case far more intense than the usual petty theft or minor civil dispute her town had.

After another round of high-pitched laughter, Y/N reached her breaking point. With an exasperated sigh, she slammed the box of pins onto the table and stood up abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. So consumed by frustration, she didn't even realize one of the pins had punctured the thin plastic until she reached for the doorknob, a muffled curse slipping from her lips as she noticed blood trickling down her finger.

The loud noise startled both Sarah and Spencer, causing them to turn quickly as Y/N stormed out of the room. Spencer’s brow furrowed with concern, and without a second thought, he excused himself, brushing past Sarah’s confused calls. It didn't take long for him to find Y/N in the breakroom, huddled in the corner, carefully applying a band-aid to her finger.

"Honey? Are you okay?" Spencer asked worriedly, making his way toward her.

Y/N looked up, unable to help the disgruntled look on her face as she huffed. “I’m fine. It was just a small poke, really. I don’t know why it bled so much,” she murmured, looking away to take a sip of the coffee she’d poured for herself.

The clock above the break room door ticked on, its hands marking a quarter past nine. Y/N's frustration simmered, a mix of exhaustion from the sleepless nights and irritation at Spencer’s obliviousness to Sarah’s clear interest in him. For someone with such sharp profiling skills, it baffled her that Spencer couldn't seem to read the obvious signs when it came to women.

Where he failed to read other women and their intentions, he had no such trouble with Y/N. He could read her effortlessly, which is why he immediately knew she was lying.

Spencer took a seat beside her, his gaze fixed on her face intently. He sat quietly for a moment before speaking up.

“What’s bothering you, sweetheart? Talk to me. Please?”

Spencer knew Y/N tended to bottle things up instead of letting them out, reluctant to share her feelings for fear of burdening him. He detested anyone in her life who had contributed to that insecurity. In his eyes, she would never be a bother for simply expressing how she felt.

Before Y/N could respond, her phone rang, and she silently welcomed the interruption. She wasn’t sure she could explain to Spencer why she was so upset—especially over something as irrational as him making another woman laugh. She knew, logically, that he would never (knowingly) encourage any flirting, yet the feeling still nagged at her. He was her husband. She loved him more than anything, and the idea of another woman encroaching on what they had stung more than she cared to admit.

Y/N held a finger up before answering the call with a brisk “Agent Y/L/N speaking.”

“Yikes, that was cold. You okay?”

When Tara’s voice came through the phone, Y/N immediately felt a twinge of guilt for how she’d answered, but it quickly faded as her shoulders eased and she exhaled softly.

“I’ll explain later. What’s up?”

“We’re not making any progress here, and since it’s so late, Emily thinks we should head to the Inn and get some rest. You definitely sound like you could use it,” Tara said with a soft chuckle.

She wasn’t wrong. The case, combined with Sarah’s behavior, had Y/N feeling stretched thin and irritable. The sleep deprivation certainly wasn’t helping. A small grin tugged at her lips before she replied.

“You know me too well, ma’am. You get some rest too. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Y/N hung up the phone and met Spencer’s inquisitive gaze. “That was Tara. Emily gave the go-ahead to wrap up and head to the Inn,” she explained, offering him a small, tired smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Spencer nodded, his gaze lingering on her with quiet concern as they stood. He said nothing as they walked back to the conference room to pack up for the night, choosing not to press her about whatever was troubling her. He made a mental note to bring it up later, at a better time. They still had an unsub to catch, and adding more stress to an already challenging case wouldn’t help either of them.

After five more long, excruciating days of watching Sarah blatantly flirt with her husband and ignoring the team's questioning glances, Y/N finally got the break she all but begged the universe for.

By some miracle, they had finally tracked down the unsub. A slip-up at his latest crime scene had not only left his DNA behind, but he was also in the system for previous crimes and still lived at the same address. The evidence they found in his home during the arrest was more than damning, so Emily decided the local police captain could take it from there, handling the interrogation and everything else.

The flight back to Quantico was tense, and Y/N chose to sit with Tara instead of Spencer. His defense of Sarah—especially after Y/N confronted her for grabbing his phone and putting her number in it "as a friend"—had been the breaking point. Now, she was actively ignoring him, despite his repeated pleas at the Inn while they packed for her to just tell him what was wrong so he could fix it. She knew it was petty. She knew she should be mature and talk to him about it. But she was hurt. All she wanted was for her husband to recognize when other women were making moves on him before it crossed a line—like with the bartender who thought it was okay to touch him.

The drive home was unbearable. Spencer’s hands were clenched around the wheel, his knuckles pale from the pressure, while Y/N faced the window, staring out into the darkness, her body turned away from him. The silence between them was deafening, with neither of them saying a word the entire ride.

That silence ended the instant Y/N slammed the door behind them after they’d brought in their go-bags.

“Y/N, seriously, what the fuck is your problem?” Spencer snapped, his frustration bubbling over. He had tried being patient, asking her again and again to just tell him what was wrong, but now he was done. After the long, grueling case they'd gotten back from, all he wanted was to hold his wife, not fight with her.

“What the fuck is my problem?!” Y/N scoffed incredulously. “What the fuck is your problem Spencer?”

Y/N stormed toward their bedroom, flinging her bag into the corner to deal with later. Spinning on her heels, she brushed past Spencer—who had been trailing her—and made her way to the kitchen. Spencer sighed, setting his bag next to their closet and placing his phone on his nightstand before turning to follow after her.

“Or better yet, why don’t you ask Sarah what my problem is?” she shot at him, her words laced with bitterness. “After all, she was kind enough to give you her number, and you two seem to get along so well!” Y/N stopped abruptly, turning to face him, her expression fierce.

Spencer scoffed, raising his eyebrows and shaking his head as he crossed his arms. "Seriously? You’re this upset because a woman was being friendly with me?"

Y/N laughed sharply, the mix of anger and hurt making her delirious. She nodded slowly, lifting her gaze to his, her tongue pressing into her cheek as her eyes narrowed. With a deliberate step forward, she closed the distance between them. “As brilliant as you are, that might just be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say in all the years I’ve known you,” she hissed, her glare fiery as she looked up at him.

Spencer's throat tightened as his pulse quickened, staring at her in disbelief. He had never seen his wife so furious, and a sinking feeling of dread settled deep in his stomach. His lips parted, but before he could speak, she turned on her heel, moving around the counter to put space between them.

“I’m at a loss, Spencer,” Y/N sighed, her head dropping as her fingers drummed against the countertop. “If you honestly think her behavior was just friendly, I don’t even know what to say to you.” She looked up at him, her voice shaking with frustration as she got louder and louder. “And on top of all that, you defended her over me—your wife! Do you know how embarrassing that was? I would never, in a million years, defend another man over you!”

With the case no longer consuming his thoughts, Spencer took a moment to truly reflect on Sarah’s behavior. What he had once brushed off as clingy and overenthusiastic now seemed undeniably inappropriate. He had been so focused on the case that he hadn’t given it the attention it deserved.

Y/N was right, and he knew now that he’d been wrong to defend another woman over her. He had convinced himself that Y/N was overreacting when Sarah put her number in his phone, but now he understood. Y/N was his wife, and the guilt of making her feel hurt and humiliated weighed heavily on him.

“Y/N—“ Spencer hesitated, sighing before he continued. “Sweetheart, I never meant to make you feel like I was putting someone else before you. You know that, right?” Spencer’s voice was soft, his guilt clear in every word.

Y/N’s lip quivered as she stared at him, shaking her head before releasing a strained breath.

“No, Spencer. I don’t know that. Because, no matter what, I always end up on the back burner when it comes to other women in your life. Sometimes, it honestly feels like you’re deliberately oblivious to it—like you don’t care enough to notice or do something about it. Like you’ll always choose another woman over me."

Her words hit Spencer harder than he expected, stirring up a well of emotion he hadn’t realized was there. Anger bubbled up inside him, but it wasn’t aimed at her—not for a second. It was anger directed at himself, for making Y/N feel like she would ever come second to anyone.

Spencer realized now why he had been so oblivious to the other women’s attention. It was because he was so in love with her, so completely devoted, that he couldn’t even entertain the idea of anyone else wanting him. He didn’t care about them in the slightest—how could he when he had the most incredible, most beautiful woman alive as his wife?

“Is that… is that truly how I’ve made you feel?” Spencer whispers, a devastated look on his face as he took a trembling step toward her. “Like I’d choose any other woman over you, sweetheart?”

Y/N nodded, swallowing down the lump in her throat as a tear slipped down her cheek at the admission.

Spencer slowly made his way around the counter, giving her time to back away if she didn’t want him near her right now. Once he reached her, he gently guided her face up to look at his before swiping the tear from her cheek.

“My darling girl,” he murmured, his voice unwavering as he cradled her face. “Cat Adams could offer herself up to me wide open on a bed a thousand times—it wouldn’t matter. JJ could walk away from Will tonight, tomorrow, whenever, and it wouldn’t change a thing. Even if Maeve herself walked through that door right now…” Spencer paused, his expression softening. “I’d still choose you. Always you. Only you. In this life, and in every life. Without a second of hesitation. Without an ounce of doubt.”

Y/N’s heart clenched at his words, her eyes studying his face for any indication that he was lying. But all she saw was raw honesty and regret, his eyes brimming with tears. Her eyes closed as another tear slipped down her cheek, and slowly, she leaned into his touch, her shoulders finally giving way with a quiet surrender.

"You really mean that?" Y/N asked, her insecurity still overpowering the evidence before her.

Spencer pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her as he gently cradled the back of her head with one hand and drew her waist against him with the other. “Of course I mean it, my sweet girl,” he murmured, pressing his face into her hair, his eyes slipping shut. “I’m so, truly sorry for not showing you that sooner. But I swear, from now on, I will. No one—no one—could ever mean more to me than you.”

Y/N kept her arms around him, her face pressed against his chest as she let his words sink in. After a beat, she pulled back with a soft exhale, wiping her eyes before meeting his gaze. “I’m still angry with you,” she said, poking a finger into his chest before trailing her hand up to gently tug at his tie. “But that definitely helped your case,” she added, a playful spark lighting her eyes as she slowly untied his knot. “I might even let you sleep in our bed tonight.”

A low chuckle rumbled in Spencer’s chest as he raised an eyebrow, his hands settling on her waist while she worked at his tie. “Any chance I can turn that ‘might’ into a ‘will’?” he murmured, his voice laced with teasing. “Because I can think of a few ways to plead my case.”

As he spoke, his hands slid underneath her blouse to rub maddening circles into her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. Y/N tilted her head, humming thoughtfully as she let his loose tie slip from her fingers, falling to the floor. It had been almost two weeks since the last time she and Spencer had done anything remotely sexual, and the idea of make-up sex was more than appealing.

“We’ll see,” Y/N whispered, a playful smirk tugging at her lips as she pressed her hand against his chest and rose onto her toes to kiss him.

Spencer melted into the kiss, turning to press her gently against the counter. A low groan escaped his lips before he deepened the kiss, trailing a hand down her side to hike her leg up around his waist while the other settled against the side of her neck. His thumb stroked her jawline as he pressed further into her touch.

"I love how hard you get from just a few kisses," Y/N muttered against his lips. "Maybe you really are sorry after all."

"My angel girl," Spencer cooed between kisses, trailing his lips down her neck to her exposed collarbone. "I'll prove to you—" A soft gasp fell from Y'N's lips as he sucked a mark into her skin. "—just how sorry I am…” Her head tipped back as he began to kneel before her, placing both hands on her waist as he peppered kisses down her clothed body. “And worship you in the way you’ve deserved—“ Her gaze met his as he lifted her foot, resting it on his thigh before undoing the strap of her high heel. “—for so, so long.”

Y/N’s hands gripped the counter as she watched him through hooded eyes, a breath of relief releasing into the air as he slipped her shoe off, letting it hit the ground beside them with a quiet thump. He kept her foot on his thigh, placing a kiss on her knee through her slacks as he began to massage her tense calf muscles under the fabric. Once he was satisfied with the appreciative groans falling from her lips, he did the same with the other side, removing her high heel and massaging her leg.

Spencer sat her foot back down on the ground before reaching for the button of her slacks, popping it open. Her breath hitched as he leaned forward, tugging her zipper down with his teeth. The moment her zipper was completely down, he reached up, startling her from her haze as he yanked the fabric down her legs.

“Spence!” Y/N said, her laugh tinged with amusement as he merely shrugged, a mischievous spark in his eyes and a smirk tugging at his lips.

He helped her step out of the fabric, keeping his hands on her hips to steady her while she kicked her pants to the side. His lips eagerly pressed to her newly exposed skin, trailing open-mouthed kisses along the waistband of her panties. “You’re not the only one that’s still angry here,” Spencer mumbled against her skin, tracing his fingers up her thighs to drag her soaked panties down her legs.

“Wait… what are you angry about?” Y/N's face contorted, caught between confusion and irritation.

“I’m angry—“ A wet kiss pressed against her hip bone. “At myself—“ Another wet kiss pressed to her outer thigh. “For making you feel—“ Her face relaxed as he eased her left thigh over his shoulder. “Like I’d ever—“ A series of soft kisses to her inner thigh made her tense with anticipation. “Put anyone else above you, sweetheart.”

In one swift movement, his tongue dragged up her arousal, a guttural groan rumbling against her slick skin as he began to devour her. Y/N’s hands shot out to thread through his hair with a sharp gasp, her mouth dropping open as moans started to spill from her lips. His hands found her ass, gripping her tightly and digging his fingertips into the soft flesh there as he all but suffocated himself in her folds.

"Oh my—" Y/N rasped, cutting herself off with a whine as he let out a needy moan in response.

Her grip on his hair tightened, pulling him impossibly closer as she began to rock her hips against his face. Her eyes squeezed shut, bursts of color flickering behind her eyelids as Spencer worked his mouth against her. His movements alternated between fucking his tongue into her and suckling her clit greedily, the combination hurtling her toward her orgasm.

Spencer was painfully hard, his erection tenting his slacks as he reveled in the taste of her. One of his favorite things to do after a stressful case (which, frankly, was most of them) was bury his face between her thighs. Her taste was truly addictive, and he'd find himself craving it the longer he went without having her. It was as though the more he could make her legs shake around his head and the harder he could make her cum, the faster the stress evaporated from his body. And now he was working extra hard to make her feel good, eager to redeem himself for his behavior.

A tremulous moan ripped through the air as Y/N hunched over, whimpering his name mindlessly as her first orgasm of the night tore through her. Spencer groaned into her as her nails dug into his scalp, the slight sting sending a pang of longing coursing through him as he ached to feel those nails dragging down his back. His movements slowed, easing her through the aftermath of her climax as she panted above him. Once she was whining and shoving his head away, he gently lowered her leg to the ground, standing with a soft chuckle as she swayed slightly.

“Easy, sweetheart. Come on, hold on to me,” Spencer murmured, his hand soothingly rubbing her back as she clung to him.

Y/N let out a breathless laugh, burying her face in his chest as she trembled in his embrace. "God, you're too good at that," she sighed, placing a kiss on his collarbone before pulling back to look up at him. "Take me to our room so I can return the favor?"

The grin on her face was infectious, and Spencer found himself smiling as he nodded. "Yes ma'am," he murmured teasingly.

They stripped their remaining clothes in between giggly kisses, littering the hallway with the fabric before they finally made it into their room. Y/N looped her arms around Spencer's neck, backing him against the closed door as she leaned up to kiss him hungrily. Spencer's hands roamed her body, whimpering into her mouth as her hand trailed down his body to wrap around his cock.

"Honey, you really don't have to—"

Spencer hissed against her lips, his sentence interrupted as she began to pump her hand slowly. "I'm supposed to be making it up to you—"

Y/N shushed him, nipping his lower lip gently before breaking their kiss completely. His cock twitched in her hand from the way she was looking up at him so reverently, and he swallowed hard as he stopped his protesting.

"You always chose women who took and took from you, offering nothing in return. But you deserve everything, my sweet boy. I want to give you all that I am, just like you give me all that you are. Let me make you feel good too, Spence."

There was no room for argument as her words hung in the air, causing his heart to tighten. She was right. He’d always been drawn to selfish partners, always putting their needs before his own. Or, in Cat Adam's case, completely insane women hellbent on draining him of his sanity. That was what made Y/N so surprising to him from the start. Even when they were just colleagues with unspoken crushes, long before they were a couple, she was the one woman who always made a point to put him first.

When he nodded, she grinned in satisfaction, placing one last lingering kiss on his lips before sinking to her knees. Spencer felt like his brain malfunctioned anytime he was lucky enough to see her like this—kiss swollen lips glistening as she wet her lips, or her pupils dilated so much he could barely make out the color in her beautiful irises as she stared up at him. No matter how many times he saw her like this, he would never stop being captivated by how stunning she was.

His head fell back against the door with a solid thunk as his brows pinched together at the feeling of her lips wrapping around the swollen head of his arousal, a sharp exhale leaving his nose as he tried to steady himself. She'd barely touched him and yet he could already feel his stomach tightening simply from the anticipation of what he knew was coming next. A throaty moan filled the air as she swirled her tongue around him before taking his length deeper, gagging slightly as he hit the back of her throat.

"Fuck!" Spencer whined, forcing himself to look down at her instead of squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure. "Love it when you take me so deep, sweetheart. Just like that—"

Y/N smirked smugly around her mouthful, beginning to bob her head up and down his aching cock. One of her favorite things about Spencer was how, despite everyone seeing him as soft-spoken and mild-mannered because he rarely cursed in front of others, he had an absolutely filthy mouth when they did anything even remotely sexual. It felt like her own dirty little secret, and she couldn't help but revel in it.

It didn't take long for his hips to begin bucking gently into her mouth, his hands cradling the back of her head as his chest heaved. Helpless moans slipped from his lips between murmured praises, his hooded eyes locked on her so as not to miss a single second of the show she was putting on for him.

"So fucking pretty with my cock between your lips. My pretty girl. God, I'm the luckiest man to ever exist to have you as my wife—" Spencer crooned between labored breaths, his teeth digging harshly into his lower lip as a guttural groan cut off his rambling. "I'm close— I-I'm— fuck!"

Spencer cried out as Y/N swallowed around his cock, her nose pressing into the soft curls at the base of him as saliva dripped down her chin and onto her chest. The feeling of her moaning around him sent him over the edge, a string of whorish moans and whimpers falling from his open mouth as he painted the back of her throat with his essence. His knees almost buckled as she kept sucking through his orgasm, a pitiful whine leaving him as she finally released him with a slick 'pop'.

Despite feeling like he'd quite literally had his soul sucked from his body, Spencer still held his hand out to help her up from the ground. He pulled her into him as she stood, pressing sweet kisses to the top of her head as he caught his breath. Y/N peppered kisses along his warm skin, more than pleased with herself.

"Get on the bed," Spencer mumbled hoarsely into her hair, landing a gentle smack to her ass.

Y/N eagerly obliged, crawling into the middle of their bed and situating herself amongst their pillows. Her gaze fell on him as he slowly made his way over, her breath hitching at the ravenous look in his eyes.

Spencer had always been a generous lover, making sure she came at least twice before their lovemaking ended. Throughout their relationship, he tended to lean more on the submissive side, happily allowing Y/N to guide their intimate moments any way she saw fit. But after prison, it was like something had snapped in him.

Now, he wasn’t afraid to get rough with her (within her limits, of course). Where he’d once been hesitant to grip too hard or move too fast, he’d now easily leave fingerprint-shaped bruises and pound into her until tears leaked from her eyes from how good it felt. There were still days when he’d let Y/N take the reigns, days when the world was so heavy that all he wanted to do was shut his brain off and let her use him to get herself off, but those days were rare.

Y/N welcomed the change with open arms, excited to let Spencer tap into and explore his more dominant side. Truthfully, she was surprised by how much she enjoyed letting go of control. Her job forced her to be tougher than she liked—always having to stand her ground with local officers or unsubs who underestimated her simply because she was a woman. With Spencer, it felt freeing to leave that hard-edged persona behind, letting him dote on her and take control of her pleasure.

Spencer stopped at the foot of their bed, a wicked look on his face as he observed her. Y/N felt her cheeks warm under the scrutiny of his gaze, shifting restlessly as she waited to see what he was going to do. He kneeled onto the mattress, shuffling forward until he hovered above her.

Instead of speaking, he ducked down and left a lingering kiss on her forehead before lying on his side beside her. Y/N shifted to face him, but he stopped her, keeping her in place on her back. "Like this, sweetheart," he whispered, pressing his lips against her temple. He propped up, guiding his right arm underneath her so he could cradle her head while nipping her earlobe gently.

Spencer trailed a hand down her body, chuckling as she squirmed in his hold. He gripped her thigh firmly, bringing her leg up to rest on his waist to allow him better access to her dripping folds. Spencer began kissing down her neck, relishing in the soft sighs Y/N let out as he angled his hips to nudge the head of his hardening cock against her pussy.

"Need you so bad, Spence—" Y/N whimpered as his hand left her thigh to rub teasing circles against her clit. "Please!"

Spencer hummed, dipping his head down to take her nipple into his mouth as he picked up the pace of his fingers. When she whined louder, he dipped a finger down to tease her entrance and swirled his tongue around her pert bud in retaliation.

"Shh, pretty girl. I'll take care of you," Spencer cooed as he pulled away from her breast. "I always do," he murmured, pressing his finger into her while meeting her lips in a tender kiss.

One of Spencer's favorite things about this position was how accessible it made her. He loved having her spread open for him, unable to do much of anything besides take the pleasure he delivered. He also loved how deep it allowed him to get, able to bring her to the brink over and over because of the constant stimulation to her g-spot.

Moans continued to spill from Y/N's lips as he added a second finger, her hips rolling into his touch frantically. Calling their kiss a kiss seemed too generous—it was more a messy, half-hearted press of lips together. She reached up, tugging at his curls hard as her climax rapidly approached. She was so close—

Spencer swiftly removed his fingers, breaking their kiss to stuff the digits into her mouth before she could complain. He thrust his hips forward, pushing into her in one smooth movement. Y/N let out a muffled cry around his fingers, her eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of him filling her.

"God— shit, baby," Spencer groaned loudly, stilling his hips once he bottomed out to let her adjust. "Always so fucking wet and so fucking tight."

She clenched hard around him, still dangerously close to cumming. Spencer pressed his forehead to her temple as he began to move, thrusting into her in slow, hard thrusts. His right hand stroked her hair while his left slipped from her lips to grip her thigh again, keeping her spread open for him as his pace began to increase.

"So good for me, sweetheart. So perfect," Spencer panted, driving into her in sharp, wild thrusts now. He could tell she was close, and he wanted to feel her falling apart around his cock more than anything.

"Feels so good, Spence," Y/N whined, panting as the pleasure began to coil tightly in her stomach. "Always fuck me so good—"

A choked moan ripped its way from her throat as she came around him, the feeling of her clenching around him causing Spencer's hips to falter as he cursed under his breath. Y/N writhed beneath him, whimpering as he kept his grip tight on her thigh to keep her from clamping her legs shut.

"You can take another one, can't you pretty girl?" Spencer murmured, moving to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to her collarbone as he slowed his hips to help ease her through the overstimulation. "I know you can," he cooed encouragingly. "My precious girl. You always take me so well."

Y/N nodded frantically, the sting of overstimulation beginning to fade back into dizzying pleasure as he fucked into her gently. Spencer pressed a kiss to her shoulder, praising her softly before an idea came to mind. He wanted her to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that no other woman could ever take her place or come before her, right?

What better way to do that than by calling the woman who sparked this argument and showing her exactly what she couldn’t have and who she could never be?

Spencer slowed his thrusts to a halt, chuckling breathlessly as Y/N whined in protest. "On your stomach for me, sweetheart," he coaxed her gently, slipping out of her so she could flip over.

Once she was settled on her front, Spencer slipped a pillow beneath her hips and kissed the back of her head before bending to whisper into her ear.

"How would you feel if I called Sarah right now to show her exactly how much my gorgeous wife means to me—and how insignificant her 'friendship' is in comparison?"

Y/N grinned smugly, shoving her face into the pillow tucked under her head as her face warmed. Was it petty? Absolutely. Had she ever been more turned on than when she heard those words leave her husband's lips? She doubted it. It felt almost primal, staking her claim in such a way. But Sarah more than deserved it for how she'd acted... so fuck it.

"Do it."

Spencer smirked at her muffled words, reaching for his phone and setting it beside them. He lined back up at her entrance, pushing into her with a groan as her warmth enveloped him once more. Once he set a steady rhythm, with Y/N so lost in her pleasure she'd almost forgotten about their plan entirely, he hit dial on Sarah's contact.

Sarah groggily sat up, reaching for her phone as it rang. A sly smirk tugged at her lips when she saw who was calling, and she answered with a hint of excitement. "Well, hey there, handsome. Does your wife know you’re calling me at this hour?" she purred, her grin widening as she waited for him to speak. She knew he was into her—

Sarah’s brows furrowed as she was met with rustling on the other end of the line followed by a very clear moan. Her smile dropped, her mouth gaping open in shock as she listened.

“Fuck, Y/N—“ Spencer’s muffled grunt came through the speakers before he continued, the bed squeaking with each rough thrust. “I love you so fucking much. My beautiful wife. God, sweetheart—"

Sarah dropped the phone, appalled by what was happening on the other end and embarrassed by how confidently she'd answered the phone. One thing was clear—he definitely wasn't into her. Her face burned as she realized she hadn't actually ended the call, the sound of muffled moans streaming through the phone as she hunted for it in the covers. Once it was back in her hands, Sarah ended the call abruptly, blinking hard as she stared down at the screen while she tried to process what had just happened. Spencer had to have butt-dialed her... right?

Spencer chuckled darkly as he realized Sarah had ended the call, reaching up to shove the phone further up the bed and out of the way before he began pounding even harder into Y/N. She was close again, clenching deliciously around him and hurtling him towards his own orgasm just as quickly. He clasped their hands together, shoving them into the mattress as he buried his head in the crook of her neck with a guttural groan.

"I'm cumming— fuck, Spence, fuck!" Y/N cried out, thrashing underneath him as she came so hard her vision blacked at the edges.

Spencer followed suit, burying himself inside of her with a choked groan as he came. His head rested on her shoulder, his hips rocking gently through the aftershocks of their orgasms until they were both whimpering from the sensitivity. He pressed one last, lingering kiss to her flushed skin before rolling off of her and onto the bed with a deep exhale.

Spencer pulled Y/N into him, stroking a hand down her back as she trembled. "Such a good girl, sweetheart. Always do so good for me. My beautiful girl. I love you so much," he whispered reverently, holding her while she came down from her high.

"I love you, Spence. With everything that I am," Y/N whispered back, lifting herself up enough to kiss him tenderly.

It took a few minutes before either of them could get up to get cleaned up, with Spencer guiding her to the bathroom with a hand wrapped around her waist to steady her. Their shower was spent murmuring apologies and praises to each other, the both of them expressing just how much they loved each other between soapy passes of the loofah and tired giggles as they washed away the remnants of the night. And as he wrapped her into a towel, Spencer couldn't help the grin that broke across his face at her quiet words.

"You can absolutely sleep in the bed tonight—just as long as you change the sheets first."

Continued A/N's: I still have a few requests to fill after this and then I'll be posting some original ideas before I open requests back up! Thank you guys so much for the requests, they've been so much fun to write and I hope you guys are enjoying them as much as I am! :') <3

REMINDER: I do NOT give permission for my work to be re-uploaded to any other platforms (c.ai, Tiktok, ao3, etc.) under any circumstances. If you'd like to translate my work, then please ask me before doing so. I know it sounds whiny, but I (as well as many other fanfic writers) spend so much time on these and it's genuinely not okay to take credit for work that isn't yours. It's insulting and completely unnecessary. If I do see my work uploaded anywhere without explicit permission, I WILL say something.

[endawn]

going back to a previous thought of being able to speak to hunger when pax sleeps. it working its way to the forefront while its not being as actively suppressed. this doesn’t happen often, but it will on occasion. the saving grace is…it can’t do much without waking [pax] back up.

[blkkizzat]

YAKUZA!TOJI X MILF!READER —aka toji on some joe goldberg bullshit

🎞️ 𝐒𝟏 𝐄𝟐:

⟢ rating: mdni 18+ stalking, yuji is yakuza!sukuna x reader child, toji is still delulu af, size-kink, milf kink, breeding kink, voyeurism, dilf!toji, dissociative sexual fantasies, sukuna is an asshole, masturbation, killing fantasies, obsessive tendencies, heavy manipulation, brooding, yandere fluff, cute kid megumi.

⟢ episode run time: 𝟖.𝟕𝐤 ⟢ episode list: m.list ⟢ subscriber access: please comment on m.list to be tagged, rather than individual episodes as its easier for me to track. ⟢ director's note: e2 is here!! sorry for the initial issues! i hope you guys enjoy as we go deeper into toji's delulu, it's so much fun writing from his perspective. i feel like with each epi he only gets worse, hfsvsdjkfhvbsdj. he's still daddy tho.

The sky has since fallen completely dark, but the city lights of Tokyo still twinkle brightly in the distance, drowning out any stars. The light pollution still appears beautiful though, as a comforting beacon of civilization in the surrounding darkness.

The atmosphere, which had previously been so violently vibrant, has now quieted to a muted calm as the world slows down, whipping cool night air around Toji’s tense frame on his balcony.

However, it does fuck all to soothe the seared edges of his temper. 

Nor does the serene scene do anything to calm the heated exchange still taking place inside your condo.

Your domestic dispute with Sukuna fiercely rages on.

Toji savors the last few puffs of his cigarette before discarding it and quickly lighting another. Chain smoking is his last salvation, lest the persistent urge to protect you completely overtakes him and causes him to act rashly.

The current state of the organization had suspicions at an all-time high. Toji couldn’t afford that considering who he was dealing with and what all could come in between the two of you should he err from the plan. 

Closing his eyes, Toji manages to regain control by doing the one thing that never failed to pacify him—thinking of you, of course. 

Both the sweet poison and the bitter antidote to Toji, you do nothing but constantly plague his psyche. 

But perhaps it’s that he knows you need him as much as he realizes he needs you. 

Over the course of time he had watched you, it didn’t take long for Toji to conclude that you only chose to remain with Sukuna for the security he provided. Preservation and the obligations of motherhood were the only logical motivations you could have.

It was glaringly apparent that Sukuna didn’t love you. 

Even a blind man could see the truth of it.

Sukuna only visited you on rare occasions, when yakuza business took him beyond the central city limits, as Toji’s own surveillance and connections had revealed. 

And whenever he did show up, it usually led to arguments between the two of you. If you had indeed loved Sukuna at one point you weren’t foolish enough to hold onto any of those illusions now. 

Moreover, the subject of illusions—Toji had been privy to having many fantasies of you.

Weathering away at the stone around his heart he strived his whole life to build—only to then rebuild once again after his late wife—addictingly sweet visions of you so swiftly demolish the walls he set in place.

Toji allowed himself many hopeful images of what life could be like with you. 

A life of ease. 

That said, it would never be too easy. 

Toji is still a yakuza himself and he knew the organization would never let him walk away entirely. 

Nevertheless, his role was somewhat unique—an executive assassin was almost unheard of. Toji took on as many kills as he did as a way to numb and distract himself, not because it was required of him or he couldn’t pass it off to another. And ever since he’d laid eyes on you he had no desire to busy himself with anything other than you.

Toji takes pleasure in knowing he wouldn’t ever have to be away from you for long too. 

As it happens, he already owns a spacious five-bedroom home just outside Tokyo in Chiba—the previous home he had hoped to share with his late wife. Toji had planned to surprise her with it once she left the hospital.

Yet instead of leaving the hospital with Megumi’s mother by his side, Toji had walked out alone—only an urn in hand. Numbed to the world, he tightly gripped the sleek black urn that mockingly held her remains—along with his shattered hopes.

And as a result, no one had even crossed the threshold since the purchase was made.

But that would change though now that there would be the four of you to breathe life into the home.

Who else could give you that kind of life but Toji? 

Certainly not Sukuna.

Toji would give you everything if you let him—but you weren’t an easy conquest, something he learned quickly as you prove it to him time and time again.

Toji recalls your second encounter with sharpened clarity.

⟡

It had taken Toji only two weeks to meticulously study your habits. The encounter had been carefully orchestrated, but despite his planning, the day hadn’t quite unfolded as Toji anticipated to say the least.

Parked down on the block of your typical walking path, Toji sat in his blacked-out Mercedes, keeping an eye on his rear-view mirror monitoring your approach. The mirror also showed Megumi, who was peacefully dozing in the backseat.

Heh, yeah he’d made damn sure to have the kid with him back then too.

Hardly older than 18 months and already a lady-killer, Megumi never failed to melt the heart of any woman who laid eyes upon his abundant chubby-cheeked cuteness. 

Not like Toji had ever really needed to expend the effort before now. He knew just a mere look from him could get panties leaking, but you’d be harder to conquer than that. 

Toji would enjoy taking his time, which if he thought about previously he would have deemed odd—he’d never been one to hold himself back or take his time with a woman.  

Not anymore. 

Not since her at least. 

But the agony that had accompanied thoughts of his late wife had dulled considerably since he’d first started observing you. 

A bonus of that being it no longer hurts as much to see Megumi—not when he would picture you rocking him in your arms.

Toji had even gone so far as to believe that she would have approved, that she would have liked you. He imagined she would have gladly chosen you to take care of both Megumi and him if she’d known you.

A familiar form appears in the rear-view mirror and Toji knows it’s game time.

Here you were, a reward for his diligence in tracking your habits, right on schedule.

Your features sparkled in the summer sun as you pushed Yuji along in his stroller, humming a tune while the child giggled along clapping. 

The kid’s bubbly deposition had to come from you, Toji decided—surely none of it could have come from, nor been influenced by, Sukuna. 

Toji wondered if you could even make a somber child like Megumi smile.

Biding in-wait until you passed, Toji snatched up Megumi and kept far enough distance so as to not alarm you of his presence. 

His original plan had been to exit the car as you passed by and walk into the store together. But that all changed when Toji got the first glimpse of what you were wearing. 

Toji would avoid being noticed by you, but your attire made it near impossible for him not to notice you.

The dress you wore was barely made modest enough to wear in public by the cardigan you draped over it. A less curvaceous woman could have likely pulled it off without turning a head.  

However on your body, the way the thin loose fabric hung off your shape as it clung onto the moist areas of perspiration like a second skin—was fucking obscene. 

Especially as despite your continued efforts, the crack of your ass kept gobbling up your sundress no matter how many times you subtly tried to yank it free.

Toji bet your ass could swallow his cock up just as well. 

Damn.

Toji wished the walkup to the store was longer. 

He’d never been one for prayer, but he would have started if whatever God deemed it fit right at that very moment to send an unanticipated gust of wind. 

Your lack of panty line had his mind racing as to whether you wore a thong or were just slutty enough to be outside bare-assed in a short sundress mid-afternoon.

The green of your sundress matched his eyes too and Toji took it as another sign from the universe, he was on the right path by pursuing you like this.

You were doing this intentionally just to tease him, weren't you? 

Hoping he’d see you like this and to tempt him into taking a peek, right?

Entering the grocery store, Megumi seated in-cart, Toji continued tailing you as you shopped.

True to the homemaker he previously confirmed you to be, you picked up mostly fresh produce, prime cuts of meat from the butcher, and some pantry baking items. 

You were capable of more than just the frozen dinners he’d be more accustomed to if not for his Nanny’s cooking. She was a decent enough cook too—but she wasn’t you. 

Nothing she cooked smelled a fraction as good as the mostly foreign, but appetizing, smells that wafted from under your door to fill the hall with warm spices.

The food you would make him, once Toji gets you settled in your new home, would definitely be much better. 

You were truly perfect, well nearly so.

After tailing you down a few aisles, Toji suspects the one minor flaw you may have is you appeared to be the absentminded type. 

How else could you be disregarding his overbearing presence as he continuously had put himself in your line of vision? Restlessness overtook Toji as he waited for you to look up and catch his eye, giving him a casual opening.

You had been too consumed with your phone to notice his attempts— which if he would guess, wouldn’t be successful anytime soon. 

Grumbling, Toji had to take matters into his own hands if he wanted to shop with you at all.

Easy enough too, you were already so carelessly distracted.

Momentarily taking his eyes off you, Toji calculated how long it would take you to reach the end of the aisle. So as you moved from one aisle to the next, he casually nudged his cart into your path, creating a T-bone collision that made it look like you were at fault for leaving the aisle.

The bang was jolting enough to finally draw your attention.

“OH MY GOD! I WASN’T WATCHING WHERE I WAS GOING! I’M SO SORRY– I-I …Fushiguro?!”

Heh, took ya long enough to notice. 

“Well, hey doll. Long time no see, ma.”

A flagrant lie. 

Toji had seen you nearly everyday—you just hadn’t seen him. 

He could tell you were flustered and embarrassed as multiple heads in the store had turned towards the two of you from the rattling collision. 

You couldn’t apologize enough to Toji who was on cloud nine from your attention focused on him.

And as Toji had predicted, your attention was soon stolen by the black spikey haired baby boy seated in his cart.

“Oh wow Fushiguro!!—” 

“—Toji, ma.”

A smirk bloomed across his features as you rolled your eyes at him, continuing your affections towards Megumi.

“—I remember you said you had a son but I didn’t know you had a little mini-me, he’s so adorable!”

Toji didn’t fail to notice the double—no triple, take you had given between himself and Megumi. 

He also couldn't help but see how your big ass tiddies looked—like they wanted to bounce right outta that sundress and into his mouth—as you bent down to get a closer look at Megumi. 

No bra too?

Oh, you’d surely be the death of him.

But Toji's cock wasn’t the only part of him swelling, his heart rate sped like crazy just from watching you fuss over Megumi so apologetically—much like a loving mom soothing her own child at the sight of him sniffling back tears. 

For a moment, Yuji’s giggling drew Toji’s attention as the boisterous kid seemed to think it was some sort of ride. Needing no comfort at all, Yuji merrily squealed with laughter at the impact, continuing to stuff rice puff snacks into his little face.

The distraction kept Toji from warning you not to pick up Megumi and before he Toji knew what was happening— you scooped Megumi up. Settling Megumi into your arms, Toji noted you cradled him with the same joy radiating from you as you did Yuji—and much to Toji’s shock—Megumi let you.

It went without saying that Megumi wasn't the friendliest kid. 

Toji suspected he had inherited that from him, along with his trademark scowl. The little terror was known to pitch a screaming fit if someone other than Toji or his nanny picked him up. 

However, in your hold, Megumi appeared calm—angel-like even—as far as Toji was concerned.

More curious than upset, Megumi's tears dried at the corners of his eyes as he reached out to gently bop your nose with his tiny fist.

“Aye! Manners, kiddo.”

Toji chides Megumi, but inside he is amazed by the interaction. 

Returning the gesture, you softly boop Megumi's nose with the pad of your finger, causing him to grab it in defiance, as you offered him softly whispered apologies for upsetting him.

This served to confirm in Toji’s mind the place you belonged in his life. 

He couldn’t be wrong about you. 

You were perfect.

Everything was aligning better than he could have hoped for.

“No harm done ma, Megumi can take a lick. Just like his daddy.” 

You shook your head at Toji and gently rubbed soothing circles on Megumi’s back, cooing at him.

“Oh? So you’re growing up strong like your daddy, huh, Megumi?”

Megumi tilted his head slightly, his thumb resting gently in his mouth.

“Just don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re smooth like he does.”

You shot Toji a teasing smirk, immediately resulting in a half chub pressed against his suit pants.

Now you were… teasing him? 

Oh, you had no fucking idea just how smooth Toji could be when he wanted. And Toji planned to put 3 more kids inside of you soon too, just as smoothly.

Those facts withstanding, Toji could tell his son hadn’t quite made up his mind about you yet. Megumi just blinked at you, but the fact that he wasn't screaming his head off was good enough for Toji.

“Don’t let the blank stare fool you, ma, he likes you. Trust, ya would know if he didn’t. Just takes him a while to warm up to most folks.”

You gave Toji another playful smile.

“Hmm, and wonder who he got that from?”

Primal urges surged in his veins as Toji wanted nothing more than to grab you in his arms at that moment, although Toji settled for countering with a smirk of his own.

“We’re not that bad ma—once you get to know us.”

Toji flashed a toothy grin at you, amused by the upward pull at the corners of your lips as you tried and failed, not to be entertained by him. 

You gently set Megumi back down in the cart, smoothing down his onesie and safely buckling him in before turning back to Toji.

“I’m sure Megumi is a perfectly sweet kid, who just needs to come into his own a bit.”

“Eh? And whadda ‘bout me, mamas?”

“The jury is still out on you—Fushiguro.”

“—Toji,” he corrected once again—and again you responded by rolling your pretty eyes under those long thick lashes of yours.

Oh, Toji had just the thing for that ass since you liked to roll your eyes back that much. 

Toji imagined how deeply they’d be lodged into your head once he stuffed you full of his fat cock—all in one go—effectively pushing your guts up into your chest. 

Yeah, he had it bad for you—real bad.

Unable to stop the many intrusive sexual thoughts that would spring in his mind just from being close enough to smell the scent of your sweet vanilla and jasmine perfume.

Yet Toji couldn’t let the chance pass to press his limits with you.

“So—How about ya give me y’er number so we can set up a playdate, eh? Since ya think Megumi’s such a sweet kid and all, mamas.” 

Caught off guard, you looked away from Toji in contemplation, chewing on your lip.

“Hm... I-I don't think that’s such a good idea, Fushiguro.”

You shift your stance a bit, taking on a defensive posture. 

Tch, fuck. You’d be harder to crack than Toji originally thought. 

Plus you seemed to still have some loyalty to Sukuna, even if you held no love for him.

But that was all fine, Toji calculates—a good thing even.

That just meant you would be all the more loyal to him once he did have you.  

Thinking on his feet, Toji subtly switches tactics, playing dumb as he lifts a brow.

“Toji, doll, but ya know what I do for work. Think I gots time to be babysitting brats? What, s’not a good idea for the nanny to bring Gumi by?”

“Oh! Of course the nanny! Yeah that’s fine, erm, that's… sorry. I thought—”

“—thought, what mamas? You tryna get a playdate with me too? ”

Toji couldn’t hold back his laughter as your eyes widened in shock. 

Embarrassment washed over you like a tsunami, intensified by Toji's teasing. You hid half your face with one hand while the other gripped the grocery cart handle so tightly that Toji half-expected it to snap off.

“Kiddin’ ma—lighten up a ‘lil eh? Ya left y’erself wide open for that one, doll.”

Sighing in defeat, you finally conceded to his charms, exchanging numbers with him solely so his nanny could coordinate the playdates.

“I see you think you got jokes, Fushiguro.”

Toji relished the win as your smile returned. 

“Ya know I do—and it's Toji, mama.”

With that shift, Toji was pleased to see you gradually lower your guard around him, the ice between you started to melt. You continued your shopping together, Toji casually picking up a few items, occasionally seeking your advice on what to feed Megumi.

Truth be told, he had no idea. The nanny always handled all the shopping.

Subtly taking the lead in the conversation, Toji casually provoked you into revealing more about yourself. Details he couldn’t piece together—like where you grew up, what your life was like before Japan and what brought you here—all which he cataloged meticulously in his mind. 

Toji wanted to ask how a smart girl planning to be a doctor with a full-ride exchange program scholarship to Tokyo University got knocked up by a dumb fuckhead like Ryomen Sukuna—but the very last thing he wanted you to think about when you were with him was Sukuna.  

However, each piece of information he learned of you convinced him more of how much he wanted you—

“Oh yeah, Fushiguro! Despite what you said, I actually managed to make a friend!”

–all to himself.

Tch, a fuckin’ friend?

Toji’s demeanor darkened, but you didn’t notice—too busy humming to yourself while checking apples for bruises in the produce section.

Not like this information came as a particular surprise to him, Toji's eyes narrowed as he could guess exactly who it was right away.

Toji had seen the tall raven-haired woman whose afternoon jogs in the park so-conveniently aligned with your walks with Yuji. You both would exchange pleasantries as she admired your son, and you her commitment to fitness, that you would say you never seemed to have the time for these days. 

Yet your interactions from what he had seen never ventured much beyond that. 

Although Toji would normally oblige you a few friends, having a friend here would complicate his plans.

The women of The Nursery up until now had done such a good job in isolating you all on their own without him having to lift a finger. Toji was relying on their catty caste system to ultimately drive you into his arms, as the only person you could rely on.

Toji couldn’t have one of them ruin that. 

He needed to know more about this ‘friend’ of yours. 

How well have you gotten to know each other? 

And in what ways?

The fact that this development happened right under his watchful eye, without him knowing the depth of it, had Toji cross to say the least.

Thankfully, your isolation had you starved for an attentive ear, so you were eager to spill your guts about your new friend to him. 

And as the good future husband he’d be to you, Toji was sure to listen now as he would in the future—or at least appear like he was most of the time.

“She’s new like me! Well, not new I suppose, but back for a stay here with her fiancé until things calm down due to all the commotion happening overseas now.”

So that woman did intend to leave. 

Good. 

The sooner the better so Toji’s own hand wouldn’t have to be forced and your little ‘friend’ could be spared. 

Toji couldn’t have anything nor anyone coming in between the two of you—no matter the consequences from who they were associated with.

“She doesn’t have any kids so I’ve been giving her tips and sharing how I dealt with Yuji this past year. She always seems to be busy though, so we haven’t really had the chance to really do anything—but she calls me often.”

Toji’s teeth clenched. 

They dared to make phone contact even?

And bad girl—you’d been so eager to give this stranger, who had no respect for boundaries, your number but you hesitated with him?

What did Toji need to do to show you he was the only one with your best interests in mind?

Toji was the only one you should have confided in and the only one you should trust.

“Heh, well isn’t that nice, ma.”

Toji would have to figure out how to deal with the problem of your new friend at a later time. He didn’t want to spend the fleeting moments he had remaining with you brooding, as it was sure to soon show on his face and sour the mood.

Pivoting the subject back to just the two of you, Toji inquired about the baked goods he’s still owed. He could tell you’d forgotten already, but he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity he had to taste your cooking. 

It would keep him sated long enough until he could actually taste you.

“Ya know, I usually don’t like sweets though.”

Toji told you when you asked his favorite dessert and you were genuinely determined you could bake him something he’d like.

“Hmm, you know I can make a mean fudge brownie! I make them with semi-sweet chocolate too. Plus, since I moved here I also cut some sugar and added matcha to the recipe, so they wouldn’t be too sweet. they are so gooey they melt in your mouth.”

“Heh, yeah—I bet you would too, ma.”

This time, you didn’t suppress your amused cackle as you shook your head and pushed your cart forward, still overall ignoring his persistent flirtations even if you were growing more comfortable with them.

Toji sensed the playful personality you’d kept tightly wrapped under all those layers from being with Sukuna, whose cruel sense of humor would only serve to crush yours. 

Toji couldn’t wait to be the one to fully draw it back out of you.

“Ugh—boy, you play too much, Fushiguro!”

Toji chuckled, pushing his cart along after yours—he could tell your cheeks were still burning though. 

“—Toji, ma.”

When you both finally reached the register, Toji checked out first, slyly sliding his card to cover your groceries as well.

You were completely unaware though, having left your cart with him in line while you rushed Yuji to the bathroom.

Yuji, being the growing boy that he was, had devoured his rice snacks too quickly and promptly spat them back up all over himself.

Feeling smug in his chivalry, Toji anticipated seeing an even sweeter smile when you returned to find your groceries already paid for.

Yet, he’d seemingly made another miscalculation with you. 

As when you returned to see your groceries bagged and paid for, you kept Yuji in your arms as you placed your bags of groceries in the stroller itself, storming out without a word leaving behind a dumbfounded Toji.

Toji was more than puzzled as you seemed furious at the fact Toji had done what he deemed to be ‘a-nice-thing-any-woman- would-want’. 

The fuck happened?!

Shifting Megumi and own bag in his arms, Toji swiftly pursued you. 

“Oy, mamas!”

You ignored him but Toji wouldn’t give up on you easily, or at all truthfully. 

You didn’t realize that yet but Toji figured you must have gathered he was bullheaded enough to keep following you until you acknowledged him once you abruptly stopped and whipped around to face him.

“What, no ‘thank you’ f’er me, ma?”

Toji watched your nostrils flare as you angrily snapped at him.

“Thank you?!” 

God, you were beautiful—even pissed off. 

Toji knows he should be more focused on what you were saying in the moment, as you heatedly gave him a piece of your mind. However, Toji zoned out momentarily, unable to quiet his internal thoughts that screamed to him how pretty you were with your brow furrowed and cheeks puffed in indignation. 

“... and furthermore you think you can just buy me, is that it?! That just because I have to rely on Sukuna and accept living in a building full of side hoes to give Yuji a comfortable life that I’ll just giggle and go along with anything like the rest of those bitches?!”

Shit. 

You were actually pissed. 

Ah fuck. 

Toji had greatly underestimated your self-worth. Once again, you proved him wrong—and once more, that pleased him. It further highlighted how you were in fact a pearl among The Nursery pigs.

“Uh, Fuck mamas, er–I-I…no–”

Yet you proved to be such a wildcard that you had Toji of all people stuttering as he scrambled to find the right words to appease you.

“—then what?! Say something!”

Toji had to think fast. 

He could see how it looked bad now, but in a rare form from his usual nature, Toji’s intentions had been honest. Toji really just wanted to show you he had the means and could take care of you—not to buy you. 

Nonetheless, Toji only had himself to blame as he’s sure you’ve heard of his far less than pious reputation. 

Ostracized or not, the bougie women of The Nursery were terrible gossips and he was sure you’d overheard plenty less than savory information about him. 

Of course, with all things considered, you’d assume the worst of him.  

But Toji had never even bothered to learn any of those bitches names, much less buy them anything—they would give him gifts.

In this situation though, to quell your anger and regain your favor, Toji devised a quick lie, hoping it would smooth things over.

“Tch,” he began, scratching the back of his head and awkwardly looking away from you.

He had to be sure to sell it. 

“No, it’s just ah, the guy—er, the teller. He assumed we were together.” 

Toji shifted his stance, adjusting a drowsy Megumi in his arms.

“So, you told him we were…?” 

You raised a brow, huffing but you didn’t seem as angry as before. Toji saw your eyes soften a bit, distracted by a cute lil' yawn from Megumi who sleepily burrowed his face deeper into his shoulder.

Good kid, lookin out for y’er old man, aye Gumi?

Seeing how Megumi was disarming you, Toji knew this was his chance at redemption. Like a gentle giant, Toji’s large hand dwarfed his son’s small head with affection pats—an action he had picked up from observing you.

“Not exactly—but I supposed it looked that way, ma. What with the kids n’ya leaving all y’er shit with me n’all. Easier to just pay then explain.”

Toji continued before you could say anything, seeing as you didn’t look quite convinced.

“Trust me, from all of what you told me today, I know ya can take care of y’erself mamas… even if you are with that asshole.”

You regarded Toji with a scrutinizing gaze for all of a minute, yet that minute felt like hours to him. 

He couldn’t remember feeling this uneasy ever—and being in the Yakuza put him in several situations in the past he thought he wouldn’t make it out of. 

“Fine,” you resigned with a sigh, “It’s whatever then.” 

Seeing that you had set aside the words you originally intended to scold him with, Toji felt that this was the best possible outcome he could have hoped for.

Well shit, bullet dodged.

“Uh yeah, well…I’ll see you around then Fushiguro—”

Toji couldn’t just let you leave like this, on uneasy terms with your frustration still evident.

“—Wait ma!”

And even more so as Toji stopped you once again.

“Look…I ain’t too big to admit I fucked up, mamas. Let me make it up to ya, yeah? Give ya a ride back so ya don’t hafta walk back in this heat?”

Toji knew you wanted to reject his offer out of pride, but he was serious now—there was no fuckin’ way he was gonna let you walk back. 

Your load of groceries was way more than your usual trips, and on top of carrying Yuji, a sizable boy for his age, your purse and pushing the stroller would turn a 15 minute walk into a 25 minute one easily. 

The scorching summer sun perched high at its peak at this time of day and the thick, near suffocating, humidity could easily turn to heat exhaustion—especially for a young toddler.

He knew you knew that too.

You’d have to accept, per Toji’s calculations.

And you did.

“Okay, why not...” 

Yet the reluctance was clear in your voice. 

The ride back began uneventfully, yet the calm atmosphere inside the car was tinged with awkwardness. 

Megumi was snoozing in his car seat, while Yuji sat on your lap in the passenger seat. 

Despite the lingering tension, Toji could see the relief on your face. The transition from the sweltering heat to the cool comfort of his air-conditioned Mercedes had clearly brought you much-needed respite.

The domesticality of it all was something Toji didn’t realize he would miss as much as he did, and it pissed him off that it was something Sukuna of all people had and took for granted. 

However, when Toji glanced over at you, he tightened his grip on the wheel with both hands.

Your actions were purely innocent as you entertained Yuji, bouncing him on your knees. However, the movement caused your sundress to lift and bunch damn near to your hips. 

Toji swore he could feel the steering wheel crack under his grip as he fought the urge to slide a hand onto your thigh, or at minimum over his soon-to-be-bricked-up cock. 

Fuck. Get it together. 

But there was nothing Toji could have done to stop his dissociative daydreams, which had grown increasingly vivid since laying eyes on you, from consuming him. 

The sleek hardness of the leather steering wheel morphed to be malleable like the inner flesh of your thighs. Toji gripped the wheel tighter, which only made the visualization of how soft your skin would be in contrast to the texture of his calloused hand more apparent. The same hand which would so graciously sink into the warm plush of your skin with reassuring squeezes. 

Finally, Toji would also get his answer as to whether or not you had been wearing panties. Toji’s wandering hand would only need to travel up the tiniest bit higher to press his knuckles right against your core.

And when it came down to it, whether you had them on or not mattered little to Toji—regardless of the result, he still intended to bully his thick middle knuckle directly into your clit. 

Toji would take satisfaction in keeping his main attention on the road as he engaged you in casual conversation—all the while drawing slow absent minded circles around your bud. He would only pause if he felt the lil’ thing swell up enough—to the point where the soft clicking sounds from your slick could be heard if there wasn’t music playing. 

He’d edge you with subtle, yet incessant, pleasure all the way home. Seeing just how much of his teasing your messy cunt could handle.

Toji's mind was stuck so badly in-between your thighs that he’d actually been caught off guard when you finally broke the silence, eagerly asking about his playlist as “How Do U Want It” pumped through the car speakers. 

And that's how Toji managed to worm his way back into your good graces.

You seemed genuinely surprised to discover he was also a fan of ’90s hip-hop when he told you he was. 

Of course, being a fan of ’90s hip-hop wasn’t a lie—but he had heard this particular song playing from your apartment before, so he made sure to add it to a playlist for whenever he’d be able to get you into his car or apartment. 

Much to Toji’s enjoyment, before long you were laughing again as he attempted—very, very poorly—to rap along to some of the lyrics in English. 

Pleased to have won you back over, Toji purposely missed at least two turns just to keep you in his car a bit longer.

If the day had ended there, he would have considered it a win. 

But, of course, with his luck, things would prove to be anything but victorious.

Naturally, once you both returned, Toji carried your bags upstairs. However, that didn’t stop him from playfully teasing you.

Toji joked that—‘Miss Independent didn’t want him paying for her groceries, but she sure as hell didn’t mind him carrying them’—and was rewarded again with the soft snorts of your laughter.

It’s not like you didn’t have your hands full though, cradling both Megumi and Yuji, who were now fast asleep—one on each of your shoulders.

It was…cute.

Fuck, when even was the last time Toji even thought something was cute? 

You were cute though, especially with the kids. 

That he didn’t mind admitting. 

Toji regretted that he didn't snap a picture of the moment. He knew it would likely be over soon.

Heh, maybe it didn’t have to be though.

With both boys asleep in your arms, Toji considered the likelihood of coaxing you to invite him in. You’d surely need help carrying both Yuji and your bags inside—but he didn’t want to push his luck, especially after he had already majorly fucked things up with you once today.

Although, Toji realized you wouldn’t need any convincing when you looked at him with a kind smile that reached all the way into your bright eyes. That was all the encouragement he needed to step across the threshold, technically uninvited, as he held the door open for you.

Toji would have entered too, had the energy not immediately shifted. 

“—and just what the fuck is this?”

Motherfucker.

Down the hallway, Sukuna had since stepped out of the elevator with his right hand, Uraume, close behind. Sukuna appeared already agitated, barking rushed orders over the phone. 

But Sukuna abruptly ended the call the moment he saw Toji about to enter the condo with you. And as if he owned the entire building himself, Sukuna exuded obnoxious dominance in every stride as he approached. 

Toji may have outranked him but Sukuna rivaled Toji in both size and presence, sauntering over to loom behind you with an unmistakable air of possessiveness.

Tch, Sukuna shouldn’t even be here. 

Toji had miscalculated—a rare miscalculation, but a big one nonetheless—what he gets, he supposed, for trusting a less than thurough intel source. 

According to his, now incorrect intel, Sukuna was supposed to be in Shinjuku at headquarters. The fact that he was here, interfering with his time he had so meticulously planned with you, infuriated Toji. 

Shit—he hadn’t wanted Sukuna to see you two together just yet.

Despite Toji being unable to hide his disdain, he offered a respectful nod to Sukuna, as was customary between fellow upper-ranked yakuza. 

Sukuna returned the gesture in-kind, along with a smug grin that had plastered itself across his face.

Tension saturated the air and Toji noticed that your once-gentle smiles had faded, replaced by wary glances exchanged between him and Sukuna. 

Toji’s hand causally brushed yours as you carefully handed Megumi back to him before you faced Sukuna.

He noticed you running over the spot on your hand where your skin had touched.

Did you also feel the electricity between the two of you burn your skin?

Toji had.

“If I knew you were coming, you could have picked me up from the store, Ryo! Then I wouldn’t have had to be a bother to Fushiguro...”

You could never be a bother to Toji.

Looking you over, Toji scrutinized your every movement. He knew you were merely trying to shift focus and keep the peace—but to do it for him? 

After everything today, and how he unintentionally put his foot in his mouth with his actions?

Were—were you falling for him, already?

The slightly strained smile on your face still looked sweet enough, and Toji might have mistaken it for genuine—if not for the real warmth you’d shown him just moments before Sukuna’s arrival. 

You really had saved your smiles just for him, isn’t that right mama?

Toji’s heart beats wildly at the thought, however his good temperaments were greatly diminished as he noted how the light in your eyes dimmed.

Seeing you shrink yourself to answer to Sukuna, no matter how insignificant—pissed him off.

Well, at least thanks to him, you wouldn’t have to suffer Sukuna much longer.

As Toji had expected, Sukuna didn’t try to suppress his asshole-like nature, even towards you. Your attempted olive branch had been rebuffed by the heavy hand on your shoulder. It was evident Sukuna was unconcerned with your excuses as he focused solely on Toji.

“Ah Fushiguro, I see you’ve met my son and his mother.”

Even though Sukuna had failed to give you a title, the intent behind his words and demeanor was unmistakable: 

Sukuna owned you.

So that's how it is, eh? 

Toji couldn’t say he was surprised.

Although his possessive nature wasn't driven by affection for you, Sukuna simply never liked to share his toys. Sukuna must have thought you were just another plaything for Toji, well aware of what Toji got up to typically at The Nursery, 

Eh, and were you any other woman, Sukuna would have been right. 

But you were never toy to Toji, he wanted much more than just to fuck you, even before he realized it himself. 

Toji would be lying if he said that he wasn’t looking forward to that too though. 

“Heh, we’ve already had our introductions before, isn’t that right…?” 

Toji was pleased by the flushed, wide-eyed expression on your face when he dared to address you by your first name—just as he was pleased that Sukuna’s smirk faltered into a scowl at Toji’s bold familiarity with you.

Toji mainly did it to piss Sukuna off. However seeing you flustered, knowing he could have an effect on you even in front of Sukuna, had been a much sweeter treat. 

“Oh? Then she must know not to pay heed to old roosters who are now forced to spend more time in the hen house than running the farm these days. Although, a rooster who cannot crow effectively is of little use anywhere else, I suppose.”

Toji’s expression held firm onto the casual smugness he wore, but inside he was boiling. 

Toji knew exactly what Sukuna was referring to.

Since his late wife passed, Toji had been only sent for specialized jobs that required his immense powerhouse abilities. Although he could easily air out a room of 20 men, Toji was considered to be more of a loose cannon than ever before.

Simply not caring—Toji took his anger out on more than just his targeted kills with no second thoughts given to the collateral damage of the environment he was in nor the civilian casualties around. Thus Toji made the damage control messier and harder on the organization in cases where more precision was needed. 

Some would have called that a liability and had him dealt with, yet the bigger liability still would be trying to ‘deal with’ Toji in the first place.��Many had tried over the years for one reason or another—and it had been a guaranteed death sentence for each one of them. 

Regardless, Toji had remained dog loyal to the organization though, with little care for power or status, even though it came to him anyway. 

As long as he was paid, Toji had been content—and in turn, so had the organization. This resulted in Toji mostly being able to do as he pleased, even when he went a little rogue at times. 

“Rooster, eh—”

Toji knew Sukuna’s condescending smug attitude stemmed from the special privileges he’d been given to sit in on the executive meetings to solve the current unrest of having to do with whatever old fuck of an executive had gotten himself offed.

Regardless, it could still be seen as a loss of status not being in those meetings. More importantly—Toji’s rogue behaviors could easily be manipulated into a target on his back should Sukuna assert he’d been a part of the internal treason.

Toji knew he had to tread cautiously with Sukuna, but Toji still did not feel threatened in the least.

“—I’d like to think of myself here as more of a fox though, it suits me better don’t ya think?” 

Toji’s gaze had briefly met your own, and you quickly turned away, his grin growing even wider.

But then again, if Sukuna wanted to think Toji was down and out—Toji would let him. 

It would work to Toji’s advantage in the long run with securing you as his anyway. Toji wasn’t worried as he had nothing to do with that old geezer getting wacked and he was glad they’d left him out of it.

Besides, Sukuna being brought into the inner circle could have just as easily been a way to keep a closer watch on him. After all, Sukuna wasn’t an executive—and while Toji was, his role was to eliminate threats, not uncover them. It made more sense for Toji to stay away than for Sukuna to be involved at all.

All which was a net win for Toji, as he found himself with more opportunities to spend time with you, while the organization conveniently kept Sukuna occupied.

With a swift, smooth motion, Toji bent down to retrieve the stray apple that had rolled from your grocery bag. He polished it against his suit jacket before handing it back to you with a sly smile.

“Ya know, I am just next door lil’ hen. This ol’fox is still capable of being a good neighbor. I’ll always have plenty of sugar for you too, should you ever find yourself in need…”

Toji turns to Sukuna.

“...Especially since Sukuna has his hands full on the upper levels of the farm these days, eh? S’a wonder at all how ya manage to visit the hens on this floor too.”

Toji watched with amusement as your eyes widened at the blatant innuendos given right in front of Sukuna, who merely was left growling as his cell audibly and persistently vibrated.

Sukuna deemed the call more important than the coded banter with Toji, as he all but dragged you and Yuji into the condo—leaving the groceries for Uraume to bring in.

Although he had won the battle of the day, Toji regretted his actions later that evening when he inevitably lost the war.

Sukuna made sure to let it be known Toji lost too, as Sukuna had fucked you against the adjoining wall of the master bedroom so hard the entire wall shook.

Your pained yet pleasure-filled moans seeped through the thick insulation of the walls.

Using you like you were just one of his toys, Sukuna was quite literally pounding the point home that you belonged to him with every forceful quake.

Point taken, but what angered Toji more was Sukuna was being too rough with you.

Toji could have sworn he heard you plead for Sukuna to slow down and the irony of his concern was not lost on Toji. 

Toji was never known for being a particularly gentle lover himself, but your body had been through enough—you’re a mother now. You deserved better than the careless treatment of some cheap plastic fuck doll. 

Nevertheless, despite the roughness, it was clear from the diluted moans through the insulation—you had liked it.

Sukuna was still making you cum. 

And oh god, did Toji ever want to prove to your precious pussy that his thick inches would fuck her even harder if that’s what she asked of him.

Toji had to repress a frustrated groan when he realized he was painfully hard. 

Your damped cries had Toji palming himself for relief before he even knew what he was doing.

Yet for all the perverse arousal he felt, Toji did feel some semblance of guilt. 

His taunting of Sukuna ensured that this punishment was a lesson for the both of you.

But—Fuck. 

Toji couldn’t deny his sadistic side.

He was a killer after all. 

Even the distressed tremor of your euphoric moans sounded absolutely heavenly to him, and it wasn’t long before Toji fumbled with his own belt to drag out his heavily leaking cock. 

Thick humid breaths left Toji as he hissed from having thumbed off the viscous pre-gathering on his redden tip. 

Toji slowly spread it down his pulsing length, shuddering. 

His frustrations at not being the one touching you—not being the one making you shiver and moan, are only rivaled by his frustration of this being the first time he’s had any real fire in his loins since he’s met you.

The fierce desire to cum was overtaking his more rational brain or self-control as he’d hadn’t been this hard in weeks, even when he’d rub one out from watching old security footage of you.

Wanting any semblance of contact, Toji placed his free hand on the wall—on the exact spot he imagined Sukuna had your cheek pressed against. 

With closed eyes, Toji pictured himself cupping your face, thumb smoothing away any stray hairs or tears while he is the one thrusting into you, filling you.

His large hand encompassed his length while he thrusted into his rough palm, faster now that the speed of the thumping had increased—signaling Sukuna was close to finishing you.

Swallowing a frustrated roar, your muted cries for Sukuna through the wall brought Toji out of his fantasies and back to the harsh reality that Sukuna was the one balls deep in your tight milf pussy—while he was only in his own hand.

Nevertheless, Toji was determined to cum and even more so, determined to soon be the one making you scream in pleasure. 

If you were this loud now—you’d be much louder on his cock. 

Toji leaned in even closer, resting his head on his forearm against the wall, the wall that still shuddered with the force of Sukuna ruthlessly rearranging your guts. 

Forcing himself to dissociate once more, so he could finish—Toji squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he bit his lip to the point of drawing blood. In the daydream, in Toji’s mind, it wasn’t the coarse skin of his palm that stroked his cock but the silky, wet heat of your cozy lil’ cunt. 

Toji convinced himself that the sloshing noises that rang throughout his bedroom were from him stretching your pussy to his shape as his fat tip slammed against your cervix— and not from the embarrassing amount of pearlescent fluid spilling over his hand. 

He hadn’t even cum yet—a testament to how backed up he truly was. 

Toji should have been ashamed at the way his girth had pulsed in his palm, but he was so close, and so determined to finish with you, there was no room for ego.

Picking up speed to nearly the point of chafing, Toji jerked his cock feverishly. Toji came when he heard the loudest moan yet vibrate through the wall, and the banging had ceased with a final jarring shake. 

Rolling back his eyes, Toji released his load all over the wall of his master bedroom, finally sated. Toji had allowed himself a strangled groan of relief, once he believed you both were no longer near the wall.

Panting and half-delirious with euphoric release, Toji’s eyes followed the trail of his thick cum splatter slowly trickling down the wall as his once engorged cock deflated in his hand. 

With a curled lip and narrowed eyes, the white fluid turns red in his mind’s eye. 

A dark chuckle escaped his lips and Toji fantasized what it would be like to put a slug right between Sukuna’s eyes. Toji’s large load pooled onto the floor in a similar fashion to how Sukuna’s brains would leak, spilling out as it also formed a similarly morbid pool of fluids.

Yet even despite his more ruthless inclinations, upon inhaling a deep breath, Toji felt an unfamiliar zen wash over him.

Killing was just business to Toji, and he couldn’t recall the last time the thought of offing someone had brought him this much pleasure or any semblance of peace.

Yet the fact revealed itself to him then, in that moment—the truth that he’d kill everyone in this goddamn organization for you if that's what it took.

Toji knew Sukuna wasn’t one of those cowardly fucks who would just roll over while someone moved in on his woman either, so Toji would likely be forced to kill him should Sukuna ever find out his true plans for you. 

Toji sighs reluctantly—it was just a mere fantasy.

Not that he gave two fucks what would happen to Sukuna, but killing him would only fan the flames and might even cause an all-out internal war within the organization. 

A war that as the top assassin, he’d be expected to quell with force—for god knows how long.

Ultimately, that would mean a loss for Toji too.

The more involved with the organization he was, the less time he’d get with you.

Brute force was never the ideal way to deal with someone like Sukuna, and it would be better for everyone if you seemingly left him of your own accord. 

But what other choice did he have? 

He’d do what it took to get you at the end of the day.

And while these complications may have deterred a younger Toji, you, as well as the challenge itself, breathed new life into his aging bones.

That life extended into all areas of his current one. Even the usually reserved Megumi had become less quiet and more responsive to Toji with his changed demeanor and increased presence around The Nursery.

You didn’t even know how much you were fixing his life even if you were only on the outskirts of it now. 

You had made him better—so in turn, he would give you better.

Toji had no real interests, hobbies, nor friends. 

Your moving-in had been the most exciting thing that had happened to him since she had been alive and Toji had lived the last year of his life on autopilot—but no more. 

Now that he had something, well, someone that made him feel energized once again. 

⟡

The familiar trill of a cell phone—one of the many burners he used for his yakuza dealings—pulls Toji out of his thoughts once again.

His lip curls in annoyance at the person on the line.

This is why Toji likes working alone. 

Others were not only liabilities, but they were rarely ever self-sufficient. 

Always wanting to ‘check-in’ and ‘confirm the plan’, rather than just taking the damn action themselves like they were supposed to. 

But alas, the task of getting rid of Sukuna was something Toji knew he couldn’t do alone, he needed the intel source, even if they were unreliable at best. 

Toji answers the call, but keeps it brief with his clipped replies.

By the time it ended, he was already scoffing, indifferent to the voice still speaking on the other end as he cut the call short and hung up as soon as he got the info he needed. 

Shoving the phone into his back pocket, Toji sparks another cigarette.

His 'partner' had so kindly reminded him of the loose ends he still needed to tie up.

But that could wait. 

For now, Toji remained where he was, stationed on his balcony—ready to stay out here all night for the small chance you may need him.

©𝐛𝐥𝐤𝐤𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐚𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐟𝐱, 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞.

⟢ end credits: please comment, like and reblog and lmk what you think! I'd really appreciate the feedback as this fic has been my baby working on it.

i will likely end up completing another work while i work on episode 3 as my adhd ass usually needs to break it up in order not to get writers block and unlike e2 i had only done the outline so far, so if i post something else in the meantime just know i'm still working on episode 3!

[hellobykittys]

sooo i have a idea if you want obvi, i think about Lando's girlfriend who is best friend with the 2 Lilys and not with Alexandra or Francisca and Rebecca? I think these last 3 are like idk antipatic but not antipatic...(Not hate for they, its my personally opinion)

𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 ✦ 𝐋𝐍⁴

SUMMARY: You're going to accompany your boyfriend on a racing weekend and you're taking the opportunity to spend time with your friends. NOTES: English is not my first language! I hope I understood this request correctly. PAIRING: Lando Norris x Reader! Girlfriend. WARNING: girls meet and some fluff. WC: 1.6k

MASTERLIST

Y/N wasn’t a constant presence during race weekends. Balancing the demands of college with the travel needed to accompany her boyfriend was a challenge, but she made it a point to be there whenever she could. The Singapore GP was one of those rare occasions where she managed to escape to the paddock and cheer for Lando.

Y/N had been at the McLaren hospitality suite for a few minutes. Lando had to leave her alone to handle some team-related matters, so she settled at a table, trying to pass the time while waiting for him.

“Y/N?” A sweet voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “Why didn’t you tell me you were here already?”

She turned around to see Lily Zneimer, Oscar Piastri’s girlfriend and one of her closest friends. Ever since they met—thanks to their boyfriends’ insistence—their friendship had quickly blossomed. At first, both were too shy to make conversation, but with a little nudge from Lando and Oscar, they discovered just how much they had in common. Since then, their bond had flourished, and they stayed in touch even outside of race weekends, constantly texting and planning meet-ups.

Lily flashed a radiant smile as she walked toward the table where Y/N was sitting.

“Oh, I just got here,” Y/N replied, smiling as she stood up to greet her friend. “I sat down to wait for you and got a little distracted.”

“Should we go find Lils?”

“Lils” was the nickname they gave Lily MuniHe to avoid confusion since the two girls shared the same name.

“Let me just ask where she is,” Y/N said, quickly pulling her phone out of her bag to text Lily MuniHe, while Lily Zneimer chatted enthusiastically.

“Are you feeling good about this weekend?” Lily asked with a hopeful smile.

“Absolutely! I’d love to see a double podium for our boys,” Y/N replied, tucking her phone away after sending the message. “Imagine if one of them wins? It’d be perfect!”

“I think we’ve got a good chance,” Lily said optimistically. “The track suits them, and it’s all going to come down to today’s qualifying.”

“Ah, Lils just replied!” Y/N announced, glancing back at her phone. “She said she’s at the Williams hospitality.”

“Then let’s go find her,” Lily suggested, already grabbing Y/N by the arm. “And after that… we should grab some food. I’m starving!”

The two started walking through the paddock, exchanging laughs and comments about the drivers and the bustling atmosphere around them. Singapore’s heat was relentless, and Y/N was already regretting her choice of a long-sleeved top, even though her outfit looked amazing.

“Fingers crossed the Williams hospitality has strong air conditioning,” Lily remarked, fanning her face with her hand. “If not, I might pass out before we even get to the food stand.”

“Not if Lils convinces us to stay and gossip,” Y/N joked, laughing.

When they arrived at the Williams hospitality, they found Lily MuniHe waiting outside, looking like she was melting in the heat.

“Took you long enough!” Lils exclaimed, pointing dramatically at the sky. “I almost turned into a puddle of sweat out here!”

“That’s because you can’t stay in one place,” Lily Zneimer teased with a playful grin. “You could’ve waited for us inside.”

“Well, now that we’re here, let’s get something to eat!”

“Let’s go!” Y/N said, grabbing both of their arms and leading the way toward the VIP area’s food court.

“I was thinking,” Lils began with a mischievous grin, “why don’t we grab some snacks to try? I saw some really interesting options around here.”

“I love trying savory snacks!” Y/N said enthusiastically, her eyes lighting up. “Let’s get all the flavors.”

“I’ve never been here before,” Zneimer commented, looking around with curiosity. “But I saw some desserts that look amazing.”

They reached the snack kiosk, which was relatively quiet, making it easy to pick their choices. Soon, they sat down at a nearby table with their selections.

“It’s such a shame you two don’t come to races often,” Lils commented, pulling a funny face. “Imagine how much fun we could have if you were here more often!”

“I’d love to be at every race, but college doesn’t make it easy,” Y/N said, with a wistful smile. “Some days, it feels like there’s no time to even breathe!”

“Same here,” Lily Zneimer added, sorting through the snacks she had picked. “Between work and travel, it’s hard to keep up with everything.”

“You’re both so boring!” Lils teased with a mock pout.

“Not everyone is born with the talent for sports like you,” Y/N quipped, raising an eyebrow. “It’d be great if we were pro golfers too, but sadly, I’m just a struggling student.”

“Lucky for me, I’ve got the best of both worlds!” Lils joked, earning laughs from the other two.

The trio continued joking and chatting about silly topics, losing track of time. It was amazing how, despite the chaos of race weekends, they managed to carve out these little moments of fun.

“By the way,” Lils said with a cheeky grin, “what happened to your boyfriend’s hair? I saw him earlier, and it looked like he just rolled out of bed.”

Y/N burst out laughing and rolled her eyes. “I know! He swears it’s ‘casual style,’ but really, he’s just too lazy to use a comb.”

“At least he’s not as careless as Oscar,” Lily Zneimer chimed in, laughing. “I swear he doesn’t even know what a hairdryer is.”

“And he doesn’t care!” Y/N added, raising an eyebrow. “I try to fix it, but he always says, ‘I’m comfortable like this.’ At least he still looks good with messy hair.”

The laughter flowed naturally as the girls joked about their boyfriends’ quirks. Between the pressures of the season and the intensity of race days, these lighthearted moments were crucial to keeping their spirits up.

“Speaking of our boyfriends,” Lily MuniHe said with a mischievous smile, “how about we plan a double-date dinner? What do you think?”

“That would be perfect!” Y/N exclaimed, excitedly. “It’s been ages since we all went out together.”

“I’m in!” Lily Zneimer agreed. “I just need to talk to Osc first.”

“Osc! So cute!” Y/N teased, watching as Lily Zneimer’s cheeks turned pink.

“You can’t tease her!” Lils defended with a laugh. “You’re always calling Lando ‘Lan.’”

“Oh, but ‘Lan’ is adorable!” Y/N replied with a shrug, playfully provoking the two.

The three kept chatting animatedly as they finished their snacks, but the announcement that qualifying was about to begin had them scrambling to get up.

“Time to head back,” Y/N declared, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. “I need to see my boyfriend secure pole position today.”

Lily Zneimer and Lily MuniHe followed her, still laughing and joking as they left the VIP area. The paddock was busier now, with mechanics and engineers rushing around, but the girls’ energy remained light and cheerful.

“So, what’s your prediction for today?” Lily asked, casting a curious look at her friend.

“Easy,” Y/N replied confidently. “Lando on pole and, with a bit of luck, Oscar right behind him.”

“Alright then, but if that happens, Osc and I will pay for the dinner we’ve been planning,” Lily countered, crossing her arms with a playful smile.

“Deal!” Y/N said, laughing. “And I’ll take care of dessert.”

Both girls laughed, sealing the agreement with an exaggeratedly dramatic handshake. As they reached the entrance to the garage, they shared a quick cheek kiss before parting ways to cheer on their respective boyfriends.

As Y/N stepped into the McLaren garage, her eyes immediately found Lando. He was already suited up in his signature orange racing gear, deeply engrossed in a conversation with one of the mechanics. She approached slowly, not wanting to interrupt. The moment the mechanic walked away, Lando noticed her presence and broke into a warm smile.

“Hey, honey! You finally showed up,” he said, his tone light and affectionate. “I was starting to think I’d have to get in the car without my good luck kiss.”

“I was with the girls, just wandering around the paddock,” Y/N explained as she stopped beside him. “But, of course, I wasn’t about to let you head out without seeing you first. By the way, I made a bet with Lily—if you get pole, she’s paying for dinner.”

Lando’s grin widened, clearly pleased with her confidence. He placed his hands gently on her waist, leaning in closer.

“Well then, I guess I’ve got one more reason to give it my all today, don’t I?” he said, his voice full of affection. “I’ll do it for you, my girl.”

Y/N smiled and stood on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I know you will,” she said with conviction. “But now you need to focus.”

“Just one more kiss,” Lando pleaded, his playful tone one she knew all too well.

Y/N gave in, brushing her lips against his again. What was meant to be a quick kiss deepened as Lando held her firmly by the waist, prolonging the moment. When they finally pulled apart, she rolled her eyes, trying to sound stern but failing to hide her amusement.

“Lan, you can’t kiss me like that in the middle of the garage!” she scolded, though her voice carried more laughter than seriousness.

“Why not?” he replied, raising an eyebrow. “You’re my girlfriend. I’ve got every right.”

Y/N sighed, shaking her head but with a smile tugging at her lips. “Alright, Mr. Confident. Now go. Show everyone what you’re capable of.”

He grinned from ear to ear, pressing a kiss to her forehead before finally pulling away to get ready.

[eddiesxangel]

Redemption| Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: after committing a petty crime, Eddie is forced to work community at a retirement home; what he didn’t expect was the pretty girl at the front desk, you. This is so self-indulgent don't come for me

Word count: 3.8k

Cw: mutual pining, male masturbation, Perv!Eddie, Dom!Eddie/ Sub!reader, unprotected sex, corruption kink? breeding kink, sex at work. (Briefly proofread)

An: after 85 years I finally got around to finishing this! It’s not where I thought it would go originally bc it was just suppose to be a fluff piece but the horny gremlin took over

Boredom wasn't even a way to describe how you were feeling. The phones were dead, the day had been dragging on, and it was not even 12:00pm. The residents of the home were also not doing you any favours. Having to repeat yourself about six times in a row at the top of your lungs was starting to get old; your day had just not been going the way you wanted. Any other day, you'd be happy to help, happy to repeat yourself, but today was not one of those days. You were irritated and annoyed; your work bestie was off today, so you couldn't even complain to her about your shit day.

 A sigh of relief fills you when the phone rings, a rare occasion, but today has been so slow you were begging for something to do.

 "Sunny Acres Retirement Home! How may I help you?"  your customer service voice was overly sweet, too sweet. However you can't seem to turn it off, being the people pleaser that you are. 

"Jesus Christ'' You hear mumbled from the other end of the line. 

"Hello? How can I help you?" you roll your eyes, having to repeat yourself, but keep up the chipper act.

 "Yeah, listen, I was assigned to do community hours at this place, and I need to talk to a manager." Damn, this guy had an attitude. 

"Yeah! Sure thing. Can I get your name, please?"

 "Seriously?" 

What the fuck crawled up this guy's ass?

"It's company policy, Sir." You rolled your eyes again, not wanting to deal with more bullshit.

"Eddie"  

"One moment, Eddie, I'll transfer your call." You put him on hold and transferred him to the manager with a good luck warning. 

The next day, you were in much better spirits; your work bestie was with you, it was casual Friday, and you were allowed to wear jeans instead of business casual attire.

It was around 1:00pm when you saw Chief Hopper walk in accompanied by someone you had not recognized. 

"Hey Hopps," you greet him with a smile.

"Hey, you." He said with a smile.

You and Chief Hopper had a friendly relationship because you're close friends with his girlfriend's oldest, Jonathan.  

"To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Brought in another delinquent for you to roughhouse into shape" he steps out of the way.

Your giggle dies as you lock eyes with the prettiest boy you've ever seen. 

"This is Edward; he is here to complete two hundred hours of community service, and he will be starting today."

"It's Eddie," you hear him mumble under his breath. 

Oh so this is the jackass you spoke to on the phone yesterday... a really cute jackass.

He looked to be around your age, but you didn't recognize him. You'd only been in town since the second half of senior year, hating your parents for making your move to a new school so close to graduating. You have been in Hawkins  six years now you're here working 9-5 as a receptionist at Sunny Acres Retirement Home.

"Nice to meet you, Eddie." You introduce yourself and proceed to call the manager to let her know he is here. Once Hopper leaves and your manager shows him around, you immediately call your best friend, Robin's, extension.

"Get over here now! We have a code, hottie," you whisper into the phone. Whenever you see a cute person enter the building, whether it be adult grandchildren, paramedics, or firefighters, you always let one another know when there is one on the premises. No less than two minutes later, she approaches your desk.

"Where are they?"

" There," you point to the dining room directly across from your desk as he is being given a tour of the building.

"Eddie Munson?!" she half yells before covering her mouth. 

"You know him?" you ask excitedly.

"Know him? He's the town freak," she scoffs.

"I'm sure he is a freak, alright?" You wiggle your brows at her." 

"I'm serious! He's bad news." 

"Clearly, he is doing community service hours." 

"Seriously? That is what you're into?" she giggles.

"I don't know? There is something about him?" You bite your lip as you check him out from afar. He turns back to walk towards you, and you quickly look away, not wanting to be caught.

You've always been into bad boys, but your golden retriever, good girl image, always scared them away.

Eddie notices you staring at him because you're not very subtle.  He isn't mad that he caught you staring because he felt that you were checking him out rather than judging him. Unlike your co-worker standing beside you...

Just his luck, he recognized Robin from high school. She was always neutral towards him and didn't say much, but he knew how the people in this town operated. She would turn you against him in no time.

"Buckley." He nodded.

"Munson," she mimicked back.

You watched the scene play out, hoping she would introduce you. Wrong. She goes straight in for the kill.

"My friend thinks you're cute." She points her thumb at you, and you immediately slap her shoulder as a gut reaction.

"Robin?!" you scold her. Mortified about what she admitted to him just to break an awkward silence, you feel like you want the ground to swallow you whole. 

Eddie gives you a cocky smirk before the manager comes back to continue with the tour. 

"Why do you hate me? Did I do something?  Are you punishing me?" you whine. 

"You know I just blurt out things when I get uncomfortable!" 

All you can do is roll your eyes, you loved the girl, but she could be really dense. 

Eddie couldn't stop thinking about your brief interaction all night. Was Robin telling the truth? Did you really think he was cute? Or was she teasing? He hoped that she had grown up since high school and was telling the truth because he also thought you were cute, like really, really cute. He hadn't seen you before, and Hawkins was a small town; he must have known you from somewhere? He wraps his brain around any memories of your face, but he comes up empty. He had to find out more about you. He needed to know you. Something about you infatuated him so much. He thought about how your body looked in the adorable outfit you had on. He thought about what was under the outfit to... Maybe being forced to volunteer his time at Sunny Acres wouldn't be the worst thing that happened to him after all...

The next day, you were assigned to show Eddie some of the duties he was to do for the residents. Talk to them, run bingo, help them with their phone if the line was giving them any trouble, or their TV if they put in the wrong input, serve them beverages, and get to know them and keep them company. A lot of them don't have families or anyone to come visit them. The staff are their family. That was the main reason you stayed at this job for so long. 

Eddie was quiet the whole orientation. The tension from yesterday was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Small talk was not your strong suit; you dreaded it, but you also really wanted to talk with Eddie, so you went for it.

"So what did they book you for? Steal candy from a kid on the playground?" trying to make light of the situation. 

"Murder," he deadpans to you.

"Ha ha. Nice try. They don't give community hours to murderers." you couldn't keep your eyes on the task in front of you.

He was dead silent, but you could feel his eyes burning into you.

"Okay, don't tell me; I'll just keep guessing until you do." you gave a cheeky smile, trying to lighten the mood. 

Another eye roll was shot your way, but you swore you saw a glint of something behind those eyes. 

"So what was it? Trespassing? Vandalism? shoplifting? Public intoxication? Speeding?" you raise a brow at him.

 Eddie just smirked and shook his head as you interrogated him. Your bubbly personality was nothing compared to his. He noticed how you would light up the room when you walked in. The residents of the home adored you, and he could see why. You were one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen; your eyes sparkled, and he loved how you styled yourself. He wasn't used to being so infatuated by someone so cutesy. He noticed you wore a lot of pink and has yet to see you in anything black. He thought of what you would look like with black underwear... then he snapped back out of his thoughts. He tried to think of something less sexy, but as he was trying to do so, your top slipped down when you went to reach for the deck of cards across from you. He caught a glimpse of the frilly light yellow bra you had on under your top.

Eddie noticed the room was getting hotter, or was that just him? You made him nervous; he didn't want to embarrass himself in front of you more than he already has. He felt shame that we had to be waltzed in here by the chief of police, never mind what offence he committed. So he stayed quiet, not wanting the next thing to come out of his mouth to be offensive or crass. So he kept quiet, not saying anything or indulging in the conversation more than he had to.

Another week went by, and you still hardly spoke to Eddie. Work was unbelievably slow yet again. you thought that would give you a chance to speak with Eddie, but you hardly had time to see him because the residents kept hogging him. That was until your manager asked for you to help with the Bingo because everyone decided to show up today. Eddie was in charge of rolling and placing, and you were in charge of announcing and checking.

This was it, this was your chance to speak to him...

"How do you like it here so far?"

"It's fine I guess." He mumbled. 

"Everyone really loves you." You smiled.  

Eddie gave you a look that said what the fuck?

“No really! … Do you not like it here?” What you were really asking was do you not like being around me?

"Don't you get it? How can I serve these snotty rich people when all they do is look down on someone like me?"

"Eddie, are you blind? The residents love you." 

Eddie scoffs at your confession. "I'm serious! When you are gone, Pat always asks where you are! And Linda always refers to you as her boyfriend, and I overheard Martha and June arguing over who got to braid your hair next. You're a real ladies' man around here," You giggle. 

"A ladies man you say?" his mood slowly changes as he smirks at you. That made you blush, the heat rose to your cheeks as you looked away bashfully. He was just so pretty… and the way he looked at you like how he is now is making you so shy.

"Yeah, I'm kinda jealous of Linda, if I'm honest." You flirt. You feel like your stomach was in your ass by the time you finished the sentence.

-

"What's the next number! come on!" Bob yelled from the table. You had completely forgotten about the game.

Small glances were stolen throughout the following weeks.  You would feel the heat rise to your cheeks every time he caught you, and you couldn't tell if he found it endearing or annoying. You never got a response out of Eddie after your admission to being jealous over an eighty-three-year-old.

Eddie definitely thought it was endearing and he can't seem to get you out of his head. He would think about you when he was alone in his room at night. He would think about how you always smelled like marshmallows, how your hair looked so cute with the little bow you put in it occasionally, or how you tease him by wearing those short skirts with stockings underneath. He knew you were teasing him. Everyone else bought the Goodie Two Shoes act, but not Eddie. He saw right through it, and he was fed up. He felt like if he didn't have you, he would actually explode.

Eddie had been watching you from afar this whole time. He would sneak around your desk, finding things he could take home with him as a keepsake. Like little doodles you would leave out, or the pen you were using, or your lip balm. The best was when you left your purse out, and he got a chance to take the travel-size perfume that was lying there on top of everything. There was a reason he got booked for defacing public property and not theft. Theft he was good at.

Eddie sprayed his pillow with your perfume and then used your lip balm that smelled and tasted like strawberries, fuck, everything about you was so sweet: your personality, looks and smell, even your fucking lip balm. He thought about how his lips were touching the thing that touched yours as he applied it to his own, and his dick got hard. Then he thought about how your strawberry lips would look around his hard cock.

You were taking over Eddie's senses as he began to tug at his cock. He thought about how he would love to flip up your skirt and fucking you in one of the empty rooms. His imagination ran wild. He thought about your voice, how your tits would look bouncing in that frilly yellow bra he got a peek at. He wanted you in every position, especially under him. He knew you would be the perfect little sub for him. He needed you to be; he was so close to cumming. He thought about you crying from how much you needed his cock to fill you. He thought about how good you would look and feel swallowing his cock. He needed to take what he thought, no needed to believe, was your virgin pussy.

Eddie came so hard that night, the first night he indulged in his fantasies of you with your smell lingering in the air of his room. The mix of your sent with his was too much. He needed you, and he would do anything to try and get you.

"Ok, I can't take this anymore, you need to talk to him." Robin shook her head. 

"And say what?" 

"Yo Munson, come here!" 

"Robin!" You scolded.  

As Eddie approached, you felt your heart rate go up; you could hear the blood pumping in your ears. What on earth was she going to say now? 

"Okay, I can't take watching you two dance around one another any longer." "She thinks you're cute. Okay..." Robin gestured to you. "Do you think she is cute?"

Eddie didn’t say anything, he just slowly nodded his head.

The tension broke when the shrill of phone ring broke you out of your trance and shook you a little. You just stared at the phone and Robin butted in.

“I’ll take it, you take your lunch” she gave you a wink and you looked to Eddie.

“I could eat.” and he wasn't talking about the chicken they were serving for lunch.

You felt your stomach do a flip-flip; you heard the insinuation in his tone.

"Um, uh- yeah. Okay." You cleared your throat and went to find an empty room for some privacy.

You guided Eddie up to the eighth floor. There were a lot of vacant rooms up there, and hardly anyone went in the west wing since no one was living there yet. The elevator ride up was silent; you felt an awkwardness, like Eddie was looking into your soul even though he wasn't even looking at you... The elevator dinged, and Eddie let you step out first, guiding him to the privacy he yearned for.

809 Eddie read on the door as you fumbled with the lock and key. Finally, you opened the lock and guided him inside. The room was completely empty; it echoed a little as your footsteps filled it.

"So..." You started but Eddie had no time for talking. He wanted you and he wanted you now.

Eddie surprised you by cupping your face and kissing you passionately. No one had ever kissed you like this before; it was strong and hard but also careful.

"You have no idea what you do to me, sweetheart." He spoke into your mouth. The kissing got more and more sensual. You ran your hands up his middle before you knew what was happening he quickly turned you around and pressed you up against the wall.

"You think it's cute? Teasing me for weeks with your sweet little outfits?" Eddie's hand was wrapped around your mouth to keep you quiet as his fingers explored you meat of your ass.

"Mmmmmph" You were so scared someone would find you in the empty suite, but it also turned you on more than expected.

"What was that sweetheart? I didn't quite catch that?" His fingers found the waistband of your stockings and pulled them and your panties down with one swift motion. His hand loosened its grip on your jaw so you could speak.

"N-no," You whimpered. This was turning you on way more than it should. You thought you would come up here to talk; maybe he would ask you out on a date. You never thought you would be fucking!

"I don't believe you."

You felt your skirt flipped up and a cool breeze on your wet pussy.

"Tell me, sweetheart, has anyone ever filled this pussy?" Eddie asked as he ran a single finger through your wet folds.

"Yes," You admit shakily. You gripped Eddie's wrist of the hand that was clamped around your throat.

Eddie can't say he was surprised that you’ve had men before him. You were beautiful, smart, funny, adorable. It's too bad you had to be with them before he got a taste.

"What a shame you've had to suffer through that before meeting me, babydoll."

"Why is that?" you ask bravely.

Eddie chuckled darkly... "Because baby, I'm about to ruin you for all men."

That made you gulp. You can't believe you were about to fuck your crush in the middle of the work day. You didn't do stuff like this! you were a good girl, a rule follower.

Before you could think anymore about the consequences, Eddie, he slipped his throbbing cock into your needy pussy.

"Holy fuck!" You screamed, and Eddie's hand clamped back down over your mouth to keep you quiet.

Just when Eddie didn't think you could get any hotter, the curse word you let slip from your mouth made his cock twitch inside of you.

"Fuck me, you stretch me out so good," You whine, and Eddie thinks he will bust a nut right then and there. His perfect little angel had the mouth of a whore.

"Yes, you like that, don't you, you dirty little slut." Eddie jerked his hips up into you. It was sharp and hard and hit that delicious spot inside you each time. “You wanna be my good girl? Or my bad girl?”

“Good- oh fuck- good girl. I want to be your good girl!”

“That shut the fuck up and take it like I know you can”

"oh my god, you're so big." Your eyes rolled back into your head as he became more controlled with his rhythm. His hands gripped your hip, and he wrapped his hand in your hair, yanking your head back like he was riding you.

The view Eddie had was your ass bounced off his cock was making his head spin. He knew you would hand a perfect pussy. It was his now and only his.

"This pussy is mine now, understand? Im going to fill this pussy so good you won't know what to do for days. The only thing you're going to be thinking of is me and my fat cock."

All you could do was moan in response. "Yea you like that you dirty little whore. You like that I own this pussy now…” Eddie slowed down, he rolled his hips slowly into your pussy and he swore he saw the light “You have everyone convinced you're a goodgirl but all you are is a cumslut. Tell me how much you want my cum coating your walls"

"I want it so bad!" you cried.

You've never had a dick like this before. Eddie was right, he's ruined you for all men and he hadn't even made you cum... yet. You had full faith that he was able to do so because you could feel it. The warm fuzzy feeling was bubbling up in your core. Eddie had picked up the pace at your omission, and fuck if he wasn’t hitting your g spot with each delicious stroke of his cock hitting your walls.

"Fuck I'm going to cum!" You scream, all caution thrown to the wind, you'd forgotten where you were. The only thing you could think of was Eddie and his delicious cock.

"Fuck yes, babydoll. Come on this cock." Eddie's hand let go of your hair and wrapped it around your throat, pulling you flush to his body.

"More" You whisper.

"Greedy greedy girl."

"Please" You begged. You needed him to touch you.

"There is my good girl." His hand that had gripped your hip slid down and started playing with your swollen clit and your legs almost gave out.

"Next time, I'm keeping my word, and I'm going to eat this pretty little pussy." Eddie growled.

That did it for you; your inner walls squeezed, and you felt your orgasm rush through you. Eddie trusted in you as your body convulsed around him.

"Fuck you're so fucking tight," Eddie grits through his teeth, and he fights off his impending orgasm. He doesn't want this moment to end, he wants it to last forever. What if this is the last chance he has to feel your pussy wrapped around him?

"Please, Eddie, I want your cum! I want your cum so fucking bad, my pussy needs it."

That did it for Eddie, he let go and his hot seed was being shot into you with a roar.

After minutes of silence and heavy breathing, Eddie bent down and pulled up your panties and stockings for you, trapping his cum with it. You turn slowly, afraid to look him in the eyes, but Eddie doesn't allow it. He brings your cin up, guiding your eyes to look into his.

"Don't shy away from me now, babydoll. You're going to go back down to the lobby and finish the rest of your work day knowing my cum is going to be seeping through your pretty little panties, ok?" He ordered, and you dumbly nodded your head, still fucked out by the amazing dick you just received.

"Good girl" Eddie patted your ass, and you walked to the elevator with wobbly legs. Eddie laughed and held you stand straight before letting go before you reached the first floor.

You returned from your break fifteen minutes later than allotted, but Robin covered for you. You couldn't even look her in the eyes, and she knew you got freaky with the freak of Hawkins.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Their sleeping habits/ How they sleep with you

Adam

He is a heavy sleeper who absolutely sleeps through everything without questions. He has seen and experienced everything, so nothing disturbs him.

He has 14 alarms set to wake him up because he won't wake up any other way. He really struggles to even wake up with the 14 alarms, but if you coax him awake, he is good.

You two must be touching, with his arm wrapped around you or your legs intertwined. He doesn't really care; he just needs to know you are there with him.

He has a whole night routine with you. While you get ready for bed, he dims the lights and gets out the wing grooming kit. He really likes to let you work on his wings to unwind.

Once all is well, he will pull you close, and you two will talk about your days softly and mentally check in with one another. As you drift off, he will turn off the lights and fall asleep himself.

He may be the world's first dick, but he is also a soft, caring man when it comes to you. He fucked up twice already. He is eager to atone for everything by giving you his all.

Alastor

He doesn't sleep often, and when he does, he is such a light sleeper that the slightest noise or feeling will have him bolted up, ready to flee or fight.

He only has one alarm, and that is all. However, his internal clock tells him when it is time to be up and moving around on the rare occasions he slept that night.

He isn't a fan of cuddling; he finds it too hot, sticky, and overwhelming. However, he occasionally indulges to see you happy and excited.

He is content with you two sleeping on your separate sides of the bed, and just feeling the dip of your side lets him feel comforted and reassured he isn't alone.

Due to not sleeping much, he likes to mostly help you with your night routine, from pulling your PJs out for you to brushing your hair and reading to you.

He sees rest as a time to wind down and relax, so he won't bother you with the trials of your day this close to bed. Instead, he turns on some smooth jazz and hums for you.

His favorite thing to do is gently caress your hair once you are fully asleep and stroke your face. He is happy with the knowledge that you let your full guard down around him as he does you.

Lucifer

Lucifer is a heavy sleeper; he has been depressed for years, and he has mastered the art of sleeping through a lot of things just cause he is too sad to care.

He only has 4 alarms all with varying labels of severity, typically depending on which one he actually gets up too is the one that will tell you how his day is gonna go.

He is a complete cuddler and will hold you captive in bed, no questions asked. He will wake up completely if he does not have you wrapped up in his arms, where he knows you are safe.

His whole routine is about bonding and being close to one another in the safety of your bedroom. He draws a bath/shower, massages, soft talks, and a white noise machine.

He liked to wrap you up in his arms and wings, thinking it gave him extra security that you would not just up and leave him randomly like Lilith did.

He loves matching PJs cause it is a cute way to wake up and remember his world didn't end all those years ago when Lilith walked out on him and Charlie.

Husk

He is a regular sleeper, not heavy or light, and it truly depends on the alcohol content the night before and if Alastor is lurking nearby or not.

He has 2 alarms. They are thirty minutes apart from one another, so that way, he knows that he has successfully pissed Alastor off. Yet you manage to help him avoid getting his contract held over him quite often.

He likes to have an arm lazily wrapped around you while he spoons you. He is afraid you will see him how he sees himself when he is so vulnerable, so he likes to be the one holding you.

Night routine-wise, you spend a lot of time pampering him since he refuses to care more than a little about himself. You make sure his fur is well groomed, his wings are preened, and his side of the bed is perfectly acclimated for him.

He likes to talk about the future with you. It's not too crazy or fast-paced unless you want to go that far, but he likes how you entered his life and gave him something to hope for.

He likes to wrap his tail around your leg and inhale your scent as you two fall asleep. He can never fully comprehend how he landed someone so perfect in his life.

Vox

He is a light sleeper. Having dealt with Alastors' onslaught of attacks before he joined the Vees and being one of the trio's powerhouses, he is afraid of being attacked.

He doesn't use an alarm; he wakes up when the sun does and goes to bed when his body is ready to sleep. Really, he is the best at sleeping out of everyone.

He likes to sleep on his back with your head nestled on his chest. With the widescreen, it is tough for him to rest on his side to hold you.

A night routine involves many soft domestic things you wouldn't expect from Vox. He likes to help you undress, shower, put on your pajamas, and tuck you into bed before he even considers caring for himself.

He likes to watch TV shows with you to wind down, so he will turn on the best hits or even find old shows he watched long ago for you two to bond over and invest in.

Once you are sound asleep, he will power down for the night and sit in sleep mode. He likes to stay alert, though, in case any danger may come your way.

Prompt assistance: @literallurker

[teratosfavouritesnack]

~ Dirty Hobby ~

roommate!werewolf x afab!reader - roommates to lovers, sexual frustration, (slightly) dub-con, dry humping/frottage, thigh job, impact play, cum play, degradation kink if you squint

3,4k.

Writing stories is a lot of fun. It's a passion for you, something you enjoy doing in your spare time, but you also see it as a way to release emotions that would otherwise weigh on you. Typically, you prefer romance although your stories always end up being far spicier than anticipated. That may reveal something about you, specifically that you need a good fucking, but staying at home all the time and never socializing with anyone doesn't pair well with being sexually active. Last time you let a not-fictitious being fuck you must have been not less than 80 stories ago; 5k words each, mind you.

The only non-fictitious being you interact with on a daily basis is your roommate, Alexis, also known as the 'good boy'. You call him that on occasion simply because you love the way his long fluffy tail eagerly wiggles back and forth, in stark contrast to the grimace he always gives you in answer to your playful mocking. He's also a 'good boy' because he never caused you any trouble in the six months you've been sharing a flat. He is clean, not nosy or noisy, and rarely invites people over, which is a huge plus for you.

Another major benefit of having Alexis as a roommate is that you basically have a living, breathing prototype for the protagonists in your works of fiction. Perhaps it sounds weird, but you've used him as the base of the love interests in your romances more times than you probably should have... Does that imply that you're in love with him? No! Well, not exactly. You could say you are attracted to him. You enjoy his presence, his massive presence, as well as his grave but sweet voice, his kind eyes, his long snout that screams 'pat me! pat me!', his long muscular arms that could so effortlessly sweep you up and...

Anyway. You like the dude. As in, he's a good friend who also happens to be very good to look at. You've done your best to separate him from the dozens of characters he has inspired thus far, and you'd like to keep it that way. Separate. Luckily, he is unaware of your… recreational activity. And he'll never know about it.

However, while your mind has managed to make things feel acceptable and not as odd as they actually are, what your body does is a very different story. Writing erotica has an undeniable impact on the writer, especially if you're describing fantasies you've indulged in far too many times before. What that entails for you is that you're aroused on a regular basis. And the fact that the character from your stories is walking around the house, chatting with you and parading around the very assets you fawn over in your wildest dreams makes it even more difficult for your body to remain partial... Makes things all the more wet, to be precise. Yes. Sometimes it's so uncomfortable that you have to take care of it right away, cleaning up and changing your underwear before returning to your chores. Other times, you just get on with your day despite your damp panties. You're used to it by now, so it's not a major issue for you…

It's a major fucking problem for your roommate, though. You have absolutely no idea. You can't even begin to imagine how challenging it is for a werewolf like him to ignore the scent trail you leave behind wherever you move inside the house. It's actually maddening! A torture! If he didn't know you better, he'd assume you were doing it on purpose just to drive him nuts. He tried to remain unaffected, to suppress his urges, but weeks after weeks after weeks, your scent became all he could smell inside the house, inside his own bedroom; even the food tasted like you! He considered moving out, to avoid the risk of doing something he would definitely regret. He does not want to hurt you, of course. It could be a situation beyond your control or a health issue. What does he know? What he knows is that he can't handle it anymore! He can't focus on anything else but your sweet mouthwatering fragrance that makes him hard all the fucking time. He ought to do something about it. He needs to! Before he loses his mind completely.

He's oh so very close to losing it when he barges into your bedroom one evening while you're tapping away on your keyboard, as usual. The sudden bang of your door being forced open makes you jump on your seat, and your eyes instantly snap to him. They widen in shock at the sight of his disheveled state; his shirt is unbuttoned all the way down to his hips, his belt unfastened and the zip of his jeans is halfway down, making his enormous bulge stand out even more. You divert your gaze from it as soon as possible, locking eyes with his instead. But his gaze is no better. His pupils are dilated, and he stares at you as though you're a piece of raw meat. He has never looked so feral before.

“A-Alexis?”

He growls in response, his legs twitching as if he’s ready to pounce on you, but instead he moves his clawed hands to his head and runs them through his ruffled fur in a calming gesture, one you’ve seen him do before whenever he got a bit too fired up.

“I can’t take it anymore-” he rasps, taking a deep breath before fixing his piercing stare on you again. “Whatever it is, you need to take care of it. As soon as possible.”

His words don’t make any sense to you. What should you take care of? Did you forget to take out the trash today? What day is it? No, it’s a tuesday, it’s his turn-

“Did you hear me?”

His voice genuinely rattles you, you’ve never heard him sound so upset before. You must have really pissed him off somehow.

“I’m sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about-” 

He doesn’t seem to hear your answer though, for he starts to move his snout back and forth, from one side of your room to the other, sniffling as if something has suddenly caught his attention. A deep puzzled frown emerges on your face as you watch him step further inside your room, scoping his surroundings like a hound searching for a bone, until he comes to a halt in front of your wardrobe and slams it open without asking for permission.

“What are you doing?”

He ignores the hint of apprehension in your voice and starts to rummage through your clothes so carelessly that you fear he will tear them all to shreds. 

“Alexis! What the heck-!”

He growls in frustration, his clawed hands finding purchase on the cabinet door frame, causing the wood to creak under his grip. You can't see his face since he's still buried deep inside your wardrobe, but you can clearly hear his frantic sniff sniff sniff as he obstinately pursues the source of the smell that apparently irritates him so much he turns into a literal beast. 

You’re unsure whether to approach him in this state or just wait for him to put an end to whatever’s happening, but before you can come to a conclusion, Alexis crouches down with a satisfied huff and pulls back from the wardrobe with…

"My dirty laundry…?"

You give him an odd look as he drops the basket on the floor in front of you. Is this the source of the smell that bothered him? But there's no foul odor coming from it, at least not one that you can smell. There's not much inside after all, only a towel and...

Your eyes widen as Alexis reaches out with his hand and grabs a pair of dirty undies from the basket, instantly sending your face blushing with heat and your stomach flipping in embarrassment.

"Wha-! P-Put that back!" You stutter, clearly flustered, attempting to steal your underwear from his grasp, but he quickly moves them out of your reach, bringing them to his nose and taking a good sniff. Your face turns even more red at the sight.

"This." he growls, peering down at the fabric, his gaze fixated on the still damp patch sitting in the center. "This is the problem."

You're too mortified to argue with him about it, so you quickly blurt out, "I'm washing it right away, okay? Now give it back!" as you reach out again, only for him to jerk his arm away a second time.

"No. You do not understand. It's not just today," he says, clutching your underwear in his palm and piercing you with his golden eyes. “It’s everyday. Everywhere. I can only smell this.”

Oh.

Oh.

So… all this time��� he could smell your…

Shock roots you to the spot. You’re left gaping at him, lips moving yet no sound comes out of your mouth. You had no idea. You didn’t even think about it. If you knew, maybe you could have refrained from writing so much, every damn day… You could have gone to a cafè instead of staying at home… Or you could have at least been a tad more careful-

"What's got you so worked up every fucking moment?" he asks, huffing in exasperation and looking around your room as if seeking the root of your problem, until his gaze settles on your desk. "You're always on your computer, tapping on that damned keyboard. I can hear you from my own room. You've got a long distance relationship or something?"

"I…I’m sorry. I d-didn’t mean to uhh… upset you?” You fumble over your words, struggling to find an appropriate response to this ridiculous and surreal circumstance, while simultaneously stepping back in front of the computer to hide it from his observant eye. "This won't happen again... Alright?"

His brow raises in interest, ears perking up and golden eyes peering into yours. You're sure he can tell how nervous you are. Gosh, you know now he must also be able to smell how shamefully aroused you are at the chance of being caught, your secret dirty hobby being exposed.

"Whatcha hiding, mh?" he taunts, taking a step closer, amusement and vexation mixing in a lethal combo. He cranes his neck to look behind you, but you're too close to the screen for him to catch a glimpse of it. "A secret lover? I'll grant you permission to let them come over. Maybe that will help you."

You're physically shaking with both dread and excitement, your wide eyes locked on his face, your hands reaching out to shove him back. Your stomach flips as you realize your palms have made contact with the fur on his chest and heat instantly pools in your abdomen when you spot the dilation of his pupils; they get so wide his golden irises almost disappear.

Before you have any chance to avoid it, he has you imprisoned against his body, his palm wrapped around the back of your neck, burying your face in his chest while he bends over to your computer. Your complaints are muffled by his fur, and your hands clutching at his sides are merely giving him a massage. There's nothing you can do against him. He is too big and strong... and warm, and soft, and he smells like fresh grass after rainfall. Oh, it’s even better than what you imagined…

You feel his muscles tense up around you just a moment before a loud bark of hearty laughter erupts from him, rumbling in his chest against your cheek and pulling you out of your reveries.

“Hunter’s Moon! That’s what you’ve been doing all along?” He pulls you back by tugging at your hair, his eyes full of mirth - and maybe a hint of mockery - as he stares down at you. “That’s what makes you so wet all the time that I can’t fucking breathe?”

“T-That’s not-!”

You're so ashamed that you'd rather combust into millions of particles and disappear right now. But there's also that wicked part of you that is pleased to hear you've had such a profound effect on him with your scent. The same side that relishes the way he's holding your hair, looking down at you, and laughing.

“You want a beast to fuck you?”

The way he spits out those words makes you shudder, and all you can do is stare up at him, astonished. His other hand moves to your face, grazing the outline of your cheek with the back of his clawed fingers, making your taut body shiver even more, your stomach doing somersaults. He can certainly feel it. He can see the desire wallowing in your wide shiny eyes. And it excites him. 

“Oh, sweetie. You could have just said so.”

And with that, he has your heart bursting downright out of your chest as he twists you around and bends you onto your desk, your fingers grasping the edge, your head almost colliding with your computer's screen. His hand pushes on the small of your back, causing your body to arch and your bottom to stick out. You feel his erection push against your jeans, directly against the crack of your ass, as he bends over you, his hot breath brushing the shell of your ear.

“Who would have thought you were so naughty…” he whispers slowly, voice laced with amusement. "Writing about werewolves ravishing you…" His free hand creeps over your hip and slides towards your belly. "Destroying your little human holes…" His fingers creasing and raising the thin fabric of your tee as they dig into the soft flesh of your abdomen, steadily crawling lower. He laughs again, blowing warm air into your skin when he notices you whimpering quietly and trembling under his touch. 

“Isn’t that what you write about, mh? Why don't you read it for me?"

Your eyes widen, and you meet his amused look with a shiver that runs down your spine and lands between your thighs. He gives you a wolfish grin before nudging your head with his snout and turning it towards the screen. "C'mon. Read it."

You can't think clearly, let alone focus on the text on the white screen. Your heart is racing and the heat in your lower abdomen is becoming unbearable. If only he moved his fingers lower to offer you just a little relief...

“Start from the line that says how the beast rips your pants apart… That sounds like fun.”

You’re panting so hard already and he’s barely touched you. You have to swallow a couple of times to clear your throat and moisten your dry mouth before you’re able to speak again. But even then your voice comes out shaky and subdued as you start reading your own wicked fantasies out loud.

“...he groped the round sphere of her ass, massaging her flesh as if to prepare her for what was about to come-”

You yelp as you feel both his palms land on your ass, groping you over the fabric of your pants.

“Keep going. Don’t leave me hanging…” he croons teasingly in your ear, giving your cheeks a squeeze as an incentive.

You take a shuddering breath and then exhale, hoping to calm your frenzied heartbeat - as if that’s possible in a situation like this - and resume reading from where you left off.

“...a loud gasp of shock escaped her lips when his hands pulled at her pants and ripped the fabric apart as if it was made of paper-”

And with that, your pants are gone too, leaving only a few bits of fabric hanging around your thighs. You don’t even care about your clothes right now, you just want him to take you. You need him. You want him so badly. 

His claws run along your panties, purposefully missing the wet spot sitting right at the center. Your legs weakly buckle in protest.

“What about these? What happens to her soaked panties?”

“Ripped apart as well.” you answer forthwith, pushing your ass back to seek more friction and thus sending him laughing at your eagerness.

His fingers coil around the fabric's edges, yanking at it as if ready to tore it, only to let go and snap the elastic band against your skin.

"Nah. I think I'll keep them on for now," he muses, his voice still cracking with amusement as if he's thoroughly enjoying torturing you and driving you insane.

Your indignant cry rapidly turns into a shocked gasp as you feel something long and hard shove against your panties-clad folds. When you look down, your jaw falls at the sight of his huge throbbing cock stroking against your cunt back and forth, its dark pink skin already glistening with your juices dropping through your drenched underwear.

"So wet…" he croons, nestling his face in the crook of your neck. His moist nose brushes against your boiling hot skin, giving you chills. "So wet for me."

He keeps moving against you, maddeningly slowly, making you quiver with both pleasure and desperation. Breathy whimpers and moans fall from your parted lips, mirroring the rhythm of his thrusts.

"A-Alexis… please…"

You’re begging him to fuck you. He knows that. It's so obvious. It pleases him greatly, yet he won't let your precious little cries deter him from his own plans. His movements almost come to a halt as his warm, wet tongue slides out of his mouth and licks the side of your neck.

“You’ve driven me mad for months.” he growls in your ear, frustration once more edging his tone. His hands eagerly reach for your thighs and push them together to squeeze his cock between your soft flesh. You moan in response, surprised and satisfied by the additional friction, although still frustrated by the emptiness you feel inside you, with your walls clenching desperately around nothing. 

“Now it’s my turn.”

A jolt of pleasure strikes your core as his arms wrap around your middle and he starts to buck his hips against your ass at a punishing pace, rocking your whole body with such force that you’d be slamming against the desk if he wasn’t holding onto you like a vice.

You whine and mewl ever louder, the knot in your lower belly tightening at an alarming rate. Your hands grasp onto his strong arms, fingers tangling in his fur, while your head bobs feverishly upon his shoulder.

“A-Alexis… I-I'm- I’m!”

His moist nose taps on your neck, tongue lapping at your skin, as his cock keeps on bullying your poor swollen folds. The fabric of your underwear is so wet at this point that it's almost as if it's not even there; you can feel him entirely, rubbing your small bundle of nerves with every thrust.

"Already?" His laughter vibrates through your writhing body, heightening the friction between your thighs.

You try to hold back, a little offended by his derision, wanting to last a bit longer, but with a harsh yank of his hand, he pulls your panties to the side and finally seals your fate. Tendrils of pleasure ignite from your core, sending you spasming sharply in his grasp,your cunt gushing cum on his length.

He growls in your ear, tightening his hold and lifting you off the ground while chasing his own high. Feeling you contort in ecstasy and soak his cock has excited him viscerally, and it's only a matter of minutes until he follows you, shooting his sperm into your panties and mixing his juices with your own. You're both left panting, breathless, and light-headed, your bodies buzzing with the last shreds of bliss.

Alexis adjusts your underwear, cupping your cunt to ensure you feel his cum smear across your tender flesh. You whimper lazily in response, turning your head to glance up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. He meets your gaze with his own glazed look and smiles, that wolfish smile that inspired oh so many stories.

You need more. You want him. You want to feel him inside you. This was not enough. Not enough to satisfy months and months worthy of fantasies and soaking panties.

As if sensing the need within you, Alexis raises his hand to your hair and caresses it with newfound affection.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll give you plenty to write about..." he teases and grins at the way your eyes seem to lighten up at his words, only to see your face fall a second later as he adds: "In due time."

He gives you a playful smack on the ass and then walks out of your room, snickering.

"Whatcha having for dinner?

🪷. You can leave me a tip on ko-fi if you want to support me

[shallyouobeyme]

From the Outside

Part 1 (you're here) | Part 2 (Coming soon)

Platonic!Yandere Batfam x Neglected Batsib!reader (GN)

Summary: You were living your life as a stranger in the house you were supposed to call home, an outsider in a group of people who were supposed to be your family. So you do your best to keep yourself distracted from your situation and go on with your life. But just how long will you be able to keep on with that?

! Minors Do Not Interact !

Requested by @sol565

TW: Not much in this one, neglect (obviously), loss of relatives, car crash (mentioned), cancer (mentioned), swearing, coming up to Yandereness in the next chapters. I'll try to proofread and edit once I finish the whole thing.

Last night you dreamed of your family again. It was a pleasant dream, one that had you wishing to keep on dreaming even after you were woken up by your alarm. All of you were sitting at the dinner table, enjoying Alfred’s excellent cooking. The room was filled with happiness and joy, the kind of atmosphere that has you reminiscing about that day for ages. In your dream you felt so weightless, Damian was sitting opposite you as he listened to you talk about your day, an anecdote of you leading to laughter filling the room. Your mother ruffled your hair from where she was sitting beside you and as you smiled up to her you felt filled with love. Around the table, the Waynes were actively interested in the conversation and Bruce was asking you a question leading to a cheeky comment from your left side. You knew what was said, but you couldn’t understand the voice. Confused you looked to where your father should be sitting but only a distorted shadow figure looked back at you. 

It opened whatever would be most akin to a mouth and a blaring sound echoed out of it. Your eyes flew open as you slapped your bedside table to grab your phone. 7 A.M, time to get up. This dream had been haunting you for a few weeks now, the idyllic family dinner turning into an unpleasant reminder of your situation. At first, you had woken up in a cold sweat and slightly fearful from the end, but by now you had grown very accustomed to it. Just another part of your day to get through. 

You accepted to pay the mental price for the opportunity to see your mother again, if only during the nights. 

Another look at your phone to check the notifications and you got up and got dressed. Given the time you knew that you still had enough time to join your adopted siblings for breakfast, but even Alfred's amazing pancakes and french toast could to move you into the kitchen. Deciding to just nap something from your friends during lunch break at school, you grabbed your bag and jacket before quickly making your way through the manor. Like almost every morning you silently prayed that you wouldn’t come across anyone on your way to the front door. Eighty per cent of the time you were lucky, fifteen per cent you were just ignored and the other five per cent you found yourself stuck in painfully awkward small talk with the people who lived on the same floor as you. People who were supposed to be your closest friends and confidants. People who weren’t that. People who were more akin to strangers.

Today you were in luck as you managed to slip out of the giant house you hated to call home without having to talk to anyone. Getting onto your scooter, you made your way to the school, enjoying the air in your face through the helmet and the feeling of freedom that only came to you on rare occasions. 

The school was still fairly empty when you arrived - as was expected - so you had the honour of walking through the empty halls like you owned the place. A sentiment that some of your schoolmates even believed. You wanted to tell them that you had no need for your Guardians money, no interest in his family’s name or his family’s reputation. Bitter thoughts filled your mind, leaving a taste of anger, of disappointment, of anguish on your tongue. They weren’t helped by what you saw when you stopped in front of the trophy showcase. There were pictures of some of the best former student-athletes that had attended the school, and the most recognizable was a picture that was proudly displayed right on eyesight. It was at a sporting event that had happened some twenty to thirty years earlier, one that was still held bi-annually. The winners of different disciplines were smiling proudly into the camera, arms around each other. 

Taking the spotlight was a man that every proud Gothamite would recognize as a young Bruce Wayne on one side, a different boy who people tended to overlook based on his less noticeable features and the lack of fame he had, and in the middle of both of them stood Bruce’s former best friend. Your mother. Your late mother. 

She had been a beautiful, stunning, talented woman. Everyone who had ever known her told you that. You tried to take some solace in the fact that they told you how alike the two of you were, both in looks and in personality. It did nothing to quell the underlying pain though, the pain still boiling inside you, pain that over the years had turned into anger. You weren’t angry with your mother, of course, you knew that she had not chosen to fall sick, that she had not chosen to succumb to cancer. She had loved you with all her heart and only ever wanted you to be happy. This is why, when your grandparents died in a shooting shortly after her diagnosis, she put it in her will that after her passing you were to be taken care of by her lifelong friend Bruce Wayne. After all, he already had kids and he was rich, just like she and her parents had been - money and estates that now waited on you to turn 18 to take charge of - and he’d be surely able to give you the life and the love she always wanted you to have. 

Sadly, your mother had not known Bruce quite as well as she had believed she did. She had no idea that he spent his nights as the infamous Batman, or that the kids he adopted had been turned into fighting machines - sometimes even killers. She had no idea that he was not the amazing, loving and attentive father figure she had wanted you to have. Not even close. 

You suppose he had tried at one point. When you were a young child, grieving the loss of your entire family and everything that you had known, he had taken you in like one of his own and assured you that from then on he’d protect you. Back then you had believed him. After all, your mother had told you so many great things about him, why should she lie. And with elder brothers and sisters, a Butler who made sure you had your favourite foods whenever you felt sad and a man who tried his best to be the father you never had. They did lots of work to spend time with you and to pay attention to you which would ensure you wouldn’t notice their weird habits and absences. But of course that couldn’t work forever. After a few months, you found out about their best (and somehow at the same time worst) kept secret and as you walked through the Batcave by Bruce’s side everything changed. He didn’t directly offer to train you, but he did insinuate that it was an option, though you declined. You couldn’t see yourself hurting others. You wanted to help like your mom had helped, by volunteering, bettering the world peacefully. Bruce had assured you that that was a completely acceptable decision and that it wouldn’t change anything. But he had lied. Perhaps knowingly, perhaps not. Maybe some of both. 

Once you were aware of their second life, they didn’t put in the effort to pay enough attention to you to make you unaware of their secret. At first, they still spent time with you, but over time it seemed like you were blending into obscurity like a special bottle of champagne that was planned to be open on a special occasion only. Just that the bottle was usually remembered after the occasion had passed in annoyance. You weren’t. And as you phased out of their minds and into oblivion, you made peace with your place in the family. An outsider, a stranger inside their house, just waiting until the time had come for you to finally live your own life. 

Of course, you knew you could have it worse. You had enough money to fulfil every wish you had as long as it was material, always had something to wear, something to eat, and somewhere to sleep. The only thing you didn’t have was love. But especially in Gotham you knew that you got away rather luckily with that, so while you were deeply angry towards the people who had promised to treat you like family, to love you, you also tried to just get on with your life. 

It would have been easier if it wasn’t just so hard to look at your so-called siblings as if you didn’t resent them for the way they treated you, compared to one another. Somehow showing any interest in you or attempting to spend any time with you was a chore, but somehow Jason and Cass could have a little book club, Jason and Dick could go out for lunch at a cat-cafe, Steph, Cass and Tim could have Spa-days and all of them could have an occasional movie night together. It wasn’t explicitly stated that you weren’t welcome, but you had seen how they acted when you were with them compared to how they acted when you were hiding behind the door listening in. They seemed so much happier without you. As if your mere presence ruined the mood. So you started rejecting their invitations to join and it only took one of two attempts of them to stop asking completely. 

You might have been able to cope better with the obvious dismissal of your existence if it had been because you hadn’t been part of the family when they had forged their close bond, but somehow, even when Damian joined, acting like a complete asshole to everyone around him, they managed to include him and when he warmed up to them he joined their close group. 

So your newness surely could not have been that big of an issue right? Even Damian, completely new to the family and surely aggressive towards all of his pseudo siblings, seemed to know you were less than the others since he didn’t even bother to insult you, instead opting to ignore you. Completely. A glance spared, looking you up and down, and he had decided you were not worth it and his opinion seemingly still hadn’t changed. Sure by now you had talked with him a few times, but you could say the same about the fucking mayor of Gotham so you were sure that did not really count. 

Sometimes, you lay in your bed at night, wide awake, wondering just why you were worth so much less in their eyes. What you had done wrong. Two answers usually presented themselves before you. Either it was because you weren’t a vigilante, something that you might even have been willing to accept, or it was… you. Just you. And for some reason, that was the answer that seemed more plausible to you. Maybe you were just unpleasant to be around, not fitting enough for their family. Not interesting enough, not Wayne enough. 

And so you were cursed to live your life like a ghost in what is supposed to be your home. Going in and out every day, just waiting for the day to come when you could move into the penthouse your grandparents had bought you before they died, which would become your legal property in just a few years. You’d start anew. Maybe one day, after a long time and probably a lot of therapy, you’ll be able to start your own family. One that you’d promise not to fuck up like Bruce had. Until then though, you’d go on like always, spend as little time in that Manor as possible and try to distract yourself from your reality. 

You really did spend very little time at the manor. For one, no one in that house cared when you left or when you came back except maybe Alfred, but even he either knew that you could properly use the freedom or he was too busy to care. Probably a mix of both. And along with that, you had started a very active life outside of your family. You had a lot of friends, though you were not ready to call any of them close friends, always knowing about how many of them were after the publicity of your actual and current family name and the money and fame connected to it. But they were nice enough and they distracted you so you didn’t mind. Especially because you used said popularity to help the people in town. You managed to get a lot of your friends to volunteer alongside you in different homeless shelters, though a lot of them tended to post dozens of pictures which made you feel a bit icky about them trying to profit from helping others, but you knew you couldn’t complain because it did help the shelters. The shelters told you so themselves. 

Most of your ‘pocket money’ was donated and the rest of the time was spent doing different activities, be it arts, sports, parties or just wasting the day away. You did your best to cram as much into your day-to-day life as you could to keep you from thinking too much. To stop you from thinking too much about how messed up you were now, how you couldn’t even confide in any of your friends, how you didn’t even really manage to call them your friends, because you couldn’t allow yourself to let anyone close to you anymore, because you knew you weren’t worth it, because you knew you’d be disappointed and hurt again. 

These dark thoughts were kept inside, slowly eating at you like termites, while on the outside you kept on being the happy-go-lucky Gotham personality that people loved to follow. Though you didn’t post a lot on your own social media, your friends and people around you did, which the public loved for some reason. And so you kept up the act, because what else could you do? Let people know you’re hurting? So they could ridicule you for your rich people's problems? Or keep out of the public eye? And have to face the lonely darkness that was your life? No, you’d rather keep on pretending like you had been for years now. Even if it meant being a piece of entertainment for other people who could turn on you at any second. 

The day at school was mostly uneventful, only a short moment of passing by Damian ruined your mood as your classmates did their usual shtick of asking if that wasn’t your brother and you trying to shrug them off, after all, how do you explain that your brother treated you like air not worth breathing? So you changed the topic by announcing that you’d go help out at a local shelter after school and asked if anyone wanted to join. Some excused themselves but a few agreed, which led to a group of five of you coming into the shelter a few hours later after some mandatory selfies so keep your friends placated. There was a bit more traffic inside than usual - a few people definitely not in need of help - which was probably because one of your friends posted your plans on their socials. That was something that you had to begrudgingly accept. You couldn’t afford their anger, so you made a compromise with them that they could post stuff like that, but that they couldn’t post the exact location (which in your opinion was just common sense, but it seemed not a lot of people shared that).

Ignoring the people only there to see you or be near a Wayne, you focused on helping those who needed your help, though aware of the effect you could have on the shelter business, you helped out in the kitchen where people couldn’t see you. You didn’t mind, you liked cooking and you and the fellow kitchen staff had a sort of harmonized rhythm. It even helped you get lost in thoughts that didn’t make you wanna cry, so when you got interrupted in your flow, you almost jumped in shock. One of the organizers had tapped on your shoulder. 

“Y/N, there’s a man outside that wants to talk to you,” Marcus told you and nodded towards the door to the front.

“They still haven’t left? I’m really sorry Marc, if you think it’s better if I leave, then I will,” you sighed, annoyed by the turn of events. 

“No, it’s not a fan. At least I think, he’s- well, he claims to have something really important to talk to you about. He gave me this to show to you, said it’ll show you he’s serious,” Marcus shrugged and held a picture out to you. It was an old Polaroid of a young couple smiling into the camera. Your breath hitched. 

“Is he the guy in the picture?” you asked with a newly found seriousness.

“Yes, at least he looks like it. Is the woman-”

“Yeah, could we use the office? Only if you’re okay with it, of course.”

“Sure, no problem, go ahead, I’ll bring him to you in a minute.”

“Thank you,” you earnestly smiled at Marcus as you made your way to the door that led to the office. You were used to being nervous, but not quite as nervous as you were then. This could change a lot of things, everything if it was what you imagined it to be. You looked at the picture in your hand again before sitting down behind the desk and putting it down on the desk. There were steps behind the door coming closer, so you took a deep breath as you wiped your hands on your pant legs. The door opened and in came a man who looked just like the guy from the Polaroid. He seemed familiar, not just from that snapshot of the past, but something in his face rang a bell in your memories. You mustered him, trying to keep a stern exterior as you didn’t know if this was going to be what you thought it would be. 

Marcus gestured the man to sit down on the other side of the desk, before giving you an encouraging nod and closing the door as he left. 

“Hello,” you greeted the man, hands intertwined before you on the desk.

“Hello,” he responded alike and you could feel his curiosity burning through you. Had you misinterpreted this? Was this just another weird fan?

“This picture,” you looked at it again before sliding it towards him, “how do you know my mom?”

A/N: So, what do y'all think? Let me know in the comments or in my inbox ❤️ Also, I'd appreciate feedback on the title as well, not sure if I should change it or keep it.

[anantaru]

— their favorite form of pda (public display of affection)

including dan heng, blade, jing yuan, luocha, sampo, gepard, welt x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, crack, very sweet n cute

when it comes to dan heng, he, for one part, enjoys less than more— you can catch him quietly patting your back whenever you‘re doing something, or on any occasion you'd meet up with your boyfriend, he'd make himself visible by kissing your cheek. it's rarely your lips when people were close by, yet if it was someone he considered a friend as well, dan heng did not mind smooching your lips for a short while. by all odds, he was observant of the current setting he found himself in and he waits long enough to relocate the vibes and go with them. it's also worth to note that dan heng would never attempt to do something to make you uncomfortable, he was a patient man, marking time and pausing to identify any discomfort.

notably enough, blade thinks it‘s cute, no scrap that, doubtlessly ambrosial when he notices how you're waiting for it to happen— howbeit, you‘re sneakily inching a square near his body so he can as a matter of course swathe his broad arm around your shoulders and leave it there to be tumbling around you. all the same example was blade expecting you to do the same and encircle him back. briefly, you will remain in a flowing setting and be fond of the exchanged heaves of air when you‘re slowing yourself into his chest— because fundamentally speaking, there has been nothing that had a more tranquil stifling on you then listening to blade's heart-beats.

as one clearly might’ve made an estimate thus far, jing yuan needs you to be as sheltered as possible against his immersing cradle. your boyfriend evidently does not want to unintentionally overstep any boundaries with you and makes it his own personal responsibility to be an eager listener while also hugely monitoring when he senses it‘s okay to approach you a tad closer. as a general rule, the subdued signaling will wind up with jing yuan listlessly planting his palm on your lower back whenever you walk into, well, really anywhere; a fine scented flower shop was only one of such. greater yet— the man was a gentleman, opening the door for you and silently swaying his large hand up and down your back to voicelessly tell you that, yes indeed, he was present and there's nothing for you to worry about.

the fetching and enticing luocha who, in his immediate brilliance, had a charming practice of turning relatively flustered, cheeks swelled up whenever he thought about it— all in all, what in the eyes of his significant other was too much or too little, all your boyfriend wanted to proudly achieve was to hit that spotless middle and make you doubtlessly happy in the process. he coughs, managing to get his hand towards your lower arm before exhaling softly, it's done now, he realizes, lips twitching in the process when you're amusedly watching him fold, "this is awkward, don't you think?" you giggle, pointing towards the comical picture of luocha holding onto you— significantly resembling a child holding onto their parent in a grocery store. "lets try this instead." above you, you see a man with a blush on his handsome features, leaning into whatever you say as you effortlessly slip your fingers and tangle them into his own.

how would you, individualistically, describe your boyfriend sampo koski? by fair means, it was impossible, unthinkably out of the question. you often find yourself quite surprised and baffled on how fickle and unpredictable he appeared to be. wether it had been sampo suddenly grabbing a stern hold of your hand to twirl you around in front of everyone or him swiftly cutting you off mid speech to place a kiss on your parted lips. 'i felt like it', he says proudly, with that damned smirk caked around the sharp edges of his mouth, but 'i needs more' sampo will add on, only then he'll shut up in a satisfied bliss and let you carry on with the topic you had been rambling about to him.

you sometimes wonder if the general and your personal protector gepard could turn even cuter— the hint of a full shaded blush on his cheeks as he averts his gaze and nervously coughs into his hand. but do not get fooled, he cannot possibly help himself, it's not like he will ever get used to you agreeing to the silent, little flushed request of gepard longing to hold your hand. be it known throughout entire spaces, he certainly does not stop here, what held gepard's mind locked behind heart shaped clouds, was when you'd visit him at work sometimes— undeniably when he wasn't busy for once; the unwavering courage, as he referred to it, for you to smirkingly place a subtle kiss on his burning lips after encountering him was indescribable for the man, and this craving he went through now had become like an infinite road— forever, he hopes, you'd show him more of that flickering kindness, the one that had lifted any burdens off his soul.

upwardly subtle and efficiently sophisticated— the very two turns of phrases that would adequately describe welt‘s usual approach on you. if he had to speak out more clear to a subject such as pda, which he does more than you'd sometimes like to admit, he was personally not all too bothered nor interested on it. distinctly, it's not like he found any particular distaste in it, he simply has not spent any time going over it alone more sufficiently. in a clearer way did he not view it as something holding a significant importance in your relationship. but, from time to time, he too catches himself fall into it, especially when you‘re inviting him with open arms surrounded by precious friends and colleagues, awaiting a passion infused hug welt always did justice to.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[deanswhiskey]

𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 - 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

⛥ ⛥ ⛥

summary; sam asks you to cut his hair

wc; 1,193

warnings; just kissing, this is beta so apologize for spelling mistakes

authors note; hiiii ☺️ i’ve been in such a writers block but i think it’s over (don’t hold me to that) so im gonna try to write more. this fic is heavily inspired by that one scene in friends where kathy cuts chandlers hair if you couldn’t tell

⛥ ⛥ ⛥

“can you cut my hair?”

the words slipped out of sam’s mouth. he only half meant it. he couldn’t ask you to do that for him; not when he could go to a barber for a few bucks.

sam loved him long hair, he did, but there were times that it got so frustrating. the brushing, the knots, the maintenance, and not to mention sam winchester had to worst bed head. although, you thought it was adorable.

you and sam were nothing more than best friends. you have been for a while. sure there was longing glances, accidental brushing of hands, the rare occasions where there wasn’t enough rooms in the motel so you’d have to share a bed. but you were just friends. that’s all it will and ever be.

dean hated it, too much tension for him. it made him angry. he just wished you two would grow a pair and do something about it.

the question had slightly taken you aback. you hadn’t really ever cut hair before. sure you had cut your dolls hair, a couple botched hair cuts in your awkward phases, but nothing in a professional sort of way.

“of course, sam.”

a small smile appeared on sams face, “cool.”

you’ve never really paid attention to the length that hard until right now. “it does look like it’s getting a little long, doesn’t it.”

sam chuckled to himself, “yeah, getting hard to manage. i don’t know how you girls do this everyday.”

you giggled at his words, “don’t get me started.”

it was evening now and you began setting up for sam’s haircut. you smiled to yourself getting the bathroom ready for him. a chair from the small table in the motel room was brought in along with a sharp pair of scissors and the top sheet from your motel bed.

yours and the brothers room was conjoined so thankfully you didn’t have to walk outside to get to their room. the door has been propped open and you walked over to get sam.

sam looked up at you from his computer with big doe eyes, the big doe eyes you love. he smiled, closing his computer, and getting up from the table and following you to your side of the joined rooms.

a chuckle escaped his lips as he walked into your bathroom, admiring the little set up you had going on. “wow, you’re really going all out, aren’t ya?”

“well, i wanted to give you a decent experience for what i can and what i have.” you gestured to the chair, “now, if you’d like to take a seat sir, then we can get started.” a posh accent came out with that sentence.

sam matched your accent, “don’t mind if i do.”

you grabbed the thin sheer from the floor and draped it around sam, the same way a barber would, securing it with a hair tie from wrist.

“how short do you want it?” you asked while brushing his hair out.

you started to run your fingers through his hair and getting a feel for all of it. all of sams thoughts had slipped out of his head. he was distracted, and rightfully so. sam practically has to bite back a moan it felt so good.

“i- um, i was thinking, mm-maybe like how it was a few years ago?” he stuttered out.

“mm, okay.” you removed you finger from his hair and grabbed the scissors. “hold tight,” you jokingly said.

sam just closed his eyes, trying to relax his mind from his thoughts. his shoulder slumped and his jaw unclenched as you carefully snipped away a little length from his hair.

the small clumps of hair fell down and tickled sams neck as they fell down. the sound of the scissors and the small sound of you humming filled the air of the dingy motel bathroom.

minutes passed silently before you spoke up, “okay, i think i’m almost done.”

you swiveled around to stand in front of him, cutting the hairs that framed his face. your were dangerously close to him, sam’s eyes adverted looking at anything else in this bathroom.

“and, done.” you dragged out with the finished touches.

the scissors now sat on the counter as you moved to stand behind him again. your eyes looked at him through the mirror, you were proud at your work. a smile crept onto your face.

“wow, it looks amazing,” sam boasted.

“thank you,” you gleamed, moving to stan’s in front of him.

you bent down in front of him, slightly leaning against the counter behind you.

“w-what are you doing?” sam questioned, adverting his gaze once more while you tugged gently at the hair on the side of his head. his voice barely above a whisper.

“i’m just seeing if it’s even up close.” you said in the same tone, just above a whisper.

“oh.” the only response sam could mutter out.

your eyes dart between to strands you’re holding on either side of his head. you slowly stopped looking at his hair and settled into his eyes.

the room became thick and your breathing became heavy. sams eyes flickered to your lips for a brief moment.

“it, uh-” you were cut off my sam smashing his lips against yours. it was something you didn’t except yet you’ve dreamed of this moment before.

your lips mold together so perfectly. sam tasted of mint, from the gum he was chewing earlier. the knot from the sheet around his neck comes undone by your doing as you both stand up.

sam gently pushed you up against the counter, you were practically sitting on it.

you had gotten lost in the feel of sam. his hands roaming every inch he could get to while your hands would switch between moving up and down his torso and tangled in his hair.

the two of you were so lost you didn’t hear dean enter your side of the rooms. “hey, how’s it going in h-” his words stopped once he saw the two of you making out.

pulling away from each other, you looked at dean, who was chuckling to himself as he walked away “finally, finally, finally,” was all you two heard as he his footsteps drew further.

sam looked back to you to discover you had already turned back to face him, a smile worked its way to your face, followed by a small chuckle.

sam rests his forehead agaisnt yours, “i’ve been waiting to do that for so long.”

“yeah, me too.”

you reach up to kiss sam again, this time in a slower kiss. sam is the first to pull away, he smiles at you doing so.

he glances up in the mirror, “i really do like this haircut, thanks a lot.” you’re more than proud of yourself and how much sam loved it, it all made you smile big.

sam kisses you on the cheek, “c’mon, let’s go lay down.” he took your hand and led you to your bed.

and that’s what the two of you did; for the whole night you held each other close, something you’ve both been longing for.

⛥ ⛥ ⛥

[need-a-name-101]

You know in that episode of how I met your mother where they find out that Barney always looks good in pictures no matter what. Yeah that’s Dick Grayson. No doubt.

A paparazzi is trying to catch him off guard while he suddenly sneezes, later they check the camera it’s Dick with the most dazzling smile.

Jason tries to take a picture of him when he is barely conscious, Dick is smiling with a peace sign and he looks good.

Tim on purpose collides with Dick in manor with hot coffee in his hands to have it spill down on Dick’s white shirt, Babs clicks a picture as Dick is telling Tim it’s okay. In the picture yes the shirt has spilt coffee but Dick looks poised and handsome.

Jason makes a deal with Damian to have Dami paint Dick’s face as he sleeps. They proceed to click a picture, Dick is on the sofa in a pose, laying on his side with a hand on his hip and the other supporting his head.

Wally tries to take a picture mid vomit, and boom there stands Dick Grayson with disheveled look, which looks as if done on purpose. (It wasn’t Wally knows, at the start of the night it was slicked back) and the top buttons of the shirt open, Dick is giving a blinding smile to the camera. No vomit in sight.

Jason draws penises on Dicks face, when he looks back on the picture. He face is clean, Dick is giving the camera a lopsided smile and when Jason looks up Dick is no longer there.

Steph tries to click a picture when Nightwing losses his balance and slams face first into a wall. Some blood drips down from his nose and yet he looks poised. He is giving the camera a thumbs up.

Duke tries to get one as a thug tries to slam Dick on the hood of the car. In the picture Nightwing is perched on the thugs back, whose face was smashed on the hood of the car by Dick.

Cass tried to take one when Dick nearly chocked on some food at a gala. When she looks at the picture it’s Dick holding a glass of Champagne (he was not holding that before) and leaning on the wall beside him.

Tim looks back on all his stalker photos he had taken and realises it’s the same case in all of them. He has one photo in which Robin Dick had fallen in Gotham Harbour and was soaking wet, still in the photo he looked sort of posed, straight back, a slightly tilted head.

Cass breaks in Dick’s apartment to catch him off guard. Dick had just woken up. She clicked a picture and it’s Dick in a shirt and shorts, in the perfect I just got out bed look. But he had just literally gotten out of bed.

Babs tried to take one as Dick just got out of a shower when they were dating. He walked out with a towel around his waist, and he was drying his hair with another towel. In that he didn’t even pose, the photo just looked fucking amazing.

She even went back and saw all the pics they had when they were in school and In all Dick looked great. Even the one she had managed to click when she and Dick had messed up a chemistry experiment because they were talking and parts of Dicks lab coat were signed.

Bruce banned taking photos on patrol because all of them tried to take a picture of Nightwing as he fought some low level thugs. Which lead to robin getting distracted as he tried to take a picture while grappling and hit a wall. Red Hood forgot to switch off his flash which lead to his position being revealed , and he got shot. Red Robin lost balance and fell of a gargoyle. Spoiler got distracted while sneaking around and blew their positions. On the rare occasions when Signal was with them he tried to take a picture and walked right into the drug deal they were about to bust surprising the criminals. Orphan got distracted and nearly got hit on the head. Even Oracle got distracted while trying to get embarrassing pictures of Nightwing while she was supposed to be finding a bank robber. She found the robber but not the a single embarrassing moment of Nightwing. No one had gotten the picture they were trying to click.

Even Bruce has no idea how Dick pulls it off. He refuses to partake in this silly competition set up by his kids. The betting pool is so huge that it involves all of Dick’s friends, the JLA and most of the people in the caped community. The money in the pool by now must be more than what Bruce makes in a year.

[miss-tc-nova]

S/O Inexperienced in Relationships - TWST Housewardens

Not a day has gone by that I haven't been working on this. I'm SO sorry this took so long but I interpreted this in a few different ways and had to decide how I wanted to write it. But it's done!!!

Also, sorry for not using a fem!reader. I've apparently conditioned myself to write around that.

As for the question of my patience, I've answered that here, lol.

Premise: The Prefect is acting a bit odd

Words:

Riddle: 308

Leona: 357

Azul: 296

Kalim: 364

Vil: 351

Idia: 400

Malleus: 362

~~~~~

Riddle

Riddle has started to become suspicious.

You almost seem paranoid—second guessing every single move you make. The foods you choose, the clothes you wear, and apparently even the path you take to class. There is nothing that seems to get the green light the first time around.

At first he lets it go, seeing as it doesn’t interfere with his duties. But as the problem persists, it does begin to interfere in the relationship. This wasn’t a thing before you started dating.

He never thought he’d frown upon fastidiousness, but you checking and double checking that little book of yours has interrupted far too many activities and is beginning to irk him.

So he demands the book only to be stunned at the Queen’s rules written inside.

You had been spending hours upon hours trying to abide the Queen’s rules that Riddle knew by heart.

However, Riddle has recently come to terms with the idea that not everything has to be perfect—that people can just live. So while he admires your dedication to adhere to something he finds important, he’s concerned for your wellbeing.

When he questions why you would go to such lengths for this, you shyly, embarrassedly admit that you were afraid of losing him. You’ve never had many friends, let alone significant others. You didn’t really know what made a strong, enduring relationship.

But you knew the rules were important to him.

Riddle finally understands, warmth bleeding through his chest as a smile pulls at his lips.

“I don’t mind if you know the logistics of a relationship or not. What matters is that we build this one together. And while I admire your dedication to study the Queen’s rules, I would much rather you preserve your health. You’ll learn them in due time. Until then, please, just be yourself—my beautiful rose.”

~~~~~

Leona

Leona’s ire is growing.

This is not what he thought your relationship would be like.

Sure, he didn’t expect you to be throwing yourself at his lap or hanging off him, but to not even smile when he approaches you? If he didn’t know better, he’d say you weren’t even dating.

He’s starting to go out of his way to get a reaction out of you. Taking things out of your hands and pretending to examine them—sometimes returning them, sometimes not. Leaning against you, and if you manage to resist, he’ll just go limp until you crumple beneath his weight.

In some rare occasions, if you’re having a conversation with someone, he’ll just pick you up and walk off. Honestly, he’s impressed you haven’t snapped at him yet.

Eventually, while your attention is focused on studying, Leona snaps. He snatches the book from your hand and hurls it over the balcony of his room, leaving you stunned.

When you ask if he’s okay, he turns the question back on you. When you insist that there’s nothing wrong, he demands to know if you regret agreeing to go out with him.

Denying that accusation is not enough as Leona persists that you “don’t act like it.” Your retort turns out to be that you don’t know how to “act like it.”

His confusion finally gives you a moment to explain. You never had many relationships with anyone, including romantic kinds, so you have no idea what you’re doing in this relationship. All you really know is that Leona isn’t into clingy types so you tried your best to be the opposite.

It takes Leona a moment to soak in the information before he promptly tells you that you’re an idiot through a smirk.

“Look, I can’t say I’m a relationship expert but do what you want. Pretendin’ to be someone you think makes me happy is just stupid. And clearly not workin’ for ya, so you might as well go back to bein’ that person I asked out in the botanical gardens. Now get over here. We’re takin’ a nap. No, you can get your book later.”

~~~~~

Azul

Azul regrets his decision.

At first, he thought having you take on some of his responsibilities was a great idea. He didn’t even ask you to; you volunteered.

You can easily run the Lounge in his absence, scheduling shifts, obtaining stock, and whatever else that needed doing. Hell, he even trusts you to facilitate contracts on his behalf.

He’s thrilled to have the free time to look into new ventures.

Except, with all this free time, he starts to notice that you have none.

You’re always on the move, always writing, always busy. And it seems to be taking its toll. You look tired, the spark in your eyes gone.

Regret sinks in, mostly because he can’t remember the last time the two of you actually spent time together.

It takes several attempts to pry you away from your work to finally talk and Azul starts right off with reducing your workload. When you refuse, he persists, his suspicion growing until he finally asks why you’re being so stubborn.

You crack. The last thing you want is to lose him because you aren’t good enough. Friends, let alone partners, aren’t something you understand very well for lack of experience. Without that knowledge, you concluded that becoming as useful as you could was best.

A smile tugs at his lips as the man pulls you into his arms.

“My darling, I promise I’ll be just fine running things without you. But more importantly, I promise that nothing will change between us. And while most may find experience advantageous, I think I more enjoy the idea of us learning to be together, together. Now, I’ve taken the liberty of clearing both our schedules for the day. And I would enjoy nothing more than to spend it with you.”

~~~~~

Kalim

Kalim is…confused.

He loves you and he is absolutely basking in all the affection you shower him with.

But it doesn’t feel like you anymore.

Shortly after you began dating, you began fawning over him at every opportunity. Your arms were always wrapped around him and you always kissed his face when entering or leaving his presence.

The thing that really clued Kalim in to something being wrong was the constant smile on your face. You had a beautiful smile when it was genuine. But this smile is forced.

On top of that, you aren’t the kind of person to be this overly affectionate. It must be draining to keep up such an energetic façade. And the last thing Kalim wants is for someone close to him to pretend to be someone they’re not.

He mulls over how to ask you about something that you might find sensitive.

Then he catches you without your mask. You look tired and anxious. And he can’t hold it in anymore.

Ignoring your smile, Kalim gets to the point, asking point blank what’s wrong.

You deny at first, but he begs you not to lie to him. He cares too much and, after what happened with Jamil, he refuses to let someone else suffer in silence if there’s anything he can do.

So you tell him. You tell him that you were pretty much alone in your world, no friends or romantic partners. You don’t know how to act or what’s expected; you’re even more lost when it comes to dating a freaking prince. You can’t offer anything that he didn’t already have. All you have are your feelings for him.

Hearing your worries, Kalim drags you into his arms. Of course he’s happy that you would shower him with love, but he wants the real you, all the time.

“Mmm, I don’t really know what romantic relationships are like either. But I don’t think it really matters. It’s okay to not be happy all the time. I mean, I love seeing you smile, but I love you no matter how you feel. So please don’t pretend just for me. Oh, there it is—the most beautiful smile.”

~~~~~

Vil

Vil holds his tongue a bit too long.

Initially, he’s impressed by the sudden, significant effort you put into your health and appearance.

This included morning workouts, tracking every meal and drink, and spending hours making sure you look perfect for the day. Not a hair out of place nor a frayed hem—all the best you could do with what you had.

And Vil encouraged you. Yes, he noticed that you weren’t exactly thrilled with the new regime, but no one really is in the beginning. But he wanted to support you.

Yet the longer he observes your efforts, the more he realizes that this attempt to “better” yourself is having the opposite effect.

Sure, you’re more glam, but your emotional state hasn’t improved. In fact, you seem exhausted. You smile and act bright, but a true actor could see through it. He’s ashamed he let it get this far.

But he’s not letting it continue.

He catches you on the way to your next workout and gets to the point, asking why the sudden uptake of your rigorous routine.

You tell him you’d always meant to be healthier and just never had the motivation to. So he retorts asking what this new motivation might be.

This is where you hesitate, growing embarrassed. Vil’s gentle insistence coaxes your worries into the open. You were a loner in your home world so you have no idea how you managed to catch the eye of one of Twisted Wonderland’s biggest celebrities.

You gush about how perfect Vil is but you’re just you. You’re terrified to lose him, so all you could think to do is adopt Vil’s way of life.

A soft laughter escapes him as he presses a kiss to your head.

“While I admire your efforts to emulate my lifestyle, the last thing I want is for you to be miserable every day. You can make little changes; I’ll support your every step. But even if you don’t, you’re still perfect. And who has a better eye for perfection than I do? That’s right. You are my perfect, little gem..”

~~~~~

Idia

Idia may have missed his cue.

A new patch released on one of his games, so of course he was lost to the world.

Throughout the whole thing, you kept quiet, never interrupting his game as he spent endless hours hunched over his keyboard.

However, the moment that end credit scene concludes, the young man sits straight, rubs his eyes, and immediately notices a distinct lack of you.

Ortho informs him that you haven’t been around for a few days. Seeing as you spent nearly all your free time with Idia since you two started dating, that sounds suspicious.

When his messages receive no reply, he forces himself to trudge out of the dorm for the only person he’d brave society for.

In Ramshackle, he finds you doing homework. But as he opens his mouth to tell you about his fantastical adventure, he stops himself. Even as you look up at him, your mouth is shut, but even more, you look sad.

Awkward as hell, Idia sits beside you. He’s grateful for your courtesy of letting him enjoy his game, but even he admits that ignoring you was rude.

So he asks why you didn’t interrupt him.

Your shoulders shrug. Idia had been excited for this expansion. You’d never been in a relationship before, but it felt wrong to rain on his fun. Besides, you were used to being alone so you didn’t see a difference.

He stares, lips twisted shut. Then he stands and leaves, marching straight back to his dorm where he gets to work for the better part of two days—including shipping.

Then he returns to drag you back to Ignihyde. His cluttered room is a little more so—filled with empty boxes and wrappers. But right next to his desk is another, set up very similarly. Meanwhile, Idia himself fidgets, a tint of pink on his face.

“So, yeah, I was a major jerk for going AWOL and I totally deserve to be reemed. But I’d totally take being interrupted over tanking our relationship. ‘Sides, the OG you is way more valuable than any platinum. I know! Cringe! But, if you’re interested, maybe we can just party up instead? Yeah, it’s got the latest specs and I already downloaded the best RPG so we can play together. No worries, let Gloomurai show you how to stomp those other noobs! Why are you laughing? Oh geeze.”

~~~~~

Malleus

Malleus can tell there’s something, but isn’t entirely sure what.

The shift was minute, the slow withdraw.

All was as it should be when your relationship began. Malleus could not have been happier.

Then the creases worked their way across your face. Sure, you smiled with Malleus, but when conversation lulled, it vanished and your eyes turn downcast.

You always seemed lost in whatever concerns occupied your mind and, soon enough, even Malleus couldn’t regain your attention very easily.

Inevitably, he gains some clue when a song of praises of the great heir come exploding from Sebek’s mouth. As the freshman demeans another student for some trifling reason, the dragon distinctly notes your aura recoil. The floor has your attention and you’ve never looked so uneasy.

This worries him. All his life people had kept their distance, but to have the love of his life do so as well—he’s not sure he could stand it.

So the prince bides his time, waiting for a moment of privacy before his fear becomes unbearable. And with a heavy heart, he asks if his status has finally gotten to you.

You bashfully admit that it might have and he feels his heart cracking.

But you continue. Your experience in relationships is miniscule. You’ve only just begun to learn what it means to have friends but in romance your knowledge is woefully non-existent. The thought of maybe one day needing to lead a whole kingdom of people is terrifying. What if you mess it up?

Word by word, Malleus begins to realize that this isn’t about him or his status. He scorns himself for thinking you would care about that; nevertheless, it does ease his own worries.

Because he has nothing but faith in you.

“After everything that’s happened, it’s peculiar that you worry about such things. I may not be well versed in relationships myself, but I’m not concerned with whether or not you’re good for my kingdom. You’re good for me—perfect just as you are. And together we’ll learn and be an example of what it truly means to care for one another. Mm? Are you blushing? Was it something I said?”

~~~~~

Nova’s Twisted Wonderland Masterlist

[weemssapphic]

Larissa x Reader headcanons ?

This is just a random assortment of headcanons I have, some NSFW some not!

Larissa is usually an early riser due to work and has made it a habit to make coffee/tea for you in the mornings - on the rare occasions where she sleeps in, you do the same for her, and it manages to make her blush every time.

You usually have to remind her to eat - she often forgets when she's stressed and focused on work, and you're often reminding her to take breaks and have a snack (or drink water, to which she'll reply that the water in her coffee counts).

Larissa is a messy sleeper and drools in her sleep. Sometimes she even snores softly. She denies both vehemently, but you find it adorable, the stark contrast to how poised she is during her waking hours.

All of the pins in her hair can get quite painful after a long day, and there's nothing either of you love more than you insisting on pulling the pins out of her updo and massaging her scalp, as she lets her guard down and lets you take care of her. Also, she'll never say no to foot rubs after kicking off her heels for the evening.

She's always so in control in her professional life that she secretly enjoys giving up that control to you (once she realizes she can trust you, of course). This can look like her letting you make decisions like what to eat for dinner, or like relinquishing all control in the bedroom and letting you dominate her.

At the beginning of your relationship, it took Larissa ages to realize you were flirting with her - and even longer to open up to you fully. Once she does, though, she's all in, and you're as much of a safety net for her as she is for you.

After almost forgetting your anniversary one month due to a stressful week at work, she's put it in her calendar and sets reminders for herself, intent on spoiling you and showing you she cares. In spite of her busy schedule, she manages to make time for you and tries to remember little details about you, even things you've said in passing.

She's not big on PDA - it took her a while to work up to being comfortable holding hands or giving chaste kisses in public, and she won't initiate PDA in any sort of professional setting. That doesn't mean no one knows you're together, however - she's happy to mention you to anyone, any chance she gets, and everyone knows you're together.

One thing she does like to do in public however is touch your lower back when she's walking behind you - she knows the touch drives you wild and, sometimes, enjoys riling you up a bit knowing what'll happen when you get a moment of privacy.

You can read Larissa like a book, and the opposite is true as well - when you're out in public, you can tell by subtle expressions how juicy the debrief on the ride home is going to be, and there's nothing either of you love more than just talking to one another.

Larissa can get quite jealous, though she's too stubborn to admit it. It makes her more clingy, which you think is cute, but she'd deny it until she's blue in the face.

Larissa loves your tits. Looking at them, touching them, making your nipples hard - it's one of her favorite (sexual) things about you.

She's a huge fan of oral sex - especially giving, and she loves dressing up in lingerie and letting you order her around and use her mouth for your own pleasure.

Her lower abdomen is an erogenous zone for her, and she loves when you kiss her there. Her neck and her inner thighs are other sensitive spots for her, and she goes weak in the knees when you kiss behind her ears.

[prettyforwoso]

Dancing Juice

Barcelona femeni x Teen reader

word count: 2500

Summary: teenage reader has a little too much to drink on a night out with the team, but all the girl wants to do is dance.

Warnings: alcohol, vomiting, some swearing

For context: reader lives with Alexia requests open :)

You are the highest you have ever been, dancing like the kid you are in the change rooms post-match. A pure and smooth win for the team has the us celebrating. Blasting music and singing echoing of the hard walls of the room, shaking from the synchronized jumping and dancing of the team.

You can barely feel your body, concluding from a mix of your teammates picking you up into the air and your consistent jumping to the beat of whatever song was playing. You felt as though you were cloud nine, and that feeling didn’t leave you side all night, infect, in the coming hours it would only get more intense.

You had all showered and cleaned yourself up before piling into Ubers and heading to a club around the corner, you are still only 16, but managed to get in as Frido knows the owners. You wore a little black top, paired with a white Demin mini skirt and a pair of sneakers, most of the team wore the same sort of thing.

You walk into the crowded room, a strong strobe light being to only lighting too the space. Your eyes laid themselves upon team, sitting cosy in a large booth as members piled through the door. The next notable feature of the room being the dance floor, you would be spending most of the night there.

“Hola y/n, you clean up well” you are greeted by Ona who helps you find a spot to sit at the booth. You have let your natural curls breathe for the night, a rare sight for the girls, who would consistently tell you to stop straightening it.

Most the girls hold drinks in their hands, a sight which made you immediately uncomfortable, it wasn’t anything to do with them, but you always hated when they would drink, and you would have to stay entirely sober. It makes you feel a little left out in a way. Alexia has known about this little issue of yours for a few months, having had pulled you aside once at a party when you had completely shut done when everyone had gotten absolutely pissed of their heads. You confessed your hatred for the act, but still Alexia would never let you have a drink when out. Only on the occasion would she pour you a small glass of something at home, where she could really keep an eye on you and make sure you were okay. It’s not like you were entirely innocent, you had gotten drunk a few times with your school friends, which always resulted in in a heavy scolding from Alexia and other teammates who she would dob on you to.

“Why don’t you have a drink Bebita, as a treat for your amazing work today” Alexia says, putting down her glass on the table, looking you in the eye.

You feel a smile approach your face. “are you sure?” you ask, that last thing you needed was Alexia telling you off the second you got home.

Instead of answering, she pushed a shot glass across the table. You look back, eyes wide as she nods her head. You lift the glass in your hands looking at it, questions your choices.

“Go on”

Your mouth feels hot as the liquid pours through your body, making you feel giddy. You screw you face up in discomfort. That was bad, but you somehow want more.

You sit in the booth for a bit, sipping on the cocktail Jenni had gotten you. Some of the girls had starting dancing, you yearned to join them, you feel like you have so much energy, like you could go all night.

“Voy a bailar” you announce, standing up, your legs leading you to the sound of the dance floor.

“Be careful y/n” someone says as you turn your back from the booth.

Your quick to find Ona and Ingrid on the floor, jumping with drinks in their hands, screaming the lyrics to the song playing. They pull you into them and once you start you don’t stop. You have always been a dancer at parties, much preferring it to sitting around talking. You dance your little heart out with the girls, a few more joining as the songs play, you feel like your spinning, strobe lights so bright you can’t see the person in front of you, it’s amazing. All you can hear is the screaming singing of your teammates and the random others around you.

“I’m getting another drink” Ingrid tells the group. “You want one?” she asks One who nods her head.

“Me too” you butt in. Ingrid smiles.

“Did Alexia say you could drink?” she questions with a raised brow.

“Yeah somehow” you answer.

“You better not be lying” she says as she begins to walk off.

“Would I ever” you yell back. She lets out a small laugh before walking away, rolling her eyes.

While you wait you head back to the booth to see some of the older girls, Aleixa, Jenni, Lucy and Frido look to be in deep discussion about who knows what. The current song playing is one you don’t know, so you take it as an excuse to take a break from the lights and loud music. As you get over, Lucy wraps and arm around your side from her sat position, not looking up from the conversation.

“Guys come dance” you begin to plead… “its so fun, stop being boring” your head is swaying from side to side as your words find themselves on your tongue.

The girls look up from their conversation at your pleading.

“In a bit Bonita” Frido replies, sharing a kind smile. Lucys thumb gently rubs your waist as she looks up at you.

“Aghhhhh” you roll your eyes and tilt your head back, looking up at the ceiling.

“Y/n, Drinks” you here Ingrid yell across the room, now connected at the hip to Mapi.

You begin the walk over to her, grabbing your drink saying thank you. You push down your fourth shot of the night and sip on the drink Ingrid had gotten you.

The booth, now absents by you, look at one and other.

“She is so drunk” Jenni says with a gentle laugh.

“She’s fine” Alexia says with a smile, lifting her glass to her lips. “It will teach her a lesson”.

Your still going, not a tired bone in your body, alcohol is fun.

“Omg I love with song” you scream with excitement in Onas’s ear as you dance along side one and other. You sing every lyric as if you had memorized the fast paced rap in the past. Yous hips move from side to side, arms in the air, hair down in the motion of it all. The girls are impressed with your non-stop energy.

Its all soon to turn south though, as you feel a pit in your stomach. Your head felt like it was being slammed into a wall. You attempt to dance the feeling away. It’s not working.

You’re on the floor of the club bathroom all too soon. Throwing up what felt like a lung. Your knees aching on the floor and face in hands, regret starts to hit.

The team, who were all keeping a very close eye on your energetic dancing frame all night were suddenly slightly panicked when you couldn’t be spotted in the crowed of dancers.

However, their concerns were quickly put to rest when Frido found you in the bathroom. She had walked in and called out your name.

“Y/n? You in here?” she yelled out.

You took a deep breath before calling back. “yeah” your voice is muffled from the throwing up and tears of pain. You don’t even hear her push to door of the cubical open, the only indicator that she is in the space with you being her front pressing against your back as she kneels done behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist.

“I feel like shit Frido” you say, placing your head back to lean on her shoulder. She stocks a hand along your forehead, down to your chin.

“I’m not surprised darling” she says gently. “Little miss energy has finally crashed”.

“I have not, I still want to dance” you whine, extending the last syllables.

“I think we better get you home little one” she says, looking down at your soft eyes.

“No, I want to dance” you say sitting up too fast, quickly leaning back against her.

“We can dance at Alexias, what do you think?” she bargains.

You let out a loud disapproving sigh, “As long as you promise”.

The car ride home was anything but uneventful. Lucy drives with Jenni is the passenger seat. You in the back, squeezed between Alexia and Frido. Your head is rested on Alexia as you quietly sing songs to yourself. None of the girls have told you to shut up, so you happily carry on. You do your little dancing in the back, enjoying yourself once again.

“Oh and the happy drunk is back” Jenni says with a playful eyeroll, looking at you in the mirror.

“She was never gone Jenni, just needed a rest” you snap back, getting a laugh from the women is the car. You bounce in your seat, regaining your energy.

“Lucyyyyy” to start, you can feel her eye roll.

“What little one?” she questions.

“Can we pull over; I want to dance” you start to beg.

“No darling, we are almost at Alexias, and we need to get you to bed” she says sternly.

“WHAT!” you whisper yell at the top of your whisper lungs. “Frido you LIAR” you say, almost in tears.

Frido mentally face palms herself. “We can still dance baby girl”.

You put your face into Alexias’s neck, upset. She pats your head at places kisses on your hairline.

Once you arrive back at home, Alexia picks you up and brings you inside, despite your protests. She sits you on the couch as Lucy grabs you some water, Jenni getting some vomit bags for the long night ahead.

Lucy hands Alexia the water, who then hands it to you.

“Drink” she says simply.

“Only if you promise I can dance” you snap back.

“Bebita, just drink the fucking water” Alexia instructs, frustrated.

“NO! I want confirmation that I get to dance” you say, acting like a smart ass, crossing your arms, tilting your chin up.

Alexia simply grabs the back of your neck in response, tilting you head up further, pressing the glass to your lips. You open you mouth as she slowly pours the water down your throat. Her tight grip on your hair relaxes when the glass is empty. She brings the glass down from your lips and presses a kiss on your forehead, contradicting her previous harsh movements.

“Good girl bebita” she says, nudging her thumb on your cheek. “Do you still want to dance, or would you prefer to get some rest?”

You look up at her with tired sleepy eyes, nudging yourself into her, she wraps her arms around you and lays you down on the couch. “You need to stay where we can see you for a bit, little one. Okay?”

You simply nod.

The four of them stay around for a bit longer while you sleep peacefully on the couch. They have a bit more to drink between them and gossip before Lucy, Jenni and Frido head home, all pressing a kiss on your sleeping face before saying goodnight.

Alexia is sat on the other side of the couch, staring directly at your sleeping body. All Alexia ever wanted to do was take care of you. She loves you so deeply. She thinks you are the strongest girl in the world, knowing what you have been though, yet you continue to keep a smile on not only your own face, the faces of those around you. She saw the way you never failed to make people laugh, even the shyest of people.

You begin to wake up, with the feeling of eyes on you. Alexia smiles at you with a tilt of her head.

“Let’s get you changed and in bed. Hm?” She says lifting you by the waist as you wrap your legs around her, head tucked into her neck.

You’re soon changed and snuggled into your bed. Alexia sits on the end of it, watching you fall softly in and out of sleep before she gets up to leave for her own bed.

“Wait Alexia” she spins, it’s the first words she’s heard you say in a few hours. “Can you stay, I don’t feel good on my own tonight” you explain.

She lets out a loud breath, making her way back towards you. “Scoot over then” she says lifting the covers and laying done behind you, you roll over, so your face is in her chest. Her arms wrap around you and pull you closer.

“Goodnight Bebita”

“Night Alexia”

[em1e]

⠀若年 // THIEVES AMONG US ⠀ ༝ ༝ wakatoshi ushijima ⠀ ༝ ༝ 1k words ⠀ ⚠︎ fluff to make up for the heartbreak i've been posting ⠀— ushijima is tired of having no hoodies left

ushijima wakatoshi was a lot of things. 

standing at a strong 189.5 cm, all muscle and intimidation to those who don’t know him. quiet and kind to those who do. 

patience is not something that ushiwaka finds himself lacking in the slightest. it’s actually one of the few things he prides himself in, tolerance for things at another level compared to others. on rare occasion does he find it wearing thin, and today seems to be one of those rarities. 

he’s looked everywhere for the stash of hoodies he keeps hidden in his room, locked away from your sticky fingers that manage to take home every other jumper, t-shirt, or jacket you can grab. as the days begin to get colder, leaves turning and falling off of their trees with fall turning to winter, he finds it necessary to have one of the few hoodies he has left under his roof before he goes out the door, and he cannot seem to find a single one. 

he almost wants to be amazed at how quickly you manage to grab them - unknowingly to his analytical eye, but frustration bleeds its way under his skin as he stands from looking under his bed for the third time. 

not in his closet, not shoved in the backs of his drawers, not even at the bottom his laundry hamper. poof, gone. disappeared into the wind with no evidence to prove they were ever there in the first place. 

ushijima heaves a sigh, pulling on his old, thin volleyball jacket with the decision of that needing to be enough. it’d have to be, with the fact of not having anything else to pull on over his long sleeve looming bitterly over his head. 

and to think you hate the color of his shiratorizawa jacket - now worn and dull compared to how it looked when he was still in high school. but, if he had to pick between your distaste for the jacket or be uncomfortably chilly for your date,  he’d choose the former. at least then, he can have some amount of satisfaction with being able to point out that you are the reason he’s been pushed to such measures. 

this bit of spite is enough to spur him on to your house to pick you up for your date. 

you looked excited when you pulled open the door, only for your face to drop and your nose to scrunch as you take in the sight of his jacket. faded purple clashing with the off-whitish-yellow shirt he’s decided to pair it with. 

“waka . . .” you almost whine as he steps inside so you can slide on your shoes, “we’re gonna take pictures, you don’t have any other jackets to wear?” 

“i think you know better than i do the answer to that.” the baritone of his voice cutting through you as you stand on your toes to press a quick kiss to his lips. it forms into a giggle when he returns it, leaving you to be the one to step away so you can finish getting ready. 

“‘m not sure what you mean,” you wave off easily, but you grab his hand to pull him towards your room so he doesn’t hover in the entryway while you put the final pieces of your outfit together, “can let you borrow one of mine, though.” 

he makes a noise, low in the back of his throat, that tells you he knows you mean one of the many you’ve robbed from him, but he doesn’t voice a complaint because even the short walk to your home was enough to leave goosebumps on his skin - his shiratorizawa jacket doing nothing to protect him from the elements. 

he watches as you grab a sweater of your own to pull over your shoulders, cute and matching the outfit you’ve picked perfectly, before getting on your knees beside your bed and pushing some stuff around under it, pulling out a large storage container with a huff. 

“don’t be upset,” you’re starting to say, popping open the lid and taking it off to reveal . . . every single hoodie he’s been missing in the past three years you’ve been dating. 

“how . . .” he starts, brows shooting up in shock before they furrow, “why?” 

“i like the way you smell,” you pout, puffing out your cheeks to fight the heat rising to them as you avoid his stare to dig through the tub, “s’nice for when you’re out of town for games.” 

you pull out one of the neatly folded hoodies you’d been searching for. a sage green that goes well with your own outfit and the shirt he’s got on. 

you offer it to him with a grin, “i can let you borrow this one, but i’ll need it back.” you say matter-of-factly, pulling it back to yourself when he doesn’t say anything to the comment, “i need confirmation you’ll give it back!” 

you have the audacity to look serious right now. deadly so, as if your life may be on the line without this very hoodie. 

“i’ll give it back.” he affirms, “but i need at least three back if you don’t want to ever see me in this jacket again.” he gestures to the worn jacket he’s began to pull off his shoulders, offering it to you in exchange for the green one still being held hostage in your hands. 

your eyes flick from the shiratorizawa jacket to the container at your feet. thinking. calculating. 

“fine,” you hold the hoodie out to him, “but i get to pick which ones.” 

he pulls the hoodie over his head, just barely catching the way your eyes eat at the portion of his abs that shows when his shirt rides up. he grins, “i’ll take that.”

[tac-the-unseen]

hiiii how r u? ❤️

can you do alphabet SFW for hannigramx reader? 💕

Hannigram x Reader SFW alphabet 

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Hannibal is an acts of service kind of guy. He cooks, he cleans, he helps with work, But that's just surface level stuff he does for everyone he's around. When it comes to relationships Hannibal is more of words of affirmation and physical touch. 

Will has one setting, Quality time. Sitting down to watch a show, Fishing, Long walks, Puzzles and games. All stuff he enjoys and likes sharing with his partners!

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Hannibal and Will are tough nuts to crack. To have to prove yourself as trustful and reliable before they start a relationship with you. (Hannibal may or may not have had his sights set on you before he even spoke to you.)

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Hannibal enjoys occasional cuddles and hugs. He definitely needs them from time to time, but can go for a long while before he's desperate for affection.

Will simply doesn't like being touched. Tough

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Both men want a quite simple lives…. eventually…but they still have a little bit more murder in them 

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Hannibal might kill you and eat you OR let you go on with your life (he will always be there, you just won't know it)

Will is a respectful gentleman and understands not all relationships work out. He'll have a long chat with you before parting ways.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

They Both want to get married. Simple as that! (Hannibal is totally a groomzilla)

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Yes and No. 

They do have Gentle moments with each other, but they do get covered in blood quite often. But surprisingly the Gore can be very soft and gentle from time to time. Even down right romantic if you catch them on the right occasion. 

But you're dating two cannibals, so you already knew that.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Sometimes, they like to keep the PDA to a minimum. 

Also hugs isn't always their kind of affection, They will absolutely give hugs if you ask, but they like words of affirmation a bit more.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

YEARS. These men use verbal word play to convey affection. If they outright say ‘I Love you’, you can expect them or you to be dying.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Absolutely. They do undoubtedly have confidence in you and the relationship, but they just can't help a guy testing their smooth moves on you. 

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Kisses are pretty rare When it comes to Hannibal and Will. Kisses are saved for special occasions and bedroom activities. BUT, if it is to occur, they're pretty soft and sensual.

Hannibal Targets the lips, knuckles, shoulders, and chest.

Will Targets the lips, neck, face, and stomach.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

……Oh…..good?......RIP Abby….

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Hannibal is up bright and early at 4:00 am. He has a whole morning routine that takes him an hour to complete. At 5:00 he makes breakfast and goes through all the appointments he has that day. At 6:00 he's out the door and off to work.

Will wakes up, lays in bed for a few minutes, uses the bathroom, and goes downstairs to eat breakfast. He heads out for work around 6:30 ish.

If they have both managed to score a day off at the same time, breakfast is pushed back and hour. Not because Hannibal spends more time in bed, but because he gets to spend more time in his grooming routine. Hannibal spends an additional hour in the bathroom cleaning himself up. 

Will on the other hand does stay in bed. He waits until Hannibal is done, uses the bathroom, and goes back to bed until breakfast is ready. He's a very simple guy. 

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Hannibal has a Bedtime routine that also takes quite some time. (Yes, he will occasionally skip all of that to just hop into bed, but that's not often.) If you're all close enough (and there's room) He'll let you and Will get in the shower with him. At the end he slides into the far right side of the bed and lets you and will cuddle with him.

Will takes a shower, brushes his teeth, and get into the far left side of the bed. On occasion Hannibal will force him into his own routine (which involves a lot of oils and creams) that Will is not all that pleased to be doing. 

If you're a very cuddly person, cling to Hannibal. He loves feeling needed and in control. 

If you're not a cuddly person, turn and face Will. Will isn't the biggest fan of physical touch so you'll be (relatively) left alone.

O = Open  (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say  everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

HA. 

Hannibal HAS to be in your head first before he even considers opening up in the slightest. 

Will is closed off until Hannibal reassures him that you're trustworthy. 

This could takes years.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Do they get angry easily, yes. But they are in it for the long con. 

They have taken years playing with their prey before they kill them. Their patients is through the roof. 

Hannibal is the more patient one of course, but Will is also slow moving evil in a vest. 

Q = Quizzes  (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little  detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Hannibal remembers everything you tell him. He soaks up that information like a sponge. 

Will might forget a few things but over all remembers most of what you tell him.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Hannibal: 

Hannibal texts you later in the day to tell you he'll be home late. He feels bad and tries to get through the night as quickly as possible. 

When he eventually comes home he could smell a savory scent coming from the kitchen. He creeps up softly to the kitchen and peaks inside. 

There you are, doing your damn best to make dinner. He found it really sweet and let you work it out alone. 

Was it the best meal he ever had? No. Was it the one He loved the most? Yes!

Will: 

During one of the lowest points of his life He genuinely couldn't be alone. He felt like he could rely on anyone but desperately needed help, so he ended up calling you. 

You were there within an hour with an overnight bag. 

You stayed with him all night and the next day. You made sure he slept, ate, and showered. He's never forgotten that, and thinks of that act of kindness daily.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Both of them have killed for you, and will do it again.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Hannibal will put in maximum effort in all dates. He puts in the works, food, wine, place, timing, all of it 

Will will do his best, plan something nice, Wear something presentable. 

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

…. Despite the obvious…Hannibal can't stop staring into your soul. His gaze can pass through anyone. It's bone chilling at the best of times.

Will…. Will has one of the most infamous killers of all time in the palm of his hand. He absolutely uses that to his advantage.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Hannibal 90% sometimes He couldn't be bothered, most the time he is. 

Will 50%, He's been out and about missing some clothing. 

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Hannibal loves hard. Obsessively. He stalks, he creeps, he prowls, he peeps. There are no secrets, he already knows. He loves knowing, That's how he shows it.

Will needs support, well he could survive a while without you, after a few hours you will be bombarded with texts and calls. He'll be all pretty over the phone telling you he just needs to hear your voice. 

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Headcannons here 😘

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

•Undependable 

•bad punctuality 

•tied down 

•uneducated 

•non-adaptable 

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Hannibal doesn't need any fancy stuff to sleep, But he loves to pretend he does. Face masks, thick pillows, soft heavy blankets, lotions, candles, sound machines, etc. It makes me feel high and mighty 

Will will fall asleep in his work clothes, Jeans and all.

They will of course cuddle you if you ask. 

Thanks for reading <3