#admittedly i feel kind of stressed out about this??

[justjwab]

Top 10 posts customer service workers hate reading

very controversial opinion here, but sometimes customer service workers are the problem 😶

[ridher]

thinking about s2 rafe & just want to comfort him so bad

you knew something had been off with your boyfriend. with the way he was constantly running around town and refusing to tell you anything about these 'errands', it was concerning.

it wasn't worrying because you thought he was doing anything disloyal, but you knew the immense amount of pressure he was constantly under thanks to his father and you just wanted rafe to be alright — even if that meant you weren't his number one priority for once.

not expecting much, you invited yourself over to tanneyhill when rafe had failed to respond to your string of texts. it felt stupid, but you just wanted to see the boy after being pretty much alone for a few days without his presence.

forgoing knocking, you step inside the familiar foyer leading into the mansion, shoes scuffing across the floor where your yoga pants flow over.

the sound of distant talking and footsteps echo through the house, but it doesn't deter you from continuing your path up the stairs to where you know rafe's bedroom is — admittedly the only place you've memorized how to get to.

looking up from your feet when you reach the second floor, you're met with the sight of ward who seems equally as surprised at the sight.

"hey, sweetheart. good to see you." keeping it brief, he gives your arm a squeeze before passing by and flashing what you infer to be a guilty smile.

soon, you're at rafe's door and suddenly don't feel so sure about the decision to come over — hesitating in the hallway.

when your hand reaches for the knob, your name is mumbled behind you. startled, your hand jerks away and you turn to look over your shoulder — now completely turning around and relaxing when you see your boyfriend.

his tired eyes and slouched posture along with the stressed ruffle of his sandy curtain bangs reveal his state of emotion, visibly breaking your heart as you step forward.

without hesitation, you lean up on your toes to wrap your arms behind his neck and pull him into a hug. as much as he hates to admit it, you know better than anyone how he craves physical touch.

rafe lets out a shaky exhale and practically melts into your body, arms snaking around your waist and combining the shape of your body with his own.

his head drops to your shoulder and buries in the crook of your neck, breath warm and uneven against your skin. bringing a hand to rest at the bottom of his scalp, you lightly drag your nails across it — acrylics grown out from how long it'd been since he took you out to get them done.

you're rarely the one initiating any kind of contact, but it comes naturally when he's right there, so vulnerable in front of you.

"i love you," you assure him, not expecting a response as you just wanted to let him know someone was on his side, no matter how fucked up he convinces himself he is.

"love you too, baby." it's deep and muffled against your body, sending a shiver from the contact all the way down your back.

you spend the rest of the day in his company, curled up in bed and occasionally wandering about the house. it's mostly silent since he still keeps all his troubles to himself, but being in one another's company is enough for both of you.

falling asleep in his arms and nothing's changed, he holds you as if you'll slip away with his face buried in your hair, hands ghosting over every part of your body — indulging in a softer show of affection he deems as weak.

but at this moment, he doesn't seem to care. all worries are saved for the following morning when you wake up once again in an empty bed.

[tender-rosiey]

“IT’S LAUGHING?! IT’S ALIVE?!”

— gojo, geto, nanami, sukuna, and toji hearing the baby’s first laugh (f!reader)

a/n: guess who's back, back again then I will be gone again (probably)

GOJO SATORU:

your husband is, admittedly, a very funny guy.

his humor always manages to get to people one way or another, so even if he doesn’t get a laugh, he certainly gets some sort of reaction.

not with his little angel though, the one person that he would die to see her laugh.

no matter how much tickling or raspberries he blew, it was never a laugh, merely a smile or a very short giggle if he was lucky.

he would come across a ton of videos of babies having hearty laughs and simply wished to be able to get the same reaction out of his daughter.

it is the reason he is currently burying his face in your chest and whining, “I feel like she thinks I am just not that funny.”

“satoru, she is still a baby,” you hum, fingers carding through his hair, “you know that babies have different views about what is actually funny; actually, I saw baby not long ago at a photo of number eleven. it was so cute!”

“but I tried everything! even the unusual!” he huffs, standing up to retell all of his failed attempts, “I tried dropping stuff, quickly stirring a liquid, lightly touching her with a balloon—everything!”

he looks at his daughter with his best puppy eyes, “come on, d/n! isn’t there anything that would you laugh a belly laugh?”

a little idea pops into your head. giggling, you sneak off leaving your daughter trying to comfort her wailing papa the best she can.

d/n is caught up with satoru until you finally come back and she smiles, “mama!”

“hi baby!” you grin before smacking your husband—lightly but not so lightly—with a roll of newspaper.

he yelps, “y/n! why would you do that?!”

but he is cut off by his little girl laughing, and I mean laughing so hard she kind of leans back.

you wait until she is quiet again before smacking him with the roll one more time, and she, once more, starts laughing heartily with small little wheezes and a long breath in the end when she calms down.

your husband, mortified, picks his daughter up, “d/n! you’re not supposed to laugh when papa gets hit! you’re supposed to get sad!”

she starts giggling and kicking her feet, putting her hand lightly on his nose. she tilts her head confused, and satoru thinks he knows what she is waiting for him to say. he shan’t falter!

at least, that’s what he thinks.

d/n takes matter into her own hands and smacks him on the forehead, resulting in him yelping and her going into a laughing fit that lasted a minute or so.

how unfortunate that his most precious takes pleasure in him being hurt.

his head snaps towards you, but he guesses that it makes sense since you also love teasing him so much.

a bunch of devils he says! two cute devils he laments.

GETO SUGURU:

geto is convinced that he was blessed with two angels, her cute little twins from his beautiful wife, you. he is also convinced that they would do no wrong—which is like what wrong can a baby a couple months old do anyway.

he ignores how gojo screams about being bullied by the girls, how that one mean babysitter was yapping about how they most definitely threw their toys at her intentionally, and how miguel syas that the girls always hide his glasses because they love seeing his stressed face.

to geto suguru, his daughters could do no wrong.

aside from that, he also noticed that his daughters love playing with hair, sometimes eating it which makes him scream but oh well.

for the most part, they know to treat their father’s hair gently as they watch you and himself do it.

that’s why he never thought that his darling angels would get their first belly laughs by pulling on his freaking bangs.

each twin holds one of the bangs and with all their baby power, they pull and pull almost like they want to tear it off his head.

and while he adores that his daughter are laughing so much—for the first time too—that they stumble back almost turn red, but he really doesn’t want to bald before heat least reaches his 50 or something.

another problem is that you never interfere unless he straight up screams for your help.

that made him realize how much of a common occurrence it is and he finally decided that he needed to put his foot down.

so he sat his girls down—including you because you’ve tolerated the violation of your husband’s hairline so much—and took a deep breath.

“girls, we need to learn that papa’s hair is fragile and we shouldn’t pull on it so much,” he turns to you with the quirk of an eyebrow. “right, honey?”

you barely hold back your smile before nodding and loyally supporting your husband, “why, of course, my love!”

he rolls his eyes, “so, be good girls and don’t pull on my bangs, please?”

one of the twins, while the other frowns and starts fussing. you lock eyes with your husband, and you both try to telepathically figure how to handle this, until your other twin starts crying.

now, you have two crying babies.

congratulations!

so your husband concedes and kneels in front of them, bravely offering his bangs. almost instantly, they stop crying and start pulling the bangs on their respective sides.

they start laughing and squealing again, and geto starts to think that balding is a small price to pay for his angels’ happiness.

he should probably stop calling them that though.

NANAMI KENTO:

now, in constrant to nanami, his daughter came out all bubbly and smiley, and it had nanami going as soft as a marshmallow.

it also didn’t help that d/n is convinced that her dad is indeed a marshmallow in which that she could only touch him softly.

she would gently pat his cheeks, press clumsy little kisses to his forehead, and squeal in order to cuddle with you or him. she also is extremely empathetic and starts crying whenever she sees someone hurt or genuinely frowning.

that was also the reason why gojo adored her since her crying cut anyone’s session of bullying him short. though, of course, he buys her a ton of toys to make up and comfort her.

he fails to realize that the true way to comfort her is to place in your arms or nanami’s.

like that one time when she bumped her head lightly and started crying profusely, throwing punches at gojo who was supposed to be babysitting her—poor choice but who am I to judge. she screamed and squirmed, demanding she be comforted.

however, none of the toys gojo bought were working.

and the two of you were called into a mission, so he literally is rendered helpless. that is until nanami returns a tad bit early than planned, and satoru couldn’t have been more relieved.

he hurriedly places d/n in kento’s arms, and the little girl takes a few seconds to realize who is holding her now.

she looks up, smiling at her dad. he instantly smiles back, “hey there,” he hums, “did you miss me?”

anyway back to what i was saying: a very sensitive and empathetic baby, right?

so when one day, you have your girl perched on your lap and nanami is going all out with scolding gojo, no one expects your daughter to burst one laughing.

you giggle, looking at her, “d/n, you like seeing papa scold uncle gojo?”

gojo gasps, “what?!”

you usher your husband, “babe, try it again!”

nanami nods with determination and gathers everything gojo ever bothered him with and translates it into a bunch of very child-friendly insults.

with each reproach, gojo deflates and d/n starts laughing more, squealing and wheezing. your husband abandons the crushed gojo and goes to hold d/n in his hands, “you okay there?”

she squeals and reaches for her feet, eyes never leaving her father’s. you coo, “she is so cute!”

“I never imagined my daughter would laugh at the sight of me, out of all people, scolding gojo.”

a very wounded gojo screams, “well I sure did! you family of haters!”

your husband frowns, but before he can talk, d/n cups his face and starts babbling a bunch of nonsense. nonetheless, your husband hangs onto every bit of said nonsense. 

gojo takes that chance to flee to the hills.

meanwhile, you’re holding a camera and recording the lecture(?) your tiny angel is giving your husband.

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

your baby is the son of the all-mighty king of curses.

the man who sends terrors throughout the lands, the mere sight of his face is enough to cause someone to pee themselves.

everyone cowers in front of him, except you and more recently his son. on the contrary, in fact, your son can’t help but cackle whenever his dad puts on his “scary” face.

the first time it ever happened was when you were strolling the palace with s/n in your arms.

you know not to enter the throne room whenever sukuna has the villagers over to “hear their complains” as it almost always ended with him slicing one part of their body off.

you figured that it would be okay to at least pass by it since they always had the door closed—that started when you gave birth—but to your surprise, the door was open this time, giving you and your son a front row seat to sukuna degrading his subject.

“you’re wasting my time,” your husband states, and the villagers starts panicking.

“a-apologies my lord, pl-please grant me a-another chance!”

your husband scowls, “and now you’re ordering me around?”

the villager starts crying and kneels to the ground. on the other hand, your son couldn’t have been laughing more. his laugh echoed so loudly in the room that it drew everyone’s attention.

sukuna stares at the baby in your arms and scowls again, “y/n, why is he here?”

your son squeals and starts laughing again, hiding his face in your chest. you light up at his laughter, and sukuna finds himself livid at how the scene makes him feel content—until he notices the villager staring at you as well, what a short-lived happiness.

swiftly, sukuna slashes the villagers into cubes, and your son—who came out of his hiding spot—bursts into a fit of giggles that has you wondering just how much of sukuna’s sadism was passed to your darling son.

while you ponder over that, sukuna quickly makes his way to you, dismissing all the servants and tasking them with taking out the trash.

when your husband is right in front of you, you look up at him with a frown, “my son is laughing at torture, sukuna.”

“he is probably laughing at how pathetic the man looked,” he says as he smirks and pulls you close.

you huff and bounce s/n lightly, “shut up, old man.”

sukuna quirks an eyebrow and leans to be on your eye level. his hand is placed on your head, and he threatens, “you’re insulting your husband?”

s/n gasps lightly before harshly latching on sukuna’s face, fingers digging into his second pair of eyes. sukuna does not give any reaction except standing up to his full height.

your son, however, is relentless and is still hanging onto your husband’s face.

you don’t know how to react. sukuna doesn’t know how to react.

s/n just lets out a series of battle cries.

FUSHIGURO TOJI:

if there is anything that toji is doubtful of is whether his son actually loves him or not.

why you ask? well, the only thing that gets the kid laughing—aside from you laughing or smiling—is literally any inconvenience that happens to him.

he remembers that one time when shiu was over to discuss some business, nothing out of the norm. megumi was on just sat on his high chair beside toji since you were at work.

toji was just sipping on his coffee when he burned his tongue, “gosh damn it!”

shiu was about to make fun of him, but megumi beat him to it as he started laughing heartily, even taking breaths in between to calm down but to no avail.

toji’s eyes widen as he stands up to go to his son, “no way you’re laughing at me getting—what the hell?!”

toji groans after he bumps into the table, glaring at his son who starts laughing all over again. meanwhile, shiu chuckles and teases toji, “I think your son just loves you so much, doesn’t he?”

your husband rises to his feet, quickly carrying megumi and lifting him in the air. he grumbles, “I want my wife back.”

another time was when you guys grocery shopping.

you had most of the list crossed out and the only thing left was the frozen vegetables. easy, right?

so you, your husband, and son quickly made your way to the section—since megumi wanted to go to the park later to play with yuuji.

megumi stays in your arms, while toji goes to grab them. considering how unlucky this man is, the bag slips from his hand and falls flat on his face, and it freaking stays there.

to your darling son, comedy had never reached this peak, so he lets out a guttural laugh.

you want to join in on the laughter, but you noticed that toji is standing still, with the bag on his face.

so you walk to him, gently taking off the bag and teasing him, “you okay, champ? that made quite the noise.”

“don’t even start,” he groans and buries his face in your shoulder, ignoring the wheezing megumi. he then starts complaining, “they keep whining about how he is a quiet and shy kid, but he sure ain’t with me.”

“isn’t that a good thing? It’s important for him to feel free around his dad.”

he turns his head towards you, a frown plastered on his face, “no kid laughs whenever his dad gets ridiculed by life.”

“you told me that you laughed when your dad fell down a flight of stairs,” you deadpan.

“that’s because my dad is an ass; I am not,” he pauses, “for the most part.”

apparently, megumi senses his dad’s distress and starts slowly patting his head, albeit shyly. he lowers his gaze and mumbles, “so’y.”

toji’s eyes widen and he is frozen in place for a moment. your son takes note of that and starts staring him in the eye, waiting for his reaction.

your husband doesn’t take long for a small smile to break out as he lets a small sigh, “’s okay kid,” he hums and pets his head.

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[finniestoncrane]

Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3

Different Up Here

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly

If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.

"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"

Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.

"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."

A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.

"Heh, that's a new one for out here."

Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.

"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"

"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."

"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."

You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.

That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.

Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.

"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"

Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.

"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."

You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.

"No, no no no no no. Just..."

The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.

"... fooling around... y'know?"

Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.

"Oh... oh darlin'."

He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.

"I don't think you're ready for that at all."

You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.

"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"

"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"

"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."

Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.

"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."

"Why? Sex is sex..."

You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.

"... Isn't it?"

"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."

The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.

"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."

His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.

"No, sir."

"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"

As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, sir."

You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.

You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.

And luckily, he seemed agreeable.

"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"

Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.

It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.

"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."

"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"

Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.

"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."

His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.

"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."

"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"

Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.

"Well, it's something like this."

He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.

Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.

Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.

"Well?"

"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."

"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"

He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.

"You like that? Like it rough?"

"I think... I think I like both."

"So, something like this?"

He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.

You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.

"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."

Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.

"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."

His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.

"Did they make you feel good?"

"No."

You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.

"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"

"A little..."

Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.

"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."

His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.

“And what about these pretty lips?”

Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.

“They touch these lips, huh?”

You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.

“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”

As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.

“Do it slowly though.”

Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.

“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”

You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.

“Turn around though. You face that way.”

The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.

“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”

A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.

The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.

It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.

“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”

His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.

“Don’t you dare, little lady.”

“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”

He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.

“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”

“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”

“I absolutely will not.”

Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.

Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.

“I am warning you, missy.”

“Cooper… I can’t stop…”

You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.

“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”

“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”

Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.

“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”

“Cooper…”

“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”

“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”

“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”

The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.

“Come on, darlin’, come on…”

Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.

As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.

“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”

You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.

“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”

As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.

“Alright then, get onto your knees.”

Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.

You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.

It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.

“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”

The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.

He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.

“Can I taste it… you?”

Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.

“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”

You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.

A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way.  Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.

Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.

“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”

He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.

“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”

You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.

“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”

It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.

“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”

Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.

He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.

“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”

You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.

Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.

And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.

“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”

He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.

“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”

“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”

“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”

You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.

Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.

“Bigger than before?”

You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.

“Better?”

“Mhm…”

“Speak up, darlin’.”

With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.

“Yes… it’s better.”

“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”

Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.

“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”

“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”

Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.

“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”

You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.

“Ah… Cooper…”

“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”

There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.

“A little…”

Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.

His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.

“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”

He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.

“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”

You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.

“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”

With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.

“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl…  good girl…”

It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.

And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.

You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.

“Did I say you could get up?”

Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.

“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”

Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.

“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”

Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.

When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.

“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”

“M-more?”

More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.

“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (4)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Ewan wants to clear things up about the night out and his mystery companion, and the reader gets another surprise in LA. Will the two finally have their first date or will something get in the way once more?

Ewan's publicist Donna has never had any issue with her client before. Always present and accounted for, on time for whatever interview, photoshoot or audition he has booked for the day.

But she hasn't been able to get a hold of him in the past two days, which is worrying her to no end, because he is set to meet with a major casting director in New York some time in the coming week.

Donna may have a clue as to why. It's only been two days as well since the pub incident, when The Sun ran a story speculating on Ewan's lovelife - the exact kind of thing he's always been trying to avoid.

It had taken a life of its own, with fans taking it upon themselves to track down every clue of the girl on the internet. Her instagram. Her relation to the cast - apparently she is a cousin of Luke and Elliott. Even the marketing agency where she works. Louise, a 26-year old graphic designer, admittedly harbours a crush on Ewan, and when she heard that her cousins were hanging out with him at a pub nearby, she almost immediately invited herself and her friends over.

But that's all, according to Ewan. After talking to Luke, memories of the night came rushing back to him.

Stumbling out in the alley to send you that voice message. Rejoining the boys to see that they've got new company. Being introduced to Louise, with Tom joking that he should be careful with the missus. Wouldn't want her - you - to think that he's flirting with anyone else.

Even though that's exactly what happened. Not the flirting, per se. Not from Ewan's side, at least. Louise had been brazen with admiration, barely leaving his side the rest of the night. Asking him a bunch of probing questions he had neither the interest nor the patience to answer.

They had all thought the pub was safe from prying eyes. No one approached them for anything, not even a single look of recognition followed by the question, “Are you that guy from House of the Dragon?” Unfortunately, it only takes one rat for a headline to surface. Ewan Mitchell’s mystery girl has been the talk of the fandom and Donna has been trying hard to quell the rumours. 

Such is the nasty nature of the business, as she knows Ewan has quickly learned.

She dials him again, and to her surprise, the call actually patches through.

Her client's throaty voice is heard on the other line, "Hey, Donna, sorry if I've missed your calls."

"It's alright, it's alright, Ewan," Donna stammers. "Just glad to hear from you. Where are you? I've managed to do some damage control about those rumours and - "

"Oh, I'm in LA. I just landed about an hour ago," Ewan responds casually, not mirroring the stress in Donna's tone. Has he gotten over the fuss so easily?

"LA? You know your meeting is not till next week, right? And it's in New York. It's very, very important that you don't miss it, Ewan."

"And I won't," Ewan affirms, laughing dryly to console his worried publicist. "I just need to see about something over here."

Someone, he thinks. He's got his priorities straight.

"Work-related?" Donna asks, curious.

"Uhhhm," Ewan dithers, but decides against telling her about you. Not just yet. "Just visiting a friend. I'll stay here for a while then fly out to New York, don't worry."

"Okay, just keep in touch, alright? I'll send more details about the meeting soon."

"Sure thing. Thank you, Donna."

"Talk soon, Ewan. Take care of yourself."

Donna feels a huge sense of relief wash over her when the call ends, knowing the whereabouts of one of her biggest clients. But why LA? Perhaps Ewan just needed some time off after the flurry of annoying headlines put out in the UK.

Or maybe he's visiting with a friend? Who is stateside right now? Fabien's filming in Philly. The rest of the boys are still in England. But then...

Her thoughts land on the one thing - the one person - that would make him fly out on such short notice. Without giving thought to anything else, especially after the speculation on his romantic life.

Ewan's never been one to share about personal affairs, not even to his close-knit team, but no matter how reclusive he is, no one can deny the way he looks at you. The way he lights up when you're brought up in conversation. The number of times he had excused himself from their meetings to make a call, standing in the corner with a permanent smile etched on his face.

Oh, Donna knows now just who he is in LA for.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Like inevitable spectres haunting someone of his profession, Ewan noticed the papparazzi snapping away as he arrived in LA.

He told no one he would be coming, so it must be an automatic thing in the city. The photogs are always scurrying in the periphery, ready to catch anyone of note, no matter the degree of fame or notoriety.

If you were keeping up with such news, you would know he is in the city.

But according to your assistant Clara, who was kind enough to inform him of your schedule, you are still finishing up on another day of rehearsals for your upcoming rom-com. Ewan checked in the same hotel as you, planning to seek you out as soon as you arrive back from work.

He hasn't spoken to you since the voicemail, and since those false news broke out. Not that he can blame you - wouldn't anyone be suspicious of a drunken confession made by a guy who was allegedly in the company of another girl?

He hates it, being subject to all of this. This nonsense that is keeping you from him, not even worth any consequence.

But he will deal with the blows. As long as he sets things right with you. As long he gets you in the end.

He settles in his suite, getting ready to meet with you once more. He showers, shaves, tousles his hair. He even checks whether he smells decent after all of that - once, twice, and another time. Being nervous to stand in front of a crowd is one thing; it's a whole other conundrum for him finally see you again.

Maybe the crowds are more manageable, and it baffles him to realise so. He can put on a persona, be the actor, and disappear inside himself as the cameras flash bright enough for him to disassociate.

But not with you. He wants to show you everything that he is, who he truly is, and it scares him. There is no team to help him get ready now. It's all him, just Ewan.

Clad in his trusty black jeans and a comfortable hoodie of the same dark colour, he looks in the mirror one last time after receiving a text from Clara that you've arrived at the hotel about half an hour ago.

He contemplates opening the bottle of bourbon from the minibar and taking a shot of liquid courage - something to help him get his explanation ready. Just so he wouldn't stammer in front of you.

Just so you he can make you see, without any error or trace of doubt, that he meant every word in that voicemail, no matter how embarrassing it might have sounded.

He decides against it, imagining the wrinkling of your nose as you catch a whiff of the alcohol. It's cute when you do it, and he adores it so dearly, but he knows that it isn't the right moment.

He rights himself, rolls his shoulders, and he's out the door.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Jacob trails you inside your hotel suite, laughing at some shared remark about the scenes you rehearsed for the day.

They were emotionally demanding and even after tossing around ideas for hours, the two of you were unable to achieve a satisfying approach to the scenes.

Which is why he had proposed practicing well into the evening, and you found yourselves heading back to your suite together. He has his own house in LA, but your hotel just happened to be closer to the rehearsal studio.

"Care for a drink?" you asked him.

"Why the hell not?" he immediately assents in that easy, Aussie drawl. "We might need it for this shite."

You laugh in agreement, "Indeed. I've got some canned gin and tonics if that's alright.. or beer... or whiskey... " you trail off as you study the contents of your fridge.

"G and t, please, mate," he settles down on the couch, legs stretching in front of him. "We were so unproductive today. I just could not get that line right."

"Tell me about it." You hand him his drink, and he clinks it with yours with a mumbled cheers. "It was me who can't land the right tone," you say. "I mean, is my character supposed to be confused in that moment? Or angry? Or sad?"

"Or all of 'em." he shrugs. "Tricky, isn't it?"

You hurriedly fetch your script from a table, getting right down to it. "So for the first scene in the third act..."

Moments later, with cans of gin and tonic discarded on the coffee table, you and Jacob sit with legs crossed on the couch facing each other. Scripts in hand, you go through the lines over and over, with only seemingly minor tweaks each time. To an actor though, even just the slightest change of pitch or expression makes all the difference.

"Is that better? I think we almost got it," you say after a read-through.

"Yeah, so much better," he grins, holding his hand up for a high-five. Just as your hands smack in the air, another sound echoes faintly from the door.

"Someone's knocking?" Jacob asks. "You expecting anybody? Room service or anything?"

"No," you shake your head, trying to think of whether your assistant or publicist said anything about dropping by. "Maybe it's just housekeeping?"

"I'll get it," Jacob states, already padding his way to the door.

A beat later, you hear Jacob loudly exclaim, "Ewan, mate! It's good to see you!"

Ewan? A shiver runs up your spine. Craning your neck to get a view of a doorway, you catch sight of him, half-obscured by Jacob's tall frame.

Confused, surprised, and feeling some other emotion you can't pinpoint, you head over to greet him.

"How are you doing?" Jacob greets, shaking Ewan's hand, oblivious to the poorly hidden distaste in his eyes.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" Ewan finds himself asking Jacob, a bit rudely, just as you ask him the same.

"What are you doing here?" you mirror his question at the exact same time.

"Oh!" Jacob breathes out a laugh, "Well, I'll go first. We were just practicing lines."

"In her room? Isn't it a bit late for rehearsal? I thought you're supposed to be off work." Ewan asks, and it sounds like an accusation. He starts to feel all kinds of uneasy - were the twins right about life imitating art?

You narrow your eyes at him. "We decided to continue running lines after rehearsal. There's a scene we can't get right. It's quite tricky - "

"Just the two of you? Alone, here?" Ewan tilts his head, gesturing towards the room like it's some forbidden place.

Jacob shakes his head, smile steady on his lips. If he's caught on to how Ewan must be feeling, he doesn't let it affect him. He gives you a look, as if to check your reaction, and you give him a reassuring shrug.

Ewan does not overlook this exchange. He clenches his jaw, irate from the assumptions popping up in his mind. Before he forgets his manners, he says, "Excuse me, I just... wasn't expecting... I just wanted to speak to you."

"I didn't even know you were in LA," you say, before moving aside to usher him in. "But I'm glad you are, of course. Come join us - "

He nods, making his way to the seating area, where he spies the discarded cans of alcohol and dog-eared scripts. Maybe he should have taken that bloody shot after all.

He laughs joylessly to himself, shaking his head. "Sorry, you guys. I just flew in today, and I must have been exhausted from the flight."

"Hey, no worries, mate," Jacob says. "You know what, I'll be on my way. Give you time to catch up and all." He picks up his own tattered script then gives you a kiss on the cheek, bidding you with a, "I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good night, sweetheart."

If looks could kill, and if his dear mother hadn't raised him right, he would have incinerated Jacob in that moment.

He is snapped out of his thoughts when Jacob claps him on the shoulder, "Great to see you again, mate. Have a good night, eh?"

Ewan knows he's being ridiculous. There's nothing wrong with two friends and co-stars spending some time alone to rehearse. Besides, last he heard, you were adamant that you and Jacob are just friends.

So why is he being so irrational? Why does the idea of you spending more time than necessary with Jacob, possibly falling for him, bother him so much?

Ewan realises that this is what jealousy must feel like.

He's had career envy before. Another actor landing a role he vied for. Someone else getting the praise he deserves.

But nothing like this. It's petty and possessive.

He wants you to just be his.

You stand in front of him once more after you walk Jacob out of the suite.

"Hey," you say, smiling weakly.

"Hi, darling."

Both of you want to do more. Say more. Usually you would greet each other with a hug and a kiss on a cheek, his hands lingering on your forearms even after you pull away, but the air is thick with tension.

You look at him with those bright, expecting eyes of yours, and Ewan just wants to cave in and make a sloppy confession. But not after that voicemail, no. He's determined to do this right. Words not slurred, head clear.

"So I got your voicemail," you finally say, smiling coyly. "That was... something."

"Hmm," he can't help but mirror your smile, as always. "It was, wasn't it?"

"I understand," you continue, taking a step closer, "if you were drunk. We all say things when we're off it that we maybe don't mean - "

"But darling, I meant every word," he says, way too quickly.

You laugh, the sound of it erasing whatever apprehension remained in him. "Do you even remember what you said?"

"I do," he counters, moving even closer to you. Another step and he'd be able to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to him. "At least, some of - no - most of it."

"Oh yeah?" you ask cheekily, aided by the effect of gin. He still has your heart racing, but a part of you now knows that the feeling is mutual. "What did you say again?"

He sees that glint in your eye, and it causes him to smirk. "Why don't I make it simple for you, darling?" He closes the distance, one hand brushing the hair from your face.

"Okay," you swallow, getting lost in his blues.

"I missed you." He kisses your cheek. "I like you. A lot." He kisses the other. "And I, uh, I would like to take you on a date."

His eyes meet yours. His voice is steady, but you notice some nervousness in his gaze. How the tables have turned. You make Ewan Mitchell's heart go awry.

"Please, darling?" he timidly adds, the sentiment so sweet you want to blurt out yes immediately. Before you can, he's already leaned back, an explanation rushing out of his lips, "And... I'm not sure but you must have seen those headlines? They're not true, I swear. We were out drinking and - "

"I know, Ewan." You cut him off with a hand pressed gently on his chest but he keeps going.

" - some other people joined us. One of them being - "

"Luke and Elliott's cousin. I know. Elliott called and told me everything."

"Oh. He called you?" A huge sense of relief washes over him, better than any comfort he might have found in a shot or three of bourbon.

"Mhmm, he called me yesterday. So, you know, you didn't really have to fly out. I was about to call you eventually."

He smiles bashfully, eyes cast down as a blush spreads across his cheeks. Damn it, Elliott, you brilliant lad. He reminds himself to treat Elliott to a pint the next time he sees him.

"I still wanted to see you," Ewan maintains, pressing a kiss to your forehead and you're immediately enveloped by the familiar comfort of his scent. Surprisingly without the staple hint of cigarette smoke, due to his frantic scrubbing after the flight.

"I'm happy you're here," you say, wrapping your arms around his waist, cheek pressed against his chest. "And no offence to Louise or anything, but she needs to learn some boundaries with my - "

Ewan looks down at you fondly, squeezing your arms to prompt your next words, "Yeah, darling? Your what?"

"My - " you attempt to bury your face in his hoodie, but he keeps your gaze with a hand cupping your jaw. So you end up saving yourself with " - my Aemond."

"Hmm," he hums, lips curling, and it's so very Aemond of him it makes you feel warm all over. "Your Aemond.Your Ewan. I'm all yours, love."

The whole thing couldn't have gone any better, all things considered, and Ewan feels content to have gotten over his first brush with the rumour mill. What matters is right in front of him, and you know the truth.

"Are you staying in this hotel? How did you even know I was here?" You take his hand, guiding him over to the couch.

"Clara," is all Ewan says by way of explanation.

"Well, thank you, Clara," you declare. Ewan shuffles closer to you and rests his arm around your shoulders, planting a kiss on your forehead again. The gesture is already becoming instinctive, providing the both of you with a sense of ease.

"Darling?"

"Yeah?" you respond absentmindedly, fingers toying with the soft fabric of his hoodie.

"Is that a yes?"

You exhale deeply. As if it wasn't clear enough already. "What do you think, handsome?"

"I don't know, angel. You tell me," he counters cheekily, his fingers playing with your hair as you playfully glare at him.

"What if I say no, baby?"

"Then I'll have to work hard to change your mind, princess."

"And how would you do that, honey?"

His gaze darkens, and something flashes across his blue eyes as he whispers intensely, "Use your imagination, bunny."

"Ri-right," you bite your lip, then shake your head to snap out of it. "We'll have to draw the line at bunny."

He laughs at your flustered state, pleased by the effect he has on you. "What's wrong with bunny?"

That elicits a groan out of you, but you smile anyway. "I already said yes, Ewan. Quit it with the bunny."

"Alright, beautiful," he relents, making you lean even closer against him.

The haze of gin after a long work day starts to subside and the rush of emotion is coming back to you. You find yourself gazing at Ewan in mild disbelief, in awe that he just confessed that he wants you.

Feeling antsy, you stand and pace around the room. You start tidying things, putting your scattered knick-knacks back in your handbag. If you sit with him any longer, you just might end up hurrying things through and jump his bones already, kiss him the next time he does that hmm.

"Can I get you anything?" you ask.

"No," he says smoothly. "I just need you." The words make you stop in your tracks. He still sits in the same position, looking at you with that undeniable desire in his eyes.

"Uhhhm," your mouth feels dry all of the sudden. Nothing his tongue past your lips can't fix, your intrusive thoughts barge right in. "So... the... the media rollout's still going on isn't it? Should we check and see?" You take your laptop and plop back down next to him. He doesn't miss a beat and cuddles against you once more, wrapping his arm around your tense frame.

"I think so, darling." The media rollout is how the interviews and promotional material filmed by the cast is being released gradually, on a weekly basis, after each new episode comes out.

A simple search on Youtube confirms it, and the first thing that popped up is the Where is The Lie? video you did for Elle.

It was slated for just Tom, Phia, and Ewan but your Blackwood character became such a fan-favourite that they asked you to join in. Not to mention the frenzy you and Ewan caused online with the initial interviews you did together.

"Shall we watch this?" Ewan offers, solely for the intent of seeing you in the video.

You click on it, and for the next 8 minutes or so, all you can take note of are the signs that had clearly already been there. The fans were on to something when they claimed that you and Ewan are a really good ship.

The video starts with a clip of Phia hitting her head on the overhead lamp when she stands, prompting her to uncontrollably giggle along with you and Tom. Ewan, being the exception, is beside himself with worry, and he appears to instinctively reach for your hand as you sit beside him.

"Huh," Ewan smiles, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

Tom is the first to be put on the hot seat, and he slowly recites the three statements he prepared. "Ewan, pay attention," Tom blurts out when he notices that Ewan kept sneaking glances at you. "Sure, I'm locked in," Ewan says right back, as you and Phia share a look.

"What were you looking at?" you ask playfully, poking him in the side. "You seem plenty distracted there."

He snorts at himself in the video, when he ends up smiling as he caught your eye. "It was your fault. You were distracting me."

"I was not!" you exclaim. "I thought you were just being competitive then."

Phia is next to have a go. She tells you of a Wifi repellent necklace, a wrestling career, and saving a squirrel from a drainpipe. "The Wifi thing sounds like something Ewan would have," Tom jokes. "Oh sure," you concur, "except that he'd actually keep it so he can watch films." Ewan smiles at your acute observation.

"I'd also keep it to stalk your Instagram," Ewan mumbles from beside you. "And you know, just stalk you in general."

"I'm sure you do, Mitchell," you respond casually, but your face warms up anyhow.

It's Ewan's turn, and as he sits on the hot seat, you see Tom and Phia casting a look at each other then at the two of you, a secret message shared between them. "I bet she will know the answer right away," Phia says. "Yeah, how do we know the two of you didn't conspire together?" Tom asks. "Are you kidding me, you guys?" you laugh at them, thinking how silly they were being, not knowing then that they were definitely on to something.

"Darling, you have to know this," Ewan tells you specifically as you all try to guess the answer. "Oh, darling!" Tom mouths to Phia, dramatically flipping nonexistent long hair over his shoulder. Phia laughs at his antics, before nudging you and saying, "Which one is it? Which is the lie? I trust you." You respond, "Why me? You two should know this too!"

"Because I wasn't trying to date them, my love," Ewan says, smiling at the screen.

"Oh, come on now." You crane your neck up to press a soft kiss against his cheek before turning your attention back to the video. So you don't notice the switch in Ewan's breathing. The jumps in his heartbeart. The way he subtly clears his throat to deal with his flustered state.

The video comes to a close after your turn and even at the very end, Ewan can be seen admiring you as you give the closing remarks with Phia.

Admiring you, as he does in the moment.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he says, when you turn to look at him.

"Thank you," you reply softly, your voice barely audible.

Some time passes with the two of you catching up, talking about your upcoming projects, his big meeting in New York - all the while his fingers trace patterns on your exposed skin, his arm wrapped around you snugly.

"Have you been keeping up with the show?" he asks.

"The last episode I saw fully was... the second one? I got pretty busy after that. How about you?"

"Oh," he looks down in thought, piquing your curiosity, "so you didn't get to see the third episode yet then?"

"No, not yet," you shake your head, "but I've seen some stuff here and there."

He hums again and he wants to ask, have you seen his stuff? There are around a dozen or so potential jokes at play here. He has an inkling to tell you to watch the episode so you can see just what you're in for. So you can see him and all he has to offer. He'd also fumble through a justification, as he had done in some interview, about the new studio they had filmed in being cold as a fridge freezer.

What to say? What to say? He picks at some lint on his jeans, smirking to himself.

"Yeah," you eventually giggle at his obvious hesitation. "I've only seen some of the episode. But what I've seen... is enough to make me jealous of Madame Sylvie."

He stiffens, throat suddenly dry, but one look at your smile does away with his concerns.

He soon finds himself laughing, a muffled, "Oh, darling," whispered lovingly against your hair.

"That was very brave of you, Ewan," you express sincerely.

"Thank you, love."

"So... just how cold was it in there?"

Your shared, unrestrained laughter echo throughout the room.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Your first date was meant to happen the following night, but such is the nature of the job that Ewan's schedule gets moved up all of a sudden.

Once the bigshot casting director in New York found out that Ewan is already stateside, he requested that the meeting be held at the earliest possible opportunity.

He calls you while you are in rehearsals, profusely apologizing and promising to fly back to LA in the next two days, right after his meeting is all sorted.

"It's okay, Ewan," you reassure him, genuinely understanding. "I will see you when you come back. Good luck, I know you're going to smash it, whatever opportunity this is!"

"Thank you, darling," he says, already wanting to have you back in his arms already, mentally kicking himself for not kissing you when he had about a hundred chances to do so. "I'm going to miss you."

"I'll miss you too," you respond, blushing silly with the phone pressed to your ear. "But it'll only be two days."

"Hmm, doesn't matter. I need to take you on our bloody date, darling. I've already taken so damn long."

"Don't worry," you say, "I've already seen you way more than I should before the first date."

"Wha - " a protest forms on his lips, but he gets your point right away. "Oh. Clever, darling."

"I know."

"But I'm planning to give you something that's just for you. That the whole world won't ever be privy to."

You swallow hard, your very being heating up at his insinuation. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Mitchell."

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see."

Bonus chapter!

Nocturnal file 🤫

💌 next chapter

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The cast's Where is The Lie? video is an actual thing! I hope yous got the reference!

Notice how the two nerve-wrecked shites didn't have their first proper kiss yet??? Will they ever?? 😩😩😩

Taglist is officially closed for this one. Please bookmark this series or the masterlist (or follow my page) to keep up with updates <3

I can't even overstate how mad all the love for this series has been! I'm always looking forward to hearing from you guys - suggestions, comments, complaints are always welcome!

See you in part five! (preview: something will happen in NY that might cause Ewan to question things!)

[bigfatbimbo]

Take a Bite

1.5k words,, Bill Cipher x Reader

summary — Bill and the reader have sex, which has proven to be very difficult seeing as he isn’t doing anything, and, of course, things are never easy with that insufferable brat.

warnings — SMUT, bill being annoying and toxic, dom!reader, sub!Bill, heavy pain kink, bill’s human form, the fat fuck not the twink

a/n — Admittedly, this fic only happened because I never see Bill sub in fanfics and i’m very interested in what the dynamic would be. You’d be like… domming with a risk of death.

“Well, slick,” Bill leaned back and gestured up and down his body, “Give it your all.”

Amusement was thick in his voice, along with bubbling giddiness. He fumbled with the seams on his pants, not out of nervousness, but as if he had forgotten how to take them off and was looking for some kind of zipper. One, admittedly, that he would not find on slacks. 

“Wow, human clothes are just as bad as the fleshbags. So needlessly complicated,” He sounded on the verge of a laughing fit, “Oh, and toots? Before you dig in, remember to leave marks. I wanna see how durable this thing is.” 

His amusement was not matched on your part. The situation invoked dull curiosity at best, in your opinion. The idea of harboring a wanted criminal, ex-overlord, god-like demon in your house challenged your idea of a good time. Having sex with that demon was even harder to swallow.

Then again, any situation with bill warranted an ungodly amount of stress. 

“Whatcha’ thinking about over there, sweet-cheeks?”

You smiled at that; of the few advantages you have, being in gravity falls for weirdmageddon proved to be one of them. You know of his powers, and with that, vague guesses on how to prevent them.

Tinfoil-lined bobbie pins were one of them. A guess, granted, but a good one at that. Really, not that complicated when you recall every alien movie you’ve ever watched. 

“Upset you can’t tell?” 

He laughed, “Upset for you, maybe. Trust me, it’d be so much easier for both of us if I could just read your thoughts. I’m already your roommate, how much closer could we ge- Ah.”

You brushed his pants crotch, and began to unbutton. For all his mightiness, the guy couldn’t work pants. “Careful, human body’s are touchy.” 

“Touchy,” He repeated, “Tell me about.” 

Getting his pants off was a task harder than it should have been, no thanks to Bill, who seemed to have taken to just lying there, occasionally flicking you, and then himself. 

When you finally peeled all of his clothes off, you warned him to brace himself, to which he ignored you. On top of that, the entire time Bill had been talking, droning on about ‘the last time he’d been in a human body.’

You wondered vaguely if he’d ever done this with someone else. In the time he’d been at your house he’d mentioned some ‘sixer’ ex-thing-ish of his. But you doubt he’d done anything with him.

As he’d mentioned, he hadn’t perfected his human form until very recently. Perfected is a strong word, he was pudgy and short, remanisent of a human peanut. And his teeth were terrible. 

Either way, you’d gotten him ready, and began your work. Laying a light finger on the tip of his dick, and running it down the base of his length, you got Bills first reaction: a short sniff.

Recovering fast, he adjusted his seat, “Yeah, tick tock, toots. This better be good.” 

It was his idea, you thought, but continued. Your fingers wrapped around the entirety of his cock and you began to stroke it. 

A sigh left Bills mouth, “Oh, this does have a kick to it. Maybe you’re not so bad, after all.”

Over the course of the next few minutes, you’d grow angrier and angrier. Although you were clearing making him feel good, he’d never shut his snide mouth for two seconds. 

“Jesus, slow down, pal— I just perfected this flesh-bag, at this rate your gonna break something—“ 

You didn’t realize how much your hand sped up. You thought for a moment, before completely stopping. Bill looked taken aback.

“Hey! what’s the—“

Without warning you grabbed his dick with full force and squeezed. He yelped, before giggling at the hurt.

This made you more mad, “God, do you ever shut up? I wish you’d lost your voice when you lost Gravity Falls.”

He stopped giggling. “I’d watch what you say, if I was you, kid.”

You threw your head back and laughed, running your hand slowly up his dick and then slamming back to the base of his cock. Finally, a reaction other than knowing bliss: anger. Weakness.

“Oh dear god, rearrange the features of my face then, Billy. See if I give a shit when you don’t have a place to live.”

His face turned red with rage, and he recoiled at the mention of your upperhand. And then, finally, at the slowing of your hand, a small, wavering whimper. 

You both caught it, and he was quick to put a hand of his mouth, “Sensitive human bodies - Hey, don’t look at me like that, that was not my fault.”

“God, you’re such a brat.”

“Oh please, what are you gonna do about it?” And he was completely serious.

Without much hesitation, you took the moment as an opportunity to abruptly sink yourself onto his dick. He sucked in a breath but you didn’t give him much time to do anything else.

“Ah- Now we’re talki—“ You slapped him hard across the face, and grabbed his cheeks with your hand, squishing them together, mockingly. Stifled laughter from Bill. 

“This is the form you spent all that time perfecting? I can barely feel anything. It’s worthless!” You sped up riding him, loosening your face to give the illusion you were bored, “You’re worthless.” 

His eyebrows arched down and his eyes widened, “I can kill you with a snap of my fingers! You think I need this sex— You think I need this hous— ah, ah—“

The unknown pleasure was getting to him, making his brain foggier than usual, and it was showing. Human senses were a key factor in your ability to keep the high-ground. Just as long as it felt good enough, he wouldn’t go back to his original form and… well. 

You wondered vaguely if you were actually going to be in mortal parole after this. But then again, the look on his face was almost euphoric, despite the anger. Thankfully, Bill was selfish, he’d probably chase the high again

You sighed, “Oh, you do need this house, Billy. Where else would you go? Everyone else in town has already forgotten about you, and your little maniac friends are no where to be seen.”

You sped up once more as your hands danced up his body, and continued, “With this whole out-of-sight-out-of-mind routine, i’m giving you something you won’t be getting anywhere else: attention.”

“You— Ah, curse this feeble human body! I’ll make your life a living hell-“ He whined, actually whined. 

Slamming yourself down on him, he cried out and then scowled. You raked your nails down his chest, deep enough to bleed, drawing out a  giggle from Bill as he felt the littlest bit of blood start to pool.

“You’re lucky this meatbag is— ah— funny enough—“ He was cut off with a gargle as a your hand sharply wrapped around his throat, and squeezed tight. 

“It’s not luck, i’m good at what I do, Billy. Not that you would know what that’s like, you pathetic shitbag,” although that insult wasn’t particularly true, you didn’t give him a chance to snap back, and instead put your other hand on his neck as well. 

You rode him with more speed than ever now. His eyes fluttered open and shut slowly, and he leaned into your hands. 

His face flushed, but a dreamy smile spread to the edges of his face as you made sure to leave bruise marks on his throat, still slamming against him. 

Although, you didn’t want to actually break him, so when his face began to turn purple, you let go. He gasped for air and let out a raspy, crazed giggle that went on for too long, and ending in a moan.

“I’m— “ Bills eyebrows furrowed, as if he was trying to decipher what the amusing thing the human body had planned next, “Somethings— somethings happening.”

His voice was broken, neck bruised, cheek red with a slap mark, eyes foggy, and chest bleeding from your nails. 

Before you dig in, remember to leave marks. I wanna see how durable this thing is.

Clearly you’d kept your end of the deal, and from what you’ve gathered it was time for the finale. You chased your own climax now as well, even though, admittedly, you hadn’t been thinking about it the whole session.

Annoying as it was that Bill still managed to make something all about him —and he definitely knew, mind reading or not— you still kept up your pace. 

“You’re close?” 

He smiled blissfully, and nodded.

What the hell. You smiled, “Good boy.”

His reaction was… startling. He leaned his head back, let out a small half-whine half-laugh, and arched off the bed. Finally, he released.

[luveline]

Okay, I would love to see an Aaron Hotchner x anemic bombshell!reader (lmao) who gets randomly faint and Aaron freaks <3

“This is oh so difficult,” you say under your breath, a sing-song tone to your voice. You often talk in juxtapositions, unhappy words in silk, cheerful worrying. “This is… stressful.” 

“You don't look stressed,” Spencer says. 

You elbow at him affectionately. “Do I ever? Sweetheart, there's nothing ever so stressful as to wear it on your face. Now come here, you have a pen smudge on your cheek.” 

Hotch could pinch the back of your shirt to stop you, but Spencer holds out a hand to brace you away from him like a disgruntled younger sibling while you laugh and reach for him. 

“Cut it out,” Gideon says. 

“Yes, boss.” 

Hotch turns away from you both to hide his smile. The case is long (as always), difficult (as always), and getting more and more serious as days pass. There hasn't been much time to pause and take stock, and so your playfulness comes at a great time —you need moments of fun like this to stop the weight of the inevitable dragging you down hard.

Your playfulness is unfailing. “So,” you say, quieter now to avoid Gideon’s attention while you lean into Hotch's personal bubble, “what will you make me for dinner?” 

“The same thing I've made you for the last four days.” 

“Ah. Nothing, then.” You tip your head to one side. 

“What?” 

“Nothing. Just feeling kinda weird. I really am hungry, handsome, and you aren't very gentlemanly in letting me starve.” You share a smile. You say everything so particularly, it only serves to endear you to him more and more. It's like… you're just sure of yourself, and in love with the world, and at least a little in love with him. Having you here with him makes the job easier. 

“You're hungry?” he asks, standing up. He expects no answer, nor for you to stand, but you clamber onto your feet quick as anything with wide eyes. 

“I was only–” You pause. 

Hotch can see the moment you lose sight of where you are, that far away gloss to your eyes, the rapid blinking that follows, and your hand thrown out to his too quickly. You grab at his arm roughly and he's crueller in his reaction, grabbing you under the arms with a startled, “Hey.” 

“Is she alright?” Spencer asks, his chair smacking the desk as he stands. 

Your lips pull down into a frown, eyes squeezed closed. He's startled —Hotch didn't even know you could frown outside of a joke. You're feeling that heavy, sudden wrongness that comes with being faint, he'd guess. 

He rides it out with you, holding you tight. After a few moments your eyes peel open, a spark of upset about you that quickly lends to sheepishness. “Oh, sorry,” you say softly. 

“Don't be.” 

You gather your bearings. Hotch moves his hands to a more amicable place on your arms, more to comfort than to hold, while Spencer stands and offers you his bottle of water. 

“She good?” Gideon asks Hotch. 

That perks you up. “I'm always good, sir,” you say, sending a smile at your boss from over your shoulder. “Just flirting with Agent Hotchner.” 

“Did you take your medication?” Hotch asks, cutting the fat of the conversation clean off. 

“Yeah, I never miss it.” 

He is admittedly more concerned about you than one coworker would be for another after a dizzy spell, but you aren't just a coworker. Hotch cups your cheek quickly in his hand to gauge your temperature and deduces from there that it isn't a sickness. 

“You weren't exaggerating about being starved,” he decides. Your iron pills do so much, and you have to do the rest. “Reid, what foods help with anaemia?” 

“Anything rich in iron. Red meat, pork, poultry, dark greens, especially spinach. All kinds of beans,” Spencer reels off. 

“Any of that sounds good to you?” Hotch asks, giving your arm a gentle squeeze. 

You meet his lowbrow with softer eyes, nodding your appreciation. Your lips part to answer him, but you're cut off. “Be quick about it,” Gideon says, glasses slipping down his nose as he turns back to his case file, “we have a lot to do.” 

Hotch buys you a burrito for the iron and a smoothie because you deserve it. You kiss his cheek, and apparently he deserves that for being ‘such a sweetheart’. He doesn't bother pretending he doesn't want it, or the second or third kiss that comes after.

[nathaslosthershit]

Red, White, and Williams' Blue (LS2)

(Part 4 of the Blind Item Series)

Summary: What happens when the American driver gets outed for dating one of Monaco's It girls who also happens to be the younger sister to one of the Ferrari drivers?

She had feared telling her brothers. She knew they would be mad. Not because they didn’t like Logan, they really didn’t know him, but she was sure they would love him in no time. But because she had sat through lecture upon lecture from her family about never dating a motorsport driver. Their logic was that they could never give her a stable life she deserved and knew she wanted. She was already stressed every race weekend praying Charles and Arthur would be okay, they had lost enough loved ones in the past, why add another? That was till she met Logan. The Florida native was unlike many she had met. He was kind, quiet, not starstruck by her last name, and very, very handsome. She was proud to be with him and was excited to eventually go public but she first needed her family to know.

When she saw the tweet, she practically felt the color drain from her face. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Tears threatened to fall when she thought of how betrayed her family must feel.

She knew she had to see them.

Quickly calling Logan to tell him what happened, as he always tried his best to stay off social media, she tells him to meet her at her mom’s house, as they had been vacationing in Monaco so she could visit family (although no one had known he was there as well).

Luckily, her mom seemed to be none the wiser when she got there, happily greeting her daughter and telling her to come in. When she entered though, she could tell her brothers had seen the photo.

“Ah, look who decided to come visit unannounced today, got anything to tell us?” Charles asked in a snippy tone.

“I am surprised your boyfriend isn’t with you. You two seem to be very close considering a photo of you two making out went viral.” Arthur added with just as much disdain

“Both of you, grow up. We don’t need to start a fight.” Enzo jumped in.

“What do you all mean? What boyfriend?” Pascale asked, confused why her children, who never spoke to each other like this, were being so sharp with each other. 

“Look, this isn’t how I wanted this to go. I wanted to tell you all but it was so new and I didn’t feel the need to say anything until it got serious. The last thing I needed was for Charles to have an enemy on the grid if it didn’t last, and by the time it turned serious I was too scared because of how long I waited.” She explained. As she did this, Enzo showed his mother the tweet that started it all. 

“You are our sister, we want to know what is going on in your life. This is a big thing to be hiding. I race with him! Admittedly, I don’t know him well enough but I do know enough about drivers in general to not want you to have to deal with them, let alone date them.” Charles said.

“It is unfair of you to keep this a secret from your family. You don’t get to make the decision about how we will feel about something for us.” Enzo added.

“I know that! Don’t you understand this wasn’t done with malicious intent? I have sat through enough talks with you guys to know how you'd feel if I dated a driver and while I hadn’t envisioned it happening, it did. I am happy with Logan and I am sorry you found out this way but I am not sorry for dating him. If you can’t be happy for me then I have no reason to be here.” She said, exacerbated. She started for the front door, ignoring her family’s protests. As she opened the door she was met with her very confused and concerned American boyfriend who was just a second away from knocking on the door. 

She was about to grab his arm and drag him off when her mom finally got to her, asking her to come back so they could have a productive conversation this time. She would have said no and continued on, but her mom greeted Logan sweetly and invited him in. She knew his southern manners would stop him from declining, especially when this was his first meeting with her mother. So, reluctantly, she followed him back inside.

Under different circumstances, she would have laughed at the shock on her brothers’ faces as Logan entered, their mother’s arm wrapped around his as she dragged lead him in. 

“We are going to start over, and you three are going to be hospitable to our guest.” Was all Pascale said as she let go of Logan and stared her three boys down. 

No one knew what to say, the uncomfortable look on Logan’s face hurt her to see, as she was the reason he was here, she had needed him and he had come rushing, no questions asked. 

“Well, I would have rather met you before I saw a picture of you making out with my sister blasted all over social media.” Arthur teased, getting a smack on the back of the head by Charles. It wasn’t necessarily unkind, his words didn’t drip with anger or disgust, okay maybe a little bit of disgust, but that was a start. 

“I apologize for that, I can promise you that however grossed out or uncomfortable you are doesn’t even come close to the amount of embarrassment I feel so I am atoning for my actions.” Logan joked. She could see how embarrassed he truly was though, he was a private person in most respects, minus his taste for showing off his abs, this was far too much for him. 

Luckily, her family laughed at that. But she could tell that they were about to get serious again.

“Are you good to her?” Charles asked.

“I think that's a question for her to answer.” Logan replied. She gave him a mental high five for that response, knowing it would please her family.

“He is amazing. He is kind and very gentlemanly.” She answered.

“I think that photo would suggest otherwise, his hands are far too low. But I am glad to hear that” Enzo teased. 

After a few more tense minutes of interrogation, her brother’s seemed to back off, content with his responses. 

“How are you two going to handle all the gossip?” Arthur asked.

She hasn’t thought of how she would address the rest of the world, too preoccupied with her family. Dred filled her again once she realized all she still had to do.

“Maybe you guys could help us with that?” Logan said, an idea already formed. 

logansargeant

logansargeant Whoops, sorry about that folks ✌🏻

charles_leclerc added to their story

charles_leclerc Yes we are aware this boy is dating our sister and we approve…somewhat. 

A/N: I had to add the last photo of Logan and i am not sorry. Love y'all

Part 2: Oh Brother(s) - If you want more of this duo (and her annoying brothers)

[bachiras-toaster]

you are just too good : ̗̀➛

SUGURU GETO x f!reader

contents. smut, virgin!reader, corruption kink, dacryphilia, size kink (?) i guess, pervy!geto, dubcon, geto insults the reader a lil bit

wc. 4.5k

summary. after avoiding geto for so long to try and suppress your love for him, he uses your feelings to his advantage.

For the past few weeks, you had been avoiding your emotions by ghosting the man that you had feelings for. Even if you really didn’t want to admit it, you had the biggest crush on one of your classmates, Suguru— A friend you had made through a mutual friend, Gojo. And despite knowing him for perhaps just over a year, your feelings had been as strong as ever. You weren’t sure how long you liked him for, but you knew that it must have been long enough.

However, recently, you had started to notice the way he spoke to other girls- the way he flirted with other women. It was then that you realised that you really were just the average person, while he was Suguru Geto- Strongest sorcerer and even more popular with the ladies than Satoru Gojo himself.

It made you sick seeing him float around girls that weren’t you, so you had made the conscious decision to pull yourself away now before you could get hurt even further.

Consequently, Geto seemed to take notice of how you had been avoiding him, and it pissed him off more than you realised. He had asked both Gojo and Shoko about your whereabouts, questioning why you never seemed to hang around them anymore, though it seemed that Shoko was just as lost in the dark as he was. It wasn’t until that Satoru had finally let slip accidentally that you must’ve been avoiding him because of your feelings towards him— Something that you had confided in him on the basis of deep trust. Gojo admittedly felt a little guilty for betraying his vow not to tell anyone like that, but Suguru could be unfortunately persuasive with his words.

Geto eventually made his way to your dormitory to find you since he was never able to catch you around the school; he finally got sick of all of the missed calls and took matters into his own hands— Letting himself into your room using a small curse to pick open the lock so he could invite himself in without you even needing to open the door. It was bad enough that he had even broken into your dorm, but the fact that he could so shamelessly use his cursed technique like that to break in at night.

What if you had been changing?

Or showering?

Or even asleep?

He supposed he was lucky to see you standing in your room doing none of those things, your eyes instead widening with surprise when your stare locked onto the man stood by the entrance of your bedroom. His eyes were dark with irritation, and it perfectly matched the way the rest of him was presented- Hair dishevelled as the stress reached those dark strands, wondering how long it had been since he had seen your face.

“Satoru already told me about what you’ve been hiding.” He stated darkly, slowly making his way into the room. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me? Because you’re in love with me?”

There weren’t any words that escaped your lips, which only seemed to frustrate the dark-haired man more, and in your nervousness, he had backed you into your bed, pinning himself on top of you as he stared into your eyes with a cold expression.

“If you had feelings for me, you wouldn’t be ghosting me like this.” He reiterated sternly.

You couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat when he had pinned you down so strongly. Your face had immediately flushed and it became difficult to properly look him in the eye.

“Th-That’s not it!” You stammered out in a strained manner.

“Oh really? Then tell me what it is then.” He scoffed, pressing himself closer to you. “Because you’ve been running from me like I’m some kind of monster when all I’ve ever done is care about you.”

His gaze was intense, and it was making you uncomfortable. You felt a burning sensation in your cheeks as he looked down at you, despite doing your best to ignore it.

“I-I wasn’t—” You gulped. “I wasn’t trying to ghost you!”

But that was a lie. It had been obvious. You knew as well as Geto did that it was clear that you had been avoiding him after all that time. The fact that you were lying just made it worse.

“Really?” He said with a mean glare, his dark tones echoing against your ears. “Then why were you hiding from me?” He asked slowly, placing one hand behind your neck and leaning in to whisper his next reply close to your ear. “Why would you run from a friend? Someone who cares about you?”

He could feel your heartbeat racing, the scent of your perfume filling his lungs as he spoke. He didn’t even seem interested in how he was pressing himself against you so harshly, clamping you down like you had even been eager to get away.

"You weren't trying to ghost me, but you did." Suguru stated down at you, but not like how he usually would; It was filled with more annoyance than his usual teasing, the kind of glare you only saw when he fought curses. "You've been ignoring my texts and not answering most of the calls, so don't lie to me and say you weren't doing it. …Besides, all this running away means is that you just really wanted me to chase you."

“Why are you—“ Your voice grew meek when you realised that his face was leaning closer, getting way too comfortable in the current position. You felt like you couldn’t sputter out the words if you tried.

The expression of displeasure grew wider on his complexion; He looked somewhat angry at himself more than he was at you for some reason, and you did your best to look away from him so you wouldn’t feel his breath on your face.

"It's okay," He said, looking down at you in a way that made you feel more flustered, his voice husky and threatening. "Just admit that you have feelings for me, and we can forget all about how you were avoiding me."

Instead of pulling back, he only leaned closer to you. You felt his words touch your skin, as if his breath itself was tickling you, and his hand pressed harder against you, bringing you closer to him until there was no space between your bodies. His hand moved from beneath to you slink up to your wrists, clamping them down into place so that both of his palms were clasped tightly against your arms.

“Do you realise you only hurt yourself when you do things like this?” Geto’s brows furrowed with annoyance as his hands dug deeper into the bedsheets. “Trying to avoid me because you’re scared— What were you thinking?”

“That’s not fair—!” You yelled out, your heart beating dangerously fast now. “I wasn’t avoiding you, I was just putting space between us!”

“Is that not the definition of avoiding?”

“You’re one to talk, Geto! You’re full of shit talking about how you ‘care’ about me. We only became friends because of Satoru! Don’t act like I had any kind of important role in your life!” You spat back, to which he only responded with an eyebrow raise.

“Oh? We’re going back to last-name basis now?” He uttered in an unimpressed tone. “How very immature of you, (Y/n). You shouldn’t talk that way about the man you love.”

Your cheeks burned with both frustration and blush- it was like all of the blood had rushed to your face and you couldn’t tell if it was out of anger or if it was because he had never been this close to you before. He was trying to provoke you, that’s for certain. There wasn’t really much else to it.

“You asshole! Arrogant, little—“ You felt your hands ball into fists against the covers. “You’re just trying to get me to confess my feelings to absolve you of any blame!”

“And so what if I am?” His expression went cold. “Am I wrong in thinking you do feel that way about me?”

“Why does that matter anyway? Satoru’s already told me about how popular you are with the girls! Stupid of me to think I had any sort of chance— Or that there was any sort of possibility that you’d be mature about this!” You blinked back your tears of frustration as you went to lift your arms, but his hands quickly moved to push your wrists back down against the bed even more securely.

“You say you don’t have a chance, yet you’re under me right now, aren’t you?”

“You just want to prove that you’re stronger than me; acting like you can get your way just by showing you can pin me down.” You let out a scoff.

“But for what other reasons could I girl have for getting pinned down by me?” He said lowly, his legs slowly pressing even harder against yours as he leaned closer towards the mattress. “You don’t want me?”

“Idiot!” Beads of sweat began to accumulate on the sides of your face as your breathing sped up. “This is just you sleeping around again. —I don’t want to just be one of the girls you use and throw to the side once you’re done! Don’t you think I have any self respect?” The rage burned in your throat.

His expression didn’t change much; his face was as stern as ever. His grip around your arms tightened as the small bit of light in his eyes began to fade. He looked as if he was furious that you would even imply such a statement, and it made you cringe as he held you in place with his strength. The words felt like a dagger to his heart; to think that you thought he was the type of person to just sleep around with any girl he picked up. The concept of him even wanting that type of lifestyle made his stomach churn with disgust.

"Is that what this whole thing was about?" His tone was biting, that kind of manner he put on when he was ready to get physical to the curses that overstepped a boundary. "You think I'm a pig? Just some guy who sleeps around with every girl he comes across? Putting my behaviour on par with Satoru’s— You really don’t understand, do you?” Geto let out in a backhanded way towards his best friend as he continued his moment of irritation. When his expression had darkened, a warning voice went off in your head, telling you that getting mad at him now would most likely just end with a bad outcome. "…Who's to say I would do that to you? You're different, we both know that. I do love you.” Geto uttered.

Your face, despite what it was hearing, refused to change. You tried to maintain that exasperated look in your eyes; you wanted to make it clear that you were still pissed off. But hearing him say that string of words to you made your heart flutter, and your brows furrowed as you refused to believe what you had been told. It seemed like he was trying to convince you now.

“If you loved me— Then why wouldn’t you just be with me? Instead you need to shamelessly flirt with other women right in front of me, completely disregarding my own feelings!” You snapped back, the hurt resurfacing as you recalled it all. “It’s no wonder why I was ghosting you. Why would I want to witness the person I loved try to get with other people?”

"Maybe if you weren't playing hard to get I could've shown you how much I love you, how much you mean to me." He hissed, glaring at you. There was an edge to his voice, and he was getting colder. His complexion grew frustrated, and you could see his jaw clench. "But I guess you’re right. I must be such a shameless flirt." He retorted sarcastically. "You know how I love to make you jealous, it's my specialty. But clearly you're too stupid to understand that… Maybe I do it to hurt you, because you never bothered to pay any attention to me until you saw me with other girls."

���Don’t give me that bullshit. Even if I tried to flirt with you, you’d shut me down. I would never get the same kind of response as the women you slept around with, so don’t try to convince me otherwise.” Your teeth gritted against each other, your voice much lower now. “If not me, then why everyone else? Is there something different about me that you can’t just accept?”

Suguru looked down at you with an intense stare, his face completely unwelcoming as he chose his next words wisely. His hands shifted up a little so his thumbs would brush against the palms of your hands as he leaned closer, his lips mere centimetres away from your ear.

"Maybe there is something different about you that I can't accept." He muttered in a low tone, his words travelling smoothly into your earlobe. His breath was so hot against that area that it was almost irritating how close he was, but at the same time you couldn’t help but expose more of your neck to him as he whispered in your ear. “You are just… Too good.”

Your eyes widened as the words hit your brain, and he lifted his lips away from your ear to turn your face back towards him. With his hands still against your skin, he gave you a cold-blooded cast.

“You’re too perfect to be tainted by what I have to offer. You’re so much nicer than the friends I usually have— So much more innocent than the sorcerers that surround me.” One of his hands loosened around your wrist to bring up to your chin instead, forcing you to keep looking at his frowning face. “You want to have yourself be ruined by being with me? Is that what you’re telling me?”

Your lips quivered as you tried to find the words, but before you could, he just continued speaking.

"I guess you do understand then. I tell myself don't need to spend all my time and energy on someone who doesn't want me the way I want them, but it’s difficult to get you off my mind." Suguru’s voice had a hint of whine to it, but it still maintained most of its husky components, sounding as though his pride was severely hurt.

"You are right there, there is something different about you. You're a pain in the ass, always going to be a headache for me." He gritted. “Do you want to know what that makes you right now?”

“I—“

"A toy." He growled, his breathing becoming shallow with his eyes narrowing. "Your constant playfulness and games have made me realise that all you're really good for is being a toy for others. You play with my feelings just to get a reaction out of me, and now here we are again… Do you still want to be played with?"

“That’s not what I said—“

"I never tried to break your heart, I only wanted to keep you safe, but it’s like you want me to treat you the way I treat everyone else. It's like you’re just asking to be tossed around." His voice was laced with fury, and it made your heart beat even faster. “You’re so frustratingly pure, and yet… Seeing you like this…” His face leaned closer to yours, his eyes have-lidded as he stared at your lips. “…It makes me want to take that perfection in you and defile it.”

There was something so gritty, so disgusting about Suguru’s words as he said them. You had always known that there was some kind of edge to him, but you had never seen that side of him so close, especially not this close. However, he seemed to mean every word he said, and the way his thumb brushed over your chin as he stared down at your quivering lips only further indicated his seriousness. You were trying not to let his words get to you, but it was proving difficult. You knew Suguru was always full of surprises, but this was something different. His eyes were so deadly and serious it was certainly scary, yet he also had a hint of amusement to it.

"Now, tell me," He said, still stroking your face, his finger brushing your lip, waiting for you to give him an answer, “can you still look me in the eyes and tell me that you still love me after everything I’ve said?” He asked in a much quieter tone than before now.

His thumb traced your jaw, and he looked at you with eager curiosity. It was clear he was giving you a chance to respond, but you couldn't bring yourself to speak.

You felt like you were on the verge of tears— was it bad that you were sure that you still did? Were you wrong for having those same feelings that you did before?

"Answer." He demanded and his voice was filled with terrifying anger again.

“I…” You gulped, flinching a little. “I’m okay with it…”

Your reply didn’t seem to phase him, which was apparent from the way his eyebrows scrunched together. It almost looked as if he was going to reprimand you for a second, however he then pulled a soft expression, a small glint in his eyes when he did.

“…It’s a shame you’re having to be broken down this way… Love is ugly and two-faced. It isn’t always going to be about the butterflies in your stomach, but rather what being in love entails.” He muttered and then he leaned down, his lips almost touching yours as he looked into your eyes with the most desperate gaze. “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

Your attention had been completely focussed on his lips, when it really should have been focussed on his now-free hand as it travelled down your stomach, his fingers hooking against the waistband of your sweatpants.

Your breath hitched when you felt his knuckles press against your hips when his hands dipped into your pants. He hadn’t yet touched you further down than your waistline, but he was getting dangerously close to shifting your underwear out of the way.

“Wait, Suguru, what are you—“ You felt the oxygen escape your lips as you let out a short gasp, your wobbly hands trying to steady yourself on the bed.

“Are you getting scared now?” He glanced up into your eyes.

“No, I just don’t know if—“

“What's different about you is that I want more from you." His tone softened ever so slightly, and he brought his face closer to you. And again, your heart fluttered. "I can just look at you and know that you're the only one I want. Even if there’s a part of me that wants to protect you, there’s another part that will gladly ruin you if you’d let me.”

The other hand that was once pinning your wrists instead slinked down to hold your waist, leaving both of your wrists free— Though you kept them in the same place beside your head.

“Love means letting someone put something inside of you.” He told you, his erected crotch pressing against your thigh. The outline of his bulge was so prominent against the parts of your body that it touched, and you felt yourself wince a little when his lips got closer to your neck. “Will you let me do that, (Y/n)? Will you give yourself to me?”

His fingers suddenly slipped past the band of your underwear, and it made your heart instantly skip a beat. Your eyes widened and your hands snapped down to grab his wrists quickly, sputtering out in an anxious flurry,

“W-Wait—! I haven’t even shaved down there!” You nervously stammered, your face heating up with embarrassment; it’s not like you ever planned for this to happen.

“I don’t care, I’m grown.” He replied dully as his fingers finally slipped between your legs, forcing a quick gasp out of your lips as you felt his skin brushed against yours.

You shielded your moan by clasping a hand over his mouth, gazing at him with opened eyes as he pushed more of his hands into your panties to allow his fingers to squeeze past your gummy walls. His pupils were fixed between your legs in a look of concentration, his thumb working to massage your folds for a steady balance as he slowly penetrated your cunt with his middle and ring finger. He looked amused at how easy it was, chuckling shortly under his breath.

“So you did want me, huh? Feel how wet you are…” He commented slyly. “I was afraid you’d be way too tight, but if you’re this excited, maybe it wouldn’t be that much of a problem…” He grinned.

As his fingers entered deeper into you, you had instinctively tried to clamp your legs together, which was only met with the action of Geto pushing them apart again.

“Please relax, (Y/n). I’m only trying to prepare you for the real thing.” He whispered, leaning closer to you so he could proceed to kiss your neck, peppering wet kisses along your skin as he pumped his fingers into you repeatedly.

You had your eyes squeezed shut, your face not helping but to glow a dark shade of blush as he slowly dug his fingers knuckle-deep into your glistening pussy. The moment itself had been exhilarating, but it became even more of a fluttery mess when his thumb soon landed on your clit to give it a firm massage, rubbing deep circles against that soft spot.

Your mouth had formed the shape of an ‘O’ as soon as he had quickly found your sensitive clit. You had felt good before, but that action felt like it had suddenly sent quick jolts down your spine as your back arched, thighs threatening to shut again as all of the pleasure went to the bottom of your stomach.

“S-Suguru—!” You let out in a gasp, feeling his lips curve into a grin against your neck when you did.

“Do you even touch yourself, (Y/n)? You’re so fuckin’ tight I doubt anything’s even come close to this pussy.” He growled against your ear, licking the outer part of your earlobe so you could hear the wet daps of his tongue.

“I-I do…” You panted breathlessly, your chest heaving.

“Oh yeah?” He raised a brow, the one hand that was on your waist now circling round to press against the bit of skin just above your cunt a pressing it down very gently, letting the butterflies swirl even more violently around in your stomach as you were hit with a new wave of sensations that you welcomed with another strained moan. “Does it feel the same way when I do it?”

You shook your head, whispering softly as your nails dug into the bedsheets.

Removing his fingers from between your legs and placing the slick-coated digits into his mouth, he worked on untying the strings of his own sweatpants so that he could attend to his much-neglected cock.

He had gotten a huge ego-boost as he removed his hardened length from his boxers when he saw how that look of concern stretched into your eyes at how big he was. You hadn’t seen a man’s dick in person before, but surely that was above average, right?

Nevertheless, you took it all in like a good girl, loudly whining his name as he drove his entire length into you. Your legs were parted and he held down your thighs to keep them separated while he worked on leaving a selection of hickeys across the skin of your collarbone and neck. Saliva had remained from where he left those love marks, though you could hardly focus on that wet patches of skin when you felt his tip hit your g-spot at every single forceful thrust.

“Fuck— Fuck! S-Slow down, I can’t—!” You whined, your nails digging against his now-bare back, leaving bright-red scratches against the spine.

He had started off slow at first, not wanting to scare you out of anything, but after a few steady jolts at the hip, he had become a lot faster than he had intended to. He really couldn’t help it, but the feel of your virgin pussy was too much for him to resist, and he fucked into you like you were an object. The way he thrusted was desperate and shameless, and there were moments where he had to remember that he wasn’t masturbating against his sheets or something. His dick had been inside an actual person— And that person was you. He tried to resist speeding up or fucking into you even harder, but that resistance shifted whenever you made another adorable mewl of his name.

“Are you crying?” He asked in a low voice, slowing down to a significantly leisurely pace when he saw tears staining your blushed cheeks. “Do you want me to stop?”

You whimpered softly at the reduction in speed of his hips against yours, and you shook your head swiftly.

“N-No, I just cry sometimes when I feel—“ You gulped, not wanting to finish your sentence.

But Suguru already knew, and it looked like you had just offered him a goldmine of opportunity.

He continued indulging in his pitiful state of lust as soon as you said the words, but it was like it became even more rough the more that you moaned out his name with tears falling down your guilty face.

He backed his lips away from your neck to gaze down at you from above as he drilled into you, and he couldn’t help but smile. This was the sight he had always wanted to see— This was the view of you that flashed into his mind whenever he saw you carry out innocent tasks as he tried to force those perverted thoughts out of his mind.

He could appreciate it all now:

That view of your now-bare chest bouncing up and down as his cock pumped into you more violently. Your hands were desperately grabbing at your tits to squeeze them to focus your attention on something other than the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling down there. Your skin had been littered with hickeys and love bites, and your hair was askew and messy- Some strands had even fallen over your sweat-stained face, only gathering more droplets of salt from the tears that accumulated in the eyes that were squeezed shut.

Sure, Geto was only human, but he was a deranged one— A corrupt one, at that. There wasn’t an ounce of guilt that reflected in his soul as he fucked away your purity with every thrust. He had tried his best to keep you away from the darkness, only to have to pull you in when you got too close. Though he thought that if anyone were to change you, he wanted it to be him.

You were too good.

And fuck, it drove him insane.

[etoiile]

cute lil friends to lovers confession scene with akaashi <33

akaashi keiji was very used to you coming to him for advice and comfort.

you're having friendship trouble? you two are meeting for coffee. academic stress? you two are going for a walk. just a bad day? you two are watching whatever cheesy romance movies you'd like alongside your favorite snacks. (he always has them stocked in his apartment.)

you always referred to keiji as your "unpaid therapist," because he really was there to guide you and comfort you throughout all of the twists and turns of your life. whenever you accomplished a major milestone, keiji was there. whenever you needed to just talk about and process your feelings, keiji was there. even at your lowest, darkest points, keiji was there. he was always there.

he just had this natural talent for knowing exactly what to say and do. he had this process of welcoming your crying body into his home kindly, (or showing up at your place when he knew you were probably on the verge of a meltdown) making you something warm to drink, sitting you down on something comfortable, letting you cry out all of your worries and anxiety, and then giving you the kindest words of comfort and the most perfect advice for every situation. it was seriously magical, the way he always seemed to just abracadabra and suddenly, your life seemed a bit brighter.

he always knew exactly what to say and how to help you. it just came to him organically.

this time, however...

"i want to confess to this guy i like but i dont know how."

keiji stared at you in mild shock. he was certainly not expecting this. he thought that maybe you were feeling a bit overwhelmed and wanted to cry your eyes out to the notebook for the twentieth time to make yourself feel better, that maybe that one friend who always mistreats you made another snarky comment, that maybe you had a paper due in two days and you hadn't even started, but a boy? that you like? that you actually want to make a move on? this was not in his predictions.

admittedly, keiji had grown to like you a bit more than he had expected. there was just something about you that was so special and beautiful to him. maybe it was the way your eyes shone like diamonds whenever something mildly positive happened, maybe it was the way you somehow managed to cry at the same scene in the same movie despite having watched it multiple times, maybe it was the way that despite everything you would go through, you'd always try to keep your head up, but regardless of the reason, he had grown more than fond of you. if you weren't so dense, you'd see the way he looked at you, as if you were one of the seven wonders of the world, or the way he talked to you, in the most gentle, heartfelt tone that was never used on anyone else, or even the way he helped you with anything and everything, setting aside whatever he was doing to be with you when you needed him.

so, you can imagine the way his heart sank when he learnt of your affection for some other man.

"are you guys ... close?" he asked, silently hoping you'd say no, in which case he might be able to encourage you to wait it out a bit until you were sure.

"mhm!"

oh.

"we hangout a lot. he's always there for me when i need him!"

more than him? he thought that the two of you hungout pretty frequently, and he thought that he was your "therapist" who was there whenever you needed him. who the hell was this other rando? he knew most of your friends. you had tons of mutuals and he knew about the ones he didn't personally know through your constant chatter. how come this other guy had never before come up? who was he? he felt like he was going insane.

"and ... you're sure you really like him? how come?"

at his question, your eyes shone in the way that he loved, and he could see the glee radiating from you. it made him kind of sad to see that it was because of another guy.

"well, for one, he's super hot. like, he could be a model. he has the prettiest face ive ever seen and he has the most beautiful piano hands. not to mention, he's toned as fuck."

hotter than him? he knew he was no brad pitt, but he knew he wasn't entirely unattractive. was he not good-looking enough for you?

"for two, he's super smart. like, he's in an amazing major at an amazing university and he gets top grades every time. he's diligent and works hard! it's so admirable, and he inspires me to do the same."

he felt a pang in his heart knowing that despite the fact that he, too, works hard at school, it was a reason for you to go for the other guy.

"y/n, these reasons are a little surface-level. lots of people are good-looking good students. these might not be the right reasons for you to confess your feelings. it might just be a simple, fleeting crush."

despite wanting to be supportive of you no matter what, he couldn't handle the fact that you might be the girlfriend of some other guy. he felt a little bad, but he tried to nudge you into not confessing as subtly as possible.

"but that's not all. above all, he is so kind and he has such a good heart. i've genuinely never met another person as sweet as him. he's been there through my highs and lows, and he's just so pure and good. i care about him so much, and i can tell that he cares about me too. when im with him, i feel like i can be the best version of myself. he pushes me everyday and i'm so grateful to have someone like that in my life. i seriously wonder if he's like, a gift that the gods gave me when they saw how badly i was failing at life or something. i dont know what i would ever do without him."

oh.

you were serious.

you really liked this guy.

what did this other guy have that he didn't, though? he liked to believe he was decent looking! (hes gorgeous and majestic and i love him) he was a hardworking student! he always tried to be kind and caring towards others! why did it have to be this other guy? why couldn't it be him?

as much as he wanted to, he knew he couldn't try to stop you from confessing if you really felt the way you did about that guy. it just wouldn't be right. he couldn't let his own feelings get in the way of your happiness. before he gave you the advice and validation you were seeking, he decided to ask one last question as a confirmation.

"do you think he likes you back?" he questioned.

you pondered the question for a moment. "maybe. i think so? i hope so. i've kind of been trying to gauge his reaction lately, and i think he might like me back? he always tries to hide how he feels, and he has a pretty stoic face, but i can kinda tell what he's thinking because of all the time we've spent together." you replied.

he felt a twinge in his heart but put on a gentle smile regardless.

"he sounds great. if you're really sure of your feelings, go ahead and confess. i think it would be best if you got him alone, maybe in a familiar safe space, and told him straight up. i know that that's what i would like, at least." he advised. throughout it all, he sustained that same gentle smile and voice, despite his extreme inner turmoil. he spoke to you as if you were the most precious thing on earth, because to him, you really were.

"ooo sounds good! so, how do you think i should start it? like, just a 'hey, i like you?' or like, 'you're so special to me and yadayadaya?' what do you think, keiji?" you prompted.

knowing that he was planning how his crush was going to confess to hers felt a little pathetic. regardless, he mulled it over for a bit before replying with, "perhaps you could tell him that you have big news to share as you're sitting down. then, honestly, you could get straight to the point. just tell him about how you feel. however, it all sort of depends on the guy, and how you think he'd respond to different starters, of course."

you grinned. "okay! keiji, stand up for a sec?"

confused, keiji gave you a look, but stood up regardless.

you giggled at the way he looked at you. "so, keiji, lets sit down. i sort of have big news to tell you."

his heart raced. was what he thought might be happening actually happening? there was no way. he didn't know what to think. his mind raced with a million possibilities, ranging from you pulling a little prank on him to you telling him you were deathly ill, but the main one loomed large.

he gulped. "hm...?"

dont get your hopes up. dont get your hopes up. dont get your hopes up. he thought to himself. he was terrified at the thought of having false hope embarrassing himself.

"listen. we've known each other for awhile now, you know? and in that time, i've gotten to know you as this awesome guy who's perfect in every way. i love you to the moon and back; always have and always will, but now, that love is not the same kind as it used to be when we first became friends." you expresssed cautiously.

akaashi was sure he was about to have cardiac arrest from how fast his heart was beating. his palms were sweating and his eyes were wide. was this happening? was this actually, honest-to-god happening?

"i really, really, really like you, keiji. and im not saying that as just a friend." you stated. you looked a bit nervous, but you felt just enough determination to look at him in the eyes.

akaashi, on the other hand...

akaashi steadied himself on the arm of the couch he was on. "seriously?" he breathed shakily, feeling like the news was too good to be true. his face was beet red, his whole body felt numb, and he had subconsciously pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. he had never felt such an intense rush of emotion, and he had no idea what to do with himself. for the first time in your relationship, akaashi was the one less composed and at a loss for words.

"yeah. it's fine if you don't feel the same way, but i thought that i just had to-"

your words died in your throat when akaashi suddenly lunged forward and pulled you tight against his chest, burying his face in your neck.

"i do too." he declared, smiling ear to ear. he pulled away to look at you, admiring your beauty.

"i really, really, really do."

© 𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐈𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 please do not copy or repost my work on any other site. interactions appreciated! 🤍

[griffonsgrove]

General Dating Headcanons | Black Hat

Black Hat X Reader fandom: Villainous/Villainos words: 1132 cw: none!! enjoy! a/n: Hi hi!! ive really been wanting to do headcanons for Black Hat for a while, I'm open to asks and requests so dont be afraid to drop a suggestion in!!

(Platonic):

Black hat is by no means an easy boss. He’s ruthless, unmerciful and bitter, and you are no exception in the Eldrich’s case.

At first.

When you were first hired to be an employee at Black Hat Organization, Black Hat treats you as he would any of his other employees.

With zero respect.

He has very little tolerance for inefficiency

But you were absolutely determined to live up to his impossible expectations.

Maybe you spent a little extra time organizing his paperwork, or added a smidge more arsenic to his tea than usual (he had a sweet tooth for poison occasionally) and maybe you even bothered to dust some of his prized artifacts and tomes from his glory days as villain, making them look as new as the day he got them, and so many other things you did that seemed to make his life a little bit more stress-free.

At first, he thought nothing of it, it wasn't uncommon that his henchmen would grovel at his feet and suck up to him, it amused him really. 

But overtime the eldritch realizes that you wanted to do these little tasks. 

But why?? He was the most feared being in existence, and you went out of your way to do the smallest task to appease him. You seemed to worm your way into his thoughts, even as he sat perched at his desk in the wee hours of the night. Why were you just so…sweet! You should be cowering in fear!!

Speaking of fear, he loooooooves to scare the shit out of you, popping up when you least expect, out of the shadows, morphing into some unspeakable abomination of eyes and mouths (possibly) scarring you, always got a kick out of him.

After working for him for some time you were the only one, he seemed to tolerate, you managed to do your job with little to no flaw or mistake, unlike his scientist.

Dr. Flug admittedly was slightly envious.

He’d never admit it but, Black Hat enjoys holding conversation with you from time to time. He allows you to ask questions, most of them being about all the things he had witnessed and accomplished in the eons he’s been alive. He almost admired the way your eyes lit up in wonder as he explained. Almost.

You enjoyed these little private conversations too, occasionally the demon would ask a question or two about yourself, which you would happily answer. He may show no interest on the outside, but on the inside he's curious. Something he rarely feels.

He does have a reputation to uphold however, and still threatens, yells and demeans you just as he would any of his other employees.

Gotta keep you on your toes, ya know? 

But deep down you know. You know that he secretly enjoys your company and is too stubborn to actually admit it.

You even dare to go as far and say that he was a friend. Don't let him hear you say that though.

(Romantic):

hooo boy

When I say this man is conflicted

The mere thought of love made Black Hat’s face morph into an ugly scowl, something he thought was near impossible for him to ever experience. The man had no heart for goodness's sake!

Oh, but then you had to weasel yourself into his life, his home, with your sweetness, didn't you?

Let me be clear when I say that this old man has never experienced these kinds of feelings before in his lifetime, and when he does, he thinks he’s possibly dying.

Did I also mention dramatic??

When realization dawns on him, he is absolutely floored, and the first thing he does is avoid you like the plague, which confuses you and raises a bit of concern. He rarely calls you to his office, and when he does, he avoids eye contact or just faces away from you entirely, barely acknowledging your presence.

Definitely becomes moodier, and more irritable as his feelings fester.

It’s not until you confront him one evening, when the manor is still and quiet, everyone having retreated to their respective rooms hours ago. That he finally confesses.

And being the extremely old fashioned eldritch he is, he formally asks to court you, how could you deny such a tempting proposition from the lord himself??

Of course, you say yes, why wouldn't you?? It’s an honor to be courted by Lord Black Hat!

Surprisingly, nothing changes much at first, he’s still very new to these feelings.

You both come to the agreement to keep your courtship strictly private and away from prying eyes, as I’ve said the man has a reputation to uphold.

God forbid Demencia finds out either. 

With all that being said, you both take things very slowly, which thankfully you were patient and understanding about, he's experiencing all these things for the first time.

It’s a good thing you're there to help guide him, right?

He may not have ever been in a relationship, but he isn't stupid. This demon is a straight up gentleman, and extremely chivalrous. Call it old-fashioned if you must, But the man is a charmer.

Despite his villainous persona, Black Hat shows rare moments of unexpected softness when he's alone with you.

He might not admit it, but he secretly enjoys quiet evenings, perhaps reading or just spending time together in one of his private studies. He personally enjoys reading the Necronomicon to you.

Black hat also has an uncanny ability to find and present unique, often mysterious gifts. They might be rare artifacts, darkly enchanted trinkets, or even personalized items that reflect his understanding of your tastes. You keep every single one of them.

He’s surprisingly a good listener and remembers just about anything you tell him.

Which by the way, this man spoils you.

When it comes to dates, Black Hat goes all out. He arranges extravagant, exclusive events, whether it's a candlelit dinner on a rooftop or a private screening at the manor. 

He once brought you to another dimension to view the downfall of an alien civilization, how romantic!

Black Hat, in his own twisted way, is fiercely protective over you. He might not show it overtly, but anyone who dares to even look at you with disdain will face the Eldrich’s fiery wrath.

Overall, Black Hat is surprisingly a good lover and partner. Your life never seems to be dull with him around, and you're incredulously grateful and honored to be able to see this side of him, even if it's behind closed doors. He has a hard time conveying his feelings and being vulnerable, but you're patient and understanding and eager to help guide him.

He never would have thought love was possible for him until you came along.

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

Can you do a set of headcanons of Dallas with a perfectionist reader? Like someone who stresses out before a test or beats themself up when they get a bad grade (and it's not even a bad grade, it's just slightly lower then they thought they'd get.)

A/N: Oh I liked this one. I liked it a lot- thanks for the request! Sorry it took so long!

I wrote this during my anatomy class instead of paying attention, so yeah! Hope this turns out well, I hope you guys like it-

I’m gonna do general headcanons for this one?

I’ll definitely include the scenario you gave me, but I think I’ll have more talk about this way-

In general, Dally really couldn’t give less of a crap about going to school and he honestly thinks you’re kind of a weirdo for stressing out so much about the grades you’re bringing home

He just doesn’t see the point to it, ya know? Like he’s basically a dropout, I bet you he never really goes to school anymore, so he really just can’t wrap his head around why it gets you so dialed up

He’s very unhelpful when it comes to your studies

That’s all.

He’s just unhelpful.

When you’re studying? He’ll purposely shuffle up your papers, steal your pencils, mix up your stuff and just generally be a little nuisance

He does it cause he gets bored when you’re not paying attention to him so ya know, good luck getting yourself out of that mess with him, that behavior really isn’t going anywhere anytime soon

Dal’s absolutely astounded by your grades though- all those 100s and high 90s?

That’s miles ahead of what he was getting when he was still in school and it seems like you do it so easily, just like getting good grades is in your nature

Which, ya know, circles back to kick you in the butt because the minute you bring home something in the low 90s, high 80s range, your world is absolutely wrecked and Dallas doesn’t understand at all

When you start to go bonkahs though, and run yourself into the ground just because you got one question wrong, that’s where Dally kind of steps in and really calls you out on it

He’s going to say that you’re being ridiculous and he means it, he genuinely thinks that you’re being ridiculous because why does one missed question mean so much anyway??

You guys have a big argument of course, because the one thing you should never do is tell a perfectionist that they don’t have to be perfect

So you guys fight and you sulk off to your respective places before comes back, not to properly apologize, but to take you out to the diner or drive-in or something as a faux apology

He still thinks you get a little bit ridiculous about your grades, but now he’s smart enough not to run his mouth off about it, he does get mad though if you refuse a date because you have to study, Dal, I’m sorry

Insert Mr. Winston saying whatever, if you’re studying at home, I’m just gonna sneak in your window and claim that it’s a study date

Let’s just say…studying can get very…hands on…when Dally decides he’s going to crash your lesson cramming sessions 

Don’t think too hard about the phrase cramming sessions because I am NOT getting in trouble for that one but ya know….heh-

ANYWAY

Dal calls you a nerd, a bookworm, a dork, a geek, but mah boy will not hesitate to throw down if someone else calls you those things

Dallas, admittedly a little bit of a bully, does not like it when other people try and mess with you, so boy’s got you covered

I can definitely see him trying to get you to skip school, especially if he’s fresh out of the cooler or reform or something and honestly? He just wants to spend time with you, and it hurts his feelings a little when you’d rather go to school

It’s all about that perfect attendance, okay? All about that attendance record-

But maybe your last period never takes attendance anyway and maybe Dallas just so happens to be waiting outside and you just maybe get your best friend to cover for you so you can skip one class to go out with him <3

Overall?

I can see this dynamic working, at least for a little while-

Despite the fights that are bound to occur, Dallas does enjoy you being a genius and he’ll brag about you to the gang, telling Darry he needs to start hanging your report cards up on that old fridge

Dallas does his best to keep you from driving yourself to burnout and I’ve got this mental scene of you trying to teach him something you’re working on and he just kind of cuts you off in the middle of talking to give you a kiss because he hasn’t been listening to you for the past five minutes but his eyes have been locked on your lips and he’s pretty sure that he doesn’t know the answer but he knows he wants to kiss you real bad-

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

smut for carmen berzatto with “i don’t deserve you?” please and thank you xo

Carmen.

6. "You're my best friend." + 14. "I don't deserve you."

Author's Note - this is a drabble written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here if you're interested. combined 2 requests here - thank you sweet anons!! adore adore adore mr berzatto x

Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - smut!! + cursing, angry carmen

Word Count - 950

Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.

Admittedly, he's easier to overwhelm than he should be.

The smallest thing goes wrong, and all of a sudden he's spiralling. He panics, and he takes it out on whoever is closest.

Today is no different.

You're wiping down tables out front when you hear him yelling. He's cursing, screaming at his kitchen staff. He's got that sharp edge in his tone, so you know it must be bad.

You drop your cloth and stride towards the back of the restaurant, determined to see what all the fuss is about. You're met with the sight of 4 terrified chefs and Carmen, stood in the middle of the kitchen, shouting at Sydney.

"Are you incompetent, chef? Are you?"

Sydney doesn't often flinch, but even she looks scared this time. She doesn't answer, and it angers him further. He goes to insult her again, but your voice cuts through the room.

"Carmen!"

Everyone stops to look at you. You're notoriously calm, the most collected person in the establishment. If you're yelling, it must be serious.

Carmy locks eyes with you, and you see the immediate regret written all over his face.

"Okay, everyone go home," you demand. No one protests, all of them filing out silently. When they're gone, you speak again.

"What the hell was that?"

When he doesn't answer, you take a step closer to him.

"Carmen, you can't scream at your staff every time something goes wrong. If you're not careful, you're gonna end up running this place by yourself."

He's looking at you with his puppy dog eyes, running his hands through his hair repeatedly. You can see he's clearly struggling with something internally.

"Hey, hey. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he replies too quickly. "I'm fine."

"Carmen, you're my best friend. I've known you since elementary school - I can read you like a book," you laugh. "Just be honest with me. What's wrong?"

"I just -" he sighs, and starts again. "I think I'm doing all of this wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm trying to do everything the way my brother did it, and it isn't working."

He leans back against the counter, stress plaguing his shoulders.

"You kind of just solved your own problem," you explain, stepping forward so you're practically standing in between his legs. "You're trying to do everything the way your brother did it. But you're not him. You're Carmen."

"No one calls me Carmen but you," he chuckles.

"That's because you're my Carmen. No one else's," you wink.

He smiles at you and your heart skips a beat.

You lean forward and press your forehead to his, exhaling when you feel the tension leave his muscles temporarily.

"I don't deserve you," he whispers.

You pull back and cradle his face in your hands, looking at him intently.

"Deserve or not, you have me," you reassure. "You have me. I'm not going anywhere."

Carmy surges forward and smashes his lips against yours. You gasp in shock, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, hands going to your hips to hold you to him.

This isn't the first time the two of you have kissed. In high school, you'd kiss at parties, occasionally makeout in his car, that one time after prom. But this is different. This kiss is charged.

You're tangling your fingers in his hair while he's grabbing at your ass, trying to pull you as close as he can. You break away for air and he kisses your neck, nipping and sucking as he goes.

"Not here, Carmen," you pant. "Office. Office, Carmen."

He picks you up around your middle and carries you, laughing when you squeal loudly, kicking your feet. As soon as you're through the office door, he's crowding you against the wall, desperately attempting to get your chefs jacket off. His fingers are shaking with want, and he's struggling with the buttons.

"Forget about me," you mutter against this lips. "This is about you. Call it stress relief."

You wink before dropping to your knees in front of him. He throws his head back at the sight, overwhelmed.

You untie his trousers and pull them down, pulling him out of his underwear. He's hot and hard and heavy in your hand, and you're realising you've thought about this more times than you'd care to admit.

"Let me take care of you, Carmen," you whisper, before taking him in your mouth.

You set a steady pace, head bobbing and hand moving in tandem. He's groaning, practically writhing, clearly trying not to move his hips.

"Don't hold back on me now," you say sternly, looking up at him with tear stained cheeks. He thinks you've never looked prettier.

"I don't - are you sure? I just - I need to -"

You cut him off by taking him back in your mouth, one hand gripping at the flesh of his thigh. He slowly starts to move his hips, gently and carefully. After a while, he learns your limits, and begins to thrust a little harder.

"Yeah, baby - fuck," he groans. "Just like that. Shit-"

You can tell he's close when his hips begin to stutter. One of his hands moves to grip your hair, and you moan when he tugs. The vibrations of the sound are his undoing, and he spills into your mouth, shuddering and groaning.

"Fuck, I don't deserve you," he mutters, pulling you up so he can slip his tongue past your lips to taste himself.

"Deserve or not, you have me," you echo from earlier. He laughs, and it's like you can see the tension melting from his body.

"My Carmen," you whisper against his lips. "My Carmen."

[tender-rosiey]

What would happen if gojo has 2 babies? And they both start crying at the same time and poor gojo has to find a solution in this situation 🥲 his younger baby that is only months old starts crying which makes the older sibling that's 2 years older wake up and starts crying 😭

little voice — gojo satoru x f!reader

you’re on a girls’ vacation. it’s okay. it’s cool.

but it isn’t.

throughout his entire life of fighting curses, emotional trauma, technique training, and unending migraines, he has never felt so much stress like he does right now.

his two kids are truly angels: full of kindness, compassion and—as expected of a child of gojo satoru—full of mischief.

they also share the same amount of love he has for you and, of course, even more. so separate two kids who adore their mother and you get chaos.

satoru just found out that the one who keeps the balance in the house is you, and thinking back about it, it should’ve been obvious because everyone in this house listens to you.

for example, one time when you were out on a simple visit to nanami to take some of the sweet bread he has, you had strictly told satoru to put the two kids to sleep at 8:30 exactly.

he thought it’s too early, but then you explained to him that s/n sleeping gave him time and freedom to look after your baby daughter who was, admittedly, a handful that would not sleep unless she was carried.

so satoru obediently listened, or at least he tried to.

a shameful failed trial at that.

in his defense, what was he supposed to do when s/n gave him puppy eyes asked for a mere 10 minutes more, say no? of course not!

so, like the great father he is, he gave him a couple more minutes, and nothing will make satoru regret his decision since to him his son’s smile is worth the world.

…except maybe the chandelier that is now on the floor and his precious baby daughter who just took one the biggest poops he has known of and his son who is panicking about how to clean this mess before you come home.

and come home you did and to all this mess.

swiftly, you picked up your daughter and changed her diaper, even making her giggle and squeal in between.

then you hugged your son and cleaned up the shattered glass together and disposed of the chandelier. lastly, you stood in front of your husband with a big frown after you’ve put the kids to sleep.

satoru could swear that he couldn’t fall more in love with you. hell, he could even twirl you around and kiss you breathless, but he feels like that would just lead him to the couch.

so he works to butter you up first before trying anything, “hey my sweet cute honeypie—“

you simply quirk an eyebrow.

and he falls to his knees, “I am sorry! I just couldn’t resist his puppy eyes! you should’ve seen them; he looked so cute!”

“I saw them a million times before he was even born, ‘toru.”

your husband gasps, “how!?”

“our son is an exact copy of you, sweetie.”

so yeah that was one of too many times, and if it isn’t apparent that you are the mediator then satoru wants to let the world know that even his students listen to you.

like that one time at school when the first years were caught up fighting with each other, the second years were trying to pull them apart, and satoru was too busy cackling at them while holding d/n that no one noticed panda’s little tail being—god knows why—on fire, not even panda himself.

that was until your precious son tugged at your husband’s shirt and pointed at panda, saying a simple sentence (phrase), “papa, panda fire.”

satoru’s eyes zero on panda then they widen, before he gapes, “oh shit, you’re right!”

“bad word!”

“sorry!”

however, despite satoru almost bolting to put out the fire, panda was finally able to smell it and hummed, “something’s being cooked.” then he looked at his tail, “oh it’s me.”

hit the panic button.

“I am being cooked!” he screams and starts running around, “panda meat doesn’t taste good; I promise!”

the rest start running after him with the intention to help, but panda could only translate it into one thing as he screamed, “don’t eat me!!”

“no one is gonna eat you, dumbass!!” maki yelled but to no avail as no one could get to the panicked panda.

your husband is running as well, half taking photos and videos and half ensuring that d/n does not fall from his hands—considering how she keeps giggling, squealing, and wriggling her entire body.

ijichi took matters into his own hands and called the only person he knows will be able to solve this.

“hello?”

“panda is on fire, the kids are running after him, and gojo is just recording!” he wails, eyes frantically following said people then straying to a particularly small person, “also s/n is trying to eat the grass.”

“what?!”

and like lightning, you’re on the field. you lightly scold s/n and tell him to cover his ears.

you turn to the walking fire hazard and scream, “everyone stop! and panda get over here!”

“yes ma’am!”

he stands still in front of you, almost ignoring his ‘fiery’ tail. you effectively put it out and ruffle his fur until he calms down. the others take turns in greeting you and getting their daily dose of motherly hugs.

your son sprints to you and holds onto your leg, refusing to let go.

and they all make way for the star of the show: the all-mighty gojo satoru.

he beams, “wifey, yet again you save the day!”

he easily picks up s/n and pulls the four of you into one big hug. he rubs his cheek against yours, “have I told you how much I love you?”

“I was gone for 3 minutes.”

“I haven’t?!” he gasps, completely ignoring you, “I am a terrible husband!”

he sobs and starts slowly melting to the ground where he believes a ‘disrespectful, good-for-nothing husband who doesn’t tell his wife just how much he loves her’.

anyway, back to the present. the kids have been miraculously put to sleep—a process that satoru does not have the time nor the energy to describe.

when he stops ‘reminiscing ‘, he starts paling at the fact that all of these were mere examples of things going wrong without you, and you were in the freaking area.

now, you’re not 10 steps away, and satoru is feeling very threatened.

he is sprawled out on the couch, eye bags ever so prominent. he sighs and lets his head fall back, grateful for the silence that fills the house, but he hates it at the same time.

satoru was never fond of silence—the type that feels so heavy on the heart—even when he was a teenager. it gives space and time to think about all the things he is desperate to avoid.

he did eventually come to love silence but only the silence that accompanies the times he spends with you, but that’s a story for another time though.

opening his eyes, he looks around and his gaze lands on your recent family photo. his smile is almost instantaneous.

if there’s anything he will rub in suguru’s face when they meet is that he managed to score himself such a lovely wife and an adoring family, a real family. he mentally writes a plus one on the score chart between him and suguru then relaxes.

he would like to scurry to the bed where your scent still lingers, but his fatigue has simply chained him to the couch—he is overreacting you’re only gone for three days.

so, he decides, it’s time to rest and hope for a dream where he gets to hold you and live with his longing until he can feel your lips against his skin again.

the great gojo satoru closes his eyes and welcomes his slumber.

that is until, his little sweetheart decides to breakout into a wail, effectively causing her dad’s eyes to snap open.

he jumps to his feet and sprints to her room, “d/n, what’s wrong, honey?”

he softly cradles her in his—gigantic—arms and starts rocking her slowly. “it’s okay; papa’s here,” he murmurs in hopes of calming down, but his daughter doesn’t register his voice yet.

she can, however, feel his all too familiar chest against her cheek, so she grips at it tightly and continues crying.

satoru’s expression is full of distress, and his heart contracts painfully at how his daughter’s cries. then it’s almost like the entire world is against him right now because he also starts to hear small little sniffles from the door of the room.

your husband looks back to find his son dragging his teddy bear with him in one hand and in another, trying to wipe his tears as much as possible.

your husband quickly shifts d/n into one arm and leads s/n into him with the other. your son nuzzles into his dad’s chest and murmurs, “I want mama.”

almost like she understands the mention of you, she calms down a tiny bit and her hands start reaching for the air—reaching for you.

satoru slides down to the ground and pulls them both into his chest, and he starts rubbing s/n’s shoulder and kisses the top of his head and sighs, “me too, s/n, but, hey, we are strong and capable, so we have to hold on until she comes home, right?”

a little sniffle escapes s/n as he nods before saying a soft, “yeah.”

satoru smiles and ruffles his hair, “that’s my champ.”

s/n lets out a little smile and snuggles into his dad’s embrace.

so satoru shifts his attention to the sniffling baby in his arm, he frowns, “now what are we going to do with you, little missy?”

your son purses his lips for a moment, before placing the teddy bear in his hands into his little sister’s tiny arms. curiosity takes over for a moment, and she starts exploring the new item.

then s/n presses on the teddy bear’s chest and it plays a little voice message from you:

“hey sweetie! mama loves you, so don’t worry about those nightmares! I am always here.”

your daughter’s eyes shine and she hugs the teddy as much as possible and utters a small, “ma!”

satoru blinks owlishly then looks at s/n with smile, “so you had that all along?”

s/n nods slowly and holds into his father tighter, obviously getting tired and getting ready to sleep. satoru would love to say the same about his other angel but—oh she fell asleep.

looks like all it took was a little listen to your voice.

he will probably make you record a thousand voice messages when you come back and make you get him his own special build-a-bear as well cause what the hell? what about your husband?

he shakes the thought away, realizing that he can finally fall asleep, albeit on the floor.

with no blanket.

no pillow.

not even his favorite cushion.

but he wasn’t raised to be ungrateful, so he will take what he can get. he will simply make up for lost sleep when you’re back. it will feel better that way in any case.

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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[jupiters-galaxy]

I've seen some people criticize how quickly Peter and Steph fell for each other (to the point of being the thing they treasure most), and while I do understand some of the criticism, I think there are a few key things that some people aren't picking up on.

-Treasuring each other IS NOT strictly romantic. While it's true that Peter is in love with Steph, and Steph with Peter, it goes deeper than their repressed love story. They ARE friends. They do genuinely like spending time together, although their connection is relatively new. They care about each other as people first; neither of them seem like they NEED to be in a relationship with the other. They seek each other out even when they're just friends.

-It's also important to remember that the lords in black only want treasured things in the metaphorical sense: they can't give up OBJECTS. It presumably has to be a person or a concept.

-It's important to remember that both of them have been through an unbelieveable ordeal. Peter's closest friends were murdered. Stephanie lost her DAD, and although they weren't close, that can't have been easy to stomach. I cannot stress this enough; Peter and Steph quite literally have no one else left. Peter has no other friends. It logically tracks for him to be attached to Stephanie, as she is someone who experienced the same traumas as him. From Stephanie's angle, she doesn't really like her friends, and since objects are out of the question, Peter is the only person who she feels truly knows her. He's really the only option for her, even if her feelings are confusing.

-I also want to point out that you can really kind of feel them falling for each other, although it is admittedly subtext. Peter is weak to Steph as early as the opening number. He does out of character things to make her happy; a compliment from her makes his day amazing; he faces his biggest fear in hopes of seeing her at Pasqualli's. Stephanie cares for him from the first day they meet, although her care is a lot more ambiguous. She teases him about how he's into her, but at the same time, she's protective of him, feeling horrible that he got beat up and wanting to stop it. Even beyond that, she's inclusive towards him, inviting him to hang out with her simply because she likes his company. Her attraction to him makes sense: we know that Steph has a thing for funny and smart guys, and Peter's geeky snarkiness ABSOLUTELY fits. Their relationship is one that just makes a lot of sense!

-Their relationship is actually portrayed really realistically near the end. They're not intense about their love, nor are they overtly sexual. In NPMD, they don't even kiss! The furthest they go is dancing close together and having conversations, cautiously stepping into a new relationship that they mutually want. Despite the heavy nature of their confessions in As Cool As I Think I Am (Reprise), the payoff is not drastic. The confessions were likely only so heavy because they both thought Peter was about to die. Of course he would go out detailing how he loves her, and of course she would say it back; their last memories together should be good ones. When faced with normalcy, they progress as most teens would.

-At the end of the day, they're two traumatized teenagers who already liked each other before the trauma. It makes sense that they feel like the other is the most important to them; after all, Grace is the only other survivor from their group, and they're thinking about her in a less than favorable way past Richie's death, if not sooner than that.

This is not to say they're perfect, but I think their portrayal was really sweet and a joy to watch. I think the implications are extremely interesting idk!! I love Peter and Steph, I think they're more nuanced than they're getting credit for. I love to see cringefail nerds getting badass and amazing girlfriends, let me have this!!!!!

Anyways yeah that's my hot take. One of many. NPMD is consuming me someone help

[midnightfictionlibrary]

Tennessee Whiskey - Jamie TarttxFem!Reader

Tennessee Whiskey - Jamie Tartt x Fem!Reader 

Content : tenderness, flirting, friends to lovers, love triangle, jealousy 

Word Count : 1.7k

Plot Summary : Out at a quirky themed bar with the team, Jamie approaches the reader to apologize for what he deems as dickish behavior. Flirty words turn to a tender moment, but the reader doesn’t realize someone else is pining after her. 

A/N : This was a fun piece to write! Still on my Jamie Tartt bs, bc I love him so much. As always, pls like and reblog if you enjoy it, and let me know if you would possibly want a part 2??

Music drifted through the speakers in the tiny, hokey, Southern American themed bar, and you sighed, eyeing Ted and Beard singing along jovially. You took a sip of your sickeningly sweet sweet tea, just the way you liked it. You had come along to London with Ted and Beard to continue your job as their personal assistant. Let’s face it, they needed help keeping up with everything that needed to be kept track of, and you were the one for the job. Sure, you were younger, but you had proven yourself a capable office manager back in Kansas. 

Your view of the two men was obstructed by another, admittedly more handsome man. Jamie. Your breath hitches slightly, and you cover it with another sip of your drink. You had grown a friendship with the young player, and considered him someone you could go to for anything and everything. What Jamie didn’t know, however, is that you had deep feelings for him, and care about him more than anyone else. 

“Hi Jamie!” You chirp, setting your empty drink glass on the bar. Jamie peers at you, looking at the drink you had sat down. You rarely drank alcohol, so this was a rare form for you. You follow his gaze, snorting slightly. “It’s sweet tea, no alcohol. What brings you to my dingy little corner of the bar?” You ask, stepping a bit closer to him, feigning needing to hear him better. 

“I came to apologize.” He says, his lips close enough to brush your ear. You pull back, eyebrows knitting together out of concern. 

“Apologize for what?” You ask, going through every interaction you had with him recently, coming up short. “You’re worrying me, Jamie.” You say, studying his face. 

“I feel like I’ve been a prick lately, and I’m sorry. I’ve been stressed about the Man City game, and you know me dad-”

You hold up a hand to stop him. “Jamie, you haven’t been a dick to me at all, ok? I get that you’re stressed, and your dad sucks. But you haven’t been any less kind to me than you’ve always been.” The hand you held up moves to squeeze his hand. 

“You’re too good for me, love.” He says back, lifting your hand to his and kissing your knuckles slightly. You try to pretend that your heart didn’t skip a beat, and you just roll your eyes at him. 

“Please. You flatter me.” You wave your hand away, as if to say he needn’t mention it, that’s what friends are for. 

But Jamie moves closer to you, your torsos almost pressing into each other. In this dingy bar, the low light accentuates Jamie’s handsome features, and you gaze up at him, an eyebrow raised. 

“I really mean it. Even when I was bein’ a little prick all the time when you and Ted and Beard first got to Richmond, you were nothin’ but nice to me.” He shrugs. “And I never thanked you.” 

“You really don’t have to thank me, I’m glad I forced you to be my friend.” You flash a grin at him, which makes him laugh, looking away from you slightly while he absorbs your presence. When his gaze finds yours again, it’s considerably softer. 

“Darlin’, I was putty in your hands the first time you bossed me around.” You snort incredulously, and he laughs. “I was. You got on me arse about being on time and it kicked me into gear.” 

“You were stressing Ted out, and a stressed out Ted is a stressed out assistant.” You confirm. “Jamie.” You say, looking at him. “Did you really come to seek me out just to tell me you’re glad I yelled at you the first week we met?” 

“Of course not. I needed an excuse to come talk t’you.” He murmurs, absentmindedly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“You never need an excuse to be near me.” You breathe out, and you’re faintly aware of a slow, sweet country song playing in the background. You clear your throat, drawing back slightly from him, “I love this song,” you say, tucking your hair behind your ear and trying to change the subject at hand. 

"You're as smooth, as Tennessee whiskey, you're as sweet as strawberry wine..." the old jukebox plays, and you close your eyes a moment.

Jamie doesn’t respond, he takes your hand delicately and leads you to the small dance floor. Your heart pounds, wondering what this change in Jamie is all about. Of course, the two of you were friends. But he had never been so tender with you. You were usually the one giving hugs, patting hands, brushing hair away…did he actually mean to be this sweet and touchy-feely with you? Or was he drunk? Jamie draws you close, holding one of your hands to his chest while the other wraps around your waist. He rests his head against yours and murmurs something you can’t quite hear. 

“Hm?” You manage to squeak out, a little more high pitched than you meant to be. 

“I said, I always want to be near you. I know you only think of me as a friend, and I get it, but I wanted you…”He clears his throat, “wanted you to know.” He finishes. 

You pull your head back to look him in the eyes. “What makes you think I only think of you as a friend?” You say softly, raising an eyebrow. “Because I don’t.” 

Jamie knits his brows together. “You don’t?”

You can’t help but let out a laugh. “No! Why would you think that?” You look into his eyes again, and the sight of you making eye contact seems to instantly soften his gaze again. 

“Because you’re…well, you.” He says. “Always seemed too busy to get involved with an athlete, not to mention one that you’re friends with.” 

“I must be good at hiding the fact that I am desperately drawn to you, then.” You say, causing Jamie to smile and press a kiss to your temple. “Jamie.” You say. 

“Yea?” He responds, rocking the two of you gently to the music. 

“Kiss me.”

Nothing else needed to be said. Keeping a hold of your hand pressed to his chest, Jamie draws his face back to look at you. When he sees that you’re being serious, he presses his lips to yours. Slow, sweet, longing. You bring your free hand up to rest lightly at the back of his neck, and when he breaks the kiss, you keep it there. It’s intimate, familiar. 

Jamie pulls you close again, resting his head against yours. “I guess this makes us more’n friends, yea?” He whispers in your ear. 

You laugh, nodding along. “I guess so.” You reply, blushing happily as the two of you danced in the low light. 

“Good luck gettin’ rid of me, love.” He says playfully, peppering your face with kisses as you laugh. 

A low growl escaped the burly man’s lips as he watched Tartt slowly spin you on the dancefloor.

You seemed to be deep in conversation, and he feels Ted and Beard both looking at him. 

He sighs, setting the beer bottle in his hand down on the bar with a clink signalling the cowboy hat clad bartender to swap it out with a fresh, full one. 

“I heard a growl there, Roy.” Says Ted, who then looks over Roy to catch Beard’s attention. “What’s got this one more riled than a junkyard dog, Coach?” Beard jerks his head towards you and Jamie, swaying slightly to the music, and Ted breaks into a smile. 

“Well hey, isn’t that nice?” Ted says, earning a glare from Roy. “By that look I’m collecting that you don’t think that’s nice.” He states. 

Roy just grunts again in response, lifting his bottle to his lips, his eyes watching you. 

Beard shrugs. “Seems like you might have a crush.” 

Ted nods knowingly. “Well, I could have told you that, Beard. You seen the way Roy looks at her when she comes into our office? Like she’s the sun, I’m telling ya.” 

“Oi, shut it, you two.” Roy interjects, “and don’t pretend I can’t see the sly look the two of you are about to give each other. I’m not in denial about it.” 

Ted and Beard look at Roy, waiting for him to finish his thoughts. Rushing him would just get them a “fuck off!”. So they had learned to wait. 

“The thing is- I know she’s special. And clearly Jamie does too. Clearly we have the same taste in women.” Roy grunts as he watches Jamie pull away to look you in the eyes. He clenches his jaw, trying not to appear more jealous than he already was. “She’s just…she’s great. And I like her, okay?” 

Ted and Beard exchange another look and Ted clears his throat slightly. “Listen Roy, we know she’s great. Wouldn’t know which way was up without her, but maybe you should actually try talking to her if you want her to like you.” 

“How do you mean? I talk to her!” Roy says indignantly. 

“Grunting in response to questions she asks you isn’t considered talking to her.” Beard chimes in, Ted nodding along and pointing to his long time friend. 

Roy isn’t listening though. He’s watching Jamie lean in and kiss you, your hand reaching to cradle the back of his neck. It felt like everything stopped. He didn’t realize just how much he liked you until he saw you happy with someone else. Thinking that should be him. And that made him feel like an utter prick. 

“Fuuuuuccckkkkk.” He groaned. This was not good.