#a little less absolutely. that’s all i’m asking of you brain

[aquaticmercy]

Waste a Moment / Part 15

Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum.

Requested by :  @remoony

Word count : 2.7k

Note : I have a lot on my inbox and I haven’t been replying a lot lately, but I will go through them tomorrow! Please let me know if I miss anyone on the tags! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

“Name a Price”

Tuesday.

You had said it all—every bitter feeling, every thread of anger that festered so deep inside you that you barely knew where you ended and it began. Alex hadn’t interrupted, hadn’t even shifted in her seat.

She just sat there beside you, listening like she did the first time.

Not as someone who pitied you— but as a friend.

For a while, she didn’t say anything. 

You stared at the glass case in front of you, the one holding Bucky’s war uniform— a symbol of his past that he was still piecing together.

You began to wonder if he’d been someone else back then— someone untouched by Hydra’s corruption. 

But you knew better. That uniform belonged to a man already carrying scars from war you couldn’t begin to fathom. Hydra just amplified it, took advantage of it, added to it.

“I’m not defending Bucky,” Alex finally spoke, “But let me ask you something—hypothetically. If you were still with him, and he somehow forgot all about his Winter Soldier days, would you remind him?”

What?

You turned to her sharply, mouth agape with shock. “That’s not fair.”

“I’m not trying to be fair,” she replied calmly, “it was just a hypothetical question.”

Your hands clenched into fists in your lap. “But that’s neither here nor there,” you muttered, looking away.

“Is it?” Alex pressed, her tone patient but unrelenting. “The only difference I see is scale.”

Her words lingered in your brain like a disease spreading. You wanted to snap at her, to tell her it wasn’t the same thing at all, but… wasn’t it?

“Well,” you said, your voice faltering a little, your conviction a little less absolute. “It’s not the same,” you insisted. “It’s a painful memory for him, and he wouldn’t know how to process it. I wouldn’t want to…”

Your voice trailed off, realising your answer.

The truth— the truth was that you wouldn’t tell him. 

You wouldn’t tell him because you couldn’t bear to see the pain, to see the humanity ripped away again. You wouldn’t be able to look at the way it would twist his beautiful blue eyes and pull him back into the darkness he’d spent so long trying to climb out of. You wouldn’t tell him because you didn’t think you could survive watching him rip himself apart, questioning his very existence, his place in the world.

But was that fair? Could you make that choice for him?

Alex’s voice cut through your spiralling thoughts. “Doesn’t he deserve to know the truth?”

You flinched, feeling the words hit like a punch. 

“It wouldn’t be my place to give it to him,” you said, your tone harsher than you intended— like it was your last line of defence. 

“So you’d be complicit,” Alex said bluntly.

That word stunned you. It froze you in place.

Complicit.

You felt your chest tighten, your breath stopping for a split second. 

Complicit. 

Like Yelena.

The realisation struck you like a punch to the gut. 

Even as you tried to tend to the wounds, you still held a grudge against Yelena for what she’d done, for keeping the truth from you. You hated the way she had looked at you with pity in her eyes. You hated that she’d known all along. You hated that she knew when the truth came out, it would destroy you. 

But now, you realised, if you were in Yelena’s shoes, wouldn’t you have done the exact same thing?

“And how do you think he’d feel if he found out the way you did?” Alex continued quietly.

You swallowed hard, but the lump in your throat wouldn’t go away. 

You didn’t have to imagine it. You already knew— you knew exactly how he’d feel.

He’d feel like the ground had been ripped out from under him, like the air had been stolen from his lungs. He’d feel betrayed. Hurt. 

Like his entire world was a lie.

Just like you had.

You loved Alex— she was your friend— but you hated how exposed you felt, how easily her words broke down the walls you've built around yourself.

“It’s not that simple,” you said, your voice breaking.

“I know,” Alex replied, she put her hand on yours, trying to keep you steady. “But I think… Bucky did what he did out of love. It doesn’t make it right, but it doesn’t make it wrong either. It makes it human.”

“So what?” You almost snapped if not for the stray sob that escaped your mouth. “I’m just supposed to forgive him? Pretend like it’s all okay because he meant well?”

“No,” Alex said firmly. “You’re allowed to be angry. You’re allowed to hurt.” She paused, her eyes holding yours. “But ask yourself this: what’s holding on to this anger costing you?”

You knew exactly what it cost you: it cost you your happiness, and his.

—

When you stepped into your apartment, you saw him.

Bucky stood in the kitchen, his back turned to you, shoulders tense he moved around the stove. The soft clatter of utensils and the low hiss of simmering liquor on the burner made your apartment feel like him. 

The scent was rich, warm, and familiar. It was your favourite dish. 

On the table nearby, your clear vase was now home to a bouquet of flowers, your favourite flowers— the ones he always teased you about loving because they never lasted long. You’d playfully huff, telling him it bloomed so beautifully in the short time it had lived. 

They were arranged with painstaking care—one you knew Bucky was capable of. The petals were flawless, the colours vibrant, as if he’d combed through hundreds of blooms to find the most perfect ones.  

“Hey,” he said softly. He turned to face you, his movements careful, as if afraid to shatter the fragile truce between you. 

When his eyes found yours, a tentative smile curved his lips. His voice was different— gentle, stripped of the defensive edge you had expected.

Your breath hitched.

You’d imagined this moment countless times while you were laying in the hospital bed. 

In some versions, your fury took centre stage, unleashed on him like a storm. In others, the anger had dulled, leaving only an all- consuming sadness, refusing to acknowledge he existed all together. 

You had breached for him to plead, to beg. But this? This peace, this tenderness—it wasn’t what you’d prepared for. 

“Hi,” you managed to say, your voice barely more than a whisper. It felt heavy, like the first crack in a dam threatening to spill. You closed the door behind you, and walked to the dinner table, sitting down before your knees gave out.

Bucky turned back to the stove, setting the spoon down, giving himself a moment to gather his thoughts. He wiped his hands on a towel before walking over to the table. 

His movements were careful, like a man walking a tightrope. “I didn’t want you to come back to… an empty home. Not again,” he murmured, his hand raking through his hair, as it always did when he was anxious. “So I thought I’d, uh, take care of the place. Until you came back. If you came back.”

You stared at him, then at his careful effort he’d put into making the apartment feel welcoming. After all this time, your home didn’t feel yours anymore— not entirely.. It felt like it belonged to both of you. 

“You didn’t have to do this,” you said finally, your voice trembling. 

“I know,” he said, his voice barely holding steady. His eyes met yours, and for the first time since the hospital, there was no mask, no shield. No defences raised, no excuses. “But I wanted to.”

The vulnerability in his eyes was an invitation, not a deflection.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” he said, breaking the moment as he turned back to the stove.

You nodded, fingers brushing over the soft petals of the flowers. Questions swirled in your mind—so many questions, accusations, words you’d rehearsed over and over. But you didn’t say any of them. Instead, you let him take care of you as you once did— you let him finish dinner.  

When he finally brought the plates over, he sat across from you, his hands resting on his knees like he was bracing for impact. You stared at the food, then at him.

“Thank you,” you said. Picking up your fork felt… comforting. It felt like home.

“I can go,” he said suddenly, almost panicked. “I’ll do the dishes and leave.”

“No,” you said quickly, the word surprising even yourself. Your chest tightened as you recalled your conversation with Alex, her reminder that he was human, a reminder that healing could only start if you accepted that he could make mistakes. You set your fork down and met his eyes. “I’m ready to talk.”

Bucky hesitated, his fingers tracing anxious patterns along the table. His muscles tightened, his eyes fixed downward as if the weight of what he was about to say could shatter everything between you. “I don’t… I don’t know where to start.”

You swallowed, the lump forming in your throat. You forced yourself to breathe through it. 

The thought of finally hearing him out was terrifying, but you knew you owed it to yourself. “I don’t care where you start,” you said gently.

His hand stilled in a grip that held the table’s edge a little too tightly. “I know you know I wasn’t always this w-way. This perfect person you’ve known these past few months… I’ve always wanted to be him, for you.”

His words hit you like a wave, the sincerity pulling at your heartstrings. 

“I never needed you to be perfect, Bucky,” you said, the tremble in your tone almost taking over, “I just needed you to be honest.”

He lifted his gaze then, his eyes clouded with regret, pain, and mostly— shame. “How could I?” He murmured, his voice cracking, “For so long, I thought I was protecting you by keeping parts of myself locked away. By being… distant. I thought that if I didn’t let you get too close, you’d be better off. Safer. I didn’t… I didn’t know how t-to justify this change.”

“But why?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended. “Why did you think I couldn’t handle it? Why didn’t you trust me enough to let me in?”

He flinched at your tone, his shoulders dropping as if the question had drained him. He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking before answering. “Because I didn’t think I deserved you.” He looked at you then, his eyes so full of pain. “I told myself you deserved someone whole, someone who wasn’t… broken. And I thought that if I kept my distance, you would hate me. But you didn’t. Not until… not until now.”

But he was wrong. You didn’t hate him— you never could. You hated that he lied, But him? No, you could never bring yourself to hate him.

“So you pushed me away,” you said quietly, a confirmation of what you knew all along.

He nodded, lI thought I could keep my distance and pretend like it was for the best. But every time I was around you, I felt this… like I couldn’t breathe.”

There it was again. 

He couldn’t breathe around you, he admitted time and again. But not because he hated you. Not because he found your presence suffocating.

It was because you were so damn precious to him that the very thought of sharing the same air as you felt like a privilege he hadn’t earned.

“Instead of facing it,” he continued, “I built a wall around myself.”

Today, his words weren’t excuses; they were admissions. Every letter felt like it cost him a piece of himself.

“I know I hurt you,” he said, his voice breaking. “And I know I can’t undo that. But when you lost your memory… I don’t know. It felt like I had this chance to—to start over. To be the man you deserved. To show you the kind of love I’ve always wanted to give you.”

You blinked back tears. It was like piecing together the puzzle of your past, one fragment of pain at a time. “But you didn’t think to tell me?” you asked, “You didn’t think I deserved to know?”

A pang guilt crossed his face, his mouth falling into a frown. “I should have,” he admitted, “I should’ve told you everything from the start. But I was so scared that if you knew, you’d see the worst of me. That you’d hate me for it. And losing you… I couldn’t handle... couldn’t think….”

You wanted to yell at him, to tell him how much his silence had hurt you, how it had made you question everything. But you also understood, in a way that only love could explain. Alex’s little thought experiment made you connect to his fear— the paralysing fear of losing that meant so much to you. 

“I’m not going to pretend this doesn’t hurt,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears welling in your eyes. “I can’t go back to the way things were before, Bucky. No more lies, no more walls. If we’re going to try this— I need to know all of you. The good, the bad, the broken. All of it.”

His eyes widened.

A second chance—after everything he’d hidden from you? 

It seemed impossible— yet here you were, offering it to him.

He hesitated, then reached for your hand, still not believing that he deserved your touch.

When his trembling fingers brushed against yours, you didn’t pull away. Instead, you turned your hand, weaving your fingers through his.

“I promise,” he said, “I’ll be better. I’ll be honest. No more walls, no more hiding.”

His fingers tightened around yours, afraid you might still let go, afraid you might change your mind. 

But you held on, your grip firm “I don’t need you to be perfect,” you repeated. “I just need you to be honest. I need you to let me in.”

His breath faltered, and for a moment, he looked at you like you were the only thing that could keep him tethered to this earth. “I’ll let you in,” his voice broke. “I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that you made the right choice.”

As you sat there holding his hand, you felt the presence of something stronger than fear—hope.

“Can I kiss you?” He finally asked

Your heartbeat quickened, your chest tightening at the sincerity in his request. 

For a moment, you saw it—the life you both wanted, the way it could feel so right, so safe, in his arms. And yet, the cracks of what you’d been through together were still there. The answer that rose within you wasn’t what you’d expected, but it was clear.

“No.”

The word left your lips gently, but firmly. His thumb froze against your skin, his body tensing. The faintest flicker of hurt crossed his eyes. 

He opened his mouth to apologise, but before he could, you interrupted him.

“I’m not saying no forever,” you said, “But I want to take things slow. I need to trust that this—whatever we’re building now—isn’t just us rushing to cover up the hurt. I need to know it’s real.”

For a moment, he just looked at you. Slowly, his shoulders relaxed. A small, almost shy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “We’ll go as slow as you need,” he said.

He leaned back slightly, letting his fingers slip from yours.

There was no more resentment, no bitterness— only understanding. 

The two of you continued eating in silence, exchanging glances that lingered just a little longer than usual, small, subtle smiles that promised a fragile piece. Each moment felt like a step forward, like a rebuilding of trust, brick by brick, piece by piece.

When the meal was over, he stood to clear the dishes. As he walked past your chair, he paused. His fingers brushed against your shoulder, a fleeting touch. It wasn’t possessive or pleading anymore. Instead, it was a quiet reminder. I’m here. I’m staying. I’m not going to hide anymore.

And for the first time, you truly believed him. Not because he’d said the right thing, not because he was perfect. But because he was trying. 

Because he was human, and he finally saw himself that way. 

-To be continued…

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[i-cast-zone-of-truth]

So it’s possible there may be. Some obsessive aspects to my personality

[nanaslutt]

gojo and vibrator overstim??? he pleasures u like crazy after u guys go to a party and he sees a lot of guys checking u out, but instead of taking it out on u he decides he just wants to worship u😭😭 and he makes u cum a lot of times dkslmds idk

When your girlfriend is too hot for her own good ft. satoru gojo x reader

this is the longest thing i’ve ever written i absolutely loved this prompt..

contains: fem reader, established relationships, whipped!gojo, jealousy, perv!npc’s, vibrators, sooooo much dirty talk, praise, like a ridiculous amount, body worship, cockwarming, overstimulation, mating press, multiple orgasms, no condoms in sight, breeding kink if u squint, squirting for the first time, domestic af

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

After Gojo finished zipping up your dress and hooking the clips at the top to secure it for you, he slapped your ass, grabbing the fat in his palms, “Goddd, i’m so fucking lucky,” he sighed dramatically.

Sliding his large hands around to the front of your body and cradling your hips, resting his head on your shoulder while he admired your current look.

Makeup applied just right, not a glitter of highlight out of place, hair styled in a way that gave his intruding eyes free roam to admire back of your neck, dress fitted perfectly to your body, accentuating every curve and dip of your perfect stature.

Opting to wear your shorter heels because knowing satoru, you two would be at this “party” for a very long time.

Everyone always wanted to talk to Satoru every time he showed himself in public. It was no suprise, considering his popularity throughout the jujutsu world from his incredible technique and strength; maybe a little from his blunt and childish personality too; and non jujutsu sourcerers we’re quick to swarm him from just his handsome looks alone.

Eyes that lit up any room, a perfectly symmetrical and slim face that looked like it had been hand chiseled from the finest stones, and his snowy white hair to top it all off. Satoru always getting asked the same question from girls and guys alike, flirtation laced in their voice when they spoke, “So, is that your natural hair color??”

His height sure didn’t help in making him any less invisible than he already wasn’t.

You two didn’t attend parties or anything of the sort too frequently though, usually only making an appearance at certain events when you had to.

This time it was a little different. Shoko had insisted on Gojo trying out this new club she started to frequent, rambling about how the ambience was just perfect; of course she didn’t fail to mention the high quality liquor they housed in the process.

Satoru hadn’t been to a club in a minute, since he started going out with you. Not seeing the need to anymore.

He only went to clubs before to let off steam after a particularly hard mission, letting some stranger dry hump him on the dance floor, or drinking some too-sweet non alcoholic drink with shoko at the bar, complaining about his day.

He never took any of the strangers home though, he just needed to get out of his head, letting the lights, shitty blaring music, and sweaty bodies overstimulate his mind for a night.

Then he found you. Perfect, sweet, little you. He found that he much rather would wrap his arms around you in the comfort of his quiet, familiar home, and lay on your breasts while you ran your fingers through his hair.

Nails raking comfortingly over his scalp as the stressors of his day melted from his brain. Why was he even stressed again?

See? This was a hundred times better than the club.

But when shoko was insistent, she was thoroughly insistent.

When you stepped through the thick doors of the establishment, guided by satoru’s comforting palm on your lower back, you couldn’t help but notice this felt a lot more lax than what you were expecting.

Music not overbearing, people mingling with each other, and weirdly seeing a lot of familiar faces in the crowd.

“Satoru, where are we right now? I thought this was a club.” you asked, tilting your head up at him while he led you in the direction of the bar, to get you something to loosen you up; he knew how you got antsy at these things sometimes.

“Ah, I didn’t explain very well did I?” he giggled, “Thisss,” gojo paused to splay his arm out in front of him, “Is where Jujutsu sourcerers come to relax!” that explains why you saw so many familiar faces…

“I think that’s why Shoko loves this place so much, people tend to stay away from her here..” pursing his lips pretending to think, “She can be quite intimidating when you know her..” he finished, shaking his head dramatically like he was trying to forget a scary memory.

“Anyways, how are you feeling sweet thing? wanna get a drink first?” Your handsome boyfriend asked you, hand still resting against your back as he gave you a little smile.

“Yeah I uh-“ looking over Gojo’s shoulder before continuing, “I think that blonde guy is trying to get your attention.” pausing your response to your boyfriend as you tipped your head forward, signaling behind gojo.

He turned his neck, shoulders perking up when his eyes focused on the man, “Yooo! How’s it goin!” Gojo waved his free hand at the man as he chirped cheerfully at him. “Was sent on a mission with him once when i was a third year, some ‘rival school bonding’ activity.” he explained.

“Looks like it worked,” you laughed, bringing your hand down to pat him on his firm behind, “You should go talk to him, it sounds like you haven’t seen him in a while.” Encouraging him, starting to slip out from his hold.

“You sure baby?” he asked, slightly pouting, not wanting you to feel awkward or neglected by yourself. God satoru was so sweet. You laughed at his antics before smiling fondly, reassuring him, “I’ll be okay toru, jus’ gonna go make myself at home on a bar stool.”

Gojo gripped your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he started off for his old acquaintance. Your heels clicked on the ground as you made your way over to the bar in the other direction satoru had gone off in.

You ordered yourself a drink, something sweet, and not too strong, just something to relax your nerves as you were now by yourself in a space you’ve never been before.

Just when you started thinking you should go make small talk with someone there, a tall man walked up to you, noticing the few buttons on his shirt undone. For some reason this made him look less intimidating; you were already walking around like there was a stick up your ass, so seeing someone look a little more laid back eased your nerves a bit.

He introduced himself, giving your figure a quick one over that you missed as you stuck your hand out for the man to shake, introducing yourself politely back.

The two of you got lost in conversation, talking about how harboring your jobs were, the only common subject you thought of to talk about with the stranger.

Gojo had made himself comfortable on the halfmoon sofa adjacent to the bar, conversing with a small crowd now, all catching up and laughing with each other.

After maybe half an hour or so, when the conversation was diverged away from him, he averted his gaze to you, watching you giggle at something the dark haired man said.

He didn’t recognize him, but he did recognize the hungry look he had on his face. The same one gojo had whenever he looked at you.

You looked completely oblivious to the man’s gaze as you continued ranting, the alcohol obviously having some affect on you, looking so relaxed while you talked to him.

Gojo couldnt take his eyes off of the scene in front of him for the life of him. People around gojo’s voices starting to become distorted at he channeled 110% of his focus onto you.

Giving a quick glance around the room and catching two guys staring at your ass. The way you were perched on the stool, body leaned into the counter a bit, making your back arch, poking your backside out in association, made you look incredibly seductive.

One of the men elbowed the other in the ribs, making him look at the sight he was witnessing; that of which being your body.

Gojo stared at them like if he tried hard enough, he could make them go blind with his mind.

Satoru would never in a million years stop you from wearing something you wanted out of the house; scandalous or not.

He loved seeing you feel good in your body, so if that meant wearing nipple pasty’s and a fishnet bodysuit out of the house? so be it, he would be in his rightful place on your hip the whole time.

But right now, he really wished everyone would stop looking at what was his.

He knew you looked good, you always did, but that didn’t give these sleazeball’s the right to oggle you like a piece of meat.

Bringing his attention back to you and the man you were conversing with, he noticed his hand had placed itself on the side of your stool, dangerously close to your thigh.

His lip twitched at the thought of his filthy hands touching your sacred body.

Giving a one over to the people around him once more and realizing that a lot more than just the man you were talking to and the 2 sluts objectifying you in the corner were passing glances at you.

“Gojo? you good?” His old acquaintance asked skeptically when he realized the veins looked like they were threatening to burst in gojos hands as he squeezed at the arm of the sofa.

Satoru stood up without saying so much as a goodbye to the people he was with, not caring about how rude or disrespectful he came off, as he quickly made his way over to your side of the room.

“Haha, I agree,” the man laughed a little to hard at something you said that truthfully wasn’t all that funny, “Mind if I get you another drink cute thing? Looks like you finished that one.” he flirted.

Finally picking up at his flirtations you started to reply, “Oh! uh.” uncomfortably shifting in your seat at the pet name, suddenly way to aware of his hand on your stool next to your leg. When did it even get there?

Looking over to where Satoru was supposed to be, eyes widening slightly, when the familiar face was nowhere to be found.

“Sorry cute thing, did i scare ya?” gojo mimicked the man across from you, staring daggers into his eyes with his intimidating orbs as he wrapped his arms around your body, large frame towering behind you.

“Satoru! jus’ figured you went to the bathroom or somethin’” you said, rubbing his hand that was placed on your torso with your thumb affectionately.

“Uh we were having a conversation.” the man interrupted your affections to one another, not listening to Satoru’s very obvious hints that you were not on the market. He figured he would make it a little more obvious for the strangers dense little head.

“Sorry buddy, i’m not feeling too well right now, so I need my cute little girlfriend to take me home.” emphasizing the nature of your relationship as he pouted his lip fakely at him.

“Not feelin good toru?” you asked, turning your neck around to look at him, face full of concern.

He felt his heart skip a beat at your worried tone. “Yeah ‘m sorry baby, you looked like you were havin a good time, but I really wanna get outta here.” overwhelming eyes glancing over the room, scaring off each and every last person’s ravenous stares on your body.

You stood up, smoothing out your dress as gojo fell into position like always, hand on the slope of your back as he crouched down to lay his head on your shoulder dramatically, trying to get you to baby him.

It worked, your hand coming up to ruffle his hair, “It’s alright toru, my conversation here was just wrapping up.” you referred to the man who unbeknownst to you was trying to come onto you throughout this whole interaction.

Sticking his tongue out childishly at the man when you weren’t looking, the two of you started for the door.

Gojo never got self conscious about himself, but you were different. He didn’t realize how much he really hated people looking at you like you were nothing but a body until you were in situations like these.

He wasn’t scared you would leave him for someone else but…ok maybe he was slightly scared you would leave him for someone else.

He’s the great Gojo Satoru!! The strongest sorcerer of the modern age!! People think he wasn’t aware of how obnoxious his personality got sometimes, but he was. He was aware of it being a turn off for many people.

He never thought that you would feel like that about him though, but seeing all of these admittedly attractive people who possibly had less annoying tendencies than him made him hold your body against him tighter.

“Are you feeling alright satoru? you never wanna leave these things early.” you asked, coming to stand in front of him when you finally exited the building. Standing on your tippy toes to reach his forehead, placing the back of your hand against it to feel if he was coming down with something.

Gojo relished in your warm hand against his soft skin, closing his eyes at the contact and groaning when you pulled away. “M fine, people just have fucking staring problems.” he mumbled under his breath.

“Huh?” you asked confused when he didn’t elaborate. Gojo grabbed your hand, dragging you in the direction of the car.

The walk was a short one. When you finally arrived, he opened got door for you, helping you into the car as he shut it behind you, walking around to his respective side of the car and sliding in before turning on the ignition, pulling out onto the dark street.

You rubbed your hand on his thigh comfortingly when he stayed silent.

“You love me right?” He spoke up, uncharacteristically insecure.

“You big dope, did you get jealous watchin me talk to someone else all night? You left me first remember?” hand coming up briefly to pinch his cheek, making him groan, before dropping back down to his thigh.

“Course I love you.” you admitted truthfully. 

“Ugghhhhh” gojo groaned loudly, slightly tipping his head back, being sure to keep his eyes on the road when he did so, “but he was practically fucking you with his eyesss.” drawling our his words childishly, pouting over at you.

“He what?” you asked in bewilderment.

“So oblivious baby, you need to be more careful, someone besides your big strong boyfriend might try to eat you up one day” grimacing slightly as he shook his head at your lack of picking-up-when-people-wanna-fuck-you radar.

“What kinda of weird things are you imagining in that head of yours, huh?” letting out a short laugh at his ridiculousness, retracting your hand back into your own lap.

“I’m seriousss,” he whined, glancing over at you, “He was lookin at you like he could fuck you better than I do.”

You almost choked on your spit at his words, “Satoru gojo!” you chastised at his bluntness.

Now it was his turn to drop his hand onto your thigh, squeezing the fat there when he spoke, “I’ll prove him wrong when we get home, gonna show him how much better I can make you feel.” He said, determination, laced in his voice.

“Satoru I don’t even remember his name.” You replied honestly, not denying that his promise sounded very intriguing though, still internally scoffing at his childishness in the current situation.

“Bet he remembers yours.” Making a point to slide his big hand higher up your thigh.

“Bet he memorized every inch of your body too, fucking undressing what’s mine with his eyes, who does he think he is.” gripping your thigh tightly as he got angry at his own words.

You gasped quietly, thighs squeezing together almost unnoticeably at gojos rough treatment of your leg.

"T-toru you're making stuff up again. You stuttered out, watching his jaw clench under the pressure of his teeth pressing tightly together inside his closed mouth.

Satoru ignored your words completely as he kept voicing his thoughts, "He wouldn't have any idea how to touch you like I do."

"Satoru, please." You begged, starting to feel yourself grow wet at his dirty words.

"What is it princess? The thought of me touchin' you getting you all excited?" Finally stopping his chatter about the unwanted man.

"Yes, please for the love of god stop talking." you gripped his wrist connected to his hand that was still tightly on your thigh.

"But I love making you feel good baby, wanna make you feel good all the time." He wines. You drop your gaze down to his lap and notice the massive tent in his pants, twitching every so often.

He really wasn't lying when he said he loves making you feel good. Figuring that part of the culprit for his huge boner was gojo's own words, working himself up for no reason. Not like you were complaining, as it was sounding like you were about get the best dick of your life soon.

Satoru had nothing to prove to anyone in your eyes, but in his, he had multiple faces burning into his retinas of people from the club that he wanted to line up in front of his king bed, and make them watch while he showed them how to properly treat someone like you.

"You make me feel so good satoru, dont think anyone's denying that, but ur makin' me feel all needy, please shut ur mouth till we get home. Don't know if I can take it." You whine, rubbing your thumb on the back of his hand.

He giggled, retracting his hand from your thigh, opting to place his elbow agasint the center console, grinning as he shut himself up, cock still throbbing for attention against his zipper.

The rest of the car ride was silent, air palpable, and thick with the need you both had for each other. When the car came to a park in his garage, he calmly slid out of the car, shutting the door behind him. Walking at a steady pace over to your side of the car while you waited patiently, hands crossed in your lap as you swallowed harshly.

When he slung your door open his hand came into your view, placing your palm in his larger one, he assisted you out of the car, shutting the door behind you. He let you walk in front of him, trailing closely behind you.

Getting your keys out of your purse, you flipped through them, trying to find the one that led to satoru's garage door, shaky hands trying to steady themselves when you felt Gojo press himself against your back.

You felt his clothed boner press against your ass first, followed by his hands sliding over your lower stomach, eyes rolling back at the feeling. Then you felt his plush lips against your neck, leaving soft kisses down the sensitive skin as you fought your brain to work properly so you could insert the key into the door and get on with him.

He whimpered your name into your neck, followed by a "hurry" right when you successfully cracked the door open.

Gojo swiftly spun your body around, pinning you against the door and shutting it in the process, pressing his chest to yours as he assulted your lips with kisses, moaning against you.

He slotted his thick thigh between yours, forcing a whimper out of your mouth as he undid the hooks to your dress on the nape of your neck.

"Bedroom" you managed to get out in between kisses. He started removing his tie, quickly undoing the top 2 of his dress shirt buttons, and pulling you backwards with him when he started for the bedroom.

The light of the night seeping in from his floor to ceiling window wall being the only light the two of you had to be able to navigate through his large house.

You whimpered his name into his mouth, cursing when he slid your zipper down your back while you made your way to the bedroom. You kicked the fabric off your body and he leaned down to scoop you up in his arms, now having unobstructed access to your body.

Wrapping your legs around his hips, panty-clad cunt grinding into the rough material of his pants when you bounced along his body as he walked. "Need you," he muttered against your lips between kisses. while he reached a heavy hand around your back and expertly snapped off your bra.

Bumping you both into the wall quite a few times, easing the tension a bit and making you both giggle into the kiss, before he finally made it to the destination of his bedroom.

Plopping your back down on the bed, legs still tightly wrapped around his hips. Gojo started needily humping against your heat, hand coming down to undo his belt quickly.

"Fuck me satoru." you moaned into his mouth. Gojo had to slap himself mentally at that, gaining a sliver of his rational brain back. He had something he wanted to do before he fucked you good.

"I will baby, I will. don't worry" gojo left his promise all over your lips.

Finding his zipper with ease he slid the metal down, leaning back from your frame to try and slide his pants off, proving to be a challenge when your legs stayed wrapped tightly on his hips.

"Gotta let me go so I can get ready for you princess." He smirked. Your eyes were lidded, face flushed, and lips swollen from his lips assault. Breathing heavily you whispered out an "ok" before dropping your legs against the mattress.

"Such a good girl." Gojo praised, sliding his pants and boxers off in one swift motion, long curved cock flopping up against his abdomen with a wet "plp" sound from he dripping tip. His cock looked so angry, the tip a darker shade of pink than it usually was from how aroused he was right now. Nothing but the thought of pleasing you on his brain.

You pressed your knees together in front of him, trying to relive some of the neediness you were feeling between your thighs at the sight of his thick cock. Your eyes flitted between his deliciously curved member, and his beautiful eyes when he leaned over you again, sliding his fingers underneath the fabric of the panties resting on your hip, and sliding them off of you.

Satoru groaned out loud when the cloth peeled away from your cunt. The part that cupped your mound sticking to your skin from how your wetness had seeped through in anticipation.

"Haven't even done anything yet and you're so fucking wet." he moaned, balling up the panties in his hand and throwing them in the pile he was creating, currently made up of just his pants and boxers, making a mental note to keep that specific pair to himself after this.

Undoing the last couple of his dress shirt buttons he let it drape off his large frame sensually, joining the mess on the floor, leaving him completely nude. You yourself were not fairing any better, having been stripped naked in the hall, expensive dress forgotten somewhere in the living room.

Placing his hands on your kneecaps, he spread you open for him, staring hungrily down at your cunt, shaking his head at his disbelief when he saw the slick practically gushing out of your little hole, clenching around nothing.

"Please do something." You begged. Gojo didn't waste any more time, he wrapped his hands around your hips, and placed his back against the headboard in a sitting position, plopping you down on top of him, smaller hands pressing themselves against his pecs.

His cock throbbed, hovering right under your pussy. If he just thrust his hips up slightly, it might accidentally slip in.

"Want you to face away from me, and sit yourself on my dick." He requested, "Dont worry about movin' jus want you to take it all in yourself." He comforted.

Gojo never got tired of watching you struggle to take in his ridiculous size, little moans and cries slipping out between your lips as your face scrunched in pleasure, tears forcing their way down your cheeks. The latter reaction he unfortunately wouldn't be able to witness this time, as you started into action.

Turning your naked chest away from him; much to his dismay; bracing your feet on the bed, one hand coming back to stabilize yourself against his hard abs while you used the other to align his impossibly hard cock with your tiny hole.

Rubbing the tip and his precum alike against your enterance, before your other hand came down to hold your weight against his abs, cock sliding into you with litte resistance thanks to how wet you both were.

"F-fuuuuck 's so big," You whined, tipping your head back and squeezing your eyes shut at the stretch. Gojo bit his lip, hand gripping bruisingly into your hip, relishing in your warm walls constricting around his cock.

"I knoww, takin it so good though princess, just like you always do," He praised, rubbing his fingertips against your skin as he kept talking you through it. Both of you letting out a groan together when you finally bottomed out on his cock.

You let your weight off of your feet and hands when Satoru placed his own on the bed, slinging your legs over his thighs, and making you hold your legs open for him as he placed kisses to the back of your head, "Did so good baby, took the whole thing so fucking good." His words made you clench around him, a feeling he didn't miss, as he smiled against your scalp.

"Satoru...move," you pleaded, noticing how he was staying still. He told you not to move, so you didn't, but you didn't know if you could take it if he only wanted to cockwarm you right now.

"Patience baby," Your body moved with his slightly when he leaned his body sideways, cracking open the bedside drawer and pulling out a baby blue bullet vibrator, clicking the toy on to make sure it was charged, before clicking it beck off when it successfully vibrated strongly between his fingers.

"Gonna make you feel so good princess," Confused at the brief buzzing sound you heard, about to voice your question when you felt the buzzing this time.

Gojo had pressed the vibrator against the inside of your thigh, slowly dragging it up and down your skin teasingly.

“T-toru- what are u doin?” you asked in a small voice, legs twitching, threatening to close in on themselves if it wasn’t for your hands keeping them open.

“Gonna worship you baby, just lay there n keep those legs spread for me ok?” His tall stature meant that even sitting, he still towered over you. This gave him a great view of everything.

Staring down at you he could see the side of your face; and the blush that covered it; the way your body folded, your wetness sticking against your inner thighs. Gojo was in heaven.

Using his free hand, he splayed his massive palm out right under your breast, keeping you pressed against his body.

He felt your pussy twitch around his cock steadily, feeling the heartbeat in your walls as you continued rubbing the soft silicone that coated the vibrator, over your skin.

The continuous pulsing around his shaft was making him dizzy, eyelids drooping heavily on his face, body buzzing with warmth and arousal at the situation.

His teasing finally ceased when he heard you whimper out his name sweetly, begging for the last time without words that you needed him to do something.

Placing the vibrator on its lowest setting against the hood of your clit softly, rubbing it in small circles over the nub. Gojo alternated between the latter motion and pressing it directly against your clit, pushing the hood of your clit out of the way, being forced to make room for the toy.

Your stomach clenched, body jerking in on itself when the toy touched a particular part of your pussy, and the stimulation became a little too much.

“o-oh my go-d toruuu,” you whined. Gojo’s watchful eyes never left his ministrations on your clit, absolutely enthralled with the scene in front of him. “looks like that feels so fucking good,” he moaned into the shell of your ear, wincing when your walls squeezed around his cock like you were trying to milk him for all he was worth.

“s-oo good f-fuck.” your breathily moans filled the air as you tipped your head back on his shoulder. He quickly started pressing little kisses all over your cheeks as you shut your eyes, letting him take care of you.

“That’s right, let go for me baby, I got you.” he softly whispered against your cheek, diverting his eyes back on your pussy. If he looked close enough he could see the way your opening squeezed around him, the sight being almost too erotic to handle.

“Keep your body against me baby,” he said before he left his hold on your torso and joined it down between your thighs with his other hand.

Using a couple thick fingers, he traced around the opening of your cunt, feeling how the soft flesh was pulled taught to make room for his girth.

“That t-ickles,” you wined, feeling him make a V shape with his index and middle fingers, rubbing them around where the base of his cock and your pussy met.

“Does it only tickle?” he asked, proving your words wrong when he pressed the vibrator harder against you, the buzzing sensation making your toes curl.

“So erotic..” he let out a little giggle, “Wish you could see this right now.” he continued, drawing little shapes on your clit and rubbing around the rim of your cunt, “Pussy is stretched to the limits while she’s huggin my cock.” he spoke, amazed.

You whined at his dirty words, silently wishing he would shut his big mouth, but not daring to say it out loud. His words not-so-secretly making you even wetter.

His cock had been leaking steadily into you throughout this entire interaction. Balls tightening with the need to release his seed inside you, to really fill you up and mark you internally as his.

Gojo closed his eyes, relishing in the intamacy, pressing his plush lips to your neck and sucking, leaving little bruises all over the expanse of your neck that he could reach.

After a while, he noticed your breath had started to pick up, cunt squeezing him continuously now instead of pulsing, “T-toru, think i-i’m gonna cum.” you whined softly, tilting your head towards him, making his raise his from his place against your neck, and stare into your eyes.

He smiled, already knowing from what your body was telling him before you spoke. “Go ahead baby, want feel you cum around my dick, you deserve it.” he spoke sweetly.

As much as he wanted to watch your pussy when it gushed out around him, right now he was so enthralled with your face. The both of you staring at each other, breathing heavily, your expression was pulled in an aroused pout, while his lips were formed in a smile.

You knew this orgasm was going to be a big one, stomach tingling with a stronger sensation than normal. Internally panicking slightly before you spoke, “f-feels d-ifferent toru.” you warned.

“Feel kinda like ur gunna pee?” he knowingly questioned. It took every molecule in his body to not cum when you nodded your head twords him, “Aww ‘s ok princess, just let it out okay? promise it’s gonna feel so fucking good.” he encouraged.

You were about to squirt. This was something he thought about in the back of his mind every time he fucked you. Always wishing that when you came, something else would come out too.

You were squirming around in his hold at the unfamiliar feeling coiling itself in your tummy. The steady buzzing and delicious circles he was keeping up on your clit only increasing the intensity of it.

Feeling yourself begin to tip over the edge, you hurried out your words, “T-toru, kiss meee, p-please,” needing him to help you through the sensation that was about to come.

“I got you, I got you.” he giggled, pressing his lips to yours, messily tonguing the inside of your mouth while your moans raised it pitch, whimpering into his cavern.

“mhm, mhmmm,” he encouraged, as he started thrusting his hips up, fucking his dick in and out of you, helping you feel even better as his tip beat repeatedly against your gspot.

Your mouth stopped cooperating, jaw going slack as you felt your orgasm start to wreck you. Eyes rolling back in your head as the waves of your high washed over you, “yesyesyes,” gojo groaned out laughing, feeling the first trickles of your squirt spray out around him.

You were moaning so loud, broke cries of his barely coherent name leaving your mouth as he quickly rubbed the vibrator back and forth across your clit.

Balls finally releasing his seed into you at the feeling and visual of your squirt absolutely drenching the sheets underneath the two of you.

He groaned into the air, breathy laughs mixing in with them while he humped each and every last rope of his cum into your womb, pressing his balls hard against your ass when he thrusted inside.

“Holy shittt,” he dragged out when he started to come down from arguably one of the best orgasms he’s ever had in his life.

“That was so fucking hot, good job baby,” bringing his attention back your face, leaving sloppy wet kisses all over your cheeks, licking up the tears that had fallen.

You looked so fucked out, chest heaving, and cunt twitching around him in the aftershocks, eyes fluttering at the intensity in which you just came.

“You did so fucking well, how did that feel?” he asked? Giving yourself a second to catch your breath before you spoke, you mumbled out, “intense.”

“Awww I bet, looked like it felt so good to let it out though, pussy almost snapped my dick off with that one.” he giggled into your cheek.

“Thank you toru, needed that.” you spoke breathlessly.

“Don’t thank me just yet sweet thing” he said. You cracked your eyes open when you felt him slide out from underneath you, situating you in the missionary position.

Gojo placed the breifly forgot about vibrator back on your oversensitive clit, making your legs squeeze around his hips as he used the tips of his fingers to guide his still hard cock back into your warmth.

“Fuck! S-satoru what are you doing?” you panicked as painful pleasure started wracking your body, trying to jerk and jolt away from the stimulation.

“J-jus came ‘m s-sensitiveee.” you whined, fat tears rolling down your face as he started a rough pace, fucking his cock into your gspot, making your words break up when you spoke.

“Cuming just once isn’t enough for my pretty babyyy, you deserve more than that,” abandoning the vibrator for a second to push your thighs against your head, and placing your ankles over his shoulders as he put you in a mean mating press.

“C-cant t-take it.” you voiced in between thrusts, pussy spasming uncontrollably around his fat cock. Once gojo had manhandled you where he wanted you, he placed the bullet back on your puffy clit, making you scream out.

You were feeling so overwhelmed, thighs burning from being pushed to the limits in flexibility, feeling his weight crush you while he bullied his cock into your drenched walls, and the toy? You swore this would be the night gojo killed you during sex.

“Just let yourself feel it baby, relax your body for me let me do allll the work.” he spoke, trying to reassure you as he dropped his gaze to where the two of you were connected, loud squelches emitting from him fucking into you at how wet you were, gojo feeling lightheaded seeing the thick ring of cum at the base of his dick.

Without warning he felt you squeeze around his length impossibly tight, feeling something spray against his abdomen, realizing you were squirting again.

“Yeaahhhh fuck, that’s what I wanted to see.” He brought back his hips before slamming them into you harder, feeling impossibly aroused seeing this new orgasm crash over you a second time.

Your moans and protests were incoherent at this point, tears and drool covering your face as he fucked you through another intense high.

Satoru started to feel himself reach his peak again but he needed to see that one more time before he allowed himself release.

“Good girl, gooooood fucking girl.” he praised at your lack of resistance when your body went lax against him.

You gave up on fighting the pleasure, really letting your brain go numb at the feeling of, well, everything. There was so much going on, his lips would be on your neck one second, tongue in your mouth the next, babbling some dirty talk you were too fucked out to comprehend.

The vibrator was being slid all over your folds with no rhythm, but it felt so fucking good.

“Cmon you can do it, one more time baby just one more time, need to feel you squirt around me, please.” he begged.

Gojo was fucking you both stupid at this point, he was drooling, feeling so fucking pussydrunk as he mindlessly thrusted his cock in and out of your wetness.

Quickly and sloppily sliding the bullet over your clit one last time before he heard you whimper out a warning of your orgasm, impressed you were still able to form words at this point.

His jaw dropped as he came with you, electricity zapping down his spine feeling you gush around him while he stuffed you full, his moans were so needy and high pitched, overstimulating himself by rolling his hips into yours, making sure your cunt swallowed every drop of his cum.

“F-fuck, loveyousomuch.” he slurred, dropping his entire weight against your folded body, making your tendons scream at the stretch.

“S-satoru..hurts.” you voiced, successfully getting him to lean back, letting your legs drop onto the sheets, thighs and toes tingling when the blood started to circulate through them again.

“God you’re fucking amazing, hope u felt as good as I did.” He murmured into your chest.

“are u kidding? almost died.” you whispered, brain still tingling while you gained your braincells back slowly.

He wrapped his strong arms around your body, keeping his softening cock snug inside you, his chest pressed against your was firmly.

You both relished in the feeling for awhile, intertwining your legs and feet together against the bed, wanting to feel this intamacy for a little longer before you ultimately had to clean up.

“So…think club guy could make you cum harder than that?” he spoke into your breasts.

Using your arms to gather all of the strength you had left, placing your sweaty hands on his cheeks, making him raise his head to look up at you, “Satoru,” you chastised, “don’t ruin this.” falling into a fit of giggles when he groaned in defeat, sending vibrations through your lungs.

[ghast1yghosts]

race car driver steve and pit crew eddie

flirting during pit stops. always seems like it’s going to lead somewhere but never does. eventually, as he’s heading to the track, steve tells eddie he’ll take him out *when* he wins. not if.

—

“she handles fine”

“can’t say the same thing about me”

“yeah?”

“hm”

“i think i could handle you”

“you say that to all the crew?”

“just the pretty ones”

—

“all oiled up and ready to go?”

“always for you harrington.

.. oh you mean the car”

“yeah, munson—the car. i already make enough pit stops as is.”

—

“we have a problem.”

“what? why what’s wrong??”

“you didn’t say anything about my outfit”

“…

turn around for me.

it makes your rear view look, *fantastic*”

“call my ass ‘my rear view’ again-“

“HEY! you ASKED THIS TIME”

“YEAH. *THIS TIME*”

—

“that engine isn’t the only thing i’m good at revving up.”

“…is that- are you-“

*shrug*

“UGH. i hate that that worked. that was TERRIBLE.”

“:)”

see, when steve finally gets the guts to actually commit to being serious, to genuinely asking eddie out afterwards, win or not, it goes a little something like this…

“Racers, please make your way to the start line.”

“Eddie?” He walks over as Steve pushes his helmet over his head, flattening his coiffed hair.

“Yeah?”

“After this race, when I win,” Oh, oh, is this going where he thinks it’s going? Is this Steve finally taking a chance on this grease rat? Surely n- “Would you let me take you out for dinner…?”

Eddie blinks at him, staring at his honey-brown eyes boring into him, from the tiny opening in his helmet.

“Yes,” his brain seems to reboot and gather enough coherence to spit out an answer, “Yeah, yes, please.” He can tell Steve smiles at him from the way the corners of his eyes crinkle. “I’d like that.”

“Cool,” Steve snaps his chin strap and tightens it. As he goes to slip on his gloves, Eddie walks up to him. He grabs onto the strap and tightens it himself just to make sure.

“Good luck,” he says, gripping Steve’s shoulder for a moment.

“Don’t need it, but thanks,” playfully snarky, he bends and gets into the car. Eddie laughs at the antics and backs up further into the pit, matching Steve’s cute little wave before he drives away.

For the first time in a long time, Eddie couldn’t care less about winning. He can’t wait for this to be over; the real prize is a long-awaited date.

But, until then, it’s game time.

—

Watching the screen in the pit till the racers turn the corner and come into view. Eddie keeps a close eye on his car—Steve’s kept good pacing most of the leg, leading a few laps, too. He’s due back for a stop soon, but until he can get out of the way of the other racers, they’re too packed for him to make any sort of maneuver. When those cars get like that, Eddie feels like he’s on the edge of a freefall. Not actually, because nothing ever happens, but it feels like something will. Every time.

Besides the scars and a dusty jumpsuit somewhere, that’s the only thing that sticks around from Eddie’s crash. Because that’s what it was, a crash. And a bad one. A side hit that jerked him into another, airborne before rolling, and rolling, and rolling. Getting pulled out, dazed and bleeding, while flames and sirens roared in his ears.

And although there’s more protection and safety precautions now, it still doesn’t make that night any better.

Steve makes another lap. He’s still boxed in close—extremely close. It’s a recipe for disaster, and they all know it.

Eddie’s eyes dart to the pack of cars crossing into his field of vision, and he sees it, someone side hits someone. Someone jerks–and clips 86.

It happens in slow motion. Like becoming untethered—realizing, yeah, you’re in freefall. The world feels like it’s moving at 1/8th the pace. Steve flies over the other drivers and into the catch fences.

Eddie barely registers he’s already moving into the pit track.

86 spins out, absolutely streded to the barebones. Slowing only to get hit again and into the run-off.

“STEVE!” Eddie’s out, running full speed to the remaining inners of the car. Static and ringing fills his ears. He can feel the way his heart is threating to fucking beat out of his goddamn chest. A mantra of “nononononono. not again. not to him,” screaming in his head.

For a speedway packed with people and maxed out speakers, it’s eerily quiet to him. Everything falling away, feeling sureal, like this is some fucked up nightmare—till he gets his hand on the smoking car. Noise comes rushing back all at once, too loud.

“STEVE!” voice gone hoarse, he yells out into the metal. He can see his vision blurring with tears, fear creeping onto him a tenfold. Eddie ducks down and looks into the smashed up window.

“I’m here!” It’s muffled, but at least he can see the dark tracksuit as the source. Eddie frantically reaches for Steve’s hand, and when he gets it clasped in his own, he tugs.

“I’m okay.” A feeble attempt to reassure him, he’ll believe those words from Steve Harrington when he sees it for himself.

Steve coughs as he puts his other hand on the edge of the door and tries to reef himself out. And Eddie tries to help out the best he can. About halfway out, Steve shifts and lets go.

Logically—well, not logically actually, Eddie’s acting on pure adrenaline at this point, all logic out the window—Steve’s just getting his hands under him rather than over, more leverage that way. But Eddie needs. to. get. him. out. of the car that’s currently on fucking fire.

As soon as Steve starts moving again, Eddie’s already wrapped his arms around his chest and is pulling him the rest of the way out. He kneels in front of him and tries to unclasp the strap. Hands so shaky, he can barely get his fingers to push down before gloved hands push them away. While he attempts to help Steve yank his helmet off, it’s feeble. That golden hair flops out, and the helmet gets tossed to the side; Eddie roams his hands over Steve’s face, looking for any visible damage.

Suddenly, warm hands circle his wrists, and Steve makes him meet his eyes.

The world comes bursting back in.

“-ddie? Hey? I’m okay. I’m okay. I promise, I’m okay-“

His face is wet. He’s practically in Steve’s lap, too. One of those hands drop his wrist and cup the back of head.

“Eddie. I’m okay,” Steve says. God, the sound that punches it’s way out of his chest sounds inhuman even in his ears.

There, a few feet away from the pile of rubble, Eddie engulfs Steve in his arms, tucking his face into the neck of old leather. He can feel Steve finally let go of him to give the cameras and the crew that surrounds them, a one handed thumbs up.

Eddie can’t help let out a soft laugh with Steve at the collective sigh of relief. He gets that arm wrapped back around him, giving him a tight squeeze. Steve ducks his face over to talk into his ear, “I’m okay. I’ll have a hell of a bruise no doubt, but I promise I’m okay.”

“Fucking better be,” Eddie mutters as he pulls away, hastily wiping his face. Steve huffs at him.

“Are *you* okay?”

“You did not just ask me that.” Eddie pushes himself off the man, offering Steve his hands and hoisting him up, too. He tests his footing, and it's shaky–something is definitely hurting.

“Eddie…” The fucker has the audacity to turn those sad down-turned puppy eyes on him. Steve knows how bad his wreak was, and it fits him too, to care more about Eddie than himself.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m standing, aren’t I?” Steve gestures a bit, Medic in his ear asking him to follow her. Because they’re still in the middle of the run-off, the game paused till Steve gets the okay, and they continue without him anyway.

“Does that sound reassuring to you?” Eddie crosses his arms.

“Hey-“ Steve shrugs, “-couldn’t miss our date, right?”

And, honest to god, Eddie would throttle him right now. But he can’t.

So, he does the next best thing.

Eddie Munson, pit crew of 86 and crash survivor, crosses the couple steps between him and Steve Harrington, current 86 racer and, hopefully, his boyfriend, and kisses him.

“I’m holding you to that.”

Steve smiles wide and pivots with his hand out for Eddie to take. And Eddie does.

They start following the Medic, but Steve turns around and flashes his goofy grin again, giving everyone in the stadium a thumbs-up.

Eddie laughs as the crowd roars.

[p0orbaby]

Reader being Beth Mead’s little sister & is dating Leah. Beth finding them in a compromising position/situation (shagging) 🤣🤣 feel like this would make a funny story

-

Beth has always been overprotective. It’s in her nature, like her knack for nutmegging defenders or her inexplicable hatred of pineapple on pizza. Growing up, you couldn’t so much as look at someone without Beth launching into her overbearing big-sister routine: “Who’s that? What do they want? Do I need to have a word?”

So naturally, when you start dating Leah Williamson—her teammate and captain of England—you make a pact with her to keep it under wraps for a bit. Just until Beth gets used to the idea.

That was six months ago.

Which explains why you’re currently in Beth’s spare room, shirt on the floor, Leah’s hair sticking to her face, and your brain short-circuiting as the door slams open.

“What the actual fuck?” Beth’s voice slices through the air like a referee’s whistle.

“Beth!” you shriek, scrambling for the duvet, which is already half-tangled around Leah.

“Mead-o,” Leah starts, holding up her hands like she’s negotiating a hostage situation, except she’s also very much topless. “I can explain—”

“Explain what?!” Beth snaps, her face a mix of outrage and something dangerously close to amusement. “Why you’re shagging my little sister in my house?”

“This isn’t—” you start, but you’re not even sure where that sentence is going.

“This isn’t what?” Beth interrupts, arms crossed, one eyebrow arched in that infuriatingly smug way she’s perfected over the years. “What it looks like? Because it looks like my friend is banging my sister on my spare bed”

Leah winces. “Don’t say ‘banging’”

“Sorry. Would you prefer I say ‘fornicating’? ‘Getting it on’? ‘Knocking boots’?”

“Beth!” you yell, throwing a pillow at her, which she bats away with infuriating ease.

The room falls into a horrifically awkward silence. You can hear Leah’s breathing beside you, shallow and uneven, and somewhere in the distance, the hum of Beth’s washing machine hitting its spin cycle.

“How long?” Beth finally asks, her tone softer now but no less accusatory.

“Six months,” Leah admits, sitting up and grabbing her shirt from the floor. “We were going to tell you—”

“Oh, were you?” Beth cuts her off, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Before or after I walked in on this absolute nightmare?”

“Can you not call my love life a nightmare?” you snap, pulling on your own hoodie.

“Baby, it’s her love life now too,” Leah mutters under her breath, which earns her a withering glare from Beth.

Beth sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose like she’s trying to summon the strength not to kill either of you. “This is mental. Fucking mental”

“Beth, come on,” you say, standing up and crossing the room to her. “It’s not like we planned for you to walk in on us”

“Oh, that makes it better, does it?” Beth fires back, but her tone is losing its edge.

Leah stands, hands stuffed in her pockets, looking more sheepish than you’ve ever seen her. “Beth, look. I know this is… not ideal. But I love her. And I would never hurt her. You know that”

Beth stares at Leah for what feels like an eternity, then at you, then back at Leah. Finally, she sighs. “Fine. But if I hear anything—”

“You won’t,” you both say in unison.

Beth shakes her head, muttering something about needing a drink, and leaves the room.

As the door closes, you collapse back onto the bed, groaning. “Well, that went well”

Leah snorts, climbing in beside you. “Could’ve been worse”

“How?”

“She could’ve filmed it for blackmail.”

You shove her, but you’re laughing now, the tension broken.

Later, when you’re all sitting around the kitchen table, Beth pours herself a very large glass of wine and declares, “For the record, I still think this is weird”

“Noted,” Leah says, raising her tea in mock salute.

“And don’t think this means I’m going easy on you at training,” Beth adds, pointing at Leah with a fork.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Leah replies, grinning.

And as deranged and mortifying as the whole thing was, you can’t help but feel relieved. Because if Beth didn’t truly care, she wouldn’t be sitting here, threatening Leah with a fork.

[stunie]

SCARY BOYFRIEND EX PRIVILEGES! ❤︎ — Endo Yamato x f!reader ﾉ Sfw ﾉ Cw harassment (not from Endo) ﾉ My response to:

ANON’S ASK — Random thought but what the wind breaker boys protect you in spite of being your ex. Whether it was a mutual, [etc], uncertain, or bittersweet break up is up to you.

Other warnings: one mention of reader typically wearing makeup

As weird as it sounds, you’re not entirely sure if you and Endo have ever officially broken up. Dating through high school was one thing, but keeping the relationship strong after attending different universities was another.

At the very least, you’re 90% sure the relationship died, although you don’t remember exactly when the two of you stopped talking. After you switched your phone number following your first semester at university, you hadn’t even bothered to tell him. You don’t remember why you didn’t bother to either.

Everything is weird now.

Life has been entirely different without him. There’s one less free pocket in your bag now that you’ve started carrying pepper spray with you. You wear your headphones in one ear at a time, and your volume isn’t on full blast anymore.

You actually look where you’re going, and you pay attention to the time— take a mental note that it starts getting dark earlier at this point in the year.

Even with the precautions you’ve learned during your time at university, this type of thing would always be out of your control. How in the world did you get singled out wearing your pajamas and no makeup?

Life wasn’t being fair to you.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing here all alone?”

“Midterms.” You narrow your eyes to the best of your ability, balling your hands into little fists to mask how they’ve started to tremble. “I’m meeting up with some friends now.”

You used to be able to just say “I have a boyfriend.”

You also used to be walked home, so this wouldn’t have happened in the first place. You’re sure that if Endo saw the way you are now, he’d be making a comment by now. Something along the lines of “gonna hurt your hands if you throw a punch with your fists like that, sweet thing.”

Nothing is fair. Why is it now that you start missing him for the first time in years? The feeling comes a little too easily for a relationship that faded into nothing, but you’re too scared to kick yourself in the shin right now.

“That so?” The man in front of you laughs when your fight or flight finally starts to kick in. You take a couple of steps backward, and your frame is suddenly a lot smaller compared to his. How easy. “Where are these friends of yours? Can’t believe you’re out here all by yourself..”

“T-they have my location, y’know.”

There’s the stutter that always gives you away.

He laughs at this, and you can feel yourself breaking into a cold sweat. Keep your words steady. Ignore the way your heart rate is spiking. Do absolutely anything to avoid letting him know that you’re scared out of your mind.

It doesn’t work at all. “They won’t know if you don’t have your phone on you, will they?”

All the words you know seem to slip out of your brain, and your face feels painfully hot. “U-um…”

“You’re exactly my type. It’s a compliment… I’m being nice, so just come with me. You won’t regret it— I’ll make it worth your time.”

It doesn’t like sound an offer, and it doesn’t sound like a suggestion either. Your body freezes against your will, and he catches onto this pretty fast. The pepper spray in your bag seems too far away for you to even consider, and you’ve never felt so helpless in your life.

“Yeah? That sound good?” He moves to close the distance between the two of you with a grin, reaching out to grab your wrist. Your eyes slam shut, lips trembling even when you try to say something to protest. “Damn… you’re so docile for such a pretty girl. Usually, they’d be a bitch, but you—”

“How mean.” Your eyes shoot open when you’re suddenly tugged backward, gasping when your back roughly collides with someone’s chest. “I was waiting all alone. What’s my girl doing over here with you?”

The tattooed arms that drape themselves over your shoulders don’t look familiar at first glance, but the muscles and his scent are. Painfully familiar, as a matter of fact. They’re the same arms you used to cling onto- and you always used to wrap your fingers around his bicep and rest your head on his shoulder.

He loved that.

It all registers in your head as soon as he puts his weight on you, head right beside yours and you feel his hair tickle your neck. He gives the man in front of you an unamused look before turning to you.

“M-me?” You want to dig a hole and stay there for eternity after hearing just how shaky your voice comes out. Endo’s so close that you could simply turn your head to the side and you’d be kissing him.

He laughs, and you feel your face heat up again. Only this time, there’s a gentle fluttering of your heart that comes with it instead. “Yeah, you. What? Did you think I was talking to the loser? I wouldn’t dream of it.”

The way you move to latch onto his arm in an instant is all he needs to confirm that your feelings haven’t changed. The man in front of you doesn’t speak— he can’t seem to move either. Your boyfriend has made quite the name for himself, but you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?

To you, he’s your bodyguard— and more, of course, but maybe you’d be honest and tell him about that another time. But to that guy, he’s pure danger. The way Endo looks over his shoulder to give him one last glance is already enough to have his knees buckling.

[lurochar]

Well-Fed

It isn't wise to harass Alastor's assistant. A man learns this the hard way.

Human Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Violence, unknowing cannibalism

--

What a pleasant night.

“F-fuck, please – what do you want?! I’ll… I’ll do anything!” The man pleaded, sniveling as he tried to crawl back, “J-just don’t kill me!”

What lovely begging.

Alastor hummed, eyeing the fallen man as he wondered in which way he should slaughter him that would best satisfy him and his current needs.

Should he just blow the man’s brain out? It’s not like he needed his head for anything – nothing really too edible there. It always made such a mess.

Maybe cut the man’s throat and make it a quick one? It always did give him a thrill to watch the life fade from one’s eyes and the absolute terror on their faces when there was nothing to be done. 

Possibly chop the man’s limbs off and watch him slowly bleed to death? He would probably put up too much of a fight and ruin too much of his meat and it would take far too long.

“Do you remember me?” Alastor asked, causing the man’s eyes to finally look at his face rather than the rifle in hand, “Or actually, do you remember the woman at the radio station earlier today?”

“Y-yeah, ‘course I remember you!” The man simpered, as if sucking up would actually save his life, “You’re Alastor Hartfelt, right? That radio host who’s the talk of the town right now?” His face twitched, “So, why you doing this?! Don’t fucking tell me…!” His eyes widened when he finally figured it out.

He wasn’t getting out of here alive.

“I asked, ‘do you remember the woman at the radio station earlier today’?” Alastor didn’t flinch in the least as he pulled his axe from the holster at his hip, swinging it down in a smooth motion, and easily severing the man’s hand.

He was screaming now, of course, in complete shock at the brutal action and he tried to scramble to his feet to run for his life, but Alastor already had his rifle at the ready, easily shooting him in the foot before he could do anything.

“I’d rather not repeat myself for a third time,” Alastor looked on in a bit of distaste when the man vomited, heaving and twitching around in agony. “It is why you are here, after all.”

The man didn’t answer or didn’t even hear him as he curled up into a sad little ball, causing Alastor to sigh in slight disappointment that his hunt was already over, but preparing meat took time and he had already invited you over to dinner the next night, so it was fine.

“Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?” Alastor knew he was talking to himself at this point as he knelt down as he reached for his knife from his belt, “I’d rather you not treat women like objects that you can use whenever you feel like it. Far too many men are like this. Imagine how Y/N felt when you cornered her in my radio station and groped her like a mindless animal? Perhaps as helpless as you are now? In any case, I do not tolerate any disrespect of such kind, especially with my lovely little assistant.”

He was rambling, he knew, he always did get like this when it came to you and your wellbeing.

“I’ve spent too much time on you,” Alastor tightened his grip on his knife, “I have a meal to prepare. I do hope you taste better than you look, my good chum.”

He hoped you liked Jambalaya.

–

“This is amazing!”

Alastor smiled, feeling absolutely pleased at your joyful expression as you took a bite of his cooking, clearly delighting in the flavour, “It’s my mother’s recipe, you see.” His eyes flashed, a dark satisfaction building up in him, “I’m glad you like it. I thought the meat might have been of too low quality.”

“No, no!” You went to reassure him, “I’m nothing fancy!” You eagerly took another bite. “You are a very good cook. Your mother must have taught you well. She must be very proud.”

“I would like to think so.” Alastor’s smile softened briefly at the thought, “I do try to be nothing less than a true gentleman. I believe my mother would have liked you very much so. I would like to share more of her recipes with you, if I may be so bold to ask?”

You flushed, looking down at your food before peering back up to Alastor with a shy smile, “I would like that too.” You did not recognize the mania behind Alastor’s eyes as you continued to eat his cooking.

“I’ll keep you well-fed, my dear.”

[ghostfacd]

WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW. | LH43

pairing: fratboy!luke x fem!reader

summary: you finally break the news to your boyfriend about what’s been going on

warnings: pregnancy, sexual implications, I think that’s it ??

au masterlist

You know that feeling when you just know you’re inlove? When nothing else around matters, when all you can hear is the laugh of that person — and your own laughter — and when bad things, just for a moment, disappear completely.

Luke Hughes felt that about you. Y/N James, or he preferred it — Lovie, because you were the love of his life.

His frat brothers would probably snicker at Luke if they had took a look into his brain and thoughts, but he could care less. Sure, they were very close to one another, but his frat brothers had absolutely no idea what love was. They knew the concept, but they slept with girls faster than they’d change their clothes.

Luke wasn’t about that life, he wanted more, he wanted someone who he’d actually spend nights talking to about the future, not just someone who could warm his bed at night.

“Luke,” you sniffle, watching the boy in front of you bring his vision back to focus. “Are you mad?”

Luke blinks. He had almost forgotten where he was — in your dorm, holding onto your shaking hands. Just moments earlier, you had blurted out a sentence that made his jaw drop.

“I’m pregnant.”

Unlike his frat brothers who would automatically question the girl if the baby was even his; Luke knew down to his core. You were loyal, and so was he, so it didn’t take much braincells to know that the baby was most definitely his.

“Mad? Lovie, I could never be mad at you.” His heart breaks at your distressed state, bringing your head towards him to place a kiss on. “I’d never be mad at something that we both caused. It wasn’t just you, it was me as well.”

You let out a small sob, shaking your head as you rested it deeper into Luke’s chest. You were stressed, being a sophomore in college while also raising a baby didn’t seem so ideal. Plus, Luke being part of a fraternity and student athlete meant he was going to be busy for most of the time

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” you say. “We should’ve been more careful.”

“I know,” Luke coos, rubbing your back comfortingly.

He remembered the date it possibly could’ve happened on. Him and you had quite a bit to drink at a party his fraternity was hosting, and before the two of you knew it, you had ended up in his room, clothes discarded on the floor.

Luke vaguely remembers reaching for his bedside stool, where he usually kept his condoms. Only this time, it’s empty. One of his frat brothers, Nick, had asked to have a few just a day earlier.

“It’s fine,” you reassured him. “I’ll take Plan B.”

Clearly, that didn’t work. And you had a perfect two lined pregnancy test to prove it.

“Well,” Luke lets out a breathy exhale. “Luckily, baby Hughes will have 2 uncles that will spoil them to death.”

You giggle at that, imagining a little you and Luke running around the house while Quinn and Jack chased them.

“We’ll be okay,” Luke reassures you.

“And if we won’t?”

“That’s for me to worry about,” the brunette boy lets out a laugh. “All you need to worry about now is keeping baby Hughes healthy.”

You roll your eyes jokingly, nodding as you leaned into the comfort of his touch.

[earlysunshines]

after hours

myoui mina x fem!reader ; fluff

synopsis: what happens after work is the reason you power through it all 

warnings: basically none ; meeting mina's parents ; brain rotting fluff (my roots!! my specialty) ; reader is head over heels for mina ; IM head over heels ; not proofread

a/n: i'm extremely late for her bday, hopefully this makes up for it? enjoy

!!! cont/side story of "slow dancing"!! ( i suggest you read it first :-P ) 

“any questions, comments, remarks?” you ask, eyeing every man in the room.  

they sit in their seats, teeth clenched and posture straight as you speak. they watch you place your hands on the table and lean over, feeling smaller as you do so.  

a shake of all seven heads leads to a forced smile on your lips, then you clap your hands together.  

“great, we’ll wrap things up with mina’s final additions and remarks. the profits have been booming.” you finally say before mina takes the spotlight. 

she goes on for less than three minutes, earning raised brows from surprise and approving nods from all the men before she dismisses them. they’re all quick to leave, they’ve been quite wary since your last reprimanding when one of the shareholders decided to second guess your — mostly mina’s —success. 

as soon as they leave, you make sure there’s no one to intrude. mina is placing papers in her folder, then hums in surprise when she feels a hand on her chin and lips on her own. 

she sinks into the kiss, pressing deeper into you as her hand softly lands on your forearm.  

you pull away, grinning. mina rolls her eyes and punches your shoulder.  

“someone could’ve seen us.” 

“i’m pretty sure they all know.” you giggle, turning over to grab the laptop plugged into the hdmi. “they’re all just scared of us. mostly you though, boss.” 

“you’re so annoying when you call me that.” 

“can i kiss you to make up for it?” you ask, smirking. 

mina scoffs, but immediately she’s walking over and messing up your hair before pecking your lips quickly. “you’re an idiot.” 

“yeah, an idiot that’s asking to grab some dinner with you tonight?” 

she pushes the folder in her hand against your chest, silently making you carry it for her before responding,  

“have you forgotten about our dinner plans already? my parents have reservations with us, remember?” 

“that’s today?” 

“tonight, and you’re my ride there.” 

mina turns over and heads out the door, leaving you with a jolt of realization—you're meeting her parents for the first time, tonight, in a few hours. the reminder hits you like a ton of bricks, and suddenly, nerves start to gnaw at your insides. you had completely forgotten about the upcoming meeting, but you have to at least try to convince yourself that it won’t go terrible. 

when mina returns to your shared office, she greets you with a devious smile, fully aware that she's shaken you up. despite feeling a pang of guilt for rattling your nerves, she can't help but find it amusing to see you all serious and focused. and maybe – just maybe – mina is a little evil for thinking this, but you look absolutely adorable like that.  

you're cleaning up your workspace, tucking papers back into folders and it’s clear that something clouds your mind. mina walks over to you while you finish up something on your laptop, then places a kiss on the top of your head. 

“you’re stressed.” 

“a little.” 

mina laughs softly. “a lot, don’t lie to me.” 

“i completely forgot, i thought next friday.” 

she stands next to you and runs a hand through your hair, sliding her hand down to your cheek. you suconciously lean into her touch, pouting lightly. 

“you’ll be fine. my parents are wonderful.” 

now you’re smiling a little, just a little less nervous now. turning into her hand, you kiss it softly before leaning back into your office chair. 

“i’m sure.” it comes out as almost a whisper, “still, i'm just nervous.” 

she leans down, her lips gently meeting yours, and you feel a surge of warmth spread through you. her fingers graze your neck as she kisses you, which nearly melts you. your nerves seem to dissolve into nothing, surrendering completely to mina.  

after pulling away, she presses a kiss to your forehead. “you shouldn’t be. besides, we’re just going out to some diner, nothing too fancy.” 

“i’ll trust you on that, boss.” you mutter, earning a roll of eyes and a flick to your forehead. 

-- 

the two of you go back home to change, and soon after you’re back in your car to go pick up mina. 

mina had texted you to wear something casual, and it sparked a whole crisis of indecision about what was appropriate. she couldn't help but smile upon seeing the flurry of texts from you, feeling a twinge of guilt for how nervous you were—still are—before sending a picture of what she’s wearing. 

mina: attachment: 1 image. 

you pause at the image because woah, just woah is all you can really think. you find yourself sitting on the edge of your bed, gazing at mina's reflection in the mirror as she stands there, holding the phone. she's wearing something simple, really casual, actually, just a t-shirt and jeans, but still, she looks wonderful. 

you: oh, so you actually meant simple 

mina: y/n, what else would i mean 

you: :-( 

you: i'm over thinking things 

you: a sweater and pleated pants are okay, right? 

mina: i'm not going to answer that 

you: mina please 

mina: just go with what you think is right 

you groan after reading her text, flopping down onto your bed and staring at your ceiling before picking your phone back up.  

you: you’re evil 

on your bed, you’re huffing dramatically as you look at the picture she had sent earlier. you decide that you can’t actually be mad at her. you can’t see mina, but she’s grinning at her phone, rolling her eyes at the text you had just sent. 

you: evil and beautiful 

mina giggles at the phone, smiling to herself. 

mina: pick me up in ten? 

you: yes lovely 

-- 

you're parked outside mina’s place, and right as you’re about to call her, you see her emerge from the door and look for your car. rolling your windows down catches her attention and the two of you smile at each other at the same time. 

she walks over and opens the door, sitting in the passengers side. 

the picture she sent had you completely enamored but seeing her in person was a whole different level. the simple t-shirt under her zip up, the navy wide-legged jeans—and that smile of hers? it was absolutely priceless. how pretty. 

“ready to go?” you ask. 

she buckles her seatbelt before responding, “i should be the one asking you that.” 

rolling your eyes, you shift the stick and start to drive to the restaurant mina has typed into your phone. once the route is visible on the screen of your car, it shows that it’s only ten minutes away. still not enough time to compose yourself, but oh well. 

-- 

as you reach the place, you're struck by how casual and simple it is. the first time mina had even mentioned her parents, scenarios of meeting them ran through your head. you had expected to meet mina's parents somewhere fancier in all of them, but the simplicity of the diner setting actually makes you feel more at ease.  

after you park, mina places a comforting hand on yours. as she looks at you, it's with an expression that makes you feel like you're her rock and she's the luckiest person in the world. her touch on your cheek is always soothing, her soft fingers grazing your cheekbone, calming your nerves instantly. then, with a reassuring smile, she says, "you'll be fine." and somehow, with her by your side, you believe her. of course you do when she’s looking at you like that. 

“thanks.” 

she leans in and kisses you, something she loves to do when she can’t really conjure up any words to describe what she’s trying to convey. it's enough to get the message across, and you’re forever grateful. 

minutes later, you find yourself holding mina's hand, her thumb gently rubbing against your skin in a subtle gesture of comfort. together, you approach the man at the front counter and request a table for four. soon, you're led to a table outside, where the weather is perfect and you’re able to take in the view of the environment as you wait.  

just as you begin to think you have a moment to compose yourself, mina's phone rings, and she receives a call from her mom. the conversation is short, but waht you catch from what she says during the call tells you that her parents have arrived and are searching for your table. panic flutters in your chest as you realize that they’re here, you’re meeting them soon—now. 

mina kisses your cheek quickly, it makes you feel a little better, even if your heart beat stays beating a little quick. 

seconds later, mina turns her head and stands up, you watch her smile at the woman who walks out the door. 

you feel obligated to stand too, following mina as she walks towards her mom and dad. mina hugs her mom tightly, their smiles mirroring each other's, both gummy and wide. then, it's her dad's turn. he gives mina a comforting hug, planting a gentle kiss on the side of her head, and you can't help but feel a swell of warmth, smiling yourself. 

they greet her quickly before looking at you, which makes you tense up a bit. her mom looks at you, still smiling as she examines, taking in your presence. 

“you must be y/n?” you nod in response, smiling respectfully. 

“yes. it’s really nice to meet you.” 

her mom tilts her head, staying silent for about three seconds – grueling, really, the worst, most nerve-racking three seconds of your life probably – before speaking again. 

“gosh, you’re beatiful. mina wasn’t lying, i mean she’s shown me a brief picture but wow honey, you’re adorable.” her mom says before pulling you in for a hug.  

you freeze up a bit before reciprocating, smiling even bigger.  

once her mom compliments you a couple more times, you turn towards her dad. he has a friendly face, a small smile gracing his aged features. he simply puts his hand out, which you shake, and then pulls you in for a small hug. 

he looks at you dearly after that, smiling bigger. “thanks for making our daughter happy, she mentions you a lot.” 

you turn to mina, cheeks dusted pink. “is that true?” you ask teasingly, earning a small punch to your shoulder. “sorry.” 

the small interaction earns a giggle from her parents, they look at each other with proud smiles. 

back at your table, menus spread out in front of you, you all decide over what to order. when the waiter arrives and asks about drinks, and knowing mina is quite timid, you place the orders: a sprite for herself, a sweet tea for you and her mom, and a water for her dad.  

when the waiter leaves, her dad begins the conversation. 

“so you’re her assistant?” 

your head perks up from the menu. “oh, yes.” 

“and how’s working with my daughter? she’s stubborn sometimes.” 

you giggle lightly before looking at mina, then back to her dad. “i mean, i wasn’t used to such high position and--” eyeing mina, you continue, “vast workload, but overtime working became great. i think we make a great team, she’s really good with handling everything.” 

her dad smiles. “that’s my girl.” 

the waiter returns with your drinks, setting them down on the table before retrieving a notepad. he asks if you're all ready to order, and you confirm that you are. you opt for a chicken sandwich and fries, while mina chooses a cheeseburger. her mom orders tenders, and her dad selects a deluxe sandwich. as for appetizers, you decide on some onion rings and salads for everyone to share.  

as you all dive into some small talk, mina's parents ask simple questions about you—like if you have any siblings, your hobbies, and your aspirations. you're glad to find that they're genuinely interested in getting to know you, and talking with them isn't as difficult as you had feared. in fact, the conversation flows nicely, and the best part is hearing some small stories from mina's earlier life. you share laughter with her parents, and you can't help but notice how it makes mina all flustered and blushy in return.  

moments later, mina excuses herself to the restroom, catching you offguard. you watch her get up and walk back inside the building, and now you’re left with the myoui’s alone. 

there's a short silence as you sit there, trying to find out how to keep the conversation you had going before mina left. her mom beats you to it. 

“you’re wonderful y/n, really.” she says, placing her hand on yours. “mina adores you.” 

smiling, you respond, “i’m glad. i adore her too, twice as much probably.” 

her dad chuckles, looking at you with narrowed eyes. “we’re glad to hear. mina calls us every week and most—actually, all of the conversations have included you.” 

“really?” you ask, feeling your cheeks warm. her dad nods and you grin. “that’s great to hear.” 

“mina used to complain about work a lot, it worried us.” her mom starts, “and then she mentioned this new assistant that irriated her, but then a week or two later she’d call back saying you were like a gift from heaven.” 

the heat on your cheeks intensifies as you process the words. "really?" you question, genuinely surprised. as far as you remember, mina had been distant and pretty (very) cold towards you for at least a month before gradually warming up. the thought that she had been gushing to her parents about you so quickly, already enamored despite her earlier act of annoyance, flatters you, makes you fall deeper in love honestly.  

“yeah, it takes time for her to warm up.” her mom explains, laughing. “she went from stressing to talking about you whenever work was mentioned, and now that i get to meet you in person—it’s understandable that she’s grown fond of you.” 

you're speechless for a moment, trying to process all of this new information that might just make your heart burst. her parents look at each other and grin before you catch mina in the corner of your eye, walking back towards the table and sitting down. 

“everything alright?” mina asks, looking at your features etched into surprise. 

“yeah, perfect.” you mumble, looking at her with a warm smile. 

-- 

dinner goes well, it’s amazing.  

the food was truly flawless; your chicken sandwich was perfectly crisp, with the mayonnaise, lettuce, and soft bread complementing each other perfectly. judging by the satisfied expressions around the table, it seemed like everyone's meal was cooked to perfection. as you all ate, the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the scene and providing a pretty backdrop to your meal and conversation. 

throughout the evening, you learned so much about mina from her parents, gaining insights and anecdotes that you hadn't heard before. the smiles on their faces and the small, proud, and appreciative glances they exchanged with each other hinted that everything was more than alright—it was wonderful. in that moment, surrounded by good food, good company, and a beautiful sunset, you couldn't help but feel grateful for this, for her appreciative parents, and simply for mina. 

after finishing your meals, you all decide to linger a bit longer, savoring each other's company. the moon was out now, casting a soft glow over the scene. eventually, mina's dad decides to call it an evening, putting his arm around her mom in a gesture of affection.  

“alright, we should get going soon.” he says, fishing for his wallet with the other hand. “we’ve got to drive fourty-five minutes to get back to our place.” 

you wave your hand and shake your head, dismissing him. “no, stop, i've got it, really.” 

“no, it’s fine, really. let me pay for my daughter and her wonderful girlfriend.” 

“mr. myoui, really, please. i've got it.” 

“are you really arguing with your girlfriends dad?” he asks, his tone is playful. he raises a brow, looking at you dead in the eye. 

“if it means getting the bill instead, then yes.” you challenge, earning a chuckle from him. 

“i like you a lot, y/n.” he says, “you’re perfect for my daughter, but please, let me get it.” 

before you can even argue, mina places her card down quickly and calls over a waiter. you and her dad exchange puzzled frowns, both of you clearly surprised by her sudden decision. mina and her mom share a laugh at the identical expressions on your faces. 

“mina!” you groan, “why would you--” 

mina places her hand on the crook of your neck. “you two are so stubborn sometimes.” she says, then looks at her mom. “it’s always like this, fighting for the bill. you and my dad are so stubborn when it comes to this.” 

her dad laughs and adds a last remark, “take care of my daughter, lots of care.” 

-- 

mina's mom and dad give you hugs, muttering thankful comments and praises before departing. 

you and mina walk back to your car, and you open the door for her to get in before heading to the driver's side yourself. once you're both settled in and the door is closed, you find yourself leaning back against the seat, exhaling a sigh of relief. you're content, so, so relieved. 

your girlfriend laughs at you, holding your hand. “i told you there would be nothing to worry about. they love you.” 

a small “mhm” is hummed as you really take in all the events, and then you turn to her lips turned up into a smile. 

“i’m just glad they’re fine with me dating the most stubborn, prettiest boss in the world.” 

mina rolls her eyes playfully before leaning in to kiss your knuckles, a gesture that makes your cheeks warmer and body relax. you lean your head closer, your gaze lingering on her lips before you press a kiss. 

as you pull back slightly, you find yourself taking in her features, illuminated by the soft light above. each contour of her face seems to emphasize the very features that drew you to her, making your heart swell with affection. you grin like an idiot.  

you kiss her knuckles. “seriously the prettiest boss in the world.” 

[martiansodas-blog]

Art x reader meeting the readers parents and it's an absolute mess:(

(bonus points if he finds her old room and plays with her calico critters and plushies)

ok my brain automatically went to older! art soooo…

your parents knew 2 things about your new boyfriend.

1- he’s successful.

and 2- he’s a couple years older than you.

a couple years is an understatement.

but you figured once they met him and saw how sweet he treated you it wouldn’t matter!

this did not turn out to be the case.

your mom and dad took one look at him and made a snap judgment.

they knew his type, (supposedly.)

old money. a younger girl on his arm. cold and aloof. power hungry.

it’s a shame. this couldn’t be farther from the truth.

art donaldson may be a weapon on the court, but behind closed doors he’s the little spoon who makes you heart shaped pancakes.

“so. where did the two of you meet?” your mother asks, more to be pleasant and less because she wants to know the answer.

“at work,” you said , fondly remembering the exchange, “he was-“

“heckling my daughter in the workplace?”

“mom.” you warn “no.”

“honey,” your dad reigns her in

she huffs and crosses her arms in defeat.

“i was needing some more tennis equipment, actually.” art chimes in,

“yeah he was looking for these fancy sweatbands but we didn’t carry any, we just sort of got to talking.”

your dad gave you both a soft smile

“well, you seem to make our little girl very happy.”

incoming call from: tashi

“speaking of little girl, that’s probably her saying goodnight. excuse me.”

art very politely stepped out onto the porch.

“he has a kid?” your mothers eyes looked like they could pop out of her head at any second. “honestly why on earth would you think this is a good idea?”

“yes he does and she’s very sweet. her names lily.” you said firmly.

“so what? you’re gonna be a stepmom in your early twenties? is that what you want?”

“i wanted to introduce the person i love to my parents. but obviously that was a bad idea.”

your dad ushers your mom into their bedroom. he gives you a apologetic glance before he closes the door.

you stood there, frozen in the entryway for an unknown amount of time. as long as it took for art to finish his call and rest his hands on your shoulders from behind.

“hey hey, what’s the matter? what happened?”

you didn’t realize you were crying until you started to speak. well, tried to speak anyway.

“they,” you sniffed, “she…i’m sorry,”

“oh honey,” he pulled you into a hug.

you buried your face in his toned chest.

“i should’ve known this would happen” you heaved, gripping his shirt.

“shh, shh it’s ok. this is most definitely not your fault.”

he stroked your back and pressed feather light kisses to your hairline until you calmed down. when you removed yourself there was a wet patch right in the middle of his torso.

“let’s go upstairs, yeah?” he suggested gently.

he was almost using his dad voice.

you nodded, grabbed his coarse hand and guided him up the steps.

“so this is your childhood bedroom?”

art took in the whimsy filled room. the ceiling was only about a foot taller than him.

“the one and only.” you managed to crack a smile.

it was just how you’d left it at 18. the walls were pink and green. a choice you’d made at 7 and never got around to changing.

you’re glad you never painted over it now, though. it makes you feel innocent again, like a time capsule you can walk into.

art strolled around the room. looking at drama club trophies that lined the bookshelf, the collection of calico critters and the photo booth films stuck on your mirror.

there was a good amount of dust on everything. it caused a pit in your stomach to open up.

“you ok?”

“yeah” you nodded, “just got a little carried away by nostalgia.”

art wasn’t sure if touch would be the right thing for you right now, so he opened his arms, giving you the option.

you hugged him without a second thought. like an instinct. you squeezed him with all your might, like a stress ball. art hardly felt it, though.

figures.

“meeting my family will go better. my grandmas already looking forward to it.”

you lifted your head to look at him.

“really?”

such a simple sentence gave you butterflies.

“yeah,” he chuckled, like it was obvious “i’ve told her all about you.”

you truly didn’t know what to say. so touched by the sincerity and excitement in his tone. it. it caused you to break into a smile, a real smile, for the first time since you’d got to your parents house.

“i’d like that very much.”

[inside-lees-mind]

I’m sorry for all the requests but Dr.stone brain rot is killing me 😭:

May I order a headcanon (once facking again) where their s/o’s family was extremely poor in the past, so when Ryusui made currency they spent the least amount of money, rarely eating out of habit and trying to not make the same mistake their family did before?

If there was a Tsukasa part I believe that would only fuel his anger more for the rich and greedy ngl 😭

Anyways, if you do my request once again. Thank you from the absolute bottom of my heart! And remember to always take care of yourself pookie <3

- Sincerely, 🍙 Anon

Reader’s Family was Poor in the Past

Hi!!! Thank you for the request! :) and do remember to take care of yourself too! Sorry this is so late to when you sent this in 😭 there is so much in my inbox, I jump around.

I chose Senku, Gen, Tsukasa, and Ryusui for this.

Senku Ishigami

He wasn’t too concerned with what everybody was doing, but your behavior doesn’t go unnoticed.

He watched as you picked through almost thousands of drago and only spent a few, and it almost seemed like you were scared to.

Ryusui had practically thrown drago at you because you were nearby and he complimented you and gave you plenty of money, so why were you spending SO cautiously like you were down to nickels and dimes? (I know nothing about Yen so I don’t know if there is an expression equivalent in Japanese)

You have nothing to really save the money for, so why were you debating so hard over spending it on a shirt. You wanted the shirt, didn’t you?

Eventually, he’d found out from somebody that knew you that your family was poor. He had thought something like that must have been the case, but now he knows for sure.

He’d likely encourage you to spend a bit more. Either that, or he’d bluntly tell you there is no reason to keep the money so close to you anymore.

Gen Asagiri

If he had that much money, he’d be blowing it.

You had thousands of drago that Ryusui had just handed you. And you were clutching onto it like you’d be robbed of it and be left for dead without it if you loosen up just a little.

You hesitated to get cotton candy, despite how much you said you missed the taste.

He watched you and soon noticed your behavior was like those who were less fortunate to have to ration to survive.

You didn’t need to do that here, the money isn’t that important. At the end of the day, the hunters in the kingdom of science would bring home food rather people paid them for the meat or not.

The community doesn’t run off of money, so your behavior is unnecessary. So he’d probably talk you out of it.

He’d come stand beside you, talking to you softly.

“Money isn’t that important here. You don’t need it to pay for a house. And the beasts of people we have here do the hunting for us, and never once have they asked for money. Nor would they deny you food if you couldn’t pay. You can save some… but maybe spend half? Plus…” he leans in to whisper, “Ryusui would gladly pay for you if it ever came to it. I’m sure a man like him will never run out of money.”

Tsukasa Shishio

Dragos have been around for a while, but you’re still clutching onto them like it’s life or death.

Francois doesn’t make you pay them for food. The hunters (him, Hyoga, etc) don’t make you pay them for meat or anything.

So your behavior has got to be engraved into you.

He might be on the side of kingdom of science, but deep down, this rise of currency and capitalism bothers him.

watching you struggle to let go of money makes him angry.

The world they used to live in had brought you to this point, and that pisses him off.

He knows what that’s like. He fought for money. He became famous for money. All for money for Mirai. Just so his sister would live.

He had to pay people to keep his sister alive.

And old men paid for the rights to land and he had no grounds to even do anything about getting beat down by one for picking seashells. That man OWNED those seashells.

He doesn’t know exactly what you went through, but he’s got an idea.

He doesn’t say much, but he makes sure to give you plenty of food and he’ll buy things for you and give them to you.

Honestly he’s so sweet.

Ryusui Nanami

Spend money, get bitches. Yk. (This man would hate the word bitches for sure. But I had to say this. Like side note, but he’s an advocate for the word to be offensive when leaving a man’s mouth)

Ryusui gave you thousands of drago and stepped back. He expected you to spend it, give to the economy, etc.

But you held onto it like you were gonna need it soon.

He doesn’t really know what that’s like. He’s always had lots of money.

Well, once he had a smaller allowance, but even that would be a lot to most other people. He doesn’t realize this so much, not until he sees you.

He’s confused at first.

What else is there to do in life than get all that one wants when they want it? Get your money up, keep your money up, spend your money up. Yk. The 3 pillars to life. (This is not what they are)

He gives you more money.

But you try to deny it.

He insists. Then he watches you clutch onto it like you’ll need it all in an hour.

He probably goes over to encourage you. Telling you to see things how he sees it.

And then you probably explain why you just can’t. You’re scared you’ll end up like your family was as a kid.

He begins to see what you mean, and he’ll probably spend some money on you.

“Don’t be scared. There isn’t anything to worry about money about here. Even if everything had a cost soon, I’d pay for whatever you needed. And all these people would surely do you a favor even if.”

[moonstruckme]

hi lovely!! i just had the most amazing 7 hrs of my life just scrolling through your page and reading all of your marauders work!! i never even thought about poly!marauders being a possibility until i found your page and i think you’ve altered my brain chemistry forever???

that being said, i would absolutely be so grateful if you could write a gn!reader with poly!marauders at the start of their relationship, where reader’s a much shorter than average person and the boys (who would be so, so tall) have to learn how to walk slower to make sure they don’t leave them behind. i’m so much shorter than my friends and what i do most of the times is run forward in advance and be in front of the group so i don’t get left behind. i’m totally used to it by now, but it’d be nice to have ppl recognize not everyone can go at the same pace, you know? that was so long, so sorry!! and no worries at all if you don’t wanna write it, totally understand! love u so much 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Hi love!! Omg, 7 hours??? Were your eyes okay after that? Sorry it took me so long to get to this, but thanks a ton for requesting and I hope you like it <3

poly!marauders x gn!reader ♡ 644 words

It’s mainly James and Sirius that are the problem. Remus has learned to hold your hand to temper his own long-legged pace, but much like with talking, when James and Sirius get together they start moving at double the speed. 

“Should we call them?” he asks. 

You consider it. “Let’s see how far they get before they notice.” 

A couple more minutes go by, and Remus can barely see the tops of their heads through the crowded sidewalk. 

“Still no idea?” He searches for notes of dejection in your tone, but finds only amusement. 

“None.” 

“Let’s hide.”

He blinks. “What? No, love…” He sighs reluctantly, but lets you tug him into a nearby coffee shop. 

You buy them each a hot chocolate, and it’s five more minutes before Sirius and James go by in the shop’s window, appearing slightly bemused but otherwise unconcerned. You make to go outside, but this time it’s Remus who holds you back. 

“No, let them stew a minute.” 

The next time they come by, the pair looks noticeably more troubled. Remus knocks on the window, and you both wave when they turn to you, gawping. 

The bell jingles as they come inside. 

“Hey, we’ve been looking for you.” James rubs his hands together, blowing warmth into them. Remus feels a tiny bit guilty and takes them between his. He pretends not to see the toothy grin James shoots him. 

“Oh?” Remus makes his tone casual, and you sip at your hot chocolate to hide your smile. “For how long?” 

“Like, five minutes. You just disappeared,” Sirius complains, scooching into your chair so that you have to share it with him. He peers at your hot chocolate, then Remus’. “Oi, you didn’t get any for us?” 

“Interesting,” Remus goes on, ignoring the question, “because we’ve been in here for nearly fifteen.” 

Sirius blinks, and James cocks his head. “Really?” James asks. 

You nudge Remus’ leg playfully under the table. “No,” you tell them, rolling your eyes. “We just wanted to see how long it would take you guys to notice we weren’t behind you.” 

“You could stand to be a little more considerate,” Remus says primly, sipping his hot chocolate. 

“Aw, baby.” Sirius nestles his freezing nose into your cheek, grinning when you squirm away. “Did those little legs of yours separate us?” 

You roll your eyes, but once again Remus comes to your defense. “Their legs aren’t the problem, yours are. Until you two can learn to be considerate of the less…height privileged” —he pretends not to see the aghast look you send him, and goes on with faux dispassion— “there will be no hot chocolate for either of you.” 

Sirius scoffs, but James is nodding slowly, seeming to mull things over. “Sounds fair,” he says. “However, have you considered that we could simply purchase our own hot chocolate?” 

“Not,” says Remus, “on ethical grounds.” 

James pulls his hands kindly from Remus’ grasp, giving him an almost consoling pat on the shoulder. “C’mon, Pads, let’s go order.” Sirius hops up, and James stops by your chair on his way past to drop a kiss on your head. “We’ll try to keep to your speed from now on, lovie. Sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” you say, having forgiven them long before they even knew they wanted to be forgiven. 

“Honestly, who should you really be mad at?” Sirius gives you a conspiratorial look. “Your knight in shining armor over there just called you ‘the less height privileged.’” 

“Don’t let him turn us against each other,” Remus says, reaching across the table to clasp your hand firmly. “It’s how he gets his way.” 

“I know,” you stage-whisper back. Then to Sirius, “Go get your hot chocolate, and I’ll decide who I’m mad at depending on whether there’s a slice of pumpkin bread with you when you come back.” 

He scurries towards the counter.

[reiderwriter]

Hii! Could you write a Spencer x fem reader, she's extremely confident & forward and Spencer gets all flustered, shy and overwhelmed at how forward she is with flirting with him and complimenting him (even tho he loves it), thank you:-)

A/N: This was such a cute request, thanks for sending it in! I love shy and oblivious Spencer he's so silly and cute ㅠㅠ

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: pure fluff

Word Count: 2k

Summary: Spencer Reid is a genius. But if he hasn't noticed you've been flirting with his for a week straight, he must be an idiot. Non-BAU!Reader.

Warnings: Alcohol intake. Kissing. Slightly suggestive ending.

Here's my masterlist, requests are open! 🎉

Working with the FBI as a consultant on a case was practically a dream come true for you, but what was even more dreamy was the man you got to work with whilst consulting. You’d arrived bright and early, really eager to help with the case you’d been called in for. On the phone, Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner had asked for your help decoding some documents that the team thought had something to do with the Literature you were teaching as part of your course at a local university.

In all honesty, you were a massive fan of detective novels, an early love for Agatha Christie and the Golden Age of mystery making you entertain an idea in law enforcement before you decided that really wasn’t for you, so you were eager to help out in anyway you could fathom.

“One of our Special Agents, Doctor Reid, has decoded most of it, but he says there are some key areas he may be missing and he wants to pick your brains, to see if you can help him come up with something,” he said, guiding you into a small sideroom.

Having previously heard that Doctor Spencer Reid had achieved no less than three PhDs and three additional Bachelor's Degrees in varying subjects, you weren’t quite sure to expect when walking into the room. You certainly weren’t expecting one of the prettiest men you’d ever seen in your life to be sat reading through a pretty thick tome at an incredible speed.

“Reid, this is Professor Y/L/N, she’s here to help you decode the cypher. Professor, this is Doctor Spencer Reid.” Hotchner introduced you, but as soon as you picked your jaw up off the floor, you instantly stepped forward.

“Please, call me Y/N. It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you… Spencer was it?” You smile and stick out your hand. You notice the flush on the man's face and your grin grows even wider as he hesitates to take your hand.

“I’m sorry, I don’t really shake hands, the number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss.��� He stutters through the words, almost struggling to get them out, but you don’t falter for a second.

“Kiss me then,” you say smirking up at him and you realise that the other agent had since left the room, leaving you alone with the object of your affections. Ignoring your response, but face tinged such a bright shade of red that you knew he was effected by it, he dives into the facts of the case.

“We think that he’s using some kind of cypher based on some books you’ve been researching recently at the University, which means we think he could possibly be a student of yours. I read through your PhD thesis this morning, and there are certain commonalities that suggest you could be the key to solving some of our unknowns.”

“You read my thesis? What did you think of it?” you ask, moving to sit in the chair directly next to him, scooting it a little bit closer than was polite.

“I don’t have a degree in Literature of the Renaissance Period, so I’m not sure how much value my opinion really holds in this scenario,” he looks at you and you’re pleasantly surprised at how genuine he’s being.

“Well, you’ve seen mine, can I see yours?” you allow the cogs in his brain to keep turning for a few seconds then continue. “I’m sure with three PhDs to your name, you’ve probably got a few research papers floating about, right?”

“Oh….” he blushes again, turning his eyes away from you and doing his best not to make eye contact. “I’m sure I could send them to you after we’ve completed this case if you think they would allow you a deeper insight into any of my fields of study.” He coughs a little to hide the way his voice pitched up as he spoke and kept his eyes trained on the book in his hands.

This consulting role was going to be the most fun you’d had in weeks.

–X–

A week later, you found yourself sat at a bar, surrounded by the members of the BAU team celebrating another case closed, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to fully partake in their merryments exactly. You’d assumed, after an entire week of flirting very openly with Reid, that when he’d asked you to the bar that evening to celebrate wrapping up the case, he’d meant just the two of you. Alas, you had discovered over the week that not only was he the most adorable man you’d ever met, he was also the most oblivious. Impressive for a man with an IQ of 187.

You couldn’t complain too much. Your help on the case had meant the rescue of two young girls, two of your students in undergrad courses nonetheless, so you’d at least made a difference. You had nothing against the rest of the team either, having become fast friends with Garcia, and enjoying your twenty minutes of small ltalk in the morning at the coffee station with Prentiss, Morgan and JJ as well. Hell, you even loved Rossi, who gave off the fun Uncle vibe that you found rounded out the team well. But you couldn’t curb your disappointment still, so you distanced yourself from the table a bit and removed yourself to the bar to grab yourself a new drink. You stayed there for a few minutes to nurse it.

“Hello, beautiful,” the man sat at the barstool next to you leered down at you, “you looking for some company in the bottom of that glass tonight?” He winked at you and your skin crawled. It wasn’t just his creepy smile, and the disgusting way he dragged his eyes over your body, it was that he was also very likely older than your own father. Some people were into that, but you certainly weren’t

“Not today, thanks,” you said, hoping that would be enough to get him to leave you in peace, but of course it wasn’t.

“Hot piece of ass like you, you need a real man to take care of you.” He pushed his hand out and for a split second you were convinced he was going to make an attempt to smack your ass. Before he was able to make contact, and, perhaps more importantly, before you could be arrested for aggravated assault, a hand was wrapping around your hip and pulling you away from the man, your back colliding with a firm chest behind you.

“Y/N, Special Agent Hotchner is about to leave and he wanted to thank you for coming to consult for us. The FBI is always really grateful for conscientious citizens like you willing to help us keep the streets safe.” Spencer turned you around and said, emphasising words to make it clear what his job was, speaking loudly enough that you knew the words were only for the creep behind you who’d thought to lay a hand on you.

“Thanks, Spencer,” you said as the man downed the rest of his drink and made to leave the bar, obviously embarrassed and threatened by Spencer’s arrival. He made to loosen his grip on you as the man left, but you through your arms around his neck, not letting him leave. If this was your last opportunity to make him realise what you wanted, you absolutely weren’t going to let it get away from you.

“I wanted to thank you for this week as well, Spencer. Hotch said it was you that recommended me for the consulting role.” He blushed and stood there a little awkwardly, but made no move to leave, his hands unmoving from your hips. It reminded you of your middle school prom, in all honesty.

“Oh that’s no big deal. It worked out pretty well in the end, though, right, with your students and everything.” You nodded and thanked him again, but you were still pretty reluctant to see him walk away, back to the table filled with his closest friends and colleagues.

“So, are you looking forward to going back home? I’m sure your boyfriend or husband or whatever will be really glad to see you again.” He mumbled and you felt your heart stop for a second.

“Spencer, I don’t have a boyfriend. Or a husband, or any kind of partner for that matter. I’m sorry if I made you think I do,” you saw his eyes widen in panic a little, and you relaxed a bit yourself as he started to talk again.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just assumed that someone as pretty as you couldn’t be single.” He stuttered every single word out, and you didn’t quite register his words for a second.

“You think I’m pretty?” you ask looking up at him and he gapes down at you, realising this conversation is just him shooting himself in the foot over and over again.

“Shit… what I mean is…Y/N you have to know you’re gorgeous, right?” It was your turn to blush then, feeling the sincerity in his words.

“You know, I thought you were asking me out on a date tonight.” You tell him, watching his entire face crumple again in distress.

“But I told you we were going out to celebrate finishing the case!” He spoke in his defence.

“Spencer, what were your exact words?”

“Y/N, do you want to grab a drink tonight? It would be nice to celebrate now that the case is closed and- oh. OH.” The realisation dawned on his face, and you enjoyed the little look of devastation that played out there as his blush deepened.

“It’s fine, Spencer, really. If you’re not interested in me, you’re not interested, I get it.” You sighed, finally moving to let him go, resigned to your fate now.

“Wait, Y/N, that’s not what I meant!” He grabbed you by the hand gently, not quite as close as you were the moment before but still standing notably close. You realised you probably had an audience for this.

“I didn’t realise that you’d want to go on a date with me, you’re so beautiful and smart, I just never thought you’d be interested.” Your brain almost exploded with that, and you had to make a conscious effort to not have your jaw drop to the floor, but apparently the man wasn’t finished. “I just assumed you had a flirty personality, and like, really look at you and then look at me-” you absolutely had to cut him off before he said anything else, so you did.

Crashing your lips up into his was the most sensible thing you’d done since stepping into the bar that evening. He was statuesque at first, unmoving while your lips pressed against him, but he warmed up to it and began kissing you back with equal fervor. You moved the hands that were holding yours to your waist, then moved your own hands up to tangle in his hair, playing with a few curls at the base of his neck.

After a few minutes, you finally pulled away to see a dumbstruck expression on his face.

“Oh. Oh, I see now,” was all he could get out, unable to form more words as he panted into the space between you,

“Yeah? That’s good. I’ve been flirting with you all week, so it’s nice of you to finally notice.” You giggle up at him slowly, and he tightens his grip on your waist.

“What should….what should I do now?” He asked, obviously a little bit unsure of himself, and happy to let you take the lead.

“Well, you can either take me back to your place now, or you could start with asking me out on that date?” He looked like he was seriously weighing up his options for a minute, before he looked you in the eye again.

“Can I do both?”

--X--

����️ @w-windyy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @bluecandycake @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @lover-of-books-and-tea @star0055 @daddy-dotcom @zaapsite @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @kat453 @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @alyssaxstan @ghostheartbeat @beguiling3lavender @Casss2111 @zatannas-wand @rebloggiest-reblogger @kspencer34

[sickeninglyshoujo]

a/n: continually obsessed w/ cod dads, here's price

part 1: simon here

part 3: soap here

part 4: gaz here

masterlist here

warnings: pregnancy

word count: 1.7k

buy me a ko-fi

Price was afraid to have babies with you because of the age difference and you rolled your eyes every time he talked about being an old man and how a pretty young thing like you shouldn’t be dating him much less trying to get knocked up by someone his age. As if he’d let you even entertain the thought of leaving him for a young buck who couldn’t spoil you like you deserved.

Throughout your pregnancy he treated you like fine China, afraid he’d say the wrong thing and make you cry. He’s heard about women’s hormones during pregnancy even as you remained rock solid, rolling your eyes when he’d ‘yes dear’ you.

You tried to kick him out of the bathroom when morning sickness hit and he refused. Instead sitting on the tub next to you, petting your back as you leaned into the toilet and tried to soothe you, telling you how strong you were and how beautiful you were carrying his baby even with sick bubbling up your throat at the slightest movement “I thought morning sickness was only supposed to be in the morning,” you moaned with your forehead pressed against the cool floor tile. “It’’s a misnomer, love,” John said, removing himself from his perch on the tub to wet a cool washcloth and wipe down your face.

He wishes this phase was over, hates seeing you in pain like this.

That changes once the baby’s born then he’s ready to do it all over again. He didn’t know how attached he’s gotten to helping you do the things you couldn’t because of your belly  like putting on your shoes (looking up at your belly reverently the entire time before planting a kiss on it) for you and helping you pick things off the floor that your clumsy fingers dropped. He grew a particular affection for helping you rub shea butter and vitamin E oil over your rapidly appearing stretch marks.

Price insists on building the nursery furniture without reading the directions, “Know what I’m doin’ woman,” and to your chagrin he was right. Managed everything without a set of directions perched on his knee and instead chucked them to the side with the box.

The first thing he built was the fancy rocking chair he bought for you, insisting you don’t help him with anything “At least let me hold the screws John, I feel stupid just sitting here!”

To him, peace is this. This is what so many long nights holed up in some shithole on a mission have led to. Him sitting on the floor at your feet, building a life together while oldies play on the record player in the next room. He’s so overwhelmed in the moment he can’t help but pull your hand to his lips and kiss it and laughs at you when you ask him what’s wrong

“It’s all right, is the thing, love.”

When you get the first ultrasound, he stops at the store on the way home and purchased a picture frame (insisting you stay in the car and not overexert yourself, he’ll just be a moment, love). The next day he’s on base it now proudly sits facing him next to the photo of him and you vacationing in London with your faces squeezed together in the frame, selfie-style.

Tells anyone who enters his office about you and how far along you are, whether they ask or not, comparing the baby to different sized fruits, which parts were developing that week.

“She’s the size of a lime now, tiny little thing.”

“Can you imagine that she’s growing fingernails in my bird’s belly!”

Absolutely rubbed your swollen ankles in the evenings when he got home from work, peppering gentle kisses on them when he switched feet

Loved your pregnancy brain fog and would kiss your nose any time he got to remind you about something. He became the keeper of your calendar, scheduling your appointments and taking you to them.

When you go into labor, he’s on base in a meeting with some high-brass in a meeting on a highly classified matter. He’s not even allowed to bring his phone into the room. Instead having to turn it off and lock it in a safe prior to entering even with a baby on the way. He was aware this might happen and had instructed you on the line of succession.

“If you can’t get ahold of me, leave me a message lovie, then go down the line. Simon’s second-in–command-”

“Then Kyle, then Johnny, I know, John, you’ve drilled it into my head,” You soothe him, petting the creases he’s worn between his eyebrows, “It’ll be just fine, women have been doing it for thousands of years.”

“I’ll be there, I promise lovie,” He kisses your palm

You leave the message on John’s voicemail, a curt, “It’s time John, once I hang-up I’m dialing Simon, just like we practiced.”

Simon answers on the third ring, “Missus?” His rumbly voice cuts across the line.

“It’s time Simon and John’s still in the meeting since his phone is turned off.”

“Copy.”

The line goes dead leaving you blinking at the Call Ended screen.

You decide that Simon is aware of the drastic nature of the matter and instead busy yourself, you lug the baby bag and your purse to the floor next to the door and go through the checklist John had created in the front pocket: Stove off, windows shut and locked, televisions off…It wasn’t until Simon was letting himself into your front door that the list was likely a distraction from your husband to stop you from leaving on your own until Simon arrived.

Simon collects you with the cool confidence of a Lieutenant in the special forces.

No, don’t worry about the bags or the door, he’s got it, just get yourself into the car.

You try John’s number over and over on the way to the hospital, narrating Simon’s driving, “John, I’m going to have words with you when this is over, I cannot believe you let your pregnant wife in a car with what has to be the worst driver in all of Manchester!”

Before you know it, you’re being rushed into the hospital with Ghost snapping at the nurse at the desk for a wheelchair, NOW! He barks out orders in true military fashion leaving your head buried in your hands as you’re being escorted to the maternity ward.

“Now don’t worry, Sir, your wife is in excellent hands,” one of the nurses addresses Simon, all muscle pushing you in the wheelchair, unblinking and matching their pace.

“He’s not-” You try and interject.

“She better be,” Simon cuts you off, “And the labor will be handled with the utmost care or someone will have to answer to me personally.”

The contractions have started coming back to back and you’re pacing the hospital room, sucking on ice chips fed to you by a patient Simon.

Kyle and Johnny have also arrived and join him in his vigil, somehow maneuvering their way through the “Father and family only” policy the hospital has.

“She was adopted,” You later find out Kyle deadpanned at the security trying to stop him from entering the room, “Can’t you see the family resemblance?”

True to his word, John is there.

He’s rushed into the room, frazzled and running his hand over his beard, eyes darting until he finds you, “Hey sweet girl, I’m here, I’m here,” pointedly ignoring the nurse trying to count out the men in the room

(“Who are these men to you again miss?”)

(“I’m the father,” Gaz informs, flipping through a magazine to pass the time between bursts of activity with contractions.)

You moan out John’s name slapping at his chest weekly when he gathers you up into his arms and hugs you, “I’m mad at you John!”

“Don’t be mad, love, I made it just like I promised,” He tries to soothe you, smoothing his hands over your disheveled hair. “Not about being late, about getting me pregnant!” “It’s a bit late for that now, love,” He does his best to hide the smile twitching into place under his mustache. 

The boys remain in the room for the entire labor, John holding one hand and the other men trading off when your grip became too strong (“Dinnae know the lass could break my bones with just one hand,” Johnny moans shaking out his aching appendage.)

When the baby finally arrives, the doctor again looks around at the men in the room, “Would…Dad like to hold her?”

John finally extracts himself from your bruising grip to hold your daughter, eyes twinkling with joy at seeing the bundle covered in blood and viscera. Such a difference from every other time he’d been covered in the blood, these are stains he’ll gladly wear.

#1 baby wearer captain price

“I hardly get to hug you anymore because she’s always strapped to you!”

Price’s eyebrows go up at that, “Are you jealous, love?

 “Not jealous, but I miss my husband's arms around me!” When you say that with a slight pout in your voice, Price is quick to arrange Uncle Soap and Gaz so he can wine and dine you like old times. 

You make sure to wag your finger enough at the boys and remind them they’re there to babysit, not throw a rager and rile up the baby, even though you know your warnings are falling onto deaf ears. You wholeheartedly expect to return home to a cranky and overtired baby and two military men.

“Can’t neglect either of my girls” he’d mutter into your hair after pulling you close after dinner, holding you to his chest tightly in the middle of the sidewalk 

“You never do, John, you’re the best man I could’ve hoped for,” You muttered into his chest, “Never did I think I’d get someone so in love with me and our child.”

Will regularly fall asleep with the baby curled on his chest, boonie hat pulled down over his eyes, with your daughter also lulled to sleep by his steady breaths. You can’t help but take a photo every time it happens, so smitten with how your husband enjoys his quiet days on leave.

You can’t help but send the photo to the boys, having the group chat with them immediately blown up with emojis sent by Soap, laughing at the Captain’s prone form.

As a joke the photo ends up framed on Price’s desk, next to the ultrasound. Price actually enjoys having it to remind him of the peace he has waiting at home and the joke is ruined when the photo remains in it’s place of honor.

[mochinomnoms]

hrng… trey birthday fic…

I’m not gonna lie, for awhile, I didn’t really like trey. i didn’t dislike him, mind you, but he was just kind of there. but all of a sudden, my brain was just thinkin about trey. like i’m just chillin at home, and i’m just thinking about trey. he’s just so…

and then you posted the birthday fic and godDAMN

Mochi, you are a genius. I am a buff trey truther. mans would have hella arm muscle and I will not accept any less. sorry i just keep thinking about trey now. he would have the biggest breeding kink its not even funny

anyhow, if you have more trey I would LOVE to read it especially if it’s about him being a pervert

i’m so normal i promise

as always, have a wonderful day ^^

-🦷

AAAAAA TY!!! I'm so glad that you're seeing the appeal for Trey he really is an underrated character!! I got that eldest daughter syndrome and Trey as a character feeds into that ngl.

I also had a crush on Peeta from The Hunger Games when I was a kid and I was remembering a bit where it was pointed out that as a baker, Peeta was actually hella strong (he could toss 100 lbs flour bags over his shoulder), so it would only make sense to me that Trey would be similar.

I image he would have a bit more of a sleeper build, so it's not obvious how strong he is until he's actually doing something physical (like fucking me—). None of the sprites do him justice in that regard, but this very specific panel from the manga does do things to me:

aaaaaaaaa big strong arms to hold you in~

Trey is also kinda silly in the fact that he canonically is really bad at flirting, or at the every least being suave/romantic. Poor ghost bride, getting her eyes compared to grapes...

He did say that it was cause he was put on the spot, which is partially true. I like to think that he's the type to just say something flirty or romantic without meaning to.

Think of an old married couple where one of them will casually drop a compliment like it's the most natural thing in the world. That's how Trey is, and he doesn't even realize it! It's very sweet, and it's very easy to fall for of course!

I, of course, have other thots as well tehehe~

He absolutely has the biggest breeding kink (no this isn't just copy and pasting my own kinks into my favs, wat you talking about?). He grew up with a happy family, and had a bit of a taste of what parenthood is like while taking care of his siblings.

He wants to replicate that for his own family, no doubt, but it's not exactly those reasons that he's so into breeding you. No, it's the, forgive him for the silly comparison, look of your hole absolutely stuffed like a éclair (which I've seen several people on here ask of him YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE).

The sight of you swollen, twitchy, and full hole is sooooosososososoooooo yummy, and he has the excuse that he has to make sure his seed will take to keep filling you! It's not until after when your belly is swelling with a baby that his pregnancy kink kicks in...but perhaps that's another discussion for another time.

My last thoughts for just this moment are that Trey maaaay have a slight bit of an oral fixation. He likes seeing your mouth on his dick, he likes to open your lips with his cum still resting on your tongue and running his fingers over your teeth, and he reeaaally likes to have you bite down on his neck and admire the teeth marks. Not enough to bleed, mind you, but enough that he could take a picture and then compare the marks to your actual teeth later on in fascination. It's only a little weird, indulge him won't you?

[sisitrip]

Future Whispers

My little crispy soul is trying to knit itself back together. I'm choosing to do that with an early Gallavich stolen moment.

_________________________

Ian smiled in the dark as Mickey swatted his hand away from the bathroom lightswitch. 

“That’s not like you,” he murmured. “You usually want to see everything.”

A warm press of air was the only warning he got before Mickey kissed him, soft and deliberate. Astounded, he stilled, afraid to breathe. It was still so new, this kissing, and like new things, it was precious. 

“Easy,” Mickey whispered when he finally remembered to breathe. “There’s no part of you that I don’t want to see when we’re doing that.” Mickey gave him another soft, astonishing kiss. “But, right now, I’m after less, especially with your family down there doing the most.” 

A high pitched squeal rang out from downstairs, punctuating Mickey’s point. 

He laughed, letting Mickey drag him to the toilet and push him to sit on its closed lid. Before he could blindly reach out for Mickey, his lap filled with his warm, heaven scented weight. 

“So, what’s “less” to Mickey Milkovich? I didn’t think you knew how to do less,” he whispered around another kiss, sliding his hands up and down Mickey’s thighs. Emboldened by the dark, he rounded his hands to Mickey’s ass and got a nip to his bottom lip for his roaming.

“I don’t do less. But, I’m settling for this until everybody knocks out,” Mickey whispered back, slipping a bit of tongue between his lips.  

He nearly lost track of the conversation as their kisses grew longer, more heated. 

“I’ll try not to take your ‘settling’ personally,” he breathed.

“Relax, it’s not like that. I'm just trying this mouth-pressing thing again.”

“Mouth-pressing?” he laughed against Mickey’s lips. “God, you’re so romantic.”

“That's what it is, ain’t it? Just two sets of lips pressing together in a sloppy way.” Mickey pulled his lower lip into his mouth and gave it an exquisite nip. “Be glad I didn’t call it tongue stacking.” 

“If you don’t stop describing it so beautifully, I think I'm going to cry,” he said, chasing after Mickey’s tongue with his own.

Mickey chuckled and leaned back. 

“I’m just calling it like I see it. Anyway, I’m still deciding if I hate this whole mouth-pressing thing. No wait. Yeah. I hate it.” Mickey immediately dove in for another tongue-filled kiss.

“Oh, that much is clear.” He pulled Mickey closer, hardening beneath him. “You definitely despise kissing.”

“Absolutely disgusts me,” Mickey said, tilting his head so he could kiss at a better angle.

He smiled into the next kiss.

“Then we should just end this horrible kissing and do something else.” He tried to pull Mickey’s shirt out of his pants. “I've been thinking all night how much I want to feel you come on my stomach while you ride me.”

Mickey stopped his roaming hands and buried his hot face in his neck. Despite the sheer number of times he’s been inside Mickey, the little mouth-pressing hater was still shy about dirty talk. He didn’t have ‘bashful thug’ on his dating Bingo card, but he was here for it.

“Gallagher, if people knew that Disney looking mouth of yours was all Pornhub, your stock would tank.” 

He lifted Mickey’s head by the chin and kissed him. 

“I’m devastated. I thought my mouth was your favorite thing about me,” he murmured, stealing tiny kisses. 

“Tied for first. If you ask me what it’s tied with, I’m braining you.”

They kissed languidly for a bit, heat banking just enough to kick his thoughts toward things beyond kissing. Future related things he’s been wanting from Mickey for a while now. His mouth, clearly not occupied enough, decided to start trouble. 

“What are you going to do when I’m like, 60 years old and my mouth-pressing game isn’t as strong?” he asked, going for Mickey’s chin with a kiss and landing on his nose.

There’s a beat of quiet. He expected Mickey to change the subject, like he did with all future talk. But, instead, he got no such brush off, as miraculous as that was. 

“I mean, your mouth-pressing game ain’t that strong now.”

He snorted. 

“But, if you’re asking for 60 year old Ian,” Mickey teased, kissing his cheek. “I think I might tolerate a lower level of mouth-pressing. But, let the record reflect that everything else has to stay above board.”

“Yeah? Everything else like what?” he asked, heart thudding a little at Mickey envisioning the future with him. 

“That arms and legs wrapping thing we do before sleep.”

“Cuddling?” 

“Yeah. That shit better not slack off.”

He beamed in the dark. “Noted. What else?” 

“Hugs from behind. They remain fully operational or I’m out.”

He huffed a soft laugh. 

“Of course. Anything else?”

Mickey’s quiet for a long time, stroking his hands up and down his chest. 

“You being the first thing I see when I wake up,” Mickey whispered. “And the last thing I see before I go to sleep.”

He said nothing, but his eyes got entirely too hot. Like a bat using echolocation, Mickey knew he was teetering on tears, even in the dark. 

“Keep it together, Gallagher.”

His emotional laugh confirmed Mickey’s suspicions and he was rewarded with a kiss to his forehead. 

“Is that-” He stopped and cleared his throat. “Is that all?”

“No.” 

“What then?” 

Mickey scooted until they were belly to belly and hugged him tight, like he needed support. When he spoke, his voice was vulnerable and rough with emotion. 

“Keep being happy to see me. Keep … keep wanting me to be around.” 

He wrapped Mickey up, heart splintering. It wasn’t Mickey’s soft plea that broke him. It’s the idea that one day he’s going to stop wanting him close, as if that was remotely possible. He’d tried keeping his distance and it had been like watching color violently drain out of the world. 

“That’ll never slack off, you hear me?” He squeezed Mickey tighter, meaning it to his marrow. “Never.”

Mickey didn’t say anything. He only pressed closer. 

He held Mickey in the dark for a while, listening to his family’s ruckus downstairs. Unbidden, the thought of being a husband, Mickey’s husband, bloomed into his mind for the first time. He smiled into Mickey's shoulder, frightened and excited by the thought. Husband.

Mickey pressed a sweet kiss into his neck and hugged him tighter, clearly thinking about some things himself. He decided to let them both off the hook. For now.

“So, my fingers must be tied for first with my tongue-stacking, right?” he asked, bouncing Mickey a little on his lap. 

Mickey snorted. “First off, it’s mouth-pressing. Second, your fingers are okay, but not first place material.” 

“My legs then.” 

“Those chicken sticks? Hell no.” 

He started giggling. 

“My eyes. You’re always saying how green and alien looking they are. You like that weird shit.” 

Mickey pulled back. “I do, but they’re second place. You know, I could just tell you instead of you guessing, Ian.” 

“If you say anything but my dick, I’m tossing you in the bathtub.” 

Mickey held his face in his hands. 

“How could it be anything but that? Your beef bus is insane.” 

He broke down laughing, pulling Mickey into another kiss. 

“My mouth-pressing and beef bus thank you for the compliment.” He grabbed Mickey’s belt. “You feel like taking that bus for a ride?” 

Mickey groaned and gave his cheek a tap. 

“I don’t know how you live being that corny. And the answer is no. I ain’t skeeting with your little brothers and sister downstairs.” 

“How about some more mouth-pressing instead? Just to make sure you really hate it.” 

Mickey sighed. “Alright, get that Disney mouth ready. Maybe by the time you’re 60, you’ll be better at this whole mouth-pressing nonsense.” 

That earned Mickey some tickling and his whispered giggles made the dark bathroom magical. He liked Mickey whispering about their future. He liked that Mickey thought about it at all. If they somehow manage to make it, he’ll remember this as the place where their lives started to take root and shape. 

On a bevy of future whispers in the dark.