#Monday Bundle
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solar-halos · 5 months ago
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it is an extra special mood board monday. this one is for like a yellow sun by @volcanicloves (on ao3 and tumblr). its a lemonade mouth au, so if you’re looking for a fun and lighthearted hunger games au, i can’t recommend this enough
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nat-seal-well · 1 month ago
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Do I work on a Nat/ava fic or do I write a tiny Marin one shot I have in my head while I hide in my room
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lacreni · 4 months ago
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Here on Tumblr fucking around waiting for the Adderall to hit like
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silverfoxstole · 1 year ago
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Paul as Archie Addington in McDonald and Dodds: A Billion Beats (2022).
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ajdrawshq · 6 months ago
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vv sorry for the lack of responses in the past . week ? i keep bouncing between mentally preparing for Events then recovering from said events. soon ...........
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regal-bones · 2 years ago
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Each of these coins has been claimed - if you’ve bought one it’s in here somewhere!!!
There’s nine left of this batch so if you want one act fast! There’ll be more in stock eventually but not for a good month or two!
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rethcore · 9 months ago
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my weekend was so busy that i'm too burnt out to work on any of my personal projects at the moment and its honestly driving me apeshit that I don't have the spoons to focus on fic or keep tweaking that one shipping pic I was working on right now orz
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retalliationx · 5 months ago
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How could I possibly go to work when I wanna watch wrassalin? Why do I have to make money?
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foreverfearlessred · 7 months ago
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Fueled this afternoon on two Italian biscuits, a fudge from a selection box, and pure vibes. Criminal Litigation work, oh how I have missed you babes xo
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talietikasero · 2 years ago
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woke up late but at least i partially cleaned my house and got some more bookmarks for my fics
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notjustjavierpena · 4 months ago
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Nerf
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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
A/N: There’s a little background to this. Sweet @sawymredfox posted a picture in an inbox that I can’t remember who belonged to but the picture was of a Nerf gun with a note asking for a gunfight over dinner. This one's for you, Wym! 
Summary: Hubby returns from work to a Nerf gunfight over takeaway privileges. Luckily, he has tactical training and quite the appetite.
Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)
Tags: Domestic bliss, fluff, pregnant reader, javi loves and worships his wife, pussy eating, fingering, squirting, rough piv sex, multiple orgasms, creampie
Word count: 4.7k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57685981
Nerf
Javier comes home to his apartment like always on a Friday afternoon, fiddling around with his bundle of keys that he fishes out from his pocket to find the one to the front door all the while carrying his work bag in his other hand. He has planned a date night with you tonight and has been excited about it since Monday morning when you suggested it over breakfast. He cannot wait to see you in your shared home, already grinning from ear to ear at the idea of giving his wife a long kiss as you discuss the movie choices you’ve rented at the local Blockbuster. He doesn’t really care about what you insist on watching, easily distracted by you anyway as you watch your movie with curious eyes. He’s more interested in the food that you are going to eat, hooked on the idea of ordering greasy Chinese food to share with each other. 
When he finally gets the door open, the apartment is dead quiet and the noise of Javier throwing his keys on the side table echoes through the hallway. 
“Honey?” He calls out but you don’t reply. 
He takes one step forward only to hear the sound of cheap plastic scraping across the floorboards. He furrows his brow and looks down, noticing the toy gun with a sticky note attached to it. He sets down his bag by the shoe rack and bends down to pick the gun up. 
It’s a Nerf gun, more specifically a poor imitation of an automatic weapon. He checks the magazine and sees that it is full, loads it again, and only then reads the note sticking to it. 
Husband, 
Welcome home. I’m hiding in the apartment with a Nerf gun. Here is the other one… The winner decides what takeaway we’re having for dinner. 
May the odds be ever in your favor,
Your wife
A grin spreads on his face, his senses heightened now that he knows you are watching him from somewhere.
As he pockets the note with as little noise as possible, he smirks with determination and thinks that you have no idea who you are up against. He secures his grip on the toy gun, remembering his tactical training from Colombia, and moves silently through the doorway to the living room. 
He scans the space with his heart beating in his ears but where he expects you to jump out from somewhere, maybe behind the couch where you’ll be relaxing later, he finds nothing. He takes silent footsteps across the wooden floorboards, knowing which creak, as he makes his way through the small space, checking behind the curtain by pulling it open with the tip of the rifle. Not there either. 
“I’m coming for you, esposa (wife),” he tells you tauntingly when he makes a left into the kitchen. You’re usually more into pizza, stringy with cheese and topped with mushrooms, but he really wants that goddamn chow mein from just around the corner. He tightens his grip, on a mission.
He inches forward to see if you are underneath the breakfast table with a cloth that you bought at a flea market a few months back. He didn’t think it would fit the rest of the furniture in the apartment but you insisted, and you were right. He loves the mismatched chairs surrounding its slightly quirky pattern now, pulling one out to make sure you really aren’t underneath the tablecloth by quickly lifting it and aiming.
The kitchen is completely empty, he decides, unless you are hiding in the refrigerator which he seriously doubts. Despite this, the silence is thick with impending doom and he takes a deep breath to steady himself, not about to lose to a person with no experience in the field. He listens carefully, taking a few steps back and suddenly a Nerf dart flies past his ear. 
He whirls around, having noticed the slight movement just in time. And there you are, right in the doorway to the kitchen with a huge, beaming smile on your face, gun pointed at him, and wearing nothing but your white cotton underwear. He fails to concentrate on anything else except your gorgeous body, the only one in this whole world that he has worshiped multiple times and hasn’t lost interest in. He smiles at the sight of your baby bump that has just started to grow round and the way your panties’ elastic band sits across it. However, you play unfairly, a Nerf dart suddenly making its way toward him. 
He manages to duck it, hearing it hit the kitchen cabinets behind him with a soft thud before clattering to the floor. He raises his gun and you squeal with delight, turning on your heel, and running through your shared home. He fires a few darts in your direction without hesitation but none of them get you and you’re gone again. 
“Nice try, baby!” You laugh triumphantly. He follows the sound of your voice, your padding feet, and your giggles that elevate his heartbeat with indescribable warmth and happiness. They lead him to the bedroom, steadily creeping along the walls until he nudges the door open with his foot, gun at the ready. 
He guesses that you’ve stepped into the closet where his shirts hang because you won’t have had time to roll underneath the bed. He makes his way across the floor and swings the door open only to find nothing but his old clothes. He furrows his brow but then tenses up at the thrilling feeling of the tip of your gun poking into his back. He smirks to himself. 
“Hah!” You exclaim with glee, “Isn’t this a surprise? I can’t believe I won!”
His smile becomes more mischievous. You haven’t shot him yet, too arrogant to think that you won’t have to because he’ll surrender. Too bad for you that he is a stubborn man who loves you just a little more than anyone else before him. It’s enough to not let you win as you love it the most. 
In a flurry of tactical decisions and moves, he manages to whip around and grab the gun to fling it out of your hands. It falls to the floor with a clatter and your eyes widen. It dawns on you that you have noticed his plan too late and you end up with a Nerf dart hitting you square in the chest. 
“Gotcha!” Javier celebrates. 
You stumble back dramatically, clutching frantically at your chest after impact to earn a genuine laugh from your husband. You end up on the floor and Javier steps forward to stand with a leg on either side of you. 
“Do you stand down, soldier?” Javier asks, imitating the sound of reloading. When he aims at your chest again, you hold your hands up in mock surrender. 
“Fine, you win take away privileges,” you giggle but still try to reach out for his gun. 
Javier drops to his knees, getting comfortable on your thighs while you start to squirm, “You’re not very convincing, wife.”
“I’m being completely genuine, husband,” you reassure and accidentally push up into him, the slightest friction against his jeans making him feel a stir of desire in the length of his cock. 
Just when you try to reach for his gun again, he throws it next to the other and thus out of your reach. He leans down over you, hovering over your pouting face, and kisses your lips, “You really thought you could beat me so easily? Chica tonta (silly girl).”
The exhilarating feeling of your little game has left him clouded by thoughts of you. His eyes start to wander down your figure, his yearning for you that’s been building since he left in the morning making him unable to stop them. Your chest rises and falls a little quicker underneath his greedy gaze. Your breasts are more full than usual because of the baby growing inside of you and you look so stunning sprawled out on the floor at his mercy that he can’t help but let his hands wander as well.
You arch up to catch his lips in a tantalizing kiss that leaves him short of breath. Warmth thrums underneath his skin, a result of your heat radiating through him even as his fingertips only ghost down towards your waist and stomach. Your skin is electric, soft to the touch, and glowing just right because you are pregnant. 
“Javi,” you breathe softly as your hands come up to tangle in his hair, messing it up after he has had it under control the whole day. He nods but doesn’t keep his mouth on yours, instead lets the tip of his nose trail over your cheek and down your jaw whilst leaving kisses on your trembling neck as he descends. 
“I missed you all day,” he whispers, nibbling and kissing your skin until a thin sheen of spit runs down the pulsing vein along your throat. When he reaches your belly, beautiful and pregnant, he presses several kisses all over the growing bump while listening to you sigh with contentment. He smiles into your skin, briefly resting his cheek on you to look up at your face, “How have you both been today?�� 
“We’ve been good,” you hum and run your hand through his hair, flattening it down again by pushing it back as you caress the top of his head, “We’ve missed you though. They’ve been moving around a bit but I think they’ve gone to sleep now… all that running around.” 
“Lots of privacy for us then,” he teases. He shifts positions, scooting backward until he is kneeling between your legs. He pecks your belly repeatedly, “You just sleep, bebito (little baby) while I take care of your pretty mamá.”
“What do you have planned?” You ask, wiggling your hips to try and get comfortable on the hard floor. He smirks at you and crawls forward to yank at the covers on the bed, pulling them far enough off the mattress until the pillows follow. He helps you to lift your pelvis up so he can scoot the soft pillow underneath your hips and then does the same with your head. 
“Can I eat this sweet little pussy, mamá?” He asks, finally kneeling in position again and watching you plant your feet on the ground by bending your knees. His own knees are hurting slightly but he ignores it because he knows he’ll forget it once he gets lost in your cunt.  
“Please,” you swallow thickly after a hitched breath. You nod eagerly with that little expression on your face that he loves when you’re getting treated for simply being the love of his life; all softened features, mouth slightly open, and pleading eyes watching as he goes down. 
Gently, he puts his palms on the back of your warm thighs and pushes your legs towards your chest, enjoying seeing you in the same position that he put that baby inside of you while he still can. You follow his movements without protest, keeping them there while he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties. 
“You want it?” He asks while dragging the fabric down over your hips as you nod repeatedly, snapping it slightly from how you barely register that you have to cooperate. He laughs as you do, a tiny giggle escaping you as you hold your legs up with your hands under your knees when he slips the underwear off your feet and tosses it to the side. 
Your pussy is on display for him like this, your pushed-together thighs and your ass slightly elevated from the pillow making it stick out even more. You squeeze around your calves to hold your position and he can see your dripping slit quiver, inviting him in to squish his head between your thighs. 
He flattens his tongue to lick a long, greedy stripe from the cleft of your ass to your clit, feeling you pulse in excitement as he finally touches you with his mouth. He groans at your sweet taste, repeating the move to concentrate on gulping down some of your slick like he hasn’t had a drink all day and Texan summer is peaking. You make him so hard in his jeans that it hurts, the length of his cock straining against the zipper as your sweet scent fills his nostrils. As he eats you out slowly and hears you sigh with pleasure above him, he agrees with himself that he’ll fuck you too. He thought this would be enough but no, you look perfect, swollen and warm below him and he doesn’t want to go through this late afternoon without feeling your heat around his cock. 
“Fuck, baby,” you gasp the way you do when your orgasm starts to tug from within you. He stops only using the tip of his tongue to be more forceful in his treatment. He covers your mound with his mouth, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks at your clit to hear you whine a mhmm…
You gush a little wetness when he releases you briefly, a drop of it sliding down between your cheeks so it accidentally wets the pillow you’re writhing on. Javier doesn’t care right now, will just throw everything in the washer later. He kisses your clit a few times before going in again, this time pressing his tongue against you to wiggle it against your clit that’s now hard from how turned on you are. 
There’s a climb in your pitch, a little higher moan coming out your mouth as he starts to let small flicks of his tongue rain down on your gorgeous clit. He concentrates on getting you there, heart beating in his ears but still managing to listen to your heaving breaths, notice your palms tighten around your legs as you channel the intensity into whatever you can and feel your hips involuntarily move so he has to grab the widest part of your thighs and hold you in place. 
When you start to hold your breath after a particularly long whine, he pulls away to stop your orgasm with the excuse that he has to breathe. You look down at him, releasing your grip around your knees to let your thighs fall out to the sides. You look frustrated, your racing heartbeat evident from the way your pussy pulses in a steady rhythm. 
“I hate you,” you say through gritted teeth, hips lifting off the pillow for just a moment as you chase something, anything to no avail.
“No, you don’t, Mamacita, not with what I’m about to do to you,” he grins, eyes glued to your glistening slit, watching the shine of his own spit covering your delicate skin. He grabs your ankles to plant your feet on the floor like you’d done briefly earlier, only to slide his hands upward over your shins, knees, and thighs until they sit on your hips. He gropes your jiggly thighs for a second, watching his movements vibrate all the way up to your bra-covered tits. They jump a little and he knows he has never seen anything so perfect, catching his hungry eyes and attention for a little too long. When he wants to smirk at you, he sees your pouty face and chuckles, “Alright, I’ll hurry up. Gotta give you what you want when dinner isn’t your call.”
You bite your bottom lip as he descends on your cunt again, tensing up the muscle of his tongue to lick a long stripe between your soaked folds. He moans when your hands find his hair, tugging gently on the follicles of his scalp. When he dares glance up at your writhing body, he can only see your tensed-up jaw as you have thrown your head back.
“Fuck, Javi,” you whine, “F-fingers. Make me come on your fingers, please.”
He can definitely do that. He lets his dominant hand slide down between your legs while he holds himself up with the other one on your hip, keeping your pelvis down as he sucks hard on your clit. Two of his fingers enter you and curl toward the front of your walls, seeming to have a direct line to your spine because you arch your back with a groan. 
Javier hums with pride, fucking you open on his digits whilst hollowing his cheeks around your clit. He drags the pads of his fingers over your g-spot again and again, hearing how your breathing speeds up once more and feeling your heartbeat as you rhythmically start to clench around his middle- and ring finger. He doesn’t have to look, is simply driven crazy by the mere thought of the finger that he wears his wedding band on disappearing into you over and over. 
“I’m coming,” you announce with a cry, barely able to catch your breath at this point. You tug harsher on his hair, pushing your hips up to earn more friction, “I’m gonna come, baby. Fuck, you’re making me come.”
Javier bobs his head slightly as he nips and sucks and licks, moving his fingers inside of you almost frantically to get the reward that he so desperately wants and needs. You squeeze your eyes shut, thighs tensing up and then go completely silent above him for less than a few seconds. 
You come with a high-pitched squeal a moment later, pussy going off into rapid spasms that choke his fingers but not enough for him to stop dragging them out while they curl upward. He releases his mouth from your pulsing clit, withdrawing his head from between your thighs so your arms fall to the floor. You gush all over his hand which he doesn’t manage to pull away, twisting your gorgeous body in surprise as you practically wet yourself on the floor. He tightens his grip on you to keep you on your back, hearing you sob with pleasure as he sinks his fingers knuckles-deep into you again and repeats the move. 
Another gush soaks the floorboards and you are practically levitating by now, enough for Javier to be sure that he has made up for the fact that his pregnant wife won’t get her takeout craving satisfied. He hears how it sounds in his head, knowing immediately that he should decide on that goddamn pizza if he wants to have it easy. 
He snaps out of it to go again at least three times more and when you seem like you can barely handle it anymore, he pulls back but only after a gentle peck on your swollen clit. You squirm in oversensitivity, shaking your head repeatedly while he cannot stop grinning in self-satisfaction. God, how on earth can he of all people have the privilege to make you feel so good? 
It takes a moment before your mind isn’t fogged by fireworks going off between your legs anymore and you slump on the floor with a satisfied smile on your face, a giggle bubbling up in your throat which is the most heavenly sound he has ever heard. 
“Okay?” He asks with a dazed expression, the taste of you lingering on his tongue. He rubs your thigh up and down, feeling the slight dampness from the sweat and wetness of your body. 
You nod in reply, “Mhmm…”
“Made a mess on the floor,” he tells you with a hint of taunting in his voice. 
“Mhmm,” you repeat, no shame in your tone which he loves completely, “You’ll clean it up.”
“Oh, will I?” He laughs quietly at the state of you. It’s true though; he will, and as you nod once more, he is already getting up from the floor with an aching hard-on in his jeans. 
“Yes because I’ll let you fuck me when you get back,” you grin lazily, letting your thighs fall out to the sides even more to show him your wet cunt. He could skip the step where he gets a towel but you’ll complain about it later tonight if he doesn’t nip it in the bud.
He adjusts his cock in his jeans when he is on his feet and undoes the pants on the way to the bathroom, hands gripping the handle on the bathroom drawer a little too hard when he gets a towel. He slings the towel over his shoulder and pushes the fabric of his pants down over his hips, relieved when his cock is only covered by the softness of his briefs. 
When he has patted down the floorboards, just managing to do it before your come has started to soak into the wood, he throws the towel to the side and kneels between your legs again. He looks at you with longing, with a fire in him that feels as if it is getting poured gasoline over it when you look into his eyes with a mischievous grin. 
“Can I have it now, baby?” He asks politely as he pushes his briefs down, letting them sit just below his hips because it feels like too much work to undress completely when he so desperately wants to be inside of you. You nod and hold out your hands to signal that he needs to come closer, and he follows through on your silent request but only after taking a last look at the beautiful mess between your legs that he’ll push into soon. 
When he crawls over you, you unbutton his shirt to reveal his chest and touch him all over. Your delicate hands roam over the skin of his torso, fingertips sliding through the little but sexy amount of hair there until you grab around the small of his back. You pull him in, he moves closer. 
A sharp exhale leaves him as he enters you finally. You on the other hand moan shakily as he fills up every last inch of you, intruding just a little before you relax around him. Your hands slide down and your nails dig into his ass, motioning for him to start moving inside of you. 
Your head falls back when he thrusts once then twice, fucking you slowly but harshly into the floor. It’s so ridiculous to think that he only had plans to kiss you when he came home, maybe making love to you in bed after the film you definitely won’t fall asleep to. He braces himself with a hand beside your thrown-back head, leaning down over you to practically latch onto your throat. He kisses along the beautiful arch of your neck, tasting your salty skin and feeling your throat vibrate against his lips with each noise of pleasure you make. 
You bend your legs to wrap them around his hips, rocking with him as he fucks into you deeply. Your cunt is so wet and warm around him, echoing each of his groans by choking his dick just as he has come to love it after he started fucking you on the regular three years back. Here he is, happily married to you and he is going to be a father. The thought of what you two have together, what you will achieve together, makes him impossibly hard inside of you, especially when you go and do something as stupidly adorable as a Nerf gunfight. He must have you. Fantastic, sexy, beautiful you.
He rolls his hips to hear you say his name, the floor creaking underneath you as you move together. You tilt your head forward again to kiss him, slotting your mouth over his and tasting your sweat and slick on his tongue. You suck at the tip, hinting at how good you are at going down on him and he groans with how wanton you can come off. You’re not just a sweet girl like everyone says.
“There! Oh fuck, th-there,” you break the kiss to yell out for him as he hits an angle that wasn’t even deliberate, the noise bouncing off the walls. The little old lady who lives downstairs from you will be banging on the door tomorrow, gone before you can answer and having left a cheerful yet unhappy note that starts. It's so nice that you enjoy each other. Javier thinks it’s more than nice. 
“Yeah? There, baby?” He does it again to piss off the whole building instead and your fingers dig into his skin with how good it is, “¿Así (like that)?”
“Sí, así (yes, like that),” you sob, your cunt squeezing his dick with how you have another high incoming. He seeks out your lips again but you are busy; your eyes are squeezed shut in concentration on your pleasure and your mouth hangs open as moan after moan leaves it, so he settles for a desperate bite to your jaw. 
“I love you,” he says as clearly as he can muster, his own orgasm creeping up on him as he spears you again and again. He moves a little to go harder and faster, his pace slowly increasing until you need to hold onto him to not go upwards on the floor with the strength behind his hips. You slide your hands up his back, nails scratching in their wake until you pull him into your arms. God, he feels so good and safe when you do that. You are both sweaty, chests sticking slightly to each other from how much effort you are putting into being together like this. 
“I love you too, esposo (husband),” you whimper feebly and tighten your legs around him to keep him where you want him the most. He can hear you are close in the way your breaths fall from your lips. 
“Come for me,” he whispers with a hot breath against your ear that has you shivering on top of everything else, “Por favor, mi amor. Quiero sentirte (Please, my love. I wanna feel you).”
His words send you there, your sounds send him there. You come with a pained noise and then a string of moans, your brows furrowed as your cunt goes off into spasms that he relishes in. They pull his own high from him, his muscles tightening before pleasure washes over him as he fills you up with his spill. It is accompanied by a guttural groan that makes you clench around him just when he thought it was over. He cannot control his hips as he feels it. His pace, albeit slowing down, gets uneven until it comes to a complete halt. 
Eventually, he rolls off of you. The both of you groan as he pulls out, and he immediately reaches for the towel which you place between your legs. He turns his head towards you when you do and as you gain eye contact, the both of you laugh in post-orgasmic bliss. 
You scoot closer by wiggling your entire body. You also decide to share the pillow under your head with him, pulling into the space between you. 
When you rest a hand on your baby bump, he reaches to hold it. Your breaths fall in sync with no need to say anything until you have the energy. 
When that time comes, you look at him out of the corner of your eye, “So.”
“So?” He asks and pulls up his underwear. 
“What did I lose to?” You elaborate while he buttons and zips his jeans. 
“Chinese,” he replies and tries to suppress his excitement in case you start pouting. Instead, you laugh out loud. 
“What? Why’s that funny?” He probably looks confused. 
“I wanted Chinese,” you clarify with continuous giggles. 
“Oh,” he joins in and chuckles, “You never want Chinese.”
“The baby wants Chinese,” you pat your belly with your other hand.
“Must be my kid,” he smirks and rolls onto his side. He pecks your cheek repeatedly. 
“Must be,” you turn your head to kiss him but it doesn’t quite feel enough. So he kisses you again, squeezing the hand on your pregnant belly as he does it and when you giggle against his mouth, it seems like the whole reason he was put on Earth is to do all of this and what’s to come with you.
.
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If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️
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eddiethebrave · 3 months ago
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secret admirer part ten
490 words
one two three four five six seven eight nine
When he opens his locker on Monday morning, two notes are lying there amongst Eddie’s things. 
One in the usual scrawl he’s grown fond of and one not. 
Eddie i really like your smile, even when you’re being a little shit how was your weekend? anything fun? i missed you at the party  i don’t think you showed but i was really fucked up so who knows that’s ok though, i didn’t really wanna be there either  -H
Eddie can’t help but smile. The second note, on the other hand, makes him snort. It’s the shit he usually got in his locker before H. 
Freak yada yada yada fag yada yada going to hell blah blah blah blah.
God. Very original. He throws that one in the trash and tucks H’s away with the others. 
He still can’t quite picture Tommy Hagan saying the things from the notes, but he guesses that was sort of the whole point. 
Still, he’s having trouble combining the two people in his mind. 
He doesn’t know which is the true Tommy, but, honestly, Eddie wants no part in finding out. He doesn’t wanna know if Tommy actually likes him. Just the thought makes him shiver in disgust. The boy isn’t all that bad looking. The freckles are kind of cute. But, man, he’s so annoying. 
Eddie doesn’t wanna know if the notes were a prank the entire time, either. For all he knows, Tommy probably got a good laugh when Eddie showed up last week actually wearing the ring.
Eddie doesn’t know what he’s gonna do.
Well, that’s a lie. He’s taking the damn ring off, that’s for sure. 
He doesn’t have the heart to throw it away, though, so he just puts it with the bundle of notes for now. 
At lunch, Tommy is facing away from him, but he can’t help but stare as he tries to mesh the man he’s looking at now with the one who wrote him such sweet messages. 
Eddie knows that the next time he sees Tommy calling someone names or just being an asshole in general he’s gonna have to hold himself back. If he were a worse person, he’d confront him about it. Alas, he’s not. 
His gaze wanders to Tommy’s right where Carol Perkins sits. That’s the other thing; Tommy has a girlfriend. 
Eddie doesn’t even wanna attempt to untangle that mess. He shakes his head and moves onto another person in Tommy’s orbit. 
Steve Harrington. The King. The Hair. 
God, Eddie kinda wishes it were him instead. He’s never been that much of an asshole, honestly. He was even pretty great about the whole birthday fee thing which was refreshing after arguing with people for a whole week beforehand - including Tommy. 
Eddie shares art class with Steve. Carol, too. Neither of them seem that bad. He just doesn’t understand why they’re friends with Tommy. 
Then again, there’s not much he understands these days.
eleven
tag list (closed)
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sorry if i missed anyone!!
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glow-worms-are-believers · 1 year ago
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Full Baby Back Guarantee Not Included (dp x dc)
“Look, lady. It was a joke, ok? I don’t actually want your newborn baby,” Danny said as he held up his hands trying to back away from the woman with a bundle of blankets in her arms.
“We made a deal, you can’t back out now,”  The woman said as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Your kind can’t break their words.”
“My kind?” Danny exclaimed incredulously, because what the hell was she on. “Lady, you are delusional.”
Then his eyes caught on the awkward way the woman was holding onto the bundle and he frowned.
“Wait a second.” The halfa’s eyes went big. “Is that even your kid?!” his voice turning into a shriek at the end. “Did you kidnap some random child?”
“It’s my sister’s,” the woman cut him off coldly. “She and the father are both dead.” That was pretty awful, Danny thought as he winced. But then she turned to look blankly at him.
“Nobody will look for her.”
Dear skies above, he was supposed to be the ghost here, why was he the one getting chills.
“Holy fuck,” the halfa let out softly. 
He had to get that baby away from that psychopath.
“What is it you want again?” Danny asked faintly.
“Make me the new chief operating officer,” the woman answered.
“What?” The halfa choked out.
“They’re giving the position to Shwartz this monday. You need to make sure that doesn’t happen,” she continued evenly as if she wasn’t currently selling a baby in exchange for a fucking promotion.
“Yeah sure, deal,” Danny answered, eager to get away from her as soon as possible. 
“Give me your word,” she insisted.
“I give my word, I swear,” the halfa said. “Gimme the kid and you’ll get your job.”
The woman looked at him for a second before seemingly being satisfied. 
She extended the bundle of blankets towards him and handed him the swaddle baby. As soon as the kid was in his arms, Danny zipped away, fully intent on never seeing the woman again. He sure as hell was not getting her that promotion. Not that he would’ve been able to, what the hell, lady? At least research better before making a deal for your sister's baby!
Though in retrospect, it was a good thing she hadn't.
As Danny flew over a few buildings, he thanked the ancients the woman hadn’t had any ghost restraining tech, and only the summoning ritual. Which was a thing he had not been aware existed but he he would have to circle back to that because, right now, he had a whole ass baby nestled in his arms.
What the hell was his life.
Danny slowed down the flight once he felt he had put enough distance between them and the psycho and landed on a nice patch of green next to a road. He looked around and took notice that they’d gotten out of whatever that city had been, or at least the more populated part. He gave a quick look for people or cameras around before de-transforming. If he was spotted with a baby in his arms, his human look would help his chance of not getting shot.
The halfa started walking away from the road and towards the green vegetation. Still walking, he took a deep breath before looking down at the baby.
“You ok, kid?” Danny asked softly as their small (so so tiny!) face twitched in their sleep. “Oh you’re sleepy, huh?” he murmured gently. “Sleep tight sweetheart, I’ve got you.”
Then he secured the blankets around the baby again, making sure none of the wind was reaching her. It was probably a her? The blankets were pink but he couldn’t know for sure since the psycho had only called her an it. Danny felt his lips curl. And as the night replayed in his mind, he felt the weight of the situation settle down on him.
Ancients what was he going to do?
He couldn’t pull up in Amity with a baby in his arms and no explanation of how he got her. He’d be arrested for kidnapping, which was technically absolutely what he was doing. But then again he couldn't just give that baby back to her aunt.
“What are you doing here?” came a voice from ahead of him.
Danny startled out of his thoughts to find himself facing an older man in a suit with a severe look on his face. The halfa instinctively brought the baby closer to his chest and the movement drew the older man’s eyes towards it.
Danny could see the realization of what it was he was holding settle and the man's face softened. He sighed deeply as his gaze went back up to meet the halfa’s.
“Despite what the media fancy printing, Wayne manor is not actually an orphanage.”
Danny had no idea what he was talking about so he just stayed silent and did his best not to look like someone who kidnapped babies.
The older man took the silence in stride. “If you need some help, there are programs to help young people in your situation,” he continued delicately.
Danny frowned as he tried to figure out what the guy meant by that before his eyes grew wide. “I’m not her dad!” He cried.
“I see,” the man said evenly as he looked back down at the bundle. Danny held her closer in response. “I see,” the guy repeated with a slight change in his voice.
The two held each other’s gaze for a moment before the older man sighed again. 
“Shall we continue this inside? It is getting windy and we wouldn’t want the little one to suffer, would we?” The man offered in a soothing tone.
Danny hesitated but one look at the kid’s face that had grown pink from the cold decided him.
“Ok,” Danny said. “Lead the way.”
And with that the three of them started  across the grassy lawn.
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gghostwriter · 4 months ago
Note
hi dear author! how are you?
I have a request for Spencer where reader has a head injury and passes out and Spencer's reaction to it and the aftermath. I found your fic around 15 mins ago and I'm in love with them<3
Thank you!!
Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Trope: Established Relationship; Fluff! Just fluff Warning: Medical inaccuracies A/N: I’m sensing a pattern with the request writing I’m doing—most of them deal with a head injury of some sort but I am having fun trying to make it different the the earlier works. No further editing was done but I hope you enjoy it! Main masterlist
Bundle of Nerves. // Spencer Reid
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The bright and playful disposition of your kindergarten students was one of things you looked forward to every Monday. How each student would go up to you to chatter about how their weekend went—family went to the park or to the library or to the beach—and how in return, they’ll ask if you also enjoyed the weekend as much as they did. 
But something seemed off today, you really couldn’t specify where it all started. Maybe it was you falling back to sleep after your alarm went off, or maybe it was you missing breakfast, or maybe it was just all of the above. 
Either way, everything was going sideways and it was just about to get worse. The lights seemed darker, the children’s voices were distorted, and the room was starting to sway. Feeling the need to sit down, you were only able to take a couple of steps to your desk before promptly fainting—smacking your forehead on the floor and the children screaming for help.
———
Spencer wasn’t one to wish for a case to land on JJ’s desk but at 1:30pm on a Monday, he found himself twiddling his thumbs and calculating his rocket launches using his expansive brain capacity—all paper filings done and submitted early. He swiveled to face Morgan who was caught red handed about to throw a paper clip in his direction. 
“Hey Kid,” he cleared his throat, trying to act nonchalantly. “You done with your paperwork?”
“Yeah, now I’m thinking of how to improve my rocket magic. Hey do you think if I add more—” 
The vibration of his phone on the table interrupted his sentence. His eyebrows furrowed as he took in the unregistered number. Curious but definitely wary, he pressed ‘accept’.
“Hi, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. Who is this?”
A female voice answered. “Hi Dr. Spencer Reid, I’m calling from Virginia State Hospital. Y/N had you listed down as her emergency contact. She was admitted—”
The remaining information all sounded muffled. His breathing was spiking up and all he could hear now was the rapid staccato beating of his heart. He couldn’t think straight. Is this what unknowing family members of victims feel when they receive a distress call? Like the rug was pulled under their feet? He couldn’t comprehend what to do, how to—
“Dr. Reid, are you still there?”
He cleared his throat. “Yes—yes, I’ll be there soon.”
Before the voice could say another word, he ended the call, was out of his desk, and up the steps to his unit chief’s office, SSA Aaron Hotchner. 
“Reid, what is it?” the stern BAU leader clocking in the distress painted on the genius’ face.
“I-it’s Y/N. She was admitted at hospital and—”
He nodded. “Go, Reid. I’ll explain to the team and HR.”
With a quick ‘thank you’, he ducked out of the bullpen to the elevator, grateful that he opted to drive to Quantico today rather than take his usual train route.
Maybe he should have borrowed the government owned SUV instead, he thought to himself when he turned to the main road and saw the congestion. Hotch would have understood, he just wasn’t sure how to explain that in paperwork but this counted as an emergency, right? It felt like a life or death situation to him—for him and for you. 
When he exited the bottleneck traffic, Spencer wanted to floor the gas. His foot itched to stomp on the accelerator and worry about the fines later. But the idea of getting caught, being pulled over, and wasting more precious seconds away from your side was enough for him to second guess it—that and his tight white knuckle grip on the steering wheel. 
He should have asked for more information over the phone call but the second his mind registered the words, it went to overdrive and out of the window—his emotions were running high and clouding every logical thought possible. He had an IQ of 187 but all he could think of was you. You, the love of his life. You, his fiancee, lying down on a hospital bed, alone and unconscious. Any man, no matter how smart they are, would react the same way he did when it involves a loved one.
He parked his car at the first slot he could find in the hospital parking lot and ran straight to the reception.
“I’m looking for Y/N. She was admitted a while ago. I-I’m her fiancee.” Spencer hurriedly introduced himself.
The nurse nodded once, stating your floor and room number. Without so much as an acknowledgement, he ran to the nearest elevator and willed it to open any faster.
Spencer felt like he ran a marathon by the time he found your room and seeing you there, lying on your bed—conscious, thank god—took a little weight off his chest. He breathed out your name in relief. “What happened? Did you—did you hit your head?”
Your hand gingerly touched the bandage on your forehead. “I think so. I started to feel faint so I was walking back to my chair. I must have hit my head on my way down—”
He took your hands into his, kissing it. “You had me so worried. Did the doctor say anything? Diagnosis? Cause? Treatment?”
“No. When I came to, only a nurse was here. She left to page the doctor but it’s okay—I feel fine now.”
Spencer opened his mouth, no doubt to chide you about minimizing your pain and health, but then the doctor walked in with a clipboard on hand.
“Hi, I’m Doctor Smith. How are we feeling?”
“She said she was feeling faint before she hit her head. Does she have a concussion? Why did she feel faint—was it stress? Hypoglycemia? Labyrinthitis? Vertebrobasilar insufficiency?” Spencer rattled off.
 “Well, your husband sure knows medical terminology. Are you a Doctor too?” the physician asked.
Spencer’s brows met in between, finding the whole interaction off-putting. Here he was about to have a nervous breakdown and your doctor was as calm as a cucumber. “Fiancee, actually, and yes Doctor, 3 Phds not MD.”
“Impressive, and to answer your questions, Doc. None of the above.” 
His eyes widened. “Then it could be hypo—” 
Dr. Smith smiled and shook his head. “It’s not that either.” He reached into his clipboard, removing a prescription pad, and quickly jotting down medicine. “Here you go. She’ll need to take a capsule a day and I suggest a healthy balanced meal, exercise, and plenty of bed rest.”
Spencer’s eyes widened when he realized what the chicken scratch handwriting said. 
“What—what is it?” You asked in worry as Spencer seemed to have glitched.
The doctor grinned at you.“Congratulations, you’re pregnant.” 
Silence. 
“I-I’m what?!” 
The doctor chuckled. “You’re 3 weeks along so you’re still in the early stages. Your body is still adjusting—the fainting spell was caused by change in your hormones and low blood pressure. I suggest you schedule an appointment with your OB/GYN as soon as possible and get ample rest—” he looked at the couple once more before exiting the room. “—congratulations, again.”
The tears that started to gather in your eyes seemed to bring Spencer back to life. “Oh love, are those—are those happy tears or—?” 
You nodded. “Happy tears, Spence. I can’t believe it!” 
He reached out to hug you to his chest. “I love you, Y/N. You make me feel like the luckiest man in the world.” 
You giggled. “I guess we have to tell your team about the baby genius on board, huh?” 
He laughed, remembering how Emily once asked him if he ever planned on having one and here he was about to become a father. 
You gasp, causing him to lean back and look at you with worry—did he hug you too tight? Did you feel— 
“I’m not going to fit in my wedding dress by then! Penny will have a fit! She had this vision and—” 
He leaned down to interrupt your ramblings. 
“I’m sure she’ll forgive you, especially if you're turning her into an aunt.”
You smiled, peering through your eyelashes. “Y’know we might have to find a new apartment soon. Just imagining how much shopping Penny would do for our baby genius even before he or she is born is making me shudder.”
He laughed. “Me too, love. Me too.”
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kamiversee · 9 months ago
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➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
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✧.* CHAPTER 10 || The Hallway Incident
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[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?
[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language & fluff.
[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 3.2k
[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.
[ [ chapters mlist } ]
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——THE GENTLE SOUND OF YOUR heel tapping against the ground due to the constant bobbing of your leg as your anxiety builds up inside can be heard beneath the sounds of Nanami and Toji engaging in conversation.
You've been waiting for about six minutes now, having watched every second of the nearby clock tick, and your nerves are all bundled up. In the time that they've been talking, you've mentally rehearsed a plan for yourself.
You're going to ask Toji for private lessons.
And no, not in a naughty kind of way. At least, not yet. But for the purpose of one, having an excuse to attend class with Gojo every Monday to really dedicate yourself to the lie you've given and two, to have one-on-one moments with Toji.
Is any of this going to work? Probably not.
The worst case scenario is that this all goes to shit and Toji rejects any advance you make at him, resulting in Gojo posting those videos of you. Great.
You draw your hand up to your face and begin to chew on your thumbnail as you wait, simply watching the two talk for a few more minutes until Nanami finally leaves.
When he does, you watch him walk away almost in a trance. He's got one hell of a back profile. Similar to Toji, the dress shirt that Nanami had did little to nothing to conceal the toned body that lay underneath.
You never used to undress people with your eyes like this before but then again, you never used to see this many attractive people at once.
The little trance you were in is broken when Toji suddenly snaps his fingers in front of your face, causing you to jump and turn your head to him. You hadn't even realized that he sat back down at his desk.
"S-Sorry Mr. Fushiguro." You apologize as you make eye contact with the man.
"You're fine," He says, his expression void of any real reaction to the way he saw you gawking at his student. "Now," Toji leans back in his chair, a slight creak heard as he does so, "Where were we?"
"Uhh..." You awkwardly straighten up in your seat, "I was telling you about the project I had for my sociology class."
"Right." He nods, "Well, I don't mind you coming to my class for a few weeks for this project of yours, just don't be a disruption."
"I won't sir." You hum.
The gentleness in your tone makes the older man shift in his seat a little. "Good. Anything else?" Toji questions, tipping his head to the side.
"W-Well, I was wondering if I could stay after the lecture as well."
"For?"
"Y'know, like, a more..." You look down at your lap. The eye contact was growing overwhelming. "In-depth lesson?"
The older man falls quiet for a second. Then, startling you, he chuckles at how fidgety and nervous you seem to be about your request. "You're not in any of my classes and yet you want a lesson from me? A private one at that?" He emphasizes.
You swallow hard and look back up at him, "Yes sir."
Toji folds his arms, the large muscles in his arms unintentionally bulging against the fabric of his shirt. "What is there for me to teach ya' privately that you wouldn't learn during the lectures?" He asks.
"Well..." Think, think, think, think, think.... "Students aren't the only people I have to study for this project. As a professor, you'd be a great example to use for how topics, such as economics, affect people in education." You manage.
He scoffs lightly, "So, basically, you want to study me after class?"
You wince a little at his words, "Study isn't really the word I'd use for it. Think of it more like an interview."
"An interview?"
You cross one of your legs over the other, "Yes sir."
He takes a long pause, simply staring at you in thought. Once he comes to a decision, Toji agrees with a nod and a shrug of his broad shoulders. "Alright. Every Monday then, I'll expect to see you during and after class. When's this little project of yours due?"
"Six weeks from now." That should be enough time for you to... seduce him, right?
Toji's eyebrows raise slightly, "Six weeks? Damn, must be some project."
"It's my final project, sir." You clarify.
He clicks his tongue and you watch the corner of his lips raise into a little smirk, "So your final grade will be riding on me then?"
Well technically you riding on him is more of the goal here but, there's no need for you to say that aloud.
You smile, "Yup."
"M'kay, cya next week then," Toji says dismissively. You give him a nod and both of you stand at the same time. He walks you over to his door and adds a simple, "I look forward to workin' with ya', kid."
His last word makes you halt. Slowly, you turn only your head back to him with a graceful smile on your face, "With all due respect, sir, I'm a grown woman. Please don't call me kid." You request.
With your head angled back to him, you notice that he's rather close to you. One of his hands was placed on his classroom door and the other was tucked into the pocket of his pants. His closeness causes whatever, obviously cheap, but rather pleasant-smelling cologne to run through your nose.
Toji tilts his head as he looks down at you, "Yes ma'am. My bad, it's a bit of a habit of mine."
The change in the way he addressed you has your heart feeling a little weird. It has to be that deep voice of his, the damn thing is intoxicating.
"You should get rid of it," You blurt out, referring to that habit of his.
An amused smirk spreads across his face. You didn't know it but, he found this one interaction with you slightly attractive. "I'll work on it." Toji hums casually.
You give him an approving nod and then turn away. His eyes follow you as you enter the mildly busy hallway and after you disappear from his sight, he sighs heavily.
You definitely made a decent first impression on him.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
As you rush down the hallway, you're lost in your head thinking about how you're going to pull this off for the next few weeks.
Subtly flirting and throwing small hints at him sound like your best options. Being straight up would be dangerous. You'll have to flirt and pretend like you aren't aware you're flirting-- 'innocently' making your way to what lies beneath his clothes.
You hope it works too. And while you're on that thought, you have to ask Gojo how difficult he thinks this will be for you. God, you hate that man. You don't want to talk to him about anything but you're forced to anyway-
You run right into someone in the hallway.
A phone drops and the binders and books you held make contact with the floor. "Shit," You curse, instantly crouching down to pick up the fallen items.
The person you ran into crouches down too, "Sorry," They apologize, even though you both ran into each other.
You go for the phone and motion the device toward the person, raising your head from the fallen items and meeting a new pair of eyes.
Holy fucking shit. It's another one. Another guy from the list.
And this one is... Well, if not for you picking Geto, this guy would've been your next choice.
Deep sangria-colored irises peer into yours, the shade veering more into the brown spectrum, and oddly attractive eyebags circle the male's eyes. There's a dark black tattoo running across the bridge of his nose and his hair is styled up in two messy ponytails.
You think your heart skipped a beat as you made eye contact with him. Hell, maybe it skipped a few beats-- maybe it stopped working for a second.
His face alone was tantalizing. The man was attractive in a way that made you unable to pry your eyes off him.
You think you flinch when he leans closer to you and tilts his head in concern, "You alright?"
Dazed by his caring voice and mesmerizing eyes, you nod your head. "Y-Yeah." You sigh.
You watch as the man looks down at your lips for a second, then right back up to your eyes as if he didn't mean to glance. The two of you grab all of the fallen items and stand up in sync. You extend your hand out, holding his phone and trying to give it back to him.
"Sorry for running into you," He apologizes again while taking his phone from you.
In return, he hands one of the items of yours he picked up back to you. "You're fine, I should've been watching where I was going."
He shrugs it off and his eyes drop down to the floor for a second before he speaks, "Me too. Also, I like your shoes."
You mimic his motion and look down at your feet, almost as if you'd forgotten what you were wearing. "Thank you," You reply as you look back up to the man.
If there's one thing they all have in common aside from being hot, it's the fact that they're all taller than you. It's something you mentally note as this man stands in front of you.
You smile and make a gesture to his face, "Nice tatt." You compliment simply.
His lips curve into a slight smirk, "Thanks, I did it myself."
"Really?" Your brows raise in surprise.
"Yup."
"Fuck, that's cool. Did it hurt?" You ask curiously, unintentionally leaning forward a little to get a closer look.
He shrugs, "Nah, not really."
You examine it for a second, only growing more and more impressed. "It's like, a perfectly straight line. Are you an art major by any chance?"
"Graphic design." He clarifies, "What about you?"
You shrug casually, "Psycology."
The male's head tilts to the side as he peers down at you, you can tell he's impressed. "Shit, psycology?" His head cocks back a little and he smirks, "That's hot."
"Hot?" You blindly repeat, chuckling at him. "It's just the study of behavior and mind, nothing special honestly."
He scoffs, "I'm pretty sure it's much deeper than that."
"It is but, it's more confusing than hot." You argue.
Your conversation with him is oddly seamless. He's now grinning at you, "The fact that it's confusing and you're still choosing to study it makes it hot."
"So, are you calling me or the major itself hot?" You ask teasingly.
He shamelessly looks you up and down and licks his lips before saying, "Both." He hums.
Your face grows a little warm. "Thanks, you too."
"You think I'm hot?"
"No, I think your major's hot." You utter sarcastically.
He laughs, "Yeah? You think graphic design is hot?"
"Mhm." You hum, "I mean, yeah, you're attractive but when you add on the fact that you're an artist? That multiplies it."
"Really?"
"Yup."
"On that note, you wanna see some of my work?" The man offers surprisingly.
"Yes please." You say with excitement in your voice.
Talking with this man in the middle of the hallway was by far the most refreshing thing you'd experienced within the last six days.
He chuckles and his thumb swipes through his phone for a second. When he finds whatever it is he wants to show you, he motions for you to come closer to him and you do.
Standing by his side and leaning over toward his phone, you see beautiful images of dark-colored designs that are nearly impossible to put into one word.
His art looks like... himself? It's almost as though he put his whole aesthetic onto a piece of paper. You catch shades of black, purple, and red ink swirled together in multiple different designs.
"Holy shit," You breathe out.
He chuckles at your reaction, "I've had a bit of art block recently but uh..."
As he trails off, you turn your head to look at him and notice that your faces are closer than you expected. Neither of you move but the eye contact held is almost intimate.
His voice drops lower and his gaze is unwavering, "I think I just found my new muse."
Heat rushes to your face as you grow flustered. By no means was he referring to you, right?
"R-Really?" You stammer.
His gaze dips lower, focusing on the curve of your lips, "Yeah," He hums.
The two of you lose yourselves in each other's presence for a moment. You nearly forgot about... well, everything for a second.
The male was enamored by you. You were just some random girl he ran into and yet he couldn't take his eyes off you. As for you, well, it's simple to say that you were just as infatuated. His face was so close, so flawless, and yet so mysterious.
You clear your throat and both of you snap out of the little trance you'd been in. Then, the two of you turn away from each other, clearly equally flustered by the closeness and lack of words.
"U-Uhm, your art is b-beautiful by the way." You stutter, physically cringing at the way you're tripping over your words.
You haven't been this nervous in a long time. This is worse than Toji, worse than Geto, and even worse than Gojo. Your heart is a pounding mess and you feel like a high school girl with a crush all over again.
"Th-Thanks," The man beside you chokes out.
A sense of comfort washes over you as you realize you're not the only one whose nerves are bundled up.
He suddenly clears his throat, "Well uh, I should uhm, probably get going."
You turn to look at him, "Right. Sorry for running into you again."
"No, don't apologize. I'm actually glad you did." He says, avoiding looking you in the eyes but smiling a little bit.
"Think I can get your name before you go?" You question shyly.
His gaze meets your face, still looking everywhere except for your eyes. "Choso. Kamo Choso, but you can just call me Choso." He tells you.
You stick a hand out for him to shake and give him your name in return. As his hand meets yours, you notice the slight claminess of his palms-- he was sweating... how cute.
Again, he clears his throat. "Since we're exchanging names, can I get your number too? I doubt we'll run into each other much since we have two entirely different majors..." Choso requests.
You're quick to nod and it's in a matter of seconds that the two of you exchange contact information with one another.
"It was nice meeting you, Choso." You voice out softly.
He nods his head, "Yeah, it was nice meeting you too."
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Alright, so today was an absolute rollercoaster.
From that morning being all lovey-dovey with Gojo, to hating him all over again, to meeting his stupidly sexy professor, to catching a glimpse of the stoic blond, and all the way to having an airy almost whimsical conversation with Choso.
What a day.
Seriously, what a day. Talking to Choso was so different. It didn't feel like you were talking to a target, it didn't feel forced or uncomfortable. Talking to Choso was the most pleasant thing ever.
As you made your way off-campus, your head was in the clouds-- filled with thoughts of the mysteriously artistic man you just had a conversation with. He was different, you could feel it.
You find yourself smiling at the little still moment the two of you had, how innocent it was, and how comfortable you felt. There's a sudden thump in your heart that makes your thoughts freeze.
Shit, the one thing you're not supposed to be doing. The one unspoken rule you'd set for yourself. You're breaking it already. You hardly know the man and you're breaking the single stipulation you'd put on yourself.
No feelings.
It's a simple rule. A needed rule. You can't go around sleeping with different men and fall for one at the same time. That'll never work out.
Imagine the look of disgust on their face when they find out they were just a name you needed to cross off. Hell no, the last thing you want to do is fuck with anyone's heartstrings-- including your own.
But...
Choso was so-
No. Stop it. You think to yourself. You nearly thought the same things about Gojo and look where that got you? In no way can you come out of this situation happy with any of the men involved.
This is just a one-and-done situation. No special cases.
Your goal is to seduce not swoon.
That's all your purpose consists of-- being a little whore for Gojo Satoru. As annoying as it is to come to terms with, that's exactly what your job is here. Fuck people, get paid. Nothing more, and nothing less.
No one becomes the exception. Under no circumstances do you allow anyone to fall for you; nor do you fall for anyone.
The smiles, the laughs, the ticklish feeling you get in your chest-- it all needs to be fake. Those special and cherishable feelings need to forever remain fake.
The second any of those emotions transfer into something real, everything will go to shit.
No relationships.
No feelings.
No romance.
Just sex.
You need to lock those words into your brain for the remainder of this list. Relationships would ruin things, feelings complicate people, romance will never work out, and sex is the only thing you need to focus on achieving.
You're not Gojo so you don't have plans on manipulating people. You simply want to be freed of the grasp he has on you and the only way to do that is by completing this stupid list.
As you made your way home, you thought long and hard about who you would go for first based on the three new people you met.
Toji would be a slow process since you gave yourself six weeks to figure him out. Nanami is a walking question mark since you have literally nothing to go on. And Choso seems all too sweet for you to think about seducing him just yet.
Based on that, you decide that Toji will be your biggest focus for the time being-- unless you spontaneously run into one of the remaining two unidentified people on the list.
With that being the most unlikely thing to happen given how lucky you got today, you end up organizing the list in a journal of yours at home. You'll put them into your own order and check them off as you go.
Yeah, you'll get through this.
...Right?
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GOJO SATORU ✔︎
GETO SUGURU ✔︎
TOJI FUSHIGURO ☐
KAMO CHOSO ☐
NANAMI KENTO ☐
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lovelytsunoda · 7 months ago
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wisdom teeth // oscar piastri (headcanons)
summary: oscar's girlfriend gets her wisdom teeth out
pairing: oscar piastri x female! reader
warnings: mentions of surgery, wisdom teeth, anesthesia....you know, just dental surgery related things
author's note: i lost the picture i normally use for my headcanon dividers and its pissing me off because i can't be bothered to go to an old set and save it again....maybe its time to rebrand slightly.
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he’s such a lover boy!! so attentive for the whole day and recovery period
drives her to the appointment in their Kia suv, something far more sensible than Oscar’s McLaren is, with the sole purpose of making sure she’s comfortable on the way home
he doesn’t leave the surgery once during the procedure. even though they’re told that it will be at least three hours to remove all four teeth, he simply takes a book out of his backpack and camps out in the waiting room
holding her hand while they wait for the anaesthesia to take effect, and kissing her on the forehead before he leaves the operating theatre
he wanted to say but the surgeon said ✨ not on your life✨
so there he is, reading mark webbers autobiography in the waiting room
when she comes out of surgery, she’s not delirious like he had feared
just fucking tired
“hey sweet girl, lean on me. let’s get you to the car. how about we stop for milkshakes on the way home?”
shes bundled up in blankets, groggy as she pushes the seat back, indie rock on the radio and oscar's hand reassuringly rubbing her thigh
shes asleep by the time he gets to the mcdonalds drive through
he has to carry her inside, securely tucking her into their bed and leaving the milkshake on the nightstand
watching tv in the other room at a low volume so he can hear if she wakes up or if she needs anything
helps her shower to wash off the hospital smell, holding her tightly and whispering how proud he is and how good she is
stroking her hair as they eat soup together while watching something mindless on netflix before she falls asleep in his arms halfway through an episode of monk
makes sure she takes all her painkillers on time, drinking lots of water
waits on her hand and foot, even days later when she’s almost fully recovered
“babe, I’m going for a girls night!”
“like hell you are. are you sure you’re well enough? the surgeon said it could take a week. your stitches still need to dissolve.”
“Oscar, it’s just a few mocktails and manicures.”
“fine. but don’t overdo it. no vodka, no sharp foods and no boxing classes at least until Monday.”
“okay, dad.”
but she’s smiling as she says it
Oscar just wants to take care of his pretty girl, and make sure she has everything she needs to get better
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